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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

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Slumber Party

Request 4: C!Ranboo and his best friend just having a calm like self-care sort of night? Like just some fluffy friendly content- maybe the reader playing with his hair? 🥺 I thrive on platonic content so so much

Requested By: Anonymous

(PLATONIC!Ranboo x Reader)

I felt like this one was better written in HeadCannon style hope that’s okay!

Marching through the Tundra the snow crunched under your feet, this was the first time you had made the journey out to visit Ranboo.

You two had been inseparable since he came to the country of New L’manburg, Tubbo had introduced the both of you and you were attached at the hip ever since. You were one of the first names under the best friends category in his memory book and you had a locket with his face inside it labeled best friend.

So it was only natural that he had made sure you were the first person who had direct permission from Technoblade to be on his property.

The pigman had warmed up to you surprisingly quickly, mainly because you had brought him a housewarming gift.

(The gift in question was some of your world-famous homemade mashed potatoes)

He took it stiffly and gruffly, turning away from the both of you to walk back towards his house.

Ranboo rushed to assure you that, that’s what he does when he appreciates something.

You chose to ignore the weird reaction in favor of following Ranboo to his home.

Ranboo’s pets remembered you and it was a joyful reunion between all of them. It ended in many snuggles and pets from both parties.

Eventually, Ranboo suggested you both move away from the pets and do something more fun. Mainly he wanted to officially show off his new powers to you, keeping them a secret had been immensely challenging.

The both of you sat across from one another on the floor, in front of you he placed a grass block.

“Ready?”

“Considering I don’t know what you’re doing sure.”

You almost screamed when he broke the grass and it was still...well grass.

“Do it again! Can you do it to other blocks or just dirt? What else can you pick up?

He couldn’t help but preen at all the praise and you were happy to dish out the compliments.

Ranboo explained how he went around with Techno to do some little experiments with what he could pick up.

You could care less about the spawners but the cake was another story. You made him pick it up about five times, eyes sparkling about unlimited cake.

Finally, to distract you away from the cake he asked how you were doing living with Tubbo in Snowchester.

“The nukes freak me out a little but other than that it’s peaceful. Tubbo and Jack’s shenanigans are super entertaining, I love living by Charlie! His puns make me laugh and he feels like he’s having a permanent mental breakdown. Which is again, very entertaining.”

Ranboo gave a soft chuckle, “Yeah I mean understandable whenever I visit there’s certainly never a dull moment.”

The only thing that did worry you was how weird Jack Manifold was being around Tommy. There was just a weird vibe you couldn’t quite put your finger on and Ranboo frowned in distaste. He felt it too.

However, today was a good day. No sad or worrying thoughts and certainly no dwelling on business that wasn’t either of your own.

Ranboo watched your brow crease in worry and immediately wanted to steer your thoughts away from any negativity.

RANBOO SAYS THERE’S NO SADNESS ALLOWED IN HIS HOUSE UNLESS IT’S HIS OWN

“You wanna braid my hair?” He ended up blurting and watched you blink in surprise your sadness fading away and it was replaced with a look of confusion.

“Is...Is it long enough?” You tilted your head to the side, now officially eyeing his multicolored hair.

“I don’t know...You wanna try?”

“Yeah! Totally!” You chirped as he nodded, you both moved to shift into a more comfortable position. He sat in front of you, you could barely see over his shoulder to even reach his hair you had to sit up on your knees.

“Hold it!” Ranboo paused turning to look over his shoulder, “put a pillow down.” He mama henned you, “you’re gonna bruise your knees.”

You grabbed a pillow with an eye roll and put it beneath your knees as he instructed.

You gently put your crown off his head and placed it on your own, you began to run your fingers through his hair.

How was it so soft? It’s way softer than yours! That’s not fair!

Ranboo felt you huff against him, and he smirked to himself but his face immediately melted into a relaxed expression as you ran your fingers through it.

You began to softly braid the strands of hair, waiting curiously as the stray stands of white and black got intermixed with one another.

You ended up making two small pigtail braids and tying the ends with rubber bands to make them stay in place. You had placed his crown back on his head and smirked proudly.

He turned to face you and your smirk turned into a proud grin,

“How’s it looking?”

“You look amazing. I’m amazing, the talent I have is immense.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He declared moving over to look in the mirror, he had to admit you didn’t do a terrible job at all.

He turned back to face you and declared it was your turn for him to play with your hair.

So the both of you switched positions, you sitting comfortably in between his legs as he brushed his fingers through your hair.

In the end, Ranboo couldn’t figure out how to do anything other than put it in a small ponytail.

You snickered at his misfortune but assured you loved the new hairstyle and decided you’d wear it for the remainder of the night.

“You don’t have to.” Ranboo sighed shoulders slumping forward, “your hair will only get tangled-”

“Too late I’m wearing it all night and you can’t stop me.”

“(Y/n) please.”

“Never. It’s my new style now, permanent hair doo.”

“Please no.”

An idea struck you suddenly declaring the both of you make the night a self-care experience

Ranboo had no idea what that meant but decided he’d follow your lead.

You snickered, he had no idea what he was in for, you told him to give you five minutes and everything would make sense.

Unfortunately due to his Enderman traits, Ranboo would experience the warm water of a pedicure so you’d make due.

You came back arms full of the so-called self-care supplies you’d mentioned earlier.

The first thing you declared that you were going to paint his nails, you demanded he picks the colors he wanted and he hesitantly picked out a soft red color.

You painted his claws swiftly, he adored it immediately seeing the first nail completed.

Once all of his nails were finished he held his hands out and wiggled his fingers, his eyes lighting up in childlike wonder.

“Let’s do more self-care. Right now!”

You laughed happily and promised him there was more to come, and not to worry.

Eventually, the sun began to set over the hills and both of you were clad in a face mask, cucumbers sitting atop both your eyes.

You were sipping a strawberry smoothie, and Ranboo was sipping on peanut butter and banana.

“Can we get Tubbo in on this next time? He seems like he needs it.” Ranboo asked suddenly a cucumber sliding off his eye to stare at you. You looked back at him with a hum,

“Absolutely. Maybe Tommy can come too.”

“This is why you’re the smart friend.” He complimented, “Although we couldn’t have it here for reasons that look like a half pigman.”

“That’s alright my house is big enough to fit everyone. Plus I have more self-care stuff there anyway.” You turned to face him this time popping off the cucumbers on your own eyes yourself,

“I’ll tell Tubbo and you find Tommy?” Ranboo hummed, “Does next weekend work for you?”

“I do nothing like all the time so yes. It works.”

“How do you stay away from everything, all the drama, and the fighting?”

“I only talk to like three people,” You let out a small laugh rubbing the back of your neck, “Can’t get into drama and wars when you’re barely noticed.” Ranboo frowned a little nudging you with his arm,

“First of all, you are noticed. Whenever I gush about you everyone knows who I’m talking about,” He watched you flush a little at the inclination that he talks about you, “Second I will not have my friends talking bad about themselves or they’ll have to fight me.” You gave a little laugh and Ranboo held up his fists, “I’m gonna fight those negative thoughts.”

“My hero,” You cooed holding your hands to your chest and he smiled fondly at you.

“Plus staying drama and war-free means you’re safe and that’s what’s important.”

“But I want you safe too.”

“I… trust me.” He lied and you could tell there was something he wasn’t telling you but you knew Ranboo and it wasn’t good to press the boy, so for now...you let it go.

“You know I do, always will Boo.” You rest your head on his shoulder and he let you snuggle up close to him, he rested his chin on top of your hair. “Just don’t get hurt okay, I need you in my life.”

“I don’t plan on leaving you behind. Don’t worry.” Ranboo promised and watched as you held out your pinky towards him.

“Pinky promise,” you whispered and he melted,

“Promise.” He interlocked his long pinky finger with your own, from that moment on he knew he had made the right choice to join the Syndicate. He wanted to protect you, and being apart of the Syndicate would certainly allow him to do so, he had to fight to protect the ones he loved. Tubbo, Micheal, and you...he’d go against the world for them, even with his memory problems and his Enderwalking his only goal was to protect his friends, and that’s what he was going to do even if it killed him.

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luminnara · 3 years

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Flying On Wings Made From Feathers And Wax | Ganondorf x Gerudo!oc chapter 2

Part one | Part two | Part three

Growing up in the Gerudo Desert is hard.

The sun is merciless, especially to the small. For someone like Ilula, it is draining, seemingly determined to exhaust her as it beats down on her during the day. It will never stop doing so, but at a young age, she learned how to deal with it.

The others called her lazy, but she considered herself clever. Just like the lizards that liked to snooze while they sunned themselves, she took naps during the day. It wasn’t that the other Gerudo didn’t—naps were almost a necessity in such a hot environment, and it was common to see be back in an hour signs hanging on merchant stalls—but Ilula simply napped more than the rest of them.

It concerned her mother greatly.

Kiluki took her daughter to the best healer in town, the one who looked after the chief and royal family, hoping to find answers about Ilula’s small stature. Just like the Hylian healers, though, this one declared that Ilula was, for the most part, fine, she was just...small. Small, and a bit weak. For Kiluki, a tall, strong vai, who had once been a member of the Chief’s guard, Ilula’s relatively tiny stature and shortcomings were cause for major concern; she knew that many Gerudo never joined the guard, and to keep Gerudo Town running, they needed all sorts. But she wanted Ilula to follow in her footsteps, to become stronger and braver than even she, and Kiluki feared that it was a dream that could never be.

Ilula knew that her mother worked, but what could she possibly do about it? It wasn’t anything that she could control. She spent her days playing or helping Uvira sell her produce while her mother advised the Chief, trying to forget the way that she couldn’t reach things the other girls could. As she grew older, it became obvious that she would never hit a growth spurt, and while Ganondorf shot up like a weed, Ilula stayed at least a head shorter than the others her age.

“C’mon, pipsqueak!” Ganondorf scooped her up one day, interrupting her midday nap.

“Gan!” She yelped in surprise as he threw her over his shoulder. “Put me down!”

“Not a chance,” the prince grinned as he ran towards the palace. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I’ve got something to show you.”

Even at twelve years old, Ganondorf could carry her easily. He spent his days studying and training, his mother keeping a watchful eye over him and ensuring that her son would become strong and capable. While Ilula had already finished most of her schooling, knowing how to read and write and do simple math, the prince had many years of studies still ahead of him, his chambers lined with shelves full of thick books. Being royalty meant that he needed to know everything about the world, and he enjoyed reading about Hyrule and its politics and history. Ilula didn’t share quite as much appreciation for the Hylian kingdom neighboring the desert, but whenever he was reading, she had a chance to take a nice nap in his incredibly soft bed, and that was something she could absolutely appreciate.

“It better not be stupid,” she grumbled with a yawn. “Interrupting me on my day off…”

“Day off from what?” He snorted. “You can’t even start real training until you’re twelve. That’s a whole month away.”

“So?” She argued.

“So you can’t possibly be too busy for me,” he rolled his eyes. “Sav’aaq!” He called to the guards at the top of the steps as he passed them.

“Sav’aaq, my prince!” They snapped to attention, bowing their heads. “Ilula, sav’aaq.”

“Sav’aaq,” Ilula mumbled. She was used to the guards keeping watch over her and the prince, and they had all developed a certain fondness for Ganondorf’s runt of a friend.

Ganondorf carried her through the throne room, past the chief and her advisors as they pored over a map of Hyrule. They bowed to him as he walked by and he grunted in acknowledgement, too focused on his task to stop and ask what they were doing.

They allowed him to rush by without interruption. He only had a few years of childhood left before the burdens of leadership would fall on his shoulders, and his mother wished that he enjoyed his time as much as he could. He was growing into a fine young voe, the Sheikah prophecy a distant memory now, and As any voe, he should be enjoying the years of his youth as much as possible.

When he reached his chambers, he threw Ilula down onto his bed. She laughed as she bounced, sitting up to look at him as he grabbed a wooden box from his desk.

“Here,” he said, slightly out of breath as he pushed it into her hands.

She took it, hearing something rattle inside. “What is it?”

“Just open it!”

With an inquisitive glance up at him, she slid the lid off the box. Inside, something was glimmering, reflecting the light of the desert sun that streamed in through the windows. As Ilula reached inside, she picked up a set of earrings, a teardrop-shaped sapphire hanging from each hook.

“Oh, Gan,” she breathed, holding the jewelry in her palm as she stared down at it, “these are beautiful…”

He was watching her anxiously. “Do you like them?”

“I do!” She looked up at him with a wide smile.

The prince let out the breath he had been holding, relieved. “Oh, good.”

“Did you have these made?” Ilula asked, peering closely at the stones.

“I did,” he smiled. “Just for you. Well, actually, they were going to be a birthday present, but Amira finished them early. I couldn’t hold my tongue for an entire month.”

“This is the best early birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” she beamed up at him. “Thank you, Gan.”

“Oh, they’re not a birthday gift anymore,” he laughed. “I figured out something else for your birthday. These are just normal gifts now.”

Ilula raised an eyebrow. “You really shouldn’t be spending so much time spoiling me, you know…”

“Or what?” He laughed. “You’re my best friend, Lula. You deserve gifts.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m not going to accept them,” she grinned at him as she stood and walked to the mirror on the wall.

“I put a spell on them.” he blurted out. “To help you stay cool in the sun. Sapphires are good for that.”

She glanced back at him. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I had the jeweler make them and then I enchanted them. I’m supposed to be practicing, and I wanted to try it out…”

“I can’t believe you know magic,” Ilula said as she faced her reflection. “I wish I could put spells on things.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” he shrugged.

“Shut up,” she laughed. “It’s a super big deal!”

He watched with a serene smile on his face as she took out the big gold hoops she was wearing and replaced them with her new earrings. Just as he had hoped, the bright blue sapphires contrasted perfectly with her fiery red hair…though the thick green band she used to keep it up off of her shoulders didn’t match at all. He made a mental note to add a new, nicer one to the small pile of birthday gifts he would be giving her in a few weeks.

Ilula admired the way the sapphires hung from her pointed ears. She had to admit…Ganondorf had an eye for jewelry. Maybe it was because he had so much of it himself; as she looked at his reflection behind her, she could count no less than ten incredibly expensive precious stones on his head and arms alone. The perks of being a prince, she supposed.

When he noticed her watching her, he suddenly shuffled his feet awkwardly, glancing away for a moment before looking down at his hands.

“I’m, uh…glad you like them.” He mumbled.

“Gan, don’t be sheepish,” Ilula laughed, turning to face him.

He looked up at her, hoping that she couldn’t see the blush on his face. She was the only person who ever made his skin heat up like that, the only Gerudo he ever wanted to be around, the only vai whose hand he wanted to hold. It confused him, the way he felt about his best friend, but he was headstrong and determined not to shy away from whatever he was beginning to feel.

“I’ve never seen a sheep,” he chuckled. “What does sheepish mean?”

Ilula’s laughter grew louder as she plopped down on the edge of his bed and looked up at him. “They’re soft. Hylians cut their hair and make things with it. They look like fluffy little clouds with legs.”

Ganondorf grinned. “I can’t wait until I’m king and I can see all of Hyrule. I want to go to the castle, see the Hylians.”

“It’s a long walk,” Ilula said. “…well, Mama carried me most of the way, I think. I don’t really remember much of it. I know it rained a lot before we got to the outskirts, though.”

Ganondorf suddenly sighed and turned to the window. He walked towards it, placing his hands on the cool sandstone and leaning on them as he looked out over Gerudo Town and the wide, flat desert outside the gates.

“What is it like there?” He asked, gazing towards the distant mountains that marked the Gerudo Highlands and the edge of Hyrule.

Ilula frowned at his change in demeanor and stood to join him. “It’s…green. Everything is green, and you can smell all the plants. And there’s so much water, everywhere…when it rains, it isn’t like here. It just rains for a few hours, and then the sky clears up again, and the birds come back out.”

“It sounds…nice.” He admitted.

“It is,” she agreed. “You can just lean down and drink out of a stream if you’re thirsty. And if you’re hungry, there are apple trees all over! And fish in the rivers, and boar in the woods…”

“I like boar,” Ganondorf laughed.

“Yeah, they taste pretty good, I guess. When you add enough spices.” Ilula shrugged.

“No, not to eat!” He looked at her like she was crazy. “I like the way they look. Those big tusks…there are drawings of them in some of my books. I’ve always liked them.”

“Yeah, I guess they’re pretty cool.” Ilula giggled. “There are lots of other animals, too.”

“Life there must be easy.” He commented. “The Hylians have it all.”

“What do you mean?” Ilula frowned. “I thought you liked the desert.”

“I do, I just…wish we had things like grass and trees and forests. I wish we lived more comfortably.”

“You live very comfortably.” Ilula snorted.

“What do you mean?” He looked down at her, nose wrinkled slightly.

“Uh, all of this?” She gestures to the room around them. “The palace? You’re royalty. You hardly have to worry.”

“I have to think about our people!” He argued. “What’s Castle Town like?”

“Busy and big.” Ilula shrugged. “The streets are all made of stone, and there’s a big market where people from all over sell things. Mama didn’t let me go there very much, because of the way the Hylians are sometimes.”

Ganondorf looked down at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“They don’t really…trust Gerudo that much.” She folded her arms, hugging herself lightly. “They don’t treat the Rito or the Zora like Hylians, either, but they like them more than they like us.”

As Ganondorf listened, he considered her words. “I’m going to change that.”

“You’re going to change how they think?” She asked skeptically.

“I’m going to show them that they should respect us.” He said.

“How?”

“Maybe I’ll…send them aid, if they have a natural disaster.” He thought out loud. “Or take a big delegation to visit the castle, or invite them here.”

“The king can’t enter Gerudo Town,” Ilula laughed. “You’re the only voe allowed. Remember, you spoiled prince?”

“Oh. Right.” He chuckled. “Well, I’m going to be in charge someday. I’ll have to figure out this whole diplomacy thing.”

Ilula smiled softly as she looked up at him. “I’m sure you’ll be good at it.”

He grinned down at her. “Only if you help me.”

She returned the grin. “Deal.”

“I don’t think I could handle the throne without you,” he bumped her with his shoulder, nearly throwing her into the wall. “I still have so much I have to learn.”

Ilula stumbled, but she didn’t fall like the last few times he had forgotten how big he was. “That’s why kings always have advisors. Nobody can run everything by themselves.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He sighed, his attention returning to the world outside his window. “I’ve got six whole years to figure it out, though.”

“Yeah, and it’ll be fine.” She tried to bump her shoulder into his arm with the same force that he had, but he didn’t budge. “Hey, seriously, are you made of rock?”

He barked a laugh. “No, I’m just bigger than you!”

“Well stop it!” She snapped, only half serious. “If you keep this up, you’re not even going to be able to see me!”

“Maybe you should just start catching up!” He retorted.

“I would if I could.” She rolled her eyes. “My mom keeps making me go to the healers to figure out why I’m so short. I keep trying to tell her that it’s not that big a deal, but she won’t listen.”

As she spoke, her tone grew more serious, until it had Ganondorf frowning. “You’re fine.”

“That’s what I keep saying, but it doesn’t matter.” Ilula sighed. “She’s always worrying that I’m going to get hurt because I’m fragile. I always tell her that I’m not, and I know I’m not because you’re always throwing me down off the walls or into the aqueducts or whatever, but she just always gets mad and tells me to be more careful.”

“Do I ever hurt you?” Ganondorf asked, his eyes wide in alarm.

“No, you don’t,” Ilula shook her head. “I’m serious, I’m not that fragile, but all she ever sees is me lagging behind everyone else. That’s why I want to start training with the guards, so I can show her that I’m fine.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “You know, if you start training, you’ll be busy all the time…”

“Gan, they train literally right outside your window.” She rolled her eyes. “You won’t miss me. I’ll be right there.”

“…oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“But I bet my mom is going to be all worried about me training, too.” She sighed. “Until i show her that I’m not some fragile little flower. You know, back in Castle Town, I was always the biggest kid. She didn’t worry as much back then.”

“Do you ever miss it there?” Ganondorf asked, studying her face.

“Sometimes. I miss everything I could get at the market, and I do miss my father. But…I didn’t fit in there. I guess I don’t really fit in here, either.”

“Yes you do.” He nudged her with his elbow, gentler this time. “You’re Gerudo. You belong here, with your people. With me.”

Ilula smiled up at him. “I know, Gan. I think it’s less about the place, and more about who’s there. You know?”

He looked down at her, his heart fluttering in a way he wasn’t used to. “Yeah. I know.”

000

On Ilula’s twelfth birthday, she woke to the smell of meat cooking over the fire. As soon as her eyes were open, she remembered what day it was, and she shot out of bed to investigate the main room of the home she and her mother shared.

“Sav’otta, my little desert flower,” Auntie Uvira greeted her as she prepared breakfast over the small wok in the middle of the room. “Sleep well?”

“Fine,” Ilula shrugged. “Where’s Mom?”

“Right here,” Kiluki appeared in the doorway, a parcel in her hands.

Ilula eyed it. “Sav’otta, Mama.”

“Sav’otta, Ilula,” Kiluki smiled, holding the parcel out towards her. “Happy birthday.”

Ilula lunged for it excitedly, tearing the wrappings open while Uvira yelled at her to be mindful of the fire.

As the brown paper fell away, airy pink fabric was revealed, and Ilula pulled out a bandeau top. Matching pants were next, made of a thin, breathable weave, and as she rushed back to her room to try the new outfit on, Kiluki smiled.

“How do I look?” Ilula asked breathlessly when she returned, holding her arms out as she spun around to show it off.

“Oh, it’s stunning!” Uvira clapped.

“I think it suits you perfectly,” Kiluki nodded. “How is the fit?”

“I think it’s good. What’s for breakfast?” Ilula was buzzing with energy, bouncing over to look at what Uvira was cooking.

“This is for later,” her aunt laughed as she sprinkled in some Goron spices.

“We will be eating breakfast at the palace,” Kiluki informed her daughter. “That’s why I wanted to give you that gift first thing in the morning. You should look your best.”

Ilula grinned. Eating at the palace meant getting to see Ganondorf, and as she rushed to get ready, she wondered what sort of gifts he had in store for her.

She found out soon after she walked through the impressive archway and approached the throne. The chief sat with her hands on its armrests, her back straight as she looked down at Ilula and Kiluki.

“The prince and queen mother are awaiting your arrival, Ilula,” she said, her voice firm and strong. “I would not keep them waiting. Kiluki, if I could have a quick word.”

Ilula glanced up at her mother in confusion, but when Kiluki waved her off, she was eager to run towards the dining hall. It was her birthday, after all, and she wasn’t going to allow herself to worry about anything. Whatever the chief wanted wasn’t of her concern, and when she saw Ganondorf waiting for her with a pile of gifts, any and all thoughts about what her mother could possibly be needed for flew out the window.

