#silly little thing i intend to turn into an actual short fic but i wanted the season to have more episodes first | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

javiscigarette · 11 months

Text

Bad Mood

Joel x f!reader (pre/no outbreak)

Summary: Based on this ask (thank u nonnie)!! Joel punishes bratty reader that's it

Warnings: SMUT! NSFW 18+ no use of Y/N, established relationship, straight up filth not much else, dom!Joel brat!reader, spanking, fingering, orgasm denial, oral (m receiving)

Word count: 3k

A/N: Using this as my 450 follower celebration! I'm so grateful for everyone who's followed me and enjoyed my silly little fics. I love this community <3. Also, this is relatively short but I am already planning a part two to this so stay tuned hehehe. my masterlist

Joel knew you were in a bad mood the second you walked through the door.

The door slams behind you and carelessly toss your keys on the little entryway table. You keep your headphones on as you kick off your shoes and stomp off to the bedroom, not even bothering to look at Joel who’s sitting on the couch in the living room not even six feet away.

Joel stays silent as he watches you stride down the hall to the bedroom, wincing just slightly when he hears the bedroom door slam shut.

You keep your music blasting as you immediately change into your comfy clothes. Today was a horrible day at work. Your boss has been breathing down your neck for the last two weeks about a project you're working on, nitpicking every single detail and telling you to make a million changes. And today, despite all the edits and changes she told you to make, she still picked it apart, telling you that you were better off restarting the whole thing.

And now you were left with a day and a half to “fix” this project before it’s due. So yeah, you were in a bit of a bad mood.

After changing, it’s straight to stress cleaning. With your headphones on, you storm back into the kitchen and start to pull out all of the cleaning supplies from under the sink. Your music is loud enough that you don’t hear Joel clearing his throat behind you. You only notice that he’s there whenever you stand up and turn around. He says something to you and looks at you expectedly, forcing you to stop your music.

“What?” you snap at him, ripping out one of your ear buds.

Joel raises his eyebrows at you and holds up his hands in innocence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your narrow your eyes at him because how dare he interrupt you right now with his genuine love and care for you.

“No.” you reply firmly, putting your earbud back in.

You go to start cleaning, but Joel is saying something else before you can even pick up the rag.

You rip your earbud out again and actually snap at him this time with a “What Joel?!”

Joel tilts his head with his eyebrows raised, giving you a silent warning to lose the attitude.

But the last thing you need right now is someone else telling you what to do.

“Can I please just clean the damn kitchen in peace?” you ask, your words biting a little harder than you intended but you don’t care.

Joel stares at you for a good five seconds, his jaw subtly shifting and clenching as he grinds his teeth.

“Okay.”

That’s all he says before turning away and walking out of the room.

You immediately feel a pang of guilt seeing him walk away, but the anger is quick to wash it away and cloud your head again.

You spend the next thirty minutes scouring the kitchen from top to bottom. Every cabinet door and every drawer you open is shut with a slam and you scrub the countertops so vigorously that your arm is starting to get sore.

Thinking he’s given you enough time, Joel comes back in, standing near you as you scrub away at the spot of burnt on food on the stovetop. You can see him in your peripheral, standing a foot or two away from you but you ignore him. You already told him to leave you alone once.

He stands there for a few moments, trying to get you to look over at him but he eventually gives up and just takes out one of your earbuds.

The saying “seeing red” never made much sense to you until just now.

“What the hell, Joel!” you shout, finally turning to face him. The anger boils up inside of you and you can feel your whole body heat up you try to snatch your earbud back from him but he’s faster than you and holds it up high to where you can’t reach.

“Joel I’m so fucking serious right now, just leave me alo-”

Joel takes out your other earbud and tosses them to the counter behind him before you can say anything else.

“Joel!” you nearly scream, your face red hot with anger now.

“Quit acting like a fuckin’ brat” Joel says quietly, his tone serious and stern.

“I’m not being a fucking brat, you’re the one annoying the shit out of me right now”

Joel’s eyes narrow, trying to mask his shock at your attitude. You’re rarely ever this angry and you almost never take it out on Joel like this.

“Drop this attitude right now and I’ll give you one more chance and act like you didn’t just fucking say that” Joel says, his voice audibly tenser.

You roll your eyes and reach for your earbuds again, but again, Joel is faster than you and pins your wrist to the counter with his hand.

“Joel, just fuck off” you mutter. His grip on your wrist is so tight that your fingers are starting to tingle from the restricted blood flow. You look up at him and immediately realize how fucked you are. His face is hard as stone, a deep frown tugging at his lips while he stares holes into your own eyes.

“Okay, baby. You want to act like a brat, I’ll treat you like a fuckin’ brat” Joel spits before tugging harshly on your wrist and dragging you out of the kitchen.

“Joel, I am not in the mood right now” you say as he leads you to the living room, nearly pulling your arm out of socket as he does.

“I don’t give a fuck.” Joel says firmly. He stops near the couch and release his grasp on your wrist.

“Now get on your knees and shut that mouth up with my cock.”

You snort at his words and laugh right in his face.

“You think I’m going to blow you right now? You’re the one who should be apologizing to me” you snarl, accusingly poking him in the chest to emphasize your words.

Joel is still as a rock as he stares at you again, the darkness in his eyes already starting to break down some the resolve inside of you.

“You’re gonna regret that, baby.” Joel whispers from behind clenched teeth.

Without another word, Joel grips your wrist once again and steps towards the couch. He sits down and pulls you until you’re standing in front of him before pulling down your shorts and panties in one go. He then pulls you down into his lap and even though you try to fight back, Joel is a lot stronger than you and easily maneuvers you until you’re on your stomach laying across his lap with your face pressed against the couch cushion and your ass in the air. Joel keeps a firm hand on the back of your neck, pinning your head to the couch with your face smushed against the cushion.

He uses his other hand to rub your ass, the soft shorts you put on earlier easily riding up and exposing most of your skin. You try to wiggle out of his grasp but there’s no use. He’s not letting go of you now.

“How many do you think you deserve?” Joel asks, his voice steady and calm again now that he has you like this.

You don’t say anything, just humph and try to squirm out from underneath his hold again. Bad idea. The grip on the back of your neck tightens and then the room is filled with the loud crack of his hand coming down heavy on your ass.

You yelp in surprise, tingles of pain radiating from the spot here he spanked you. Your determination to keep up this attitude is quickly crumbling. Joel knew exactly how to put you back in your place.

“I think at least 10” Joel says before delivering two more harsh smacks to both cheeks. You bite back a whimper, still enough willpower to try and not let him see how affected you actually are. “Starting now.”

Your eyes roll back, and your brows furrow deeply as he gives you another hard spank. The moan in your throat comes out through your nose as a sharp exhale as you keep wiggling in his lap.

Joel’s hand comes down on you again, the loud sound echoing in the otherwise silent house. “And we’re gonna start over if you don’t count them for me.”

Another spank has your eyes squeezing shut. “That’s three then” you pant.

“Nope, we’re starting from the beginning” Joel says before connecting his palm to your ass again. “That’s one.”

You try twisting out of his grip once again and his next smack is even harder.

“Stop trying to escape or I’m gonna add more. Now count for me”

You stop wiggling, slowly starting to accept defeat.

“Two.”

Joel hums in approval and lands another harsh smack to your cheek.

“Three” you say obediently, still trying to cover the tremor in your voice. You’re still fuming and the fact that he has you pinned down like this, completely unable to move is fueling your fire.

Another smack.

“Four.”

By the nineth, you’re clinging to the last shred of your control. Your cheeks are burning hot, your skin raised in the shape of Joel’s handprint. By now, you can feel him fully hard pressing against your abdomen.

“Nine.”

Joel can hear the tremble in your voice now, clear as day. He silently rubs his palm over your cheek, soothing the warm, swollen skin.

His soft touch is gone as soon as it came, his fingers quickly finding your slit instead. With no warning, he plunges two fingers inside of you, easily curling his fingertips against your g-spot.

“Yeah, I knew you’d be fuckin’ soaked” Joel says with a breathless chuckle as he keeps prodding against your spot, the lewd sounds of his fingers moving inside you echoing around the room. You cry out in surprise as Joel relentlessly punches his fingers against the spot that sends massive waves of hot liquid pleasure up your spine. You try to swallow your moans, still refusing to give in to him all the way and bite your lip until you taste the metallic tang of blood.

“Just give it up, baby. I know you want to” Joel coos. And he’s right, you want nothing more than to just give it up and let him put you in your place. But you can’t give up just yet. This wasn’t the first time Joel has punished you and every time he does, there’s something inside you, an urge to find out how far Joel will take your punishments.

So, you shake your head as much as you can with his hand still holding your neck against the couch cushion.

Joel clicks his tongue disapprovingly letting you know that you made another bad choice. You suppress a groan when he pulls his fingers out of you. He takes his hand off your neck and grips both of your cheeks and spreads you open. You quietly hiss at the bite of the cold air against your burning wet heat.

“Such a pretty pussy” Joel whispers as he leans over to get a good look. It takes everything in you not to moan and wiggle your hips in his face as he keeps you spread open and inspects you.

Then there’s the sound of Joel spitting behind you. You swallow thickly, pushing down another moan once you feel the warm liquid dribble onto your skin and slide down between your cheeks. Your chest tightens at the sensation, and you bite your cheek as a hot wave of arousal crashes down over you.

He sits up straight again, his hand quickly coming back to wrap around the back of your neck and hold you in place again. With his other hand, he finds your puckered hole and rubs over it with the pad of his thumb, using his spit as lube. You let out one small whine when the tip of it catches on your rim.

“C’mon, angel. Lemme hear those pretty sounds and I’ll let you cum” Joel presses.

You can’t possibly hold out any longer. Not with your skin hot and burning from your spanking, his fingers pushing hard against your g-spot, his thumb teasing your asshole and the big, strong hand holding you down by your fucking neck.

There’s nothing you can do to stop the loud moan that tumbles past your lips as he moves his fingers reach deeper inside of you until he presses a spot even deeper inside you.

“There it is” Joel sighs, his chest swelling with pride as you tremble and start to fall apart underneath him. “That’s a good girl.”

He stays in position for a little longer, your pretty sounds filling the room as he gives you exactly what you need. You’re already close because of course Joel knows how to get you there in just a couple of minutes. He knows your body almost better than his, knows what makes you tick and recognizes all of your signs.

So, it’s not surprising that he hears the specific moans and can feel the way that you clench around his fingers, wordlessly letting him know that you’re about to reach the edge.

And it shouldn’t be surprising when he suddenly slips his fingers out of you and lands a final smack to your ass, heavier and louder than all the others, but it still makes you cry out. You whimper at the loss of his touch and the way the burning pain radiating from his hits mixes so deliciously with the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Count, angel” Joel says calmly, giving you a friendly reminder that you’re still in trouble. Five minutes ago, you would’ve ripped his head off for saying that. But obeying is a lot easier when you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm.

“Ten. Ten, sir. Thank you” you mewl. You know that he’s probably not going to let you cum soon. You’ve been here enough times to know that much. Still, you wiggle your hips, hoping that he’d go easy on you and slide his fingers back inside you. But Joel is not known for going easy on anyone.

“Good girl using your manners” Joel praises. “But you were a very bad girl earlier. Do you think bad girls deserve to cum?” he asks, quickly washing away any of your hopes of an orgasm in the near future.

Joel doesn’t say anything else as he maneuvers you again, pushing your legs to the ground and holding down on your shoulders until you’re kneeling in front of him while he remains seated on the couch.

You look up at him with wide eyes, your chest heaving as your knees dig into the hardwood floors underneath you as you stay still and quietly wait for his instructions. You have no fight left in you, completely surrendering to him just in hopes of being able to cum at least once tonight.

Joel smiles down at you and cups your jaw. You immediately nuzzle against his palm and bat your eyelashes innocently at him.

“Now suck my cock like a good girl I know you are.”

You follow Joel’s command easily and reach for the waistband of his sweatpants. You pull down his pants and boxers to his mid-thigh, his hard cock slapping up against his lower abdomen.

With no other preface, you take him in your mouth, your lips wrapped around his tip as you roll your tongue all around his sensitive head. And apparently that’s more than enough teasing for Joel because his hand comes up to the back of your head and forces you down his length.

You gag at the sudden intrusion and try to quickly recover, not wanting to give Joel another reason to punish you more. His hand remains heavy on your head, holding you in place with his cock down your throat as you drool around him for a few more seconds, your cunt throbbing between your legs as he uses you.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out your smart little mouth” Joel huffs.

You give a small nod, and he lets go of your head, letting you pull off for a breath. He watches you intently as gasp for air, smirking when you start to cough.

“My cock too big for you, angel?” Joel teases as he brings a thumb to the corner of your mouth to wipe up your drool before pushing it back in your mouth. You shake your head no and Joel smiles at you and removes his thumb so you can talk.

“No, sir. I can take it” you reply breathlessly.

“Yeah, I know you can, angel. Now show me how good you can be for me.”

With another small nod you take him back in your mouth. His hand returns to the back your head and he rolls his hips up, pushing himself down your throat.

You stay as still as possible, keeping your mouth and throat open and letting Joel fuck your throat. You’ve had him in your mouth almost every day since the first month you met him, but your jaw already starts to ache like it’s impossible to get used to the sheer size of his cock. Drool starts to spill out of the corner of your mouth again and you shamelessly let it run down your chin.

Joel shows no mercy, bucking up into you like he’s completely disregarding the fact that you need to breathe. But you know he’s not. You know he has a careful eye on you, watching for signs that he’s pushing you too far.

“Takin’ me so well, angel. Knew you could be good for me” Joel grunts, encouraging you to keep going as the hand on your head briefly pets your hair.

All the anger that had been building for the past couple of days has dissipated. All the stress about your job and your ridiculous boss were miles away and now the only thing you're thinking about is Joel's thick cock down your throat.

You stay there for what feels like forever and allow him to use you as he pleases. Your neglected pussy clenches desperately around nothing, slick leaking down your thighs because how could you not be turned on with Joel using you like his personal fucktoy.

You’re now drooling everywhere, absolutely soaking his cock as you breathe heavily through your nose, your eyelids heavy. And as much as Joel wants to continue to fuck your mouth until your jaw breaks, he can’t hold back his own pleasure for much longer.

After a couple more thrusts down your throat, he abruptly pulls out and His hand is a blur as you watch him fist himself for a couple of seconds until he starts to cum. His moans and little whimpers send fire straight to your core as he paints your face with hot ropes of cum. He’s messy with it, letting it get everywhere, your chin, your mouth, your cheeks, and your hair. You mewl quietly and press your thighs together searching for any sort of friction on your dripping pussy as Joel marks you, claiming you as his.

You patiently wait for him come back down, listening his quiet groans as he pumps out every drop.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he leans back against the couch and drops his hand from your head again.

“You look so pretty all covered in my cum, angel” Joel says with a lopsided smile. You smile sweetly back at him, your eyelashes fluttering against your flushed cheek. He swipes a thumb through the mess on your cheek and slides it past your lips. You suck his thumb clean, swallowing down everything he gives you.

He revels in the sensation of you suckling on his thumb for a little bit before slipping it out with a soft pop. You look up at him, waiting for his next instruction with the hopes of having your own release soon.

“Knew you could be good, angel. Now go finish cleaning the kitchen and then I’ll think about letting you cum.”

Your jaw drops as you stare up at him with wide eyes. Joel just laughs cruelly at your expression.

“But...but Joel, please I want-”

“Should’ve thought about that earlier, angel. You know bad girls don’t get to cum. Now get up and finish cleaning” Joel says with a sickeningly sweet tone. You blink at him a few more times hoping he’d miraculously change his mind.

But he doesn’t. So, with your attitude completely gone now, you follow his directions and shakily stand up. You give him one more pathetic, pleading look but he just smirks back at you. Accepting defeat, you turn and walk back to the kitchen.

“And don’t even think about cleanin’ your face yet” Joel calls out from behind you.

Ty for reading hugs and smoochies for all of you!!!

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller one shot #the last of us #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #javiscigarette

2K notes · View notes

snek-panini · 10 months

Text

Book time! This is On the Subject of Nests and Happiness by Nonesensed. I don't typically go for nesting fics, they tend to get a little silly for my taste, but this one is an old favorite. They put some very nice worldbuilding into it and I really liked their OCs, which is kinda unusual in fandom, at least for me. So I wanted to give it the book treatment, and it turned out really well! The cover is cardstock, with book cloth on the spine, neither of which were actually bought for this project but they looked so good together that I couldn't resist. The title is HTV and it was an absolute nightmare to get all those tiny letters to stick properly. Worth it, though. More pics under the cut!

Endpapers are scrapbook paper, also not bought for this book, but just. Look at them. They look so good. I had actually intended to make my own end bands on this project, but they fought me so hard that I gave up. And I already had these black-and-white checkered ones that matched, so it's not so bad. You can kinda notice my tendency to make covers too deep in this shot. I used to think that was a flaw but as I go on I'm kinda liking it. I get more wiggle room when casing in, and they feel nice when I read the books. View from the top shows how thick this one is. It's the longest word count I've done at this size and I want to do more like this. The textures and proportions make it very pleasant to hold.

Have some interior shots:

Title page, first page of first chapter with summary, and first page of actual chapter text. All the images came from rawpixel with minimal manipulation on my part to make the one in the third photo. I don't like working with images, I've never been that kind of artist, but I do very much like how things turned out. It's got three chapters and they all have a first page with the wreath image and short summary, then the actual text of the chapter starts on the following page.

This fic has so many footnotes. More than any other fic I've set type for so far, and some of them are very long. I discovered in the process of formatting them that footnotes are a pain in the ass to typeset. Again, though: totally worth it, they look so good even if they do make the line spacing a little weird. I think a lot of my frustration with them comes from trying to make Word do things it was not intended to do. It won't stop me doing more footnote-heavy fics in the future, but at least now I have a better idea of what I'm getting into when I do them.

Fun thing about this: I waxed and burnished the cardstock before I attached the cover, and the last thing I did after casing in was the title. I have a cricut mini press, which is shaped like a tiny iron, and when I was pressing the HTV it left an iron-shaped dark patch on the front cover. Cue panic. It looked so stupid, and it was already cased in so I was stuck with it. I think what happened had to do with the wax coating? Thankfully, pressing it again all over (instead of just where the title is) covered up the dark patch, but the result is that the front is a slightly different color than the back. Whoops. I may go back later and press the back too, to get the color even, but for the moment I actually kinda like it? Shows me what I'm learning. Another fun fact, thankfully less visible than the last one: while I was making the cover, I gave myself the worst papercut ever while working with the cardstock. There was actual blood, and right on the tip of a finger on my dominant hand. I had a mark there for weeks.

I'm very proud of this one. That's probably why the post got so long and ramble-y, but I just keep coming back to it. Colors, textures, size, nice sharp groove where the spine connects to the front. I'm just really proud of it.

#good omens #bookbinding #fanbinding #fic rec #snek makes books #snek talks too much about her books #she loves them they are perfect

58 notes · View notes

xxsycamore · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭

↬ 🌸 You and Napoleon welcome the spring out in the fields, trying an interesting new date idea... And Napoleon learns about something curious from the future, along the way, using it to his own advantage.

Napoleon Bonaparte x f!reader • rating: G • tags: Picnics; Painting; Dates; Fluff; Humor; Married Characters • wordcount: 1, 680• masterlist

a/n: This is a birthday gift for a fellow Napoleon lover! This fic was a stay idea lounging in my mind since forever, but it's for @topaz-carbuncle that I decided to put it on paper, with hopes that it would make her smile ❤ With that birthday date, I was so sure that it overlaps with the first day of spring - it turns out it was the day prior, but!! Spring actually came late into the evening where I am, so I really hope it counts! Happy Birthday, dear Lucille! Thank you for being here and sharing your lovely works with us, from one napo lover to another I hope you'd accept this humble gift in turn for all the smiles you've put on my face (and undoubtedly, on many others', too!), I wish you a great day today!! ❤❤🎉🎉🎉 Woooho! • Also for day 8 of Spring Showers Spring Flowers by @aquagirl1978 & @violettduchess Prompt: Picnics (fluff)

"Now, the sun might not be that strong, but I'm still demanding you wear your hat, Mrs. Bonaparte."

You sigh, staying still with chin tipped up while a pair of familiar, sturdy hands tie the ribbons of your straw hat for you. Glancing at Napoleon's face behind your lashes from that point of view, you think it might be fair, after all. He looks a little silly with his own straw hat, it's the one that Sebas uses when working in the garden… maybe it's because you're so used to seeing it on the butler's head that you're seeing something comedic in the current situation.

