#but for tonight. i will indulge and write my silly little stories | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forever-rogue · 2 years

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your stories are the best! i cant tell you how much i love them, especially how you write steven 🥺. he deserves all the love tbh, but he also deserves some spice in his life. if you feel like writing it how about some steven spice where he loves to be praised by his s.o. 👀😌💛

totally ok if you dont write it tho! I dont mind💘 I hope you have an amazing week!!

AN | I’m sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for some time! But I hope y’all enjoy! Aka - in which Steven Grant gets spoiled and praised 😌

Pairing | Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Mild Language, Some Spicy Time

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Moon Knight

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Steven never asked for a lot. No, he would rather continue to give and give rather than ask for something from you. Even though you were more than willing to give; even when he didn’t ask for it. He did so much for you, that you hoped what you offered was even remotely good enough in turn. Not that he would ever say it wasn’t; in his eyes you could do no wrong. Just like him.

You paced around your office, waiting for him to pick up the phone, ready to let him know of your plans. You were sure that he would enjoy the evening you had planned, but regardless of what he would say, you weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“Hello darling,” his sweet voice was so gentle and cheerful that it made your heart flutter with happiness, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Do I need a reason to call you, love?” you sat back down and put your feet up on your desk, ready to indulge him in your little plans, but you decided instead to leave it more or less a complete surprise.

“Of course not,” he agreed softly, an amused chuckle reaching your ears, “it’s always wonderful when you call.”

“Well then,” you sighed softly, imagining his silly little smile that you loved so much, “I’m hoping you’ll think it’s wonderful if I ask if you’re free tonight.”

“You’re in luck - I happen to be very free,” he agreed, “I mean…I would have made myself free for you. I-I-I’m only free for you. I’m-”

“Steven.”

“Yes?”

“Stop talking, love,” you giggled, “it’s a date then. Want to come to mine around six?”

“That sounds perfect,” he agreed eagerly and your skin raised with gooseflesh at the mere idea of seeing him that evening, “I’ll see you at six.”

“See you at six, handsome.”

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

You’d left work early, deciding that you weren’t busy enough to justify sitting around and wasting time. As soon as you’d gotten home, you cleaned up the few things that were out of place and made sure everything was pristine. On your way home you stopped at the flower shop, and picked up a colorful display of blooms and blossoms that you were sure Steven would like. He often brought you flowers, the reaction on your face each time was priceless, and this time you wanted to do the same for him. You’d picked up everything to make his favorite dinner and dessert, and even a notice of the nice wine you both enjoyed. It was a simple date night at home, but you hoped he would enjoy it nonetheless.

After everything was prepped, you hopped into the shower and took your time getting ready, slipping into the pretty dress that you loved and knew Steven did too, even if he wouldn’t admit it. By the time six o’clock rolled around, you were in the kitchen, singing along to some music you had put on as you worked on dinner. You heard the sound of the door softly, which caused you to stop what you were doing and run over to him.

“My love!” you barely gave him the chance to close the door before you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. He made a small sound of surprise but was quick to return the gesture, swaying gently with you in his arms, “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Me too,” he promised, as you took his face and cradled it in your hands in order to get a proper look at him. He was so handsome, from those soft eyes to that silly smile, and those roguish curls that it still managed to take your breath away. You kissed him, softly letting your lips linger against his, “I love you.”

“Oh,” you’d said the words to him probably a thousand times over by now, but the sentiment still made butterflies explode in his stomach. You stroked his cheek when you spied the bit of color rising up into his cheeks, “I love you too.”

“I have something for you,” you took his hand and pulled him towards the kitchen, where he immediately spotted the flowers. His eyes widened in surprise as he looked between them and you. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, tilting your head towards them. He wondered if you could hear the wild, erratic beating of his heart as he tried not to melt at the sweet gesture. It wasn’t that you didn’t do things like this for him, you did - just as he did for you, but this had come just so…out of the blue. At a perfect time, just like you’d known he needed a little pick me up, “do you like them?”

“I love them,” he promised quietly, gently touching a few of the soft petals. He swallowed the lump in his throat, making a surprised sound instead as you wrapped your arms around his waist. You rested your head against his back, breathing him in and relaxing. You couldn’t help but smile when you felt him place a hand on top of yours, “thank you, darling. You really didn’t need to do all of this for me.”

“I wanted to,” you pressed a few kisses to his shoulder, hoping he could feel them through the soft fabric of his sweater, “you are a good man, Steven Grant. You always do so much for me, but this time I wanted to do something for you. I want to spoil you sometimes too, love.”

A shiver ran through his spine at your words and he quickly turned around, taking your face in his warm, large hands before kissing you gently. The sudden shift took you by surprise, but it was easy as always to melt into him. He tasted of peppermint and sweetness, his lips soft and plush. You could easily kiss him for hours.

“Steven,” you couldn’t help but giggle in between his kisses. He seemed to be loath to let you go, wanting to leave all of you against him. Not that you minded of course, no - if it was possible you’d never let him go, “silly man! Let me go so I can finish dinner, otherwise we’ll be eating nothing but ashes and char!”

“It’d be worth it so long as I get to keep kissing you,” he grinned as you put your hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him back. He sighed dramatically before trailing after you, “what can I help with, darling?”

“Your company is more than enough,” you insisted, “but if you want to do something, and I know you won’t let it go until I give you something to do - grab some wine glasses and pick a bottle. I got a couple that we both like, but tonight’s your choice.”

“You’re too good to me,” a light red flush had crept up in his cheeks as he busied himself with the little task you’d given him. You hadn’t even told him what you were making for dinner, but he immediately knew it was his favorite, “how about a nice red?”

“Sounds wonderful,” you agreed, “just like you, Steven Grant.”

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

After dinner and a bottle of wine split between the two of you, you found yourselves on the couch, cuddled in a warm blanket with a movie playing in the background. But…neither of you were paying attention to it, too lost in each other.

You’d started off next to each other, with your hands together, fingers entwined but that had quickly turned into a slew of kisses. There was a certain fervent hunger that seemed to be in both of you that evening and you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. After a little bit, you found yourself perching in his lap, exchanging kisses that grew more needy with each passing moment.

“Steven,” his name dripped from your lips like the sweetest, thickest honey as kissed along his jaw. You could feel him inhale sharply as you continued down his neck, nipping at the soft skin lightly. There was part of you that was tempted to mark him up to let everyone know he was yours, but you refrained. You knew he’d never live it down and didn’t want him to get relentlessly teased. You stopped and pulled back for a moment before cradling his face in your hands, “I love you so much. You’re so good to me, baby. I love everything about you.”

You could practically see his expression soften as he bit his bottom lip. You knew he tended to be more shy, but there was something about it that you just loved. His hands were settled on your hips, fingers splayed. He opened and closed his mouth for a moment before giving you a small nod, “I-I love you too. You’re so-”

“Shhh,” you put a finger to his lips and shook your head. Once you were satisfied that he wasn’t going to try and dissuade you from speaking, you pulled your finger away, “you are always so good and gentle to me, so now you’re going to let me do the same to you. You’re going to let me love on you, yes?”

“Y-yes,” he nodded, swallowing so thickly that you could see his adam’s apple bob up and down, “please.”

“My sweet Steven,” you leaned in and buried your face into the crook of his neck, sliding your hands up his chest and slowly starting to undo the buttons of his shirt. He smelled so good - warm and musky and something that was uniquely him. You could never get enough of it, “my sweet boy. You are so handsome.”

You pressed a kiss to each part of his skin that slowly became exposed. Steven sighed lightly as you shifted your hips against his. You could feel that he was already hard, his erection pressing against your clothed center, “so kind. So smart. So good. You’re everything to me.”

A small, wistful little sigh escaped his lips, his grip on your hips getting stronger. He was always so gentle with you, but sometimes you wouldn’t have minded if he was a little rougher. You put your hands on top of his and tightened his grip. He looked up at you with expectant expression, always careful not to cross any unspoken boundaries, “darling-”

“You can let go, Steven,” you ran a hand through his dark curls, ruffling the soft, roguish locks, “have I ever told you how handsome you are?”

“Y-yes-”

“How good you make me feel?” your hand was on his cheek as you pulled him in for a kiss, “no one makes me feel as good as you do. No one touches me like you do. It’s like you were made for me, Steven Grant.”

“I-I-I-”

“But I know,” you’d cut off his nervous stammering by pressing your lips to his, taking every little bit he was willing to give, “I know that you like being good. Which you are, my love, you are the best thing in my life. But sometimes, I feel like you want to let go. Is that what you want, handsome?”

“Mhmm,” you could feel the wild beating of his heart from under your hand that was on his chest. His skin was flushed, tan and crimson, and overly tantalizing. You wanted to map out every last bit of his skin with your lips, to carve out all of his freckles and scars, “I-I want that.”

“I know you do,” you cooed in his ear, “and I want you to. I want you to use me however you want. I’m yours, Steven. Take what you need.”

“A-are you sure?” his eyes flicked to your lips and down your chest before spotting to admire where you were sitting in his lap and slowly grinding yourself against him, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you promised, “I trust you - more than anyone else. Let go, my sweet, wonderful, handsome boy. Take what you need and let me give you what you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you slowly climbed off his lap, making him groan slightly from the loss, but quickly held out your hand to him, “come on, love. Let me make you feel good and spoil you in every which way possible. Then you can take whatever you need from me, without holding back.”

“I love you,” his hand slipped into yours as you quickly pulled him towards the bedroom.

“I love you, Steven Grant.”

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x fem!reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader #moon knight

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evaofkonoha · 5 months

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2, 10, and 30 please!

Yay!! Thank you for playing along I appreciate it sm 🥰😘

2. Since starting my new AO3 account, 26 of my 27 works were added to/worked on this year! I have so much unpublished stuff I worked on this year it would honestly be hard to count 😅 so let's just say 30+ and call it? I hand write so much and have a tendency to start stuff and never do anything with it. Maybe I should just start publishing it? haha idk, needless to say I think I write a decent bit honestly!

10. Oh god this is toughie! Different fics brought me joy for very different reasons. My Love For You Will Never Die was an incredible, super collaborative process that is so silly and goofy I think I will always love it. It was born from me sharing a prompt and then goofing off on discord until I decided I might as well write this nonsense down! It is my best (and kind of only) true comedic work.

Very Good Lives was a whirlwind to write, and I poured so much of myself into it. I am proud of it, even though I currently can't return to it due to some conflicting emotions and stuff. I hope to return to it one day and feel content and proud of it completely.

Finally I think I Need You Tonight in a big way! It is so self indulgent in just about every way, but I am so happy that I am leaning into the self indulgence. It's also really fun, because I feel like I am starting to interact with others in the ShiIta/ItaShi community a little bit. While I still feel very new to the ship and am still finding my footing, the kind comments and interactions and everything have really encouraged me and made the process insanely fun. I am really glad others seem to love this story.

Okay, super long and probably not a very good answer! So sorry for that, but it's so tough to narrow down to one honestly.

30. So many things!!! I hope to continue writing into the new year, now that I have rediscovered my passion for it over the course of this past year!!! 🥰 Specifically though, I want to ofc finish up INYT, I have a Naruto shinobiverse masquerade thing I really want to tackle, and there's an SNS manga cafe brain worm I plan to write out at some point.

Thank you for the ask, it honestly does mean so much, I am such a hoe for these kinds of games 😂 It has been a wonderful writing year, and I hope to keep up the good energy into 2024~

#ask answered #ask game #this response is way too long #so sorry about that #writing

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thatgamingkid45 · 1 year

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What’s y’all’s music vibes for tonight? Cause I’m currently in a cyberpunk/darksynth mood. So, I figured I’ll share a few of what I’m listening too!

If you’d like to hear me out/find some new (ish) music to listen to, hit read more!

To kick this off, I want to share a song that basically got me into the genre. I love the saxophone and the synth; the 80s synth pop vibes really mix well with the dark feel of the track. I like how mysterious it sounds, like it could be an opener to a futuristic adult, action, thriller about a detective solving crimes in a cyberpunk society. Idk, that’s just what I get from it. Anyways, here’s “Liberty Alarm” by Acryl Madness

To continue this list, here’s a song that I was obsessed with for a short while. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still one hell of a bop, but it has comfortably integrated into my playlists. It definitely gives off boss battle vibes! Especially with that goddamn opening dude, like bRO. I’m going a bit off the rails, but off you’ll indulge me, it gives me a “corruption of a hero” type beat. Like the protagonist finally snapping and going on a vengeance-fueled mission to enact revenge on whoever and/or whatever wronged them so badly. I might be reading a little too much into it, but dude I love this song. So, I bring you “Slice” by Street Cleaner!

“When you've waited fifteen years to find a man... it's a shame you can only kill him once!”

For the penultimate entry in this cyberpunk Music Rant, I want to write about a song I fell in love with from the first few seconds. A song that I discovered from Spotify recommendations, and I’ve been a big fan of the artist ever since! It’s a song that, when compared to the other entries on this list, is actually quite chill. It has a different kind of sound, while very much still being synthwave if that makes sense. It’s likely because of the different instruments blended in. The ghostly piano stabs, the quiet roar of the buzzing synth, combined with the digital drums keeping a steady beat, all make for a really nice experience. Just when you think it couldn’t get better, the saxophone comes in and joins the party. All in all, it’s just a really nice song to get lost in. I present you with “Missing” by Orax!

And finally, we have come to the final entry on this list. Well, I feel like I have to cut it off here cause it’s getting a little long lmao. You came here for music, not for my life story after all. I’ve decided to end it off on a rather silly note in a way. It’s a great song, or rather, a great cover of a song many of you likely already know. Though, I’d argue it’s even better than the original. Really! I’ve listened to this version so much that the original song seems empty by comparison. The artists just added everything the original needed, and holy shit it’s so goddamn good. I present to you, Carpenter Brut’s cover of “Maniac”!

“And she’s dancing like she’s never danced before…”

Thanks for reading this far! Or probably skipping this far let’s be honest lmaoo. If you’d like to hear me rant about more cyberpunk type-beats, let me know! Cause I got a whole playlist!

Anyways have a great day my dudes ✌🏼

#music rant #music rants #cyberpunk #darksynth #acryl madness #street cleaner #Orax #carpenter brut #blog post #the cat is rambling again #Spotify

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scourgedwindclan · 1 year

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Only found this fanfic tonight and I'm obsessed. I haven't fully read any warrior cat book past the Omen of the Stars series in middle school but here I am reading fanfics again.

I love the fact you aren't just going to leave out tunnelers but instead making it a "super secret rebellion club." I was really sad that tunnelers just sort of, died out. New territories don't have any lingering reminders of an important piece of their history and probably have forgotten about it. Please don't let the tunneler traditions die off. I beg of you.

Believe me, I'm so stoked that so many people are loving this story!! I was driven by nostalgia to return to the Warriors fandom during the pandemic. I also had only ever read until Omen of the Stars, but I was tempted by some things I'd heard from The Broken Code, so I decided I'd catch up.

As I was rereading the books (it took me like two years because I dropped The New Prophecy for a while lol) and catching up, I came up with this silly little self-indulgent AU with one of my friends that, as it turns out, isn't so silly or little now that I'm writing it! (It is self-indulgent though. That's not changing.)

Even if you don't read any of the newer Warriors books, I'm really honored that you find my fic (and others in the fandom) worthwhile to read.

As for tunneling, I was also really annoyed that it was introduced and taken away in the same book with little to no push-back. It makes WindClan stand out among the other Clans, and it's really frustrating that in newer books all of the Clans seem to be homogenized. None of the Clans have their own cultures anymore, except maybe for SkyClan. This is my way of fighting back against that. Trust me with the tunnelers. They aren't going anywhere!

#Coqui Sings #this ask made my day!!! thank you!!!

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himbos-hotline · 2 years

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So I was re-reading my "Saved" stories tonight as a refresher and all I can think of is that this whole (now 6 part) series is straight friggin self indulgence at this point. It stopped being a fan work ages ago I'm not writing this story by me for me because if the WWE is going to slow burn me to death with our guys I'm not gonna sit back and wait for the ending without writing my silly little tale of a different universe where they get married and live happily ever after. The only problem with this, of course, is that people are READING my silly little self indulgence saga and thereby enabling me.

Damn six parts ! I have some catching up to do. Maybe O'll just sit and read through all the parts again since its been a little while. It feels so weird that the saved saga got us talking and I dont regret it at all ! And yes you will write it better than wwe ever could! give me all the happy queers!

And they should enable you!! ya writing is AWESOME !!

#mouse has pals #shanie the toyaddict #writing pals

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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Everything, Everywhere | The Mikaelson Boys

Hello Lovelies! I circled back to my element and wrote a more traditional Mikaelson Boys fic. Did I reuse the theme of a ball? Yes, I am a weak and lazy woman. Did I make the fic completely implausible and touchy? You know I did, they’re vampires and I will let them touch whoever they want (with consent of course). Anyway, it’s honestly just a cute, kinda steamy romance. I altered some of the points from the universe but you have to squint to see where. You know, my entire gambit. You could use this as a prologue for my other fic, Big Decisions, but this is more than fine as a standalone. Anyways, I hope you are all doing well and that this story brings you joy! Until next time <3

Description: Y/n is part of a founding family and gets invited to a Mikaelson ball. Somehow she manages to enamour three of the brothers. They soon discover she has a few secrets that they’re more than willing to indulge.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x The Mikaelson Boys

Warnings: Kudos to me I think there are none

Word count: 10k (oops)

Tags: Fluff, smut if you squint (more like nudity)

“Are you heading home this weekend?” Lily twirls a strand of blonde hair between her fingers, “Mama told me there’s an event.”

Your best friend lays on your bed as opposed to her own, her legs dangling over the edge. Her eyes are closed, probably halfway to being asleep. It’s been this way since the two of you left for college three years ago, always more in your space than her own. You’re lucky that way, you have a best friend who would follow you across the country if you wanted her to. Honestly, you would do the same. Luckily, though, you decided on only two hours away away from home. Just far enough to find your footing. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

You smile softly at her, swiveling in your chair, “what event? My parents haven’t said anything to me.”

Your family is a founding family, just like Lily’s is. That’s how the two of you became best friends, it was practically destined. You were babies at the same time and your parents brought you to every meeting together. You were inseparable long before you can remember.

Lilly yawns, curling her legs to her chest, “I think it’s some sort of ball. I’m not too sure, I think we got invitations,” Lily rolls her eyes as if the concept of a hand written letter offends her very being, “and they probably just forgot or assumed I would tell you. Isn’t your mom, like, the head of the committee now?”

You nod at her, closing your own eyes for a second, “yeah she’s always got something going on. I swear she forgets she even has a daughter half the time.” You let your mind drift to the other half of the conversation, “Invitations? That’s exciting.”

You don’t have to look at her to know that she’s rolling her eyes again. You crack an eye open anyway just in time to glimpse her do that very thing. You giggle lightly, shaking your head.

Always one for theatrics, “careful, Lil, your tomboy is showing. What would your mother think if she could see you up in arms over a silly, little note, hmm?”

She scowls at you before letting the grin crack through, flipping her middle finger up at you and mouthing bite me.

You lean your head back against your chair, “I’m not even sure if mama wants me to come. She hasn’t said anything about this to me. She called me yesterday and it didn’t come up once. Maybe I should just stay here.”

“Not true,” Lily curls her fingers at you, beckoning you to join her on the bed, “she’s just busy these days. Remember how she was when we were little?”

You move to the bed, curling next to your best friend, “you mean how she was always around? She went from helicopter parent to too busy to text me back.”

You yawn, closing your eyes and letting the lullaby of sleep on your limbs sing a little louder. Lily cuddles closer to you, almost gone herself. You wish you could hold onto these moments. These fleeting minutes of comfort in your best friend’s arms. It’ll be gone all too soon. You almost don’t want to fall asleep. Laying next to her feels like the calm before the storm and you want to soak up as much of it as you can. Your heavy eyelids, however, have other plans.

“You’re coming. If I have to go then so do you. I’m sure this weekend will be different,” her voice is the last thing you hear before you drift off, “I can feel it.”

* * * * * * * * *

Sure enough, when you pull into your parent’s driveway after dropping Lily off at her own house, your mother bursts through the door, a wide smile on her face. You let your own smile drown the nerves you’ve been fighting for the last three hours, practically falling out of the car to get to her. She wraps you in a hug, her familiar honeysuckle and lilac scent trickling around you.

“I missed you, mama,” you whisper against her shoulder and she squeezes you tighter for a second before letting go.

“Oh honey,” she crinkles her nose at you, her face the picture of serene joy, “what’s to miss? I’m always right here. I, however, missed you so much.” She leads you into the house, her arm around your shoulders tight, “Tell me all about everything!”

You suck in a breath as you enter your house, letting your shoulders sag as you pass over the door frame. You’re home, finally. You glance around quickly at everything you’ve missed for the last few months. You glance at family photos, most of which include Lily, and the random trinkets your parents have collected over the years. There are a few new ones and you make a mental note to look at them later.

You settle on a stool at the kitchen counter, leaning your head in your hand, “you first, mama. What’s this about a ball? And an invitation, hmm? You’ve been holding out on me.”

Her eyes widen, telling you everything you need to know. She forgot. You really aren’t that surprised. It makes you feel better, at least the reason she didn’t tell you wasn’t because she didn’t want you to attend. Lily was right, you’ll have to let her say I told you so when you see her next.

“Oh shoot,” she snaps her fingers, rushing to the foyer, her voice floating to you as she turns the corner, “I’m so sorry honey, it completely slipped my mind. I barely had a chance to glance at my own invitation,” she comes back into view, now with two envelopes in her hand, “here you go!”

