Who Has A Voice Like Smarty Does? { Millard Nullings x Reader}

411 8 4
                                    

i never write for mill what is wrong with me he's literally so squishy ( aka my new fave term of endearment)

set in the late 1960s/early 1970s (after abe left and victor got offed by well before jake shows up lol)//


Dance me all around the room,
Dance me around the room,
Keep out the stars, turn out the lights


" You know, I was quite the troublemaker myself, when I was your age."

Y/N blinked themself out of a daze, almost startled by the disembodied voice coming from their doorway. They caught the ball they had been tossing up and down like a stringless yo-yo, having been entranced by the sound of it banging against the ceiling— Miss Peregrine's office was above their room, and after that lecture she had dished out, they had every intention of being as annoying as possible— and the feeling of it landing in their open palm.

They frowned and shrugged, sinking back onto their other hand. " You're a month older than me."

" I mean physically.." Millard continued, clearly unfazed by their disinterest. " You joined us at 17, yes? Just after your birthday, Enoch says, because apparently you've grown rather buddy-buddy with him—"

" Who I'm 'buddy-buddy' with or not should not earn that level of judgement."

" Interrupt me again and I'll poison your tea."

Y/N soured, but kept their mouth shut.

" My point is," Millard clapped his hands together, crossing the room in wide strides, only visible thanks to his pinstriped suit. " When I first moved here, I got on Miss Peregrine's nerves left and right. If I'm to be honest, it was one of my favorite activities."

Y/N made a noise from the back of their throat, something between a laugh and a cough. Millard stopped his pacing, and if he had eyes they could see, they were willing to bet he was staring right into their soul.

When he didn't start talking again immediately, they waved halfheartedly. " I know, poison tea. I'll live. Please, do continue, I was captivated."

" Sarcasm kills, Y/N."

" Uh-huh."

Millard sat at the edge of their bed, patiently waiting for Y/N to move their legs to make more space for him. They didn't move at all. He sighed, then in a tentative voice, asked, " What did you do to get the Bird all up in arms like that, anyways? I haven't seen her that pissed since that one time Enoch released a bunch of dead rabbits in Horace's room and they ate half his jackets."

" I liked those rabbits. Ate all of Horace's ugly clothes. Now he only has the nice ones."

Millard gasped. " That was your idea, wasn't it?"

" Enoch's not smart enough to think of something like that." Y/N muttered, picking at their peeling nail polish. " Did him a favor, honestly."

" Doesn't matter now," his sleeves waved around like they were batting flies, before landing rather harshly on Y/N's calves. " Tell me what you did."

Y/N sighed and sat up properly, unfolding their arm from beneath their head and setting their ball on their nightstand. It rolled off and right under their bed, joining countless others they had been too lazy to claw out. " You've got to promise not to tell anyone else first."

" Is it really that bad?"

" Promise, Millard."

" You've got my word. Nothing you say will leave this room."

Y/N leaned forward, dropping their voice to a low whisper. " Told her the truth. That Victor got himself killed 'cause of Abe. Everything that's happened to us since he up and left can be traced back to that prissy bastard, and everyone knows it. Told her, if she hadn't let Abe live with us in the first place, Victor would still be alive and Emma wouldn't be a total emotional wreck. I can only listen to her bitch about some white boy so many times before I start to loose it, you know? Told the Bird, either she stops pretending everything is fine and dandy and she starts doing something about this smoggy depression we've all found ourselves stuck in, or I will, and she didn't like the idea of me doing her job for her. So she yelled at me, and I yelled back, and things got all crazy wild before I got sick of it."

Millard sat in silence for a moment, tapping on Y/N's calf. "... You really said that to Miss Peregrine?"

" She's not my mom. She's not anyone's mother. Just because she's got some control over time, doesn't mean she gets to be some overbearing God to us." they mumbled, " If she wants to be a parent so badly, she's got to act like it, even when it sucks."

" She tries her best, you know. Victor's death was hard on her."

" It was hard on Bronwyn, too, but Wynnie isn't moping around the house in all black, now is she?"

" Bronwyn doesn't own black."

" Maybe I should get Enoch to revive those bunnies again, and Miss Peregrine won't own any black anymore either."

Millard heaved a sigh, stood, then sat right back down again. It was almost like he wanted to leave, but couldn't let himself.

" You should apologize to her." he eventually concluded, and Y/N scoffed.

With a sharp jab to his side, they said, " You don't make history by being liked, Millard."

" What you're pulling isn't history. It's cruelty."

" Whatever it is, it's deserved."

Millard stood, purposely this time, and stormed right over to the door. He froze in the doorway, turning just enough that Y/N could tell he was looking over his shoulder. " We need her, you know. We'd all be long dead if it wasn't for Miss Peregrine. She might not be perfect, but neither are any of us."

" What did you do, when you were my age?" Y/N asked, ignoring his words completely.

They could have sworn his shadow had smiled.

" Exactly the same, my dear Y/N.

I did exactly the same."

He wasn't gone long before Y/N reached under their bed, retrieved that stubborn ball again, and lost themself in that familiar and hypnotizing motion. They heard a clatter outside, then Enoch's voice, loud and taunting.

" Millard's got a crush! Emma, c'mere—"

" Shut up, Enoch!" was Emma's shouted response down the stairs.

There was the telltale sound of Millard's shoe hitting the wall, clearing thrown at Enoch, followed by more laughter and the sound of footsteps running away.

Y/N smiled. Fools, the lot of them.


This little world is yours tonight,
Dance me all around the room,
Say you'll never leave me.

Once, there was an island.... // MPHFPC one shots, imagines, and misc !Where stories live. Discover now