"Alright, alright, whatever the monsieur wants."

Napoleon smirks at your words, shooting you that boyish gaze while finishing up tying the ribbons under your chin.

Oh, wait! Now you're actually protected against his hair-ruffling attacks! Maybe it's not such a bad idea after all.

"Allons-y!"

***

It's surprising how much the grass has grown, fresh and green as if winter hasn't come to your secret spot at all. With the exception of the few trees in the distance, which are now spots of white instead of spots of green - all in blossom, and surely buzzing with bees, you almost can hear all the way here - the sight is reminiscent of those of the summer days. Napoleon is right, the sun is not as cruel today - and that's why you both intend to use its welcoming rays for company in today's pastime.

"Napoleon, give me those already… you don't have to carry everything."

"Nonsense. What other reason is there for your strong boyfriend to be around?"

You sigh. Again. Napoleon can be such a show-off occasionally, but oh well, it's not like you're too annoyed by it… and it looks like you've arrived too.

Napoleon sets down the many items he carried - picnic basket full of yummy refreshments; another, larger one, filled with painting supplies; two foldable chairs; and of course, the two wooden easels. Today is the first day of spring, and what other way to welcome and commemorate its glory than to capture it on the canvas…! Or at least attempt to, and have fun in the course of it. It's a bit different from your typical dates, but you love the idea either way. Spending time with the love of your life is always exciting, no matter the activity.

"Vincent showed me how to put those up, so I won't do the same mistake as last time. Just watch."

True, last time you two tried painting together Napoleon has been stubborn about putting up a painting easel by himself, refusing to ask for help even when the tripod kept falling apart. To think that there are things even Napoleon can't do…! Alas, that was a short-lived miracle, as you're now witnessing the work of a professional, putting the easel as if it's something mundane he does every day. And so, waking up early remains the only thing Napoleon Bonaparte cannot master.

"There. Please tell me what direction would you like yours to face."

You let out a lengthy hum, cutting it off as soon as the invincible light bulb pops up above your head.

"How sad are you going to be on a scale from 1 to 10 if you were to not see my face through the whole duration of our date?"

"Huh? Ten. No, even more than-"

"Okay, but listen - it's a good idea, listen - both this side," you gesture to the outstretching meadow ahead of you, "and that one," you turn around to point to the opposite one, "are worth putting on the canvas… so why don't we paint two different paintings? We'll sit back to back, and we won't turn around until we're done. No peeking! How's that?"

"Well…"

You suspect that a battle is taking place in his heart this very moment, but you know that his mind is always a little louder than his feelings. You think.

"Yeah, that actually makes a lot of sense. That's my clever Nunuche."

"That sounds like an oxymoron."

***

Even though the sun was high in the sky when you came here, the spring day remains a little too short for your liking, calling for final touches to be added soon.

It's true that somewhere amidst it all, a bear roared - not the real kind, the one that would make you pack your stuff and run, shouting at Napoleon not to attempt dueling with it with his rapier at the ready - but also not the one in your stomach either! Instead of that cute bear cub Napoleon likes to tease you about, it was a papa bear, awoken from its slumber in… Napoleon's belly. You thought the lunch you made earlier at the mansion was enough for him, but alas, a snack break was due. And a snack break you had.

Napoleon was a bit grumpy when you denied him the afternoon nap'n cuddle™ on the picnic blanket, but the slight change of scenery in the afternoon spoke to his inner artist just as it did to yours, fortunately.

Armed with a paintbrush anew, there you are, dipping the bristles into shades of rose-gold mixed on your palate. Napoleon has been quiet for awhile, but that's okay - the wild birds speak enough in his stead, in their various whimsical languages.

The pink on your palate seems to be dominating over the warm yellow shades, and instead of trying to mellow it down, you stand with your brush in the air, staring at the canvas.

Your painted field is a satisfactory still image of the one behind the easel - not that the real thing is much more dynamic. As rules call, one third is taken by the greenery, two thirds are taken by the sky. The occasional trees in the distance make for a good perspective, yet the upper part of it seems rather… empty? You trail off in thoughts about skies you've seen, and naturally, they're all skies you've seen in your own time period.

"Hehee…"

"What are you giggling about, Nunuche?"

Napoleon leans a bit onto you, using you as a backrest. He's not putting his whole weight, of course, but it successfully makes you huff and takes your attention. You push back against him likewise, nudging until your backs are parallel again. It's actually you that have been using him as a backrest in the last half an hour, but, but, he was the one who wholeheartedly suggested it!

"Nothing. I'll just add a little detail in mine."

"Oh? Can I take a peek?"

The whole ordeal about not looking at each other's paintings has been a bit too much… and you give in with a shrug. You clutch the brush with determination, peach-pink paint still at its top.

And you draw a straight line across the stark blue sky of your painting.

Just on time, Napoleon turns on his chair, moving his long legs so they're on either side of your chair.

"What is that…?"

You chuckle some more at his confusion, understandable as it is.

"A chemtrail! I've told you about the advances of planes in modern times… that's the trail their engines leave in the atmosphere. It's a white line showing their trajectory."

"But yours is pink?"

"That's because," You look up beyond the margins of the painting, as if there is a chance you'd see exactly what you're explaining in that very sky above you and Napoleon. "When the sun goes down and we can't see it on eyelevel anymore, sometimes planes are up there - and with how high they are, the sun is still shining on them. And on their chemtrails, too, painting them orange-pink, like so. It's just a little something I've always noticed, sooo…"

"I like that. Thank you for sharing with me."

You smile, turning halfway to meet Napoleon's cyan gaze. You recognize that thirst for knowledge in his eyes, your heart beating warmly in your chest with the sentiment of the moment.

Napoleon reaches over your shoulder with his own brush, dipping it in your freshly blended pink and stealing some.

"Hey!"

"Now I want to add a futuristic element in my painting too. I'm not going to be left behind you like that."

You watch in awe as Napoleon's hand strikes boldly on his own freshly painted landscape. But it's not a straight line like yours.

"A heart?!"

"Yep, a heart… what, don’t tell me they can't do that. There's no way things are so advanced yet they can't do that."

The need to close your jaw triumphs over your bewilderment, somehow, still left speechless at Napoleon's clever deduction. No wonder he is one of history's greatest geniuses, his place among the mansion residents is deserved.

His painting skills… they're so-so, but it's because of that that the line curving in a heart shape in the middle is so eye-catching, making his painting a whole masterpiece.

"I still like yours better, though. You've got talent, Nunuche."

"I think you might be biased, Monsieur de Wahaha." You nod with eyelids fluttering shut, finally turning all the way on your little chair so you can face Napoleon. The impending talk about stunt planes and his right guess about their existence can wait. "…Because I thought the same about yours."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because a person in love is naturally biased for their partner, and everything they do."

Your sudden straightforwardness surprises Napoleon, coloring his face in shades you picked and mixed personally. He holds your gaze like that for awhile, then it all happens in the way it always does.

Napoleon shortens the distance, and so do you. And right in the middle-

"Oh!"

The resistance of two straw hats colliding startles you both, making you withdraw from each other in a rush.

"Pfft. Hahahaha!!"

As Napoleon falls into another of his infamous laughing fits, you wonder if the protection against his hair-ruffling attacks was worth the ruined moment. But the rising urge to laugh - with him, or at him, it doesn't matter all that much - might be worth it all.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @cilokgoang Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikevamp napoleon #ikemen vampire napoleon bonaparte #ikemen napoleon #ikevamp fluff #ikevamp fanfic #spring showers spring flowers ccc #ikemen series #ikeseries #cybird

47 notes · View notes

crotchety-old-emu · 2 years

Text

OLITDP update

so i’m not entirely sure if anyone’s interested in this post, but just in case someone is, i wanted to give you guys a bit of an update on where our love is these days’ piano is at right now.

i am most definitely still working on it. however, when i started writing, i had originally planned for this to be a short (like - genuinely short. it was never supposed to be over 10 - 15k, right now it’s the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written), light-hearted fluffy story about anthony and penelope realising they quite liked each other. if you’ve been reading, you know it’s turned into a lot more. and while i did add a few things to my original idea, i was still always planning on keeping the general plot the same.

but as i’ve been trying to write chapter 17, i’ve realised that’s not an option anymore. the original ending i’ve been intending to write wouldn’t work with the characters this penelope and anthony have become. so i’ve been trying to think of what would be a natural and logical conclusion to this story.

right now, i feel like i’m close to figuring something out, and i’m actually quite excited about taking the fic in this new direction i’ve got in mind, but it might take a while before i have another chapter written and posted. also, if i’m going ahead with the most current outline for the story, the entire fic will probably end up being around 23 - 25 chapters. (this is a rough estimate, however, and is still very much subject to change.)

i’m very sorry about the wait, for those of you who are waiting. i’m trying my best to write as fast as i can, while still writing the best i can. i hope you’ll bear with me a little while longer.

my apologies and thanks for the tremendous support you’ve all shown me and my silly little fic that’s not so little anymore (but that still is kind of silly).

#olitdp #fic update #writing #anthony x penelope #penelope x anthony #anthony bridgerton #penelope featherington #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #penthony

41 notes · View notes

rafescoke · 3 years

Text

Brother’s Best Friend ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: heyy I’ve recently found your account and I just felt in love with the way you write and with your works so I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is Kelce’s sister, she’s sitting alone at home and suddenly she hears a doorbell ringing, she comes to open the door and that’s Rafe and she says something like “Kelce’s not home” or smth like that and Rafe answers “I actually came to see you” or smth like that. It can be smut or fluff or whatever I don’t really care. Sorry if this is chaotic but I just want the reader to be black and I have bad ideas lmao 😭 sending love ❤️❤️

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Fooling around with your best friend's sister is not a good sign, especially when it involves something more than skinny dipping and drinking alcohol together.

Warnings: Slight smut, mentions of drinking, slight angst, teasing Rafe Cameron

A/N: I'm so close to 700 followers wtf y'all are truly amazing ily! I'm finishing all requests in my inbox for the new few days; thank you to those who put their trust in me to write their ideas <33

(Y/N) could never deny the attraction she felt towards a certain brunette boy with that charming smile.

The feeling evolved for the first time when he came over to her house to see Kelce. He was so polite to her; giving her a turn on passing the ball and scolding Kelce and Topper for not wanting to give her a chance at playing basketball in the swimming pool.

But she was only 8 back then, and she regarded the feeling as nothing more than a silly crush.

Rafe Cameron changed when he entered high school. (Y/N) couldn't explain what was wrong, but he was not her Rafe anymore. He didn't hold the door for her, scold Kelce for making fun of her or do anything that used to make her heart soar.

Her thoughts were disrupted when a fresh blue towel hit her squarely on the face, causing her to yelp in shock.

"Do you wanna come down to the lake with us?"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, pulling the towel to her side, and closed her magazine with a snap. Her eyes fell back to the three guys, lingering on the tallest one a little bit too long.

She cleared her throat, "No, I'm tired."

Kelce shrugged, walking towards the entrance of their home from the swimming pool. He didn't feel like having (Y/N) around anyways, because that would mean he would have to protect her from his friends.

Kelce loved his friends, of course, but he also knew the other side of them that uses girls like Kleenex tissue only to throw them away again.

"On a second thought-" (Y/N) said, stopping the three boys from entering the big house. "I think I'll go."

"You sure?" Kelce asked. God. Now he would have to play the big-brother stimulator for the whole night.

The night sky was dark, and the only light came from the moonlight up above and sometimes from the flashlight of each other's phone. Boozes laid messily on the wooden deck and their clothes were discarded all over the place.

Not one person was sober, and they were all laughing to a joke by Topper.

"Okay, okay, last one-" Topper said excitedly. He shivered, and (Y/N) thought about it as a response towards the cold lake water or the excited nerves of sharing another stupid joke. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"Easy. To get to the other side," Rafe answered proudly. A beer drop slid down from his lips to his chin, and (Y/N) felt a strong desire to lick it.

"Wrong."

"Okay, fine, I don't know."

Topper smiled widely, and (Y/N) could see this joke coming from a few miles away. "To get to the loser's house. Knock knock."

Rafe pulled a face, his eyebrows raised. "Who's there?"

"The chicken."

Kelce and Topper's laugh filled the silence around them, and (Y/N) found herself slightly smiling at the joke. Rafe groaned, finally understanding the joke and being angry at himself for willingly taking the bait.

"Okay, okay. The joke's over."

Kelce laughed again before taking a full swig of another beer bottle. He stared at the sky, and let out a loud huff.

"Wish we can go up there."

"Me too, man," Topper agreed. He joined Kelce by staring up at the dark sky, both clearly high out of their minds.

"Do you want to?"

(Y/N) looked to her side, not noticing Rafe who had moved from his previous position near Topper to beside her. She quirked her head to one side, her face questioning.

"Go up to the sky," he explained. He watched as she looked up to the sky, her mouth slightly parting. Her chest heaved peacefully, and her wet body donning the lilac bikini never looked so beautiful and perfect.

"Nah. I'm too scared."

"Even when I'll go with you?" he smiled. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, though her heart was soaring brightly; she would never feel scared anymore if he were to be around her all the time.

"Yeah. Even when you’ll go with me. Besides, it's not possible."

"Let people enjoy things," he said, and he was so close to her now because she could smell the coffee mint from his breath. Her heart was beating wildly, though this would be the ten-thousandth time he did this to her.

It never failed to leave her completely breathless.

"You're drooling," he whispered, and used his thumb to wipe her wet lips from the beer. Her breath hitched, and she couldn't utter any words back. She was too mesmerised with the whole situation.

His fingers stopped at her chin, looking into her eyes, and he was petrified too. He leaned in, but before anything could happen, (Y/N) moved away. He cleared his throat, and swam back to the deck.

‘I’m drunk’ was repeated by him all the way to the the place he threw his clothes off, shaking his head at the thought that he was so close to kissing her. He looked back to her direction in the lake, still staring at him. He focused back on the ties of his shorts, and made his way back to the Kelce’s house.

He ignored his best friends calls.

. . .

(Y/N) never really liked school, but she loved the after-activity that she got herself in.

Like cheerleading.

She used to think of the sport as something quirky, but in truth, once she was accepted into the school’s cheerleading team, she had never been more into a sport than before.

She walked down the field to the other side of the track where the other girls were waiting for her. Her training skirt flew slightly from the wind, and she was trying to hold them down all while carrying the water bottle and a duffle bag.

She exchanged a few greetings with her other friends, putting down her duffle bag and her water bottle. The sun was scorching hot, and all she felt like was eating ice cream inside of their boat whilst streaming down the lake, but the last time she had ditched cheer practice, it hadn’t ended well.

“Uh-oh,” someone exclaimed behind her. “Big bro is coming.”

(Y/N) looked up to the field, and sure enough Kelce was running towards her in his jersey. (Y/N) sighed, not knowing what she did now that could earn her a lecture from Kelce.

“Hey, I’m bringing a girl home after practice,” he said. “Would you mind getting a ride with someone else?”

She groaned, “Fuck, Kelce, no. You can tell your new scandal to fuck off because I am not getting an Uber to walk back to home.”

“Look, please? You can ask your friends to give you a ride, right? It’s important,” he begged. His eyes were scanning her friends now, obviously trying to find someone who could help his sister, and when he found one, his smile quirked upwards. “Yo, Sarah! Can you drive (Y/N) home after practice?”

Sarah walked towards them, her blonde hair up in a ponytail. She slung her arms around (Y/N)’s shoulders, noting the exasperated expression on her face, and gave Kelce a glare.

“You should let her drive a car if you’re going to bring a girl home after school,” she said. Kelce groaned, knowing the amount of shit he will be getting from the people around him, but he was truly trying to make it right for this new girl.

“Look, I’ll buy y’all anything for a week. Food? Sure. Clothes? Sure.”

Sarah clapped her hands, seemingly excited, and forced (Y/N) to say yes. She wouldn’t mind driving (Y/N) home, because she wanted to catch up with her about some gossip too.

“Fine. But I’m driving my own car tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” was all he said before he jogged down to the soccer team.

That evening was hell to (Y/N). She couldn’t get the formation right, the sun was getting hotter and hotter, her hair was sticking out weirdly, and worst of all, she couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday’s event.

He was so, so close to her.

“(Y/N), come on! What’s gotten into you? The top part, again!” The coach yelled, slapping her hands against her lap. There were sweat forming on her forehead, and she was obviously hot and bothered from this whole situation.

But sport was sport. The coach wasn’t going to let today’s training to waste, and she intended for the new number to work.

(Y/N) muttered a soft ‘sorry’ before going back to her position, her heart still thumping at the thought. The cheer started, and her mouth was saying the words, but her brain was somewhere else.

The two guys by her side picked her up by her calf, and she felt the wind gushing out from beside her ears. She was high up in the sky now, throwing one arm upwards and balancing herself on one leg, and it was finally time now, to twirl into the two boys’ arms, but she wasn’t ready. Her mouth didn’t utter any words from the cheer, too focused on the step, and before she could jump back into their arms, she felt herself slipping.

“(Y/N)!” The coach yelled, running towards her by the track. Sarah and the other teammates were surrounding her now, watching as she groaned on the ground painfully, holding onto her arms.

“Okay, I take that as the end of today’s training,” the coach said, sighing. “(Y/N), are you okay? Can you walk?”

(Y/N) held her thumbs up, because she had worse injury than this before. Hell, the boxing fight she used to have with Kelce in their childhood was more painful. She sat up from the track, feeling the heat of the ground burning on her bottoms, and stretched her fingers. The pain coursed through her veins at the feeling, but kinda liked it.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Sarah said, helping her up. She groaned when she finally stood on her two feet, feeling so painful all she wanted to do was lay back on the track, but she knew she had to go home.

She allowed Sarah helping her limp towards a black Mercedes, her eyes closed the whole time.

Okay, scratch the fight with Kelce. This one was more painful than ever.

“Can I stay at your house?” She blurted when Sarah drove out of the school gate. “I don’t feel like listening to my mom’s lecture about my leg.”

Sarah glanced at her from the rearview mirror, watching as she spread her leg out the whole backseat. The ice bag someone had gotten her was pressed against her calf, and she was sweating from the heat and trying to contain the pain.

“Yes, of course, that would be better,” Sarah said. She had other plans that evening, but helping (Y/N) overstepped all of them.

“So what’s up with you and John B?”

Sarah turned to look at her fully on her face, furrowing her eyebrows. “What do you know about John B?”

(Y/N) laughed, “The light’s green.” Just on cue, the car behind them horned at Sarah, and she quickly pushed on the pedal.

“How do you know about John B?” Sarah asked, biting her lips. If (Y/N) could find out, she couldn’t imagine what would Rafe do if he finds out.

“God, don’t be worried. I’m not going to tell anyone about this, okay? Just relax. I think it’s cute.”

Sarah’s worried expression softened, “You think so?”

“Yeah. At least you got to be with whoever you want. Some people can’t have that.”

Like her. Kelce would kill her and dump her body in the ocean for the sharks if he ever finds out how much she likes Rafe.

“You’ll find the one soon. How about that guy in your maths class?” The car turned to the right, nearing the destination.

“No. I’m not looking for anyone.”

There’s only one, but Sarah won’t like the answer.

The time was 8.23p.m. now, and (Y/N) had been in Sarah’s room for a total of 3 hours. After catching up on new gossips, watched a movie, did her English essay, she felt extremely dehydrated.

Sarah was sleeping peacefully beside her, being so tired after the practice and school, and (Y/N) didn’t feel like waking her up. She have been to The Camerons household, but that was only for Sarah’s birthday party a few years back.

She sighed, getting up from the bed to find the kitchen. The house was like a maze, and she wished they had some kind of a map to browse through.

Alas, she found the kitchen, her muscles screaming from all the wrong turns she took before. She knew where the plastic cups and plates were situated, having to help Sarah get them during her birthday party, so she didn’t have any trouble getting some.

She drank the cold water quickly, feeling the liquid sloshing down her throat. The feeling was so, so good that she wished she could go through it again.

“I do not know where your sister is, Kelce,” a voice sighed not far from the kitchen. “I told you you shouldn’t bring that girl home and just drive (Y/N) home yourself.”

The voice, unmistakably Rafe, was getting nearer and nearer. (Y/N)’s eyes widened, trying to find an empty space to hide in, but there were none. She panicked, still looking for a way out that she didn’t notice the tall figure behind her.

“Oh. Found you.”

His hair was dishevelled and wet, his chest heaving and he was shirtless.

What a nice way to bump onto each other.

“Take a picture,” he started, shutting his phone off and placing them in his shorts. “It’ll last longer that way.”

