#< tags from a couple days ago again this has been sitting in my drafts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ofoceansandtombsanew · 7 months

Text

the summer moon was born from the waves to be loved (gojo x reader)

or, you got pregnant and the ghost of university days past finds out five years later.

tags: afab!reader (she/her), mentions of pregnancy, sometimes self-care is writing a fic with a messy premise, unbeta’d i’ll go back and fix things i just want this out of my drafts

AO3 || pt 2

o. ghost

This felt like something out of a bad movie.

One of those “yeah, that’s me. The one looking like she just shit herself because the ghost of Christmas past just showed up” kinds of movies. The ghost of Christmas past whom you haven’t seen in the last five years.

The ghost of Christmas past that your daughter looks at curiously, wondering who put you in such a stupor as she asks sweetly, “who’s he, Mommy?”

The ghost of Christmas past whose face is unreadable as he looks at Itsuki before he settles his gaze on you. “Yeah, [First],” the ghost asks. “Who am I?”

Where did I go wrong?

A rhetorical question.

A lot in life has to go wrong for a man you thought you left in your memories to show up at your doorstep but you can pinpoint the exact moment in time in which you screwed up. It’s all because you sat next to Ieiri Shoko in your mandatory calculus class. If it weren’t for that, none of this would be happening.

No, that isn’t it. Your gaze turns to Itsuki, who looks back at you with familiar light blue eyes and white hair. She may have gotten the Gojou Satoru eye and hair colors, but her hair texture and skin tone both pointed to you. If I sat anywhere else she wouldn’t be here. And even if you knew that sitting next to Shoko meant meeting the world’s most aggravating man you could have fallen for, you feel like you would have taken that path once again.

No, sitting next to Shoko wasn’t where you messed up all those years agoー it was telling her you were pregnant in the first place.

i. spring tide

When you met Gojou Satoru, you considered it a godsend.

Not because his eyes were a rare shade of blue that most would kill to have. Not because he was drop dead gorgeous and the last person you were expecting to see when your classmate Shoko invited you to eat lunch with her and a couple friends.

The reason was a lot more simple thatー he was the first person you’d met in years that had watched and liked Digimon more than Pokemon. I am so glad I sat next to that Shoko girl, you thought in gleeful disbelief as he told you his personal favorites before flipping the question onto you. “I’m basic,” you told him with a laugh. “I’ve been riding the wave of Gatomon love since I was 7.”

Getou Suguru, Satoru’s childhood best friend from what you’d gathered, groaned, “please don’t make him continue with your excitement.”

“Ignore him,” Satoru pushed Suguru’s face away with all the nonchalance in the world. “He thinks Digimon is stupid.”

“It’s a Pokemon bootleg!” Suguru shot back with a sly smile.

In unison, you and Satoru gasped in disbelief and offense. “Boy bye! You can talk all the shit you want about Digimon, I can rest every night at ease knowing if my house were on fire Agumon would be able to say ‘[First], your house is on fire’,” you sneered in jest at the man, Satoru clapping in agreement all the while at your defense. “You don’t get that kind of insurance with Pikachu! ‘Pika pika’ could mean so many things!”

“Where have you been all my life?” Satoru snickered, holding his hand out for a high five you reciprocated with complete enthusiasm.

“Watching Digimon by myself,” you laughed, whipping out your phone. You needed this man’s number stat. “The next time I have a Digimon rewatch, I’m inviting you over. Like, you don’t have the option to refuse, you’ve doomed yourself.”

Satoru’s eyes were gleaming from his lowered shades, “funny, I was about to say the exact same thing to you,” he glanced over at Suguru with a teasing look. “Friendship ended with Suguru, [First] is my new best friend,” the white-haired student declared as he typed his number into your phone.

He labeled himself Digidestined Satoru, sending a text to himself: This is coming from the phone of Digidestined [First]. Your cheeks hurt from how widely you were grinning as you looked at the message. “That better be what you put me in your phone.”

“Definitely, new best friend,” Satoru promised, whipping his own phone around to show your new contact in it. Digidestined [First] it was.

Despite the apparent disownership, Suguru looked amused and unbothered, “okay but see if your ex-best friend takes notes for you if you ever take off from class.” Suddenly your new brother-in-Digimon was singing a different tune, waxing poetic about how Digimon and Pokemon were brothers from different mothers. You rolled your eyes but you’re unmistakably giddy as you watched him talk with his hands.

“There doesn’t need to bad blood between the two,” Satoru ended with a grand bow. “As such, I declare that I can have more than one best friend.”

“How did we even get on the topic of Digimon,” Shoko asked with an amused look on her face, cracking open another beer. “That was so random.”

You grabbed your own beer with a light giggle, you felt rather light compared to how you started this day. “His sunglasses had a Metal Greymon-like pattern and I had to say something about it,” you say after a few sips. “Glad I did because now I have a new brother-in-Digimon.”

Blue eyes held your gaze for a moment and you clacked your cans together in celebration.

That was how your friendship started. Clothed in beer and Digimon. It took about a week before he swept over to your place, seeking out the promise to watch Digimon together. If you can really call what you did watching, you spent more than half of the time talking over the episodes about miscellaneous topics than actually watching Tai and the gang try to get back to the physical world.

He’d known Suguru since he was 5.

(“We got into a fight on the playground. I wanted the swing and he wouldn’t get off. So I kicked him and he threw sand at my face, we’ve been buddies ever since.”

“I have a lot of questions about how y’all went from trying to kill each other to being best friends.”

“Look, don’t question our methods.”)

He was a December Sagittarius, born December 7th.

(”Yeah, I can tell!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”)

He apparently started eating sweets to stimulate his brain but ended up with a sweet tooth.

(“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, did you get that shit from Death Note?!”

“.... no.”

“Oh my god, you did!”

“You literally got a tattoo of a butterfly because of a crush you had on Jolyne from Part 6, shut up!”

“Satoru, don’t play these games with me.”)

He sounded eerily similar to Bruno Bucciarati from part 5 of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure.

(”Arrivederci!”

“Oh my god that’s insane! You do! Say something else!”

“STICKY FINGERS!!!”

“PFFT-”

“See? I could totally get away with saying I voiced him and no one would bat an eyelash.”

“Who else do you sound like?”

“I’ve been told I make a great impression of Kuroo from Haikyuu!!”

He did, by the way.)

And he was currently enrolled as a business major.

(“My old man wouldn’t get off my back about it. You?”

“Marine biology.”

“We have that program here?”)

He had a natural charisma that just drew people in, yourself included. That’s why you think it was so easy being with him, he made it feel like you’d been friends all your life even if reality said otherwise. He made everyone feel like that, that’s why he’d always be surrounded by people.

Still, he’d find a way to make you feel special when his eyes would light up in recognition when he saw you wave across the room at parties.

How he’d jig across the room with those lanky limbs of his to grab you in a hug. “[First], you finally made it! Thanks for coming out of the bat cave you call a room to grace us with your presence!”

It made you feel special that you were friends with the person adored by everyone else. That’s why you could playfully push him off of you and say, “you mean the bat cave you crawl to when you lock yourself out of your room and Suguru isn’t in either?”

“I’m hurt, why are you being mean to me?” Satoru pouted batting his white eyelashes like a distressed damsel. “Don’t you know who you’re being mean to when you’re being an ass? This, this is who you’re being mean to,” he gestured to himself.

"Last week you ate my fries after I specifically said not to touch them because I counted how many I had left, I know exactly who I’m being mean to.”

“How was I supposed to know you’d count them again whenever you decided to eat them?” Your irritation from last week had long since passed though, that was why you could laugh it off with a shake of your head. Satoru was Satoru, it was what you liked most about him even if he could be a pain in the ass.

Suguru’s brown eyes twinkled as you joined the small fray of him, Shoko and Utahime in a corner of the room, “I’m just glad I’m not the only one dealing with him anymore.” Satoru suck his tongue out with a ‘rude’.

“Someone has to do the dirty work,” Shoko replied as she raised a cigarette to her lips. “it might as well be us.”

Utahime smacked the tobacco stick out of her girlfriend’s hands as she said, “I’d rather not be included in the list of people of doing the dirty work.”

“Et tu, [First], et tu?” Satoru asked when you made no effort to come to his defense.

You raised your hands in mock defense, “I have to be a little mean to you sometimes, Satoru,” you told him with a snicker. “It keeps you from getting too big an ego.”

Whether or not that was working was debatable.

The night went on smoothly until your favorite brand of beer had been noticeably picked off from the coolers.

That’s my cue to leave.

“Sorry gang, but my lips don’t touch anything but Don Equis and Asahi,” you said with an air of regality not suited for a party of college students. “Maybe Corona if there’s nothing else. I’m not drinking... whatever this is. So I’m gonna head out, there’s a 24 hour liquor store around here somewhere.”

A chorus of farewells came from your friends minus one. “You coming back?” Satoru looked over at you in earnest.

But you shook your head, “nah, I think I’m done for the night,” you told him truthfully. Your social battery was gone for the rest of the evening and home was the only place you wanted to be. “I’ll catch you guys later though,” you stood up with a stretch.

Satoru stood up with you, “I’ll walk you back to your place then.”

Which was how you ended up sipping beers at the park, laying on soft grass. It wasn’t truly quiet, not with the passing of cars and the occasional passersby but it was quiet enough compared to the welcomed ruckus of the party. “Satoru,” Satoru hummed wordlessly in acknowledgement. “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”

“Dunno,” Satoru shrugged back pressed against the earth snuggly. “I never really got to think about it.”

He was an only child and as such the only one his parents’ turned their gaze to with pressure of taking over the family business. He confided in you ages ago how he hated it when you started seeing more sides of Satoru than the mischief-loving comedian he presented himself as.

You scooted closer to him to lean over his head, “well I think whatever you end up doing, even if it ends up really pissing off your dad, you’ll be great at it. You’re Satoru, that’s how I know you’ll be fine,” your voice held the tone of a promise. I promise you’ll be fine and you’ll be happy.

Thanks, [First]. You liked to think that was what that look on Satoru’s face meant. “I think you’ll make a great part-time aquarist, full-time whale researcher,” Satoru replied instead.

“You’re damn right I will,” you smiled warmly at him, moving a stray strand of his hair off his forehead. “Be careful I don’t disappear for months, spirited away by the sea folk on my Children of the Sea shit.” You took his sunglasses off, you had no clue how he was able to wear them 24/7. Even stranger was how he was still able to walk so easily at night despite having them on. Apparently the Gojou eye genes were built different; the colors of his eyes certainly were. “I’ll come back to shore occasionally, mysterious as the sea itself.” The sea you got to see every time you looked at his eyes, even if now they were barely visible even with the street lights.

Satoru looked back at you with a small smirk, “even if you got spirited away, I’d just go and bring you right back. Suguru’ll kill me if I try and make him watch Digimon Tamers with me again. You said it first, remember?” His voice was low as he recalled your exact words from your first meeting. “You’ve doomed yourself. There’s no ditching me now, not even at sea.”

“I did say something like that, didn’t I,” you smiled wryly.

He didn’t say anything back, but you could guess that he was likely thinking something along the lines ‘yep, that you did. No take backsies.’ A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, his eyes staring up at yours. It’s then you swore you saw him glance at your lips from where he laid and just when you considered the idea of kissing himー the sprinklers turned on.

Even worse, in your surprise his head clashed into yours as he tried getting up with a start.

Then there was a dash of bullshit on the side when your beers spilled over into the grass.

Great, you thought as Satoru tossed your emptied cans into a nearby trash can after you got out of the line of fire. You shook your arms, droplets of water flying off your soaked sleeves.

You should have taken that as a major sign from the universe that you would be making a mistake of gargantuan proportions if you kissed that man.

Instead, the two of you looked at each other and laughed. “God I hate this park, why do we even come here? Nothing good ever happens when we do,” Satoru said with a shake of his damp hair.

“This is the first time we’ve ever even come here,” you snickered.

“And see what a great start we’re already having with it?”

“Come on,” you tugged him by the wrist. “Let’s just change at my place, you have some clothes somewhere over there.”

A smarter person would have left it at that once you got home and showered, placing your clothes in the wash. It could have been a pleasant end to the evening, the two of you crashing on the couch while watching some dumb movie you never heard of on Netflix.

But the same atmosphere from the park came back with you when he came out of the bathroom at the same time you planned to knock on it to ask if he wanted something warm to drink. “Oh, sorry-” you say when your fist lightly landed on his chest instead of the door. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted tea or something. I bought your favorite brand of honey.”

“Sure, I’d like that,” he answered but you made no move to go to the kitchen and he made no move to ask when you would.

Who kissed who first, you weren’t sure. It didn’t really hit you that you were kissing until Satoru tore his lips from yours with a pant, “hey how drunk are you because I really just wanna make sure-”

“I’m not,” you pulled his lips back onto yours and Satoru hadn’t wasted time in hoisting you up by the legs.

ii. neap tide

When does one stop sleeping with their friend? You suppose it is probably when you realize you have feelings for them.

You didn’t do that.

If it had been anyone else doing this to themselves, you would have told them to cut the cord while the feelings were still manageable.

Or maybe you at least tell the other party how they felt.

You didn’t do that either.

Maybe that was why it was all catching up to you one day when you woke up feeling like crap. The physical manifestation of your stress coming back to bite you in the ass. Right before the trip you were planning on taking with your friends, you started feeling like crap only exacerbated when Satoru was in your presence.

But you still went despite your physically manifested stress because you’re a pushover. Or more specifically, if it involved Satoru, you folded faster than Sunday morning laundry. You had to when he looked at you in concerned disbelief you were trying to drop out of your plans last minute.

“Satoru, it isn’t the end of the world if I stay home. It’s just a week long break.”

“A week long break from your friends? From me? Your best friend?”

You struggled not to laugh, “last week you said I was kicked from that position because I watched one episode of Love is Blind without you.”

Satoru scowled at the memory, “because that’s our show, we started that together, there’s no watching ahead,” he reprimanded you. “And clearly I’ve forgiven you since you’re back in that position because I can’t believe you’re trying to leave me to survive with a couple and Suguru for a week!”

You puckered your lips and shrugged, “if it’s any consolation, Suguru is your boyfriend like 95% of the time.”

“Well right now Suguru is that asshole Kenjaku’s boyfriend and Kenjaku is supposed to be coming and I do not want to fourth wheel that by myself.”

You flicked his nose softly, “so you want me to third party fourth wheel with you so you don’t have to be alone with two couples?”

Satoru grinned and you stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. “Third party fourth wheel with benefits, yes.”

You stared at him for one, two, three seconds before you relented. “Look, I’m only going because I want the sex, not because I’m happily agreeing to fourth wheel with you.”

Satoru whooped regardless in his victory, “works for me!” He chortled as he went back to scrolling on his phone.

Silence fell over you as fiddled with your pointer finger and thumb.

“Hey,” Satoru spared a glance from whatever he was staring at on twitter. “What are we supposed to be?” Blue eyes grew to the size of saucers and you continued, “Classic no strings attached? Or is this supposed to be going somewhere?”

That made him set down his phone, “why,” he licked his lips before grinning, but it looked forced even to your eyes. “Why are you asking me that so randomly?”

You deserved an Oscar for how smoothly you delivered what came from your mouth. “Well what if the receptionist there is hot? I don’t need to make things between us awkward because it turned out we aren’t on the same page,” you thumbed behind you in the direction of the hotel. “‘What the hell, [First]’,” you deepened your voice, puckering your bottom lip as you whined. “‘I thought we had something special and you fucked the receptionist? What if they end up fucking with our reservation now?!’”

“First of all, that is not what I sound like,” Satoru stuck his tongue out at you but his shoulders were relaxed and subtle he tried to be, you could feel the relief rolling off of him in waves. “Second, fucking the receptionist does sound like a terrible idea because what if they do fuck our reservation because things go south? Just find someone at a club like the rest of us. But fucking someone else is a non-issue, get all the ass you want.”

“Well glad to know I have the Gojou Satoru thumb of approval,” you smiled and Satoru grinned in return, giving you a nudge with his elbow and you nudged him back. Underneath the calm, you were a storm of turbulent emotions. You weren’t surprised, your feelings had been confirmed. This wasn’t a Disney movie. You weren’t Tiana and he wasn’t Naveenー you weren’t going to turn this commitment-phobe into something he wasn’t. Yet the pain of the confirmation echoed in your chest. “Well, not when it comes to the receptionist.”

“Because no one fucks someone with the power of their reservation at their fingertips, that’s like,” Satoru searched his mind for the perfect example. “Handing over the poison to a chef and that chef was the person you were planning on poisoning.” So is continuing to sleep with someone who didn’t want the same things as you.

You couldn’t help laughing at your idiocy, relieved that Satoru took it as a humorous dig at his less than perfect metaphor. “I’m still fucking the receptionist if they’re hot.”

“I hope they’re married and old, how about that?”

“I’ve always liked them with a little salt and pepper. I fucked your prematurely whitening headass, didn’t I?”

“First of all, this is all natural-”

You’ve doomed yourself.

iii. red tide

Denial.

Anger.

Bargaining.

Depression.

Acceptance.

Those are the five stages of grief. It was certainly the steps that you experienced when the fact your period was late hit you while you were floating when Utahime gasped about the sea turning red.

Red tide, it was the first you’d ever seen it. But that excitement or concern about the possibility of what that meant completely subsided as you stared at the reddening shoreline when you realized a noticeable absence of red that week.

There was no way you were late for any particular reason. This was one of those flukes, your period always had a tendency to be finicky. It would be early or late at its convenience, never mind you being the one suffering. That’s why it was absolutely ludicrous that you left the beach to buy a pregnancy test.

And if you were the word you refused to think, it was your own damn fault for playing with karma the one time you decide to trust Satoru’s pullout game. Both of you were stupid, very very turned on and stupid and you should have just waited to get a condom.

But in the chance you weren’t pregnant, you swore you were going to remain celibate the rest of your university experience. You’d focus on other things, like journaling consistently like you said you would when you were writing your New Year’s revolutions.

Bargaining means nothing to biology, however, that was what you took as the universe’s answers when you were forced to look at the positive result staring back at you.

A lot of thoughts would run through a person’s head at an unplanned pregnancy resulting from a very ill-advised friends with benefits relationship.

Were you still in depression? Or had you reached acceptance yet? You weren’t entirely sure as you stared out the sparkling sea. Your sight blurring the stars above and the stars below did little reassure you as the possibilities ran through your mind.

What would you tell Satoru?

How would he react?

Would he think this was why you asked him about where your relationship was supposed to be heading?

Would assume the worst of you and accuse you of trying to trap him into a relationship when it was clearly supposed to be no strings attached from the beginning?

You didn’t know which unknown would hurt you more.

I should really decide on whether or not I’ll keep it to begin with before I start with all the scenarios, you inhaled deeply with shudder but you didn’t bother to wipe your tears. The blurriness was your own punishment. If I don’t, I never have to tell him anything. We can just cut this off and he’ll be none the wiser.

It was the most optimal scenario when you were still in college. You were barely handling the fees you currently had to pay for school, a child definitely wouldn’t help with that.

Was it too late to find something unhealthy to use as a coping mechanism?

“Yo,” you could have laughed bitterly. Of course, this is when Satoru shows up now. Right after you’ve isolated yourself away from everyone else on the more populated part of the beach. He was grinning, you could hear it in his voice. “[Fir]- hey are you alright?”

Great.

“Yeah, it’s just, you ever see something so beautiful you want to cry? It’s one of those things,” when he looked unsure, you grinned widely and wiped your tears. You didn’t need him to suspect a damn thing. “Seriously, dude, this was the reason I wanted to go into marine biology as a kid. I saw a picture of it once and decided, I wanna see that too. It’s just a surreal moment for me.”

At your reassurance, Satoru sighed, “geez, don’t freak me out like that.” You snorted as he settled next to you and you couldn’t think of anything humorous to say.

“Pretty cool, right?” The blue of the bioluminescence was reminiscent of his eyes, the thought crossed your mind now that he was in front of you.

Satoru whistled, impressed, “yeah but what is it?” He slapped a foot down on the ground, whistling again at the additional sparkling at the stimulus. “You’re the marine biologist, explain the science to me.”

“Sea sparkle,” you told him with a snort, heart drumming all the while. “I never thought I’d see something like this in my life. Red tides are signs of algal blooms are going to happen. They can be harmful but sometimes, completely harmless. This is the completely harmless kind,” a sparkling wave rolled across your feet as if to prove your point. “Well, technically harmless, there’s some conflicting evidence on whether or not it’s okay to swim in. We shouldn’t touch or swim in it to be safe. It’s just been a childhood dream of mine to do this, so don’t tell my friends in the not-dumb-scientist community. And wash your skin really really well tonight before going to bed.”

A grin blossomed on his face in his usual expression of mischief, “I ain’t no snitch.”

“Good because if you do I’m telling Shoko it was you that ate her leftovers,” you stuck your tongue out petulantly and Satoru kicked a splash at your thigh.

“Anyways,” Satoru drawled, observing the glow of his footsteps in the sand. “How long will it last?”

“It depends, sometimes a week. Sometimes a month,” definitely longer than the two of you and the situationship you’ve maintained thus far. “Once the food source runs out, they’re out. But hopefully they’ll be here the rest of our vacation, it’s pretty cool, right?”

“Yep, pretty damn cool,” he repeated like you hadn’t already asked that question earlier.

Satoru wasn’t yours, nothing was going to change that.

iv. ebb

If I’m not going to tell him, I need to leave.

That was the conclusion you came to after ultimately deciding to keep your child. Gojou Satoru wasn’t yours to keep, that was more than apparent. You wouldn’t force him to stay by means of a pregnancy.

You weren’t the first single mother in existence, you doubted you’d be the last. You’d do everything, without his help. Everything would be figured out in due time, it didn’t matter the run around you would have to take.

It took a week after the trip for you to come to that conclusion, packing your bags so you could head home. You’d transfer to a different school, there was no way you’d be able to keep a pregnancy underwraps on campus. Especially not from your friends.

You tried to distance yourself from your friends slowly, but even an inch was noticeable.

You alright?

What kind of sadists are your professors if you’re this busy?

Just let me know if you need me to come over some kind of distraction. Sorry for coming over earlier unannounced, I shouldn’t have assumed. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Those were the texts Satoru sent you the most. If any your friends doubted you, it seemed Satoru doubted you the most despite your reassurance that once you got your workload more manageable you’d be more available. You told him things were fine, maybe he just doubted you because you never told him he couldn’t come over whenever he felt like it. That was how things had been since you became friends.

Your place was his place, his place was yours.

That’s why Shoko had to be at your apartment, arms crossed and looking thoroughly tired.

“What’s been up with you anyway?” Shoko barged into your apartment before you could stop her. “Satoru’s been driving me insane asking me to check on you.” So she said, but you saw the worry on her face even if she tried to hide it. “So what’s going on? He says he’s pretty sure something is going on and you don’t want to tell him. Are you failing a class or something?”

