#BEN AND FIVE TOASTING
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Caught Red-Handed
Hi! I am answering two similar requests that were sent my way a few weeks ago. Anons requested that Ben and Reader would get caught while making out by the Shadow and Bone cast.
The fic was a little short when I wrote only what you had requested, so I’ve added a cute domestic scene at the beginning. I hope you don’t mind!
Thank you for all your sweet messages anon, they made me very happy!!! I hope you like this piece I wrote for you! Tell me what you think about it :)
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Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader
Warning: fluff, tooth-rooting fluff even, some making out but no nsfw content
Summary: You and Ben are happy to be reunited when you come visit him on set in Budapest, while he’s shooting Shadow and Bone. Maybe, you’re even a little too happy, and you get caught by the cast being a little too… passionate.
Word Count: 2882
There is something awfully lovely about mornings.
Or, to be more precise… there was something awfully lovely about this particular morning.
It wasn’t about the scenery, though. It wasn’t about the young sun coming up, still shy and yet already promising a warm day; nor was it about the glistening rooftops of Budapest. It wasn’t about the delicate light coming in your bedroom that painted the walls golden, and it wasn’t about the beautiful architecture of the town.
It wasn’t about the hour either. It was barely 6 am. You could have wished for a little more rest. The covers were warm and soft on your skin, the mattress comfortable, you could have been reluctant to get up. You could have played the infamous five-more-minutes game. No, it wasn’t about all of this.
Actually, it was about that smell of coffee that filled the apartment. It was about the soft humming you could hear, coming from the kitchen, in a deep and warm voice. It was about the quiet rummaging, the scraping of a spoon against glass, and the rhythmic hit of a knife against a plate. You smiled before opening your eyes.
It was about the man who was preparing breakfast for the two of you.
You let out a yawn before finally opening your eyes. His side of the bed was empty already, but it was alright. You knew he was there. You could hear him in the kitchen.
You still let your hand roam across the empty space by your side, out of habits. After two months being separated by thousands of miles, it was normal to feel like all this was a dream.
It wasn’t though. You truly were in Hungary, you had arrived the previous evening. Ben had come to pick you up at the airport despite his busy schedule. Shooting a Netflix TV show was, after all, a lot of work. Still, he took time to be with you. He always did…
You had flown across the world to join him on the set of Shadow and Bone, and would stay for a couple of weeks. These were your vacations, and you couldn’t be more satisfied about them.
You picked up some clothes on your way out of the room, and soon headed to the kitchen to find Ben cutting fruits and preparing toasts, a warm cup of coffee by his side on the counter. He kept on humming and swaying as he cut an apple in slices, setting the pieces in two different plates. You noticed that he was wearing his earphones, thus not noticing you as you approached. It gave you a moment to lean against the doorframe, and enjoy the sight of your boyfriend standing there, in the kitchen bathed in early-morning light. He was wearing his sweatpants but no shirt or t-shirt, and you took your time to admire his back and shoulders, study the muscles of his arms moving with each fall and rise of the knife. You took in the sight of his dishevelled hair, and his naked feet, and the pure intimacy of the scene. There was something gentle in this domestic moment, outrageously simple, and you reckoned that was what made it all beautiful.
He was surprised when you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your chest against his naked back and dropping a kiss on his shoulder.
He winced, taking off his earbuds.
“Your hands are freezing!” he cried with a laugh.
You pulled away a little, unfolding your arms so your hands wouldn’t touch his chest anymore.
“Sorry,” you apologized with a bright smile and a small voice.
But Ben was merely laughing, and he took one of your hands in his.
“That’s okay. I don’t mind.”
He brought your hand against his lips to drop a sweet kiss on your knuckles. But when you touched him with your free hand again, he jumped and pulled away completely, fleeing.
“Ha! No, okay… I do mind. I do mind, you’re too cold. That shouldn’t be allowed, at this point,” he protested, laughing more than ever.
You were struggling not to laugh as well, and tried to pout instead.
“I can’t even touch you!” you protested.
He handed you your cup of coffee as an answer. You were finally facing him, and you noticed the dark bags under his eyes, the way his eyelids fell more than usual on his black eyes. He was not fully awake yet. But then, he didn’t seem to have taken a shower for now, which explained his drowsy look.
“Warm your icy fingers first. Then you can touch me all you want, but no more ice cubes!”
You accepted the cup of coffee, the warm porcelain burning your skin. You let Ben stand before the counter again, before teasing him.
“I can touch you… all I want?” you asked with a flirtatious smile, bumping your hip into his.
You saw his cheeks reddening, and the way he was biting back a large grin. He picked up the knife again, and resumed his cutting.
“Now… that could be arranged.”
You let out a giggle, before kissing his cheek. He turned to kiss your lips.
“But not before tonight. No time for shenanigans this morning.”
“Really?” you pouted again.
“Don’t give me that look,” he chuckled, trying to ignore you, but miserably failing to do so. “We just have time to eat some breakfast, get a shower, and then we are needed on set. Or well… I am needed on set. You’ll just spend your day distracting me.”
“A shower?”
“Don’t. Start. Besides… I thought last night was enough to get us through at least twelve hours without you giving me that look again.”
It was your time to shy away, and Ben’s turn to smile contently as he tortured you.
“Right… you’re right.”
“Now, I’ve made breakfast. Let’s hurry! Besides, everyone is asking about you, and when you’re joining us on set, and they keep on repeating how they miss you… bla bla bla,” he pulled a ridiculous face, full of disgust, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Ha yes… that must be so annoying that your colleagues love me more than they love you,” you chimed, and Ben gave you his best villain stare.
“I do not find it funny.”
But it made you laugh even more, and he broke out of character in a mere second.
You took another sip of coffee while Ben was wiping his hands and putting the knife down on the table. You tentatively touch his arm with just the tip of one of your fingers.
“Too cold still?” you asked, making your voice shy.
Ben shook his head, his smile still on his lips.
“No, it’s fine now.”
“YEEEEEES!” you cried, rushing to hug him and almost tackling him to the ground. He was back at laughing like crazy.
You held him tightly, releasing him just for a second so he could get comfortable and wrap his arms around you as well.
“Thank you for making breakfast,” you mumbled against the skin of his bare shoulder.
“You’re welcome, darling.”
He dropped a soft kiss on the top of your head.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered, holding you tight.
You smiled, pressing your cheek harder against his collar bone.
“Me too. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.”
“Or well… actually, I’ve missed your shirts. Like this one I’m wearing… they’re very comfy.”
“I hate you…”
“Y/N!”
Three steps.
You only needed to take three steps on set for everyone to be aware of your presence, apparently. You could thank Jessie and her happy cry for that.
She rushed to hug you, and you welcomed her embrace with a bright laugh.
“Hi! It’s so good to see you!”
“Ben kept you away from us for way too long!” Kit added, giving you a hug as well.
“I did not!” Ben defended himself. “She’s the one who didn’t want to see any of you.”
“Now, we know that’s not true!” Jessie replied, sticking out her tongue.
“I was just busy with work,” you explained. “I couldn’t go on vacation before now.”
“Excuses, excuses…” Freddy shook his head.
It was strange to see everyone in full costume again. You spent your morning chatting with your friends, depending on who was waiting for a scene. Ben left you with the Crows to get ready, and you didn’t see him again before lunchtime. Or well, you did see him when you watched him from afar while he was working on a scene but you remained unnoticed, to avoid bothering him.
He fell on a chair by your side for lunch, heaving a tired sigh. It was a merry time, full of laughs and joy and stupid jokes. Jessie took several pictures of you and Ben, and you looked at them fondly on your phone after she shared them with the whole group. Ben leaned closer to look at the screen too.
“You look adorable,” he admitted as he stared at your bright smile.
“I’m not sure how I feel about these scars of yours though,” you teased, pointing at the large marks that had been added across his face.
“It’s to show how much of a bad guy I am. I am tough. Tough guys have scars, you know?”
“Sure,” you laughed. “The Darkling, for sure, is a very bad guy. You, on the other hand, are probably the cutest person I’ve ever met. You’re the opposite of a bad boy.”
He heaved a dramatic sigh, shaking his head slightly as he stared at nothing.
“And then… all my sex-appeal was gone for good…”
You laughed at him, and the mere sound brought a smile to his lips, the kinds he couldn’t refrain.
“I wouldn’t say that, now. We still have some plans for tonight, remember?”
“Plans? Us?”
You looked around quickly, but no one was paying attention to your conversation with Ben. You leaned closer to whisper in his ear.
“You did promise that I would touch you all I want…”
Despite his make-up, you saw his ears and cheeks redden fiercely.
“True… I won’t have the scars anymore by then though. I won’t look like a bad boy anymore.”
“I’ve always preferred kind souls, anyway,” you replied with a grin, before you would drop a peck on his lips.
You rested your head on his shoulder while you listened to Danielle and Amita chat happily, and were disappointed when it was time for him to go back to work.
You walked with him across the main building, hand in hand, accompanying him to the set. He rubbed circles against the back of your hand, the gesture tender and soothing. It was quiet in this corridor, everyone either finishing their lunch or going on set as well. People were busy. Meanwhile, you took slow steps while Ben was rambling about some movie he had watched that week. You forgot for a moment where you were: in a foreign country, in a building you didn’t know, where people created fantastic worlds out of their imagination. Only when you looked at Ben and saw him in full costume, with dark marks across his face, did you remember that he was at work. It was strange, really… the way he always made you forget everything else in the world whenever he was near.
“You’re alright?” he asked with a frown. “Am I being boring?”
“No, of course not. I’m sorry, I was just… thinking.”
“A penny for your thoughts?”
“It’s just… I’m just happy you’re here.”
Ben offered you a tender smile, slowing down his steps until the two of you came to a stop. The corridor was empty, silent. You could hear the distant whisper of busy rooms, but the air around you was still. Ben raised his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing tender patterns across your warm skin.
“I’m happy you’re here too. Even if… you’ve abandoned me all morning.”
You laughed at his teasing, and he did the same.
“Now… again… it’s not my fault if I’m everyone’s favourite!”
“I highly doubt you are, darling. But if it makes you happy…”
You stuck out your tongue.
“I can assure you though that you are someone’s favourite,” Ben added through a chuckle, “if not everyone’s.”
“Whose?”
He let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer to him.
“You are my favourite.”
You let out a bright laugh.
“Considering that I’m your girlfriend… I do hope so.”
“It was a tough competition though…”
“Do you really want to sleep on the couch tonight, my love?”
He rested his forehead against yours as he laughed.
“What about that plan of yours, huh? I thought you had planned some very sinful activities…”
He bumped his nose against yours a couple of times, until it would make you smile.
“Well… for now all I have are plans. Nothing more.”
He hummed, and you closed your eyes. Because you could feel the way he held you tighter against him, the way his fingers were caressing your cheek, his thumb travelling downwards to brush your upper lip. You were so close, your two breaths mingled in the small space between your faces. Your heart had sped up, and so had his.
“We both know those plans will happen though,” he assured you.
“Really?”
But he didn’t answer; he merely closed the gap between your mouths, and you wouldn’t have been able to find any argument against these plans of yours as he did so.
You kissed for a long time, your fingers lost in his hair despite the fact that he was needed on set. And the more time passed by, the more heated your kiss became… lips against lips dancing together, capturing, grabbing, pulling, crashing…
When his lips left your bruised ones to travel down to your neck, you had forgotten how to breathe altogether. He left a trail of goosebumps in his wake as he dropped warm, hungry open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, all the way to that sensitive spot at the birth of your shoulder. He slipped his hand under your shirt, warm fingers running across your back until he teasingly moved his hand to your ribs, his thumbs rubbing the soft skin. You couldn’t refrain a gasp as his fingers grazed the edge of your bra, and you held tightly on his shoulders for balance, your knees suddenly feeling dangerously weak…
You were, however, in the middle of a corridor, and you were well aware that things couldn’t go further than that. So, you held his face in your palms, pulling him away just enough to kiss him again…
… until you heard some shocked cries from the end of the corridor.
You broke away just enough to see Archie, Freddy, Amita, Kit and Jessie all shouting dramatically and covering their eyes.
“How disgusting!” Archie shouted.
“My eyes! My eyes!” Jessie added.
And all of them added their own cry of despair. Ben rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw in an annoyed gesture that remained filled with fondness. Meanwhile, you were giggling uncontrollably, burying your face in his shoulder to hide your embarrassment.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough!” Ben called, struggling not to laugh, and blushing profusely.
“Can we look now? Have you stopped?” Amita asked, peeking through her fingers.
“They make rooms for that kind of stuff, you know?!” Kit exclaimed.
But soon they were unable to refrain their laughter, Jessie being the first to break out of character.
“Alright, alright… let’s go back to work,” Ben replied, shaking his head playfully while you finally broke your embrace and put a step between you and your boyfriend.
“You might need to go back to get your hair done before going back though, mate,” Archie teased, pointing at Ben’s hair that you had, indeed, turned into a proper mess of dark locks.
It made all of you laugh, but Ben could hardly deny that it was more than necessary.
“All of you are just jealous I have the most wonderful woman on Earth just for myself,” he replied, as your friends started to walk towards the two of you again.
“Absolutely not. We just found your PDAs insufferable,” Freddy replied.
“Really?” Ben asked back, rising an eyebrow.
He looked at you with such a mischievous glint in his dark eyes, you knew he meant trouble…
“Kids, these days… they’re a little prude, aren’t they?” he teased his friends, nodding towards them while still staring at you, making them all laugh and exclaim various excuses and arguments to defend themselves.
“You’re right… but they’re young, that’s why,” you nodded. “They still have much to learn…”
“Why don’t we traumatize them some more, then?” he offered, closing the space between the two of you again.
He wore this shit-eating grin again, and his dark eyes glimmered with mischief and something dangerous…
You nodded.
“Yes, we should…”
You were interrupted by a pair of familiar lips against yours, as he held your face in both his hands…
His castmates started their shenanigans again, but you merely smiled into the kiss this time, unwilling to pull away.
After all… you liked it when Ben was full of this kind of mischief…
#ben barnes#ben barnes x reader#ben barnes x you#ben barnes x y/n#ben barnes fanfiction#ben barnes oneshot#ben barnes imagine#fanfiction#fanfic#writing
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The Wedding at the End of the World has so many enjoyable character moments. You just have to completely suspend your disbelief for how they managed to do literally anything depicted in the episode, and who really cares if it makes sense? It's a great setup and gives every character something interesting to do.
Hot takes:
Love that we're continuing not to address Five's very obvious alcoholism. He's literally got a bottle or a glass in hand every scene and nobody can blame him.
It's the One Episode where Sparrow!Ben isn't a cartoon character, and good for him. I feel like it took until this episode to find him. I desperately needed more human-shaped Ben and less arch villain, please continue this trajectory.
Reggie's toast/poem at the wedding is iconic and also probably about his wife?? We don't talk about this enough. I'm obsessed with everything he says.
The sun rises over a lily’s field
A mother veiled, her lips concealed
The mourners come in droves of black
To bury what their hearts unpack
With shallow breath and time eclipsed,
I pray you miss death’s gentle kiss
Only major complaint is that 'Teenage Dream' cover. Ugh. I know they were so happy to get this in, but it's not the vibe that I enjoy from my Umbrella Academy soundtrack.
#tua#the umbrella academy#five hargreeves#tuamre#ben hargreeves#reginald hargreeves#tua hot takes#I know this is a lot about tua but I'm enjoying the rewatch!
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TUA x Reader :- Incorrect quotes
Five: Watcha doin?
Y/N, an inter-dimentional time traveler : Stealing from the commission.
Five: Scandalous.
Five: Can I help?
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━
Five: Are you busy?
Y/N, laying on the floor, falling from the time rip Five opened in season 2: No.
Five, trying to understand who he is and why he’s there: Want to do something?
Y/N, looking up from his own blood: Why would you try to ruin this for me?
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━
Klaus, pointing a camera at Five and his ‘friend’: There they are, our sweet babies.
Five, holding a cigarette and a beer, Y/N, pulling out the knife Five stabbed him with and chugging wine,: What-?
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━
Five: Y/N is not allowed to decide which one of us is the chosen one.
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━
Y/N: Hey there demons, It's me, ya boi.
Five: I’M NOT A DEMON!
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━
Diego, oldest sibling extraordinare {luther don’t count}: Christmas is cancelled.
Y/N, not a part of the family: You can't cancel a holiday.
Diego, adopted them already: Keep it up, Y/N, and you'll lose New Year's too.
Y/N: What does that mean?
Diego: Klaus, take New Year's away from Y/N.
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━
*Comments under an image of a really hot knife cutting bread*
Diego: Imagine stabbing someone with this knife.
Y/N: It would instantly cauterize the wound, so the person wouldn't bleed, so it's not very useful.
Five: if you want information it is
Klaus: why would you STAB a person when you can have TOAST?
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━
Diego, watching Y/N and Five fight: Are you sure they should be fighting? What if they break Elliot’s stuff?
Klaus, not bothered by the chaos: It’s fine. They’re too evenly matched to hurt each other... or anything else... hopefully.
Diego: Then... who’s the strongest?
Klaus: Y/N.
Five: Me.
Y/N: Me.
Y/N: ...
Five: ....
Y/N and Five: *Start fighting again*
Diego: I mean it’s kinda fun right?
Klaus: Yeah, want popcorn?
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━
Klaus: You guys worried about Five?
Diego: Totally!
Y/N: Yeah, he teleported to me in the middle of the night and just yelled, "what do I do, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do?"
Klaus: And what'd you say?
Y/N: "I dunno, I dunno, I dunno, I dunno."
Diego:
Klaus: He’s lucky to have you as a friend.
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━
Five: Look guys, I need help.
Klaus: Love help?
Y/N: Financial help?
Viktor: Emotional help?
Diego: Help moving a body?
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━
Viktor: Ah, yes. Here we have a beautiful broship...
Klaus: I really care about your feelings!
Diego: I really care about YOUR feelings!
Viktor, turning his head: ...and then there's the disaster couple...
Y/N: YOU NEED TO PAY MORE ATTENTION TO ME INSTEAD OF HIDING BODIES!
Five: I WOULDN'T HAVE TO SPEND SO MUCH TIME HIDING BODIES IF YOU STOPPED INSISTING ON FIGHTING EVERYONE WHO COMES WITHIN A FIVE FOOT RADIUS OF YOU!
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Viktor: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat?
Diego: >:O language
Five: Yeah watch your fucking language
Klaus: Okay, who taught Five the fuck word?!
Y/N: 'The fuck word'.
Sparrow!Ben, highly comercialized: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time
Five: Oh my god he censored it
Y/N: Say fuck, Ben.
Five: Do it, Ben. Say fuck.
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━
*The Squad with cigarettes*
Y/N: I smoke regularly.
Allison: I smoke sparingly.
Sparrow!Ben: I smoked once, but I didn't care for it.
Five: I've never smoked, but the idea intrigues me.
Diego: I've never smoked, and I refuse to do so.
Viktor: What's a cigarette?
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━
Five, trying to be happier, after strict orders from Klaus and Diego: A butterfly. Hey, little guy, gal or nonbinary pal.
Diego: Can a butterfly be nonbinary?
Five: I mean, maybe? I don't judge.
Viktor, staring dreamily out of the window: Ah, have you ever imagine having butterfly wings? Then-
Klaus: Then it would be inconvenient as fuck. Your wings would smack every doorframe and your clothes would have to have holes in the back.