She hands you the envelope and you almost gasp at how luxurious the paper feels in your fingers. The cardstock is definitely of the more expensive selection and you blanche. Who on earth could be sending this? You read your name on the card drawn in an elegant script. Handwritten. You had been joking with Lily when you thought that but now, looking at it first hand, it almost offends you as well. You could never write like that.

You open it carefully, making sure to not taint the red seal. You’re pretty sure your heart would collapse if that happened. This has to be one of the most beautiful things you have ever touched. You pull the equally luxurious note from the envelope, your eyes dancing over the paper.

Please join the Mikaelson Family this coming Saturday at seven o’clock for dancing, cocktails, and celebration.

Your heart stops. This coming Saturday. Saturday. As in today Saturday. You whip your head up to stare at your mother, your mouth falling open.

“Mama,” this time your eyes widen, “this is tonight!” you hiss, your brows shooting up, “I can’t attend this! There’s no time, it’s two in the afternoon already!”

She rolls her eyes and for a moment you picture Lily and how she would call you dramatic. You can practically hear her voice. Just wear jeans you princess. You scoff at imaginary Lily. You can’t attend a ball in jeans, not that that would stop her at all.

“You can and you should attend,” she places a finger under your chin, drawing your eyes to meet hers, “the Mikaelson’s are new to town and have invited us. It’s only polite that we attend. Besides,” she winks at you and your cheeks flood with heat, “they are quite the handsome bunch. Perhaps you can end this dry spell? Give me some grandbabies?”

You choke at her words, pulling your face from her fingers with burning skin, “oh my god, mama! I’m almost certain you should not be condoning grandbabies! Besides, I have nothing to wear so I highly doubt I’ll be the one pulled from the crowd. Reproduction rates are looking slim, I am sorry to say!”

She laughs, her eyes crinkling, and you can’t stop yourself from joining her, “alright, alright. No grandbabies. Yet. However, I’m not so sure how you can be so certain when you haven’t even looked at what I picked up for you. I quite think you’re going to change your mind, honey bunch.”

Your laughter stops abruptly as she leaves the room for the second time. You hear her jog up the stairs and your interest is officially peaked. She never jogs. What on earth has she done? You rack your brain, trying to picture what she’s going to show you now. You don’t have much time to sit on your thoughts, however, because soon you can hear her feet on the stairs again, still jogging, now humming a tune you can’t place.

When she comes back into view, your mouth falls open. In her hands is a gown. No, not just a gown. In her hands is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. It’s a black, sequined number with a full skirt and a slit that looks like it will rest a touch lower than your hip. The straps keeping it on the hanger are thin, almost nonexistent, and the bodice has a deep but modest dip. When she moves it sparkles like a diamond, catching the sun rays pouring in through the kitchen window. She holds it up, letting it flow to its full effect in front of you, and you gasp, your hands flying to your mouth.

You can feel the tears prickling at the edge of your vision and you silently scold yourself for being so emotional, “mama, where did you get this? It’s too much!”

Her smile falters, minutely, but you still see it and curse silently, “you don’t like it?”

You stand quickly, your eyes wide, “no! That’s not it,” you take the dress from her, afraid it’ll disappear if you don’t touch it, “this must have cost a fortune is all! How can we afford this?”

It’s true, the dress looks like a million bucks and probably costs as much. You’re a founding family, sure, but that doesn’t instantly equate to old money. It doesn’t even mean new money. Your family has never struggled to get by but you also know that something this extravagant would have definitely set your father back a pretty penny. You don’t want your family to waste their hard earned money on something this frivolous, even if it is the most stunning thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

Your mother’s smile returns to its full brilliance and she shakes her head, “it didn’t cost me a thing, honey, don’t worry. Mrs. Jackson down the street owed me a favor and I asked if she had anything particularly pretty laying around. She pulled this from her closet. She also told me to let you know that it’s yours if you would like.”

You hug the dress tiger to your chest, your mouth gaping further, “I can keep this?”

Your mother giggles, bobbing her head up and down quickly. She looks like she’s ready to start jumping. You don’t blame her, you’re half a second away from doing the same thing. You could scream from how ecstatic you are.

“Come, honey,” your mom grabs your hand, dragging you up the stairs with her, “I think it’s high time we start getting ready for tonight, don’t you think? You have some Mikaelson’s to wow!”

* * * * * * * * *

When seven o’clock rolls around you’re standing outside the biggest mansion you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Its white pillars taunt you, each one large enough to hide your body. Twice. You’re alone, spare the people around you milling in and out of the large doors. Your mother had dropped you in front while her and your father went to park the car. Never before in your life has a house made you feel this small. This alone. You pull your shawl, a sheer black number, around your shoulders and shrink slightly.

A hand lands on your shoulder and you jump, spinning around quickly only to be greeted with Lily, whose face is twisted from the laughter pouring out of her. She clutches her stomach from the force, wrinkling the red satin dress she’s wearing. You take a moment to admire how much it suits her. It’s a little bold for your tastes but she wears it like no one else could. Her hair is twisted on the top of her head, a few curls falling to frame her face. She looks amazing, not that you had any doubts.

You lightly smack her shoulder, finally letting a few giggles loose, “you scared me you idiot!” You turn your eyes back to the mansion, swallowing the lump of nerves growing in your throat, “take a look at this place, will you. It’s huge! Have you ever seen a house this big? What could someone possibly need a house this big for?”

“Yeah it’s something alright,” her eyes drag down the hulking facade before meeting yours once more, a naughty smirk now on her red lips, “and I’m sure the inside is even nicer! Let’s go!”

She grabs your hand, all but dragging you over the threshold. Light pours over you, catching the sequins on your dress and making it sparkle delicately, something that would usually make you squeal however your attention is currently elsewhere. That elsewhere is the dual grand staircase in the center of the room. It’s encased in pillars, the feature leaking in from the exterior of the mansion. It’s bronze railings are strung up with thousands of twinkling lights. The staircase is easily the focal point of the foyer.

But not because of the lights.

Lily digs her nails into your hand, pulling you to a screeching halt, “are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?”

Her eyes are glued to the same place that yours are, dragging up and down the staircase with little care to whoever might be watching her little show. You choose a less outright form of gawking, opting to look all around the room while still making little glances at your main focus.

“Yeah, Lil, I think I am,” you gulp, your eyes training on three sinfully gorgeous men, “mama said they were handsome but this,” you let the end of your sentence drop, not having nearly the vocabulary to explain the Mikaelsons.

In total, there are five people on the staircase. Four men and a woman. Each one is gorgeous in their own right. You mull over the woman first. If you thought that you looked nice before you left, that’s pretty much gone now. She’s absolutely stunning. Her blonde hair lays in a sheet over her shoulders, winding almost to her base of her spine. She wears an emerald gown, one fitted to every dip and curve of her body like it was spun by Aphrodite herself. You have to look away, she’s the kind of pretty that makes you feel like you’re not worthy of seeing it.

Your eyes travel to the man next to her and your mouth goes dry. He’s tall. That’s the first thing you notice. If you were next to him he would easily tower over you. Not just because of his height, though. You shift your focus to his arms and the way the sleeves of his tux hug them tightly. You have no doubts this man could rip you in two if he wanted to. He stands at ease, his eyes wandering the faces of those closest to him as he lifts a hand to smooth over his brown hair. At least he doesn’t look to be in the killing mood.

Behind him is a man with blonde hair. Even from across the room it looks softer than silk and your palms itch to run through it. He leans against the railing, a glass of champagne loose in his fingers. His eyes are on the others but he has the appearance of a man who is a thousand miles away. Your heart hurts at the thought but you brush past it. You don’t know him and you’re most likely wrong. Still you give him another brush over, wishing slightly that he would crack even a hint of a smile.

You shake your head, moving to the man at the top of the stairs. He’s alive with something fiery, speaking to the others with animated hands and laughing hard. You can’t hear him over the crowd around you but, gods, you wish you could. It’s probably nothing important but, by the looks of him, he could make anything sound special. He throws his head back laughing, his brown hair flopping wildly. You can’t look at him for long either but not for the same reason you couldn’t look at the woman. No, you can’t look at him because you’re afraid if you look any longer than you’ll be sucked in forever.

When you look at the last man you shiver. It’s not the kind of shiver that makes you feel exhilarated though, it’s the opposite. Your blood runs cold when you look at him and, when his eyes meet yours, you look away instantly. You can feel his eyes burning into your back for a few moments after and you hate it. Unlike the rest of them, this man makes you feel ice cold.

You tug on your best friend’s hand, desperate to get away from the man, “come on, Lil, let’s go find the champagne.”

Lily’s eyes light up at the thought, instantly taking the lead on this new expedition, “girl you read my mind!”

You take one last glance towards the staircase as she pulls you into another room, momentarily catching three pairs of brown eyes before scampering around the corner. Your cheeks are hot when you’re finally out of their vicinity. You hadn’t realized how heavy the air around them had been. Now that you can’t see them your bones feel marginally lighter. Something nags at you though, a loss of sorts. You rub a hand over your chest, massaging the ache away.

Lily pushes a cool glass into your hand, lifting her own to her lips. You follow suit, breathing in the sugary scent before letting the sweet bubbles flow down your throat. They pop, soothing your flaming chest.

“Shit,” Lily breathes, “everything about this screams money. The invitations, the house, this damn champagne. What’s next? A pool of synchronised swimmers?” Her eyes wander the room, her fingers tight around the glass, “I’m not used to this Great Gatsby level of wealth. It’s making my head spin a little. This is my parent’s scene, not mine.”

You nod lightly, her words everything you’ve been dying to say. It’s magnificent but you’ve never felt more out of place. Not even the founders day balls are like this. At least Mrs. Lockwood has the good sense to cater to the modesty of the town. Before you can answer, however, a voice joins your conversation.

“My apologies, my brothers like to go overboard when throwing parties. It’s not quite my taste either, a little too stuffy if you ask me.”

You spin around to the sight of the woman from the stairs and your heart pounds hard in your chest. She’s even more beautiful up close, like a Van Gogh masterpiece. Her voice is accented and smooth, impossibly so. You feel like a peasant in her presence but her smile is light and it helps to soothe your nerves a touch. When you look at Lily, though, her cheeks are beet red and her eyes are wide.

“Oh my, I am so sorry! I didn’t think anyone would hear me besides,” she nudges you lightly, the smile she’s plastered on her face sheepish, “this one here. It really is gorgeous. Perhaps university has lowered my standards.”

You watch Lily fumble her words and you don’t blame her. This girl seems like she was made to insite insecurity and you mean that in the very best of ways. Despite her slight enthusiasm, though, Lily’s eyes flow over the woman slowly. You can tell she’s interested. By the way her stares are being reciprocated, you would say she isn’t the only one. You smile at that.

The woman laughs, her eyes filled with mirth, “your standards aren’t low, this party is just a nightmare. I’m Rebekah, one of the many Mikaelsons you will surely encounter tonight,” she looks over her shoulder, her eyebrows furrowing slightly, “and it looks as though you’re going to get the immersive experience.”

You, too, look over her shoulder and your heart stops. The three men from the staircase, the ones who didn’t make your blood run cold, walk towards you slowly, stopping here and there to welcome guests. The tall one catches your eye and you freeze, a deer caught in the headlights. He says something to the other men and they join in looking at you. You swallow hard, your insides doing somersaults at the sight of them. A deer caught in three headlights, it would seem.

You look back at Rebekah, your eyes blown wide from the panic rising in your chest. She isn’t looking at you, her eyes still locked on your best friend. They’re in the middle of a conversation that you haven't been paying attention to. You tune back in just in time to hear Lily ask about the gardens behind the house. You scrunch your nose. What gardens?

“Yes, they’re marvelous,” Rebekah leans towards Lily, a glint in her eyes, “and much less crowded. I could show you around them if you’d like?”

Oh no. No no no. You can see the gears turning in your best friend’s head and the smile that blossoms on her face. You know what’s about to happen and for a moment time stands still. She’s really going to do it, isn’t she?

She looks over at you, tossing you and apologetic squint before meeting Rebekah’s wondering eyes, “I would love that! Lead the way.”

You watch in slow motion as your best friend wanders away, once more looking over her shoulder to mouth a quick I’m sorry. You roll your eyes at her, murmuring a silent you owe me. You close your eyes briefly, tipping the remainder of your champagne into your mouth. You set your glass down as the alcohol swirls in your stomach, adding a kind of weightlessness to your movements. You embrace it, your eyes scanning the ornate walls. What the hell are you going to do now?

A breeze swirls around you, a myriad of spices hitting your nose just as a honeyed voice breaks your daze, “this house was built in the seventeenth century. As a matter of fact, those are the same walls. I do apologize, we’re a little slow when it comes to modernization. I know it can be a lot to take in, if you need another moment to confront them I do understand.”

You turn quickly, your cheeks hot to the touch, and you find yourself inches away from one of the men from the staircase. You bite your cheek, you really need to figure out their names. Up close you see that you were right about him, he does indeed tower over you. You have to bend your neck significantly to make comfortable eye contact. You almost wish you hadn't, though, his dark eyes flooding your chest with butterflies.

“I think I’ve had my fill of the walls but thank you for your consideration,” you pull your wrap tighter around you, clutching it like it's the source of magic that is helping you keep your composure, “and for the history lesson. This house is beautiful.”

He smiles widely, an action so doused in beauty that your head spins, “thank you, it was my father’s. I am Elijah, I don’t believe we’ve met before,” his eyes flit across your face and you can feel the blush begin to creep down your chest, “something which I’m beginning to understand is a terrible misfortune on my part.”

Your heart pounds painfully, your throat dry. This man clearly has a deep grasp on words and knows exactly how to use them. You wonder for a moment to what extent. What would he sound like in a more intimate setting? What words would he use when no one else could hear him?

Your eyes widen, your chest burning at the thought, “I’m y/n. Perhaps you’ve met my mother, Mary-Anne?” you glance around, trying and failing to locate your mother, “She’s around here somewhere, she has a hand in most of the happenings around town so it wouldn’t surprise me if you do know her.”

Elijah’s carmel eyes fill with recognition, “ah, yes, I believe I’ve seen her in town. Never you, though.”

Though he doesn’t ask, the question is clear in his tone.

“I attend university out of town,” you clutch your chest lightly, your fingers curling around the top of your dress, “I’m actually only home for the weekend. My mother was adamant I attend this evening.”

Elijah tilts his head, his eyes flitting quickly to where your fingers slip down your dress. When he looks back at you his eyes are a touch darker than before. Your heart pounds harder as well and you bite your lip slightly, thankful your mother didn’t make you wear lipstick.

“I see. I suppose that means we must give you a night to remember,” his eyes linger on your mouth for a moment and the heat that was swirling in your chest sinks lower.

“Indeed we shall, brother,” a voice from your left pulls your attention.

You’re greeted with the blonde from earlier, the one who looked like he was on another planet. Standing in front of you now he looks much more aware. His eyes, a touch lighter than Elijah’s, skim down your dress, lingering on the high slit on your hip before meeting yours again. You suck in a breath but there is no oxygen to be found.

“I do hope my brother is giving you a proper welcome,” his eyes flash, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips, “I wouldn’t want you leaving here tonight without a proper taste of the Mikaelson charm.”

The way he says the word taste, the way it rolls of his tongue, is positively sinful. It hits you straight in the stomach, spreading like poison through your already airy body. It anchors you to the ground, to him. You glance at Elijah who’s already watching you like a hawk. You feel naked under his gaze but, for some reason, it isn’t a wholly unwelcome feeling. You actually kind of like it.

You smile lightly at him before turning back to his brother, “I think he’s doing a marvelous job. His introduction skills, however, need a little bit of a touch up.” You giggle at the glimpse of his furrowed eyebrows from the corner of your eye, “Too much talking about walls for my liking.”

“Ah, there you two are,” a third voice joins your arsenal of men, standing on your right and piercing you with a voice accented enough to make the gods fall to their knees, “hogging all the pretty girls tonight, are we Klaus?”

You meet the eyes of the third man, the one who made laughter look like a gift, and your heart sings. He grins at you, his eyes, much like his brothers’, a warm brown. Having all three of them this close to you is more intense than you could have imagined. They make the room feel smaller. Intimate. You’re not sure if you want to run away screaming or move closer to them. They’re magnetic, you’re just not sure if being pulled in or pushed away.

He takes your hand, an action that sends your heart into overdrive. His eyes light up, as if he can hear every rapid beat of your pulse. You scold yourself inwardly. Don’t be stupid, y/n, that would be impossible.

“I’m Kol,” he brings your hand to his lips, laying a kiss that renders your knees weak against your knuckles, “it’s a pleasure.”

Your heart thunders at the feeling of his lips against your skin. You feel like a schoolgirl, dizzy from the slightest touch from your playground crush. His lips are warm and soft. Is this how princesses feel? God, you need another drink.

“So,” Klaus steps towards you, his eyes swirling with something barely contained, “what’s this I heard about us giving you a night to remember?”

Your heart stops on the spot and you almost choke, not missing any of the implications behind his tone, “I have to head back to school tomorrow is all,” you breathe, trying to play off some of the heat swirling under the surface of your skin, “please, don’t let me keep you from the rest of your guests. I’m sure there are quite a few more important people than me here tonight.”

Elijah chuckles, the sound piling on top of the many other ones you’re already holding tight to, “the guest list is merely a formality, it would really be my pleasure to show you around.”

He holds his hand out to you, his eyes warm but challenging. You swallow thickly, a string of indecipherable emotions rushing through your chest, circling your lungs. You know it’s just a gesture so why does it feel like something more? Why does the thought of taking his hand feel like stepping into the rest of your life? You take a breath, squaring your shoulders and slipping your hand into his. Bring it on, destiny.

“Wait just a moment brother,” Kol’s fingers slip around your wrist, dragging down your palm until your fingers are locked together, “stealing her away from me so soon? I’m not sure I can let you do that.”

Elijah and Kol stare at each other, something wild brewing in their increasingly dark eyes. You tense, feeling like the rope in a game of tug of war. This doesn’t feel like a game, though, this feels real. You’re not a rope to be fought over, you get to decide what and who you want. Even if that’s all of them.

You squeeze both of their hands, drawing their attention back to you, “I’m sure this house is big enough for us to all comfortably go for a tour.”

Elijah’s eyes widen, dragging over you once more as if seeing you properly for the first time all night. He, like his brothers, lingers on the most delicate parts of you for just a few moments longer than he should. It’s a hole in his armor, a hint past the gentleman front. You want to leap at it and pull until all that’s left is the darkness swirling beneath his surface.

You glance at Kol who meets your eyes head on, a toothy grin already on his face, “marvelous, darling. What a great idea.”

He begins pulling you, and by default Elijah, out of the room but you halt, feeling a tad off. You look behind you at Klaus and sigh, your heart heavy. He stands tall but you catch his eyes and the way they glance at your hands, both of which are still being occupied. He squeezes his hands into fists, shoving them in his pockets. You tilt your head, pouting slightly at him.

“Mr. Mikaelson, are you coming? Time is of the essence,” you nod your head toward the foyer, a coy smile on your lips, “we can’t can’t afford to waste any now.”

His face lights up instantly, walking towards you with flames dancing behind his eyes, “time isn’t real, love. Tonight we have as much of it as we want. As much of it as you want.”

You swallow hard. You want it all.

Kol pulls you towards him, twirling you slowly, making your dress spin around your legs like a ribbon, “where to first, darling? What do you want to see?”

Your hands land on his chest, your cheeks flushed and legs wobbly from the spinning. His other hand goes around your waist, his fingers squeezing gently, his thumb pressing into your side in a way that makes you want to draw his body closer to your own. Your thoughts from before ring through your head. He makes everything sound special. More than that; he makes everything feel special.

“Everything,” you can’t tear your eyes away from his, you don’t want to, “show me everything please.”

He leans down, his forehead inches from your own. You can feel the heat rolling off his body even through his tux. It’s luxurious and mingles with the last dregs of the champagne. When combined with his scent, a nutty blend of cloves and cinnamon, you feel lightheaded.

“Very well, darling,” his eyes flit to your lips, “everything it is.”

An arm snakes around your waist, pulling you away from whatever mischief is brewing beneath Kol’s honey eyes. He tilts his head at the person who grabbed you, his aura turning from playful to down right frosty.

You turn away, breaking the hold of one Tyler Lockwood. Your ex. You squint your eyes. If you were a cat, your hackles would be raised. You wouldn’t claw his eyes out but you would be damn close. Memories from your senior year pour through your mind, twisting your gut painfully. You blink them away. Contrary to Klaus, you don’t have time for this.

“Tyler,” your voice courteous but cold, “what is it?”

He doesn’t catch your tone or, if he does, he doesn’t act like it. He reaches towards you again, no doubt to pull you into a hug, but you back away. Unlike with Kol, you don’t want to touch him. You definitely don't want him touching you. That part of your life is over.

“Y/n,” his voice is light, happy, “I didn’t know you were back! Mom didn’t say anything. How have you been?”

The atmosphere around you thickens. You don’t have to look at the Mikaelsons to see that their shoulders are tense. You feel them take a step closer to you, surrounding you with some much needed warmth.

You clench your jaw, forcing a smile on your face, “yes, well, I didn’t know if I was going to be home this weekend or not. University and all, I’m sure you understand. I’m fine, thank you.”