“Happy birthday, Ilula,” Ganondorf’s mother, Mira, said, a smile on her face as she watched her son shove a box into Ilula’s arms.

The Gerudo royal family spared no expense. Ganondorf had given her a sapphire necklace, one that matched the earrings, and a ruby wrist cuff that he said would keep her warm at night when the desert winds pierced Gerudo Town. His eyes lit up at the sight of her happiness, and though he had certainly given her birthday gifts before, he was especially glad to see that all of his hard work and pondering over what to get had all paid off this year. He gave her a new sirwal, the light, baggy pair of pants a bright white with golden accents threaded throughout. Then came an assortment of her favorite candied fruits, a beautiful sand sealskin journal, and the biggest breakfast feast she had ever seen.

By the time the unwrapping was finished, the table was covered in a plethora of delicacies. Everything from platters of sliced hydromelons, to gourmet meats hunted in the highlands, to rare seafood brought all the way from the coast, was piled up and presented to Ilula. It was a lavish celebration, the kind usually reserved for holidays or royal birthdays, and with Kiluki returning from the throne room to partake, the festivities were finally truly underway.

The adults drank as the children laughed and played. They were nearly too old to be doing so, both nearing the age at which they would begin training for adulthood, and one last romp before it all started seemed to be in order. The day was full of merriment and their spirits were high, and as the two tore out of the palace to get themselves into trouble elsewhere, Mira turned to Kiluki with a sigh.

“He will be devastated,” she said.

“As will she.” Kiluki raised her cup to her lips and drank.

“How long do you have?”

“I do not know.” Kiluki lifted her eyes. “Ryla did not say…all I know is that we are to return to Castle Town when she deems fit.”

“Why is she sending both of you?” Mira asked. “I hardly see the sense in taking Ilula away from her training.”

“I believe she wants us to keep up appearances.” Kiluki sighed. “Perhaps by the two of us seeming to return home, the Hylians will be less on edge.”

“Still…” Mira sighed again. “I am sure we will all be focused on our tasks, but your absence will be hard.”

“I only wish I knew when we would be leaving.” Kiluki frowned. “Ryla told me that it could be tomorrow, or in five years.”

“And I don’t suppose you’ll be allowed to visit home…”

“I doubt it.”

“Not even if Ganondorf requests it?”

Kiluki pursed her lips. “Perhaps after he takes the throne, he will summon us back to Gerudo Town. I should hope he will see the value in placing me amongst the Hylians, though, and so close to the royal family…”

“Like a spitting sand cobra, nestled right within their own walls,” Mira chuckled. “You must do your job well, for Ryla to send you back again.”

“Yes, I suppose I must. Though it was easier back then.”

“Will you return to that voe?”

Kiluki wrinkled her nose. “Perhaps, if he is willing to see reason.”

“What did you even fight about?”

“Everything.” She shrugged. “Hylian voe have a single use. The rest of the time, they are wholly disagreeable.”

Mira threw her head back and laughed, the hearty sound echoing off the sandstone walls. “That they are! That they most certainly are.”

#rehydrated ganondorf #ganondorf x oc #ganondorf x reader #ganondorf #botw #botw x reader #botw oc #gerudo

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pressedinthepages · 3 years

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Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Eskel/Reader

Rating: E

Masterlist

a/n: Reader Request: [ Hey Erica 👋 How are you? I hope you don't mind me dropping an ask here, I saw your fic requests are open. I've had a terrible time lately, I'm stuck in another country unable to go back home. My flights home have been cancelled twice already and it's really bumming me out. I love your stories, though. They bring me joy. Could I request a fluffy Eskel x reader where they're reunited after months apart? You can make it smutty or not it's up to you. Thank you, I love you ❤️] Love, I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to write this prompt. I have been in such an odd writing headspace lately, but i finally was struck with inspiration and knocked this out. sending you love, and I hope that if you’re not already home, you will be soon <3 (also, i 110% used the scene from Narcos season 2 episode 3 at the very end as reference O.O)

As always, thanks to @sometimesiwrite for beta’ing <3

(There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)

Warnings: smut, oh my god the smut, unprotected sex, eskel can be tender and a fucking beast at the same time, get you a man that can do both

After a long year, Eskel once again finds himself at your door.

You shivered as a burst of wind slithered in from a crack in the wood of the door. The soft wool of your shawl tightened around your shoulders as you stepped from behind the bar, ready to slip the key in to lock up for the evening. The three rooms that you had available were sold for the night and you were ready to tuck in for the evening.

But something made you stick your head out into the evening air, your nose reddening in the sudden chill. You glanced around and shook your head, retreating back into the warmth of your inn. Wait, was that-

Emerging from the fog was a strong, dark warhorse, rising tall under the moonlight. You swung open the door fully and bounded into the road in front of his rider, your breath coming in gasps that swam in the cold air in front of your face.

Eskel lowered his riding hood and smiled down at you, relief and longing tinging those sweet summer gold eyes. “Ah,” he rumbled, straight into your bones, “just the woman I was hoping to find.”

“I’ve been looking out for you, you’re late this year,” you said, willing your teeth to not chatter. Eskel had always been observant though, so he shook his head with a little grin.

“Get yourself back inside before you freeze. I’ll be in shortly.”

You nodded and turned back to your doorway just as you heard his boots hit the ground with a damp splash. “That is...if you’ll still have me?”

You furrowed your brow and glanced over your shoulder, finding him fiddling with the hem of his cloak and tilting his head towards you. “Eskel,” you close the distance between you, resting your hands on his chest, “you stop here every year. I always have, and always will, be more than ecstatic to have you come rest with me.”

Eskel breathed deeply and bent down, pressing his lips softly to the apple of your cheek. “Then I’ll be just behind you.”

You scurried inside and left the door unlocked as Eskel let himself into your stables at the rear of your inn. At the beginning of every spring and the end of every fall, he stumbled onto your doorstep, sometimes much too thin, others warm and full of life. But always loving, always reaching for the parts inside of you that you tried so hard to hide away.

And he always found them.

You busied yourself as you waited for him, readjusting how your tankards were set beneath the counter and checking your stores of ale. Again. You didn’t end up needing to wait terribly long, for Eskel let himself in and shut the heavy wooden door behind him. You tossed him the key and he flipped the lock, cocking his head as the bolt fell into place.

“You’ve got yourself a draft, love.” Eskel’s cheek came into view as he glanced back at you, a smirk turning up his already scarred lip.

You sighed and blew a strand of hair away from your face. “So I’ve noticed. But there hasn’t really been enough coin lately to justify replacing the damned thing, so...draft.”

Eskel hummed contemplatively and ran his fingers delicately over down the knots and grains. “Maybe I’ll see if I can fix it before I leave…”

“I would appreciate it, but if you can’t fix it, it won’t be the end of me.”

Eskel turned fully to you now and walked to your side, wrapping his arm comfortably around your waist. “I would hope not. Then I’d have to find a new spot to stop on the way home.”

“Besides,” he murmured, kissing the crown of your head, “there’s not anyone on this continent who could replace you.”

You closed your eyes and sank into him, letting him guide you back into your bedroom at the rear of the inn. He toed the door shut behind him and carefully began to slide your shawl down your shoulders. Eskel’s lips peppered your neck and up behind your ear before you spun around in his grasp.

“You’ve still got your traveling clothes on, dear,” you chide with a smile, reaching for the knot on Eskel’s cloak. He tilted his head up, baring his neck to you as you felt the knot give way and his cloak spill onto the floor. You let your shawl join it before trailing back towards the bed.

Light from the moon danced over Eskel’s cheeks and down the arch of his nose, and you just couldn’t resist reaching up on your tiptoes and placing a little kiss right to the tip. You felt his chuckle under your hands before he pushed your hips backwards. The backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed and you fell onto it, resting on your elbows and looking up at your Witcher.

Eskel slid his swords off of his back and rested them at the bedside, just within reach. He pulled and tugged at the straps of his armor, letting his jerkin and pauldrons hit the floor beneath him and tugging off his boots in one swift motion. You reached for the buttons on your blouse, but his hand shot out and caught your wrist, his face before yours impossibly fast. He was kneeling over you now, smelling of the road and pine and the spice of the chaos that flows in his blood.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, a low growl torn from the depths of his lungs, “I want to do that.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded, lowering your hand back down to rest at your side. Eskel hummed and pushed himself up, still kneeling, his legs straddling one of yours. You could feel his arousal pushing into your thigh and though you wanted nothing more than to reach out and take him in your hand, you just...waited.

Eskel smiled down at you and resumed undressing himself, lifting his linen shirt up over his head, baring his chest to you. You raised a brow and held up your hand, reaching out to him. He carefully captured your fingers and trailed them up his stomach, over the soft stomach dusted with dark hair that led down below his trousers. There had been one winter he had come to you bare as bones, as if a stiff gust of wind would threaten to carry him away. Most springs when he came he was soft and warm after a few months of good eating and safety.

“A sign of a good year,” you whispered, pressing your fingertips gently into the cushion of his stomach.

“I spent some time in Skellige this year,” he said, running his thumb over the back of your knuckles, “tends to be a little more dangerous, but they always pay fairly.”

You bit your lip and teased the edge of his trousers, barely dipping into the warmth there before he pushed your hand away. You pouted as he reached for the ties himself.

Eskel leaned down and pressed his lips to the furrow in your brow, “Don’t give me that look. Patience, you.”

You huffed good-naturedly, watching the dark curls of hair be slowly revealed as his trousers loosened. The tanned skin of his inner thighs found its way into the air and your tongue darted out to wet your lip, just waiting for the glorious moment that his cock will leap from the confines of his trousers.

And then, you fucking shiver. The cold air had seeped far enough into your skin to bring goosebumps to the surface and it was only in the blink of an eye that your body tried to warm itself, but it was too late. Eskel noticed every little thing, there was no scenario in which he would overlook your chill and take off his gods-be-damned pants.

“Shit, you stubborn woman, why didn’t you say you were cold?” Eskel laughed and pushed himself up and away from you, sauntering over to the dark fireplace. You threw your arm over your eyes and groaned as he flicked his fingers, letting the fire bloom and blossom in the room.

“I was fine, I just want you nake-”

“I know what you want. But you also need to not freeze before I even get you naked.” Eskel shook his head and stood between your legs at the edge of the bed. You peered out from beneath your elbow as he slipped his hands into the band of his trousers and slid them down, finally releasing his hips and thighs and the fucking delicious cock nestled away. He was already hard, straining up towards his stomach and flushed ruddy at the tip.

“See?” Eskel smirked, giving himself a few long, slow strokes over you, “Sometimes it’s best to be patient…”

“Eskel,” you sighed, feeling your underclothes grow wet as your eyes raked down his shoulders and chest, over his powerful thighs and the little swells of his hips that just begged for your fingers, the fire raging in the fireplace having nothing to do with the heat roaring under your skin, “p-please, will you-”

“Will I what, love?” He smiled, his fingers leaving his length and reaching for the ties at the side of your skirt, but not yet touching.

You arched your back up off the bed and keened, your voice high and thin. “Eskel, don’t tease, please just touch me…”

“Since you asked so nicely, sweet woman,” Eskel finally ran his hand up your thigh and you could feel the heat of him even through your skirt. Your head hit the bed beneath you as you felt him quickly undo the tie of your skirt. You lifted your hips and he pulled the soft fabric from beneath you, leaving you in your blouse and smallthings.

Eskel crawled atop you, straddling your hips. His hands were firm as he smoothed them up your stomach, bunching your blouse in his fingers before reaching the button at your collar. He reached into the gap in the fabric and pulled, the button slipping free of its hold and revealing the barest glimpse of the smooth skin of your breasts.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to your chest as he quickly continued undoing the buttons. You reached up and rested your hands on his shoulders as he finally pushed the shirt open, freeing you to his burning gaze. Eskel took one of your nipples in his mouth and sucked lightly, wrapping his arm around your back when you arched up to meet him.

He reached down with his other hand and ran his fingers up your clothed slit, feeling the warm wetness that had seeped into the delicate cotton. “Gods, woman,” he breathed, grazing his teeth over the tender flesh of your breast, “so good for me…”

“Always a pleasure,” you moaned as he slipped your smalls to the side, sliding his finger through your folds and circling the little bud of nerves at your core. He chuckled and pushed his finger down, dipping slowly inside of you. Your walls fluttered around him like flowers first opening for spring, something innate and easy, as if Eskel belonged just as he was.

Eskel shifted off of the bed, yanking your delicates down your legs and tossing them away. His eyes were dark with lust as he climbed atop you once more, bruising your lips with his own and rolling the two of you over. You rested atop him now, your fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck and your breasts pushed flush against the fluff of his chest. You pushed yourself up with a grin, rising to your knees and hovering over his arousal.

“Go on, pleas-” Eskel’s words were cut off with a groan as you sank onto him, soaking him in your folds as he pushed into you. Your head fell back, baring your throat to him as you were filled to the brim. Your hips met flush against each other and your hand reached out to brace on Eskel’s chest. His muscles, corded and powerful, lay tense beneath your fingers, his own fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“Eskel,” you breathed, peering down at him through heavily-lidded eyes, “fuck, I’ve missed you so much…”

You raised your hips and lowered them, feeling the stretch of his cock along your walls and impossibly deep in your core. Eskel already looks wrecked, his teeth bared and cheeks flushed, the veins in his neck taut as he attempted to wrangle his control.

The sounds your hips made as they met over and over again were lewd in the dark evening, and they kept coming quicker and quicker. You bounced in his lap, slamming down onto him as if trying to fuck away all of the yearning, all of the worry from the last year of not having Eskel in your bed. He seemed just as eager, meeting your every move with thrusts of his own.

Suddenly though, his hands grasped your hips harshly, stilling you in his lap. “C-can I move you?” He asked, his chest heaving under your hand.

You nodded and he moved like a whip, whirling you around and under him, on your hands and knees facing away from him. He ran his hand up your back and into your hair, his touch suddenly tender. Eskel kissed the space nestled between your shoulder blades and lined himself up, sliding through your folds and smearing the slick onto his length.

He pushed back into you slowly, letting the new angle do the work. A gutteral noise fell between your teeth as he bottomed out, allowing you to adjust. “My love?”

“Yes?” You moaned, flexing your walls around him.

“I-I can’t be gentle right now, I...I need-”

“Go on, Eskel,” you reach back, grasping onto his hand, “I trust you.”

And with that, Eskel seemingly just...allowed himself to let go.

He rocked his hips back and then slammed into you, immediately setting a brutal pace. Your breath was torn from you as you saw stars behind your eyes, holding onto the sheets beneath you for some sort of tether to reality. Every thrust he was hitting something devastating inside of you and you thought you may have been crying out, but you weren’t really sure.

Eskel was grunting and groaning as he ploughed into you, his hands gripping hard into your hips, pulling you in for every thrust so that he just hit deeper and deeper. You were so warm and wet and fucking perfect around him and his mind was finally...quiet.

Your toes tingled and you felt that familiar build up of pressure in your core, everything very quickly amplifying towards the end of a tunnel. Eskel felt the shift, everything getting slicker and your walls fluttering desperately around his cock, so he sped up and just kept hitting harder.

You hung in the balance for a moment, teetering on the edge as you felt him hit that spot over and over again and you finally fell, crying out for him as your climax overtook you. It was a blinding white light in a pitch black night, all desperate hands and clawing moans. Eskel’s voice turned breathy and strained as he rode through your high, his own approaching mind bendingly fast.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and hauled you up, pressing your back flush against his chest. Eskel’s hands held on for dear life as he gave one, two, three final thrusts up into you before his own peak washed over him. He gasped and his mind blanked as he spilled within you, his breath hot on your ear as he gave stunted thrusts into your core. You reached up and stroked through his hair as his orgasm faded into the background, leaving the two of you wrapped in each other with the evidence of your arousals seeping down your thighs.

Eskel latched his lips to your neck, feeling your pulse slow and calm under his touch. He shifted and let his softening cock slip from you, leaving you oddly empty before you turned around in his arms.

You met his lips, slow and loving, pushing him gently back to lay in the bed. His bones felt like jelly and his mind was thick as molasses in winter, and it was precisely what he needed. You weren’t terribly far behind him, just reaching for a spare rag to clean up a bit before climbing into his arms.

He was warm and soft beneath you, his breathing slow and steady as your head rested on his chest. You could have sworn he was already sleeping, but as always, he surprised you.

“I missed you too,” he whispered, kissing your head lightly. You sank into him, content to rest in his arms as long as you could before he had to leave. Or maybe, you thought as the last threads of consciousness fell away, I could get him to stay all winter.

Just maybe.

#eskel x reader #smut #hes just #the best

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nataliedanovelist · 3 years

Text

GF - We’re Coming Back Home

A Drifting Stars AU one-shot, the last one I plan to do, in collaboration with @clownwry.

1st, 2nd, 3rd.

~~~~~~~~~~

Somehow, miraculously, through all of Ford’s traveling, through countless dimensions, his Quantum Destabilizer remained on his back and fully intact.

Okay, well, mostly intact. Partially intact.

When he was finally ready to attack Bill and put an end to his reign of terror, his plans had been put on hold when a crack in space-time opened. He didn’t dare hope that it was a way home, but maybe if he aimed correctly, the shot would not only kill Bill, but fly him home. But no, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young girl fly out of the hole, and with reflexes he developed over thirty years of staying alive in the worst circumstances, he hooked his Quantum Destabilizer onto his back, caught the girl, and swam through the gravity-less air for safety, hiding behind an asteroid, putting a hand over the girl’s mouth and hissing for her silence, swearing she would be okay, and they barely made it out as Bill’s words echoed through the Nightmare Realm.

“Sixer’s caught a Shooting Star, boys!”

Ford had no idea what that was supposed to mean at the time, but now a month later, he thinks he finally understood. His niece, Shermie’s granddaughter, Mabel, loved stars, and was very much like one herself. Always shining. Always so bright and full of hope. Many times in history, and even today in other dimensions, runaway slaves used the stars as maps to guide them to a better place. Ford often wondered if Mabel was his star, maybe not guiding him physically to a safe haven, but guiding him to a happier mindset. Guiding him to a life that isn’t completely isolated. Guiding him to a life that included love.

The last few weeks have been challenging, sure, but not that much more challenging than traveling alone; Mabel was a fast learner, and while she refused to use a knife or gun (“Cuz those hurt, Grunkle Ford!”), she was perfectly comfortable with pop-rocks and making foes lose their footing and fall down so they couldn’t attack. And she was very good at hunting for food and water and other reliable resources.

In fact, Ford would easily say the last few weeks have been the happiest of his life. Maybe only tying with when Fiddleford joined him in Gravity Falls, before work on the portal became dangerous, but after he realized that maybe the woods had been too quiet the last six years.

After just a day and a half, Ford was fully-aware of his attachment to his niece and how much it would ruin him if he lost her. Mabel was everything a good person strives to be: kind, sweet, a pleasure to be around, but not a pushover, either; Mabel Pines knew how to stand her ground.

And so the last month was littered with so many happy memories. Ford was a little hurt when she “borrowed” two broken fishing poles and fixed them up so they could fish, but he very quickly enjoyed sitting on a log by a river and fishing with Mabel. Ford found it brought her much comfort to brush her hair, and he also discovered he enjoyed a calm brush himself. Ford found he didn’t mind the extra weight of his niece on his shoulders; quite the contrary, he found it comforting, and he was always swallowed with peace when she was so relaxed with him that she fell asleep, using his fluffy gray hair as a pillow.

No longer was Ford met with suspicious looks when he walked down the street of a market alone, face hidden. Quite the opposite. He was always met with smiles and warm greetings, and sometimes a little extra food was thrown into a purchase for free. Be it because people saw him as a parent with an adorable child, or because of Mabel’s charm. Or both.

The dimensions they came across were random and different, just like it was when Ford traveled alone. Some dimensions were like an alien sci-fi movie, completely different with no humans. Some dimensions were scaringly like home, with a small difference here and there. Ironically, the alien-like dimensions were typically safer, because they were used to travelers and weird-looking creatures.

But Ford guessed it would be okay if he and Mabel stepped into a normal grocery store to buy some food.

They had come across a “normal” dimension, and while Ford’s first thought was to retreat for the woods, he heard Mabel’s stomach growl, and he decided her health was more important. So they stepped in and kept to themselves.

Ford and Mabel were picking up crackers when the little girl grinned at rows of cereals behind them. “Grunkle Ford, can I please pick a cereal?” She asked politely.

The old scientist thought about it for a moment. Cereal would definitely cover a few meals and be light and easy to carry, and it wouldn’t get hold too quickly, and he had wanted to get her at least one nice thing while in the store, so he nodded and said, “Yes, dear, you may pick one box. Any flavor you want.”

“Thank you!” And Mabel took the time to hug him before skipping over to the cereals to look.

Ford chuckled and picked some crackers, then decided to browse the fruit snacks, debating if it would be wise. Probably not, because if they get stuck in another desert climate the gummies could melt and make a mess, but they could make a good snack for Mabel. He held his chin, debating the idea, while a couple was also looking over the cereals.

“Which do you think Dad would want?” The yellow-haired woman asked.

“Honey, who cares what Rick wants? Just get a cereal you’ll like.” The husband said with an eye roll.

Ford froze at that name. No no, that was most definitely a different Rick. It was a common enough name, and there were billions of dimensions. There was no way Ford and Mabel somehow managed to stumble into C-137. He ultimately decided against gummies and he then looked at the trail mixes and granola bars. Both were always a good option.

“I know, but I want him to feel welcome, you know?” The wife said as she picked a box. “He’s been travelling in space alone for years…”

Oh no. No, no, no. Ford quickly chose some packets of trail mix and several granola bars and hurried back to his niece. He was not going to do this today. Nope.

Mabel grinned at him, a box of cereal in hand, and she held it out to him. “Look, Grunkle Ford, do you like this flavor? I can pick a different one if you want.”

“Oh, thank you, my dear, but I like the one you picked.” Ford did a decent job masking his uneasiness and he took her hand and smiled. “Why don’t we pick up some fruit for today, and then we’ll go fishing for dinner?”

“Yay! Sounds great!”

Ford didn’t miss the yellow-haired woman smiling at them as they left the aisle. If that was who he thought it was… She really didn’t look anything like him. She might have just favored her mother. Who else would have spent years traveling space? Bastard.

Ford may have hated him for many reasons, but choosing to abandon his girls was at the top of the list.

At the checkout line, Ford nervously watched the total of their purchase go up with each beep. He recounted their cash and made a small list of items in his mind for them to go down if they couldn’t afford everything. A few granola bars can go. And, maybe they could find band-aids elsewhere and “borrow” them.

The worker rang up the last item and Ford smiled when he saw the total was 29.89. He had thirty. But then the worker pressed the total button and taxes were added. Shit, right. That made their total 35.45. Ford winced. Mabel looked up at him worriedly, but she smiled and stood on her tippy-toes to see the worker better.

“Hi, I’m Mabel! Can you please put the cereal back? We don’t really need it.”

Ford looked down at her, surprised and also a little disheartened. He had really wanted to get her at least one nice thing, but truth be told the cereal was the most expensive item, so it made sense to get rid of it first. Still, it sucked.

“Total’s now 32.14.”

Ford bit his lip. “Very well, may we please put the band-aids back, too?”

The worker nodded, seeming tired and annoyed, but they didn’t say a word. Blissfully, the total went down to 29.99.

With hands full of bags, Mabel and Ford paused at the beginning of the parking lot to move their groceries into their backpacks. While they worked, the old scientist said, “I’m sorry I could afford your cereal, Mabel.”

“Oh, it’s okay!” The girl said instantly. “I’ve got something even sweeter.” And she grinned at her grunkle and gave him a warm smile.

Ford smiled back at her tiredly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes you do.” Mabel insisted and hugged him around the neck, nuzzling her face into his shoulder and determined to sink as much comfort as she could into his skin. “I love you Grunkle Ford. Please don’t beat yourself up, m’k?”

Ford hugged her back and petted her short brown hair. It was certainly easier to feel better with a ball of sunshine in his arms.

They both heard rustling behind them as a buggy rolled from the door to the parking lot. They both looked behind Mabel and saw a bag with the cereal and the band-aids in it. They looked around and saw no one, except for the yellow-haired woman and her husband going to their car.

Mabel grinned and hollered to them, “Thank you!”

They didn’t respond, but the woman did smile and wave before putting groceries into her car. As appreciated as Ford was for her kindness, he wanted to get as far away from her as possible. No offense to her. She seemed like a very lovely lady.

But then it hit Ford like a pile of rocks. What was it he had said before he had pulled out his gun and left Ford to travel alone? “And hey, if you ever wanna travel without customs or waiting for wormholes to open, don’t come looking for me.” And then he winked and fell backwards into a pool of green, leaving Ford to curse his name.

If this was like before, when Ford was alone, he wouldn’t dare. But if he could help get Mabel home…

Ford took Mabel’s hand and muttered, “Come with me.” And she followed without question.

Beth felt good helping the old man and the little girl, and she didn’t expect anything more. Really, it was only five dollars worth of stuff. But she was happy when they started to walk towards her, so she trusted Jerry to finish loading up the car and she smiled at them.

“Excuse me, miss, I just want to thank you for what you did.” The old man said.

“Oh, you’re welcome, it was no trouble at all.”

“I… I hope I’m not being too invasive, but… but I believe you know someone I know.”

Beth smiled. Small world! “Really? That’s great! Oh, are you a relative of Dave’s? Or, you know, I do know a lot of people indirectly from the horse-track.”

“Er, no.” The old man gave her a more serious look, and then asked quietly, “Do you know Rick Sanchez?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Beth was so excited to give Stanford Pines and his niece, Mabel, a ride, and to invite them to dinner, not only because she thought seeing an old friend might make her dad smile, but maybe she’ll learn more about what he’s been up to all these years. The man was very polite and the girl was as sweet as can be, both of whom looked rough and in need of a cozy bed and maybe a soothing bath. Jerry was a little unsure, not wanting “more Ricks” into his house, but after a huf from the girl and a cheerful greeting, Jerry couldn’t help but tell the girl she was more than welcome, so now he was roped in.

Mabel noticed that her uncle looked distracted. He was looking out his window, but his eyes were elsewhere. He was thinking. So she decided to try to help him with his thoughts. “Grunkle Ford, who’s Rick Sanchez?” She asked quietly.

Ford looked at her, sighed quietly, and muttered, “He’s an intergalactic scientist. He’s ridiculously intelligent and clever, and… a bit…” Ford pursed his lips. All the words that came to mind he didn’t want Mabel hearing, so he settled on. “... mad.”

“Oh. Is he like a real mad-scientist?” Mabel asked, eyes sparkling with interest.

“Yes, but with less laughter, more slurs and sluggish demeanor, and even less consideration of other living things.”

Mabel noticed his cold tone and grew concerned. “You don’t like him, do you?”

Ford bit his lip. No, he didn’t. But there was a more important reason why he didn’t want to see Rick today.

Mabel leaned in closer and whispered, “Is he mean?”

Trust Mabel to sum it up perfectly for her uncle. “Yes.” Ford said just as quietly. “And I don’t want him meeting you.”

“Why?”

Ford hesitated. But being blunt and honest seemed to be working, and it was best for Mabel to prepare herself for the lion’s den they were walking into. “I don’t want him to hurt your feelings.” a bit elementary, but it was the best way to explain it to a child without scaring her too much.

Mabel, however, grinned. “Grunkle Ford, no one can resist the Power of Mabel.”

Ford smiled and ruffled her hair softly. “We’ll see…”

“So, if you don’t like Mr. Sanchez, then why are we going to go see him?”

“He’s an expert on interdimensional-travel.” Ford informed her. “He might know how to get us home.”

Mabel’s eyes widened and she “oh”ed as she realized what was going on.