Now we’re talking about the new Rafe.

(Y/N) scoffed, pushing him away and making a disgusted face at his sweat sticking on her arms. “I’m here for Sarah.”

“Why? Did she die or something?”

God. He really is insufferable.

She made to push him away to return to Sarah’s room, only for him to grab her by her waist.

“Move.” Her tone was stern, but her stomach was flipping wildly. She tried to not look so bothered, but failed miserably.

Rafe seemed to notice her behaviour because he didn’t let go of her. “Come on, where’s the fun in that?”

She was on the same level as his neck now, and he could still smell his expensive cologne even after he swam in the swimming pool. She sighed, placing her hands against his chest.

“Move.”

Rafe laughed, putting his hands up in defeat, and went to grab the same glass she was drinking from. He refilled the glass and downed the content, and (Y/N) had to look away from the innocent move.

Maybe he was just saving water by not using a different cup.

“Do you need help to return to Sarah’s room or something?”

“No, I’m fine,” she refused, and made sure he could see her fake annoyed expression before she returned to the hall she came from. But there were 2 halls now, and she completely forgot which one she had been before.

“Really?” Rafe stood beside her, and she looked up to his amused face. “Because you’re in the wrong hall. It’s the other exit of the kitchen, darling.”

. . .

Why couldn’t she not see his face every single day?

It was truly troubling her, to see that boy everyday, because she couldn’t think properly every time.

The lights from the stadium blared widely, and the deafening screaming coming from both teams’ supporters rang throughout the whole field. (Y/N) was sure the whole island could hear them too.

Two things happened earlier than evening. Number one, her skirt wasn’t completely dried after being sent off to the laundry for a week, and her hair wasn’t just cooperating.

So here she was; in a shorter uniform skirt, her hair hung up into a ponytail with lots of hairspray. She wished for nothing but to be all cuddled up with her blanket in her room.

“You’re okay?” Sarah asked. She fixed (Y/N)’s lips gently, getting the lipstick and lipliner even, and gave her a kiss on the cheeks. “Don’t worry about the skirt. It looks normal.”

For a little girl.

(Y/N) sighed and involuntarily pulled down the hem of her skirt. Ten minutes from the game now, and she was nervous she would flash everyone on the school compound.

In the locker room, Rafe was sitting right next to Kelce as his best friend prayed for a win tonight. He was never that religious, and he didn’t feel the need to mutter a prayer to anyone. But tonight, he listened intently to whatever Kelce was saying because he needed to win this cup more than anything in the world.

“You’re okay?” The coach asked, patting him on the shoulder.

“Yeah. Just nervous.”

“Don’t be, you’re the Star Player. Right?”

The Star Player.

Rafe gave him a smile, and went back to his praying.

When he first entered the field to meet the rival team, his eyes couldn’t help but scanned the bleachers to find his dad. Ward wasn’t there, but Rose and Wheezie were cheering for him.

Of course.

He sighed, and went straight to the middle of the field. It’s funny how everyone was there to support him, Rafe, the Star Player, the jock, the whatever else people were saying about him.

He just wanted Ward to see him.

“Come on, man, it’s fine,” Topper said, patting his back. “He’ll come later.”

Even his friends could see how miserable he was feeling.

The first match of the game went smoothly; he scored a try goal, everyone was cheering loudly, but it was just then that one of the opponents came knocking Rafe by his side.

Rafe fell to the ground with a loud thud, earning so many gasps from the stand.

“What the fuck?!” Topper pushed whoever responsible for his fall, and the sound of a whistle rang throughout the air. “He pushed him for nothing! You saw it, fuck!”

Rafe groaned on the ground, clutching onto his arms, and he tried to spread his fingers, but couldn’t. His other teammates were surrounding him now, trying to get a good look of him, all while Topper and Kelce and another friend of his went off to the referee.

Rafe put his other hand up, trying to sit up. “I’m fine, I’m fine! Move!”

The other members scattered away, sighing in relief when Rafe came back to his legs. The referee, still getting yelled at by Topper, shook his head at something he said, and before anyone could process what happened, Topper tackled the opponent who had pushed Rafe down to the ground.

Kelce pulled Topper away after a few long seconds, telling him to stop. But one thing about Topper is that he just won’t stop.

“Stupid fuck!” He yelled, throwing another punch.

“Topper, stop, they’re going to throw you off the field!” Kelce yelled. Finally, he separated them away after the opponent’s friend pulled his injured friend away.

The referee, expectedly, pulled a red card to Topper, earning a groan coming from their coach and the stand. Rafe cursed, knowing that Topper’s one of their strongest member. He watched as Topper tried to argue with the referee, but it was no use.

“It’s okay,” Kelce said, patting his back as he made his way back to the bench. “Relax, bro, okay?” Topper calmed down after the coach said something to him, but Rafe could clearly see the distress written on his face.

“You’re okay?” Kelce asked, pointing to his arms.

Rafe could move his muscles now though he could feel the sharp pain from doing so. But he was too content on winning this game.

(Y/N) watched as the second match unfold, her teeth biting into her lips in fear. She didn’t feel like having the next week full of gloomy students and disappointed teachers, so she wanted the cup as much as everyone else.

Rafe was fast, throwing the ball smoothly back and forth with Kelce and his other friends, but it was apparent that the Star Player wasn’t feeling like himself.

It might be the arm, or the fact that Ward Cameron was too busy with his work to see his son playing.

37 minutes had passed, and the other team was leading. They only had 3 minutes left, and with the team being so drained out and their captain with a broken arm, it was clear who was winning.

The whistle blared through the field again, noting the end of the match. As the other team supporters cheered happily the other side of the stands muttered silently to each other about the game.

(Y/N) watched as Rafe yelled something at his teammates angrily before storming off to the locker room. He winced in pain, holding his arm for support, and ignored every calls from his friends as he made his way to the empty room.

Looking around quickly, she muttered a ‘be right back’ to Sarah, and quickly followed Rafe into the locker room. She wanted to see if he was okay, and if he needed help with his arm.

In truth, she just wanted to be there for him.

“Hey,” she slowly said, and Rafe’s head perked up to see her before he looked down to the ground again.

“What do you want?”

She felt a struck of pain across her heart at his tone, but decided against it. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I was just trying to see if you need anything,” she said, and when his eyes finally looked up to her again, she unconsciously pulled her skirt down again.

“Yeah? I don’t need anything. Go!”

“Wow, you’re a dick,” she scoffed, and before Rafe could mutter anything back, she exited the locker room and straight to the cheer team. She felt a mixture of anger and embarrassment all at once, because God, Rafe Cameron did not just yell at her for trying to be nice.

She should’ve known better than to be ‘nice’ to him. He wasn’t the same 8 year old she met 10 years ago.

. . .

A week had passed from the game, and everything went back to normal.

Except for one person.

Rafe didn’t come to school the next Monday, not that (Y/N) wanted to see him after getting yelled at, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

He didn’t just broke his arm; his father also chose not to attend his game.

It was finally Friday, and (Y/N) was too happy to stay home and continue watching Love Island. Life is better when you are focused on someone else’s relationship other than yours.

She was rolling in her bed, casually smiling at the cheesy joke made by one of the contestant, and before she could hear the reply towards the joke, the doorbell blared throughout the house.

(Y/N) groaned, thinking how Kelce must’ve forgotten his keys again, and waited a few more minutes so that he would just leave her alone and go to that stupid prick, Rafe Cameron’s house.

But the doorbell rang again, and she had no choice but to open the door. She was all alone in the big house, having both her parents still working and her maids having the day off.

But when she opened the door, the boy standing before her was the last person she wanted to see.

“Hi,” Rafe said.

“Kelce’s not here,” she mumbled, and pushed the door close. Rafe’s quickly put his hands to block the door from closing, and (Y/N) pulled away after deciding not to crush his other only working hands.

“What?” She asked, in the same tone that he had given her in the locker room. She felt good when his eyebrows were raised.

“I’m here for you.”

“Why? Did I die or something?” Bingo.

“God, you’re impossible,” Rafe sighed. “Can I talk to you? Just us two?”

(Y/N) sighed, wanting to get this done, and opened the door wider to grant him into her home. (Y/N) closed the door and pressed her back against it, crossing her arms.

“Okay. Talk.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” He said. “I was just so angry with everything. I was pushed and Topper received a red card because of me—”

“You didn’t do anything, Rafe.”

“Yeah, but he was just trying to protect me. And, and I was just so mad at myself because I couldn’t play properly like I usually play. I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean it.”

(Y/N) sighed, “It’s okay. I’m over it.”

“Really?” He stepped closer, and this time, (Y/N) allowed him. “Thank you so much!”

He pulled her into a crushing hug, and before she could put her mind into it, he lifted her up and spin her around.

“Okay, okay, now you’re just pushing it,” she groaned, hitting him on his chest. “Put me down, Rafe, I swear to god.”

Rafe put her down, his face shining happily. They were close again, like that time in the lake, and (Y/N) didn’t feel like pushing him away again.

Because maybe, that 8 year old him was somewhere in there.

“Uh—” he looked away, scratching the back of his head. “Do you wanna. . . watch Netflix?”

(Y/N) cleared her throat, “I was watching Love Island. Wanna watch with me?”

Rafe nodded, anything to get closer with this girl, and followed her upstairs to her room. The first time he entered her room was 9 years ago, and it was only because Topper and Kelce had pranked him into thinking that her room was the gaming room.

“What are you doing?” The girl before him yelled, and before he could explain how he was lied to, she threw a pink hairbrush at him. He groaned from the pain, rubbing his head.

“I’m sorry, I thought this was the gaming room!”

“Out!” She yelled, and he quickly obliged.

Her room was still pink, but it was now filled with so many books, clothes and makeups instead of the dollhouse and toys he saw a few years ago.

“Is this the pink hairbrush you threw at me?” He laughed, holding the pink tool. (Y/N) snatched the hairbrush, embarrassed, and quickly stuffed them into the drawers.

He placed himself beside her on her bed, watching her as she resumed the video. He focused on the show, trying to find at least something interesting from the show, but there was nothing.

2 episodes later, he was too into the show that he pressed on the stop button before they could continue on the next episode.

“I wish they would just communicate,” he said. “Like the whole show’s pointless. They didn’t try to talk to each other about their problems.”

“Yeah, that’s what makes the show interesting, Rafe,” she said as if that was a fact, “And besides, if they communicate, everyone will win the show.”

“Then that’s just good. A win-win situation.”

“You don’t get it,” she groaned, looking into his face. “There’s no use in fighting with you about this.”

She pressed on the resume button again, and instantly, Rafe pressed on the stop button.

“Rafe, I will—”

“You still haven’t apologised for throwing the hairbrush at me.”

She widened her eyes, “That was 9 years ago.”

“And?”

“Fine,” she placed her laptop aside, and turned to fully look him in the face. “Sorry.”

“Not sincere enough.”

She groaned, “Rafe, I am terribly sorry for throwing my pink hairbrush at you. I am so sorry that it hit your face and be the reason why you’re still holding vengeance at someone.”

“I’m not talking about that kind of sorry.”

“Fuck, you’re annoying,” she said. “I’m not going to bow down to you or anything.”

“Just a kiss.”

She looked at him back, her heart stopping at his words. “No.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you’re Rafe?”

“Rafe? Okay, fine. I’m not Rafe. I’m Rafael.”

“Okay, it’s still a no. You’re Kelce’s best friend.”

“Didn’t you kiss Topper last year?”

“That was a dare—” she sighed. “And it didn’t mean anything.”

“Exactly. This won’t mean anything. This is just a sorry.”

It would mean everything to her to place her lips against his.

“This is sexual harassment.”

“Not if you want it too,” he said, and leaned closer to her. “And you do want it, right? I can see it in your eyes.”

She didn’t know why God would put her and Rafe in this damn position over and over again, because it wasn’t helping her to get over him.

She looked down to his lips, and how it was so inviting, and she wanted more than anything to kiss him, to finally give herself to him, but she was afraid.

“Rafe—”

“Shut up,” he cut her off, and pressed himself against her. Their kiss was slow and passionate, none like neither (Y/N) or Rafe had experienced before. Her hands found themselves wrapping around Rafe’s neck, pulling him closer.

He pulled away, grinning. “I thought you didn’t want this.”

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes, and pulled him in for another kiss again.

He pushed her down onto the bed gently, still kissing her, and his hands were roaming down her body. She was so, so perfect and every time he saw her, he would have to look away to stop the unwanted thoughts forming in his head.

During the game last Friday, he had to pinch himself from staring at her legs in that goddamn skirt for too long.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispered, and she hummed in response before pushing him over so she could take control. She sat on top of him, grinning widely. She was in heaven; seeing him all worked up under her with his chest heaving.

“You would be surprised at the amount of times I imagined myself on top of you like this,” she said, placing her hands flat on top of his chest.

Rafe grinned back, trying to contain his feelings. “Yeah? Wanna show what else you’ve been imagining?”

She leaned closer, making sure to brush her bottom against him and hearing his soft groans. She placed a soft kiss against his cheek, and whispered into his ear.

“Would rather have you show what you’ve been dreaming of me.”

Rafe licked his lips, loving this side of her, and he wanted more than anything to make her his. She looked so innocent sitting there on top of him, smiling and biting her lips.

Before he could touch her in ways he never did to a girl before, a voice rang from outside the room.

“(Y/N)? Have you seen Rafe? I saw his car outside,” the voice said. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed. “You’re okay? I’m coming in, okay?”

“No, no, wait!” (Y/N) shouted, scrambling from her position on top of Rafe as he quickly pulled her up, but it was too late.

Kelce saw them in the midst of trying to get away, with his sister’s leg on one side of his best friend and his best friend’s hands still around his sister’s waist.

“What. The. Fuck.”

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smuts #rafe cameron imaginens #rafe cameron one shot #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #outerbanks #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks smut

591 notes · View notes

strange-lace · 3 years

Text

Macaque

I was in the mood to make more content for Inverted AU, so here’s a short-ish fic of how episode 9 would go in this AU with Macaque, Wukong, and MK! Enjoy the shadowpeach!

Another demon defeated but still no sign of Sun Wukong. Macaque let out a sigh before rolling his shoulders to bring relief to tense muscles. Oh well, he'll just have to keep looking, not like he hasn't been at it for years now. At least this city he wandered to was quite nice with pleasant people, nothing too out there aside from demon attacks.

"Hey! Hey you! Shadow monkey man!" Macaque wouldn't deny that the sudden voice made him jump, considering he was on top of a pretty tall building. Apparently not tall enough to stop the young man from climbing up the side, somewhat out of breath yet that didn't deter from the determined look on his face. He simply brushed his messy hair out of his eyes and adjusted his teal backpack, which looked surprisingly heavy. Macaque couldn’t help but be somewhat curious as to what was in that thing.

Wait was that the Monkey King's staff in his hands?

Indeed it was, he'd recognize that weapon anywhere.

“Ah, you must be the Monkie Kid I’ve been hearing so much about, am I right?” That got him a look of suspicion before the young man also seemed to remember the staff in his hands, causing him to let out an amused huff at his own paranoia.

“Yeah, the staff kind of gives it away, don’t it? Name’s MK though. Now whomst is you? Most of the time, demons who ask me who I am are five seconds away from trying to kill me.” Macaque couldn’t help but chuckle at that, already finding that he was starting to like this little guy and his attitude. Perhaps if a person like MK was chosen to wield Wukong’s staff, then perhaps that meant his love had finally started turning things around for the better. Maybe it meant he finally stopped being someone he wasn’t all for the sake of keeping a memory alive.

“The name’s Macaque, though, the Six-Eared Macaque is actually my full name. But what brings you up here exactly bud? I doubt you’d climb up this high just for anybody.” MK’s face showed that he wanted to argue that point out of principle before remembering his purpose for coming up here.

“Simple, teach me.”

Wait what?

“What what?” MK scoffed at the question.

“I want you to teach me to fight, like how you fought that demon back there. I don’t intend on leaving you alone until you do and that is a threat!” Macaque didn’t doubt that he meant it that way and could very easily follow through on that. Sensing he wasn’t going to get out of this, he let out a sigh before giving MK a smile.

“You sure your mentor won’t have a problem with me teaching you?”

“Bold of you to assume Wukong’s disapproval will stop me.”

“Well alright then, I think we’re gonna get along just fine, bud.”

---

“I see what you’re trying to do, you’re afraid of holding back and giving your enemy the opportunity to win. But the first strike isn’t the most important one. Every strike counts. Other people may tell you that patience and focus don’t matter but a fool allows himself to rush without restraint. While you have power inside you, you have to use it carefully. Take the power to defend others, not just destroy those who stand in your way. You’re not a weapon kid, you wield the weapon above all else.”

---

It started with a fairly innocent question from MK after one of their training sessions, him slowly going through a water bottle given to him by Macaque while the monkey made them something to eat. He needed a distraction to stop himself from taking over the cooking, years of feeding others making him feel guilt the moment someone else took over.

“So Mac, how exactly do you know the Monkey King?” To his credit, Macaque only fumbled the slightest bit at that sudden question and was able to save the plate before it crashed to the floor.

“Oh um well… funny thing about that is, well… we used to be together actually. Like y’know… together-together,” he explained while he plated their food, wincing internally at how awkward he sounded. With his back towards MK, Macaque didn’t notice him go tense and grip the couch arm so tightly that the wood underneath cracked at the pressure.

“Used to be together, huh? What happened?” Macaque couldn’t help but shiver at the chill which traveled down his spine. MK’s voice was perfectly even and calm yet he was filled with an overwhelming fear that warned him to not turn around and remain perfectly still until the danger passed.

His ears twitched at the sound of sparks behind him, magic power permeating through the air.

“I… I messed up honestly. We had an argument about something, I don’t even remember what it was so long ago. But I had to leave to just get some space and air before I said something I’d regret, something I couldn’t take back. It was only meant to be a couple hours but some stuff out of my control happened and by the time I got back… Wukong was gone. I had been looking for him for centuries after that and then… well then you found me.”

“What, you hoped getting on my good side would mean that you’d win the Monkey King back?” His tone promised nothing good if Macaque kept digging himself a deeper hole.

“No! No, nothing like that at all. I don’t expect Pe-...Wukong to take me back or anything like that. I just… wanted the chance to apologize to him is all. If he wants anything to do with me afterwards, then I want that to be his choice. Nothing more, I swear.”

MK remained silent behind him before the sudden tension in the air dissipated as quickly as it appeared. Macaque let out a sigh of relief, slowly turning around to see MK still sitting on his couch, placing the staff back in his ear nonchalantly.

“Fair enough, sounds like you both were just idiots who don’t know how to communicate. If you actually intended on using me to get to the Monkey King, you’d have actually mentioned him during our training and yet you haven’t. And you can’t lie to save your life anyway. Just don’t be an idiot again alright? Monkey King… Wukong, he’s a mess and I don’t think he could handle thinking he’s been abandoned again.”

Macaque could feel his heart break at the idea that his Peaches, his love, thought that he had left permanently. He wanted nothing more than to run to him now and make things right. But that was Wukong’s decision to make, nobody else’s.

The two ate their food in silence after that.

---

Sun Wukong may have supposedly “lost his edge” but he was by no means dense or oblivious.

And while he was certainly happy about his successor’s vast improvement over the past couple weeks, a part of him sensed something was off. Like his successor was hiding something from him. And those moves he watched MK use to absolutely demolish the old mural, the Monkey King swore he had seen them before.

But it couldn’t possibly be. He hadn’t seen him in centuries. Not since he… left, like everyone else.

“I’m impressed, my boy! Tell me, how did you do that? Have you been seeing another mentor perhaps?” Wukong asked, his typically serene smile straining the slightest bit at the idea of his son student learning from someone who wasn’t him. The sensible part of his brain was gently poking at him, reminding him that it seemed silly to get upset about such a thing as, if anything, MK had appeared significantly calmer during their training compared to when they started. This could be a good thing, it told him.

Yet it was silenced by the majority of his brain which ran on fatherly protectiveness and had immediately been plagued by images of the worst case scenario. A demon had approached MK, promising him to make him stronger while also poisoning his student as a bid to turn him against the Monkey King before stealing his powers or, Heavens forbid, harming him.

No, Wukong refused to even allow a chance of that happening, logic and reasoning be damned.

“Hey, you’re the one always going on about ‘patience and focus’, I’m just finally putting what you said into practice,” MK answered, the picture of being casual which only set off further alarm bells within Wukong’s head. But before he could question him further, MK’s phone dinged to tell him of a new text message which he quickly read over, his eyes widening slightly at the message.