He nods enthusiastically and you grind your teeth slightly, wishing the floor would just swallow you whole. You dart your eyes to the side, briefly skimming Klaus as he rolls his eyes. Lily would be proud. Kol and Elijah don’t look amused either. You’re not sure how you know but you have to get them away from Tyler as fast as possible. The air drops another few degrees and you shiver.

“Oh well, no harm done!” Tyler steps closer to you, “say, how long are you in town? We should grab a bite at the grill.”

You drop your fake smile, your heart stinging slightly, “sorry, Lily and I are heading back tomorrow morning.”

You feel the boys once again tense, as if they don’t like the information you just shared. You don’t have time to think too hard about it though before Tyler closes even more space between you, grabbing your hand. You flinch back, hitting something hard and warm. The smell of pine trees, a whole forest of them, swirls around you as a hand circles your waist.

Tyler scrunches his brows, his smile slightly faltering, “tonight, then? I would really love a chance to talk. Catch up a little.”

You almost laugh. He just isn’t giving up. He can never make it easy for you, can he? The hand on your waist squeezes and you look over your shoulder, your heart stuttering. Elijah is staring at Tyler, something swirling under his irises. Whatever it is looks untamed. Not in the good way, like how he was looking at you earlier. No, whatever he’s feeling right now is dangerous. Time to go.

“I really can’t, my night has been spoken for. Maybe next time, Tyler,” you turn to Elijah, “Elijah, did you say that you saw my mother looking for me? Would you mind showing me to her?”

Elijah’s eyes sparkle, clearly taking your hint, “indeed, she was right this way.”

He pushes you gently, blocking you from Tyler as he leads you out of the room. You can hear Tyler call out to you but you keep walking. Two other sets of footsteps join you, Kol grabbing your hand and twining your fingers together once more. When you break into the foyer you let the anxiety that had been building drain. That was more exhausting than you would like to admit.

Elijah leads the four of you silently to a room off to the side of the foyer. He pushes the large mahogany door open, ushering you in before shutting it again. The smell of ink and old pages hits your nose and your mouth drops open at the sight. You’re in the biggest library you’ve ever seen. It’s like something out of The Beauty and The Beast, the ceilings high and the walls lined from top to bottom with shelves upon shelves of books. You break away from the boys, your fingers itching to touch what is no doubt an impressive collection of history.

You hear a chuckle behind you but you don’t turn, your fingers skimming an older looking manuscript. Upon closer inspection the handwritten inscription on the cover reads Vonya i mir. Your heart stops and you quickly pull it from the shelf throwing all common courtesy out the window. This can’t be what you think it is. You flip it over in your hands, taking care not to crack the spine too much. Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy.

You whip your head up, meeting three curious glances with wide eyes, “this is War and Peace! Like, the original manuscript. This is,” your heart pounds, your eyes glued to the yellowed pages in your hands, “this is history. I can’t believe I’m holding this.” Your heart stops, “Oh my, I should not be holding this! This belongs in a museum! What am I even doing, holding it like it’s nothing.”

You set it carefully on a desk behind you, looking apologetically back at them. Your cheeks heat rapidly. It’s very much not like you to go into a stranger’s home and start groping their collectables. You pull your lip between your teeth, lowering your head.

A hand gently grabs your chin, “you didn’t mention you’re a classic literature major, love.”

A small smile toys on Klaus’ lips, his thumb skimming over your jaw. Your heart stutters when he says love, warmth spreading through your chest. You reluctantly move your head from his hand, turning to motion at the manuscript.

“That’s because I’m not. I am a history major, with a focus on Russian culture. I’ve read War and Peace more times than I care to admit,” you smile lightly at the book, thinking about the hours you’ve spent pouring over it, “never in Russian, though.”

You glance back at Klaus, your hand flying once more to your bodice. He studies you carefully, his head tilted to the side.

“And what do you think of it? Do you prefer the war or the peace?” He steps towards you, his words filling the almost nonexistent gap between your body and his.

Your breath catches. He’s close enough to touch and, gods, do you ever want to just reach out and pull him against you. First Elijah, then Kol, now him. You’re really gunning to end that dry spell in one night and three ways aren’t you? Heat creeps up your neck, your ears flaming at the thought.

“You can’t have one without the other,” you glance over his shoulder at Elijah and Kol, both of whom are hanging on to your every word, “war is inevitable but peace,” you look back at Klaus, “peace is fundamental.”

Klaus brushes a strand of hair from your cheekbone, sending shivers racing up your spine, “fundamental to what, love?”

His voice is low, his accent wearing down any reservations that you had at the beginning of the night. Your mother’s voice rings through your ears. Give me some grandbabies. She had clearly been joking but your body clearly has no concept of satire, heat pooling between your legs at the thought of making those babies. You close your eyes, sucking in a deep breath. It does nothing to quench the heat. You’re in the thick of it now and there is no escaping the white hot fire growing inside of you.

You sink your head into his hand, “happiness.”

An arm hooks around your waist, spinning you into a pair of spiced arms. Kol. You crack your eyes open and, sure enough, you’re correct. You shouldn’t have been able to guess that already. You’ve known them for no longer than an hour. This is insane. He lowers his face towards yours and your heart slams against your ribcage, his lips inches from yours. You swallow hard, your hands finding the lapels of his jacket. Instead of kissing you, however, he rubs his nose against yours. Oh. That feels nice.

“What makes you happy, darling?”

You laugh softly, his question catching you off guard, “I’m not sure, to be honest. I haven’t had many opportunities to find out.”

“Well then, If you could do one thing that you think would make you happy what would you do?” Kol lifts a hand to your face, his thumb, like his brother’s, skimming your jaw.

You don’t have to think about it, the answer is on your tongue as soon as he asks the question, “I would leave this town,” you glance down, the truth of your statement making you feel all too guilty, “and I’m not sure that I would ever come back.”

His thumb stills and you hold your breath. Perhaps you should have answered with something a little less full on. You haven’t even told Lily that you want to leave and never look back so you honestly have no idea why you just divulged one of your greatest kept secrets to three men you just met. Maybe because it doesn’t matter. Who are they going to tell, right? But no, that doesn’t feel right. You didn’t just tell them because. You had a reason, you just can’t put a name to it.

“I see,” he draws his thumb over your lips, an action that both surprises you and steals the air from your lungs, “and where would you go?”

Again, your answer is effortless, “everywhere, Kol. I would go everywhere.”

Kol smiles, his eyes lighting up with his grin. Your heart skyrockets, fireworks shooting through your chest from the slightest tilt of his perfectly red lips. They look soft; perfectly kissable. If only you had half of his self-assurance. What you wouldn’t give to run the tips of your fingers over his lips.

His hands draw back down your sides, “what was going on back there? You didn’t seem pleased to be speaking to that,” Kol clicks his tongue distastefully, his accent thickening, “boy. Is he the reason you want to leave?”

You pull back slightly, your hands tightening on his coat. How are you even supposed to answer that? The story is a long one and there are very few enjoyable moments to lighten it. Tyler is not the reason you want to leave but you surely wouldn’t be doing yourself any favors by staying for him either. He’s part of a long past, one you’re not going to tell them about. Not today, anyway.

“It’s a long story,” you gently remove yourself from his hold, “one that I assure you none of you would care to hear. But to answer your question, no. Tyler has nothing to do with me wanting to leave. That’s entirely my own, for better or worse.”

He nods, the understanding clear in his honeyed eyes, “in that case, darling, tell me something else.” He pulls you back to his chest, “Do you like the stars?”

* * * * * * * * *

They left the party. Their party. They just up and left the party that they were hosting. You’re shocked. You were shocked when they dragged you out of the mansion and you’re still shocked now, laying on a blanket a few miles away with your mouth hanging open. You hadn’t thought anything of it when Kol asked you about the stars. You thought he was continuing with his little game of twenty one questions. You didn’t think he was serious! Who the hell just leaves the party they’re hosting?

Elijah shuffles his hands through your hair, pulling pins from it left and right and letting the hardwork your mother put into it fall. Yes, indeed you’re laying across the lap of one of the most eligible bachelors you have ever come in contact with, your face pressed against his warm thigh. Your fingers are wrapped around a bottle of the sweet champagne from earlier.

“You know,” you murmur quietly, your eyes locked on the spray of stars above your head, “when you host a party, it’s usually expected that you attend. Running away is frowned upon.”

He laughs and you can feel it through your entire body. It awakens the butterflies sleeping in your chest, sending them fluttering to your guts where the beating of their tiny wings create an inferno so large it sets you on fire from the inside out. You always wondered what it would feel like to be burned alive. You would have never guessed that it would make your toes curl.

“I thought that was what you wanted,” he drags his fingers through your scalp, the final blow to your once styled hair, “to run away. Here’s a start.”

You rub your cheek against his thigh, your face heating when he tenses at your action, “we’re pretty terrible at this running away thing then,” you hum, pulling yourself to your knees, “we only made it five miles. If I focus I think I can still hear the music. We’re lousy escape artists.”

A breeze blows over your shoulders and you shiver, your thin shawl doing nothing to veil you from the night. You’re just thankful it’s still warm enough to be outside at this time of night. Soon the nights will be getting colder and you won’t be able to do this. It’s one of the many reasons you long to move away. A pair of hands draws over your shoulders and you shiver again, this time from something entirely unrelated to the elements. You smile lightly. Maybe not. The Mikealson’s have more than proven that they are a force of nature.

Klaus’ voice is like ocean waves in your ear, cresting your skin with every low syllable, “well this is just the beginning, love. How far we go is up to you.”

He’s joking, of course. He has to be joking, right? You turn to look at him, seeking out his eyes in the darkness. They burn into yours, no hint of humor anywhere on his face. His gaze pierces through the night and your breath catches, your heart pounding at all the possibilities of what he meant. You bring the bottle to your lips, using the cool liquid to stall while you gather your feelings.

Kol takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth, “So, darling,” he kisses one of your knuckles, his lips like heavenly fire, “how far are we going?” Another knuckle, another kiss, “what is it you want?” He nips lightly at your fingertips and you gasp, the feeling akin to tiny zaps of lightning against your skin, “where do you want to go?”

Your head is spinning, the champagne settling once more over your bones, “I wouldn’t know where to start. There are too many places,” you swallow hard, “too many things.”

Klaus’ fingers toy at the straps of your dress, skimming down your arms with them in tow, “the first place that comes to mind, love. What is it?”

Elijah pulls you towards him, his hand sliding up the slit on your thigh and curling around your hip. His fingers whisper over your bare skin and you tighten your hand on the bottle. Not out of fear, though. No, you use the bottle to keep your hands busy. If your hands were empty you can’t be sure where exactly they would be. On who they would be.

Elijah squeezes your hip and you gasp again, this time louder, “New Orleans,” it’s the first place that comes to your mind, “I want to go to New Orleans.”

Time stills when you finally answer the question. You can hear the wind rustle through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. Three smells, each of their own element, wrap around you. Klaus’, like water, pouring over your back. Kol’s, like fire, burning up your arm. Elijah’s, like earth, sliding down your hips. You, the air, curl around each of them, pulling them close with your very essence.

And then, with a far off howl, time unfreezes and Klaus rips the straps down your arms, “New Orleans, hmm,” He sweeps your hair back, his nose skimming down the side of your neck, “a woman after my own heart. When shall we go?”

You laugh, the sound breaking through the almost reverent atmosphere, “we can’t just leave, Klaus. You have to plan things. I can’t just drop everything and run to New Orleans.”

Kol pulls your arm through the strap, furthering the tantalizingly slow process of peeling the dress from your body, “but you want to, darling. Am I right?”

His lips find the crook of your elbow and you almost moan, “of course you are but it’s not practical.”

Elijah tugs at your hips again, pulling you onto his lap. Kol and Klaus move with you, clinging to you like shadows. Kol’s hair tickles your arm, the soft strands brushing against you as his blazes a trail of open mouthed kisses up your arm. Klaus nips the back of your neck, his fingers wrapped in your hair and pulling lightly. It should feel wrong, you know it should, but by god how could something this ethereal possibly be wrong. Your body feels like it’s made out air and for the first time you’re free to breeze wherever you choose.

“Neither are we. It’s simple,” Elijah leans down, grabbing your jaw and steering you to meet his eyes, “would you like to go, y/n?”

Your heart stops when it hits you that they’re dead serious, “to New Orleans?”

It’s dark but you can still make out the smile on his face. It says it all, his words only reaffirming what your brain has been screaming at you.

“Not just New Orleans, darling, everywhere,” Elijah murmurs, his lips just in front of yours, his peppermint breath fanning your face delicately, “do you want to go everywhere?”

Just like that, your heart restarts, a rush of adrenaline spreading over your bones. Very rarely in life are you presented with the opportunity to go everywhere. You can’t even fathom what everywhere means. Surely there isn’t time to go everywhere, right? You suck in a breath, one that makes it feel like before this moment you were never truly breathing at all. Who cares if there isn’t enough time, you think to yourself.

You slide your arms around Elijah’s neck fast, nodding your head furiously in lieu of all the words that refuse to form a coherent sentence. You tangle your fingers in his hair, the strands like silk against your skin. You don’t take your time to admire it, though, you just yank his mouth to yours, smashing your lips against his and hoping it says everything that you can’t.

His hands squeeze your hips again and this time you don’t hold back, moaning into his mouth with the force of the tropical storm building under your skin. Your dress feels much too tight all of a sudden, the sequined material biting into your flesh. You shuffle, pulling your other arm from the strap before wrapping it back around Elijah’s shoulder, your fingers digging into his back through his tux jacket. That needs to go too. Now.

“Darling,” Kol’s husky voice whispers against your skin, his face buried in the other side of your neck, “as beautiful as you look right now I’m about half a second away from ripping this dress off your body.”

His words barely register but you catch the important parts, peeling your lips from Elijah’s just far enough to utter, “please don’t rip it, it’s the prettiest thing I own.”

His hands, which are curled around the back of your bodice, stall momentarily, “well that won’t do, now will it?” He muses, his mouth skimming your shoulder with each word, “New Orleans is fine, you won’t need many clothes at all I’m sure. But Paris will demand more of us, darling. We’ll have to fix this.”

Your heart shudders, along with your body. Paris. Surely now he’s joking.

He opts instead to use the zipper rather than tearing it apart, his knuckles softly skimming your bare back as it becomes exposed to him. Inch by inch, cool air wraps around your skin. When he gets to halfway, his mouth begins following his hands. He nips at the bumps of your spine, biting down harder when he gets to the base. Your hands, which are still on Elijah’s shoulder, tighten as flames roll through your body.

Klaus’ hands slip around you, tugging this time at the front of your bodice and pulling it down to reveal your bare chest. He pushes the fabric down your stomach, trailing his fingertips over your ribs as you arch into his chest, a string of incoherent praises falling from your lips. You’re pretty sure you murmur his name somewhere in there though, because his chest rumbles against your back and, before you know it, he pulls you up to your feet.

“Klaus, what are you-” your words are cut short from the night, swallowed instead by lips which taste too much like oranges and rum for you to even consider trying to repeat yourself .

His tongue slips into your mouth, his hands flying into your hair, pushing it away from your face and using it to tilt your head to an angle that makes you see stars. The cold air sweeps over your breasts and you shiver again. It doesn’t last long before a pair of hands are sliding up your exposed sternum and over your chest, cupping your breasts. Kol’s cinnamon musk furls in your lungs as he pulls you into his now bare chest. His skin is hot against yours but you wouldn’t expect anything less from the flame made man.

Klaus detaches from your lips, pressing them once more against your swollen mouth before moving down your neck. He pulls your skin into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the dip in your throat. He courses a river down your front with his mouth, stopping to leave little love bites all over your collarbones and shoulders before heading south. He falls to his knees, shrugging his jacket off before pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts.

You moan, loudly, and thread your fingers through his hair, tugging him harder against you, “god, you’re too good at that,” you roll your head against Kol’s shoulder as Klaus lips flow over your skin, finding your nipple between Kol’s fingers, “we should not be doing this.”

Another pair of hands, the last pair, pulls your face to a pair of lips, the last pair of lips, “Is that what you think, darling? Do you want us to stop?”

Elijah’s lips skim over yours as he speaks, sparks igniting with each touch. You don’t have to think about his question.

“No,” you press your mouth against his assertively, “please don’t stop. Never stop.”

With that Klaus pushes the rest of your dress off your body and, well, the rest of the details of that night remain between you, Kol, Klaus, Elijah, and the stars.

* * * * * * * * *

You lean your head against the cool leather of the seat, your eyes closed as the wind whips your hair behind you. You’ve never ridden in a convertible before but, much to the trend of Mikaelson fashion, it’s luxurious. Elijah slings his arm around your shoulders and you smile, cracking your eye open to glance at him. His hand is on the wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead of him. He looks peaceful. Happy. He looks over at you, tossing you a wink before turning back to the road. Butterflies flutter through your chest and you welcome them with open arms.

You glance in the rearview mirror, your grin growing when you see two sleeping men. Kol is leaning back, his mouth half open as soft snores fall from his mouth. You giggle quietly. Last night must have exhausted him. He wears his slacks still but now, instead of his jacket, he wears a wine colored hoodie. His hair is mussed and you swallow thickly, thinking back to how it felt between your hands.

You move to Klaus, shaking your head slightly to defuse your slowly heating skin. He, too, no longer wears his jacket but, unlike Kol, he only has a t-shirt on. His arms are folded under his head as he leans against the seat. His body is relaxed, his legs spread in front of him. You yawn looking at him, fighting the urge to crawl over your own seat and into his lap.

“Are you tired, love?” Elijah’s voice mixes with the wind, floating over you like music.

You meet his glance for a moment, smiling sheepishly, “yes but it’s nothing.”

“You should try to sleep,” his voice is slightly concerned, his eyes slipping over your bruised skin before turning back to the highway, “we still have about seven hours before we’re even in Louisiana.”

You stifle another yawn, pulling the sunglasses on your head over your eyes as the sun breaks over the trees blurring past you, “not yet, Eli. I don’t want to miss anything. I’ll sleep when we get there.”

You hear your phone beep from the bag at your feet but you ignore it. That’s another thing that you’ll wait until the Louisiana state line for. Instead you lift the book on your lap, your fingers skimming delicately over the words on the cover. Vonya i mir. Your heart warms as you open it to the first page, settling into the leather seat. Elijah looks over at you and chuckles, the sound even more musical than last night. This is going to be the easiest seven hours of your life.

625 notes · View notes

rumblelibrary · 3 years

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Hello, it's me again, your friendly neighborhood... Hungarian?!...👀❤️

Can I request a Sebastian Zöllner fic, where he is a coworker of Reader, and there's an obvious sexual tension, attraction in the office, they sit opposite each other, legs touching sometimes, hands touching... Idunno... Things like this 👀🔥 but nothing happened... Yet...🔥🔥

Never an Enemy [Sebastian Zöllner x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 5k

Warnings: A bad mouthed journalist with strong opinions about art and performance that might offend

Author’s note: Did I let this idea simmer in me for ages? Yes. Did I ever stopped thinking about it? NO.

You hummed softly while the music blasted in your headphones as you made your way up the stairs to the headquarters of the Art Tribune, the art focused magazine you worked for since over a year.

You liked the job even if to deal with artists was hard and the pay check could really deserve an improvement, it was stimulating and surely kept you on the edge. That morning in particular you needed to revise some background stories and just loads of reading to do to work on a new article for an upcoming exhibition. Just the usual fact checking, but you just couldn’t do it at home the day before so you decided to come early and enjoy some peace and quiet at the office.

You arrived at the top of the stairs of the fourth floor with a groan, you told yourself you had to do the stairs because you spent 70% of your life sitting in front of a computer, kind of self care, but brutal. You groaned lightly going straight toward the little kitchen installed for the team when you noticed something in the empty shared room full of desks. It was actually a really nice place with big industrial style windows that let lots of light inside, a very smart environment to work in, with areas where you could relax, free Wifi and loads of facilities. Usually people were put in big desks together, facing each other, trying to push a sort of ‘community feeling’.

Inevitably most of the people created barricades with books, and pictures of their dogs or even empty coffee cups. Yes, all cute and artistic, but do not talk to me.

That’s what also the attitude of the man you shared your desk with on your first day. He whined like a child for twenty minutes, complained he was happy to work alone, followed the assistant of the editor around the office and created a barricade of catalogues between the two of you so thick that you wondered if it was also bulletproof, only to rest his elbows over it half an hour asking if you had the change for the vending machine. Yes, that random man was you colleague and friend, Sebastian Zöllner.

The same that you are witnessing now asleep on the desk, head resting on his crossed arms while a stand of saliva went down on his shirt, wild hair and shoes taken off.

He could be considered an attractive man if he wasn’t a bloody nightmare of a person. You actually worked a lot with him and enjoyed his presence most of the days, your characters folded nicely and you would bounce off his attitude. He was strong on biographies and annoying the shit out of others, so he was always nagging at someone, you included.

You smirked slowly tracing his hair with your fingers, he never looked so innocent and you were always surprised to learn how those messy hair were so soft. It wasn’t the first time you did that gesture, sometimes he did lean his head like this only to be touched like an annoying mewling cat that needs attentions. “Kaffee” He mumbled making you chuckle, such a an annoying brat and he didn’t even open his eyes.

You carried on walking to the little kitchen room to prepare some coffee for you and your desk partner. You shook your head aimlessly as you started wondering why the man is here at this hour and if it was really a good idea to wake him up. To have him awake means to be able to do little to zero.

You watched the coffee get ready, the comforting tune of your morning playlist getting you still on the good side of your mood as you poured the coffee in your mug.

