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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

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First Chanukah Together (Night 8) | Ari Levinson x reader

summary: Ari gives you an unexpected Chanukah present

word count: 1811

warnings: smut (with some overstimulation and a very slight housewife kink?), fluff… overall just pure self-indulgence my friends

You couldn’t imagine a better way to spend an evening than cuddled up with Ari on the couch, drinking hot cocoa with marshmallows, each of you reading your respective books (even though you were sort of struggling to focus on it with the weight of his arm around you).

As his hand rested on your thigh, his thumb gently stroked back and forth, barely moving but making you smile to yourself at the subtle contact. Another sip of cocoa warmed your chest before you set the mug aside along with your book, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's thick torso.

"Hi beautiful," he greeted softly, setting his book down as well to hug you back. "Wanna move to the bedroom? I have something to show you."

"Ari, if you wanna have sex you can just say so—"

"No," he laughed. "Well, I mean, yeah but that's not what I was talking about."

"Oh," you sat up, "okay. What is it then?"

"I'll tell you in a second, okay, just come with me," he instructed as he got up, keeping your hand in his as you trailed behind him.

When you reached the bedroom, taking a quick look around to see if any obvious surprise was waiting, he turned to face you with a smile on his face.

“I know we didn’t really do presents this year," he explained, "but I got you something anyways.”

“Ari,” you smiled shyly, “you didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“I didn’t get you anything!” you protested. “I wish I had a present to give you.”

“Your present to me can be saying yes,” he suggested as he pulled the small velvet box from his back pocket and knelt down onto one knee.

“Ari…” you whispered, too shocked to say anything else. He grabbed your hands and clutched them with his own as he looked up at you.

“I know it’s soon, and a little sudden,” he sighed, “but being with you— it’s like a dream come true, really. You make every day so special and after spending my first Chanukah with you, I can’t imagine spending another with anybody else. I didn’t even know how happy I could be until I met you, and if you let me, I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you that happy.”

You were speechless as you tried to process all this, watching him open the box to reveal a ring, the details of which you were unable to notice, opting instead to look at his face— his eyes sparkled brighter than the diamond, anyhow.

“Marry me?” he offered, almost sounding nervous, as if there was any chance you’d say no.

“Of course,” you nodded, “Ari— yes, I— yes!”

He grinned, maybe wider than you’d ever seen him smile, as he slipped the ring on your finger, standing up and pulling you into a tight hug.

"When did you—? How did you—? What?!" you stammered as you laughed.

"I got it yesterday, and I just couldn't wait any longer," he explained as he looked down at you, his own eyes watering a little. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you answered softly. "Why did we have to come to the bedroom to do this?"

"So I could give you your engagement present," he grinned as he picked you up and tossed you onto the bed.

You yelped in surprise but happily let him tug at your jeans, lifting your hips so he could pull them down and toss them aside. Next was your sweater, and he'd barely gotten it over your head before he was kissing you again, grabbing your tits in his big hands, slipping his tongue between your lips.

"Please," you whimpered against his mouth.

"Whaddya want, pretty girl?" he asked quietly.

"Get naked," you pleaded as you tugged at his shirt, making him laugh a little.

"Alright," he agreed as he reached down to open his belt, that clinking sound of metal on metal making your hips wiggle instinctively. You were too busy staring at where his cock threatened to pop right out of his boxers to watch him unbutton and toss aside his shirt, or to notice as he leaned in to capture your lips with his again, his hand cupping your jaw and holding you close. You felt his necklace brush against your skin as he laid you down on your back, his body swallowing yours as he wrapped his arms around you.

You could feel his cock (still clothed, aggravatingly) pressing between your legs when you arched your back, making you moan while he lightly bit down on your bottom lip. "Please fuck me," you sighed, quiet but certainly audible as he grinned deviously.

"I love when you get desperate," he taunted, moving down to kiss your neck as his hands explored your body, stopping on their way to tease your nipples lightly.

"Fuck, Ari," you shivered.

"Beg a little more and maybe I'll put this cock in you, hm?" he teased, smiling against your shoulder before giving it a gentle bite.

"Ari, baby, please," you sighed. "Need you so much… want your come in me, please."

"You're getting there," he encouraged.

"I can't believe you're gonna be my husband," you smiled breathlessly as you tried to process the realization. "I wanna be your wife so bad."

That certainly got his attention as he moved back up to kiss your lips again, much more intense and dominating than you expected. "You're gonna make the perfect wife," he groaned, "with the way you open your legs up for me all the damn time."

You breathed in through your teeth as he pushed his boxers down, guiding his cock over your folds to find them completely soaked.

"I didn't know I was so conventional," he admitted, " but the idea of a pretty little wife waiting for me at home, wet and ready whenever I want… fuck, you're too good to me."

You moaned as he pushed into you, your head falling back onto the pillow. He liked to watch your face when he went in all the way, memorize your expression: overwhelmed with pleasure, just the slightest hint of pain twisting your brow as he stretched you open. Still, he waited for your nod of encouragement before moving, your lips falling slack as his cock dragged against your walls just right. "Ari," you whimpered, clutching his shoulders, "you feel so good inside me, fuck…"

He already knew exactly how to take you apart, and he was clearly making sure you knew it with the way he pumped his cock right against your spot, rubbing your clit with his calloused thumb. Your grip on his arms tightened, as did your grip somewhere a little more personal. "You like that?" he prompted.

"Yes," you agreed fervently, "right there, fuck."

He kept up his pace, not quite speeding up yet but slamming into you a little harder, hitting a little deeper.

"Fuck," you cried when he pushed so deep inside you that you saw stars.

"Yeah, that's how you want it, right? Want me to fill you up all the way, til there's none of you left?"

You were totally speechless, all you could do was nod and whine as he sped up the circles he was drawing on your clit. He played your body like an instrument, finding every spot until you were sobbing and begging incoherently. "Don't stop," you managed to get out between gasps.

"Not gonna stop, wanna feel you come on my cock," he purred against your ear, his deep voice sending shivers up your spine.

"Fuck, won't be much longer then," you laughed breathlessly. "God, you're so fucking good…"

"I know you love it so much," he grunted, "go ahead and make a mess for me baby, come for me…"

He was coaxing you through it but his words were distant and fuzzy as pleasure made your thoughts cloudy and your eyes heavy. Heat washed over you and you melted into him, your body tensing up all over before suddenly releasing and going limp beneath him.

"Yeah, just like that, fuck," he grunted, thrusting faster into your overstimulated body. "Look so pretty when you come… and you get so fuckin' wet, you hear that?"

How could you not hear the loud squelching noise that filled the room as he fucked you? You could feel wetness coating the inside of your thighs, too, and probably making a wet patch underneath you on the bed.

"Think you can do it again, pretty baby? I wanna see you come again."

"Ari," you pleaded with a whimper.

"I bet it won't take you long if I touch you like this," he posited, moving his thumb in quick swipes over your clit in the exact way that made your thigh shake uncontrollably.

"Ffffuck," you shuddered, trying to push his hand away only to have your wrists caught in his grip and held above your head. Funny how being helpless to him made you moan instantly, arching your back as your nipples hardened suddenly.

"Oh, you like it when I remind you that I'm so much stronger than you," he grinned. "Want me to have my way with you, little wifey?"

"Please," you whined as you bit down on your lip. He slammed into you again, hard and fast with just the right balance of brutality versus tenderness; and he was right, your second orgasm was well on its way, in part because the first one hadn't ever really finished.

"Want me to fill you up with my come? I'm close," he grunted his warning.

"Yes, want it in me, please," you moaned, shifting your hips so he could more easily fill you to the brim. He wasn't always the most vocal in bed (certainly very talkative, but often suppressing his sounds to just labored breathing) but something was different about tonight— he was making the most beautifully addictive sounds with every thrust, staring down at you with a darkness tinting his blue eyes. Just as the second wave really hit you hard, he came with a moan of your name, each hot rope of his come inside you accented with a pulse as the base of his cock, making you shiver and wrap your legs around him. You were so out of it from the intensity of your pleasure that you floated somewhere between sleep and consciousness as he pulled you closer, cradling you in his arms and planting a few soft kisses on your neck and cheek.

"I love you," you mumbled into his chest through the thick fog in your mind.

"I love you too," he returned, his words clearly moving through a smile.

That was the last night of your first Chanukah with Ari. And to think you were worried it wouldn't be special.

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson x you #ari levinson fluff #ari levinson smut

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bcbdrums · 4 years

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Five Kisses Under the Mistletoe

This fic is exactly as the title says. Please enjoy this glimpse at five Christmases shared by Drakken and Shego, from the first year they worked together to their first Christmas post-canon. This fanfic contains MAJOR SPOILERS for my long fic, There’s Christmas—and Christmas. If you've not read that fic, I highly recommend doing so first, because literally everything from that fic is spoiled in this one.

Recall from canon that Drakken pretends to be a radio psychiatrist to hide his villainy from his mother. This fic also answers @drakgoprompts prompt for mistletoe. Enjoy!

FFn AO3

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Five Kisses Under the Mistletoe

Christmas, 2003 — The Caribbean Lair

Drakken stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans with a satisfied grin, stepping back to view the newly trimmed tree from every angle. The fresh scent of the Douglas fir permeated his being, and he sighed happily as he nodded at what was looking to be a perfect Christmas tree. He stepped back to the pile of boughs he had made and began to assess where to place them to further decorate the den for the coming holiday festivities.

He was startled suddenly at the sound of footfalls that were finally becoming familiar, and he turned just as his new side-kick walked through the door. She halted with wide eyes and took in the changes to the den as he grinned with nervous excitement and approached her. After scrutinizing the decor her eyes finally fell to him, starting at his black boots and traveling up the casual jeans and shirt-sleeves he had donned as he had declared the holidays would be a break from villainy.

He slowed his approach as something in her eyes made him suddenly nervous. Her face had colored slightly and she looked....put off, somehow. He opened his mouth to wish her a Merry Christmas, but as he drew breath she cut him off.

"Dr. Drakken...what's all this?" she asked with an air of disdain.

"I..." He was further confused by her growing unease and he cleared his throat and blinked several times to refocus. "I'm decorating for Christmas."

Shego stared at him, her expression having gone blank. "You mean you're...staying here for Christmas? All alone?"

Drakken suddenly realized...he had assumed Shego would be staying too. He opened his mouth again, but she continued.

"Or are the henchmen staying for some kind of...evil get together, like that picnic you attempted?"

Drakken frowned lightly. The picnic had been fine...until Williams had thrown up on Brooks.

"No," he said with a slight pout, "they've all gone home to their families. But—"

"Wait... Did you...did you think I was staying here for Christmas?" Shego asked.

Drakken bit his lip and physically took a step back at her affront. He didn't think it was so horrible a thought, and he had assumed that she, like himself, would not have any family to go home to, villains that they were. She may only be a side-kick, but her impressive resume suggested she was in a similar situation to his own.

"Well..."

Anything he might have said next was interrupted by Shego's laughter. Drakken looked down at his boots and began twiddling his thumbs, his side-kick beginning what was becoming familiar mocking in between her roars of laughter.

"What, you thought we would...sit around the fire, and...drink hot chocolate and exchange gifts, and... Wait, is that mistletoe?"

She had turned her gaze upward to where the green sprig with white berries hung above the doorway that the pair now stood on either side of. Her face flushed again, and anger entered her eyes.

"So the henchmen are all gone, and you thought what exactly?" she asked, leveling her fiery green gaze at him.

Drakken took another step back and waved his hands in innocence. "I didn't— I wasn't— It's only because—"

"What, so does working for you have additional expectations that weren't in the contract or something?"

"No! I—"

"Ugh, I cannot believe you! It's not just that you think I don't have something better to do than spend Christmas with my boss, but the fact that you actually hung mistletoe!? What, did you think somehow someone like me would actually—"

Drakken cut her off quickly by closing the distance between them in two large steps and grabbing her shoulders. Her words ended in a choked gasp, and her face flushed again as she stared up at his frustrated visage. He felt a sudden rush of panic as he realized what he'd done, but his impulsive act had effectively limited his choices to more severe mocking, probable pain, and the potential loss of his side-kick...or...

Drakken brought his lips down to Shego's and kissed her powerfully, his heart racing. And then, for a moment...bliss. Her lips were like heaven against his, until suddenly they were left cold and his chest felt like he'd just been hit by a truck. Of course, it was the green blast Shego had hit him with, knocking him back against a chair where he crumpled to the floor.

He didn't get to see her face as she retreated, she'd spun around so fast. But as he lay on the floor in shock and listened to her departing steps until they went silent, he couldn't help the feeling of warmth that flooded his chest.

Things might not have gone as he'd planned...but he decided, as long as Shego didn't quit...it was a good Christmas after all.

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Christmas, 2004 — The North Pole

Shego sat staring down at the remains of a very watery, formerly hot chocolate while seated inside what she had learned was the garbage container (impact-resistant, of course) from the failed Drak-Force One. That explained the smell... Having learned this fact after what had passed for 'Christmas dinner,' she had decided it was best not to ask where the food and drinks had come from.

She had foregone most of the singing, which the Possibles happily joined in on as Stoppable was co-leading the festivities with Drakken. But the twin boys had lost interest fairly quickly and were watching highlight reels of that extreme snow sports event on Possible's little hand-held device. Shego wondered idly if the two gave Possible as much trouble as her own twin brothers had growing up.

Drakken and Stoppable were still arm in arm as they sang, Possible seeming content to sing with them, while her parents were half-participating and half-seeming to be attempting to find a way out of the situation. Shego could think of a number of ways to end the extremely awkward truce that had been struck, but the first several on the list began with violence... She felt strangely obligated to keep the peace for Drakken's sake, all of the day's events considered. He had paid for her vacation after all...

As she was contemplating the few options she could think of that lacked violence, she noticed Possible suddenly narrow her eyes in mischief and begin staring at Stoppable. Shego looked between the pair and tried to figure out their silent communication. What on Earth could the teenaged thorn in her side be thinking? Surely she wasn't planning some trick to escape the awkward festivities...

Suddenly Stoppable's singing ceased, and Shego caught sight of his wily grin just before he elbowed Drakken a few times to get his attention and then pushed him in her direction.

"Oh, look who's under the mistletoe now!" the blond boy sang out giddily.

Shego's eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she looked up at the piece of parsley that she was inexplicably seated directly beneath. She stood up in alarm, but then she caught sight of Drakken's horrified face and something in her relaxed. He wasn't going to do it...

The memory of the prior year's unexpected kiss had rushed back to her, but with the fear of a repeat having faded at his terror-stricken expression she recalled...just how good a kisser her boss actually was. She bit the inside of her cheek as part of her mind told her that a mutual innocent and totally platonic kiss wouldn't be such a horrible thing after all. She took a breath and was about to voice the thought, when...

"Go on Drew," the voice of James Possible sounded, and Shego turned back to where Drakken's old schoolmate stood next to his wife, his arm around her waist and a devilish look on his face. "Let's see you kiss a girl under the mistletoe."

Shego's brow furrowed slightly. She didn't really know the history between the two former friends, but she did know it wasn't a good one. She set her jaw and turned with resolve, but she had barely made eye contact with Drakken before he was all but sprinting through the exit hatch.

"Well this has been lovely, we must do it again sometime!" he called without even a backwards glance. And with that, he was gone.

Shego blinked as she realized all eyes in the dimly-lit container had turned to her. She scowled and tossed her drink on the fire as she stalked out after Drakken. Knowing him, he would get lost in the snow and run into that polar bear... And she had parked her hover-car a fair ways away.

"Shego, what—"

Shego cut Possible off with a cold glance over her shoulder.

"Merry Christmas," she bit out more harshly than was probably warranted. "Truce ends tomorrow, unless you want it to end now."

She lit up her hands in warning, but didn't wait to see the teen's reaction as she left the compartment and began following her boss's footprints through the snow. As the wind whipped against her face the spell of the evening was broken, and her thoughts drifted back to the beach and all the things she would do the next day when she got back after depositing Drakken at the lair. And yet, creeping through her thoughts was the memory of Drakken's frightened reaction when she had turned intending to kiss him. And disturbingly, her own reaction of disappointment.

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Christmas, 2005 — The Spider Lair (Steal Wheels; Rappin' Drakken)

"But Drewbie, I don't understand why you aren't decorating this year."

Shego eyed her blue-skinned boss as he skulked around the lab equipment, trying to evade his mother who had showed up unexpectedly—again—and was following her son around with numerous questions about his lack of holiday decor. As it was still a week until Christmas, Shego didn't see the big deal. Unless of course, Drakken came from the type of family that treated the entire month like one long holiday... She herself had never had such an experience.

"I'm going to be working through Christmas this year, Mother. That's all," Drakken explained, continuing to try to avoid the woman.

"Oh but surely you can do a few things to make it more festive around here. There's more than enough room for a tree, a nice wreath on the door..."

Shego watched the changing expressions on Drakken's face that indicated both his internal struggle and his frustration with his mother's presence. For her part, the green-skinned villainess was enjoying the display. It had been some time since Drakken's mother had showed up, and the only chaos she had brought with her this time seemed to be her very loud opinions about how her son spent the season.

"Nyeghn... Mother, how about I just hang a wreath on the door? And, look, lights!" he said, pushing a button on one of the lab control consoles. Various red, green, and white lights began flashing in sequence. Shego pursed her lips and nodded approvingly at the coincidence.

"Oh, but dear..."

Shego watched as the woman turned away from her son for a moment, to his relief—his entire being seemed to decompress—and stepped over to the large carpet bag she had brought in the way of luggage.

"You really should have a tree, and some mistletoe..."

Shego blanched and she swallowed nervously, not daring to glance at Drakken. She wondered what on Earth the odds were as the older woman began producing holiday decor from her bag. Words were exchanged between Drakken and his mother, but Shego didn't hear them as she watched a wreath, a box of glass icicles, a mass of candy canes with a large spool of ribbon, and indeed...mistletoe...being laid out across Drakken's work-bench.

She turned and left the great room of the lab, crossing her arms as she walked down the curved hallway of the lair toward her bedroom. It crossed her mind that it was probably time to move lairs, since Drakken's mother had visited that one twice now in less than six months. But more central to her thoughts was wondering whether or not she would return later to find the lab decorated as she had the first year she had worked for Drakken.

In all likelihood it would be even more festive, given the way he had decorated the garbage container at the North Pole the prior year. And considering the importance his mother seemed to put on appearance...Shego wasn't sure she wanted to return to the lab later at all.

After reaching her room, she changed into a bathing suit and flopped onto her tanning bed. She put her sunglasses on and flipped the switch to turn on her heat lamp. It was only December eighteenth... She realized that decorations aside, the higher priority was going to be making sure Drakken's mother didn't decide to make herself at home in the lair. Or else, she would be starting her beach vacation early that year.

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When Shego decided to brave the lab hours later there was ample evidence of the two Lipskys' presence, though they weren't there at the moment. A modest tree took up one bare corner, decorated with red glass baubles, candy canes tied with red ribbon, glass icicles, and what appeared to be glittery plastic snowflakes. An actual string of Christmas lights was now wrapped around a fake garland and hung up around the focusing laser. Shego shook her head, not even bothering to take in the rest of the decor that had somehow appeared.

She was turning to go back to her room to pack, when the front door of the lair slid open.

"...Yes Mother, it's all very festive now. So...w-when does your flight leave?"

"Why Drew, it sounds like you want me to go away, Son!"

"N-No, o-...of course not Mother! But I still have a lot of work to do and as I said...I'll be very busy this holiday season."

Shego smirked as she watched the pair descend the stairs, Drakken's arms laden with brown shopping bags and his mother holding only one small plastic one.

"Oh but Drew, you have to take time off! It's not healthy."

Shego shifted her weight to the side and recrossed her arms as she watched Drakken's discomfort. She did feel for him, but there was just too much opportunity for entertainment in the present circumstance.

"Yeah Dr. D. Some time off might do something about that bulging vein in your forehead. Get out of the...office, and take a vacation."

Both Lipskys stared at her, Drakken's face morphing from confusion into a scowl while his mother's bloomed into an excited grin. Her bag was dropped on the work-bench as her hands balled into excited fists beneath her chin.

"Oh Drewbie, you could come home for the holidays!"

"N-N-Now, Mother..."

"Oh, it will be just like old times!"