“Welp, looks like I gotta cut things short for now Wukong, something came up and I gotta head out. See ya later! Don’t forget to eat something tonight and sleep, I will know if you don’t.” And with that, MK was off through the hole he had created in the wall where the mural was before the Monkey King could get a word in edgewise.

Wukong waited long enough to allow MK to get a reasonable distance away before transforming into a bird, flying after his successor.

Something fishy was going on and the Monkey King was determined to find out what it was.

---

“Why exactly are we climbing up to this giant mountain again Mac?” MK wheezed, hating to admit it but this hike had genuinely winded him despite all his training. He had immediately gone to Macaque’s place the moment he got his text only to be told to follow the six-eared demon, leading them to where they were now.

“Well, consider this your ‘final exam’ bud! I want you to use everything I’ve taught you to fight against me, no holding back. Think you can do that?” MK couldn’t help the twitch at the corners of his mouth at the sight of Macaque’s genuine excitement as he explained, all six ears twitching while his tail was wagging like a dog. A demon who was centuries old and had fought countless powerful demons had no right looking that endearing, but here MK was looking with his own two eyes.

MK gave a chuckle before straightening himself out, wordlessly pulling the staff out his ear.

“You sure you’re comfortable getting your ass kicked by me, Mac?” With a smirk, Macaque summoned his own weapon in a flash of purple with the beginning of two shadow clones pooling at his feet. They shyly peeked from the ground from behind their master.

“Oho, a couple training sessions with me for a month and you think you have what it takes to defeat me, bud? Well then, bring it Monkie Kid!” MK didn’t hesitate to charge forward with Macaque mirroring him, weapons at the ready and adrenaline already running through their veins.

“Enough!”

A sudden force landed in between them with enough force to send them both flying backwards.

MK and Macaque recovered in time to see who decided to interrupt their duel.

Both of their hearts nearly stopped at the sight of the enraged Monkey King but for vastly different reasons.

“You have 5 seconds to explain yourself for trying to harm my-” Wukong’s rage quickly deflated as the dust cleared enough for him to truly see who it was he had thought was attacking MK. “Mango Flower?”

“Um… hello again, Peach Blossom. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Macaque joked, voice weak as he restrained himself from acting out of bounds even if he wanted nothing more than to gather the other into his arms. It had been so long, far too long.

He nearly broke at the sight of tears beginning to form in Wukong’s eyes.

His resolve finally shattered as the Monkey King ran towards him, arms outstretched, and before Macaque knew it his legs were moving on their own. The wind was knocked out of him at how tight Wukong squeezed him yet he returned the embrace back with gusto, ignoring the groaning of his ribs. He simply buried his face into the other’s fur, the smell of peaches still there even after all these years. Faintly, Macaque realized he was also crying once he felt a wetness on his cheeks.

Macaque let out a squeak in surprise as Wukong picked him up in the hug and spun him around, the sound of his laughter echoing throughout the mountain. The sight of such unabashed joy on his face was enough to make the six-eared demon to start laughing too, joy contagious in the best of ways.

MK would deny it unless under the threat of death but he couldn’t help but smile as he watched the two monkeys get lost in their own little world. It made the guilt which nagged at his chest at having to manipulate the two to make this meeting happen ease up, seeing how happy the two were.

“It’s been so long…” Wukong whispered as he placed Macaque back on his feet, gently cradling his face as if afraid that if he stopped touching the other, that he’d disappear again. “But, why are you here? I had thought that you hated me, isn’t that why you…” Macaque went stiff in shock before taking the Monkey King’s hands into his own.

“What? No! If anything, I thought you hated me for leaving instead of talking things out and that’s why you were gone when I came back. I always intended on coming back to you Peaches, I swear on it.” Wukong’s eyes went wide at that, extremely close to crying again a second time that day. “I had been looking for you for centuries now to apologize.”

And now the warm feeling was gone, leaving MK to bite down on his staff to stop himself from screaming at how much those two had failed at the simple of communication.

“We’ve both been absolutely foolish, haven’t we?” Wukong couldn’t help but laugh at it all, which only worsened as he noticed all six of Macaque’s ears turn red in embarrassment.

“Yeah, I guess we have been-” His words were cut off as the Monkey King grabbed his scarf, pulling him into a sudden kiss that made Macaque jolt in surprise before he practically melted into the other’s arms. A purr rumbled in his chest and neither noticed their tails wind around each other.

The sound of MK clearing his throat, loudly, was enough to get them to break apart in embarrassment.

“If you two are done being romantic idiots, I have to beat the shit out of Macaque to prove that I’m better than him. I mean ace my ‘final exam’.” The grin on his face showed that he was lying through his teeth.

“Don’t think I forgot about all your trash talking, young man. How about it Peach Blossom? You willing to go all out with me and the kid?”

Wukong’s face was the epitome of ‘Every part of my body wants to say yes but I shouldn’t.’ He was already terrible at saying no to MK and now with Macaque’s endearingly earnest face, he knew he was done for, at least with these two working together now.

“...Oh alright.”

The two mutual cheers at his agreement made Wukong feel slightly less guilty in letting his lessons go for a brief moment. But not completely.

But that was okay, Wukong was used to living with constant guilt.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #inverted au #shadowpeach #mk #macaque #sun wukong #my writing #fanfiction

263 notes · View notes

storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

Text

gods and the mortals they worship

A/N: honestly this idea started out due to the fact that scott and jack are gonna be housemates, and a friend and i were like "haha what if c!scott moved into Innit Hotel with jack" which turned into "haha what if c!scott was the god of mcc but he just seemed like a Dude to everyone else" which made my brain go brrr and think "haha what if god!scott and goddess!kristin met for tea" and then this fic happened. it got much angstier than i intended it to whoops

Warnings: implied/referenced temporary character death, grief/mourning, hugs, emotional hurt/comfort

Summary: Kristin, the goddess of death. Scott, the god of champions. Two deities that at first glance, have nothing to do with the other. But all the same, the two deities are close friends, meeting for tea and talking about the mortals they adore. However, some conversations painfully remind them of the mortality of their loved ones.

Kristin rather enjoyed it when a fellow deity joined her for tea. Not many would, XD was a little wary of her, being her opposite in a sense. And his sister Drista visited her often enough, but the young goddess was a bit on the rambunctious side, which was expected for the trickster. But the deity's whose visits pleased her the most were Scott's. The god of champions was always lovely to chat with, and she looked forward to each event he organized- always rooting for her husband's team, of course.

They met for tea weekly, but this visit... something seemed off about Scott. He seemed cheery enough, talking about how he had recently moved into the Innit Hotel with Jack and the other servers he was drifting between. But there was a melancholy expression on his face for a brief moment as he traced the flower pattern on his teacup, and a lost, faraway expression would come over his face from time to time. These were expressions Kristin recognized all too well- grief. She saw it in the faces of many mortals when she called their loved ones to her side- and it was unnerving to say the least to see such an expression on a god's face.

"Who are you mourning?" she asked, startling Scott slightly. The god's ever color-shifting eyes refused to meet her.

"The loss of my mcc team, of course," Scott countered with a half-hearted smirk. Kristin gave him an expression of disbelief, and the smirk melted away to something more downcast as he fiddled with something on a chain around his neck. A ring.

"Oh Scott," she said softly.

"Tried the married life thing. It was nice, for a bit. But it was a modified hardcore world, and it didn't end well. For him... or for me," Scott said, hand drifting to his throat with a grimace. Kristin set down her tea, placing a comforting hand on Scott's shoulder. Scott had a unique position as a god- he was one of the few who felt the sting of death. As he willingly lived among mortals most of the time, his godly power had to be diminished to do so. Which meant he could die- but it would never truly stick for him. Granted, death didn't really stick for most of the crowd he stuck around with. They would be reborn into other servers, maybe retaining impressions of the ones before- but Scott was the only one who truly remembered each server he had been on.

"I'm so sorry. Is he..." Kristin trailed off, unsure if she wanted to know if Scott's husband had been reborn into a different server.

"He's on another server with me now. Empires SMP. Calls himself the Codfather these days. I keep hoping he'll remember... but I don't know if I want him to," Scott said, eyes watery.

"Why not?" Kristin asked. If she was in a similar situation with Phil, she absolutely would want him to remember her.

"Because what kind of god can't even keep his husband alive?! I couldn't protect him before, who says I could do it now. Besides with my luck, by the time he'd remember me, I'd only lose him again. Why waste the effort on more heartbreak," Scott said, something vengeful in his tone. The aura around him tinged red, and Kristin drew her hand back with a jolt. Scott took notice of his surroundings, and with a sheepish smile his aura shifted to something more neutral and warm.

"That's why you're hiding in the Dream SMP with Jack, isn't it? You don't want to risk him remembering," Kristin asked softly. Scott let out a sigh.

"I'm not... hiding, exactly. Just lying low, somewhere where I don't have to pretend I'm not a god," Scott explained with a faraway glance.

“What if you were to tell this... Codfather," Kristin suggested. Scott wrinkled his nose in disgust in the name.

"Jimmy. His name is Jimmy," Scott corrected, sounding reverent as he murmured his name the second time. It was almost silly, a god worshipping the ground a mortal walked on- not that Kristin was one to talk. But then again, Phil wasn't exactly mortal.

"Then why don't you tell Jimmy the truth about who you are," Kristin prodded. Few knew the truth about Scott's godly status- Phil, most notably, and Wilbur. And now, she supposed, all who were on the Dream SMP. Otherwise, most knew Scott as someone who had a connection to the god of champions, and carried out his invitations to the games- not that Scott himself was the god in question.

"I... I don't know. Maybe it's safer for him if he never knows," Scott said with a sigh. Kristin squinted at him suspiciously.

"Scott, I've known you for centuries. Tell me the real reason you don't want to tell him," she said pointedly. Scott laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. With a deep breath, his expression settled into something more solemn.

"I don't want things to be different between us. I liked the way it was, on that modified hardcore world. We had a flower valley, with a pond and overgrowth and- and his silly insistence on wanting to protect me, like I was the fragile one, not him. I even experienced a brief afterlife with him, after we had lost all our lives on that world. And that... that was beautiful. But then things reset, and he was reincarnated. And how could I not follow him?" Scott said wistfully. His eyes shone with bittersweet tears, a fond smile on his face.

"You truly have the heart of a mortal, my friend," Kristin said with a soft smile. Scott chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well I certainly can't let anyone know that, think of my reputation," he joked. Kristin laughed.

"Oh please, we all know how much you cherish your champions," she teased.

"Don't tell a soul," Scott said in a mock-serious tone.

"Oh please, the only souls I know are dead ones," Kristin replied with a chuckle. Scott laughed too, but it fell short as his eyes landed on the flowers that decorated the teacups.

"I think the worst part is that he sees me as an enemy. I guess rightfully so, I pushed him away because I was afraid of letting him back in. I don't think I'll be able to look him in the eyes if we end up on the opposite sides of a battle," Scott said, voice fragile as the delicate teacups on the table before them.

"Maybe there's still time to make amends. You could extend some token of peace towards him?" Kristin suggested gently.

"Maybe. I just..." Scott trailed off.

"You just want to mope around in a world of constant hardship and destruction?" Kristin teased lightly, smirking. Scott laughed.

"I guess the Dream SMP isn't the greatest place to hide out," he said, still chuckling. Kristin was relieved to see her friend back to his more genuine smiley self, multicolored eyes glinting with amusement.

"Maybe not. Are Phil and Wilbur staying out of trouble?" Kristin asked, picking her tea back up to sip at. Scott laughed again.

"Staying out of trouble is asking a lot for your family. But I think Phil has forced Wilbur to make friends with Ranboo," he replied, picking up his tea as well.

"Oh? How did that go?" Kristin asked.

"Not sure, honestly. I think they opened a burger place? I've mostly been keeping to myself in the Innit Hotel," Scott said with a shrug.

"I'm sure Tommy loves that," Kristin said dryly.

"Oh yes, cussed me out until I threatened to not let him on mcc anymore. He changed his tune pretty quickly," Scott laughed.

"Doesn't Jack actually own the hotel now?" Kristin asked.

"Yes, but Tommy doesn't seem to know that," Scott answered with a sigh, shaking his head.

"I'm sure he'll get over it. Probably still a little jumbled from being brought back," Kristin muttered, unable to help looking miffed at that. She wasn't exactly fond of people being torn from her domain, especially by an overzealous mortal and the god who he eerily resembled. Although she couldn't exactly blame XD, the book had called him and he was forced to answer.

“Maybe life and death shouldn’t be toyed with anymore,” Scott said softly, after a few beats of silence. Kristin thought of Scott’s struggles with death and rebirth, then thought of her own family. Her husband who survived and lived, never dying- and her son, who fought and died, but ended up living.

“You wouldn’t see me complaining,” Kristin replied, voice coming out more melancholy than she meant it to. Scott looked to her with brows creased in sympathy.

“What a pair we make,” he said with a humorless laugh. Kristin laughed too, just as bleak as Scott’s own laugh.

“The goddess of death whose loved ones live, and the god of champions whose loved ones lose,” she said, voice forlorn. Scott set down his tea, dropping his gaze from Kristin’s.

“I do tend to be drawn towards the lost ones, don’t I?” he said with a weak smile.

“Nothing wrong with rooting for the underdog,” Kristin pointed out with a shrug. Scott looked at the flowers on the teacups, and his smile was a bit brighter this time around, less sad and bittersweet.

“I guess not. Maybe you’re right, maybe there is time to smooth things out with Jimmy,” Scott said, looking back up at Kristin.

“Good! Being mopey doesn’t suit you. And telling him the truth couldn’t hurt either,” Kristin insisted brightly. Scott rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“Okay Mumza, no need to get on my case. I said I’d try and smooth things over, not reveal that I’m an all-powerful god that was married to him once because I like playing mortal,” he replied, dragging out her nickname with a teasing grin. Kristin grinned back.

“I guess your situation is a little different than when I told Phil I was a goddess,” she said semi-sheepishly.

“Phil was also hopelessly head-over-heels for you when you told him. Jimmy is decidedly not,” Scott pointed out with a laugh.

“Oh Jimmy will come around eventually. If he knows what’s good for him,” Kristin said, sipping at her tea. Scott blinked at her in confusion.

“Are you threatening my ex-husband?” he asked, tone so adorably baffled that Kristin couldn’t help but laugh.

“All I meant was that he doesn’t know what he’s missing. Any man would be lucky to have captured your attention," she clarified with a teasing grin. Scott flushed in embarrassment, the aura around him tinging pink.

“You’re acting like an embarrassing mum trying to convince her son to get out there and start dating,” Scott huffed, trying to play off his flusteredness.

“You’re the one who called me ‘Mumza,’” Kristin pointed out, still grinning.

“This is rude, I’m being attacked and you’re twisting my words against me now-” Scott cut off with a laugh, unable to keep up the mock-offended act as his aura shifted back to being a neutral warm color. Scott finally looked the most himself that he had been all day- aura full of warmth, a smile on his face, and color-shifting eyes sparkling.

“Oh, whatever will you do?” Kristin teased. Scott shook his head, picking up his tea and finishing it off with one last sip before standing from the table.

“I think I’m gonna leave, actually. It’s about time I head out anyway,” Scott said. Kristin looked at how low her own tea had gotten, and sighed before standing with a gentle smile.

“Well as always, it was wonderful to have you. I hope everything works out,” she said softly, holding out her arms. Scott hugged her without hesitation, and Kristin got the feeling he was silently thanking her for her advice through the hug.

“See you next week?” Scott asked after he pulled away.

“I look forward to it,” Kristin replied. Scott smiled, giving a two-fingered salute before disappearing in a burst of color. The lightshow faded, leaving Kristin in her rather gloomy domain. The loneliness after a fellow deity left was always the worst, and the heavy conversation from before didn’t help matters much. Scott and Kristin were very similar beings for two deities that ruled over extremely different things- both of their hearts were too big, too smitten with mortals. Scott could at least compete alongside mortals if he so chose, but Kristin was in a plane of existence that her loved ones could only reach through tragedy. Perhaps Scott had it worse- Kristin could at least distance herself from mortals, while Scott stubbornly refused to. But all the same, Kristin was hopeful that things would work out for the god of champions. And maybe, things would work out for her family as well.

MCYT Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

#dsmp #3rd life smp #empires smp #mumza #scott smajor #mcyt #mcyt fic #hurt/comfort #sage writes

140 notes · View notes

juniorgman187 · 3 years

Text

Sleight of Hand (Reid Fic)

Summary: Practical Joker Reader makes the unsuspecting naive Dr. Reid the object of her most recent prank - stealing his ID badge. Category: Pure Fluff, Drabble, One Shot Pairing: Platonic Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Super brief mentioning of dark nature of job, prank Word Count: 2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Despite what anyone else may believe, or what my resting face may convey, I’m not a mean person. I don’t take pleasure in people’s pain, and I certainly don’t intend to hurt anyone.

With that being said - I do thoroughly enjoy messing with people from time to time. Which, in my opinion, is a completely different thing than being mean.

At work, I’m known for pulling harmless pranks. Keyword: harmless. The dark nature that surrounds our job can consume us whole if we let it, and if anyone needs a good laugh here and there, it’s the BAU. Sometimes we all just need reminders that life shouldn’t be taken so seriously, and my silly antics are just the remedy.

A window of opportunity for my most recent practical joke presented itself when I was packing up to leave for the day.

Right across my desk was Reid’s and to my right was Derek’s, but at the moment, Reid was parked at the kitchenette, diligently stirring his coffee and copious amounts of sugar packets together while Derek’s head was buried six feet deep in paperwork. I could tell they would both be in for a long night and I didn’t envy them for that.

“Alright, I’m out!” I announced to them both, but before I could actually get far, Derek stopped me.

“Wait, (y/n)! Hold up,” He sat up from his chair to reach me with an outstretched arm. “Can you put this back on Reid’s desk?”

I blinked hard when he tossed an object at me, so only after I caught it did I open my eyes and realize it was just a pen.

“Wow. Lazy much?” I scoffed, gesturing to Reid’s desk that was less than seven feet away. Derek was probably exerting more effort into stretching out his arm like that to give me the pen as opposed to if he just got off his butt and walked to the desk himself.

“Pleaseee,” He partially begged, causing me to roll my eyes and replace the pen dutifully. As I slipped the pen into its rightful spot in his little cup of writing utensils, something caught my eye.

Lightbulb!

Just sitting there on Spencer’s desk was his badge. It was so carelessly placed in comparison to everything else on the table that had been situated in such a carefully, almost calculated, manner.

I knew Spencer had a habit of taking it off at the end of the day, but it baffled me just how flippantly he treated it. I figured he coveted his badge, but his haphazard placement of it suggested otherwise, while simultaneously showing his humanity to me. He wasn’t so cookie-cutter perfect after all, he could be messy, too.

It was that epiphany that almost made me not want to tamper with it, but it was my own humor that pushed me to do it anyway.

Maybe it’s time Spencer learned a lesson, rather than being the one to teach it.

If he was going to just let this thing lie around like it was nothing, then how would he react if it wasn’t there at all?

I slyly looked up from the badge and to Spencer, whose back was still turned to me in the kitchen and then to Derek, who was too focused on his work to even notice that I was still here. Fully taking advantage of Spencer’s oblivion and the lack of a witness in Derek, I slipped the ID swiftly into my purse. Even if Derek wasn’t the type to be a snitch, it was better that absolutely no one knew.

Less than a millisecond after successfully concealing the badge within my bag, Spencer finally turned around and saw me lingering by his desk.

“What are you still doing here?” He asked with the slightest bit of suspicion in his voice. There was no way he could’ve known what’d I’d just done unless he had eyes at the back of his head, so I stayed calm and collected, relishing in my guaranteed safety.

“Derek wanted me to return your pen,” I explained casually from across the bullpen. I watched as Spencer strolled unhurriedly towards me, and it might’ve been my paranoia that led me to this belief, but I swore I saw his eyes dart to his desk momentarily. However, if he had noticed the absence of his badge, he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, thanks! Have a good night.” He smiled and waved back to me, showing no indication of mistrust.

Sucker.

“You, too!” I said with more zeal than the situation warranted. I was worried that might’ve given me away, but I had timed my escape so perfectly that I was already in the elevator by the time he returned to his desk, giving him no chance to inquire about my uncharacteristic behavior.

That was a close one.

When I came in the next morning, Spencer wasn’t there yet. Which was slightly strange given the fact that I was barely on time, so if he came in at any point after my own arrival, Spencer would be considered late for work. Occurrences like that only happen once in a blue moon, and usually, the reason for them are mysterious haircuts or something’s wrong. I hoped for his sake it was the former.