Sparrow!Ben: Also, your wing's paper thin, so even a six year old aimed a NERF gun at it would... Yeah...
Y/N: *sips coffee* According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way that a-
Viktor: No, nononono. You fuckers have already shattered my dream, you don't get the fucking privilege to make that reference.
Diego: Also, it's about a butterfly, not a bee... Why would you make that reference?
Five: You clearly have not known with the bastard long enough.
#the umbrella academy#tua#luther hargreeves#allison hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#diego hargreeves#five hargreeves#viktor hargreeves#tua x reader#tua x male reader#five x reader#five x male reader
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umbrella academy characters as my snap stories, pt. ii
luther: the way i have to blast movie montage music in order to be able to focus on cleaning
diego: if you wake me up at four am one more fucking time, i am going to eat half of your socks. one from each pair. i will EAT them.
allison: i just somehow spilled coffee in my fucking contact
klaus: there should be a new creation of a microwave that specifically toasts bread. not like a toaster or an air fryer. just a microwave that toasts bread.
five: i wanted to scratch off a lottery card so i got one of my actual adult friends to buy one for me
ben: please stop threatening to shit in the room. that is very stressful and i cannot handle it right now.
viktor: all of the lights in my room went out so i'm hanging up rainbow christmas lights. happy christmas pride month ig
#luther hargreeves#diego hargreeves#allison hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#five hargreeves#ben hargreeves#viktor hargreeves#umbrella academy#the umbrella academy#tua#tua incorrect quotes#umbrella academy incorrect quotes
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five hargreeves x reader. “ 'have we met?' y/n, i've fallen for you in every timeline i've been in. “ [ gender neutral reader. ]
─ ✧ season 3 spoilers ! in the new timeline the hargreeves ended up in, five finds himself facing a familiar face.
─ ✧ WOOOH the first post did really well :)!! thank u everyone ♡♡ also cw for swearing! ( though im pretty sure its like one word lmao )
[ flashback. ]
“ five!- just go! “ you yelled as you ran, knowing he couldn't hold onto you while he had ben on his back. the kugelblitz was getting closer and you couldn't keep up to fives running speed. “ no!- i am not leaving you! “ he screamed back, looking at you for a moment as he could see the kugelblitz was just behind you. as five stopped you managed to finally catch up and tell him one last time;
“ i love you, take care of my brother ben, okay? “
pushing him away as you were taken by the bright light. five instinctively blinked away and gasps when he's safe from danger for just a moment. “ damn it all! “ he yells, slamming his fists onto the ground as ben groggily wakes up from passing out.
“ where are my siblings? “ ben asks with a groan, fully opening his eyes to see five with a defeated look. tears falling to the ground as you and fei were nowhere to be seen.
“ ben.. ben they're gone. “
[ flashback end. ]
its been a few days since the hargreeves went their seperate ways, five has been having his good and bad days and tonight was a bad one. “ those assholes really left without saying anything. “ five mutters, walking towards the coffee place he often visited whenever he felt stressed.
the bell by the door rang as five entered, automatically sitting on one of the seat by the counter. “ black coffee and french toast. “ he says monotonous, “ its you again. “ five looks up to one of the waitresses that handled the coffee place. he never told her his name, but they knew each other decently enough.
“ y'know.. we've got a new member, seems about your age. “ she smiles, handing over a paper with his order to someone who worked in the kitchen. “ that would matter to me.. why? “ five says with his head facing down at the counter, he wasn't interested in love anymore. not after what happened with you in the last timeline.
the waitress smiles, “ they seem like your type. “ she winked, going off to the back as another pair of footprints walked out right after her. “ 'for the kid who comes in here wearing a suit' thats a silly name. “ the voice infront of him chuckled, but five suddenly tensed up the second he heard it.
he looked up and his widened in disbelief, he was looking at you. “ y/n? “ he managed to choke out of his speechless daze, you looked at him and blinked. “ yes? have we met before? you don't seem very familiar.. “ you tell him but five bit his bottom lip to shut him up for what he wanted to say.
“ 'have we met?' y/n, i've fallen for you in every timeline i've been in. “
“ no no we haven't, your co worker mentioned your name “ five forced a smile, taking his cup of coffee into his hands as his reflection looked back at him ever so faintly. “ thank you. “ he murmurs, taking a sip as you give him a smile. one he's missed for so long.
“ you have a nice smile, did anyone tell you?" five blurted out, not even knowing what he was thinking at this point. you blinked slightly wide-eyed at him before letting out a laugh. “actually.. not often do people compliment my smile, so i appreciate it. “ you giggle, five knew this a long time ago, but he wanted to know if you had any similarities to the 'you' he used to know.
the sound of rain falling onto the roof caught the attention of both of you, you sigh at this and look at your watch. “ oh! seems like its about time i head back. “ you say, taking off your apron as five silently watched. “ how will you head home? its raining like the world is ending over there. “ five joked with a chuckle, though the joke was interesting due to the things hes gone through.
“ my... partner.. will be picking me up. “ you say with slight hesitation in your voice. five nodded nonchalantly though his heart shattered quietly. “ partner huh.. “ he looked at you waving goodbye and entered a mans car, driving off as five sat there speechless.
“ no matter what timeline.. i really can't have you, huh? “ he says tearfully, deciding to eat his emotions away as he took a bite of his french toast.
#tua x you#tua x reader#tua x y/n#the umbrella academy x you#the umbrella academy x reader#five x reader#five hargreeves x reader
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Holidate (Frank Castle x fem! Reader)
MASTERLIST // TAG LIST REQUEST
A/N: Hi hi hi! Writing this was wild and took over my social life for a second there. This hasn’t been beta read, or edited yet (lmfao), but it’s 13k words and I’m very proud of it. Please enjoy! (Matt Murdock next????)
Summary: Holidate – a prearranged fake date that you can bring to family holiday events to avoid awkward conversations about your love life.
When reader realizes she’s the last single person in her family, a run-in with an old acquaintance sparks a genius idea that could get her family off her back once and for all.
(Warnings: slow burn, pining, fake dating, brief description of a severe injury (it’s in the fourth of july section), cursing, eventual smut (p in v, oral (fem receiving)), no use of y/n, wholesome family content, Frank in a bunny suit, let me know if I missed any bc it’s 1:30am and I'm tired lmfao
New Year’s Eve:
The bass of the club speakers pounded in your skull, sparking a fresh wave of annoyance within you. This was not how tonight was supposed to go. You were supposed to be somewhere nice, celebrating the new year with your loving and loyal boyfriend of four years, Ben. But Ben was an asshole who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants long enough to realize he had butt dialed you while he was knee deep in “the best pussy he’s ever had”.
You rolled your eyes at the memory. You weren’t even that upset about it – Ben had become a dull and predictable aspect of your daily routine. The spark that had ignited your affection for him had died out months before you found out he was cheating. It was a brutal wake-up call, though.
Your life, you realized, had become entirely too comfortable, which limited your ability to grow as a human being. The few weeks without Ben leading up to New Year’s Eve had taught you a lot about yourself, but you couldn’t help feeling a little lonely when you looked around and saw happy couples everywhere.
Your sister was happily married to her high school sweetheart. Your mom and dad were disgustingly in love with each other, even after almost 30 years together. And your idiot baby brother had chosen tonight at dinner to announce his engagement to Kim, his girlfriend of 3 months.
After the obligatory congratulatory toasts, your mother’s attention had fallen on you. You had tried so hard to get out of the room before she could open her mouth, but your mom had spent enough time with you to know your tricks and had managed to corner you by the bathroom.
“Sweetie, I want to introduce you to someone. My OB/GYN has a new set of interns, and one of them is very cute.”
“You’re worried about my,” you paused for effect, “vaginal health, Mom?”
“No, of course not, though you should probably get it checked out after the whole Ben fiasco. I don’t even want to think about where he put his pe-”
“Okay, thanks for that, Mom. Really. I just have to pee now.” You slid against the wall until you could grab the doorknob and slip into the bathroom, effectively shutting the door in your mom’s face. You had hidden yourself in the bathroom for 15 full minutes before finally facing your family again. Then, Sammy had the bright idea to take all the siblings out clubbing to celebrate his engagement.
That’s how you ended up here, surrounded by sweaty, drunk partygoers who apparently had so much to celebrate. It was 10 minutes to midnight, and you were doing everything in your power to make it to the exit before you had to be surrounded by sweaty, drunk, kissing partygoers.
The club was so packed you had barely made it five feet before you gave up your efforts, deciding to chug the rest of your drink when the clock struck midnight as your midnight kiss. You watched the dance floor from your vantage point on second floor balcony. An overwhelming presence next to you had your back stiffening.
You turned, ready to tell the guy off, but you lost your voice somewhere between “Fuck off, buddy” and “Not interested”. You definitely knew the guy from somewhere, but you couldn’t put your finger on where that might be. His size was intimidating, and you could tell he was absolutely ripped, but his eyes weren’t those of a drunk asshole. In fact, the look on his face told you he recognized you from somewhere, too.
“Do we know each other?” You had to yell over the music for him to hear you.
“You don’t remember me?” He was smiling, and you knew that smile, but you couldn’t put your finger on how you knew it. You studied his face, trying to remember. Dark hair and eyes, strong eyebrows, and a big nose.
“Oh!” You exclaimed suddenly, “You’re Eagle!”
His eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“You were the TA for my Psych class, right? Like six years ago? Frank, right?” You grinned at him.
“You do remember!” He smiled wide for a second, but quickly furrowed his eyebrows in confusion again. “What did you call me? Eagle?”
“Oh god,” you groaned, running your hand over your face. “We used to call you that. The girls in the class, I mean. You know what they say about men with big noses?”
Frank let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back.
“I didn’t think anyone in those classes even knew I existed. That was the easiest job I’ve ever had. The professor wouldn’t let me do anything, and I still got paid.”
“So, I don’t have you to thank for the A, then?”
“Sorry, I guess you did that on your own.” He shrugged, sipping his drink and smiling. “Did you come with someone? Where’s your date?”
You raised your cup to your mouth, gulping down a mouthful of alcohol in response.
Frank chuckled and nodded. “Ah, I see.”
The clock began chiming, starting the 60 second countdown to the new year.
“Where’s your date?”
Frank smiled and gulped down the rest of his drink, copying the response you had given him. You raised your glass, and he clinked his against yours in solidarity.
When the countdown got to 10, you awkwardly shuffled back and forth on your feet. The couples around you were gravitating towards each other, grabbing each other’s hands and holding their drinks up in the air. You and Frank watched as the clock hit 0, silver and gold confetti floating down from the ceiling and coating the kissing couples on the dance floor.
Your brother seemingly appeared out of nowhere, tugging his fiancé behind him. “Hey! We’re going!”
You nodded, turning to Frank. “I have to...” you trailed off, pointing towards your brother with your thumb, “but it was nice to see you again. Happy New Year, Frank.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you around.” He grinned, nodding.
You waved at him as you walked towards the exit, wondering if you’d ever see him again. Fortunately for you, you didn’t have to wonder for long.
A few days later, you parked your car in the mall parking lot, sighing as your mother continued her rant from the passenger seat.
“All I’m saying, sweetie, is that you should get out more. When’s the last time you left the house besides New Year’s Eve? What about one of those dating apps?”
“I don’t want to date anyone right now, Mom. I’m trying to find myself, you know?”
She scoffed. “Oh, please.”
You followed her into the mall, clutching the items you had bought for Ben before the untimely death of your relationship. Your one and only plan for the rest of your week off work was to return the gifts, but your mother had insisted on going with you, claiming she had some shopping to do. You couldn’t imagine what she could possibly need this soon after Christmas, but you didn’t want to argue with her about it.
It took forever, but you were finally at the last store you needed to make a return at. It would’ve been an easy in and out if your mom hadn’t stopped to look at every single sweater in the store. The sound of your name being called perked you out of your thoughts.
“When I said see you around, I didn’t realize it would be this soon after.”
Frank walked towards you, clutching a return receipt in his hand. You waved your receipt back at him.
“You didn’t like a gift?” You asked, eyeing the receipt.
“Oh, uh,” Frank scratched the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly, “No. I bought it for someone, but it didn’t end up working out.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “Wow. Same. I think we may have more in common than I thought. Same girl that left you alone on New Year's?”
“The one and only.” He chuckled, shuffling his feet.
The sound of your mother’s voice so close to your ear startled you. You hadn’t noticed her standing next to you.
“Who’s this?”
She had a devious smile on her face, and it took everything in you not to outwardly groan.
“This is Frank. He was my-” Frank cut you off, reaching forward to shake your mom’s hand.
“Friend in college. Nice to meet you. We were just talking about regrettable Christmas gifts.”
“Oh!” Your mom eagerly shook his hand, sending you a wink over her shoulder. “Well, I’ve been trying to tell her she needs to get out more. You know, her boyfriend ch-”
“I don’t think he’s interested in hearing about my love life, Mom.” This conversation derailed far too quickly for your liking.
“Honey, I’m just trying to help. Frank is very handsome.”
You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You probably resembled a tomato more than a human being.
“Thank you, Mom. Very helpful.” You gritted through your teeth. Your mother was nothing if not sneaky. She sent you a smirk and turned back to Frank.
“It was lovely to meet you, Frank. I hope I’ll be getting to see more of you soon.”
You gaped at her as she made her way back towards the cashmere sweaters, dreading having to look back at Frank. When you finally faced him, he was clearly trying hard not to laugh in your face.
“I’m sorry,” You groaned, running your hand through your hair, “My mom can be very forward.”
Frank let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “It’s okay. It sounds like she just wants you to be happy.”
“She has an interesting way of showing it. I mean, being single on holidays isn’t that pathetic, right? Plenty of people are single. Like Emma Watson! She’s been single since forever and she’s thriving! Oh god, you probably don’t want to hear this either. I’m sorry. I ramble when I get nervous.”
You regretted ever getting out of bed this morning. This was turning out to be the most embarrassing day of your life, and it wasn’t even 10am yet.
Frank’s face had turned thoughtful. You were a little afraid to ask him what he was thinking about.
“I have an idea,” he finally said, glancing between you and your mom, who was holding up a blue sweater and talking to an employee.
“Okay?” You cocked your head to the side.
“What if we dated?” Your eyes grew wide, “Just for the holidays, I mean. We show up together at events or parties and it keeps the questions at bay. Like a, um-”
Frank searched for the right word, and you couldn’t help the word that came out of your mouth.
“A holidate?”
Frank snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “Exactly. A holidate. It’ll get your family off your back for a little bit, and you won’t have to worry about being single. For the day, at least.”
You didn’t say anything for a long time, trying to fully comprehend what he was offering.
“What’s in it for you?”
“Same as you.” He shrugged. “My family’s like yours.”
“And it’s just for the holidays?”
“Mhmm.”
“What about the smaller holidays? Like 4th of July.”
“I’m fine with whatever you want to do about those.”
“What if one of us meets someone we like?”
“Then our problems are solved, right?”
You studied him for a moment, weighing the idea in your head. You stole a glance at your mother, who was now standing out of Frank’s direct eyeline and smiling at you and Frank.
You turned back to Frank, holding out your hand.
“Deal.”
The smile he gave you as he shook your hand sent a shiver down your spine.
Valentine's Day:
“Frank, you are not getting my mother flowers. She’s never going to let you leave.”
“I can’t show up to dinner to officially meet your family without bringing something. My mom raised me better than that.”
You were currently standing in the flower section of Kroger, picking out flowers to get your parents for their anniversary. Every year, they hosted a family dinner on Valentine’s Day to celebrate their marriage and the family that came out of it. This was officially your first go at this holidate thing, and Frank kept insisting that he had to bring flowers.
“If you absolutely have to get flowers, don’t get red roses. My dad called dibs on those 30 years ago.”
Frank grinned at your compromise and picked up the bouquet of tulips he had been eyeing. You had to give it to your mom, Frank was handsome, but the holidate deal was strictly platonic, so you turned and headed for the checkout lane.
When Frank caught up with you, he was holding not one, but two bouquets. The tulips he had picked out for your mom were bright yellow. The other bouquet had a dozen red roses in it, and it had been carefully wrapped in expensive-looking brown paper.
“Who are those for?” You couldn’t help but ask.
“Well, I can’t get my holidate’s mother flowers and not buy my holidate flowers too. That’s just unclassy.”
You followed him in stunned silence. You hadn’t been expecting that.
When you finally arrived at your parents' house, you were nervously applying and reapplying your lipstick in the passenger side mirror. You didn’t know how your family was going to react to Frank. Obviously, your mom would be pleased, but you didn’t want to sit under your sister’s scrutiny for too long. If anyone was going to figure out what you were doing, it would be her.
“You’re nervous.” Frank pointed out, watching you from the driver’s seat. “Why?”
“I’m not nervous.” You scoffed, ignoring how easily he just read your body language.
“Yes, you are, but you shouldn’t be. I’m the perfect gentleman. Parents love me. You’ll see.”
He smiled at you and jumped out of the car, running around to open your door for you.
“See? Gentleman.”
You led Frank around to the side door, hoping for a subtle entrance. This plan was almost immediately foiled when your mom busted through the door, Cheshire grin planted on her face.
“Frank! It’s so good to see you!” She brushed past your open arms, pulling Frank into a hug.
“Hello, ma’am. These are for you.” He held out the tulips, smiling.
“Oh, you.” She muttered, taking the flowers from him. She rushed through the door, calling out to your dad.
“I think it’s safe to say that I've won over your mom.” He chuckled. “You ready?” He held out his hand in question.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You sighed, intertwining your fingers in his.
Dinner was as dramatic as you expected it to be. Your dad had kept up the “tough” act for a whole 30 seconds before Frank managed to win him over. All it took was a subtle nod to your dad’s “impeccable grill set-up" for your dad to shake Frank’s hand and ask him for help grilling the steaks.
Speaking of grilling, as soon as Frank had exited the back door into your backyard, your sister immediately pulled you aside, demanding to know anything and everything about Frank. You kept your answers short but put enough detail into your responses that it seemed to win her over. Your brother had waved at Frank when you introduced him, and that was the end of that interaction. If only the rest of your family could be as relaxed as your brother was about the men in your life.
When everyone sat down for dinner, your dad gave a long-winded speech about love and had everyone toast to your mom, who never failed to cry before dinner was served every year. Frank mixed in well with your family, holding conversations on his own with everyone at some point.
The dramatics really amped up during dessert when your sister announced she was pregnant with her second baby. The room filled with gasps and excited squeals, mostly from your mom, and you watched as your mom wrapped her arms around your sister, teary eyed and smiling wide.
When everyone had finished saying their congratulations and gathered in the living room for the annual “anniversary slideshow”, you settled against the back wall, content to observe the tradition from afar. Your mom snuck up beside you, pointed look on her face.
“Don’t say it, Mom.” You mumbled, resting your head on the wall.
“I wasn’t going to say anything!” She insisted, raising her eyebrows.
“You were about to point out your lack of grandchildren from me, and I’m asking you to drop it, please.”
“Oh, fine.” She joined your dad on the couch, snuggling into his side and pressing play.
Your brother and his fiancé were also snuggling, whispering into each other’s ears and quietly giggling. It was sickeningly cute. Your brother-in-law was slowly rubbing your sister’s stomach, even though she wasn’t anywhere near showing yet. It was all annoyingly cute, and you sighed, wishing you could be anywhere else in the world.