"No I, I'm afraid it's impossible!" Drakken insisted probably too harshly. His mother's face fell, and he adopted an obviously fake but gentle smile. "I have too many patients in...very critical condition who cannot be left alone for that length of time."

Mrs. Lipsky's brows knitted as she considered. "Since you treat them over the phone, couldn't you work from home?"

"No, Mother! I...I need everything I have here at the office, and I need Shego's assistance," he said, moving to stand slightly behind Shego as soon as his bags had been deposited on the floor.

Shego glanced back at him with a smirk, and his eyes darkened briefly in annoyance before he was nodding at his mother with greater assurance now. Shego's grin broadened.

"But Dr. D., I'm going to the Bahamas for the holidays, remember?" she reminded him.

Drakken visibly startled and looked at her with such a rapid flurry of emotions that she couldn't keep up with them. Her smirk grew, and she was about to encourage the trip to his mother's when the woman spoke up.

"Oh! Look who's under the mistletoe!"

It was Shego's turn to startle as she peered upward and saw that in fact, the mistletoe had been hung and she and Drakken were directly beneath it. Her eyes narrowed and Drakken recoiled a step, but at his reaction she forced away her scowl and smirked at him in challenge. If anything was to get his mother out of the lair, and probably earn her an earlier start to her tropical vacation, it was this very threat. She raised her brow in anticipation and stared directly at Drakken.

For his part, his face had fallen to total confusion and he seemed to want to speak for the way his lips trembled but was unable to find the words.

"Drewbie!" Mama Lipsky's loud whisper called across the short distance toward her son. "What are you waiting for?"

Drakken looked anxiously between his mother and and Shego, his uncertainty growing.

"I... But..."

"You told me she was single. Now's your chance!"

Shego wanted to question the conversation that had clearly been had about her while the small family was out shopping, but she was more interested in seeing whether or not Drakken would run like the last time, or simply make an excuse. Her smirk broadened as she watched him begin to sweat and his brow begin to darken.

"M-Mother..."

"Be a man and make a move!" his mother said in her loud whisper.

Shego closed her eyes as she struggled to suppress her laughter. She could see the golden sands of the resort already as she listened to Drakken's frustrated growl. And then...

The softest of pecks caused her eyes to shoot open just as Drakken's lips left her cheek. She vaguely took in his mother's delighted expression, but her face was flushing too quickly. She couldn't help but glance at Drakken and saw he was equally flustered, his eyes deep pools of worry. Unable to blink away her own unease, she turned and strode rapidly out of the lab, needing an escape.

"See, Drewbie? She likes you!"

"N-No, Mother..." Drakken's voice was weary and disturbed.

"Didn't you see the way she blushed?"

"I'm lucky she didn't blast me."

"Blast you? What do you mean?"

Their voices faded as Shego quickened her pace, the flush on her face having become a warmth spreading to every nerve ending. Why hadn't she blasted him?

The sunny beaches suddenly didn't appeal to her, and she in fact wished for a colder climate and the stereotypical 'white Christmas' to cool the fire that was swirling disturbingly within her. Lacking that, she decided a cool shower would have to do.

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Christmas 2006 — The Caribbean

Drakken hung back slightly as he nervously surveyed the scene in the private living area he and Shego shared in the lair. It was far from private that evening with nearly every henchman he employed being in attendance at the Christmas party before departing to spend the holidays with their families. Considering how many months of that year had been lost, spent between jail, rebuilding his favored lair, recovering his health, and finding a new relational balance with his side-kick—something he would forever be a bit concerned about—it had in fact been a decent year. Nearly all of his former henchmen had returned to work for him, and while evil had been slow, profits had still been high. He wondered how many of the men had chosen to attend the party due to the Christmas bonuses he had paid them all at the beginning of that week.

"Hey Dr. D., why don't we have a piano in here?" Shego called drunkenly across the room.

Drakken grimaced. Shego was far from the only person inebriated, but he didn't like seeing her that way. Especially considering that it was less than half a year ago that she hadn't wanted anything to do with him. She was still a wild card in his mind, and the thought made his chest ache as there was no one he had trusted more in the past. And no one he wanted to trust more, now...

About five of the henchmen had begun a rousing rendition of 'Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,' leaving Drakken wondering how many of his employees might be religious and also just how much eggnog and other spirits they had consumed to be swaying near the Christmas tree, arms wrapped around one another, and veritably pouring emotion from their souls.

'We. She said we...' Drakken mused to himself, replaying Shego's question to him in his mind. Was it a slip of the tongue? Or was she really through being angry with him over the events of the first half of the year? Did she really view them as a 'we' again, pursuing evil together... He hadn't even realized at what point he had begun to think of them that way, but it was abundantly clear that he had... And something deep inside of him desperately wanted to again.

Lacking a piano, one of the henchmen had taken matters into his own hands and grabbed the small radio Drakken kept near the TV. The staticky sounds were turned up loud, and for several seconds, strains of 'Let It Snow' from the FM conflicted with the traditional hymn the henchmen were still crooning together out of tune. Before long most of the crowd had switched over to sing along with the accompanied song, while three still clung to one another and belted out the majestic proclamation next to the tree.

Shego's cackle suddenly arrested Drakken's attention, and he watched uneasily as she downed another glass of eggnog and then perched up atop the old TV that was playing some black-and-white special. She had a good voice, he noted, as she sang along loudly... But Drakken couldn't really listen as he cast his eyes over the rest of the room to where the majority of the men, not intoxicated in the slightest, were watching her with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.

He grimaced. He knew none of them would dare act upon any secret thought in the moment... If they did they'd be blasted by Shego faster than he could terminate their contracts. But he was more concerned about the gossip that would come after the night's festivities. He took a small sip from his own brandy-laced eggnog and began mentally calculating how much he could afford to pay each of them in yet another bonus just to buy their silence over the evening.

His concentration was broken as Henchman Welch, a man who didn't drink, sidled up to him then, his eyes locked on the green-skinned woman.

"Now, Dr. Drakken..." The man's voice was sly, and Drakken frowned. "I have my limits on evil, as most of us do. But my missus always wants to know about all the goings-on here at work... And she's got a lot of friends in influential places..."

"Two-hundred," Drakken said, cutting the man off. He forced himself to breathe evenly as he stared the man down.

Welch smirked. "And can I spread that around to the rest of the boys?"

Drakken sighed internally as he nodded. "You can also tell them that the trans-dimensional vortex inducer is the alternative, if anyone thinks about asking for more."

The cold gaze he leveled at the man seemed to do the trick as Welch visibly recoiled. The henchman nodded in understanding before walking away to speak to another man leaning against the back of the sofa.

Drakken's eyes drifted back to Shego and widened suddenly as he realized she was approaching him. Henchmen parted the way for her as she moved with purpose, stepping over the coffee table only to bump into the sofa. She caught herself with her hands on its back and then beckoned him forward with one finger, a mischievous grin on her face. He felt a nervous twist in his gut as he pushed off the wall and started slowly toward her.

"Sing with me, Dr. D.!" she said merrily, reaching a hand out toward him, fingers grasping repeatedly at the air. He anxiously took in her blood-shot eyes beneath drooping eyelids, and the sway of her frame as she attempted to stand up straight. As he reached the back of the sofa he reached a hand out tentatively in response, but she ignored it as she lunged forward and took his eggnog from his other hand.

He only managed a mild sputter of protest as she downed the beverage in two quick gulps and spun around to set the empty glass on the coffee table. The henchman sitting on the sofa had backed into one corner and was smirking up devilishly at Drakken. He grimaced and wondered how quickly the word would spread of the extra incentive to keep quiet about the night...or else.

"'Should auld acquaintance be forgot~'" Shego was singing along with the radio, facing him and reaching forward with both hands this time. Drakken kept his stubbornly at his sides, but cleared his throat and sang along, to her apparent delight as she leaned across the sofa again to smile into his face as the song continued. Around them, most of the henchmen were singing too. Drakken hoped the drunken caroling would be the end limit on how far the party had escalated past the White Elephant gifts and cookies he had baked.

As the song ended Shego flopped down on the couch with an uncharacteristic giggle, her head dropping to the back of the sofa as she continued to look up at Drakken. Suddenly her eyes widened, and Drakken felt another swirl of unease as she rolled over in a very feline way that reminded him of incidents precipitated by a certain moodulator more than a year prior. Her expression was devious as she rose up to her knees on the sofa, running her fingers back through her hair to push it out of her face.

"Guess who's under the mistletoe," she said in a low voice that absolutely terrified him. Drakken barely had the chance to glance up to see the truth of it before her hands were digging into his shoulders. He gasped, and then her lips were on his in a way he had only ever felt in his wildest dreams. He stumbled and caught himself on the back of the sofa, staring without focus at her closed eyes as her arms wrapped around his neck, effectively trapping him in the surprise embrace.

The cheers and jeers of the henchmen kept him grounded to reality, and he could just see some of their faces beyond Shego's volume of hair. He rolled his eyes and felt an internal twist as he realized his bank account was about to get significantly smaller.

Shego's tongue seeking purchase between his lips suddenly set off every remaining alarm in his head, and with a great effort he pried her arms from around him and was able to push her off. He held her arms for fear of another attack as she smirked at him seductively, and for a moment he stared in stupefaction at the unexpected turn of events. Did Shego...did Shego...actually want him?

He wasn't able to go any further with that line of thought as the continued catcalls and lewd remarks from the henchmen surrounding them reminded him of the necessity to focus. He thought quickly, and as Shego began to lunge forward for another kiss, he dodged and leaned close to her ear, bringing his voice down to a whisper.

"Wait for me in my bedroom," he said.

He felt Shego tense within his grip, and then relax. He didn't dare look at her face as she slowly leaned out of his grasp, and he released her as she began walking around the sofa, stumbling slightly as she turned back toward him. Drakken stiffened as she leaned up against his side, keeping his gaze forward on the television as her gloved hand slid up the front of his lab coat.

"Don't be long," she said in a low voice. Every nerve in his body reacted in a mixture of heat and cold terror, and then she giggled again as she tripped lightly on her walk away, seemingly oblivious to the crowd around them. He glanced after her to make sure she was gone, and then looking back he jumped at the sight of too many eyes staring at him.

"F-Five hundred dollars for each of you to forget this entire night ever happened," he declared loudly, hoping his voice sounded stronger than it felt.

"Do we still get the other extra two hundred?" Welch called out.

"Yes," Drakken said with a scowl in the man's direction. "So an additional seven-hundred dollar bonus to what I already gave you, if you forget everything that occurred this evening."

A loud hum of agreement rose from the henchmen, but casting his eyes around he could see that many of the men were considering possible alternatives. He frowned.

"And if anyone gets any ideas...remember I can show Shego the security tape," he said, pointing to the camera up in the corner. The murmurs around him quieted. "She'll have very different ideas about how to ensure your silence."

The hush that fell over the room told Drakken that the threat had convinced them.

"When do we get the cash?" a man asked.

"Nnghn...I'll transfer it to each of your accounts tonight. G-Go on now, party's over!" Drakken declared.

The henchmen began filing out of the room, muttering various comments and questions amongst themselves as they went. As they left Drakken could see just how much physical damage they had done in the lair, with the amount plastic cups and empty bottles strewn about the room. Some of the decor had been disrupted as well, and he crossed the room with the intent to fix a fallen garland.

"Hey, Boss?"

Drakken glanced back to see Henchman Garth lingering in the doorway, the rest of the men having exited.

"Yes?" he ground out.

"Merry Christmas."

"...Merry Christmas."

When the man had vanished, Drakken looked back at the garland. He sighed as a great weariness suddenly hit him, and he snatched up the radio and turned it off in a hurry, slamming the device down too hard and then pressing the power button the TV with equally undue force.

He stalked back to the sofa, kicking a liquor bottle and some tinsel as he went, and after picking up one of the decorative pillows from the floor he fluffed it ineffectively and lay down. He didn't know how long it would take for the alcohol to knock Shego out, but he had no intention of being anywhere near her again until she was sober.

After a few minutes of discomfort and wondering how long he could rest before taking care of the henchmen's bribe, he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes which he realized he'd been holding tightly shut. It proved to be a mistake as he found himself staring up at the mistletoe, and the memory of Shego's passionate kiss flooded back to him in a rush.

Suddenly, he was assaulted with panic as all of his mistakes in that moment became eminently clear. Why hadn't he tried to push her away immediately? Why had he told her to go to his room? If he'd said hers, he could be sleeping comfortably in his own bed that night.

As his eyes lingered on the mistletoe, his thoughts fell to the kiss again, and he replayed the events a second time. He grimaced as he thought of the words he'd used to get her out of the situation, but then...his tired and slightly-tipsy mind leapt ahead to the state she might be in, waiting for him in his bed with the thoughts he had deliberately planted.

He rolled over again, pinching his eyes tightly shut as nausea swept through him. Every year, somehow, his attempt to celebrate Christmas ended in disaster.

'Never again,' he silently vowed as he forced away all thoughts of the soft, heavenly touch of green lips.

------------------------------

Christmas 2007 — The Caribbean

Shego sat at the kitchen table, leaned back in her chair and watching Drakken's furrowed brow as he finished packing away the few pieces of Christmas decor that had survived the fire. His dog, Admiral Cuddles, was happily wagging its tail while standing at Drakken's ankles, having moved on from the disaster Shego had escalated for no reason other than her own enjoyment. And given the stress of the days that had followed the fire, she felt entirely justified in the impulsive act.

Drakken sighed as he began wrapping tape around the cardboard box of knick-knacks, his brow still furrowed as it had been for the entire two weeks it had taken to get his mother to accept his chosen lifestyle and finally depart. Shego wondered at the logic in keeping any of the decorations at all, considering most of them had been bought for farce to convince Mama Lipsky during her visit that Drakken had embraced the hero persona that the media had saddled him with after the Lorwardian incident.

As Drakken finished taping the box, Shego's own brow furrowed as she realized something.

"Drakken..."

He looked up at her and his expression cleared slightly.

"You didn't hang any mistletoe this year," she stated, a hint of question in her tone.

Drakken's brow furrowed further. "It's always been a problem..." he muttered. "Although I...don't know how it could have made things any worse this year."

Shego smirked even as her brow twisted in concern. It had been a near-solid month of chaos and crisis, the joys countered with a new disaster at nearly every turn.

Admiral Cuddles, unable to get his master's attention, turned his focus to Shego. He jumped up on her legs where they were crossed, and she glanced at the dog thoughtfully. A small push with her foot got him down, but he remained at her side with a curious expression, tail wagging expectantly.

Her eyes lingered on the dog as she considered Drakken's words. In a flash, understanding came, and her expression fell to sympathy for a moment before she peered at Drakken again.

Shego pushed herself to her feet, the nausea that had been mild that morning suddenly sweeping over her along with a wash of dizziness. She leaned against the table, and Drakken, noticing her plight, abandoned his efforts to tape the box and hurried to her side. One of his hands held her elbow for support as his other found her hip. Shego grimaced against the waves of queasiness and tried to smile as she leaned gratefully into his touch, slight though it was. She held his arm tightly with one hand while her other moved to cover her abdomen in what was starting to become a habit.

"I wanted you to kiss me," she said plainly, her gaze resting unfocused on his chest.

"What?"

"Under the mistletoe... Every Christmas. I wanted you to kiss me," she admitted, looking up at him.

Drakken's brow furrowed ever-further. "You blasted me when I kissed you that first time."

Shego shifted her weight and her smile faded slightly. "You deserved it. As my boss...you had no business kissing me like that, mistletoe or not."

Drakken looked confused. "But then...the next two years..."

"You ran away when we were at the North Pole," she accused. "And then we had to fly all night in the snow to get back here. You should have just sucked it up and kissed me. I still don't get why you didn't."

Drakken's face morphed to anger and he snarled. "Because James Possible was just out to mock me! He wanted me to try to steal a kiss and then get blasted, just like what happened back in college when...when I got punched for trying it."

Shego's brow rose, and her expression became thoughtful.

"So...the next year when your mother was at the lair, and you kissed my cheek..."

"I just wanted to appease her, I— Wait... You...wanted me to kiss you?"

His eyes had grown wide with incredulity. Shego shrugged.

"Yeah. After seeing what a good kisser you were that first time... If I was ready for it, it could have been fun. But when your mother showed up uninvited...I was kind of just trying to make you uncomfortable."

Drakken frowned. "Why?"

Shego glanced away. "Little bit of revenge for running away the year before... And also for not kissing me back when Bortel's device was affecting me."

Drakken gawped at her. "That— You... But that would have been unethical!"

"Says the man who just spent two weeks convincing his mother why he's going to keep on being a villain," she said with a smirk.

Drakken growled slightly and looked away, his fingers pressing into her hip.

Shego took a step, guiding him to lean back against the kitchen counter where she leaned into him. Her arms rested around his neck as his settled around her waist, and she relished in the familiar feel of his fingers pressing gently into her flesh.

"I know you hung mistletoe last year but... I guess me getting drunk ruined that," she said, her face falling slightly. "I'd been thinking about a kiss ever since you decorated that week."

Drakken glanced away nervously. "Actually, ah..."

Shego raised a curious brow.

"We did kiss last year."

"We did...?" Shego asked. "But you said...I just passed out," she recalled, her brow furrowing even as her cheeks colored at the memory. Despite the very rational explanation he'd given her at the time, she would never forget how disturbing it had been to wake up naked and alone in her boss's bed with a hangover.

"B-Before that..." Drakken admitted. "You kissed me...in front of all the henchmen. I...sent you to my room to get you out of there, and then paid them for their silence."

Shego tried to remember, but her memories of that Christmas aside from waking up consisted only of a lot of alcohol and bad singing.

"The whole thing...kind of put me off of mistletoe," Drakken concluded, his voice having tensed as he clearly recalled events from the past Christmas differently than she did.

Shego leaned into Drakken more heavily as another wave of nausea hit her. His face fell to worry as he held her closer, but she looked up at him with a soft smile.

"Wish you'd hung it again this year..." she said thoughtfully. "We could have redeemed the past four years."

Drakken's brow furrowed in regret, but then he suddenly gasped and jumped slightly, forcing Shego to step out of his embrace. She understood soon enough as she saw the typically-suppressed vine mutation slither out from behind his neck. At their feet, Admiral Cuddles barked threateningly at the invader whilst backing away under the table in confusion.

"We haven't been doing your injections," Shego stated the obvious, one hand still on her abdomen as she braced herself against the table with the other.

"What's the point..." Drakken said with a heavy sigh. "It's never going to go away. It's too strong."

The discussion was halted before it could begin as they both stared in curiosity at the vine. The pink flower that guided it had pulled open the door of the refrigerator and was presently snaking inside.

"What, now it needs food too instead of just water and sunlight?" Shego quipped, though her brow had begun to twist in worry.

They were both left astonished when the pink flower emerged, a piece of parsley wrapped between a small coil of the vine, and then it moved to hover and dangle the parsley a couple of feet above Drakken's head. Shego looked between the plant and her husband-to-be's face as he peered up at the herb. His expression was unreadable. Shego pushed off the table and approached him again.

"So...you say this thing operates off of what your subconscious wants?" she asked with a smirk.

Drakken's only response was to roll his eyes and grumble, but his hands moved around her waist again as she snuggled against his chest. She struggled to withhold a hiss as greater nausea struck her, and Drakken held her tighter as his brow furrowed briefly in worry. But he shifted and she leaned away slightly to let one of his hands cover her abdomen. His expression had fallen into a soft smile, his eyes brimming with joy. Despite herself, she still blushed as she set one of her hands over his. She wondered when the awe over their baby growing inside her would fade, or if it ever would.

She smiled up at him and then glanced higher to where the vine was holding the parsley a bit lower. She smirked even as the flush in her cheeks intensified.

"Merry Christmas, Drakken," she whispered.

He brought his forehead down to rest lightly on hers, and the happiness in his eyes caused her entire being to flood with warmth.

"Merry Christmas, Shego," he answered softly. And they moved slowly in unison until finally their lips met in a long-awaited, loving, and picture-perfect kiss.