“Nothing,” you told her a little too quickly and the brunette gave you a look that said ‘girl, please’. If your attempt to look as composed as possible wasn’t doing you favors, neither was how messy your room was. “Seriously, Shoko, I’m fine. Satoru’s just being overdramatic. It’s Satoru, you should know this. He went to your clinic once for almost breaking a nail.”

Shoko rolled her eyes at the memory, “yeah but now he’s pestering me to see if you’re actually fine or if you’re just trying to shut him out,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before the concern peeps out of her face. “He said once in high school Suguru pushed him away and stuff went bad between them for a while. He felt like it was his fault for not trying hard enough to see what was bothering him. The rest of us are being chill about everything but we are worried too, you know. Just considerably less dramatically than others.”

That made your heart twist in both in the best and worst ways.

“It’s...” you took a step back and held yourself. “It’s fine. Tell Satoru he’s just being dramatic.”

“Then why is your suitcase out?” [Color] stared into brown as Shoko’s look told you that she wouldn’t drop it until you came clean to her. “Is it that serious? I won’t force you to talk about it, but I at least want to know how okay you are and it’s something you can manage on your own. That’s all, I promise I won’t say anything to Satoru if you really don’t want him knowing,” she’s the most gentle you’ve ever seen her. Only Utahime is privy to the softest of Shoko’s expressions but you can’t help but appreciate the look of worry she has. But I don’t want you to just up and disappear on us either.”

You opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “I,” you licked your lips and sat down on your couch. “I’m thinking of transferring to another school.”

Shoko peers into your face, “and you’re worried about how we’ll take it?”

You shook your head. “I am worried about that but, I’m more worried about the why I need to leave. My parents will probably freak out too, but I’m going to promise them this isn’t going to stop me from pursuing my education.” Wide as her eyes already were, Shoko’s eyes were practically the size of dinner plates. You cut her off before she could say anything else. “I’m pregnant. I found out on the trip we took.”

...

“It’s Satoru’s,” it wasn’t a question.

Your silence was enough of an answer.

“You’re plan was to transfer schools because you don’t want to tell him you’re pregnant?” Shoko’s eyes were wide and you looked away from her. “[First], you can’t expect me to not tell him about-”

Your eyes snapped back to look at her, “you can’t tell him about this.”

Shoko shook her head, “this isn’t just your kid-”

“I’m the one who’s pregnant, I’m the one who decides what to do with it! It’s none of his business!”

Shoko probably would have slapped you if you weren’t expecting, “it’s his kid too, of course it’s his business!”

“Fine,” you muttered coldly, fixing your friend with a cold stare. “I’ll tell him if you can tell me you genuinely think it’s going to go well. That you can really Gojou Satoru dropping everything to become a father for a kid he never planned on having with someone he never planned on being with. Satoru who can’t commit to a relationship at best or won’t commit at worst,” you remember his genuine fear and subsequent genuine relief. “Hell, that he won’t think I tried babytrapping him because I asked him recently if he saw what we had going anywhere and he clearly didn’t want that.”

Shoko couldn’t say anything.

You shook your head with a humorless huff, “yeah, that’s what I thought too.” You paused to close your eyes and inhale deeply before looking at your friend once more. “I’m not telling him anything. I don’t need his help to raise this baby, I can do this myself.”

Shoko eyes are dark and you knew she was second guessing everything. “[First]-”

“You can’t tell him anything. Not even Suguru, especially not Suguru. He’d tell him right away.” Suguru was your friend, he was a great friend even. But you knew where his loyalties lied. He’d tell Satoru in a heartbeat. “Please,” you pleaded. “I’m asking you as your friend.”

Shoko reached for the pack of cigarettes sticking out of her pocket before dropping her hand to the side. Right, your pregnancy.

You looked at her in desperation, biting your lip. “Please, I’d never ask you this if it wasn’t important. Satoru doesn’t want me,” your eyes stung at the admission even if you accepted that truth ages ago. “Not the way I want him.”

“I,” Shoko released a shaky breath. “I won’t say anything. I promise.”

You dropped out of school without a word to your friends before the month ended.

v. moon

五条・五月。

Gojou Itsuki; you considered writing that on her birth certificate when she was born. Instead, it was your last name Itsuki received.

五, that was the only part of Satoru you would give her, the ‘five’ in Gojou. You promised that little girl you would love her five times as much for his absence.

vi. flow

That all brought you back to now in the present, Gojou Satoru sitting beside you on a park bench while you daughter looked nervously between you both. “Go on then,” you sweep your hand in the direction of the swings. “I’ll be sitting right here, okay? Have some fun with the other kids.”

Yet like moth to a flame, the man with snowy white hair is all your daughter can focus on. “But who is he?”

Satoru opens parts his lips and you beat him to the introductions, “he’s just an old friend of Mama’s, that’s all. Like Aunt Shoko. We haven’t seen each other in a while and we just want to catch up, that’s all. Right?” You shoot Satoru a pleading look.

“That’s right,” Satoru beams. “Maybe I can push you on the swings later.” That makes Itsuki grin back widely. She looks so much like him that there is no denying who she is to him. You know it and so does he.

The smile drops the moment Itsuki is out of an earshot. “You really never planned to tell me about her,” his eyes that normally remind you of crystal clear seas look more akin to frigid chips of ice as he looks at you. “You stop talking to me, you block me on everything out of nowhere and when you dropped out of school, I had no idea where you were-”

“Satoru, you have to understand,” you start, it sounds weak even to you.

Satoru looks at you with a look of pure offense. You can read his mind clearly, “What is there to understand?”

“This was the best outcome for everyone involved. You, me and Itsuki.”

“That isn’t the kind of thing you decide on your own, it takes two to make a child, [First]!”

“We’re not arguing in front of my daughter, Gojou Satoru.”

“No,” the smile that spreads across Satoru’s face is feral. You’ve seen that smile before, one he had whenever he was on the brink of swinging and starting a fight. Never before had that smile been directed at you. “She’s our daughter. My daughter. And I had to find out from Shoko five years after she’s been born that she ever existed in the first place!”

“Like you wanted to be a father anyway,” you hiss, glancing at the growing concern on Itsuki’s face.

“You didn’t even bother asking me what I wanted,” Satoru snaps back. “I would have helped. I want to help.”

“I didn’t want or need your help then and I sure as hell don’t need it now,” you stand up, swinging your wrist away from the large hand that tries to stop you. “You aren’t even her birth certificate,” Satoru flinches like you shot him. “Not your name, not your birthday, not anything. Itsuki’s never even asked about her father,” a lie. It isn’t nearly so frequent as to be considered a problem, but Itsuki did ask about the whereabouts of her father every so often. “It’s just us, Itsuki, I keep telling you that.”

“Do I have another mommy then?”

“No, it’s just us.”

Still, she asks. But Gojou Satoru didn’t need to know about that. “Just go the hell away and leave us alone. I’m not asking for your help, I’ve been doing this alone so far and I plan to keep it that way.”

You take Itsuki home, telling her not to mind the sad-looking man you left on the bench.

“Before you say anything," Shoko starts when she answers the phone. “I know you’re pissed off.”

“No shit,” you all but seethe at your closest friend. Itsuki is asleep and it takes all of your willpower to not turn a firm but loud whisper into shrieks of hysteria. “Shoko, what the-”

“[First], I had to tell him,” Shoko sighs and you can practically smell the nicotine through. “I get it, you were scared back then but Satoru deserved to know he is a father. Itsuki deserves a chance to get to know her father!”

“You don’t get to decide what my kid needs,” you retort immediately. “We have been doing just fine without him in our lives and that’s how I wanted to keep it. Now she keeps asking about the man with the white hair and why he looked so sad and-”

“This isn’t one of those situations where you had a surrogate and did this all on your own, [First]. And he isn’t some random stranger you met some campus party years ago, this is a friend! Why on earth would you tell him that you never put him on the birth certificate.”

“Was. He was a friend,” you correct her. You push back the memories of late night study sessions gone awry by Satoru shoving his phone in your face to show you some video in his recommended list. You ignore the creeping reminders of sharing shit-eating grins, waiting for the moment Suguru learned that you changed his autocorrect for chocolate into something stupid. “We haven’t been friends in years, we’re just old school acquaintances at this point. You know why I never told him about her. And I said it so he would have an out; he doesn’t need to stick around to be her father.”

“And what if she gets tired of you skirting around her questions about him?” Shoko shoots back without giving you a moment to reply that you would handle it if it ever got to the point that it became a problem. “You might be able to skirt around it now but when she gets older she is going to ask and ask and askー and she is going to keep on asking before she does research of her own! There was no way you’d be able to keep this a secret for the rest of her life, what were you planning to do then?!”

“... I was going to figure that out by then.”

“Right and that was going to go by so smoothly and Itsuki wouldn’t feel hurt or betrayed you took away the choice for her to get to know her dad. That could ruin your entire relationship with her.”

“You couldn’t have at least asked?!”

“You never let me! I’m sorry, I’m sorry I betrayed your trust and said things behind your back. I told him to at least let me call and tell you that he knew, but he wanted to meet Itsuki.”

“I just...” your back hit the wall and you slid to the floor, resting your head on your knees. “I don’t know what to do. I didn’t think I would ever see him again.”

There’s silence when Shoko hesitates to reply to your tired voice, “look, I get it. As much as I can try to get it, anyway.” There is only so much that your child-free doctor of a friend can relate to when it comes to your situation. Things worked out perfectly for her when she fucked a friend, Utahime and Shoko’s names were written in the stars. You only admit your envy on lonely nights when thoughts of university days past make a reappearance.

“Satoru is a lot of things. He’s a clown, he’s insufferable and he’s Gojou Satoru that’s enough trouble as it is,” much to your chagrin, you can’t help snorting at her comment. “But he should have a chance to get to know his daughter. You’re a great mom, you’ve been doing great without him. I’ve seen you handle everything, you even went back to school to get your degree. You’ve got the job, everything. I’m not trying to say you need his help, I just want you to be open to the idea of letting him get to know her.”

You think of Itsuki and her questions and the look of hurt that graced Satoru’s face earlier that afternoon. “I don’t want Itsuki to get attached to him only for him to take off,” but a bitter taste fills your mouth at your words. I’m only using Itsuki as an excuse, you can only admit to yourself. The one who doesn’t want to see her father is me.

Fearful you may have been, it was no excuse to keep her away from her father.

“If he does that, I’ll kill him myself. But he wants to be there,” Shoko promises, her voice the softest its been the entire conversation. “He wants to get to know her. She looks just like him.”

She does.

You grab a baby wipe, rolling your eyes in amusement, “Itsuki, you’re getting syrup all over your face, hold still,” gently, you wipe away the sugary mess on her face before it dries and becomes even stickier. Itsuki always leaves the table looking like she’s been off to war. “You definitely don’t get your messy eating habits from me. Let me clean your hands and the fork too.”

Itsuki’s eyes sparkle curiously, “is Daddy a messy eater?”

You look at your daughter, her white hair pulled into pigtails by pastel knockerballs and her blue eyes that sparkle with hope that you’ll have some sort of answer as to the mystery of her secret parent she doesn’t realize she’s already met. “Yeah,” you whisper softly, the ghost of smile on your lips. “He got pretty messy whenever we ate.”

“Really?”

“Yep, and he would always steal the chips out of my bag whenever he thought I wasn’t looking,” you smile knowingly. He isn’t the only one guilty of such a crime. “Kinda like how someone always takes extra bites out of my pudding cups when she thinks I’m not looking.” Itsuki erupts into giggles as you pinch her cheeks now free of syrup. “You really want to meet your papa, don’t you,” you ask almost weakly, resting your hand on the table.

With a nod of excitement, Itsuki answers your question with an unmistakable yes.

“What if Mommy brings Daddy to pick you up from daycare soon? Would you like that?”

Itsuki gasps in disbelief, “Really?!”

Your nerves don’t show as you grin in return, “really.”

The first few rings you wait for Satoru to pick up the phone later in the day are painful.

I should have just asked Shoko to do this, you pace anxiously in the employee parking lot of your job. A childish part of you wishes you had asked your friend seeing as she had already spilled the beans to you. But you remember the more than subtle tone in her voice when she mentioned the other day that Satoru’s number hadn’t changed in all the years you spent out of his life. He’s the father of your child, [First], you scold yourself. Get a grip.

A second later when he picks up the line, you almost hang up in a panic.

“... Hey, [First],” he sounds like he’s grinning but it lacks his usual bravado. “You didn’t change your number.”

“Neither did you,” you reply nervously, fiddling with the fabric of your uniform as the expected awkward silence filled the air. Five years ago, Satoru was one of the easiest people in the world to talk to. Annoying and arrogant at times, most of the times even, but still easy. He spoke his mind clearly; it’s hard reconciling that person with the silence on the other side of the phone. “I shouldn’t have kept Itsuki from you,” you finally begin. “And I shouldn’t have said what I did yesterday, you have a right to be mad at what I did. I’m sorry.”

Satoru’s sigh is slow, “why didn’t you tell me in all these years? If Shoko never said anything, were you really not going to tell me about her at all?”

“Can we not-”

“No, I get to know why you didn’t want to let me know I had a daughter,” Satoru’s voice hardens and you know that running away isn’t an option. Old habits seem to die hard. “You didn’t even tell me you were pregnant.”

“I was scared, okay?” Scared and pathetically in love with someone who didn’t want you back. “I didn’t know how you were going to react... and I didn’t know if you would want to be part of the baby’s life if I decided to keep it. We weren’t even a couple. I freaked out and thought this was best course of action.”

“I would have helped, I would have been there. We were friends, [First],” you can’t tell if he sounds more angry or sad with your younger self’s line of reasoning. “You really thought I would have let you done everything on your own? I would have had your back from day one.”

“.... I’m sorry, I can’t take it back but I’m sorry,” you rest your back against the side of your car. The breeze on your skin doesn’t calm you as much as you’d like.

Satoru sighs again and he’s quiet, contemplative and your heart races wondering what is going through his mind. Would he curse you? Maybe he would take you to court for his parental rights. Instead, Satoru peacefully asks, “what’s she like?”

“Adorable,” your lips quirk slightly at the thought of your child. “I’m pretty sure Shoko’s probably shown you some pictures, so you probably know that already.” Painfully adorable and the entire world knew it, it’s a blessing she isn’t nearly as much of a troublemaker as her father. If she were, you don’t doubt Itsuki would get away with most of her ‘crimes’. “She’s a sweet girl, if she sees a caterpillar on the neighbor’s strawberries, she’ll pick it up and ask if we can take it to the park so it can eat there instead.”

You both share a laugh at that. “She’s smart too, she just sucks things up like a sponge. And she’s popular at daycare, you know,” she gets it from her father, that is easy to admit. Satoru definitely surpasses everyone you know, yourself included, when it comes to attracting people to him. Even when he’s annoying you can’t help but be drawn in. “She’s good at making friends, always looks out for the ones there who have a harder time connecting with people.”

“It’s nice to know she got all her charm and good looks from me,” Satoru chuckles smugly. “It’s a no-brainer the people love her, I expect nothing less from my kid.”

“Oh shut up,” yet you can’t deny his claim. She is Gojou Satoru’s daughter through and through. “She’s a lovable kid; Itsuki was born for it.”

“Was Itsuki the only name in the running?”

“It’s a pretty name, isn’t it? There were others in the running though,” you count down on your fingers the various options you ultimately decided against. “Itsuki stuck out the best.”

“What characters did you use to write her name?”

“The characters for ‘Five’ and ‘Moon’,” you answer softly, remembering the various combinations you could have gone with. Ultimately, there was only one that you could have gone with. “I got the idea from your last name, I... I wanted her to have a part of you with her even if she didn’t know you.”

There’s a pause then a shaky breath. “Gojou Itsuki,” Satoru says finally, sounding a million miles away despite being just on the other line.

“She has my name,” you tell him gently.

“I know,” Satoru replies softly yet there’s a tinge of emotion you can’t quite place. Melancholy? Acceptance? Perhaps a little bit of both. “I just wanted to try it out.”

Silence falls over you both again and you hug yourself despite the sweltering heat of the afternoon. Shoko is right, your secret wasn’t one that was sustainable. “Do you,” your lips suddenly feel too dry and you lick your lips. “Do you want to pick her up from daycare with me today? She wants to meet you, she always has. She even asked about you this morning.”

He does. It shouldn’t surprise you that he does and it doesn’t. Still, your heart pounds when you see him show up at the daycare your daughter spends a large portion of her time at. “Hi,” you greet him nervously.

“Hey,” even though he’s grinning, his smile is a bit off kilter. A sugary pink bag hangs from one his arms. “I uh, didn’t know exactly what sort of things she like but I got her a present. You said she’s really into whale sharks, right? So I got her a plush.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him Itsuki already has five. She’d love his gift anyway. Maybe the one he got her would become her favorite.

“She might adore that more than you,” you joke but you give him a nod a beat later. “But don’t worry about what happened last time. She’ll be happy to see you in a better mood, she was worried about you when we left the park.” Maybe that was the father-daughter bond at work, or maybe it was your child’s empathetic nature.

Maybe both.

You already discussed things with him after he agreed to come meet her properly. He could get to know Itsuki, could even meet the daycare attendants. It would just be a while before you’d be able to trust him with being an emergency contact.

“Hey, Choso,” you wave at the man with pigtails. Intimidating as he looks, his daycare is surprisingly popular due to the low rates. He wanted a place where his youngest brother could grow up happily with his friends. “This,” you start before Choso can question you, gesturing to Satoru. “... This is Itsuki’s father. You’ll uh, probably see him coming around a lot more when I pick her up from now.”

There’s a lengthy pause.

“Nice to meet you,” Choso’s tone says otherwise. If it were possible, Choso’s face would be place right under the definition of judgement. He is definitely deeming Satoru a deadbeat that was finally crawling out from the woodworks.

Satoru ignores it with the air of confidence he didn’t have a few minutes ago outside, “thanks for looking after my kid while [First] was busy. I haven’t been around but I’m hoping to make up for all the lost time.”

You doubt that was meant to be a dig, you still take it as one. “Itsuki’s playing with Yuuji and the rest of their friends right now. You’ll see her at the playground,” he gestures at the infant in his hands. “I have a diaper to change.”

“Don’t worry, I got it,” you wave. “And tell Kechizu that he needs to stop cooking better than me. The other day Itsuki said she liked his lunches more than mine.” That manages to get a snicker out of the man.

“Itsuki!” You call out once you’re on the playground and you see her eyes light up with recognition and a ‘Mommy!’ Even funnier is her little excited jig before she runs over to hug you although she stops as she recognizes the man beside you.

She glances between the two of you and you smile reassuringly. “Why are you getting so shy? Don’t you remember what I promised at breakfast?”

Itsuki’s eyes widen and her jaw drops wordlessly. You suppose she might not have truly been expecting you’d make good on your promise. At least, definitely not so soon.

“Itsuki, this is Satoru, your father,” you tell her gently, smile small. “Although I suppose, you already met him yesterday. It just didn’t go at all the way it was supposed to.” But what was done was done; Itsuki deserved to know her father. You wouldn’t take away that choice because of your own fears anymore.

“Daddy?” Itsuki asks Satoru, voice just above a whisper.

Satoru nods, settling down on one knee to look her in those familiar blue eyes. “That’s right, kiddo,”

“Daddy?!” Itsuki hops in disbelief, looking between the two of you before her eyes settle on yours again. “It’s really Daddy?!” You aren’t sure if Itsuki knows whether she wants to cry or run away in disbelief that this moment is finally happening.

You knelt beside your old friend, “say hi to your father, Itsuki.”

The tears suddenly well in her eyes but despite Satoru’s panicked voice, you can tell they aren’t sad ones as Itsuki throws her arms over Satoru’s shoulders. And if your eyes are warmer than they were a few moments ago, you don’t mind it as you watch you’re daughter hug her father for the first time.

Itsuki adores Satoru, that’s what you learn in the span of a single afternoon. And yes, she does love the whale shark plush he got her more than the other five you already purchased. She cried even harder when he hugged her back, softly promising he wasn’t going anywhere. That he’d always be there and he would come see her as much as she wanted.

She adores how he took her out for ice cream before dinner and how even after dinner, he purchased even more dessert.

He was weak to her with no immunity built up over the past five years.

This was why he couldn’t say no when she pleaded he stayed over to at least watch a movie with her before bedtime. Not that you had any room to talk considering how easily you agreed.

“So she had to get Merlin’d?” Satoru asks incredulously as the credits roll across the screen.

“That is not what was supposed to happen, the beautiful girl is subjective to the one who got cursed!” You tell him, flabbergasted that that was the conclusion he came to. Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarves is far more than a comedy. It’s social commentary! “Not to mention the body positive message it sends with the fact that shoes represent societal standards of beauty along with the objectification and idolization Snow experiences while wearing them which further supported the fact that had she had gone to the F7 as herself they wouldn’t have he-”

“Nope, too late. I like my idea better,” you could strangle this man.

“You’re going to ruin Itsuki’s perception of love,” you shoot Satoru a look of amusement and annoyance. At the very least, you know he enjoyed it.

“Good, I don’t need some snot-nosed brat trying to win over my kid that’s obviously aroace,” Satoru says firmly as he picks up your very much fell-asleep-before-the-movie-ended daughter. It’s almost uncanny how natural it looks to you, like he had been around from the start. He probably should have been. You were the one who took that choice from him and made him an unintentional deadbeat.

“Satoru, she’s five and doesn’t even know what that means yet,” you say instead, Satoru oblivious to the thoughts running around your head. One day you’d tell Itsuki the truth, once she was a little older.

“What? She told me she was aroace when I asked earlier today,” Satoru tells you petulantly, moving away when you try to hold her.

“Only because you told her you’d give her ice cream if she agreed to be,” ice cream she wasn’t even supposed to eat because it would spoil her appetite for dinner in a moment you weren’t supposed to see. “It means you’ll love Daddy forever and think everyone else is gross,” Satoru happily exclaimed, holding a cup of Itsuki’s favorite salted cookie dough ice cream. The five year old happily obliged to his whims.

Maybe Satoru will be right in his hopeful predictions that romance will be the last thing on your daughter’s mind in the future thought. On the other hand, maybe he’d be dead wrong and forced to tolerate whoever she brings home in the future.

“They’re just like you, Dad, but they’re brilliant!” She’ll say, hearts in her eyes.

You almost wanted to manifest the opposite of his wishes, only to see the face Satoru would make. It is far too early to be thinking about such things however.

“I don’t want my kid to date anyone, sue me. So I’m manifesting early,” Satoru pouts as he starts takes her to her room to lay her across her bed.