Frank sidled up beside you, bumping your shoulder with his. He was incredibly warm, and you couldn’t help but lean a little closer to him. You told yourself it was just because your parents kept the house cooler in the winter to save money.
“What are you doing all the way over here?” He asked, lips so close to your ear that you couldn’t ignore the shiver racing down your spine.
“I’m just standing.” You responded nonchalantly, pretending to be engrossed by the pictures on the screen.
“Yes, but why are you so far away from everyone?”
You didn’t respond, finally turning your head to look at him. His face was inches away from yours. You blinked, looking between his eyes. He was fully concentrated on you, and it was making you squirm. He was an expert at focusing his attention fully on the person he was talking to. This was something you had noticed about Frank before, but it never failed to affect you.
“Do you want to go?” His voice was soft, full of concern.
“Yes.” You breathed, trying not to look at his lips.
“Okay. I’ll cause a distraction. You bolt out of the house, and I’ll meet you in the getaway car out front. But grab some of that pie on your way out.”
He was smiling, obviously just saying something to make you laugh. You tried to stop the wide grin from forming on your lips, but when he was smiling at you like this, it was impossible not to match it. He was getting too good at reading you.
“But seriously,” he started, still smiling, “I’ll say my friend accidentally cut his finger trying to seduce his Valentine’s date with a meal or something.”
Frank did exactly that, and he handled it with such grace and confidence that even you caught yourself believing him for a moment. When he closed the car door behind you and began to walk around to the other side of the car, you studied him.
There had to be something you were missing. This guy, who was seemingly full of green flags, was having the same relationship troubles as you? It didn’t make any sense. There had to be something seriously wrong with him. Otherwise, there’s no way in hell anyone would let him slip through their fingers.
When he climbed in the car, he looked at you expectantly. “Where to, Miss Daisy?”
“Want to get ice cream?” You asked, mouth watering at the thought.
“What Miss Daisy wants, Miss Daisy gets.” He chuckled at his own joke, pulling away from the curb. The silence with Frank was comfortable, and you found yourself more relaxed than you had been in months.
When you walked into the ice cream shop, you immediately regretted every decision you had ever made. You stopped mid-stride, and Frank very nearly ran into you trying to stop himself behind you.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, scoping out the store. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but then again, to any normal person, it would seem like that.
But you were focused on the couple sitting in the back of the parlor, sharing a bowl of ice cream. It was Ben, and he was spoon feeding ice cream to the girl he had cheated on you with. Frank narrowed his eyes at them, trying to put the pieces together.
“I suddenly don’t have an appetite for ice cream,” you mumbled, turning back to walk out the door. Frank’s brow was furrowed, and the expression on his face read as pure confusion, but he followed you through the door without question.
You had almost made it to Frank’s car when you heard your name being shouted behind you. Ben was slightly jogging to catch up with you, and you made a show of rolling your eyes.
“Hey! Wait!” Ben called, waving his arm.
Frank’s posture stiffened beside you, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him as he lightly pulled your waist closer to his side. Another shiver slid down your spine. You were going to have to get rid of that side effect as soon as possible.
“Hey, I just saw you leave the shop. I wanted to see how you were doing after, you know.” Ben was slightly panting. He eyed Frank’s hold on your waist, standing a little taller than before.
“I’m fine, Ben. Thanks. Bye.” You responded, looking anywhere but his face. You were not going to cry in front of Frank, and you certainly wouldn’t be giving Ben the satisfaction of an emotional breakdown at his expense.
“Who’s this?” he asked, finally acknowledging Frank.
“Frank, this is my loser ex-boyfriend. Loser ex-boyfriend, this is Frank. Are we good? Can we go now?” You asked, losing your patience.
Frank stiffened, a signal that told you he had caught on to the situation. His hand crept across your waist and settled on your stomach, pulling you fully against his front. His movement was slow, barely noticeable to anyone else, but the trail Frank’s hand left behind would be burned into your memory forever.
Ben looked between your face and Frank’s, scoffing.
“Oh, I see. He’s the rebound.” Ben nodded to himself.
Anger coated your tongue. You opened your mouth, ready to scream, when Frank’s voice cut you off.
“Buddy, why don’t you fuck off, okay? She’s clearly not interested in having this conversation with you.”
“Okay, buddy.” Ben responded, putting his hands on his hips. “I don’t think this is any of your business.”
“You made it my business when you upset her.” Frank’s deep voice reverberated through your chest. “We’re going.” He opened the car door, guiding you into the seat with a gentle push from the hand on your waist.
He didn’t have to tell you twice. You eagerly climbed in, squeezing the seatbelt as you buckled it. Frank joined you seconds later, starting the car and carefully pulling out of the spot. Your eyes didn’t leave your lap until the car was safely on the road again.
“Are you okay? God, that guy’s such an asshole. Sorry about the ice cream.” Frank gripped the steering wheel with one hand, resting his other arm on the windowsill and running his hand through his hair.
“I’m fine.” Your voice was meek compared to Frank’s deep one.
“You’re not, but that’s okay. You’re allowed to be upset.”
You stayed silent, counting the streetlights as you drove past them. Frank didn’t pry. He put the radio on a low volume and quietly hummed along to the Sum-41 song playing. After a while, he turned into a gas station parking lot, pulling into one of the spots in front of the store. You looked around, confused.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back. Lock the door.” He moved to get out of the car, but stopped when you made a noise of discontent, raising your hands in the air in question.
“Wait! What are you doing?” You asked, exasperated.
“I promised you ice cream, didn’t I?” He smiled, climbing out of the car. Your fingers fell along the arm rest, pressing the lock button. You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face as you watched him walk away from the car.
Easter:
Easter was a holiday that you hadn’t celebrated until you were a few years into your adulthood. Your parents didn’t press religion onto you or your siblings when you were growing up, but your sister had married into a somewhat religious family, so the annual Easter egg hunt they hosted had become a regular part of your Easter plans.
When you called him, Frank had insisted that his family could spend the day without him. You hadn’t spoken to him much since Valentine’s Day, but you smiled when he immediately said he’d be there, holidate ready.
He showed up, sporting a button-down shirt and slacks. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, and he had let his hair grow out a little. You tried not to stare as he opened the car door for you, ever the gentleman.
“Have you been okay?” he asked, lightly tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing on the radio.
“Actually, yes.” For the first time in months, you didn’t have to lie when someone asked you that question. Ben was a memory you had all but forgotten about.
“That’s great. I'm glad you called. My family was trying to force me into dressing up like the Easter Bunny for my nieces and nephews.” He shuddered at the thought.
Your head whipped around. “You have siblings?” you asked, genuinely surprised. He had never mentioned them before.
“I have a brother and a sister, like you. They both have a million kids. I love them, but they couldn’t pay me enough to dress up in a giant, fuzzy bunny costume.”
You threw your head back against the headrest, laughing loudly.
“You never told me that!”
“You never asked.” He responded, raising an eyebrow at you and smiling.
“Hmmm. Let’s change that.”
You spent the drive asking him every question you could think of. His favorite color was purple, even though he didn’t own anything that even remotely resembled the color. He didn’t have a favorite tv-show because he didn’t ever turn the tv on in his apartment. He loves dogs, but never adopted any because he thinks they should have a big backyard to run around in. He has a perfect attendance record at work because he never gets sick.
When you pulled up in front of your sister’s house, you still had a million questions for him, but your mom’s waving hand at the front door forced you out of the car. Frank grabbed onto your hand as you walked up the driveway and squeezed it. You tried not to blush. Why did he have to be so God damned dreamy?
He pulled his hand away to give your mom a hello hug. She winked at you over his shoulder, and your eyes stung at the thought of the holidate deal coming to an end. She was going to be heartbroken. She really liked Frank. You and Frank hadn’t discussed how long you’d be each other’s holidates, but you knew he would eventually meet someone else and have to put an end to your deal.
“Frank, I’m so glad you’re here. Uncle Steve was supposed to be the bunny, but he fell off his motorcycle last night and can’t walk without crutches. What a shame. But we really need an Easter Bunny.” She shook her head sadly, clasping her hands together.
The cackle that came out of you was obnoxious, but you didn’t care. This was the best thing that could’ve possibly happened. Frank looked back at you, eyebrows raised.
“You didn’t mention that your family also did the ‘dress up like the Easter Bunny’ thing.” He muttered, expectant look in his eyes.
“You never asked.” You responded, wiping the tears gathering under your eyes. Another fit of giggles had you gasping for air. You clutched your stomach, taking deep breaths, and then immediately busted out laughing again when your mom appeared with the bunny head in her hands.
You spent the afternoon laughing every time Frank walked by you in the costume. He looked so defeated, but he was putting on a good show for the kids, who loved him. When it was time for dinner, Frank fell into his seat next to you. He looked exhausted, but the grin he sent you was to die for.
“You could’ve told her no, you know?” You said, patting his hand.
“I know, but it made you smile, so I didn’t want to.”
Frank said this nonchalantly, but you felt his words in your gut. The chime of a knife on a wine glass stole your chance to respond. Frank lightly ran his fingers along your hand, and you spent the entire speech and prayer focused solely on the feeling of his skin against yours. If someone asked you about the speech, you’d be at a loss for words. You didn’t hear a word of it.
After dinner, you had drunk so much wine that you excused yourself to the bathroom. Your sister busted through the door approximately 30 seconds after you had entered the bathroom, slamming it shut behind her.
“Okay, it’s not like I’m in the middle of peeing or anything.”
“Oh, shush. I need to talk to you.” Her hand subconsciously rested on her stomach. She was showing a little bit, and her lilac dress showed off her baby bump perfectly.
“What is so important that you couldn’t wait for me to finish peeing?”
She smirked, leaning against the door. “It looks like it’s going good with Frank.”
“Oh my god. This could definitely wait until I was done.”
“We’ve all noticed it. I mean, come on. The bunny suit? He did that for you, not the kids.”
“Yeah,” you mumbled, trying your best to nod enthusiastically.
Your sister’s face fell. “What? Is he not good in bed or something?”
“What? No! I mean, I don’t know. We haven’t-”
“Oh, is he one of those wait til marriage kind of people?”
“No! Well, I don’t know.” You threw your hands up in exasperation. You couldn’t imagine Frank being bad in bed, but that was something you had been strictly not thinking about.
“What are you hiding?” She asked, eyeing you. You should’ve known she would see through this eventually. You rested your elbows on your knees, dropping your face into your hands.
“It’s not...real.” You finally mumbled. “We’re just faking it on the holidays for our families. A holidate, ya know?”
“A holidate.” She repeated, voice full of confusion.
“A holidate.” You sat back, looking up at her.
“But he doesn’t look at you like it’s fake.” She shook her head, crossing her arms.
“That’s the point. It’s an act. You can’t tell anyone, especially Mom.” You pleaded with her.
“This could end very poorly.” She said after a pause, concern lacing her words.
“I know.” You nodded slowly, then sent her a playful glare. “Can I wipe, now? In private?”
Your sister left, quietly shutting the door behind her. You stood in the bathroom for an extra few minutes, contemplating the decisions that led you to this point. When you finally rejoined Frank at the table, he was engrossed in a conversation with your dad. He didn’t look at you, but he grabbed your hand, pulling it into his lap. Your sister sent you a pointed look, which you promptly ignored. The pattern Frank drew into your skin burned so hotly that it felt like a brand.
4th of July:
The 4th of July was always a huge affair for your family. Your parents rented a cabin on the lake and invited everyone and their grandmother to spend the weekend there, and this year, you were being upgraded to your own bedroom, courtesy of Frank’s presence. In the years you were with Ben, he had never joined you for the 4th of July celebration, so you had always been stuffed into a room with someone else. But not this year.
When you called Frank, it was the first time you’d actually spoken in over a month. The few text check-ins barely counted as a conversation, and they were usually brief. You had nervously paced around the room as you listened to the ringing on the other line, hoping it’d go to voicemail. It was a big step, even if it was technically fake. Not only would Frank be spending the night with you, but he’d also be sharing a bed with you, which was a terrifying thought.
Frank picked up, panting into the phone. His grunts were downright sinful, and you momentarily forgot what you were calling him about.
“Am I interrupting something?” You asked, mind immediately jumping to the worst conclusion.
“I’m at the gym, but I didn’t want to miss your call. What’s up, buttercup?”
You explained the situation, pacing back and forth around your kitchen when you got to the ‘one bed’ part.
“Of course, I’ll come. I wouldn’t miss it. Do you want me to stay somewhere else?”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I can tell you’re walking a hole into your floor right now. We don’t have to share a bed if you don’t want to. I can stay at a hotel or something.”
“No! I mean-” you paused, closing your eyes, “I just meant that if you would be uncomfortable, you don’t have to come. I didn’t want to pressure you into anything. I don’t mind sharing a bed if you don’t”
You bit your lip, waiting for his response.
“Cool. I’ll drive. What time are we leaving?”
And that was that. Frank picked you up in his car, so giddy about the trip that he was practically bouncing up and down. The drive there wasn’t too long, but you spent the time catching up with Frank. Besides the occasional text, you really didn’t talk to him often when it wasn’t a holiday. After the conversation with your sister on Easter, you had set boundaries with yourself. You only let yourself think about him some of the time, and you certainly didn’t reach out to him. It was better if you distanced yourself from him on the regular days of the year.
Frank insisted on unloading the car himself and wouldn’t let you lift a finger to help. He even carried your purse in for you. Your mom hugged him so tightly you winced out of sympathy for the poor man. Frank was a big man, but your mom could summon the strength of three grizzly bears when she wanted to.
Frank said his hellos, shaking your dad’s hand and asking your sister about her pregnancy. Being only 2 months away from her due date, she was fully showing now. When you finally made it to the room you were sharing with Frank, you were so nervous you started to gnaw on the inside of your cheek.
The bed was big, but so was Frank. He’d take up at least two-thirds of the space. You didn’t let yourself think about tonight, or the rest of the weekend. That was a problem for future you. Your brother bolted past the doorway, stopping only to invite you both to swim in the lake before he took off again. He was only a couple years younger than you, but he had the energy of a 12-year-old boy.
“Do you want to go?” Frank asked, flopping onto the bed. He propped his head on his hands, which were stretched behind him. His shirt had risen up, giving you a full view of his happy trail. Your mouth dried at the sight.
“Oh, sure.” You finally responded, shaking the thoughts from your head. “Do you?”
“Whatever you want to do is fine with me. Your mom’s not going to make me dress up like a giant firework, is she?”
You stifled a laugh, reaching for your swimsuit. “I don’t think so, but you never know with her.”
Frank closed his eyes, settling into the mattress.
“You can change. I won’t peek. Holidate’s honor.”
The idea of being bare in front of Frank was not something you had prepared yourself for, and you could feel yourself begin to sweat. You slowly closed the door, which increased the heat in the room to suffocating levels.
You studied Frank, whose eyes remained closed. He looked peaceful in this position, unbothered by the trials and tribulations of life. You slowly unbuttoned your shorts, pushing them down your legs. Your gaze remained on Frank, blissfully unaware of what he was doing to you. Heat pounded between your thighs, and you couldn’t help the image that popped into your head of Frank’s head dipped between. You bit your lip, watching as Frank shifted his hips on the bed and cleared his throat.
The sound of your brother’s footsteps stomping past the closed door startled you out of your thoughts. A cold wave washed over you, chilling you to your bones. You hurried to put the rest of your swimsuit on, almost falling over in the process.
You stepped out of the room, taking a deep breath. This weekend was going to be rough, and you had only been there for 15 minutes. When Frank joined you outside, you had to look away in order not to groan. Frank was unreasonably fit, muscles bulging in places you didn’t even know muscles existed. You focused on rubbing sunscreen into your skin, looking everywhere but at Frank.
He stopped behind you, grabbing the bottle of sunscreen off the table. You froze when you felt his hands gathering your hair, moving it in front of your shoulders. He squirted sunscreen on his hands and began lathering it across your back and shoulders. You watched the group of people gathered around the lake, taking turns swinging into the water off a rope. The only thing that stopped you from turning around and slamming your lips against Frank’s was the horrible awkwardness that would settle between you for the entire weekend if Frank rebuffed your advances.
His hands worked their way down your back, stopping millimeters above the waistline of your bikini.
“All done.” His voice was husky in your ear. You slowly turned around, looking up at Frank. He brought his hand up to your shoulder, rolling the strap of your bikini between his fingers.
“Purple.” He observed. “I like this color.”
He stepped around you, taking your hand in his and tugging your arm. You tried not to stare at his ass as he led you down to the lake.
Later, after hours of swimming and eating the burgers your dad had grilled for everyone, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Even though the lake water had been freezing, and you had spent most of dinner leaning into Frank’s natural body heat, you had taken an ice cold shower. Frank was in the room, already showered and probably in bed. You prayed that he would be asleep when you finally got the courage to enter the room.
You took a breath, stepping out of the bathroom and making your way down the hall. When you stepped into the dark room, Frank was lying flat on his back in bed, scrolling through his phone.
You crawled into the bed, doing your best to avoid touching Frank. Frank was broad, though, and your shoulder ended up touching his no matter what position you laid in.
“Jesus,” he mumbled, turning on his side and facing you, “you’re freezing.”
You cleared your throat. “I’m fine.”
He gave you a flat stare, pressing his shoulder into yours. You pushed back, settling against him. Your body seemed to have a mind of its own. Frank was warm, and you really were freezing after your cold shower, so you relaxed into the touch, shutting your eyes. The back of Frank’s hand brushed yours as you fell into a deep sleep next to him.
The next evening, you watched as Frank and your dad set up the firework area that everyone would be gathering around soon. Your sister lounged in the chair next to you, fanning herself.
“Why don’t you just date instead of faking it? You act like a couple already.”
“Because that wasn’t the deal, and who says he even sees me like that?”
“Do you see him like that?”
“I don’t know. No.” You shook your head. “It’s not like that.”
“That suggestive sunscreen job I witnessed yesterday says differently.”
You didn’t want to argue with her, so you remained quiet, watching Frank’s back muscles flex as he lifted a piece of wood and chunked it to the side. When he made his way back to you, he was coated in sweat, which somehow made him even better to look at. He smiled at you, stopping to press a kiss on the top of your head. Your sister shot you a look when he continued walking towards the cabin.
When it was finally dark enough to shoot off fireworks, your dad counted down, setting off a huge firework when he got to zero. The night took a turn for the worse shortly after that.
It had started with your brother jokingly shooting a firework near you that landed a little too close for comfort. Frank had a competitive side apparently, thus began an outright firework war that ended faster than it began. You ran for the cabin, stopping when you heard the unmistakable sound of Frank grunting in pain.
He had fallen to the ground, clutching his hand to his chest. You turned on your heels, bolting to Frank and falling to your knees in front of him. His finger was missing, and you did your very best not to puke all over your severely injured holidate.
“Oh my god. Oh my GOD. Frank!” You faintly heard the sound of someone calling an ambulance behind you. You clutched the sides of his face, trying to figure out what to do. Your brother was searching the ground around you, and you balked in horror when you realized he was looking for Frank’s finger.
“Is it bad?” Frank asked, grunting when he tried to lift his hand.
“Is it bad?” You repeated, incredulously, “Yes, it’s bad. Where the fuck is your finger, Frank?”
He barked out a laugh, and then groaned at the movement.
“You’re the only person who’d get mad at someone with a missing finger.”
“This is totally karma getting us back for lying to my parents on Valentine’s Day!”