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cranehusbands · 4 years

Text

love, or lack thereof

pathfinder/wattson | natalie paquette; requited crushes; soulmate au; apex rarepair week; 1520 words

a/n: two for two, though this was posted a little later than yesterdays due to technical difficulties! sorry about that ^^;;

i have been really excited to write some wattfinder for a little while now, and this was the perfect opportunity to do so! we as a fandom need to treat them both as characters with their own autonomy and not infantilize them, and i think they could come to really understand each other! i wanted to show that through this fic, as well as throwing around the idea that soulmates aren’t always destiny - they’re people you find and bonds you forge through your own love and efforts. <3

once again for @apex-rarepairweek as the day 2 prompt, soulmates!

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

Preview: And then there was Pathfinder, the happy little MRVN unit that brought that home to her in a totally different way. Ever trusting, much like herself, expressive in himself but never losing that happy tone in his voice. He cared for his friends - his family - and talked of travel and dreams, but never really knowing who he was, or why he was here. But despite that, he carried on with that in stride, forever blind to the future. [...] He treated her with kindness and love, and it came to the point that sometimes she missed his company and high fives, though this was… a different kind of loneliness than that she had once experienced as a child, alienated from any other children that would pass through due to her intelligence and special position. She couldn’t quite place her finger on what it was, but there was just… something about Pathfinder that she didn’t want to lose, not for a moment.

Soulmates are found, not made.

That’s what she’s always been told. That she would find her soulmate, or they would find her, somehow, isolated in her work for the Syndicate, seemingly barricaded behind the ring she was trying to create. Natalie grew up with stories in her head, about how her papa met her mother, his soulmate, or stories of true love and happiness that was just… found. It was nice enough, but it never seemed logical, to her. Who was willing to take that chance? Couldn’t it go wrong? Even as a child that dreamed in fairytales, the idea of a soulmate always worried her. The mark on the inside of her wrist always haunted her, and she thought that she could not escape the inevitable.

But she wasn’t a child hiding in that shadow anymore - she was a grown woman, a professional electrical engineers, and an Apex Legend. She had lost her father so suddenly, but gained her new family just as quickly, making her home beside her own creation. And she loved her new family dearly - Dr Caustic was a reserved man, but he valued her intelligence, and did not object to her rambling and flapping of her hands. Elliott was funny, always telling stories of his family and life on Solace, and Anita was a hell of a shot, giving her pointers whenever she could, but not with her usual abrasiveness - she was kinder, self-aware of her own tendency to be quite scary at times. Makoa was caring to her needs, Octavio appealed to her curiosity and the tendency to be rash once in a blue moon. The Apex Games was her house, but the Apex Legends were her home.

And then there was Pathfinder, the happy little MRVN unit that brought that home to her in a totally different way. Ever trusting, much like herself, expressive in himself but never losing that happy tone in his voice. He cared for his friends - his family - and talked of travel and dreams, but never really knowing who he was, or why he was here. But despite that, he carried on with that in stride, forever blind to the future. It was a blissful ignorance that she could admit she was almost jealous of - he was not bound by such an innate concept as a soulmate. But he was still soul searching, and still so loving and kind to everyone he met, even if they didn’t return the sentiment, like the world was his soulmate and he was ready to give out as many parts of him until it loved him back, as he loved it.

She’d held this sentiment as the two worked with and against each other through the seasons, the two of them forming a bond quite quickly due to his need for the occasional repair and her curiosity with his components. He treated her with kindness and love, and it came to the point that sometimes she missed his company and high fives, though this was… a different kind of loneliness than that she had once experienced as a child, alienated from any other children that would pass through due to her intelligence and special position. She couldn’t quite place her finger on what it was, but there was just… something about Pathfinder that she didn’t want to lose, not for a moment.

There was a quiet night, after a game that day, when there was a familiar voice at the door to her room, littered with parts and unusually messy (she liked to work that way).

“Miss Natalie?” The robot had caught her as she was working on her gear, a malfunction with her fences had caused a firefight with an unfair advantage, which was something she didn’t enjoy.

She jumped a little, pulling up her safety goggles with a small smile. “Pathfinder, hello! You… didn’t knock.”

“Oh, I did knock, you were just busy working, and I didn’t want to just stand there and scare you when you looked up, so…” He trailed off and sheepishly tapped his fingers together, and it seemed whatever annoyance she once had eased a little.

“A-ah, well… sorry about that, my friend. Did you need something? Is your grapple acting up again?”

“Oh, no, you fixed it really well! Thank you, friend.” The screen on his chest flashed like sunshine, as he tapped a hand against where his grapple was hidden in his metal shell. “Well, I just… I had some questions, and Elliott is out doing a press release, so I can’t ask him…”

Of course, Elliott was always his first choice - that worried her, for as much as she loved the trickster, she knew that he didn’t treat Pathfinder the best, or at least, as a friend should. That was something someone should speak to him about. Natalie took her safety goggles off and placed them on her desk, giving the robot her full attention. “Well, what’s up?”

He paused for a moment, assessing whether that was a pun or not before he nodded, taking a seat on the stool beside her. “Well, I wanted to ask… what’s a soulmate?”

The mention of the concept made her freeze, before she looked away for a moment and fiddled with a few loose wires in the base of her pylon. “Well, that’s… why do you ask?”

“I don’t know… I have heard a lot of people say it and celebrate it, but I never knew what it meant. Is it like… a super best friend?”

“In… a way. It’s a lover tied to you by destiny. The one you’re supposed to be with all your life… identified with a mark, l-like this one.” Slowly, she pulled off one of her thick work gloves and showed Pathfinder the inside of her wrist, where she bore a small, glowing mark.

“Oh… that’s pretty.”

“Mhm.”

“...You don’t think so?”

“Huh?” Natalie looked up, at the optic eye now staring up at her. “Well, it is pretty, but…”

“...Do you think it’s silly?”

She didn’t reply, only looked away. Silly, possibly - suffocating, almost definitely.

The robot didn’t respond back for a moment, simply looking at her with a small tilt of his head, before he continued with a thought out loud. “I think you should be able to find your own soulmate.”

“What?”

“Well, if they’re destiny, there’s no point in waiting around - that’s why I’m looking for my creator the way I am. You have to make noise to be heard.”

��That’s… oddly profound, my friend.”

He smiled, or at least, his screen did, a bright beaming yellow reflecting on the LEDs embedded in his chest, beating as any real heart would do - full of love, and hope. “Bloodhound taught me that one, they’re very smart.”

The engineer paused, before she couldn’t help but chuckle. “I suppose they are.”

Silence fell between them for another moment, but they did not move. She watched the robot shift in place on the stool, and for once, his screen was blank, nothing shown. It was oddly unnerving.

“Miss Natalie?”

“Oui, Pathfinder?”

“Do you want to be my soulmate?”

She was almost taken aback by the question, looking up to him with a slight eyebrow raise. “Pardon?”

“Well, I… it’s silly, but… everyone has been so nice, and that makes me happy, but whenever you’re nice to me I get even happier, and I’ve been searching for so much for so long that I-”

“-want to embrace what you have found?” She finished his thought with her own, watching him look to her and nod slowly. Of course, this made sense - the emotional wanderlust he held was soul searching, but he never knew what it was like to have something - someone - that was his. They were kindred souls, in that way, at least. Natalie smiled to herself. Of course - the loneliness she felt was longing for that comfort of love that she found. She just didn’t realize because it wasn’t something that she had just found… it was a bond she had nurtured, and cherished. A bond she had found. “...I will, Pathfinder.”

He paused, sitting up a little straighter in surprise before clapping his hands together, his heart on the screen glowing a warm, loving pink, almost welcoming her in before he held out a hand to her, pinkie finger extended in a promise. “We’ll be best soulmates forever!”

The engineer giggled, taking her own pinkie finger in his own and curling it around the cold metal appendage, a light dusting of pink brushing across her cheeks. “Pour toujours et à jamais. Always and forever.”

Pathfinder reached out and pressed his head against hers with a gentle bonk, which made her laugh again, bringing up a hand to hold what would have been his cheek, pausing for a moment at the red light reflected onto her skin before kissing his optic with a gentleness and tenderness she didn’t know she possessed. And for the first time since she could remember, Natalie wasn’t afraid of the future.

Soulmates could be found, but they could also be made - both figuratively and literally, it seemed.

#apex legends #pathfinder (apex legends)#wattson #wattfinder #apex rarepair week #apex legends tag #dahl.doc

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darisu-chan · 5 years

Text

Appearances Can Be Deceiving

I’m back with another one-shot, this time a hilarious adventure with Isshin I had always wanted to write, and only had the chance now.

You can also read it here.

Prompt: “it’s not what it looks like!”

Summary: Isshin’s latest attempt at listening through Ichigo’s door finally brings results.

Isshin was enjoying a rare afternoon by himself. It was a Sunday and all of his children were out. Karin was in the park, playing soccer, while Yuzu had gone to a friend’s house to bake brownies. Even Ichigo had gone to the movies with his friends ─at least Isshin really hoped they were, in fact, in the movies, and not out saving the world from yet another power-thirsty villain. Being alone meant that he could get to relax in ways he never could these days. He began by boiling water in a kettle, and taking out a tea mix he had been eager to try (call him old fashion, but he preferred mixes to bags). While the water boiled, he went and grabbed the book he had bought around a year ago, that he had never gotten to read. Taking out his favorite mug, he poured the water and added the tea. Isshin blew on it and then took a hearty sip. Ah. It was perfect. With his mug in hand, he made his way to the living room, ready to get down to read. However, just as he had sat down, he heard a weird noise. For a few seconds he sat on the couch, perplexed. When the noise wasn’t heard again, he opened his book, a novel about a man whose children were always getting into trou─

Thud

Huh. There it was again. Isshin looked up, down and sideways but could not pin point exactly where it had come from. Nothing had fallen down as far as he could see. It hadn’t even sounded as something hitting the floor, it was more like the sound of─

Thud

Thudthudthudthud

That piqued his interest. As the noises had sounded close together, he finally realized whatever that was, was coming from upstairs. Leaving both the book and the mug on top of the coffee table, Isshin slowly stood up, careful of not making noises. He then tiptoed as he went upstairs. His first instinct was to think there was a burglar. It was still early and bright outside for a robbery, but you never know these days. Then, he thought it could have been related to the Soul Society. It was no secret to him that several Shinigami often came to his house in search of his son. So far none had seen him, and for that he was glad, because he really couldn’t imagine what Rangiku and Toshirou-kun would think of seeing him again after so many years, living a human life. They would probably beat his ass fir disappearing all those years ago. Still, peeking into Ichigo’s room wouldn’t hurt. He had to make sure no foe was after his son.

As Isshin approached the door, he heard the thud even more strongly. Jackpot! He was about to slam the door open when he noticed there were voices coming from the room. Sure enough, they sounded exactly like Ichigo and Rukia-chan. The father blinked, for a moment left taken aback. Weren’t they watching a movie? His surprise gave way to shock when he heard what sounded distinctly like a feminine moan. Not wasting another minute, he pressed his ear to the door.

“Don’t be so loud, Rukia.” It was Ichigo who was talking. His voice husky.

“I-I can’t h-help it.” The girl all but whined.

Isshin almost yelped.

No.

It couldn’t be!

Where they…?

Thud

Moan

Thudthudthud

Oh.

They totally were.

They were going at it hard, by the sounds of it.

And with him in the house too!

What a pair of rascals!

(Though Isshin couldn’t really fault them. They had been apart for seventeen long months. If his dear Masaki and he had been separated for so long when they were young, he was sure they probably wouldn’t have left the room in a week. Maybe even more.)

He almost laughed to himself. Of course. He tended to forget sometimes that his soon was a teenager, a healthy one at that. He would definitely have urges, especially being so close to such a beautiful girl he was totally in love with, because, come on, Ichigo was in love with Rukia. There was no other explanation to his moodiness whenever she was gone. Isshin smiled. If this kept up, one day he would be the proud grandfather of a cute little child. He wondered if the baby would look more like his son or like Rukia-chan. Perhaps the kid would even look like Masaki. He couldn’t wait!

Isshin’s happiness was over, however, when he realized this was not the first time he had heard sounds coming from his son’s room. Each previous time had ended up in disappointment at finding Ichigo and Rukia-chan were most definitely not engaging in adult activities. Could this be a fake alarm too?! No! That would dampen his dreams of a child with orange hair and violet eyes! In a split second, the father decided to keep listening and put an ear to the door once more. He listened to more thuds. Closing his eyes, Isshin tried to imagine what they could be doing that could elicit such noises. The most obvious reason would be repeatedly banging against the bed. Yet, it could also come from the desk, the wall… or even the closet…

Could Ichigo be on those leagues now?!

His nose started bleeding.

No, Isshin, you gotta focus!

Shaking his head, he resumed thinking. There was a chance one of them was jumping on the bed, although that wouldn’t necessarily explain the moans. And speaking of which,

“Ah… aaaahhh.”

“Rukia! I told you to be quiet! Dad’s home and he doesn’t know we’re in here.”

“I-it’s your f-fault! Y-you’re g-going t-too… ah… har-aaah”

Thudthudthudthud

“C-can’t help it. We rarely get the chance to be like this.”

“I-ichigo.”

“Hmmm. That’s how I like it. Keep saying my name, Rukia.”

Yep.

They were having sex.

Now, any other father would have probably been alarmed, but not Isshin. He completely understood his son. It was a Shiba man thing to be passionate to a fault, and that did not exclude bedroom activities. Why, he could still remember that time Ryuuken had accidentally walked in on Masaki and him at the clinic on his off day. The man had screeched bloody murder, and though they had been interrupted, it had been a funny anecdote to retell during family reunions. Ryuuken always got red in the face, but it wasn’t as if he was one to talk. He still remembered the time Masaki had overheard him and Kanae-san having some alone moments in his room. Ah! To be young and in love!

Then, as if he had been drenched by a bucket of ice cold water, Isshin froze.

How could he be so dumb as to forget?!

Worry that the two weren’t using protection suddenly overcame him. Though he had given the talk to Ichigo as extensively as possible, he was reminded of the fact his son was a horny teen who tended to be reckless. Then there was Rukia who probably had no idea about human contraceptives. It was a recipe for disaster. More exactly, it was exactly how one got pregnant. Oh, he didn’t even want to imagine it! Not only would his own son become a teenage father, he would knock up Rukia, aka the sister of one of the most protective captains in the Soul Society, without being married. There was no way Byakuya-kun would not want to castrate Ichigo, or worse, kill him for good. No! Isshin could not allow that to happen. He loved his son too much to let him die by the hands of a very pissed off Shinigami. He needed to make sure the two of them were being safe or, at the very least, stop them before Ichigo could reach past the point of no return.

Opening the door as fast as he could, Isshin barged in screaming, “No, son! Don’t do it! I don’t want you to die!��

“What the hell, old man?!”

He opened his eyes, which had been closed beforehand, and instead of seeing the images his perverted mind had concocted of his son and third daughter bare naked on the bed (or perhaps in other places of the room), he saw both of them, fully dressed, attempting to tickle one another.

“Wha─?” He blurted out, dumbfounded.

“What are you doing here?! And why did you come in like that?!” Ichigo complained, finally sitting down on his bed properly, and he crossed his arms, clearly annoyed.

“B-but… what… I thought you… you were…”

“Where what?”

“I thought you were at the movies!” Isshin exclaimed.

His son sighed. “Plan got cancelled. Keigo came up with the flu and pretty much got everyone sick. Rukia and I are hiding here.”

That made sense.

But…

“And what were you doing in here with the door closed?” He asked, suspiciously.

At least the two had the decency to blush. “It-it’s not what it looks like!” Both stammered.

“We were just having a tickle fight.”

“A tickle fight?” He was still not buying it.

“Yeah, a tickle fight.” Ichigo nodded. “Just that.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Hmm.”

“But why did you barge in?” He questioned.

“Yeah, and why did you say Ichigo was going to die?” Rukia-chan asked him.

Isshin felt ashamed. He wasn’t about to tell them what he thought was going down. His son already thought he was a pervert, he didn’t need to add to that. “Well, I heard strange noises and thought you were being attacked! That’s right! I was concerned!”

Both teens raised an eyebrow as they looked at each other. Finally, Ichigo looked back at him. “Eh… Alright… Though if I was being attacked, I doubt I’d go down that easily.”

“Yeah… right…”

“Are you gonna go now?”

“Huh? Oh yeah! Continue whatever you were doing! I won’t bother you anymore!”

On that note, Isshin dashed out of the room and back to the living room. Once by himself, he started chuckling to himself. Of course his son was still too innocent to be doing such activities. Well, maybe if he waited longer until he was older, he’d be more rational and remember to use protection, so that his poor father wouldn’t have to worry about his untimely demise due to sakura petals.

“Eh. One day I’ll get my grandkids.” He muttered, opening his long forgotten book.

Unbeknownst to him, back in Ichigo’s room, the two young Shinigami had collapsed on the bed. If he had taken time to notice, he would’ve seen how ruffled their clothes were, and that Ichigo was wearing his shirt backwards.

“That was too close.” Rukia complained, burying her head on the pillow.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been so loud.” Ichigo retorted, grumpily joining her on the bed.

“I told you I couldn’t help it!” She defended herself, blushing.

“Che. You’re right. I love listening to you like that.” He grinned, tenderly caressing her cheek.

Rukia coughed before continuing. “It’s your fault, anyway. You forgot to lock the door.”

“Fuck.” Ichigo cursed as he stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“To lock the damn door!”

Rukia smirked impishly at him. “Oh? So Kurosaki-kun wants to go back to playing?”

“Don’t call me like that, and you bet! Or what? You wanna stop? You weren’t close yet.”

“Nu-uh. Give it to me, Kurosaki Ichigo.”

“Do you want all of it?”

“Hell yes!”

More thudding could be heard, but Isshin ignored all of it. It was no possible the noise could mean anything more than a tickle fight… right?

Sadly, he was unaware that, for the first time ever, he had been absolutely right.

Thudthudthudthud

#ichiruki #proichiruki #ichirukimonth #ichiruki fanfiction #my fanfiction

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Rising from the Ashes (9/?)

Summary: When her husband died, Emma wasn’t sure that she could ever move on. He left her with a broken heart and a baby who was only three-months old. It’s enough to take most people down, to make them not want to keep going, but Emma Swan isn’t most people. She’s stronger than she has any right to be. And after years of heartache, she’s found ways to move on…one of those being in Neal’s best friend, Killian Jones.

As she’s always known, however, things are more complicated than they ever seem to be.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I’d just like to thank @shady-swan-jones for sending me the prompt that inspired this story. I thought it was simply going to be a one shot, but I’m having too much fun exploring everything as a part of a bigger story! And I know that you guys are really enjoying me ripping your hearts out. lol. ❤️

Double “-/-” around the flashback.

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Tag list: @artistic-writer @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @resident-of-storybrooke @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @ekr032-blog-blog @mayquita @bmbbcs4evr @wellhellotragic @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @shady-swan-jones @snowbellewells @snow-into-ash @andiirivera @mariakov81 @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @kristi555 @facesiousbutton82 @superchocovian @jonirobinson64

“Momma, do you know where my red jacket is?”

“Is it not in your closet?”

“Nope.”

She sighs, leaning her head back against the wall with Christmas ornaments piled between her legs. She’s been adding back the hooks that fell off while they were all up in storage for the past year. It’s pretty much all of the ornaments, and since she’s tired of doing this every year, she bought the nice hooks that are supposed to stay on. It just means that she has to do them all.

God, she cannot wait to go back to work even if it does mean leaving Ada at nursery because she needs another kind of structure than this.

“Do you need it right now?”

“Yeah. Avery’s mom is going to take us ice skating tonight, and you said the blue one isn’t warm enough.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, I’ll go look for it later. Why don’t you go get your dad and ask him to come and help you to put all of these hooks on?”

“He’s napping.”

“Seriously?”

Henry shrugs. “Yeah, he said he was tired.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” she repeats to herself, running her hands through her hair. All she really wants is a nap as well, but she’s got Henry while Killian’s at the grocery store with Ada getting food for this afternoon while they decorate the tree. “Do you want to watch a movie while I go look for it?”

“Can I watch the Grinch?”

She smiles to herself before picking up all of the ornaments and placing them back in the container. “Yeah, I’ll set it up, and I promise I’ll be back to watch it with you as soon as I find your jacket for tonight? Do you also need your skates?”

“Yep.”

“Of course you do.”

She leans down to press a kiss into Henry’s hairline before setting the movie up for him. She’s got no idea where any of his stuff is, especially since they just went through the attic for all of their Christmas decorations, so she assumes it’s all simply somewhere in his closet.