“You’re so stupid,” you roll your eyes and shake your head in exasperation, but a look of fondness is apparent in your expression.

Maybe you were born to see this moment, the moment you could see that Gojou Satoru is absolutely smitten with his daughter. You can see it in how he presses a kiss to the temple of her forehead as he takes her to his room.

Itsuki was born to be loved, she makes it too easy just by being herself. Suddenly your fears from before felt unfounded. You knew underneath the rejection of Satoru in your life that he would have been there and he would have been more than happy to shoulder the burdens of parenthood even in a platonic way. You stop yourself from wondering what that path might have looked like. You made your choice and this is path you’re on now, there is no other way but forward.

“I’ll have you know,” Satoru points a finger gun at you smugly when he returns, child-free, “my kid thinks I’m the smartest man in the world. So one of you is lying and I know it’s not her.”

“Your kid is biased and spoiled from snacks and gifts,” you retort softly with a grin.

“I don’t hear the voices of the naysayers praying for my downfall, sorry,” you both release a chuckle at your exchange and a comfortable silence falls between you both. “I should probably get going I guess.”

You smile at him politely, “we should do this again sometime, I wanna see what else in our movie collection Itsuki will have you watch next.”

Satoru grins, “it better be the Digimon reboot DVD set I saw in the corner,” he pauses before asking you seriously, “our kid does like Digimon, right?”

“You’ll be happy to know that her favorites are Palmon, Kokomon and Wormmon in that order,” you tell him smugly. How could he think otherwise? Did he forget who you were? “The plushies are just in the toy chest she has at the foot of her bed.”

Your child had to be a fan of Digimon, she had no other choice.

Pt 2 Here

translation:

五月 five moons

五 five (same character in Gojou 五条)

月 moon

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #satoru gojo x reader #baby daddy gojou au #this came to me in a discord conversation and it wouldn't leave my mind so i had to write it because it is messy #this was getting so long it has to be split

393 notes · View notes

unbindingkerberos · 1 year

Text

Recovery (A Sequel to Exeunt)

Words: 903

Warnings: None

Author's Note: Slight ooc?? I'm not sure. Had to rewrite this fic a couple of times since I wasn't satisfied with earlier versions/ drafts. Fic takes place before the new Siege comic. Either way, I hope you enjoy. <3

Tags: @poisonedtruth @unpetitoiseau @children-of-epiales @shegetsburned @linoleum-ice

Foot tapping restlessly, sweaty palms clasping each other, form leaning back and forth and head aimed at the floor, Marius waits anxiously outside the infirmary. His stomach twists knots into knots, and a tension rises in his Adam's apple. Guilt bubbles in his throat and his tapping increased to a fast pace. Why was this taking so long? Did something happen? Is he--

No. Marius buries his face in his palms, feeling tears stinging his eyes. This can't be happening. It's all his fault. He should've done something-- noticed something was off beforehand. But now it's too late and Henry's hurt. Hurt because he saved him.

It really is my fault.

The door to the infirmary opens and Gustave exits the room. Marius springs up from his seat. "Is he-- is Henry okay?" The Frenchman sighs. "We successfully removed the rest of the shrapnel from his back. Thankfully, none of it seems to reach his spinal cord." Marius releases a sigh he's been holding on. "Gott sei Dank." His voice trembles with a shakiness. Gustave puts a comforting hand on Marius's shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. "He's still resting but I'll give you some time to see him."

"Danke, Gustave." Marius murmurs.

The door opens with a click and he sees the laying form of one Henry Adler-- a calm look ever present on his face. Marius drags a stool and sits right next to him. He takes Henry's hand and holds it near his chest. "Please wake up soon."

"Marius, aren't you supposed to be preparing for your mission?" The man in question gives off a smile as he replaces the worn, withered irises with fresh ones-- evident by their flourishing indigo palette. "Ja, but I finished preparing some time ago." Henry quirks a brow. "Is that so?" He playfully hums, eyes narrowing as his lips spread into a faint smile. "Alright, I believe you. A bit."

Marius finishes with the arrangement and discards the withered ones in the bin. A new weight is added to the mattress as Marius joins Henry in bed. "I hope the flowers keep you company, liebling. I don't want you to be alone here as you recover." A heat makes its way to Henry's cheeks. It had been a few days since he confessed his feelings towards him. He still could remember the memory like it was yesterday.

(Henry clasps his hands with Marius's, fingers interlocking with one another. He had just awakened a few hours ago. "Thank you." Marius's lips twitch at the comment-- still taken aback by the suddenness of the situation. "What do you mean?" Henry smiles and he takes the other's hand and moves it to cup his cheek earning a shudder from the German. "You make me feel feelings that I have not felt for so long." A lock of hair falls to Henry's face. "And that scared me."

Marius's face deflates and Henry quickly realizes. "It wasn't your fault but mine. I was so blinded by my… confusion that I didn't realize it at first."

"Realize what?"

"That I love you."

The look on Marius's face was indescribable and for a moment Henry thought he had made a mistake. But that fear was quickly gone when the German leaned closer, a growing reddening in his cheeks.

"Henry."

Being bold, Henry closes the distance between their faces. "Marius, it's about time I gave you the proper send-off you deserved that night.")

Both of them, still new to the concept of romantic relationships, did some research beforehand and asked for the guidance of other operators (even if the majority disapprove of the pairing). They've just set up some boundaries and ground rules with one another so that both parties can feel comfortable. It has been some time and so far all was well. But then again, this was the early stages of their relationship.

Henry rests his head on Marius's chest, feeling the thrum of the other's heartbeat. "Hmmm, how thoughtful of you." He lets out a long sigh, relaxed. Marius quirks a brow. "But I'm always thoughtful." Henry chuckles at the straightforward yet innocent reply. "I know." They stayed like this for a while until Marius brought up a proposal. "Want to sneak into the workshop again?" Henry flashes him a mischievous look. "Why not?"

Their little moment was interrupted when Nayara entered the scene. For a while she had a shocked and flustered look on her face but she quickly composed herself. "We'll be leaving in a couple of minutes now. Get your gear and meet us at the carrier." Marius and Henry exchanged some looks with each other. "Don't be late, Streicher." Marius was the first to leave, waving Henry goodbye. Nayara was soon to follow but was stopped when Henry called out to her.

"Bring him back alive." Was all he said in a commanding tone.

The woman freezes for a while before nodding. "I will."

And now Henry was left alone with his thoughts. Thoughts that shifted back to Deimos and the warehouse. When he makes a full recovery, Henry promises to himself, he'll have a talk with the man behind that mask. Was he starting to doubt Henry? Unless of course this was his irritating way of testing his loyalty. Henry lets out a frustrated sigh and his hands curl into balls of tight fists.

Oh well, guess he'll have to deal with it then.

#rainbow six oc #henry adler #rainbow six siege #r6 oc #henry babel adler #r6 oc babel #r6 jager #r6 doc (brief appearance)#r6 brava (brief appearance)

11 notes · View notes

tka-trashfire · 4 months

Text

I’m actually on break-of-sorts! There’s extra free time in my days, and I can do what I want with it! (Even better—after a couple days spent zombie-ing in front of a video game and tv shows—my brain even kinda wants to do things. How refreshing flsdafjsa;)

So! A fic author interview, which the lovely @lynne-monstr tagged me in half an age ago. :D

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

327, apparently. God knows how many have been let loose to swim in the sweetly-orphaned seas.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

863,428.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

How Impolite, How Imprudent (The Walking Dead, Beth/Daryl) - 1,108 kudos.

Stripped (Death Note, Near/Mello) - 720 kudos.

let’s embrace the point of no return (Guardian, Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan) - 669 kudos.

Hoping's Free (The Walking Dead, Beth/Daryl/Rick) - 639 kudos.

The Married Ones (BBC Sherlock, Sherlock/Watson) - 625 kudos.

Mostly this is just… happening to write for popular ships sometimes, I think, rather than any reflection on the actual stories themselves.

Although, The Walking Dead ones were very much just posted at exactly the right point in time��AKA right when the folks who were gonna be reading Beth-centric stories were turning up to find it…and when there really weren’t many. I remember finding it really fun to write for that ship, in no small amount because it felt exactly like writing for my usual rarer pair stuff… but with bonus readers. XD

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always plan to. They make me so happy! Unfortunately, my brain makes replying to comments a whole lot more complicated than it actually is… meaning I put it aside for when I’ll have the energy/capacity… and then my executive dysfunction sneaks in and eats my good intentions for breakfast. ;;

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t really write angsty endings very often. I guess… against the world? Probably? That’s pretty miserable through-and-through, and is definitely lacking my usually compulsive need to find a happy note to end on.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

…everything? XD

Honestly, my first thought was to crib off Lynne’s answer and say a story that goes real sad before it gets happy. But… that just makes me want to say my Reunion Dinner GaoQiao break-up fic (In the space of your leaving), except… I haven’t actually posted the final chapters for that yet. Meaning it’s happy ending is currently hypothetical, and it’s therefore disqualified from this category. 😂

In which case, I guess… maybe Hoping's Free, actually. I wouldn’t have thought of it, except that I was doing the sort-by-kudos thing, which made me look at it again. But it’s probably a better answer for this than my usual fluff, if only because it was written in this almost grimly hopeful tone that was very intentionally at odds with the canon I was writing from (TWD). (And was probably influenced by the fact I was sitting there writing a “pregnant at the end of the world” story whilst hugely pregnant myself, ha.)

7. Do you write crossovers?

As in, non-fusion crossovers? Where you have characters from both things interacting? Not really, to be honest. I used to, a fair bit, although I’m not sure I ever actually posted any of them. I just recently stumbled across some unfinished drafts for some Harry Potter x Bleach stuff, which was honestly fascinating to look at because I would not think of something like that now.

I do still write a bunch of fusion-style crossovers, though. Like, I’m plotting constantly plotting those bastard things. (Seriously, constantly: my poor SO cannot engage with a show or a video game with me without knowing that I’m probably sitting there thinking about where Qiao Yifan would fit into it jadlf;jasdfl.) Unfortunately, it’s just… a lot harder for me to actually finish those stories. Or sometimes, even to start them. They’re definitely one of those cases where I need to get much better at just… dropping my worldbuilding glee into a tumblr post or something, sigh.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Once. So very long ago that I don’t even remember what it was about, just that I had the sweetest group of friends who made it immediately less devastating for my rejection-sensitive ass (thereby saving me from quitting fandom not long after I had discovered it). <3

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

So much smut! Mostly the kind with a whole lotta feelings.

It’s not that I don’t write other things—I write so many other things—but smut comes with this bonus setting for me, where it’s just a hundred times simpler than anything else (especially when compared to anything that tries to grow Real Plot—see Question 7, so help me). And that just makes it wayyy easier to actually, y’know, write. And finish. And edit. And post.

(Not that sex can’t be complicated, or complex, because of course it can! But it’s still easier than so many other forms of human interaction, y’know? Or… maybe it’s just that sex is the perfect chill-switch for my brain, and that’s carried over into how I use it for writing, too? Who knows!)

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope. At least, not to my knowledge.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yesss, and it’s always exciting! Translators are the best. ♥!!

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I’ve planned to! Life got in the way, alas.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

What’s an all-time favourite anything, precious?

Whatever’s bouncing around in my head in the moment, generally. Although, that said, I do keep returning over and over and over to GaoQiao in a way that definitely should give it some kind of special status, so… there’s that. XD

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Hey, that’s quitter talk, Question 14. Anyway, everyone knows I’m trapped in a fandom until I’ve had all my WIPs wrung out of me. (That’s how it works, right? Right?)

More seriously, though, I… am not really sure. There are definitely some WIPs I am constantly thinking I should just give up on and post as partly fleshed-out outlines—because I love them, but I’m not sure I have the spoons to genuinely finish them.

Like, uh, haha, y’know—the insane FangWang fairytale-esque thing, the structure of which was very purposefully built off Propp’s functions (the, uh, narrative elements of a folk tale, per Propp’s Morphology of a Folk Tale stuff), because… I’m a raging nerd who re-falls down the folk tale rabbit hole at least once a year…? I do really love that fic, so very much, because there’s so much going on in it (actual witches! changelings and neurodiversity! Lin Jie baggage! FangWang being insufferable and wonderful and full of feelings! fae folk being terrible! fae folk being So Fucking Right! trials being passed! trials being failed! homely cooking, and magical needlework, and grumpy softhearted healers chopping firewood, oh my!) But also… there’s so fucking much going on in it, dear god.

It’s probably my best candidate for being flung up as a dot-point fic, but… I remain swimming in a sea of self-delusion, haha.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I think… I really like getting in the guts of things, when it comes to writing about characters as people-in-bodies. (Which… is a sentence I keep re-writing, but it’s not getting any less unhinged any time soon, so it can just stay there as-is.)

I really like that sense of grounding, anyway: of being grounded in skin and bones and body-connected feelings, which is… mildly hilarious considering—therapist noises intensify.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Executive dysfunction.

Uh. Yeah, so, I’m super bad at internalising that grammar exists for Reasons, and that those Reasons are that other people don’t necessarily think or read with the apparently weird rhythm that I do. And that means… y’know… that my own shit needs to confirm to at least a baseline of some kind or else it’ll become kinda unreadable. (I am getting better at it, I think. I am. It’s an endless project. Commas are my own personal hell.)

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I do kinda get why people might do this, because baby-me was pretty enamoured with it.

Now that I’m no longer Baby, however—at least, not when it comes to this—it’s not really something I would do. I’m also more likely to politely exit back out of stories that do choose to do it, although that’s mostly because it tends to be one of those markers that says Things about whether or not I’m going to jive with a story. (As a boring-ass adult with too little functional time on her hands.)

(On the other hand, I am deeply into terms of address/honorifics being kept and used. They can provide such a rich dose of information about intimacy, familiarity, and all the rest of it. That said, I tick-tock back and forth like a busted clock on whether I think they should be translated or not.)

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Animorphs, probably, although I didn’t know what a fandom was at that point. My first posted fic was for Stargate Atlantis.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I’m going to find a way to write that sedoretu Gao Yingjie/Fang Shiqian/Wang Jiexi/Qiao Yifan story if it fucking kills me.

(Also this random Gao Yingjie/Qiao Yifan & Su Mucheng/Wang Jiexi partner-swapping thing that’s been living rent-free in my head for literal years, but which has never actually been written down as anything more than a one line note. C’mon, story, get out of my head and onto some damn paper!)

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written

We play favourites in this house! Also… I’m just really bad at making those kinds of choices.

But—you know what? Fuck it, in the days this draft has been sitting here, I gotta say, I’ve kept thinking—probably the older the ginger (the spicier it gets). It’s peak rare pair, but I had such a blast writing it, and it’s one of those odd things I actually enjoy re-reading, too. <3

#askmeme

3 notes · View notes

drysaladandketchup · 6 months

Text

Writing Meme

Tagged by my dear @irrelevanttous <3

RULES: go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason

first fic you ever published on Ao3: Spirit of Champions, for the Supernatural/Destiel fandom. I don't even know why I'm linking the fic, it was ten years ago I'd like to think my writing has improved a lot since then so... maybe don't read it lol. I actually have another fic that says it was posted on the same date but I think that's because I moved them both over from livejournal at the same time, so whatever

last fic you published: Acts of Devotion for the Hockey/Mattdrai fandom. Much prouder of this fic haha, though I was still getting a feel for hockey and these guys during it's construction. It hopefully won't be my last mattdrai fic though. Got a few ideas and WIPs sitting in my drafts

a fic you wrote for a fandom/ship only once: I don't think I've ever written just one fic for a fandom. Though I certainly have many abandoned WIP's and a few unpublished fics from days gone by. Also due to a lack of ideas or energy, I often end up publishing nothing for a fandom, despite my love for it. But I'll go with the fandom I only published two fics for. After Life's Fitful Fever, He Sleeps Well for The Terror. It's actually a platonic ship (if that counts? Depends on your definition of 'ship' I suppose), but it's still one I'm quite fond of overall

favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship with the most works: well I already mentioned Supernatural, so that would be the obvious answer lol. But I already did that, so I'm going to go with a fic from the next biggest fandom I've published for. Which I would say is String Theory for Final Fantasy XV. The only FF game I've ever played, but I had a grand old time, made a lot of friends and had a lot of growth in that community

fic you wish more people read: Can I say any of my fics from the Dunkirk fandom? No? Boo. It's a tiny fandom so I don't expect a tonne of interaction haha. But it is the fandom I've written the most for. Ideas just kept on coming (probably because I love history and angst). So I'd say... Where You Were, Where You're Needed. My first for the fandom, and one I still love dearly

fic you agonized over the most: Skybound, for Dunkirk. It's the only novel-length fic I've written, and it took me two years. I also didn't publish it until it was completely finished, edited, re-drafted, and remodelled within an inch of it's life so... yeah that one. Plus all the history research and story planning that went into it was a lot more than I usually do. It was fun, I'm glad I finished it, but fuck I don't know how people write novels regularly. Stephen King tell me your secret

fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort: For The Glory, for the Hockey/Mattdrai fandom. Maybe the fastest I've written anything. Basically wrote it from start to finish within a couple hours, not including food and sleep. Not a monumental fic, no, but for someone with chronic fatigue and adhd... astounding. It was very much a result of conversations with M. and her determination to drag me into hockey and mattdrai. Successfully, clearly haha

work you are proud of: I'm going to say Skybound again. Small fandom, but a huge fic for me. One I could probably turn into an original piece with minimal finagling if I wanted. I would also like to think one could enjoy the fic without having seen Dunkirk. That being said, now that it's been over a year a half since I finished it, I'm already looking at it thinking 'I could have written this differently. I could have removed this or tweaked that.' Editor hell. But I'm leaving it as is, using it as a benchmark for my (hopefully) continued improvement as a writer. I think I improved over the course of writing it, even. A lot changed from inception to publication. But I'm no less proud of it, as a written work or as a story. I did what I wanted, and I wrote the exact story I wanted to read. So I'm happy :)

Thank you for the tag, M.! <3

#text #asks #see M. if you tag me in things I will do them. eventually. it just takes me a while lol

2 notes · View notes

notsopersonalcharlie · 1 year

Text

Hotshot Part 4 - Waffles

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Army!OC - Fluff

tags: @rousethemouse @hotchgan @hotchnerxo @chaoticconnoisseurgiver

Warnings: None that I can think of

Notes: Basically just meeting Jack, but also other stuff lol. Also a long one. The long awaited part 4, hoping to draft part 5 soon as well, which will more than likely be the last part in this series. Let me know what you think. Gif isn’t mine

Part 1 here - Part 2 here - Part 3 here

Aaron woke up to weight on his chest and opened his eyes to find Jack sitting there staring down at him.

“Daddy, your alarm has been going off literally forever.” Literally forever had been his favorite thing to say recently.

“You know you staring at me is very creepy.” Jack grinned, holes where some of his teeth were still missing or growing in.

“You said we have big plaaaaans,” he said, flopping to the side and starfishing out as Aaron reached to his bedside table to turn off his alarm. He had a text from Willow that had been sent an hour ago.

“We do, why don’t you go get dressed in jeans and a shirt and we’ll head out soon.” Jack nodded, bouncing up and down a few times before dashing off.

“And don’t forget a sweatshirt, it’s cold out!”

“Okaaaay.” Aaron looked at his phone again, reading the text.

Willow Cutler: Back from the gym. Ready to go when you are.

He shot back that they would be ready soon before getting out of bed and starting to get dressed. It had only been a few months now since they had met again, but the engagement ring he had kept for her was sitting on his dresser. He looked at it for a moment before picking up the challenge coin beside it and going to check on Jack. He had jeans on, but was rifling through his drawers for a shirt.

“C’mon buddy, what color do you want to wear at least?” Aaron helped him pick out a shirt, but when Jack put it on he noticed a grass stain.

“I can’t wear that one,” he said, hurriedly going back to try to find another.

“Why not? It’s ok if its a little dirty.” Aaron pointed out that he was wearing a t-shirt and a sweatshirt as well.

“I want your friend to like me.” Aaron couldn’t help but smile.

“I promise she’s going to like you anyway. But let’s find one you want to wear.” Jack finally settled on an orange and black Star Wars one that was the match to the shirt Aaron was wearing. He put on a hoodie over it from his soccer team before grabbing socks and following Aaron out to the car. Aaron texted Willow that they were on their way before starting the car. It wasn’t a long ride.

“Where are we going? It’s not too far right? I still have to go to practice later, remember?” Aaron nodded, catching his eye in the review.

“I know buddy, we’re just going to get breakfast.”

“Oh YEAH!” Jack yelled, sticking his hand out the window. It was a little chilly out, getting closer to the fall, but the sun was shining and it really was a perfect day for his soccer practice. They arrived at the diner pretty quickly. Jack and him went there often when Aaron had time off and Jack hopped out of the car on his own and raced to the door. Willow was leaning against the front of her car and looking at her phone when the car pulled up, and had watched the boy bolt for the door.

“Likes breakfast?” She asked, walking up to where Aaron had stopped to make sure the car was locked.

“Loves it. Waffles though, not pancakes.” She grinned, and Aaron gave a small sigh of defeat.

“Yes, I know. They’re better because of the-”

“Pockets of goodness!” Willow finished.

“Jack, bud, this is my friend Willow. We’ve known each other for a long long time.” Jack looked up at her and stuck out his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” She shook it and smiled.

“Quite the gentleman. It’s nice to meet you, Jack. Your dad has said a lot about you the last couple weeks.” Aaron went to open the door and just barely caught the boy saying, “Dad has a picture of you on the wall in his room.” Aaron squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the door open, a blush taking over his face. Jack skipped in, going straight to the hostess. Willow gave him a smirk as she stepped by him.

“A picture of me, huh?”

“Yes, I do have a picture of you and me.” Aaron’s hand rested on her lower back as they walked, following Jack and the hostess to one of the booths.

Breakfast was easy, and Jack took to Willow immediately, fascinated by the few stories she told about Aaron when they were younger and the fact that she had been in the Army with Aaron. He asked a million questions a minute until he got his waffles and then things quieted down, Aaron tapping his knee against Willow’s as they ate.

“Do you want to come to my soccer practice?” Jack asked while he stole bacon off Aaron’s plate. Willow’s eyebrows went up and she looked to Aaron, who gave a small ‘its up to you’ shrug.

“You can practice with me too! We always get there early so dad and I can run around,” Jack continued, then in a poor stage whisper said, “He’s not very good.” Willow grinned.

“He never was. And sure, I’ll come.” Jack clapped excitedly, and continued to talk about his soccer team and about all the people on the team. She drove her own car over to the apartment complex, and for the first time entered Aaron’s new home. As they walked up the stairs, Aaron could remember the first time he had gone to her house, later than he had hoped after over two years together.