~~~~~~~~~~

The garage door was open to let in good lighting and fresh air. But that wasn’t an invitation to come in whenever people feel like it; Rick will have to work on a security system to keep nosy neighbors away. He was opening a box and getting organized when he heard his daughter’s car roll into the driveway. He didn’t bother to look up, instead waited for the sounds of car doors opening to say something.

“Hey sweetie, welcome back.”

“Dad,” Beth said, sounding giddy. Rick hated giddy. But he had only been here for a week and he didn’t feel like making his daughter hate him just yet, so he settled for rolling his eyes and continuing what he was doing. “I have a surprise for you!”

“Wow! You have a nice house! Cool garage, too!” A young voice said.

Rick was halted. He turned in his chair and raised an eyebrow to find a young girl with short brown hair and braces holding hands with an old nerd with fluffy charcoal hair, glasses, and six fingers.

“Oh my God!” Rick laughed. “Holy-...” A dark look from the old traveler made Rick stop; he can piss him off later. First he needs to figure out why the hell he is here and what the hell he wants. “Jeez, you look terrible, Fordsie.” The mad scientist snorted as he leaned against his desk with his hands in his pockets.

Ford rolled his eyes and said, “And you still look like a soft breeze will blow you away, Sanchez.”

Mabel bit her lip and quietly, “Oooooh”ed, like she was listening to a rap battle.

“So,” Beth stretched, clearly hoping for more information or a more satisfying reunion, but she wasn’t getting it naturally, so she decided to push a little. “How do you two know each other?”

“The Multiverse is a pretty big place, sweetie.” Rick answered. “Don’t worry, I’ll have this nerd gone before you finish unloading the car. Don’t want to risk another mass genocide.” He sneered.

Ford’s face turned red and he yelled, “I didn’t know it was a planet! It looked too similar to a sandwich for it to be a planet!”

Rick laughed and looked at the little girl. She looked maybe a little younger than Morty. “Who’s that you got with you?”

Ford closed his eyes, debating if he should tell Rick it wasn’t any of his business, or get the introduction over with. But before he could make a decision, Mabel beat him to the punch.

She let go of Rick’s hand, hopped to him, and looked up at his bean-pole stature and smiled and waved. “Hi! I’m Mabel! You’re a scientist, too? Cool! I like your hair! How old are you? Have you ever met a dinosaur? What’s your favorite food?”

Rick blinked like a startled lizard at the girl, glanced up at Ford, and then looked back down at Mabel. Rick smiled and sat in his chair to be closer to her level, and held out a hand to shake, which she happily accepted and shook a little rough. “Hey there, I’m Rick. Yes, I’m a scientist. Thank you, I like your hair, too. Yes, I’ve met a dinosaur, several in different dimensions. And, pancakes.”

Mabel’s eyes sparkled. “I love pancakes, too! Maybe we can make some together!”

“Maybe, but I’ve got the feeling that’s not why you’re here.” Rick suggested kindly. And no, Ford wasn’t at all suspicious that he was being kind to Mabel.

“Oh! Yeah! Grunkle Ford thinks you can help us get home.”

“Huh. You’re great-uncle, huh? Sure, okay, let’s get started.” Rick rolled over to a cabinet and took out an odd machine. It came with a tiny needle and was attached to the machine by a small black wire, and the boxed machine had a screen of some sort on the side. “Mind if I prick your finger?”

“Sure!” Mabel held out her finger to him and Rick carefully held her wrist and pricked her finger, so small she hardly noticed it. “What for?”

“I need a blood sample to find your home dimension. Gotta send you to the right dimension.” Rick explained. “Fordsie, lemme get yours, too. How’d you two find each other, anyways?”

“I was in the Nightmare Realm when some idiot opened a portal and this little starshine fell into my arms.” Ford explained, stepping forward and giving Rick his finger.

“Okay, got it.” Rick said. “Well, there’s a possibility that you two come from different dimensions. Nothing too different about your homes, but there’s millions of dimensions. The probability that you two came from the same timeline and reality… there we go. It’s a match. That makes things easier.”

The small heart attack Ford was having went away. The idea of his starshine not being his was a nightmare. His life was complicated enough; he didn’t need his girl to not actually be his.

“Dimension 41’\. Huh, okay, gimme two seconds…” Rick pulled out his trusty portal gun and plugged it into the machine. A long list of dimensions popped up, and Ford prayed 41’\ would be on the list. “You two are lucky. I can go as far as 42’\, but the other 40s are out of range. Huh, i’ll have to work on that.”

“So,” Mabel grinned. “You can get us home?”

Rick smiled smugly and shrugged as he stood. “Yeah, sure.”

“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel cheered and hurled herself into his arms. “I can’t believe it! I’m gonna see Dipper again! I can’t wait for you to meet him!”

Ford smiled softly. He couldn’t believe it. It was all happening so fast and effortlessly. He was going to get Mabel home. They were both going home. Suddenly the idea of seeing Stanley again, meeting his grandnephew and all of Mabel’s friends and her pet pig sounded… a lot. He didn’t realize it, but he was becoming anxious and spacing out. But Mabel noticed, and she kissed his stubbly cheek and brought him back to reality.

Rick shot at the wall with his gun and an oozing green portal appeared. “There we go, 41’\. Wait, sh-oot, gimme a location.”

“618 Gopher Road.” Ford stated as he let go of Mabel. “Gravity Falls, Oregon. USA.”

“Got it.” Rick made the last portal disappear and shot a new one. “There. Now get-... Go on home.”

Mabel stepped up to Rick and said sincerely, “Mr. Sanchez, thank you for helping us.” And she hugged him around his tall skinny legs.

Rick pursed his lips awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to such positive energy and kindness. The old scientists looked at each other, Ford giving Rick a warning look, but something hidden in his face or eyes told the drunk that the nomad was actually grateful for his illegal device.

“Uh…” Rick settled on patting Mabel’s head and said, “Y-Y-You’re welcome.”

Mabel let go of Rick and held out a hand to Ford. “Ready?”

“Nope.” Ford took her hand and squeezed it. “Let’s do this.”

And without another word, the Pines walked through the green portal.

#GF #gravity falls #rick and morty #fanfiction #crossover #drifting stars au #portal ford #there's not enough sweater-twins bonding in the world #and yes #i purposely used 41'\ instead of the canon 46'\#gift #clownwry

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momoshin · 3 years

Note

Ryujin fluffy alphebet a-z 🥺🥺

A = Activities (What do they like to do with you? How do you spend your free time together?)

PICNICS! making your own food (or buying it sometimes) and setting a blanket in the middle of a nice park where kids and dogs could be easily spotted. she’ll ask you to read poetry to her, play her guitar for you, you’ll sing together, just two fools in love. also, scrapbooking! it’s something you both discovered you liked doing together very early on in your relationship.

B = Beauty (What do they admire about you? What do they think is your most beautiful feature?)

loves your lips, eyes and waist. she loves kissing you, but just looking at your lips makes her heart race, same with your eyes, she could keep eye contact with you forever, she just loves everything about them. and your waist is her hand’s favorite place, whether you’re sitting or standing, one if not both of her hands will always be on your waist.

C = Comfort (How would they help you when you feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

ryujin won’t bother to pull you aside, she doesn’t care if there’s anyone around, she will stop what she’s doing once she sees any signs of you struggling and asks if you need a breather or if she can help in any way, if you say no, she will stay by your side and let her hands run up and down your back to help you calm down, will hug you if you let her and tuck her chin on top of your head while humming melodies to you.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

she’s so selfless, even with dates she’s always making sure you’re comfortable with wherever and whatever you’re doing, hands always entangled and she’s always willing to pay for whatever you want

E = Equal (Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?)

dominant for sure, whether it’d be in bed or not

F = Fights (Would they forgive you easily? What are they like while fighting with you?)

she would hate fighting, the possibility of upsetting you to the point where you’d rather sleep on the couch than with her terrifies her, and as soon as you grab your pillow and a blanket, she grabs your wrist and tries to convince you to stay with her, puppy eyes full of apologies that her words couldnt quite express

G = Gratitude (How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what you are doing for them?)

SO grateful, ryujin is generally grateful for her life, where she is and such, but she always thanks you for doing small things for her, making her breakfast, anything really.

H = Hugs (What is their favorite way to hug and cuddle you?)

she personally loves when you casually come up to her and without interrupting her conversation, press up against her and wrap her arms around your shoulders yourself.

I = Inspiration (Did you change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

ryujin definitely holds less grudges ever since she met you, she doesn’t feel the need to see the people who have made her suffer, suffer, she doesn’t feel the need to prove herself to anyone, doesn’t listen to mean comments or people who just want to bring her down.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

mm depends ? she trusts you more than anyone, and she trusts both your friends, so when she gets jealous its more of a “why the fuck is that guy looking at my girlfriend like he wants to eat her” kind of thing, it usually involves someone she’s never seen before, and it leads to her walking over to the two of you and not so subtly placing a hand on your waist, calling you all sorts of nicknames while glaring at them

K = Kisses (Who initiated the first kiss? What kind of kisser are they? Shy? Passionate?)

she initiated the first kiss! she’ll peck your lips so many times in the day but as soon as she has the chance she will pull you to the side and get her well earned dose of kisses. her kisses usually range from short, repeated pecks, they are goofy at times, sensual even, and she finds herself biting your lip gently every once in a while

L = Love Confession (How would they confess to you?)

in bed, the two of you looking at each other silently and then she just says all these things that sounds like she’s proposing because it’s so detailed and you can tell she loves you so much it’s quite inevitable for you to cry or get teary eyed as she talks about everything she loves about how and how good you make her feel

M = Marriage (Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would your marriage be like?)

Yes but not yet, she would probably propose at a meaningful place for your relationship, and i have this vivid image of her wearing a bodysuit like the one for the gda’s last year for her wedding, she’d let you make the important decisions but would be completely involved whenever you asked for her opinion and would try to help as much as she could so it didn’t all pile up for you.

as for marriage, i think the dynamic would fit you both perfectly, the shiny bands on your hands, loves the way ‘my wife’ slips off her tongue as she introduces you to someone, or whenever someone asks you about each other and uses the ‘your wife’ it just gives you both butterflies all over again.

N = Nicknames (What do they call you?)

baby, angel, my love, short versions of your name sometimes!

O = On Cloud Nine (What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

everyone can notice, it’s like an aura she carries around and she’s instantly bubblier, in situations that maybe would’ve gotten a rise out of her she’s more patient, she’ll be nicer to her members and such,, she makes sure to text you good morning and good night, throughout the day, that she misses you, that she loves you, sends you small details when she can’t make it to deliver them personally, just always reminding you of her appreciation, besides, she never shuts up about you, her members claim are sick and tired of hearing ‘y/n this, y/n that’ but in reality, they love seeing ryujin so happy and loved.

P = Parent (What kind of parent would they be?)

idk if i can see ryujin with kids, but in the chance you do have any, she would be such a cool mom, taking them to her studio just so they could hop around to music while she choreographed something, maybe she has a room for them to play and nap if necessary too, and if you have a boy, she would be his hero literally, he’ll always want to be like her and copy her every move.

Q = Quirk (Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship or a cute quirk they have that many don’t know about)

she’s such a good cuddler/can make people fall asleep so easily, the way she expertly runs her hands through your hair or back lulls you into a deep slumber almost instantly, the kisses she presses on your nose and forehead only helping the matter

R = Romantic (How romantic are they? What would they do to make you happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

ryujin is so romantic in general, she just loves to express how much she loves you and cares for you in more ways than just saying it. and the long-lasting smile on your lips when she susprises you is so worth it too, it can range from bringing home a dish of chocolate covered strawberries to setting up a bath with rose petals and candles, to just taking a drive around the city to a pretty place she heard about, talking softly about everything and nothing

S = Secrets (Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

you pretty much share anything, honesty is very important for her and your relationship. plus she enjoys telling you even about the smallest details of her day

T = Thrill (Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?)

she doesn’t need to, ryujin is perfectly happy with your dynamic and so are you, but whenever the topic comes up she’s not opposed!

U = Unbearable (What habit do they have that’s unbearable? What habit do you have that they find unbearable)

EATING IN BED. i know y’all have seen that livestream of her eating tangerines in bed, sticky, juicy tangerines. so whenever she brings a snack or anything to eat to bed she’s expecting your side eye to what she responds promising to not make a mess and to clean it if she does.

and her, she hates your incredibly weird eating combinations, the fact that you will offer some to her to try too, she finds herself gagging just at the sight or smell and threatening to break up with you for laughing.

V = Videos (Do they take lots of videos or photos during your relationship?)

of course she does, like i said, the two of you enjoy scrapbooking, that means making your own scrapbook with your own photos taken by each other or strangers you asked on the street, writing down funny highlights of your dates to remember whenever you go through it. also, she has you as her background, it’s a funny yet endearing sight to see her flaunting the front of her phone to everyone so they would catch a glimpse of you as her wallpaper.

W = Wedding (What is your wedding like?)

so much fun, lots of dancing, kissing, and teasing, specially when it’s time to take your garter off ;)). but the most endearing moment is cutting the cake, it’s funny, nerve-wracking because everyone is looking at you, yet a beautiful memory you’ll hold on to forever as long as the photos capturing the moment.

X = eXtra (What is an interesting fact about them that they’ve only told you?)

maybe that she wants to have a farm at some point in her life

Y = Yearning (How do they cope when they’re missing you?)

she’ll call you, of course, talk to you, but ever since you made her a playlist, songs that reminded you of her, of the two of you, whenever she’s missing you she will listen to it, even if she knows the song letter by letter she will listen to all of them until the pain in her chest dissolves into something lighter. even when she’s sad and with you, she’ll play the songs and lay in your arms, sometimes crying with the soft murmur of your singing in her ear.

Z = ZZZ (What is it like sleeping with them? Do they like to cuddle or do they need space?)

i don’t think she moves at all lmao, like you will find every hair and muscle just the way you last saw it before closing your eyes, most of the time she likes cuddling, i feel like she is a bigger spoon type of person, but she will hide her face in your chest every once in a while to be able to go to sleep.

#ryujin blurb #ryujin headcanon #ryujin !#ryujin x reader #ryujin fluff #ryujin imagine #itzy imagine #itzy imagines #itzy fluff #alphabet #my stuff

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belovedbangtan · 4 years

Text

Dive| Part 10 | jjk

Pairings: Jungkook x y/n, Yoongi x oc

Word Count: 4.6k

Series Description: Camping with your ex, sounds horrible right? The camping trip was planned and payed for long before y/n’s shitty boyfriend broke up with her. Her best friend Abby, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook are there to make sure she has an amazing time. However, sharing a tent with a smoke show like Jungkook is bound to lead to some complications.

Warnings: language, *this chapter mentions mentally abusive actions* *Very clingy/Jungkook and oc*, mentions of sex. For real... seriously CLINGY.

✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️

They were attempting to be quiet but, their hushed tones were far from hushed. You’re awake now, eyes still closed as you process your current surroundings. You focus on the conversation that is seemingly between Jungkook, his cousin, and what you assume to be his aunt. She thanks him a countless amount of times and he tells her that it was no problem an equal amount of times. A hint of annoyance in his tone, but she clearly didn’t detect it at all. Then his cousin says something that you can barely make out, whispering being something she clearly comprehended; unlike her mother and Jungkook.

“We’re supposed to talk today, ill let you know what happens…” His voice veers off as if he suddenly became nervous.

“She cares about you Kook, I can tell. You care about her too, right?” she mumbles, no longer trying to whisper.

“A lot,” Is all you hear him respond with. His cousin giggles and tells him one final time not to stress and that everything will work out. She thanks him for the umpteenth time and they finally leave.

You wonder what time it is, laying there fully coherent but for some reason scared to open your eyes. After laying there for awhile and playing out every possible outcome, you decide to ‘wake up.’ Pulling yourself up into the sitting position, your pupils adjusting to the small amount of sunlight coming in from the windows.

“Good morning,” His voice is like honey, as he lifts his coffee cup to his lips. “Do you want some coffee?”

A soft smile and a nod have him gathering a cup and pouring the liquid gold into it. After telling him that you’ll take it black, he walks it over to where you are on the couch. You take it into your cold hands, sighing after taking a drink. Holy shit you were hungover.

You sit in silence long enough to wonder why it suddenly felt odd. You had so many things you wanted to say but couldn’t formulate the proper way to bring it up.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” you murmur, his large doe eyes peak up from his mug.

“Of course,” He answers, his face freezes when he realizes he doesn’t know what to say either. Or maybe, like you, how to say it.

Things go quiet again, you hear the birds chirping outside and the slow morning flow of traffic. You adjust yourself so that you’re facing him directly, your legs crisscrossed beneath you. His hair was fluffy, tame, but fluffy. The area around his eyes is slightly swollen and you wonder if he got any sleep last night. Mindlessly you set your mug down on the coffee table and you start moving across the couch to where he is. You still don’t know what or how to express what you need to but maybe you don’t need words. His eyes flick to yours, at first, he looks panicked then it quickly changed to relief. A smile pulling at his lips as he leans forward to set his mug next to yours. With his hands free, he sits back as you straddle his sweatpants clad lap. You take a deep breath, drinking in his morning beauty as his hands find their way underneath his shirt that clung to your body, resting on your hips just above the waist band.

When your eyes meet his, you forget why you worried at all. A wave of complacency rushing through your veins. With him you felt safe, with him you had no worries. Your fingers delicately push their way through his fluffy locks, letting your nails lightly scratch his scalp. His eyes close instinctively as he exhales deeply. As his head falls backward, your eyes are drawn to the center column of his throat. Fantasizing about how good it would look decorated in your love bites.

Before you can act on it, his words are pulling you from your heed.

“I’m really sorry that I made you upset last night, I should have told you what was going on so you didn’t worry,” his eyes meet yours and they’re filled with regret.