So of course it’s not. His skates are, but she’s stupidly realized that they’re far too small. How did she not think about that? Probably because she’s had two straight days of hell that seem infinitely worse than everything else. She’s trying so damn hard to be positive, to remember all of David’s encouraging words, but it’s difficult when he’s not here reminding her of them in the hard times. And texting him isn’t exactly the same, especially when she’s not sure that she wants him to know absolutely everything that’s so messed up in her life.

It’s a lot.

She’d been so annoyed with Killian yesterday, everything he did rubbing her the wrong way, and she knows that it’s because she’d stayed up all night simply replaying conversations and memories and everything she should have left alone.

She was wallowing. She knows this, but recognizing something and stopping are two totally different things.

Then he’d come home from his dentist’s appointment with a smile on his face trying to talk to her like everything was as it should be, and she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t, so she snapped. It felt so good to let her anger out, but she knows that she only got part of it released before she pulled back and stepped away, not wanting to take things too far, not wanting to say things she’d truly regret. They’re so damaged right now, and as good as it felt to yell at him, she knows that they’re on the same team despite what she said. Even if they burn down in flames and are left as nothing but ashes, they’re always going to be on the same team because of their kids.

God, she hurts.

And then while they’d been at the Christmas tree farm Killian had pulled her to the side and told her what happened to Henry at school. She could see the hesitation in his eyes, could see how nervous he was scratching behind his ear, but he told her everything. She knows it couldn’t have been easy for him, could see the vein bulging in his forehead as he relayed the story between two duglas fir trees, and as pissed as she was at the fact that there are parents at Henry’s school calling her a whore (which is absolutely ridiculous and takes women back a solid fifty years), she was infinitely more upset that Henry was having to go through something so ridiculous. He’s eight. He shouldn’t have issues like having to deal with his classmates calling his mom a whore.

He’d seemed fine as they walked along the lot, a smile on his face as he talked about how big each tree was to all three of them, but Killian didn’t hold back in talking about how upset he’d been. The words “we need to talk about all of this some more” were on the tip of her tongue when Henry yelled her name as he pointed up at a tree. They’d gotten interrupted, and she hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to Killian again as she carried Ada over to where Henry was.

She really needs to talk to Killian because she can’t live like this anymore. She can’t live with her life full of more questions than answers and uncertainties than certainties. She can’t live like this. They have to talk.

And not just about them either. About everything.

Walking out of Henry’s room and down the hall to hers, she heads to her closet and starts going through all of the shirts and jackets looking for Henry’s red jacket. She has no idea why it would be in here, but it always seems like this is the place where things go missing. Sure enough, she sees the box she just marked ‘winter jackets’ sitting on the top shelf on Killian’s side of the closet. She can’t reach up there on her own, so it takes some maneuvering to get a chair out of the bedroom into the closet so she can stand up to get the box. She still has to press up on her toes to get it, and she thinks she’s got it until she stumbles and knocks the box down, having to catch herself on the bar that hangs all of Killian’s suit jackets that she just knocked over, all of the clothes tumbling to the ground with a large thud.

The saying when it rains it pours really seems to be sticking around for her right now.

It’s just raining suit jackets. And Henry’s red puffer jacket that tumbled out of the box.

It takes awhile to get the chair moves back so she can pick everything up, especially in her attempt to make sure all of the jackets are in the order that Killian likes (sometimes he’s so weird about things like this). His old dress whites are the last thing she hangs up, and as she’s straightening out the wrinkles in it, she feels a hard box in the pocket that immediately stops her in her tracks.

Holy shit.

She can feel her heartbeat in her ears. It’s actually in her ears, and if she was breathing, she’s sure that would be irregular too. Her hands shake as she reaches into the pocket, pulling out a small blue velvet box, and she nearly vomits right then and there. She shouldn’t open this. She shouldn’t. It’s not her business. This really isn’t her business, but now that she’s seen it, she doesn’t think she’s going to be able to live not knowing what’s inside.

She knows that it’s a ring, but for some reason she needs to see the physical proof of it.

Her teeth clamp together and her eyes close before she’s snapping it open, opening one eye to look at the diamond that’s in her hands. It’s gorgeous, just a simple oval diamond with a gold band that shines under the light in the closet.

This is – Killian was going to propose to her, she realizes, and her legs shake beneath her until she’s sliding down the wall and curling herself into a ball while she continues to stare at the ring, disbelief that it’s real. They’d talked about getting married. It wouldn’t have been completely out of the blue, but she had no idea that he’d bought a ring, that he must have been holding onto it for months now.

Finding out like this feels wrong, dirty even.

It should have never been like this.

None of this should have ever been like this.

“Hey, Ems, what was that sound?” Neal asks from her bedroom, and she quickly stuffs the ring into her shirt and her bra before he comes into view, half of his face covered in pillow creases. “Why are you on the floor?”

“I, um,” she starts, reaching up to fidget with her necklace, “I accidentally knocked down Killian’s suits when I was trying to get a box off of the top shelf, and I guess I’m on the floor trying to finish the clean up.”

Neal quirks an eyebrow at her, and she has to force a smile onto her face while her heart still beats quickly. That was a bad lie, and even she knows it. “I’m glad it was just the suits. It woke me up from my nap.”

“Sorry,” she cringes, getting up from the ground and brushing down her jeans before she grabs Henry’s jacket and holds it over her chest. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great. I’m just tired as all. It’s weird working a desk job again, especially because I stayed late yesterday to finish up some reports.”

“I cannot wait,” she laughs, nudging past him to walk out of the closet. “I love spending time with Ada, but I want to go back to work. Chilling at home isn’t really my thing.”

“Trust me, no one knows that more than me.”

Her steps stop at his words, but she shakes it off and keeps walking out of the room, hoping that Neal will follow her. Having him in her bedroom feels wrong, and all she can think about is the box pressing into the skin of her chest and a similar box that Neal gave her eleven years ago when he proposed under the cherry blossom trees in D.C. when they’d been out on a walk. She was so young then, so in love, and her mind can’t wrap itself around the difference in her life then and the difference in her life now.

“Yeah,” she chuckles awkwardly, twisting her head to make sure he’s following her as she stands in the hallway, boxes of Christmas decorations next to the stair railing that looks over the entrance to the house, waiting for them to come face to face with each other. “So, um, do you want to help out with some decorations? We tend to get really festive around here.”

“The giant tree in the living room tells me that.”

“We always get a big tree. It’s, like, this tradition now because I used to have this tiny fake tree when I lived in an apartment after you…after you died, and, well, um, Killian wasn’t having it. So now we have these giant real trees, and Henry gets to put this swan tree topper on it even though it looks ridiculous now.”

His lips curl up into a smile, his entire face crinkling, and she feels her own face do the same thing. “That’s wonderful. Do you guys do the whole Santa thing?”

“Yep. Santa comes to visit, and he leaves some smaller presents unwrapped on the couch while presents from us go wrapped under the tree. It’s Ada’s first Christmas, so I’m super excited about it. I guess it’s your first Christmas too. With Henry, I mean. So if you need help finding him a gift, I can go shopping with you.”

“He likes trains, doesn’t he? That’s what he said.”

“Yeah, but we have far too many trains in this house. Killian and I, I think, are going to get him a bike as his big gift, so I don’t know. You could get him something to go with that. Or maybe you could get him some more journals or crayons. Uh, books, he likes books. Or games for his Switch thing. We try to go minimal on the games, but he can get a couple. I’ll just have to tell you what games to get. Ooh, or – ”

“Emma,” Neal laughs, reaching over to put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing her sweater to get her to stop rambling, “you don’t have to list the entire toy catalog of toys. We can just go shopping or something. Though it’s not like we can go to Toys R Us anymore.”

“Look at you all up and current on the news,” she sighs, reaching up to quickly pat his shoulder before moving her hand back down to keep clutching Henry’s jacket to her chest.

“Well, it’s kind of hard to talk to my coworkers about shit when I don’t know anything that’s happened for years.”

“True. You want to go help set some decorations up now?”

“I’d like that. But, I, uh,” he mumbles, his feet staying put while he smiles with that crooked smile of his that she always found so charming, “I was wondering if you were okay, Ems. I know it’s been a lot of changes, but you’ve seemed a little frazzled over the past few weeks.”

“I’m fine,” she lies, pressing her lips together in what she hopes looks like a genuine smile. “You’re right that I’ve been a bit stressed, but we do have a lot going on.”

“And you and Jones, you’re fine too?”

“Yeah,” she spits out, knowing that she can’t start crying now. “We’re great. Like I said, even with how absolutely thrilled I am to have you back, it’s been a lot on me and Killian. I’m happy to do it, though.”

“I understand. It can’t be easy to have your husband living in your house with your boyfriend.”

Well shit. She knows he doesn’t mean anything by it, but she might as well tell him now. She’s going to start telling people how she feels today, and it might as well start with Neal. Maybe not everything, but she can start.

“We’ve divorced, Neal,” she mumbles, hoping that he can hear her as her eyes look at the light fixture just behind his head. Someone needs to dust that. “I don’t – I know that it’s not fair to you, but we are. I signed the papers last year to have you officially declared dead and us divorced. So technically we’re not married, and as much as I will always love you, I’m not sure that I see us ever getting back together or contesting the papers or whatever. I’m sorry.”

Her gaze falls back to his, and she can see a storm rage behind the brown of his eyes. They’re widened for a moment before he closes them, lashes landing against his cheeks while the corners of his lips curl up into a small smile that makes all of the lines on his face appear, the lines that she’s still getting used to.

She really did just blurt that out, didn’t she?

It feels damn good.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he begins, his voice as soft as she’s ever heard it, and she’s not sure if her heart breaks or heals as he opens his eyes again, water pooling in them that makes him look like Henry. “I mean, I kind of figured. I’ve been a little scared to talk about the legalities of it all, but I’ve pretty much known since you told me that you and Killian were together. You’ve been my wife in my mind for over a decade now, so I guess I’m still going to refer to you that way. I’ll try to work on it.”

“Neal, it’s fine,” she promises, stepping forward and wrapping him in a hug, hoping the Henry’s jacket will keep him from feeling the ring box. “It’s okay for you to need to adjust. You’ve been through hell, and you came back to an entirely new world. Henry and I, Killian too, we’re always going to love you.”

“I love you guys too,” he whispers as he buries his face in her hair.

For all of their problems, both past and present, she knows that nothing could ever change that she does love him in a way. He was her best friend for a long time, and he gave her Henry. For all the bad, there’s still good, and right now she can’t find it in her to dredge up all of the bad when having to tell Neal that she legally took him out of his own family.

But maybe that’s what she’ll work on next.

After they pull back from each other, they walk downstairs and turn to go back to the living room where Henry is still perched on the couch watching The Grinch, and she tosses him his jacket, listening to him murmur a “thank you” before she plops down next to him and pulls a box of ornaments toward she and Neal so he can help her thread all of them with the new hooks. It doesn’t take long with help, and they get everything done before the movie is over. Neal asks her if she wants to go ahead and start hanging the ornaments, but even with how upset she is with him right now, it doesn’t feel right without Killian. He should be here.

She wraps her arm around Henry’s shoulder and pulls him into her side, kissing his hair even if he protests a little bit. One day he’s going to be too cool to be affectionate with her, but today is not that day. He’s her little boy, and all she wants is for him to be happy. His day yesterday was so rough, and he doesn’t at all deserve anything that he’s had to go through because his parents’ lives are difficult and because other parents don’t know how to have private conversations. He deserves to get to watch Christmas movies and go ice skating with his best friend. He deserves for his parents not to be separated and moping despite how hard they’re trying not to seem upset.

She’s a mom. She’s been a mom for eight and a half years, whether she was ready for it or not, and life doesn’t stop for her no matter what’s going on. She has to keep going.

-/-

“Neal, I’m serious,” she groans, quickly twisting her hair into a braid so that her hair will stop falling in her face while she looks over her notes. “I don’t want to go out tonight.”

“Come on, babe,” he smiles, walking over to her and tucking her bangs behind her ear before she can pin them back, “it’ll be fun. You’ve been studying for days. It’ll be nice to get to go out.”

“I’ve been studying because I have finals coming up in two weeks, and I’ve got to keep my GPA up for my scholarship. It’s not like I’m going to make enough when I graduate to pay off loads of debt. Plus I still want to get my Masters and – ”

“Ems,” Neal whispers, leaning down to press a kiss on her cheek, “it’s okay. You work so hard, and I love you for that. But sometimes it’s good to take a break. Besides, when we get married, you can use my grant for your Masters. It won’t cost you any money.”

“Really? You’re sure that I can use it?”

“I’m positive. I looked into it and everything. I know your mom doesn’t have much money, but we’re going to be set.”

“I know you’re good at your job, but I don’t think it’s going to set us up for life.”

He shrugs before walking back to his dresser and pulling on a flannel shirt over his t-shirt. “I’ve got savings. I’m twenty-seven and have some leftover stuff that my mom left me when she died. It’s not like I’m just starting out. So we’ll be comfortable.”

She brings her bottom lip between her teeth, biting a bit while she weighs the pros and cons of going out tonight. It’d probably be fun. It’s been awhile since they’ve gone out.

“Okay, I’ll come with you, but I’m not going to drink tonight, okay? I’ve got to wake up early and go through my notes again since I only got to section three.”

“That sounds perfect.”

After she changes into jeans and a sweater, throwing her red jacket on to combat a bit of the cold, they go to Oceania, which is Neal’s favorite bar. She’s never seen the appeal of it, but it’s apparently where everyone here in the military goes on their nights off, no matter the branch. So she’s been here a few times, and it’s that fact that has her moving away from the bar and going to get a booth in the back. They’re much more comfortable, and she’s less likely to get hit on by random guys. She’s fine with it if only because she can take care of herself and it rarely goes too far, but when Neal has had a few beers, he doesn’t think the most rationally. She loves him, but sometimes when he pulls shit like that, she wants to tell him to fuck off.

It’s not often though. He’s a good guy, and she’s so happy that she’s found him. He’s probably the first person besides Ruth and David to really care for her, and he makes her feel like she’s found another home. A really good one. She spent most of her life alone, and while sometimes she still prefers it to be that way, it’s good to have a family.

She twists the ring on her finger, looking at the large diamond, and fiddles with it until she sees Neal coming back with their drinks. He’s just got a water for her, but she can see his almost empty glass of whiskey. She can also see that he’s bringing a group of people with him, guys following around him and talking to him, and she braces herself for the introductions. She’s always been so bad with names, and it doesn’t help that they always all look alike.

“Babe,” Neal greets, sliding into the booth next to her and giving her the glass of water, “I want you to meet a couple of guys. That’s Scarlett, Whale, and then you know that guy Jones I’m always talking about?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s him on the end there.”

She waves to all of them since she can’t reach over to them, and they all wave back. She’s never heard of Scarlett and Whale before, but she knows a bit about Jones. Killian. His first name is Killian even though Neal prefers last names. It’s a military thing, she guesses. Neal is always talking about him because they watch soccer together and sometimes train together outside of their units, but she doesn’t really know a lot about him. He’s not really how she pictured him either.

His hair is a little longer than a crew cut, his face not exactly clean shaven, and even in the dim lights of the bar she can see the blue of his eyes. He’s attractive. Anyone with eyes can see that, and the fact that he’s dressed in tight black jeans and a fitted t-shirt doesn’t hide the fact that he’s fit. But all of these guys are fit. It’s the nature of their jobs.

What she really doesn’t expect, however, is the accent.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, lass,” Killian greets, sliding into the booth across from her and flashing her a toothy grin. “Cassidy’s not one for talking too much about you, but I already know that you are far too good for him.”

“Undoubtedly,” she teases, laughing a bit at his joke while she pats Neal’s forearm. “But you can’t tell him that.”

“It’ll be between us, love.”

“I’m literally sitting right here.”

“I was enraptured by your fiancée’s beauty, mate,” Killian sighs, winking at her before looking at Neal. “Can you blame me?”

“A little bit yeah.”

“Hey,” she laughs, slapping his arm, “this is prime time where you say the same thing happens to you.”

Scarlett and Whale both whistle at that, and she turns to look at them still standing until they both squeeze into the booth next to Killian. She kind of forgot they were there.

“Cassidy, you’re supposed to compliment your lady.”

“Scarlett, you are the last person who should be giving me advice on this.”

“Hey, I dated Anna for years. I just fucked it all up.”

“Exactly,” Neal sighs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder while he chugs down the rest of his drink. “I’m not going to fuck this one up. Emma’s great, and she’s graduating from college soon, unlike every single one of us.”

“What are you studying, love?” Killian asks her, and everyone else at the table groans, much to her confusion. “Bloody hell, it’s not bad to ask someone what they’re studying. If you don’t want to hear about school, you can go sit someone else.”

“I know all about this, so I’m going to go get another drink,” Neal states before unwrapping his arm and getting up from the table. “Do you two want to come and join me?”

“Yep. It was nice to meet you, Emma,” Whale mumbles, smiling at her before getting out of the booth.

“Yeah, it was”, Scarlett adds. “I’m sure we’ll be back later. I want to talk to whoever is in charge of the music tonight.”

“It was nice to meet you guys too.” She watches them all walk away, their conversation fading the further they get and the louder the music playing over the speaker becomes. She’s never been great with small talk, so she’s a bit hesitant to be left with this stranger. He’s not really a stranger. She knows a little about him, but still. She wasn’t really prepared to be having a conversation with just him. “So, yeah,” she starts, focusing her eyes back on Killian as he taps his fingers on the table, “I’m getting my bachelor’s in psychology. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do, but I was always somewhere between social worker, therapist, and guidance counselor for high school kids. I’m leaning more toward counselor because I think I’ll enjoy it while also helping out. My counselor is the one who encouraged me to go to college when I didn’t think it was a possibility for me, so yeah.”

“That sounds brilliant,” he tells her, and she’s not sure why she feels relieved hearing it, but she does. “I never went to university, as you heard. I’d always wanted to, but after I was unexpectedly moved here when I was twelve, things were a bit crazy and money was tight. And by the time I’d turned eighteen, the Navy was my best option. And if I really wished to, I could always go back to school.”

“It’s not for everyone, but I definitely think it’s worth it. So you’re from – ”

“England,” he finishes for her. “I grew up south of London, and my brother has moved back there since he married a woman from home. But I like it here, have citizenship and all that, so I decided to stay. Though I do like to go back every now and then to make sure I don’t lose my accent. It makes people think I’m a hell of a lot smarter than I really am.”

“I was thinking it probably helped you get girls.”

He smirks at her, actually smirks, and she feels a shiver run down her spine. “That too, but I find that I actually have to be interesting to keep a girlfriend.”

She laughs at that, especially with the way that his brows move over his forehead. He’s funny, and even though she barely knows him, she has a gut feeling that he’s one of Neal’s better friends. They’re not all bad, but some of them are assholes.

“I mean, looks only get you so far, so I’m glad you realized that.”

Killian leans forward on the table and props his chin up in his hand. “So you think I’m attractive then?”

“That is not what I said,” she protests, blush rising on her cheeks.

“It’s what I heard. It’s fine, love. I know that life is unfair for other men when I’ve got the looks and the personality.”

“And you’re humble.”

“That I am,” he sighs, leaning back and wiping the smirk off of his face to show a soft smile. “But seriously, I’m most definitely kidding. It doesn’t hurt to be confident, but I don’t want you to think I’m some undeniable asshole.”

She hums, trying to think of what to say in response. She has a feeling that he’s quick on his toes and can turn any conversation on a dime. He’s kind of a mystery to her, but then again, he might be an open enough book for her to figure out. “Well, I just met you, so I’m thinking you’ll have to prove it over more time than just now. But, fair warning, I consider all people to be assholes until they prove themselves otherwise, so you have the tide working against you.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Yes.”

One side of his mouth ticks up before he reaches up to scratch behind his ear. “I like you, Swan. I have a feeling you and I are going to be good mates.”

“Really now?”

“Yep. Now tell me all of the weird things you can about Neal so that I can mess with him later.”

“You want me to help you mess with my fiancé?”

“I do indeed.”

“Okay, but only if I get to help. What is love if there’s not a little teasing involved?”

“Really damn boring.”

-/-

The front door opens, and she reaches forward to pause the movie, much to Henry’s dismay.