Aaron hopped out of the blue pickup, checking himself in the side mirror before going up to the door. He could hear barking inside, and he knocked twice before taking a step back. A burly man opened the door, surveying Aaron with careful eyes.

“Hello, sir. Aaron Hotchner.” The man’s eyes narrowed, but he reached out and shook Aaron’s extended hand.

“C’mon in.” They stepped into the house and Aaron was immediately accosted by two large German Shepards, which came to sniff every inch of him they could reach.

“Willow, the boy’s here,” her father called up the stairs as he walked past.

“A drink?” he asked him.

“Uh, no sir, I’m not old enough yet.” The man nodded as he made his way into the kitchen that Aaron could see down the hall, leaving Aaron alone with the dogs.

“Sadie, get off’im,” Willow’s voice came, and Aaron turned to see her coming down the stairs. Her hair was down in loose waves, and she hopped off the last step into his arms. It was the first time they had been apart for any length of time since they met. Aaron squeezed her tight, face buried in her shoulder.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she said quietly. He set her down, careful of the dogs, and she led the way further back in the house.

Aaron unlocked the door, and Jack raced in, turning a corner and disappearing.

“Welcome to the Hotchner residence.” To Willow’s surprise, in the back corner on a shelf, the first thing that caught her eye, was a number of things from their army days, including a framed photo of their unit. The living room was cluttered with children’s things, but it looked lived in and clean.

“What?” Aaron asked, as she stood looking around the apartment, just inside the doorway. She looked at him, a smirk on her face.

“What?” he asked again, stepping closer to her so he could press a kiss to her lips. It felt like he had so many more to make up for.

“You don’t see it?” she asked, taking a step in and peeking into the kitchen as well.

“No?”

“So you didn’t intentionally set up your living room exactly like ours was?” Aaron looked around and froze after a moment of thinking back to what their living room had looked like. He didn’t think of himself as sentimental all that much, but apparently his subconscious was. The TV was across the les wide part of the room from the TV and along the back wall there was two bookshelves around the window, with a small bench under it littered with a number of Jack’s things on it. Still, it was exactly the same as their old house.

“I guess... I d-” Willow cut him off with a kiss, arms wrapped around his neck. Aaron’s hands slipped to her waist, tugging her closer. When he pulled away from her lips, he pressed his face into her shoulder, arms wrapping all the way around her and pulling him flush against her. Willow’s eyes closed, fingers running through the hair at the back of his neck. It was still short like he kept it when he was in the Army. Aaron didn’t want to let go. He could feel the last time he hugged her, the last time he hugged Haley. Those last moments with both of them had destroyed him, but he told himself this time he wouldn’t he holding Willow’s body for the last time. He wouldn’t let her away from him ever again.

Both of them pulled away with tears in their eyes, and Willow used her thumbs to swipe his off his cheeks, her mascara already running. He kissed her softly, then pressed his forehead to hers.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Aaron.” Once they finally pulled away from each other, Aaron couldn’t take his hand from her side as they walked around the small apartment.

“Alright, you gotta let go of me so I can use the bathroom and fix my face.” Aaron grabbed her waist, spinning her into his chest.

“There’s nothing wrong with your face.” He kissed her, and let her go, peeking into Jack’s room to make sure he was almost ready.

“Can you get me an extra water bottle today, dad? I ran out last time.” Aaron nodded and headed to the kitchen. One cold water bottle was in the fridge already, but Aaron put ice and water in another, tucking them into Jack’s soccer bag and checking that his cleats were in there as well. He went back to the kitchen to grab some snacks and water for him and Willow.

Willow stepped out of the bathroom, watching Aaron head back into the small kitchen, and then took another step across the hall into Aaron’s bedroom. It wasn’t big. Jack had gotten the better end of the deal, and clearly Aaron had given him the master bedroom of the apartment. They had talked about Jack, about Aaron’s life with Haley, about all of his guilt. He was carrying so much, and doing it all alone. There was a picture of Aaron and herself in the room, one of the photos they’d taken after their engagement. The room itself was just as she expected. The bed was made neatly, with a few clothes tossed on top of the dresser. Aside from a single glass of water on the nightstand, the room was clean.

“Whatcha doin?” Willow turned to see Jack standing in the door.

“Just looking. Ready for practice?” The boy nodded. He was wearing what looked like a practice jersey, bright orange with a soccer ball on the front and a number on the back. He was holding a soccer ball, and she gestured for him to toss it to her.

“Dad says no soccer in the house.”

“He can’t tell me not to,” Willow said with a grin, taking the ball and dribbling it past Jack into the hall. He came up around her and managed to get the ball from her, and he burst into laughter, running up the hall while moving the ball between his feet.

“Hey! What did I say about soccer in the house?” Aaron exclaimed, seeing them come up the hall.

“Sorry, my fault,” Willow said, suppressing a smile. He tried to look angry at her, but he couldn’t manage it, especially not with the huge grin on Jack’s face.

“Alright, no more though. Come on, we got to get out of here.”

“I just need to grab a jacket from my car,” Willow said as they got outside. She jogged off while Aaron got Jack and his bag situated in the car.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, what’s up buddy?”

“Are you going to marry Willow?” Aaron turned to look at his son, spotting Willow running back to them with the jacket in hand.

“If it’s alright with you Jack, I think I will.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x oc #hotshot #sniper!hotch #army hotch #criminal minds #notsopersonalcharlie #charliewrites

13 notes · View notes

thehiccupingbanana · 1 month

Text

Nobody

PAIRING: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon (The Metalist) GENRE: fluff WORD COUNT: 1,419 WARNINGS: none :) SUMMARY: Charlotte starts to notice her dad seems distracted and working late nights with 'nobody'. Annie and Grace notice Lisbon is distracted and working late nights with 'nobody'. or Inspired by the song Nobody by Silvia (but take out all the parts that are angsty in the song). ADDITIONAL TAGS: Alternate Universe - No Red John, alive!charlotte, in this universe angela just leaves them, CBI Days, charlotte is observant, Fluff, Inspired by: Nobody - Silvia (Song), but in a fluffy way not angsty like the song, this has been in my docs drafts for over a year, No Beta

[LYRICS TO SONG]

[READ ON AO3]

After Charlotte was dropped off at the school bus stop next to the CBI building, Jane decided that they would stop by the small bakery next door to get some treats before heading home for the weekend. After grabbing a couple of pastries, Jane and Charlotte sat at a booth in the corner of the shop, Jane facing the entrance.

“Dad.” Charlotte said, waving a hand in front of Jane’s face, trying to get his attention. “Daddy.”

Jane blinked hard before turning his head towards Charlotte, giving her all his attention. “Yes sweetie?”

“Who were you looking at like that?”

“Like what?” Jane questioned.

“You looked at someone like people look at each other before they kiss in TV shows.”

“What TV shows are you watching? I’m going to need to give you less freedom on the TV. What shows do they make for seven-year-olds these days?”

“Dad, please. I am seven and half.” Charlotte waved him off, matter-of-factly. “And I think it’s cute that you have a crush. Mom left us years ago; I won’t be upset.”

“You have always been too smart for your age, Charlotte.” Jane smiled, “But if you must know, I wasn’t looking at anyone. It was nobody.”

“Hey Charlotte!” Lisbon smiled coming up to the table Charlotte and Jane were sitting at.

“Ms. Lisbon!” Charlotte jumped up hugging Lisbon, with Charlotte barely tall enough to put her arms around Lisbon’s waist.

“What have you been up to?” Lisbon asked, when Charlotte pulled away.

“School.” Charlotte huffed, crossing her arms.

“Oh no, that’s not fun.” Lisbon joked.

“It’s boring, but Dad said I have to go to school or else he’ll go to jail.” Charlotte said, making Jane let out a chuckle.

“Well, we don’t want that, do we?” Lisbon said, looking at Jane.

“No, we don’t.” Jane responded, smiling at Lisbon.

“No, we don’t.” Lisbon echoed, maintaining eye contact with Jane before turning back to Charlotte and saying, “Charlotte, I have to head back to the office, but come by soon? My niece, Annabeth, is supposed to come to visit next week, she’s close to your age. Maybe we can do something, the three of us? No boys allowed though.”

“Yeah, no boys allowed.” Charlotte cheered.

“Sounds good!” Lisbon smiled at Charlotte. “I’ll see you later Charlotte, Jane, I’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there first thing Monday, after dropping Charlotte off at school.” Jane smiled at Lisbon.

“Ugh. School.” Charlotte huffed, but not without noticing the same look as before in both her dad’s and Lisbon’s face.

~🙅~

“Charlotte.” Jane whispered, kneeling down next to his couch in the bullpen, in which Charlotte decided to nap on. “Let’s go home.”

“Dad? What time is it?” Charlotte asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“It’s close to midnight.”

“You were working late again? Who with?”

“Nobody, darling.”

“Hmm. You have been working late with nobody a lot in the last couple of the weeks Dad.” Charlotte stated with a cocked eyebrow, now that she was more awake.

“You know that we are always busy, and there’s paperwork to do.”

“You don’t do paperwork dad.”

“I can do paperwork.”

“Goodnight Charlotte, night Jane.” Lisbon yelled over her shoulder walking towards the elevator.

“Hold the elevator, we’re coming!” Charlotte yelled back, grabbing her backpack and running after Lisbon. Jane released a small chuckle following after his daughter and Lisbon.

“Thank you.” Jane told Lisbon when stepping into the elevator.

“Of course.” Lisbon smiled back.

“Ms. Lisbon. Did my dad actually do any paperwork?” Charlotte asked, looking up to Lisbon.

“Why would your dad do paperwork?” Lisbon laughed.

“Hey! I can do paperwork.” Jane repeated, defeated this time.

“But you don’t.” Lisbon retorted.

“But I can.” Jane laughed lightly, nudging Lisbon, before the elevator dinged, notifying them that they were on the ground floor in the parking garage.

“Okay. I’ll leave you the paperwork for tomorrow then.” Lisbon joked as the three of them stepped out of the elevator.

“I didn’t say I wanted to do paper work.” Jane smiled, before lightly touching Lisbon’s arm. “I think I should get Charlotte home. Have a good night, Teresa.”

“Good night, Patrick. See you tomorrow?” Lisbon responded.

“Yes.” Jane smiled, looking at a smiling Lisbon longer than would be normal before departing and walking with him and Charlotte to his car.

“So, Dad. You were working late with “nobody”.” Charlotte asked once they were both in the car.

In response Jane looked at Charlotte in the rear view mirror and gave a small smile.

~🙅~

Before Annabeth was due to go back to Chicago, Annie wanted a day with Lisbon and Charlotte, and not being very girly, chose to go to a batting cage, afterwards they went to the park to eat lunch. Annie and Charlotte were talking while Lisbon was acting like she was listening to the two girls, but her mind was far away.

“Aunt T, what are you thinking about?” Annie asked Lisbon, noticing she wasn’t paying attention.

“Hmm? Nobody. Nothing. Not thinking about anything. Just enjoying the weather.” Lisbon gave a small smile.

“My dad does that too; says he’s thinking and talking about “nobody”. Must be an adult thing.” Charlotte whispered to Annie.

“She said that the other day too. She came home really late and my dad asked her where she was and she said at work. My dad asked her who with, and she said nobody.” Annie whispered back.

‘Hmm…’ Charlotte thought.

~🙅~

Jane smiled looking down at his phone as a text message came in.

“Dad, who’s texting you? Your smile is huge.” Charlotte asked.

“Nobody, it was just a spam text.”

“Why do you call Ms. Lisbon ‘Nobody’, Dad?” Charlotte questioned.

“What are you talking about?” Jane asked back, putting his phone in his pocket.

“Every time you and Ms. Lisbon talk, you both can’t stop smiling at each other. I may be seven and a half, but I know what it looks like when someone has a crush on someone else.” Charlotte started, “And you and Ms. Lisbon have a crush on each other.”

Jane just stared at Charlotte in response for a moment before saying in a volume barely above a whisper, “Sweetie, Ms. Lisbon doesn’t look at me a certain way and she doesn’t have a crush on me.”

“Dad, pl-ease.” Charlotte intoned. “You look at each other like you both want to hold each other’s hands and never let go.”

“Sweetie, even if I did - I’m not saying I do - have a crush on Ms. Lisbon, she would never want to date me. Women don’t want to date single fathers.” Jane sighed.

“That is the most ridiculous thing you have ever said, and you tried to tell me there was a large bunny that left eggs in the house when I was a kid.”

“One, you’re still a kid. And, two, even if she did like me, we can’t. The rules at work say we can’t date.”

“Since when do you follow the rules?” Charlotte cocked an eyebrow.

“Okay, you have been hanging out with Lisbon too much. You are acting like a mini-her.” Jane chuckled.

“Anyways, Ms. Lisbon and Ms. Grace were talking the other day when Annabeth and I were playing in Ms. Lisbon’s office. Something about how the rules were lifted and now Ms. Grace was thinking of asking Mr. Wayne out again.”

Jane’s eyebrows shot up before saying, “This is why I stopped bringing you by the office. You are not old enough to hear this stuff.”

“Dad, I know that adults like each other. Sometimes they get lunch together, and sometimes they get married and have kids.”

“Oh.” Jane mouthed.

~🙅~

“I’m going to go to that sandwich shop today for lunch, will you keep an eye on Charlotte?” Jane asked, guiding Charlotte to sit on his couch next to Grace’s desk.

“Yeah, can you bring me back a number 8? Who are you going with?” Grace answered.

“Oh, nobody, and yes, I’ll bring you a number 8. Thank you.” Jane responded, walking towards the elevator.

“You know who “Nobody” is right?” Charlotte asked Grace.

“Yep, and-” Grace started before being interrupted.

“Grace, I’m going to run down to the sandwich shop. Do you want anything from there?” Lisbon asked.

“No, I’m good. Thank you though.” Grace answered. “Who are you going with?”

“Nobody.” Lisbon smiled, before walking towards the elevator where Jane was still standing, “See you later!”

“They're not even trying to be subtle, are they?” Grace asked.