Now you might consider me an impeccable troublemaker, but I’d first and foremost be rendered outstandingly forgetful. I say this only because I had completely forgotten that I stole Spencer’s badge the night before. But can you blame me? It was stashed away in my purse, hidden to my immediate sight, and the object was so small that it didn’t stick out to me or add an excess of weight in my bag that would serve as an unintentional reminder. It never once crossed my mind, not even when I looked to Derek to ask, “Where’s Reid?”

With a coffee mug in one hand, Derek put his arms out to either side of him and shrugged. Suddenly, the mug precariously shook from the draft created by someone blowing right by him.

It was Reid.

“Whoa, slow your roll there, Pretty Boy. Almost knocked my coffee over.” Derek reprimanded playfully, clutching on tighter to his precious coffee that almost succumbed to Spencer’s speed when he breezed by.

But rather than apologizing or laughing, Spencer kept on his pursuit. Since the time he got here, his eyes were glued to his desk with determination. Even as he approached his desk, he hadn’t yet acknowledged me or Derek. Instead, he was mumbling to himself while haphazardly sorting through his desk. He was frantic and in disarray, a manner that worried both me and Derek.

“What’s wrong, Reid?” I leaned forward to observe his desk, which by now, was what I had to think was a direct reflection of his brain - completely chaotic. Papers were scattered, books were open to random pages, he even emptied out his well-maintained writing utensil cup.

“I lost my badge.” He answered with his attention still trained on finding it. Luckily for me, that meant he couldn’t see the sudden smirk that grew on my face as a result of his response. There was no way to hide my entertainment without biting down on my lip to keep it from contorting into a smile or perching my head on my hand and using my knuckles to hide my devilish grin.

“When’s the last time you had it?” Derek was surprisingly just as concerned as Reid and just as eager to help him find it, even setting down his coffee on his own desk to help Reid sort through his.

“I always take it off at the end of the day, and I remember setting it on my desk, but I didn’t take it home with me. I don’t recall even leaving here with it, so I must’ve left it somewhere here.”

At this point, my unbridled enjoyment of this was too much to physically contain, that I actually had to spin my chair a complete 180 degrees just to shield them from the sight of my imminent laughter.

“(Y/n), do you remember seeing it -” Derek’s voice overpowered my muffled giggles, and when he looked up to ask me that, he would’ve seen my shuddering shoulders from where I was laughing hard, yet noiselessly. I spun my chair back around and looked at him with cool indifference.

He quickly noted the shade of red I had turned and profiled the situation. But rather than outing me, he followed the instruction of my index finger to my lips and stayed quiet.

I took his alliance as an opportunity to nonchalantly retrieve the badge from my purse. At a tantalizingly slow pace, I raised it in the air, until it was so high, Reid would be able to see it dangling from my thumb and forefinger.

“Looking for this?”

Spencer’s gaze immediately shot upward to look right at the badge, before flashing to me.

What part of him reacted first, I wasn’t sure. Was it the sigh of relief or the flared nostrils and clenched jaw that came soon after?

He wasn’t even going to say anything to me before grabbing it from me, that’s how pissed he was. But my quick reflexes lunged me backward at the same moment he reached out to get his badge from me, preventing him from successfully taking it back. I couldn’t believe he actually tried that and thought it would work.

“Ah, ah, ah,” I wagged my finger left to right to communicate my disapproval. “Not so fast, Pretty Boy. I want something in return.”

He shot me the most deadpan glare. “What do you want?”

I put my finger to my chin and looked up to coyly think about it, but more so to extend his torture for just a few seconds longer. I could feel him staring a hole into me as he grew more and more impatient. “Well, it’s gotta be something good. I mean, imagine what would’ve happened if this landed in the wrong hands.”

“Evidently, it did.” He coldly replied.

“Ouch,” I feigned offense and brought my hand to my chest to clutch my heart with a short gasp. “I’m so hurt,” I said with the biggest pout.

He was not nearly as entertained as I was, and his lack of amusement came in the form of a stoic, “I’ll teach you sleight of hand.”

My body actually had to reboot at the sound of his proposal. “Wait, are you serious?” I clarified.

“Yes. It physically pains me every time I watch you try to do it, so I figure it’s better for me if I teach you how to do it properly instead of having to sit through another one of your lousy, pathetic magic tricks.”

I would’ve been offended, but I’d been begging him to teach me sleight of hand for months, so the insults were quickly disregarded by me in case he changed his mind during the time I’d take up being hurt by his cruelty.

“Deal,” I smirked while handing him his badge back.

Needless to say, I did teach the good doctor a lesson, but it seems he still hasn’t learned … for why would you teach the biggest practical joker in the office sleight of hand? That only adds to my arsenal of tricks I have up my sleeve to use against my coworkers.

Maybe I should teach Spencer another lesson and see if he learns this time around.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

reid taglist: @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #juniorgman187 #criminal minds

188 notes · View notes

silentprincess17 · 3 years

Text

The Perils of Swimming

This fic is a collab between me and the wonderfully talented artist @neivaloz on tumblr! Check out her awesome artwork that accompanies this fic! I love how we inspired each other and I look forward to more!

Summary: Link agrees to go swimming with Zelda when she gets her body back. He does not think this through, because there is one major problem: he can't swim.

Read on AO3 here!

Now that the sea in Aboda Village was directly in front of him, with Zelda no longer a ghost and made of flesh and skin, her promise of taking him out to swim actually a reality and not a passing comment at Papuchia Village, Link was beginning to regret the rashness with which he had said yes.

He hadn’t expected her to actually take it seriously. In the throes of the whirlwind adventure, he hadn’t anticipated she would actively remember, let alone take it to heart- it was now... four months since they had reclaimed the Ocean Realm? Which means it was roughly two months since they defeated Malladus. Towards the end, time seemed to fuse together, and life boiled down to essentially overcoming whatever barrier was in their way at the time. First it was restoring the tracks, then obtaining the Compass, followed by the Bow of Light and finally entering the Dark Realm to fight Malladus with the Lokomo Sword strapped to his back. By the time they reached the Compass, Link had more or less lost all notion of time, as Zelda and he grew progressively more panicked with each setback and it became an increasingly hectic race to save her body…

Link had chosen to stick with his engineering, primarily. He still felt he was more of a rookie soldier who only knew how to perform vague attacks that just so happened to work out in his favour, and without Zelda’s help as a Phantom he most certainly would have failed from the get-go. With that in mind, he chose to continue with what he had trained for up until now: to pilot the trains with mechanical engineering as his mainstay. Still, he didn’t want to completely lose what sword skills he had developed, so he regularly stopped at Hyrule Castle to train with Captain Russel and his guards. (The latter was really just an excuse to see Zelda before. Or afterwards. Most of the time it was both.)

And yesterday, Friday night, was one of those times he had gone to training, visiting Zelda before he supposedly went home for the weekend.

What he hadn’t expected was for her to insist on coming with him back to Aboda Village. He would never refuse her anything, and he assumed she might have wanted to meet Alfonso, or Niko, or really just visit his hometown, and he had agreed, staying at the castle that night. Zelda had long since given him a room close to hers, as a “more convenient place to stay” seeing how central the castle was to the rest of Hyrule.

Taking all that together, it was a surprise when she dragged him across to the small beach, where the sun sparkled against the deep blue sea, unclasped her belt that had the small sash attached to it, and pulled her dress off.

He gaped, before hurriedly turning away, “Zel! What are you doing?!”

“Taking my dress off silly, I’ve got my swimsuit underneath! We’re going swimming! I’ve finally, finally, caught up with the paperwork that accumulated whilst we were on our journey, and I finished my lessons in advance this week, for this reason! I know it’s not Papuchia, but there’s always a next time!”

What? Swimming? NEXT TIME?!

Nope, he had to ignore that for now. There was the issue of surviving the first-time round.

Because the idiot that he was, he couldn’t swim!

He lived in what was basically a seaside town, and yet, he couldn’t even paddle in the water, let alone swim.

He would drown as soon as the water reached higher than his neck!

“Link? It’s not too late, is it? I know it’s a little bit later than what I originally intended for when asking you, but there was just so much reordering to do in the Kingdom. Plus, you remember the whole scribing thing we had to undertake; it all took up so much more time than I expected. And then the weather was just awful this past week whenever I had some free time...”

Oh yes, he remembered the scribing. That whole incident had happened a week after their return to the castle, where Link had stayed behind both to physically recover himself from exhaustion and his wounds, and simultaneously help Zelda adjust to the land of the living.

On the first day, she had walked into so many doors and walls he thought she might have concussed herself, she regularly forgot she had to eat, and she didn’t have any fear of heights, despite the fact that falling with a body had pretty serious consequences. Consequently, Link felt honour bound to try to help her to remember she was, in fact, Hylian, and as such susceptible to many perils that she seemed to have forgotten over the course of the long months she spent as a spirit. Plus, she was very cute, and he blushed every time he felt her grip his hand excitedly, or drag his arm towards a bookshelf, or give him impromptu hugs for helping her.

Niko had cornered them after a week, wondering where Link had gotten too. When he found the two of them nibbling on sweet buns from Castle Town, a book on maps wedged firmly on their thighs, Link’s arm resting on the panel just above her shoulders; Niko had pulled a right fit. He had fussed over Link before declaring he would now create a tapestry to commemorate the newest iteration of legendary events. And that had taken the better part of two weeks to complete, and was now referred to as the “scribing” by Zelda and him.

“Link! Are you going to change your clothes or not? That’s the second reason why I didn’t drag you to Papuchia, because I forgot to tell you to pack your trunks.” She paused, “You do have trunks, right?”

No, no he didn’t. He’d just sacrifice an old pair of cargo pants he had. It would be fine. Probably. He made a vague motion towards his house, before deciding to put the Hero’s cap on. It would hopefully hold some of his hair back, and it would bring him luck on this death quest he was about to embark on.

Why?

Why did he put himself through this?

He sighed. He knew the answer.

This was all because he couldn’t say no to her.

He shuffled back into his home, Niko popping up whilst he half-heartedly opened his wardrobe and shuffled around some more. Spirits. He didn’t want to go back out. He didn’t want to admit to Zelda he didn’t know how to swim. Worse still, he didn’t want her to think badly of him for living by a seaside town, and yet, never having learnt such an essential skill.

Niko hobbled across on his cane to Link, peering around the wardrobe door.

“What’s with the long face? I thought you’d be excited, bringing the Princess over. Yes boy, I know she’s here, everyone heard the two of you enter town. It’s a small place, Link.”

He fished out an old, half-faded blue pair of shorts. “Zelda wants to go swimming, Niko.”

Niko’s eyes widened, “What? But you-”

Link slammed the wardrobe door shut with perhaps more force than necessary. “I know.”

Niko hesitated, before he placed a gnarled hand on Link’s shoulder. “I have a question for you Link… Do you know of any of Princess Zelda’s weaknesses?”

Well, that one was easy. “She’s absolutely terrified of mice. She will literally jump into my arms, or onto my back, to escape them.” He chuckled, “Even as a giant Phantom, three times my height, she couldn’t come near one.” He hesitated, thinking back to their recent conversations on her balcony under the stars, “She’s also scared of not doing well... but I guess this is a fear we all have…”

“That’s your answer then, Link.”

Huh? Why would knowing what Zelda was scared of make any difference?

“I can see you are still confused. Let me make it clearer. Did you judge the Princess for having those failings? Did you at any point think less of her?”

He vehemently shook his head, before stopping midway as it finally sunk in.

Oh.

Niko simply tapped his cane against the floor twice, before ambling off. “I’ll make some fried chicken for you both. One always gets hungry after swimming in the sea.”

Link scrambled into his shorts, and then ran out, just as Zelda walked up to meet him. “You were gone for an awfully long time, Link. I don’t want to imagine how disorganised your wardrobe is-”

The words bubbled out, “Zelda I don’t know how to swim.”

“-at least you’ve got some… are those even trunks? Well-”

“Zelda.” He grabbed her hand, shaking her arm a little, “Zelda!”

“What?”

“I don’t know how to swim.”

She stared, stupefied. “Why didn’t you say? I would have brought my floats!”

It was his turn to gape. “Floats?”

She waved her hands in the air. “You know those things you use to keep you upright in the water.” A frown grew on her face, “Wait, does everyone here not know how to swim? That’s quite dangerous! We’ll have to change that.”

She shook her head, gently clasped his hand, pulling him along, “But that’s for later. I’ll teach you today, Link, if you want?”

He nodded, and she smiled.

“Let’s start off with paddling first, and then progress to basic kicks!”

Time flew by again, as he started off gently peddling his feet in the water, arms spread out wide, head just about jutting above the water line as he hovered, suspended in the sea, for the first time. Once he’d mastered just holding his weight in the water they proceeded onto kicks. That involved first thrashing his legs whilst gripping onto the ridge of land to hold himself in place. Then he advanced to doing one leg at a time like a proper swimming pattern. Zelda wrapped her arms around his middle, and he had a go at moving both arms and legs in synchrony.

He was surprised she could carry him, “Link, I do exercise you know. I’m not just a fluffy Princess. Being a Phantom was quite the experience.”

She heaved him higher, and he spluttered in the water, thrashing his arms a bit at the unexpected heave, “I liked being strong, and being able to help you. So, I’m going to do the best I can with my current body too. You never know, it might prove useful on our next adventure!”

He could only smile. He thanked the Spirits for giving him the chance to meet Zelda. For going on their convoluted journey. For having her as his best friend.

Soon enough, she gently let go of him, and moved to interlock her fingers with his hands as she guided him through the waves, his legs doing the measured, purposeful kicks they had practised.

He was so focussed, he hadn’t at all noticed Alfonso on the shore, until he called out to them, probably wondering what Link was even doing in the water. Zelda told Link to keep on kicking his legs as she slowly walked backwards, screamed back that he was okay and that he was learning to swim. Both of them cringed as they heard Alfonso guffaw loudly and watched as he shook his head, walking off towards the station.

“Well, we’re nearly there, Link!” She loosened her grip on his left hand, moving to clasp his wrist instead, “I’m barely holding onto you! You’re doing it! You’re swimming!”

And he gave her the biggest smile he could, as she slowly let go, wading backwards, and he swam by himself towards her, for the very first time.

Suddenly, the idea of doing this again was no longer so horrifying.

What was there to worry about when he had Zelda, his partner, his best friend, by his side?

#the perils of swimming #zelink #zelink fanfic #zelink fanfiction #the legend of zelda #loz #spirit tracks #st zelink #collab #swimming #when you say yes to the girl without thinking #link is a besotted fool and that's why he said yes without thinking #silent writes

62 notes · View notes

bookishofalder · 3 years

Text

Pretty Girl

Pairing - Flip Zimmerman X Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, swearing, smoking, crime, (eventual) smut, racism (no slurs), sexism, general views/language of the time.

A/N: Well, here’s the prologue to the multi-chapter fic I’m working on! I hope you enjoy, feedback welcome and appreciated, especially if you notice any over-description of the reader! This is a female reader based fic.

Flip Zimmerman sauntered into the Colorado Springs police department early Monday morning, his black hair in need of a trim, a bit of a shadow darkening his unshaven face. He’d had the previous week off, after wrapping up the Klan investigation with Jimmy and Ron. The chief had insisted they each take some time, and Flip ended up taking the whole week, though he knew his partner opted to simply take a day, and Ron only a few more than that.

But Flip had needed the break-the case had exhausted him. It had drained him mentally to pretend to be one of the Klan, to agree with their views and utter slurs as if they rolled naturally off of his tongue. No, he had felt each moment with them chip away a little at his soul. So he took the time off; went fishing, watched television, did some work on his home, and spent some time with his family, who rarely got to see him. He didn’t live far from his parents, but with the hours he took on, it had been hard to visit often. They understood, but Flip knew his mother wished he would settle down, start a family of his own. She hated that he came home to an empty house, with no warm meal ready and waiting. Flip didn’t mind it so much, he was too busy at work to notice the void.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Flip wasn’t at his desk for more than twenty minutes before Jimmy came in, all smiles for Flip’s reappearance.

“Flip, welcome back kid.” Clapping his shoulder, Jimmy sank into his chair and fixed Flip with a knowing stare from across their desks. Flip frowned, wondering what had his friend in a chipper mood early on a Monday morning.

“Jimmy, the fuck are you staring at?” Flip grumbled though the threat in his voice was laced with affection for the man he’d called 'partner' for years now.

More detectives and office workers began to filter in, coffees in hand, all greeting Flip with casual ease before they settled in and began their workdays.

Jimmy shook his head, “Nothing, just glad to see your miserable face back, it’s been an interesting week.” The mischievous glint in his eyes said otherwise.

Flip didn’t look up at Jimmy’s words, merely smirking in response. He noticed then a neat stack of files on the left-hand side of his desk. When he grabbed the first, curious, he saw it was a case file of his, only it had been organized, and some of the sections of the report had been filled out for him. He stared a moment, shocked, before glancing up at Jimmy-whole was, annoyingly, still watching Flip.

He held up the file, “You do this, Jimmy?”

But he was shaking his head before Flip finished speaking, “Nah don’t like you enough.” He didn’t elaborate and Flip was too stubborn to press the issue. Whatever.

Flip glanced at the other files and saw they were the same. Someone had taken his paperwork, organized it and fill in the sections that were mostly clerical information, before returning them to his desk for him to finalize and submit. He had come in early specifically to finish off these files, and now his two-hour backlog was reduced to maybe thirty minutes of work. Impressed, and grateful, he began to work through the stack with his notes. He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but the gesture-wherever it came from-was more than welcome. Paperwork was the least appealing part of this job.

At nine, the station was buzzing with activity normal for weekdays. Ron had greeted Flip warmly when he came in, advising him that Sergeant Trapp wanted to see them in his office in an hour, before moving to his desk and checking his messages. And while it felt like any other day in Colorado Springs, Flip, ever the detective, noticed the moment the atmosphere in the bullpen shifted. Every man in the room seemed far too damn chipper.

He glanced up from proofreading his work to find many of his colleagues glancing toward the glass wall and doorway that led to the hallway, beyond which and out of sight, was the front lobby and administration desk.

After a few moments, Flip turned his chair to face Ron, whose desk was behind his own, only to see his friend doing the same thing. He frowned, “The hell is everyone in a tizzy for, Rookie?”

Ron grinned, “Chief hired a new secretary for the front desk-“

“What, Donna finally got herself a helper?” Flip cut in, referring to the homely but overworked secretary that had been asking for a second in command for years, during which team the operation of the division had nearly doubled.

“Yep,” Ron nodded, “And Donna already looks like it’s made a world of difference for her, but wait until you meet, she’s incredible. Nicest lady I’ve ever met.”

Flip rolled his eyes at this proclamation and spun back around, stacking his files together. He was glad to hear Donna had the help she needed now, it was a long time coming and would certainly make a difference for the entire station. Donna was like the mother hen, taking care of everything from coffee to endless paperwork, dealing with the public that came in, and everything else they could throw at her. She never complained, but always made the point of saying things would happen quicker if she were two people. He wondered what it would be like to have another Donna type woman in the office, but intended on giving it no further thought.

That is until he heard the distinct click of heels coming down the hallway, and glanced up, half interested, at the sound.

He did a double-take when he saw her and felt himself freeze. Stunned into stillness, Flip immediately felt that Ron using the term ‘incredible’ to describe the new secretary was entirely understating this woman. Everyone’s heads in the room turned her way, and it wasn’t just anyone who could unknowingly conjure up that kind of reaction.

Dressed in a fashionably smart secretary dress, which was a shade of dark blue that perfectly accentuated her skin, the woman was breathtaking. Curvy, with long (Y/H/C) spilling down her back in soft waves, she wore kitten heels that gave her a small amount of extra height, yet she was still short. She walked with an air of peaceful grace, carrying a large basket in her arms. But it was her smile, dazzling and genuine, that captured his attention.

Flip had to shake his head slightly, dragging his eyes away from the beautiful creature dancing into the bullpen. He refocused on his files, hoping to look busy, all the while straining his ears to hear her speak.

“Happy Monday, boys.” She sang, and a chorus of good mornings and hello’s filled the air, “I hope you like banana bread because I’ve got two fresh loaves here, one plain and one with chocolate chips-Jimmy, I made that for you.” And Flip looked up in surprise in time to see her wink at Jimmy, who gave an appreciative laugh, then thanked her.

She had set the basket down next to the water station, where there was a small foldout table set up. Sure enough, she pulled out two loaves of bread, already cut and laid out in smaller basket trays for them. She made quick work of setting out the loaves, plates and napkins before reaching into the basket, pulling something out she had wrapped in sandwich paper, and spinning around toward Flip.

