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jolapeno · 1 year

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iii. file room + accusations

javier peña x dea! f!reader | chapter three of nowhere to run

Summary: Determined to do it better this time, Javier Peña returns to Bogotá to take down the Cali Cartel. With a new promotion, office and team, what he doesn’t expect is the pretty thing outside his office—or why they’re not allowed in the field. chapter warnings: season three narcos spoilers, no use of y/n, flirting to the highest level. wordcount: 5.8k an: thank you for your patience, none of this chapter existed three days ago, but i think it was necessary for how... spicy the next one will be. as always, a huge thank you to @guyfieriii who let me hammer this idea out with her, and @yeyinde who fills me with absolute confidence to take this on.

“You have fun last night?”

Stirring your cup, you turn your head. “We went for one drink—”

“Are you fucking Van Ness?”

You throw the spoon into the sink, glaring—full of poisoned accusation, hoping it stings, hoping it bites.

Chris has always been a little jealous, and a little bitter. But this side of him, the side grown from the decay of what once was…

“Believe it or not, people of the opposite sex can just be friends.”

“Like we were?”

You scoff, almost going to grab your coffee when his hand touches your wrist.

“Sorry… that was,” Chris sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes. “I’m sorry, alright?”

“You’re being an asshole.”

“I know.”

Leaning back on the counter, you stare at him. The man you used to share a bed with, cook with, sleep with—finding yourself unable to recognise him. The same amount you barely were able to recognise yourself these days.

“Just because we went for a drink, doesn’t mean I fucked him. I don’t fuck people just because they buy me drinks, if anything, I fuck them in spite of buying me things.”

Lowering his hand, he opens his eyes. “I know… I just…”

You motion to move, hearing his words die as you hold his gaze. “Do us both a favour, Chris, get over us or stop trying to be my friend.”

It was a last-minute decision to get you coffee.

A thought which nestled until it bloomed and spread itself over all the others. You’d been on his mind, likely put there because of his dreams.

Javi had become so used to the smoky blend of violence and regret in his nightmares, it caught him by surprise long after he awoke that something good had been trying to form. Something with a sly smile that had slowly been driving him wild and a pair of eyes he saw even when he blinked.

His bed creaked as he stretched, shoving the leftover hold of sleep from his muscles.

He turns over how you’d not seemed like yourself yesterday. How quiet you were, how distant. You’d made two visits to his office, both for actual work purposes. He’d thought of asking, of questioning—but each time he’d found himself about to, you had a visitor at your desk.

As time had ticked on, the night bludgeoning the day, he’d watched as you packed up your things, met by one of the other agents—tall and dark-haired—pulling a short laugh from you.

He spent the next hour buried in case files just so he wouldn’t focus on the sound. And how he hadn’t pulled that same sound from you all day.

Now, as streams of sunlight flicker through his curtains, he reaches for his lighter and cigarettes. About to light one, a thought appearing and growing—rotting and festering in the empty space he’s carved for you.

Maybe you’re his delayed punishment.

His price to pay for what he did last time he was here. He thinks of you more than he does others—more than he has done with others.

You are a torture, a thing put here in front of him as something he could have once, and never again. A reminder of it each time you sway into his office. How he’d tasted you, he’d felt your curves and heard your pretty noises. Now only for him to be locked in a prison of his own making because of it.

Because he’s forever interrupted by phone calls, meetings and whatever else life has—and will—throw his way.

As he takes a drag, the point and thought cements itself further, because Javi doesn’t dream.

He relives nightmares and what-ifs, but he rarely ever dreams. Yet, there you were, smiling, pulling him from a nightmare into something more pleasant he didn’t want to wake from. You who hadn’t even fully formed, a shadow, an outline at best, but you’re there, he can tell. All pretty and sharp-tongued—not that he’s heard dream-you even speak, but he knows.

Knows about the same amount as he knows he should turn the water in the shower a bit colder. Should let it sting his chest from how icy it is, trying to cage the thoughts of you he shouldn’t have.

Because there’s a lesson to be learnt about shitting when he’s eating—and he’s already failed it twice.

So, he lets his chin dip to his chest as water cascades down his neck, letting freezing droplets smother any chance of warmth. Because even if he shouldn’t, even if he couldn’t—technically—you’re in his head.

Secretly, he blames you. Blames each quick retort you’ve had and each flirtatious sentence which continuously hangs in the air longer than anything else.

Mainly, he blames you for the things you’re not at fault for. Like your smile, your laugh and the way you tap your pen on the desk when you’re lost in thought.

That softer smile is the one in last night's dreams. Embedding itself firmly in the few hours he’s managed to catch in a while. The edges of it are genuine, exactly like it was in person—looking as much like it was born and not willed, as he’s seen in the flesh. You owe me a coffee. He thought about it as he lay in his sheets, again when he lit his first cigarette and on repeat in the shower.

It’s why he buys you one—it’s cemented in his thoughts.

Front and fucking centre.

By the time he makes it to work, his forehead is slightly slick with sweat. Barely noticeable to most, he supposes, but he feels it. His determination to catch you before the rest filter in, able to confidently present you with your inside joke right at your desk.

It would mean he’s the instigator. It would mean he’d see you taken back, rendered silent for fucking once.

Because normally, it’s you doing that to him. You and your quick wit make him roll his tongue around his mouth as he tries to control his body.

Usually, he was in control. He was the one making others stupid over him—it’s different being on the other side. More so when he catches sight of himself in the reflection of the glass door, the smirk large and proud on his face.

All because of fucking you.

And then, you’re not at your desk.

His tongue pokes into his cheek as he inwardly kicks himself, heart descending down to his stomach—thumping against nothingness and last night's whiskey.

He contemplates binning them as he moves past the desks. Throwing it before someone sees him with two coffees and a piece of fruit. Annoyance spreads like a wildfire through him, singeing the edges of muscles and bones. It layers, landing firmly on top of the shit from Cornerstone, the conversation with Stechner and—

He sees you.

Like the sun which bleeds through clouds on a rainy day; like a torch through thick, sullen darkness. There you are.

Able to see you clearer and clearer on his approach, until he’s peering through his open door, spotting you on your knees, head bent. There’s an array of paper around you, placed out in a semi-circle on his office floor, an empty file box discarded close to the door. You don’t notice him, still fixated on whatever it is that has you in his office.

You don’t even lift up when he’s at the doorway, casting a shadow over the papers.

“You’re in early.”

Smirking, he leans against the doorway, watching you shift a paper to the side. Remaining bent over, finger tapping in a rhythmic pattern against a page closest to your hand.

“And you’re in my office, cariño.”

He expects you to look up, even if just your eyes. You don’t.

Another notch adding to the enigma that is you. The mystery, the hard-to-read and understand puzzle that is currently on your knees.

“I needed the space.”

“For?”

That’s when you lift your head, sighing—if only to yourself—before slowly standing. You don’t groan, and don’t let out a noise as you do, shifting your trousers so they fall as they’re supposed to. Then, you’re awkwardly stepping over your pile as you come to stand beside him.

“Personal project—that for me?”

You take it before he can confirm it, taking a large gulp of it, filling the air with a groan. A sound which tugs something inside of him, even if your eyes remain fixed on the mess on his floor and not him.

It’s childish—almost like he was back in school. Staring at the pretty girl until she notices him. But you are pretty, and fuck does he wish you’d notice him.

“Thanks.”

Something sinks.

He’s not sure what, but it’s in his chest.

Somehow, foolishly, he’d expected a little more from the gesture. The fact you’d been more grateful when he’d returned a pen, than grabbing you coffee. That, and your eyes barely meet his, continuing to turn something over in your mind as you take another sip.

It’s silent, your silent—outside of the occasional sighs you let escape.

Realistically, he knows you’re not being your usual self because you’re likely doing your job—something in the short span of time he’s known you, he knows you do well. But, it feeds into that… feeling. The one he woke up with when you’d left. Rejection.

Something he’s experienced before—been through. Yet, never really learnt how to handle it.

How often are you told no, Peña? Rarely. I can believe that. You want another drink? Can’t say no, can I?

It rattles him more because it’s you. You who has made him do things like this. He wanted to make you smile, wanted to show you that he fucking listened.

Even if you confuse him. Bouncing from one minute flirting with him as he tries to be decent, fighting the feeling of the beads of sweat collecting on his collar. The next you’re staring through him as though you’d rather skin him than fuck him.

He can’t say any of that, not as he massages his inner cheek between his teeth. Eyes staring at the pages, noticing the manilla case files poking out underneath all the stark white papers.

He’s itching to get closer. To read the number on the side strips, see what it is that has stolen your attention.

Instead, he nudges you. Watching as you lift your chin in his direction. Your eyes are the last to rise from the floor. Your face all blank and expressionless—appears as if you’re awaiting instruction from him for something. He sees the circles under your eyes, the rest of your face devoid of anything he can dissect. It almost feels as if he’s trying to read the wall, rather than a person who has made him copious cups of coffee.

“You need me to move?”

He snorts, if only to himself. “No. But you’re quiet...”

Shooting him a short nod, you offer a forced smile. “Sorry.”

He feels something knot, something which makes it hard to take a step back and turn away from you. Something urging him to push, to keep standing there, even if he would get more from the water cooler.

“Hey… you good?”

You eye him, brows narrowing ever so slightly. “Yes. Of course...”

He nods. “Good. Okay, good.”

You turn more to face him, frowning as you try but find yourself unable to discern whatever it is you’re looking for—not that he knows what you’re searching for.

He’s confused, prickled—tense. But nothing else.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be or something?”

You seem upset. Distracted.

That’s what he wants to say. Wants to try and unpick the reason for your sharper gaze, raised shoulders and the almost box of files on his office floor.

Likely would if it didn’t allow you to know that he watches you, even through the blinds. That he knows these little things, the small shifts in your otherwise carefully constructed set of walls and barriers to keep everyone out.

“I expected you to give me more shit… about the fruit, the coffee. Be difficult.”

You smirk, leaning as you run the cup under your nose. “I can be difficult if you need me to be, sir.”

Your smile slowly spreads, more teeth than you’ve shown—more laid-back. It stretches from your cheeks to your eyes. His tongue runs across the front of his teeth, watching it, how it illuminates and lights every part of you.

“Somehow, I bet you can be.”

Shrugging, you take a sip from the coffee again—eyes narrowing ever so slightly at the taste.

He did good, he thinks. Knowing you likely won’t admit it, acknowledge it—

“This is good…”

He feels his brow rise, wiping his bottom lip. “Yeah?”

“Almost as good as you… sir.”

You watch him, make sure it lands. Watch it spread. Likely enjoying the show too. He can’t hide it, not quick enough to mask it. Not that he really puts much effort into trying.

It’s futile, a waste of energy and time.

He’s even sure you hear him inhale and whisper the word fuck as your phone rings.

“I’ll tidy this up in a minute, excuse me.”

Then you’re gone. Leaving him with your words and perfume, hearing the distinct sweet and, most innocent voice.

A voice which didn’t fit or follow what you had just said.

He’d never thought Messina’s job looked fun, but he never realised how unbearable it must have been.

Javi’s head throbs from it.

All of it. The meetings about meetings, the bureaucracy which wraps ropes around his throat and the fact—even if he’s not in the room—he can feel Stechner breathing down his neck.

Something pulses more so when he meets your smirk-smile. The one he was robbed of enjoying yesterday, but today has got it in plenty. He puts it down to the coffee, not the possibility he heard you went out for a drink with another agent last night.

Fresh air washes over him as he steps out of the building. The stuffy boardroom air uncurling itself from his suit as the grey, cloudy day hangs around him. Normally, he finds the humidity tiresome, but today it greets him like a friend. A better friend than pompous air breathed by men who want an easy win, than fight the actual fight that’s necessary.

It’s habit again now, lighting a cigarette, even if he had tried to quit. His fingers hover the cigarette close to his lips, watching the end sparkle with orange and yellow as he releases his shoulders from around his ears.

Bad habit, that. So are you. You don’t mean that, sir.

Taking the longest drag, he lets it fill his lungs.

Hearing your voice call him sir, it is always faintly there—a callback, a reminder. A tease.

He didn’t mean it, you’d been right. Didn’t mean it so much at all. Even if you were bad and a habit, you weren’t a bad habit.

Javi kept thinking about that night, and the ones he could have enjoyed after. Thoughts of taking you back to his and seeing how many times he can make you call his name; whether you’d beg him in that same way, please, Javi, please.

It’s taken all of his strength not to act on it.

Something to prove fizzing inside of him, blending with the taste and scent of tobacco which bleed across his senses. It slowly undoes each tendril of stress, unknotting each tense muscle, allowing the briefest second of calm—of peace—to wash over him.

Sex did that too.

Sex, whiskey and smokes did it all together. A perfect blend—one which had kept him going for longer than he cared to admit before.

He didn’t smoke the night he fucked you. Hadn’t even realised he hadn’t until he smoked this one—acknowledging there’s a deeper meaning there, but unwilling to unfold it.

No good came from digging inside himself, not now. Not when his walls are painted in red shame and bitter regrets.

He’d thought things were easier then.

Before, when he didn’t have people answering to him, and he had a partner. He had a person to share a desk space with. Now, he’s behind glass—placed on a mantle, eyes looking up to him when they should be looking down. The pressure nipping at him, the smoke swirling up to his nose as he hovers the cigarette on his lip.

It’s at the last minute he catches the blonde woman coming closer, more into his view. Right in his peripheral. “Can I get one of those?”

Her non-embassy attire catches him off guard, before she introduces herself. Eyes raking up and down her, unsure where he knows her from—where he’d place her. Something, that voice he continuously ignores, firing and chirping, but he does what he always does.

Javi should have known. He’s trained to be better. Expected to do better.

Churning her name, the newspaper she works for in his head as he lets his smoke dangling from his lip. Already waiting, expecting. She was a reporter, she’d have questions. More than asking him for a cigarette and more than a simple chat about the weather.

Then it falls from her tongue. Acidic, purposefully chosen to knock him—to bother him.

It does. Especially because she casually throws them his way. Him left feeling them figuratively land and bruise as she did. Each accusation not spoken, feels sharper and more painful than the previous, his cigarette doing nothing to stoke the rising shame and annoyance.

If anything, it just covers it in tobacco smoke and a bitter taste.

“Have a nice day—”

“Have you heard much about the Cali accident? Four more people dead. Children. Dozens more sick.”

The reporter's words swirl, peck and dig into him further. His sharp response is not close to the one he wants to give: I cannot get involved. His place here is tied securely to his behaviour. One wrong step, one misfortune, and he’s sure he’ll be back in Texas. Having accomplished nothing, once again.

“Looks like you said, it was an accident.”

The lie falls from him before he can pull it back. Knowing she doesn’t believe him—he doesn’t even believe himself.

She snorts, half-laughing in mockery. “By the end of the day, it will be. No matter what the truth is.”

The itch inside of him worsens when she turns from him. Fingers rolling against his palm, making him wish he’d finished his cigarette irrespective of the questioning and insinuations. The imaginary rope that ties his hands behind his back, constricting, stinging.

His palm meets his forehead, rubbing against it as he heads in. Feet carrying him, body moving—

He needs you.

You who he could vent to, ask, merely fucking speak to. You who’d likely see through his bullshit and know something is wrong. You who he suspects understands, for reasons not highlighted in your report or in any file. Who stared into his eyes in that bar and made him wonder what hell you’d been through for the vengeance to live so prominently in your eyes.

He comes to a stop, blinking as he lands on you, glaring into Feistl.

The two of you huddled close, engaged in a discussion that didn’t look all too friendly. Your eyes gave it away, the forced smile confirming it. So much of your thoughts flitted across your face when you weren’t careful—and usually, you were careful.

That’s something he learnt quickly. That you’re secretive, cautious, meticulous.

When he blinks, he watches you say something before walking away before it’s fully landed. His jaw tightens, almost cracks. Eyes fixed on the back of the other agent, unable to tear his eyes away, watching you throw something in the sink, mutter something and storm in the other direction.

He shouldn’t care.

He’d learnt to avoid problems between couples with Connie and Murphy. He supposes it’s even more important to stay out of it when they were exes. Ones who worked closely with one another, shared office space and breathed the same air.

He does care.

It’s the only reason why he waits, almost reaching his office before he turns on his heels and heads in the direction you’ve gone.

With each step, he swipes his index finger over the pad of his thumb, unsure what he’s going to say. What he’s going to do. Thrumming with annoyance from the outside; protectiveness swirling with a bunch of other unresolved feelings inside of him.

It makes no sense—none of it. Yet the door squeals in protest as he shoves it open.

Dropping your hand from your face, your eyes greet him instantly—the door barely back in its frame before you’ve hidden how wide and surprised they were.

He doesn’t speak, but neither do you.

And then, slowly—as though they were the physical embodiment of your walls coming down—your arms folded and your eyes narrowed. All he did was simply fucking stare, all he could do.

There’s nothing he can say. Not that would make any sense—not to him, or to you. So, he allows the heaviness of the conversation outside and the annoyance that had grown in its place, to slowly dissipate as he stares and breathes, letting you do the same.

The tension thickens. Almost softly simmering between the two of you.

There’s no music thrumming this time, no alcohol to blame for the kinder expressions and wider grins. He just focuses on trying not to pay attention to it, but in the smaller space, it’s harder to ignore. It sits there grinning with its shiny teeth, its mocking behaviour taunting him, as he wonders if it’s the same for you.

And then, you smile as if you can read his thoughts. It's instant, the way it smothers other emotions. Dilutes them, makes his tongue run across his teeth as he lets the stress melt from his shoulders and back.

“I know what you’re gonna say?”

Looking at the floor, you snort. “I doubt that.”

“It’s none of my fucking business, right?” he adds, your eyes staring at him through your brows. “But, it looked heavy and I needed to ask—wanted to ask.”

“I’m fine.”

He gnaws at other words. Deciding quickly against them, swallowing them back, and switching to the next set of things he could say.

“You told me you’d take the mountain of shit for me—hold the walls up. Remember?”

“Faintly.”

Lie, he thinks. It flutters across your face, the acknowledgement, how easily you’re able to recall it. He takes that as his invitation. Stepping closer, he watches as you unfold your arms.

“Who does that for you, cariño?”

Your mouth—so usually the quicker one out of the two of you—clamps shut. Any quick remark fizzling into nothing as your chest rises and falls significantly, likely all from a silent sigh.

“I promise I’m—“

“Don’t lie,” Javi adds, interrupting you. “Not to me.”

Please, he thinks. But, he keeps that silent request to himself—even if it’s likely he’s spelling it with his eyes, his softer expression.

You shift, eyes fluctuating between softening and sharpening. As if unsure whether to let him in—and be honest, trusting—or ruin him. He just hopes it's the former. Feeling it—that something which thrums in the air whenever he’s around you. The thing he’d rather bury than confront.

Even if he likes being near you. Likes how you make him coffee, visit his office and tell him things he already knows. Just to be near you. To make sure you’re okay because you so often make sure he is.

Your eyes narrow. “What’s happened?”

“What?”

Tilting your head, you sigh. “You went out for a smoke—“

“How’d you kn—“

Smirking, you lick your lips. “You’re not the only one with a pair of eyes, Peña. What. Happened?” Blowing out air, you shake your head. “I’m not stupid—”

“—I don’t think you’re—”

“And, you want me to tell you things, and you can’t even tell me what happened outside to make you this riled up.”

He lets you have that one. Nodding gently, running his hands through his hair as he contemplates it—telling you. Informing you of it all. How Martínez doesn’t trust him, that the reporter outside…

Looking up, he stares at you.

You are the face of ruination. Your eyes able and powerful enough to bring him to his knees. Already unspooling him, having dug under a layer he’s never allowed many others.

So he decides against sharing, instead smirking.

Not for reasons such as him not trusting you, but because this isn’t about him. It was always about him. You made it about him, whenever you fucking could, just like it had been before. Back when he had Steve, when he made catching Escobar about him. When he convinced himself he was doing what was right.