“Well I appreciate your apology, but I’m the one who should be apologizing. I guess I was just… confused, it hurt seeing you with someone else obviously.” you explain softly your fingers steadily raking through his hair.

He hums at your words, his fingers delicately brushing along your spine. Fire spreading from the tips of his fingers through your cold body. His brows shoot up, “I wish it wouldn’t have happened, but I learned something because it did,” his head tilts to the side as he drinks you in.

Staring into his whiskey colored orbs longer than you should have, “What did you learn?”

“I learned that… seeing you cry is something I never want to do again. I only want to make you happy, never sad,” He reaches up to cup your jaw, his eyes scanning over your face frantically.

Looking away from him, you feel your eyes start to well up. He inhales quickly before adjusting beneath you, “No… no, what did I say? I didn’t mean to ma…” he starts to panic, wondering what he said wrong.

“Remember when we were camping? And you told me I was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in your life, and I started to cry?” You chuckle. He reaches up to wipe away your tear. His body visibly relaxes when you compare the situations.

“Mhm, and you told me that no one had every talked to you like that,” his voice is quiet. You have to swallow the lump in your throat when you realize he remembers that moment as clear as you do.

“Well it’s true, ya know? I don’t know if I’ve ever been properly…loved,” You start to explain, “At the same time, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this way about anyone else. You make me feel like I’m crazy. There’s something about you that’s so intoxicating to me. I’ve never experienced having someone care about me the way you do or pay attention to me the way you do. It’s all so new to me, I’d be lying if I said that I’m not terrified.”

When you look up at him, he’s nervously chewing the side of his mouth. You laugh through your nose, leaning forward to press your lips to his. When you start to pull away his lips chase after yours. He kisses you a little more passionately this time as his hand wraps itself around the back of your neck pulling you down to him again. Breathlessly you pull apart, his hand still holding you close as your forehead rest on his.

“I’ve never been in this deep for someone, y/n. I’ve never cared about someone as much as I do you. I don’t know why. I can’t explain why I have these feelings for you but, I do. You make me so happy, and you bring a peacefulness that I’ve never felt before. I fucked up once, and I promise you that I will never do anything to hurt you ever again. Like I said… only want to make you happy.”

Your tears are mixing with his, and you can’t stop them from coming. You know that everything he’s telling you is true. You know that even though he hurt you, he didn’t mean to. You know that if you allow him too, he will love you with all of his heart for the rest of his life.

“I know we were going to talk about this tonight, but I can’t wait anymore, “His voice was shaking, almost as if he was unsure of the words that were about to be spoken. He sits up tall so that his face is mere inches from your own. He swallows hard, and his nerves start to rub off on you.

You raise your brows giving him a gentle smile as your fingers slide down to the back of his neck, silently telling him that he didn’t need to be nervous. He exhales loud in response.

His hands quivering as they rest on your sides, “I want to be with you. I want to be all yours, and I want you to be mine. I know what I want, and I don’t want you to be confused about anything anymore. Will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”

Your chest tightens with every confession that leaves his lips. The overwhelming feeling to scream or yell or cry. His eyes scanning your face for an answer, a hint, anything to ease his nerves.

Your voice is shot, so you nod aggressively. Tears shaking off of your face. Before you can get your full response out his lips are on yours fervent and passionate as his fingers lace in your hair on the back of your head to pull you closer to him.

He pulls back to take you in once again, “I’m sorry, I’m just having a hard time believing that you’re finally mine.”

You giggle as he pulls you in again kissing you slower this time, taking in the details to remember this specific moment and the exact way he feels. He wonders if he should tell you he loves you. He wants to, he wants to scream it from the roof top. He was honest about never being this deep. Part of him thought he may never know what it felt like to be in love. Up until you, it was short relationships that were always one sides and lacked something vital. Up until you, love didn’t exist. To him, you were love.

“So, does this mean…we can get breakfast instead of dinner? I’m literally starving to death,” Your stomach groans rip through the silent room. Jungkook instantly starts to die of laughter.

“Yes baby, I’ll make you some pancakes, sound good?” He shakes his head, giggling at your dramatic head nod.

Sitting across from him as you eat breakfast, reality set in. Everything felt surreal. Every fiber of your being was ready to dive into what ever was in store for you and Jungkook. As much as you convinced yourself that you were ready for the next step, there was no denying that you were terrified of giving your heart to him. Obviously, the sexual attraction was there, but you wondered if that was part of what was making everything so intense for you.

Jungkook was an anomaly to you in so many ways. He was caring, attentive, and insanely attractive. The most dangerous thing about him, however, was his ability to bring you to your knees; literally and figuratively. He was like a sex God that you couldn’t say ‘no’ to, because why would you? During your time away from him, you wondered how you would feel if you hadn’t allowed yourself to be with him sexually. The automatic intimacy was something about your relationship that made you miss it; made you miss him.

“What’s on your mind?” His voice is laced in innocence as he cocks his head to the side. Stacking your plate on top of his. You have to laugh at his innate ability to see through you. Another reason it was so hard to deny your chemistry.

“I guess, I was just thinking about us,” your bottom lip is instantly sucked into your teeth as you look away from him.

You hear him hum as he stands to put your plates in the sink, “Anything you want to share?” he asks. You can tell he’s somewhat anxious by the way he avoids you. His back turned away from you as he fidgets with the dirty dishes in the sink. You stand and wrap your arms around the back of him.

“Nothing bad, I don’t think at least… just maybe want to take things… slow.” You mumble into his back, feeling his quiet chuckles rumble against your cheek. He turns in your arms, brushing your hair behind your ears before cupping each side of your head.

“I’m listening,” He smiles.

You take a deep breath as you explain how you feel. Ultimately ending by telling him that you want to wait awhile before the two of you do anything sexually.

“It’s not like I don’t want to, I just think it’s smart if we maybe slow things down a bit. The way we should have at the start. I like you a lot Jungkook, and I want to be confident that we exist outside of our sexual attraction…” you ramble, his attention on you never faltering. “Do you hate me now?”

His eyes scrunch together, appalled that you would ever assume that he could hate you.

“I could never hate you,” He presses his lips to your cold nose, “What I feel for you is way more than sex. But I get that I need to prove that to you, and I will. I think that if that if it’s something you need from me than I will go as slow as you need me to.”

“You promise you’re not mad? Or upset?” you ask him quietly, swallowing hard. He lightly grips your chin, pulling your face up so that you’re looking at him.

“Baby… why do you think I would be mad?” He asks, his voice is soft and concerned.

“I-I don’t know,” your chest starts to tighten, and tears start to build up in the corners of your eyes, “Ben would get mad if I didn’t want to. He always made me feel guilty because I made him wait three months before we had sex. He said he didn’t mind at first, but he did.”

Jungkook wraps his arms around your shoulders pulling your in close. His face red with fury. If he thought he had reasons to hate Ben before, now he had motive for murder. He lifts you up, setting you on the counter so he can stand eye to eye with you.

“Look at me baby,” he demands softly, “I would never make you feel guilty for not wanting to have sex with me. You are so much more than your body and I need you to know that. We can take things as slow as we need to take them. I want you to trust me completely, I will never hurt you.” He pleads, begging for you to believe that he was someone different.

Tears building in his own eyes now, guilt of his own words and actions weighing even heavier. He knew that he hurt you when you overheard his conversation with Ben, but it was so much more than that. You let your walls down for him, and he completely let you down. He pulls you into him tighter this time. Understanding how vital it is for him to love you properly. To show you how incredibly special you are to him.

Your conversation ended there. You both moved to the couch, deciding to watch a movie while you cuddled with one another; not quite yet ready to let one another go.

“Abby is going to lose it when she finds out we’re actually together.” You murmur into his chest with a giggle. You feel his chest shake when he starts to laugh quietly.

“Yeah Jimin and Tae have been making bets on if and when it would happen.”

“Assholes,” You shake your head, rolling your eyes at their immaturity. At the same time you cant blame them for finding a way to make your roller coaster of emotions somewhat entertaining for them.

“Are you going to Jimin’s movie night tomorrow?”

“Yeah, should we tell them then?” you ask

“Maybe… or maybe we should have some fun with it?” He grins down at you.

“I’m listening…” You tilt your head on his chest to look up at him.

“Well if Jimin and Tae are betting on us, you know Abby is playing along too. So, what if we tricked them. When we show up tomorrow, we not only act like were not dating… but as if we have no feelings at all. They’ll be so confused.” He giggles.

“When do we tell them?” you bite your lip, weighing out the scenario in your head. You know they’ll be pissed but that’s what makes it intriguing.

“Mmm… I guess when we leave? Unless they catch on before that.” He shrugs, looking down at you.

“They’re gonna be pissed,” You giggle raising your brows.

“I know,” He laughs, clearly that’s the point for him.

“Alright lets do it.”

Movie night comes faster than expected. You almost fucked up the plan by wearing Jungkook’s sweater over your leggings. Last minute you had to run inside and switch it out for one of your own. You and Jungkook ride together, deciding that you’ll go inside a few minutes before him. You’ll tell everyone that you took an Uber if they ask.

“Remember, pretend I don’t exist.” Jungkook reminds you, as he pulls into the parking spot. You glance over at him, nodding your head. His sharp jawline on full display as he chews at his bottom lip. His tattooed arm flexing as he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. He reaches down and puts his car into park. As soon as he does you instantly reach across turning his head to look at you.

“You say that like it’s going to be easy…” You mumble as you drink in his facial features, the mole just under his lip begging to be kissed. His lips start to pull into a smirk. Without thinking you push yourself out of your seat and over to his lap. Straddling him with one leg on either side of his. His eyes follow your every movement, his breath hitching when you finally make yourself comfortable. His hands naturally reaching behind you to cup your ass over the thick material of your leggings.

Finally facing the truth, you will never get used to the way he looks you. His dark caramel colored eyes reminding you of Whiskey in more ways than one. The way they warm your entire body from head to toe, or the way that they make you want to risk it all; never thinking about the consequences. Completely and utterly intoxicating.

You lean in kissing his cheek with a feather light touch, his eyes never leaving you. With your fingers just below his jaw, your lips dance along his cheek, closer and closer to his plump lips. Both of you letting out a sigh of relief when you finally reach them. Your lips fitting together as if they were made for each other. His tattooed hand suddenly comes up to your neck pulling you desperately closer. His tongue teasing your bottom lip just before he decides to let it slide inside. Your tongues tangle together for what feels like a century, until he pulls away, trapping your bottom lip in between his teeth as he does.

“Fuck, I don’t know if I can do this,” He giggles as he tries to regulate his breathing. You giggle as you leave a trail of kisses down the side of his neck. You know it’s not helping the situation but if you’re not allowed to talk to him or look at him for the next 3 hours you needed to get in what you could now. With one final, long, kiss to his lips you open his car door to let yourself out.

“It’ll be worth it,” You giggle, realizing his hand was still holding onto yours. You look at his lap realizing that you caused quite the situation. You wince, biting your lip as you look at him with sorry eyes. “Ill go inside and let you figure that out,” You giggle as you start to walk away.

“I thought you were supposed to be sweet?!” He yells out sarcastically, only making you laugh harder.

It was harder than you thought it would be. Not because you desperately wanted to snuggle up to Jungkook on the couch, but because between Tae, Jimin, and Abby; you couldn’t catch a break. The second you were in the door they were on you like bats out of hell. Asking you every question under the moon about you and Jungkook and your impending status. You immediately excused yourself to the restroom, claiming you had to pee the entire way here. Once you were away you texted Jungkook telling him to come inside so they would stop hounding you. You knew they wouldn’t talk about it if you were in the same room.

Conveniently, Jungkook walked into the apartment as soon as you walked back into the kitchen. You smiled at him, then quickly excused yourself to the living room to sit and wait for the movie to start. Jungkook follows your lead, sitting directly across the room from you. His eyes meet yours for a brief second, and you wish you had the ability to read his mind. The not so quiet whispers from the kitchen catch your attention. You have to giggle a bit at how overdramatic they were being. No doubt, they were confused. If it weren’t for Yoongi yelling out for them to join everyone in the living room, they probably would have stayed in the kitchen trying to figure out what was happening.

They all file into the room, their eyes casually flicking from you to Jungkook. Abby cuddles up to Yoongi, her eyes tight on you. You avoid her at all cost, knowing she would try to communicate through her eyes. Jimin sits with Jungkook and Tae plops down next to you. His innocent smile playing on his lips as he turns his head and looks you up and down.

“You doin okay?” His brow lifts as he asks you.

“Uhm… yeah?” You giggle, scrunching your brows as you adjust the cover that lays over your body, “Are you?” you smile.

He looks over at Jungkook, who is seemingly immersed in whatever is on his phone screen.

“Im… good.” He answers, his brain still trying to put the pieces together. Jimin is talking to Jungkook but it doesn’t look like he’s getting the answers he wants. As Yoongi presses play on the movie, all of the questions come to a halt. You can still feel Abby’s eyes burning into your head. Midway through the movie you can tell they’re all texting one another, each of their phones going off at the same time.

Your phone goes off a few minutes later…

Kookie:

He keeps asking me and I keep shrugging my shoulders. He’s losing it… this is so funny.

Wait awhile to respond, they’re watching.

Controlling your reaction on your face was harder than you thought it would be. You calmly set your phone down, resting your head on the couch. A few minutes later you decide to go to the restroom, pulling your phone out to text Jungkook back.

Y/n:

Yeah they’re for sure losing their minds.

… this is kinda hard.

*send*

You glance at yourself in the mirror, fidgeting with your appearance. A risque thought comes to your mind. You know you shouldn’t but, at the same time, you can’t think of a reason not to. You quickly take your hoodie off of your body and slide your leggings down your legs. Adjusting the waistband of your panties, then adjusting your girls in your bra. You sit on the edge of the bathroom counter, making your ass look fuller than it actually is. After playing with angles, you decide to take your bra off since he can see your tits from this angle anyway. After a few tries you finally capture the perfect picture.

Plopping down on to the couch, you wait a few minutes until you see Jungkook take his phone out of his pocket. Hiding your phone, you quickly press send, and adjust yourself so you can see his reaction. His eyes suddenly widen as he rearranges himself on the couch. His eyes flick up to yours, making your chest burn with a simple look. His pupils are blown out as he gnaws on the corner of his mouth anxiously. He pulls a pillow over his lap and waits a few more minutes before responding.

Kookie:

Baby doll, this was not a part of the plan.

I cant stop mentally undressing you now.

As you read the message, the corners of your mouth lift into a cocky smirk. The pillow over his crotch tells you everything you need to know. As the movie comes to an end, everyone starts to talk about their weekend plans. Jungkook is quiet as his eyes are locked on you. His leg bouncing beneath him, as he leans on his elbow. You pick up your phone trying to decide on the words to say. As your fingers ghost over the screen, you can’t seem formulate what you want to say to him. You slowly look up and when you make eye contact with him, your mind is made up.

You slide your phone into your hoodie pocket, as you slowly push yourself off of the couch. Jimin going on about weekend plans in the background, but you and Jungkook are in a world of your own. As you walk across the room, you don’t notice when the room goes silent. Jungkook instantly perks up when he realizes what’s happening. Straightening his posture, he moves the pillow on his lap, and you take its place. Straddling him as if no one is in the room. Leaning into him, you gently slide your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck pulling his face up to yours.

Both of your smiles disappear when his lips hit yours, pressing into you for longer than he should have. When you finally pull away your rest your forehead against his.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi.” He smiles.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!” Abby and Jimin scream nearly in sync with one another. You and Jungkook both start to die of laughter, as you adjust yourself to sit in his lap facing the others.

Taehyung, Jimin and Abby staring at you like you have three heads.

“Are you… are you together? Officially?” Abby throws Yoongi’s arm off of her so that she can stand up.

You look at Jungkook, and you both nod.

“Finally! For fucks sake. It took you long enough.” Yoongi groans out of nowhere, expressing the thoughts that were on everyone mind. The whole room erupts into laughter, and snide comments about how cruel we were to trick everyone. Abby and Jimin expressing their annoyance with not being called immediately.

“We just thought it would be funny. We know you guys have been placing bets on when it would happen, “Jungkook says as his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you in closer to him as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck.

An overwhelming feeling of contentment washes over you. Jungkook’s lips lightly brushing against your shoulder as if he needed to make up for the time that he wasn’t able to. His fingers laced with yours as his thumb brushes the back of your hand. It felt so natural. Even everyone around you had seemed to move on, clearly it felt right to them too.

His lips trail from your shoulder up to your ear, moving your hair out of the way, “No one will ever wonder if we’re together anymore. From now on, everyone will know that you’re mine and I’m yours.”

✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️

Taglist:

@cainami @carolsummerlove @zeharilisharaban @jikooksgirl19 @fallen-for-luke @madygswich @sugalarity @lofikoo @ggukkieeee @peachy-bhun @megs58298 @kawaiiayasan @ jeonchan26 @ambersaesthetics @hopekookies @rumpucis @iaintnohollybackgirl

A/N: THANK YOU for your patience on this chapter. There will be one more chapter (maybe two) after this one! I got a new job and life has been hectic. Please let me know what you think! (let all of your favorite writers know how much you love their work! We appreciate it more than you know!)

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years

Text

Good Omens one-shot - “When God Closes a Door, She Opens a Window, But It's Up to You to Find It” (Rated T)

Summary: Crowley goes through unconventional lengths to escape a bad blind date...

... and ends up finding an angel in an unexpected place. (2770 words)

Notes: This is a re-write of an older story, but I think I like this version better. Human au. Fluffy as heck. CW: If you get squicked out by being covered in food trash, proceed with caution.

Read on AO3.

"Bollocks... bollocks... bollocks... bollocks... " Crowley mutters as she paces back and forth, simmering behind her eyeballs with so much anxiety she's about to tear her hair out by the roots. The only plan she can come up with to solve her current dilemma grows hotly in her mind, but she's searching for something - ANYTHING! - to take its place.

Maybe something along the lines of acting like an adult, womaning up, and admitting this isn’t going to work? Be upfront about it and say it to the man’s face, for Heaven's sake! 'Go on, Crowley!' she thinks. 'Go ahead! One foot in front of the other. Steady on! You can do this!'

But she’s become so tired of the grind – going to bars, faithfully tending her online dating profile, endless blind dates set up by well-meaning friends, the rejecting and the rejections. She can’t face one more. It physically hurts, knots her stomach muscles until the pain turns her world monochromatic.

Crowley had had high hopes for this one, too. Her date Steven is the new doctor of the boy she nannies. He and Crowley have plenty in common – a love of theater and fine dining, and an appreciation for fashion. Crowley thought dating a pediatrician would be fascinating. After summarizing the pertinent details of her own life, perhaps her date would talk about getting through medical school, toss in a few whimsical stories about the joys (quote/unquote) of working with children - baby’s first shots where the parents cried more than the infant, or the tale of a precocious little girl who demanded he put a Band-Aid on her teddy before he helped her (the way Crowley's young charge had with his first doctor when he was around three). They could swap war stories, bond in that way.

But Steven’s favorite part of his profession is pediatric surgery, and, unfortunately, he loves to talk shop. Every morsel of conversation has been inappropriate for dinner and graphic in nature - appendectomy this and tonsillectomy that, abscesses and pus and untreated sores - until Crowley’s face turned as green as her salad and she couldn’t look at her steak anymore.

Neither could their neighbors, who flagged down a passing waiter and requested a new table. They've been sat near the kitchen, which most diners would loathe, but they look heaps happier.

Crowley excused herself as delicately as she could and raced to the loo, needing to escape any more gruesome talk.

That was over fifteen minutes ago.

She’s trapped with no way out.

She pictures the layout of the restaurant in her head. There has to be a back way in and out of this place. All restaurants have an exit through the kitchen, right? But the toilet, the kitchen, and the front door are all in full view of their table. Steven is sure to spot her sneaking out no matter how stealthy she is.

Crowley turns on the cold water and splashes her face, scolding herself to think, think, think! She’s an intelligent woman. She can come up with a way out of this. Could she phone someone to come down to the restaurant and make an excuse for her? Not likely, not on short notice. Her friends Anathema and Newt wouldn't be able to find a sitter - ironic, seeing as Crowley is a nanny, and if the tables were turned, she'd be more than willing to lend a hand.

Could she phone her employers, ask Mrs. Dowling to claim an emergency at home? No. She doesn't want to get them tangled up in her personal woes, especially when they concern a man they think of so highly.

She could look up one of those services that make fake calls to your cell phone to get you out of sticky situations, but that would mean going back out there to make the ruse believable. And from the way her hands lock around the lip of the basin every time she thinks about taking a step outside the door, she knows that isn’t happening.

Crowley looks at herself in the mirror, looks into her eyes, and reminds herself to calm down. Slow her breathing. She’ll find a solution.

And suddenly, there it is.

In the reflection of the mirror, she sees what might be her only way out.

A window.

The only window in there, propped open enough that she’d be able to fit through.

It’s kind of high, sort of narrow, and definitely a last resort. But what other choice does she have?

Loads, in reality. It just doesn't feel like it.

But does she really have to resort to jumping out a window? She’s already been in there for (she checks her watch and her eyes open wide) twenty-five minutes! And her date hasn’t come to check on her once. Maybe the man got the hint and left (hopefully after paying what should be close to a hundred-pound check).

Crowley tests her luck, opening the door a sliver, praying silently don’t be there, don’t be there, don’t be there...

But there is no God - not one on her side, anyway - because there sits Dr. Steven Malory, talking to the waiter, telling him about another fascinating surgical procedure. He makes an exaggerated cutting motion across his stomach with a butter knife. The poor waiter, weighed down by a tray of soup bowls, nods politely, but looks like he may vomit in the tureen.

She winces. That poor waiter. Who knows how many times he's been called upon to lend an ear since her absence, or how many more times he'll be forced to endure another gory tale before Dr. Malory realizes she's gone. She peeks over her shoulder at the window, then back to the table, where Steven has his phone out, Googling something to the waiter's dismay. She slowly closes the door and backs away.

Window it is.

Crowley shelves the nagging feeling that she's perpetuating the most pathetic trope in the dating world and starts constructing a platform. There’s not much available – a small stepstool underneath the sink; a short, square, plastic rubbish bin that looks less than steady; another taller rubbish bin, dented along one side, looking like someone else already used it to make a break for freedom; and the toilet and basin, both miles away and completely unmovable.

Crowley does some quick engineering in her head and figures that if she turns the small bin over onto the stepstool, she might gain the height she needs to grab the lip of the window and hoist herself up, which would eliminate using the dented bin. She doesn’t like the odds that she won’t slip, fall, and crack her head open. She’s not so much worried about doing any permanent damage, but of having to explain to her date why she’s lying on the floor, covered in trash, and bleeding profusely.