Then you saw it, an arm sneaking in front of you and taking the mug from your hand, you jump scared in a second almost pouring the rest of the coffee on the whole kitchen counter only to encounter Sebastian sleepy figure behind you bringing the mug close to his nose and inhaling deeply the aroma before having a gulp, you stared at him as his jaw clenched, his eyes got a bit teary. “Fucking hot” he whined making you chuckle, he deserved it for stealing it, luckily you were already doing some more for him so he stole your favourite mug but you had some coffee for you left.

You pulled off your headphones leaning them on your neck “No idea you’d be sleeping at the office, weren’t you off on some interview ?”

He shrugged “yeah, well me neither, but interviewing sculptors is always annoying as shit and those are always supersensitive” he said opening the freezer and pulling out some ice cubes from their box and putting them in the coffee mug. “Scheiße!” He cursed as the ice cube landing in the mug caused the coffee to spill onto his white shirt. You pressed your lips tight against each other not to laugh into his face, but he was already pissed off and it wasn’t even proper work time. You watched him lean over the sink trying to wash it off somehow without even bothering to take it off, just adding chaos on chaos.

“Y/N! Do not laugh and try to help me! Beside, the heck are you doing here at this hour?” You rolled your eyes at that comment, but you didn’t indulge him in that request.

“I was just looking for silence”

He nodded like he didn’t believe a single word of it, he was just an asshole and you had to deal with it like it or not. You almost hated how he was so freaking good at writing and that’s probably why many people indulged him. Even you knew his pieces on the magazine and didn’t expect to find out he was so…so Sebastian.

You let out a breathy chuckle taking your mug and making your way to your joined desk letting him wrestle his balance over the kitchen sink trying to get the stain wet and not shower himself in the meanwhile.

You sat down at your spot leaning the mug on side, hands covering your face trying to keep a clear mind letting out a big breath “okay, let’s do this”

You turned on the lamplight on your desk pulling out your laptop from your backpack. As the computer was ‘waking up’ you stared at Sebastian side of the desk compared to yours.

You had like a little citadel of books around you, but it was pretty neat, a little succulent gifted by your friend for your first day at work with the name tag ‘Danny’ on it sitting beside the lamp, lots of pencils and pens of different colours and notebooks to no end. If you had something in common with that beast of a man was that you both still relied on paper for sketching ideas and write down impressions in the moment, then onto the typing.

His side, however, was like a contemporary artwork in itself. Half empty cigarettes packages everywhere, the ashtray filled up, paper inside books and books filled with more papers. Notes everywhere, the damn king of neon yellow post-its, stains of coffee and crumbles of food invert corner, his red laptop showing off like a punch in the eye and his satchel bag always hang or thrown around.

You often wondered if the cleaning stuff just gave up on him. Your lucky guess was that he would probably throw a fit if anything was moved, so everyone just played the blind eye.

He was good at throwing fits.

You watched him come back sitting in front of you, half of his shirt soaked in the attempt to clean it up, he licked his lips picking one empty package of cigarettes looking in it and throwing it away until he found one with still something in it and he lighted his cigarette as he turned on his laptop. You sighed opening the window to let the fresh air not getting you intoxicated.

You went back to sip your coffee and stare at the screen quietly, every now and then your eyes falling onto the little cloud of smoke in front of you.

Sebastian was an attractive man, that was undeniable and you were sure that made him also a successful interviewer even though he was so random and chaotic, when he was silent and collected in thoughts he was indeed a sight to be seen. The dark hair framing his face like he was some cherub, his deep eyes staring into the void of his own words as he typed. He had a sort of decadent look on him.

Slowly the office begun to get filled, people coming here and there to tease Seb about coming early and he just waving his cigarette around asking for silence.

“Zöllner””

The chief editor shouted getting into his office without even turning around. Seb rolled his eyes looking at you as he pushed the cigarette in the ashtray waving his hand around to dissipate the smoke around him before standing up.

“I wonder how he managed to survive few days without shouting my name” he smirked.

You looked at him and mimicked his smirk.

What a chaotic man.

You had finished your reading by then and started to make a first draft of the article you were meant to work on.

“Y/N!!!” Sebastian voice rang through the office making you jump on your seat and he gestured at you to go with him with a big wave of his arm.

You looked at your screen with an helpless sigh, it seems like you will not write that article anytime soon, you’d better just have slept an hour more.

You stood up following that incessant wave as Seb put his hand on your back to get you in a bit quicker.

“Good morning”

You said as the chief editor nodded quietly “Look Y/N, it is a big favour I have to ask you” he begun frankly as you were beginning to get worried “you did your time with silly articles, so I thought it could be interesting to pair you up with Sebastian to go to tonight’s exhibition of Evita Schnecke”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at Sebastian shrug his shoulders.

“I need somebody to keep the horse with tight rains” Mr Megelbach continued gesturing with his pen at Sebastian and then at you “and you will dip your toes in those big time artists environment, but we really need to make sure Sebastian won’t hurt anyone’s sensibility, her interview has been obtained with lots of hard work”

“Yeah, we all know that hard work” Sebastian whispered in your ear earning a glare from Mr Megelbach who handed you a couple of catalogues from that artist and the invitation.

“So, put on hold your current article for today, make a plan with this train wreck and please make sure he doesn’t show up dressed like that”

“That was unneeded”

“All precautions are always needed with you, and now get out of my office the both of you”

You nodded moving out of the office, you were a bit anxious. Those artists were unpredictable just as Sebastian.

You made your way back to your desk with him as you sat down looking at the invitation. “So, it begins at 9 pm” you said almost understanding why Sebastian shouldn’t be allowed to go unescorted because the invitation on the dress code had: Wear something that talks about your soul. Only that could bring Sebastian to have an aneurism.

“I hate that bitch”

“Seb, that’s not a good start for an article”

He smirked as you said so but shrugged

“I mean it, this woman was born into privilege, she portrayed herself to be this underground rebel, but her simple black dress was a Chanel and her everyday boot Balenciaga, so I don’t trust her for a reason”

You smirked as you could agree with that and showed him the two catalogues the boss gave you

“Choose your fighter”

He groaned so loud he could have stabbed his toe and he leaned over his side of the desk picking one from your hand giving a light pinch on your side “teacher’s pet”. You chuckled softly as he always said that.

“Tell me if you read something that it is not about the performer’s way of life” he mumbled opening it in front of him.

You begun your reading and it was indeed the hell pit of a vey spoiled kid who was told to be the greatest since the first day of life, you picked your notebook and opened it taking notes on things that you could ask about.

Sebastian in the meanwhile lighted up another cigarette rolling it between his fingers mindlessly, his eyes looking above the paper at you every now and then among the little curses in German about the stupid things written there.

After some time it was becoming really a torture to read and you leaned your back on your chair stretching your legs forward for Seb to catch one of them among his.

You smirked as you often joked to him he was like some bear trap with those legs always catching yours.

He put his hand under the table bringing your leg up onto his thigh as you shifted even lower on your seat, his hand touching your ankle mindlessly as he had a talent for little massages like that. He did it the first time a while aback, a summer day where it was so hot and humid that you couldn’t feel your own legs.

So it became a little ritual among the two of you. You had many of those rituals, it was like an unspoken collection of attentions. Like you making the coffee in the morning because he was a grumpy ass. Or him always buying you some chewing gum or little treat when he went to buy cigarettes.

“I guess I am not the only one that needs a restyle”

He said bringing you away by the tenderness those little actions brought to you when he pushed his finger in your Vans shoe deepening a hole that you were trying to ignore from months.

“Seb, don’t do it, I wanted to make them last another season”

“Another season? These can’t last the end of the month, no doubt why your sex life is a train wreck”

You frowned at him taking your ankle off his hand to push on his chair making him roll back thanks to the little wheels underneath it, but he held on the desk and pulled himself closer again.

“What do you even know about it”

He looked at you, eyebrows raising up on his forehead

“Y/N, if I was your boyfriend I wouldn’t allow you to leave the bed that early in the morning to go to the office and that’s a fact”

“Oh, and how on heaven could you detain my passion for this job?” “Well, I can write you a list about it, you can consider it a to do list on your next date” His smirk was so wide, he enjoyed to tease you like that, the bastard, he knew to be an hottie and he always acted like half of the world was up to fuck with him.

“Oh please, do it, I want to see”

You teased him and he leaned in elbows on the table staring at you.

Oh the sexual tension with him was too much, you always went down on this hurricane of remarks, always him mentioning how you need more orgasms or implying it, or even implying how good he is at giving them.

“But be careful, because any act should be performed and not only lived”

You said quoting the artist you were reading about and he whined so hard like you really stomped your foot on his balls.

“Horrid witch”

“Me?” “No, that one”

He huffed and puffed picking another cigarette. Sometimes cigarettes just died on his fingers as he forgot to actually enjoy them more than waving them around.

The artist herself wasn’t remarkable, she used themes seen over and over before, she had a background as performer/dancer and she added painting to that, but more than talent she had an amazing marketing squad. You read her story and her commentaries about living like in a poem, which always sounds pretty easy with a big bank account.

You did all you could to stay neutral even if Seb was going down to massacre the woman, you two shared a bundle of two sandwiches (or better say, your brought a package of two and he was skipping his lunch so you just handed it to him) until you decided to get parted and go get ready at home.

That evening you were waiting for him in front of your apartment, when a taxi stopped in front of you and his figure appeared waving at you to come in on the back. His eyes widened in surprise “Well, well, well, look who got all fancy here”

He smirked as his eyes travelled on you shamelessly, the dress was actually one of those you brought ages ago and never used, also to wear heels felt like new, last time you went to a fancy event almost hard to recollect.

“Just move and let me in”

You said chuckling as you looked at him being so elegant when you noticed it, the price tag on his shirt.

“Seb, did you just buy this shirt?”

“Yes, and I am going to take it back tomorrow”

You looked at him puzzled

“What?” He groaned “I suck at ironing stuff”

You looked at him as a little laugh escaped your lips as he told you not to, but it was too late for that, you shifted closer to him anyway helping him to hide that price tag better behind his neck. Nevertheless the white shirt was really fancy and fitted him perfectly.

As you arrived in front of the gallery you sighed and made your way inside.

The place wasn’t crowded but few eyes turned as you got in.

“Would you like some champagne?” A waiter asked and Seb picked two flutes immediately downing one in a gulp on his own as the other was still in his other hand, he put the empty glass on the tray and then picked a third one handing it to you.

“Drink Y/N or you won’t make it to the end of the evening”

You smirked as he was always over dramatic, but indeed the evening seemed to be made for posh people to show off how cool they are.

You spotted the artist pretty quickly wearing a Valentino bright red dress, she surely had the dancer figure and gestures which gave her some kind of an edge.

"She is all yours"

You looked at Sebastian already half way through his drink, giving you that cheshire cat smirk.

"Are you sure?"

"You know I will insult her in a second if she names her dancing background one more time, I saw the videos, she looked like a three ready to collapse on the ground" he chuckled as you smirked shaking your head at his metaphor, but he is probably right, he is too much biased.

"I didn't notice the open back before" he said referring to your dress as he caressed over your skin with his fingertips making goosebumps raise up your spine.

"What? Am I too sexy for your own good?"

"Probably" he commented not losing a beat to answer you. You were taken aback from a moment, his eyes still down on his hand touching your back before raising up to find yours.

Then he took his hand away and pressed the cold champagne glass against it making you hiss "Now go, I'll check this bourgeois art"

You frowned but you just moved away from him. He always did it, he teased you and then made it a joke. You gave it back to him too, it was your relationship, that's how you balanced it.

"Good evening " you said to her with a smile holding your glass in your left hand before offering your right hand to her "I am Y/N, from the Art Tribune"

She went from neutral to smiling in a second

"Oh, I was waiting to meet you" she said leaning to kiss your cheek, surely she was a woman with charm, with a degree of boldness that made her charming and also, you noticed, extremely touchy-feely with everyone.

"We can define this a sort of retrospective of your previous works, I liked to see the evolution of it" you lied, because you just saw the catalogue.

But that was fair enough to have her go on about her, guess what? Past as a dancer, about how she needed to express herself, how she was her own muse and all the stuff you already read.

"What is next for you then?"

"I want to follow my dream, I have always wanted to found a space with my name where people could rent the rooms to perform dances and arts"

You stared at her. For real? Like there weren't other hundreds in the whole city?

"What will keep you apart from all the others that did this before you?"

"Nobody is me" she smirked like it was clear and obvious.

You asked few more questions, but you were sad to admit Sebastian was right. There wasn't art there, there was just profit, selling a name, a brand.

This saddened you because you met many artists that had less than a chance to make it but double the talent of Miss Valentino Dress.

"Y/N" Sebastian warm hand was on your back as you were downing the last bit of champagne "Come, come ,come quick" he said pushing you away as the artist clearly recognised him but he dismissed her with some insult or whatever he just mumbled.

"Seb, I was working, what the hell?"

"Elke is here"

You still didn't understand, you were puzzled as the reason of that anxiety was still unknown to you.

"Like your girlfriend Elke?"

"Put an ex in front of it" he said looking around frantically

"Oh, I am sorry, I didn't know"

"No, me neither, I thought she was just bashing around, she always did" his arm sneaked around your waist pulling you closer "please, act sexy for once"

You were one second from hitting his guts with your elbow when Elke herself approached.

"Oh, I didn't expect to see you here" she said waving her glass around

"Yeah, well I work for an important Art journal if you remember"

"How could I forget?" she groaned looking at you then as Sebastian's hand rested onto your hip. Really? Was he acting like you were his date?

"Hi, I am Y/N"

You said politely to her and she chuckled "Run when you can, this man is a leech and you don't even know it"

She mentioned it almost casually, but you could feel all the poison implied on your skin, Sebastian's hand giving you a soft squeeze, you had never seen him like this before. He looked like a dog that just got kicked, his back hunched over you lightly both trying to protect you and for protection.

"Well, thank you for your advice, I must be a real torment too because we actually have lot of fun together, I like his unpredictability"

You said it from your heart, you didn't want to insult her or anything, but you felt bad for him. Even if he probably deserved it, to be humiliated like this must be hard in any circumstance, in particular in a place where he is supposed to work and being known.

He looked at you a bit surprised, he leaned slowly pressing a kiss on your temple and you smiled because of that gesture so enveloped in that feeling of tenderness.

"Your shot" Elke said clearly a bit annoyed that you as she just moved along followed by a man that must be her date.

"Lets go out"

You suggested as Seb nodded and just followed for once, he held your hand as you guided him and for once he wasn't talking or commenting anything.

As you went out he sat down on the sidewalk pulling out his package of cigarettes taking out one immediately.

"Hey stand up" you said to him as he looked up at you and you snatched that cigarette off his lips "let's go away"

"Where? Don't we have to stay until she gets naked to dance?"

You smirked "No, we have all the material we need"

You took his cigarette away offering him your hand as he picked it and you guided him.

He was silent, which is rare, when he was silent it meant he was upset in some way, he always had a nice comeback line for everything usually.

His head leaned on side like a scolded child as he slowly laced your fingers together.

You walked across few streets, your heels clicking on the cement until you made it to your final location pulling him inside.

"Constatinopole?"

Seb asked looking at the sign, it was a kebab place, your favourite by the way.

"I am hungry" you just said making him lower his head and smile like a kid with cue breathy chuckles.

You ordered for the two of you as he went to sat down putting another cigarette between his lips when the man behind the counter glared at him and he just put it back in the package.

He sat down slouching as you did some small talks with the guys there, you clearly knew them. The soft music from the radio holding the place into a sort of magical aura as his eyes travelled over your naked back once more, the need for a cigarette becoming even more urgent.

You two dressed so elegantly really were so noticeable in the bright lightend place, he smiled to himself thinking it could be a nice painting by Hopper.

You came back offering him his kebab with a soft drink, very thoughtful because he was indeed already a bit high on champagne.

You ate quietly together, it wasn't uncomfortable, your silences were happening often at work and always filled with a sense of common understanding, you leaned your leg up like you always did at the office and rested it on his thigh as you sat sideways beside him. His hand flying naturally on your ankle to give his usual massage, his thumb tracing your skin with imaginary patterns as his other hand held the kebab close to his mouth.

The speaker at the radio announcing next song as Rocket Man by Elton John filled the room with a melancholic vibe. You couldn't help but think the song suited perfectly Sebastian, his being out of this word, out of control.

"Thank you" he said at some point as he tried his best not to ruin his shirt, you looked up at him as he was staring, his eyes telling you something on their own "You have been the best girlfriend I have ever had"

He added with a bitter smile diverting once more his gaze, you smiled back at him, he looked so resigned. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you have never seen him so fragile before.

"I could be"

His eyes darted up to you, his surprise evident as he put down the kebab, the soothing voice of the British singer still giving a dream edge to the moment as he moved closer. You slowly shifted your leg to give him room of movement as his right arm sneaked to rest on the back of your chair closing the space between the two of you.

His lips tasted still a bit of champagne as he pressed them against yours, you kissed him back slowly as his left hand travelled on your thigh pulling you closer to him probably staining your dress because of his greasy hand.

He pulled back almost immediately before leaning onto you again titling his head on the other side. This second time the kiss was more deep, more intense. Your hands slowly cradling his face before pulling back yourself.

He smiled against your lips and you smiled back.

Maybe tomorrow you will regret it like Elke said, maybe not.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved@fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44@apparrio @hb8301@whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl@obsidianlaszlo@alindeluce@zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahlingLet me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3

#sebastian zöllner x you #sebastian zollner x reader #sebastian zöllner headcanon #sebastian zöllner x reader #sebastian zollner #sebastian zöllner x y/n #sebastian zöllner #sebastian zollner x y/n

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Tender Ch. 3 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: As time passes,Loki and Reader grow closer.

Warnings: None. Cheesy, self-indulgent romance.

Words:

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

Taglist: @austynparksandpizza @queenariesofnarnia @commonintrest @buckylokisimp @just-someone-who-likes-to-write @lxdyred @frostay @nina1800

It was almost 8pm when the display of Loki’s cellphone lightened up, and immediately his heart dropped to his stomach.

Only recently the god had learned how to use this annoying tool, still refusing to take it with him all the time. But since it was easier for you to just text, he’d put up with it.

And truth be spoken, except for Thor sending him those silly ‘Memes’, there wasn’t really anyone eager to talk to him anway - so he knew it had to be you.

Thousand worries were made up by his mind, of you having realized this wasn’t a good idea and canceling your date. Holding his breath, he dared to unlock the screen and read:

“I’m so excited to see you tonight! 💘”

“Don’t raise your hopes” he thought to himself, now busying his mind with every possible way of him fucking things up - and still, your message made him grin from ear to ear.

“As you should be” Loki answered and put down the phone, just to pick itn back up and sending some random emoji’s so it wouldn’t sound so harsh. “💌💚💐😏“

You on the other hand felt as excited as a teenager on their first date, having occupied yourself for hours through trying on different outfits, as well as getting your hair and make-up just right. This was a special occasion, after all!

“I hope he’ll like me...” you thought as you assessed your silhouette in the mirror, debating wether this dress was too revealing or not. In the end, you decided to wrap a silken scarf around your neck - so he won’t have to see the scar.

A knock on your door made you jump a little. Had it already been this late?!

“Miss Y/N?” Loki patiently waited in front of your flat’s door, just for his whole expression to falter when you opened. “You- uh...look ravishing.”

“T-h-a-n-k y-o-u!” You mimicked, trying to give him your most welcoming smile. Oh, how glad you were that he could at least read lips - but then, the most unexpected thing happened.

“You’re welcome” he signed, a little sloppy and unsure how to precizely use his hands, but still good enough for you to understand.

“When did you-” Loki answered before you were even done signing the whole sentence, and you were completely and utterly baffled at his skill. “Started a week ago. Needs some improvement, but I get the basics.”

Basics?! Since when was the God of Mischief so humble? Especially if he really only self-teached this at such an incredible speed, that was amazing!

Loki’s trademark grin spread over his cheeks, pretty satisfied with himself as he saw how your eyes were shining in excitement. “No big deal. Shall we?”

Much to your further surprise, the god even offered you his arm to cling on, before the two of you made your leave.

You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he appeared in that suit, his locks tamed behind his ears and golden accessory complimenting his look. The whole way to wherever he’d lead you was coated in pleasant silence, with both of you exchanging small smiles and joyful glances.

“There we are!” Loki declared proudly, as if you were not still in the Stark Tower - well, he isn’t allowed to leave, so we’d better make the best of it.

The compound was gigantic, having almost everything one could think about. To be honest, you had expected a restaurant, maybe a movie night or something classy - well, on the other hand you don’t know they do it on Asgard.

But this?!

You’ve never been at this part of the tower before, unaware there were such beautiful places in this rather boring, high-tech environment.

“I come here often” he signed and you nodded approvingly, “It eases the feeling of being imprisoned.”

Yes, one could truly forget that you were still inside of the tower while standing in that great botanical garden at the top floor, ceiling made completely out of glass and revealing the starry night sky.

"B-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l” your mouth formed silently, just as you felt a hand on your hip. Loki embraced you from behind, his lips gracing your ear as he whispered “Just like you.”

“P-Pardon” he cut himself off, his grip loosening much to your frustration. “I didn’t know what came over me.”

Yet you only clasped his hand, signalizing him it was alright. “Well then...let me lead you to the table.”

In midst of this beautiful garden was a festively decorated table for two, with Loki holding one chair out for you to sit down. It seemed like he had thought of everything, making you wonder just how long he had prepared for this evening to go well.