He’d do it again—parts of it, anyway. But he still wanted this to be different, to be better, to be—

“How y’sleeping?”

You blink, almost wincing from surprise. “Fine.” “Don’t lie.”

“How do you know I’m not sleeping?”

Swiping his thumb across his bottom lip, he shrugs. “Because I know I don’t. More here, than I did in Texas. But… not like before. Nothing close to the hours I got before Escobar.”

He watches your eyes widen at his name. The one he so rarely says, even when questioned.

The one which makes a muscle in his chest tighten when he hears the name, fighting to not let the guilt and shame run through his blood at the mere mention.

“I know I have no idea what you went through. But, I’d get it—try to, at least.”

It flashes like a rainstorm over your face. The heaviness of the clouds and then the downpour—and before he can get an umbrella out, it’s over. Javi isn’t quick enough to work out each expression. Not sure if he’s miles off or so close to the thing unravelling you, that he’s rendered you silent.

You roll your lips, before whispering, “I don’t sleep either.”

He blinks, staring at you as you try to force a smile and he moves closer.

Like the two of you are being drawn together, pulled. It is all another dance, one without music, a beat or lyrics, and yet, you lift your hand to his cheek. Some words forming, that never appear. A different expression cracked over the former, one that he wasn’t sure he'd seen before.

He tries to paint it, carve it into a space so he can unpick its meaning later—knowing how quick you are to wipe your canvas clean. But, your eyes flick over him, looking for something as he slides a hand over your hip, feeling you hunting. He feels the warmth stroke from his eyes to his lips, and back again.

The thread, the one which had begun being sewn between the seats at the bar, was tightening and it tugged the two of you closer and closer, until he felt you—your lips.

You’re kissing him.

Hands pressed on both sides of his cheeks as you brought his mouth down to yours. Devastating him, ruining him all over again. Everything about you is intense. Consuming. Spanning over him and tugging him under in thick waves he’s not sure where they came from.

All he can focus on is how good it feels to kiss you again.

How soft your lips are, how he didn’t take the time to appreciate it before. How today you’re a mix of sugary lips and a bitter coffee tongue.

He guides you, moving you behind the shelves—more out of view, the softest huff escaping your lips when your back meets the shelving. One he captures and stores, holding it closely as he pulls you tighter against him. Almost desperately so. You scorch yourself against him, hoping to leave something on him you’ll be able to see—something he welcomes. Some proof that you’re not too far out of reach as he groans at the sensation of your nails scraping through his hair and your mouth burning against his.

It’s messy, disorientating—but, so are you.

His tongue licking up into your mouth, hearing the discernible sound of a moan smothered by both your mouths as the shelving creeks when your spine presses against it.

It’s natural, well-versed—like it was in his place. His thigh slotting between both your legs, hearing his name leave your lips in a whimper, all wrapped inside of a groan that has been born somewhere deep in your throat.

Then it turns slower, gentle, languid. His head swimming in you, and only you. A hand up your spine curling you closer; your hand sliding from his hair and cheek to his neck.

“Cariñ—“

The squeal of the door yanks the two of you apart.

His heart hammers, fucking thunders as your back flattens to the shelves, his feet making him step back—hidden behind more shelving.

Someone from the doorway yells your name, not a voice he’s familiar with.

They’re sharp, gruff, far enough away to not know, but if they stepped in the room…

Javi is sure anyone could walk in and they’d feel the tension. More so convinced when he glances down your frame, seeing buttons undone and exposed, soft, kissable skin.

You must feel it. The way he looks at you. Your mouth shouting back you’d be there in a minute as nervous, shaky fingers try to button yourself.

In typical fashion, you shoot a sharp glare at him. One he’d already been expecting. One he knows you don’t mean.

They’re not like the ones he endured when he first met you. It wasn’t the glare that made him almost beg for forgiveness. This glare was a ‘we almost got caught, idiot’ stare. One he feels no guilt about as he waits in your silence, hearing the door once again close.

“We can’t do this.”

He moves, stepping back in front of you, leaning both hands on the shelves—caging you in, keeping you close. Not allowing you to wriggle away. “Well, we can’t do this here.”

It crosses his mind it could be too much. He could be being too much.

That it was fine at the bar, at his place. That it’s fine with the flirting, but anything more is overstepping. Then Javi sees the glint—the soft twitch of your right lip before he feels hands slide around his neck. Keeping him as close as he’s keeping you.

“Peña.”

“Cariño.”

You smirk, fingers sliding down his chest, not breaking eye contact with him. “Thought you were trying to be decent.”

“Told you I was doing a poor job of it.”

It’s less a smirk, and more a smile now. Soft on the edges, almost warm. Something he wishes to bottle. If only to keep the feeling he has bubbling in his chest when he spots it. When you allow him to see past curled lips and sharper words.

“Let me take you for a drink.”

You smile, playing with his tie. “You don’t have to buy me a drink to fuck me. This isn’t transactional. You don’t have to find a way to pay me to be around you.” Your eyes flip up, cutting into his, letting his thoughts run wild as you slowly roll your lips. “Plus, I want to.”

“Want to what?”

You trace your bottom lip with your tongue. “Fuck you.”

Letting go of his tie, you wink.

“I did tell you earlier, you’re more than half-good. Are you really that surprised I’d want another round with you?”

Moving from him, walking around the files until he hears the door squeal and slams back into place. Slowly raising his hand, massaging his forehead.

Staying in the file room for an impossibly long-time. An amount appropriate to how hard you’d gotten him, to how long it took him to will it away with thoughts of case file boxes and catching narcos.

It’s hours until he gets a sight of you, watching you poking your head in his doorway. The afternoon having firmly gone, blanketed instead by the night.

“Hey,” you say, leaning against the frame.

You look worn, more tired. Whatever had stolen you from your desk seemingly having taken the last shreds of caffeine and willpower you had been running on.

He also notices you’re wearing your coat, bag already in hand. He doubted it was an invite to leave with you.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to go try and grab that thing you mentioned.”

Leaning back into his chair, he lets his brow rise. Feeling it curl up his face as your smile seeps into your cheeks and eyes.

“Sleep, Peña, I’m going to go try and get some sleep.”

“Afraid you’d enjoy your tenth cup of coffee or something?”

Licking your lips, you roll your eyes. “Eleventh. I had the tenth after… we organised the file room.”

“That’s what we’re calling it?”

Shaking your head, he smiles.

Natural, easy. Like it’s the most normal thing Javier Peña can do, when he never fucking does it. When it’s been so long since the last time, he can’t actually find a time with much ease.

“We’re okay, aren’t we?”

Leaning on his elbows, digging them into the paper covering the wood, he has to nod. “Thought that was my line.”

There are plenty of women he’s had a nice time with, plenty that he’s had a great time with. Some he’s liked going back for more, others he never has. But it’s rare he has a good time when both sets of clothes are on. Rare when it’s in an environment like this, flooded in fluorescence and weighed down by expectations.

Smiling, he taps his desk. “We’re good, cariño. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Peña… you should…” you begin to say, standing a little taller as you glance at his desk, slowly pointing to something near the top of the pile. “He’s a good agent. Thorough. Just take a look at what he’s done. Ch—Feistl, he wants to do a good job. He cares a lot, too. So, just consider it… even if you do so because I make you coffee and am extra nice to you.”

He stares, confusion wrapping around words he won’t speak. Because he’s not sure how someone can be so nice about a person they keep bickering with only earlier. A person he’s pretty sure you called an asshole if his lip reading was up to scratch.

“If you get some sleep, I’ll look over it, sure,” he smirks.

You nod, lifting up from the doorframe—he expects you to leave, but you linger.

Pretty eyes drink him in, looking close to how they did in the file room, and it takes all of his willpower to not cross the room and kiss you again. It would be easier too, to stop fighting and give in.

But he doesn’t, afraid if he does, it would be the last time. Somehow, unsure if he could allow himself to have nice things, never mind actually having them.

Glueing his feet to the ground, he feels you break eye contact. Allowing him to capture his full breath.

“Try to get some yourself—sleep that is. Maybe we can be less difficult with one another that way.”

He laughs, watching you turn on your heels as he leans to grab the file. Listening to your shoes getting quieter, until he’s left with his thoughts and the low mumble of the television.

He spots your handwriting first, words left on your usual lined paper so similar to the ones you’ve just spoken. Then he opens it, finding tabs along certain pages—ones he knows aren’t there from Feistl but you.

It’s only as he reads, as he goes between messy writing and typed-up words, does he see what you mean. Does he begin to see the beginning of something.

It turns the cogs, and lets them twist—something forming until he’s standing.

Then the television catches his eye, hand quick to grab the remote as he turns it up. He feels his stomach drop, parts of the formed idea beginning to solidify as other parts begin to crumble.

…After a thorough investigation, we’ve reached the conclusion that the Yumbo chemical exposure was caused by a faulty valve in a natural gas line in the area…

chapter four ->

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi peña x f!reader #javier peña narcos #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena #narcos x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #mm: nowhere to run #javier peña fanfiction #javi peña fanfiction #javi peña narcos #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier

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noangeleither · 11 months

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headcanon for sydcarmy that I've had for months now that i was reminded of rewatching Fools Rush In yesterday (rip Matthew Perry) and reading @ambeauty 's new fanfic.

i love the unplanned pregnancy trope with them and also the idea that they would do every milestone backwards or hit them super fast in terms of their relationship. hear me out

what i love about sydney and carmy is how intense they are about each other while not knowing each other for that long. carmy spends braciole acting like a heartbroken widower and ends the episode by planning on revamping his family restaurant with a girl he's only known for a couple months. the restaurant dream he thought died with his brother, the person he loved the most (woah). while sydney is her most emotionally vulnerable with a guy she barely knows (and physically too, i.e the hug after the fire suppression test and the table scene) and constantly gives him second chances when he doesn't deserve them.

they are weird and intense about each other even with all these platonic and professional boundaries they put in place.

in my mind that is rotting from tumblr and ao3, when those boundaries disappear they will do the relationship shit on speed drive. oops they get pregnant after a few months of dating or a situationship. whats having a baby when you have a restaurant? they are already the mom and dad of the bear!

they would elope randomly on a tuesday afternoon after dating for a couple months bc they practically eat sleep live and breathe each other every single day anyways? carmy tells syd he doesn't want to wait when he already knows she's it for him. syd says he's crazy but she may just be crazier for agreeing (also grew up with hearing her parents love story who got married super young and fast so why cant she?)

oh they just started dating a few days ago? syd moves in or they start looking for new places. shes already here all the time when they menu plan. carmy already buys her fave snacks, subscribes to a couple streaming services for the first time bc syd loves to binge-watch shows, and has a couple of her scarves laying around.

and i love that this could go really bad, how intense and how much they love each other (bc im an angst enjoyer) or most likely really great bc these two losers want to practically live in each other's skin and make each other better.

side note: after watching fools rush in again...need a sydcarmy au bc the premise of two people from different cultures, values and perspectives foolishly rushing into a big thing like opening a restaurant having a baby is so them!

#the bear #sydcarmy #sydney x carmy #no no like hear me out #the berzattos are rich and affluent family who own a chain of fine dining restaurants all around the world and carmy has to go back #to chicago to open up another where he meets sydney #they have a one night stand syd runs off after and come back after 3 months bc shes pregnant!#i think a lot of the story would have to be changed in this fic since their personalities are different from alex and isobel but it can wor #....i have ideas #alex and isobel also elope in the movie they get married at one of those elvis chapels dksfhksfj #everyone should watch this movie its underated and matthew is hilarious

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lokidokieokie · 1 year

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Shattered Dreams

Summary: Soulmates are meant to be the one thing that makes you feel whole; but you've just been shattered.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): ANGST, mentions of suicidal thoughts, heartbreak, sad!reader, mentions of soulmate bond,

You sat in the crowded hall, watching from the sidelines as Loki and his soulmate exchanged their vows of everlasting love.

The moment that was seen as beautiful to all of Asgard was soul-crushing for you. After all, how many people can say that they saw their soulmate get married to another?

You remember it as if it was yesterday; the day you finally saw those stunning emeralds. It was the day that changed everything; the day that shattered your hopes and dreams.

Because, although you finally saw colour; Loki didn't.

So, as the ceremony began to reach it's final stages, you quietly slipped away from the crowd and into the gardens. The one place where you could be alone with your thoughts; no matter how horrid they may be.

You walked to the closest bench and sat down, as tears began to slip out of your eyes. The pain in your chest was too much to bare. And it didn't help that your mind was stuck on the 'what ifs'.

But you were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of footsteps; those all-too familiar footsteps.

Pulling your hands away from your face, your eyes met those sparkling green irises that you loved.

"Y/n, I wanted to talk to you," he said softly, taking the seat next to you.

You didn't trust yourself to speak, so you simply nodded, your eyes now fixed to the grass floor underneath you.

Loki hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I- I know that today was difficult for you, and I'm so sorry for any hurt that you being here today caused. But you have no idea how much it means to me that you've shown up today."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. "An apology isn't going to fix anything, Loki. I loved you, and you chose someone else."

He reached out to take your hand, "I know, but I am sorry. But you have to understand, I couldn't ignore my connection with her. It was too compelling."

You shook your head, tears still streaming down your face. "I know how compelling the soulmate bond is. And I understand, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. It doesn't make the fact that you married someone else any less painful."

His face softened, and he reached to wipe your tears away. "I wish I could make it go away, Y/n. I wish I could take away all your pain."

You looked up at him, your eyes now filled with a mix of sorrow and anger. "You can't Loki. You don't get to come here and make everything better. You made your choice; you chose her. And I have to live with the consequences."

He nodded, his eyes filled with regret. "I know. But I just want you to know that I care about you, Y/n. And that I always will."

You felt your heart shatter into millions of pieces at his words. "It's too late for that, Loki. You made your choice, and I have to live with the fact that I'll never be with the person I love; the person I was destined to be with."

They both sat in silence for a while, the both of them lost in their own thoughts. You knew that this was your goodbye, there was no moving past this for you.

As Loki stood up to leave, he turned to look at her one last time. "Goodbye, Y/n. I hope you're able to find happiness one day."

It was dark now. You had been sitting at the bench for what must've been at least a couple hours by now.

Eventually, you stood up, and walked towards the edge of the garden, overlooking the cliffs and crashing waves in the cavern below. You felt numb; shattered beyond repair.

As you looked out into the abyss, you couldn't help but think about all the moments you had shared with Loki. All the stolen glances and secret smiles. The late-night conversations and moments of pure bliss.

But now, it was all gone. You would never have those moments with Loki again. You would never have Loki.

A small part of you wanted to jump off the cliff, to end the pain once and for all. But you knew that wasn't the answer. You had to keep going, even though every step of the way felt like a knife stabbing your heart repeatedly.

As you turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of yourself hanging in the mirror on the garden wall. You barely recognised the person staring back at you. Your eyes were swollen from tears, your face was pale, and your hair was a downright mess.

You knew you couldn't go back to the wedding reception. You couldn't bring yourself to face the happy couple and pretend that everything as okay. You had to leave; you had to get away from the pain.

You quickly walked back to the bench and grabbed what little items you brought with you, and then left the garden. As you walked through the hallways of the castle, you could hear the faint sound of music and laughter from the reception.

It all felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of everything that you had lost. You couldn't take it anymore.

As you reached the grand entry, you hesitated before opening them. You stepped out into the cold night air, the wind whipping your hair into your face.

You took one last look at the castle, knowing that it would be the last time you would ever see it. You turned and walked away, her heart heavy with grief and regret once more.

As you walked down the path, even more tears freely flowing down your face, you knew that you could never be the same. The love that you had for Loki had consumed your entire being, and now it had ultimately destroyed you.

You had no idea where you were going, or what you would do next. All you knew is that you could never go back to the life you had lived before. You had to start over, and find a way to live without the person you loved.

But you knew deep down that you would never be happy again. The pain of your unrequited love would haunt you for the rest of your life.

A/N that was probably the most angsty thing I've ever written.

Also, please know that you're never alone, and that there is always someone willing to listen. If you ever need to rant about anything, my inbox is always open.

🏷 @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee @dryyoursaltyoceantears as per usual, lemme know if you want to be tagged

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obislittleone · 7 months

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The Winner Takes It All

Episode 12

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: this might be the saddest one... or maybe I'm delusional and it can only get worse from here. Anyways, death, canon typical violence, drowning, my sweet baby Lukas is trying his best as always... oh yeah a hUGE AMOUNT OF ANGST

Chapter Summary: This is the endgame, there are four tributes remaining. Who will live, and who will die? The choice has never been up to the tributes.

Word Count: 3.8k

my live action cinderella dress (movie accurate) is finally done so expect me to have a lot more editing time. I will also probably have more writing time so expect some endings to unfinished series.

“He had f-feelings for me?” Lukas was dumbfounded. The poor kid didn’t even get to tell you. He tried to speak, opened his mouth to do so, but froze upon not knowing what he could possibly say in response. Maybe just start with the truth. “He did,” his head fell when the words finally escaped. “I’m sorry, he wanted to tell you.”

You’d been silent. Not quiet, but absolutely silent. Lukas didn’t try to make you be anything else… but he did have to keep you moving. It wasn’t much later in the day, but the sun was already setting. The minimal amounts of light only being shown through the small openings of the tree canopy. It was harder to tell where you were going. Nothing looked the same as it did yesterday, or the day before. You could swear you’d walked through here to get to the stream, but the path had somewhat changed along the way.

As drowned in your thoughts as you’d been right after it happened, your entire body, including your brain, had been numbed to Rodey’s death. His blood was still on your hands. Figuratively and literally. You didn’t stare at it too long, forgetting to let your gaze linger on anything except the path ahead, and Lukas, who was three steps in front of you.

You both were half of the remaining tributes. It was a miracle you both had made it this far, but now that the numbers had dwindled, there were two other tributes left who were hunting the both of you. It was better to keep moving than to sit like a duck and let one of them take their victory.

The longer you went without finding the stream, your need for freshwater had grown exponentially. It was strange how the past few days it would rain for hours, but now that you actually needed water it ceased to exist… in a literal rainforest. That was the peak behavior of a game maker, to play sinisterly.

“We can stop here for now. Maybe if I can get up one of these trees I’ll be able to spot the stream again.”

You barely minded what he was saying, giving a small nod to at least show you heard him. You didn’t care much to speak anymore, not even to the person who you felt the most patience from. He was doing fine without the constant dialogue of the days before, and you knew he’d be fine without it till the end. He was going to win, there was no doubt in your mind. You’d thought that perhaps it could be him or Rodey, but Rodey died saving you. Now you would do the same for Lukas, whenever the situation finally came.

You sat down, back against a tree trunk and head dropped forward, eyes making an instant connection with the dried blood on your body. Even if you scrubbed at yourself for hours, there was no chance you could get rid of it all. You have the blood of two allies on your hands, now. That’s as many as you’re willing to have.

Lukas had set down his pack, starting to climb the roots and knots of the tree’s enormous base, when a tiny parachute descended straight towards him. You looked up when you heard the familiar sound it made, watching it fall into the boy’s hands.

“Head’s up,” he called, tossing you one of two canteens full of water. You took it gratefully, beginning to drink up as much as you could take.

Lukas smiled before looking down to the note included.

Talk to her for me, tell her it’s not her fault. - F

He sighed, trying to come up with any ideas on what he could possibly say. There’s no way to know if she’ll even be open to a conversation. There’s no indicator that she even wants to speak at all. But this is a sponsor that keeps them from having to exhaust their resources, and Finnick asked for something simple in return. He doesn’t understand why Finnick is so dead set on coddling you in this arena. It’s not like things are going to get any better from here. It’s an absolute fact that the time can only become worse, until everyone meets their end but one.

But against his logic, and against what his brain is telling him, his gut wants to follow his mentor’s instructions… So he does.

He sits beside you at the base of the tree, his own canteen in hand and his pack in the other.