With her luck, he'll giddily insist on stitching up any gashes, drawing a crowd of bystanders around to watch.

Crowley pushes the stool up against the wall with her foot. She dumps the trash from the small bin into its larger counterpart and sets it on the stool, centering it as best she can to keep it from sliding. With a hand on the wall for support, she puts a foot on the bin and attempts to pull herself up. It wobbles back and forth, then gives one backward lurch that nearly sends Crowley flying.

She determines quickly that this isn’t going to work the way she had planned and makes a desperate leap for the window, using all her upper body strength to get her halfway through.

Crowley shudders when the cold air hits her skin, shocked by the drop in temperature, but mostly from fear of death. She looks down.

A huge mistake on her part.

A horribly placed streetlamp keeps her from seeing into the alley, but she’s pretty sure she remembers a dumpster underneath this window. She had parked her Bentley in the lot across the way and saw it on the walk in. She looks out into the rows of cars and spots her vehicle. She sighs with relief.

Now she’s a little more sure, but still not 100%.

Worst case scenario, she lands in food muck, probably not rotten since it’s still actively dinner, and ruins an expensive designer outfit.

Of course, that’s not actually the worst-case scenario, is it? Worst case scenario, she misses the dumpster altogether, hits the pavement, and breaks her leg, but she’s determined to remain optimistic. At this moment, when her anxiety-ridden brain has her convinced that the only logical route out is through this flippin' window, that’s a chance she’s willing to take.

She swings her right leg over, grateful that she chose slacks over a skirt tonight, till she’s straddling the narrow sill, bent in half by the metal lip of the window frame. She balances there, the dull edge digging into her sternum, her belly, and her crotch, but she can’t make herself jump.

She’ll need to trick herself into it.

She forces herself to relax, teeter-tottering back and forth, not dwelling on the possible outcome, just trying to work her way to the right far enough that she knocks herself off-kilter.

Fate lends a hand in the form of a drunken passerby yelling, “Oi! Oi, lookie there! There’s a big bird... human... thing hanging out that window!”

Crowley panics, afraid she's about to be mistaken for someone breaking into a busy restaurant and not out. She fumbles, flails, starts falling head first, scrambles to get a hold. She hears a distant, “No! No, wait!” as her fingers slip. There are three seconds of cold wind and a sinking feeling in her stomach before she lands on her bum, thankfully in the dumpster, surrounded by the smell of not-too-rank food, the squish of something under her body that she thinks might be mashed cauliflower...

... and a scream.

“Ouch!”

“Oh my God! I’m sorry!”

Crowley yelps when her body lifts, something extraordinarily strong underneath pushing her up. She reaches around the slippery mess and wet plastic bags, struggling to pull herself off whoever is in the rubbish under her while trying to ignore the gravy seeping into her slacks, or the rice pilaf embedding itself beneath her freshly glossed fingernails. She knows she's broken two at minimum.

How much worse could this evening get?

“I’m sorry!” Crowley scrambles to her knees, crawls away a few feet. “I’m so, so sorry!”

“It’s alright, my dear.” A voice underneath her chuckles, its owner emerging from a layer of poached fish and au gratin potatoes.

Crowley turns in time to catch a glimpse as they move into the light. A woman wearing a vintage-inspired emerald gown covered in Hollandaise sauce and ranch dressing smiles sheepishly at her. The white light overhead gives a halo effect to her silvery-blonde hair, and her blue eyes almost glow.

She's quite breathtaking.

“I thought I had reserved a private dumpster,” she jokes. “I’ll need to have a word with the maître de."

Crowley stares at her, stunned. “I… I don’t understand. What are you doing in here?”

“I suspect I might be here for the same reason as you,” she says, wiping mayonnaise off her hand before offering it to Crowley. “I’m Aziraphale.”

“Crowley. I’m sorry I landed on you.” She takes Aziraphale’s hand, forgetting to wipe hers off before and smushing creamed spinach between them. Crowley groans in embarrassment, but Aziraphale laughs.

“No worries.” Aziraphale doesn't let go immediately the way Crowley thought she would, her smile becoming brighter the longer she holds on. “It’s the most exciting thing that’s happened all evening.”

“So... I take it you’re running away from a bad date, too, huh?” Crowley asks, regretting when Aziraphale finally lets go.

“I'm afraid so.” Aziraphale glances down with a long sigh. “A friend set me up, but I swear, the only men she knows are unemployed, torpid, and skeevy.”

“Wow. That’s some A-plus word usage right there.”

“Yes, well, the written word is my passion."

“Does that mean you're the one who wrecked the silver rubbish bin?"

“Did I?” Aziraphale looks up at the window and grimaces. “I should probably offer to replace that then, shouldn't I? What about you?” Aziraphale turns her soft blue eyes back Crowley's way. “How bad was your date going?”

“I can now perform an appendectomy with my eyes shut.”

“Yikes. I take it that’s not a turn-on for you?”

“Not in the slightest. I appreciate medicine as much as the next gal, but I’d rather not know the gritty details." Crowley stares at Aziraphale until Aziraphale notices, then the two look away, blushing like giggly teenagers flirting in a coffee shop instead of two adults stuck in the trash. Crowley can't help herself. Regardless of the stench of curdled butter and cheese that will probably be with her for life, Aziraphale is a calming presence. And she looks like an angel. An honest-to-God angel!

And Crowley found her in the trash.

What are the odds?

“You know, we might want to get out of here before anyone else drops in,” Aziraphale suggests, rising to her feet and lending Crowley a hand.

“Yeah,” Crowley agrees. "Guess that's my night over. Though... " She looks down at her blouse and trousers, positively caked with sweet potatoes, chicken grease, tomato sauce, and chutney "... I’m not looking forward to driving home like this.”

"How far do you have to go?"

"I'm in Mayfair."

"Oh!" Aziraphale gasps. "Isn't that a lovely part of town?"

"I enjoy it," Crowley replies, never having felt quite so proud to live in Mayfair as she does in this moment. "And you?"

"I have a shop in SoHo."

"Lucky. You're just a hop, skip, and a jump, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am... " Aziraphale chews the inside of her cheek as her words hang, balanced in the air between stopping a thought or continuing it. “I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward, but if you come back to my shop, I have a shower. We could clean up there... " Aziraphale sputters when Crowley's eyebrow arcs sharply upward. "S-separately, of course! A-and order in some pie. I know a great spot nearby. I dare say they have the best pie in the world! And they deliver.”

“I don’t have a change of clothes,” Crowley says, wary of taking Aziraphale up on her invitation. Garbage notwithstanding, meeting her has definitely been an improvement to the way things were going.

"I might have something that would work for you." Aziraphale sizes Crowley up, but not in a creepy way. In a surprisingly nurturing way. "It would be nice to salvage the evening, don't you think?"

"It would." But one disastrous date is plenty for the night. Should Crowley jump straight to another with a woman she met in a dumpster? Then again, it would be wrong for her to assume that spending time with Aziraphale would be disastrous. Plus the story of how they met is way too fantastic to waste on self-doubt.

Crowley took a chance on jumping out a window with only hope to guide her. She’d be stupid not to take a chance on this.

“Sure,” Crowley says, confident with her decision. “Your car or mine?” The words slip out before she considers the fact that she's talking about her baby. A vintage car that she, due to an extreme case of sheer luck, has been the sole owner of. She won't even wear muddy shoes in her car. Or rayon! On top of her own ruined outfit, which will need to be dry cleaned twice and then set on fire, if she lets Aziraphale in her car, she'll have two sloppy, food-stained seats that she’ll need to have scoured.

Maybe Aziraphale will laugh her off and offer to take her own car. Why would she want to leave it behind, anyway?

“Oh, I didn't drive,” Aziraphale says, looking down sadly at her own destroyed dress. “I took the bus.”

Crowley's heart clenches. There's that decision made. There's no way she's going to suggest Aziraphale take the bus while Crowley drives her car. She just prays that, with time, her baby will forgive her.

“My car it is then.” Crowley loops her arm covered in soup through Aziraphale’s arm covered in whipped cream and leads the way. Aziraphale smiles, holds Crowley's arm a wee bit tighter, and Crowley becomes certain this new development will be worth the money she'll spend detailing her car in the morning.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable wives #ineffable idiots #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

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wafflebatter8225 · 3 years

Text

Pepperony Gift Exchange Fic

Title: Top Chef

Pairing: Tony Stark/Pepper Potts

Rating: G/Fluff

Timeline: Takes place right after Iron Man 2

Recipient: @roberteliasdowney

Author’s Note: @roberteliasdowney I am so, so sorry for the lateness of your fic. My muse did not want to cooperate with me. I could not figure out a good coffee shop au fic for you, but I do hope you enjoy this.

Pepper blearily blinked her eyes open and it took her several moments to realize that she wasn’t in her house. Heck she wasn’t even in her own bed. She currently lay under devilishly soft sheets that had to be a four figure thread count. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the intoxicating combination of expensive sandalwood cologne and motor oil. That meant she was in Tony Stark’s bed.

The memories of last night surfaced to her mind: eating takeout in his living room, making out on the couch before activities moved upstairs. Pepper remembered Tony’s callused hands over her body, the prickle of his mustache on her legs, and the weight of his arm over her hip as they fell asleep. With a sleepy smile, she turned over and her hand encountered cool sheets. Sitting up, Pepper wondered where Tony had disappeared. Did he regret letting her stay over? Did he go sleep in another bedroom after she fell asleep?

“I didn’t know if you wanted Tabasco or ketchup so I brought both.”

Did he just go down stairs and make her breakfast? He entered the bedroom carrying a tray of food.

It took a moment for her sleep addled brain to answer. “Huh?”

“For your scrambled eggs.” He stood by her side of the bed with a knowing smile. “You thought I left.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did.”

“Well…” she paused. “You did kind of leave.”

“But to make you breakfast! Ta-da!” He lay down the tray over her legs with flourish. He presented her with a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and sausage with a cup of fresh coffee. “I’m sorry about the sausage; it’s a little over done.”

Overdone was an understatement; the meat was blackened to charcoal links.

“This looks wonderful,” she replied softly. “Thank you.”

Pepper skipped over the sausage, and took a bite of the scrambled eggs. It was like chewing on a mouthful of rubber bands. Unlike his mushy omelet from several days ago, these were clearly overdone as well.

“I didn’t have enough time to make an omelet so I did scrambled eggs instead.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him a normal omelet didn’t take three hours to cook.

Thankfully the Tabasco bottle was mostly full so that would help cover up the texture…she hoped.

The pancakes looked safe as they were a fluffy golden brown, complete with a square of butter and smothered in maple syrup. She cut a piece, and no batter came leaking out. All right, Tony Stark couldn’t cook sausage or eggs, but maybe he could do pancakes.

The moment the food hit her taste buds, she took the words immediately back. No, no Tony Stark couldn’t cook pancakes. They were salty?! How the hell did he make the pancakes so damn salty? The syrup thankfully cut some of the salt, but God, she couldn’t imagine how bad the pancakes would be without the condiment.

She worked really hard to school her features as she forced the bite down, because he looked so hopeful. “What do you think?” he asked.

If Tony were a puppy, his tail would be wagging. His grin was big and his brown eyes twinkled with excitement.

As bad as the food tasted, this man went out of his way to cook breakfast for her even though he couldn’t cook and never cooked; even for himself let alone anyone else.

Taking his face between her hands, Pepper gave Tony a long slow kiss. “Thank you. I appreciate the thought very, very much.”

She raked her fingers through the soft hair at the base of his neck. “Maybe next time we can cook breakfast together.” And hopefully teach him how to make a pancake with less salt than French fries.

“Cook together or cook together?” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Yes.”

#pepperonygiftexchange #tony stark #pepperony fic #pepper potts #pepperony

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vampcubus · 3 years

Text

Crazy

Momotaro Fujiwara x Reader

A/N: Momo is my original character~ you can read more about him under #my OCs #momo #momotaro fujiwara tags on my blog ☺️💜 I’m thinking of making a part two eventually.

Song used is Crazy by KidneyThieves

Warnings: Angst, drinking/alcohol, hurt/comfort, slight unresolved angst, Momo being Momo.

Words: 1.4k+

. . .

You didn’t suspect anything was out of the ordinary at first, not perturbed by the booming music coming from Fujiwara’s dorm. Momo, you corrected yourself, remembering his distaste for his last name. So as if it were any other evening you passed his door to retire to your own room. That was until you smelt something most certainly out of the ordinary.

A mixture of salt and fruit loops wafted from underneath the door, undoubtedly momo’s scent, but tainted.

He was crying.

You knit your brows and pursed your lips, unsure of going in would be wise. Your lemur classmate had proven to be rather intolerant when it came to being offered help. Resigned, you turn away from his door as if to leave, only to stop again when the slightest whimper wiggles its way through the lyrics of the song.

It felt wrong to leave the poor thing to his misery, even if he ended up kicking you out, it smelled like he needed someone.

Doubting he’d hear you knock, you simply let yourself in. His dorm was pinker than you were expecting: rugs, curtains, and fuzzy pink feather boas hung from the exposed rafters. Makeup of all kinds littered his dresser. Band posters and haphazardly-placed Polaroids sticky-tacked to the walls in stark contrast to the explosion of pink.

It was very… Barbie.

Curled up in a tight ball on the bed, half-tangled in a fluffy hot pink duvet is Momo. It seems he hasn’t noticed you yet, continuing to sob into his knees. His striped tail was spiked and angular with stress. The smell of sea-salt and regret gets ever stronger as you approach the shaking boy, as you take in more of your surroundings you catch a few of the lyrics of the song playing.

Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely

I’m crazy, crazy for feeling so blue.

The fairy lights reflect off of something in the corner of your eye and your head flicks to the side to see a few empty bottles of… rum? Momotaro drinks?

I knew, you'd love me as long as you wanted

And someday, you'd leave me for somebody new

You could see he had an arm wrapped around his stomach, no doubt feeling the repercussions of drinking so heavily. A part of you wants to leave him there to deal with his own problems, it was his choice to drink. But again something stops you. He smelled so sad, and your quirk had yet to lie to you.

Worry, why do I let myself worry?

And I'm wondering, what in the world should I do?

You reach out and shut off the radio, the dark music halting, as well as Momo’s choked sobs. There’s a moment of processing, he’s frozen, before his body jumps into fight or flight mode and he leaps from the mattress into the rafters. He stares down at you with wide golden eyes, hair tousled, leaving both eyes on display as his expression changes from fright to confusion.

“What the hell are you doing in here?!” He hisses, tail angrily swishing from side to side, cheeks turning pink.

“I- uh…” you stumbled over your words, suddenly unsure what to say. You’d just been caught in someone else’s dorm snooping around. “You were- I smelt you crying and I- wanted to make sure you were okay.”

That’s right, you were the girl with the scent quirk. Something about smelling emotions, tracking and some shit. Something shifted in those golden eyes of his, something softer. But Momo’s defenses were still in full effect.

“Well, I’m fine. Now get out!” His voice cracks, and you notice. Because you’ve always noticed, you realize. Always noticed something broken in him, even when he paid you no mind, your eyes always strayed to him in class.

He was an untamable ball of energy and chaos, wreaking havoc wherever he went. Collectively hated by most of the class, it’s no wonder he has few friends. He refuses compassion, and few have the patience to spend their time chipping away at his walls. He bent over backwards for no one, begged no one, and changed for no one. Perhaps that’s what drew you to him. The fact that he was unapologetically himself no matter what anyone thought.

Still, it had to be lonely.

You’re brought back to the present when the rafters creak under Momo’s weight; he’s moving. Further away, you gather.

“You’ve been drinking, and crying. I don’t think that means you’re okay.” You gesture to the growing pile of rum bottles, the smell of alcohol still lingering on his shaking breaths. “I’m here for you, Momo.”

“Leave, just like everyone else does.” Momo slurs, finally dropping down from the rafters onto a shaggy zebra rug. His eyes have hardened again, this time with enough contempt to force a gasp from you. “Don’t pretend to care about me, don’t pretend you want anything to do with me just to satiate some sick sense of chivalry you have. I am fine, just the way I am, and nothing you say can change me.”

His words are like venom, eyes piercing and cold, his clawed hand curls around the neck of a new bottle and flicks off the cork.

You step forward, gripping the bottle before he can touch the lip of it to his mouth and yank it from his dark hand. It slips from your hand but doesn't shatter, instead pouring out onto the polished wooden floorboards. Momo hisses harshly, teeth bared as he prepares to tear you a new one for being wasteful but it’s cut short when your lips meet his. It’s far from gentle, full of clicking teeth, unpracticed and raw. And yet it steals the air from his lungs, weakens his knees as your hands hold his face.

Momotaro moans brokenly against your forceful lips, hands tugging and pulling, clinging to whatever of you he could reach.

You don’t realize why until he finally gets a good grip on your forearms and yanks you forwards, sending you both tumbling onto his bed. You situate yourself on top of him, wary not to put too much of your weight upon him as he yanks you back down to his lips. Making out with your classmate had not been your plan going into this, but the way he was clinging to you, chasing your lips every time you parted, whimpering as your fingers tangled in his curls had you leaning in for more and more of him. If he didn’t want to talk, you could comfort him this way for now.

When you finally pull away for breath, you’re both wheezing for oxygen, having thrown away your need to breathe in favor of sharing spit.

You roll onto your side and pull him to your chest, allowing him to wrap himself around you, his warm forehead pressed to your collarbone. Momo smells heavily of fruity cereal and expensive perfume, something you’re learning to appreciate as he relaxes in your arms, ears swiveling and twitching at every sound you make.

He doesn’t know what to say. The last thing he had expected to happen when he told you to leave was to be kissed, and now held like a child after a meltdown. He was embarrassed, confused, and now very aroused.

“What’s your goal here, L/N?” Momo rasps, cringing at the burning kickback of the rum in his throat.

“I’m sorry?” You blinked, caught off guard.

His throat contracted. He hoped to god he wouldn’t throw up. The churning in his stomach was making him nervous.

“Are you here to fuck me or patronize me?” Momo asks, focusing on calming his belly. He wasn’t a lightweight, but he’d had a lot to drink and he wasn’t sure if his teen body was going to hold it in.

His bluntness lights a fire behind your cheeks and you stutter, your mouth going dry. Momotaro certainly didn’t beat around the bush, and you don’t know if you’re thankful or embarrassed by it. You steel your nerves, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his forehead before burning your nose in his hair.

“Neither; you’re drunk as hell and having a breakdown. I’m here to support you, and watch you in case you hurt yourself.”

“Lame.” Momotaro huffs, squirming away from you and turning his back on you, clearly annoyed. But he doesn’t protest when you shift closer and spoon him in your arms. “And here I thought you might be fun. But you’re boring, just like everyone else in this shithole.”

#momotaro fujiwara #momotaro fujiwara x reader #momo x reader #momotaro x reader #oc x reader #bnha oc x reader #mha oc x reader #angst #tw: drinking #my ocs #oc fanfiction #bnha #mha #lemur quirk

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seriouslyhooked · 3 years

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Feels Like This (Part 13)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! I am so excited to be back with this story after the month I spent away, and I find it so wild that in that past month so much happened with royals in the actual world. I wouldn’t say it inspired this chapter at all, but it was cathartic to write a story where the Prince and Princess get a much healthier, more healing reception. I know how many of you love this fic, and it definitely has a special place in my heart as well. It’s been so important to me that I do the ending of this story justice, and so it took a bit of time to get my thoughts organized. This is one of the final chapters, and I only anticipate one more actual story installment and then maybe, someday far off in the future, an epilogue or two. That being said, this is a long-awaited milestone for CS and I have attempted to infuse all of my usual cuteness and romance. I hope that you all enjoy, I would love to hear what you think, and thank you all so much for reading!

Gazing out upon the overlook as the sun rose over the tree line in the Montenarran morning, Killian was comforted once more by the vastness of the world and the beauty that danced before him. The light shone with a color and vibrancy he’d come to know and love, but this morning the air hummed with languid layers of anticipation. Maybe it was Killian’s excitement and nerves, but he didn’t think so. No, if anything the world seemed to shimmer today, a sign from above that the timing was right and that he was ready to take this next big step.

The next time I visit this place, I’ll have Emma by my side, he thought to himself, soaking in the comfort of such a plan.

This was on his list of places to share with his Swan, but he reasoned that he had all the time in the world for such gifts. Today, though, he was planning to make that assumption a reality. For finally, after nearly three days of being parted from his love, he was planning to propose, in a way befitting a woman of Emma’s caliber.

Instinctively, Killian’s hand moved to his pocket, drawing out a small black box which held a ring inside. The ring was beautiful and ornate, an overt and ostentatious display of love, but one with inherent meaning. This was the ring his grandfather had given his Gran, a ring forged for the purpose of real and lasting love. It was not exchanged at their wedding, but instead in a private ceremony the two of them shared some weeks later. Their wedding had been arranged, but still they’d found real love. This ring was a gift, however, given at the turning point where Killian’s grandfather knew that his love for his new Queen was more than mere arrangement – it was true and totally transformative.

“Your brother, as reigning monarch, has full claim to your grandfather and my wedding bands, and he will make good use of them with his Elsa, I am utterly assured,” Gran had claimed some weeks back when she stole Killian for a private moment. On that night, she was serious and sincere, most of her deeply playful nature tucked aside for a brief window of time. She glanced at her the matrimonial ring she still wore, years after the death of her dearly departed husband before looking back to Killian with conviction and calm. “The love between them grows each day, and is befitting of what me and your grandfather shared. But this ring I’m giving you, Killy… this ring is something else altogether. This is magic made metal. This is perfectly genuine affection forged into precious gems.”

“It is gorgeous, Gran,” Killian agreed when she presented the ring to him. “But I can’t take something like this from you. Not when it means so much.”

“That’s why you must have it, Killy. If your Grandfather were here, he would say the same. This ring bound us in life, but now we are bound through so much more.”

For the first time in years, likely since the death of his grandfather himself, Killian watched as tears trickled down his Gran’s face. It instantly pierced his heart, for this was a woman who always showed strength. Even when he was on deployment and gone for years on end, his Gran persevered. She may grow misty eyed or get choked up, but tears were a whole different story. Only the memory of her husband could prompt them, and Killian thought to himself not for the first time that she had been so strong for so long, going on without him.

“Our love is forever, living, thriving, singing its song for now and for always. I miss him, every day, every moment, I wish that he was here, but someday we will have each other again. And in the meantime, this ring deserves another union. It was made to be passed through generations. I will confess that I wondered if anyone should ever be worthy of it, if love like ours would find its way here again. But I needn’t have doubted. You and Emma are made for each other, and it would be my honor for Emma to wear this.”