The ambulance arrived shortly after that, and you jumped into the back with Frank before the paramedics could tell you any differently. You spent hours in the waiting room as Frank had his finger surgically attached, drinking shitty coffee and flipping through the months-old magazines on the table. When the doctor finally told you he was ready to be seen, you had to stop yourself from running down the hall towards him.
He was in a recovery room, lying on the bed in a hospital gown.
“How are you feeling?” You asked, plopping down on the chair next to the bed. The hand that had lost the finger was wrapped in pounds of gauze, propped up on a pillow.
“Like shit.” He grumbled, taking your hand in his uninjured one. “I totally ruined your family’s holiday.”
“Frank, my brother is the one that shot your finger off. You didn’t ruin anything. I’ve gotten about 75,000 texts asking for updates on you since we got here. They’re not worried about the holiday, they’re worried about you. ”
“This is the worst holidate ever.” He moaned, exaggerating his eye roll.
You giggled, resting your chin on your free hand.
“At least you still have all your extremities.”
He chuckled, looking at his injured hand.
“Thanks for staying.” He squeezed your hand as he said it, looking over at you.
“Holidates don’t leave holidates behind.”
Halloween:
Halloween was something you hadn’t officially celebrated in years, but your brother was finally getting hitched, and you were actually pretty excited about it. Frank was coming as your plus-one and holidate, even though technically the event wasn’t holiday related. It was the same weekend as Halloween, so Frank had insisted on joining you. He had even gone as far as pointing out that it would be strange for you to show up to the wedding alone, considering how long he’d been attending family events with you.
Your mother had done all of the hotel booking, so you and Frank were sharing room again, but you weren’t as nervous this time around about that. The weeks after the finger incident had changed something between you and Frank. At first, you basically lived on his couch, waking him up throughout the night to give him the medicine his doctor had prescribed him. You had to help him button his shirts for work, a task you still thought about daily, and stocked his fridge with meals that he wouldn't have to fuss over with his injured hand.
It was now a fairly regular occurrence to hear from Frank throughout the day. A random text every few hours, or a phone call during his lunch break was something you’d grown used to in your daily routine. You still didn’t know what you were doing. The idea of actually dating someone was terrifying, but you couldn’t decide if it was worse than the idea of not seeing Frank.
Frank’s voice coaxed you out of your deep thoughts.
“I can’t get this bowtie to sit right.” Frank called from the bathroom.
You moved towards his voice, clutching the front of your dress.
“Zip me, please.” You mumbled, turning your back to him. He obliged, running his cool knuckles up your spine as he zipped the dress up. You focused on the bowtie, undoing the ridiculous knot he had wound into it while trying to fix it.
“You look great. Beautiful.” He sighed, looking you over.
You smiled. “You’re only saying that because the dress I’m wearing is purple.” You didn’t mention that you had picked this dress out specifically because of the color.
“I can like the color and also like you in the color. They don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”
You retied the bowtie, patting his chest when you finished. “You look good, too.”
“You’re making me blush.” He chuckled, leading you out the door.
Your sister met you in the lobby, holding the newest addition to the family in her arms. She had gone into labor in the middle of September, bringing your nephew into the world a short 6 hours later. Frank’s first interaction with him had been so annoyingly adorable that your mother didn’t stop sending you meaningful looks for hours afterwards.
The ceremony was short, but as weird as you expected it to be. Anything your brother was involved in guaranteed a strange experience, but Frank didn’t seem to mind. He spent the ceremony clutching your hand between his and toying with the fabric of your dress.
The reception is when it got really interesting. You finally escaped the dance floor, where your dad was thoroughly drunk and had been whipping you around in circles for what felt like hours. You stepped off the raised floor, heading directly for Frank, who had been watching you dance with a bemused expression on his face.
“That looked fun.” He observed, passing you the glass of water on the table.
You gulped it down, all too aware of Frank’s heated gaze. You could always tell when he was looking at you. A fiery shock would slide down your spine and settle deep in your bones when his eyes were on you. You never got used to it, but tonight you decided to welcome the feeling.
Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe you were just tired of sitting on the relationship fence with Frank, but you leaned over him, giving him an unrestricted view down your dress as you set the empty glass down on the table. He remained unfazed, glancing over your shoulder at the dance floor.
You tried not to look disappointed. You had spent so much time with him that maybe you had created a false narrative about him. It had been 10 months since you’d reconnected, and he’d only ever been affectionate with you when you were in front of your family. Which, you reminded yourself, was the deal.
You shook your head, ridding the thoughts from your head. You held out your hand in question, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Dance with me.”
A goofy smile spread across his face. “It'd be an honor, ma’am.”
You led him across the dance floor, swaying to the music that had changed from fast paced to slow and romantic. Your steps were clumsy and awkward, but that didn’t deter Frank.
“Let me lead.” He mumbled, looking down at your feet.
“I can’t not lead. I always lead.” You respond, trying and failing to relinquish your control.
“Let me lead.” He repeated, squeezing your waist. “Relax.”
You took a deep breath, following his steps as best you could. It was rather nice, dancing with a man that you could trust to guide you around the dance floor. With Ben, you’d always had to lead. He was a terrible dancer. Frank, though, was a natural.
He effortlessly led you around the floor, pulling you closer every time he spun you around. Your chest was fully pressed against his, and he smiled as he rested his forehead against yours. You couldn’t hide the ridiculous smile that mirrored his. On any other occasion, you would pull away and stick to the holidate rules, but tonight didn’t feel like a holidate date, so you stayed exactly where you were, cheesing so hard your cheeks were beginning to hurt.
His eyes darted down to your lips, and then quickly returned to your eyes. You couldn’t help it. You leaned in, just barely grazing his lips with your own. It didn’t qualify as a kiss. It barely qualified as anything, but the expression on Frank’s face had you reeling back. You couldn’t tell if he was upset, confused, or mad, but you opened your mouth to apologize anyways.
“I’m-”
The feedback from the microphone cut you off. Frank’s grip on your waist tightened as you whirled around, looking toward the stage. It was time for the ‘father of the bride’ speech, and you couldn’t believe how unlucky the timing was.
You didn’t look at Frank as you made your way back to your family’s table. Instead, you grabbed your nephew out of your sister’s hands, rocking him in your arms as the speech began. You didn’t need to look up to know Frank was staring at you. He hadn’t stopped since you’d barely kissed him moments before. Heat traveled up your neck and across your cheeks. You felt like crying, but you didn’t know why. Did you just ruin possibly the best friendship you’d ever had by misreading the situation?
The speech finished, and you went to hand your nephew back to your sister, when the worst possible thing that could’ve happened, happened. Your nephew, cute and as bubbly as could be, decided he wanted to projectile vomit all over your chest. You didn’t move for several moments, trying to comprehend everything that led to this moment.
Your sister wouldn’t stop apologizing as she took the baby from you. The anxious ringing in your ears was back, and you couldn’t breathe. Tonight was going so poorly, and you were so overwhelmed with Frank that frustrated and embarrassed tears began pouring down your cheeks. You could feel Frank’s hand wrap around your wrist as you turned towards the exit, but you shrugged him off, moving out of the reception hall and towards the elevators in the lobby of the hotel.
You knew you’d have to face him eventually, but all you could think about was getting out of there, away from his overpowering presence. When you finally got to your room, you couldn’t stop the overflow of tears. Your dress was ruined, probably cursed to smell like baby puke forever, and your makeup was so smeared it would have to be completely redone if you wanted to return to the reception.
You decided you had had enough of dancing. You stripped your dress off, stepping into the boiling hot shower. You wiped your face, staining the white washcloth black. Your fists squeezed into tight balls as the bathroom door opened and shut.
“Are you okay?”
Frank’s voice was soft, and tears welled up in your eyes again at the sound of it. He was always so nice.
“Why do I feel like you’re always asking me that?” You finally responded, resting your head against the cool tile of the shower wall.
“You’ve had an off year. We all have ‘em. Are you okay, though?”
The sympathy in his voice caused even more tears to fall down your face. You couldn’t even figure out why you were crying anymore.
“I’m...I don’t know.” You mumbled, wiping your cheeks. “I don’t know. Is that okay?”
“Of course. But you’re allowed to not be okay. I’m here for you either way.”
You groaned, closing your eyes. “Happy fuckin’ Halloween.” You mumbled.
You turned the shower off, drying yourself off with the towel hanging on the wall of the shower opposite the shower head. You opened the curtain, clutching the towel to your chest. Frank was sitting on the toilet lid, leaning against the back of the toilet, looking directly at you. His gaze was hard to read.
“We don’t have to go back, do we?” You asked, stepping out of the shower.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” He stood, moving to lean against the counter next to you.
You gazed at your reflection. A few tear paths, stained with mascara, were scattered across your cheeks. You rubbed them with the palm of your hand, trying to wipe away any of the remnants of tonight.
“Beautiful.” Frank mumbled, looking at you through the reflection of the mirror.
“What?” You asked, meeting his gaze.
“You’re beautiful, even when your makeup is all over the place.”
“Oh.” You breathed, turning away from the mirror to face him.
He took a step forward, towering over you. His hand cupped your cheek, and he swiftly leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. The spark was electric, snapping the restraint in both of you. You pressed against him, opening your mouth for him to explore. He groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You didn’t let yourself think of the consequences as you dropped your towel, fully bare before him. He pulled away, looking your body up and down, before reconnecting his mouth with yours. You pulled on his bowtie, undoing the knot you had tied so many hours earlier. The buttons on his shirt slid apart easily, and suddenly Frank was tugging his shirt off, dropping it to the floor behind him. He cupped the back of your knees, hoisting you into the air as you gripped his back and wrapped your legs around his waist.
He carried you into the bedroom, grunting as he fell on top of you on the soft mattress. His tongue made its way down your neck and onto your chest. He licked a path down your sternum and onto your stomach, planting kisses along the way. His path downward stopped suddenly as he lightly kissed and sucked on your hip, leaving what was sure to be a mark the next day.
He lifted your legs, resting them on his shoulders. He looked up, lustful and heated in his gaze.
“Can I?” He asked, squeezing your thighs.
“Oh, please.” You responded, spreading your legs wider for him.
He dove in, tongue lapping at your cunt. The moan you let out would surely wake whatever unlucky neighbors you had on either side of your room. You arched your back, giving him more access. His tongue made slow circles up your slit, settling just below your clit. He left kitten licks all around it, grinning every time you moaned. You scoffed when you realized what he was doing. He was teasing you.
You let out a frustrated whine, arching your back further.
“You need somethin’, darlin’?” He asked, punch drunk on your pussy.
“I need you, Frank.” You whined, looking down at him.
His gaze darkened, and you were almost afraid of what would come next. He finally, finally, circled your clit with his tongue. You saw stars, letting out the most uncouth moan you’d ever heard yourself make. He flattened his tongue, licking from your clit to your cunt and back again. Your legs began to shake, and he tightened his grip on your thighs.
He drew figure eights with his tongue, sucking and licking you until you were so close you thought you might explode. He ate pussy like a man starved, and when your orgasm finally crashed over you, white-hot and all encompassing, you thought you might never reach that level of euphoria again.
He rested his head on your thigh, grinning as he watched you come down from what was probably the best orgasm you’d ever have in your lifetime. Your heart was racing, and you let out several unsteady breaths. Your entire body was numb, and you couldn’t feel anything but bliss inside of you. Frank had wrecked you with his tongue, and all you could think about was doing it again.
He crawled up your body, hovering over you. He ran his hands through your hair a few times before settling his gaze on yours.
“Let's do that again.” You sighed, skin buzzing where he touched you.
He chuckled, pressing a kiss onto the bridge of your nose. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. He was still wearing his dress pants, and you wiggled with discontent.
“You’re too clothed, sir.” You said, grinning.
“Yeah?” He asked, sitting back on his heels.
“Yes.” You replied, watching as he slowly removed his belt. The sight of him kneeling over you, removing his clothes, was drool worthy. You had to remind yourself to close your mouth as he got off the bed and dropped his pants to the floor.
The front of his briefs were stained with wetness, precum soaking through the fabric. Your mouth watered and you swallowed thickly as he stroked his hard cock, stepping out of his pants and underwear. Frank naked was a sight to behold. His cock was veiny and long, and your legs widened out of sheer shock.
He smirked, pumping his cock again. You bit your lip to hide the moan crawling up your throat. He leaned over, pulling a condom out of his wallet.
“Do you always keep condoms in your wallet when you’re a plus one to a wedding?” You ask, genuinely curious.
“Only when my dates are incredibly sexy and wear my favorite color.”
“Oh, so this happens often?” You tried to sound seductive instead of insecure, which is the feeling that began bubbling in your chest.
“No. Not until tonight.” He shook his head, eyes following the curve of your hips and settling between your thighs. He slid the condom on and crawled over you again.
Relief washed over you, and you spread your legs wider, inviting him to use you as he pleased. Your groans filled the room as he pushed into you, inch by inch until he was fully inside of you. It stung a little, considering how long it had been since you’d had sex with anyone, but he didn’t move, cradling your face and waiting for you to give him a signal that he could positively fuck you into the mattress.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his mouth to yours. His thrusts started slow, but the heat in your kiss sent another shock to both of your systems, and soon he was pounding into you. Skin met skin in a sinful, symphonic rhythm that overtook the room. He grunted into your ear when you lifted your hips, allowing him to push deeper into you.
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him with every deep thrust. Your heart pounded as he thrusted into you, over and over, pushing you closer to the edge. Your moans got louder, and that seemed to motivate him into fucking you harder into the mattress underneath you. He dipped his head into your neck, sucking the sensitive skin and leaving small marks in his wake. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears of pleasure rolling down the sides of your face. You’d never been fucked this good before, and the only logical reaction your body could think of was to cry.
He kissed the tears, smiling as you clenched around him. He reached down, settling his finger on your sensitive clit. It took about 3 seconds before your body couldn’t handle the overwhelming pleasure washing over you. You moaned loudly, orgasm shattering through you. He groaned, squeezing you tighter against him. You both met your highs, hearts pounding wildly in your chests as you came.
His thrusts slowed, until he finally stopped, breathing hard over you. Your body was so blissed out that it took you several minutes before you could open your eyes. Frank kissed your nose again, pulling out of you. You both groaned with oversensitivity.
He disposed of the condom, falling onto the bed next to you.
“Are you okay?” He asked, still breathing heavier than normal.
You could barely hear him. The pounding in your chest had moved to your ears.
“Mhmm.” You sighed, snuggling into the comforter under your head. “You?”
“I’m in awe of you. I always am.”
He grasped your hand, pushing the covers back and helping you crawl under them. He settled next to you in the bed, running his fingers through your hair. Your heavy eyelids tracked the movements, watching him watch you. The expression on his face was unreadable, but sleep was fast approaching, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to question it. You could barely keep your eyes open, the last thing you remember being the soft press of Frank’s lips on your forehead.
//
A pounding at the door woke you from your deep slumber. The hotel room was filled with daylight, and you shielded your eyes as you tried to find your bearings. Frank was next to you, lying on his stomach and hugging the pillow under his head.
Another knock at the door had you jumping to your feet, grabbing an extra blanket and wrapping it around yourself as you made your way to the door. You opened it to your very concerned-looking sister.
“You’re alive.” She observed, glancing over your blanket wrapped body, “And naked.”
“Yes, thank you. Is that all?” You gritted your teeth, unintentionally snarling.
She looked over your shoulder at Frank’s sleeping form and back at you.
“Didn’t you agree with me that this would be a bad idea?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“And you did it anyways?”
“Yes.” You rolled your eyes, itching to slam the door in her face and crawl back into bed with Frank.
“You’re going to get hurt. Or hurt him. Or both.” She stated, matter-of-factly.
“I haven’t thought that far ahead, yet.” You admitted, leaning your head against the doorframe.
Frank shifted behind you, and you looked at your sister incredulously. “Are we done?”
“Check out is in an hour. That’s all I wanted to come tell you.” She said, floating down the hallway towards her room. You closed the door, rolling your eyes again.
You turned, intent on forgetting the entire interaction, when you noticed Frank sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“Hey.” You said softly, moving towards him.
“Hey.” His response was blunt, voice hard and cold. He stood, sliding past you. He didn’t even spare you a glance as he rifled through his bag, quickly getting dressed. You sat on the bed, watching him move around the room and gather his stuff.
You didn’t know what to say, or why it had gotten so awkward all of the sudden. You chewed your lip nervously. He finally looked over at you, resting his hands on his hips.
“Can you check us out on your own?” He asked, seemingly annoyed.
Your brow furrowed. “Um,” You started, trying to figure out where his coldness was coming from, “Yeah, I can do it.”
“Okay.” He nodded, lifting his bag. “I’ll see you in a few weeks then?” His voice had softened a little bit, but the expression on his face was still cold.
“Yeah.” You responded, not knowing what else to say. He walked out of the hotel room, not sparing a glance behind him. You watched as the door clicked shut, and you took a deep shuttering breath. Tears prickled behind your eyes, and you didn’t know what else to do besides packing your stuff. When you got to the lobby 20 minutes later, Frank was nowhere to be found.
Thanksgiving:
This was probably the most nervous you’d ever been to see Frank, even more than Valentine’s Day when you’d officially started being holidates. You had barely spoken to him since Halloween, which bothered you more than you thought it would. You’d grown so used to his daily texts and phone calls that the radio silence was increasingly frustrating. When you’d texted him to ask if he was still coming to your parents' house for Thanksgiving, he’d sent a simple ‘yes’ 12 hours later.
You were perplexed by Frank’s behavior, but you chalked it up to overthinking your night with him. You’d never agreed to anything more than holidates with him, and you couldn’t just assume that Frank would be different with you after having sex with you. You had simply misread the signals he’d been sending you, and that was your fault.
Your mother hadn’t stopped audibly sighing since you’d shown up on the front porch alone. You hadn’t talked to Frank about riding together, so you’d texted him that you were driving yourself. He hadn’t responded, and it was now 15 minutes past the time he was supposed to be here.
“Are you sure he’s coming, honey?” Your mom asked, fiddling with the oven mitts on the counter.
“He said he’d be here.” You muttered, trying not to look at the clock again.
Your phone buzzed, and you read a text from Frank: ‘I’m outside.’
You walked out to the front porch, where you met Frank, who was holding two bouquets of flowers in his hands.
“More flowers?” You asked, looking at the beautiful array of orange, yellow, and red flowers he had picked out.
“Of course. You know I never show up empty handed.”
“I’m surprised you showed up at all.” You couldn’t keep the bite out of your tone as you said what you’d been worrying about since Halloween.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Frank didn’t raise his voice, and for that you were glad, but the tone was definitely sharper than you were used to.
“I just meant that you haven’t been very communicative lately. If you met someone else, that’s fine, but I need to know that stuff so I can tell my family we broke up.” You crossed your arms and shuffled your feet.
“Is that what you want?” He asked, eyeing you.
“What?”
“To break up.”
“We’re not together, Frank. It’s not real.”
He inhaled sharply, nodding.
“Okay.” He said finally, handing you both bouquets. He turned, stalking back towards his car.
“Where are you going?” The tremble in your voice was entirely too noticeable, and you kicked yourself for being so emotional over this non-relationship.
“Home. We're not fake-together anymore. Remember? Tell your mom sorry for the inconvenience.”
He climbed into his car and pulled away from the curb at an alarming pace. You stood there, dumbfounded, watching his car until you couldn’t see it anymore. The tears that you’d spent the last few weeks holding in finally made an appearance, and sobs began to overwhelm your body.