“Listen, I know you don’t wanna talk about it,” he assumed, given the fact that you’ve literally said nothing since it happened. “But what happened, it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

You reasoned with the scene over in your head, and the only way it didn’t end the same way is if he didn’t choose to jump in front of you. It was hard to think about, because you feel responsible. He wouldn’t have jumped if you weren’t there. But if you weren’t there, she’d only have him to charge at. It all ends the same every time. He was faster than you, braver than you. He would have stepped time and again, and you couldn’t stop him.

“He s-saved me. It was f-for me.”

“I know.”

You closed your canteen and let it roll out of your hands and onto the ground next to you, curling your legs to your chest and trying to comfort yourself. You really didn’t want to talk about it, but if he was adamant for you to do so, it was going to be on your terms.

He seemed to be stumbling for more words, and only came across some having rambled a thought from his head.

“I wish he’d never told you…”

“T-told me what?”

He hadn’t caught onto the fact that you had no idea what he was talking about. So like a dumbass, he kept going.

“About his feelings for you. I told him a few days ago it could only hurt you. Then again I also told him it was a good idea so I guess we were both stupid,” his rambling of a response made your eyes widen in both shock and anger.

“He had f-feelings for me?”

Lukas was dumbfounded. The poor kid didn’t even get to tell you. He tried to speak, opened his mouth to do so, but froze upon not knowing what he could possibly say in response. Maybe just start with the truth.

“He did,” his head fell when the words finally escaped. “I’m sorry, he wanted to tell you.”

For some reason, this information didn’t hurt you as much as it should. Instead, it angered you. How could he possibly have been so stupid to sacrifice himself in the name of feelings for someone he’d only recently met? How could he have given up a possible win, just to show his devotion. Had it been an instinctual move of protection, you could have accepted it… but no.

“I s-should be dead r-right now. All these p-people around me, dropping l-like flies. And I’m still h-here.”

“Don’t say things like that. Look, I get it. You feel responsible…”

You nodded, because yes, you absolutely did. Your ally’s blood is on your hands, and no matter how many times you scrub it away, it will always be there.

“But I feel responsible for you. I’d rather it be any of them than you, understand?” He finished off, his look of seriousness piercing yours of confused emotion. Sadness, anger, guilt. Probably more, but you can’t identify them.

You nodded, but his words didn’t make you feel any better. If anything it just made things worse. He was still trying to protect you, and you couldn’t stand losing one more ally. Especially not him. He had to be the one to make it out of here. You’d been thinking about it so much more the past several hours, now that only four remain. You’ve only gotten this far because of your allies, but now they are almost gone. It’s on the verge of every man for himself, but you know Lukas won’t let you die on your own. If it comes down to the two of you, you have every intention of throwing yourself from the top of a tree so he can go home. You don’t think you’ll survive the other two tributes, however.

“You’re g-going to win, y’know.”

He sighed, looking at the ground and shrugging. Maybe they are true, the things that you say. He just hopes they aren’t.

“I’m not so sure anymore. If I were a gambling man, I’d have to put money on you.”

“Well then it’s a g-good thing you don’t gamble,” you smiled, trying to expel every other feeling you had, and only hold onto one emotion at a time. The air was light, just around the two of you. Old friends, fighting for their lives, but they can still make the other smile, or laugh. It’s simply what friends can do.

Lukas hopes that he doesn’t leave this arena without you. He is praying to anyone that can hear his thoughts that if he watches you die, he’ll die too. It’s not like he has anything to go back to, anyway.

“Promise m-me something, for when you get h-home?” You asked, his curiosity piqued. “Promise me that you’ll take care of m-my family. My brother, make sure he d-doesn’t ever have his name in the bowl more than it h-has to be.”

He smiled. He hadn’t even thought about his own family, his mother. Probably because he didn’t consider her to be so, anymore.

“I promise, if I get out of here, I will.”

“T-thank you, Lukas.”

He leaned against you, his head resting on the tree while your own head was on his shoulder. You’d be perfectly content with dying if you could just drift away like this. Everything now was peaceful, and you’d left no stones unturned. Your family would be taken care of if Lukas lived, you know he’s good on his word. You know that having spoken with him, and even sitting here with him now, you will have resolved everything with him. There’s nothing else you need to know… except-

“Lukas?”

“Yeah?”

“W-why did you volunteer?”

He took a deep inhale beside you, then went stiff as the reasoning coursed through his mind. He could lie and say it was an impulsive mistake. He could come up with literally a million other things that would sound plausible for any kid on why they would do something so stupid. But he wasn’t any kid, and you weren’t just some bystander. You were his best friend. Either of you could die any moment, so he wanted to make sure you got nothing but the truth.

“The morning of the reaping, my mom and I had that argument,” he recalled. You nodded along, remembering the scene vividly. He hadn’t been himself until he’d gotten on a boat. The water always seemed to calm him down. “I’d been feeling better after work, but I went home to shower and get dressed.”

He stopped for a moment, his brow furrowing as he tried to bring it all back into recollection. The nasty look on his mother’s face, the way she swore at him and spewed her insanity. Thinking back to it now, him volunteering is just what she wanted. It would have been better to refuse volunteering out of spite.

“She told me I would never measure up to my father, and that there was no point in trying. When I asked her what she wanted from me, she told me she wished I had died in his place.”

Your hand immediately found his in a tight and reassuring grip when you heard this. It was just like his mother to go off and say some shit like that. Something that would scar him the rest of his life and force him to go immeasurable lengths, and for what?

“I told her I would volunteer if she wanted me dead so badly. She said I might as well, because it would be the only way to bring some pride back to our family. The sad thing is, I didn’t regret it until they called your name…”

“I’m s-so sorry,” you whispered to him, barely heard above the humming and buzzing of the rainforest. You clung to him, hoping that this could bring the smallest semblance of comfort in a place that exudes horror and danger. He clung right back to you, being still in your embrace as it was one of normalcy. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hug you, or look at you, or talk to you. Even simply being in your presence wasn’t something he was going to take for granted, because he knew that soon, he would never be able to again, whichever way it went.

The day continued on, and the sun was setting much faster than you would ever anticipate. Probably because it wasn’t a real sun, and any glimpse of normalcy was non-lasting. It couldn’t be, because there had to be reminders that this was not the wilderness, and you were not safe. You would die any second. There were only four tributes remaining. You could imagine that things were getting tense back in the capitol. You couldn’t imagine the kid from eleven had garnered much of a fan base with Lukas being the prized tribute this year. You doubted the girl from one was getting any special attention, either. Not that they needed it. Estelle was most definitely the most qualified remaining tribute, a career who has trained for this moment all her life… but still, you’re sure Lukas will win it from her.

While walking in the marshy rainforest, you’re quickly reminded how easily this game can end.

You hear a branch snap a bit down the trail behind you, and you freeze.

“Lukas…” you whisper, drawing the knife from your hip.

He heard another branch, and turned his head, the boy named Brock from eleven quickly approaching, with Estelle on his heels. Whether or not she was chasing him, no one could be sure, but they both had a determined look in their eye, and all it took was one word for you to bolt ahead like lightning.

“Run.”

The branches below you snapped in half, the pressure of your rapid footsteps was intense enough to squash any animal or snake that dared slither into your path.

You could hear Lukas’ hard breath intake, as he was passing you every few seconds, then trailing a step behind, only to look back and make sure they weren’t gaining too quickly… except for they were. This was going to end in a face off, whether you liked it or not. You couldn’t run forever, and it was just a matter of time. You were ready to die, and you would protect Lukas.

You tripped over your steps, holding your hand out to stop Lukas in his tracks before he fell.

Well, at least you’d found the waterfall. The only downside is, you were at the top of it, having run onto a ledge that was at least a thirty foot drop into deep waters, raging from the pressure of the falls. There was no way you were making that jump without drowning. You’d probably have a heart attack on the way down and die before hitting the water.

“W-what do we do?” You turned to your counterpart, and he whipped his head back at the two approaching tributes.

“We’ve gotcha, now!” Estelle could be heard shouting, the sound getting far too close for comfort. It was now evident that they had been teamed up on this effort. “Nowhere to run!”

Lukas yanked your arm, pulling you beside him.

“Do you trust me?” he asked sincerely, the look in his eyes made you scared, like he was thinking irrationally, and he was… but it was all he could come up with.

“Yes,” you nodded, but grabbed his hand which was still on your arm. “Lukas?”

He didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t answer your call of his name. He didn’t even give you a second to understand what the hell he was about to do. He just did it.

Within a moment, gravity became your enemy, and you went flying backwards off the edge of the cliffside, arms and legs flailing as you screamed all the way down into the waters. You sucked in a quick breath before being fully submerged, hammered down by the constant onslaught of heavy water.

Lukas took off, running away while the others were distracted by your fall into the depths. He ran towards the forest again, trying to jump logs and dodge trees, anything that could make their path to him harder.

Brock was still looking over the edge, having been surprised by the play of events.

“Let’s go, we can’t let him get far,” Estelle pulled him by the shoulder, turning him to the rainforest patches again.

“What about the girl?”

Estelle scoffed, “We’ll hear a cannon in a few minutes, she can’t swim.”

And with that, they took off.

Immediately being in water, the panic set into your mind. You were clawing around, trying to make it out, reaching out for anything that you could use to pull yourself up… but with the pressure beating down over you, you sank deeper, and deeper, with no savior to jump in after you, now. This was it. This was the moment you had to choose.

Live, or Die.

Last time you chose to die, but there was nothing on the line. Lukas is on the line now. He is the only person you swore you were going to protect in this arena, and you had to find a way out of here if that was going to happen.

You tried to quiet your mind, to forget the past and just how much you hated being in this water. You were ignoring just how badly your arms ache while attempting to paddle to the surface. You forgot it all and remembered the boy you’ve known since childhood. You remembered all the times he stood up for you against the kids mocking your stutter. You remembered just how much he’s done for you and is still doing for you… and suddenly, your head breaks through the surface, and you’re able to crawl into the small cavern behind the waterfall.

You start heaving breaths, rapidly letting the air tear through your lungs, now that they had access to air in the first place. You smiled to yourself once you were able to get high enough on the rocks to stand. You survived. You’d been dealt a hand that was completely out of your favor and you managed to climb out and breathe the air around you.

Your excitement was immediately cut off when you heard a cannon sound.

You didn’t waste a minute in climbing the rocks as fast as you could, albeit a little clumsy from having wet hands and shoes. Your mind raced, and you hoped that your heart pounding would be eased, and you would be wrong about your suspicions.

“No, n-no,” you shook your head, running into the rainforest and looking around frantically. You took several turns, and couldn’t see anything or anyone, but you had your knife drawn anyway. You were practically panting by now, the heaviness in your breath never dwindling.

The minute you came to a clearing, your eyes falling on the person in front of you, your eyes watered with tears.

“Lukas,” you slid down to your knees next to his limp frame, pulling him into your lap to hold him. “Wake up. W-wake up, Lukas, I’m h-here.”

He didn’t budge, but as you rocked him, you were able to see the source of this tragedy, the trail of blood, streaming from his chest and over his body in gushes. It was all over your hands, and it was all over your arms. It was all over you. You were covered in his blood, just like you were covered in Rodey’s dried blood. You’d let another ally sacrifice themselves for you. You swore you wouldn’t.

This wasn’t just another ally, and this wasn’t just a tribute you’d met a week ago. This was the best friend you’d ever had. The person who grew up alongside you into a wonderful man. He was the person who comforted you when you felt too embarrassed to go to a family member. He was the boy who’d complimented you when no other boy would dare. He was the one who brought you shells every morning from his walk to the docks. And now he is the boy who’s blood you are covered in, crying over miserably.

You can’t bring yourself to part with him, to let him go. You know if you do, something different will become of you. Something you have never been before. So you don’t. You cling to him, and you cry, and you let the thunder that begins to rumble above you reflect your emotion. It’s been a day since it’s rained in this rainforest, but even still, the rain doesn’t pour, it only trickles slightly. Enough to remind you that despite this loss, and despite the fact that you will never be the same, you are still in this arena, and there is only one way out.

You raise your head, and hear another sound of a cannon. You look around, but there is no sign of movement or of other tributes.

There’s only one left, and despite what you’ve said since the moment you entered this God forsaken place, despite your morals, and despite these tributes not being your real enemy, there is only one thing on your mind, and you will not rest until you’ve attained it…

As you move to stand, you roll Lukas’ body on his back, placing his hands over his chest to be at rest. You hate that this is how his story ends. You want to bury him, you want to give him a proper memorial, but you know this arena will be scrapped by the capitol for next year’s use, and this spot will be desecrated soon after you arrange it. So you’ve decided you will raise a memorial of him back home, when you arrive there.

Your tears are still running hot, but there’s a new fire under them that hadn’t been there before. There’s an anger you’ve never felt before. There’s a glint in your eyes that will not be satisfied.

You turn your head at the familiar sound of an incoming parachute, the contents of the container seem to be large, as there’s an entire box being lowered in. You watch it fall to the ground, in disbelief at the sheer size of it alone. It comes up to about your knees, and you wonder, what could Finnick have sent me?

You flick open the top, and immediately see the contents of the inside. Rope, lots and lots of rope. Several carabiners are included that could be used for rock climbing, but you know, and he knows, that’s not what you have in mind.

You pick up the note, two little wet spots appearing from the tears in your eyes, and the rain from above.

Show no Mercy… - F

tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart @lilibrn

#finnick imagine #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair thg #thg finnick #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick x you #hunger games #sam claflin x reader #sam claflin

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selfproclaimedunicorn · 25 days

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Write me a fic: Per our convo yesterday. I must ask for Regency!Griffith and his meltdown over falling in love in the most reforming your local Rake type way 🧍‍♂️🫡

this 100000000% got away from me & it is now only tangentially what you asked for. I mean, what you asked for is in there, but I couldn't decide which idea I liked more so I had to string them together & now it's a 4.6k word monstrosity.

Griffith paced, mind addled so that he coursed with the nervous energy that apparently plagued most of the men from his mother’s side of the family. It was as unfair as his current situation. “If you keep that up, you’ll wear a rut into the floor.” Aegon mused as he lifted his glass of brandy, examining the amber liquid in the light streaming through the windows of Thorn Hall’s parlor. He’d made himself quite comfortable, sprawled out on one of the sofas to the point he’d made Griffith’s discarded coat slide off the arm and onto the floor. He stopped and stared at his cousin, gray eyes wide with indignation and the wild concern that so preoccupied him. Aegon giggled over the rim of his snifter before downing more than was even half appropriate for a single sip. Griffith clenched his fists, every muscle in his hands flexing. “Would it kill you to be serious for five minutes?!” He snapped. Annoyance with his best friend could at least be identified and be used as an easy target to let out the building steam of whatever issue had his stomach in knots.

“You’re well and truly in a hobble, aren’t you?” Aegon sat up properly now, “Tell me what the trouble is.”

“Mya Redfort is the trouble. At this point in seduction, I would have at least gotten my cock sucked, and yet she is resisting every attempt at anything further than flirtation–it isn’t like I have not charmed her, but I am getting nothing from it!”

Aegon set his snifter on a low table near the sofa and leaned forward, a contemplative look on his face as he rested his chin in his hand, a finger tapping at his cheek. He’d only been married for a year, a decision reached in the immediate aftermath of their friend-and-cousin’s marriage to his sister, and his own previously similar behavior and thought patterns still rang fresh in his mind. Griffith began pacing again, running a hand through his dark brown curls as he tried to puzzle out his problems with and about Mya Redfort.

“I feel sick. Why is nothing working? You will tell me plainly if I have lost my edge, won’t you?”

“You? Griff, you could never lose your edge! What you need to do, is you just need to shift focus. Mya isn’t receptive, so there is no reason to keep going back. Why not set your sights on that Linderly girl with the–”

Griffith stopped his pacing immediately, his stare hard when he looked at his friend again. “How dare you.”

It was silent in the room after that, Aegon blinking slowly as Griffith felt his stomach drop. Realization set in far too late, and he hated it. Or, no–vexed as he was, he could not hate anything that had to do with Mya.

“One Miss Redfort has tamed her local rake it would seem.” Aegon pressed his lips together to try and stifle it, but all he managed was making his grin look ridiculous and tight.

He pointed at his friend, eyes blown wide once more. “Egg–”

“Welcome to the brotherhood! Interesting one to be a part of, quite cozy though. Provides for a very reliable–”

“I am not going to make a fool of myself over Mya like you did with Abrogail.”

“I did not make a fool of myself!” He stood up, squaring his shoulders to try and make himself look more imposing. It did not do a terribly effective job when he was trying to stand toe to toe with Griffith. Aegon was a good five inches shorter and cut a far less dramatically proportioned figure.

“You could not eat, you could not sleep. You eloped with her weeks after Stannis married your sister because you knew whatever Aunt Alicent was trying to arrange to curb your appetites would not make you as happy as they looked. I sat in this very parlor and watched you carry on in calf-love like some kind of barely grown boy-man who'd never known a woman in his life!”

It was silent in the parlor again as all the bluster slowly left Aegon. He sucked his teeth, hands coming to his hips as he looked up at the ceiling.

“I did carry on, didn't I?”

“Yes.”

He paused again, his gaze leveling with Griffith’s once more. Aegon worked his jaw, just as contemplative as before, and then his lilac eyes lit up. Something had struck him, and all Griffith could do was hope that it was brilliant.

“I do not know how much longer I can hold out.” Mya moaned as she slid further down into the chair beside Rhea’s dressing table, her dress riding up to show her ankles and the pink, embroidered slippers she wore.

“It is taking so much longer to get Griffith to fall for you than it feels like it should be.” Abby mused, her elbow propping on her crossed arm so she could put her cheek in her hand. She furrowed her brows, her small mouth pursing into a thoughtful pout.

“My brother is not so easy to wrap around one's finger as Aegon was,” Adrienne rebutted, her tone harsh and clipped, “he is as pig-headed as our mother.”

“I’d be surprised if he was even capable of being aware of any feelings he developed for someone.” Aerea’s words were softer, more airy, than her twin sister’s. That was the only indication the older of them was even paying attention, she seemed more preoccupied with walking her fingers up one of the poster’s of Rhea’s bed.

“You talk as if Griffith has ever felt anything more complex for a woman than lust or brotherly protectiveness,” Rhea said.

Aerea shrugged and leaned against Rhea, her trail up the bedpost left abandoned. “I know him well enough to guess.”

“If the two of you only have negative things to say about your brother, why are you helping me to win his committed affection?”

“Because we like you, and you mean a good deal to our cousins.” Aerea was still leaning hard against her.

“And because it will be better for our brother in the long run if he settles down, and better for us if he stops tarnishing the reputation of our half of the family. I don’t want to be the sister of the man who has ruined every woman he comes in contact with.”

“I am sure it has nothing to do with how good and romantic a story Griffith’s taming would make, right Adrienne?” Rhea teased, bringing color to her cousin’s cheeks. She turned away quickly, trying to hide her flush from the room full of women.

“Friendship with Rhea and Helaena and Abby, and not sullying your debuts with his reputation, and good stories; right, good, motivations in order. Can someone please help me figure out how to make Griffith Tyrell fall in love with me so I can stop pining? I want to kiss him so badly that I am fit to burst, and you two said I should not even do that!”

“Because that is how he will ensnare you, and the next thing you know you are one more in his long string of abandoned lovers, and no one gets what they want except him.”

Mya sighed tiredly. She was resigned to something, although Rhea could not be sure if it was to “her fate” of eternally trying to win Griffith over, or to subjecting herself to whatever the twins told her to do. Whichever it was, both would be over soon. He was as stubborn as his sisters said, that much was true, but he was not completely without all good sense. If Abby had been able to win Aegon over and reform him from his rakish ways, then Mya could do the same for Griffith. He was no worse, he was just craftier and less aware of his own heart.

“What we need to do is plan one big, grand moment that will make him realize if he has fallen for you or not. If we can make this Griffith’s idea, and if he becomes aware of it all at once, he will have to do something about it. That is his way after all,” Rhea proposed.

“Rhea is right!” Aerea sat up all at once, making her wince as she shouted. She shoved her younger cousin's shoulder, grumbling how she hurt her ears.