“Why are you pausing it?”

“We’ve got to go help Daddy bring in the groceries.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Henry groans and throws his head back against the couch before he’s scrambling up and walking out of the room with she and Neal following right behind him.

“Don’t look so excited to help,” Killian jokes as he watches Henry walk through the front door. “Hey, Swan. Ada has been a bit cranky, and I didn’t have a bottle so – ”

“So she needs me,” she sighs, stopping her steps toward the front door and turning to get Ada from her car seat on the floor. “Got it.”

“Thanks, love.”

She smiles tightly at him before she’s adjusting Ada on her hip and watching everyone else go outside to get the groceries. It won’t take all three of them, but they’ll learn that when one of them is coming back empty-handed. “Alright, bug,” she sighs, walking back into the living room and settling down in a recliner so she’ll be comfortable. “I’m sure you had a good time with your daddy, but you are fussy and need me, which is both reassuring and kind of annoying. Imagine what life would be like if Daddy could breastfeed.”

It’s a weird thought, but it’s a valid one nonetheless.

She moves to roll up her sweater and unsnap her bra when she’s suddenly reminded of the box she has hidden in there, the box that no one else can see right now.

Shit.

This day has been an absolute rollercoaster.

Quickly, she pulls the box out of her bra and stuffs it into the waistband of her leggings, the bulge obvious under the material, and gets Ada adjusted as much as she can, hoping that no one will pay her too much attention for the next few minutes before she can return the ring to Killian’s uniform jacket and stuff away all of her thoughts.

Or maybe not. Maybe she should talk to him. That’s what she’s been thinking all day. Now that she’s calmed a bit, she respects his choice of needing time, but she doesn’t respect his choice of not listening to her and her feelings, of not giving her an option. It’s selfish, but she can’t live in this sense of limbo. And it’s not like Killian hasn’t been selfish too. It’s too hard to act like she and Killian are okay when they’re not. It’s too hard to have to balance her crumbling relationship and her children and her ex-husband.

God, her chest feels lighter now that she’s not harboring that secret from Neal anymore.

She and Killian are going to talk. They have to. She has to take her life back because she has fought too damn hard for things to be okay for everything to fall apart because her kid got his dad back.

She’s going to get her life back if it kills her.

It’s going to kill her if she doesn’t, if she can’t. She has to get her life back.

She’s been so damn hurt by Killian, but honestly, all she wants is to be with him as long as they can work everything out.

“Mom,” Henry shouts as he runs into the room, “We’ve got cookies, but you guys can’t make them tonight because what if Ada eats them all while I’m with Avery?”

“Ada can’t eat cookies, kid.” “But what if you put them in the blender so she can?”

“We will not make the cookies without you, and Ada will not eat them. But, you know, when she’s older she can eat cookies, and you have to share.”

“I know. So you promise you won’t make the cookies without me?”

She sticks out her pinky, and Henry intertwines his with hers. “Promise.”

They spend their afternoon decorating the tree and the house, bright lights and ornaments adorning nearly every room. Killian puts Henry on his shoulders, and Henry puts the swan on top of the tree, completing everything in the house down to the wreath on the door that has a monogrammed “J” on it despite the fact that their household is made up of two Joneses, two Cassidies, and one Swan.

And a partridge in a pear tree.

Or a swan in a Christmas tree.

She doesn’t know. She’s lost her mind.

But for a couple of hours things seem normal again, and she feels her face hurt from smiling. It’s been a long time since that’s happened, and as she sends Henry off to go ice skating with Avery, money in his pocket to rent some new skates, she lets herself revel in it for a moment before she deals with the box that’s still pressing into the skin of her hip.

Before she takes her life back.

Once she gets Ada down for her nap, she take a deep breath (and then a couple more) and walks back into the living room where Killian and Neal are watching TV. She doesn’t understand how he can spend time with Neal and not her. Why does he need a break from her but not from Neal? Why doesn’t any of this make sense?

“Hey, Killian,” she asks, and he twists his head to look at her as he taps his fingers across the back of the couch, “can I talk to you for a minute?”

His eyes slant for a moment before they open back up, and he presses his lips together before nodding his head and rising from the couch. “Tell me if they catch the guy, yeah?”

“Sure thing, man.”

Killian walks over to her, and the moment he opens his mouth to say something, she nods her head and moves around the corner to that she can walk up the stairs, knowing for sure that Killian is following behind her, his footsteps heavy on the wood as it creaks beneath his weight at the same time that the weight in her shoulders begins to increase, her body humming in anticipation of laying all of her cards out on the table. She’s been through too much shit to have to go through more of it.

“Okay,” she sighs as they both walk into the bedroom, Killian closing the door behind him.

“You said you wanted to talk,” he asks calmly, sitting down on the edge of the bed as his eyes glance over to the chair that’s sitting in the closet. “What’s up?”

Her stomach churns, but she pushes it down, shutting her eyes for a moment before she’s lifting her shirt and taking the ring box out of her waistband and placing it on the bed right next to Killian. She opens her eyes to watch him, but all he does is widen his eyes before his hand is reaching out and thumbing over the velvet, caring for it like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

Maybe it is to him.

Maybe to him it’s a physical representation of how their life should be.

“Emma – ”

“No,” she starts, straightening her back and crossing her arms over her chest, “I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen, okay? And then we can hash it out. We haven’t talked in months, and I’m sick of it. I can’t do it anymore. So you’re good to listen?”

He nods his head and presses his lips together again while his knuckles go white around the box.

“You are an idiot. Do you know that? You are an idiot, Killian. I love you so much that sometimes it hurts, and I thought that you felt the same way about me. I thought that you wanted a future with me, and finding that box today made me think that maybe you’ve changed your mind after all that we’ve been through. The damn break makes me think that too. I still want a future with you. I have never not wanted that. Do you understand me? Neal coming back is supposed to be a blessing. It’s not supposed to be something that’s going to tear us apart.”

“But what about him? What about your family? What about Henry?”

“You think that I want to be a man who accused me of having a drunken hookup with you and implied that that’s the only reason why I have my daughter? You think I want that? You think I want to be with a man who I don’t even know anymore? Who I barely knew then when I really think about it? Killian, I loved Neal a long time ago, still love him in a way now, but I was young. He was older. I thought he knew everything, that he could help me finally have the life I never got growing up.”

She shakes her head back and forth as the rage runs through her. She’s not even sure that it’s rage. It’s likely just the release of her emotions and of everything that’s been bottled up and festering below the surface.

“I was so bitter about my childhood still, about how no one wanted me for so long, and he did. He wanted me. You know all of this. You were there for a lot of it. But you weren’t there for the way that he would sometimes dismiss my feelings, for the way he would laugh at me when I got excited at things, for the way he wasn’t happy when I told him I was pregnant with Henry. I loved him, I thought the world of him, and I know that I’ve glossed over so much of that shit because I thought he had died and wanted Henry to think his dad was a hero. You thought he was a hero. And he is. But he is not the man I want to be with. So if you could get the stick out of your ass and just stop feeling guilty like I did and love me like you’re supposed to love me, I feel like we won’t have to play this stupid game anymore. I can’t...I can’t do it, Killian. I can’t hang on your string too.” By the time she’s finished talking, her chest is heaving, her shoulders moving up and down, and she can feel her heart beating between her ears. That’s not how anatomy works, but she can feel it. She can hear it. It’s also what causes her to start laughing, for laughter to bubble up and rise through her chest before it escapes past her lips in a sound that she would describe as insanity in the form of laughter. There’s no other way. She’s lost her mind. She really has.

“Are you okay?”

“No, no,” she laughs, a hiccup escaping her as she tries to see Killian through the tears that are pooling in her eyes. “No, I’m not okay. I’m not okay. I’ve lost my mind, and I’ve lost my life. I’ve lost everything.”

The tears that stemmed from laughter suddenly sting hotly behind her eyes, and something shifts behind her as her legs become shaky and she moves to sit on the ground, her back resting against the dresser, a knob digging into her skin that might as well be cutting into her.

“You have not lost anything,” he murmurs, and she can see the blur of him as he squats down next to her and pulls her into an embrace that she doesn’t fight. She encourages it, wrapping her arms around his waist and sobbing into his shoulder as she can feel his hands moving up and down her back, tracing her spine. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I fucked up, that I didn’t listen to you, that I wouldn’t talk to you, that I thought that I knew best. I don’t, Emma. I don’t. I love you, and I was terrified to lose you. I am always terrified to lose you, and I shouldn’t – I don’t know how to fix us when I’m the one who broke us.”

“I just want you to talk to me. I just want you to stop sleeping in the nursery and to come back in this room. I want you to stop feeling guilty. You are not keeping me from being from Neal. If I wanted to be with him, I would be. I love you, you insufferable jackass,” she sniffs, leaning back as much as she can with how their limbs are twisted so that she can look in his eyes, the blue cloudy enough to nearly look gray. “I love you,” she whispers, reaching up to caress his face, to feel his scruff against her fingertips, “and I want to have our family back. Isn’t that what you want? We were so happy. Don’t you want to go back to how we were?”

“More than anything.”

“Then stop being stubborn and talk to me so that we can be us again.”

He nods his head up and down before leaning forward and pressing his forehead against hers, the heat of his skin comfortable and familiar and wonderful. “I’m sorry.”

“I am too.”

“We need to talk about what’s going on with Henry at school.”

“We need to talk about a lot of things.”

“Aye, it’s just – ”

“What?” she smiles, her fingers still tracing his face, running over the scar on his cheek that he got when a mirror shattered on his ship and cut his face. Her heartbeat has calmed, the regularity of it returning, but all of the sudden it starts up again. This time not in fear, but in anticipation.

“I just really, desperately need to kiss you for a minute before we talk some more about how much of a jackass that I am and all of that other stuff.”

She laughs again, but this time it’s not quite so insane. It’s watery, but it’s happy. And instead of talking, she slams her lips forward to capture Killian’s lips with hers, and the softness is exactly like coming home after searching her entire life.

The kiss lingers for longer than she expects, a gentle caress turning into a desperate slow dance. She thought it would be frantic. In all of the nights that she allowed herself to imagine them coming together again, she always thought it would be frantic, but she should have known better. Sometimes they can be rough and hurried, coming together so quickly and harshly that they’re both left with bruises, but usually it’s soft and slow.

It’s like this.

It’s not frantic, but there’s still an urgency, a need, and she revels in the way that Killian’s nose presses heavily into her cheek, into the way that his scruff burns her as much as the heat of his hands snaking up underneath her shirt while her hands cup his jaw, feeling each movement of his mouth on hers.

The weights that have been on her shoulders, the ones that are lessening and gaining and changing every day, disappear into a lightness that she can’t explain. It’s giddiness and desire and love all wrapped up in one. They have so much to talk about, so much to figure out, but they need this. She can’t speak for Killian, not really, but somehow she knows.

When you love someone, you know.

Clothes are shed as the stand, and for the briefest moment she remembers Ada sleeping in her crib in the nursery and Neal watching television downstairs, but she really doesn’t need to be thinking about Neal when Killian’s hands are fumbling with the clasp of her bra, releasing it and letting her feel free as the rough pads of his thumbs ghost of her nipples while heat simmers under her skin. Ada, well Ada will sleep for another hour, maybe two, and if she wakes, they have the monitor.

It’s all a blur. She wants to remember it all, wants to memorize things like she did the first time they slept together, but the awkward fumbling and uncertainty are replaced by sure hands and even surer movements as they both rile each other up, metaphorical flames flickering across her skin as Killian hovers above her, teasing her until he slides in and begins rocking against her, full and thick and…like home.

She wishes she could think of something else, some other way to consider it, but Killian has been home to her for a long time, even longer than they’ve been together. He’s a steady partner for her, the person who often keeps her from spiraling, and he understands her. Maybe it’s that they both have some not so stellar childhoods. Maybe it’s that they have both been through great loss. Maybe they simply work in a way that she doesn’t need to dissect.

“Emma,” he whispers, his thrusts coming to a sudden halt and making her whine out in frustration. “Emma, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” “Then why are you crying?”

He releases her hip to thumb away at the tears that have apparently fallen. Oh. She didn’t…she didn’t even know or realize, too caught up in the ecstasy and emotion of it all to notice that she’s crying.

She didn’t know.

“Do you not want to do this?” Killian asks her, the concern evident in his eyes, and she can feel him retreating until she moves her hands from his back and cups his cheeks, running her own thumbs over his cheeks, tracing the scar again.

“No, baby, no,” she promises, pushing back her frustration of having Killian still inside when he was just deliciously hitting all of the right places so that she can focus on what’s actually important right now. “I want to do this. I do. Don’t think otherwise. I didn’t even realize I was crying. I just – I love you so much, and I can’t…I don’t know how to express that with just my words. I think my body is letting out months of anxiety and sadness and relief over finally feeling like something in my life is right again.”

“For someone who claims not to be good with words, you were pretty good with them there.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, slowly moving inside of her again, just a simple push and pull. He’s got this affection in his eyes, this life, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to the way that he looks at her like she hung the moon and created the tides of the ocean. Her breath always catches when it happens, her heart swelling, and she never wants it to stop. “That was really good, Swan. I love you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing. Let’s just…you want to have this conversation a little later? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be doing?”

Killian chuckles, something deep and throaty, before his lips are consuming her and his hips are snapping into hers. She’ll take that as a yes.

There’s a heaviness to his body over hers, a meaning to each snap of his hips, but she can’t explain it. She can’t think about it too much. They’ve fought before, absolute blow outs, but it’s never been like these past few weeks. Joining together has never been quite like this. It’s not that the sex is better or worse or different. They’re both still just as skilled and as in tune with each other as they’ve been for years, but it’s different.

She’s been craving normalcy, but she’ll gladly take this different, gladly take getting her life back.

She’ll take having them back.

And as she violently trembles beneath him, everything becoming too much for her and the emotions spilling over once again, she knows that she’s got them.

#rising from the ashes #captain swan #captain swan fic #cs ff #cs fic

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artificialqueens · 6 years

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Paris (Trixya) - Lyonne-dlm & Saiphl

Well, we know November is far gone now, and that all of us are really getting into the Christmas mood, but we don’t really care that the Trixyawrimo is over now, we took one of their prompts, put into our beloved Soulmate AU, and added a pinch of Christmas Vibe, poured some ice and shook it.

Here is the result, and we hope you like it as much as we enjoyed writing it.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!

PARIS (Trixya) - Lyonne-dlm & Saiphl

Almost five years have passed since Katya and Trixie finally found each other on that art gallery, five years fully charged with the best memories and moments built by the two of them. From the perfectly awkward shared milkshake in the closest diner to the gallery where they met, to Trixie’s first concert. From moving in together and Katya’s weird style of decor, to their meticulously planned wedding, with the perfect flowers and the princess dress that Trixie had always dreamt about.

Katya still thought Trixie was her personal miracle, the only reason to keep her going; the only woman that could make her want to wait for her down the aisle all dressed in white and still cry each time she watched the video of the magical moment when they swore to love each other forever.

Trixie was holding an iron grip on Katya’s hands, looking intensely to her ice blue eyes, when they finally were allowed to say their vows. Katya cleared her throat and started talking. “Trixie, I’ve been drawing you since i was 16. I grew up watching you smile in my dreams. My heart broke when I saw you cry and I fell in love with you.” She sighed deeply, trying to keep her voice steady. “All those years before meeting you and when I was 27, I finally got to meet you for the first time in the gallery, got to Kiss you for the first time, got to hear your voice, know your name and to touch you.”, a soft smile spreaded on Trixie’s lips by the memory of that first moment, when she heard the raspy voice live. “I needed to, I had to make sure you were actually there.” Katya lifted a hand to touch Trixie’s face, still in disbelief of her being real. “I know that after you find your soulmate you are supposed to stop dreaming about them, but really how could i stop dreaming about you? my dreams are still about you Trixie ,Now i am 29 and i can barely wait one more second to be your wife.” Katya said, finally falling to her own emotion, and smiling fondly to her soulmate.

Shea reached to give Trixie a tissue to clear the tears off her face, still avoiding to ruin her perfectly beated face. Trixie looked at Katya, holding her hands again before saying her own vows. “It took eleven years and like a zillion of messages from Shea to find you, Katya and I have to admit that I was giving up on finding you… “ She said, giving a side look to Pearl, who was holding hands with an impressive brunette girl, who was leaning her head over Pearl’s shoulder. “That’s something I’m not proud of, thankfully, my friends kept the hoping up for me… Thank you Pearlie, Shea… this couldn’t be happening without you.” Trixie said, not looking to her friends, but knowing that was how she felt. “Every night, when I heard your voice saying I love you and good night baby, was the reason to keep moving every single day. I love you Katya… so much, and I can’t wait to be yours, forever.”

Katya’s tears were drawing soft lines on her face, Raja helping her to fix it without releasing their hands holding. They shared an intense gaze, and then kissed when they were allowed to, sealing their everlasting love promise.

Life had been awesome since then, and they were grateful of all the things they got to do and achieve together. What led them to that precise moment, when life changed forever for the both of them. They were taking a long vacation in France, taking their time to discover the country side of the most romantic places of the world.

Katya was drawing Trixie sitting on a fountain, so concentrated that she was totally foreign to the children playing nearby. “Katya… I need one of those”. Katya kept drawing, not even looking at her, only to pay attention when she felt a soccer ball hitting her leg and Trixie’s. A little freckled boy ran to them, the only brave enough to reach a couple of strangers and talk to them, asking for his ball. Trixie took the toy and gave it back to him, to hear him say “Merci Barbie,” making her laugh lightly.

Katya lifts her face from the sketchbook she was working with “a sketchbook? baby, we have thousands of those at home, but if you need it right now I can give you mine.”

“I need one of those Katya…” Trixie repeated, turning to look her in the eye, barely directing her arm to the group of playing children.

“Oh… oh, a child” Katya says, amused by her wife’s admission, “like, really need it or it’s just hypothetical, like the kid we raised a couple of years back, in our little place in Chicago?” Outraged, Trixie looked at Katya, hitting her arm lightly. she knew fully well they’d only imagined having kids.

“I’m just making sure we are on the same page baby” Katya takes her hand and drags her back to the bench they were sharing. “You know I want to raise a family with you, but you need to be conscious of how it will change our lives.” Katya looks at her, deadly serious, and saying matter of factly “we won’t be able to travel so often, and also, we’ll have to be… a little bit more discreet with… you know”

Trixie nodded to each point, already picturing herself holding their little bundle. “And will require a lot of time from the both of us, from the search of the donor, going through keeping them alive, to them leaving to college,” She said. Her mind was full of the images of their child riding a bike, going to the first day of school, doing their driving test.

Katya knew the precise moment when Trixie’s mind started going wild on the idea of the baby, and she snapped her back touching her cheek. “Don’t forget the sleepless nights when they get sick,” Katya said, in a kinda dark tone, remembering her own nights of fever along her childhood. “The science projects, the nightmare nights, them knowing their soulmate and when they get a heartbreak.” She continued, still putting over the table their own experience on finding each other. “We are going to have to be in everything and put them first in our decisions. Taking all that into consideration. Do you still want to do it Trix?“

“Yes Katya, I want to hear little steps running in our house, and wake up on sundays to find you painting with our baby,” she continued, her face lighting with the expectation. “I want to bake birthday cakes and plan themed parties… I want to be the mother of our child.”

==================

Months later, they were looking on Trixie’s laptop to the profiles of the sperm bank, trying to find the best option for the donor. After more than three hours and what seemed to be an endless parade of male specimens, Trixie finally found what she was looking for. “There he is Katya, he’s perfect… like perfect”, she said all full of excitement and waking Katya from the tiredness of looking straight to the laptop for so long.

What Katya saw when she looked at the screen, almost made her cackle. “Trixie… he looks like my father when he was young and my mother made sure to get into his pants.” Trixie gasped at that piece of her wife’s story… she hadn’t known before, and didn’t need to know that her-mother-in-law was the one jumping her father-in-law’s bones.

“And you just made him like 25% less perfect with that phrase Katya,” Trixie said humorless, but still liking the guy, who’s profile made him look like the male version of Katya. “Still, I like him, at least his features will help our baby to look like they’re your actual kid.”