He dropped his gaze before she noticed him, now making work of organizing his desk-why the hell was he suddenly so nervous? From behind him, Flip heard Ron give a small groan, “Tell me you didn’t.” But he sounded delighted.

“Ron, of course I did, don’t be so silly, it’s nothing.” This captured Flip’s attention entirely, and he gave up the pretence of tidying his desk to turn around and see what she had passed him. Inside the wrap was a slice of pineapple upside-down cake. Ron pinched a piece off with his fingers and tried it, giving an appreciative nod.

“That’s just like I remember, thank you.” He noticed Flip watching with a frown and grinned, “Oh, now, you two haven’t met yet, Flip’s just come back from vacation.” He clapped his hands together.

Flip looked away from Ron and met the (y/e/c) eyes of the young woman standing a few feet away, who wasn’t much taller standing than Flip was seated. She reacted first, though Flip did notice her eyes widen slightly before she stepped forward, all smiles.

“Detective Zimmerman, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m (Y/F/N).” She stuck her hand out. Flip automatically grasped it, noticing how entirely tiny her hand was in his own.

He tried to smile, “It’s nice to meet you, miss. Please, call me Flip.” She smiled at his words and Flip suddenly felt like his brain might be needing a jump start, as it was the prettiest smile he’d ever had directed at him. He felt warm and craved a cigarette. Or a cold shower.

“Well, Flip, only if you call me (y/n).”

Ron had watched the entire exchange with a shit-eating grin on his face, “(Y/N) here is an amazing baker, in addition to her many other skills that Donna can’t stop raving about, so before you know it, Zimmerman, you’ll be sporting a few extra pounds.”

(Y/N) giggled. Truly giggled, and Flip found himself surveying her, trying to decide how old she was. She carried herself with a confidence and ease that seemed mature, yet she did appear youthful in many ways. “It’s what I’m known for, leaving heavyset men behind me everywhere I go.” She held up her hands, as if in defence of herself.

Flip snorted, “And you take special requests?” He asked, nodding at the cake on Rons' desk.

“Oh, well that was actually what I baked for Sunday supper for my sister and me,” She leaned against Ron’s desk, her hands neatly folded in front of her, “And when I told Ron here what I was planning, he asked for a slice because I make it like his aunt used to.” She shrugged, giving Ron a friendly smile.

“It tastes exactly like hers, (Y/N), you’re the best.”

“You two seem awfully, uh, close.” Flip remarked, and while Ron seemed unfazed and unbothered by the comment, he noticed that (Y/N) seemed to flinch slightly at the words, her smile disappearing.

Flip knew he was a gruff, grumpy son of a bitch, but he was also always like that, and no one ever seemed to care. Now though, the tone and accusation that she might have assumed from his observation seemed to hit a nerve, and her demeanour shifted, embarrassed.

“Oh, yes, well Ron’s been a gem, being pretty new here himself. He’s helped show me the ropes,” She murmured, “I should get back to it-nice to meet you, Detective.” And she hurried away, still taking time to greet those she passed, before disappearing down the hall.

“Man, Zimmerman, you have a way with the ladies.” Ron deadpanned, shaking his head at Flip, who was staring toward the hallway feeling both annoyed and guilty. He glared at Ron, who was shaking his head, a hand clapped dramatically to his face, “A real Romeo.”

“Fuck off, Rookie,” He growled. A thought jumped at him then, “Wait, is she the one who did all this-‘ He gestured at his files ‘While I was off?”

Ron rolled his eyes now, “Of course she did-she helps everyone stay on top of paperwork. When I told her you were off last week, she made a point of getting you all caught up.” Again, Flip stared down the hall, his mind working.

He just wasn’t very good at socializing, or making friends. He was gruff and sarcastic and his sheer size usually kept others at a distance. He had a hard time knowing the right thing to say, especially to someone as pretty and kind as (Y/N). He hadn’t thought his words would come out the way they did, sounding accusatory, and he wished he could take them back.

Over an hour later, Flip was still replaying the interaction in his mind, over and over. When he, Ron and Jimmy re-emerged from Sarge’s office, new assignments in hand, he had come to a decision. He had never been one to simply leave something unaddressed, not if it bothered him. And while he was certainly terrible at socializing, he would never stand for himself to be ungentlemanly. First impressions were important, and he intended to correct this one.

While Ron and Jimmy continued toward the bullpen, Flip turned right and stomped down the hallway, entirely missing his friends exchange a knowing look behind his back. As he approached the front desk, his eyes peeled looking for her (y/h/c) hair, he was surprised to notice how tidy and welcoming it now looked.

(Y/N) had made quick work of reorganizing and decorating, which was probably why Donna was nowhere to be found, no doubt in the files room making work of the backlog she’d been complaining about for years. Flip figured she must be in the best mood of her life.

The reception was empty, however, and Flip wondered where (Y/N) must be. He continued to march forward, considering if he should look around for her, or wait at the desk, when a door on his left, which led to the bathrooms, opened. Before Flip could stop, she was suddenly hurrying out of the doorway and slammed directly into his side, gasping in surprise.

Flip had just managed to turn his body slightly toward her before they collided, allowing his arms to shoot out and large hands to grab her shoulders as she bounced off of him and fell backwards. Steadying her, he peered, “Damn it, darling, I’m sorry-are you alright?”

She was wide-eyed, her head tilted back to meet his eyes. He released her, taking a polite half step back. “I’m fine, goodness, I should apologize, I ran out of there like a bat out of hell.” Her hands moved to her waist, where her dress tie sat, and began to redo the knot absentmindedly.

Flip raised a brow, “Something scare ya?” When her face flushed at his words, his eyes drank in the sight, heart rate speeding somewhat. He watching her curiously.

“I, um,” She sighed, her eyes closing briefly as if attempting to find the strength to speak, “It’s silly, I was washing my hands and noticed a big spider and I really, really hate spiders-I live alone and I can never kill them easily, I always get the broom so I can stay far back, so I thought I’d run out here and find a broom-“ Abruptly, she stopped speaking when Flip began to laugh, and after a moment of uncertainty, a smile spread across her face-dazzling white teeth on display.

“I can kill it for ya’, no need to resort to desperate measures,” He joked, happy to see his words cause her to giggle slightly, “But do me a favour?” He added, his expression becoming serious.

(Y/N) glanced up at him curiously, “What’s that, detective?”

Flip took a breath, “Accept my apology, for earlier,” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I’m a grumpy S-O-B and my words came out harsher than I intended, I only meant to tease. I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair nervously as he spoke.

She seemed to consider his words for a moment, crossing her arms across her chest, a small smile on her pretty lips. Flip kept his eyes on her face, not wanting to be disrespectful by ogling her, but it was impossible not to notice the way her bust pressed out when her arms wrapped under them. He needed a cigarette. And probably a proper smack around the head.

“Of course I accept, detective,” (Y/N) was smiling properly now, “Jimmy warned me you were a mean lumberjack-his word, not mine. I just-“ She paused, “Worried I’d given the wrong impression, is all. I’ve got a good work ethic and don’t want anyone thinking I’m silly or chatty over hardworking.”

Flip was surprised at how serious her tone turned, her words heavy with concern. “You organized all my files for me, while I was off?”

“Yes-why?”

Flip laughed, “Darling, that knocked two hours of painful catch-up off my plate and we hadn’t even met before, I can already tell you’re impressive, so if anyone here ever tries to question that, you send them to me.” He huffed, glancing at the bathroom door, “I’ll go kill that monster in there for you.”

She had flushed again at his words, something that sent a jolt of electricity through his core. Flip realized he was well and truly fucked for this woman, and he’d only known her an hour.

“Wait,” He paused at the door to the bathrooms, glancing back. She was giving him her best little grin now, “Thank you, Flip.”

He merely nodded, before stepping through the doorway to kill the damned spider.

Although, he thought, maybe he should thank it instead.

Chapter 1

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

#flip zimmerman x reader #reader insert #adam driver x reader #adam driver #fanfic #smut #multichapter #flip x you #Zimmerman x reader #fluff #friends to lovers #best friend #feedback appreciated #Fem reader #prologue

330 notes · View notes

movedto-erodasghosts · 4 years

Text

the moment | timothée chalamet

moved blogs - @erodasghosts

practically a spinoff thing for perfidy by @peeterparkr and reading perfidy would help make this better. To read as a stand alone fic, just picture “Tom” as someone y/n used to like but he hurt her.

Description: where we get to see a little bit of y/n’s relationship with timmy

Word count: ~4,600

Warnings: none

A/N: the rain part is heavily inspired by chapter 8 of perfidy where y/n describes when she knew she loved timmy. Also heavily inspired by Nancy’s moodboard of dates with Timmy. I loved writing this so much, I hope you enjoy!

masterlist

---

“Okay, okay,” you rested your hands on the table, “tell the story again?”

Timmy let out a soft chuckle, “Really? Didn’t you save the video?”

“I just… need to hear you say it in person.” You smiled widely, “It’s too cute.”

He couldn’t help but smile with you. Something told him you just wanted to hear the story again just to tease him, no harm to come of it though. He couldn’t blame you, he had even teased himself about it and found it rather silly.

“Alright,” he sighed dramatically. “So, I found this toad the other day, right? And it was missing a leg. So… I watched it for a bit before going back inside and going to bed.”

Timmy was a dramatic story teller, it was rather entertaining. The theatrics of it didn’t always come from the words he used to describe stories but the amount of time he spent telling it. To end it short would only leave people with questions. To draw it out longer would give people more to consider. He made stories last regardless, giving people opportunities for questions and any random thoughts. It seemed to be a way of letting everyone feel more involved so it wasn’t so one sided. He didn’t like to focus on himself too much, he was much too interested in everyone else.

“Oh, that’s it?” You raised a brow, “ It didn’t happen to be two in the morning? And you didn’t happen to cry because the toad was missing a leg?”

“Well,” Timmy pursed his lips as if to consider your words, “now that you mention it… I might’ve been a little tired when I found it, and possibly a small bit upset when I found it was missing a leg.”

“Small bit? Tim, you cried.” You brushed some hair behind your ear, “Like, actually cried. I saved the video!”

Quickly, you pulled out your phone to watch the video of a teary eyed Timotheé. Everything about the video was chaotic, it only made the story better.

“Okay, I— this is so bright— I just found this toad,” he held it to the camera, “I was like, ‘Oh! Neat! A little toad!’ But then, then I picked it up and…” He nearly choked on his words, the camera moving sloppily and never focusing on just one thing. “It only has three legs! Y/n, y/n it only has three legs. Are you seeing this?” He held it to the camera again, “Imagine how much harder traveling must be for him. The poor thing.”

“Do we have to finish watching this?” Timmy was grinning boyishly, “I mean, you’ve already seen it and I lived it.”

You gently hushed him before looking back to your phone screen, “Shh, shh, it’s getting to the best part.”

He gave a melodramatic frown to the toad before looking at the camera again, “I just, hmph… I had to show him to you, I love him so much. Okay, say goodbye to him, wish him the best.” He stroked it with his thumb, showing the camera one last time before setting it down and waving goodbye. “I know you’ll live a good life. I’ll miss you, visit anytime.” The camera turned back to Timmy who now had tears swelling, “Can you believe it? Such a darling boy… I hope he gets to be happy.” With a sniffle, he dried his eyes. “Okay, that’s all… you just had to see him. I’m sorry, it’s late and I’m crying…” he laughed and shook his head. “I hope he lives a happy life… well, goodnight… or morning?”

The video ended with Timmy lazily struggling to stop the recording, his eyes red and his hair a complete mess. You couldn’t help but hold the biggest smile and he did his best to hide behind his curls. His fingers curled into his palm, resting his hand on his chin and elbow on the table. Part of him was slightly embarrassed, only because the video was played in public. He couldn’t care less about the fact that you saw him practically breaking down over a toad, he only cared that strangers heard him breaking down over a toad.

“I think…” you began, “Well, you know how you asked me when I knew I loved you? I think that when I first saw that video… I just, I knew, you know?”

He held back a laugh, “Ah, that’s the moment, hmm?”

“Yes! Absolutely, one thousand times yes! It was just mind blowing,” you exaggerated with your hands. “I had never seen you like that before and, honestly, it just really pushed me to my realization.”

“It’s fair, really. I mean, had you sent a similar video I have no doubts that it would be the moment I knew I loved you.” He took a sip of his tea, keeping his eyes on you.

Timmy was playing along with your game, it was back and forth teasing. He couldn’t help but wonder, though, when had you fallen in love with him? He had asked before but you seemed to avoid the question and he didn’t push. Maybe you hadn’t yet, and that was okay. It did make him worry no matter how much he reminded himself it wasn’t like you would fall in love in the exact same moment as if your lives were a book. But still, at times his mind would wander.

“When was it?” He licked his lips and placed his cup back down.

“Hmm?” You fiddled with your pastry, avoiding eye contact.

He rephrased, “When was it you actually fell in love with me?”

Crumbs fell to your plate, it gave you something else to look at rather than him. He never intended to make you nervous, so he soon regretted ever asking. The thing was, there didn’t seem to be a defining moment yet. There were so many things about Timmy that made you stop and think about how amazing of a person he is. From his gentle words to his grand gestures. You could say that to him, but it didn’t sound real. If you were going to answer him you wanted it to be something more concrete.

Part of him craved an answer. He wanted you to take your time, for your relationship to take its time too. And Timmy wasn’t someone that needed constant validation but he couldn’t help himself at times. He knew you cared for him, that’s what mattered most. Really, he wasn’t sure why he was so insistent about knowing. Well, maybe…

He tried his hardest not to be the jealous type, and normally he wasn’t. He trusted you and the two of you were always able to openly talk about things, but… something about your relationship with Tom made him second guess himself. He couldn’t even figure out why, other than it was painfully obvious that Tom liked you and you couldn’t even see it. The issue was, Timmy knew that the “enemies” thing was an act, even if it was just one sided. He knew that you didn’t like Tom, at least not anymore, but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if you did.

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted his own thoughts. “You don’t have to answer that.”

You awkwardly kept your eyes on the crumbs now scattered around your plate. If only he knew, and if only you could tell him.

“If you keep doing that you’ll hardly have any left.” He smoothly took the pastry from your hands and bit into it. “Hmm, it’s delicious.”

Letting out a small laugh you straighten your posture, “You’ve got a little filling on you.”

“Oh?” He sat it back on your plate, “Could you get it for me?”

You nodded, sitting on the edge of your chair to get closer. Slowly, you reached across and lightly wiped the filling off with your thumb. Timmy’s smile never seemed to fade away. He was always so warm and gentle, even in the toad video from two in the morning. It was like with him any moment could be put on pause to just sit back and admire it for what it was. With him it was like you could breathe. Like, even if it was temporary, the air around him wasn’t so stuffy and thick, but it was clear.

Your hand seemed to linger, not that he minded. He simply took your hand in his own, pressing a kiss to your palm before resting both of your hands on the table. His thumb faintly skimmed over your knuckles as he watched the wheels turning your head.

He tilted his head slightly, “Something on your mind?”

“I always have something on my mind, you know.” You timidly pulled your hand away to put your phone back in your bag, “We should probably get going so we can beat the rain.”

Tim cleared his throat and began gathering his things. “I wouldn’t mind getting stuck in it, sometimes the rain is nice to just step into.”

His words brought another tender smile to your face. Most people would be canceling the day’s plans because of a chance of rain later that evening, Timmy just pushed through and even hoped the rain may come earlier than planned. You liked the rain too and didn’t mind going out in it from time to time, it was relaxing in ways.

“I’d rather be home when it starts, I think.” You held his hand as you both started your way home.

He nodded, “I can understand that. But, would it be so bad if it started before then? It would be like a movie scene.”

The thought made you grin, he was right. One of the biggest clichés in the book and you nearly forgot. Part of you longed for a movie moment like that, you had them all the time with Timmy though. It was nice, you wouldn’t lie. At the same time, a huge part of you just wanted to smoothly make it home, no movie moment.

“I guess that part of it would be sweet. Almost like a frozen moment in time.” You moved closer to him, “I’d take any chance to be frozen in time with you.”

His lips curled into a smile at your cheesy words before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Maybe we’ll get the chance again.”

“Hmm, I wish. I’m not exactly dressed for a downpour though, especially not with my camera out,” you held it up.

Timmy took a quick glance, you were right. Your sneakers would be soaked within moments and your jacket wouldn’t keep you warm for long. Timmy wasn’t dressed much better though, having on sneakers as well, and jeans that would easily stick to him when wet. He could stand it though, it wasn’t a bother, and he would gladly help to keep you warm with his own body heat.

He recalled that you loved walks in the rain, no matter how soaking wet you may get. But lately something was off, he could tell. He kept brushing it off, chalking it up to overthinking. Of course you didn’t want to get caught in the rain that day, it would be freezing and your camera could get ruined. Normally, though, you still wouldn’t mind. It was like you were running from something.

“We can put the camera in your purse, it should help keep it dry. As for the rest, well,” he let your hand go before wrapping an arm around your waist, “I’ll help keep you warm as we make our way home.”

You chuckled, leaning into his side. “In that case, I look forward to the rain,” you half joked.

“See?” He smiled, “Simple solutions. I’m glad to be of assistance.”

Once again, he let go of you to give a dramatic bow. You laughed, watching as his hair fell in front of his face. He even tucked one foot behind the other, adding to the drama of it. He did what he could to make the relationship feel the same, to help you find the beauty in small moments like that again rather than pain.

“Ah, thank you for your kindness,” you gently bowed back towards him.

“Of course, of course. Anytime, you know.” He took your hand in his, gently swinging it as you continued the walk.

You walked in silence for a few moments, just taking in the busy sounds from around you. There were fewer people out that day, due to the expected rain, which gave plenty of new picture opportunities. You loved pictures full of life, whether it was crowds of people or a field of flowers. But, you loved pictures that seemed empty, or even more serene in a way, too. Overall, you just enjoyed taking pictures of life. From the most crazy and crowded moments to the most calm and seemingly boring moments.

“Let’s get a picture here really quick?” You stopped at a shop window, gently tugging Timmy’s sleeve to get his attention.

He stepped back and stood beside you, “Of course, it’s a nice opportunity.”

You held the camera up, ready for the picture. Timmy put one hand in his pocket, the other rested on the small of your back. He placed a kiss on the top of your head, freezing there for a moment as you took the picture. Instinctively his eyes shut too, allowing him to easily slip into his thoughts for a moment.

He loved that you took pictures of moments like this, he knew it meant a lot to you. To be able to hold a memory in such a way was incredible and it helped to better remember. It wasn’t just a picture, it was a memory. Even if it was only a memory of going for tea that morning, it was a memory. One he knew that you’d both find yourselves dwelling on.

You both seemed to find such pleasure in the smallest of things. The rain, tea, toads, anything. Unlike Tom, who seemed to have to make everything into some huge attention grabber for it to be even slightly memorable. Timmy couldn’t stand that, it was like it was a show for everyone else. Timmy didn’t need to prove to anyone that he loved you with grand schemes, what mattered to him was the little things that you shared between the two of you.

“Alright, got it,” you smiled.

His eyes opened back up, snapping himself out of his mind. “You’ve gotten a lot of good pictures today.”

“With most of them having you as the subject, I’d agree,” you grinned up at him.

“It’s your talent with photography that makes them so good,” he chuckled.

“Maybe, but you definitely add to it’s perfection.” You kissed his cheek, “Even if I know you cried about a frog at two in the morning.”

“A toad,” he corrected. “And what kind of monster wouldn’t cry about a toad at two in the morning?”

“It’s just a toad,” you began walking again with a small smile on your lips.

“Just a toad?” He joined your side again, “I don’t think so! He was special, not just like any other toad.”

You teased, “You’re actually defending a toad?”

“Maybe I am. You were attacking him.” He played along, lightly nudging your shoulder.

Your hands went into the air in a mock defense, “My greatest apologies for attacking him. I hope I didn’t offend too greatly?”

“Hmm,” he raised a brow and stroked his chin as if he was deeply thinking. “No, nothing you can’t make up for.”

“Make up for? In what way?” You were already grinning as you looked up at him.

His arm made its way back around your waist, his fingers landing on your hip. Your pace slowed a bit, only slightly, as you synced your steps.

“Dance with me when it rains,” he said simply. “It would make up for it a thousand times over.”

You chuckled, “I’d dance with you anytime, Tim.”

He inhaled, holding his breath for a moment before saying, “I know, but I’ll take every chance I get.”