“Oh, yes!” Abby perked back up at that, her pout turning into a grin that spread across her freckled face, “That is brilliant, Rhea. Between all of us, we will find a way to make Griffith jealous.”

“I did not say to make him jealous.” Rhea clarified, skeptical of Abby’s trail of thought.

“No, but what better way to go about your suggestion is there?” She rebutted, doubling down on her plan of playing to Griffith’s jealousy.

Rhea ran her tongue over her teeth. There wasn't a better way; her father, Aegon, Aemond, even Stannis; none of them were immune to such feelings, so neither was Griffith. Surely. So if there was a surefire way to know if all their long attempts at getting him to love Mya in a truer way than he told all the other young women had paid off while he simply stubbornly clung to the known of his old ways, it would be to see if he got possesively jealous towards her affections.

“Alright Abrogail, what do you propose?”

“Nothing yet, we need a place and time for me to really get a good plot that is likely to work.”

“The ball Lady Johanna is hosting to try and suss out good matches for her girls,” Mya offered, her tone so casual it could have been an off-handed remark, “because it is not like her husband is trying terribly hard to look.”

“Because Lord Jason Lannister is a man with very little going on in his mind beyond his own importance,” Adrienne quipped. Her opinion of her third cousin mirrored every other member of her grandmother’s family, and if it was not so funny to see him live up to those opinions by bumbling through social interactions, a trifle disguised and riding high off his own pomp, Rhea would have felt bad for the man.

“Oh, yes! That is perfect!” Abby took a few steps away from where Mya sat, her hands clasped in front of her chest as a dreamy look entered her eyes, “We will all make sure you are absolutely incomparable, and as soon as we have eyes on Griffith and know he is aware of your presence, you will dance with someone else. A big show must be made of it too, he must see you can easily replace his spot on your dance card. All of the spots, even! He shan’t even have a chance with you tonight unless he begs, because Mya Redfort is not so easily won over.”

“I like your plan, but what if whoever I dance with instead gets the wrong idea and thinks I do want to replace Griffith?”

“Dance with Stannis. The threat of you being willing to do something besides pining for Griffith the whole night is still there, but he is already married and is head-over-heels for Helaena.”

“Rhea, that is so brilliant I could kiss you!”

“Remember Baldric, subtlety is key.” Griffith whispered in his younger cousin's ear before gently pushing him in the direction of the Lannister girls. Whether Baldric was determined to follow in his and Aegon’s footsteps, or start off as seriously as his brother did not matter. Subtlety in his advances and flirtations had served Griffith well, and so it would serve his young protege as he was thrust onto society.

Griffith only made a brief glance towards his cousin as he greeted Lady Johanna's two oldest girls; he was interested in Baldric's progress, but he could hear about it later. He had plans for the night…or well, he had Aegon’s plans (their wording altered slightly so as to be about Mya Redfort instead of Abrogail). This night was for pulling out all the stops, for wooing his blonde beauty and finally winning a kiss “to spur him” into telling her how besotted he was–as if he were so overcome in the moment he had to tell her right then, and had not been fretting for two days over his sudden reform.

Griffith breezed through the crowd, gray eyes sweeping across every gathered face until he saw her. Her gown was red, it usually was at these sorts of functions, with puffed white sleeves and a bodice that seemed to act more as a shelf to push her breasts up than anything else. Tight, blonde curls framed her face, and a comb with red roses held her bun in place. He would have thought Mya looked beautiful at any given point on a Tuesday morning, flushed from laughter at some conspiratorial secret she shared and in one of the day dresses she always wore, her gloveless fingers stained from eating too many raspberries, but tonight she made Griffith nearly forget to breath. If it were not improper, he would be her partner for every dance so that no one else could.

He plucked two champagne flutes from the tray a servant held as he passed by on his way to where Mya stood with his cousins. Appearing effortlessly out of the crowd, her first drink of the night already on offer, was all part of the plan. It was not Griffith being a besotted fool like Aegon.

“Miss Redfort.”

Her green eyes, already large and expressive, were wide as she looked up at him. Mya was already flying her colors, her cheeks subtly red and undoubtedly warm. Her pretty, pink mouth opened with a false start, and she pressed her lips together for a thoughtful moment before properly saying anything.

“It is very good to see you this evening, Mister Tyrell,” her eyes flickered to the glass he held out towards her, “and it is thoughtful of you to already be seeing to my needs.”

“I am nothing but thoughtful. And in my thoughtfulness, I came to the idea that, once you were done of course, I could have the honor of your first dance of the evening.”

“My first dance has already been promised to Stannis.”

His head whipped towards his cousin, who looked a bit bewildered for a moment. Then, Stannis’s eyes met Griffith’s, and an easy smile (an expression that would have looked as at home on his younger brother) spread across his face. He had been told the plan, both he and Baldric had because it was the way of things, Stannis knew Griffith was to woo Mya as an excuse to tell her everything. Surely he would not dare be overcome by one of his rare moods of mischief now. His having no taste for “such games” could not mean he would throw a rub in the way, because that would be participating.

“Indeed it has. Sorry, Griff.”

Helaena slipped her hand from the crook of Stannis’s elbow, and he offered his hand to Mya. Griffith seethed as his lady placed her hand atop his cousin’s and let herself be led away. Rhea and Abby giggled as they leaned into each other, and his mouth turned down into a tight, visible frown. Neither of those two were getting the champagne, that was certain, and so Griffith shoved it towards Stannis’s wife. Helaena either did not know or did nor care about what was going on, and happily took the delicate flute of sparkling wine from him.

Rhea grinned, every bit as smug as any of Griffith’s company was capable of. “Why, Griffith–”

He did not wait for whatever Rhea was going to say, silently stalking further into the ballroom so as to continue watching Mya and Stannis. And heavens but Mya was graceful, even if she was dancing with another man. Griffith’s nose scrunched, that should be him she glided about with. What good was a dance with Stannis, anyhow? He was married already and not even half the catch Griffith was. Or, no, that was a disservice to both Helaena and, under circumstances where his head was clearer, his friend; Stannis was not half as good a catch for Mya. He was perfect for Aegon’s sister though, strange as she might be at times.

“You are upset.”

“Shit!” He startled so that champagne sloshed over the rim of his glass. Griffith would never know if it was not being able to hear Helaena’s approach over the music and the gossip, or if it was just her silent skulking that made her able to sneak up on him.

“You are not doing a good job at hiding it,” she continued, voice bland and matter-of-fact, “you never do. You should not be surprised I noticed.”

“I’m not surprised you–shouldn’t you be giggling with Rhea and Abrogail?”

“I do not think what they’re giggling about is funny.”

“Fair enough.”

“It does seem to have worked though.” Helaena said before taking a sip of the champagne that had been meant for Mya.

“What worked?”

“Abrogail’s plan to make you jealous for Mya’s attention; something about you not noticing feelings, and grand conspiracies they all came up with. It all seems silly to me, and I doubt Stannis would have danced with Mya if he knew.”

They could not have schemes, he had schemes! Throwing propriety to the wind in a move that would have probably made Aegon proud, Griffith downed the whole flute of champagne in one go, finishing it just in time to thrust the now empty glass into the hands of one of the Lannister’s butlers. If Mya was going to try and make him jealous in some gambit to–fiend seize it, who even knew what her gambit was! Either way, two could play at this game, and at the end of the night one of them would get whatever it was they wanted.

“Helaena, would you like to dance?”

“I shall pretend I could not hear you, and that way no one can be offended.”

“I’m offended.”

“At this moment, I don’t think you count.”

Griffith scoffed, even more offended now. What had he done to her?! It was not like he’d ever flirted with Helaena, Stannis had wanted her since they were boys and it would not have been right.

“I don’t want to join whatever games you and Mya are playing at, and I don’t think you should even be engaging in them in the first place. They do not make any sense” Helaena paused to take another sip, and then continued, “you are not dimwitted, although you are acting a bit like it right now, you know how Mya feels about you, Griffith. She feels how every woman you’ve charmed feels about you, and you know how you feel–”

“And how do I feel, Helaena?”

“More strongly than you would ever want to let on, if you actually rising to the bait means anything.” And it did, she knew it did, because Stannis’s wife was obnoxiously insightful. Griffith did not respond, he let her stew in how right she was in silence, and after a moment, Helaena continued.

“I don’t know why you cannot just tell her.”

“Because…because.”

She blinked slowly, her light purple eyes boring into him with all the intensity his sister Aerea’s eyes ever carried, or his Uncle Aemon’s. She was waiting for a justification that would not come, because Griffith wasn’t sure there was one.

“So there is no reason you cannot tell her how you feel towards her, just as I said. And you must know that you never telling her will get neither of you what you desire, and that should she move on because you never commit, that you will never be as happy in your rakish behavior as you were before all of this nonsense that has been going on all season ever since you failed to get Mya into your bed the first time.”

“How does Stannis tolerate you always being right?”

“He does not ‘tolerate’ anything, he likes it.”

Griffith and Helaena stood silently next to each other after that, the both of them watching the dancers sweep across the floor. He watched Stannis and Mya, still burning with jealousy because of his infuriating cousins. Helaena probably watched everyone, or if she was watching Stannis and Mya it was not because of jealousy, but because of how well she liked him.

He took his first steps when the final few notes of the dance began, he knew all of the music from these balls as well as he knew the back of his own hand, or as well as he knew how to elicit sweeter sounds from whatever woman he’d set his sights on. Mya Redfort in this case, and in all the cases for the rest of his life. Because apparently these sorts of things were inevitable for his family.

“Miss Redfort.”

“Oh! Mister Tyrell,” she smiled up at him, just as teasing as it always was these past three months, but more knowing than coy, “I presume you are here for that dance? I shall have to check my card, I believe it is already full, or nearly at least.”

“We must talk.” He cut in quickly before she could continue, his hand involuntarily coming to rest on her upper arm. Her cheeks went red again, brighter than before, and an increasingly familiar spark of hope shone in her green eyes.

“Must?”

“It is important, gravely so…please.”

“Alright.” Her voice was soft as a breath, and Griffith dropped his hand to offer Mya his arm. She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, and her smile betrayed her excitement. Mya had fully convinced herself she was getting exactly what she wanted how she had planned to get it, but she didn’t because it was Helaena that got him to speak to her plainly, not whatever she had plotted with Rhea and Abby. Griffith at least had the satisfaction of that.

“I'll make sure Lady Johanna does not see the two of you leaving and send out a chaperone.” Stannis whispered before side-stepping between two gathering groups of dancers and making his way back into the throng of guests in the ballroom. He was a good and reliable chap when nerves or a bout of humor that came at someone else's expense did not overtake him.

Mya clung to Griffith’s arm as they made their way through the ballroom and out the side door that led into the manor’s grounds. The gardens at Casterly weren't much in comparison to Thorn Hall, but they were nice enough, and it wasn't like the pair of them were there to take in the scenery. They remained silent when they stopped in front of the fountain, the only sound the quiet splash of water from the lion's mouth falling into the basin at its stone paws.

Coming up with what to say had felt easy when he schemed with Aegon, it was so much more intimidating to think of what to tell Mya when saying plainly how he felt loomed before him. Griffith had never been so true in any of the pretty words he so easily spun for the women who came before her, and now that he meant everything it felt like every word he’d ever known left him. Mya brought her hands to clasp in front of her chest and turned to face him, it was now or never.

“This evening has not gone at all how I planned it to, but it has still brought me to the ending I wanted…or at least something similar.”

“Us being alone together hardly constitutes you having your way.”

“I did not bring you here to–blast and damnation–Mya Redfort, I love you!”

“Truly?” Even though this was what she'd wanted, she sounded surprised and disbelieving. Mya, it would seem, had not planned this far either.

“Deeply, madly. For months I have thought about, have wanted, no one but you. It is as if you have bewitched me…and it frightens me. I do not know what to do with such sincerity, except to offer it to you and hope you will have it. And–and hope you will have me; mind, body, soul, whatever you desire of me, Mya, you shall have it. I would not want to give myself to anyone else.”

“Oh…oh, Griffith,” her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she smiled all the same, “I love you too. I have loved you.” There was weight there. She’d been harboring such affections for him for months at least. Had it been years? He hoped not, Griffith did not like the thought of Mya silently pining as he flirted and fucked his way through dozens for three years; disappointing her as he carried on so. No, he would banish the thought. It didn't matter now. This moment was all that mattered.

He gently cupped her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. “Would you marry me, if I asked?”

“I would. And…and would you stay and still mean all of what you said if I let you kiss me?”

“Wild horses could not drag me away.” His gaze did not break from Mya’s as his hand slid from her soft cheek to her jaw, his thumb resting under her chin so he could tilt her head back. Her eyes were wide and wanting, and she parted her lips as Griffith leaned down to kiss her.

Mya kissed him back, firm and hungry, as her hands came to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his coat as if that would hold him in place forever. As if she needed to go to that much effort.

They were breathless when the kiss broke, and Griffith put his forehead against hers as he gently ran his thumb over her lower lip. His other hand went to her waist, and he wanted desperately to pull her as close as he could, to guide Mya into grinding against him.

“I love you, Mya.” No amount of times he could tell her would be enough to satisfy him.

“Enough to kiss me again?”

“For that and more.” He did as she bid, teasingly brief, as his hand dropped from her jaw and came to hold her waist like his other. Mya pressed her lips together into a tight frown, her brows furrowing over her pretty green eyes. She released his coat and held his face now, pulling Griffith’s mouth down into hers to kiss him how she had meant.

He smiled into the kiss, truly being in love only changed a handful of things really, and walked Mya backwards until her knees hit the basin of the fountain. She sat there, dragging Griffith with her so he loomed over her.

He leaned on one arm, his hand flat against the smooth stone of the fountain basin and placed close enough to Mya that his thumb was against her hip. His other hand came to her thigh, giving it a brief squeeze through the satiny fabric of her red gown. Griffith would not push her for more than this, he could make himself be satisfied if she wanted to wait for their engagement or even their marriage for anything more intimate, but he could still relish in touching her and silently pray for more. He was still getting what he wanted after all: turning Mya Redfort into Mya Tyrell.

#my writing #regency au #asoiaf oc #hotd oc #hotd regency au #sotf extras #fic: sins of the father #sotf regency au #oc: griffith tyrell #the soft launch of ella's kids & it's griffith being Ultra Chad Regency Rake #and the twins being The Most Teen Girls Of All Time #asks

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mistresslrigtar · 7 months

Text

Chapter Nineteen: Secret (written of @zelinktines24 day 19 prompt)

Read below or HERE

Star’s escape and Tulin’s sudden arrival curtail any further discussion regarding the secret stones for the immediate future. Zelda still isn’t sure what she’ll say to Link, and is happy for the reprieve, especially when a knock on the door, reveals Riju standing on the other side. Beyond them, Riju’s entourage is already erecting a large, colorful tent that will be their quarters while they are in Akkala. Her guard, Buliara stands by the front stoop, spear in hand observing the operation and barking commands when the workers aren’t doing something to her satisfaction.

Riju throws herself at Zelda, her anklets and bracelets jingling pleasantly when she pulls Zelda in for a firm hug. “It’s so good to see you! Thank you for inviting us.”

Zelda doesn’t bother to correct her that it was Link’s initial idea, and smiles warmly at her friend when they part. “Of course. Please, come in. You must be tired from traveling. I’ll brew us some tea.”

Riju makes herself at home on a cushion by the table and gazes out the panoramic windows. “I’ve never been this far from Gerudo before. It’s so different out here — it feels wild and uninhabited.”

Aside from the garrison that had been stationed at the Citadel, there weren’t very many people in the past who made the region their home. Zelda has noted that the trend seems to be changing as travelers visiting Tarrey Town discover the beautiful, lush green countryside.

“It’s a hidden gem.” Zelda sets the kettle over the cooking fire, and rifles in the cupboard for the tea tin and her delicate porcelain cherry blossom tea set she reserves for special occasions.

“Indeed.” Riju turns away from the windows to watch Zelda work. “Where’s Link?”

“Oh, Tulin arrived yesterday, so Link took him out to show him the surrounding area and hunt. I imagine they’ll be back shortly.” Setting the tea set on a tray, Zelda sprinkles tea into the pot before removing the kettle from the heat and adding water. She carries it to the table and sits down before serving the tea.

Riju accepts the cup Zelda offers and plops several sugar cubes from the bowl in until Zelda is certain the sugar to tea ratio has dipped strongly in favor of the sweetener. Stirring it with a spoon, Riju takes a sip, lightly smacking her lips and declaring it delicious, before folding her arms on the table and leaning toward Zelda. “I’ve got a secret!”

“Oh, what’s that?” Riju’s excitement is infectious and Zelda smiles as she pours a splash of milk in her tea, forgoing any sugar.

Red lips curving into a big smile, Riju’s eyes brighten. “I’ve found my true love. Of course, Buliara doesn’t approve,”—Riju rolls her eyes—“but I don’t care what she thinks. My love’s name is Alaura, and she’s intelligent, strong and gorgeous. I don’t know how I ever managed before without her.”

True love. The words tumble over in Zelda’s mind. Riju makes it sound so simple and easy to be with the person she loves. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

Eyes brightening, Riju’s smile widens. “She’s helping set up camp, but I’ll introduce you and Link to her later. Speaking of, how are you two doing?”

“We’re all right…” Her eyes flick to Riju’s earring and sees her amber stone sparkling innocuously in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Link said he wanted to speak to their friends about the stones, so… “Link has asked me to consider destroying the secret stones. He’s afraid of them falling into the wrong hands again.”

“Hmmm.” Riju sets down her cup, and rests her chin on a closed fist, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “That is a troubling possibility, but you seem to disagree with him.”

“I am hesitant to take such a drastic action,” Zelda agrees, glad she decided to bring up the subject with Riju, and garner a third, perhaps more unbiased opinion. “Don’t you need it to utilize your gift fully?”

“No.” Riju reaches a hand to lightly finger the stone dangling from her ear. “Link is the one who helped hone and harness my gift. The stone merely allowed him to call upon my power when he was searching for you, and I wasn’t able to physically be by his side.”

Riju leans back on her cushion, her eyes thoughtful as she studies Zelda. “If it’s validation you’re looking for to help make the final decision, I agree that the risks outweigh any further benefit they offer. We didn’t need them before, and in the end, they aren’t what helped us defeat Ganondorf and his forces. It was teamwork, and that we have in spades, no?”

Zelda nods, realizing what Riju is saying is what Link had been trying to articulate yesterday. “When he suggested it, I shut down. I keep hoping I’ll sense Rauru or Sonia through the stone.”

Frowning, Riju’s brows pull together. “We’re in the land of the living, Zelda. The ghosts of the sages, Rauru and Sonia have done what was needed and hopefully, have found peace in the spirit realm.”

Riju’s words make Zelda pause, the rim of the cup at her lips, warm steam misting the skin beneath her nose. Her heart clenches in her chest, recalling the hurt look in Link’s eyes when she’d said she would have to think about it. Her consummate love for Link had initially unlocked her power, and now she realizes it was her filial love for Rauru and Sonia that had helped her hone it, not the stone. Love has always been at the core of her power. How could Zelda have forgotten that?

#legend of zelda #zelink #the legend of zelda #zelinktines24 #daily prompt #zelda angst #totk riju #tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #loz totk #loz botw

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cloveroctobers · 2 years

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SPEND IT / holiday edition?

A/N: haven’t done one of these pieces in awhile and I should at least do one once a year? Maybe. Idk. My ask box is still on hiatus but I felt inspired to write for this time around—also I’m sick with a sinus infection and needed a break from binge-watching shows lol. Also based on the we’re not really strangers couple or relationship edition questions? + stream coco jones 🫶🏽 + NOW EDITED and I hope you enjoy this!

OJ HAYWOOD

Black Friday’s didn’t include much planning unless you dragged OJ out from the ranch to do so. He was always up at the crack of ass anyways…so you didn’t see what the issue was when it came to being in stores to catch a deal. Nonetheless it still irritated him, that man hated being around people too long and obviously preferred hanging with his horses.