Killian agreed whole heartedly with his Grandmother’s explanation, and he knew no more beautiful stone could be found the world over. This ring bore a remarkable yellow diamond, encircled with smaller stones of the same rare hue. The exact shade sparkled in the sunlight, but almost seemed dipped in the golden glow of a summer’s afternoon. It was pristine and poetic, warm and well beyond the pale, reminding Killian of the highlights in Emma’s hair and the lilt of her laughter. Her joy was precious, more precious than any stone, but as he gazed upon the rock, it felt quintessentially designed for his Swan. It was happy and bright, bold and beautiful, and he knew, despite its flair and size, that Emma would love it.

The only thing left to do is ask her.

The thought breathed new life into Killian, even more so than the Montenarran morning, and he walked back through the forest paths towards the palace once more, energized and ready for the day ahead. He had everything planned and had been working on this for some time. There were many moving pieces, but he’d squared them all away. In the end he would see to it that this was perfect, for that was exactly what his Swan deserved.

Arriving at the palace just after the sunrise, Killian moved with purpose and precision. He had only a little bit of time, and much to accomplish.

“The last of the parcels have been delivered, Your Grace,” one attendant announced as Killian walked through the palace doors. “The bulk of them are here, as you see, though some are in the green house for obvious reasons.”

“Excellent, Jacque. Thank you.”

“I beg your pardon, Sir, it’s just… are you certain you don’t need help arranging things? It’s a significant amount of work here. The staff is happy to assist.”

“I appreciate that offer, Jacque, but I’ve got things well in hand. I’ve been planning this for some time.”

A thoughtful smile appeared at the older man’s face, one that broke the traditional polite protocol and spoke to how long he had known Killian and the royal family. “Of course, Sir. Well, in that case, best of luck.”

Killian took the well wishes to heart, knowing he had a massive task before him. Perhaps he could have given himself more time to bring all of these pieces together, but to him, it already felt like too much time had been wasted. He was more than ready for this next step with Emma, and after three days spent apart, not seeing each other in person, or sharing much more than a few texts and facetimes, he was particularly desirous to see this through. He had been strategizing on how to get this right for quite a while, and by now he knew each assignment down to the letter.

“I assume that your dismissal of Jacques offer goes for us as well?”

Killian glanced up, finding his mother on the stairwell. From here she was stately and elegant, a poised dowager Queen with refinement and grace, but as she descended, she became more herself, and by the time she was in front of Killian, taking his hand in hers, she was no more and no less than a wonderful mother. His greatest support for many years, and someone who he knew would give anything she could to make this moment special.

“It does, at least for this. But with the children arriving in a few hours’ time -,”

“Not to worry on that front,” his mother said cheerily, her own happiness at the thought of all the Institute’s residents coming to the palace for a special premiere outing. “Your Grandmother and I have all in hand, and Liam and Elsa are set to help us. It’ll be a day to remember.”

“Good,” Killian said, looking around and finding his Gran already in full form, instructing the staff as to the desires she had for the outdoor space. Through the glass of the palace’s wall of windows, her words were muddled, but the humor was clear as day. This woman, frail and aged from outward appearance, was a firecracker, ruling over the days designs with an iron fist. “Surprising that Liam is giving Gran such a wide berth.”

“Well how could he not? He’s yet to come down for the day. Hard to give orders from a distance.”

Killian let out a whistle, and laughed as his mother swatted his arm and ‘tutted’ his boyish actions. Knowing when enough was enough, he left unsaid the clear reason that his brother would choose to stay abed so late in the morning. Killian would stake his life on the fact that a certain guest was here within the palace, and that she likely made a visit of the overnight variety.

“What are the chances that Gran doesn’t know?” Killian asked and his mother shook her head.

“Zero.”

“And the likelihood that she will say something?”

“That’s still to be determined.” Killian was shocked at his mother’s genuine opinion. He, for one, thought it undoubtable that Gran would make mention of this moment, gleefully commenting on the need for royal heirs or some such outlandish claim. “Eleanor is direct and prone to speaking her mind, but she is also strategic. If the calculated risk of such a comment is too high, she will deny herself. She would never do anything to jeopardize your brother’s prospects.”

“You really think a smart comment from an old woman is enough to keep them apart?” Killian asked, thinking back on the few weeks that Liam and Elsa had shared since finding each other again. They had been as close to inseparable as the schedule of a King would allow. It was clear that they were both entirely invested, so much so that a royal announcement would be made in the coming days announcing their relationship.

“Not for a second.”

“So, if you know that, and I know that… surely Gran must know that.”

At that exact moment a maid was walking back into the house, opening the glass doors. From the outside they could hear his grandmother calling out to Liam and to Elsa, who had been discovered somewhere in the backyard. They no doubt were trying to be more discrete, but Gran seemed to have no interest in allowing them that privacy.

“Oh Lord, it’s time,” Meera said with a mix of worry and also amusement. Her eyes were alight with the humor of the moment, but also the very real awkwardness that may soon transpire. “I best get out there and spare them from what I can.”

Killian nodded, but wasn’t ready for the impact of his mother’s arms around him squeezing tight. It was not in any way part of the royal protocol, but his family never paid much mind to that. Still, this was a big hug, one that was obviously filled with tremendous meaning.

“I’m so proud of you, my darling. You’ll give her everything she deserves, and the two of you will be happy. So wonderfully, beautifully happy.”

“Thanks, Mum. Love you,” he whispered, accepting her soft kiss on his cheek and her shared words of love in kind before she dashed off to help his elder brother. A Queen should never move so quickly, but then again, Gran could do quite a bit of damage in the seconds it would take to get from here to there. For his part, Killian only chuckled to himself before heading to the side of the palace towards the gardens for the day.

The next few hours were defined by attention to detail and purposeful precision. Before meeting Emma, Killian could safely say he never imagined the lengths and planning required for a proper proposal. The idea was so intangible, so unnecessary in his estimations, that he never dwelled on even the possibility. It seemed unlikely that his heart would ever be touched in that way. He assumed he’d go through life a bachelor, or worse yet, that he’d cave to eventual pressure and say yes to something arranged and designed without feeling or passion. Luckily for him he had escaped such a fate, and instead had been steered through the grace of all things good towards a woman who was far and away the most remarkable he’d ever met.

Emma was rare and extraordinary. He had known it from their first meeting, and he continued to hold onto this truth every day they were together. There was never a moment when he didn’t realize his good fortune, or when he took her presence in his life for granted. Emma had revived him. She anchored him into the goodness of the world, and she showed him what could be. She expanded his horizons, even brought with her a son, another key part of a growing family, and by her side, Killian felt like he was capable of anything.

He only hoped that the elements he’d gathered today would translate as he imagined they could. This was a memory in the making that could only be shared once. Killian wanted to be sure that it was what Emma wanted and deserved. Luckily, he’d had help and more than a little bit of intel, mostly provided by Henry and from a few other insiders who knew Emma best of all.

“Are all systems a go, Captain?”

As if he’d conjured Henry with the grateful thought of all the boy had done for him, he turned now to find Emma’s son in the garden. Killian watched as the lad took in their surroundings, his eyes growing wide, and his whispered ‘this is so cool’ a welcome sign that Killian’s efforts had not been for nothing. He stood from where he’d been bent down, tidying up the last of his efforts, and when he gazed upon it himself, he had to say he was happy with the outcome.

“Aye, Lieutenant. All the necessary components are accounted for.”

“Good. She’s going to lose it. In a good way though,” Henry said with a smile which burned bright.

“Is everyone arrived then?” Killian asked and Henry shook his head.

“Soon, but not just yet. Anna and I have been here for a while now. Gran needed help with the game set up, but I asked if I could see you first.”

The look of wonder and happiness that had clung to Henry since arriving colored to something a bit more pensive. The shift gave Killian some pause for the first time all day. “Everything all right, lad?”

“Everything’s great, I just – well I was wondering – I mean if Mom says yes – or rather when she says yes, because she’ll totally say yes, it’s just that, well I – I was wondering…”

“No need to be worried, Henry,” Killian said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Whatever you have to ask me, I’m here to help. You have my word I will make it right.”

“I know. And you’ll love Mom forever, right?”

“Aye, lad. Forever and then some.”

“And you love me too,” Killian’s heart clenched as he automatically nodded.

“Yes, Henry. I love you both, undoubtedly.”

“And we’re going to be a family.”

Killian didn’t know what to say. Down to his bones he knew that they would be. He was confident in this union between him and Emma. They had made promises already, declarations of love. He would give anything to be her husband, and he knew that someday he would be, but to say it aloud to her son when Emma herself hadn’t had a chance to even be asked was something else entirely. In the end, he decided to just go with his gut.

“In my heart, we already are.” Henry beamed up at him, the worry of the moment melting away. Still, Killian never imagined what he’d say next.

“Well then I was hoping that maybe, when you and Mom are married, maybe I could call you Dad?”

Killian was overwhelmed with the request. It was something he had wished for, but didn’t want to press. He knew Henry had no memories of his biological father, but he never wanted to assume. It was a massive move for a young man to ask such a question, but Killian’s answer to the query was instant and heartfelt.

“I would be honored, lad.”

“Cool,” Henry said happily, brimming with the excitement he’d had since Killian first told him about his plan to propose to Emma.

Henry moved forward, hugging Killian with the affection of an earnest hearted ten-year-old, and Killian savored it, knowing he would always see Henry as his son. He may not be his blood, but he lay claim to a large piece of Killian’s heart. He silently swore to always do right by Henry. To protect him and to teach him what he could. But mostly he would support him, and show love to Henry and his mother all the days of his life. Before Killian could speak to more of that, the sound of busses pulling up, and happy children streaming onto palace grounds wafted through the air. The time had come. This was the moment.

“You know the plan, son?” Killian asked, the word slipping off his tongue so easily, and bringing real joy to Henry’s eyes.

“Aye, aye, Captain. I’ll have Mom to you in five minutes. You can time me.”

Killian might have laughed at the fervor and excitement Henry shared, but unfortunately, five minutes waiting in a moment like this felt like a lifetime away. The only thing that got him through were the last-minute adjustments, and the journey that was needed from where he was, to where they’d start their memorable afternoon. Finally, the moment came where Killian was waiting at the start of the hedgerow, even further from the festivities and he could hear the woman he loved, unaware of his being here.

“Henry, seriously, what’s going on? The party’s only just starting. We have time for a tour later. We can go with the others.”

“Trust me Mom, this can’t wait.”

“What is it Henwy?” a tiny voice Killian would know anywhere asked. Cecelia was with them, another sign from above that his plans were moving the way he wanted.

“Something magical,” Henry said and Killian could hear the sharp trill of an excited little girl.

“Like fairies?”

“Just wait, you’ll see.”

“Something magical, huh?” Emma parroted, but at that moment they all stepped into view.

Three days may be but a blip in time to some, but to Killian it had felt like an eternity. The peace he now experienced at seeing his Swan again was profound, and somehow she was even more stunning than when he’d left her. The day’s light shone in her hair and in her smile. She was gorgeous and relaxed, dressed in a delicate pink sun dress designed to tease and torment. Her radiance outshone every flower in this garden, and in the moments before she saw him, he soaked in the sight of her. God she was beautiful, too beautiful to properly behold. His heart skipped and his muscles tightened, and then her eyes landed on him and he was whole. The world was righted once more, and all because Emma saw him and felt the same pull he felt emanating from his chest. The surprise in her eyes was evident, followed immediately by relief, and joy, and love, and all of it was too sweet a call to resist. He moved towards her and the children, sending up one last prayer in this critical moment.

Please let her be mine. I swear I’ll deserve her. Whatever it takes. For I am hers, body and soul, and I always will be.

………………

God he’s gorgeous, Emma thought instinctively upon finding Killian at the far end of the garden hedge. That thought was followed closely by, Wait, what is he doing here?

“Killy!” Cecelia cried out happily, letting go of Emma and Henry’s hands and sprinting towards him. Emma watched as Killian crouched down, accepting the hug from the little girl who effortlessly stole their hearts. He closed his eyes momentarily, soaking in the moment, and then he pulled back and pushed some of her wayward curls from Cecelia’s eyes, smiling at her with genuine affection.

“Good morning, little love. How are you finding the palace?” Emma’s heart clenched in her chest in the best way. He was just so sweet with her. He always had been.

“It’s so so good,” Cecelia replied, bringing a laugh out of all of them.

At the little girl’s enthusiastic endorsement, Killian thanked Cecelia and then stood once more, looking at Emma with those captivating blue eyes and that charming smile that always took her breath away. She was still trying to fathom his presence here. They had spent the last few days apart, days she found so much more difficult to manage than she expected, but he wasn’t set to return for a few more days. Liam had sent him on state business. She didn’t press for details, assuming it was confidential, but now, she was curious as to this wonderful turn of events. Before she could ask though, he walked over to her, taking her into his arms and kissing her surely. She leaned into this embrace, loathed to let him go, but he seemed to remember they were in the presence of little eyes. It was a fleeting kiss, but still invigorating all the same.

“I don’t understand. You’re supposed to be away the rest of the week.”

“I hope you’ll forgive my brother for that white lie,” Killian said, his hand coming up to scratch at his ear in that subtle show of bashfulness she’d witnessed a time or two. “If you’ll recall I never actually confirmed an itinerary, having sworn never to lie to you again.”

“So, you weren’t on a… huh, let’s see, how did Liam put it? A ‘mission for the future of the nation’ then?”

“Not exactly. But then again, in some ways, that’s exactly where I was. Do you trust me, love?”

Emma nodded, and watched as his smile grew warmer. She knew that it meant to him to have her trust, but in her eyes, he had earned it ten times over. Killian was a good man – the best man she knew – and he made her feel safe. Of course she trusted him. She had never trusted anyone this much before.

“In that case, I’ve some things to show you. Henry, you’ll be sure to hold down the fort in the meantime?”

Emma looked over to her son, and only now realized that this was all planned somehow. Her boy looked pleased as punch, and even sent a salute Killian’s way. “Yes sir. And Cecelia will help, wont’ you Ceci?” The little girl nodded, joyously, thrilled at the prospect of helping. “We’ll see you both soon.”

Killian nodded, leading Emma in the direction of the garden. The further they moved into the hedgerow, the quieter it became, until the only songs around them were those of birds and breeze. Emma was amazed at all of this, but she was also still wrapped up in his return. It felt so good to be back with her hand in his, the glow of his presence enveloping her. She’d never missed someone like she had the past few days, never ached this way to be reunited with someone. It was a testament to all she felt for him and how much she’d come to love him. Quietly she stopped walking, pulling Killian’s attention. With a quick glance behind them, she saw no one had followed. They were totally alone and so she made her move. Pulling him down for another kiss, she said a proper hello, and shivered in delight at his reaction.

His hands were on her, seemingly everywhere, holding her close as they tasted each other. She felt his soft dark hair between her fingers, where she ran them through by the nape of his neck. She arched in closer, feeling the friction of their bodies together, and sighing in pleasure when they pulled apart. It couldn’t go further than that, but Emma felt more secure having shown him even in a small way how happy she was to see him.

“Hell of a welcome home, love,” he growled out, words low and throaty from his own swirling emotion. “If leaving wasn’t torture in itself, I’d consider more trips just for this.”

“No need to leave for these,” she whispered to him, leaning in for another kiss but then nipping him gently instead and stepping back out of his grasp. She smiled at his evident frustration, and laughed when he groaned in defeat. He knew he was had, but from the way he pulled her back into his arms, running his hand along the small of her back and looking at her adoringly, he didn’t seem to mind.

“You are a marvel, love. Have I mentioned that yet?”

“Maybe once or twice,” she teased, looking back to where they’d been walking and giving him silent permission to lead to their destination once more. “It’s beautiful out here.”

Beautiful was an understatement. In truth, Emma had never seen such intricate floral designs or such an array of colors and flower species. She had to imagine it was more than a palace garden. This had to be one of the most beautiful botanical spaces in all of Europe.

“Much of that is my mother’s doing. Her passion project, so to speak. She brought us out here when we were boys. Showed us bits and bobs. But this has always been hallowed grounds. Special, and perhaps, as Henry hinted, a little magical as well.”

Emma was poised to reply, but at that moment they turned a corner and things changed. They were still in a garden, but this time – oh lord it was difficult to describe. Magnificent was the first word that came to mind, and ethereal came soon after. For where there were blossoms and buds before, now there even more, hanging from pergolas above and winding through ivy vines on every hedge. Some were clearly naturally placed, but Emma noticed pieces woven into this area that she’d seen before, half a world away.

“Windchimes,” she murmured, looking at the gorgeous displays that reminded her of home.

There was a storefront, totally discrete from the street view and far off of the beaten path, deep in the heart of Chinatown, that she and Henry had found when he was younger. It was filled with artisan chimes and motifs and mobiles made from natural items and glass and more. The owners were amazing and known in crafting circles around the globe. The first day Emma and Henry visited taking refuge from a sudden winter chill, the couple who owned the store had taken the time to walk her son through their work. They’d then spent hours in the studio, and though Emma had very little by way of money for a purchase, they’d showed her and Henry nothing but the utmost kindness. She’d always found the pieces beautiful, comprised of shells and flecks of crystal or silver and gold, swirled into constellations that evoked a night sky or sense of wonder.

Over the years she and Henry returned to the studio many times, and even bought a few pieces when she could save enough to treat herself to something precious. There was so much beauty crafted in each piece. Emma always found herself wanting more, and she loved their trips back over and over again. The style of this artwork was one of a kind. Emma had never seen other pieces like these, but here, in this patch of the garden, there had to be a hundred intricate, delicate, interrelated art pieces dancing in the wind.

“How is this possible?”

“Henry may have mentioned something. Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous. God, the time it must have taken to put this all together…”

“Was time well spent, believe me, love.” Emma looked to him and she could have sworn from the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice that he was the one who had done this. But that was crazy. How could he have possibly had time for all this?

“But how did it all even get here?”

“I brought it.”

“You brought it?” Emma asked, stunned, her fingertips grazing the smoothed lines of one art piece dripping in sea glass. “You were in New York.”

“Aye.”

“But why?”

“Patience, love. There’s more to see.”

Emma had no idea how there could possibly be more, but she tucked her arm through Killian’s and walked with him to the next section of gardens. Here there was a sudden burst of purples and whites, and a scent she’d been missing without even realizing it. Lilacs, but none of them in season. Oh God, look at all of them.

“Killian,” she whispered, looking at what must have been thousands of bouquets of her favorite flower. It was unbelievable, but it was real, and she moved forward, seeing them all set up and displayed prominently in the midst of a garden with white roses. It was gorgeous and surreal. And now she was utterly dazed and more than a little confused.

“You and Henry are well known at the Brooklyn gardens love, as I’m sure you are well aware. I had it on good authority from a woman named Ella that lilacs are your particular favorite.”

“These can’t all be from there,” Emma said and Killian shook his head.

“No, these are admittedly sourced from a few specialty purveyors across the continent. But this,” he pulled out a polaroid of a small lilac tree that was recently planted. Looking at the surroundings, Emma realized that was outside Killian’s home here in Montenarro. “This is directly from the gardens. The same family and strain, all the way from New York.”

Emma was too shocked to speak, and felt the tears welling in her eyes. He had done so much for her, and she knew it was for one reason. He wanted to bring part of her home, part of a place that meant so much to Henry and her, here to his home. It was so thoughtful she felt tongue tied. What could she say? This was all so much.

Unbelievably there was even more, and over the next few minutes he took her through three more break away gardens, each filled with other staples of her one-time home. Food and culture and memories and more. This man had managed to find all of the best parts of her time in New York and he had brought them here. Some of them were things completely out of the realm of possibility.

“I can’t believe you found this,” Emma said, holding onto a years-old piece of construction paper that had been forgotten to time.

This picture was one of so many projects that her son had made in life, but Emma cherished the memories that went with it. Another example of the city’s serendipity, this painting chronicled a day of adventure for Emma and Henry. They’d wandered all through the city, and ended up in Queens for a special summer program for kids. She was always looking for magic moments for Henry, especially ones designed for a budgeting single Mom, and this one had delivered. There were story times and games, crafts and activities, and Henry had been thrilled. He made this picture of the two of them, and though it looked nothing like Emma, it had captured her heart. It also caught the eye of the librarians working that day and they’d selected it to put on the wall in the Children’s wing. Henry was oh so proud, his four-year-old heart filled with joy at getting to hang his art somewhere aside from their refrigerator door. It meant something to Emma, another example of her doing her best by her boy, and giving him all that she’d never had.

“There was a picture of you and Henry and this particular masterpiece in the Saturday Times.”

“Okay now how could you possibly know that?”

“Your neighbor, Mrs. Hubbard. She was very forthcoming, and she’d saved the article. Has it framed and everything.”

“You spoke to Mrs. H?” Emma asked completely bewildered, and Killian nodded. “And the library had it all this time?”

“Aye. In the archives. Nothing a few strategically planned favors couldn’t procure.”

“I don’t deserve this,” Emma said, letting the tears finally fall. This was all too much, but she was immediately comforted by the feel of Killian’s strong arms. His hand came to cup her cheek, his thumb wiping some of the tears as he shook his head, his eyes full of earnest feeling and emotion.

“That’s where you’re wrong, love. You deserve every good thing the world over. I know it’s presumptuous for a man like me to ask for such a treasure, but I swear to you I’ll spend my life giving everything I can.”

“I already have everything. I have you, and Henry,” Emma said. “This is beautiful, but it’s nothing to you.”

Killian hummed out a sigh of contentment, but where Emma expected a kiss, she watched instead as he pulled back, reaching for something in his pocket. “I was hoping you’d feel this way. Makes this next part a bit less nerve wracking.”

In a smooth gesture, he pulled out a small black box and lowered to the ground. Watching Killian drop down to one knee here in the gardens, Emma felt totally adrift from all cares of the world. She was stunned and yet deeply aware that this had all been a long time coming. There was no doubt in her heart that she loved Killian, and she held no fear over taking this next step. This man had shown her for months that he genuinely cared for her and her son. He would move mountains for them, if only for a possibility of their happiness. He was selfless and loyal and true, and he made her brave, emboldening her to believe that the risk was worth it. Love was worth it. Still, it was shocking, to be adored so deeply, and to know that someone truly felt the world began and ended with her.

“Emma, I realize that this is perhaps soon by some standards, but believe me when I say that I have been aching to ask you this question since the moment we met.”

More tears formed in her eyes, thinking back on that day. Her world had truly shifted in the span of one morning. There was a time before Killian, before romantic love that ever made her hopeful, and then there was more. It all started at the center, but it built well beyond those four walls. Knowing what she did now, she had to call their encounter what it had been – love at first sight. Maybe she hadn’t admitted it then, and surely she hadn’t said it aloud, but that is what transpired. She took one look at this man, this extraordinary, incredible man, and she was hooked, plain and simple.