You had totally fucked everything up, and now you had to go inside and tell your family that you and Frank had broken up. The thought of it made you cry even harder.
The door opened behind you, and you felt the soft embrace of your sister around you.
“I’m so sorry, honey.” She mumbled into your back, squeezing you into a hug.
“I don’t know what happened.” You said, clutching the flowers to your chest.
“I know, sweetie. I’m sorry.”
She held you for longer than you care to admit before you finally went inside to deliver the news.
Christmas:
You layed on your parents’ couch, watching as your mom slowly decorated the Christmas tree in the living room. You usually helped her, but you’d been a wreck since a few weeks ago at Thanksgiving, and your mom hadn’t asked for your help, just your company.
The tree came together perfectly – it always did when your mother was involved – and you tried not to think about Frank, or the fact that you hadn’t been able to sleep or eat since you’d seen him last.
When your mom sat on the couch next to you, she sighed, which was always a sign that she had something important to discuss. You tried not to outwardly groan.
“Honey,” she started, taking your hand in hers, “I know you miss Frank, but you can’t let this ruin your happiness. He is very handsome and nice, and I don’t know what happened between you two, but I need you to remember that you deserve a kind and forgiving love like the rest of us. If he can’t offer that, he’s not worth your time.”
The overwhelming urge to come clean to your mom about the entire thing ate at you as you listened to her. You responded before you could lose the nerve.
“Mom, I made a mistake.”
She nodded, leaning forward to listen to you.
“Frank wasn’t really my boyfriend. We were faking it, so that you and dad would stop worrying about me. Except, I think I really fell for him, and then everything went to shit, and I think I accidentally fell in love with him, and I don’t know what to do.”
Your voice cracked, and another wave of tears fell down your face. The only thing you could manage to do lately was cry, and it was beginning to drain you of your will to function.
“Oh, honey.” She chuckled, squeezing your hand against her chest. “We don’t care if you have a boyfriend or not. We just want you to be happy, sweetie. And I’m sorry if it came across like we were trying to marry you off. We just wanted you to find someone who could make you as happy as we make each other.”
She pulled you into a hug and rubbed your back in a soothing pattern as you cried into her chest.
“You know, we’ve never seen you as happy as you were with Frank.” She murmured.
“It wasn’t real, Mom.” You muttered, shaking your head.
“You can’t fake that. He looked at you like you hung the moon. And you looked at him the same way. Even if it started as something fake, that’s not something you can fake for long.”
You stayed quiet, mulling over her words.
“You should call him.” She suggested, shrugging her shoulders.
“I can’t call him. We fake broke-up.”
“You can do anything you set your mind to.” She stated, raising her chin. “I didn’t raise you to give up so easily.” She flicked your nose, smiling. “Do you want some hot chocolate? I’ll make it the way you like.”
You sent her a small smile, nodding. “Yeah, thanks.”
After she made it to the kitchen, you pulled out your phone. You weren’t going to call him, you weren’t insane, but you could text him.
You asked him if you could talk and watched as the bubbles next to his name appeared, disappeared, and then reappeared on the screen. Your phone buzzed, and an uneasy feeling settled in your gut.
‘Yes. Can you meet me at the Christmas tree farm off of Jones?’
You jumped up, pulling on your boots and yelling at your mom not to make the hot chocolate.
“Where are you going?” She exclaimed, briskly walking into the living room. You were already a foot out the door.
“Frank!” You yelled behind you, running to your car.
The drive was frustratingly long, and you didn’t remember there being so many stoplights in town, and of course you hit every red light.
When you pulled into the lot, you spotted Frank’s tall frame looking over a sad-looking tree. You got out, slowly making your way towards him. When you finally stopped next to him, you were convinced you might bite a hole through your cheek.
“This looks like Charlie Brown’s tree.” You stated.
“There aren’t any good ones left. I waited too long to get a tree.” He responded, shuffling his feet. You still hadn’t looked at each other.
“Why’d you wait so long?” You asked, stalling.
“I wanted to get one with you.”
You looked at him, eyebrows raised.
“With me?”
He nodded, finally meeting your gaze. You didn’t know what else to do, so you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. His arms tightly surrounded you, breathing you in for the first time in weeks.
“I missed you.” He whispered, squeezing you for emphasis.
“I missed you, too.” You murmured.
When you pulled away, tears threatened to spill on your cheeks for what felt like the millionth time in the last month.
“What happened?” You asked, confused at his behavior the last two times you’d seen him.
“You told your sister sleeping with me was a bad idea, and I know I wasn’t supposed to hear it, but I took it as you didn’t want to be with me, and I freaked out. I thought we would be together after Halloween. Like seriously together, and then when you said that, I thought maybe I had been misreading everything since I met you. And then I realized what a dumbass I am, because the sad look on your face when I left on Thanksgiving told me that you actually did care about me. And then I didn’t know what to say to you, so I didn’t say anything. But what I should’ve said was ‘I’ve been in love with you since Easter, and I want to be your holidate for the rest of my life, if you’ll let me.’” He finished by throwing his hands up in the air.
You smiled, eyes glistening. “Remember when I was the one who rambled when I was nervous?” You asked, giggling.
He threw his head back and let out a loud laugh.
“I do remember that, yes.”
“Would it help if I said I came here to tell you that I fell in love with you a long time ago? And that I’m an idiot for ignoring it for so long? And that I love you so much that these last few weeks have been absolute hell for me?”
He grinned, cupping your cheeks. “Yes, that does help a little bit.”
“Are you sure?” You asked, leaning into his hold. “I could grovel more if you need me to. I came ready for anything.”
“I’m sure, sweetheart.” He softly pressed his lips against yours, and you physically felt all of the pain of the last few weeks leave your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.
When you finally broke away, you were breathless and on cloud nine. You nodded towards the tree he had been looking at.
“I like this one. Wanna get it?” You asked.
He chuckled and nodded. “What Miss Daisy wants, Miss Daisy gets.”
You giggled, pulling him into another kiss.
If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be here, kissing Frank Castle in the middle of a Christmas tree lot, you would laugh at yourself. Frank wasn’t what you were expecting, but you had learned over the last year that the best things in life usually come when you least expect them to, and that when you have something good, you shouldn’t let go of it. You weren’t planning on letting Frank go anytime soon, or ever if you could help it, and the way Frank refused to drop your hand, even when you tried to get into your own car to drive to his house, told you he wouldn’t be letting go of you either.
End Note: I really hope you enjoyed this! If you want to see this in a series with other Marvel characters, let me know! Also, can we please figure out how to get Jon into a romcom. I need that in my life IMMEDIATELY.
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#frank castle#frank castle x reader#frank castle x you#frank castle fluff#frank castle smut#frank castle oneshot#frank castle imagine#the punisher#the punisher x reader#the punisher x you#the punisher x y/n#frank castle x y/n#frank castle fanfiction#marvel#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagine#marvel smut#the punisher smut#smut#frank castle au#holidate#marvel christmas#jon bernthal#amhrosina
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king of my heart - pt 5
i’ll be there if you’re the toast of the town, babe
or if you strike out and you’re crawling home
pairing: reader x ben chilwell
summary: now officially dating, you can’t help but miss your boyfriend while he’s away on international duty
warnings: none for this chapter :)
word count: 3.1k
a/n: thank you all for your lovely responses to this fic! just as a bit of an fyi, i’m not exactly following the game schedule for the euro qualifiers bc i just cba honestly haha <3
see my masterlist for previous chapters
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charlottewright I spy a certain someone 😉❄️
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Dating Ben Chilwell turns out to be even better than you imagined.
You’re happier than you’ve ever been when you’re with him, whether it’s a Monday evening cuddling on his sofa watching Succession or a Saturday at Stamford Bridge watching him dominate on the pitch.
The only drawback is that it’s difficult for you to squeeze in this time together between his intense training schedule and you entering a busy time of year at work.
You despise it when he has an away game and you’re forced to spend the night apart, as you’ve grown accustomed to sleeping next to him. Even when he’s exhausted from training or you have to work late, you usually end up making your way to the other’s place and crashing there.
So when the season ends and Ben has to leave for international break, you can’t help but dread the separation.
You’re incredibly happy for him, knowing how much it means to be called up for the national team once again, but you hate the fact that he’s going to be gone for weeks.
“I wish you could come with me,” Ben whines as you lay in bed together.
He has to leave soon to go to the England training camp, where he’ll be for the next week before flying to Italy and then Malta for the qualifiers. In total, it will only be two weeks, but as you’ve hardly gone 24 hours apart since you began officially dating a month ago, it’s going to feel like a century.
“I know, babe,” you murmur into his bare chest, his arms holding you closely. “I’m really sorry I can’t make it to either match. Work has been so crazy and it will be tough to leave mid-week.”
“Don’t apologize, love, your job is just important as mine.”
“I think most of the country would disagree with you there,” you chuckle, pressing a kiss to his jaw.
He smiles, though it seems a bit forced, and you can feel the tension in his body.
“Are you nervous?” you ask gently, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him.
“A bit,” he admits. “I don’t know if I’ll even be starting, but I really want to be at my best for this. The Euros could be my chance to really make an impact for this team, you know?”
He’s confided in you that missing the World Cup last year due to injury took a big toll on his mental health, and that it still stings a bit to this day. Obviously, the Euros are his next big opportunity to show what he’s capable of, and you know he will.
“You’re going to do great, Ben,” you say sincerely. “I can’t wait to watch you play, even if it has to be on TV. And Southgate would be a fool not to start you, by the way.”
Ben smiles and leans in to kiss you softly, his lips lingering on yours.
“Thank you, baby,” he says, pulling you closer and briefly glancing at the watch on his wrist. “Fuck, I have to leave soon.”
“I know, and I have to go to work,” you groan, kissing his collarbone. “Five more minutes?”
Ben nods and kisses your forehead. “Five more minutes.”
-
Ben ❤️ - 11:32 PM
I miss you so much 😔
You - 11:33PM
I miss you too 🥺 How’s training going?
Ben ❤️ - 11:33PM
It’s good to be here but I’m exhausted and the gaffer wants us up at 6 tomorrow
You - 11:34PM
You should get some rest then babe, we can talk tomorrow
Ben ❤️ - 11:34PM
Can we facetime for 10 mins and then I’ll sleep?? Promise
You - 11:34PM
Ok, calling now ❤️
-
The day of England’s match against Italy rolls around, and you feel a pang in your stomach from the moment you wake up.
You so badly wish you could be there to support your boyfriend, but you have to work tomorrow and you really can’t justify flying to Naples and back for one evening.
You text Ben throughout the morning, sending him words of encouragement.
You - 11:21AM
Good luck today babe!!
Ben ❤️ - 11:24AM
Thanks baby ❤️ I’m on the starting lineup!
You - 11:30AM
Omg!! Can’t wait to watch 😘
Around lunch time, as you’re sitting at your desk reading emails and feeling just a bit sorry for yourself, you get a call from Charlotte.
“Y/N!” she exclaims. “I just got a call from Declan’s girlfriend Lauren and she said a few of them chartered a jet to fly to Naples to surprise the boys. There’s room for both of us if we want to go. Please tell me you can leave work!”
You’ve met Declan and his girlfriend a few times now, at various gatherings at Mason’s place. She’s a super nice person and it’s incredibly thoughtful that she would invite you and Charlotte, both of you very new to the Premier League WAG crowd.
Charlotte and Mason, while keeping things fairly casual, have pretty much been exclusive for nearly as long as you and Ben, though they see each other much less due to Charlotte being away for work so often.
“I’m not sure,” you sigh. “I would have to ask my boss for the rest of today and tomorrow off, and I don’t want to seem flighty. No pun intended.”
“Babes, you never leave work early,” Charlotte says. “And how often do you get to take a private jet to surprise your boyfriend in Italy?”
She does have a point there. This would be an amazing opportunity, and more importantly, it would allow you to support Ben and see him a week earlier than planned. That’s hard to resist.
“Okay, I’ll ask. When do we have to be at the airport?”
“An hour and a half, but I’m already packing for you!”
You smile and roll your eyes affectionately as you hang up and go to your boss’ office. You’re nervous to ask, but she immediately tells you that you’re one of her best employees and that you’ve been working your ass off since you started, so you deserve this.
You thank her profusely before packing up your stuff and rushing to meet Charlotte at the airport.
“Hey, Charlotte, Y/N!” Lauren says, greeting you both with a smile as you and Charlotte meet up with the others on the tarmac. “I’m so happy you could make it!”
“Thanks so much for inviting us!” you say, fiddling with the strap of your purse.
You suddenly feel a bit nervous - these women, a couple of whom you’ve never met before, are all so beautiful and glamorous. You, however, just came from work and are wearing minimal makeup, your hair in loose waves and a simple light blue dress on.
“It’s great to meet you,” one of the girls says. “I never thought we’d see Ben settle down, but according to Jack he’s totally whipped.”
You can’t help but blush at this comment - and the fact that Ben is so obviously into you that even his friends’ girlfriends know about it.
“You must be Sasha,” you deduce, realizing she’s Jack Grealish’s girlfriend. Jack being one of Ben’s oldest mates, you’ve met him a couple times, and you recall him mentioning her. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
Sasha smiles at you before turning to Lauren. “We’d better go if we want to make it for kick-off.”
The flight ends up being a lot of fun. The girls pop a bottle of champagne and you all get to know each other better, Lauren telling you and Charlotte stories about Mason and Declan as kids and you and Charlotte answering questions about your jobs.
“I think Dec mentioned you’ve always been a big Chelsea fan?” Lauren asks after showing you some photos of their adorable baby boy. “It must’ve been a bit surreal when one of the lads started chatting you up.”
You laugh and take a sip of your drink. “Yeah, at first it was definitely a bit mental. But it felt so natural with Ben from the start, honestly. It was like I’d known him forever.”
All the girls erupt in a chorus of “awww”s, except Charlotte, who gives you a knowing smile.
As Lauren, Sasha, and the others discuss how they’re going to surprise the boys after the match, you lean over and whisper to Charlotte.
“You know, I never pictured us as football WAGs, but this is really fun,” you admit.
“Speak for yourself, Victoria Beckham was my role model growing up,” Charlotte jokes. “By the way, everything they’re saying is true. Chilly is obsessed with you.”
“I don’t know,” you blush. “Do you think it’s too much surprising him like this? We’ve only been official for a month.”
“You’re way more committed than me and Mason, and I’m doing it too,” Charlotte shrugs. “Don’t overthink it, Y/N. He’s gonna flip when he sees you, I promise.”
You decide to take her advice and try to relax and enjoy yourself, sipping champagne and continuing to chat with the other girls.
By the time you land, it’s getting close to game time, so you all decide you’ll surprise the guys after the match is over. Lauren leads the way to the box you’re in and you’re all seated with drinks and snacks just in time for the boys to make their way onto the pitch.
Your heart races when you see Ben in person for the first time in a week, albeit from very far away. He looks so good in his England kit, standing among some of the best players in the world and ready to represent his country. You couldn’t be prouder.
While your spirits are high at the beginning of the match, things quickly begin to go downhill as play progresses.
Italy scores twice in the first half, one of which due to what you’ll admit was a poor defense from Ben. At halftime, it’s still 2-0, and you can see the disheartened looks on the team’s faces when they walk out to play the second half.
You wince as Mason gets tackled and falls over in pain, and you squeeze Charlotte’s hand when you see the obvious worry on her face. Thankfully, he’s able to get up and continue playing, but the ref fails to give out a yellow card to the Italian player.
You can see the frustration on Ben’s face at this clear oversight, and the match goes on with England continuing to struggle.
With about twenty minutes to go, both teams decide to make some substitutions, and your heart clenches when you see Ben’s number flash on the screen. He looks completely defeated as he jogs off the pitch.
Harry Kane manages to score a goal with an assist from Declan in the last few minutes, but it’s clear that it won’t be enough as the clock runs out and Italy take the win.
It’s a unanimous decision among the girls to go back to the hotel and wait for the boys there rather than try to find them in the tunnels. You obviously have much less experience with this than they do, but even you know that it’s probably best to give them some time to cool off.
Despite the fact that you know it’s for the best, all you want to do is find Ben and hug him tightly, knowing he’ll be in need of some comfort. You restrain yourself from texting him, not wanting to blow the surprise for everyone else.
You wait outside the hotel for the team bus to pull up, knowing it will take a little bit for them to shower, do any post-match press and drive over.
Eventually, the bus pulls up, and the team begins to exit. Although they’re all obviously upset with the result, you see some of them perk up as they spot their partners there to greet them.
Mason is among the first, and he runs over to kiss Charlotte with a smile on his face.
As the others reunite, you can’t help but feel a little nervous again - you know Ben will be feeling shitty and he may even want to be alone. And here you are in Italy, with no escape until your flight tomorrow.
You don’t have to worry for long, thankfully. As soon as Ben steps off the bus and locks eyes with you, his clenched jaw and furrowed brow disappear and he jogs over to you immediately.
Without a thought, you leap into his arms, and Ben hugs you tighter than he ever has before, burying his face in your shoulder and inhaling your scent.
“What are you doing here?” he mumbles into your shoulder. “I mean, how did you-“
“Lauren decided to charter a plane so we could catch the match, and I guess Char and I are inner circle WAGs now,” you murmur, and it has the desired effect of making him laugh softly. “How are you feeling, babe?”
You pull back to look him in the eyes, cupping his face with both hands. His arms remain coiled around your waist, refusing to let go, and he drops his forehead to yours.
“I played like shit,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry you flew out to see that.”
“You weren’t shit,” you tell him gently. “You had a bad day, and so did the rest of the team. It happens. Nobody is perfect all the time.”
“At this level, I should be perfect,” he says. “I should’ve been better. He subbed me off for a reason.”
You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, unable to take the look of complete self-loathing on his face for a moment longer.
“Ben, honey, it’s alright,” you say softly. “You won the last match, you’ll win the next one. You’ll get another chance.”
Ben sighs and pulls you back into his embrace, squeezing you just as tightly as before. You begin to hear the flashing of cameras, and you turn to see that a small crowd of paparazzi have gathered. You can only imagine how much these shots of half the England team snogging their girlfriends would be worth.
Although you and Ben have teased your relationship a bit on social media, and you’ve gone out in public a few times, you have yet to announce anything official.
You know that remaining out here will ensure that your face is in the tabloids tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to care right now.
“Sorry, babe, do you wanna go inside?” Ben asks, dropping his hands from your sides reluctantly.
You shake your head and pull him back into your arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“No, screw them,” you murmur. “I wanna hug my boyfriend.”
Ben just holds you closer and rocks you back and forth slightly in his arms, and you hear him mumble a quiet “thank you” into your hair.
-
Sure enough, within a few hours the photos are all over Twitter, but by that point you’re naked in the luxurious hotel bed, limbs tangled with Ben’s.
All of the players and their partners retreated to their respective rooms not long after meeting up outside. It was clear that everyone was in need of some rest and recuperation prior to their next match in Malta in a few days.
You and Ben spent a little bit just laying in bed, silently holding each other and exchanging soft kisses. Eventually, he began to speak, and you talked through the loss today and how he felt about being subbed off.
Not for the first time, you consider yourself lucky that of all the footballers you could’ve fallen for, you chose one who regularly goes to therapy and is surprisingly well-adjusted for a male professional athlete in his 20s.