However he’d tolerate it for a hour or two just to be with you.

You’ve been together for three years—long distance but been the best of friends since middle school. A lot had changed since you came back from Alaska, learning about this new found species? that took over Agua Dulce had your mind spinning, especially as a biologist.

You missed out on all of it and couldn’t be there during the lost of Otis Sr. due to the snow storms in Alaska, lack of flights and by the time you got back home…you were there for the aftermath. Which meant getting all the details and wondering if the lab you worked for had any further information. Of course they did. Most importantly, you wanted to be there for OJ but he seemed to brush it off, as if it was just another obstacle on the Haywood ranch.

He knew he could be vulnerable with you but it’s not something he wanted to do. It’s not something OJ simply did. You couldn’t recall a time OJ ever got emotional—even when his mother passed back as a child and to learn that it didn’t change as a adult was interesting.

What did change was the amount of eyes OJ had on him now. It was Emerald’s idea to have the four of you participate in this questionnaire that would be filmed, you know like those ones you see on YouTube? Emerald and Angel would be paired while you and OJ would be together. At first everyone assumed it was some interview to get further information on Jean Jacket but Emerald convinced you all that it wasn’t. It would be like gathering around for another round of “Friendsgiving,” she threw yesterday.

Except you would all get a check at the end of the session.

“As if you need more money,” OJ muttered on the drive to the studio.

Em smacked her lips, “why wouldn’t I? No, why wouldn’t all of us? We have to catch the bag especially with the way inflation is treating us. You’re welcome, negro!” She slapped the back of his headrest while OJ just hummed.

You were only participating because you knew OJ wouldn’t do it otherwise. You even took off work to be here and to be honest, it didn’t hurt to have extra money in your pocket for the upcoming holidays. However you got what OJ was hinting at since those pictures and interviews not long after the Jean jacket incident went viral. And Emerald Haywood was all about the business; if she was eating good, so was the rest of her people, period.

Which brought you to this very moment. You could tell OJ was ready to go home after the first round of questions. He didn’t understand why it had to take over a half hour to get the both of you ready and set up. Plus those bright lights were so hot that OJ had to toss his hat onto the table fifteen minutes into shooting.

It was your turn to start the first question to the second round, “What type of social situations make you feel the most awkward?” You read off the card, watching as OJ lolled his head around to look at you.

His large round eyes gave you a look as he sat up straight in the chair now. He drummed his fingers against the table pretending to think about it, “Situations exactly like this one.”

“You guys walked right into that.” You laughed, glancing at the camera and then a few of the camera crew.

A woman added, “Can you please elaborate?”

OJ sighed pressing his elbows into the table, “I don’t care to be in social situations like that. If you haven’t noticed I’m not a big talker and this is probably the most y’all got me to talk today. I can go a whole day without saying much and be fine with it. Put me in a bar and people start conversations with me there, awkward. I used to go to bars with my late father and he had no issue chatting with anyone there. Me? I’m ready to go after one drink. Send me to the store? I don’t browse, I go there for a reason, get what I need to and I’m going back home. I don’t need all eyes on me given what I’ve just been through and ‘specially right now. It’s uncomfortable and the only reason I didn’t get up after level one and leave is because of my honey that’s sitting right across from me.”

The room went silent as OJ voiced exactly what he was feeling. Those that didn’t know him would feel like this was a outburst but you knew better as his frame visibly relaxed after he said his peace. His eyes went back to yours as you placed the card to the pile and reached out for one of his hands. OJ’s ebony calloused but warm hand gave yours a nice squeeze as you dipped your head at him.

“You okay to continue baby? Or you wanna scram? I’m sure they have enough content from us to edit.” You asked while OJ gave out a brief turn of his lips.

OJ thanked you with his eyes, “Mm. I’ll ask a question to you before we do. Cool with you?”

“Sure.”

He tilted his head with a nod before holding a card up to his eyes to read, not caring what the crew thought at this point, “what would you change about the world?”

Taking a deep inhale, your mind scrambled with multiple options. The mistreatment of the environment would be the most simplest answer.

OJ always loved watching you as your brain tried to process everything you were thinking. It was almost as if he could see the light bulbs in your eyes as they scanned for a answer from your brilliant brain.

A smile erupted on your own lips as you said, “I’d change everything it’s done to you.”

OJ immediately pulled the back of your hand up to his lips. He didn’t need you to further explain like he knew the film crew was expecting, your words attached to the genuine light in your eyes was all he needed to make his heart swell. He’d wouldn’t tell you that but he showed you with a kiss to your skin.

JESSIE “JR” RAYMOND

What started out as a light hearted segment during what this production called, “round one,” quickly shifted as you sat across your boyfriend of a few months.

You didn’t want to hear anyone call you a bad sport (since you weren’t keen on this whole idea in the first place) so you showed up. It also put you at ease because you would be doing these questions with JR which you had no knowledge of thanks to Nate. You assumed it would be you versus which ever friend production pulled out a hat or whatever Nate told them.

It was Friendsgiving after all but you weren’t complaining! You considered JR your friend who you easily fell in love with but always fell back because it wasn’t the right timing. You only just got around to being friends your senior year of high school and you never thought you’d be friends with a whole ass jock. It wasn’t really your scene not after you’ve seen plenty do your friends dirty…yes that means you were bias but JR so happened to be different.

Which meant he had shameless girls falling over and after him. You vowed not to be one of them despite your own mother, aunties, and your own “Christian,” grandmother telling you to get JR on lock as soon as you could. Like? Why couldn’t you just be friends? He had such a good heart, you knew that but it took you going to college together the first two years to want that heart full-time.

JR cleared his throat, his eyes flicking up to meet yours underneath his eyelashes. You knew from the expression on his face that this was serious or it could be him putting on a dramatic effect. However usually a smile broke as he got the question out but that face did not change as he held the card.

“Will I find your ex on your instagram/facebook feed? Why or why not?” JR flicked the card onto the table as you laughed a little.

“What’s funny?”

“I’m only on Instagram and Twitter. I deleted my Facebook after some country ass great-uncles got creepy and their girlfriends got mouthy like we’re not related so…no.” You started while JR carefully took in your words.

You reached out to run a hand up JR’s clothed sleeve as you kept smiling, “y’all got my man stressed over this and for what? I don’t nearly have as many exes as Jessie…”

“Don’t deflect, baby. Stay on track, please.” JR encouraged while you rolled your eyes.

“For Twitter no. I don’t know if they follow me or not and I don’t want to take the time to find out,” you continued, “I know for sure I don’t follow them. I had one or two request on Instagram but i didn’t feel like it was necessary to allow that. Even before JR and I decided to be official. Those relationships didn’t end bad or anything like that but that’s the past and I don’t need to know what’s they’re doing in their daily lives. I wish them well though but I’m focused on my life and what I have going on.”

“Well alright,” JR was all grins then while you shook your head at him in disbelief.

Then the film crew had to stir the pot, “what about you JR? Would they find any of your exes on your feed?”

JR stopped smiling then which made you quirk up a brow before you glanced at your gel-x nails.

“Uh—it’s kinda similar to my baby’s Twitter but with Instagram. My page isn’t on private though and anyone can follow me and I do have more relationships than them. So yeah I have exes from high school that still follow me and I follow them. I haven’t unfollowed them because I’m now in a relationship.” JR was honest with his answer.

You now toyed with JR’s initial necklace that was now on your neck as he said this.

“Does this bother you?” One of the film crew asked.

Lifting your shoulders you replied, “this wasn’t my question for JR but…not really? I’m secure in our relationship, although it’s fresh but we’ve been friends for a couple of years now and I have faith in us. I feel like I know him well enough to not think negatively about what he maybe thinking about his past encounters. That’s a closed chapter. I’m the new one. Therefore, I’m not going to demand what he does on his account. Simple.”

“We solid.” JR confirmed, holding his hand out for dap.

You did your signature handshake, “real bad but we’re not gonna ignore the double standard here. That’s a private conversation for another day.”

JR dipped his head, now looking at you a bit sheepishly, “Agreed.”

Plucking up a card you read off your question to your boyfriend, “What could you have done better in your previous relationship(s)?”

Huffing to yourself you placed it down. You wondered if these questions were instigating anything between your friends too because it definitely seemed like they were trying to start something between you two. However the both of you knew how to handle yourselves quite well.

“Communication,” JR told with furrowed brows as he said this, “most definitely. I had that issue all throughout high school when it came to disagreements and was ready to call it quits with a swiftness. The childishness was so bad at fourteen.” He laughed to himself before saying, “I even struggled with that in my last relationship freshman year in college.”

You knew of this situation and empathized with it. It was not your relationship to pass judgment on but you were there when JR broke it off and seen how hurt he had been. It pained him even further when he learned the truth and how he felt like he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend. Ultimately to know what his ex had truly been through and how she would live with that for the rest of her life, bothered him.

He shut her out because of his assumption and lack of communication.

“How’s the communication going between you two?”

JR lifted his brows, searching your eyes for this answer. He didn’t want to say something when you may not feel the same.

Keeping your eyes on JR’s you spoke, “we take the time to. I actually think Jessie’s great at it, he really listens to understand and not listen to speak since you know how there’s people like that? Not my man.” You winked making JR slowly beam at you, “He also knows how to ask open ended questions when we really need to discuss something.”

“Yes, I learned a little something something in my behavioral course.” JR smiled, “they’re a different communicator though. It’s lots of non-verbal cues I have to pick up on to get a sense if talking is what is needed at the time. We kinda just know what works after being around each other for a bit.”

You mirror his smile.

“So it’s all peaches and cream?”

JR glanced at the crew, sensing what you were feeling as the conversation shifted this round. He wasn’t sure if it was to get content or was the purpose truly trying to get the both of you to get closer. To connect. However that phrase felt…shady as you would say. Y’all were being open with complete strangers so why was it feeling like no one in the room was rooting for you when they didn’t know you?

“Yeah,” JR refrained from turning his eyes into slits at the main person that was prying, “and if it isn’t? We’ll do our damn best to figure it out because that’s what a team does.”

He turned back to you, watching as you got up to sit down in his lap, arms slipping around his neck. You two shared a slow peck solidifying that as his hands rested on your waist.

“Team work makes the dream work.” You stated staring into his eyes briefly, before looking back at the crew as JR placed a kiss along your jaw.

“Yes ma’am, you’re my dream.”

You face JR again, knowing he meant that as you caressed his brows; staring down at his lips knowing he was awaiting another kiss.

“We’re being corny.” You mumbled, knowing you were still attached to a mic but it didn’t matter.

JR lightly gripped your jaw as he shrugged, “I know but we still cute though.”

Which earned him a laugh and another kiss.

LANDO JOHNSON

“What did the people who raised you teach you about love?”

Lando let out a low whistle as you read the question. You chuckled to yourself reaching for the glass of water to cater to your growing sore throat. Just imagine being sick around turkey day? What the hell were you supposed to enjoy without your throat hurting? Cranberry sauce?

“Oh, we getting deep huh sweetheart.” Lando rubbed his hands together, before glancing upwards at the lights in thought.

“Times two.” You held up a peace sign, making Lando laugh as he watched you.

Lando fell silent, pressing his elbows into his upper thighs as he thought about his parents marriage. “I’m a military brat, my father is a marine and plans on retiring as soon as I graduate and go pro. So we’re all supposed to accept change but my mother? She wasn’t like that. She hated change and was your typical Georgia peach. Georgia is all she’s ever known so when she met my dad she wasn’t willing to go over all the place, she liked traveling but not if that meant she had to spend it alone. Once she got pregnant with me that stopped, she had seen enough and my mom was always set in her ways.”

Placing your hand on top of Lando’s for comfort you listened to what you already knew.

“My parents are complete opposites. My dad can be tough, disciplined, active, and prideful. My mother was a artist, one of her paintings is actually in the library at our university. She was quiet but stubborn, kind-hearted, and goofy at times…” Lando described the two that raised him, “They taught me that love is patient and love is not a need or a want.”

You felt like Willow at the red table talk as you listened to your boyfriend tell you this. Whenever you had conversations like these, lando can have you thinking about a lot and you admired that. He had a way with words and knew how to challenge you by looking at things from all perspectives.

In the end, not all things are one sided.

“How so?” You commented as his eyes found yours.

Lando used his free hand to caress his chin as he explained, “my dad would be off on duty in other countries while we stayed here in Georgia. To anyone on the outside it appeared as if that was what worked for them but I knew there were times that they both grew tired of this. Yet they were patient with each other, learned that together. However they taught me the difference between need and want. Need can be based around fear, and a lot of people feel like they can’t live without someone so they need them. Fear is the opposite of love, you shouldn’t be fearful in a relationship. Wanting gives them the freedom to leave but you still love them. When my mother got diagnosed…my dad and I both learned more about the need and want aspect.”

“Wow,” you breathed feeling like the two of you were the only ones in the room—which was often.

“My parents could live without each other and love with distance. I think that was the universe preparing them for my mother’s future departure. It all makes sense to me. To some it won’t but I know love can take work and isn’t always what you expect.” Lando finalized.

“Shout-out to Mr. And Mrs. Johnson.” You clapped it up for the pair while Lando just shrugged his shoulders with a grin.

Lando reached for his own card to read to you, “they’re pretty cool but I’m cooler right sweetheart?” He winked before he awaited your answer.

“You aight.” You teased while Lando shook his head and looked directly into the camera.

“We don’t rock with liars.”

“Oh, shut up.” You lightly kicked his foot underneath the table.

Lando inhaled trying to get comfortable in this ugly bamboo chair, “okay, croaky. I mean love—this is your question.”

Balling up your fist at the man you laughed, almost going into a coughing fit before he slid your water closer to you. Raising the glass you mouthed at the camera, ‘it’s not COVID.’

“So…how’s your heart today? Really?”

It was almost as if Lando had this question memorized with the way it said it with such ease. He didn’t even have to break eye-contact to ask this and seemed pretty intuitive to your response. Lando didn’t mind having chats like this and thrived on discussions, if he had something to say you were gonna hear it no matter what tone.

From the moment he started going to therapy after enduring panic attacks, he was pretty open about talking things out. He had his mother to thank for that, she didn’t allow him to bottle things up whereas his father preferred to get his frustrations out at the gun range instead. Which Lando knew wasn’t the healthiest since the military had this agenda that you had to be this stone cold person…he just accepted that was something his father wouldn’t change.

Don’t get the man wrong, his father knew when it was time to ask for help; once Lando started having panic attacks but that didn’t mean he didn’t let his pride lead the way in the beginning. And the man tried as Lando got older because Mr. Johnson also found that he needed someone to talk to too and what better person to do that than with their own son?

So yes Orlando Johnson did not mind having these conversations with someone he was spending time with.

He watched you intently, like he always did when you spoke. Just as much as your eyes shined watching him talk, his own heart felt fluttery? Whenever he looked at you.

“…somedays it’s like woooo I’m at the top of the world or a rollercoaster and then sometimes its like the drop from a rollercoaster then I’m feeling like a ogre crawling out some quicksand you know?” Your eyes were wide as you rambled, which made Lando chuckle as he zoned back in on your reply, “that’s that seasonal depression hitting but as for today? I’m a nice…I don’t know 6.5/10.”

“I receive that,” Landon said, “what can I do if anything to help make it better?”

“You’re already doing it, handsome.” You held out your glass to clink against Lando’s.

DAMON SIMS

There you two were sitting across from each other in the room with bright lights and cold air.

Damon was leaning towards you, elbows pressed into the table, while you leaned into your fist as if you were in some deep studying session and Damon was on the field ready for whatever.

“Damon, What question are you trying to answer in your life right now?”

Damon lifted his hands as he chewed on the back of his lip and then said, “how to continue moving forward in a lot of my relationships right now and what the rest of the year is gonna look like?”

You nodded your head, not shocked about this answer but felt a little worried. Did those relationships also include you? You knew most of that answer was based on Damon’s relationship with his father, although you knew he was ready to move on with his biological mom and proceeded to give the same treatment he felt his biological dad gave him when he gave him up, you knew damon still wanted answers.

“I got a lot going on although the gorgeous smile may have a lot of y’all fooled,” Damon peeked at the camera flashing a grin that you lightly shook your head at, the man couldn’t help but to let that ego out every now and then, “but I’m still human. I got shit to figure out and I know I don’t have to have it all planned but I need further direction by the end of this year. I already got my New Year’s resolution planned.”

“Will we be experiencing a New Year’s Eve kiss in the city?” You quizzed.

Damon scratched at his nose, “in cold ass New York? I might see something like a rat on skates when we’re in the moment so I dunno about all that doll.”

“See how I’m disrespected?” You tossed the card at Damon who laughed, “like I don’t cater to my man. Like I don’t have many ways to keep him warm. Damon thinks I’m gonna pull a shitty move like rose did Leo DiCaprio when I told him I’m not her.”

Damon pushed out his lips but didn’t miss a heartbeat, “let me tell y’all what she did. She made dinner for us the other night and while we were eating, her mom calls her on FaceTime right? She tells her mom that she made us Mac and cheese, asked me how I liked it and I said it was cool. Before I could even say anything further she tells her mom there’s cream cheese and onions in it. Her mom has her own successful catering business. Her mom starts to go off on her but she proceeds to tell momma that I made it and it wasn’t her! Guess who got cussed out that night? Now y’all tell me if you think she wouldn’t do me like rose?”

“Is this true?” The camera crew asked you.

Looking away over your shoulder, you curled a strand of hair behind your ear mumbling, “I’m sorry mom.”

“I need a apology too. I got the brunt of it.” Damon tried to catch your eye but you just fanned him off, “we not about to make it to New York with this stank-ness.”

“Whatever, you love me.”

“Sometimes, bro.”

You battled your eyelashes while Damon just let out a low sigh.

“When was the last time someone made you feel special on your birthday?”

“Birthdays that I remember?” You questioned.

“…we not twenty-one yet.” Damon whispered, while you mockingly covered your mouth.

“They don’t know if I got what Harriet Tubman had.”

“What?” Damon laughed, “I can’t deal with you.”

“Alright, alright,” you sighed, “I’m a winter baby but i love the summer and celebrate half birthdays yet I can’t remember nobody’s else’s—don’t quote me on that. I’d have to say I felt the most special when I celebrated my last birthday with my friends back home since we only had months left together. They wrote me letters and it all played out as a monologue at the movie theater. I thought we were going to see the new scream but nope, it was our lives played out on the big screen.”

“Dope ass friends.” Damon commented, “can’t wait to hang with them in New York in January.”

Smiling you gripped Damon’s arm to snatch the card out of his hand up to your lips while leaning on the table. “IN NEW YOOoOoOORK!”

“Here she go,” Damon pinched his brows laughing as he turned to the camera cutting his fingers against his neck, “y’all might want to stop filming, this’ll take about ten minutes since she’ll try to transition to any other song that says New York or is by a New York artist.”

Keeping the card to your mouth you gripped the sleeve of Damon’s cardigan, “these lights will expire you—

“Inspire.” He attempted to correct you.

“In New yooooooork. New York. New yooooork!” You ignored him before tapping him, “it’s your turn to rap Jay’s part.”

“No.”

“Forget you then,” you sucked your teeth before licking your lips and attempting to pull some fuckboy light skin cringe mess, “Say what up to Ty-Ty, still sippin' Mai Tais.” You started to rap what you remembered until Damon got up from his chair.

You tried your hardest to work your camera time, although you were sure this wouldn’t make the cut as Damon gripped onto your cheeks to get your attention.

And he did when he pressed his lips to yours.

“New years came early.” You breathed, smiling up at Damon who pulled you to your feet.

He tossed an arm across your shoulders before clearing his throat and began rocking you from side to side beginning to sing off-key himself, “One hand in the air for the big city…”

You wrapped both arms around Damon’s frame; grinning at both of your foolishness.

EMMETT CULLEN

“If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?” Emmett read the question off to you with a sigh.