“You amazed me then, that first day at the Institute. I didn’t realize anyone like you could truly be real, or that I was capable of forming an attachment with such strength. I had seen too much, I reasoned, knew the darkness of the world in ways that may leave me lacking for the rest of my days. I thought such chances at something halfway near normal were beyond me, but those first sparks between us proved me wrong. I was totally ensnared, caught in a web you couldn’t help for making, and still, that immediate response can’t compare to all I feel now. Knowing you – loving you – I am more certain each and every day that you hold my heart in your hand. I am yours, Emma. I have been yours, and I will remain yours all the days of my life.”

There was absolutely no chance at stopping from crying now, but the sensation was one of happiness. She was actually living a fairytale. Her, the once lost girl who never had a nickel to her name, or a friend to keep her going. She had survived the cruelest affairs of the heart. She had been so terribly and tragically alone, but she persisted, and she learned, through the grace of her son, and the courage of her convictions, to live. Now with Killian she was starting anew, building up the small life she’d shared with Henry into something much bigger. To say she was exited at the prospect was an understatement.

“Emma Swan, will you -,”

“I want to adopt Cecelia!” Emma said abruptly, blurting out a seemingly unrelated fact in the middle of what had been the most beautiful proposal. She was mortified, but only for a moment. Because the smile on Killian’s face calmed the storm inside her.

“Ah, right. You see, I had anticipated that, though in the interest of full disclosure I envisioned this part of the conversation after your reply to the proposal. Regardless, I offer you this, love.”

Emma watched as he juggled the ring and instinctively she took it, holding the box and sparing another glance at the absolutely beautiful band. Her fingers itched to put it on now, but she knew it would be so much better to let Killian do the honors. She then watched in amazement as he pulled out a series of papers from inside his jacket. He opened the file containing them all and showed her an application for adoption. The child in question was Cecelia, and the forms listed both Emma and Killian as petitioning guardians. Now she was completely overwhelmed. He knew every single part of her. Every hope. Every dream. He was perfect.

“Family is so much more than blood, Swan, as we both know, and I think we’ve known for sometimes that Cecelia will always be our princess.”

“Yes,” Emma whispered. Yes to everything, yes to all of it.

“I’ve also spoken to Henry, not intentionally per se, wanting to speak with you first, but it would mean the world to adopt him as well. I don’t know how you’d feel about that, but I-,”

“Yes,” she said again, this time with even more conviction.

“Yes?” he asked with a hopeful grin and she nodded. “Well in that case. May I, love?”

She handed him the papers which he put down beside them with care. Emma watched as he took the ring box back from her other hand. He settled down on bended knee again, preparing himself for another attempt at asking her to marry him. It took everything in her to bite her tongue and let him actually get the request out.

“Emma Swan, love of my life, light of my spirit, and queen of my heart, will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

“Yes.”

Everything from there went quickly as he slipped the ring on her finger, tossing the box without care to the group. Killian was up at full height in mere moments, pulling her in for a scorching kiss and Emma was complete. It may not have been a totally according to plan proposal, but Emma believed what they had was even better, because it was real and true and filled with so much love. She could think of no better way to start a beautiful forever, and when they pulled back, resting their foreheads against each other and soaking in the moment, Emma let out a sigh of sheer relief. This was what they meant when they said happily ever after, and it was so very worth the wait.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy,” Emma murmured aloud.

“Neither have I,” an emotional voice said – only it wasn’t Killian. The voice continued. “Truly beautiful.”

“Gran,” Killian muttered shaking his head. Emma bit her lip and covered her mouth. They had absolutely just been caught out here, but when they both turned to see their unexpected audience, consisting of Killian’s family, Elsa and Anna, and Henry and Cecelia, a different person outside of all the rest, was revealed to be the culprit.

“You take that back, Killian, for you know better than that,” Gran said, standing beside a dressed up and dazzling looking Mrs. Hubbard. Mr. Hubbard was there too, his hand on Henry’s shoulder and his leg being held onto by a very friendly Cecelia. Emma never expected to see her dear, sweet neighbors. Their appearance here in Montenarro left her floored.

“My new friends are a treat, believe me,” Gran continued, walking forward, and seemingly giving everyone else the silent permission to do the same. “But their spying skills need work. I would never speak through such a moment, nor rustle these hedges with quite so much gusto. Not to worry though, they’ll learn.”

Everyone descended in that moment to wish them all well, but the most important reactions came from Henry and from Cecelia. The happiness of both of these kids – their kids – gave Emma tremendous joy and satisfaction. She was also thrilled to share this with their blended family, and with the friends who had become such strong bonds in her new life. After much congratulations, everyone returned to the party, and an announcement was made. If Emma believed the reaction to be enthusiastic from her loved ones, it was even bolder from all of the children at the center. Indeed, the happiness and infectious sense of hope made for the best party any of them had ever been to, and created an afternoon like none she’d ever experienced.

Hours later, Emma was still reeling from the high, and loving the fact that she and Killian had stayed together all day. He’d never let her go after her saying yes, always beside her, supporting her, adoring her, and loving her endlessly. She was so happy with him, but as the day drew to a close, her spirits dampened slightly. In his usual form, Killian caught on immediately.

“What’s the matter, love?” he asked, sure that no one else was listening, even though they were still amidst the party.

“Nothing,” Emma said automatically, though that was only half true. “This is one of the best days of my life. It’s just… the waiting…”

“Aye, I’ve considered that too. But I think I’ve arrived at a workable solution.” Emma looked at him curiously. “I will submit for a special license from the crown. The King and I are on decent terms you see.”

“Decent, huh?” Emma teased, looking over at Liam and finding him swaying with Elsa on a makeshift dance floor. There wasn’t even any music playing, but to this happy couple, and to the children dancing nearby, that didn’t matter in the slightest.

“He’s been in better spirits of late, as you might imagine.”

“Seems to be going around.”

“Mmm,” Killian hummed out, running his hand along her cheek and looking at her with sincerity and bliss. “We can have everything arranged in a week. It’ll be quite the undertaking, but the staff is up to the challenge.”

“A week?” Emma said, not believing it. Surely it must take longer than that, but she loved the idea. In truth, she’d marry him right now if she could. “Can we really do that?”

“Just say the word, Emma.”

“Yes,” she said nodding. “It’s crazy. Actually it’s totally insane, but yes, please, yes.”

“As you wish,” he replied kissing her again under the party lights and lighting her aflame once more. “In the meantime, I’ve no wish to be apart. We should be together, love, as long as that’s what you want.”

“I do.”

“Everything’s ready. I’ve been working for weeks on it. The rooms for Henry, for Cecelia, all of it. It’s merely a matter of moving your things in, all of which can be done tonight.”

“You’re serious?” Emma asked and he nodded.

“A magistrate’s already granted temporary custody for Cecelia. You can take her home now while the process continues. Please, love, say you’ll all come home to me.”

Emma looked over to Henry and to Cecelia, who were dancing together on the floor. Emma watched as her son already took so well to his new sister, and as if she’d conjured his attention, Henry glanced her way. He waved, a sign that Emma returned. Drawing attention to them set Cecelia in motion, and soon the little girl was dragging Henry across the party. Soon enough they were back together, the four of them a new but undoubtedly permanent unit. Cecelia jumped into Killian’s arms, and Henry came to Emma’s side looking up with his knowing expression.

“What’s up, Mom?” he asked and Emma smiled, unable to resist pulling him and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“How would you feel about moving to Killian’s house -,”

“Our house,” Killian stressed and Emma chuckled.

“Sorry, our house, tonight?”

“That would be awesome!” Henry said excitedly. “Can we do that?”

“Aye.”

“And me too?” Cecelia asked hopefully.

“Yes, honey, you too,” Emma said, brushing a stray curl from Cecelia’s face. The kids made their feelings known. They were in, totally and completely. “Well I guess we have our answer then.”

“Aye, love. The best of answers, all around.”

And so, later that night, when the festivities of the day had ended, and the children all departed, Emma and Killian, Henry and Cecelia all headed home together, enjoying their first night in a place that would always be theirs. And though Emma knew they were in for a crazy week of planning and party design, and wedding wildness, she was truly joyful. For this was a life beyond her wildest dreams, and she knew, deep down to her core, that it was going to be breathtaking.

Post-Note: So… what did you think? Personally, I found it SO cathartic to write this scene. It’s been such a long time coming and I have pictured this outcome for Emma and for Killian even before writing the first word of this story. Almost a year ago to the day this story came to me, and my hope is to write out the final chapter by the one year anniversary in early May. Hopefully it won’t take quite so long, but please know that it has been a joy to write this and share with all of you. I hope this chapter and this fic have brought some brightness to your world and some magic to your moment. This has been an insane time, but I’ve been grateful to share it with all of you. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed, and I’d love to hear what your hopes for the end of this story are. Until next time, wishing you all well and healthy and safe! xE.

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onyourzeus · 4 years

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12:15 am | kyh

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: 12:15am pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you genre: fluff, small caps words: 2.4k

author’s note: extra fic for tonight, just all around fluffy bf!yonk getting a call from his drunk s/o in the middle of the night. do enjoy.

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

younghyun loves the grind. but if there’s anything else that he looks forward to during a hard and long day of working, it’s the feeling of coming home once he’s done. he makes sure to take off his shoes with as less noise as possible, knowing the fact that his roommates slash bandmates are enjoying their sleeping hours of peace and solitude.

with just a loose shirt and boxers on, he finally feels less restricted and more comfortable in his own skin. the urge to clean himself of sweat, and polluted air that had clung on him with a nice, hot shower is tempting— but the exhaustion in his heavy shoulders and drooping eyelids convince him otherwise.

he’ll hate himself for dirtying his sheets, but tomorrow is sunday which means it’s time to do his laundry, anyway.

tossing his used clothes in the hamper, he prepares his body to get swallowed by the softness of his comforter, and the warm void of his thick blankets. of course, before he passes out entirely tonight, he doesn’t forget to send you a text. the one important thing he shouldn’t miss out on.

really tired. gonna crash in 2 seconds. text you tmr, love you

usually, younghyun would wait until you respond because the many heart emojis that come his way act as his goodnight kiss while the two of you are apart. besides, you normally reply in an instant which is a habit he’s worried about, really, since you need some rest too.

he tries to fight the sleepiness away from his senses, but the more he sits on his bed, back hunched and ready to collapse, the less energy he has left to wait for your message. he frowns, suddenly wondering about your whereabouts. you always tell him first hand if you’re too busy to check your phone throughout the day, and younghyun appreciates the thoughtfulness. even if he couldn’t reply “okay” right away, the two of you have a shared sense of understanding as to how your kind of long distance relationship works by now.

sighing, he eventually puts his phone on the bedside table and plops himself in the covers. it feels really, really good to be in his own personal space now, and younghyun thinks he deserves to rest longer than normal tonight; it was a pretty productive day in the studio. he finished another collab with an artist he’s been meaning to contact for months, and he was glad it came to fruition with great success. he also managed to write a few arrangements for the band’s upcoming album, even if the group decided it was too early to work on it yet.

younghyun believes it’s never too early as long as inspiration is present. if he didn’t so much as write down possible lyrics or harmonies on a piece of paper every day, he’d slowly feel his motivation being sucked out of him. if he was being honest, that was one of his worst fears as an artist, so every day is work for him, it just depends on how much he wants to get done in a day.

as his thoughts fizzle out in his mind, his consciousness brings him to dreamland until a constant vibrating noise disrupts him from his end table. younghyun is about to pull the sheets over his head, thinking nothing of the sound but an annoying notification from something unimportant— but then he remembers you.

with his second guess being right, younghyun has a twinge of guilt in his throat for believing you were not worth it to get up from the coziness of his bed. rubbing his eyes to seem more awake, he picks up the call and greet you in a whisper.

“hi, baby, what’s up?” younghyun says, voice low and hoarse from multiple recordings in the studio.

“cheese,” you mumble on the other end, voice rather solid and awake which causes younghyun to perk up a bit.

“what was that?”

“cheeeeese, brian,” you slur, elongating the repeated word as well as saying it in a higher pitch. immediately, younghyun senses the somewhat incoherent mumble in your nevertheless pretty voice, and judging from the fact you unironically called him by his english name, there was only one explanation: you’re drunk.

he finds himself smiling as he answers, “are you home, babe?” he wasn’t angry about you drinking, he does remember you telling him a few days ago that you might go out with friends but you weren’t sure when. maybe tonight was the night and you just forgot to remind him; no big deal.

“i think so?” you hiccup, followed by a soft chuckle. younghyun’s heart soars at the sound, and it pains him at the same time that he couldn’t be there to hold and take care of you. he leans against the headboard, making himself more comfortable as he listens to you ramble on.

“all i know is that— burp— it was wendy’s birthday… or was it her cousin? cause she was there too, and i never met her before and— oh my god, i don’t even remember her name i’m such a bad new friend— whatever, anyway, it was someone’s celebration and we bar hopped to a lot of places and it became really sweaty and loud and at one point i had a flamingo shot in my hand and and—”

“hold up, flamingo? you mean flaming?” younghyun interjects, chuckling at your jumbled up story. he imagines you shaking your head as you whine at him for interrupting you. “no, nooooo. it was red and fiery and there was a lot of smoke and i’m sure it represented the beautiful, long-legged bird called flemings.”

this time, younghyun couldn’t stop himself from choking out a laugh, and in turn you huff from the other end, and refuse to continue further.

“i’m sorry, go on. please, i’m interested with what happened after you took this mysterious shot that starts with an f.”

“are you sure you won’t laugh?” he hears you quip in a tiny, slurring voice, and it his chest tightens at the thought of making you go through this drunken state alone. younghyun cards through his hair in frustration towards himself, realizing how much he misses you in the moment. he doesn’t want you to stop talking, god if he can only see your lips move in person—

“i promise, babe. so, what happened next?”

“if you say so,” you mutter indignantly, but proceed with the story even though you’re unsure of where it’s going. “um, actually. that was it. i think i took everyone’s flamingo shots in their hands and next thing i remember, wendy or her cousin or whoever it was tucked me in bed and now i’m in the kitchen eating cheese.”

the string of words you had uttered made younghyun feel three emotions in succession: one, impressed that you were able to down more than one shot while he’s not there to monitor you; two, relieved that you confirmed your safety inside your apartment; and three, plain confusion as to why you didn’t stay in bed and instead, eating what you say is cheese while on the call with him.

“can we turn on the videocall?” he asks gently, and you hesitate.

“i don’t look cute right now…”

“you’re always cute. please?” he tries to sound convincing, knowing that you do get insecure when your face is flushed red from the alcohol. even still, he doesn’t tire from complimenting you otherwise.

“okay,” you relent, and younghyun’s heart skips a beat anticipating the sight of you on his phone. he turns on his camera, and he’s appalled at what he sees: daar under eyes, no make up on, and a face that describes weariness to a T. in this case, it should be him who feels insecure looking the way he is, but he’d take the risk if it meant seeing your face.

“hello? is this thing on??” after a few seconds of lag, your screen cleared up and younghyun watches you poke the camera repeatedly. “bri, it’s so dark in here am i even alive right now?”

you never fail to lift his mood up during an exhausting day of activities— as your schedules collide against each other, and there would be less time for moments like right now, younghyun only asks for a few texts sent his way as reassurance that you’re still with him. you always comply, and sometimes younghyun doesn’t get to uphold his side of the commitment during the rare days that he just want to shut off the world.

still, he’ll wake up from a text with your name on it, and the hearts he missed the night before. and he feels whole, and ready to take on the world again.

so this time, younghyun wants to make you feel heard— and seen, as these days work seems to occupy more of his time and burden him with the pressure of exceeding his own expectations. you don’t like seeing him worry about how he’s doing in the industry, so younghyun does his best to appear cheerful and curious in front of you— or his phone, at least.

“yes, you’re very much alive right now, babe. are you really eating cheese at this hour?” he shouldn’t have asked. it was obvious the thing in your hand was, in fact, string cheese being eaten in the most ungodly fashion, but it’s you— and younghyun would rather watch you bite into it, cringing inwardly, instead of passing out with another day longing for your presence.

“let’s eat cheese together,” you suggest, shoving the half-bitten string cheese into the center of the camera as if it was a mic being handed over to younghyun. “do you want to eat cheese with me, bri?” you ask again, tone small but hopeful. you put your hand down, and younghyun finally has a full view of your face.

you had taken your makeup off, judging from the bare skin and slightly smeared lipstick on the side of your lips. your hair was splayed out down your shoulders, a combination of curly and straight strands framing your beautiful face. he surmises you used a curling iron this morning, imagining the frustration on your facial features as you try to make it work.

“briannnn, cheese?”

younghyun focuses on the present, and he notices the glimmer in your eyes amidst the only light coming on your end was his screen’s brightness. he shakes his head slowly which causes you to pout.

“no thank you, baby, you can have it all.”

“but i saved some for you, right here. you get the other half. just like you’re my other half. hehe, get it?”

“yes, baby, that’s very sweet and clever of you.”

“you should hire me as your lyrics… manager. maker? lyrics person? lyricist!” you grin widely after figuring out the right term, and take another bite off the string cheese.

“i think you’re doing a great job at being my girlfriend, though,” younghyun tells you, and it takes a few seconds for those words to process until he hears the eventual whine, and covering of your face with your free hand.

“babe.” no response.

“baaabe.” you mumble something he couldn’t hear. younghyun takes in how adorable you are, and doesn’t pester you for a minute. this bothers you, apparently, as you peek through your fingers and catch him doing one of his silly faces that corners you to laugh abruptly.

“not fair!! you know that works every time,” you whine in defeat, and younghyun can only smile proudly in response.

“you know,” you start off, and younghyun prepares himself for another stream of consciousness on your end before you continue, “even if we’re far away from each other, and that we can’t eat cheese together, you’re still the best boyfriend in the entire galaxy.”

if there’s anything else that younghyun loves apart from the feeling of coming home after work, it’s the feeling of being loved by you.

he waits for you to finish your string cheese, and you argue that you’d like to eat another one. but it was getting late, and younghyun didn’t want to look even more tired on call, so he urges that you two fall asleep while the call goes on.

as he wiggles back inside the covers, he watches you struggle to get your whole body in the comfort of your blanket. his hand holds on the phone as he readies himself to sleep sideways.

“stupid blanket,” you mutter in annoyance, deciding to take one leg out of the warm sheets and at last, feel content on your bed.”that’s better,” you sigh, eyes falling asleep before younghyun.

“comfortable?”

“not really.”

“oh, why not?” younghyun asks.

“you’re not here beside me.” and your answer breaks his heart.

younghyun is pretty good at consoling you with his words at times when you need it, but you beat him to it this time.

“it’s okay though, younghyun, i can get by like this for now. i know—” you yawn in between, “you’re working super hard for the next comeback— actually, you work no matter what project you’re doing, babe. you’re insane, i hope you know that.”

it was younghyun’s turn to blush, and hide his face in the pillow. the drowsiness is making him soft, and weak from denying the truth in your words. he can definitely agree with a lot of people in his life that he needs to take it slow some days. and when it comes from you, he then knows to take that advice seriously.

“i do know that, baby.”

“it’s not bad, though!!” you object, zooming in to your eyes as if to let him know you’re saying it as a good thing. younghyun chuckles again, lifting his face up so he can witness your goofy antics once more.

“i think it’s… really badass. you go younghyun,” you yawn again, dropping the phone as sleep attempts to befall upon you. “sorry, my hand was getting numb.”

“that’s okay, go to sleep now.”

“no, you.”

“that’s literally what we’re trying to do, babe.”

he hears you snicker, and with that he felt it was okay to lay his phone next to him, too. he probably wouldn’t see your face in the morning on the call anymore as his phone wasn’t fully charged at all. however, as he hears you quietly snoring on the other end gives him a sense of security, and the status of his dead phone battery doesn’t matter so much for now.

“i love you,” he whispers into the night, eyes closing in, smile taking him to dreams where he can hold you tight.

“love you more, younghyun.”

#day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 au #day6 x reader #young k imagines #young k scenarios #young k x reader #young k au #brian kang imagines #brian kang scenarios #kang younghyun imagines #kang younghyun scenarios #by:jiae

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frightfurtabby · 3 years

Text

Himikiyo Week 2021 Day 5: Anniversary Party

// Cute and fluffy, make-up smearing kissies, slow dancing, and awards... enjoy~

Word count: 1434

Links

AO3- https://archiveofourown.org/works/34196977

Amino- (coming soon)

I need to catch up on cross-posting to amino so I’ll be doing that too.

The anniversary party was an important occasion. All actors from the danganronpa franchise were coming together for this event. 10 years ago was the release of the first series starring Makoto Naegi as the protagonist, since then there have been 3 further series and a spin off that took place between the first 2, though it had aired afterward. And they were all gathered together.

There were already plans for another spin-off that was summer camp themed and would be finished later the next year. It was really big but sometimes there were years of waiting between new productions and that led to a lot being covered by tabloids and other media outlets. Korekiyo moved up to a small town in Aomori prefecture with Himiko to stay as quiet as possible, keeping in contact with certain people from among their castmates.

The couple were sitting together in a backstage private dressing room once again, Himiko taking time to brush Kiyo’s hair. Most of their outfits were already in place, a puffy purple dress for Himiko, her matching magic hat sat on the table in front of them.It was so pretty and only a little bit difficult to move around in at first before she was getting used to it. The anniversary celebrations included a dance in the ballroom and awards for the newest batch of fan popularity polls.

“Babe are you sure you want to go for that hat, I don’t know if it fits with the rest of what you’ve got going on.”

Kiyo was wearing a white button-up long sleeved blouse with a burgundy vest, a green coat over both and a long black skirt. Near Himiko’s hat was their own for this occasion, a black fedora which was what she was referring to in her comments..

“I personally think it looks nice.” Kiyo gave an exaggerated pout.

Touching up both their make-up was all the couple needed before they got to head out to the event proper. Kiyo hadn’t decided on lipstick before they had to go to avoid running late. They could do without that but not without eating, which they had to finish on the way out.

When she was finished brushing she helped gather their locks together and band it to make a ponytail.

She chuckled. “Of course you do, well since you insist. Here, have this one, I think this color will compliment everything nicely. Now come closer!” She grabs a nice dark blood red shade. Kiyo had used it plenty of times, including the year they dressed up as a vampire for Halloween, so it was a classic go-to.

Kiyo leaned in like she asked. Puckering their lips out to give her a more complete canvas for her to work with. However, before Himiko touched the tip of the lipstick onto their lips, Kiyo stopped for a moment.

“I wouldn’t want to smudge this so soon, so please give me a kiss?”

Himiko giggled. “Alright, okay. But first…” Her free hand extended and her pointer finger booped them right on the nose.

The former Ultimate Anthropologist feigned shock. “What did I deserve that for?”

“For being cute, ya silly goose.”

They were gearing up for a follow up joke but they were pulled in by the collar and smooched. They leaned into and savored it. Even if it did ruin the set-up, it was fine. Any time was a lovely time to smooch Himiko.