As a prince, he was not really used to cooking, so he had gotten something in advance, together with some fine wines. “Not to compare with Asgardian quality” he joked, insisting you’d only deserve the best, “But it will do.”

Loki Odinson was the perfect gentleman, and every second of this date you became more aware of how unbelievably you had already fallen for him from the very start.

The two of you would exchange tales about your respective homelands, impactful events on your life as well as your dreams and ambitions. Even without a single spoken word, this conversation was deep and so natural, you could’ve kept on forever.

He would be happy to show you some little magic tricks, such as making blossoms float or lights appear everywhere. May you want it or not, the prince showered you in small gifts such as a selection of his most favourite reads he thought you might like, or a bracelet resembling two snakes intertwined with each other.

Oh, how both of you wished time would stop, letting you revel in this evening just a bit longer...

Having forgotten about time completely, you only realized how much time had passed when the sun was already rising at the horizon.

“Oh my” Loki chuckled shyly, almost feeling guilty for you were probably exhausted. “Let me consort you to your rooms, my fair lady.”

Trying his best to ignore all the spiteful looks Tony’s coworkers gave him as they crossed your way in the hallways, the god wished he would’ve just teleported you back.

“I need to thank you, my love.” The nickname escaped his lips quicker than his mind could catch up on. “Umm, I mean, I really enjoyed myself today. Hopefully you did too.”

You bit your lip, trying to play down your nervousness from expecting him to make a move - yet there was no kiss. Not even a hug, or anything to bid you goodbye.

“Sleep well-” Loki blinked heavily as you clutched on his arm, fingernails digging into the fabric of his suit. “What’s wrong, little dove?”

He squinted his eyes together, racking his brain as hard as he could to decipher your ASL, hopefully not misunderstanding something.

“Do you want to come inside?”

"I-I-I...” Hel, that caught him off guard. But you only gave him a sleepy smile, expression as welcoming as always. “That’s considered bad manners, I mean-”

“Not that!” You huffed quite amused at him becoming all flustered. “I thought you may want to sleep here? Just sleep, nothing more.”

“Of cou- I mean, if you insist” he desperately tried to preserve the last piece of dignity left inside of him, trying to downplay just how needy he was for your affection. "If you insist.”

Sheepishly entering your wide, one-room flat, Loki walked close behind you as his glare immediately went to the sofa on your right - yet you confidently shook your head, pointing towards the king-sized bed.

“This is new to me.” You judgingly rose your eyebrow at his statement, knowing the stories about how he and his brothers were heartbreakers back on Awsgard very well. “Not like that, I mean...ah, forget it.”

Much to your displeasure, the prince would rest far away from you, lying stiffly on his back.

Thinking back about your relationship up until now, you didn’t feel like sleeping in the same bed would cross any line:

It all started very subtle and slowly, but not unnoticed by you and the others - how over time, the God of Mischief was craving your touch. Like his hand ‘accidentally’ brushing against yours, just barely noticeable. Or how he almost naturally cuddled under the blanket with you whenever you were sitting on the same sofa.

The more time passed, the more confident Loki became in his approaches, always wary of your reaction - which would be delighted every single time.

Hugs had already become a firm ritual whenever one of you two traumazized messes were in need of affirmation.

Even some innocent kisses anywhere but your lips were a permanent feature or your togetherness by now, and both of you cherished every second of it.

So you’d plainly crawl over to his side of the bed, pressing yourself against his back.

“I tend to experience nightmares...” Loki whispered, only to be answered with your grip around him depending. "Maybe I should leave."

You snug your head hard against his back, inhaling his scent - for some reason, Loki always smelled like freshly cut grass and old books, not that you'd complain though.

The sound of his heartbeat was like music in your ears, and without giving him a response, it would soon calm you into a sweet slumber.

Tonight, Loki's mind would find peace.

#loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki / reader #loki x y/n #loki / you #loki odinson #god of mischief #marvel #dieney #Avengers #self insert #fanfiction #writing #loki friggason

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dreamiesdotcom · 3 years

Text

celestial | h.rj

Summary: To attribute full sight and still have the ability to describe things to someone who's never seen them means that you've felt the world deeper than anybody else.

Word count: 2164

a/n: idk whats up with me and midnights

Renjun's first question goes like this: "What does the pool look like?"

Naturally, Jeno panics; how do you explain a pool to someone who's never seen it? He's been so used to seeing it on a daily that he didn't even pay mind to the details. He debates on describing a rectangle, and then describing the waters, and then whatever the hell his 12-year-old mind could come up with. Naturally, he fails.

For him, you saved everything that day. You grabbed Renjun's hand, intertwining your fingers before grazing the water. "Do you feel that?"

"What exactly am I supposed to feel?"

"The water. Do you feel that constant flow and the relaxing cold?" you laughed then, patient even for the moody boy. He huffs out his cheeks and nods, you let go of his hands. "That's blue, Renjun. The water reflects the sky, and a pool is like a little ocean. An ocean is like a world filled with blue."

He tries to think of it, vast and endless fields of freedom. He couldn't, though; all he's known about the sky is that it was blue, and that blue is associated with sadness. He takes advantage of the fact that someone's willing to answer his question, and he asks again, "Is it scary?"

"Mhm, for some, it is. I'll let you in a secret, come here." You nod, and then he tilts his head to the side. He hears a splash, and doesn't expect it once he hears your voice after — "I'm actually scared of swimming pools."

"Didn't you just go in?"

"No, that was Jeno. I'm here." You poked a finger on his left arm, and he could tell you're wearing that cheeky grin. His stance softens. "I'm just beside you."

###

It was morning, the sun was shining and the scorching summer heat was kinder than everyone expected it to be. Somewhere around the room, Chenle and Jisung successfully trapped a sleeping Jaemin in a domino prison, Jeno's trying to convince them why this is such a bad idea and Mark is getting scolded by Hyuck. The TV fades to background noise, the plan of cooking extra pancakes long forgotten. Renjun leans his head on your shoulders, "What does the night look like?"

It felt like an odd question to ask as the sun is halfway to its peak, but Renjun's curiosity piques in no time. You hum for a bit to think, "The night is very different to a lot of people."

Very different for a lot of people... yeah, many things in the world are like that. He figured it out years ago when you told him about the swimming pools, and the airplanes, and the rollercoasters. He figured it out when you talked to him about books, when you taught him about colors, about shapes.

He still doesn't know what different looks like, and what importance it holds.

"Hyuck loves the night. You hear his laughter, right? He likes going on adventures and feeling the wind. I think, to him, the night looks like a harsh passing of the breeze you felt when we went out on a drive." He takes in your words. These days, he gets better with understanding metaphors — he learned that blue is not just a shade of sadness, and that sky doesn't always mean blue — he understands your words better. "But me... I just sleep. I don't like the night very much."

"Huh?"

"Have you ever been in a silent place, Jun?" you asked softly. "Not the silence you can fill with music. I'm talking about blank, emotionless silence; the one that echoes. The one that haunts you. The one that makes you feel alone. That's what the night looks like for me."

Renjun wanted to nod, and he wanted to say yes because he's been in that silent place for the longest time. It's all he's ever known, and it's all that he's ever seen; it's the only thing he sees — black, echoing, loud nothingness.

He didn't, though.

Instead, he asks a question, "What do you think about the night?"

"I think it's a question." comes quickly in a reply. "I still don't know how a nightmare town gives life to dreamers, but it does. It's a question I do not want to know the answer to."

Renjun knows of the stars and the sky, and you'd tried to explain their light by telling him what blinding comfort was — think of all your loneliest moments being washed away by the fire I told you about, and that's pretty much it, 'jun — and he knows of the big, gazing moon that changes shape now and then. It's what makes up most of the night, Jeno had said, so he knows that too.

What he doesn't know is why it seems so vicious to you, and what he doesn't know is that if he could see, would he have chosen to close his eyes to not witness such complex sadness.

###

It's at times like this when solace blooms in his heart. The rest of the world seems to be fast asleep, but he's so awake, so aware, so alive. You sit beside him, yet again brought him to the place you and Jaemin frequents in, and he ignores the jealous feeling in his chest. It's at times like this that Renjun realizes he's falling.

"Your smile must look beautiful," he wonders out loud. "Can you please tell me how your smile looks like?"

"Me?" You replied nonchalantly. Your chuckle passes as cold as the night breeze, and he wonders how the poet would write themselves as poetry. The blankness of your words dulls the hope in his eyes, "I... don't like it. My eyes... they always look tired. I always look tired. I hate myself."

For a moment, he dwells on his thoughts — Jaemin's brought you here, and you're more frequent here together, and he's seen how you looked against the glimmering stars. Did he fall in love? Did he want to keep you all to himself, like a little secret? Did he want to kiss you until all spite of yourself vanishes from your soul? Jaemin must've, Renjun knows. He knows because even blind, he's aware of how beautiful you truly are; not only he's heard it from his friends, but he feels it strongly. He couldn't see the city lights that he's heard of so many times, but he knows you shine brighter than them.

Hell, he couldn't even see you — he couldn't even see anything, but he knows you do. He knows you are. You think he's wrong, that he's more gorgeous, but he reaches for your hands.

He doesn't know what beautiful looks like. He just knows that it's breath-taking, soul-stealing, ethereal, and you.

"I think you smile like euphoria. I think you smile like the sound of music boxes, those with lovely tunes," he says, eyes closed and breathing fast. "I think... "

'I love you.' oh, how he wished it's easy to say those words. He purses his lips. "...you're one of the most beautiful people I've ever met, right next to my mother."

Beside him, you chuckled and held his hands. "You're sleepy."

"I am. Right now, I'm sleepy and I know you're beautiful." He squeezes your hands, looking at the direction he knows you're at. He lets out a shaky smile, "Tomorrow, I will be wide awake and I'd still think you're stunning."

It's at times like this that Renjun realizes he's falling. It's at times like this that he fears how much he can't wait to crash.

###

Renjun's biggest fear among many is that he'll never feel like this again.

He fell too hard. He fell too quickly and too harshly and he's only noticing it now when the impact makes itself known and he couldn't stand up. He knew that he was scared, he knew that he was afraid then, but only now did he know what it truly meant to be terrified; when he's sitting beside you on the roof, feeling the wind pass by, and he couldn't help but wonder what if it's not us, but I can never love the person meant for me because they're not you?

It's a silly thing, maybe. He did not believe in many things and fate is not one of the few he believed in. He thinks that love is something you choose for yourself — it's something you decide on your own. He thinks that the only problem in 'not being made for each other' is that you relied too much on what the stars wrote, and didn't write your story on your own. What even are these stars, aside from unknown giant speckles of light? Why should they decide someone's life?

He adores them, he knows, and now he can't help his curiosity: "How do the stars look like tonight?"

"They're bright. Very bright."

He swoons at the content sigh you let out before speaking, and he lets himself indulge. It's at moments like this when he lets himself feel, where he relishes in the adoration he nestles.

"They ought to be," he whispers to himself. "They gotta be bright if they're trying to outshine you."

Giggles fades to laughter, and genuine words burn forced. He could almost taste the bitterness of your words, "You haven't seen me."

Does he need to?

"I don't need to," he concludes. "There's so much more to you than what I couldn't see."

Because it's true. All those years you held this something in you, a piece of an old soul and an unknown heavenly something you ignored just so you could spite yourself. You had this way with words, this certain understanding of the world that he's never found in someone else. Renjun thinks that to attribute full sight and still have the ability to describe things to someone who's never seen them means that you've felt the world deeper than anybody else, and to know that the world is cruel but still choose to keep your eyes open is something that should be admired.

Right now, you're the closest to him you've ever been, and he bathes in the feeling of your lips hovering above his.

"I'm a mess, Huang Renjun."

"You're an art in progress," he whispers back, eyes fluttering shut as you close what little distance you have left. "But even half-made, you're a masterpiece."

###

If somebody asked Renjun if he ever saw this coming, he'd say "Why the fuck would you even ask me that question?"

Alright, jokes aside, never in his mind did he think life would turn out this way. First of all, a lot of unexpected things have already happened, but he's stubborn so of course, that doesn't convince him. He should've felt it coming, but of course, he refused to. After all, why would he even think of his best friend laying beside him on his bed, talking about random things all night in every way domestic? Why would he even think of you two being together, whispering sweet nothings to each other? He's guilty of doing those, yes, but that doesn't mean that he knows the answer. In a spur of the moment decision, he asks another question — "Why'd you choose me?"

"You're the only one who wanted me—IT'S A JOKE! Hey, hey, I was only kidding," you laugh, finding so many things entertaining about the fact that he's unamused. He preens at the soft kiss you placed on the edge of his lips, and then even more when you whisper, "You're the only one I wanted."

Normally, this is where his heart would do those weird flips and antics. This is the time where he'd feel like he's in another world, like he's invincible and oh so lucky to be thoroughly adored by the person he loves so much.

It's only that sometimes, Renjun feels unreasonable. He's sensitive and insecure and it's so much easier to find flaws in himself than to appreciate the things that made him who he is. Sometimes, he needs to ask some things he's not exactly sure of, things much like: "Even with... even with my eyes... like this?"

And it's you, and it's never dull when it's with you, everything is always beautiful and poetic. He doesn't know where that voice was coming from, but he hears it in his mind, and it tells him to trust you.

A butterfly kiss on each of his eyelids. A hand warm on the top of his hands. The rain pours heavily outside but it's muffled enough that it's calming, and all that he can think of is warm, so warm, so loved. You hold your foreheads close and keep them close for seconds, before you press a soft kiss on his lips, "Your eyes are beautiful, my love."

And for once, Renjun's not afraid to ask — "How do they look like?"

Beautiful and so much more.

"As if something straight out of a magical dream, because you are. You are magical," you whisper, breathing in slow intervals. "You are the closest to celestial a human could be."

#nct dream #nct dream drabbles #nct dream blurbs #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct dream one shots #nct dream fluff #renjun #renjun drabbles #renjun scenarios #renjun blurbs #renjun timestamps #renjun angst #renjun fluff #renjun imagines #blind!renjun

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kenmab · 3 years

Text

the truth is that shang qinghua didn’t understand why mobei-jun kept him around anymore. if shang qinghua thought abt the pros vs the cons, well there wasn’t any pros left.

“don’t...” mobei-jun said. his cold hand drowsily grabbed shang qinghua’s in the middle of the night. of course he was recovering from saving shang qinghua’s life again, that man had gone from double agent peak lord to human outcast back to esteemed peak lord only to be subjected to being kidnapped for a demon king’s ransom. the whole situation felt a little silly, airplane had written every single one of these characters into creation just to be abused by them in such a way! but all of this just confused shang qinghua even more. just what was shang qinghua’s purpose in this mobei-jun’s story at this point when all he had left to do is cause trouble?

“don’t....” mobei-jun repeated. his hands were always cold, shang qinghua didn’t notice how well he had adjusted to this.

“don’t what, my king? i was just going to go and get you a cup of tea to help you recover...” shang qinghua spoke quietly from mobei-jun’s bedside. mobei-jun continued to look at him.

“.....i have servants to do that sort of thing,” he responded in the low voice. shang qinghua blinked twice. aren’t i the servant who should be doing that sort of thing?

“are—are you sure, my king? i don’t mind it if you want something to drink. have you eaten anything today? i can—“

“no.” then mobei-jun waited a moment. “every time i let you out of my sight, you disappear...”

which....was not untrue. shang qinghua was cursed in this way, any day he begged mobei-jun for permission to travel away for a few days, he never came back. none of it was his fault—bandits, demons, humans with worse intentions and higher cultivations—it always made him feel suspect when he had to explain to his savior that he wasn’t running away from him!! it was just a poor situation!! the present shang qinghua was only but an easy target, but the present mobei-jun...

“my king...” shang qinghua couldn’t fathom his own character’s intentions anymore. if he didn’t exist in this world to be ordered around or to be slapped around by his sworn king, then what was the purpose of him staying around for so long? to write poetry or love stories under a surname for the public? if that was the case, did he have to do so under the roof of the northern demon kingdom? shang qinghua stayed at the manor, his food was specially delivered from huanhua place, his ink was always high end, his own worries or missions were low. he was almost always accompanied by such a powerful ascended demon king. after all the years shang qinghua had semi righteously stayed by mobei-jun’s side all the way up until saving him from death, saving him twice from death, he didn’t expect his life to turn out like this.

if shang qinghua indulged in any small hobbies of his, mobei-jun observed quietly from the sidelines with his eyebrows almost noticeably raised. if shang qinghua ever took a trip to an ding peak, upon his departure back to the demon realm mobei-jun would patiently wait at the bottom of the mountain to escort him back safely. if shang qinghua ever wanted or needed something mobei-jun would do his best to bring it life, going as far as cooking him dinner upon request. whether it was mealtime or bedtime, mobei-jun would listen to shang qinghua’s ramblings about storybooks or tales from home, florals he’d seen or recipes he’d learn, there would be calm idle chatter.

shang qinghua had pretended not to notice the way his sworn king had claimed him by switching his ribbon while tying his hair up one morning as per shang qinghua’s request. he pretended not to notice that mobei-jun had stopped hitting him and had actually resorted to patting his head every so often. but shang qinghua really hadn’t noticed at all the way mobei-jun let him touch his face and hair and arms in a way he wouldn’t have been allowed to in years before. nor did he notice the softness in mobei-jun’s face as they spent their time together. on cold days draped in his king’s heavy cloak, shang qinghua would forget to pay attention to how slow and easy their lifestyle was, only after dark would he start to wonder what he was doing, and why he was allowed to be doing it.

mobei-jun gazed at shang qinghua for a moment longer, then turned his head away looking towards the dark night sky.

“don’t.........go. don’t go anymore. just stay here. stay......by my side,” he said quietly. his voice hadn’t been cold towards shang qinghua in years, tonight was no different. “come here and lay down with me.”

shang qinghua stared at him before just doing what he was told—which is just what he does best. but he still didn’t understand. what about our situation keeps in such a great mood? especially if im no longer useful to him, why now does he want my company? why would someone want someone as un-useful as me...while looking at the back of his king’s head, and feeling the hand grabbing his quiver just slightly, shang qinghua ignored those kinds of thoughts again. a familiar wave a warmth passed over his heart while looking at this person lying next to him.

“goodnight my king,” shang qinghua whispered. “and hurry and get better, i don’t want to lie in bed all day! let’s go into to town and purchase a new book once you’ve recovered.”

“......en”

“and.....there’s a new pastry i’d really like to try in the city! some fried and covered in sugar.”

“.....en”

and there’s something i wanted to buy...

mobei-jun turned and looked at shang qinghua. only shang qiuhua could tell his expression was of curiosity and not indifference.

something to remind you that i won’t run away...

these are words that he wouldn’t say out loud, he wanted trinkets to remind them of each other. maybe he could waive some of his king’s uneasiness this way. a secret plan to nonchalantly give mobei-jun a piece of himself.

“my king, what are you smiling about?” if you could even call that a smile! shang qinghua still didn’t understand why mobei-jun continued to let him live in such a way, especially after all his initial duties were over. but in the end, he couldn’t ignore how much he enjoyed being in this kind of situation. it was an ending he definitely would’ve never written for himself.

#oh god it’s *bad*#like BAD bad bdmskdjnd but #i had to write it :/ i love moshang too much #so i thought ‘what might they be up to?’ and did it #it’s ugly im sorry sbnsksjjdjdnns 😐 don’t mind me #svsss #moshang #ficficfic

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undyingskies · 3 years

Text

Drown

request: no

a/n: I can’t tell if I hate this, love it, or just like it. This fic was just be completely self indulging in this idea and writing it all out. Fair warning it is long but I hope you enjoy!

also this fic includes lyrics from the song drown by clinton kane! i don’t claim them as my own, i just uses them as the writing the reader wrote!

warnings: a few curse words

____________________________________

You fell and you fell hard. Like every cliche story ever, you fell for your best friend. It was a long time coming and most people that surrounded the two of you had called it long ago. Both of you were constantly denying the truth of it though, and all these years later here you are face to face with the truth.

You and Owen had met a long time ago, that fun age in between not being a kid anymore and puberty. You were little miss perfect, always has been and always be. While Owen was quite frankly the opposite, it’s not that he was “bad” or “misbehaved” but he wasn’t shy or afraid to show who he was.

While on the other hand, you were quiet, shy, and kept to yourself. How the two of you became friends, let alone, best friends was beyond you. To this day you still couldn’t pinpoint the moment your friendship began.

Knowing the two of you now, it makes complete sense to everyone. While you may be quiet and shy, you were practically the female version of Owen. A similar personality and humor. You held this certain confidence about yourself that would just draw people to you and Owen always says that’s what got him. That’s what made him want to be your friend.

Now here you are about 10 years later, still best friends but instead of swallowing nervously due to the activities you were always dragged to because of Owen, you were swallowing down the nerves of your feelings for him.

You’re sitting in your shared living room, surrounded by some of your closest friends, your inhibitions low due to the cup in your hand.

You figured drowning yourself in whatever drink was poured in your cup would stop the never ending thoughts of the boy you love. But instead you still saw his face.

I can’t even drink without seeing his face, you think to yourself.

The boys had decided since everyone had the next few days off it would be fun to throw a little party at the apartment. A game/movie night if you will.

So that’s how you ended up sitting quietly in your group of friends, sitting in a circle playing some game similar to truth or dare. You weren’t paying attention when they were explaining the rules, lost in your thoughts, their words just murmurs to you in the background. Until a voice cuts through,

“Y/N! Hey!” Charlie’s voice loud and booming, pulling your attention. “It’s your turn.” A small smirk displayed on his face.