He found this whole ordeal kinda lame until he persuaded the camera crew to provide shots, which wasn’t originally part of the plan. At this point in the game, he was taking shots after asking you questions just because. It wasn’t even a truth or drink segment but Emmett was charming and knew how to get his way.

“Ha!” Emmett laughed, golden eyes scanning over the card once more after downing his shot, “We don’t need to guess. I’ve got a sister who—

Slamming your hand on the table, you widened your eyes at your husband who sent you a dimpled grin. He held his hand out to calm you as he carried on.

“My sister Alice, what’s up if you’re watching! She’s a legit psychic and could tell us anything we need to know regarding my babe’s future.” Emmett admitted but knew the people were reluctant to believe that.

Especially since the room went quiet.

“Aw, don’t tell me you don’t believe me! I can call her up right now!”

“Emmett—

“It’s not that we don’t believe you. We get all sorts of people on this show for different things so maybe you can give us her contact info after?”

“Oh yeah,” Emmett smirked, “did you have vampires and witches too?”

“No we haven’t had any of those that I can recall.”

Emmett whipped his head around to yours, wiggling his brows while you scoffed at him. Of course he wouldn’t be on his best behavior, he wouldn’t be himself if he was.

“Put your library on shuffle. Explain the first song that comes up and why it best represents your relationship or in our case, marriage?” You moved on as Emmett couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

He lifted his body with ease, yanking his phone out to open Apple Music. He was the Apple Music guy and you were a Spotify girl, it was a whole debate that you didn’t want to get into right now.

“Alright, here it is. Starting the countdown! In three…two…one…!” And he pressed play followed by the music.

Emmett tossed the phone on the table after turning up the volume that would most likely blow out his speakers. He then began mimicking the guitar and drums as the band began to sing.

I never believed in things that I couldn't see

I said if I can't feel it then how can it be

No, no magic could happen to me

And then I saw you

I couldn't believe it, you took my heart

I couldn't retrieve it, said to myself

What's it all about

Now I know there can be no doubt

You can do magic

You can have anything that you desire

Magic, and you know

You're the one who can put out the fire

You know darn well

When you cast your spell you will get your way

When you hypnotize with your eyes

A heart of stone can turn to clay

He paused it, “well, well, how ironic for this song to best describe our marriage, huh babe? For the too young out there or uncultured, this was released in 1982 by a band called America. It’s a feel good song and when I’m with my babe, my wife, that’s what it feels like all of the time. Good vibes. Some might even say magical.” He snorted to himself, tipping a imaginary (most likely witch) hat.

The insiders he was throwing right underneath these people’s noses was actually a little funny, stupid but funny regardless.

“She’s from a wicked place herself, Louisiana and this was actually the first song I remembered hearing when I met her at this restaurant you have to take a boat through murky water to get to. That was a sign we should be together from the music itself.” Emmett told, keeping his eyes on you before he grabbed another shot, “and I’m a big believer in the signs.”

“Not the love spells?”

“So you admit you did a love spell on me?” Emmett dipped his head as he stared over at you, a sly grin threatening to appear.

“Please, I don’t need to do much to get you falling at my feet.”

Emmett’s booming laughter was heard, “she’s not wrong,” he tilted his head then took the shot, “and I love putting in the work if that means I get to have you.” He winked.

LEAH CLEARWATER

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” You blew out a breath as you could feel the heat radiating beneath your girlfriend’s dark brown eyes.

Leah chewed down on her bottom lip and you weren’t expecting her to answer this. However she wanted to be transparent and honest with you mainly, fuck the cameras.

“I love my mother,” Leah started, “she’s always been a good mother. I just always felt like there was a disconnect somewhere. I was always closer to my late father and Seth is closer to mom. It’s the usual weird dynamic, the son gravitates to the mother and the daughter with their father. We were no different.”

This you knew. It wasn’t something intentional but that was just the way it was and that did not necessarily mean that one parent loved the child any less or vice versa. You’ve seen Sue Clearwater plenty of times out of the five years you’ve been dating her daughter and she had the whole maternal vibe. She was sweet, constantly trying to get you to eat, nurturing, courageous and not to mention beautiful.

Leah sniffed, “like I said there’s this disconnect there long before my dad died but it seemed to increase afterwards? She’s currently in a relationship with this woman’s—that I don’t particularly care for father. He’s fine or whatever but it makes me feel gross that he literally helped produce someone who has caused one of my friends pain. He’s a reminder of that along with trying to take my dad’s place as if he wasn’t friends with him. It’s almost like he spit in my face being with my mom, that colonizer.”

Charlie Swan and Sue Clearwater had been in a relationship for over eleven years now. It still bothered your girlfriend to this day simply because she did not want to sit down and have a conversation about it. Leah did not want to waste her breath but it was evident that Charlie wasn’t going anywhere. Especially since him and Sue moved out to Oklahoma years ago to start a new chapter in lives together.

“So I say we’re content. There’s just things we don’t want to see eye to eye on. I have no problem voicing my opinions to my mom, that’s my mom. And she understands how I feel and that it’s not going to change. We love from a distance but if I need her she’ll be here in a heartbeat and if she needs me, I’ll be around.” Leah informed with her signature lisp and a sting in her eyes.

You knew Leah didn’t want you comfort her. She didn’t like to be seen as weak and you told her showing emotion never meant that you were weak. Leah’s been through a lot of hurt, was bitter towards certain people with every reason but was still healing after all these years.

There was no timeline for that.

“Let’s change the subject already!” Leah rubbed at one of her eyes as she continued sitting slouched, “What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“It plays a prominent role in my life. Family is very important to me, we’re all very close. Very affectionate. I lost both of my parents at eighteen and was thankful enough to have godparents that were willing to look after me. My parents were very loving and my godparents are the same. I carry that with everyone around me, including Leah. I love giving love as much as receiving it.” You answered making Leah scowl, who bit down on her nail as she shook her head at you.

“She’s the grumpy girlfriend but a big softie at heart that just simply wants to be loved.”

“Oh god,” Leah wanted to sink into the floor, “don’t talk about me like I’m not even here.”

“Okay, Leah. Do you feel loved by me?”

“Yeah of course I do. What kinda question is that?” Leah frowned.

“Good and I’m going to keep loving you in public and behind closed doors. We’ve been together five years, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that.”

You exhaled, “We’re not focusing on the what if’s, we live in the now remember? So shut up and let’s make out.”

“Ew, not in front of these strangers.”

“Aw come on, live a little. You know you can’t resist all this.” You ran a hand down your body making Leah snort and look away in horror.

“…Later.” She whispered, peeking back at you, although the mic was still on.

You kissed your lips at Leah who flicked the card at you, knowing you wouldn’t be stopping the love any time soon and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here

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utilitycaster · 11 months

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idk if you're still doing the unpopular opinion thing. Feel free to ignore if you're not. My unpopular opinion is that, because the romances in C1 happened without any planning from the players, it set the precedent to the cast and the fandom that if they talk about the relationships out of the game, it's gonna make them not as organic or "earned". Laura just teasing Travis about fj already made people disregard the ship as "planned" (ignoring the 500+ hours of development) and treating it as if it was bad because Laura "planned it" in advance. But honestly, Imodna is a ship that would've benefited A LOT from some out of game conversations between Laura and Marisha and I think it would've been better if they had planned for them to become a couple from the beginning, so maybe they could've focus more on developing it in game

I'm not still doing it per se but I'm not not doing it, but also to be honest I agree with you on which of these ships are good and that Imogen and Laudna needed considerably more planning, but I actually disagree that this is how this played out for other ships.

I didn't watch Talks for campaign 1 nor watch Campaign 1 as it aired (and Talks didn't start until after the romances had begun), but from what I recall from other conversations Liam did at least float the idea of playing romance out of game to Marisha and Matt - the surprise was when and how he revealed it, which is really no different from Fjord and Jester. I think (and as with all thoughts re: the fandom in C1 I might be wrong because I was not there; it's educated guessing) it was simply more surprising to the audience in that campaign because there wasn't a talkback show, because the fandom was smaller and less romance-focused, and because Vax and Keyleth particularly was very early since some of the development was pre-stream.

I think this post, which I made about a month and a half ago, about talking about the relationship in-game and in-character, might be relevant, as might this post about defining the relationship from yesterday. I think talking out of game is good and useful (and I think the fact that Matt, on 4SD, essentially said "do not try this at home" re: Imogen and Laudna is worth keeping in mind) but also I think that having the characters communicate in-game is arguably more important. Like, I don't know how much Taliesin and Laura talked about Percy and Vex out of game, nor can I say how much was necessary, but the fact that Vex, while Percy is dead (but Taliesin is watching from backstage), says that her heart belongs to him is the equivalent of a green flag conversation. Like, I don't think the cast typically plans out "my character is romantically interested in this character", and even if they do that doesn't mean it will remain the case or that anything will come of it; but a lot of the conversations happen in-game, but in a place where action is not immediately required from the other party (this is important) and that's just as valid a place to talk as out of game. It even serves as a reason to talk out of game; if Taliesin heard that and Percy was not interested in Vex (or if he as a player was uncomfortable playing romance), that's a chance for him to say "by the way, here's where I'm at" out of game after the session.

With Fjord and Jester specifically...look. A lot of people just don't like that relationship, which is their right, but the arguments against it have always been incoherent. As I was around during Campaign 2 I can say that the criticism was essentially ever-changing with each episode, which is usually a sign that it's baseless. It went from "Travis doesn't do romance so this isn't even on the table" to "Jester isn't even interested in him" to "wow Travis didn't plan this at all lol he doesn't care" to "wow this is too planned and inorganic and fake" to "well Laura blinked twice in Liam or Marisha's direction this episode [and also Fjord and Jester made out mid-combat] so I'd say we're winning, folks!" to "we popping the BIGGEST bottles in the finale where they break up" to "this campaign was a FAILURE and I hope Jester is eternally miserable" to "how DARE we have a Fjord-centric two-shot, prayer circle for Fjorester divorce" to "[incoherent sobbing, incorrect use of the term 'comphet', rage-quitting the fandom, and/or creating an entire Essek Hate Block Evasion sideblog]."

Anyway my point in all this, in addition to having fun, is that haters gonna hate and in the case of the Campaign 2 ships, which are all incredibly well-developed throughout the course of the campaign, they are going to make shit up. We don't need to pretend like it comes from a place of anything other than illogic and bitterness; too much planning was just one of the many things they threw out to try to justify a dislike that was, imo, barely related to what was happening onscreen.

But yes: especially because Imogen and Laudna were, out of game, intended not to be romantic, it desperately needed some kind of conversation that defined boundaries and indicated a change, and it's telling (and obviously I'm biased, but also, my blog archives speak for themselves) that the tenor of the conversation among those who ship it has drastically changed over the course of the campaign whereas the criticism has been remarkably consistent since roughly post-gnarlrock fight. But the fix could have been a conversation either out of game or in-game with other characters. Like, FCG and FRIDA, or Deanna and Chetney, are actually a perfect model of how you can handle this primarily in-game.

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag #opinions rating ask meme

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ineadhyn · 4 months

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Pleasure, Hope and Patience

The sun shone brightly on the road to Waukeen’s Rest. Birds were singing and the lush meadows

billowed in the wind. It was a perfect day in early summer, the group of travelers who were on their way there, lively and chatty and - definitely not covered in blood and gore.

Patience wiped a piece of viscera off her quarterstaff and perked up at the sound of a close stream. “Hear that? Water”, she informed her companions. “I’d like to wash some of this blood off.”

“An idea I support.” Shadowheart appeared to her right.

“Tsk’va. The mountain pass is close. Bathing can wait until we are cleansed of the parasite.”

“That comes to no-one’s surprise, recalling that you told our leader just yesterday that you liked her sweaty stench, ” Shadowheart mocked. “Does the whole astral plane reek, Lae’zel?”

“The blood and sweat add to the allure of her fighting, but not even a stream of perspiration could make your sacred flame enticing. Tell me again, istik, has it ever singed a single enemy?”

Patience pretended not to hear their bickering, or she didn’t bother to react. She preferred to investigate the collapsed bridge that spanned the river. That gap was wide. Hopefully she would be able to jump that far, otherwise - Sometimes it was unnecessarily humiliating being a dwarf. Patience turned back to her companions, but a shift in the atmosphere made her stop in her tracks.

There was a stutter in the birdsong, then an unfamiliar kind of silence encompassed the group. Patience forced herself out of her surprise and found that there was a man walking up to the group, who definitely hadn’t been there a moment before. He was neither tall, nor muscular or armed. In fact he wore an elegant doublet that would fit a salon better than a dusty road. The sun accentuated his soft brown curls and when he started talking with a honeyed voice, Patience let go of her staff.

A bard.

Not the first one she encountered. Though the last lay left in a circle of her own blood back at their camp.

How would he look dead? The white ruffles of his neck drenched -

Patience banned the urge with routined ease. Controlling her mind was her blood and butter as a monk. She meditated every day at sunrise, as she must have done her whole life, even though she didn’t remember. The habit was burnt into her like muscle memory.

“My my, what manner of place is this?”

The bard joined in as if he was familiar with them. Patience could sense how much Lae’zel disliked that. Still, nobody interrupted him. They all watched him like they would observe a large bug that came in an unusual color. So the bard had the time to perform a little poem before introducing himself: “I am Raphael, very much at your service.”

The bow which accompanied these words was suave, but had no meaning. Patience had liked the poem better.

“It is not every day one meets such a cardinal sinner as yourself. A true bloody pleasure.” His eyes flicked over her staff, the bruised knuckles, the triangular scar on the right side of her face and the wizard’s robe she wore, because the outfit she’d woken up in had been hideous.

“Pleasure?” Patience lifted her chin, looking up to him with doubt. “I am Patience.”

“Of course you are. Consider me charmed - in more ways than one.”

This time his eyes lingered on her face a bit longer. The way he was talking, the way he said “of course” without asking… Patience wondered if they had met before.

“What I have to say merits some privacy”, Raphael announced. There was nothing but birds chirping in the background and the silence of a dozen dead goblins. Raphael might have noticed the same, because he continued: “This quaint little scene is decidedly too middle-of-nowhere for my tastes. Come.”

A bright light engulfed them and a moment later Patience found herself alone with Raphael in a hall lined with red marbles and featuring grand statues. A table filled with a grand feast spread out in front of her. Patience found that this was far more to her taste as well. Although she didn’t remember ever being in a house so richly decorated.

“There. Middle-of-somewhere”, Raphael commented.

“Could you be a bit more specific than somewhere?”

Patience listened whilst he introduced “The House of Hope” dramatically. When his little monologue came to an end, she picked a single green apple off the buffet and probed it.

“Fill your plate. Enjoy your supper. After all, it just might be your last.”

This was certainly one way to make sure all the food on the table would go to waste. Patience pocketed the apple. “I am not hungry.”

“Not hungry?” Again Raphael examined her. His brows furrowed slightly as if she was a puzzle to him and he disliked that fact. “And yet, there is so much hunger in your eyes…” Quickly he pulled himself together. “Let me introduce myself properly. After all, we have never met in person.”

Raphael smiled and golden fire shot up from the ground, enshrouding him. Sparks appeared and his shape grew, red wings stretching out on both sides, a tail flicking and two sets of massive horns sprouting out of his head. The devil rolled his neck.

Patience didn’t bat an eye. If anything, she was mildly surprised to suddenly find her face on his crotch level. But whilst she didn’t move, Raphael, who might have miscalculated, trying to impress a dwarf, stepped back a little.

“What is better than a devil you don’t know. A devil you do… And to answer the unspoken question in your twisted and fractured mind: We do know each other - Or, to be more accurate, we know of each other.”

He would not tell the mouse that he was well informed about her past life. The murders of course. Being a bhaalspawn, of course. But also about her many dalliances - amongst them his own warlock. Don’t get distracted.

“Am I a friend? Potentially. An adversary? Conceivably. But a savior? That’s for certain.”

He was quite proud of how well rounded these lines came out. And therefore even more disappointed at Patience’s answer: “I don’t need saving.”

So blunt. No games, no holding back. Just like he liked his pawn. Oh, the games, yes, a bit of a dance, yes, but he preferred to be open about the rules and the setup.

“Are you sure? After all, you’re not traveling alone … and I don’t mean these companions of yours, they are very valuable I am sure. No, one skull, two tenants … I could fix it all like that.”

“Do it then.”

“No.”

They stared at each other for a few moments. It was hard to say if the black or the fiery orange eyes burned hotter. Raphael anticipated what Patience would try next, even before the dwarf raised her quarterstaff.

“Then die.”

Ah, yes, ever the bhaalspawn. Dividing the world in two groups: temporary allies and corpses.

Raphael pushed her staff away, using a hint of magic. How sadly weak the tadpole had made her. Still, the game must be played and it must be played fair. Though he truly enjoyed seeing the determination in her eyes light up, the muscles on her arms flexing, the fire reflecting on her brown skin and the short black curls.

He smiled. “I like it when my clients put up a fight, but it’s pointless. You can’t kill me.”

“Yet.”

“We will cross that bridge once we get there, isn’t that the saying?” It was perfectly intentional that he reminded her of where he had just picked her up. Unable to cross the broken bridge on her own. He should put her back on the other side…

“We’ll meet you again, when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair. Hope”, he mused. “Such a tease.”

“You’re mistaken.” The dwarf stood her ground. “I am Patience. And you will learn what that means, Raphael.” What was that? A spark of actual interest in her dark eyes? “Pleasure to meet you. Now, take me back.”

“By all means, bite the hand that feeds you”, Raphael said, knowing very well, he’d reach out said hand again and again, enjoying the nip. It only made his inevitable victory sweeter.

“Hope or Patience…”, he told her. “I’ll be there when either runs out.”

My entry for @dmagedgoods Raphael Romance event. Thank you for organising this it was a lot of fun to write!

It features my Durge Patience, a dwarven monk.

#raphael romance #raphael romance event #raphael x dark urge #rare case of m x f #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion

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streaminn · 1 year

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Whew, okie Stream! I have had a real shit day ngl and I need to get it out lol. So, instead of just ranting and raving, I offer my interpretation of the latest update of the Ortegaverse! (I hope y'all don't mind, but I've stolen some ideas that were given here, but most of this is all me)

So, without further ado!! I present,,, Enid after losing Mabel during childbirth. (Note: please forgive any mistakes or inconsistencies with the rest of the AU, I had to take some creative liberties)

Oh god, this doesn't feel real. It feels like just yesterday, Enid was speaking her vows, and now... Now she's all alone again.

Well, she's not alone exactly. No, somehow this is so much worse. Now, Enid has a kid, a daughter.

And she looks just like her

Why? Why? Why does this keep happening? Is Enid just cursed? It sure does feel like it right now. Every time Enid thinks she's found it, found happiness, it gets torn away from her and every time it hurts so much more.

This must be some cruel joke by the universe at this point, some higher beings getting some sort of sick pleasure by seeing Enid suffer. The very process that brought the brightest light to Enid also took away the one person she felt the happiest with. Enid's not sure how much more she can take. Not sure how much more she wants to take.

No.

No, she's not gonna think like that. There's no point in that line of thinking.

And besides, she could never do that to their daughter. Mabel would never forgive her. Enid would never forgive herself.

No, Enid will raise this tiny human and give her the life and love she deserves. Enid is going to be the mom that Esther could never even hope to be. Enid swears with every fiber of herself that this little girl won't go a single day knowing an empty stomach or the icy cold of an unforgiving, unloving mother.

Mabel may not be here physically anymore, but Enid will carry her in her heart and she will gladly give her heart to this girl. Their daughter will know who her mother was and how much she would've loved her if she was here.

This world may be cruel, but Enid won't be. Enid will bear the brunt of all the world's hatred just to ensure her baby never has to know it.

Probably the hardest part of all this is that she doesn't even have a name yet. They both had wanted to wait to choose the baby's name until they saw her, knew that when they did, they'd know just what to call her. But now, Mabel is gone and Enid has to do this on her own. How is she supposed to make this choice?

"Miss Sinclair? Ma'am, did you hear me? Do you have a name yet?"