Katya smiled fondly at her wife. she was seriously involved with the process of making their family growth happening, and it melted her heart. “You know what? you’re right, I like his face. The only thing that’s really different from me, is that his eyes are a bit of a different color. I think he can be the 50% of our baby that I cannot give.” She kissed Trixie’s temple, and the other blonde clicked the selection button on the page. Their journey was starting.

The following week, they went to an appointment with Trixie’s doctor, who explained them the whole fertilization process, and how they’d have to wait from two to three weeks before knowing if the whole thing had actually been successful and the little one will grow healthy inside Trixie’s womb.

From the day the eggs were put inside Trixie they were both excited and terrified. Katya taking care of her and driving from her studio, to Trixies job to pick her up and then going back together home. When the time finally came to take the pharmacy tests, Katya was holding Trixie on their bathtub, getting her relaxed with a bath bomb and a silly conversation about how Raja and Manila were finally agreeing on getting married in… four or five years. They left the tub when the water was getting cold and Katya was the one looking to the sticks of the tests because Trixie didn’t found the bravery to do it by herself.

“We… we made it! There’s a little human cub growing inside you Trix!” Katya yelled excitedly, hugging her wife tightly and lifting her up from the ground. “We’re going to be moms! I love you baby, so much, SO, SO, SO MUCH!” Katya kissed Trixie passionately and deeply, exactly the same way she’d done it since the very first time.

“My God we are going to be moms!” Trixie said, finally realizing the magnitude of what was happening. “Katya… we’re doing this, like actually doing it”, she breathed heavily. “I love you too, and I love baby cub… and love us all!” Trixie cried, lacing her arms behind Katya’s neck to find balance, she felt her legs so wobbly, that she doubted they could keep her up by themselves.

That same week, they went to the doctor and he confirmed the news, as expected, just one of the three eggs had worked, but it was well positioned and being careful along the first trimester, they would get a perfectly healthy newborn for the first weeks of april of the following year.

The first trimester they lived in constant stress, Katya making Trixie bring her along on walks because she was afraid to let Trixie alone, and cooking herself every meal Trixie ate. Trixie started having a very healthy lifestyle, quitting immediately coffee, wine and what was the most difficult for her to leave: sugary things. Every doctor appointment was a whole event. Those visits fit into a schedule composed of the morning pregnancy yoga routine that both Katya and Trixie performed religiously, then the enriched breakfast and Trixie’s pregnancy vitamins, then getting ready and driving to the doctor’s office.

When they reached the week twelve and they were told everything was going perfect, they were so happy, relieved and excited, that they invited all their friends to share the news about the new member of their family.

“Oh my God! the first one of the next generation, I’m so excited!” Shea said, looking pointedly to Trixie’s womb, trying to make it grow faster by looking at it. “I hope it’s a girl, so we’ll be able to spoil her to death.”

“You bet, I’ll make sure she’s a total brat”, Pearl said, getting a loud cackle from her girlfriend Violet and an annoyed look from Katya. “What? She will be my first niece, I have a moral obligation to spoil her rotten.” Violet nodded in agreement to her girlfriend, who lifted her face proudly to get support from her soulmate.

“Guys, we don’t even know if it’s a girl or a boy,” Raja said lazily, taking a sip of wine to create a dramatic effect to her words. “And we all know that it doesn’t matter what’s the sex of the baby, we’ll going to spoil them rotten, just because we’ll be madly in love with them.” The group of women agreed, and Trixie leaned her head on Katya’s shoulder.

Katya surrounded her with an arm and told her wife “we’re so screwed… this bunch of crazy women will create a monster that we have to raise to be a good human being.” Trixie laughed at how funny that sounded, because she knew deep inside that their friends will always take care, spoil, and make sure that the little one is safe, that was what family was meant to do. And all of them were family.

==================

October ran faster than they expected, the last thing they were talking about was the diner with their friends, and then Halloween was coming, giving room to a November that Trixie spent melting herself into each one of her cravings. Going from a full pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream mixed with candy corn; chocolate flakes and what Katya described as the biggest monstrosity created since the atomic bomb: A Gigantic Burrito drowned in melted cheese and covered with chili, apart of the chili inside.

They started decorating the baby’s room, painting the walls in soft mint green, with some rabbits and bears that Katya painted by herself, spending most of her rare free time on their kid space. Step by step, the room started shaping, first with a wooden crib, which Trixie dressed up with a quilted cover, and Katya installed shelves that would soon be filled with stuffed animals.

One day Katya arrived home with a package that was big enough to require help to be put inside their home. It had been sent by Katya’s mother in Boston, the rocking chair that Katya’s grandfather made when she was born, the last piece of furniture made by the man before passing away. Trixie asked Katya to put it beside the window. “I’ll sing them to sleep there, and I want to breastfeed our kid sitting on that piece of her mom’s story.

December finally came, with a heat wave that no one could actually explain. Trixie and Katya started the Christmas decorations, full of the hot pink Trixie loved so much, and part of the red that actually was a part of Katya’s personality. The little fireplace on their house held a full display of their wedding pictures, and below, a print of the first fuzzy image of their baby. Hung on the mantle were a hot pink christmas stocking with Trixie’s name embroidered in golden letters, and Katya’s all red and also embroidered but in a pearly black color. “I’ll put a hanger for the baby, Trix” Katya said, frowning at the empty space on the fireplace. “It’s their first Christmas, they deserve a stocking in the fireplace.”

“Katya, they won’t be here to open their gifts on Christmas morning, maybe we can wait to next Christmas, so we can actually get Christmas photoshoot and official family greeting cards,” Trixie said. She rubbed the slight curve of her womb that she popped buttons on her top to show off. “Don’t look at me like that, we haven’t even chosen a name for them, we can’t have a nameless stocking in the fireplace… not on my watch.”

It was the day before Christmas Eve when they had their 20th week appointment; Trixie’s bump kept growing, to the point she actually looked pregnant, and she finally got to wear a stupid denim overall that Katya hated, but tolerated because Trixie was very excited to wear it. “We will know today, you know?”, she said to Katya when they were driving to the doctor’s office. “It’s time to know if we’re having a boy or a girl… I’m nervous baby.”

“Everything will be fine, love. Also we will be better able to decide on a name once we know what sex they are.” They walked hand in hand to the office, and kept holding hands when the doctor finally let them know the baby’s gender. Both of them cried a stream of happy tears when the words ‘it’s a boy’ came out of their doctor’s mouth.

What followed was the largest argument they’ve had since they met. Trixie was nagging on the idea of a single name, something simple. Katya was spreading some names here and there. None of them actually coming to an agreement until Trixie said. “No Bible names, nothing Jew… please, nothing personal, it’s just I think they’re so common. Also, I don’t want none of those fancy ‘Blake Cinnamon’ thing, I respect our child enough for that matter.”

“Well, what do you think about gender neutral names?” Katya prompted ,”I mean, we don’t know what he’s going to want when he grow up, better to give him a starting point.” Trixie arched a brow, pondering the idea, and finding it endearing. Also, a gender neutral name would be a nice surprise for their friends, who will keep asking what the baby was.

“I’m on it, we’ll make some research at home” Trixie said, giving Katya some room to breathe. They finally had an agreement.

It was close to midnight when Trixie put aside the computer, totally frustrated and looking at Katya as if she had a third eye and palmed fingers. “No Katya, for the hundredth time today, my son will not be named Blake, and that’s a final word.”

“It’s a good name Trix, come on, you can’t just dismiss any friggin option I’m giving. And no, my son will not be named Avery… it sounds awful.” They looked at each other, fire, annoyance, and tiredness in their respective gazes. “If I didn’t know this baby is a boy, I’d name her Helena… just a face like Helen of Troy would cause such a war between two loving women.”

Trixie snapped her head, looking at Katya. “There it is, we haven’t considered greek names!” Katya looked at her, rubbing her chin and arching a brow in deep thought.

“You know, I’ve been studying the greek myths for the new collection, a reinvention of the classic figures. I’ve just read about the Trojan war, and it all happened because Paris couldn’t keep his hands to himself, and needed to kidnap Helen to him.” Katya explained, making Trixie huff in annoyance. “The point is, I guess Paris is a good name, like… gender neutral, and also will always remind us of the time we decided to become his mothers, as we were in France when we decided it to happen.”

Trixie nodded, “I guess it’s a good idea, Paris. Paris Mattel-Zamolodchikova, I really like it Katya.” She leaned to kiss her wife to seal the deal “His name is Paris, and I’ll embroider it tomorrow on his stocking, so he will have a proper presence in our house.”

“And on his first Christmas” Katya said enthusiastically, then put a hand on Trixie’s belly, who gave a little jump “did you felt that Katya?”, Trixie asked, amused. “Oh… Oh! there it is again, have you felt it?”

Katya’s eyes opened wide, looking from Trixie’s face to her hand on her belly. “That’s him. It’s Paris kicking!” The baby kicked one more time, making them excited, happy and teary. “He likes my voice baby, he really likes it.” Katya kissed Trixie once and then bent to talk to the bumping baby “Hello Paris, I’m Katya, your mom, and she is Trixie, your mommy, and we are very excited to know you’re our boy.”

“And right now, we’re going to bed, cause I know you’re not tired Paris, but I’m exhausted, and you go wherever I wanna go… at least now.” They both laughed, and Katya got off the couch to help Trixie to stand up.

Some minutes later, Trixie was fast asleep, leaning on Katya’s chest, a soft smile spreaded on her lips, before Katya whispered “Good night Baby. Good Night Paris. Merry Christmas. I love you both.”

#paris #saiphl #soulmate au #lesbian au #trixyawrimo #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #trixya #raja gemini #manila luzon #shea coulee #sasha velour #pearl liaison #violet chachki #rpdr fanfiction #lyonne dlm

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fatemenagerieorder · 2 years

Note

To answer your question yes, all those asks are prompt asks and to answer your other question you could just have BB timelooping Castoria so she thinks she's punishing Draco for the firs time when in face she's been broken from riding Castoria while she slept. Castoria only realizes she's permanently broken Draco in the scenario of the last ask. Draco will get re-summoned though. And then BB might have to have Castoria repeat the whole thing.

Totally didn't forget to break Draco within that last ask

Oh well, can't be helped. I can't even remember right now if there are more Draco-Castoria asks above this, but if there aren't, if I do end up compiling the whole thing into one post, I'll probably do some retcon editing or something to acknowledge some additional points or whatever

#Anonymous

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toxikku · 6 years

Text

87. “I didn’t wanna wake you up. You just looked so peaceful.”

The old duck sat on the large worn brick, thoughtful, his leg bouncing on his knee slowly as he skimmed the pages of the book he had rested in his lap. His black eyes narrowed at the text, then squinted, before the shine on his specs strengthened as he straightened abruptly.

“That’s it!” he mused in fascination under his breath, grinning widely at having found the information he was looking for. For a brief second, he had that revelation in his clutches and, be darned, he was proud of it!

That revelation meant nothing to him, he realised. He quickly grew mildly frustrated, settling the book down on the rock next to him and sitting straight. He folded his arms in a perplexed and almost pouty manner, as he tried to decipher something – anything – to get past the realization he’d just made.

His gaze shot up at the sound of grumbling, across to other side of the kindling flame – the sound of his nephew uttering blissful nonsense in his sleep. Middle youngest, the lad was, often in blue and often lost in that big blue ocean of danger. Almost exactly like his Uncle Scrooge in ambition and adventure.

Scanning the book’s cover, Scrooge’s expression was blank as he contemplated it his options. His stare lit like the fire burning before him, and he scrambled to his feet, about to call in excitement.

“Dew--!”

He cut himself off immediately, noting the darkness surrounding them and the expression on the child’s face. Scrooge reeled at the obvious tranquillity, afraid of speaking any further and disturbing his nephew. Perhaps his discovery could have waited until the morning, when the lad had fully rested? The elder had not rested yet himself…

His amber-glinted eyes followed the smoke rising from the fire. It escaped through a quadrilateral hole in the tall ceiling, boasting of how easily it had passed the hurdle the ducks had not. No results had come from the pair’s joint attempts to reach that exit, and had since concluded it pointless.

The only other features in this room were the darkly-lit walls, full of ancient text but otherwise nonsense, and two doors that refused to open. Nothing in this room was helpful, aside from his nephew who was currently sound asleep under two blankets.

Scrooge sighed softly, his gaze grim and stumped as he watched the dancing embers. It was typical, he supposed, that the both of them would encounter this type of trouble. A few hours earlier, they had been running excitedly into this room, a large aged boulder hot on their tails. There was so much adrenalin in that moment, so much fun, so much thrill – and of course, danger.

Scrooge hadn’t much time to fret as the door had closed behind them and brought the boulder to a stop. Both had stood there, thinking, staring, processing what had just happened. Then snickered, giggled, and laughed at the sheer ridiculousness that they had just taken part in.

That hadn’t lasted when they came to a literal dead end. This room hadn’t spoken its secrets in twenty minutes, and continued to do so until this very point in time. Nothing useful was in the inscriptions here – nothing. This room had no cheat code and was very cruel in giving an overload of information that helped nothing but their impending insanity.

Adventure was all good fun – but Scrooge both wondered and worried if they’d ever escape this infernal prison. He was burdened deeply by the fact that Dewey could be home safe and sound, maybe even with an ice cream. McDuck was ever confident, yes, but several hours had passed in this room and no progress to escape had been made.

He rose to his feet, his eyes low and tired as he walked towards the backpack to his left.

If this revelation wasn’t helpful, then…

“OW!”

His foot crashed into an object covered in darkness, and he yelped a muffled curse has he hit the floor. Instinct kicked in on time, however, and his hands shot in front of him to halt any damage to his face. He grumbled to himself until the light breathing of his nephew no longer reached his ears, and turned his head slowly.

Dewey sat straight, awoken by the thud and cry of his uncle. His expression was that of worry and confusion as he saw Scrooge pick himself up.

Brushing himself off, Scrooge looked to his nephew apologetically.

“Ah, sorry, lad,” he mumbled quickly.

The duckling shrugged, not seeming to reflect on his sleeping pattern. He blinked at the cotton surrounding him and looked at his uncle in confusion.

“Where’d this other blanket come from?” he inquired, but was returned a shrug.

To begin with, the other’s answer had been hesitant but it picked itself up quickly enough. “Cold is Antarctica,” he stated quickly. “Ae’ve no need of it.”

He didn’t divulge anything else – not that the shiver in his sleeping nephew had prompted him to hand the blanket over.

“Oh, uh… yeah, right, right.” Dewey’s eyes traced the floor awkwardly, then he spoke again, “Soooo, we still trapped forever?”

“Totally, totally trapped,” Scrooge returned sheepishly.

Dewey nodded and decided to accept this was his life now.

“Although perhaps not forever, me boy!”

His expression brightened, and he looked at Scrooge excitedly. “You found a way out?!”

“Welllllll… maybe,” was his answer.

“Oh. Maybe. Cool! What’ve you got, Uncle Scrooge? Does it involve death and danger, not in that order?”

“Ye—no!” Scrooge stopped himself, then paused. “Maybe not death.”

“Awww, but impending death is so much fun!”

Scrooge’s brow furrowed worriedly. “I assure you death is not on the agenda, Dewey.”

He ignored the pouting expression on Dewey’s face as he walked back to pick up the book, then flicked through a few pages. Walking around the fire, he put the page before the child.

A hand-sized cube was sketched on the page, highly detailed and holding several indentations. Its vertical face was bright, decorated with a gem.

“I was going to ask you this earlier… Have you seen an object like this? Something—”

“Oh, yeah, totally,” Dewey replied, waving a dismissive hand with a chill expression. “That’s that thing I picked up in the other room.”

“Wh-what? You… you had that the entire time?!” Scrooge exclaimed, his hand clutching the side of his head as he stared at the book in bafflement. “I never saw you pick that up…”

“I was sneaky about it because… uh…” Dewey trailed off uneasily.

“Yes?” Scrooge asked, staring expectantly.

“Never mind, it’s lame. Anyway, what about it?”

Scrooge paced to the other side of the room, where the door they had not come through stood. It was surrounded by four circular indentations, embedded into its stone border.

“I knew there was more to these marks than pretty decoration…” He gestured to the door, then glared at the book in frustration. “Unfortunately, this book has extremely obscure chapter names… and I can understand Shakespeare!”

Dewey squinted, then his eyes widened. He looked to his backpack immediately.

“The gem can fit into those slots! Or… one of them,” he stated. “This plan is a failure; I only have one cube!”

“Where is that cube, anyway?”

Dewey pulled himself to his feet and waddled over to the bag, then after finding nothing, looked around the room.

“It was in here…” he mumbled, then had a realization. “…you tripped over it.”

“O…oh,” Scrooge mused, cringing slightly. “Ae see.”

Dewey picked up the object that had once been clouded in darkness, and brought it to the light. Its face was illuminated by the fire, causing its onlookers to stare in wonder.

“Wait…”

Scrooge readjusted his specs, blinking as he noticed more than one light, coloured differently.

“The… is that another gem?” As Dewey twirled the cube… “And another?”

Suddenly it clicked. It all made sense.

“Yeah, it has it on four sides – but don’t we only have one cube? I didn’t see any other cubes in that room…” Dewey looked confused, but he dwelled on the mystery, on the door before them. “Unless…”

Scrooge’s expression grew chipper as Dewey’s eyes followed the curved line of indentations.

“…we use the same cube for all of them?”

“Aye, lad!” Scrooge grinned, then turned to the door. “The only question is: what order?”

Dewey looked at the walls.

“You read that stuff, right?”

Scrooge waved a dismissive hand.

“Yes, yes – all nonsense, though. Nothing at all useful. Personally, I think the person who made this trap wanted be an extra teaspoon of sadistic.” He huffed in annoyance. “I translated all of that… I mean all of it…”

“What did it say?” Dewey asked in confusion.

“Sentences of the same directions that ultimately lead nowhere. South, north, west, and east. Repeatedly,” Scrooge stated, looking puzzled. “Not sure how an ancient GPS would help someone here…”

The younger duck walked over, concentrating on the circles embedded into the trimming. He glanced back to the dark multi-coloured walls, noting the several dots between nonsense, then turned back to the door.

“Hmm…”

His hand moved, clicking one coloured gem into one slot, and then continuing.

“Dewey, you’re going to be here a –”

There was a sudden loud ‘THUD’. The sound of whatever lock the door had unlocking. The sound of the door scraping its stone sides, of its bottom rising to reveal light.

Scrooge looked at Dewey in shock.

“Ta-da!” he responded with a grin, chucking the cube up and down in his hands.

“How did you…”

“I was just so cool the door listened to me!” he exclaimed proudly, pointing at himself. Scrooge didn’t look convinced… he needed an explanation otherwise it would drive him nuts. “I just… acted like the holes were a compass, I guess. Rotated it until it worked.”

Scrooge looked gobsmacked.

“Of course! OF COURSE!” he exclaimed, laughing at himself. “Why didn’t I think of that…? In that case, I withdraw my comment about the trap creator – they’re LESS sadistic than they were before!”

He looked at Dewey, who tilted his head.

“Well done!” he praised, ruffling his hair with pride. Dewey’s eyes sparkled a little, and he folded his arms, trying to look cool.

“Naturally!”

Scrooge grinned and then walked over to the fire.

“Come on, lad! Let’s go find the others, before your Uncle Donald throws a fit.” He began packing their belongings.

“If he hasn’t already,” Dewey replied with a small snicker. He blinked. “Hey… Uncle Scrooge?”

“Yes, Dewey?” The duck set about the fire.

“You could’ve just woke me up, you know? We could’ve been outta’ here aaaaaaaaaaa-ages ago,” Dewey spoke with amused confusion.

Scrooge faltered a little.

“To be honest, it is relatively late – if it hadn’t been for that cube of yours, I would have left you to sleep,” he stated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t wanna’ wake you up. You just… looked so peaceful.”

He looked down at the calming fire, watching it fade.

“So…?”

“In this type of life, Dewey – sleep like that is a rare occasion.” He stood and turned to the other. “Ae wouldn’t want to rob you of that while you still have it.”

Dewey chuckled a little.

“Why is sleep such a big deal? It’s just… sleep, right?”

Scrooge didn’t respond.

Sleep eventually becomes tragic or non-existent. After a person has lived such a long and eventful life, the things they most regret and fear invade through nightmares.

Peaceful sleep was a rarity Dewey didn’t know about.