Here’s the thing, you lived with the two boys. Owen and Charlie. When Owen found out he would be filming in Toronto, Canada, he booked you a ticket before he even asked you about it. You have always loved Canada and dreamed about living there, so he took you and now here you are a few months later.

Charlie welcomed you with open arms the same way he did Owen. The two of you getting dangerously close.

Dangerously because Charlie can’t keep a secret for his life and he now happened to know every single one of yours.

Now here you are, staring back at Charlie who has a smirk plastered on his face.

“What was Owen like in high school?” A shaky breath leaves at his question, grateful that his question wasn’t invasive the way you had assumed it would have been.

“Oh gosh,” you say laughing slightly, “ I would say very similar to the guy you know today. He still did the same dumb shit then that he does now! He did get in trouble though, always for being too loud or disruptive!” You admittedly tell them.

Owen scoffs at your words, feigning hurt and a pout. “I was not that bad Y/N.” He says laughing.

“Ya sure Joyner, you had detention like every week!” You laugh out.

“Okay well hey!” He says, holding his hands up, “not all of us can be like little miss perfect over here! Never got in trouble, straight A’s, always on time, always the teacher’s favorite!”

“Well one of us had to be the good one! God knows how many times I saved you from getting in trouble!” You laugh out.

“Very true.” Owen says throwing a wink in your direction. You can feel the heat spread across your cheeks, bringing your cup up to your face to hopefully hide it.

“Anyways next!” You say thinking of who to choose. “Savannah...”

As always you let someone else come up with your question, picking invasive questions for games like this was not your strong suit. Often opting out for something silly or plain, you could never come up with a question good enough.

The point of the game was to get embarrassing answers, get someone to admit something they didn’t want too, or get someone to do something silly. You loved playing but just couldn’t get your questions to match the game.

The game goes on and on. Everyone getting picked on throughout the night. Savannah having to admit who her worst kiss was, Jeremy having to give Carolynn a lap dance, even Tori having to call the guy she liked and asking him out on a date. It just kept going and everyone question or demand getting worse than the last.

Every few rounds you seemed to escape the prying eyes and questions of your friends. You often got up to fill your cup, not wanting to let the substance get below empty.

You were feeling good, giddy even. Your head light, thoughts happy, and mind empty except for your never-ending laughter due to your friends.

That’s until it was Charlie’s turn again. This time he wasn’t letting you get off easy, it happened to many times.

He had hoped that if he asked you an easy question someone else would probe you for a harder one, but no one did.

That wasn’t going to happen again.

“So Y/N, you’ve been writing some things recently haven’t you?” He asks you. Oh shit.

“Yes Charlie, I have been. You know this.” You tell him trying to play it cool. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you knew what he was doing or letting the others know or suspect any embarrassment.

“I want you to read us the last thing you wrote.” You shot him a deadly look, one that does not go unnoticed by your friends.

You feel your ears and cheeks start to turn pink, you would bet that the heat coming off of them would cause people to see steam.

Charlie was very well aware of his knowledge of what you were writing and the topic of such.

Both of you very well aware.

“No, Y/N, you don’t have to do it if you’re not comfortable.” Owen pipes up placing his hand on your arm for a split second.

Owen knew his best friend, like the back of his hand. He knew that as much as you were an amazing writer that you hated sharing it. Often times not even letting him read what you wrote.

He was also well aware of how your shoulders tensed up at Charlie’s request and the look on your face.

“No, it’s fine O. I can read it.” You tell him lightly pushing him away from the space he had closed in between you while trying to comfort you.

Then you’re on your feet, heading to your room. Searching for the pale yellow notebook you kept rather hidden, not trusting either of the two nosy boys you live with.

You walk back, yellow notebook in hand and take your seat back in between Owen and Savannah.

With a deep breath, you open your notebook flipping back to the last page you had written on. Wincing at the topic of it.

“Okay,” you start, having to take another breath in, “this one’s called drown.”

Savannah places a gentle hand on your leg for comfort. The two of you also rather close so she was well aware of your discomfort in this situation as well. Your shoot her a small smile.

“I’ve been trying to keep my distance,

but in an instance, you break me down.

I know better than to want you, but I succumb to you without a doubt.”

You look up at all of the faces looking at you before you continue yet again.

“Tell me lies, tell me painted truths.

anything at all to keep me close to you.

Pull me under the way you do, tonight I want to drown in the ocean of you.”

With that, you close your book. You had a few more scribbled ideas around this one but none of them made the cut for it quite yet.

Everyone was quiet after you finished reading it, shocked by your truthful words and ever so obvious confession through your words.

Well ever so obvious to everyone but Owen.

“That was really good Y/N!” Savannah tells you with a smile. “Ya, that was really good!” Tori agrees.

“See I told you it was good Y/N!” Charlie says proud of himself for getting you to finally read something out loud.

“Wait, you read what she wrote?” Owen asks, hurt coming over his face slightly. You never shared anything and on the rare occasion you did with him but no one else.

“Well yeah, she asked me for my opinion on the concept for the piece.” Charlie admits, knowing fully what he was doing.

Charlie knew that Owen liked you, he would even go as far as say love you. He knew that Owen would get jealous that you came to him and let him read what you wrote but not Owen.

Over the last few weeks all he heard Owen do is complain about the distance you were placing between the two of you. He also always heard Owen’s frustration of you not sharing your work with him.

Charlie had a plan and knew exactly what he was doing.

“Well what was the concept then?” Owen asks not reading to let it go.

“Nothing Owen.” Charlie says at the exact same time you say, “Just a guy that I like.”

Your words shocking you just the same amount that they shocked everyone. Your confession makes its way out of you before your mind can catch up with your mouth.

Your newfound confidence from whatever drink had been occupying your cup for the night.

“You like someone?” Owen asks, shocked. Not bothering to hide his hurt from everyone.

You were supposed to come to him about these things, you two weren’t supposed to have secrets. But recently it felt like all that there were was secrets between the two of you.

“Ya I do,” you say shrugging your shoulders, “it’s not a big deal.”

You say with a wave of your hand trying to dismiss the conversation. You didn’t want to get into this, let alone get into it with Owen.

“So,” Jeremy says trying to change the subject and move onto the next person. The awkwardness that surrounded the atmosphere was just getting too much to bare.

“It is a big deal Y/N! It’s a big deal to me, I’m your best friend your supposed to tell me.” Owen says louder and completely ignoring the attempt to change the subject.

“Seriously O, it’s nothing.” You say while getting up to go to the kitchen, trying to escape Owen.

“It is not nothing!” Owen says just as sternly all while following you into the kitchen not letting you escape him or the conversation.

You just ignore him and his pestering as you go into the fridge to grab the water, deciding that it was the better beverage choice to make this time around.

You make your way around Owen, while he is still yelling at you, going to lean up on your tippy toes to grab a cup for the water. The cup just out of your reach, causing you to struggle.

You feel Owen’s hand lay itself on your lower back, you watch as his other hand reaches over you to grab the cup.

Instead of placing it down in front of you, he keeps it in his hand and close to his chest. He uses his one hand on your back to gently move you so that you’re facing him.

“Just tell me Y/N.” He says sounding defeated.

“I said let it go Owen, it doesn’t matter.” A loud sigh comes from Owen, the growing frustration evident on his face.

“Why can’t you get it through your head that it does matter Y/N.” He says through clenched teeth, not wanting to get overly mad at you.

“Why Owen? Why does it matter?” You say, the frustration finally boiling over in you.

“Why?” He says now yelling, “because you’re my best friend Y/N! We’re not supposed to have secrets, we’re supposed to tell each other everything, and now you’re replacing me with Charlie.”

Owen says that last part quieter, his head hanging low at his words.

“You think I’m replacing you with Charlie?” You ask just as quietly, your heart breaking slightly at the site of the boy in front of you.

“It sure feels like it Y/N. You’ve been spending so much time with him, sharing stuff you don’t share with me, and just ignoring me and putting all this distance between us.”

You didn’t know what to say back to him. You would have never guessed that he would notice what was going on or the fact that you were pulling away.

It’s not that you wanted too, it just felt like the right decision to make while trying to get over your growing feelings for him.

Charlie was just a convenient confidant, in the best way possible. He was always there and you trusted him, so you told him about your feelings for Owen and he was doing his best to help.

Until tonight.

“Can you please just tell me what’s been going on?” Owen asks breaking the silence and you from your thoughts.

“I can’t Owen, I promise it’s nothing serious.”

“It has to be serious if you’re pushing me away like this. You like someone and you haven’t even talked to me about it once, that’s never happened.”

You don’t understand why Owen was so hung up on such a small fact. It’s true that he was the one you usually came to with these things but anytime you told him about someone you liked he always brushed it off. It seemed like he was always so disinterested in that part of your life so him being so frustrated by the fact that you went to Charlie with it just seemed weird to you.

What you didn’t know is what was swirling through Owen’s head. Owen felt his heart clenching and his head spinning, anytime you brought up who you liked his heart stopped and he couldn’t get a breath in.

He wasn’t one to admit that though, he didn’t want to admit it to himself either. So he dismissed that feeling and dismissed any conversation that brought those feelings bubbling to the surface.

Deep down Owen knew the reason behind that feeling. He had fallen for you and fallen hard. He always would say he didn’t even know what love was, he couldn’t be in love with anyone not even you. But he did, he loved you.

And where it leaves you is you both standing a little too close for comfort in this situation.

Your heart beating faster because you weren’t ready to admit the feelings you had buried so deep.

And Owen’s breath shallow as he didn’t want to really know the outcome of this conversation yet he was so desperate to have it.

“Owen you never really care about who I like, why so much this time around?” You ask him trying to turn the conversation topic onto him rather than you.

“Of course I care about who you like! I care about anything that goes in in your life!” His tone raising with every word.

“Sure never seemed like it!” Your tone doesn’t match his, you feel defeated.

“I...” Owen trails off not knowing where to take this conversation, knowing that it will have to end in a confession if he continues. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I do care and just want to know who this guy is.”

It was now or never. You can finally admit your feelings that have been swallowing you whole for months now or just keep allowing yourself to drown in them.

“You.”

That’s all you say. Plain and simple.

Then it’s quiet. Too quiet, it seemed like the conversation in the living room stopped at the same time your confession finally came to the surface.

Your heart was beating faster than it ever has, faster than it was beating earlier.

Owen’s heart beating just as fast as yours. His was out of happiness and excitement while yours was due to nervousness.

Neither of you said a word.

“Well alright then.” You take his silence as his answer. You didn’t want to face him anymore; you were doing your best to hold back the warm tears that were threatening to spill over.

You turn on your heel ready to leave before he can see your tears. But before you can take another step his hand is on your wrist holding you in place.

“Say it again.” That’s all he says.

“Say what again Owen?” Your confused and just want to get out of this conversation.

“Who you like, say it again.”

“Just...why?” You don’t want to admit it again, you don’t want to face it again.

“Just please, say it again.” Owen is practically begging you at this point. He needed to hear you say it again, he needed the confirmation before he acted on his own feelings.

“You, Owen!” You say loud and frustrated, “I said you, Owen!”

That’s when Owen makes his move. In a blink of an eye his hand drops your wrist and makes its way to your cheek, and his lips are on yours.

You don’t move a muscle. Your shocked, you never expected to be in this position with Owen.

“Kiss me back.” Owen says with his lips still against yours.

That’s when you break through your trance. Your lips start to move in sync with his. Finally.

It was like a breath of fresh air, his lips on yours.

You pull apart slightly, taking a breath in. His lips chase after yours not ready to let the contact between the two of you end.

The taste of yours lips new and he was already addicted, not wanting it to fade away.

After a few more seconds of your lips moving together, Owen is the one to pull away. His lungs burning from the lack of air.

He places his forehead against yours, placing a kiss on your nose. Now that he finally kissed you, he never wanted to stop.

“I have wanted to hear those words for so long.” Owen admits, a smile on his face and one working its way on yours.

“Really?” You ask.

“Yes really!” Owen laughs, “I’ve liked you longer than I want to admit.”

“Ohhh really?” You ask teasingly. You could tell by the faint tint on his cheeks that he was feeling a little embarrassed. You couldn’t help but tease him a little.

“Yes, really Y/N! Now stop it!” Owen laughs out.

“Make me.” You retort back, the look on Owen’s face causing you to giggle.

With his eyebrows raised, Owen leans in just centimeters from your lips. “If you say so.” Then his lips are on yours again.

They move together in sync, much more passionate the time before. The both of you finally letting your feelings pour into the kiss.

“Are you two done yet?” You hear Charlie yell from right outside of the kitchen.

The two of you pulling apart laughing, of course Charlie was close by listening to what was happening.

“Yes Charlie!” You yell back laughing.

“Soooo,” Owen says looking down at you, your hands still entangled with each other and your chests still touching. “Soooo,” you say back.

“Just ask her out already damn!” Charlie yet again yells causing you two and everyone else to laugh.

“Fine Gillespie!” Owen yells back, “Y/N would you like to go on a date and get this thing started?” He asks you with a big smile.

“Yes, I would Joyner.” You say back smiling, leaning in for another kiss.

The two of you pull apart smiles upon both of your faces. The air light, all your feelings finally on the table, both of you happy and relieved to know that you both feel the same way.

“Now how about you read me some more of what you wrote about me!” He says with an eyebrow wiggle.

You shove him away, laughing.

“In your dreams Joyner.” You tell him.

He laughs, chasing after you as you run away from his hands that are trying to tickle you. His shouts of telling you to show him what you wrote and you laughing back no.

You’d rather show him happy writings than your sad ones. But with your newfound relationship blooming you were sure to show him some soon enough.

#owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #owen x reader #owen joyner imagine #owenjoynerimagines #owen joyner x y/n #owen joyner x reader #owen joyner fluff #owen joyner fanfiction #owen joyner fic #julie and the phantoms #jatp #julieandthephantomsimagine

174 notes · View notes

real-work-of-art · 4 years

Text

Golden

A self indulgent story ft. a very soft boyfriend!h

A/N: Wow, I feel like I am going to throw up. I wrote this a couple weeks ago, with honestly no real intention to post it. But with all these golden music video rumors, now just felt like the perfect time. So here it is! This never would have happened without the kindness and encouragement from @for-fucks-sake-h, @andwhenshesays, @idk-who-she-is, and @smokeinherperfume. And a very special thank you to @oh-honey-styles who read through every small piece of progress and encouraged me practically every single day for the past two weeks. I love you all! Anyway, here is my first ever official piece of writing. I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 1.7k

She is beautiful. The way she is curled up on the couch, legs pulled up to her chest, hands pressed between her face and the pillow. Harry sits across the room watching as her eyelashes lightly press against her cheeks and her shoulders move slowly with each inhale. The sunlight is casting a slight golden hue around the room. She was almost too bright for him.

He sits there in complete awe—watching her rest so peacefully. He wonders what she might be dreaming of. Because ever since they met, he only dreams of her.

Quickly, he stands up from his chair, and walks out of the room, careful not to make too much noise. Entering his bedroom, he walks straight towards the built in bookshelves to the right and grabs his camera off the shelf, quickly checking to make sure it’s charged.

Harry slowly tiptoes back into the living room, stopping behind the couch to make sure she is still asleep. As he peers down at her, he desperately wants to reach down and move the stray piece of hair that has fallen across her face, but he resists out of fear of ruining the moment. Instead he holds his camera up to his face, adjusting the settings and snapping his first picture. She stirs slightly at the sound of the camera's shutter but remains asleep.

Harry walks around the couch, back to the chair across from her. He snaps a couple more photos, changing the angles and adjusting his focus, trying to catch the way the soft light of the setting sun drapes over her face.

After taking at least a dozen photos he starts to look through them, surprised that his amature photography skills were actually able to capture the beautiful image in front of him.

As he flicks through each photo on his camera he hears a soft shuffling coming from the direction of the couch. Looking up he sees her eyes still closed, arms and legs stretching along the couch. He quickly tucks the camera into the drawer of the side table next to his chair.

As she opens her eyes she sees Harry looking right back at her with a gentle smile on his face.

“Hello beautiful,” Harry softly speaks.

She smiles softly back in his direction, closing her eyes again.

“Hi,” she mumbles.

Again, she opens her eyes slowly, immediately catching his gaze. She stretches her arms out in a silent invitation for him to come join her in the small sliver of space on the couch. She’s desperate to feel the comfort of his warm body against hers. Harry slowly stands and takes the few steps over to the couch. Grabbing her hand, he gently pulls her up so he can better fit himself against her. With her head now resting on top of Harry's arm and her right knee slotted between his, she looks up at his face. Her eyes first gaze over his chin, admiring the slightly grown out facial hair. Slowly scanning upwards taking in the soft rosey color of his lips, noticing the slight sunburn on his nose from being out on the boat earlier, and finally catching his green eyes.

“Wish I could take a picture of you,” she whispers.

A quick zip of panic rushes up Harry’s spine, making his back stiffen up slightly. Does she know? Searching her face for any sign that she’s hinting at something, he realizes all he sees is genuine admiration. He relaxes into her, leaning down to press his lips softly against hers. It’s a gentle kiss filled with so many unsaid declarations of happiness and love.

Pulling away she looks back up, meeting his eyes that are already staring into hers. “I’m hungry,” she mumbles.

Throwing his head back, Harry lets out a loud laugh, always finding her honesty and poor timing incredibly endearing.

“Well let's get you something to eat then,” he says bringing his eyes back to hers, a huge smile spread across his face.

9 months later

Harry was putting the finishing touches on his dinner spread. Tonight they were celebrating their one year anniversary. Well, one year of knowing each other at least. But since Harry travels so much, he tries to take advantage of any celebration he can with her.

They opted for a relaxing dinner at home, where they could be comfortable and focused on only each other. Harry put himself in charge of preparing the whole evening. So after lunch he surprised her with an afternoon at the spa, having to push her out the door just a little bit.

While she was out, Harry got busy trying to make their night special. Cooking a simple but delicious pasta dish, hanging up some gold and silver decorations he found in the garage, and formally setting the dining table with their favorite red wine. On their trip to Italy last month they became obsessed with this wine, which resulted in her trying to fit as many bottles as she could into her luggage.

Pouring the wine into their glasses, Harry hears the faint sound of the front door opening and closing. Looking at the clock on the oven, he smiles to himself. “Right on time,” he mumbles under his breath while walking to the door with an excited hop in his step.

“Hello love,” he greets her, wrapping her up in his arms and placing a kiss to her forehead. “How was the spa?”

“Mmm, could have stayed there all day,” she says into his chest. Slowly moving her head so her chin is resting against his cross necklace, her eyes meeting his. “Thank you,” she says, reaching up to place a quick kiss to his lips.

Smiling down at her, he unwraps his arms, grabbing her hand to lead her into the dinning room. Her eyes dance around every detail in the room. From the beautifully set table to the shimmery decorations, her eyes can’t seem to focus on one thing.

“Wow Harry. It’s beautiful,” she beams while leaning into his side.

“Come on, let’s celebrate,” Harry says, taking her hand and leading her to the table. Grabbing their wine glasses, he hands one to her.

Raising his glass to hers. “To one year,” he says, smiling and tapping their glasses together.

After finishing dinner they continue to sit around the table, drinking wine while laughing and sharing their favorite memories over the last year. She was currently laughing at Harry’s dramatic retelling of the time she forgot she had invited him over for dinner and a movie, before they had officially started dating. She answered the door in a bubbling face mask and eyes as wide as the pepperonis on the mostly eaten pizza in her living room.

As her laughs start to die down, Harry looks at her with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. She eventually makes eye contact with him again and they just look at each other, smiling like idiots and absorbing the other’s happiness.

“I have a gift for you,” Harry says breaking the silence.

“What?! Another one?!”

Harry simply nods while releasing a quiet “Mhm,” and slowly standing up.

“Okay now I’m starting to feel bad. The only gift I had planned for you was a pretty amazing blow job followed by some equally amazing sex.”

Harry looks back at her with raised eyebrows and amusement dancing in his eyes. “Now those are two gifts I am very excited for.” He leans down to place a kiss to her lips before walking out of the dining room.

Sitting up straight, she places her wine glass on the table and straightens her top. Popping his head in from around the corner, he flashes his bright smile at her. “Close your eyes,” he instructs.

With a silly smile, she closes her eyes. She hears Harry walk back into the room and around her chair. She could feel him standing across from her. She raises one eyebrow, hoping he is watching her, to tell him she is getting a little impatient.

Harry speaks in a silky smooth voice, “Ok… open your eyes.”

She opens them slowly, first focusing on his face before looking down at the two picture frames held in his hands. She takes in a small gasp at the warm golden images of her. Instantly her mind transports her back to that afternoon. She had accidentally fallen asleep on the couch while Harry brought in the bags and towels they had brought for their day on the boat. She remembers how gorgeous he looked when she woke up from her nap. How the sun was shining into the room, casting a bronze hue around them, and the white curtains blowing with the wind.

She stands up from her chair, taking a step closer to him, and slowly running her finger tips along the frames.

“Harry... these are beautiful.” She could feel her cheeks starting to heat up and the prickle in the back of her eyes becoming stronger. She rarely ever cries, and is fighting back the feeling to do so right now. This is how Harry sees her, glowing and radiant. She looks up into his eyes, but before she could speak Harry interjects. “I just wanted a reminder of how beautiful you are. Then I realized how incredible these would look in the living room, and how much they make me smile. I wanted to share that with you.”

Placing her hand at the back of his neck, she reaches up to kiss him. Holding him against her lips, trying to transfer all of her feelings into that kiss. She pulls back and looks up into his emerald eyes. “Thank you,” she whispers, lips gently brushing over his.