“I would too, plus it’s a simple enough way to pay you back for the frog insult.”

“Toad.”

“Right,” you laughed, “toad.”

He hoped it would rain. Before he simply looked forward to the rain because he was expecting it anyway, now he was waiting for the rain as if he relied on it. He needed the chance to be with you closer, longer. He needed a reason for the day to be memorable for more than just tea. Timmy knew you’d adore that day for the rest of time, even if it ended in this very moment, but it was like he needed to be sure of it.

Lord, he was becoming Tom. Couldn’t the day be lovable enough as it was? It already was. There wasn’t a moment through the day with you where he didn’t seem to have butterflies in his stomach, other than moments like this where he couldn't help but think of Tom.

No. No more Tom. Timmy was still far from Tom. His gestures, like wanting to dance in the rain, was for just the two of you, not anyone else. Tom needed everyone else’s approval, Timmy was only focused about the happiness between the two of you.

“Guess you should get ready to dance,” you spoke up, quickly tucking your camera into your purse.

Timmy glanced at your movements before looking up to the sky, seeing how dark it had suddenly gotten. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw the rain approaching.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he held both of your hands and pulled you to a wider section of sidewalk.

He wasted no time, beginning to dance with you the moment a raindrop fell. You wouldn’t deny it, even though you were previously dreading the coming rain you were happy it was there now. You had forgotten how much you missed it. You missed that moment in time where it was truly like nothing else mattered. It was just you and Timmy, frozen in your own movie moment.

It was clear that the wheels in his head were finally taking a pause, he too was just enjoying that moment. Normally, Timmy wasn’t one to get lost in his thoughts so frequently. He spoke openly, sharing his thoughts so he could talk through them with someone. You understood, even admired it, but there was a part of you that wanted to hold certain things to yourself. There were some things you wanted to process on your own before even thinking about sharing with anyone else, and there were other things that you just wanted to ignore forever. Timmy knew this and he never wanted to make you feel pressured to talk but he just couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to share, to just talk through your pain and memories. But, he respected it.

You wanted to share, truly, but you weren’t even sure where to begin, and, you didn’t even know if you actually could bring yourself to talk. Timmy swore that there were things between you and Tom that were unsettled that you needed to talk about, and maybe he was right, but you couldn’t see it. You felt like you were stuck in a spot that had no way out. It felt like you had no words to share, and, while no one was trying to make you feel that way, you felt pressured to talk. It felt like Timmy deserved more. Like he should have an explanation, like he should get to know his moment, the one where you knew you loved him.

You had no answers to offer anyone though, not even yourself. You didn’t know why people were expecting you to explain so much. Why did people need you to explain why you never liked Tom? Why it didn’t matter if Tom ever liked you or still did-- though you would assure people he didn’t-- because you were over him. Or were you even over that?

Tom was cruel. He was careless, inconsiderate. And, sure, you had a crush on him for a while, but that’s all it was. That’s all it could be. He hurt you, how could you possibly still like him? And, you loved Timmy so none of that even mattered anymore.

Timmy.

You knew you loved him, with or without that defining moment. Maybe this could be it. The rain, his fingers intertwined with yours as you danced and laughed. No, this wasn’t it. It couldn’t be, not when you had let your mind wander so far. So much for staying frozen in the moment.

Still, you danced with him and acted as if you were still focused on only that. His mind may have stopped for a break but it seemed yours had just kept going. He noticed, you were like an open book at times with him. But, you were both deciding to push it aside.

“When was the last time we even got to do this?” You laughed as he dramatically spun you.

He smiled, “Too long, I guess we’ve just been waiting for the rain.”

“I’m glad it’s finally here, even if I’m freezing cold.” You waddled closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and continuing to sway inplace together.

“Hmm,” he rested his chin atop your head and curled his arms around you, “I did say I’d keep you warm.”

You closed your eyes, resting a cheek on his chest and breathing in. The metallic and earthy smell of him brought an instant peace. You could feel and hear his heart beating slowly, calmly. Heat was somehow radiating off of him still, even through his cold and wet clothing. It was nice, just his presence and being was calming and felt nice to be around. It was now that you were really being pulled into the movie moment, your mind now filled with nothing but thoughts of how being around Timmy was like going out after a storm.

It was like walking out, feeling the sun hit your skin as it was slowly beginning to warm everything up again after a downpour. Like inhaling that musty yet sweet smell of the ground as it was soaking up the rain, reclaiming it after it’s fall and working with it to help return to earth. The smell wasn’t just coming from the rain either, it was just how Timmy was, and you couldn’t get enough of it. It was the serenity after the storm that people so rarely talk about.

“Can’t we stay this way forever?” His words were muffled, mixing with the sounds of raindrops seemingly falling harder.

You were still slightly swaying together, earning looks from those rushing by you in a hurry to escape the rain. Neither of you could be bothered by it though, you were in your own world. Admittedly, it probably wasn’t such a good idea to be staying out in the cold rain. The two of you couldn’t care less in the moment, though you’d probably regret it later, because it was like you had only been standing there for a minute, but at the same time it was as if it had been an hour even if it was only about ten minutes.

The rain was coming down harder and harder, preventing you from being able to stay out much longer.

“I think it’s time to stop dancing,” you smiled, looking around for any form of shelter you could find. “Look, that shop has a shade we can use.”

Without hesitation you ran off, ready to get out of the downpour. You hadn’t noticed at first but he hadn’t followed, only a few steps away from where you were both standing just a second before. He was slowly making his way over, not seeming too focused on actually making it though.

“Timmy,” you called out, “what’re you doing? C’mon, it’s too heavy.”

And then you heard, music playing from someone’s balcony. It was gentle and steady, sounding almost like a recording but it was clear that it wasn’t. Timmy’s eyes were locked onto that balcony, right above the shop you were using for coverage. His shoulders were relaxed, his head slightly tilted as he listened. He was too focused on the music to care about how hard the rain was or how cool the air was turning. You were focused on watching him, slightly taken aback by his actions.

“Come see,” he beamed, “it’s so peaceful.”

You were grinning, watching as he smiled ear to ear, being so happy watching them. His gaze went back to them, eyes twinkling in the light shining from their apartment. His curls were dripping, messily scattered about and some sticking to his face. He looked like he was in a state of tranquility, completely free of all the worries he had been dealing with. It was soothing enough on its own just to see him so, it was like he was able to share with you how it made him feel simply through one look.

Taking your camera out, you took a picture of him as he looked up to the balcony, wanting to keep that moment with you forever because that was it. A few weeks ago when Timmy had asked you when you fell in love with him you gave some silly response, too anxious to think about it. He brought it up again earlier that day, and you still couldn’t give an answer. Now the answer was standing right infront of you, finally it was something worthy of sharing, not just something random and laughable.

You put the camera back in your back, quickly joining his side. “It sounds beautiful.”

“Doesn’t it?” He leaned into your shoulder, “The rain just adds to it all.”

“It does,” you agreed, wrapping around his arm. “But, we should go before we get sick.”

Timmy laughed as he slowly pulled himself out of his trance, “That sounds like a good idea.”

With looped arms you began your walk home once more, feeling somewhat more lifted by what had happened. All it took was that one moment, that moment of proof and reassurance. You were reminded of what a kind and gentle person Timmy was, not that you had ever forgotten. He did his best to enjoy life for what it was, cherishing every moment he could no matter how small. You tried your best to do the same but found yourself slipping at times, it was a reminder to enjoy things more. To take that step back and make yourself the main character of a story, even if it was temporary. Timmy helped you to do that.

He loved to see you so relaxed again, free from your mind. You were both too wrapped up in too many what-ifs and were worrying about things that were out of your control. The rain was what you needed, to help pull you back to earth. It was that moment, where he was able to put life on pause and you were able to come back into that serenity.

The awkward tension from the cafe was gone, truly gone, not just shoved aside. Timmy wasn’t craving to know the exact moment you knew you loved him because all that mattered to him was that you did. You didn’t feel like you owe anyone an explanation for anything anymore, whatever you had with Tom was in the past now and you knew Timmy’s moment. It really wasn’t a permanent solution, these feelings, at least the untouched one’s about Tom, would likely arise again. But, at least for that moment, you could go without confronting them.

#perfidy #timothee chalamet #tom holland #timothee x y/n #timothee chalamet x reader #perfidy inspired #my writing #timotheé chalamet #timotheé chalamet x reader #timmy chalamet #timmy chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timotheé chalamet x you

355 notes · View notes

deep-space-elf · 4 years

Text

Cullen x Reader - Misheard

Summary: Y/N wants to finally confess her feeling to Cullen, but when she arrives at his tower, she overhears something that makes her question his feelings for her.

Word count: 3326

Warnings: None really, expect maybe that it’s a little angsty

A/N: You can also find this fic on AO3

Y/N felt a little silly, but she just wanted it to be perfect. She looked into the mirror for the 5th time in the last 10 minutes. The dress, a gift from Josi, really looked lovely on her, but would Cullen like it? Not so long ago, she always rolled her eyes at girls who would behave like her just then. Looking perfect for a man… But tonight wasn’t just any night. She was determined to confess her feeling for her commander, and it wouldn’t hurt to look lovely for that occasion, right?

She looked into the mirror once again, and shook her head. She was pretty sure that Cullen felt the same, and he has seen her at her worst, right after a whole mountain dropped on her, half frozen to death. Stop being silly and just go! No more excuses! She took one last breath and made her way to Cullen’s tower.

As she walked through the atrium under the library, Solas looked up from his book and raised one of his thin eyebrow when he saw her. A small smile played around his lips. “Good evening, Inquisitor.”

“Evening, Solas,” she said curtly and walked past him. Just before the door closed behind her, she heard Dorian asking Solas a question, that sounded strangely like “Is it finally happening?” and “It looks like it”. She was so not looking forward to the teasing, that she knew would be happening. But Cullen was totally worth it.

When she reached the tower, she hesitated. Her hand was already raised, ready to knock, but of course, her mind choose that moment to question her intend. What if he didn’t feel the same? Maybe he was simply nice and not romantically interested in her. She would make a fool of herself, and would never be able to look into his eyes ever again! That certainly would make war room meetings awkward.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a strange noise from the inside. She froze and waited. There it was again, but she couldn’t tell what it was. She looked around, to see if anyone was watching her, but luckily, the few people who were still wandering in the courtyard, were busy walking towards the tavern. She leaned her ear against the door, and waited.

There it was. A soft moan from Cullen. A cold shudder run through her body and her heart clenched almost painfully. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

Of course he could sleep with whomever and whenever he wanted, they weren’t anything but friends at the moment, but the fact that it happened on the night she wanted to finally confess her feeling, felt like a slap in her face. She couldn’t help but wonder why he choose to sleep with someone else, when he knew that she she was interested. Or at least she thought he knew. Maybe she was right before, and he simply wasn’t interested romantically in her. Tears of hurt and frustration blurred her vision.

She rushed back to her tower the same way she came.

“Inquisitor?” Solas asked, surprise and worry carrying in his voice.

She ignored him, threw the door open, and let it crash back in the lock behind her.

“What happened?” Dorian asked the elven mage.

“I’m not sure,” Solas said. “But she was clearly upset.”

Dorian huffed. “I’m going to kill him.”

Solas might not much like the Tevinter, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed by his loyalty to their leader. Especially after such a short amount of time. “I think that would only upset her further.”

---

She barely slept that night. Her thoughts kept repeating what she had witnessed tonight and how to handle the situation from there. She was hurt, though she knew she had no right to feel that way. Even if Cullen felt the same, they weren’t in a relationship, and he had every right to see whomever he liked. It just irked her, that he was giving her so much hope, but then slept with someone else.

Almost every exchange they had, in the last couple of weeks, were heavily streaked with flirting. A suggestive sentence here, a little shy smile there, and oops was that an “accidental” touch? There was tension between them, so obvious, even Dorian noted it while watching from the small window in the alcove he claimed in the library. Needless to say he teased her all the time about it, and constantly asked about updates about they liaison.

She had told him a hundred times that there was nothing going on, but Dorian kept on pushing. He knew she had feelings for their commander, and he insisted that Cullen felt the same. “You should see how he looks at you! I can see those heart-eyes all across the courtyard,” he would say. And she believed him. Dorian had a little mischievous streak in him, but he would never mislead her with matters of the heart.

But now she couldn’t help but wonder, if maybe Cullen was nothing more but fascinated with her, because she was the Herold, their Inquisitor, and not because he was interested in her as a person. Maybe she misread all their flirtation, and it wasn’t the way she saw things. After all, Cullen wasn’t very skilled with words, and sometimes, he said things without thinking, and correct himself - almost too late - what he had just said.

Or maybe, or maybe, or maybe… ugh. She rolled on her stomach and covered her head with a pillow. I hate being in love.

---

The war room meeting went as awkward as one can imagine. Y/N couldn’t bring herself to look at Cullen, even when he was directly talking to her. That resulted in several curious and questioning stares from her advisers, or confused and hurt ones in Cullen’s case. She knew she was handling the situation badly, even a tad bit childish, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“I think that’s everything for today,” Josephine said cautiously. Actually, there were still several things she wanted to discuss with the Inquisitor, but the woman was obviously not in the… what? Condition? Mood? Whatever it was, she assumed it was better to end it here, and discuss everything else, once their leader doesn’t look like she’s about to kneel over any second.

Y/N nodded. “Good.” And with that, she turned on her heels and basically fled from the room.

“Inquisitor,” Cullen called after her, “if you have a moment…”

“Sorry,” she answered, without turning around, “maybe later, but I’m rather busy.”

Cullen turned to the two other advisers, baffled by the Inquisitor’s behaviour today. “With what?”

Josephine only shrugged. Leliana’s eyes followed Y/N until she was out of sight, before she turned towards Cullen. “There is obviously something bothering her. Give her some time.” She didn’t however said that she assumed it had something to do with the commander. She noticed how uncomfortable Y/N became as soon as Cullen entered the room. Interesting.

Cullen shook his head. Sometimes it felt like every woman he knew, was ought to make his life even more complicated than it already was. He wondered if there was something he has done, that made her act so strangely.

He thought about the last time they spoke, yesterday morning, and couldn’t come up with anything that might have upset her. On the contrary, she even suggested they should have dinner together sometime, so Cullen could introduce her to all his favourite Fereldan meals. His heart had skipped a beat at the suggestion. His heart sank however when re realised that maybe she was regretting making such a bold proposal.

He had to get to the bottom of this. If anyone knew what was going on with her, it was Dorian.

---

Cullen found the Tevinter mage in the library, where he seemed to spend most of his time. He approached him, while the mage was looking for a certain book in one of the shelves. “Dorian? May I have a moment of your time?”

Dorian turned his head in his direction, and Cullen almost made a step backwards when he saw the hatred in the other men's eyes. Was everyone bugged by his presents today?

“Depends on what you want,” Dorian said, the usual playfulness in his voice was absent.

“I-I wanted to talk about Y/N,” Cullen said, scratching his neck.

The Tevinter turned fully to him, with his eyes narrowed. “What a coincidence! I wanted to talk about her with you as well,” he said mockingly. “Solas stopped me however. He thought it would upset Y/N only further.”

Cullen peaked up at that. So he was right, Dorian knew what was going on. “So she is upset. Do you know what caused it?”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Dorian’s eyes narrowed dangerously now. “No, I’m not sure what caused it, but I have a pretty good idea who.”

“Who? Well, who was it?” Cullen asked. When someone upset her, he wanted to know, and maybe have a few words with them.

“Obviously, you!”, the mage almost shouted, which earned him a couple of “shhh” which he ignored.

“Me? But what have I done?” Cullen asked. He really had no idea.

Dorian crossed his arms over his chest. “I would like to know that as well. All I know is, she went to your tower last evening, and when she returned, she was crying.”

“Last evening? My tower?” Now Cullen was completely lost. She didn’t visit him yesterday, did she? All he remembered was going to bed, after another stressful day, which resulted in a terrible headache. “She didn’t visit me yesterday.”

Dorian crocked his head to the side. What was Cullen playing at? Whatever excuse the ex-templar tried, he wouldn’t get out of this that easily. “Yes, yes she was. All nicely dressed. Must be around nine.”

“I was already asleep at nine,” Cullen said. He sat down on a nearby chair, and rubbed his face with his hands. “Something is wrong.”

Dorian sat down opposite him, still not fully believing him, but he couldn’t deny that something was off.

“And she wasn’t with you?” Dorian probed.

“No!” Cullen said forcefully.

“Hmm,” Dorian stroke his chin. “Maybe something on the way there… but if something happened, why didn’t she tell Solas or me?”

For a moment they sat in silence, both lost in thoughts. Eventually Cullen got up. “Well, there’s only one way to find out. I go talk to her.”

Dorian nodded. “Tell her I’m there for her if she needs me.”

Cullen smiled. “I think she already knows that, but I’ll tell her anyway.” And with that he left.

“You surprise me, Dorian,” Solas voice came from below, as soon as Cullen had left the library.

Dorian lent on the cordon and looked down. “Oh? And why is that?”

“I expected at least one fireball.”

“Are you insane? Not in a library!” Dorian huffed and got back to the bookshelf, ignoring Solas’ faint snicker.

---

Well… that went horrible. Y/N sat on her bed, with her head in her hands. So much for handling it like an adult.

She knew had to get a grip. It may hurt, but she needed to get her feelings under control. After all, she was supposed to work together with him and couldn’t avoid him forever. Not to mention it was anything but fair to him. He didn’t do anything wrong.

After telling herself several times that she needed to stop moping, because that wouldn’t change anything, she got up and went to her desk. A pile of unread letters waited for her to be read and answered. Maybe this could distract her for a while.

Just when she was halfway through the first letter, she heard the door to her tower being opened and closed. She put the letter down and waiter for the visitor to announce themselves.

“Inquisitor?” Cullens voice carried up the stone walls.

He noticed. Shit. He noticed and is going to ask what’s wrong! What am I supposed to say? Shit, shit, shit!

“Up here,” she answered, and hoped he wouldn’t notice the slight waver in her voice.

Soon Cullen conquered the last steps. He knew he had to find out what happened yesterday, but he hadn’t thought about how to do that. Now that he was there, standing on top of the stairs, he silently cursed himself for not thinking of a plan before he marched into her private quarters.

“I- um, may I speak with you for a moment?” he asked and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yes, sure, of course,” she said and wondered if she demonstrate her nervousness any more obvious.

She gestured to the chair on the other side of her desk, and Cullen sat down, looking anywhere but at her.

Cullen cleared his throat. “I was wondering if I have done anything to offend you?”

Yes. No. Yes… but not really. I hate my life. She shook her head. “No, everything’s fine.”

“Then why… this morning, at the meeting, it seemed like you were avoiding me, and when I talked to Dorian, he told me you were upset yesterday, after, so he and Solas assume, visiting my tower,” he said, and finally looked at her. She was blushing an adorable shade of red.

The images of last night came flashing back. She standing in front of his tower, ready to knock, when she heard the moan. A moan she would have been delighted to hear under different circumstances. Her heart throbbed painfully and she swallowed a lump in her throat. “I- it- it was… nothing. Really. It was nothing to worry about.”

Cullen didn’t understand her. She was obviously upset, if not downright distressed. Something was bothering her, why wouldn’t she tell him. He thought they’d build a friendship over the last couple of month, and she would trust him enough to tell him if something wasn’t right. Maybe he had been wrong. He had hoped she would see him as more than just the commander of the Inquisition, but a friend whom she can tell everything as well. Ever since they arrived at Skyhold, he and Y/N would spend some time together, talking about anything and everything. They would even flirt occasionally, and Cullen had hoped that perhaps, she could feel something more for him. But it looks like he had been wrong.

It hurt, but he wouldn’t give up that easily. She may not feel the same for him, but if something was bothering her, he wanted to know and fix it. He would be there for her, as commander, as friend, as lover, whatever she choose him to be! “Inqui- Y/N,” he said softly, “I can see something is bothering you. Did something happened while you were on the way to my tower? Because I know, as opposed to what Dorian may thinks, that you weren’t in my tower. I sleep so lightly, I would have heard you knocking or entering. Please tell me what happened. I- we are worried about you, Y/N.”

Y/N looked at him with wide eyes. “Asleep? You were asleep?”

“Yes!?” it almost sounded like a question.

“Oh…” Suddenly she realised that he probably moaned in his dream, or even worse, his nightmare. And I ran away like some angsty teenager. Way to go, Y/N!

“What does it have to so with anything?” Cullen asked, still confused by her question.

A good question for which she had no answer, expect for the truth but that was not an option. For the second time this day, she put her head in her hands and groaned.