“Okay, now we can do it.” she chirped.

Kiyo re-assumed the proper position and reached out, gently caressing Himiko’s cheek. A deep look into her eyes. “Alright, go ahead.”

She reached up to hold them still with one hand and eased the lipstick close. Drawing it, focused as close as she can on the precision. Even though they had just kissed, she was tempted to ruin it again.

So she did.

They giggled as soon as she let them go. “God I’m so lucky wearing a mask is my trademark. I’m sure people would have a field day if they actually saw how smudged you always end up making this.”

“Yeah well, I’m lucky to have you.” She said, making cute faces in their direction.

Kiyo pulled their mask up and put the fedora on, taking Himiko’s hand as a way to get up out of the chair.

They turned and exited the door. Upon entering the hallway they met up with Shuichi and Rantaro, spending time catching up. Talking about how the cats were doing, how busy it was lately, more recent gigs they’d lent their talents to, that kind of thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon entering the ballroom, the couple noticed there were danganronpa themed decorations all over. A big banned reading “Happy 10th Anniversary'' went along the rafters. It was certainly doing its job of seeming like a mix between prom and a high school reunion.

At least this one was full of people both of them liked better than most people who’d been at either of their actual proms from back in the day. Even with personal problems here and there it was still more tolerable than that.

A slow waltz tune echoes around the ballroom. All the couples were paired up, most having stuck together pretty much the whole time up to this point regardless, but the Junko was making a big deal up on stage about how “If you’re not already, couple up and dance!”

Kiyo’s hand was around the back of Himiko’s head. They took time to pet her and look into her eyes as they performed slowly just like they had practiced. It felt nice and warm. Both could close their eyes for a bit and had a good amount of space to nuzzle up.

“I love you dear.”

“I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few dance tracks later, Junko Enoshima got up and did a little bit of MC’ing. “And now everyone, having a good time? Well, it’s time to announce the first batch of winners from the polls! And here to read those names is someone we all know and love. The mysterious…”

She started getting a head count of all the danganronpa alumni, dragging it on for comedic effect. “The mysterious 40-somethingth student that was lying hidden somewhere in this very building… Mukuro Ikusaba!”

The crowd of students clapped, Himiko and Kiyo included. As Mukuro took time to further introduce the concept, showing off the envelopes for good measure, the lovers had a small conversation.

“Do you think we’ll win anything this year?”

“I hope we do. I’m not sure though, since competition is very stiff in all categories.”

“It’d be really cute if we won the couples one” she smiled, holding their arm close. “We may not have won it yet, but there's always a chance.”

“I’ve seen a little bit of buzz online telling fans to vote for us. So we might pull it off.”

It came time, the third category: the cutest off-screen couple. The options were always more open, as there were very few canonical on-screen romances in the show. Mukuro cut open this envelope, like she had done the previous two.

The MC cleared her throat. “Ahem. The winners are… Shinguuji Korekiyo and Yumeno Himiko”

The V3 cast members hooted and hollered. The other 2 main series had just picked up 1 win each and usually SDR2 would sweep these anniversary award contests. Picking up a surprise win would hopefully be a sign.

Escorted by several classmates like they just scored the winning points in a sport together, Himiko and Kiyo went up, and had to make up a speech off the cuff. That’s how much of a last second blindside actually pulling it off was.

Himiko took her spot close to Kiyo’s side and they both stood in front of the mic. Kiyo gently taps it and clears their throat.

“Thank you all, I’m… surprised. I thought for sure it would be another year of us being passed up.” they said

She added “The fans really pulled through!” She raised her award and held it up to clink it with Kiyo’s. “I’m not sure what else to even say.”

“We are grateful for the nomination, and thank everyone who cast a vote.” Asked if they had anything more to say, Kiyo finished with “As difficult as some fans can be, it's always good to feel appreciated.”

Everyone went back down, further winners were to be announced. Neither cared much, but would support friends who could get it. For now all they wanted was to cuddle up together on the bleachers. The rest of the night was for relaxing.

#himikiyo #himikiyo week #himikko yumeno #korekiyo shinguji #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #fanfic #writing

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gloomyhearts · 3 years

Text

That's life || Steve Harrington

Chapter eight

November 10, 1983

Y/N's pov

"Dustin what's wrong?" He threw the door closed.

"Mike and Lucas fought and won't talk to each other" we sat on the sofa.

"and what happened?" I turned to face him.

"We searched after the gate."

"The new north?"

"Yeah and at some point Luke's compass showed another North than mine. Luke said that Eleven would manipulate them. Mike and him discussed over half an hour and then it escalated El threw Luke with his power against a car and Luke drove away. He never left us like that when he and Mike argued. I lost my party. I've got nothing left."

"You have me." I laughed to brighten him a bit up but it failed and he started to cry.

"Dusti, sweatheart everything will be fine. I know it. You all have this inseperable bond and no one will ever break it. You have to convince Mike to apoloize to Luke and then it'll be alrigth, trust me." he burried in my arms as we lay down on the sofa.

"I hope so. I can't loose another friends beside Will."

We lay in silence when our parents entered the room, yeah their travel week has end today.

I think by the time they entered Dustin was asleep. As my mother stood by the couch she mouthed 'is he?" and I only nodded. My dad came to us and carried Dustin in his arms to his room upstairs. Dustin is a deep sleeper in the second he fell asleep the world could end and he would'nt wake up. When my dad was out of the room my mom sat down next to me.

"So what happened?" I told my mother something on the phone but not everything, she shouldn't be involved too much.

"As I told you. Will went missing and a few days after he was found in the Lake. Two days ago we were on his funeral. Dustin is really damaged through this accident. He feels sorry that he couldn't protect Will. And today Luke and Mike argued and Dusti fears that his party is falling apart." she looked shocked at me after telling the events we went through the whole week alone.

"You don't have to worry mom. Dustin and I are fine. We have got each other and he knows I'm helping him with everything."

"I'm proud that you both love each other so much." she gave me a kiss on the forehead and left.

On the next day when I arrived at school there was this tension, I can't describe it but it was there. It was because of the funeral a few days ago but not that everyone was involved.

It was only the three of us, Nancy, Jonathan and me.

At lunch we sat in the nearst corner so nobody could eavesdrop our conversation.

"Ok so Nancy and I want to buy weapons and go for a hunt."

"This afternoon." Nancy adds after Jonathon doesn't seem to speak on.

"This afternoon? Why? I don't know if I can. I have to ask my mom. Maybe we could meet there or I'm coming where you're getting ready."

"Jonathan and I went to the forest behind Steve's house and there was something, we want to hunt." they both nodded as the school bell rang.

"See you later" we seperate and I went to my math class but have to stop at my locker before.

No one was in the hallway what was kind of creepy because otherwise it was full because students wanted to delay the break.

"Y/N." Someone touched my shoulder but I know exactly who it was.

"What?" I turned to face him.

"Why are Nanc and Jonathan hanging out so much lately?"

"I don't know. Ask her yourself I suggest"

"Do you know something? I saw them yesterday in Nanc' bedroom."

"Steve." I shut my locker and turn to him, "I really don't know even if I'd, I don't care about it."

"Why are you so harsh?"

"Why do you even care at all?"

"Because" he came closer and whispered, "I'm still caring about you. I still worry about you. I'm still your best friend"

He is what?! Where was he when I lost my grandmother, when Barb went missing?

"Ah no, Stephen. I don't believe you. You were my best friend yeah that's right but I wouldn't call you a friend anymore. So excuse me." I began to walk to my classroom and bumped intentionally his shoulder.

During my bike drive to the Byers house I listened to my favourite music on my Walkman including 'eye of the tiger' and 'under pressure'.

When I arrived at the location there were no one not even miss Byers.

Through the window I can see some Christmas lights hanging around in the living room and letters written on the wall.

Strange.

I took my bike and drove away.

When I drove by at the supermarket I saw Steve and his best friends standing around his car. Steve held a cola bottle to his eyes.

What happened there?

I didn't even notice that my feet were riding my bike to the entry of the market. As I arrived there Steven jumped up from his car and walked towards me.

"Y/N, hey there" he tried to hug me.

"What happened to your face" I pointed at his eye.

"Ah my friend Jonathan and I beat each other up. Nothing to worry about"

"someone has to nurse it." He approached to me.

"Maybe you could. I trust you" I just laughed. "Please it hurts really bad and my friend over there aren't a good help."

"Fine but only this time. We meet at my house, Harrington" he nodded and I began to ride home.

"What took you so long" he walked to the door.

"Thomas and I fought a bit but it's okay. He's an asshole"

oh really

"jup he is" I opened the door and we walked into the house. Mews came running to us and Steve cuddled her immediately.

"I missed her really bad" I just nodded and walked upstairs to my room.

"you coming?" I heard footsteps on the stairs and moments later Steve stand next to me.

"Sit down. Feel yourself home."

"I'm always feeling home when you're around." He held my wrist

"Steve please." The tension between us is thick you could cut it.

"I'm getting ice and some band aid." I walked to the bathroom and when I arrived in my room I saw that Steve was reading something.

Shit!

"What are you doing?" He frightened as he heard me.

"I was just" he laid the paper down. "I'm sorry" he sat down on my bed and put his hand next to him to show that I should sit next to him.

"What did you read?"

"Your homework?" I walked over to desk and picked the book which declares to be my diary.

What? He didn't. Wait.

"Did you read my diary"

"I'm so sorry Y/N. I didn't want to."

"You saw that it wasn't a normal book but you didn't stop. Steve I wanted to help you but now" I grow angry and couldn't held my anger back. "Steve you're an asshole I can't believe I was so naive to help you. Leave!" I shout at him but he didn't go.

He stood up and walked over to me.

"Y/N I'm so sorry I was and still am an asshole. I was so stupid to let you down. I'm so dumb. I can't believe I left you only to be popular, to become a completely asshole. I'm so sorry to hurt you. You were my best friend and I still hope we can be friends again." By now I started to cry and Steve embraced me.

"I read the letter you wrote and I'm so sorry. I always look at our pictures we made. I miss you everytime I see you in school I want to go to you and talk. Nancy often talks to me about you how you seem to be alone and cold towards her and Barbara and I think it's my fault. Its all my fault." I let out a sob.

"Y/N I was such a dumb boy" I heard Steve sobbing too.

"I can't believe you didn't want to say all the things to me. You know you can always tell me everything. Why didn't you told me that you love me?" I gathered my courage and spoke the first time in forever

"It's not that easy Steve."

"What?"

"First when I'm talking to you everyone would stare at us and call me a whore because I'm talking to a boy in a relationship. And second you wouldn't have cared about it. You would have left for Nancy anyways. You had liked her since ever."

"Ok wait. Nancy is hanging out with Jonathan lately I don't even think I'm her boyfriend anymore. And second because I loved you too but I was afraid to tell you"

"But you love Nancy right?"

"Yeah but it's difficult" by now I began to cry and he sat down on my bed next to me.

"I'm so sorry Steve. I couldn't handle it. And it's my fault I lost you. I wasn't enough for you."

"No.. no you were and you are still perfect" he gently put a strand of hair behind my ear. I looked down onto the floor but felt his graze on me.

"And why did you fought with Jon?"

"Tommy and Carol thought they would be funny if they would let Nancy be starring in the movie theater. They called Nancy a slut after I told them she was with Jonathan yesterday in her room. Jonathan backed up for her. He's at the police station."

"What the hell" I ran my finger through my y/hc hair.

"Nancy slapped me and then Jonathan came and threw his fist in my face and it escalated."

"You're an idiot Harrington." I rolled my eyes. Slowly it feels like it's going to be normal even after the talk before.

Don't let him in again.

"Steve you should go." He nodded and walked toward the door.

"See you in school Y/N" I only nodded as and he left.

Dearest Steve,

Thanks for the memories that you gave me over all those years. I really appreciate that we were friends until Tommy our biggest enemy brought us apart. I did everything for you even if it seemed impossible and crazy. I love you from the very first day and I always gonna love you.

Even if you'll never get this letter I want you to know that you're my everything, my life and my best friend.

I hate being apart from you and not talking to you kills me. Every time I see you and Nancy kissing it kills myself. I'm dead inside and you left. You gave me power to live to hold on but then you left. Puberty really changed you just as Tommy did.

I miss the time when we lay under the stars and talked about our wishes and dreams. My dream now is to go back; to have my Steve back. I had loved it when you were around and we acted like we don't care what others are thinking mostly when we did the weirdest things. I was proud that my best friend is a year over me at school and still likes to meet me.

But the horrible thing is that we see us at school and don't even look at each other. I miss your beautiful brown eyes which light up when you were laughing over my bad jokes. I miss your fluffy hair and your crazy secret behind it. I would love to go back but I can't and I know it. I know I treat you like shit but its just to protect myself not to be hurt again.

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blushing-starker · 4 years

Text

Having a boyfriend that's a natural rule breaker becomes even more tedious because now it's two people conspiring together, itching to shatter social norms. Sure, they won't pull the fire alarm stunt to get out of a quiz (that's more Rocket and Groot's style), place mirrors on front steps to confuse Fury and nearly give the principal a heart attack (Loki with an exasperated Thor and cackling Hela) or hire a mariachi band to follow hall monitor Alexander Pierce (Steve had joined Bucky and Sam in that one); they'd never sneak into the air vents, fill them with glitter so the haughty board of directors would be covered in pink sparkles when they cranked the ac (Clint and Nat).

Ok, they did help with that last one, buying the shimmering stuff from T'Challa's sister and slipping five jars into Clint's backpack, but they didn't actually go into the vents.

But that's not the point. The point is there are limits to their rule breaking; Tony's spot on the football team and Peter's participation in the art club too important to risk on something as silly as skipping a quiz. No, they thanked their best friends, unhooked the window lock and slithered out only after finishing and handing in the quiz. They weren't amateurs.

Still, Peter knows Tony literally couldn't have chosen a worse time for their impromptu lunch date. (Luckily, he'd expected this exact situation.)

"Tony, they don't even have bad food today. We could just wait until the bell rang to meet up and eat at the bleachers. Like we always do a day before a big game."

His boyfriend swivels around, hooks nimble fingers into his belt loops to pull Peter closer, never once stumbling even while walking backwards. The grin he shows is manic, just this side of wild to let Peter know this isn't about haunting nightmares and bouts of anxiety. This is normal, too high on a feeling Tony Stark. Which means he won't head back to school unless Peter pulls out all the stops...

He's too exhausted from last night's art project to use up energy on the puppy eyes. So he sighs, tugs on the blue varsity jacket Tony loves to show off, kisses a dimple before turning this untamed creature around.

"Come on, I found a new route to that shawarma place with MJ and Ned last week." It sounds exasperated, but Tony knows Peter will do anything to keep him happy. Well. Not anything. There's only so many times they can discuss Star Wars before simply agreeing to disagree on whether Han and Luke are pan or bi.

"What, and you tell me this now?", Tony squawks indignantly from Peter's left side, freezing nose nuzzling into Peter's neck as revenge.

Like a robber caught sneaking into a vault, he raises his hands instantly before shoving Tony away.

"Hey, you were focusing on practice! If I told you, you'd bring Rhodey, he'd bring T'Challa and then Shuri would pop up and who goes where she goes? Bucky, which means Steve and Sam, who'd already be there thanks to Rhodey and of course Clint would somehow appear with Nat. We'd be together so Ned and MJ are gonna be teasing with Betty and half the guys in our grade have a crush on Nat, or MJ or Shuri or Betty or you. So what's the end result? The entire football, soccer, basketball and swim team eating shawarma a week before the games. I am not hearing Coach Coulson scold me for you guys breaking diet again. I'm already on his list, another situation like that and I'll have to run fifteen laps around the field."

"Oh come on, you can do those in your sleep." He could, but again, not the point.

"With a weighted backpack, Tony."

"Yeah, I can see why you wouldn't want that."

"Before cycling fifteen laps and then swimming fifteen laps."

"Jesus, why would he even do that?" Tony looks at him then, disgruntled at the thought of his boyfriend doing all that.

He shrugs, doesn't want to explain Peter had done it once when it all got too much and he'd needed to release the pent up energy. He hadn't noticed Coach watching him, ready to come help if he hurt himself. They'd talk afterwards, Coulson making him promise to never do that alone. Now it became a reward and a punishment. Peter won the art contest? Fifteen everything to focus his mind and not go jumping off walls in his excitement.

His students wolfing down a thousand calories before a game? Fifteen everything so Peter would at least "time it so it's not during the season, Jesus". To be fair to Peter, Tony participated in almost all the sports teams so scheduling was hard.

"Listen, just don't eat a whole animal, ok? We can split it, eat enough," he glares at Tony, pushing through even as the puppy eyes come out, "and then head to the movies. They're showing Aliens for a few days cuz of Halloween and I already texted the guys to come during lunch."

His boyfriend, smart and sharp and witty, just blinks at him. "But we have class after lunch."

"Technically, but I convinced Mr Pym to let the class out of lab so we could all hang out. It's the one class we share so now the whole group can see it together."

Tony stops, eyes wide and mouth open.

"You, what, planned this?"

"Yeah, something fun before tomorrow to take it off your mind for a while. Or, you know, not make it stand out as much. I know how focused you get, and it's really great, having that as a goal, strategizing and taking it seriously. But I also know it can be a lot, so I thought we should all hang out since each of us has something coming up and we aren't spending much time together. Which I get, responsibilities and family and school; I just missed it and I can't be the only one, right? So yeah, this was planned. Like, two weeks ago. When MJ found the new route, it was like a sign. And I really want you to relax and enjoy the whole, I have friends that care for me and a boyfriend that loves-"

He slaps a hand on his mouth, eyes impossibly wide and cheeks flaming. Tony and Peter stand immobile, the world reduced to beat up sneakers breaking the simplicity of yellow lines on black, a flickering neon sign telling them the shawarma place is open and two hearts slowly starting to beat again after that confession.

Ned would say it's romantic. MJ would bluntly remind them it's a bad idea to stand in the middle of the road even if they're saying I love you. And with good reason, since there's the telltale roar of a car bursting with teenagers, voices howling out the lyrics to an AC/DC song. And of course Peter notices the noise of rubber swerving against gravel, the screeching of old brakes and a few terrified shrieks harmonizing with a sharp wind blasting into him out of nowhere. Before he can react, Tony is there, wrapping his arms around Peter and shoving them both into the little patch of grass that grows from a crack in dirty pavement.

There's a moment where his whole world flips, tumbles until he screws his eyes shut and prepare himself for whatever the fuck caused that noise. But nothing comes. Only a sigh blowing a stray curl away from his forehead. But a sigh? Why would?

Tony.

He gasps, jolts upright and apologizes when that just serves to jostle his boyfriend further into the ground. His boyfriend who'd flip them so Peter wouldn't be hurt. Tony is peering at him through half shut eyes, discomfort clear on the grimace he tried to transform into a sheepish grin.

"So, you love me, huh?"

It's the stupidest thing Tony Stark has ever said.

"What the fuck were you thinking? You could have gotten hurt, you could have shattered a wrist, dislocated a shoulder, torn an ACL, bent a leg-"

"This is not what I expected. Also it was a three foot leap forward on grass, I'm fine, Peter."

"Or bashed your head, or busted an arm and then what would you do for the game tomorrow? Who the hell does that?"

"The guy you love, apparently."

"That's not the point, Tony, that's unimportant because you nearly got hurt. Christ, Coulson will slaughter me if there's a scratch on you, and then your mom would be sad and I'd be sad because, what would I do without you? And don't you ever do that again, I can't take it. I am not losing you, Tony. God, why would you do that, risk so much on-"

"On you? Babe, I'd do it again. Ok, not the right thing to say based on the whole face thing you got going on right now. But just hear me out. Don't, stop hitting me, ow, why are you hitting, how are you this strong, Jesus. Ow, stop it. Peter, for fuck's sakes, I love you, you animal. Now please let go of the jacket, it'll get wrinkles."

His hands unclasp the soft cotton, Tony falling back with a groan and Peter's unhinged jaw snapping shut after fifteen seconds of letting the flies in.

It's a wonderful thing, hearing the guy he's loved for so long say it back, say he loves Peter.

It's also fucking stupid since there's even more reason to not do stunts like that.

"You're an idiot. I'm in love with a guy that has one shared brain cell with Steve. You could have been hurt, Tony. And what would that have done, huh?"

His boyfriend sighs yet again, wraps an arm around Peter to push them from the ground and heads to the car where their friends are gawking. He waves them off, offers a "Yeah, I know I'm amazing, no, I didn't break anything, T'challa, yes, I can play, Jesus, Rogers, I can read you like a book. I appreciate the worry, Bruce; Nat, thanks for calming him down. Rhodes, excellent driving. No need to hog the seats, Sam, we need to settle in. Peter, you can keep cursing me out if you, yeah, see how it's nice being fun size when you fit in my lap in a car full of people. What, I'm not walking after that, I don't care if it's til we reach the parking. Let's go, Rhodes. Pepper, I'm fine. "

Clint offers a high five. Tony responds and that's that. Out of sight, Ned gives him a fist bump and MJ keeps on reading her book. It could just be his imagination, but Tony's sure she's smiling, approval clear on her face. He preens, glad to have her blessing, and settles his head on Peter's fluffy hair.

-----

When they're all laughing in a booth, smashed together and picking food off of everyone's plate, Peter nuzzles the crook of his neck, holds his hand and squeezes it. Tony smiles, lights up and shoves at Sam's face when the trio of best friends tease him for puffing his chest out when his boyfriend ever so softly says, "I love you."

"I love you, too." The table whoops and calls for another round of food and Coca-Cola, their family grinning at them and fondly teasing the new couple. Tony grins back, high on this feeling of warmth and happiness and safety and love.

And then Peter presses ice cold lips onto his neck and he lets out a shout, pain coursing through him when a knee slams into the table. His eyes water and through the haze of agony he sees their friends exchanging cash, some grumbling and others smirking. Rhodey and MJ, he notes, are the ones that win the most. They high five before pocketing the cash and ordering dessert.

Peter kisses his cheek, smile innocent and eyes wicked. It's his own fault Tony snatches an ice cube and slips it below his Nirvana shirt. He only has five seconds to lord his victory over Peter before there's ice cream being smeared on his cheek. They battle then, accidentally sending food into Wanda's lap, Clint's hair and Bucky's face.

In less than a minute they are all covered in shawarma and participating in the fight. Peter shrieks when Tony pulls him into his lap, gets chicken on the varsity jacket and tries to wriggle away. But Tony kisses him, tastes ice cream and joy, thanks whoever decided to give him a break and find this incredible person dozing on the roof of the school with Ned and MJ one spring afternoon. Peter kisses back and, at the same time, they say, confidently, honestly,

"I love you."

This is dedicated to @drarryismyshit07

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