After talking for a while, you had slow, emotional sex, both of you craving each other after your week apart.
Now, you’re just enjoying each other’s company and laughing as you scroll through the headlines on social media.
“This is a good one,” Ben chuckles, the stress on his face from earlier now completely vanishing. “‘Beautiful mystery woman consoles distraught England and Chelsea left-back Ben Chilwell after devastating loss to Italy.’”
“God, they’re dramatic,” you roll your eyes.
“Not wrong, though,” Ben smiles, kissing your forehead. “Thank you so much for being here. Losing sucks, but it’s not nearly as bad with you.”
“Of course, I’m glad I came.”
You both set down your phones and lean in for a kiss, Ben pulling all of your body weight on top of him.
“You sure you’re okay with us going public?” he asks, running a hand through your hair as the other one holds your waist. “People can be pricks online.”
Despite you remaining unnamed in the articles, some fans have already figured out your identity. Ben follows you and likes everything you post, so it really wasn’t that hard to determine. Since the photos dropped, you’ve been steadily gaining Instagram followers, and you know things are going to change for you a bit.
“I can handle it,” you tell him, kissing him lightly. “I’m so happy with you, I don’t wanna hide that.”
“Alright, but please tell me if it gets to be too much. I know you can handle it, but I don’t want you to have to. Okay?”
“Okay,” you agree, brushing your nose against his, your eyes fluttering shut. “Now, can we order room service? I’m starving and I don’t wanna leave this bed.”
Ben smiles and nods, reaching over to grab the phone. “Yeah, get whatever you want, love.”
You spend the rest of the night cuddling in bed, you eating copious amounts of pasta while Ben sticks to salad, and fall asleep watching a movie together.
You’re both still disappointed from the match and dreading you having to fly back to London tomorrow, but it’s a perfect night nonetheless.
Really, any night you’re together feels perfect to you, as cheesy as that is, and it’s becoming pretty clear to you why.
You’re in love with him, and it might be too soon to say, but you think he just might be in love with you too.
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benchilwell
📍Ta Qali National Stadium, Malta
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benchilwell That’s more like it ❤️🏴 Big win today! @england
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yourusername 🦁❤️
chelsfan21 omg chilly’s gf confirmed???
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next chapter 💙
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Sunshine and their kid throw Peter the most elaborate Father’s Day breakfast known to mankind and he can’t finish it all in one sitting but refuses to not finish it so he takes French toast and hash brown leftovers to work for a week
🥹🥹🥹
They do!!!
Peter is awoken by a pair of soft lips pressing against his cheek and tiny hands squeezing his shoulders.
"Daddy! Wake up!" Ben and Sophia are giggling as they shake him awake.
"Wake up Dad, we got a surprise for you," His favorite voice says. When he opens his eyes, he sees his whole family grinning.
"Happy Father's Day!" His five and three year old all but shout.
"I get to be woken up by my two favorite munchkins? Best day ever!" Sophia and Ben shriek as Peter grabs them, trying to tickle him.
"No Daddy!" Ben says in between giggles.
That's when Peter looks to the side to see Sunshine bringing a tray of food. Challah french toast, hash browns, fruit, orange juice, the whole shabang.
"Did you two help Mama make this?" Peter asked before pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads.
"They did! Sophia helped stir the batter for the french toast and Ben poured the orange juice all by himself!" Sunshine puts the tray on Peter's lap before kissing the two kids, who are so proud of themselves.
And yes, he would eat breakfast for lunch every day and every time he opens his lunchbox, he gets the biggest smile on his face because he's reminded of his family.
#my writing#peter parker fluff#Peter Parker imagine#peter and sunshine#peter parker oneshot#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x reader
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Hey I’m Toasted Watching Libertys Kids. Here are my comments
Boston Tea Party
First I’m so happy that every episode is available on YouTube! That makes things so much easier.
The theme song has NO RIGHT to hit this hard. Why isn’t this our national anthem? 🥹
For real though, the premise of this show overall has potential for an Outlander quality show for us big kids.
The opening montage? Cinema.
Walter Cronkite as Ben Franklin is A+ casting because his name ends in kite.
I love how Sarah’s so calm even though she’s trapped in a stormy ship. Maybe it’s because she’s hyper focused when she’s writing. I was on a cruise once and panicked when the ship got to swayey for me.
I love how Sarah adores her father. Leaving London for a new land unsupervised as a teenage girl sounds wild.
Moses is done with James already
Moses doesn’t end up having kids because he basically already had kids and said that’s enough for me.
“It’s addressed to Moses! You look like James!”😆 He’s so cute.
THAT TRANSITION
Omg it’s the beer guy. Beer overthrew tea.
It’s pretty hardcore that they have a picture of the redcoats murdering them hanging on the tavern wall.
Imagine walking out to the deck of a ship to see strange and unfamiliar land. Also where is the captain??? Why is she the only person on the ship when they break in to it?
The sons of liberty look like they’re going to coachella.
“Mom? How did you and dad meet?” “I hit him with a pillow stuffed with books and insulted his grammar.”
When she cute but conservative af
“You’re Sarah Phillips!?”
“Dr. Franklin sent YOU?”
Why didn’t Moses go below deck first?
Bro straight up tore her locket off on purpose. He always wanted to do that to a woman.
Moses calling them big ugly hogs 😂😂
If James and Henri stink that bad, poor Sarah must have been suffocating under that blanket.
Omg Sarah we don’t just ask people if they’re slaves.
Ok real talk though, how many of you have been to an African American history museum with a slave ship hallway? Because that was horrific.
Phylis Wheatley should have written the Declaration, not Jefferson.
Sarah dropping the mic more than Hamilton tbh
Sarahs doing pretty well for a rich girl sleeping in a barn for the first time
Bro that is not sanity, throw that fish away
Look at all the wigs!
OMG you guys the tea party is totes Bens fault. Ben looks so done with them.
The Intolerable Acts
Dear mom, this is not the airbnb that I wanted
“English Henri!” “I’m counting the English!”
WIGS! WIGS!?
Ben literally said suck my dick at Parliament.
James not noticing the redcoats in the barn for five minutes
The redcoats act like Karens.
Sarah don’t have time for your shit James
That captain is such a piece of shit. Henris backstory is lowkey fucked up.
I’d like to have more of a backstory on James’ parents.
*heavenly music*
He just put Sarah on the spot like that and she outwitted him beautifully.
When a man gives you his outerwear, he’s at your service forever.
Dear mom I’m finally in the right airbnb
Bro just straight up gave up his ring so she could have a locket omg 🥺
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Bluebell | Chapter 11
Previous chapter | Next chapter
Masterlist
"Can I come in?" Lindsey says after knocking on my office's door.
"Yes, of course. Did the French couple already leave?"
"Yep. They were super happy, said that they will give us five stars."
"Great. What are you hiding there?"
"Just... A bottle of champagne!" she says, putting it on the table, a big grin on her face.
"What are we celebrating?"
"That this summer has been one of the best this business has ever seen" she says, struggling to open it.
"It has been a really good summer, yes." At least when it comes to Daisy's, because on my personal life...
The days after the reopening were the worst, and if it hadn't been because of my mum, Lindsey and Mrs. Smart, I would probably still be lying on my bed, feeling sorry for myself like happened when I found out about my ex cheating on me.
Mason decided to completely avoid me, which means that I haven't seen him in almost three months. Ben and Declan obviously supported him, he is their best friend. And even though we've shared some texts to check how we were doing, I haven't seen them either.
Victoria went completely crazy, telling people horrible things about me and Rúben, but especially about me. Things that weren't true, of course. Most people didn't believe her, but I've noticed how some women give me weird looks. She also tried to sabotage Daisy's, writing bad reviews online, but people didn't seem to care. One Italian woman even said to me: "two men at the same time? Good for you."
And Rúben... When I told him I had been seeing Mason while also being with him, he didn't seem to care. Now that everyone knew about us, he wanted us to properly date, to make it official. But I didn't, I wasn't ready for it. At first he didn't mind, he understood my reasons. Then we started to see each other less and less because I was either busy or too tired, and now it's been a month since the last time we were together.
"Stop thinking about men" Lindsey says, finally opening the bottle. "They are not worth it."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Let's make a toast. To being single and not wanting to mingle. To loving ourselves. Because we, come first."
"To us" I say, raising my glass.
"To us" Lindsey repeats.
"I'm going to miss you, you know?"
"It'll be just six months. Then once I've finally finished my studies, I'll come back here to make sure you don't do anything stupid. Like opening your legs for those two again."
"Lindsey!" I laugh. "But don't worry. It won't happen."
"Meow!"
"Dixie doesn't seem to agree."
"He is going to be the only man in my life for a long time. I promise" I say, petting his head and making him purr.
"Cheers to that" Lindsey says, refilling my glass.
"Are you planning on getting me drunk on your last day here?"
"Just slightly tipsy. Enough to make you sing Taylor Swift."
"That will never happen. Like ever."
"You almost quoted one of her songs, it's working!"
"Love you, Lindsey" I say, sticking out my tongue.
"Love you too, boss."
━━━━━━❃━━━━━━
"But do I really have to go? What if a new guest comes and there is no one here to welcome them?"
"No one is coming, everyone will be at the main square singing carols" Lindsey says.
"But..."
"Don't" my mum says. "I came here to spend Christmas with my daughter and enjoy all the traditions Bluebell has, and the carols singing at the square is one of the main ones. So put on your coat, and let's go."
"Meow!" Dixie says.
"Fine, ok, I'm going. You all are clearly against me. You included" I say, pointing at Dixie. He just meows again, curling into a ball on the sofa.
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"I'm gonna miss him when he leaves" Mrs. Smart says with a big sigh while looking at Rúben. He's at the stage they've set for the town's choir, getting everything ready to start the singing. And, of course, he looks like he just came from a fashion magazine, looking stupidly handsome with his beanie, his scarf, his coat...
"Is it true that he won't be running for the re-election, then?" my mum asks. That had been the latest rumour in town, that Rúben wanted a change, and his days as Mayor were over.
"In this town, rumours usually become true" Mrs. Smart says.
"And what is he going to do?"
"I guess he'll go back to being a lawyer. Maybe move to the city" she shrugs.
"Are you guys in the mood for some hot chocolate" I say. I need to think about anything that isn't Rúben leaving.
"Oh, I would love that" my mum says.
"Make it three" Mrs. Smart replies. "Lindsey?"
"I'm in" she says. "Do you want company?"
"I'll be fine, don't worry."
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"Merry Christmas, Miss Daisy."
"Bloody hell, Declan!"
"I thought you would be used to it by now" he laughs.
"I've lost practice."
"Yeah... I've missed scaring you."
"You are so thoughtful" I say with a fake smile, picking the tray with our hot chocolates.
"Dec, have you seen... Oh, hi. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Mason” I say. What is it with men wearing beanies today? Why do they all look so damn good?
"I'm gonna go get our chocolates" Declan says, leaving us alone.
"How are you?"
"Good, good" Mason says. "I've heard Daisy's is doing really well."
"It is, yes."
"Great. I think I saw your mum with the Smarts?"
"Yep. We are spending Christmas with them."
"Good luck" Mason chuckles. "They love Christmas."
"Oh, I know, Lindsey warned me. What about you?"
"The whole family is back, so I don't have time to get bored."
"The babies too?" I ask. Just before I arrived in town, Mason's parent's had traveled to the United States to be with his sister, who had given birth to twins a few months before their due date.
"Yes, they also came."
"Oh, that's amazing, Mason! I'm so glad they were able to travel."
"Yeah, I'm very happy" he says with that smile of his that shows his dimple, making me smile as well. "Anyway, I gotta go help Dec. We are getting hot chocolates for both our families."
"Yeah, sure. I should also probably take this to the girls."
"It was nice seeing you again."
"You too, Mase."
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"What took you so long?" Lindsey says when I make it back.
"The queue" I shrug.
"Could I please have your attention?" Rúben says from the stage. "Thank you. Thank you all for coming to our traditional Christmas carols singing. I can see that some of you are already enjoying that hot chocolate, so don't be shy, and maybe have another cup. Remember that it is for a good cause."
"I wonder if he'll have one too" I say under my breath, Lindsey being the only one who hears me. "Keeping that body in shape and drinking chocolate..."
"I myself will be having one" he says as if hearing me, making Lindsey laugh next to me. "Hope you enjoy this year's selection of songs, the choir has been rehearsing for a long time. And remember that you can and should sing as well" he says with a charming smile. "Thank you very much for coming, and Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas" everyone repeats.
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"Should we get something to eat?" Mrs. Smart says.
"Oh, please. That chocolate made me hungrier than I was" my mum says.
"You go ahead, I'll take this to the bin" I say, taking all the cups from them.
"Merry Christmas."
"Fuck!" I say, the lid of the bin falling on my finger.
"I'm so sorry, are you ok?" Rúben says, quickly taking my hand on his.
"I think so, yes" I say, my finger throbbing.
"We should have someone check it."
"It's fine, it's..." I say, trying not to cry.
"C'mon, we have some paramedics at the back on the square just in case something happens."
"Like getting your finger crushed by the bin's lid because you got scared?" I laugh. Though my laugh sounded more like a whimper.
"Exactly that" he says, putting one arm around my shoulders while still holding my hand.
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"I'm afraid you're gonna need an x-ray" the paramedic says.
"What? Really?"
"It is too swollen right now, but you may have broken it. What happened?"
"It was an accident, it doesn't matter" Rúben says. "Can you give her something for the pain?"
"Yes, of course. But you should go home and rest. Go to the hospital tomorrow."
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"You didn't have to walk me home, you know?"
"And leave you alone while being in pain and also drugged? No way" Ruben says, his arm back to being around my shoulders.
"My mum could have done it. Or Lindsey."
"And ruin all the fun they were having?"
"They probably are wondering where I am."
"You can text them when we make it back to Daisy's, don’t worry."
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"How are you feeling?"
"Sleepy. The painkillers are starting to kick in."
"Then it's time to go to bed" Rúben says, picking me up from the sofa where we were watching tv. I had forgotten how easily he could carry me around.
“Meow!” Dixie complains.
“What?” Rúben tells him.
“I think he is pissed because you woke him up when you moved. Maybe also because I told him he would be the only man in my life, yet here we are.”
“Do you think he’ll try to attack me?” he says, still holding me in his arms.
“He might… But don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
“With your broken finger?”
“Meh, meh, meh.”
“C´mon, let’s get you to bed” he laughs as he starts walking, Dixie following us.
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"Do you need anything else?" Rúben asks once I've changed and already in bed.
"Can you stay until I fall sleep? You broke my finger, I think I deserve it" I say, pouting.
"Ok, fine" he says, trying not to smile. Pouting always worked with him.
"Here" I say, opening the bed and asking him to lay next to me.
"Spooning?"
"Yep."
"What if your mum comes in and sees us?" he says as he gets in.
"Oh well" I say as I try to shrug, his arm already around me. It had been weeks since the last time we were together like this, but it felt like it had been just a few hours. "This feels nice" I say, my eyes starting to close.
"It does" he says before kissing my neck, that feeling and those two words being the last thing I remember before I fall sleep.
#mason mount#ruben dias#mason mount fanfic#ruben dias fanfic#mason mount x reader#ruben dias x reader#mason mount imagine#ruben dias imagine#football fanfic#football imagine
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Changes: Frankie Morales x F!reader
A/N: so this was written for @littleferal‘s Writer’s Iron Chef #8. The prompt was accidentally falling asleep together. I feel like this might be the start of an interesting AU. I may have to do something else with these two. Reader has had to move back in with her parents after some unspecified setback. Reader is younger than Benny but otherwise not described.
Warnings: A little angst. Small town. Overbearing parents. Alcohol consumption. Food mentions. Oh no, we’re snuggling for warmth. One very soft kiss. Brief mention of spiders.
Things change, but some things stay exactly the same. Coming home was like hitching a ride on a time machine, the shit-splat town you grew up in much the same as when you ran from it. The shitty little carnival still comes through town at the beginning of summer like clockwork, the train still rolls through what passes as a downtown several times a night. The dog food factory still stinks. The house is much the same as you remember it, only older, your ma and pa older. We won't charge you room and board, says your pa, but we do expect you to help out with groceries and such. And if you are going to live in this house, we expect you to follow certain rules. Yes, sir, you say, falling into the old patterns.
They've set you up in your old room, still painted an eye-watering purple that 13 year old you had loved.
I talked to Jerry down to the store. He'll hire you on.
Yes sir.
It's good pay. You'll have to work for it though.
Yes sir.
You'll be just fine, says Ma, you'll get back on your feet soon enough.
Things change, but some things stay exactly the same. The Millers still live next door, their back field and yours butting up, separated by a fringe of scraggly honeysuckles. Benny practically knocks you over, sweeping you up into a bear hug.
"Hey, Squirt! I missed you! How've you been?"
"Honestly, I've been better." Will's greeting is more subdued but just as warm, pulls you into his arms and squeezes you tight.
"You'll be okay." And somehow when Will says it you believe it.
"Hey Squirt!"
"Arrrghh. I am a whole five minutes younger than you Benjamin Miller!" Benny throws up his hands in mock surrender.
"We're gonna have a fire tomorrow," he says, "Pope and Fish are gonna be there. You should come."
Things change, but some things stay exactly the same. Will is telling embarrassing Benny stories, like the time he caught the curtains on fire using a lighter and hairspray to kill a spider that Will planted in his room. You've heard this story a million times but the man sitting next to you hasn't. The boys call him Fish but his name is Francisco. I'm Frankie, only my mom calls me Francisco. He has a brilliant smile that turns his eyes into crinkled crescents. Curls peek out form under his ball cap, you find yourself smiling at him, wanting to be near him.
Will's got a pie iron and is using it to make the campfire equivalent of Cinnabon rolls. Cinnamon raisin bread stuffed with marshmallows and toasted over the coals. You've had two of those and several beers and now the fire is low and red and the boys are trading stories. It's getting chilly and the five of you move gradually closer to the fire. Closer to each other. Which is how you end up nestled against Frankie. He curls an arm around you like its the most natural thing in the world.
"You ok?"
"yeah. I'm just cold."
"Hey Ben, can you get the extra blanket out of my truck? It's unlocked."
"Sure, Fish."
The night blurs and the fire grows dimmer. You're not sure how, but you end up draped across Frankie's lap. Your head pillowed on his thigh. Wrapped up in a blanket that smells a little like motor oil and a little like a basement. The boys tell their stories and laugh. At some point the conversation gets softer, regrets and lives lost, but all the while Frankie smooths his hand over the curve of your shoulder up and down, a mindless, soothing motion.
"Hey." Someone is shaking you, "Hey."
"mmmnnn?"
"My leg's asleep."
“Oh Shit! Sorry." You sit up. The fire is nothing but dim winking embers. Pope and the Miller boys are nowhere to be seen. The sky above is awash in stars, like sugar spilled across black velvet. Frankie stands and does a little hopping dance, trying to get blood-flow back into his leg and you laugh.
"Sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry for." Frankie offers his hand and pulls you up. "Can I walk you home?"
"It's just across the field." His hand is warm around yours.
"I know."
You and Frankie stand in the ugly yellow porch light. Moths tick against the hot bulb. All the windows are dark. You've still got his blanket wrapped around yourself like a robe.
"I'd like to see you again," he says.
"You will. I'm not going anywhere. Not for a while anyway." He smiles, lovely and tired, and squeezes your hand, still folded in his. You lean in and kiss his stubbled cheek, right over his dimple.