“Nope.” Charlotte agreed.

~~~

if i missed any cw/tw's please message me and let me know and i'll update it.

#i saw a poll a while ago that said that people still read fics on tumblr so #im gonna post a few today and tomorrow (to spread them out)#but i post to ao3 first #jibson #Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon

0 notes

burningdarkfire · 2 years

Note

Hiya!! For the writer ask meme: 9, 10, 13, 19, and 20, 22, and 25. :D

hello friend, you have made me rich in questions to answer 🥰 thank you!!

ask game for fanfic writers!

9. in an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? why or why not?

is it obvious to say i’d love to see a good adaption? my grasp on visual media has always been pretty weak so i would love to see people who are practiced at tv or movies work with my stories and transform them!

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

i come up with titles five minutes before i post on ao3. i don’t really care about them, even though i probably should? it’s usually just a quick scroll through my quotations tag on tumblr or i look up the lyrics to one of three songs i can think of at any given moment and try to find something with matching vibes

13. talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

my nier automata fic will always hold a soft spot in my heart - they were the first fics i wrote after all but vanishing from fandom for five years and it felt so good to write again. and despite being a small fandom and releasing the fics a year after the game came out, i got so many lovely comments and asks 💕

19. what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?

hemingway is an old touchstone from high school and i am still always thinking about omission when i write. the raven tower by ann leckie is a more recent book that i loved and wish i’d written!

20. what is your favorite trope to write?

does “this is five scenes dressed in a trenchcoat pretending to be a story” count as a trope, because that sure is my favourite way to write 😂 i find it satisfying and easy to fill out a fic around a frame like that - it’s definitely part of why i struggle to write anything longer and properly plotted!

22. describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

get an idea, brain dump as much of it as i can (often to someone else but it does always end up) into the ideas bin, and then i pick it up again when i want to commit. i tend to write beginning to end, and i’m a big believer in putting words on page even if they’re not good. i edit. then i fight my inner demons and hopefully post it on ao3 in the following couple of weeks

25. what’s your revision or rewriting process like?

i edit as i go because my first efforts on page are usually just word vomit. i write - edit what i wrote a few days ago - write - rinse and repeat. inevitably somewhere 60-80% of the way through a fic i start wondering wtf i’m doing, so at this point i stop and think and usually write a lot of notes, and when i’m satisfied with my thinking i write the rest of the fic

after a complete draft, i try to leave it untouched for a few days. then i come back with my notes and fully edit - cutting away unnecessary wordiness and adding all the clarifying or unifying details that bring a piece together. i think of this part as weaving/braiding together the through lines of the story, and it is one of my favourite parts of writing :) then i let it sit for a few more days, do one last read for typos, etc. and call it done!

#my posts #replies #writing blogging

1 note · View note

clairecrive · 3 years

Text

"Surprise" - Sirius Black x reader

A/n: nobody asked for this but I've found this draft sitting in my notes and so here's some Sirius hurt/comfort for you x

Warnings: mention of cheating, angst, fluffy ending

Word count: 2K

Tags: @ashlovesthemarauders, @blackst0nes7077, @jupiterandbutterflies, @acciorudolphx, @hannaxmaria, @seldomabsent, @emmaev, @aleksanderwh0r3, @hazelrose14 ( you can add yourself to my taglist by filling this form)

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

From: Sirius✨

"Marlene, we have an hour and a half before she comes home."

Was the message that had completely shattered y/n's schedule for the day.

Time is a relative matter but y/n could swear that she spent at least ten minutes staring at her screen.

What in the name of Merlin?!

Her mind was reeling, spinning with the potential meaning of his message. Her sweet boyfriend.

Was Sirius really cheating on her?

She had not seen the signs, but then again, most of the people who find themselves in this situation missed them.

But y/n really couldn't figure out how he had been able to pull this off. They were always together. Not yet living in the same apartment but always spending the nights together. Sometimes at her place, others at Sirius'.

Of course, they both had to work. Emphasis on both.

And she knew that Sirius actually went because he'd always tell her about what happened either because it was funny or because he needed to vent.

So, again, was he actually cheating on her?

When? For how long?

It wasn't that y/n was in denial. She truly couldn't see it happening. Besides, Sirius could pretty much spend his days hopping from a stranger's bed to another's but he chose not to.

He chose to be in a relationship with her. He pursued her, for months, for Merlin's sake. He had really put himself to the task so throwing it all away like this seemed stupid. Even for him.

However, the more she thought about it, the more torn she was.

Because she was aware of Marlene's flirty nature. Hell, y/n had been her wing woman during their Hogwarts days.

She'd had always told herself that it was just the way Marlene was, that it meant nothing and she meant no harm.

Marlene could have chosen Sirius, y/n suspected that something had happened between them when they were younger, but she didn't want him- she would tell herself whenever she'd have doubts.

So why was she standing there, staring at her phone and actually considering the idea of her boyfriend and one of her closest friends cheating on her?

No, she finally decided, they wouldn't do that to me. Neither of them would.

Putting an end to her paranoid thoughts, she texted him back and went about her day as the schedule demanded.

To: Sirius✨

"Wrong number."

Back home, Sirius' phone lighted up showing that he had just received a message. Since he was waiting for Marlene to arrive, and she was late, he was anxiously checking his phone to see if there had been some emergency or problem that had made her late.

He was not expecting a message from y/n since she had just left. So his eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he read her name and the body of the text only to be filled with dread when he opened your conversation.

Fuck.

He immediately tried to call her but it went straight to voicemail. "Oh no, no," he started mumbling over and over again while pacing up and down in his living room. That's how Marlene and Remus found him when they let themselves in a couple of minutes after.

"Pads?"

"Has he finally gone mad?"

"She's going to be so mad," up. "She's going to think I'm cheating on her," he turned around. "She's going to leave me," he suddenly stopped. Head snapping up to meet his friends' eyes, "Merlin's balls, she's going to leave me."

"Slow down, Pads and tell us what happened." The only other time Remus had seen his friend in such distress was so many years ago after the incident with Snape at the Whomping Willow. So this did not look good.

Instead of answering though, Sirius tossed his phone at him. His conversation with y/n still open, his last sent message the incriminating evidence.

"Weren't you one of the top students of our year? Leave it to you to word this like a booty call." Marlene snickered, reading the message over Remus' shoulder. Or well, reading the message because Remus had angled the phone so that she could read it. The man was tall as a tree it was impossible to look over his shoulder.

"I'm sure she's not going to jump to conclusions," sending a mean glance at Marlene, he tried to reassure his friend that had resumed pacing.

"Not jump to conclusions? Are we talking about the same person, Moony?"

"He kinda has a point though. Remember in fourth year? She was sure she had gotten most of the answers wrong and had already planned her life as a drifter." Came the ever unhelpful contribution of Marlene. To which Sirius reacted with an exasperated sigh.

"Look, stop pacing alright? We still need to get everything done for the surprise," Remus started stopping Sirius by gripping his shoulders and forcing him to face him, "stop panicking and focus on what you need to do." They only had an hour now since they had been late and more time had been wasted because of his dramatic ass.

"Then, how about I go pick her up from work so that I can test the waters?" Remus added when he saw that his previous words had fallen on deaf ears.

At this, Sirius relaxed a bit. He was aware of y/n's close bond with Remus and that when she was hurt y/n tended to avoid everyone and lick her wounds on the sidelines. This way, at least he got to talk to her about it since he was sure that Remus would be able to convince her to at least hear him out if she didn't want to at first.

And so that's what he did. He listened to Remus' advice and together with Marlene, he started setting up the decorations in the living room while Remus baked y/n's favourite sweets in the kitchen.

She had pitched her novel idea with a small draft to her agent and it had gotten approved. Y/n was so enthusiastic about it and so was Sirius. She had talked so much about this new idea of hers that Sirius felt like it was his book too. At least a little bit. He certainly was as excited about it as y/n was and also very very proud of his talented girlfriend.

Hence the surprise party he had decided to throw her.

As promised, when there was only half an hour 'till the end of her meeting with her agent, Remus set off. And was surprised to be met with y/n's imperturbable face. She was surprised to see him, sure, but other than that, her face betrayed nothing.

Y/n and Remus chatted about the meeting moving to more general topics, him insisting on asking whether she was okay or not 'cause "she looked off", or so he said.

"Rem, do you know something?" stopping a couple of steps from Sirius' apartment, y/n turned around to face him. His insistent questions could only mean that he had talked to her boyfriend and knew what happened. Which led y/n to two possible conclusions: one, Sirius was indeed cheating on her and Remus was here as her support; two, Sirius was panicking for whatever reason and had sent Remus to smother the effect of her reaction. Either way, Remus knew.

"Well, I know a lot of things." He joked but after the unamused look she gave him, he conceded, "Okay, yes. I know. I wanted to see how you were."

"What can I say, the prospect of my boyfriend cheating on me is not something I wanted to experience."

"Prospect?"

"I'm not even going to lie and say that my mind didn't immediately go there," she admitted unknowingly proving Sirius' point, "but, I refuse to jump to conclusions before having spoken to him. He's been nothing but loyal to me, I owe him that."

At her words, Remus only nodded, inwardly reassured but he only gestured to the street behind her prompting her to keep walking. It looked like he was right, as usual.

They walked the rest of the distance in silence, her head hung low focused on her feet, mind lost. It was Remus' voice that brought her back.

"We're here."

It seemed that y/n wasn't the only one brought back by his voice. Sat on the stairs outside of his apartment, Sirius' head snapped up at the familiar sound. Seeing them approaching, he stood up and anxiously looked at Remus for any hint.

The werewolf tried to give him his most reassuring look before walking inside without a word. Swallowing, his throat suddenly parched, he finally turned to look at y/n. She stood her, her face void of any anger or pain which, Sirius thought, was good. Or she was a very talented actress. But he knew her too well and knew that that wasn't the case.

"So?" he broke the silence referring to the much-anticipated meeting.

"She loved the idea, said that the draft I sent her was good and gave me the green light to write more," Y/n explained, a small smile involuntarily forming on her lips. For a second, Sirius forgot his message, the pickle in which he stood. He could only feel immense pride and joy for his girlfriend.

"Baby, that's amazing," he beamed at her and gathered her in his arms without giving it much thought. The act was so common between her that for a moment he acted on instincts alone.

Y/n stiffened only for a moment in his arms before returning the embrace. Then the moment passed and he remembered why he stood outside his building waiting for her in the first place. Still with his arms around her, Sirius pulled away until he could look at her face.

"I'm proud of you and I love you, ma chère, so very much." It was true, these were words he spoke almost as often as her name, but it was also a way to implicitly tell her that she was the one for him.

"I love you too, mon étoile," y/n's tone was as soft as his. She took his words in, understood the underlying message. Her eyes flickered between his, brown met grey as she looked for his truth. For a lie, eventually.

But there was none. She knew there wouldn't be. Sirius wore his heart on his sleeve, his emotions clear in his eyes. Yes, he was a Marauder and king of mischief but a liar was something Sirius Black was not.

Of that, she was certain. And, not surprisingly, she was reworded by a confirmation of such.

"Do you trust me?" Sirius asked, his hands squeezing her wait where they rested.

"With my life." Was her response and Sirius knew that her words were sincere.

So, without adding anything more, he led her inside. Revelled in her expression once the light went up and everyone appeared from behind the furniture screaming "surprise".

It wasn't just pride at knowing that she liked everything he had done, the joy she showed at the sight of her favourite people and food. Most of all, it was the relief and understanding that washed over her once the sight in front of her finally sank in. He knew when that happened because she turned around to punch him in the arm.

"Definitely deserve that," he grimaced at the pain but offered a small smile anyway. Gathering her close to him, his remaining anxiety was washed away by her laugh. The sweetest sound of all.

"You do, you ass," she scoffed but let him hold her close to him, "leave it to you to make a surprise party sound like a booty call."

"Well, dearest, you should know by now that the only booty I'd ever call is yours," he joked and was rewarded again with her laugh.

"You're lucky I love you," y/n said poking his nose before kissing him.

"Don't I know it, mon amour," he whispered on her lips, basking in the intimate moment before their friends called for them to join the party.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black one shot #sirius black angst #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black imagines #sirius black ff #sirius black fic #marauders #post hogwarts #the marauders x reader #the marauders imagine #the marauders imagines #the marauders angst #the marauders fluff #harry potter imagines

427 notes · View notes

chasingpj · 3 years

Text

𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

“Buen provecho, mijo.”

pairing: leo valdez x gn reader

requested?: yes!

warnings: a little angsty, discussing the death of a parent

category: fluff, one-shot, a slice of life

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts forever. i'm so excited to finally have it posted and i hope you guys like it!

Leo’s shivering body is engulfed in a soft duvet until the crown of his head. His brown curls sprawled on the stark white cloth are the only evidence of his presence, the sheets swallowing his body so well that it appears to be stacked messily and not holding a groggy Leo.

Despite your protests of wrapping himself up like this, he couldn’t help it. The chills that came with his fever were too much to ignore, which says a lot; Leo’s rarely cold. You’d be able to keep him warm, he considers, and there’s a deep urge to hold your frame against him. With a weak groan, he shifts in the tunnel of sheets.

Stupid Flu.

The last thing he’d want is to get you sick. Having your shared bed all to himself for the past few days as he persists through the discomfort of illness has been lonely. At first, it was a little fun. Getting a break from your occasional kicks and shifts that would wake him up throughout the night was nice, but he began to miss it after a while. Those pesky sleepy habits were worth it as they came with the comfort of your presence, the sweet scent of your body, and the softness of your skin. He ached at the absence of your company even though you were literally in the next room over.

He wondered what you could be doing having that this ache for you isn’t a new occurrence. Just a few minutes ago, he had called your name only to receive a “one second!”

So he waited, and well, it’s been much longer than a second.

As if he summoned you with his thoughts, the creaking of the door hinges catches his attention, drawing a soft hum from Leo’s lips. Feeling too weak to lift his head, he instead tugs down the duvet just enough to reveal his puppy brown eyes that sag with fatigue. “Lee, I have a surprise for you.” The ringing sound of your sweet voice makes his mouth curl up in a smile. Leo furrows his eyebrows, eyes averting from your pretty face as he notices your hands are hiding behind your back. “What is it, cariño?” He croaks, flinching at the dull soreness in his muscles as he pulls himself up to rest against the headboard.

“Close your eyes,” you demand with a giddy tone, and Leo complies with a short laugh. “Don’t peek!” A clinging of metal follows the sounds of pattering footsteps and a giggle of excitement before he receives the okay to open his eyes again.

Through thick eyelashes, he's met with stretched-out arms, presenting a deep blue bowl of soup on your palms. “It’s Caldo de Pollo!” The nostalgic aroma hits his senses the moment you confess what it is. He leans in, getting a better view of chunks of potato, carrots, corn, and chicken that peek through an orange broth. The sight makes his mouth water, and to your surprise, his eyes too.

The dish reminded him so much of his mother. Suddenly, he was a kid again. His small eyes watch Esperanza place a bowl filled to the rim of the familiar dish on the table in front of him.

“Buen provecho, mijo.”

Leo grinned, revealing the gaps of teeth that haven’t grown in yet. "Gracias Mama," he chimed, swinging his stubby legs in his chair. For a second, there is a look of caution across his mother’s face as Leo picks up his spoon and shovels the soup into his mouth. But as it becomes clear that neither the hot liquid nor the sweltering heat of the day bothered him, she relaxes and settles in the chair across from him.

His mother’s eyes filled with adoration, a soft giggle comes from her lips as Leo, too hungry to care, has dampened his shirt in the midst of eating. In his memory, the image of her is hazy, but he can make out the rosy tint on her lips as she smiles at him, her long nose, her silky hair that's usually pulled up in a ponytail, cascading over her shoulders.

The memory is more vivid than any of his dreams. He could make out the glow of the setting sun from the curtains. Under his forearms, he could feel the stickiness of the plastic cover over the table cloth. Every detail of his childhood home was exactly where he remembered it.

One of Leo’s biggest fears is that one day he’d forget his mother’s face, her voice, the little memories he had of her. Already, day by day, the recalling of his mother’s comforting scent becomes weaker. Sometimes, he’d get a whiff of it when he’s on a quest or when he’s alone. He’d like to think that those moments meant that his mother was watching over him, that she truly wasn’t all gone.

Though this soup, the one you’ve presented in your arms, confirmed that the remaining pieces of her existence didn’t solely live in his memory but in everything. She lives in the stars that she was always so fond of. She lives in the Tejano music she used to sing along to when she worked or cleaned. She lived in the running engine of everything he’d ever created. She lives in this soup, the same soup she made him when he was sick or often, to his dismay, in the middle of the summer.

He never needed a moment to freeze in time to remember all that was his mother.

Leo’s eyes glisten with tears. The silence, the bleakness of his expression, made you look down at the soup yourself. You didn’t think your soup looked bad at all, especially not bad enough to bring Leo near tears. You even plated it nicely, garnishing the soup with cilantro and a lime wedge.

"Is it wrong? Bad? I had to look up the recipe, and I-"

"No, no. It's just- it reminds me of my mom." He smiles sadly at you, and you frown, taking a seat beside him on the bed. His expression softens, eyes studying your face. What did he do to get so lucky? "You made this for me?"

You nod. "I thought I should make you soup since you're feeling so sick today." You balance the bottom of the bowl in one hand as the other reaches over, pressing the backside against his forehead. A tsk leaves your lips; the heat radiating off of Leo's forehead was much warmer than usual. "I was looking at soup recipes, and I came across a recipe for Caldo de Pollo. Try it; I think you'll like it!"

Leo reaches over with weak hands, grasping the bowl of soup before bringing it to his chest. He leans in to take in the aromas.

“I didn’t poison it,” you joke. A watery laugh comes from Leo, the vibrations sending a few tears down his cheeks. Your stomach flutters at the sound, but your heart aches at the sight of his tears. You hated seeing him cry. Your thumbs gently wipe away the stray tears on his face as he admires you. “I don’t know. I’ve seen you burn a lot of things in the past couple of years,” he teases. You cross your arms over your chest, not having enough times when you didn’t burn any food to defend yourself so you wave him off.

“Whatever,” you huff playfully. Leo chuckles as he brings the spoon full of broth up to his lips, and you shift in your place. You’re filled with anticipation, hoping that the recipe was authentic enough. “How is it?”

The flavors of the soup are almost the same as his mother’s, and he hums, a soft sigh of satisfaction leaves his lips.

“It’s amazing, mi amor.” The pet name you love rolls off his tongue slow and smooth. You sit up proudly at the praise, taking in Leo’s lovestruck expression. Before you know it, the other leans in for a kiss, and you scrunch your face. A scoff of playful offense leaves Leo’s lips.

“Why would you kiss me?” Leo whines with a cute pout. As much as you want to kiss him, you knew you shouldn't. “You’re sick,” you remind him, and he dramatically sits back against the wall, playing with his spoon.

“Kiss me, and then we can be sick together.” Leo wiggles his eyebrows, trying to convince you with a smile that drops the moment you shake your head.

“No way. Keep your cooties to yourself.” To your surprise, Leo sticks his tongue out at you. The action makes you snort as you rise from the bed. “I won’t kiss you, but I’ll sit and eat with you.” Leo shrugs, the solution is not as satisfying as a kiss, but he’ll settle with spending time with you. With a nod from him, he watches as you disappear past the doorway to get your bowl of soup.

In your absence, he takes a few more sips, the memory of his mother flickering in his mind. There’s a familiar gloominess that lingers at the fact that he will never be able to hug his mom or see her face again but being aware that her presence will always remain brings a sense of closure that Leo didn’t know he needed.

In his darkest hours, there was always a glimmer of hope that kept him moving forward. There was always a feeling that things would get better in time. This dull light, the voice that told him to pick himself back up, perhaps, it was his mother being true to her namesake all along.

masterlists taglist: @nct127bee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @cartocns @slytherclaw-kitten @s0urcru5h @percysbluehairbrush @hermioneswifeee @quteez @drayshadow @ashookykooky @anything-forourmoony @loverstyless @yelenabel0vaswife @ohmydamgods @jordannfields @amy-writes-blog @muted-mayham @dreamerball @earthtokace @thehighladyofday @lala-llama123 @tootsdoll @slytherindaughterofposeidon0 @black-rose-29 @somekidnamedkai @possiblylostchasecousin @hamdehlesmis @cami05sworld @does-anyone-hear-me @sol-the-salmon @atryx0-tal @iamparou @afidiofobia @lacunaanonymoused @pest-ill-ence @mika-sage

if your username is bolded that means i can’t tag you ! you probably have your visibility settings on!

to be added to my taglist click the heart: ♡

#leo x reader #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez one shot #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x you #leo valdez fanfiction #my writing

202 notes · View notes

triptuckers · 3 years

Text

Two Homes (part 1/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: nope! Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary: you live in Ketterdam, and your life is alright. things get excited however, when you receive royal mail Warnings: none Word count: 2K A/N: first time doing a (mini) series and I am ✨ nervous ✨ but this idea has been sitting in my drafts for too long and I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m planning on writing seven parts :) enjoy reading! PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST: @godsofwriting @im-constantly-fangirling add yourself to my tag lists here

You would always be torn between leaving Ketterdam, and staying in the city. You have a good life, it’s comfortable. Given that your father is one of the wealthiest merchants of the city, you could basically get anything you wanted. You had more money than you could possibly spend in one lifetime.

But still, you weren’t happy. Your father may have a lot of kruge, he certainly didn’t have a heart of gold. All your life you’ve known him as a greedy, rude and unfair man. You’d give up all of your kruge in a blink of an eye if you could trade it for a different life.

Your friends didn’t understand. They told you to be grateful. That many would kill to live in a mansion like you do, and to have the amounts of money your family has. But you had learned wealth doesn’t always mean happiness.

For years, you watched as your father treated people like garbage, simply because they didn’t have enough money in his eyes. He’d blackmail people, or worse. You couldn’t stand it.

Which is why you decided to join the Dregs a couple of years ago. In secret, of course. Your father doesn’t know. You took every precaution necessary to prevent him from finding out. You’d rather not find out all the things he’d be capable of.

With the help of the Crows, you’d been stealing small bits of your father’s fortune. You either give it to the Dregs or transfer it to your own personal bank account, one your father didn’t have access to.

To keep your identity a secret, only a few Dregs know your true identity. You use a fake name and whenever you’re at the Crow Club or the Slat, you wear your hood pulled down as low as possible, hiding your face from curious eyes. All precautions because you know all too well what gang members would do with a rich merchant’s daughter.

You like hanging out at the Crow Club. Mostly because the Crows don’t treat you like a merchant’s daughter. They treat you like, well, Y/N. To them, you’re one of their own. And you’re glad they’re your friends.

The Crow Club is also a place where you can relax. At home, you’re always on your toes, keeping a close eye on your father. He had the annoying habit of marching into your room unannounced. When you told him you wanted a lock on your door, he merely laughed it away.

So, yes, you’d prefer the Crow Club full of thieves, gamblers and other criminals to the mansion you live in.

Of course, your father doesn’t know you spend most of your time at the Club. You take longer walks, you make sure you’re not followed, and conceal your face whenever you make your way to the Barrel.

Once inside the Club, you walk to your usual table, and there’d always be someone around to join you.

Right now, you’re sitting at the table with Nina and Jesper. Enjoying a drink and a game of cards. You’re happy to be amongst your friends, laughing at their jokes and beating them at cards.

You look up when you see a familiar redhead approach your table.

‘Hi Wylan!’ you say as you enthusiastically wave at him. Wylan smiles at you as he sits down next to Jesper. Jesper raises his hand at the bartender to order another round of drinks as Wylan shrugs off his coat.

‘I’ve got something for you.’ says Wylan, while looking at you.

You raise your eyebrows in question as you finish your drink. ‘Watch out, Jesper, I might steal your boyfriend.’ you chuckle.

‘Oh, no, you won’t.’ says Jesper, reaching out and pulling Wylan's chair closer to his own, making Wylan blush.

‘He’s going to ask me out on a date, I can see it on his face.’ you say, failing to keep a straight face.

‘What? No!’ says Wylan, looking from you to Jesper. ‘No, I’m not asking you out on a date, I’ve got a letter for you.’

You frown. ‘You’ve got a letter for me?’ you say. ‘Why wasn’t it just delivered to my house?’

‘I don’t know.’ says Wylan. ‘Someone stopped me in the street and told met to give it to you. They said it was urgent.’

‘How did they know you knew where to find me?’ you ask him as you take your new drink the bartender passes you.