Having finished cleaning and gathering their things, Scrooge made for the door, jolly once more.

He held out Dewey’s backpack, then grinned slightly.

“…race back?”

“I ALREADY STARTED, OLD MAN!”

Dewey had snatched the bag and was racing off through the door.

“Hey! PLAY HONEST!” Scrooge yelled with a grin.

He pulled his backpack onto his shoulders and quickly bolted after his nephew.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dewey duck #scrooge mcduck #ducktales reboot #writing prompt #ducktales fanfiction #fanfiction #angst #fluff #hope this is good! sorry i got so carried away lmao #hope you like it <3 #the reason dewey had the thing is because he was planning to give it to scrooge as a present if their adventure fell through aaa

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blame-canada · 7 years

Text

Me Too - Kyvid

David has had a crush on Kyle for months that feel like decades. It’s driving him insane, but the taunting of a traditional holiday plant hung pathetically above him might give just the right push to get the boy of his dreams- or, he guesses, embarrass himself to death trying.

Hello my friends! This is a fill for the prompt “Mistletoe” for the November 2017 South Park Drabble Bomb. I hope you enjoy it! My love to @mcnuggyy, @valzilla and the rest of the Kyvid gang for their support! Read it on AO3 here.

Kyle has been standing nine feet away from him for almost ten minutes. He is looking anywhere but at him, but mostly at his own shoes, and David’s palms are getting sweaty and he’s pretty sure he might faint before they even start dinner. They haven’t spoken to each other once and yet they’re locked in conversation; one that neither of them knows how to address, or may even want to, David corrects for his selfish, overeager heart. Still, he can’t help but feel as though Kyle is just as painfully aware of the ceiling as he is.

He’s seen this before. They’ve all seen this before, and it’s part of why David feels so frustrated watching Kyle nurse generic store-brand punch in one hand with his back to the snack table. The music still beats steadily behind them but it’s distant enough not to drown them out if they were to actually speak aloud. They both must know what comes next, David insists to himself, and yet they’re both left pretending they don’t see what’s right above them. It mocks David, hangs merrily beside a light with a bit of fishing line stabbed into the ceiling with a safety pin. It’s shoddy and lame, just like this party, and just like David who has just told himself once more to get a grip and acknowledge the elephant in the room- or mistletoe, as it were.

For a minute he fears that maybe he is over-analyzing Kyle’s every move, because God knows that he’s been doing that for months already. Maybe Kyle truly hasn’t noticed, and David’s upper lip and neck and hands are getting slick with nervous sweat for nothing. Though it’s part of his charm, sometimes David wishes Kyle had a bit more of a clue. The dampness feels cold under his nose and he sniffs, rubbing at it quickly, and he catches Kyle’s swift glance up before it darts back down and hides from him once more. David is surely dying inside.

He wishes this wasn’t hosted by the school. They do this holiday party that’s like dinner and a dance in one each December, and it costs money but they all shell it out for some reason and go like it’s something worth seeing. It never, ever is, and they leave just to make fun of it on Twitter in a few hours, which is the real fun of it. David doesn’t know so well, though. He doesn’t usually go to these things. They never seem worth it when that money could go to something much more important. He’d been coaxed into it this year though, and now here he is, frozen in place with his crush right across from him, awkwardly ignoring him as the traditional command to kiss him signals like an air traffic controller from above.

David sighs.

He lets his shoulders slump, his eyes fall to the floor, and any of his prior confidence deflate. Honestly, they didn’t even spend a lot of time together anymore. Part of that was because David recognized when he was getting in over his head about things and had backed off, but still. There is no excuse for why Kyle gives him such anxiety when he usually finds himself so effortlessly casual with people. He likes a challenge, but he’s not liking them so much anymore. Now he just wants to go home and wallow in his playlist of sad old songs his mother likes to sing along to for the first hour of his usual three hour moping session.

David starts to turn away on a squeaky heel to accept defeat when suddenly there’s a tugging on his arm to keep him in place. He looks back and sees Kyle up close, with his soul-deep green eyes and wrinkled brow and lower lip between his teeth as he nips at it nervously. It’s one of David’s favorite habits that he’s observed in all his time staring in class, because it just looks so cute on him. His braces are charming and they make his smile boyish and sweet, and he loves it. This Kyle is not smiling however, and it wipes the bliss from David’s memories clear.

“W-wait,” he stutters, and as he realizes what he’s done he recoils sharply so that he’s standing up straight and a foot further away from him. Even in the dimmer light David can see that his face and neck are going red, and the bliss is back.

“What?” David asks, because he doesn’t want to be the one to say it, desperately does not want to. Not because he’s too afraid, because he’s totally not, but so it validates some of his feelings just a bit more to hear from the other party. He wants to know for certain that he’s not being pushy, and the best way is to let Kyle take the lead. He also knows that Kyle is so oblivious sometimes that a first move is something impossible to wait for, but maybe this stupid mistletoe will give him the boost he needs. Maybe he’s not crazy. Maybe-

“There’s, um,” Kyle stumbles over his words, and it’s so different from the confident debater that David is used to. It’s cute but he also doesn’t like seeing him uncomfortable. Then Kyle ruins it. “Your tie is messed up,” he says, quietly, and David kind of wishes he’d been able to just walk away, because all the hope in his heart has vanished completely. He looks down and, sure enough, it’s loosened and started to slip down so that it hangs crookedly around his neck. He sighs again and reaches for it, but then realizes he can’t tie it when it’s actually on him and has to take it off to do it right, so he’s stuck. The nervous sweat returns and he’s praying he doesn’t smell, but he doesn’t think he does, especially because he can still smell his father’s cologne on his wrists. Why did he put so much effort into this stupid dance?

“Do you need help?” Kyle asks, just as timidly as when he pointed out the blunder in the first place, and with a genuine flush to his cheeks, David nods. He could do it, if he went to the bathroom or something, but this meant Kyle would have to get close to him, and just the step forward he has to make sends David’s blood rushing through his veins hot and tingly. Kyle reaches for his neck and starts to pull his tie apart and David swallows, hard.

“I don’t know if you’re the same, but I can’t do it on myself, only on a table or something. This is fine though, because it’s not like, on me, so it isn’t reversed,” Kyle babbles, but David doesn’t care because his delicate fingers are inches from his throat and it’s such an oddly intimate sensation that he’s stunned to silence anyway. “I think ties are a bit much to expect from us for these dances, don’t you think? But we always do it. I wonder why we bother. We should all just come in jeans and t-shirts next time. Or better, bring a bunch of glowsticks. What if we just like, flash-mobbed in? Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Kyle blinks at him a few times before David realizes that not only is he finished tying his tie, but he’s waiting for him to respond. He still can’t think though, because Kyle’s hands are still resting on his chest, the slightest amount of pressure on his rib cage that combats his quick-breathing lungs. “Yes,” David says, and Kyle looks a bit defeated, because David knows that it’s the weakest response he could have come up with when put on the spot with an angel in the room. “I’m sorry,” he admits, “I actually missed what you said.” He prays he hasn’t screwed things up yet with his idiot mouth.

“I just-” Kyle cuts himself off. “Well,” he tries again, and finally, he snarls in the back of his throat in annoyance. “Ugh, whatever,” he says, and then, he places each hand on David’s shoulders with a bit of force, and leans forward to press their lips together.

It’s less of a press and more of a push, with more force than necessary and their positioning not exactly right and uncomfortable, but eventually David’s brain catches up and he realizes that actually, Kyle Broflovski is kissing him, like, right now. As soon as he makes this revelation he fixes their match-up so that it melts together, and he lets his eyes flutter closed at the same time that Kyle’s do. If there was an angel choir around him, they would be singing Kyle’s name in a heavenly tone that vibrates as quickly as his heart beats. He feels like he might explode and also like he might fall apart at any moment, and when Kyle pulls away from him, David had never thought his lips felt so bare in his life. The first thing he does is pull his hand up quickly to touch his lips where Kyle’s had just been, as though shocked that he’s still here.

Kyle looks very nervously up at him. “That wasn’t for no reason, there’s-”

“Mistletoe,” David breathed, “yeah. I know.”

“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to do it for no reason too, because I would! Um, I would. I think you’re pretty. Pretty handsome! Is pretty okay? Your eyelashes are so long,” Kyle chatters, his eyes wide and his cheeks cherries, and in the background, David is faintly aware of the music changing. He’s also faintly aware that the rest of the world maybe exists, but he really can’t be bothered to consider anything else when freckled cheeks are blazing and soft lips are bitten, and words are being tossed into the thick air between them with no meaning assigned to them besides how beautiful the music they encompass is to David’s ears.

David takes action, because Kyle is still talking, and looking worse and worse for wear with each syllable he spits out. He cups Kyle’s face in his hands, touching the soft skin of his hot face with just the tips of his fingers and thumbs, and kisses him again. He can practically feel Kyle melting beneath his touch, and he has to wonder just how much sooner he could have lived this reality if he’d gotten his head out of his ass. He could have been doing this exact thing for months, from the first time that Kyle’s ‘good morning’ had him reeling and oh so suddenly gasping for air. It’s been a long time of thinking and fantasizing, and now it’s here, and David is kissing Kyle in the hallway at a dumb school dance that doesn’t matter.

When they disconnect, David watches Kyle’s eyes open slower than his, blinking gently open under auburn lashes that dust the stars on his skin. When they look at his, their green is so brilliantly emphasized by such a perfectly timed green light from the dance floor that he looks ethereal, different, even more lovely than he’d ever daydreamed about. He realizes too late that his hands are still on Kyle’s face, and he brings them to his chest quickly, the nerves making his face burn too. Kyle makes a sound like a giggle, and David’s heart soars.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” he says, embarrassingly shaky, “I’ve just, been thinking about doing that for so long.”

“Really?” Kyle asks, his eyes wide and sparkling, so bright, so wonderful.

David smiles. “Really.”

Kyle leans in closer, grips him by his lapels, and boldly kisses his cheek, chirping into his ear, “Me too.”

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zimmerdouche · 7 years

Text

Abominability

“You know what they say about big feet."

“Yeah, that the creature that owns them will fucking kill you.”

***

Based on the OMGCPumpkins Prompt: "Person A takes Person B to their mountain lodge where they get snowed in. It wasn’t going to be too bad of problem, just wait it out. Until they try to leave and realize that they are trapped on the mountain with a yeti that has destroyed their only method of transportation."

Notes:

AN: Archive warnings won't apply until the next chapter, at the earliest. This prompt required more setup than I initially thought it would. It's also posted... seven days after it's relevant, but I hope you all enjoy regardless. :)

Read it on AO3!

Snow has always been a foreign concept to Caitlin Farmer. She’s seen it plenty of times, when the temperature at Samwell drops right after the new year, but it’s simply a reminder that Samwell, Massachusetts is not her California hometown.

She sits on the wooden porch of a cabin in Northern Maine, watching flurries turn into heavier snowfall as Dex pelts Nursey with a hastily fashioned snowball. Chris sits beside her with a matching mug half full of lukewarm coffee. Dex and Nursey are much more at home in wintery weather than she and her West Coast boyfriend could ever be.

Dex meanders over to escape the frozen downpour, Nursey following closely behind. Their eyes are bright and they have smiles on their faces. Will? Dex – one is too intimate for their new relationship and the other isn’t intimate enough – his face is bright pink from the cold and it makes Caitlin want to wrap another scarf around his neck.

“Storm picked up right when the radio said it would,” Dex says, sounding slightly like he’s had the wind knocked out of him. “We should probably get inside.”

“There should still be coffee,” Chris says, sipping at his own. “You two idiots need to warm up from shoving snow down each others’ pants.”

Dex squawks and Nursey throws his head back to laugh at full volume. Caitlin lets out a chuckle as well, knowing fully that Chris is hiding a shit eating grin in his mug. “I second that motion,” she says, standing up. “Everyone, inside.”

There’s still half a pot of coffee, just like Chris said there was, and they drain it while Nursey stokes a wood fire filling the hearth. Dex brings in firewood to make sure it stays dry and Chris builds a blanket and pillow nest large enough for the four of them.

“This is normally a summer house,” Dex says, settling in between Caitlin and Nursey with a mug. “I wasn’t sure how well it would hold up in a blizzard.”

There’s a roar outside and he tenses. Nursey claps a hand on his shoulder. “Chill, babe. It’s just the storm.”

“I know it’s the storm, I just-”

“If I know your family,” Chris starts, “this cabin will hold up fine.” He grins. “If anyone should be worried, it’s me and Cait. We’re not built for the snow.”

Dex rolls his eyes and Nursey chuckles. “We’ll be fine,” Caitlin says, planting a kiss on Dex’s cheek. He turns pink, like he’s been out in the sun too long. Nursey rests a hand on Caitlin’s upper arm and gives it a squeeze. Dex laces his fingers with Chris’.

They’ll be fine.

***

“We’ll be fine,” Dex says, surveying the snowfall the next afternoon, well after the blizzard passed. “There are shovels and chains for tires in the shed out back, we’ll just have to shovel our way to the road once the snowplows come through. It won’t take long.”

“Like we don’t have all the time in the world,” Caitlin says, trailing behind him with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “We don’t have to be back at school until after New Year’s. It’s not even Christmas yet.”

Dex grunts in reply and steps off the porch. “I’m gonna go see if my car’s okay. The cold may have killed the battery, and I wouldn’t be surprised if some snow got under the hood and froze over.” He stiffens. “God, I’ll have to call my uncle Ian.”

“Uncle Ian can suck my dick,” Chris says, joining them outside. Dex starts toward his mini SUV, half buried in a snowbank by a cluster of fir trees. Nursey wanders outside and follows Dex to the car.

“Holy shit!”

Caitlin and Chris make their way over to see Dex in a squat, inspecting the snow on the opposite side of the car, and Nursey standing over him while they bicker.

“You totally put these here, Will, right?” Like-”

“No, Derek, I didn’t put them here, I’ve been outside for like two minutes-”

“They’re MASSIVE-”

“Thank you for letting me know, I wasn’t sure-”

“What’s massive?” Chris interrupts.

“These footprints!”

“These what now?” Caitlin steps closer to the other two men so that she can see what they’re seeing in the snow.

Stamped on the ground are footprints the size of her torso. The tracks come from the woods before stopping and doubling back next to the original path.

“Holy shit,” she repeats as Chris settles next to her. He’s silent, but his eyes are wide, and he has one gloved hand covering his mouth in shock.

“I can’t believe- I thought it was a fucking, legend, to keep us from being here year-round, fuck,” Dex sputters, standing at his full height.

“What legend?” Chris asks.

“A Yeti,” Dex breathes, resting his hands on the back of his neck. “A snow monster.”

“Chill, I thought you meant the cooler, thanks for clarifying.”

“Fuck off, oh my god-”

“Yetis are from the Himalayas, by the way,” Chris interjects, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Jesus Christ, okay, fine, an Abominable Snowman,” Dex admits. “It’s not a sasquatch or a bigfoot though, this is a monster that shows up in snow only. I’m still calling it a Yeti though.”

“Fair enough.”

There’s a brief silence that Nursey finally breaks. “Hey, listen, it’s probably just someone playing a prank, okay? Ian- or no, not Ian, fuck, who is it that tries to put itching powder in your sock drawer at every Thanksgiving? Owen?” He rests his hand on Dex’s lower back.

“Owen, yeah.”

“Owen’s probably just pulling a prank on us for claiming the cabin during the winter, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Caitlin has never heard Dex sound this scared, or… small.

Nursey looks over at her and Chris behind his boyfriend’s back. ‘Say something,’ he mouths.

“Yeah, like, if it were an actual animal, the tracks would go back on themselves so that we couldn’t see them so clearly,” Chris says, pulling from what remains of his Eagle Scout knowledge. “The here and back are side by side, that’s something that happens when someone wants you to see the tracks, so it’s probably a human trying to scare us.”

“See? Nothing to worry about.” Nursey shifts his arm so that it’s thrown over Dex’s shoulders. He turns the two of them away from the prints and toward the cabin. “Besides, you know what they say about big feet,” he jokes, flashing a wink at Dex.

Dex’s jaw is tense. “Yeah, that the creature that owns them will fucking kill you.”

“Oh boy, well, good thing the creature doesn’t exist.”

Caitlin sidles up on Dex’s opposite side and mirrors Nursey’s position. “Did your car start okay?” she asks, trying to distract him.

“Fuck,” Dex spits. “I didn’t even- Fuck.”

“Call Ian anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m going to. In the meantime,” he says, stepping onto the porch. “We’ve got to do anything we need to do outside during the daytime.”

Nursey tries to object before Chris shushes him. Dex continues, staring at the now setting sun. “Please, you three, even if you don’t believe me, just… Humor me? I want to keep you safe.”

“Awh,” Caitlin and Chris sigh as the latter opens the door.

“Pinky promise, babe,” Nursey says as he walks inside. “Our next snowball fight will be at high noon. This cabin ain’t big enough for the two of us.”

Dex chuckles. “It’s plenty big for four, though.”

“That it is, Poindexter, that it is.”

Dex sheds his coat and walks into the tiny kitchen that houses the landline, since none of their phones have had service since they arrived.

“This yeti is probably a family legend,” Caitlin says. She plops down on the couch in front of the fireplace. “I know a thing or two about those.”

“Oh?” Chris sits down on the floor in front of her, next to where Nursey has settled himself. “Please, Farms, tell us more.”

“Chupacabras. My abuela raises goats and is very superstitious.”

Nursey plants a kiss on Chris’ forehead. “Mmm, well, there are no goats here. Just people.”

“Sexy people,” Chris points out. He rests a hand on Nursey’s hip. “Very sexy people.”

“Wow, okay, I see where I stand in this relationship,” Dex chirps as he walks back into the main living area of the cabin. He has a relaxed smile on his face as he grabs a blanket and claims a spot on the rug next to Nursey. “Ian says he’ll be here tomorrow morning. Chewed me out for being here in December, though. He’s even more superstitious than I am.”

Nursey buries his face into Dex’s neck. “We’ve just got to wait for another twelve hours, then. Chill.”

“Literally, chill, the fire’s getting low,” Dex grumbles, moving to stoke it before Nursey pulls him back.

“I like C’s idea for keeping warm.”

Caitlin laughs as both Dex and Chris turn pink. “Well, we’ve got twelve hours.”

“Holy shit.”

This time, everyone laughs, and for a while it’s easy to forget about what may lurk in the woods.

#omgcpumpkins #omgcp #halloween fic #omgcp fic #polyfarms #my writing #ahhh i feel like shit this is so fuckin late #several gritted teeth emojis

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wanderingcas · 7 years

Text

Week 4: Destiel Fluff

[Thank you, everyone, for your wonderful submissions to Week 4 of Spn Fanfic Submission Thursday!! So many wonderful fics in this list. If you want to participate in next week’s fic submissions, check out the schedule!

Please signal boost so we can get these great fics circulating!]

A Wonderful Place by @expatgirl

A case that isn’t a case is frustrating, until it isn’t.

Teen and Up. 3k words. (Complete)

[Case Fic, Dragons, Kissing, Snow, Hospitals, Christmas Fluff]

lazy mornings, coffee cups and cuddles by @woefulcas

dean brings cas coffee in bed, they cuddle and kiss

General Audience. .5k words. (Complete)

[hunter husbands, fluff, lazy morning cuddles, seriously tooth rotting fluff]

You May Say That I'm A Dreamer by @envydean

Dean’s been a fan of the men’s figure skating for as long as he can remember. He’s always been fascinated by how the contestants move on the ice, contort their elegant bodies into beautiful positions and land each jump with grace – not that anyone at school knows this, they only know Dean as the tough-man soccer player. When Dean’s favourite under twenty-one’s figure skater transfers to his school, sparks fly.

General Audience. 2.3k words. (Complete)

[Figure Skater!Cas, Fanboy!Dean, first dates, first kiss, High School AU]

For the Dancing and the Dreaming by @cas-essence

Dean can sing after all. He’s just never let himself before.

General Audience. 1.6k words. (Complete)

[established relationship, team free will, singing dean, dancing dean]

pure & simple by @goodgriefdean

The first time Sam sees Dean and Castiel kiss, it’s just like any other day in his life.