Cullen rounded the table and knelled beside her. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“I’m an idiot, that’s what’s wrong,” she muttered between her hands.

“I don’t understand…”

“I thought,” but she stopped herself. She couldn’t tell him the truth, it was too humiliating!

Cullen carefully took her hands and lowered them from her face. Her expression was a mixture of defeat and anger. Without realising it, he cupped her cheek. His thumb was softly stroking her cheekbone. When she looked at him with a questioning gaze, he froze. What was he thinking? He wanted to lower his hand, but her hand stopped him. It was his turn to look rather puzzled. She leaned into his palm, and both of them relaxed a little.

“What happened, Y/N,” he tried again, his voice barely above a whisper as if he was afraid that speaking too loud would ruin this moment.

“Like I said, I was an idiot,” she said with a sad smile.

“But what does it mean?”

She said nothing and only starred into his eyes. This beautiful shade of brown, in which she could easily get lost in. Her eyes flickered to his mouth. She had been wondering for some time what it would be like to kiss those lips. He was so close… it would be so easily to just kiss him. She looked back up. His looked so worried at her, it brought her out of her little fantasy, and she remembered that she owned him an explanation and maybe an apology.

“Cullen I-” But he pressed his lips to hers, before she could say any more.

For a second she was too shocked to do anything, but before she knew it, she was leaning into the kiss. His lips, so warm and soft against hers… But before she could truly savour the moment, his lips were already gone, along his his hand on her cheek.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me!” Cullen backed away from her and stood up.

“Cullen-” she said, a little breathless.

“I have no words for how sorry I am,” he continued to ramble.

She stood up and walked over to him, until she stood directly in front of him. “You don’t need to apologise.” This time it was her hand that cupped his cheek. “Just tell me, do you feel… could you imagine… I mean…” Why was this confession stuff so hard?!

“Yes,” he said, “I mean, that is, if you wanted to ask… I felt something for you for a while and…”

“Me, too!” she said. They were slowly closing the space between them. “I just never thought you…”

“Y/N? May I kiss you again?”

His husky voice send her shiver through her. “Maker, please!”

---

“Sooooo?” Dorian asked and plopped down next to her.

Y/N knew it was a mistake to have her breakfast in the hall, but eating alone in her chambers was always kind of depressing.

“So what?” she asked him, not looking up from her plate.

“A little birdie tole me-”

“Was that birdie’s name Sera? Or Varric?” she asked.

“-that our dear commander visited you again last evening, but no one saw him leaving it. Not until half an hour ago.” Though it was a statement, the question he wanted to ask was clear. She wouldn’t make it that easy for him, though.

“That’s right,” she said in a neutral voice.

When Dorian didn’t ask anything else, she looked up, and regretted it immediately. He was looking at her meaningfully.

She sighed. “Yes, we stuttered our way through…”

Dorian laughed. “Oh, it must have been adorable! I want all the details!”

“All the details of what?” Cullen’s voice came from behind them.

Y/N quickly got out of her chair. “Cullen! Now that you’re here we can finally start with the meeting.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the table.

“But I haven’t had any breakfast, yet,” he protested weakly.

Solas sat down where Y/N sat only moments ago, watching the couple. “Should we tell them that this door leads to her chambers and the war room?”

“Nah,” Dorian said, “let them have some fun.”

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dai #cullen #cullen rutherford #cullen x reader #cullen rutherford x reader #reader insert #da reader insert #dai reader insert #my fics #my da fics

161 notes · View notes

redqueen-hypothesis · 3 years

Text

private getaway ➳ victor li (mlqc)

➳ PAIRING: reader x victor li (mlqc)

➳ WORD COUNT: 3665

➳ GENRE: slightly suggestive, fluff

➳ SYNOPSIS: victor abducts you in the name of a holiday and is more nostalgic than you’d expect.

➳ REMARKS: tbh i feel like this was badly written, no smut but we all know victor li wouldn’t just let time alone together go by without doing the dirty. i hope the fluff is enough to make up for it, nonny!! i’m also sorry if you wanted a headcanon and i ended up writing a fic instead. i forgot i can’t write fluff akdjfsdk.

“Are we there yet?”

“No, but we’re almost there.”

That conversation has been repeated for hours now, ever since Victor whisked you away (more like abducted) you from the main entrance of your company building after a long working week and announced that the two of you would be going on a short holiday. Much to your shock, Anna had simply smiled politely at Victor as he bundled you into his car, wishing the two of you an enjoyable vacation and assuring you that your work would be taken care of. It was only later that you discovered that Anna had been roped into Victor’s schemes from the very beginning - the betrayal!

“You’ve said that for a while now.” You mumble, clutching onto Victor’s hand tightly as he leads you down a windy pier. You’re blindfolded with one of your silk scarves, Victor has been careful in ensuring that you haven’t been able to find out the slightest clue about where the two of you are headed. “Are you sure you’re not trying to kidnap me?”

A small snort. “How much money would I earn from doing that? Not enough to make the attempt worth it, I would say.” Victor’s voice is warm and deep, and when you strain your ears just a little, you can hear the sound of waves washing over a beach. Somewhere near the sea, perhaps?

“I’m priceless.” You answer indignantly, pulling at his hand and nearly stumbling when you trip over Victor’s feet. Wood creaks beneath your feet with each step. “I would be worth a lot of money.”

“But I’m the one who’d have to pay if you did get kidnapped.” Victor retorts, and you almost tell Victor he’s actually being romantic... almost. Before the words escape you, however, Victor is suddenly pulling the blindfold off your eyes. “We’re here now.”

When Victor had mentioned that he would be bringing you on a short holiday, you hadn’t expected this.

“Victor, this is... this is amazing!” You gasp, looking over at the view before you. The white sand of the beach runs into crystal clear water that stretches on as far as your eye can see. Connected directly to that strip of untouched beach is he open air villa that the two of you are currently standing in, watching the waves lap gently at the shore. “We’re going to be staying here?”

“No, we’re just passing through - of course we’re staying here, idiot.” Victor answers bluntly from where he’s inspecting the kitchen. It’s luxurious and fully stocked with fresh tropical ingredients, some of which are colorful fruits you’ve never seen before. You hope this means Victor is going to be the one cooking for you. “This place is a holiday beach resort.”

You can’t wait to change into some more comfortable clothes and go splashing in the sea. There’s a small jacuzzi pool carved from shining blue stone attached to the villa that you’re dying to try, but right now the blue of the ocean is much more enticing. It’s been so long since you’ve last seen the ocean for non work related reasons, you think. “This really is the perfect holiday location! And here I thought you didn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘vacation’.”

“My vocabulary is sufficient, thank you very much.” Victor sounds mildly amused as he steps up next to you, one hand shading his eyes from the orange light of the sunset. “I take that you like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” You laugh excitedly, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight. Victor lets himself smile at your enthusiasm, if only a little. “It’s a beautiful place, really! Why isn’t it more popular? I don’t see anyone around.”

He turns to look at you with an amused expression, as if the answer is the most obvious thing in the world. “This is a private resort, dummy. Of course there’s no one else here.”

“Private resort?” Just how much money had Victor spent on this so called small holiday? The sounds of dollar bills flying away echo repeatedly in the back of your mind and you almost feel dizzy just trying to imagine how much this must have cost. “Victor, call an ambulance.”

“There aren’t any roads here, dummy, we’re on an island that’s untouched except for this building and the staff quarters nearby. I thought you should have been able to see that.” Victor looks at you like you’re the silly one. “The resort uses private helicopters in case of emergencies. Why, are you feeling unwell?”

“I just might faint under the weight of all this extravagance.” You mumble, but wrap your arms around Victor’s torso and stand on tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. He shivers ever so slightly in your hold. “Thanks, Victor. I appreciate it.”

“You should.” Victor mutters, but there’s no real bite behind it. “Let’s go see the sunset down by the water. I heard it’s a good view.”

>>>

You’ve missed the feeling of having sand between your toes and splashing about in the shallow water near the shore. Swimming pools have nothing on mother nature, you decide, picking up a seashell and admiring its silvery shine.

“Don’t you think it looks like a small fish?” You ask, holding it up for Victor to inspect when he stops next to you, bare feet in the water. He peers at the shell in your hand, looking like a debtor trying to discern the validity of some assets.

“It looks like a shell.”

“You have no creativity. Some things don’t need to be expensive to be pretty.” You huff, pressing the seashell into his hand anyway. His fingers wrap around it, holding it tightly in his palm. He’s about to open his mouth to reply when you tug excitedly at his hand. “Victor, look! The sun is huge!”

Your eyes are wide with wonder as the setting sun touch the horizon. Liquid orange ripples across the water’s surface, setting the sea alight with flames and washing it in a warm glow, until you can’t tell where the sea meets the sky. The corners of his mouth pull up at your tangible happiness, he’d let you see a thousand sunsets more beautiful just to see you smile like this again. “The sun is always the same size, dummy.”

“Yeah, but it looks big now.” You retort, fishing out the camera that you’re wearing on a strap around your neck. “I need to take a picture and upload it on Moments. Gosh, Lucien would definitely love to see something like this.”

The expression Victor eyes you with almost makes you laugh. “The shady scientist?” If you didn’t know him better, you’d think he’s angry, but you know he’s just sulking. You giggle, a little amused at his obvious dislike for the other man, and decide to tease him just a little.

“Hey, don’t call my friend shady! He’s a very renowned neuroscientist and an important consultant for Miracle Finder.” You correct, taking a few snapshots of the sky before you. You’re no photographer, but you know enough from your experience in filming to take a good photo. “Ahh, the pictures look great. Victor, it’s your turn!”

“My turn? What for?” Victor looks mildly confused, but you tug him to the end of the walkway by the hand. There, the sunset glow washes over his face, the soft light diffusing the sharpness in his eyes, the usual cold set of his jaw. “There, just right! Now, smile!”

“Wha-”

Click!

“God, Victor, I said to smile, not look like I handed up a late report.” You laugh, peering at the bummed out expression that you’ve captured with your camera. Victor looks just a little flustered when you raise the camera to him again. “Come on, smile for real this time!”

“I don’t just smile for pictures.”

“But you look handsome when you do.” You tease, and see Victor’s face soften in response to your words. It’s not quite a smile, but it looks warm, almost happy. “Don’t say stupid things.”

Just before you can take the picture, however, there’s a loud flapping sound and you flinch back in surprise at the flurry of wings. When your eyes blink open, you’re greeted with a totally unexpected sight.

A seagull is perched on top of Victor’s head, squawking loudly. Meanwhile, Victor looks like he’s frozen himself in time with his own Evol, lips firmly pressed together in a thin line.

The seagull peers down at him. Victor looks up to meet its eyes. It squawks again and Victor winces.

“Wow, Victor, I didn’t know you brought me here just to introduce me to your mistress.” You can barely keep the giggles out of your voice. The glare that Victor shoots you is positively deadly. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not.” You say, but your voice shakes. “You know, I can see why it took such a liking to you. The two of you are very much alike.”

Victor looks bewildered. “What? How am I similar,” he gestures at the bird nesting on his head, “to this thing?”

You only pause for dramatic effect. “You’re both known for shitting on people.”

Victor groans in exasperation at your grin. “I do not shit on people.”

Unable to resist, you turn the camera to him, hands almost shaking uncontrollably with suppressed laughter. Victor’s expression goes flat when he realises what you’re intending to do. “Don’t you dare-”

Click!

“That’s it, get back here.” Victor brushes the seagull off his head and bears down on you, while you shriek with laughter and dash back down the beach as fast as you can. Try as you might, however, Victor’s strides are far wider than yours and in no time at all he’s caught up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and lifting you clean off your feet.

“Delete that.” He demands, trying to reach for your camera, but you hold it over your head with both hands, still giggling breathlessly. “No! Do you know how much the paparazzi would pay for a picture like this? I can imagine it on the front pages of the newspapers already, ‘Victor Li finds true soulmate at last’!”

“If they’re smart, they wouldn’t. The LFG has shares in majority of the news outlets in Loveland.” Victor retorts as you wave the camera about. “And so should you, since your company is funded by the LFG as well.”

“You’re too fair to drop us over something like this.” You laugh breathlessly at Victor, who simply sighs. “Don’t think that praising me now is going to get you a bonus. Hand over the camera now, before I make you.”

You arch an eyebrow, still giddy with adrenaline and excitement. You haven’t laughed this much in a long time. “Oh yeah? How are you going to do that?”

“How am I going to do that?” Victor repeats after you, voice suddenly dropping to a husky whisper. You swallow at the near predatory look that flashes in his eyes, hesitating for a moment. “Uhh, I mean you could just ask nicely, and if I were feeling generous, I might give it to-”

Before you can so much as finish your sentence, he’s pulling your head down to meet his lips in a hungry kiss. Your eyes fly wide open with shock before you melt against his mouth, camera long forgotten. His teeth tug at your bottom lip, urging his tongue into your mouth and fingers stroking at the bare skin along your ribs. Gasping at the searing heat of him, you try to break away for air, but Victor’s fingers only slide up the back of your head to press you more firmly against him, unrelenting.

All consuming.

It’s only when you beat against his chest with your fist that he releases you, your lungs heaving for air and mouth drunk on the taste of him. “Just like that,” Victor murmurs, his voice a raspy baritone as he plucks your camera out of your boneless hands. You can’t even find it in you to argue, all the fight sapped out of you. “I’ve missed doing that.”

“What are you-” You gasp as Victor lowers the two of you to the ground. Your back is pressed against the sand of the beach, waves lapping at your feet, but before you can say another word Victor’s mouth is back on yours again, hot and wet and desperate, like he can’t wait another second to taste you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, drawing him as close as you physically can, the hard planes of his body pressed against yours through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Mmn...” You breathe against his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist, grinding subtly against the hardness in his shorts. Victor lets out a low sound at that, eyes filled with an emotion that you can only describe as hunger as he hovers over you. Just as he tilts his head down to press kisses down your neck, however, you’re interrupted by a strange grumbling sound.

The two of you still at the sudden noise, and your cheeks burst into flames.

“Pft...” You look up to see Victor trying to stifle his own laughter and scowl, slapping both your hands over his mouth. “Hey! Stop laughing!”

“Let’s head in for some food. I have some new recipes I want to try.” Victor is still wearing a smile and damn, because you won’t even get enough of that expression on him. It softens his face, brings out a gentle light to his eyes that is far too rarely seen, and makes your heart stumble in your chest. Still blushing, you grab his hand and pull him towards the villa so he won’t see the colour on your cheeks.

“Hurry up then, I’m hungry.”

He laughs, a clear, boyish sound that doesn’t suit his business persona at all. “I could tell.”

“Oh, shut it!”

>>>

Dinner is a lavish affair of delectable fruits and local spices that you’ve never tasted before. Victor does something along the lines of a hibachi restaurant, cooking right in front of you and serving the food fresh from the pan. It’s clear he’s been practicing in secret, there’s no hesitation to his movements even with all these foreign ingredients. Your heart warms at the knowledge but keep your mouth shut about it, knowing Victor would be embarrassed if you were to call him out on it.

Gods, you love this man so much.

As the sky falls dark, you sit at the kitchen island in the dim candlelight, washing down your dinner with a tropical fruit juice mix that Victor had blended for you while scrolling through a list of activities available to you here on your phone.

“You decide.” Victor had shrugged simply when you’d asked him about your itinerary. You couldn’t be more excited.

“We could go snorkeling tomorrow, oh, or fishing!” You tell Victor brightly as he washes the dishes at the sink. Hopefully in one of these options, he’ll just have to go shirtless, you hum to yourself contentedly. Best vacation ever. He turns around to raise an eyebrow at you, looking dubious. “I doubt you have enough patience to hold a fishing rod for a few hours.”

“I do too.” You pout, setting down your phone to watch him work. The simple white button down he’s wearing only accentuates the strong lines of his back and the broad shoulders he has. “And besides, it won’t take that long for the fish to bite unless you scare them all away with that glare of yours.”

“Maybe if we throw you in as bait we’d be more successful and catch a big white shark.” Victor flicks you on the nose and you whine, rubbing it ruefully as he keeps the pans on the shelves. “Fine... I’ll think about what to do when tomorrow comes. What do you want to do right now, though?”

Victor ponders this for a moment, leaning against the kitchen island next to you. “Hmm... you brought your bathing suit, am I right?”

“I didn’t know we were going to the beach, wait... this is why you were asking for my measurements awhile back, weren’t you?”

He shrugs, although there’s a playful glint in his eye. “You don’t have any evidence. Either way, there should be a bathing suit in your luggage. Put it on and we can go down to the jacuzzi. Or if you want,” the look in his eyes darken ever so slightly as he looks down at you, tracing your body, “you could always go naked. There’s no one to see... but me.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” You beat a hasty escape for the bathroom before your face can spontaneously combust. “You better not have bought something weird for me!”

As you disappear into the bathroom, Victor lets out a low laugh, running a hand over his face. “Ahh... that silly girl.”

There’s a fond smile on his face.

>>>

You sink into the water with a contented moan. “Ahhh, this feels good.” When you look above, head tilting back to look at the night sky above. The stars twinkle back at you, like handfuls of diamonds scattered across the heavens above. “This has been a great start to my holiday.”

“It takes very little to make you happy.” Victor observes as he steps into the water next to you. He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of black shorts, strong arms and well honed physique exposed for you to appreciate. You grin, lacing your fingers with his and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “I think I’ve already been given plenty. Thank you for this holiday, Victor.”

“It was nothing, really.” Victor replies, his voice a low rumble in his chest next to you. When you glance up at him, he’s looking at the stars overhead, seemingly lost in thought. “I don’t really enjoy holidays much, except when I visit France, but today with you... wasn’t so bad.”

Victor must be in a nostalgic mood, you think, enjoying the warmth of his body next to yours. The holiday brings that out in him, the fact that there are no paparazzi around and there is no LFG to worry about. You like having him all to yourself.

“Just admit that you like my company.” You laugh, resting your head against his shoulder. The water is pleasantly warm and scented with rose petals, something that you’ve come to realise is his signature touch during your time together. As unromantic as Victor’s mouth is when it isn’t on your body, the rest of him is surprisingly adept and careful when it comes to setting a romantic mood, sparing no expense when it comes to bouquets, scented candles, silk sheets. It’s something that you would never have quite expected from him, and yet it’s part of what makes him so lovably humane.

“Well, I think the fact that I married you says quite enough about that.” Victor snorts. You feel him run a thumb over the wedding band on your ring finger and you grin, lifting it out of the water so that he can see it. “I’m so glad I didn’t swallow it together with your proposal souffle. I might have backed out of marrying you if I had more time to think about it.”

“You must have been in shock when you agreed.” He looks at your joined hands, and suddenly lifts it to his mouth to kiss away the water droplets clinging onto the back of yours possessively. The two of you are already married, and yet it still sends heat burning at your cheeks. “You’re stuck with me now, though. You can’t just break a marriage contract.”

“You mean a wedding vow. You were so handsome on that day I must have forgotten my plan about running away from the altar.” You giggle, and Victor’s eyes soften, scooping up a flower from the water’s surface - a peony, and tucks it behind your ear. “I would have chased after you even if you did.” His eyes sweep over you, painfully tender. “There. Beautiful.”

It’s only then that you realise how close the two of you are, his breath dancing along your cheeks and nose, his cheeks flushed from the warmth of the jacuzzi. He looks so open in that moment, his usual stoic walls down for you to enter and so you do, cupping his face and pulling him in for a kiss.

Victor’s a possessive lover, always has been, and the way he takes your lips for his own is no different. He doesn’t just claim them, he ruins them, tasting your mouth like you’re one of his sweetest deserts, tongue probing every corner and crevice of your mouth so that you know that you belong to him. You sink into his embrace, water swishing around you, and Victor groans, lightly nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“I’m the most fortunate man in the world to have met you.” He says, hoisting you into his lap. In the pool, it takes almost no effort at all, and you’re left straddling his rock hard thighs, bracing your palms on his firm chest. His gaze lands on your bruised, swollen lips, running the pad of his thumb over it gently. “Beautiful.”

“Stop saying cheesy stuff and make love to me.” You laugh, grinding down teasingly on the hardness you can feel against your thigh and your grin widens when Victor lets out a hiss. He pinches your ass in retaliation and you squeal. “Here I was trying to set the mood and you went and ruined it. You had better be prepared for what you’re getting into.”

When he kisses you under the heavens once more, so fiercely it steals your breath away, one last thought crosses your mind before he takes even that away from you: that everything to do with him, you regret none of it at all.

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc victor #victor li #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice

78 notes · View notes