Enid can barely make out what the doctor's saying as she stares endlessly at her child in her arms. Enid watches every movement carefully, every one of her senses centered solely on the tiny girl. She looks into the baby's eyes, chocolate brown looking back at her and suddenly, Enid is taken back years into the past. Strikingly similar brown eyes swirl through her mind and Enid knows. These eyes so unfairly resemble those emotionless ones from so long ago. The very first pair of eyes Enid ever fell in love with. And as the little girl giggles brightly, Enid smiles just as brightly in return.

"Willa."

(Next part is just my silly little addition)

7 Years later

"C'MON MAMA!! I wanna go on the swings! HURRY!!" Willa shouts, dragging her mother with impressive strength. The last few times they've been to the park, Willa has had to wait hours just to play on the swings. Today, they finally managed to get out of the house at a reasonable time. For some reason, Enid felt lighter today. Getting out of bed this morning was remarkably easy plus last night was the first in years that she slept without any nightmares. It was as if her mind and body had finally synchronized into a mood that wasn't pure depression. Needless to say, Enid was shocked to find that her watch said it was only 8 in the morning when they left home.

Now, Enid was struggling to keep up with her rambunctious daughter as she dashed across the playground area of the park, one hand solidly wrapped around Enid's wrist. Enid laughed at the dark-haired girl's excitement, "Okay, okay! Willa, slow down or you're gonna pop Mama's arm off!"

As the pair ran towards the swingset, Enid caught a glimpse of long, dark hair in signature double braids. Was that? Enid shakes her head. No, of course not. Why would she be here? She wouldn't. That's the point, Enid thinks.

Enid shakes the thought from her head, unwilling to let some trick of the light distract her from a day as bright as this. No, today is all about Enid and Willa.

Thankfully, they make it to the swings just in time, there's only one swing left and Willa jumps on it without hesitation, leaving her mom in the dust, literally. Enid walks around the set and stands behind her daughter, ready to push her.

They go at it for a while. Until Enid hears someone walk up from behind her. Whoever it is, their footsteps are so light that it leads the blonde to believe that they're trying to sneak up on her. It sets Enid on edge, waiting for this idiot to try and attack a mother in broad daylight. She's unable to stop the protective growl that emanates from deep inside her chest. The person behind her stops suddenly at the sound and Enid extends her nails preemptively and speaks without turning, "Don't mess with me. This kitty's got claws and I'm not afraid to use them."

It's barely audible but Enid's sensitive ears catch the sharp inhale from behind her. With her body in full defense mode, Enid turns to face the potential threat only for her own breath to catch at the sight.

"Enid."

"Wednesday?"

And! Scene!!

Okie, I'm gonna go to bed and cry now lol

OKAY

You didn't gotta do my heart like that bud but GODSAMN

Personally, I wouldn't think Enid would call her kid Willa, probably too consumed with Mabel's death to think of anyone else. Maybe a second name but not the first

Hope you get better soon mate, I'm sure things will go good eventually

#Ortegaverse #Writing #Rachelsfavqueer

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cilldaracailin · 8 months

Text

I Was Born To Love You

Hello my Tumblr Lovely's!

I hope you are all well :)

Here is the nest part in this Robyn and Taron story.

Enjoy!

Suze xx

“They call her love, love, love, love, love. She is love, and she is all I need.”

The yawn filled Taron’s whole body but not a tired yawn, one after waking from a wonderful sleep. Breathing in deeply, smiling as he realised, he was still snuggled tightly into Robyn. They had shared a bed since they had met. It was just their way and they always woke up on separate sides of the bed but now, one of the most amazing perks of being together was waking up with his arms still wrapped around her. He got to experience this twice before he had to go back to work and left Kilcreen and he had missed it. Her body curved perfectly into his and he told his own to behave as they lay together. His lips lifted into a smile and knew there was going to be lots of opportunities to make up for their five weeks of not seeing each other.

Robyn was breathing deeply, still sleeping and he moved closer into her, his nose pressing into her skin. He had no idea of the time and he didn’t care one bit. He just wanted to lay with Robyn and hold her close to him. The deep intense feelings and love he had for her rushed through his blood. Thankful beyond words for everything she had ever done for him, she made him laugh, smile and kissed him first. He still thought about and dreamt about that very first kiss on her couch and it always made him grin stupidly. He knew she loved him back as much as he adored her and he placed a soft kiss on the back of her neck.

Along with her soft sleepy breathes, he could hear the light noise from holiday makers outside mixed with the ocean waves. The room was bright, the day light streaming in behind the closed curtains but Taron didn’t remember the alarm going off. Kissing Robyn’s neck once more, he very carefully slid his arm from around her body and rolled over onto his other side, reaching for her phone which was on the locker. Blinking in the florescent light of the phone, he was surprised to see how early it actually was. Just after nine. He lay on his back and gave himself a stretch. He had expected to sleep much longer, feeling very tired last night when they eventually went to bed but he felt rested, again probably because he had slept so much during the day yesterday. Turning onto his side facing Robyn’s back, he lifted his right hand to draw very light circles on her shoulder. She had been so amazing with him over the last twenty-four hours and taken care of him as she always did and when they were in the pool, could feel how hard her hands were digging into his waist as she held onto him. He had never planned to have dip in the pool, but it just felt right at the time so went with his gut instinct and was so glad he did because it had been something weighing on his mind. It didn’t mean he was going to get in each time they went to the pool but he knew it was a start in healing his mind. Of course, the wonderful woman in the bed beside him had a huge part to play in it because he felt so safe with her. As always it just took a simple hand hold to calm his whole body and laying right up against her, he felt completely at ease. He trailed some more delicate strokes on her arm but let his lips replace his fingers, kissing soft skin and she briefly stirred before laying still again, still fast asleep. His lips grinned and knew if he snuggled back into her, would easily doze until she woke but wanted to repay her kindness from yesterday.

Breakfast in bed was nowhere on the top of her list of things that she ever wanted but looking over her body to the curtained balcony, knew how much she loved the sound of the ocean, watching the waves crash and came up with a different plan for breakfast surprise.

He placed another kiss on her arm and carefully got out of the bed. Walking into the bathroom, gave himself another stretch. He grinned as he brushed his teeth, looking at the bath. It was on his list of things he wanted to do with her and it made him grin more when he thought about the bubble bath he had in his case. The same as she had used for him back in Kilcreen, the one that made loads of bubbles. He intended for it to be fully emptied into the water for the two of them and looking in the mirror, he didn’t mind the blush that filled his cheeks. He loved feeling the giddy jitters that came with a new love and while he had loved Robyn for so long, it was a whole lot of fun experiencing so many new things together.

Washed and freshened up, he tip-toed across the tiled floor in the bedroom and at his, case took out some clean clothes. Both still had to unpack but he wasn’t too bothered to worry about that at the moment. Knowing well the weather was going to be hot and humid, he picked one of the many pairs of shorts he brought and a t-shirt. Dressed and with his hat on his head, sunglasses in hand, he picked up his phone and key card and nearly left the hotel room without writing a note for Robyn. It was their thing that they did for each other and he made sure he left it on the pillow his head had been sleeping on and after kissing Robyn on her forehead, left the room quietly.

He pulled his hat onto his head and once in the lobby, wandered with the other people who were on their way to breakfast. The buffet restaurant was bright with large glass windows on every wall which let so much light into the room, the windows looking right out onto the beach and pool. Wooden tables were spaced out through the large dining area, outside on the deck and each table had matching wooden chairs with red cushions. In the centre of the room were circular serving stations, all set up beautifully with platters of food. The stations were specific to a particular kind of food and the variety looked so fresh and delicious. Fruits of every kind, pastries, and breads, along with cheeses and meats and another area with hot food. As Taron walked around, he saw more stations set up with pancakes and waffles, cereals, yogurts and juices, teas and coffees. He was re-thinking his decision about trying to get breakfast for Robyn and bringing it to her knowing how much she would love being able to pick and choose what she wanted for herself but a breakfast treat on their balcony would make her smile so wide.

He himself loved a buffet and walked around each section a few times and was trying to figure out how he was going to balance four plates in his hand to bring back everything that he wanted to eat and pick Robyn’s food too.

“Sir, can I help you?” Taron turned around and was greeted by a staff member. “Are you looking for something in particular that I can help you find? If it is the omelette station, it is over to the right.”

“There is an omelette station too?” Taron turned to look and saw a chef in a pristine white coat cooking what he assumed were ready to order eggs. He looked to the staff member. “You have just made my choices harder.”

The staff member gave him a smile. “Best thing about a buffet. You get to try everything.”

Taron nodded his agreement. “Very true.” He looked around again and back to the staff member. “I would really like to bring some things back to my room, have breakfast on the balcony. Is there a tray I could have to carry everything?”

The staff member titled her head. “A tray?”

“Hmm yeah. I want to get some breakfast for my girlfriend too.”

“Sir you could order room service to your room.” The staff member suggested politely. “The selection may not be as wide as the buffet but we do provide some good varied options.”

Taron’s lips twitched and he gave a little laugh, his right hand moving to rub the back of his neck. “I didn’t even think.” He gave an embarrassed sigh. “We ordered something last night from the room service menu and it never even occurred to me to do breakfast too.”

The staff member gave him a small smile. “Jet lag can have that effect.”

Taron nodded. “I wish I could blame the jet lag but unfortunately not. Thank you so much for your help though. I will head back upstairs and order room service for us.”

“If you want sir, I could take your order.” The staff member called after him as he turned to walk away. “I am part of the room service team and would be happy to help take your order for you. It would save you the walk back to you room to make the order.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah of course. Let me get you a menu.” When the staff member returned, she directed him to a table and gave him the menu. “Take your time. I will come back to you in five.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course.”

He scanned the menu and while the selection on offer was nowhere near as vast as what was available at the buffet, he picked nearly one of everything following Robyn’s train of through of that it was included in their all-inclusive so why not. Once he had read out his choices to the staff member, he asked if it was possible for the breakfast to be sent after ten. It gave Robyn time to have some more sleep but also him time to set up the balcony for this surprise.

“Thank you so much for doing this.” He said to her as she nodded her head.

“Sure, and it’s no problem at all. I will personally bring it up to you for ten.”

Taron thanked her again and walked out of the dining room, making his way back to the room. He opened the door quietly and looked into the bedroom so glad to see Robyn was still fast asleep, curled up on the bed.

“Perfect.”

He left the door closed and opened the curtains of the living room, then the balcony doors. Immediately the early heat hit him and already knew it was going to be a scorcher of a day. The skies were blue, a few clouds scattered around but it was beautiful and so much better than the dreary weather he had left in London. There was a table and two chairs on the balcony which were shaded from the sun and he moved them a little so they could sit beside each other when the food arrived. Thinking of all the food that he ordered, he wasn’t too sure if the one table would be enough, so he carefully pulled the other square table over to make a bigger space. Back in the living area, he took the table cloth from the wooden table that the employee had put there late last night and used it to cover the tables outside. He wished he had some flowers for the table, something to brighten it up but maybe it was better he didn’t because there were a lot of plates of food coming for them and all the space was needed.

Satisfied the table was ready, he went back into the room and closed the balcony door, making his way into the bedroom. Still sleeping and looking so beautifully adorable, Taron carefully climbed back onto the bed beside Robyn. He had about half an hour before their breakfast arrived and he sat on the bed against the pillows, a little on his side. Reaching over, he brushed her hair from her face and lightly stroked her cheek, his hand then moving down her arm and resting on her waist. He slid down the duvet a little, still sitting up but making sure he wasn’t laying down but comfortable. He didn’t want to sleep but just lay with her.

The half an hour went quick and he heard the raps on the door and jumped up off the bed, praying Robyn hadn’t felt the bed jostle or the knock on the door. He made sure the bedroom door was latched tight and then opened the hotel door.

“Mr Egerton.” The same female staff member that he had been speaking with in the buffet with was outside the room. “I have your breakfast for you.”

He greeted her with a smile. “Great, thank you.” He stepped back and let her in, hoping his face didn’t show the surprise in how she greeted him by his name.

“We’re on the balcony, right?” She asked as she wheeled the trolley in.

“Please.”

“Sure.”

He followed her to the balcony and caught the grin on her face when she saw the table cloth already on the tables. “I just want it to look nice.”

“She will love it. It is a very sweet thing to do.” The employee carefully took the plates from her trolley and placed them on the table, then adding the drinks he had asked for too. Before she was done, she pulled out a single flower in a drinking glass from the second shelf on the trolley. “I took one from a vase in reception.” She explained placing the glass in the middle of one of the tables. “Just a little touch.”

“Thank you for that.”

“Of course. Robyn will love it.” The staff’s member hands flew to her mouth when she realised what she had said. “Oh no. Oh I am so sorry. I never meant for me to… I just… I… Sorry.”

Taron shook his head and gave her a little smile. He could immediately see the shock and regret on her face when she said too much but he didn’t feel uncomfortable at all with her innocent little slip of the tongue. “Robyn will love it.” He agreed. “I just wanted to do something special for her and you don’t have to apologise at all.”

“I am so sorry Mr Egerton. It is really none of my business.”

Taron took a step closer to her. “Nothing to be sorry for. I appreciate how helpful you have been.”

“And it is not because I know who you are and am a fan. It is part of my job and I would have done it for any other guest.”

“And I know you would.” He assured her. “And thank you for the flower for her.”

The staff member nodded a little. “It’s no problem. I had better get back to work.”

“Sure. Thank you…” Taron read her name tag. “Melody.”

“Any time. I hope you have a lovely breakfast together.”

“I am sure we will.”

Melody pushed the trolley towards the door but before she left, turned back to him. “I am not one those fans who goes on social media and I won’t say anything, Mr Egerton. I completely respect your privacy and Robyn’s too.” She added.

“Thank you Melody. I could already tell that from you and I appreciate that a lot.”

“And don’t forget, room service is just call away.” She said with a grin. “Saves you the walk down to the dining area.”

Taron chuckled. “I will do my best.”

He closed the door after her and walked back out to the balcony. The breakfast looked perfect, Melody arranging everything around the single flower. He was so ready to get eating but needed someone to join him.

In the bedroom, he was re-thinking his plan as Robyn still slept. He knew she had been up very early yesterday and he was always so conscious of her anaemia, never wanting her to feel as ill as she had done before. He stood at the end of the bed, his hands on his hips wondering if he should wake her up when she stirred herself. He watched her stretch out and roll onto her back, smiling as her right hand looked for him, her head turning when she didn’t feel him beside her.

“I am right here.” He called to her.

Robyn looked to the end of the bed and immediately smiled at seeing Taron standing there. “Hmm morning.”

“Good morning cariad.” Taron hopped up onto the bed and on his side, lay next to her. “You sleep well?”

“Very.”

Taron leaned over and kissed her forehead, then going for her lips, giving her a quick kiss. “Good.” He went to kiss her again but Robyn moved she he got her cheek. “Erm my morning kiss?” He questioned.

Robyn bit her lip and cupped his cheek and lifted her head to kiss him once more. “How long have you been up?” She asked him, stroking his cheek.

“Not too long.”

Robyn’s whole body stretched out with a yawn, feeling Taron kiss her temple. She ran her left hand through her hair and groaned. “Oh no, that’s some terrible bed hair.”

Taron chuckled at her. “I have seen it worse.” He laughed harder as she gave stuck her tongue out at him. “You look beautiful cariad.” He brushed his lips with hers again. “I have missed waking up with you.”

Robyn rolled onto her right side. “Except you didn’t wake up with me. You were at the end of the bed.”

“So observant.”

“What you been doing?”

“Hmmm nothing.”

“’Cos that guilty look tells me the same story.”

He smiled at her. “Nothing.” He repeated. “Breakfast finishes in half an hour. Want to go and check it out?”

“Buffet?”

“Sure.”

“Yes!” Robyn jumped up and over him and out of the bed. “Give me five in the bathroom and we can go.”

Taron chuckled as she ran into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. He knew it would only take her five minutes and sure enough, she came bouncing out five minutes later right over to her case.

“One minute to get dressed and we can go.”

“Sure.” Laying back on the bed, Taron breathed deeply, watching as she changed. Another perk of having a girlfriend and he had to shuffle around as she pulled on a fresh pair of underwear and bra, flushing when she looked over her shoulder at him.

“Enjoying yourself?” She asked turning around to face him. Taron bit his lower lip and nodded slowly. “Perks of a sun holiday.” She said, pulling on her shorts and buttoning them, then climbing onto the bed and up his body, laying on him, giving him a slow kiss. “Much better than a winter one.”

“Hmmm I couldn’t agree more.” Taron wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, his hand running up and down her back and further down over her bum.

Robyn kissed him hard once more and then sat up. “Right let go to breakfast.” She rolled off him and, on her feet, walked to her case picking up the tank top she had taken out to wear. Once on, she looked to Taron. “Well come on then.”

“Really?” He asked, sitting up on his elbows.

“You said we had half an hour and a buffet breakfast is the best part of an inclusive hotel.”

Taron threw himself back on the bed, giving himself another little adjust, groaning as he heard Robyn chuckling at him.

“I will make it up to you later.” She said walking around to the side of the bed and sitting beside him on the edge. “And I will do your suncream first including a mini neck massage.” His head turned to her and she brushed his fringe from his eyes. “And then a back one later.”

“Promise?” He asked, pouting a little.

“I promise even though the rest of these days were mean to be Robyn days.”

Taron lifted his head to kiss her. “Robyn and Taron days.”

“Agreed now can we go and get some breakfast please?”

“Sure.”

She helped him to his feet and they walked out of the bedroom but as Robyn headed for the door, Taron pulled her hand to make her go to opposite way and she pulled back pointing at the door. “Breakfast. That way.”

“Trust me.”

“Is there a secret door I don’t know about?” She asked following him towards the balcony. “’Cos while I know we didn’t do a full room tour last night but I am pretty sure there isn’t another door this way.” Taron gave her hand another pull and gestured to the balcony door. “You know breakfast finishes at half ten and while I do love the balcony and the view, I do want to have…” Robyn stopped mid-sentence and mid-step once she got onto the balcony. “…Breakfast.” She turned to Taron who stood in the door frame, a beautiful cute look on his face as leaned against the balcony door. “You do this?”

“Hmmm maybe.”

Robyn looked back to the table which has been set up with their own breakfast. Plates were laid on the table with fruit, pancakes and waffles, pastries along with a hot selection of poached eggs, eggs benedict and other hot food with toast and little pots of jams and butter. There were two jugs of juice, a coffee pot, empty glasses and cups, a sugar bowl and a jug with milk. Set in the middle was a single pink flower in a glass of water. “So, we had to rush to breakfast then yeah?”

“Hmm yeah.” He smirked walking over to her. “But you kept distracting me.”

“Looks like I could have kept distracting you, seeing as how breakfast was already here.”

He slipped his arms around her waist. “I didn’t want my eggs going cold.”

“You really set all of this up for me?”

He moved his hands around her back. “You were so good to me yesterday Robyn. From the minute I got on the plane, to walking through the airport and then at the pool. I just wanted to do something to repay you.”

Robyn placed her hands on his forearms. “Taron, I do those things because I love you and want too, not because I expect something back.”

“Well you deserve a nice breakfast on the balcony, listening to the ocean and enjoying the heat.”

“You do this when I was sleeping?”

“Well, yeah.” He gave a little embarrassed grin. “I actually went downstairs to the buffet expecting to be able to bring a tray back up here only to be reminded by a lovely staff member called Melody, that I could order breakfast through room service.” He saw her lips move into a smile which she tried to hide. “Melody works for the room service department and brought the meal up for me and the flower too.”

“Very thoughtful of her.”

“She kinda knew who I was and wanted to make sure the table was set up really nice for you.” He saw her face change a little. “It’s all ok. She was very nice and set up our breakfast for us.”

Robyn trusted Taron and stood on her toes to kiss him gently. “You set up the breakfast Taron. This was all on you. Thank you.”

“Wanna sit and eat?”

“Please.”