General Audience. 309 words. (Complete)

[fluff, sam’s pov, drabble]

Bewitched by @all-i-need-is-destiel

It’s not easy to be in love with a witch. (A story about singing parrots, talking furniture and grumpy cats)

General Audiences. 4.1k words. (Complete)

[Alternate Universe, Witch Castiel, Fluff, Humor, Friends to Lovers, Pining]

I Beg of You Now by @cuddlemonsterdean

Dean was never able to give Sam the birthday parties he wanted when they were kids, and he can’t even remember if he was ever invited to somebody else’s. Probably not.

He’s got no idea what to expect.

That’s why he’s secretly relieved when Jody asks if he can help her out in the kitchen. Dean loves cooking, and a kitchen is a place he knows his way around, even when it’s not his own. Jody had sounded almost comically grateful when he said yes immediately, but other than that she doesn’t seem to think the whole thing is such a big deal. But for Dean, it is. Birthday parties are a thing normal people do, and Dean isn’t normal people. He sucks at those things. He doesn’t want to mess it up for Claire.

So, Dean’s kind of nervous.

Cas, though, Cas is worse.

Explicit. 10k words. (Complete)

[Post S11, Developing Relationship, First Time, Touch-Starved Dean]

The One with the Fanfic Competition by @tenoko1

Started as a prompt fill that turned into accidental!fic due to popular demand. In which friends and family of the Winchesters have gotten into a secret weekly fanfiction battle for best scenario of Dean and Cas finally getting together. That is, until Castiel finds out.

Teen and Up. 81.6k words. (WIP)

[Fluff, Humor, Angst, hobbies and therapy for PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn]

Ward 37 by anon

When Dean is admitted onto ward 37 yet again, he doesn’t expect his nurse to be cute – they never are. But, on the night of his admittance, Nurse Novak is lying in bed awaiting his first day on a new ward.

General Audience. 54.6k words. (Complete)

[fluff, romance, friendship, happy ending]

under the stars by anon

Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak attend the same high school. One fits into the crowds and stands out, whereas the other’s only wish is to blend in. When their paths meet… let’s just say it isn’t all a fairytale.

General Audience. 38.5k words. (Complete)

[friendship, fluff, love, cute]

The Floor is Lava by @we-all-like-destiel

What starts as a simple game of ‘The Floor Is Lava’ between college roommates Dean and Cas, slowly progresses into a romantic relationship.

Teen And Up Audiences. 3.8k words. (Complete)

[Dean Winchester, Castiel Novak, College AU, One Shot]

untitled by @deanandcasinlove

Dean and Cas re enact the scene from the Notebook

Teen and Up. 400 words. (Complete)

[Destiel, Supernatural, the Notebook]

On Angel Babies by @ricketyjukeboxer

After Castiel’s most recent brush with death, Dean asks him about his childhood.

General Audiences. 1k words. (Complete)

[Fluff, Angel Origins, Resurrected!Cas]

It’s Not a Date, Dammit by @deanwinchcester

It’s only after they’ve gotten off the roller coaster when Dean admits to himself that while he is trying to show Cas that being human isn’t all that bad, he’s also discluding Sam from some things because they’re kinda sorta self-indulgent. Because maybe he does want to hold Cas’s hand and kiss him but that’s nobody else’s business but his… And Cas’s.

General audiences. 1k words. (Complete)

[Friends to Lovers, Sam Ships It, Castiel in the Bunker, Human Castiel]

happy by @hell-krieg

Dean has never seen Cas so happy before

General audience. 326 words. (Complete)

[clueless!Sam, fluff, destiel, kissing, destiel fluff]

This Is Not a Date by @babybluecas

Just two best friends having a dinner out. On Valentine’s Day.

Teen and Up. 3.4k words. (Complete)

[Fluff, Valentine’s Day, First Date]

Beyond the Bluefrosts by anon

Newly eighteen, Dean Winchester finds himself in an arranged marriage with an angel, half a world away.

Explicit. 14.6k words. (Complete)

[arranged marriage, friends to lovers, au - fantasy, steampunk, fluff]

Solstice by @saminzat

Finding some quiet time isn’t easy when you’re a hunter. Winter forests and poncho blankets can work true miracles about that.

Teen and Up. 1.7k words. (Complete)

[Canon compliant, Fluff, Romance]

Wandered Many a Weary Foot by @lies-unfurl

Castiel decides that he wants to kiss Dean everywhere on New Year’s Eve. Everywhere, as in, in every single time zone as one year turns to the next.

Dean goes along with the plan.

Teen and Up. 5.6k words. (Complete)

[Fluff and Crack, Light Angst, Future Fic]

Happiness Is a Warm Cheeseburger by @braezenkitty

Sam & Jess convince Dean to go to a yoga and meditation retreat in the Santa Cruz mountains. Dean is a grump, until he realizes the yoga teacher is a gorgeous dark-haired, blue-eyed, walking hunk of sex.

Mature. 6.5k words. (Complete)

[Implied Relationships, Self-Doubt, Negative Thoughts, Misunderstandings]

Cuddling is Manly by @breathingdestiel

Castiel Novak has just lost a longtime friend, his cat Moon, whom he had since he was nine. After a while he realizes that his grades are slipping and that he has a hard time focusing on studying, all because he used to do it while petting Moon. When his best friend Dean notices that something is wrong, they cuddle together, believing it would help Cas. But what was supposed to be a one time thing turns into a regular cuddling between them, complicating Cas’ already complicated feelings towards Dean.

Teen and Up. 46k words. (Complete)

[high school!au, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, bed sharing, slow burn]

3 AM by @dr-dean

“You are an angel and I’m totally into you but you’ve barely noticed my flirting so now I’m sitting here at 3 am reading up on angel courting rituals” Dean and Cas have some misunderstandings about what the other one wants.

Explicit. 6.6k words. (Complete)

[mutual pining, wing grooming, angel courting, miscommunication, case fic]

Warnings: being adorable but you kind of want to smack them, miscommunication, mutual pining, smut, wing!kink, hand jobs, NSFW

The One with All the Candy by @deanisthebeesknees

Castiel suddenly acquires a sweet tooth, and starts buying up all the candy. OR The Valentine’s Day when Castiel finally reveals his feelings for Dean.

Teen And Up Audiences. 5.5k words. (Complete)

[human!Cas, Valentine’s Day, Chocolate, Shipper!Sam, mutual pining]

Begin Again by @profound-boning

“Why Professor Winchester,” she mocks. “You’ve got someone special on the line and you’re ignoring them for us?”

“Zip it, Chambers.” He points a finger at her. “Y’all are great, but not that good. We clear on that?”

“Sure,” Krissy teases. “As long as they know they’re coming in second to Billy Pilgrim right now.”

“Everyone comes in second to Billy Pilgrim. Hashtag life hack.” Dean retorts.

Teen and Up. 4.9k words. (Complete)

[Single Parent Dean, Misunderstandings, First Date, Songfic, Meet Cute]

The Perks of Being a Human by @relucant

“Down here!” Dean yelled breathlessly, and Sam gripped the knife tighter; anything strong enough to get into the bunker and get Dean at a disadvantage was bound to be a nasty piece of work.

But when he got to the kitchen he stopped in the doorway with a start, mouth hanging open.

“Uh… Dean?”

“What?” Dean snapped, trying to maneuver the massive Douglas fir through the door. “Jesus, I swear this thing didn’t look so big on the lot.”

“You… bought a Christmas tree?”

Explicit. 12.5k words. (Complete)

[Fluff, Fluff and smut, Christmas, Men of Letters bunker]

spinning by @reallyelegantsharkfish

“Listen up!” Dean hollers, louder than necessary in the small space. “We are spinnin’ this bottle, and then we’re going to do some kissin’! Happy New Year!”

Teen and Up. 1.5k words. (Complete)

[First Kiss, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics]

Deaf!Dean Drabble One by @justrandomspnstuff

Life after the accident: A short, fluffy drabble with Deaf!dean and Human!cas

General Audiences. .5k words. (Complete)

[deaf!dean, human!cas, destiel fluff]

Worthy by @jadstiel

“… you wanna what, now?” Dean asks, because he definitely didn’t hear that right.

Castiel tilts his head, a leftover tick from his angel days that Dean would be lying if he claimed to find anything but idiotically endearing. He knows this is his own fault, owing to that rather memorable moment a week ago when Cas wandered into this very same kitchen with a (fairly) legitimate question and Dean just didn’t know when to shut up.

Explicit. 15k words. (Complete)

[bunker, human Castiel, porn with feelings, assertive!Dean, shameless!Cas]

Stand By Me by @compulsive-baker

After Lisa leaves an infant Ben in Dean’s care, he stops looking for love, until love finds him in the form of a blue eyed writer named Cas. They fall in love and help each other heal from past trauma and raise Ben as a family.

Mature. 80k words. (WIP)

[Friends to lovers, singleDad!Dean, writer!Cas, domestic fluff]

Warnings: mentioned character death/suicide, mentioned past rape

Dean and the Doula by @whichstiel

Dean meets Cas, Eileen’s doula, at the hospital the night she gives birth. The attraction is instant and mutual.

Explicit. 3.2k words. (Complete)

[Destiel, Saileen, Doula Cas, Fluff]

Warning: some discussion of childbirth and postpartum depression

Cas Liking Pop Music Is Cute by @waywardfic

When Dean can’t stop thinking about Cas, he decides to spend time with him. Dean soon learns that Cas likes pop music, which he finds cute. Fluff and romance ensues.

Explicit. 665 words. (Complete)

[So much fluff, Bunker!fic, first kiss]

How Do I Love Thee by @ialwayscomewhenyoucall

Dean notices that Cas reads a lot of poetry, and starts leaving him poetry around the bunker to brighten his days. It becomes a challenge: can Dean find a poem that Cas doesn’t immediately recognize?

General Audiences. 1.2k words. (Complete)

[established relationship, canon, human!cas, MoL bunker, fluff (of course!)]

#fanfic submission thursday #week 4: fluff #PLEASE SIGNAL BOOST TO GET THESE GREAT FICS OUT TO THE TUMBLR UNIVERSE

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theatricalwriter · 7 years

Text

I Am Good: Jason Scott X Reader [PART II]

PART I

Prompt: After the encounter with Jason Scott where he found your coin, you begin to feel as though people are watching you. You hope you can escape it all, but things get a little hectic afterward.

Requested: No

Word Count: 2,457

Warnings: Strong language,

Author’s Note: I don’t know how long this series is going to be-probably five parts in total- but I already love writing it.

You felt uneasy ever since the incident in the cafeteria. After getting changed out of your stained clothes and getting into a new outfit you kept in your locker, you couldn’t help but feel as though you had eyes all over me. But if you turned to look and see if anyone was watching you, you found everyone else’s eyes were gazing at something different. You had to bear with this feeling until that clock struck 2:30 and you were out of that joint.

Even as you walked home, you felt a disturbance that seemed to be following you the whole way. You stopped every so often to look behind you, but just like the classroom, you saw nothing out of the ordinary. You saw a couple of people like Kimberly Hart and Trini Kwan walking together to whom you recognized from school, but they were too focused on their conversation with each other to see you. And they also turned a short while back. You also saw Billy Cranston and Zack Taylor at different times, but they were just the same as Kimberly and Trini. And of course there was the occasional mother or young kid walking home from school like you were, but it wasn’t anything you let worry you.

You felt fine once you got home and made sure all the windows and doors were locked tight. Could never be too sure right?

You looked out the window a bit, then sighed and slid down the wall of your bedroom. You put your head in your hands. You peeked up and saw your broken nightstand and just sighed even more. You were confused and tired, to say the least. You were just hoping that all of this would go away if you curled up tight enough. Maybe that would help shield everything out.

But it didn’t, and you had to come face to face with reality at some point. Might as well do it now.

You pulled out the coin out of your pocket. While you had stared it several times before, you still couldn’t figure out what its purpose was or how it could do the things it did.

“What are you?” You asked softly.

It was times like this that you wished you had people to be with. You missed your mom… you missed your sister… You just needed their presence to at least be assured that everything was okay. And you didn’t have that.

Nevertheless, you needed to figure what was wrong with you and what this coin was. You didn’t know how or why, but you knew that your strange, new abilities and this coin correlated in some way, so what was the missing variable? There was something you were missing, and as terrifying as it was, you knew that you wouldn’t get answers by just sitting at home. You had to go out there and find how the coin got there in the first place. Yeah! If you figured out why it got there, maybe you’d get your answers.

Knowing your subconscious was correct, you picked yourself up and took a good look in the mirror. You looked at your skin which was covered with your regular makeup, but when you pressed your hands against it, patches of green showed up along your forehead and jawbone. You grabbed your beauty blender and applied your concealer to cover up the specks of green skin so no one would notice if you encountered anyone when you left. You dabbed your face with setting powder. You gave yourself a once over and made sure that no green spots were visible to the seeing eye. Feeling content, you headed out the door.

It took you awhile to get back to the chasm from before, and by the time you made it there, the sun was already close to fully setting on the horizon.

“Why did I make myself do this?” You asked yourself.

You stopped at the edge of the chasm, looking around and not down. It wasn’t that heights scared you, in fact, you always loved being up high and just staring at every little thing beneath you. But you didn’t feel like falling to your death, either, so you didn’t want to risk anything. You looked at the dusty and dry soil, but nothing was around to give you any clues. You held the coin in the palm of your hand, just to see if a reaction would come out of it. And you did. Right after you heard the same voices from yesterday getting closer and closer by the second. You made the same motions you’d made the previous day and sprinted away from the chasm and behind the bush.

You didn’t seem to be seen as opposed to last time. Nobody said anything that seemed out of the ordinary, but you heard a voice that was.

You moved aside some of the leaves of the bush and saw faces you hadn’t expected to see. The first person you laid eyes on was Zack Taylor. He seemed to be laughing with others, so you looked further. Then there was Kimberly Hart, followed by Billy Cranston, then came Trini Kwan, and finally, someone who you really weren’t prepared to see, Jason Scott. Now, you’re an intelligent person, and you were smart enough to put the dots together. Jason Scott picked up your coin and seemed to be really confused by it. Then, after school, you’re getting followed by four people, four people who were standing right there with Jason Scott. You weren’t sure why they were together or why it happened, but you figured that because of that coin, they were onto you for something.

You watched as the five stood at the edge of the chasm and promptly jumped down without fear or haste. You watched in terror as the first person who just so happened to be Zack descended to the bottom of the abyss, the others following suit. And just like the day before, there was a splashing sound.

“These guys are either maniac thrill-seekers or hiding something…” You spoke once you knew it was okay to come out from behind the bush.

You hurried over to where the five students once stood. You stared into the chasm, finding darkness at the bottom and nothing but. You didn’t hear anything besides the beating of your own heart and the booming thoughts that were crashing against your skull. Knowing it wouldn’t do you any good to just stand there by yourself, you decided to vocalize everything that was going on inside your head.

“Okay,” You began, taking a deep breath. After doing so, you spoke each word with the most exaggerated hand movements you could to release the pent-up anger and perplexity inside you. “So, I found this coin right here! And there some kind of water right there, in front of here! But how in Hell could a coin this small come from somewhere so far down there all the way up here? That makes no sense! Oh, wait! Unless those guys brought it up here! But then why would Jason look so worried if one of them brought it here in the first place? And I doubt if they did they would just let it fall on the ground like that…”

You barely even realized that you were nervously pacing the ground as you were babbling to yourself, which, had anyone been around to see, would’ve made you look like a complete idiot.

“Wait, do they even have any relations to the coin? Well, they must, right? I mean, Jason seemed like he knew what that thing was and he sent his friends to follow me, I’m sure, and I found the coin right here where they jumped so they must! And I don’t even hear them so hey must’ve… Wait, fit hey jumped like last time, how did they even get back up in the fir-”

You didn’t have the time to complete your sentence before your anxious pacing caused you to fall off the edge of the chasm, barely even giving you a chance to scream before you plummet to your potentially inevitable death. You silently watched in horror as the world you saw from up above became smaller and smaller. You curled into a ball and hoped that it would make the impact hurt less.

Before you knew it, you felt the stinging of cold water hitting your skin and felt the air leave your lungs. You opened your eyes and saw the murky blueness of the water that engulfed you. Your lungs began to burn so you pushed your body upward to the water’s surface. When you got there, you gasped, greedily taking in as much air as you could after losing all breath you had while falling and while being submerged underwater.

You swiveled your body around in the water, looking for any sign of those who were there before you, but you couldn’t find anyone.

You looked down and saw a glowing green light coming from your chest. You knew that it was the coin, which was vigorously shaking in the palm of your hand. It began to shake so much that it fell out of your grip and into the water.

“Wait!” You gasped.

You sucked in a large breath and followed the coin into the water’s depths. You watched the flashing light as it neared the bottom of the pool, but what you failed to realize was that the makeup that covered your entire face and your hands was now being washed away and into the water.

You pushed yourself further through the water, carefully watching the coin’s fading light. You got closer and closer to it, your hand brushing up against the cool metal… but then something odd happened. You watched as the coin fell through something, as if the water just stopped there. In fact, if your eyes weren’t deceiving you, it almost looked like you were back at the surface and there was no floor to the body of water.

You pushed your hand outward towards what looked like the water surface. Sure enough, your felt like your hand was in open air. You swam closer, and with more effort, your whole head was sticking out of the water. You once again gasped for air. You spotted the coin lying on some sand beneath you.

“What the fu-”

You never got to finish your phrase. Your body fell into the water before landed on the sand with and loud and painful ‘thud.’ You groaned in pain, rubbing your head and the arm which hit the ground first.

In regaining your composure, you glanced upward and saw that the water seemed to be upside down. Confused beyond belief, you hoped that if you gazed around a bit more you’d find something normal to make of the situation. But you didn’t. Instead, you found a gigantic ship, one that looked like it was stationed there for years but also appeared to be highly advanced in technology, was just sitting there.

“Y/N,” You spoke to yourself, your heartbeat going a mile a minute. “It’s to wake up now, you idiot!”

You heard a whirring sound coming from the open ship. You grasped the coin quickly off the ground, hoping that if you were able to hide behind a rock, you wouldn’t be seen. However, you were caught by- yes, you better believe it- a robot that was the size of a child. He was humming a strange tune before he spotted you and stopped moving completely. You too stood still and silently, not making a move in fear it would attack.

Instead of doing that, the robot started screaming “Zordon! Zordon! There’s an intruder! An alien intruder!” and turning into the ship.

You glanced down at your hands and slapped your cheeks. You noticed that the makeup had come off when you were in the water.

“Shit.”

You, fearing that you would be harmed in some kind of way, started running as quick as your legs could carry you. You didn’t know where you were headed, but you knew that there were rocks everywhere you turned. You also could tell that your speed and agility picked up after you found that coin because you never ran this fast before nor were you ever able to do so many big obstacles.

“Hey!” You heard a familiar female shout behind you.

“Stop!” Another voice, a male replied.

You heard several footsteps bounding after you. Fear and panic flooded your system when you turned and saw figures dressed in metal armor and masks chasing after you. They were all different colors, one was blue, one yellow, and one pink.

“What the hell is that thing?” The pink one shouted.

“It's green! It’s freaking green!” The blue one replied.

Ignoring their comments about your appearance, you kept running and jumping with height you never thought you could jump over rocks that were in your way. As you ran, a streak of red and black passed you out of the corner of your eye.

When you faced forward again, something grasped your arm with an iron grip, and your coin fell to the floor in the shock of it all. Someone knocked your legs out from underneath you and you fell to the ground with the person holding your arm twisting it behind your back, rendering you helpless and afraid. Tried struggling and fighting against their grip with your new strength, but it was fruitless. Whoever had you pinned to the floor was just as strong as you, if not stronger.

You gazed up and saw the three armored beings from before glaring down at you with a black-armored person standing with them. One in red armor was the one who had you immobilized beneath them.

“Let me go, you bastards!” You cried angrily, trying in a failed attempt to cover up your dread.

“Wait,” The red-armored being said quietly. “Y/N?”

You knew that voice. It was the voice of the person who stood up for you earlier that day.

“Jason?” you panted from all the running.

“You’re…” You both said your phrases in tandem.

“A Power Ranger?”

“Green?”

The robot from earlier rolled into your line of sight and held up the coin that fell out of your pocket just a second before. “No… the green Power Ranger.”

PART III

#power rangers imagine #power rangers x reader #power rangers 2017 #jason scott x reader #jason scott imagine #wicked #red ranger #jason scott

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