"Thank you."
"For what?" He asks, his cheeks tinged red, and earlobes rapidly following suit.
"Keeping me warm."
"Any time, princesa."
#frankie x f!reader#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales#benny miller#will miller#santiago garcia#triple frontier au
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🥂{💋}
It's minutes after some hour she can't really read on her watch because she's lost her glasses....
Again.
And when he saunters into his demesne something like the spirit of Morrison possessing a sleek sort of panther, all swagger that is only really exhaustion attempting to outrun itself ~he learned long ago how to fake it to the very last~ Beth is really glad he doesn't have... company.
Instead of boots ten miles too high and a ransom of neon spandex, in place of black glossy vinyl that would be forced to make mountains out of molehills only with the right corsetry, she stands in oversized fuzzy flannel pyjama bottoms and a faded Red Hot Chili Peppers tee-shirt {Stadium Arcadium tour, sixteen years in the past}.
She offers him up a little plate, on it toast that is still just that, melted butter and honey dripping down the sides. She thinks it's funny.
"Happy New Year."
{ 🎁 You know you want: Music!Ben }
His swagger could be an anthem in faking it till making it or just how drunk he is. He smells like a bar. Tobacco, cedar wood, the bite of something medicinal. Every lacquered plaster wall in his moon desert pad rings with the sound of another all-new year, or that could be his ear. Would be gnarly if that was the ear.
Ben Solo haunts his own apartment, a slow-moving, glitzed-out ghost.
After stumbling into some chalky owl's burrow to drink from a tap, he stumbles into the sight of Beth Riley standing in his living room like a single mast of light, one leg tucked meekly behind the other. Wide-eyed in her flannels and band shirt, with a china doll smile and a china doll's way of presenting a plate, three-quarters turned.
Ben leans the square of an allover sequin embellished viscose shoulder into a surface he knows isn't solid at all. He moves his palm up and down the wall, closes his eyes. Shadows hide the marbles of broken blood vessels.
"Happy New Year."
Could be January first or January third. Special k was a time-bender that way. New year, new moment. He couldn't remember five hours ago—success. But he could still remember the shrill on I-15. The smell, not unlike toast at first.
It is funny.
The little plate is funny. Beth. Funny. Ben doesn't remember inviting her over, leaving her here, but he must have. He must have moved stupid quick and given her his door pin, or she wouldn't be here, in her little PJs, offering him a slab of honey butter toast on a doll-sized stoneware plate in her little hands.
He approaches gradually. There's music in his hesitance, too, though the shine is all shirt, not him. He's death in designer duds, looking for blood.
"Why are you so small?" He considers Beth with a smile in his eyes that has made other women threaten violence. He considers the toast. "Maybe I'm just too much. Just too big."
But he couldn't possibly have said that—it's not something he'd ever say.
Ben bites a crust off the treat; warm honey runs down his lip. He swallows and wipes at it with his hand but misses the bead in the corner of his mouth. Not like he doesn't know it's there.
Till the very last breath could be a toast.
He laughs at the shirt.
"Take that off," he slurs, bends to do away with it, and clumsily yanks it up Beth's stomach, revealing her sleek obliques and narrow belly button, the silver knobs of each piercing. Ben does smile when he spots those. (* He doesn't know if he wants to suck on them or if the desire is a memory. His mind is a tunnel, too.*)
As he and Beth struggle over the hem, the collar pulls a little, the faded iron-on tents and warps in their grappling. Beth's heels lift off the floor. She drops the plate, and it bounces on the space-grey carpeting and rolls and clatters on its face in the dark, but she won't let go of his hand.
They both know Ben could rip off the shirt as easily as he could toss Beth across the room. Still, even in their scuffle, a game is at play. If she won't let him, he won't do it.
Somewhere in that blue night scuffle, their mouths meet with the taste of honey and powdered metal.
@brooklynislandgirl
#brooklynislandgirl#m. au | music!verse ben: nowhere man#seasons greasons#queue de la k#tw: drug mention
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9 People you want to get to Know Better
Tagged by my new mutual @deanwax! Hi buddy!! :D
And just tagged by @surroundedbypearls as well :)
1. 3 ships: I'm not really a shipper, but there are 3 relationships that I really adore:
Lesley Knope & Ben Wyatt (Parks & Rec)
Amy Santiago & Jake Peralta (Brooklyn 99)
Eleanor Shellstrop & Chidi Anagoye (The Good Place)
I just...I'm a bit of a softy for healthy relationships with good communication, okay?
2. First ever ship: I honestly can't remember. I think it was probably Quasimodo and Esmeralda from Hunchback of Notre Dame when I was a kid!!
3. Last song: Wrong Side of Heaven by Five Finger Death Punch
4. Last movie: Last Night in Soho on Netflix. It was fun and trippy and Anya Joy-Taylor was amazing! I wasn't expecting ghosts, but it has ghosts in it as well.
5. Currently reading: Jimmy the King by Gus Garcia-Roberts. I picked it up as research for dirty cops in Memento Mori because I was worried that my own fictional cops would be too unbelievable. But fml, this guys makes Line of Duty look tame! No wonder LISK was active for so long. It's a hefty read, but really well researched.
6. Currently watching: Just finished the latest season of WWDITS and making a start on Star Trek: Lower Decks. I want a moopsy already.
7. Currently consuming: Just finished off a bowl of homemade lentil and chili soup, with toast and butter. Yum.
8. Currently craving: Cheesy potato skins.
Passing the tag onto @akiwitch @scribe-of-stories @scifimagpie @writingf3 @queen-tashie @inflarescent and anyone who wants to do this. Please tag me so I don't miss this chance to get to know you guys a little bit better :D
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Welcome to the Corkboard ! My name is Danny, you may also call me Logan ! Need to look for something somewhere in my blogs, or look for designs? Well you came to the right part of the room !
Let me point you over here to the Welcome Home part of the room, there's some spider webs, but it's hanging in there ! @lushy-caves-duo
Now let me walk you over to the Ben 10 corner ! All brand new and polished ! Currently being added to the most, and still a work in progress ! @bt-trio (can't be tagged, but that is the blog name)
Now, we move to the white board of things to do, which is empty..
The Commission Post !
Now, let's talk fandoms !
Let me show you this wall, with pictures of many main characters and side characters to fandoms I'm in !
- Welcome Home
- Ben 10
- Trollhunters
- Danny Phantom
- Sanders Sides
- Dreams of an Insomniac
- Hazbin Hotel / Helluva Boss
- Gravity Falls
I will also talk:
- Steven Universe
- Owl House
-Five Nights At Freddy's
- Bendy and the Ink Machine
- Percy Jackson (haven't finished no spoilers !!)
Let's see, anything else worth showing off?
Ah ! Let's show off the people I talk to, because they have a whole wall ! And before you ask, yes the composition of this rook is very confusing, you get used to it after a while ! Anyways go check these people out, they truly deserve it !
Lush - @lushy-nights
Ry/Bread/F.U.N - @danger-loaf
Mo/Timer - @maywolfthebread
Koi - @koibreadloaf
Glow - @tired-glowshroom
Those are all the accounts I can think of right now-
Perhaps my friends' other blogs ? Yes that will do !
Lush - @mainecoon-and-lilac @ministry-of-dark-magic @voidily-butterfly @tailorspiders @travelerwally @ghostie-wally @ghostie-home
Ry/Bread - @wacky1997
Mo - @voidwhau @swwhau
Koi does not have any
Other blogs of theirs I could not tag includeeee
Lush - Traveler/Wanderer Home, Roaming Wally, Roaming Home, Opposite W/T. Wally/Home, Opposite Roaming Wally/Home
(Yes, Mx. Nights has many blogs.)
Other Social Media
YouTube - TNBC_Lover / @V4yBerr1es , Toast Ghost Productions / @ToastGhostProdictions
X/Twitter (unfortunately) - @NovaFlaresSpooks
TikTok - @tnbc_lover
Pinterest - @TNBC_Lover
Instagram - @lo_makes_art / @vay.bee.official
Thank you for attempting to navigate my Tumblr ! Have much fun !
#your local enby artist 🎃🎨#sanders sides#toa#trollhunters#dreams of an insomniac#ben 10#gravity falls#danny phantom#welcome home#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#steven universe#the owl house#fnaf#batim#intro post#navigation#navigation post#tagged blogs#Lush why do you have so many fucking blogs ?
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Masks and Facades
No Warnings Apply
Teen and Up Audiences
Klaus Hargreeves and Number Five
The Umbrella Academy
Word Count: 6,794
Completed.
Klaus is sober and Five is capable of feeling emotions.
That being said, just because Five does have a heart, doesn't mean he knows how to actually use it to bond with his brother
Or maybe he does because it's just so easy to talk to Klaus.
Sober Klaus was… different. Unexpected. An outlier.
Not to say that it was unexpected that Klaus would ever be able to get sober, no. But his behaviour was definitely unexpected.
For one, while sober, Klaus couldn’t cook anything. Toast was a struggle. Compared to when he was high as possible when he seemed to become a 4-star chef.
While sober, Klaus was definitely more distracted by the ghosts around him. Sure, he’d learned to deal with them better than when Sir was ‘training’ them, but they were definitely more distracting. But while high, the only ghost he seemed to see was Ben. Five was sure that was because of stubbornness, however he couldn’t figure out whether it was stubbornness on Ben’s part to try and stop Klaus’ destructive behaviours or whether it was Klaus subconsciously needed some sort of support, especially the kind of support that could be easily ignored or couldn’t physically stop him.
Five supposed, the reason he was so caught up on how Klaus had changed was because it was the more noticeable change between his siblings. After Five had managed to make his way back from being stuck in the future and then under The Commissions thumb, his siblings hadn’t changed all that much, bar the change in Ben’s mortality. But he had already grieved Ben, along with his other siblings in the future. He knew how Ben died, granted he didn’t know the details. He suspected the only people who would know how Ben had died would be those who were present. Vanya wouldn’t know, and despite everything else she had written in her book, he doubted very much that she would write the details of their brother’s death in her book.
But, back to the subject.
In the week that followed his return, Five noticed in the back of his mind every time Klaus changed. Whether it was for better or worse. Klaus was always more… flexible. More mouldable. He wore masks, whether he realised it or not, Klaus had masks for each person he spoke to. His default though, seemed to be the junkie who could see ghosts. That was the mask Klaus had started to carefully construct when they were younger, before Five has disappeared. It was the mask he wore when he was faced with more than just one of his siblings. It was the mask he had defaulted to when Five returned.
Which had, stung. More than he’d like to admit. Five knew that mask well. It was the mask Klaus used when he didn’t know who he was talking to. It had definitely stung that Klaus used the mask with Five, but he knew the reason. For them, he had been gone for 16 years. Even though it had been longer for him, he knew he wasn’t the same person as when he was 13. He wasn’t the same person, but Klaus being able to see that immediately through the haze of pills and alcohol that was a constant in his system now stung.
But he took it with stride. He knew how Klaus ticked, and it made him feel warmer inside when Klaus had acted the same way Five knew when they were younger. The idiot with poor impulse control but who could always get them out of trouble with a new mask for a new person. Although his lip had stung and he was sure that his brother’s forehead was stinging through his fogged-up mind, he smiled when he saw that Klaus had once again got them out of trouble.
That moment, that small, seemingly insignificant moment was the exact point when the default mask had started cracking and slipping from his face as he turned to Five and asked for his twenty dollars after the front doors to the lab shut behind them. With that job taken care of, Five decided his efforts were better spent on averting the apocalypse. If he needed his siblings, he would tell them, would take Luther’s place as leader. But until then, he needed Klaus to see him as his brother again but he needed, more than anything to know they were all safe. If they weren’t involved, then they wouldn’t die and then he would have at least changed something and they wouldn’t be alone. But until then, until he knew whether he had succeeded in averting the apocalypse, he needed to keep one eye on his siblings and one eye on finding Dolores. And the fake eye on averting the apocalypse.
Finding Dolores had been a priority since he came back. But when Hazel and Cha-Cha found him with Dolores, both eyes had been on getting out alive with Dolores. He had kept running until he got back to the Academy. He had stitched himself up, his only thoughts on keeping Dolores safe and fixing the apocalypse. Surely his siblings would be fine while he altered his calculations. They had grown up the same as him after all.
They would all be fine.
Until they weren’t.
After he had come back to the Academy, dragged there by Diego who didn’t want him in his disgusting boiler room anymore. He had found the trail of wet, bloody footprints coming from the small bathroom directly to Klaus’ room. He had been shocked and curious by the trail of diluted blood. He had been prepared for some blood in the mansion, after Diego and Luther mentioning Hazel and Cha-Cha’s uninvited visit. He hadn’t been prepared for his brother.
In the few days it had been since Five had seen his ghostly brother, he had not expected such drastic changes. The new tattoos and the new-old dog tags around his neck didn’t shock him as much as the air surrounding him.
Klaus had always been a cold person physically. He had used it to torture his sibling’s countless times when they were children, had even used his freezing hands to try and throw them off when they were all forced to spar with each other by Sir’s insistence. They all knew it was due to his powers. And they all knew that the more ghosts clinging to him, the colder he was. Since Five had returned, Klaus seemed to have been at a constant temperature, kept consistent by the only ghost clinging to him being Ben. But the shift in temperature as Five stepped through the doorway to his brother’s room shocked him. It was like walking into a freezer. It was like something in the room was sucking out all heat, but Five knew that it wasn’t on purpose. He could also see how dirty-clean Klaus was. Physically, he was still quite dirty and rough looking. There were still spots of dirt on his skin that seemed like they were tattooed there more than just smeared there. His hair seemed more tamed than usually, but on Klaus it just seemed wrong. Off. No matter how clean it would look on anyone else, on his brother, it still seemed dirty and unkept.
But his eyes were the biggest change.
Five could still tell his brothers head was foggy. His mind was still hazy and his eyes were still glossy, but it was different this time. It was a cleaner, more pure fog that graced his brothers mind. There was no other way to describe it, but despite how high Klaus might have looked to the untrained eye, Five knew. He knew the symptoms. He knew that his brother had travelled in time and come back the same age, give or take however long he had been gone. His mind was already firing up questions and calculations, answering questions to himself that he hadn’t asked already. His feelings for his brother and how he might have felt were filed away for the moment. He knew when he went for a more analytical view of life that Dolores hated it, hated seeing him shed all sense of person, but in that moment, that brief moment of amazement that his brother had managed to get Hazel and Cha-Cha’s briefcase and use it, he couldn’t remember why it was so bad. Why it was so wrong to see the bigger, clearer image.
His moment of elation was quickly shut down when Klaus wouldn’t (couldn’t, his brain later supplied, when he was thinking with his heart and head in equal balance) answer his questions. When he had told his younger-older brother that he had broken the briefcase, that he had left it on that street corner to explode and burn when he had the chance. He wasn’t thinking about his brother. He needed that briefcase. He needed that briefcase to blackmail Hazel and Cha-Cha. Anything else was irrelevant. If he had that briefcase, he could stop the apocalypse from happening. He could save his siblings from dying. He wouldn’t have to bury them a second time.
(He knew in the back of his mind, that the worst thing the Commission could do to him if he failed to stop the apocalypse would be to save him. Save him and let his siblings die and make him grieve them all over again. And let him repeat the cycle of trying to save his family and failing and trying and failing and trying and failing and-)
The door swinging back against the wall knocked him out of his thoughts as Klaus left. He hadn’t seen his face, but he knew, he just knew that Klaus had a different mask for him now. It would be a completely new one and there was no way that Five would know what it could be. He had just thrown all of Klaus and his new changes to the side in favour or plotting (of trying to save his family. Feelings didn’t matter now if he couldn’t save them later) but he knew that Klaus wouldn’t-couldn’t give him the junkie mask.
Five had already seen that Klaus was clean. Even if he didn’t know exactly why, he knew there was a reason for being clean and Five knew that Klaus knew that he knew that. Which meant Klaus couldn’t put forward the junkie mask again.
Not any time soon at least.
(There’s no time for feelings. Hazel and Cha-Cha don’t know the briefcase is broken. They can still be used. We can still fix the world and then fix our family)
He wasn’t sure when he had started referring to himself as we. Maybe when he saw the Academy destroyed. Maybe when he buried his siblings. Maybe when he couldn’t find Vanya. Maybe when he found Dolores. Maybe when he lost Dolores. Maybe when he gone back to his 13-year-old body but was still older than all his siblings who were all born on the exact same day or the exact same year as him.
Maybe when he realised that Sir Reginald was right and that he wasn’t ready for time travel. Maybe when he realised that he hadn’t come out of the ice properly.
Maybe he had come out of the ice properly and the travel had changed everyone else.
He wasn’t sure anymore, and he wasn’t sure the other part of his brain that referred to him as ‘we’ knew either.
Dolores would know, but he wasn’t sure-they- weren’t sure they-he- wanted to admit he was wrong this soon. Especially not about hurting his brother by pushing his heart aside and thinking with his head.
The days that followed, he saw Klaus much less. It was his own fault, but he couldn’t dwell on that. Not after he had filed away Klaus’ feelings for his own gain and effectively broken that mask that Klaus had spent time creating and perfecting for him. His mask with Diego was more open, more vulnerable. With Luther it was the same as it had always been, just crazy enough to keep Luther away from him but just friendly enough that he wasn’t a threat. But it kept shifting with Five now. For a moment it would be the junkie mask, the next moment it would be the mask he had spent years on, the next it would be a combination of all the masks Klaus used on his siblings separately.
It stung Five to know he had shattered the mask Klaus wore with him. It stung to know that once it was complete, he would most likely get the same new default mask. The mask he’d be able to wear with all his siblings together that wasn’t the old ‘junkie-who-can-see-ghosts’ mask.
It stung to know he had become a stranger to his brother again when all Five could think was he didn’t want to bury his brother again.
The sting of his failure to recognise his brother’s emotions didn’t leave him. Especially when he was designated the lookout like nothing had changed when everything had actually changed. It stung when he saw that confident, smug look on his brothers face after he manifested Ben and used their dead brother’s powers. The smile that Five had carefully crafted all those years ago, because it was the one thing he had over Sir Reginald. That he was better at controlling his powers than his siblings and he knew it but Sir Reginald couldn’t do shit about it because they both knew he wasn’t wrong.
It stung to know his brother didn’t have a mask for him any more but that he had been carefully crafting Five’s smug smile, even after he had disappeared. Because Five knew, that no matter how hard he had tried when they were younger, Klaus could never get the perfect balance between overconfidence and justified confidence that had come naturally to Five.
A few months after they had averted the apocalypse, and a few days after Five was absolutely sure that they were all safe from The Commission, he had decided it was time to come face to face with his brother again. He knew that whatever mask Klaus had made for him would sting, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid it forever. Not when all of his siblings were insistent on having ‘family-bonding-time’ to try and stop any chance of another apocalypse happening. He knew that Klaus had been practising with his powers along with Vanya so they could both learn at their own pace. He knew that they had bonded over Sir Reginald’s ‘training’ induced claustrophobia. Neither of them wanted to chance of being locked away to deal with their powers again and had elected to train each other outside in the garden, by Ben’s new memorial. One that had been made after Klaus had manifested Ben one day, who had then made a comment about how much he had hated the statue and was glad when Luther had knocked it down at their dad’s funeral.