Wylan shrugs. ‘I don’t know. She had a pretty heavy Ravkan accent, though. I tried to read the address to confirm it was yours, but I couldn't.’ he says. You notice a slight blush on his cheeks, but ignore it.

‘Is the letter from Ravka as well?’ you say.

‘I think so.’ says Wylan, finally pulling the letter out of his coat pocket. ‘I mean, it’s got a pretty distinctive seal on the back of it.’

Before you can ask him anything else, Jesper snatches the letter out of Wylan’s hand, looking at it.

‘Why would a Ravkan send you a letter?’ he chuckles, flipping the envelope around in his hands. When his eyes fall on the seal, they widen. ‘Correction.’ says Jesper, while looking at you. ‘Why would a Lantsov send you a letter?’

Now your eyes widen as well. ‘What?’ you say. ‘That has to be some kind of joke.’

You lean over the table and take the envelope out of Jesper’s hands. You take another sip of your drink as you look at the seal on the back of it. Indeed, the Lantsov double eagle is on it.

‘Nina.’ you say, turning to her next to you and handing her the envelope so she can look at it as well. ‘Do you have any idea as to why your king would send me a letter?’

Nina looks at the seal as well, running a finger over it. ‘I don’t know.’ she says. ‘But this looks like a legitimate seal, though. It’s on the ones I get as well. I don’t get a lot of them, but I do recognise that seal. This isn’t a fake.’

She hands it back to you and your flip it over in your hand. When you look up, you see all three of your friends looking at you.

‘Why would he send me a letter, though?’ you wonder out loud. ‘And how does he even know I exist? Or where to find me?’

‘Well, after all, you are a merchant’s daughter.’ says Jesper.

‘Shh!’ you quickly say. ‘We’re still in the Crow Club, Jes!’

Jesper quickly apologises, looking around to see if anyone heard him. But the people around you are too caught up in their own drinks and games to have heard anything you were saying.

‘But why would the king of Ravka keep track of Kerch merchants? He only approaches the merchant council for loans. And if he needs to contact them, he sends letters directly to the members of the council.’ you say.

‘Well, you won’t know until you open it.’ says Nina. ‘Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t even know you.’

‘You’ve got a point.’ you say. ‘And I can’t deny I'm curious.’

Slowly, you open the envelope, pulling out a short letter. You’re well aware of all of their eyes on you as you read the message.

“Dear miss Y/F/N Y/L/N,

My name is Nikolai Lantsov (as you probably would have guessed upon seeing the wax seal on the envelope), I’ll spare the ink and not name all of my titles. Though my triumvirate would like me to.

I am writing you to tell you I am hosting a ball, one week from now, at the Grand Palace in Os Alta, Ravka. You are hereby invited to attend said ball, at the end of which I will choose a bride.

I await your response, and I promise there will be good wine.

Yours sincerely,

King Nikolai Lantsov, of Ravka”

You read the letter over and over again, trying to get the words to sink in. Nikolai Lantsov himself wrote you an invitation. To a ball at the Grand Palace. And he’d choose a bride. Someone to be his queen.

You snort and throw the letter on the table.

‘Well, that was interesting to read.’ you say.

Jesper moves to pick up the letter, but Nina is faster. Wylan and Jesper lean in closer, and she softly reads the letter out loud. You see looks of surprise and confusion on their faces as Nina reads the letter.

When she’s done, they all look at you in confusion. You chuckle and take the letter from Nina’s hands, folding it and tucking it in your pocket.

‘Do you think I could sell this to the highest bidder?’ you say. ‘It’s got an authentic Lantsov signature on it.’

‘Why on earth would you do that?’ says Jesper.

You look at him. ‘You don’t seriously think I’ll go?’ you say.

‘Duh!’ says Jesper. ‘Why not? Y/N, this is a king. And he’s inviting you to a ball. You could become queen!’

‘I have no intention of becoming queen.’ you say, finishing your drink. ‘Besides, I don’t want to leave Ketterdam.’

‘I bet Os Alta is a whole lot nicer than Ketterdam, though.’ says Wylan.

‘And have a servant do every little thing for me? Eat the finest food all day every month? Go to balls and war meetings? No thank you.’ you say.

‘Why do you talk about it as if it’s a bad thing?’ says Wylan.

‘Because I told you, I have no intention of going to a ball and becoming queen. If you’re asking me, I think writing that letter was a waste of ink and paper.’ you tell them. ‘Besides, if he’s smart, he’s going to marry a Fjerdan or Shu princess to establish an alliance. Even if I wanted to go, there’s no way he’d pick an ordinary Kerch merchant’s daughter to be his queen.’

‘A word of advice?’ says Nina.

You look at her and motion for her to keep on talking.

‘I’ve met Nikolai several times. He’s a good man. Would it really be that bad to even attend? You’re not agreeing to marrying him, you’re just going to a ball. Why not give him a chance?’ she says.

‘Because I think balls are a waste of time. And money. And simply because I don’t want to play dress up and act like a perfect daughter.’ you say, getting up and putting on your coat.

‘At least think about it?’ says Nina.

‘For your sake, I will.’ you say. ‘I’ll even pretend like I haven’t made my decision yet.’

‘It’ll be great for your reputation!’ says Jesper as you move through the crowd toward the door.

‘I’m not going to Os Alta!’ you yell at him over your shoulder. When you’re at the door, you wave goodbye at them and head outside. It’s a particular cold night, and you wrap your coat tighter around you and pull your hood further down.

Somehow the invitation feels like lead as it sits in your pocket. So Nikolai Lantsov himself invited you to the Grand Palace. Though you’re flattered, you’ve already made up your mind.

You’re not going to Os Alta. After all, what could be waiting for you there that you couldn’t find in Ketterdam? You’ve got very good friends here, plenty of kruge, and you live in a mansion.

Surely Os Alta couldn’t offer you more than that?

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#is this what the invitations said??? I have no idea #do I care? no. am I gonna get the book to see if there is a written invitation in there? also no I'm gonna freestyle it #I'm so excited to write this !!!#nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov fanfics #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fics #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfics #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fics #two homes series

124 notes · View notes

wrightaboutthat · 3 years

Text

Proposing a Duel ~A Narumitsu One-Shot~

Summary: Finally, after years of pining, years of waiting, is Phoenix prepared to propose to the love of his life. But with someone he parallels so intensely, nothing can ever be straightforward.

Tags: Marriage Proposal, Idiots in Love, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Arguing, Childhood Memories, they're so dumb, and bickering 5ever, but they're so incredibly in love your honor, and deserve intense happiness like this, also this is probably set in the aa5-6 timeline somewhere but Who's Counting

Additional Notes: Hello everyone! Finally managed to tackle and finish one of my 20+ Narumitsu drafts lol. I recognize that this is quite the common trope/plot with these two, but I'm of course shooting for a "yay, two cakes" situation! We simply cannot have enough proposal fics, and these two deserve all the happiness/sweetness in the world quite honestly. They're tired- let them REST.

Anyway, super excited to share this with you all, and I hope you enjoy!

You can also read the work on AO3 here [x]

It felt different. He felt different. There was a certain and light sweetness that seemed to be lingering in the air. There was a tender warmth that seemed to be burning between two forms. There was a magnetic tug that seemed to be pulling harder than usual.

Perhaps it was finally pulling towards the inevitable.

Phoenix’s breath caught in his throat at the very consideration. It had been so long after all. The entirety of his life had slowly led up to such a thing. But even still, he doubted his readiness, doubted his ability to proceed.

Though, looking at the man beside him easily dampened such doubts. Fear melted away into giddy nervousness, and worry softened into warm tingles.

Because it was Miles.

Miles.

A man who had evaded him for years. A man who had changed him for the better. A man who had beautifully fought for betterment all for his sake. A man who he’d do anything for.

A man he wanted to marry.

The direct utterance within his mind manifested a flushed smile, his head going woozy with adoration. Inevitable indeed; it felt so right to consider, so...perfect. He of course hoped his proposal would follow suit, that it would declare such deep admiration to the receiver. He wanted it to be just as wonderful as the very man-

“What is it?”

The murmured baritone snapped Phoenix from his honeyed thoughts, startling as he returned to the present.

“Huh?”

Though Miles’ stare remained trained ahead, Phoenix could still pick up on the tenderness that washed over his facial expression.

“You were staring quite intently, darling.”

The term of endearment, the tonality of his boyfriend’s voice, and the ginger facial expression did nothing to help his blush. The defense attorney’s cheeks were fiery, though his growing smile aided in the distribution of heat.

“Is that anything new? I always struggle to take my eyes off you.”

He watched with amusement as color struck Miles’ face to match, his expression crinkling into something of embarrassment.

“Nngh...” he quietly groaned, earning a chuckle from Phoenix before he continued, “Well, at least I’m the one driving then.”

“Thank God for that.”

They ventured back into comfortable silence, but affections were still reciprocated. Miles slipped a hand off the steering wheel and laid it palm-up on the console, an invitation that Phoenix immediately took. He gave his boyfriend’s hand a soft squeeze, contentedly sighing as his thoughts began to wander once more.

Hand holding wouldn’t feel the same for very long after all. There would be an even deeper connection with it, a deeper unity. Soft skin and sturdy fingers would be bordered with precious metal, a glistening reminder of their utmost promise to each other...

“Phoenix.”

The tanner man jerked back to the present once again, though not as harshly as before.

“Yeah?”

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.”

“Are you saying I’m normally loud, baby?”

The slight rise of his boyfriend’s brow was enough to draw forth a laugh, the deeper implications plenty visible in such a mere gesture.

“More talkative than I, yes,” Miles huffed, though he quickly ventured back towards a more solemn air. “Is something on your mind?”

“Ahh...no.” A lie. And it was very dangerous to offer a lie to the man who sought nothing but the truth in every regard. So Phoenix very quickly covered with a genuine statement, a true explanation indeed. “I just...get lost in how much I love you sometimes.”

Heterochromatic eyes had averted with such a statement, and his other hand had taken purchase upon his neck. The silence that followed however, drew his gaze back towards his partner. But, following the pattern of comfort, any and all apprehension was doused by the prosecutor; the intense blush and bashful furrow on his counterpart’s face triggered giggles.

“Darling...” Miles muttered in disdain.

“It’s true!”

Silver eyes briefly flitted sideways, before the opposing man heaved a large sigh. Years ago, such a statement would likely earn some manner of reluctance or coldness. In the present though, and to Phoenix’s delight, it slowly drew forth a gentle smile once more.

“If I wasn’t speeding down a highway, I would perhaps have to kiss you,” Miles eventually murmured.

“Just perhaps?” Phoenix laughed.

“Mm...”

The prosecutor readjusted their conjoined hands, and better gripped Phoenix’s, gently bringing it to his awaiting mouth.

“Assuredly,” he said, sealing the word with a tender kiss.

It was the defense’s turn to be bashful, flushing and giggling and crumpling in on himself. It was without fail; close to proposing, and yet rendered so useless by his beloved. He doubted that would change, even well into their marriage. It hadn’t for years and years after all.

When Miles lowered their hands back to the console, Phoenix heaved a breath, easing into conversation before thoughts hoisted him away again.

“Where are we going anyway?”

There was an odd pause, coupled with what sounded like a shaky inhalation. The prosecutor did indeed answer, but through vagueness only.

“You’ll see.”

“Are we close? Because I perhaps have to kiss you too.” Just as Miles has done, he brought their hands upward, gripping the prosecutor’s just so and returning the gesture with warm lips. “Hands don’t really cut it.”

“Yes, dear. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Phoenix grinned, and pressed a plethora of short kisses to the other man’s hand- so much so that he earned a soft whap of disdain to the face. He broke into giggles then and freed the prosecutor from his onslaught, simply opting to sit and wait for their arrival, albeit anxiously. He hoped it was a proper location. He hoped it was someplace fitting. He hoped it would be a date worth turning into something more. He wasn’t sure if he could stand the idea of having to push things back any longer; the ring had already been in his possession for one day too many.

The car finally slowing down brought him from his thoughts, and he blinked as he attempted to process where they were. It didn’t seem to be a fancy restaurant or anything typical of Miles; in fact, it seemed like they were just in some random part of the city. And yet, there seemed to exist an odd sort of...familiarity to it all, a sense of dejavu gnawing on his mind.

Regardless of the swirling thoughts, he snapped to action the moment they stopped. The second Miles parked the car, he was leaning across the center console, following through with his previous statements and tugging them both into a proper kiss. The pair sighed and melted against each other’s mouths, sucking and gliding and caressing.

When Phoenix attempted to slide his tongue betwixt his partner’s lips however, did the prosecutor lean back and break their connection.

“Not so fast, Wright,” he tutted, though his brow was playfully cocked, “Can’t have you sullying this date.”

“Me? You’re the one who’s irresistibly gorgeous.”

Miles rolled his eyes, causing the tanner man to chuckle, before he poised himself to depart the vehicle.

“I rest my case.”

Phoenix continued with his mirth, but had no further objections; no, he didn’t need to sully their date at all. There would be plenty of time for intimacy, but only one chance to present such a momentous inquiry. So he exited after his boyfriend, and walked around the car to be by his side.

Gazes were soft once more upon meeting, and the prosecutor offered a hand for Phoenix to take. He did so happily, and allowed his partner to lead. In doing so however, perplexity joined the mix, his wavy brows furrowing as he continued to try and place...where exactly they were. It wasn’t exactly a park, or a restaurant, or any discernible destination at all. It merely seemed like Miles was leading him down a sidewalk- and was his hand...trembling?

His face scrunched with further confusion, the two of them continuing to wind through buildings. Soon however, buildings opened up to a very particular scene. Rounding a corner stopped him dead in his tracks. Gazing upon the openness before him smacked his brain with a plethora of memories. He saw many a picture, heard swaths of innocent laughter, and felt rushes of old warmth...

“Remember this spot?”

Miles’ murmur managed to reach him, but his composure still swayed. Tears almost pricked his heterochromatic eyes, his nose tickling with the threat of their manifestation. Because yes, he absolutely did. The small canal, the grassy hill, the surrounding quaint homes, the sunset...

It was a scene from their youth. It was a place they had frequented together as grade schoolers. It was a place where dreams had been discussed, and bonds had been formed.

And God, was it perfect for taking said bonds even further.

Phoenix had to keep a hand over his mouth for a few beats, attempting to keep his composure at bay. Breaking down in front of Miles wouldn’t be anything new necessarily, but it would produce suspicion.

Thankfully, the prosecutor didn’t seem to notice- at least, not yet. For he simply snickered and tugged, softly beckoning with their conjoined hands.

“I take that as a yes. Come on then.”

He led them both down the old path, strolling in the golden light of the setting sun. Phoenix could almost see flashes of their grade school selves as they happened along, laughing and shoving and playing. And, through the sparkles in his vision, could he also picture the glistens of precious metal, of gemstones shining with promise and love.

He had to bite his cheek to keep himself in check. When would be the proper time to ask anyway? It felt so close, but so very far. It felt so perfect, but so out of reach. Maybe it would just come to him. Maybe the stars would align. And if Miles’ hand was still oddly trembling, he could no longer tell; his was too.

The prosecutor slowing down pulled him from his running thoughts, but made the situation all the more real. He allowed Miles to lead him into the grass, onto one of the slopes neighboring the sidewalk. Mismatched eyes rapidly blinked to shoo away tears; it was such the perfect parallel. It was such a beautiful nod to their roots.

“Love, I didn’t think you remembered this!” he strained out, beginning to beam immensely, “It was so long ago.”

“Well of course I do. You were the better part of those years after all.”

“Miles...” Phoenix heaved a breath, his smile beginning to rival the light shining upon them. “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that? This was so thoughtful.”

He watched with delight as the opposing man flushed something terrible, his silver eyes averting and his grasp retracting.

“Ngh...” he softly groaned, before dismissively waving a hand and moving to sit, “It’s merely a trip down memory lane, that’s all.”

“Yeah but...” Phoenix couldn’t help but laugh, latching on to some teasing for a bit of emotional respite, “Esteemed Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth sitting in the grass for me?”

Miles seemed to stiffen a bit, coupled with another crawl of red across his visage.

“Is that really such an oddity?”

“A bit, yeah! It’s different than what we normally do.” Phoenix snickered a bit more, before he lowered himself to the ground as well, sitting flush against his partner. The mirth departed his voice then, his tone traveling back towards a more earnest warmth. “So it’s just...It’s really sweet. And meaningful.”

And utterly perfect for what he had planned.

He watched as Miles’ face immensely softened, though silver eyes averted once more. Phoenix took the opportunity to press a quick kiss to the offered cheek, before moving to nestle his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder. He sighed a contented breath upon doing so- particularly when he eventually felt Miles’ head snuggle against his.

Part of him was anxious, what with a brewing proposal swirling around in his depths. But another part hushed him, and told him to simply enjoy the scene for a moment. It was a lovely contrast against their usual life; just getting to take a few moments of calm hush with his beloved, in a place that meant so much to them. The sunlight was warming, his partner’s body was soothing, and the air was enticing.

Mismatched eyes half-lidded, and he hummed amidst the quiet. He wanted it to continue. He wanted to stay in the moment forever. But the other half of him began to cry out for attention. The other half drove him to speak, to drive the peace towards partnership.

“God, Miles...How did we even get here?”

“It’s been a long road, hmm?” the prosecutor murmured after a few beats.

“Yeah. Crazy to think I’m here with you like this. It was always a dream of mine.”

“I concur.”

“So proper,” Phoenix snickered, moving to press another kiss to the opposing man’s cheek.

“Hush,” he huffed. Before Phoenix could nestle back downwards however, Miles turned his head and captured their mouths for a proper kiss. And just as soon as the kiss started was he rising to stand, stoically and handsomely staring out towards the departing sun. He seemed to let out a shaky breath, before he continued in solemn tones. “As children, when I sat with you here, I...couldn’t help but look to the future, and imagine what could be. To think that it’s realized now, and far more than I ever pictured...”

He heaved again, and seemed to look downward at his feet.

“And to think that it could continue...”

Phoenix’s heart leapt into his throat; how was it that Miles was perfectly setting him up? How was it that he was meticulously laying the puzzle pieces out? It was almost like he knew, like he was aware of the ring burning brightly in his pocket.

“Phoenix...”

It was time. Oh God, it was time. It was like some divine forces yanked him upward, piloting him towards the start of a new beginning. He no longer questioned it. He no longer felt apprehensive. He only felt entirely driven to begin.

“-Miles, I adore you,” he blurted, butting in and rambling without much control, “I love you so much. I can’t imagine being with anyone else but you. You’re gorgeous, and amazing, and so important to me, and...”

He could feel his partner’s eyes on him. He could feel the burn of their bodies. He could feel the very question hanging in the air between them. His chest tightened, his eyes watered, and his extremities quivered...Yet he still managed to reach for the life changing box in his pocket, and poised himself to get down on one knee.

“And so I have to do something I’ve thought about since I met-“

“-Hold it!”

The sudden objection from his boyfriend startled him, causing him to crash down upon his knee as opposed to a gentle descent. He winced a bit at the impact, but physical pain was quickly replaced by emotional; Miles looked...appalled. Phoenix felt his chest squeeze immensely, coupled with a croaked utterance of the prosecutor’s name.

“Wh- Miles?”

He watched with further horror as his counterpart backed away, heaving and wringing his fists a plenty. Miles even went so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose with a hand, sighing and straining a cursed sentence.

“I cannot believe this...”

The defense lawyer trembled, the words piercing a crack in his heart. He had been wrong. He had been overzealous. He had pushed Miles too far. He had backed himself into an unlovable corner yet again.

He opened his mouth to speak, to question, to beg for answers, but all that escaped was a quivering breath. Oddly enough, the sound still managed to reach the prosecutor, because he looked back before...miraculously softening?

“-Wait wait, no. Apologies. I...” he said with a raised hand, before pulling it back in and freezing.

They both were silent for several beats then, the air immensely tense and thick. Though Phoenix felt slightly better that his beloved no longer appeared...disgusted, his heart still ached something terrible. He was confused, and downtrodden, watching his boyfriend closely for any further reactions.

React he did; he shifted more into the typical tense nervousness, pulling at his shirt and avoiding eye contact. Numerous deep breaths also heaved from the prosecutor, the exhalations sounding surprisingly shaky. Though it was likely only seconds, the quiet felt like hours, Phoenix clambering for any sign he hadn’t just made the worst mistake of his life.

And it was a wonder he doubted his partner so. It was crazy that his anxiety still got to him. The traumatic scars really did run immensely deep. But regardless, Miles finally provided, looking back and turning the situation around.

“My darling,” he began, his silver eyes interlocking with heterochromatic, “I am...so sorry for startling you. I just...have no idea how we possibly managed...”

With that, the prosecutor reached into his own pocket, and presented something that connected all the glittering puzzle pieces together.

Oh.

Every ounce of apprehension washed away. Every bit of discomfort fizzled into nothingness. Every drop of sadness evaporated into thin air. And all was replaced by the most dazzling, incredible warmth Phoenix had ever experienced.

Because it was a box, much like the one he still had in his own hand.

Suddenly, everything made sense. He had brought him out here with identical intentions. He had sweetened his tongue with the same question. He had been preparing to go down the same road, and was startled by the abrupt change in plans.

They had both tried to propose to each other. They had both tried to ask for each other’s hand.

Phoenix wasn’t sure whether to laugh or sob, and subsequently settled for a mixture of both. His free hand clapped over his mouth, and he quivered from tears and mirth alike.

“Miles? Miles?!”

Through the glaze, he could see the prosecutor shaking his head. And over his trembling vocalizations, he could hear the strained quality his boyfriend’s voice had taken.

“Always throwing me for a loop, Wright.”

“Oh my God!” Phoenix laughed, rubbing at his eyes with a hand as he attempted to compose himself. He was overwhelmed, so delightfully overwhelmed. Because two opposing rings meant they were on the exact same page. Two pieces of beautiful metal signaled each other’s answer.

His laugh choked off with more of a sob, and he peered through his fingers to get a look at his boyfriend. Miles had his head turned away, a hand grasping his face once more. Was he crying as well? Or trying not to? Whatever the case, the very consideration sent further tears down the tanner man’s cheeks.

“I...I love you,” he rasped.

“I...” Normally smooth and cool vocals were shaky and taut, the prosecutor clearing his throat before attempting again. “I love you too, dearest.”

The situation beautifully plateaued, the two men taking numerous beats to compose themselves. Neither moved. Neither said anything. Neither made any sort of advance with such a dear connection woven between them.

Phoenix continued wiping his tears and blowing out cleansing breaths. He slowly became aware of the fact that he was still on one knee, still poised to officially pop the question. Though, how was he to go about it? And with an opposing ring in the playing field? He felt inclined to inquire.

“Love?”

He watched as the prosecutor straightened, smoothing out his dress shirt and composing himself something proper. It looked very much like how he recovered in court after a sudden blow, scrambling back from an emotional edge and easing back into stoicism.

“Yes?” he answered after a few beats, though his voice was still thickened.

“What...what do we even do now?!” Phoenix laughed, his free hand traveling to rest upon his neck.

“Well,” Miles began after heaving another cleansing breath, “If we’re getting into technicalities, I’ve had this planned for months.”

The sheen in Phoenix’s eyes flashed with a new spark, the tears glistening with fire. No, not just an opposing ring- a rival ring. It seemed that old habits died hard.

“So? I’m the one on one knee right now! I beat you to it.”

“And? I don’t believe you had any sort of plan regarding this.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m trying to marry you, Phoenix,” Miles said matter-of-factly, tapping his bicep in the normal way, “Ergo, I know you better than perhaps the back of my own hand.”

The tanner man wanted to laugh at the courtroom persona his partner had suddenly adopted, argue with the points being brought to the table, and melt at the fact that Miles Edgeworth wanted to marry him. Unfortunately, he was incapable of anything of the sort; the truth was a little too on the nose.

“Ahh...” was all he sheepishly managed, his free hand grasping his neck harder.

He watched as Miles cocked a brow and gave him a knowing look, furthering the blush that gripped his cheeks.

“Out with it then.”

“Okay...Maybe I was about to start winging it...”

“Mm, as always.”

“But so what?” Phoenix exclaimed, “I’m always ready to get into how much I adore you, and why I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else, and-“

“-You are not about to advantageously segue, Phoenix Wright.”

The defense attorney burst out laughing, finally standing back up and closing the distance between them.

“Miles!” he comedically whined, giving his boyfriend’s chest a gentle shove, “Dammit, you do know me a little too well.”

“Indeed. Which is why I feel more than apt to be the first one to proceed.”

“No! I was ramping myself up towards a big speech and everything.”

“As was I. I’ve dreamed of this since I was young.”

“And you think I haven’t?!”

The prosecutor’s face devolved into more of his usual scowl, his arms lacing across his chest. It was quite the sight really, what with his eyes still containing wisps of moisture. Still, the strange contrast didn’t cease the pair’s argument.

“We seem to be at quite the impasse then.”

“A bit!” Phoenix snorted.

“Is your stubbornness really going to stop us from getting engaged?”

“Is yours?”

Miles let out a harsh sigh, his annoyance becoming more and more noticeable.

“You’re being ridiculous. Why does it matter who proposes to whom anyway?”

“If it didn’t matter so much, you would have let me go for it!” the tanner man pointed out.

“You’re incredibly obstinate.”

“Haven’t you always admired that?”

“Phoenix,” Miles hissed.

“Besides, so are you!”

“Tell me, do you have a better comeback besides mirroring what I’ve just said?”

“I could always tell you to shut up and let me get on with it.”