Grabbing the frames out of his hand, she gently leans them against the wall. Taking his hand in hers, she begins to lead him out of the room. “We can hang those up tomorrow. Right now I have some gifts I need to give you.”

Thank you so much for reading! 💕

Can We Fall?

The Night Before

Shut Up And Kiss Me

#i will be throwing my phone and computer into the ocean now #it was nice knowing all of you

424 notes · View notes

pines-troz · 3 years

Text

Those We Hold Dear - Animaniacs/Pinky and The Brain Oneshot

Summary: An introverted Brain finds himself feeling lost during the holiday party on the Warner Movie Lot. He manages to find some respite upon finding a pool table in the abandoned rec room. When Yakko unexpectedly invites himself in, the two engage in some casual conversation, then slowly open themselves up as they talk about their loved ones.

This story includes mild doses of Brinky and Non-Binary Wakko with he/they pronouns.

Word Count: 7,969

TW: Brief mentions of trauma, animal testing, and alcohol

Includes spoilers from the Animaniacs Reboot and references to the Pinky and The Brain spin-off cartoon.

Special thanks to @themurphyzone for beta reading!

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714374

Beginning AN: This fic was written because there aren’t enough stories where Pinky and The Brain interact with the Warners, and I feel like there’s so much untapped potential in terms of interesting character dynamics and I wanted to explore that with this story. I hope you enjoy this self-indulgent and very heartwarming fanfic.

As Christmas time drew near, The Warner Brothers movie lot was bustling with the spirit of the holiday season. Studios were dressed in Christmas decorations, and classic Christmas songs played over the speakers. And in the heart of the studio, the WB office was holding a special holiday party for the cast and crew of the Animaniacs reboot. Pinky and the Brain were among the invited guests, and the two mice strolled through the movie lot together as they made their way to the party.

Brain shook his head, still in disbelief that he and Pinky worked as part-time actors, and even more so that they were asked to return for the Animaniacs reboot after the original show had been off the air for over twenty years.

The small mouse remembered back in the early 1990s, when one of his initial plans for world domination involved him and Pinky breaking into the Warner Bros. studio to broadcast his homemade propaganda film. But while they infiltrated the studio, they were spotted by a small group of writers. When Brain explained in earnest that he and Pinky were ‘genetically altered lab mice trying to take over the world’, the writers were so amused and inspired that they brought the lab mice over to meet the studio executives and were hired right on the spot.

While having to act out failed plans to take over the world felt like a slap to the face at times, Brain quickly found the positive aspects of working on a popular television show. He and Pinky worked on set a few days a week (which saved them from having to undergo more painful experiments from the scientists at Acme Labs), they got along well with the other cast, crew, and various workers on the Warner movie lot. The mice also received truck loads of fan mail and fan art from viewers (and they put in the effort to express their gratitude by writing back to as many letters as they could), attended conventions even long after the show went off the air, and were invited to cast parties.

As much as Brain enjoyed seeing Pinky having a ball at the cast parties, he himself admittedly detested large social gatherings. If world domination was at stake, then Brain would be more motivated to be sociable; rubbing elbows with politicians, manipulating powerful individuals to do his bidding, and being one step closer to planetary conquest.

But Brain had no schemes up his sleeve. No ulterior motives, hidden agendas, or feasible plans for world conquest tonight. The mouse had put off all plans to take over the world off the table during the holiday season after having read Pinky’s unsent letter to Santa that fateful Christmas. From that moment on, Brain vowed to ignore his own lofty ambitions during the holidays and to put more focus on making Pinky happy.

The mice made sure to dress appropriately for the holiday party. Brain donned a red sweater and dark green pants. Simple festive colors, but nothing overly garish. Pinky, however, went above and beyond in his party attire, as he wore a green dress with candy cane prints all over and sparkly red shoes. Once they walked past the office doors, they approached the elevator. Brain retrieved his limb-enhancing device and pressed the button, which opened up the doors, and the two mice entered the elevator. Brain used the device again to hit the button for floor nine, and the elevator moved upwards.

“Oh this is going to be so much fun, Brain!” Pinky chirped, flapping his hands with excitement.

“Well if you’re happy, then I’m happy.” Brain affirmed, keeping a calm and orderly demeanor.

Once they reached the right floor, they exited the elevator and approached the large event space where the party was held. As they approached the doorway, they were immediately greeted by Yakko, who wore a red and white striped blazer in addition to his usual brown slacks.

“Hey, Pinky and the Brain!” Yakko greeted as he waved at them. “How are the fan favorites doing?”

“We’re doing well for ourselves, Yakko-” Brain’s response was interrupted when he felt a giant wet smooch on his left cheek. He looked over his left to see Pinky smiling at him. The smaller mouse looked at his roommate with a shocked and irritated expression.

“Pinky!” Brain berated his companion, as his cheeks began to flare up. “I told you, no frivolous displays of affection outside of the lab!”

“Poit! I’m sorry Brain, but, you were standing right under the mistletoe, and I just couldn’t help myself!” Pinky explained with a joyous giggle as Brain wiped off the saliva from the side of his face. The intelligent mouse looked up above only to find that dreaded yuletide plant taped to the doorframe.

“Hey sibs! The power couple just arrived!” Yakko addressed his younger siblings. Brain fumed at the eldest Warner boy, who shrugged and flashed a playful smile back at the mouse.

Dot arrived on cue, followed by Wakko, who greedily shoveled all the contents of the plate of appetizers (and the plate) into their mouth. The younger Warners dressed appropriately for the festive occasion. Wakko wearing an oversized blue sweater with a sequin snowman, and their iconic backwards red cap had elf ears taped to each side. In addition to her pink skirt, Dot wore a white sweater with a colorful Christmas tree and a reindeer antler headband.

“Pinky!” Dot greeted happily, skipping merrily towards the taller mouse. “Oh you look so adorable!”

Pinky jumped for joy as the Warner sister picked him up. “Oh, why thank you Dot. Zort! I actually had a little help from Brain. He used his knit-o-matic machine to put the dress together!”

Dot turned her attention over to Brain, who was still standing beneath her. “Hello Brain! Don’t go thinking that I forgot about you.” She said, giving a couple pats to his large head.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Brain bantered, but lost his guard when the middle Warner sibling scooped him into their hands.

“Oh what joy, Brain is here!” Wakko cheered, lifting Brain up in the air as he twirled around. “I was thinking about going around the movie lot and belching my favorite Christmas carols later tonight. Would you care to join me?”

“A tempting offer, but I’m afraid I have to decline.” Brain gently rejected.

“Okay, but the offer still stands if you change your mind!” Wakko insisted.

“Very well. Now would you be so kind as to put me down? I’m going to head on over to the refreshments table.” The mouse said.

“Say, I was going to grab some snacks too! And maybe we can eat over at the table together!” Wakko proclaimed, carrying the mouse as he made their way to the refreshments table.

“Well, I would be delighted to keep you company.” Brain answered honestly.

The mouse tried to keep his favoritism hidden, but of all the cast members he worked with, he enjoyed being with the Warners the most. While they may be a nuisance to the humans on the movie lot, they were quite friendly with most of the animal actors on the set. Brain was quite enamored with Yakko’s comedic banter, Wakko’s silliness, and Dot’s wit and charm, and while they playfully teased him on occasions, it was never out of any malice. But the one aspect he enjoyed the most was that they were never judgemental of him or Pinky.

Brain picked up the smallest plate from the stack and started picking out one of each cheese, a deviled egg, the second-to-last pig in a blanket, two baby carrots, and a jumbo shrimp. Wakko swooped in from behind, taking the last the last pig in a blanket and gobbled it up.

Brain looked over at the line of wine glasses and the various wine bottles behind them and figured that he could go for a nice glass of red wine. Despite his short stature, Brain found an easier way to access the alcohol as he spotted Ralph the security guard (who may or may not be off-duty), grabbing a handful of jumbo shrimp.

“Pardon me, Ralph.” Brain addressed the dim-witted security guard.

Ralph turned his head and looked around for a few moments before spotting Brain. “Duh, oh hi Blaine.”

“Actually, it’s Brain.” The small mouse corrected. “Could you do me a small favor and pour me a glass of the pinot noir.”

The security guard looked over at the wine bottles, scratching his head in bewilderment.

“It’s the reddish bottle with the picture of purple grapes on it” Brain curtly explained in layman’s terms

“Oh, uh right!” The imbecilic security guard affirmed. He grabbed the specific bottle and poured a little too much wine into the glass, filling it almost to the top. The mouse did not care that he had an excessive amount of wine. Lord knows that he needs enough alcohol in his system to get through this social gathering.

“Thank you, my good man.” Brain said politely.

“But wait a minute, how are you gonna drink from the glass?” The security guard asked.

“Already accounted for.” Brain reached into his pocket and pulled out a green swirly straw custom made for himself.

Wakko walked over to Brain, carrying two full trays of appetizers. The middle Warner sibling marveled at the swirly straw. “You have great tastes in straws.” He carefully picked up Brain and placed him on top of their red hat. Wakko managed to carry his own plates, Brain’s plate and the wine glass with relative ease as he waltzed over to the table.

“Thank you, Wakko.” Brain said gratefully.

“Your welcome! Oh, I was wondering if you wanted to hear about how I found myself in Paris?” The middle child asked. “I want to tell someone else besides my siblings about all the fun adventures I had.”

“Yes, I would love to hear some amusing anecdotes from your vacation.” Brain replied. The intelligent mouse was well aware that Wakko can be very passionate and talkative when it came to their interests, so he decided to validate the middle child with attentive ears.

Brain listened intently as Wakko continued to talk about their trip. The intelligent mouse felt relieved that he wasn’t the one who had to initiate the conversation. He could simply provide Wakko his undivided attention and listen to them reminisce over their trip to Paris. This was splendid!

“I visited the Eiffel Tower, The Louvre, and Notre Dame, but only from the outside.” Wakko said wistfully.

“The fire of Notre Dame was awfully devastating.” Brain added. “Forgive me if this comes off as a boast, but when Pinky and I visited Paris years ago we were fortunate enough to go inside the cathedral and climb the tower.”

“Really!” Wakko exclaimed, who was rather excited by Brain’s vacation story. “Oh, do you have any pictures?”

“Well of course! Just let me just find the vacation album on my phone.” Brain said, as he tried to retrieve his smartphone from his pocket.

“Oh, I forgot to mention how wonderful the crepes were!” Wakko added. “I had strawberry crepes, banana and nutella crepes, some egg and cheese crepes,”

But Wakko’s infodumping came to a crashing halt when Yakko stormed over to the table. “Wakko, did you take the last pig in a blanket?” The Warner brother interrogated.

The middle Warner sibling glanced guiltily towards Brain then back at their sibling. “Maybe?” The eldest Warner still held his suspicious glare at him, until Wakko finally gave in. “Yeah…”

“I knew it!” Yakko declared as he proceeded to put his sibling in a headlock, dragging them away from the table and into the center of the room. Wakko broke free and a battle between the older Warner siblings broke out.

“Oh, this oughta be rich!” Dot devilishly commented. She quickly grabbed her smartphone from her pocket and filmed the action.

Pinky was thrilled by the sudden action and further enabled the sibling rivalry. “Go, go! Give ‘em the ol’ one-two!” The mouse laughed maniacally as he punched the air. “Narf!”

Brain ruefully shook his head at the sibling shenanigans that took place. The small mouse knew better than to get involved, lest he wanted to be squished like a pancake or smacked so hard that he would crash onto the drywall. He found himself all alone again. He finished up his plate of appetizers when he noticed the new CEO, Rita Nortia, taking her place on the other side of the table.

The mouse suddenly felt compelled to speak with her. After all, she did play a significant part in hiring him and Pinky back for the reboot when they could have been cast off like the majority of his fellow cast members from the original show.

“Alright Brain, this is going to be a long party and you have to at least try to be sociable.” He told himself. The mouse then took a considerably long sip of wine to work the courage to speak to his new boss.

“Hello, Ms. Nortia.” Brain addressed, trying his best to sound friendly.

The CEO looked over at the mouse with an indifferent expression. “Wait a minute, I know you, you’re one of the mice playing second fiddle to those pesky Warners….Bran, is it?”

“Actually, it’s The Brain,” The mouse corrected, but suddenly changed his tone as he did not want to come off as bossy in front of his boss. “but I’m perfectly content with being addressed as Brain, if that’s most convenient for you. A-and I wanted to thank you again for including Pinky and myself in the reboot.”

“Sure, sure. You two were one of the more memorable parts of the original show.” Rita Norita replied, sounding rather unenthused. After a moment of awkward silence between the two, the CEO spoke up again. “Was there anything else you wanted to say?”

Brain was sweating nervously, feeling like a total waste of space. He could tell that she was a busy woman who was more occupied with work-related interests. The mouse tried his hardest to come up with an interesting topic of discussion. The weather? No, too cliche. The hottest Netflix shows? No way. He couldn’t bring up the competition in front of his boss. Those ridiculous Tik Tok videos that Pinky wouldn’t stop blabbering about? If he didn’t understand the appeal of those, what were the chances that the CEO would. The only other thing he could possibly bring up was-

“So, how about those sports?” Brain asked with a nervous smile.

Rita Norita stared blankly at the mouse. “What about them.”

Brain was caught tongue-tied. He didn’t know enough about the current state of any American sports team, so he decided to take a leap of faith and try to discuss the one sport he loved.

“Well, uh, would you be interested in hearing about the beauty and intricacies of rhythmic gymnastics?” Brain asked with a sheepish smile.

As the CEO was about to give another dry response, she was interrupted when a group of sharply dressed business people walked over to her.

“Ms. Norita, we have some very important business information to discuss with you.” One of them said.

“Finally, a riveting topic of discussion.” She exulted, immediately getting up from her seat. She shot a quick glance at the mouse. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I have more pressing matters to tend to.”

The CEO left the table with the other white-collar workers, leaving Brain to his own devices. The mouse propped his head up as he stared into his empty plate of appetizers, desperately trying to forget the mortifying conversation. If dying from embarrassment was possible, then Brain would already be in Heaven surrounded by an angelic choir of Pinkys.

“Hey Brain!”

Upon hearing the cockney accent he was so familiar with, he looked over his shoulder only to find Pinky taking off his dress and diving straight into the punch bowl. Through the clear glass, Pinky was happily swimming underneath the punch for a few moments. Once he broke through the surface, the tall mouse was giggling contentedly and he propped himself up on the side of the bowl to talk to his roommate.

“Oh Brain, you should try this!” The buck-toothed mouse called out. “The water is so refreshing!”

“No thank you, Pinky.” Brain replied, shielding his face from his roommate. He took another peek at the taller mouse. Pinky looked like a complete buffoon, but he looked like he was having the time of his life, swimming in the punch bowl without a care in the world. Brain, on the other hand, felt completely lost and isolated despite being surrounded by a sea of party-goers.

Brain walked away, trying his best to participate in small talk. Things seemed to look up when the Mime arrived.

“I suppose making small talk with someone who can’t talk back is better than not making small talk at all.” Brain pondered.

“You there, Mime!” Brain approached the silent performer. The Mime looked back at Brain and smiled back, giving him a friendly wave. The mouse’s self-esteem was starting to rebound.

“Say, do you want to hear a science joke?” Brain asked. The Mime gave an eager nod in response.

“Okay, well here it goes: One tectonic plate was walking along, bumps into another tectonic plate and said ‘Oops, sorry, my fault!’” Brain began to laugh heartily at his own joke, closing his eyes as he chuckled.

Once his laughter wore off, Brain looked over at the Mime simply shook his head while wearing a confused frown, shaking his head. The mouse assumed that the Mime did not get the joke.

The Brain felt defeated and gave a beleaguered sigh. “Well, I apologize for wasting your time.” The small mouse placed his hands into his pockets and walked off.

The intelligent mouse felt lost. With no plan for world domination to focus on, there was no important reason to mingle with the other guests. He decided to find the Warners and seek companionship from them. But he was disappointed when he witnessed the three keeping Ralph occupied in an intense game of ‘Monkey in the Middle’. The Warners wore mischievous smiles as they threw the security guard’s cap around much to the frustration of the bumbling officer. Brain could not bring himself to join in their merriment. Without his robotic man-suit, he could not possibly bring any meaningful contribution to the fun and would only stick out as a useless fifth wheel.

And he did not have the courage to try to strike up a friendly conversation with the other party-goers. His brief talks with Rita Norita and The Mime were proof that even when he shared his interests and musings to them, they could never reciprocate because they’re not on the same intellectual wavelength as he was.

No, he was only fooling himself. Perhaps the reason why felt high and dry was that he just could not relate to other people.

Brain watched Pinky, now back in his Christmas-themed dress, entertaining a few guests with his spit bubbles. The small group laughed at his ridiculous display. The taller mouse was completely in his element, charming people with his ‘fun-fun silly-willy’ antics. That feeble-minded fool made it look so easy.

“Perhaps Pinky is better off with other people.”

Brain furiously shook his head at the awful thought. “No, no, no. You’re just exhausted from attempting to socialize, that’s all.” He told himself. “Yes. All I need is a break, a place where I could temporarily wind down and recharge my energy before returning to the festivities.”

Brain walked down the hall in search for a place to ponder.

As he wandered down the hallway, he discovered an empty recreation room complete with a billiards table, a dart board, a stack of used board games, and a leather sofa. The pool table was pristine, with the fifteen balls gathered in their triangular shape and the cue ball standing on the other side. Brain decided to take the opportunity to play a game of pool against himself. The mouse picked up an unsharpened pencil from the bureau, climbed up the leg of the pool table and made his way to the top.

The mouse hopped off the wooden edge and onto the green walked baize, the tender felt brushing up against his feet with each step. Once he approached the cue ball, the mouse used the unsharpened end of the pencil and struck the white ball as hard as he could. He was not surprised that the cue ball lightly struck the top third of the fifteen balls ever so slightly.

“This is going to take a while…” Brain muttered to himself. “Fortunately, I don’t have anything better to do.”

The mouse observed the playing field, and noticed a solid red ball lingering near a corner pocket. Charging his pencil against the cue ball much harder this time, he saw the white ball glide down the table, hitting the red ball right into the pocket. Now all he had to do was strike the other solid-color balls into the pockets.

Fifteen minutes had passed since he started his solitary game of pool, and he only had three balls left. Wiping off the beads of sweat from his forehead, he looked over at the clock that was perched above the sofa. The mouse doubted that the other party-goers would be aware of his absence. Maybe Pinky would be too busy mingling with the other guests to even realize that he was gone.

“Some party, huh?”

Brain was startled at the sudden inquiry, his ears perking upwards. He turned around only to find Yakko Warner leaning against the doorway.

“Yakko….” The mouse grumbled. He feared that the boy would continue teasing him by bringing up the incident under the mistletoe. “Shouldn’t you be off terrorizing a certain psychiatrist?”

“Oh, you mean Dr. Scratchinsniff? He won’t be dropping by until around seven.” The eldest Warner sibling explained as he waltzed into the room. “So what are you doing here all by your lonesome?”

“As a reserved and introverted soul, social gatherings aren’t my cup of tea.” Brain confessed. “If world domination was on the line, then I would be more involved. But being forced to make idle prattle with co-workers in a secluded space can be quite tiresome.”

“I gotcha.” Yakko nodded, seeming to understand Brain’s plight.

“And how did someone as sociable as yourself wander astray from the festivities?” Brain inquired.

“I had to use the john.” Yakko answered frankly, pointing his thumb towards the door. “I was going to return to the party, but I heard the sound of a pool game going on and just had to investigate.”

“Excellent detective work, Hercule Yakko.” Brain remarked, to which Yakko chuckled in response.

“Say, can I join in?” The eldest Warner asked as he walked over to the racks. “It’s been a while since I played pool and you look like you could use a little company.”

“The more the merrier.” Brain dryly responded as he struck the cue ball with his pencil.

Yakko found a suitable cue stick and walked over beside Brain. He observed the pool table, noting the striped balls outnumbered the solid balls.

“So I’ll be aiming for the striped ones then?” Yakko asked.

“Correct.” Brain responded defeatedly. While he wished to finish up his solo game, he didn’t have it in him to tell the eldest Warner to leave.

Yakko carefully aimed his cue rack at the cue ball and fired away. He managed to hit two striped balls straight into the pocket. He then made another successful shot and hit two more striped balls into the opposite pocket. Feeling confident and theatrical, Yakko turned around and managed to hit another striped ball into a pocket without looking. He looked over at the playing field and back at The Brain. “Well, you got trouble my friend.” He quipped.

Brain looked up at Yakko for a moment before looking back at the pool with a grimace. After a moment of awkward silence, the eldest Warner spoke up again “Get it? Because we’re playing pool and I was referring to-”

“Yes, yes, I’ve seen The Music Man before Yakko, there’s no need to explain the joke.” Brain interrupted.

“So was the joke not funny?” Yakko asked with a twinge of worry.

“The joke was perfectly fine.” Brain assured upon noticing the boy’s sudden anxiousness. “I’m simply frustrated with my current state in the game and fear that the outcome won’t be in my favor.”

“Oh, is it because you’re a mouse? I can try to make some accommodations so that we’re playing on even grounds.” Yakko kindly suggested.

“No, no. The last thing I want is to be patronized and pitied.” Brain snapped, sounding more harsh than he intended.

Yakko backed off upon seeing the mouse’s frustration.“Okay, whatever floats your boat.” He replied defensively.