The new memorial was much better, in all of their opinions. Instead of a statue with the vaguest influence of their brother, they had all chosen to take care and help grow a large evergreen tree. It had taken a while to get it to the right size, but since they had all been thrown into the past to help Vanya anyway, by the time they had caught up to themselves in the timeline, the tree towered over the garden and was perfect for climbing. It had become one of Klaus’ favourite spots in the grounds of the Academy and there was almost a guarantee that no one would interrupt them when Five had made up his mind (it was his own now. He had stopped referring to his body and mind as we. He wasn’t sure when, but it had happened and he wasn’t going to question himself).
He had planned out the encounter perfectly. He’d wait until early evening, when Klaus and Vanya had finished training with each other, when Diego had gone to do some PI work (he still justified it as being a vigilante but they all knew he had stopped being ‘Batman’ nowadays), when Luther and Allison were off, either working on their weird relationship or helping Allison get Claire back (they were all becoming quite anxious to meet their niece every time Allison talked about her so there was no chance Allison or Luther would be willing to interrupt his encounter with Klaus). He knew that Klaus and Ben had an agreement that early in the evening, Ben would go off to do whatever ghost things he did and Klaus would enjoy the setting sun (it had quickly become his favourite past time during his times at rehab and had made getting sober easier on him every day when he was ‘trapped’ in rehab. (He hadn’t said it, but they all knew it was because of Mom and Pogo reminding him on particularly bad days that there couldn’t only be ghosts in the world because then there would only be darkness and a sunset couldn’t exist in an everlasting darkness. He didn’t need to say it.))
Five had gone to sleep the day before, after going over his plan in his head for the fifth time and to Dolores for the third time. He had planned it perfectly, even down to the time he would need to wake up the next day (it wasn’t any different than normal but if he woke up later then the plan would have to wait for another day (“Yes it does matter Dolores. No, I’m not procrastinating. It matters. It always matters.”))
He was going to sleep for 9 hours, and wake up at exactly 8am. (“Even if I’m a minute late waking up then it waits another day, Dolores. I already told you, it always matters.”)
His plan was perfect and timed and there was no way it would go wrong.
Until he was woken up to the smell of coffee, the noise of a mug being plonked on his bedside table, his curtains being thrown open to let the sun shine directly onto his face and a body sinking onto the bed right by his head. He sat up sharply, reflexively reaching beside him (his gun was gone. He couldn’t protect himself- there was nothing to protect himself from. He was safe. He is safe. He didn’t-doesn’t- need the gun anymore. He didn’t before but he definitely doesn’t now.) He turned his head to the side to look at his alarm before even attempting to figure out who had woken him at-
28 minutes past 4. In the morning. 4:28 AM.
His plan was ruined. It would have to wait until tomorrow.
He turned to face the person who had woken him up and ruined his plan, ready to lash out at Luther or Diego or Allison. Vanya wouldn’t have woken him at this time of morning. (Allison probably wouldn’t have either, but it was still her preferred method of waking him up. Annoying him awake with light and sound before making him compliant with coffee.)
His words died on his tongue when he came face to face with Klaus.
Klaus, smiling at him.
Klaus smiling at him.
Klaus smiling at him.
He wasn’t sure what shocked him the most. The fact that Klaus, the brother he had been very obviously ignoring for the past few… however long it had been (time travel would always be a bitch) or that fact that it was Klaus who had come to him first.
Klaus wasn’t a patient person. All of their siblings knew that. They all also knew that Klaus would easily annoy other people but wouldn’t get annoyed easily. But when he was annoyed, or hurt mentally, he knew how to hold a grudge. Five expected Klaus to try and get away from him as soon as he put his plan into action, which is why he had chosen to try and corner him on his perch of some of the taller branches of Ben’s tree (Klaus may still have destructive tendencies, but they had lessened significantly since he had become sober (since he came back from Vietnam after watching someone he loved die) it was one of the changes Five found fascinating about his brother. That he could be so destructive for years of their lives, even after seeing their little brother (Ben would always be the little brother despite being the same age as the rest of them and not being the smallest. He had tended to try and take up the least amount of room possible and became the little brother while Vanya had become their little sister) die. He had kept up his destructive tendencies even after he had died and overdosed so many times (“He overdosed 9 times before he figured out the limit and died 6 other times while high, once while sober” Ben’s voice echoed in his head.) and it was only when it was someone who had loved him back and loved him fully through his misgivings and until his death, that Klaus had decided it wasn’t worth the risk to destroy himself to piss of Sir Reginald (Sir Reginald who still didn’t care what Klaus did, just that he had been a disappointment to him).
Five was still processing and sorting through all his early morning intrusive thoughts when Klaus smile brightly at him (it was Five’s mask. The same one as before. Somewhere deep inside him a coil of tension unfurled and soothed. Maybe he hadn’t broken everything) before grabbing the mug of coffee and pushing under Five’s nose.
“I got that coffee you were banging on about. Figured you might have noticed it already, but looks like you haven’t.” He had noticed it. He knew that someone had bought it for him. He knew that it had probably been Klaus. But he hadn’t been ready to face his brother and therefore wasn’t ready (deserving) to have a decent cup of coffee so had suffered. He blinked slowly, still trying to get rid of the grogginess before slowly lifting his hands to take the mug out of Klaus’ hand and away from his face. (The mug was close to overflowing and he was sure Klaus had already spilled a few drops on his nightstand and bed already, and he could tell the coffee had been brewing too long but he would still drink it (no one had gone through this much trouble for him since… since forever. He wasn’t used to this but he thought he might be able to) because Klaus had made it).
“No. Smiling this early in the morning is unnatural and disgusting. Do you even realise what time it is?” He knew his words were sharper than he wanted them to be, but he still couldn’t get past the fact that his plan to confront Klaus had been ruined by Klaus confronting him.
“It’s half past four in the morning and you have been ignoring me and the coffee I bought you. Don’t complain.” The smile left Klaus’ face, but eh amusement in his eyes didn’t leave and the mask didn’t change. Silence fell between them, but it was comfortable as Five lifted the mug up to his face and managed to take a small sip of too bitter (burnt) coffee without wincing. A few moments passed before Klaus opened his mouth to say something, but Five beat him to it.
“I’m sorry.” Klaus froze. Five didn’t look at him-couldn’t look at him. He knew he had been wrong to push Klaus aside before (later? He still wasn’t sure when it was). He had known even as he asked about the briefcase instead of what happened to his brother, when he got angry about the briefcase being destroyed and his brother messed with the dog tags (Dave’s dog tags. The only person outside the family Klaus had loved and who had loved him back equally. He needed to start using his name. He was worth that in the very least). He knew when instead of running after his brother he had sat down to scribble a note to meet with Hazel and Cha-Cha (the ones who had tortured his brother for information he didn’t have and who couldn’t keep hold of their briefcase long enough to keep it out of Klaus’ sticky fingers (it was their fault Klaus had been tortured in that motel and then with a love he couldn’t keep (but then it was also Five’s fault and he knew that))).
Klaus’ jaw was still hanging open and amazement had replaced amusement in his eyes. In all their years (he still wasn’t sure but without Dolores he knew his calculations would definitely be wrong) Five had never apologised. Not when they were children, not when he came back, not when they went back and not when they had finally been able to live their lives and start acting like a family. (He still needed to apologise to Vanya for saying she wasn’t important during the apocalypse (she was, she always had been important, regardless of her part in the apocalypse (but he needed to finish apologising to Klaus first.)))
“Dolores always hated when I stopped thinking properly but I just couldn’t stop and I wanted to be your brother again but then I didn’t want to bury you again and if I had the briefcase then I could stop Hazel and Cha-Cha without killing them because Luther really doesn’t like the idea of me murdering people and I didn’t want to-I don’t want to, but there wasn’t much choice because I didn’t want to bury you all again because it would be my fault if you all died because it would mean I’d failed and it’d be all on me and all my fault. I’m sorry I didn’t ask about what happened, or where you went, or when you went, or who you lost but I couldn’t stop thinking about how I could save you all because I didn’t want to lose all of you all over again.” His words spilled out of his mouth like bitter coffee. They stung, and burnt his throat, and numbed his lips and cheeks and tongue and he didn’t even realise he was crying until he felt the burning coffee mug (it wasn’t hot enough to burn his throat so why- oh yeah, the tears) being pried from his death grip (he hadn’t realised he was gripping it so tight-that must have been why his fingers were burning) and when he felt his brother’s cold (they were always so cold) hand reach up to wipe away his tears with one hand while he set the mug down on the coffee table again (carefully this time-Klaus must have noticed the few drops he’d spilt before). The trails of salt on his cheeks that were making his way into his mouth through his open lips (that must have been the sting. The salt from his tears). He didn’t even realise how much he was crying until his brother’s voice slowly started to echo in his ears past the ringing and slight pain at his temples.
“… two, three, four. Breathe out, one, two, three, four.” He felt his breathing slow, and opened his eyes (when did he close them (better question: when did he lift his hands up to press his fingers into his temples?)). He looked into his brother’s face and saw him smile shakily with wet eyes. (Five was the one who had been crying, there was no need for Klaus to have tears in his eyes (He realised later, when he was more awake and more… steady that Klaus was close to crying because his brother was crying-he didn’t know when he would get used to seeing his family care about him again (they couldn’t care if they were just corpses he was burying))) “Just breathe for a minute Five.” Klaus paused in his words as he helped Five bring his hands to warm themselves around the mug of coffee again, and wiped the remainders of the tears from his little (no matter how much Five wanted to disagree, he had always been the smallest of them all (only just in comparison to Ben or Vanya, but smaller nonetheless)) brother’s face.
“There’s a lot to unpack there Five.” (He knows there’s a lot to unpack, it was his fault for all of it anyway (maybe not the actual apocalypse but his definitely still played his part in that.) “But you know I don’t blame you right? Like, none of this was your fault. Especially none of the stuff with Dave or Hazel and Cha-Cha. You didn’t make them kidnap me, or torture me, and you weren’t the one who set that briefcase to the fucking Vietnam War. I mean, you didn’t even send them after you or any of us in the first place. The only person I blame is that Handler lady and dad but that’s just because I blame him for everything.” He paused again, taking a breath to look straight into Five’s eyes (he did that a lot-now he was sober. It was one of the bigger but more subtle changes Five had noticed now Klaus was sober. He could look people in the eye now). He wiped off the remainder of Five’s tears from the corners of his eyes before leaning back slightly. His head tilted slightly (Ben) as he stayed silent before he continued speaking, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. “It was extremely shitty, being tortured and then escaping only to end up in Vietnam in the middle of a war in only a towel and my coat, but if the situation came up again, you know the only thing I’d do different?” Five shook his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak, he couldn’t predict what Klaus was about to say. His head was turned too far away from him. Klaus looked at him from the corner of his eyes and Five shook his head again. “I’d save Dave. I wouldn’t wait for him to be killed, or follow him to the front lines. I’d keep him alive til the end of the war, I’d make sure he could go home and see his mom and his sister. Then I’d sweep him off his feet and bring him here, try and make a life with him here so we wouldn’t have to hide anything. That’s all I’d do. Just change it so he could live his life.” Five couldn’t speak.
How could his brother, who had arguably been screwed over physically more than any of them, not only not blame him for what had happened, but also not want to change it? Would willingly go back into a warzone for someone he’d only known for ten months?
He studied Klaus’ profile in silence as he tried to figure out what to respond with. He watched Klaus smile wistfully up at the ceiling. Watched as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes (probably both but Five could only see one of them (he wished he could see both. Just to make sure it wasn’t his brothers eye he’d carried around for years)). He watched as his brother (his big brother. It was starting to grow on him-that he didn’t have to be the strongest or oldest or smartest one anymore) tilted his head to the side again (always tilted it to the left (they all knew that Ben preferred to stay on his right-if only to screw with their father’s number order (they were children. They shouldn’t have been numbered; they should’ve had names))). He realised as he watched his brother just how much he had loved Dave (he was getting there-using his name. Even if he hadn’t said it out loud). There was nothing he could say that would even be close to right in response to that kind of statement (he knew what it implied. He’d sacrificed himself for the only person who had truly loved him and seen past everything (Dave had probably seen him through withdrawals and relapse and the nightmares during that time he spent in the past (he didn’t dwell on how Dave had probably seen Klaus worse than any of their siblings, especially him (he should’ve been there))).
He’d sacrifice himself for the only person he thought loved him without obligation.
He needed to change the subject. He needed to change the subject before he started crying again.
He lifted the mug to his lips to drink the coffee (it was still bitter and burnt but with the added effect of now being too cold (it was still better than anything else because Klaus had tried to make a perfect drink with his favourite coffee (he bought it specifically for him, he’d be damned if he wasted a single drop))).
After he choked down most of the liquid, he put the mug down on his bedside table again (it had to be in the exact same place or else everything would change again). He turned back to look at his (big) brother who was still probably swept up in his memories of Dave.
“It doesn’t absolve me of guilt Klaus.” His voice startled his brother, who snapped his head back to face him in confusion. Before he could retaliate, Five held up his hand and Klaus stopped. His brows furrowed further but quietened down nevertheless. “Just because all that wasn’t my fault, doesn’t mean I should’ve ignored you and your feelings. I should’ve asked about where you were, I should’ve noticed you were even gone. I should’ve asked what happened and not tried to reason my way out of it. Hell, I could’ve mentioned it to Diego or even Luther. I took him with me to try and blackmail Hazel and Cha-Cha with a broken briefcase and I could’ve told him then but I didn’t. And unless you’ve told any of them, then they don’t know either and they should know-we all should know because we’re your siblings and we should care more than we already do.” They both stayed quiet for the next few moments, both trying to absorb all the conversation. Five swallowed the rest of the burnt coffee, resolutely looking down at his bedsheets (still covering his legs, doing nothing to hide the nervous shaking). Once his mug was empty, he stared down at the bottom of it, staring at the coffee grounds that hadn’t been filtered out properly, as if they would give him answers or an idea of what to say (they wouldn’t. he’d tried too many times during the apocalypse to find answers of how to fix everything. He still wasn’t sure they’d done the right thing or that they’d averted the apocalypse completely, but there was no way of telling now the Commission was gone and there were no more briefcases left to travel with.)
“Alright then. It wasn’t your fault and you still feel guilty about being a prick. Is that what you wanted me to say?” Klaus’ serious tone shocked Five more than any part of this conversation. His head snapped up to stare at his (big) brother who was staring up at the ceiling, his head tilted back and his brows furrowed. Five had never seen his brother look as angry as he did now, he wasn’t entirely sure it was possible (Lies. Five had seen Klaus this angry before, the first time all of them, including Vanya, had tried to get Klaus sober. They’d taken all his drugs and half empty bottles from his room and Five had been the one to disappear with them while Luther pinned Klaus down. They’d all ignored his protests and his excuses. They’d all thought he was being dramatic. They’d thought he was being childish. Fuck, they should’ve just listened to him, tried to help. Christ, they were all so messed up.)
“Do you want me to say you’re a prick? That I think you’re a shit brother because you had so much on your mind that you weren’t worried about your druggie brother? Because honestly Five, I don’t blame you for anything, except pissing off in the first place. I don’t blame you for wanting to time travel, I don’t blame you for doing it just because dear old Reggie said you couldn’t, I don’t blame you for getting stuck in the fucking apocalypse, I don’t blame you for being more focused on the entirety of the human race dying than your own siblings, and I definitely don’t blame you for not asking me about my feewings while you were trying to stop us all from dying horribly.” The words were spat out of Klaus’ mouth like venom, as if the topic of emotion was too much, too close, too familial.
That stinging feeling was starting to come back in his chest.
It stung knowing that Klaus didn’t think he was worth feeling guilty for. That he thought he wasn’t worth anything Five was trying to say.
“Do you understand Five? I don’t blame you for anything that happened because I wasn’t your fault and there’s no reason to blame you. The only person I blame for any of this, the only person I will never forgive, is Reginald fucking Hargreeves. He turned us into soldiers and was directly responsible for at least one out of the seven of us becoming a druggie. He’s the reason that Vanya thought she was ordinary, he’s the reason Allison used her powers on us all the time, he’s the reason you disappeared and got stuck in the future, he’s the reason Diego has that scar, that Luther died and was brought back as a science experiment, the reason Ben died, the reason I became a junkie, and the reason why you had to see us all dead along with the rest of the world. There is literally no reason to blame you for ignoring my feelings when you were trying to fix all of his mistakes from when you were thirteen. The only thing he did right was die and not come bitching at me every hour.”
He did. He did understand. It didn’t get rid of the guilt completely, but it definitely lessened.
He didn’t understand how Klaus could feel so… worthless.
He didn’t understand how Klaus, who had been speaking to their dead brother this entire time, who had been sober for this long, had fought in the Vietnam War, had been able to manifest Ben to help keep them alive when they were being shot at, had been able to talk Vanya down after they averted the apocalypse, had essential fixed everything, could feel so worthless.
So undeserving.
Before he even realised, Five was reaching his arms up to pull at Klaus’ arm, tugging him down lightly.
The shock of his touch must have done most of the work, because Klaus was immediately half laying on top of Five’s small body, with Five’s small arms wrapping around his shoulders and his face buried in the nook between Klaus’ neck and shoulder.
The two of them stayed silent as Klaus slowly and carefully wrapped his arms around Five’s waist and they both relaxed into place.
Eventually, Five broke the silence, his murmured words only just making their way into Klaus’ ear.
“Tell anyone about this and you’re dead.” Klaus’ body started shaking as laughter took over his body and he fell out of Five’s grip, clutching his stomach, falling on his back across Five’s covered legs (that were no longer shaking. He wasn’t sure when they’d stopped, but thank Ben that Klaus either hadn’t noticed or jut hadn’t said anything.) Five struggled upwards, pulling his legs out from underneath Klaus’ lithe form to kneel over him. “I mean it Klaus! If you tell anyone I swear you’re dead!”
“Big Bad Assassin Five has emotions! Thank the Lord! It’s a miracle!” Klaus blurted out, and by now, Five was sure he had awoken Diego at the very least, maybe even Vanya (now she had her powers back, she was way too sensitive to any sounds. It had made it hard to try and surprise her now but also meant she was a much lighter sleeper than they’d all remembered her as.)
“Klaus shut up! It’s too early for you to wake up everyone with this shit!” Five shouted back, ignoring the fact that he was probably being even louder than his (big) brother. His statement, however, was contradicted by the fact he was smiling, a much bigger and truer smile than he had ever before (it seemed more like childish glee in this body, however, he couldn’t bring himself to care. They were finally starting to act like siblings. It had only taken some failed time travel, Reginald dying and averting the apocalypse.)
#ao3 to tumblr#ao3 writer#writing#my fic#the umbrella academy#klaus umbrella academy#five hargreeves
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it's been five days, please!
of course!!!
Ray mumbles, and Ben watches his partner amble into the apartment's small water-closet before turning to the stove. He’d prepared a simple chicken tortilla soup earlier in the day– Ray had enjoyed the dish the last time Mrs. Gamez had visited with a pot, and Ben had taken the time to request the recipe when he next saw her.
He hopes his attempt garners the same enthusiasm.
Ben’s just setting the table, warm toast and butter at the center of the table, when he hears the shower shut off. The next few minutes listening to Ray bumble around his bedroom, drawers and closet door opening and slamming shut muffled behind the wood door distracting him. Enough that he spills a ladle of soup while pouring their bowls and is forced to track down ray’s wet rag.
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