“Oh, so romantic and well spoken,” the prosecutor snapped, throwing his hands with exasperation, “Truly makes for the sweetest memories.”

“Says you! You’re the one who started all of this. I could have proposed already!”

It was then that Phoenix’s eyes glinted once more, this time with a spark of mischievous stubbornness. In knowing him so well, Miles appeared to pick up on it, his body twitching and his brow furrowing.

“Don’t you dare-“

The prosecutor’s snarl cut off as they both leapt for the same conclusion. Knees crashed to the ground together, and boxes were hastily grappled for, the two racing for that beautiful spot.

And then something tickled Phoenix once more.

Maybe it was the way the love of his life was kneeling and fuming before him, holding a precious box in such a seething manner. Or maybe it was the way they were both treating their rings as weapons, like they were drawing them for a duel. Or maybe, it was the way they were arguing over a damn proposal.

Regardless, the tanner man was powerless, and began laughing again without much control. The sudden mirth seemed to slap the prosecutor; out of the corner of Phoenix’s eye, he could see his partner stiffen something terrible. It was likely striking even more of a nerve, but he couldn’t help it. It was so...stupidly them, and so amusing as a result.

He bent over from the force of his giggles, instinctively placing a hand on Miles’ bent knee to steady himself. The voice of reason in the very back of his head screamed danger, as an angry prosecutor could easily shove it off. But just as the situation continued to unfold in an odd manner, as did motivations. For Phoenix felt a gentle hand come to rest upon his own, squeezing as opposed to throwing.

“What’s...so funny?” he barely heard his boyfriend ask, his hesitant voice drowned out by the seamless mirth. He had to take numerous beats to sharply inhale, to attempt to get some air, before he could even consider replying.

“...This!” he gasped, wiping building tears with his free hand, “Us!”

To both his surprise and amusement, he heard what sounded like a cheerful huff from the prosecutor. Maybe he was being pulled down into the fun as well? The thought tickled the tanner man even more, and he rode another wave of giggles before fighting for further conversation.

“Miles...Miles...What the hell are we even doing?”

Yes, the prosecutor was definitely laughing now; Phoenix could hear the chuckles blending in so well with his own. It sent him into another fit, made worse by what Miles said next.

“Being...Imbecilic I suppose.”

The pair took a few moments to laugh together then, completely replacing the annoyance in Phoenix’s system with honeyed warmth once more. How typical of them. How beautiful of them. Riding an emotional rollercoaster was something of wonderful normalcy, even in what was supposed to be a special moment. Though, perhaps it actually made the moment all the more meaningful, all the more memorable.

“God! We’re so stupid...We’re so damn stupid...” the defense eventually wheezed, continuing to wipe at his eyes.

“Speak for yourself,” Miles huffed, slowly standing back up and brushing himself off.

“We’re- hey!” Phoenix laughed, erecting to give his boyfriend’s chest yet another push, “You’re an ass.”

“Oh, will the loving talk ever cease?” the prosecutor sighed with a roll of his eyes.

The tanner man continued to giggle, before he stepped even closer, nuzzling his nose tenderly against Miles’. The pair softened immensely, and the defense attorney took advantage by offering yet another kiss.

“I love you so much,” he whispered when their mouths parted.

“I love you too.”

The pair took a few beats of tender silence then, stepping down from the nonsensical energy that had been their argument. It was Miles’ turn to take advantage then; he reached with a hand to brush black hairs back into place before gently framing a damp cheek.

“I do still intend to go through with this, you know,” he murmured, before mildly cocking a brow, “Even though the mood has been thoroughly soiled now.”

“I do too. I-“ Heterochromatic eyes widened slightly, the tanner man starting like he had reached a brilliant conclusion in court. “Hey, actually...”

“Hmm?”

“Hear me out on this, okay? Going back and forth is totally our thing, right? We kinda just proved that.”

A huff and eye roll from the prosecutor drew another shaky laugh from the defense. Still, he continued.

“So what if we...propose together? Back and forth?”

He watched as a strong swath of red spread across his boyfriend’s cheeks, coupled with a furrow of his brow. Silver eyes flitted off to the side as well, a sign he was either flustered or objecting.

“That’s...”

In fearing the latter, Phoenix quickly interjected. “-I know, I know, it’s weird. And not exactly traditional. But it’s...us, you know?”

“I suppose that would indeed solve our problem after all.”

“Okay...”

The tanner man heaved a multitude of cleansing breaths, attempting to pull his composure back to the proper place. But with the element of surprise gone, with two rings in the vicinity, and with the love of his life staring through sparkles of unshed tears...He couldn’t help but shakily laugh, intense emotions swaying all over the place.

“Whew, I...Dammit! I can’t focus now-“

“-Shh,” Miles cut in, suddenly leaning closer and nestling their foreheads together, “Come here then, dearest. I believe we need to...take a moment.”

The defense’s breath caught at the proximity, but he nodded, allowing himself to get ushered away by the man before him. Nestled so close, aggressively ricocheting emotions had no choice but to settle; for there was nothing quite as soothing as snuggling up to his beloved. His mind whited out with the gentle, floral scent of the prosecutor, and the soft warmth his being provided. Though his heart was still pounding, and his eyes were still watering, it did indeed effectively walk him back to a more composed mentality. Perhaps because it reminded him just how much he adored the opposing man, and just how much he wanted to marry him.

“Better?” Miles eventually whispered.

“Yeah...” Phoenix replied, before blowing out a few more cleansing breaths. This was it. This was really it. “Okay. Okay okay...”

He leaned back then, intertwining both stares and fingers. The two shared a look of love, of reverence, of happiness, before stepping fully into the light.

“Phoenix Wright...”

“Miles Edgeworth...”

The tanner man watched as his beloved opened his mouth, but stiffened when no words followed. The tender visage furrowed back into a scowl, but thankfully, Phoenix wasn’t left in apprehension for too long.

“Curses. I had been so ready!”

Phoenix found himself laughing once again; composure was still a beast, it seemed. But somehow, by some damn graces, were words poised on his own tongue. So he gripped his love’s hand a bit tighter, and allowed them to fall.

“Well here- I knew I wanted to marry you from the moment I met you.”

The furrow on Miles’ face didn’t ease- it only turned incredulous. Naturally, Phoenix laughed even harder, and gave the prosecutor’s hand another squeeze.

“I’m serious! Even at nine years old, I could recognize my soulmate.”

Miles seemed to consider the statement, or allow the words to blanket over him. Either way, after a few beats, did he find his stride as well, steering them both towards a more solemn air.

“From the beginning, you enraptured me,” he murmured, silver eyes trained off to the side, “I felt safe around you, happy around you. And there was a deeper sort of calling that I recognized too- something brilliant and pure that I haven’t experienced with anyone else.”

“I think it was so strong and beautiful that I didn’t know what to do with myself,” Phoenix admitted.

“Indeed. It frightened me, and you know this. I denied its call initially. Or perhaps I didn’t deem myself worthy of standing hand in hand with such an incredible, intelligent, wonderful man.”

“Miles...” Phoenix murmured, his voice and face coated with disdain.

“Especially after all I’d done. So, I of course stepped away from that gorgeous light you cast.”

“But I had no intention of losing you. Still don’t.”

The two squeezed hands, before monochrome eyes slowly crept upwards to find mismatched once more.

“Nor I you,” Miles whispered, “When your hand was presented, I could only avoid its reach for so long. There was only so much running before that warmth enveloped me. No longer could I deny the deep and complex feelings you evoked within.”

“I didn’t know how to go about it, you know. Once I had your hand, I didn’t know what to do. I stumbled a bit trying to figure it all out.” Phoenix looked downward at their connection then, a warm, tearful smile overtaking his face. “All I did know was that I was so incredibly in love with you.”

He heard Miles’ breath catch, and subsequently offered a few caresses with his thumb. The prosecutor softly cleared his throat, before he managed to tenderly continue.

“I...knew I was in love with you too. The second you found me, the second you reached me, I could feel it.”

“Yet somehow we danced circles around each other,” Phoenix shakily snickered.

“I just couldn’t comprehend it. I struggled to find mutuality. Because, I of course just wanted to see you happy. I wanted nothing but the best for you. And I wasn’t sure I fit that bill.”

“You did. You do.” Phoenix softly broke their connection for the purpose of framing his partner’s face, tenderly holding and intently staring. “God, Miles, you do. I don’t think I could love someone as much as I love you. Maybe I couldn’t even wrap my head around it either.”

“And we both experienced hardships of course.”

“Yeah. But you were there for me. You took my hand as well. You guided me and made me a stronger, better person. I wouldn’t be who I am today if not for you.”

“I of course can say the same about you. You are...” Miles heaved a shaky breath himself, before reaching to mirror the touch. “...the dearest thing in my life, Phoenix. You are my light, my guidance, my foundation, and my truth. You are so incredibly important to me, and I love you more than I ever deemed possible.”

Phoenix had heard his partner speak soft sentiments before. He had experienced the deeper, more vulnerable side of the prosecutor a handful of times. But whispered in a spot from their childhood, proclaimed as they sought to strengthen their bond...

It amplified his tears tenfold, his bottom lip wobbling as awed cascades poured forth.

“I...M-Miles...Dammit...” he croaked, leading to a playful eye roll from his partner.

“Mm, so eloquent,” Miles softly huffed.

“Shh! I...” Phoenix hesitated, overwhelmed and overflowing with adoration. He felt there wasn’t much to say to top what had just been murmured- and he also knew he dangerously close to falling apart. Consequently, he softly tugged his partner closer, and locked them in a tender kiss. He couldn’t help but whimper against the prosecutor’s lips, but he hoped to instill every bit of honeyed warmth he could manage- at least until he could properly vocalize.

“You’re my home, my warmth, my dream, my everything,” he eventually murmured, his mouth ghosting against his partner’s, “I love you more than humanely possible. You make me so so happy. There is no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. So you’re kinda...stuck with me forever.”

“I would have it no other way. You have me, always.”

“Always. I’m yours.”

The two men stared at each other for numerous beats, glassy eyes peering deeply into each other’s souls. Tears ran down Phoenix’s cheeks, whereas Miles remained unshed and unbroken. But regardless, the intense emotion was palpable, the next step dangling right there for both to grab.

“So then...” Miles whispered.

“So then...” Phoenix quietly returned.

In mirroring each other, in being on the same plane, the two simultaneously lowered to one knee, far slower and less chaotic than the previous time. Instead, it was purposeful, devout, the pair entirely interlocked as they continued. They both presented their respective boxes once more, and shakily prepared for the final step.

“Phoenix Wright?”

“Miles Edgeworth?”

“Would...would you do me the extraordinary honor...and privilege...” Miles started.

“...of becoming my husband?” Phoenix finished.

It was then that he opened his box, with Miles following closely behind. And again, did he come incredibly close to breaking. Again, did he nearly lose hold on reality.

Because of course he and Miles continued to parallel. Of course they both ran with the same idea: The ring the prosecutor was presenting glistened with blue, just as the ring he presented glistened with red. They were gifting each other’s aesthetics. They deeply recognized each other, nodded to each other, and such an element would likely switch the next time they gifted rings.

The next time they gifted rings...

“I’ve waited so long to marry you, Miles...” Phoenix managed to gasp.

“I’ve pictured no one else...”

Phoenix was barely breathing, barely thinking. But still, did the words roll off his tongue, like they had been poised to do for eternity.

“So...yes.”

The preciousness finally broke the nigh impenetrable glass, a single tear rolling down the prosecutor’s cheek as he returned the deepest sentiment.

“Yes.”

Phoenix choked out a pitiful sob, and couldn’t help but tug them both upwards, his mouth finding Miles’ the second they were standing. And it was a wonder how their kiss almost immediately felt different, tasted different. It was sweeter, purer, and more profound. It was like their lips connected in a way they hadn’t before. It was something gorgeous, something new.

Perhaps it was because they were engaged. They were engaged.

Miles Edgeworth was his fiancé.

Another heaving sob from the defense attorney forced the kiss apart, and he opted to simply bury himself against Miles’ neck, beaming and crying all the while. He snuggled as close as he could possibly manage, and relished in the feeling of hands embracing him tightly. There, he attempted to compose himself, but naturally, the opposing man didn’t make things easy.

“Pull yourself together, Wright,” Miles softly jested, his voice thick with moisture, “You’re yanking me down with you.”

“I c-can’t,” he half-laughed half-sobbed.

“Mm...Perhaps I should take advantage and christen your finger with a ring first then...”

Sobs leant more towards laughter then, the defense attorney tightly hugging the prosecutor before leaning back in the embrace.

“N-nice try! We’re still doing this together.”

“We need both hands, silly,” Miles huffed before cocking an amused brow at his partner, “Though, judging by our differing composure, I relinquish my previous statement and deem it appropriate that you go first. Before you collapse on me, that is.”

“God, I love you...” Phoenix laughed, “And yeah, no promises...”

They both snickered, before turning their attention downward. Eyeing the two rings almost choked Phoenix up something terrible, but he managed to hang on by a mere thread. He focused on the band he intended to gift, the essence of his partner, fixating on completing the beautiful tradition. With a hand, he removed the precious ring from its box. And then shakily, softly, reverently, did he grab Miles’ hand with one of his own, and slip the band onto his finger with the other.

He shivered at the sight, at the ring finally resting in its proper place. But he barely had time to process before Miles began to mirror, slipping the opposing ring onto his tanner finger in return.

And then red truly danced with blue. Blue completely intertwined with red. Two colors dazzled and sparkled beside each other- just as they had for years, and would continue to do so for the rest of their days.

Phoenix could do nothing but stare for what seemed like an eternity, his trance only broken by Miles bringing their hands upward. Once more did he press soft kisses to Phoenix’s fingers, the weight of which was far greater now. The defense had no choice but to articulate.

“I’m...I’m going to marry you.”

Phoenix let out another round of gasping breaths, and was sure his smile was going to split his cheeks as he uttered the dreamlike phrase once more.

“Oh my God...I’m going to...marry you, Miles...We’re engaged.”

“We are...” the prosecutor quietly reaffirmed.

Shivering laughs trembled both bodies, before Phoenix gently pried his hands free. He immediately reached to frame Miles’ face, and the new glisten to his finger forced further cascades down his cheeks.

“We did it...” he laughed.

And the expression that had washed over his fiancé’s face was like nothing he had ever seen. It seemed to carry a level of adoration he didn’t even know existed. It seemed to be comprised of more warmth than that of the sun on the horizon. It seemed to be an expression entirely reserved for him.

All of which told Phoenix that he had, in fact, made the best decision of his life. Though, the following murmured word from his beloved hammered it in, cemented them fully on the unified plane.

“Finally...”

61 notes · View notes

babyboibucky · 3 years

Text

Babysitting Bucky - Part 5

Pairing: FATWS!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,368

Summary: You’ve been assigned by the government to keep an eye on the Winter Soldier to ensure that he was no longer a threat to the world.

A/N: It has begun lmfao, check out the link at the end of this post if you’d like to be tagged in the next updates! Would love to receive feedbacks!

MASTERLIST

You found yourself in the conference room of the Avengers compound, together with Sam, Bucky, Sharon and Fury discussing about an upcoming mission.

Sharon went over the brief of the mission with everyone. There was an intel about a certain drug cartel that decided to expand their business and venture into the trade of biological weapons as well. Grabbing the folder on the desk, you skimmed through the information and frowned when your eyes landed on a familiar name.

“Black Sparrow? I thought the entire organization was taken down during the raid years ago?” You asked.

Bucky turned to you, “You know these guys?”

“One of my first missions, I was the assigned liaison officer to check up on the whistleblower who was placed under the witness protection program.” You explained.

Sharon sighed, “Apparently, not everyone was imprisoned. Whoever decided to keep the organization going, we have no idea.”

The mission required all of you to find out about the illegal trades. There wasn’t much information provided, except for the tip that an important trade might be taking place soon.

“Black Sparrow’s nest is said to be hidden within a fruit shop downtown.” Sharon added.

Fury let Sam takeover the strategizing, with him deciding to do a stakeout to see how the organization operates. Once the trade takes place, raid the nest, find out the other groups involved and most importantly the source of biological weapons.

“You up for a stakeout, Buck?” Sam asked.

Bucky shrugged and glanced at you, “Only if the babysitter agrees to do so.”

You let out an exasperated breath, “Mister Barnes, I would appreciate it if you’d address me properly.” You scolded.

Sam cleared his throat, “Alright. Sharon and I will try to research on the potential groups involved in the trades. Stakeout starts tonight so pack your things.”

All your things have been packed and you were about to leave your room when you received a call from none other than Secretary Ross.

“Ugh, what does he want now?” You complained to yourself before accepting the call.

“I heard about the stakeout, Agent. Isn’t it convenient?”

You rolled your eyes; the secretary’s voice was too chirpy, as if he was excited. He was definitely up to something, what it was, you still didn’t know. Something about the mission you were tasked to do was off. They didn’t even tell you for how long you needed to tag along the Winter Soldier.

“Yes, sir. I will make sure to keep an eye on the subject and report whatever it is that I find out of place.” You reassured, hoping that the secretary would simply hum in agreement and end the call.

“Good. But wouldn’t it be better if you stir things up a bit?” He asked.

You frowned, “I don’t understand what you mean, sir.”

Secretary Ross chuckled, “Push his buttons, Agent. See how he reacts to certain triggers.”

God, he really wants you to dig some dirt on Bucky. You were supposed to tell him that you already tried doing so and that nothing bad happened, but the Secretary reminded you that he wanted to see a detailed report about it and ended the call.

You didn’t want to push Bucky’s buttons anymore. Bringing up the Soldat seemed too much already and he had already proven how much in control he was of himself. However, you felt conflicted as well since you needed to file a report. You could easily fake it though, but you were afraid that the secretary might have eyes and ears lurking around.

You were too deep into your thoughts, almost losing track of the time. Thankfully, FRIDAY interrupted and informed you that Bucky and Sam were already outside the compound, waiting for you.

“You’re eight minutes late, Agent.” Sam reprimanded as you approached them.

“Did you have a hard time packing Bucky’s diapers and feeding bottles?” He teased.

Bucky grunted in dismay, “Jesus, Sam.”

“Sorry, had to take a phone call from the secretary.” You responded and began placing your things inside the trunk of the car.

Bucky stiffened at the mention of Secretary Ross, his hands tightened into fists at his side. You eyed his stance and noticed that he seemed uncomfortable. Who wouldn’t be if the government had their eyes on you?

“Nothing to worry about, Mister Barnes. You’re all good. I made sure of that.” You told him reassuringly before sliding into the passenger’s seat.

Bucky drove to the stakeout location with an uncomfortable silence in the air with the occassional directions coming from the GPS. You were slightly nervous about being on a week-long stakeout. It wasn’t because you were afraid of Bucky, but being with him by yourself was intimidating.

Seven days with the Winter Soldier. With no one else around.

You and the Winter Soldier. On a stakeout. For an entire week.

The more you thought about it, the more it was beginning to sink in. You’ve had your fair share of stakeouts in the past, but you were either by yourself or paired someone you closely worked with. But a stakeout with Bucky Barnes? How the fuck were you going to keep calm the entire week and maintain your calm persona?

“So...” Bucky trailed, tone unsure as if he too was uncomfortable with the silence and decided to break it but not knowing how to proceed.

“Do you want to turn on the radio?” He asked and cleared his throat, keeping his gaze on the road.

You looked out the window, “Yeah, why not.” You said with faux nonchalance.

Bucky quickly turned it on and adjusted the volume. He skimmed through various radio stations before settling on one.

Despite having the radio playing in the background, the atmosphere between you and Bucky remained awkward and uncomfortable. You could tell that Bucky could feel it too, so you decided to start a conversation.

“How has it been being an Avenger?”

You didn’t know why you chose that question, but it was the first thing that popped into your mind.

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, “Is that part of your research on me or are you actually trying to start a conversation?” He asked, glancing at you with amusement.

“You know what, forget about it, Mister Barnes.” You waved off.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was genuinely curious.” He sheepishly responded, “But to answer your question, it’s been...weird so to speak. Especially having someone watch my every move.”

You shrugged, “Well, I apologize but I don’t have a choice. This is my job and I have to—“

“I know, Agent. You don’t need to explain, I completely understand. I’m really trying not to make it hard for you to do your job.” He explained.

You were actually surprised at how easy it was to talk to Bucky. You were expecting him to be completely broody and tight-lipped, considering all the things he went through. There were times when he’d be moody of course, but for the most part, he was friendly. And very kind.

“Well then I appreciate it, Mister Barnes.” You stated.

Bucky let out a breathy laugh, “I’m still looking forward to the day when you’d call me, Bucky.” He said and gave you a smile.

You felt your face heat up from the way he smiled at you and how his eyes crinkled at the sides. He almost looked the same as he did in his photos dated back to the 40’s, when he was oozing with that boyish charm and innocence before he was drafted for the war.

You immediately looked away and bit your lip.

The two of you arrived at the cheap motel that was situated a few blocks away from the fruit shop. The building was old and almost looked dilapidated. It was known to be the number one spot for illegal transactions. It was the perfect place for a stakeout.

“The old lady at the reception seemed suspicious of us, I saw how she eyed the both of us when we checked in.” You said upon entering the motel room, groaning at the stench that welcomed your nostrils.

Obviously, the room was far from decent given the quality of the motel itself. There were two beds separated by a night desk and a small coffee table; the cream curtains were splotchy and dusty, some parts of the wallpaper were torn apart and the flooring creaked with every single step.

“I think she was merely judging us, thinking we’re one of those couples.” Bucky said as he placed his bags on the bed.

“Those couples?” You asked, walking over to the other bed and inspecting the bedding.

“Well, I heard this motel is a popular location for shooting x-rated videos.” Bucky explained casually as he walked towards the window, pushing the curtains aside, revealing the perfect view of Black Sparrow’s nest.

You almost choke on your own spit, “You mean to say...that old lady thought we were going to shoot porn?!”

Bucky hummed, “Maybe. It’s probably for the best, that way we’ll remain unsuspicious. Less chances of being interrupted as well.” he replied casually, as if it was no big deal but you also noticed that the corner of his lips curved into a slight smirk.

Clearing your throat, you regained your composure and went to unpack your things instead, starting with some of the weapons you brought. A stakeout often resulted to a raid so you had to make sure that you were prepared in case of an attack. Bucky moved away from the window and closed the curtains again before sitting on his bed.

“Those all yours?” he asked with interest as he watched you arrange your knives and guns on top of your bed.

You glanced at him for a quick second and saw the glint in his eyes as he observed your arsenal, you just hummed in response and started cleaning your guns while Bucky watched in silence.

“When we sparred...” he trailed and you froze, expecting him to confront you when you brought up the Soldat to trigger him.

“You used Romanoff’s technique. Where did you learn that?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Mister Barnes, it’s not that hard to learn that move. I’m just as trained as you and Mister Wilson, I know a lot of moves.” you explained but Bucky didn’t seem to buy it.

“It’s actually kinda hard to execute that move. Not a lot of trained agents can do that easily.” he pressed.

You pursed your lips before looking up at him, “Sounds to me like you’re trying to compliment my skills, Mister Barnes.”

Bucky ended up letting go of the topic.

The first few hours of the stakeout was uneventful; you and Bucky simply kept watch to see whether there were suspicious movements in the fruit shop. It seemed to be a regular fruit shop but there were certain people walking in and out of it that looked pretty shady.

This was going to be a difficult task.

There were small conversations between you and Bucky, mostly formal and about the mission. Everything seemed to be going well but you knew that the longer the both of you would stakeout together, the more it was going to be uncomfortable. You figured that you’d cross that bridge when you get there.

It was past six when you felt a pang of hunger; the last time you had a meal was during lunch. You needed to get food before your stomach could even embarrass you in front of Bucky who remained staring out of the window, keeping watch.

“I’m getting us food for dinner, would you like anything?” you asked.

Bucky shook his head, “Anything is fine.” he offered a small smile.

You left the motel and thankfully, there was a nearby Mcdonald’s a couple blocks away. On your way back, you decided to casually pass by the fruit shop to get a closer look. You didn’t want to linger around but you did notice that there were certain people who kept on going in and out of the store throughout the day. You rushed back to your room to inform Bucky about it and upon stepping inside, you were welcomed by the sight of the Winter Soldier fresh out of the shower wearing only a towel that was wrapped around his waist while he was drying his hair with another towel.

Your eyes immediately zoomed in on the droplets of water that was running from Bucky’s neck down to his pecs, sliding lower to his chiseled abs. Your eyes remained on his abdomen, even when the water had disappeared into the towel around his waist. By the time you snapped out of your trance, you shifted your gaze back to Bucky’s face hoping that he didn’t catch you staring at his body.

Oh, but it was too late because your eyes were immediately met by a pair of baby blues.

“I...b-bought...” you stammered and wanted to slap yourself for sounding like an idiot. “...dinner from uh...Burger King.” you continued, unable to look away from Bucky’s piercing gaze.

“Mcdonald’s.” he said.

“What?”

“You bought from Mcdonald’s...not Burger King.” Bucky corrected you, pointing towards the brown paper bag in your hands.