Brain’s face softened a bit, feeling guilty that he was a bit too hard on the boy. “If it’s any consolation, I have problems with my joke deliveries as well.” Brain lamented. “I tried telling The Mime a science joke earlier, but it fell flat.”

“Which one?” Yakko queried out of curiosity.

Brain fought his insecurities and mustered up the courage to tell the joke again. “One tectonic plate was walking around, he bumps into another tectonic plate and said-”

“‘Oops, I’m sorry, my fault’!” Yakko enthusiastically joined in as the punchline was delivered. The boy clapped his hands and started chuckling. “Ah, natural disaster humor.”

Brain softly smiled. Yakko missed this time around and Brain hopped back on the table, figuring out the best course of action to keep up with Yakko’s pool playing. After a couple minutes of playing in companionable silence, the intelligent mouse decided to throw an ice-breaker question to liven the mood.

“So Yakko, how have you and your siblings been doing lately?” The Brain asked in earnest.

“We’ve been doing swell!” Yakko answered in a chipper tone. “I mean, sure, we had our fair of challenges adapting to the current trends after being frozen in suspended animation for twenty-two years, but what can ya do?”

Brain looked a little concerned at the boy. The last time he and Pinky saw the Warners was in 1998, when they attended a cast party after filming of Wakko’s Wish had wrapped. During those years, Brain was consumed with his contributions to the age of the internet while Pinky attended his therapy sessions. All that time spent focusing on his world domination scheme and he forgot about his fellow cast members and all the good times they shared together. When Brain and Pinky received the fateful phone call from Warner Brothers that they and the Warners would be the only returning cast members for the Animaniacs reboot, he was worried that they would be mad at him for not keeping in touch. But when they arrived on set, the Warners were simply happy to see them again. But the Brain lost his train of thought when he heard Yakko speak up again.

“Not to mention the staggering amount of pop culture we’ve missed out on.” Yakko added. “Hey, did you know that there were two movie adaptations of How The Grinch Stole Christmas within the span of two decades?”

“Oh I’m well aware of that. Pinky actually dragged me to see both movies in the theaters.” Brain recalled. “And as you would expect, the feeble-minded fool thought they were cinematic masterpieces.”

“Outside of trying to stay relevant, we’ve been doing some fun sibling projects on the side, like this sculpture of Giuseppe Acrimboldo made entirely out of fruit!” Yakko happily reminisced.

“You mean, the famous sixteenth century Italian mannerist portrait artist Giuseppe Acrimboldo?” Brain inquired enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I managed to get a picture before that awful bun infestation got to him.” Yakko grabbed his phone and showed a picture of their sculpture.

“That’s quite impressive.” Brain marveled. While the mouse was not present during the awful bun infestation, he had heard stories of the incident from his co-workers. He could only imagine Pinky having a field day with the mass quantities of bunnies.

“I even had a whole song written about him too!” Yakko added.

“Well, I’m always eager to hear another one of your classic educational ditties, Yakko.” Brain encouraged. “I’m all ears.”

“I would if I could, but I forgot the majority of the lyrics.” Yakko forlornly replied. He picked up his cue rack and strategically planned his next move.

“Oh..” Bran uttered. The mouse tried to find another topic to bring up, but couldn’t help but think about the Warner siblings being locked away from the world for the second time. The mouse tried to bring up the topic as delicately as he could.

“Forgive me for prying, but can I ask you a question concerning your 22 year absence.” Brain carefully inquired.

“Sure!” Yakko acknowledged as he struck the cue ball, hitting the eight ball into the pocket and winning the game.

“Do you recall anything during your hibernation?” The mouse questioned.

“No, not really. The only thing I could remember was what happened before. After Wakko’s Wish wrapped, some studio bigwigs came up to me and my sibs. We were given the choice to either be cryogenically frozen or to be locked in the tower again. After thinking it over, I decided that being frozen in suspended animation was the better option. And the process wasn’t all that bad. It was like taking a really long nap.” Yakko answered truthfully. “And let me tell you, being frozen was a walk in the park compared to being trapped in the water tower for over sixty years.”

Brain’s ears drooped when he heard the sadness laced in Yakko’s voice.

“I love my sibs and would risk my life for them, but it was really hard having to watch over them without any assistance from the adults for decades.” The boy confessed. “I mean, I managed to get by just fine, but it was neither a bed or roses nor a pleasure cruise. During those years I had to come up with different ways to entertain my sibs and keep them occupied. I didn’t want them to start thinking about whether or not people missed them or were even aware that they’ve been cooped up for so long. One could say being trapped in that tower felt like-”

“Being an animal in a cage.” Brain quietly finished, feeling a deep sense of empathy for the boy.

Yakko stared at the mouse, amazed by how understanding he was of his past trauma. “Well, yeah…”

The Brain drew in a long breath and exhaled. “Believe it or not, I understand where you’re coming from.” He confessed, sitting on the edge of the pool table and holding the pencil in his arms.

The mouse could not believe what he was doing. In any other circumstance, Brain would never open up to his co-workers about his feelings or the past traumas he endured. Opening up meant being vulnerable. Being vulnerable meant feeling helpless and without control. He gripped the pencil tightly at the thought of not being completely in charge of himself. But Brain fought against his need to put up defensive barriers and decided to reveal his miserable and pitiful past if it meant providing the boy with some sense of solidarity.

“I was once a young field mouse who lived a carefree and happy existence with my parents out in the wild.” Brain reminisced. “But I was separated from my family at a tender age when a group of Acme Lab scientists abducted me from my tin-can home. From that day forward, I was imprisoned in the laboratory where I was subjected to cruel, emotionally-scarring experiments and used as fodder in the name of science and human curiosity.” His voice trembled as he exposed his past to the eldest Warner, but he soldiered on.

“The first friend I ever made was a hamster named Snowball, but when we went through the gene splicer, it had different effects on us. I gained advanced intelligence, while Snowball went mad with power, and we had a terrible falling out. But when it seemed that I was doomed to live the rest of my days isolated in the lab…” Brain paused for a moment and then continued. “But one day, a new lab mouse brought over to live with me in my cage. It was at that moment that Pinky entered into my life and...well, the rest is history.” He explained with a sad smile.

Yakko listened in with sympathetic ears. He never thought that anyone could relate to the pain of having his freedom stripped away and being locked against his will. But he also admired the mouse’s courage to tell his story anyways.

“Pinky really was my saving grace.” Brain admitted, aware of the affection in his tone. “His presence made being stuck in the lab more bearable. Sure, he may be imbecilic and dim-witted, but he’s also loyal, compassionate, and the best friend I could ever ask for.” After praising Pinky’s positive aspects, Brain’s smile slowly faded. “But sometimes I wonder why Pinky would want to be my friend, and other times where I feel like I don’t deserve to be his friend.”

“Well, how come?” Yakko cautiously inquired.

“Years ago, I promised Pinky that if I ruled the world, I would make it into a better place. A kinder place for social outcasts and marginalized individuals like him. But after so many years of trying and putting in the work, my destiny is still far from reach. And yet, he’s still standing by my side. It’s just...I don’t know what Pinky sees in me.” Brain sadly explained as he cradled the pencil in his arms. “Perhaps he’s much better off without me…” He sighed, letting the awful confession escape his lips.

Yakko sadly frowned at the downtrodden mouse, but he quickly knew how to cheer him up. “Oh I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Well why not?” The mouse somberly asked.

“Maybe the reason why Pinky is attached to the hip is because he loves you.” Yakko suggested.

“Perhaps he does. His unquestioning loyalty to me is proof of that.” Brain pondered aloud.

“...and that you love him back.” Yakko added with a sly smile.

“What?” Brain cried out, sharply turning his head to face Yakko. “That’s preposterous! I don’t love Pinky, I merely….tolerate him.”

“Uh huh,” Yakko nodded, not buying his co-worker’s fib. “I guess your toleration must be pretty strong then.”

Yakko placed the cue stick on the side of the pool and walked over towards the mouse.“I mean, who else would sacrifice their chance at world domination on Christmas, go to the depths of h-e-double hockey sticks to save the guy after he sold his soul so you could rule the world, reunite him with his entire family after years of separation, save him from quicksand by embracing your wild side, teach him about the Constitution and upholding the values that make up our country’s democracy, and tend to his aid after the poor guy got pulverized by some crummy humans.” The eldest Warner detailed as he counted all of Brain’s deeds on each finger. Brain’s ears drooped as he heard him recall all of his past heroics when it came to helping the friend he loved so dearly.

“That’s going above and beyond for someone you merely tolerate, don’t you think?” Yakko concluded.

“W-who told you all that?” Brain blurted in disbelief.

“Pinky did.” Yakko answered honestly. “Why, just a few minutes after you left, Pinky started talking about all the great and amazing things you did for him. If you don’t believe me, the proof is in the pudding.” He fished out his phone from his pocket and showed Brain a video, with Pinky’s gleaming smile on the thumbnail. Yakko pressed play.

Pinky was gathered around a few of the party guests on the couch. Wakko and Dot sat closely by his left, and Jay Pac Le East Tha Rapper by his right.

“Poit! And when it came down to choosing the world or me, Brain chose me and decided to compete in rhythmic gymnastics to save my soul!” Pinky explained enthusiastically to his enchanted audience. “Oh you should have seen Brain! He looked so stunning in his marvelous blue spandex, prancing about oh so gracefully with his string-on-a-stick, and he scored a perfect ten! But that awful, no-good Mr. Itch cheated by rigging the competition in his favor and it seemed like Brain and I were doomed to be separated forever!”

Wakko and Dot gasped in shock and instinctively grabbed onto each other for comfort. Even Jay Pac was deeply invested in the story.

“But it turned out that he didn’t deliver on his original promise to give me my radish rose whatchamawhozit, so I was able to be with Brain again!” Pinky happily concluded.

Wakko stood up and applauded. “Oh how I love a happy ending!”

“Wow, my respect for Brain just went through the roof.” Jay Pac commented.

“You know, I never realized how cool Brain was until just now.” Dot admitted.

“He sure is!” Pinky gushed. “Brain is smart, he never gives up on his dreams, he wants what’s best for the world, and he’s the best friend I could ever ask for. Zort! I love him so much, and I know that he loves me too!”

“Pinky, can you tell us another story about The Brain?” Wakko asked enthusiastically, like a child wanting to hear another bedtime story.

“Pretty please, Pinky!!” Dot begged, giving her cutest pout and fluttering her puppy-dog eyes.

“Of course!” Pinky answered gleefully as he leapt up in the air and landed back on the couch. “Oh! I should tell you all about the time he helped me reunite with my mum, my dad, and my sis!”

As the video ended, tears started to pool in Brain’s eyes. He roughly scrubbed them away before they could fall, not allowing himself to become more vulnerable than he already felt. “Perhaps I don’t just tolerate him. Dare I say, I even like Pinky.” Brain half-confessed. He knew that he loved Pinky dearly, but he would never bring himself to verbalize his feelings.

“Actions speak louder than words, buddy.” Yakko retorted. “But I totally get where you’re comin’ from, though. Wakko and Dot mean the world to me.”

“Even though you wrestled your own sibling over something as petty as taking the last of your favorite appetizer?” Brain mentioned sardonically.

“Alright, so I have a problem managing my Cain instinct, guilty as charged.” Yakko answered.

“Sure, we drive each other bonkers sometimes, but at the end of the day, they’re still my sibs and I love them more than they could even know.” The boy smiled as he talked about his dearest siblings.

“But I still can’t help but wonder, what might happen in the future, after the reboot.” Yakko pondered with concern. “What if Wakko and Dot decide to go out in the world and do their own thing? Would they still need me? Would they want me around? And I don’t know how I’d do without ‘em because they’re the only family I’ve got.”

Brain felt his heart go out to Yakko. While the boy can be a nuisance and a smart alec, there was a lot of good in him. But he could also understand the boy’s fears. Yakko was as strongly attached to his siblings and his whole life revolved maintaining that relationship. The mouse pondered to himself until he found the best way to alleviate the boy’s worries.

The small mouse walked over to the eldest Warner brother and gently placed his hand on top of his. “Well, there may come a time when the three of you will go your separate ways and lead independent lives, but no matter how far apart you are, you’ll always maintain that strong familial bond.”

Yakko gave Brain an intrigued look. “What makes you so sure?”

“Pinky and I raised a son together.” Brain answered with a small smile.

“Since when?” Yakko asked with a baffled look on his face.

“It happened back in the late 90s. Roman Numeral One, or Romy for short. I initially planned to make a clone of myself and use him for global conquest, but one of Pinky’s errant toenails was muddled in with my DNA sample, thus creating a clone that modeled after the two of us.” Brain explained, still smiling as he reminisced. “Once Romy reached the age of reason, he departed from the lab and moved on to make a life for himself. Fortunately, Pinky and I are still on good terms with our son, and we would call him every now and again, just to see how he’s doing. And even though our boy is out in the world pursuing his own dreams, we still love him dearly and learned to maintain our familial bond despite the long distance between us.”

“So whatever happens in the future, I’m certain that you and your siblings will still be as thick as thieves.” Brain assured, giving the eldest Warner sibling reassuring pats on his hand. Yakko smiled back at the mouse’s kind gesture.

“But if you’re still uncertain about the future, I’ll guarantee this to you,” Brain added. “If I become the ruler of- no, no. When I become the ruler of the world, my palace doors will always be open for you and your siblings. And if any of you ever feel lost or lonely, Pinky and I will be more than willing to grant you companionship.” Brain offered his small hand out to the boy.

Yakko was eager with the proposition. “Well Brain, I was already rooting for you to take over the world, but now I’m twice as invested! You got yourself a deal!” The eldest Warner enthusiastically shook the mouse’s hand. The Brain gave a hearty chuckle, amazed at the boy’s excitement and encouragement.

“And Brain,” Yakko looked at the small mouse. “I’m really glad we had this talk...and thanks for everything.”

Brain could tell that Yakko rarely opened up about his personal issues and musings to others, so not to trouble them or cause concern. But he could tell just how grateful the boy was for understanding and providing him with the comfort he needed.

“You’re welcome, Yakko.” Brain quietly replied.

“Well, I think that’s enough emotionally heavy conversations for one night.” Yakko commented, trying to sound as laid-back as possible.

“Agreed. You know, I think I’m ready to return to the party and make a more admirable attempt at socializing.” Brain said with confidence.

“That’s the spirit!” Yakko praised, giving him a thumbs up.

As Brain and Yakko were putting away the billiards equipment, they heard three sets of footsteps approaching the rec room. Sure enough, it was Pinky, followed by Wakko and Dot.

“Oh, there you two are! Narf!” Pinky exclaimed.

“So this is where you two have been.” Dot addressed her brother and the mouse.

“Yep, just us guys playing some pool.” Yakko answered half-honestly as he gestured towards his smaller companion. “You could say that we were getting along swimmingly.”

Upon hearing the dad joke, Wakko and Dot retrieved their pun guns and shot their older brother on sight. Brain saw the yellow lasers fly through the room and hit Yakko, causing him to fall over on impact. The mouse looked on with concern.

“I’m fine.” Yakko assured The Brain despite the obvious pain he was in.

Brain returned his attention to his roommate and the other Warner siblings. “So what shenanigans have you three rascals been up to during our absence?” He inquired.

“We gained access to the CEO’s movie screening room!” Dot answered.

“There’s a big screen tv, a comfy leather couch, a snack bar, and everything!” Wakko added enthusiastically.

“Good work sibs!” Yakko complimented as he got back up on his feet.

“Troz! And now that we found you two, we can all go there and watch The Grinch together!” Pinky joyfully declared.

“Which one?” Yakko and The Brain asked in unison, knowing that there were multiple adaptations of the classic story and both secretly hoping that it was the 1966 animated special.

“The animated one, of course!” Pinky cheerfully replied.

“You need to be more specific, Pinky.” Brain added, praying that his friend was referring to the classic television special as opposed to the bland Illumination movie.

“Oh, it’s the one with the Boris Karloff narration and the lovely songs!” Pinky gushed as he hugged himself.

“Thank Heavens.” Brain replied, relieved that his roommate was referring to the former. “We would be delighted to accompany you three, right Yakko?”

“Oh absolutely!” Yakko replied. He carefully picked up Brain and placed him in the palm of his left hand before walking over to the others. He then knelt down and offered Pinky a ride on his right hand, to which he happily accepted.

As Yakko followed his younger siblings to the private theater, he joined his hands together, bridging the divide between the two laboratory mice. Pinky immediately leapt over to Brain, enveloping him in a warm and welcoming hug. Brain decided not to recoil from Pinky’s affection and accepted the embrace.

“Oh it’s good to see you again Brain!” Pinky exclaimed. “I missed you so much since you left, and I was getting worried that I was never going to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too, Pinky.” Brain kindly remarked. “I just needed to recharge after socializing. You know that I would never abandon my best friend in the whole world, right?”

“Your best friend? Where?” Pinky shouted worriedly as he looked over each shoulder.

Brain rolled his eyes at his friend’s stupidity. “It’s you, Pinky. In addition to being my roommate and my assistant, you’re my best friend in the whole world.”

“Naarf.” Pinky awed, his eyes glistening with wonder. Overwhelmed with joy, the taller mouse decided to give his intelligent roommate an extra squeeze. “Well what a coincidence! It just so happens that you’re my best friend in the whole world, Brain!”

“I know, Pinky.” Brain muttered as he patted the taller mouse’s back. “I know.”

Unbeknownst to both mice, the Warners smiled warmly as they witnessed the sweet exchange.

The Warners and the lab mice entered the private theater. Dot retrieved Pinky and the two went over to the couch, where she placed a pillow over her lap, giving Pinky a place to sit. Brain managed to get the Blu-Ray player running as Wakko grabbed a stockpile of snacks. Yakko turned off the lights to provide a more theatrical experience. Yakko carefully held Brain as he plopped down on the couch, sitting between his younger siblings. Yakko moved his hand over to Dot, who gently held Brain before placing him on the pillow alongside Pinky.

As the Christmas special started, Pinky scooted over to Brain to sit closer to him. Feeling Pinky’s presence and taking into account that they were nearly enveloped in darkness, Brain lifted himself and placed a gentle kiss on Pinky’s cheek. After settling himself back down, he carefully wrapped his arm around his roommate’s waist and pulled him closer. The taller mouse was taken aback by his roommate’s actions. Pinky stared at his best friend, who lovingly gazed at him with a soft smile. Brain couldn’t verbalize the love he held for Pinky, but he hoped his kind physical gestures spoke a thousand words. Pinky beamed at Brain in response and wrapped his arm around him. The two mice continued to gaze into each other’s eyes for a few moments longer before returning their attention to the television.

Additional AN: Looking back on Animaniacs and the Pinky and the Brain spin-off as a person in her late-twenties, I’ve become fully aware of how both The Brain and Yakko deeply care about their loved ones to the point where they’re scared of the thought of being separated from them or seeing them hurt in any way.

Yakko is so attached to Wakko and Dot, pretty much raised them at the tender age of 14, so I feel like he would have this lingering fear of being alone. Whether he’s separated from them or has the idea that they wouldn’t need him anymore. The reboot establishes Yakko’s insecurities of caring about what other people think and that he may not be as funny as he presents himself to be. I found this to be a fascinating aspect of his character, and I wanted to play around with that in the fic.

The Brain, on the other hand, loves Pinky. Even if he can’t bring himself to admit it due to how emotionally constipated he is, his actions speak for him. Brain reading Pinky’s letter to Santa and being so moved that Pinky thinks so highly of him and is so supportive of him that he backs out of taking over the world even though he had the whole world under his command, The Brain literally going to hades to bring Pinky back because being the ruler of the world isn’t the same without him, Brain going out of his way to reunite Pinky with his family (even if it was for a scheme) and even using the gene splicer on them so they could understand each other, and Brain tending to Pinky’s aid when he’s beaten up by humans for being a mouse and changing his motives of world conquest to make the world and better and kinder place for Pinky and others who feel small. The reboot also has more moments where Brain chooses Pinky over a future version of himself, rescuing Pinky from being enslaved by a power-hungry toddler, and even trying to comfort him the best he could after his monster wife ran off with the other monster and the two of them perished upon falling down. There are also a lot of great hints of a slow-burn romance between the two, but I’m getting ahead of myself there.

The biggest challenge I had writing this story that followed the lore of the characters. One headcanon I played around with is that Pinky and the Brain work as part-time actors and that the majority of the skits (especially the history-based ones) were made for the show, while the events that took place in Pinky and the Brain spin-off and certain episodes from the reboot (Of Mice and Memes,Future Brain, and Roadent Trip) actually occurred in the show’s universe.

Also there are aspects of the reboot that I purposefully left out, such as Brain being super evil and Pinky being a passive enabler(*cough cough* episodes 3 and 8 *cough cough*) and Pinky having daddy issues since they conflict with their established characterizations from the PATB spin-off.

I also wanted to provide some sort of explanation as to what the Warners were up to during the past 22 years. So I figured that having them frozen in suspended animation was the more logical choice. I also came up with the idea that they had to choose between staying frozen or being locked in the water tower again for added drama.

Overall, I had a lot of fun writing this story. It’s been a long time since I last publicly published fanfiction since there was a lot going on in my personal life and I was too busy and I didn’t feel entirely motivated to write. But upon rewatching old episodes of Pinky and the Brain, Animaniacs, and watching season one of the Animaniacs reboot has reawakened my creative muse and motivated me to write, and I do plan on writing more stories centered around these characters.

Please leave a review if you can! Thanks for reading!

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #fanfiction #brain #yakko warner #pinky #wakko warner #dot warner #brinky #a!spoilers #christmas

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