You coughed and finally managed to look away from Bucky’s half-naked figure, “Yes, I meant Mcdonald’s. Sorry.” you softly said and pre-occupied yourself by taking out the food from the paper bag and placing them on the small table.

As you focused your attention on arranging the food on the desk, you felt Bucky hover behind you. His bare chest slightly pressing against your back as he reached for the french fries that was still inside the paper bag. You stood still and tried to keep your cool despite the closeness between you and Bucky. He pulled away just as quickly and grinned when you looked back at him with a frown.

“You smell good, Agent.” he said before grabbing his clothes from his bed and walking back into the bathroom to get dressed.

You blinked a couple of times before you realized what had just happened.

“Fuck!” you whispered under your breath.

This was going to be one hell of a stakeout.

Babysitting Bucky Tag List:

@chipilerendi @procrastinationinawriter @supraveng @sammypotato67 @grace-writes-shit @tanyaherondale @dev-loves-siri @ahahafudge @nerdgirl0824 @thomasthetankson @its-yasbxtch

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14

#bbbwrites #babysitting bucky #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #sebastian stan

243 notes · View notes

blueskrugs · 3 years

Text

Mary’s Song | Tyson Jost

happy friday! we’ve got josty this week! even better, this one’s longer and has minimal angst. I hope y’all like it, thanks again to @broadstbroskis for being my beta, and I’ll see you next week with the first song from Fearless!

length: 2.7k words

I looked at you like the stars that shined in the sky, the pretty lights And our daddies used to joke about the the two of us, growing up and falling in love

You’d known Tyson Jost for as long as you could remember . You had been neighbors when you were little, had gone to the same preschool and everything. Your moms said you’d been inseparable from the start.

Well, really, Tyson had offered you some of his snack, and you’d declared that you were best friends. It had kinda just stuck.

You heard your moms laughing sometimes, and they would say that you looked at Tyson like he’d hung the stars in the sky, though you didn’t understand what it meant at the time. You just knew that Tyson was your favorite person, and that you wanted to be friends with him forever.

Take me back when our world was one block wide I dared you to kiss me, and ran when you tried

Tyson got into hockey when you were still little. He was head over heels from the start, though from the one time you had tagged along with Laura and a toddling Kacey to practice, it seemed like there was more falling than playing hockey.

“I bet I could teach you how to ice skate,” Tyson said one day after school.

You laughed, because he knew that you were scared of falling, but Tyson was looking at you earnestly, all messy hair and bright brown eyes. You were seven, and Tyson was starting to show some talent on the ice, you knew he loved it, but you would like to keep your feet on solid ground, thank you very much.

“Aw, come on,” Tyson begged.

“No way, Tys,” you said, but Tyson kept pushing, literally, shoving up into your space and leaning on you.

“It’ll be fun!” he tried. You just shook your head at him. “Alright, fine. Tyson’s eyes turned mischievous, and you knew then that this wasn’t going to end well for you. “What about a bet? If I win, I get to teach you how to ice skate.”

He had you there. You were nothing if not competitive, and Tyson knew that better than anyone. And when Tyson with you and competition, you would stop at nothing to win.

“Ugh, fine,” you said, crossing your arms. “But a bet’s cheating, and you know it.”

Tyson just grinned at you. You thought for a minute. Tyson was bigger than you, just a little, but still enough that he wasn’t above tackling you into a snowbank to get the upper hand. You knew because he had done it just last week.

You had an idea.

“Bet you can’t catch me,” you said, and Tyson opened his mouth to complain. But you pressed a kiss to his cheek before scrambling off the steps you were sitting on, and Tyson was left staring after you, mouth still open.

You’d overheard the other boys in your class talking about cooties and teasing Tyson about being best friends with you just the other day. He’d been blushy and weird about it for a couple days before deciding that he could, in fact, be best friends with a girl, cooties or not.

You laughed, loud in the quiet of your neighborhood, as you heard Tyson shout, “Hey!” and collect himself enough to race after you.

He did end up catching you, because you were too busy laughing to keep running. You’d never admit it to Tyson, either, but letting him teach you how to skate was fun.

Well, I was 16 when suddenly I wasn’t that little girl you used to see They never believed we’d really fall in love

In another few years, hockey went from something for Tyson to everything, and he was heading off to B.C. You didn’t let Tyson see you cry when he left you behind, but it was hard, only 12 years old and watching your best friend get on a plane for 800 miles away. You didn’t want him to forget about you.

Tyson always came home, though, and when he was too far away, he would always call, always answer the phone for you. Before you knew it, you weren’t kids anymore, and Tyson was getting drafted. You were there with his mom and Kacey when Colorado called his name. You were so happy for him, but as you watched him pull that jersey over his head, you couldn’t help but feel like you were losing your best friend again. You weren’t sure you’d get him back this time.

Except in the middle of the madness that was the draft party back home later that week, Tyson grabbed you by the arm and dragged you outside. He was still wearing an Avs hat, but it was crooked, and his cheeks were flushed.

“I’m proud of you,” you told him. You felt like you’d been saying that a lot lately, but you still meant it every time. Tyson just shrugged at you, ducking his head.

“I wanna talk to you about something,” he said. Up close like this, Tyson seemed nervous.

“Tys. What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna miss you,” he admitted, but there was still something he wasn’t saying. He’d left you before, that wasn’t anything new.

“I’m gonna miss you, too, Tys, but-”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Tyson blurted, cutting you off.

You froze. Tyson looked unsure, curls askew under that stupid hat, and, yeah, he was just your best friend, but you’d probably been a little bit in love with him for years, too.

You didn’t quite know how to say that, so you stood up on your toes and pressed a kiss to Tyson’s lips. When you pulled back, hands still on Tyson’s shoulders, he was grinning down at you.

“So.” Tyson’s hands found your hips. “Guess you love me, too?”

“I take it back.” Tyson was going to be annoying about this, you could already.

“Nope,” Tyson said. He kissed you again, because he could. “Too late.”

Not much changed after that. You and Tyson still spent all of your time together, except there was a lot more kissing. Tyson had always been a tactile person, always looking for an excuse to be close to you, to be touching you in some way, and now he didn’t need an excuse. You couldn’t turn around without Tyson being there, a kiss pressed to your cheek, your temple, your lips.

You rolled your eyes at him every time, but you didn’t really mind.

You saw your moms smiling knowingly at you two sometimes, when they saw you curled up on the couch watching a movie, and you remembered the way they used to say you looked at Tyson like he’d hung the stars. You knew what that meant now, and they might’ve been on to something all those years ago.

You asked Tyson about it one night late that first summer together, underneath those very stars, on your backs in the grass.

“How’d you know?” Tyson turned his head to look at you. “That you were in love with me?” You were still young, but with Tyson it just seemed right.

Tyson laughed, rolling to his side and propping himself up on one elbow.

“I think I’ve always been in love with you,” he admitted. He was blushing a little.

You leaned up to kiss him, and when you pulled back, he was blushing harder. “Me too.”

You weren’t able to be there the night Tyson made his debut, but he called you after the game, all bright eyes and flushed cheeks and messy curls that you loved so much.

“I love you,” he said quietly, like he still didn’t quite believe any of this was happening.

You wished you could be there to hug him, tell him again how proud you were of him.

Take me back to the time we had our very first fight, the slamming of doors instead of kissing goodnight You stayed outside ‘til the morning light

The distance never did get easier, especially on the days Tyson struggled with his hockey, and you wondered if there would ever come a day where Tyson would have to decide which he loved more: you or hockey.

But there were always summers together, and long weekends and spring break. You made it work. Or, you thought you did.

“Have you ever thought about transferring schools?” Tyson asked one day out of the blue. He’d only been home a couple of weeks after the Avs had been knocked out by San Jose. You were sitting on the front porch swing after dinner, Tyson’s arm around your shoulders, but you tensed and pulled away from him.

“Why would I switch schools?” You had stayed close to home, and you were on pace to graduate early. Most importantly, you were happy.

Tyson shrugged, but his nonchalance seemed fake. “You could come down to Denver,” he said. He was looking over your shoulder at the sunset.

You raised your eyebrows at him. You hadn’t followed Tyson to UND, and you weren’t about to uproot your life to follow him to Denver. He’d been okay with that. You’d thought he’d been, at least.

“I’m not switching schools, Tys,” you said. You couldn’t decide if you were really angry or just hurt. This wasn’t Tyson asking you to move to Denver with him; it was him asking you to give up the life you were building and planning to be his girlfriend.

You stopped yourself from reminding Tyson that he couldn’t even stay in the lineup again this season, because he knew that already.

“Why not?” Tyson looked like he really didn’t get it. “You do want to come to Denver, one day, right?”

And, yeah, of course you did. There wasn’t a future in your head that didn’t have Tyson by your side. But you were supposed to graduate first, be able to start a life of your own out in Colorado, not just follow Tyson there.

“What if I don’t?” came out of your mouth instead. Tyson's face fell. He’d hurt you, and now you’d hurt him, too. “Tyson, my friends and family are all here, how am I just supposed to leave everyone behind?” You would, one day. You just weren’t ready yet.

“I did it.” Tyson’s voice was small.

He had, and you’d been one of the ones he’d left behind, over and over.

“And what if you change your mind about me, about us?”

Tyson recoiled as if you had slapped him. You supposed you had, in a way.

“I won’t,” Tyson said lowly. He looked like he wanted to grab your hand. “I would never.”

You believed him, but you couldn’t do this anymore tonight.

“Good night, Tyson,” you said, standing up and heading inside. You didn’t look over your shoulder to see Tyson’s face as the screen door shut behind you.

You woke up the next morning to find Tyson passed out on your living room couch. He was still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

“Sweetheart,” your mom said carefully as you walked into the kitchen. “Why did I find Tyson asleep on the porch swing when I went out for the paper this morning?”

You giggled a little in spite of yourself. Like a lot of things, last night’s fight felt a little stupid in the daylight. That also explained how Tyson was currently drooling on one of your mom’s throw pillows.

“We got in a little bit of a fight last night,” you told her. “I should probably wake him, eh?” He didn’t look very comfortable, but you didn’t imagine he’d slept very well outside, either.

Your mom just smiled into her coffee.

You watched Tyson sleep for a moment before poking him to wake up. He pressed his face deeper into the pillow for a second before blinking disgruntledly up at you.

“Hey.”

“You’re an idiot,” you told him, but it just came out fond. Tyson grinned up at you. He had pillow creases on his face.

You ended up going out for breakfast, after taking Tyson home to change into not-stale clothes. You both apologized over waffles, but you didn’t talk about it. It was fine, you were fine. The future was scary.

Tyson didn’t bring it up again that summer. Not until you were on FaceTime one late night after the season started, when you were both tired and defenses were down. It was easier to talk about the future that way, for some reason, making plans while you were both half asleep. You dreamed of mountains that night.

Denver could wait, and Tyson would always be there waiting for you, too.

A few years had gone and come around, we were sitting at our favorite spot in town And you looked at me, got down on one knee

Years passed. You graduated college. Moved to Denver, moved in with Tyson. You loved Denver, and you loved Tyson. And on late nights when you couldn’t sleep, you could just reach across the bed instead of reaching for the phone.

It happened back home in Alberta, though, because Tyson was sentimental like that, and home was where it all began.

You were next to Tyson on porch swing after dinner, just like you had so many times before, except tonight Tyson seemed nervous. He was clutching your hand tightly, and he was rambling, some story about JT you were pretty sure you’d heard before. When he paused to take a breath, you nudged him with your clasped hands.

“What’s up, babe?” you asked. Tyson’s ears turned red the way they always did when you called him “babe.”

Tyson squeezed your hand, then brought it up to his mouth to press a quick kiss to the back of it.

“Do you remember all the days we used to spend out here when we were kids?”

You did. You’d do your homework out on the porch swing on nice days, and when there wasn’t homework, you’d find some other reason to be outside. It had always been both of yours favorite spot.

“I always hoped we’d end up back here like this one day, y’know?”

You did know, but Tyson was letting go of your hand and sliding off the swing, down on one knee next to you, before you could respond.

“Tyson,” you breathed out instead.

There was a ring in Tyson’s hands, and he kept turning it over nervously as he continued talking. You had a half thought to hope he didn’t drop it.

“In my head, I was gonna have this great speech, and it was gonna be all romantic and shit, but now I can’t think of any words to say.”

You giggled and reached out to run your fingers through Tyson’s hair before cupping his cheek. He leaned into the touch. The sun was setting behind him, bright pinks and yellows across the sky, and it was just like every other time you’d sat right here together.

“I love you,” you said, because it seemed important.

“You’ve been in my life for as long as I can remember, and I can’t think of anyone else I want to spend the rest of my life with. Because that’s all I want, to be with you forever.” Tyson paused, took a deep breath. “Y/N, will you marry me?” he asked, looking up at you with big brown eyes.

“Yes, Tyson, of course,” you said, laughing. You might’ve been crying, too; it was a little hard to tell.

After all this time, you and I…

Alberta was home, but so was Denver. Tyson had been by your side for as long as you could remember, and he’d be there for as long as you could imagine.

You’d been lucky to fall in love with your best friend, but you’d probably always been a little bit in love with him, so maybe luck had nothing to do with it.

When you bought a new home together, Tyson insisted that you had to have a porch swing. Not that you would have objected.

“D’you think our kids will be like us one day?” he asked you once. There was a ring to match yours on his finger, now.

“What?” All those years, and sometimes you still didn’t understand half of what came out of Tyson’s mouth.

“Like, cute, fall in love with the kid next door stuff,” Tyson said.

You just laughed.

#cait writes things #the swift series #tyson jost #tsyon jost fic #tyson jost imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

229 notes · View notes

1kook · 4 years

Text

skirt chasers - drabble i

a skirt chasers drabble bc they are my fave fictional couple to date <333

tags: coupley and domestic, jk’s terrible attempts at seducing via text, making out, dry humping, spitting (ik idk what came over me), too much talking for this to be sexual pero hey here we are wc: like 3k

entirely based off jungkook from bv3 that man had NO right to look that good and the holy jirkenstocks (jungkook birkenstocks). wont lie this has been completely written in my drafts since November (yes 2019) and i hoarded it under the belief i would make this a whole part 2 which i did not

que dios los bendiga <3

Much to everyone’s dismay, Jungkook’s spring break in Vegas with the boys is cut three days short when Jimin’s dog sitter suddenly cancels, citing a case of homesickness as enough cause to abruptly go home. When you first hear news of this, you’re preparing yourself for the return of a mopey, useless Jungkook, too drained from four glorious days in Las Vegas to carry on. What you’re not expecting is the mysterious text he sends you before boarding a five hour flight with no service (he was cheap).

kook still on vegas lockdown. Have that pussy ready when i get home

“The fuck does that mean?” Chaeyoung is the first to see the message, your screen lighting up on the kitchen counter beside you as you scrub through a mountainous pile of dishes. You try to play it off, after all, Chaeyoung had seen parts of you you hadn’t even seen, but there was no worse embarrassment than having your homegirls see your clown of a boyfriend’s ridiculousness. “He’s so romantic,” she swoons, and you shoo her away from the offending device as you wipe your hands down on your t-shirt.

you for what?? One 20 second round 🤥

Chaeyoung suddenly cackles from over your shoulder, and you swear your soul leaves your body.

You don’t get a response until exactly five hours and thirteen minutes later, your phone vibrating like crazy on the edge of your bathtub, and if you hadn’t given it a hearty kick and sent it flying across the room, front screen shattering into the most intricate spider web of glass shards, it would have fallen into the water. The terror.

kook pls pick me up

kook also haha. U r soooo funny 😑

You’re halfway to the airport, idly sitting in traffic and giving the public a free, Beyonce-like experience of The Script’s Breakeven, when you realize you’re not wearing any pants. You’re not exactly sure which part of Jungkook’s long t-shirt had tricked you into believing you were decently dressed, but you’re not too mad. After all, Jungkook’s trip with the boys had been a last minute decision that did not take into consideration your never-ending thirst for your boyfriend, so a little payback never hurt anybody.

He’s sitting on top of his suitcase outside the airport when you get there, cute Birkenstock-clad feet swinging back and forth as he waits for you like the good boy he is. He crouches down by the passenger window, “Uh, yeah, is this the Uber?”

You can’t even bother hiding the smile that consumes your face, and it only grows tenfold when he finally gets in and immediately leans over the center console to kiss you. “Look who’s finally back from their little bachelor party,” you murmur, eyes lidded dangerously low when he breaks away.

“Oh, the party where I accidentally sleep away my life-savings to a stripper named Aries and then have to go home and beg for my wife’s forgiveness?” He responds immediately, devious pink tongue swiping out to lick at your bottom lip.

You snort. “Joke’s on you, because our hot pool boy kept me company and treated me better in four days than my husband had in six years,” you mumble, finger looping into the silver chain around his neck to pull him close again.

“Not our hot pool boy,” he whines, smile pressed adorably to your lips.

You almost retort, but a ten-second horn blast from the car behind you has the two of you jumping three feet from each other, like teenagers caught making out in the school parking lot.

Just as you’d predicted via text, Jungkook barely has the energy to walk up the steps to your apartment, much less fuck you like he’d promised. “Fuck, stop being healthy and let us take the elevator,” he grunts, pushing his suitcase onto the final platform leading to your floor.

“Nope,” you concede. “The stairs give me a good view of your ass going up.”

He shoots you a scandalized look, like you’re an old man who’d just catcalled him on the street. “Pretty sure that’s my line.”

It’s when you’re unlocking the front door, sending out a little prayer to the heavens (Chaeyoung) for the blessing of an empty apartment, that he notices your lack of proper clothing. “Oh, hell no,” he groans, immediately crowding you against the armchair nearest the door.

You laugh, struggling to turn to face him as he nuzzles his face into your neck. “What seems to be the problem?”

He sighs against the shell of your ear, and you’d be a liar to say it didn’t send a gush of wetness to your core. Jesus, just a single puff of air from Jungkook was enough to turn your coochie into a Fruit Gusher. “Not your sexy legs again,” he whines, and you giggle when he presses those pouty lips to yours.

“Thought I was supposed to have this pussy ready for you,” you tease, tilting your head up until your noses brush against each other. Jungkook lets a soft huff of a sigh go, eyes fluttering shut at your close proximity.

There’s a hand that creeps along the back of your thigh, fingers pressing into the soft skin until he finally guides it upwards, hitched over his hip. The new position has your body curving backwards, tilted over the edge of the couch as he continues crowding closer and closer to you. “Baby,” he whines, and the tone and sudden usage of your favorite nickname wipes the teasing smile off your face. “I missed you so much,” he purrs, in that tone that says he knows he has you under his complete control, all he has to do is take care of you.

Still, you try to put up some sort of a fight. “I’m sure your eyes were kept entertained in Vegas,” you retort weakly, not even bothering to hide the jealousy in your tone.

Jungkook laughs, before puckering his lips and smothering you. Instantly, you throw your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him closer. His hair tickles your face from how long it’s gotten, and when you brush it back, collecting it into a makeshift baby ponytail, you can’t even enjoy the sight because Jungkook is pressing his rock hard member against your inner thigh.

“You think I’m a cheater?” He muses when he finally pulls away, a little entranced by the saliva that coats your lips in a thin sheen. “Couldn’t be even if I wanted to.” Before you can ask what that even means, he’s hauling you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his tiny waist, his cock now cradled between your thighs, right where you want him most. You moan immediately, head lolling backwards at the touch you’d craved for days. “Feel that? No one gets my dick hard like you do, baby.”

Even though his adrenaline is on one hundred, and he’s clearly blinded by his lust, Jungkook still sets you down on the bed like you’re made of glass. Any comments you may have made are smothered by his lips on yours, fingers gripping your waist like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you. When he pulls away, his eyes are dark and his breath is a little heavy where it fans against the lower half of your face.

“So pretty,” he huffs, rolling his hips against yours. You groan, eyes rolling back as the familiar feeling of your boyfriend between your legs consumes you. Jungkook presses his mouth against the skin of your neck, where the faintest sheen of sweat had begun to form the moment you unlocked the front door.

If you thought you were loud, the sounds leaving Jungkook’s throat are teetering on the edge between a pornstar and a yodelling-enthusiast. You can’t help the smirk crossing your features. “Are you really gonna come?”

Jungkook was many things, and drama queen was definitely very high on that list. He gives you the most scandalized expression, stopping the movement of his hips to scoff. “As if,” he snorts, but you know that little eyebrow furrow a little too well.

You snort, reaching down to his sides as you try to discreetly urge him to start up again. “Baby, your jaw is twitching,” you point out, a soft whine leaving your lips when he shifts your leg up. It’s this same sound that has him finally moving again.

“Yeah, well,” he groans, one hand deathly gripping into your hip now, pressing you down onto the bed so hard you feel the comforter will swallow you up any minute now. “I just got my wisdom teeth removed, ‘member?”

Your retort is briefly cut off by the cry you let out when he ducks down to suck a mark beneath your jaw. “M-Months ago,” you weakly respond,

Jungkook ignores you in favor of using his Hulk strength to fold you in half, groans borderline animalistic as he grinds his cock into your soaked panties. His jaw is tight like you’d said, but you can tell he’s holding himself back. He hated coming before you, seldom doing it unless it was one of those rare days where he wanted you to pamper him.

“Fuck,” he grunts, swallowing your pitiful whines before pushing his tongue down your throat. There was something sexy about your boyfriend being so turned on that his saliva production was off the charts. “You’re gonna ask me to do that thing again, aren’t you?” He predicts.

All you can do is nod, and Jungkook smirks. “Ah,” he says, much like a doctor would, and you comply, mouth wide. You see the muscles beneath his jaw twitch, and a moment later he’s leaning over you with puckered lips, a glob of saliva begging to drip down.

The moan that catches in your throat has him smiling, tongue peeking out to cut the bridge of saliva that connected the two of you, and you want to tell him you love him, but then he’s raising his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to swallow, so you do. “Absolutely filthy,” he grins, and then returns to thrusting against you.

As much as you liked to tease him, he’s good at fulfilling the sexual aspects of his boyfriend role, and he guides you to your orgasm moments later. Of course, he does so by toying with your tits just the way you like, lips pressed firmly to yours as you become a boneless heap beneath him. “That’s it, pretty baby,” he murmurs, pressing one final kiss to your lips before he’s shifting back onto his haunches, tugging you closer until the backs of your knees are cradled carefully in his elbows.

Despite your transcended state, you love watching Jungkook get himself off, and your eyes flutter as you watch him thrust sloppily against your soiled panties. They’re soaked by your own arousal, and had Jungkook’s sweats not been as dark as they were, you’re almost certain you’d see how they stained.

He comes a moment later, body twitching and fingers tightening against your skin. His chest heaves, head lolling back as he tries to regain his senses. Silence envelopes the room.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You blurt, no longer able to pretend like something isn’t completely wrong.

Jungkook rolls his neck out, a satisfying crack resounding, as he angles to look at you again. His tongue is poking against his cheek in that cocky way it does sometimes, and he furrows his brows at you. “What?”

You shuffle up onto your elbows, motioning towards him with the vaguest wave possible. He blinks. You groan.

“What did you do?” You question, and immediately his eyes go wide and shiny in that way they do when you’re reprimanding him and he doesn’t see the wrong in his ways.

Cute little lips forming a pout he remains as confused. “Nothing? We really just went to fuck around and get drunk—“

“Kook.”

“You don’t actually think I cheated, I thought we were just joking? Unless…” he trails off, doe eyes suddenly filled with fear. “You weren’t?”

“Jungkook—“

He intercepts you, “did you do something while I was gone? Who was he? Or she? Wow,” he huffs to himself in disbelief. “I don’t even know you well enough to know if you’re into more than just men.” The frown on his face is getting deeper with each word he utters and you almost can’t believe how dumb he could be. “No wonder… am I a terrible boyfriend?” He asks, voice louder and more concerned than it’s been all night.

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” You say, and Jungkook looks just as lost by your response as you are with his. “Because I’m talking about whatever this is,” you explain, reaching up to drag a hand through his dual-colored locks.

They’d been carefully tucked under his bucket hat when you’d picked him up, a tuft of blonde peeking out from in front of his ear. It wasn’t until he’d tipped you over the side of the couch that it had tumbled off. Of course, at the time, there had been other pressing matters at hand than wondering why your Hannah Montana blonde boyfriend had returned as Todoroki, which is why you’d waited until now to revisit the topic.

Jungkook doesn’t move for a solid ten seconds. Then, as if processing the emotional episode he’d just given you, he gives you a sheepish smile. It’s one of those smiles where his lips press together thinly and cutely and the apples of his cheeks seem like the squishiest things in the world. “Oh…” he says, voice soft and nothing like the man that spit in your mouth five minutes ago. “You like it?”

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #kpopwonderlandtag #ksmutclub #bts smut #jjk smut #mine #what did i even use to tag with lolol #sc universe #skirtverse #skirtfic

1K notes · View notes