Breakfast was easy and delicious, the selection Taron had picked perfect for them and they enjoyed sitting together watching the ocean. Robyn had remembered to take her morning tablet and once she had finished off her glass of juice, got off her chair to move and sit on Taron’s lap.

“Thank you for my breakfast.” Cupping his cheek, she gave his lips a little kiss. “It was the most perfect start for our day.”

“It really was.” He agreed with a smile as she played with the hair at the nape his neck.

“So now the beach?” She asked with a wide smile.

Taron laughed at her enthusiasm but nodded in agreement. “Yes the beach.”

“Yes!” Robyn got up from his lap and started to tidy up their dishes from their food.

“Cariad you don’t have to do that.” He said getting to his feet.

“I know but at least let me get them somewhat tidy so it makes someone’s job easier.” She stacked the plates on top of each other, leaving everything ready to be lifted easily. “Just a little thing.”

Taron reached for her hand and they headed back into the room, closing the doors after them. In the bedroom, they dabbled with the idea of unpacking but both decided it could wait and picked their swim wear, Taron’s navy shorts slightly matching Robyn’s simple dark blue bikini. Changed and ready for the beach, Robyn packed up her beach bag with both suncream brands, a book each, and some water.

“Got everything you need?” Taron asked slipping his hat onto his head.

“Yup, I think so. We can take one of the towels from the pool each on the way there.”

“Will you pop my airpods into your bag?” He asked handing her the case. “I don’t want to lose them on the beach.”

“Sure.”

Making sure they had the key card safely zipped in her bag too, they left the room, Taron taking the ‘do not disturb’ sign from the door. They had the lift to themselves and as they walked through the lobby, it was peaceful and quiet, not too many guests around. To get to the beach, they had to walk past the pool and followed the path lined with palm trees to the gorgeous white sand. They strolled through two small sand dunes which were littered with beach grass and headed for the yellow beach chairs with matching white and yellow umbrellas.

An attendant sat under his own umbrella on a high seat and just asked to see their key card to ensure they were guests of the hotel before welcoming them and telling them to take any seats they would like, explaining the beach chairs closed at eight thirty.

Robyn let Taron choose and he picked two on the right side, close to the edge but in the middle of the eight rows of sun loungers.

“Well this is very different to Aber.” Taron chuckled as he lay his towel on the cushion of the sun chair. “White sand for one.”

“You know I love any kind of beach.”

“I do.”

“But Clearwater is beautiful.” Robyn agreed as she made sure her towel was straight on her chair. She dropped her bag onto the small table between the two and when she turned around, laughed. “Well, someone looks settled for the day.” Taron had already stripped himself of his t-shirt and was laying down on his back on the lounger, his hat still on his head but his eyes were closed and he looked extremely relaxed.

“I ain’t moving from here.” Taron replied.

“Where did you leave your top?”

“Somewhere down there?” He answered pointing to the sand.

“Taron!” Robyn scoffed at him and walked around his lounger to see his t-shirt dropped onto the sand. “Really?” She picked it up and shook it out. “That’s what the umbrella is for!” Back at the umbrella she hung his t-shirt up. She looked down at him and rolled her eyes. “Ugh men.” He was still laying with his eyes closed.

“I heard that cariad.”

“You were meant too.”

Taron turned his head to her and grinned. “I love how you can raise that eyebrow so perfectly.” He saw her face frown more, her mouth drop a little and chuckled at her reaction knowing well his words would frustrate her. He stretched to grab her hand and pulled her down onto his lounger and wrapped his arms around her waist, placing little kisses on her shoulders. “I will hang it on the umbrella next time.”

Robyn wriggled out of his arms and stood up, turning to him, her hands on her hips. “Let me tell you where you can hang it next time.” She scowled at him but on seeing his face turn, worried he had really upset her, she leaned down to him and tapped his nose. “Got ya!”

He sighed but his face was smiling again. “You think I would have learnt to read you by now.”

“Hmm you would think so.” She agreed. “But next time hang your t-shirt up ‘cos I ain’t picking up after you and you can have a sand filled top.”

He nodded with a grin. “Yes ma’am.” He lay back on the lounger but his eyes moved to the right as Robyn stripped off her shorts and top hanging them both up onto the inside of the umbrella alongside his t-shirt. Plain and basic, her bikini was most perfect for their day at the beach and he quickly closed his eyes when she looked down at him, but immediately knew he had been caught. Opening his eyes, he shrugged at her. “I am well within my rights to look ya know and I am not going to make any excuse for doing so.”

She laughed at his words and carefully sat by his side on his lounger. Lifting his cap and leaning in, she kissed him once. “I am going for a swim.”

“Swim?”

“Yup.”

“Yeah, I am going to stay here.”

“I figured you would but I wanted to let you know that I was going down to the water.”

“You don’t want to wait a bit?”

Robyn shook her head. “Nope. Swim and then sunbathing for the rest of the day.”

“Well, I will keep our spot.”

Robyn looked around at the mostly empty sun loungers and back to him. “Sounds like a great plan. I won’t be too long.”

On her feet, she left Taron alone and strolled down across the warm sand to the shore, the clear water lapping at her feet. She closed her eyes and breathing in the hot air, turned to look over her shoulder. Even though it was a slight walk to the water from their chairs, she could still see Taron and she gave him a little salute, seeing him give her one in return. Satisfied he was ok on his chair, she walked further into the ocean and kept going until she was able to take to a swim. The water was clear and so refreshing, and deliciously warm. She was used to being on the other side of the beach because when she lived in the town, it was where her apartment was but it was just as nice if not better in some ways where they were staying, as visitors kept to the right of the pier. Now she could swim freely and she took her time enjoying the water. It had always been a way for her to clear her mind when she was working but her mind was so clear and her heart full of love, she just enjoyed the swim. After a while, she made her way back to shore. As she walked out of the water, Taron was sitting on the sand waiting for her. She headed his way and sat beside him.

“What ya doing?” She asked him as she squeezed the water from her hair over her shoulder.

He shrugged. “You were gone ages.”

“I was not.” She chuckled. “Maybe fifteen minutes.”

“Yeah, ages.” He confirmed.

She laughed at him again. “Or you were checking up on me?”

“Never.” He replied quickly, watching the water as it covered his feet. “I know you can take care of yourself but it was ages.”

“The water is really nice.” She told him. “Clear and warm.” She reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze, feeling one come back.

“It is beautiful here and not too busy.” He commented looking around. The beach was quiet, a few people in the water, a few laying on the loungers and it really was so peaceful and calm. The sun was beating down on him and it was better than he had imagined. He had been longing for the sun, beach days and time with Robyn away from work and his busy schedule and so far, it was living up to his expectations. Even more so that Robyn was holding his hand and gently caressing the inside of his palm. “And I might be getting used to this heat.”

Robyn lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed his hand. “It is perfect with that breeze and yes thankfully not too busy here. The other side of the pier is usually a lot busier and I guess because these chairs belong to the hotel, only hotel guests can have them so everyone keeps to the rented beach chairs plus schools are back too so the crowds are probably less.” She lifted her head to the sun. “And that sun is so welcomed.”

“This time last year we were sitting in your back garden in the sun.” He pondered, seeing Robyn turn to look at him with a head tilt.

“Yes we were.” She lifted her right hand to trace over the scar on his arm, her lips leaving a tiny kiss there too. “What a year it has been.” She murmured.

“Yes it has.” He agreed.

“A great year.” She added looking up to the sky, enjoying the warmth from the sun.

Taron watched her start to soak up some the rays and gave her hand a tug. “Might be time for some sun cream. It may be September but skin can still burn.” He got to his feet and pulled Robyn’s to hers. “And I know you can burn as I have seen it.”

She gave him a grin and cupped his one hand in her two as they walked back up the beach towards their sun loungers. A few more guests had taken their place on the beach for the day but their chairs were as they had left them. She reached into her bag and took out some sun cream bottles as Taron dragged his sun lounger to the right side of Robyn’s. He had contemplated letting the umbrella down but decided moving the chair was the easier option instead of messing with the umbrella. His chair was now also in the sun and he fixed his towel to make sure it was straight before sitting down. Robyn had seen what he was doing so moved the small table to her left and out of their way so it was under the shade of the umbrella. She placed her bag under the table, further protecting it from the heat of the sun.

“I am going to start with the twenty-five.” She said picking up the bottle of sun cream she had chosen. “I have the same in the non-scented one for you or a higher or lower factor if you want it.”

“Twenty-five is a good start.” He agreed picking up the blue bottle. “I still can’t believe you actually brought two different brands of cream.”

Robyn had already opened the bottle and was rubbing the cream into her legs. “Well you said yourself you weren’t too fond of the coconut scent and we have over a week with sun cream so I picked one you would be happy with.”

“I would have been happy with the coconut one.” He told her softly, smiling as she lifted her head and rose an eyebrow his way. “I would have!”

She just grinned at him continuing to make sure the sun cream was completely rubbed in. Robyn then adjusted the sun lounger so the bed was completely flat and routed for her phone and ear phones, taking out Taron’s too and handing them to him after he asked her for them. Settling on her back, she popped her ear phones in, shuffled her songs and put her phone back in her bag. Looking to Taron, he was already on his back, eyes closed and laying in the sun. He was beyond relaxed and she could see his fingers tapping along to whatever song he was listening to. Laying back, she untied the straps of her bikini top and fixed them so there would be no sign of an obvious tan line and closed her eyes, the heat of the sun glorious on her skin. Pure relaxation, it was what she had been waiting for and glancing to Taron again, he was as content as she was.

Nearly two hours in, Robyn was ready for a turn over and even tan and fixed her bikini top and sat up. Swinging her feet over to the side, she reached for her bag to get some water.

“Here you go.”

The bottle was handed to her by Taron who was sitting up with his book in his hand.

“Thank you.”

“I understand much better now the tan line thing.” He grinned as Robyn took a drink. “And can I say, I am definitely a fan of the no tan lines.”

Robyn filled her hand with some water and threw it over him, but she was laughing. “I hate shoulder tan lines. Just no, so I have to move the straps.”

“Hey, I am not complaining one bit!” He placed his book mark into page he was reading and closed the book over, laying it beside him.

“And if Stella is going with this strapless miniskirt dress for New York, it’s a good plan for no tan lines.”

He was expecting the second drips of water to hit him and took to laughing when a handful hit him in the chest. “When you are finished cooling me down, can I please take you up on the mini neck massage and a request to sun cream my back please?”

Robyn closed the lid on the bottle and dropped it into her bag, taking out the suncream. “Of course and you get to do mine in return.”

“Absolutely.”

She moved to sit beside him, the blue bottle in her hands, and once he was turned with his back to her, she squeezed some sun cream into her hands and starting with his shoulders, worked her way down his back to the top of his trunks, around his sides and up to his shoulders again. As promised, she spent a little time on his neck, her thumbs rolling into warm skin and once finished, Taron made sure her entire back was protected from the sun with her chosen suncream. He placed a small kiss on her left shoulder when finished.

“Definitely makes it easier when someone can do that for you.” She stood up and sat back on her lounger. “I don’t have to worry about my back burning now.”

“Anytime cariad.” Taron replied as he made sure that backs of his legs were covered. “It’s so warm though.”

“September is a nice month to be here. The summer months are much more intense.”

“I may end up in the ocean before the day is out.” He said as he lay down on his stomach.

“I am right there with you.” She agreed copying him, finding a comfortable position on her front too, her hands going behind her to open the straps her bikini once more.

Taron watched with an amused look on his face. “This tanning is a serious thing.” He commented.

“What if it’s a backless dress?” Robyn replied looking at him. “I could not have a white line across my back!”

Taron chuckled at her. “Whatever you say.”

Their day at the beach was exactly what they needed after travelling the day before and Taron quickly volunteered to re-tie her bikini after another hour and half in the sun. Deciding they were roasting and needed a proper cool down, they walked to the water and took a dip in the cool ocean, Robyn keeping a tight hold on Taron’s hand as they bobbed in the waves. Back on the beach, they moved both loungers under the shade of the umbrella, getting out of the hottest heat of the day. Chatting and laughing together, they felt so at ease and Robyn wandered back to the hotel when Taron took a quick work call, coming back with two ice creams for them.

“Everything ok?” She asked him handing him a cold bottle of coke too.

“Yeah, just scripts and bits.” He thanked her for the ice cream. “Nothing I have to worry about for the next two weeks.” Robyn gave him a look. “Honestly. Everything is all good.”

They loved having no plans made and soaking up more sun for the afternoon, they left the beach just after six, Robyn taking a quick swim in the pool before they headed back to their room, Taron sitting with his legs in the pool, happy to splash around that way while Robyn made use of the pool. It was busier than late last night but he still felt completely comfortable and at ease. He chuckled when Robyn complained again about her shorts and top getting wet once she was out of the water but slipped back into her clothes for the walk through the hotel. She stripped out of them quickly as soon as they got back into their room, hanging her shorts and top outside on the metal bars to dry them out. Just in her bikini, she crawled up onto their bed and sighed happily as she snuggled into the pillows.

“That air con is so nice.” Taron followed her lead and lay beside her, stripping himself of his t-shirt and Robyn immediately moved to cuddle into him, her right leg hitching over his, her head on his chest and her right arm slowly stroking his side.

His skin was perfectly hot from the day in the sun, the suncream scent lingering on his skin and she snuggled deeply into him. Both had fallen asleep on the beach at one point, their long day yesterday catching up on them and they lay together now, eyes closed. Taron’s fingers were running up and down her back while hers were trailing up and down his arm.

“What time should we go for dinner?” Robyn asked.

“Hmm whatever time you want.” He answered sleepily.

“It closes at half nine, so maybe half eight?” She suggested. “By the time we get up from here…”

“…If we get up.” Taron interrupted, his index finger running over the seam of her bikini bottoms.

“If we get up and showered and changed.”

“Room service sounds good right now.”

“Taron…” Robyn gave his side a tickle. “A meal outside this room would be nice!”

“We will!” He chuckled. “Promise. In a while though ‘cos cuddling.”

A ringing phone cut through their silence and while Taron told Robyn to ignore it, she rolled off him to pick up her bag from the floor and route for his phone, gently throwing it to him. “Yours.”

Had it been anyone else, he would have left the phone ring but a call from his mother was one he would never ignore. Sitting up in the bed, he answered the face time and smiled widely.

“Hey mam!”

“Love! So nice to see you.”

“You too mam.”

“Looks like you have already caught some sun.”

“Robyn and I had a beach day today. It was really nice. Bloody roasting but nice. We are only back in.”

“And speaking of, Robyn? You leave her on the beach?”

“Mam…”

“Right here Tina!” Robyn came into focus on the screen as she sat beside him.

“Robyn, oh you got some sun too. You both are glowing.”

“Thank you Tina. It was a lovely day at the beach.”

Taron turned his face to look at Robyn, new freckles on her face that he hadn’t noticed yet, her skin already soaking in the sun and starting to brown. He looked back to the phone and agreed. “So nice. It is beautiful here. Perhaps a little too hot but beautiful.”

“You will acclimatise love and you can always take a swim.” The words were out before she realised what she had said and Tina’s face fell. “Oh Taron, love, you know… you know I didn’t mean anything by…”

“Mam, it is ok.” He quickly interrupted. “Really ok.” He assured her. “Believe it or not, I have been in the pool with Robyn. Just felt right last night when no one was around. We had a swim in the ocean too so I am good, I promise.” He saw his mam’s face turn from shock to worry and then to a little less worry. “And I have been wearing sun cream too.”

Tina’s face widened to a smile and her eyes darted to Robyn and back to her sons, thankful as always for her. “Sounds like you are having a wonderful time already.”

“We are.”

“Well, I was just checking in, making sure you were all ok before I headed to bed.”

Taron nodded. “All ok.” He confirmed. “Everything ok at home?”

“Just fine. Mari and Rosie are beyond excited for you and Robyn to come for a visit next week.”

Taron nearly rolled his eyes. “For me or for Robyn?”

Tina laughed at his words. “You know how much they love Robyn but since they know you are together, their excitement has increased just a little bit.”

Taron threw himself back on the bed and Robyn took the phone from him. “Tell the girls I am very excited to see them too.”

“But we won’t wish your time away together.” Tina replied gently. “You and Taron deserve the time alone so I am going to let you go.”

“It is always lovely to see you Tina.”

“Bye mam!” Taron called still laying on the bed.

“Get up and say goodbye to you mother properly!” Robyn gently gave him a poke and Taron sat up as he was asked.

“Bye mam.” He grinned.

“I am glad to see you are still keeping him in line Robyn.”

Robyn chuckled. “Always.” She replied still laughing.

“All the women in my life ganging up on me.” Taron’s voice was playful and he looked to his mam. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Have fun.”

“Oh we will!” He winked and ended the call, placing his phone to the side and laying back on the bed, wrapping his arms around Robyn and pulling her on top of him. Their laughter filled the air which soon turned to gentle kissing, sighs and Taron ending up in Robyn’s arms, her left hand playing with the hair at the back of his neck while he dozed against her. She didn’t mind that once again he was laying against her because she could hold and hug him and take care of him but her stomach grumbled and he chuckled. “Ok so it is your food needs which are going to interrupt us this time.”

Robyn ran her two hands through his hair, giving the strands a little tug. “So that means we get to leave the room for food this time, right?”

“Sure cariad.”

“And to get food, you gotta move rocketman.”

“Meh, cosy.”

“Me too but this can be resumed later on after dinner.” She ran her two hands down his back and up again, giving his bum a gentle pat. “Come on, up.”

Reluctantly Taron got up and helped Robyn up too. “Save the dolphins?” He asked with a grin.

Robyn shook her head with a smile. “You can take the shower first today because I am not coming back out to you sleeping again and while you shower, I am going to unpack a bit.”

He agreed with a sigh, gave her a quick kiss and heading for the bathroom, closed the door after him. The shower was running as he stripped down and stepping in, it was great to wash off the suncream and sand from the day. As he soaped his body up, he winced as he ran the loofa over his hips and lower stomach. Looking down, he groaned when he saw some sunburn on his skin. He thought he had managed to cover all his body with the suncream, but clearly missed some parts and was already feeling the sting of the sunburn. He cursed a little and quickly washed his hair and turned off the water. Out of the shower, he did a further examination of where he had burnt, running his fingers over the red marks which were a little tender and sore. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around his waist and headed out of the bathroom.

“Robyn…”

“Yup?” Her face appeared from behind the wardrobe door.

“I got burnt.”

“What?” She quickly walked over to him. “Taron?”

“Sun burnt.”

Her whole body sagged. “Taron… A bit of context please!” She exclaimed. “I thought you had hurt yourself.”

“The sun hurt me.” He pointed to his hips. “Look.”

Robyn followed where his hands were and saw indeed, the red skin from where he had missed with his sun cream. There was a single line from left to right along where his swimming trunks had sat on his waist, a larger spot on his left hip, a little one on his right. “My poor rocketman.” She very lightly ran the pad of her index finger over the redness, hearing him hiss. “Sorry, sorry.”

“I put suncream everywhere!”

“You never really know until you come back in from the sun.” Robyn said kindly to him. “It’s only a little bit. Nothing like your shoulders and while it is a little sore now, you can rub the after sun onto it and it will help.”

“Do you have any sunburn?” He asked stepping away from her and walking around her, checking every part of her skin and he huffed. “Not a bit of red, except maybe your nose.”

Robyn smiled at him. “I will miss a bit on purpose tomorrow for you. I am actually surprised to be honest. I usually miss the same spot you got burnt on.” She walked into him and hugged him. “You are going to have a beautiful colour when that eases off.”

“Uneven colour.”

Robyn chuckled at his words. “Well let’s hope Stella isn’t sending you down the red carpet in your birthday suit.”

“Let’s ‘cos that means you will be too.”

The laughter filled the room and Robyn placed a kiss on his cheek. “The after sun is in the fridge.” She told him. “It feels better on your skin when the cream is cold. I popped it in there earlier before we left for the beach.”

“I thought that you were gonna rub in my after sun.” He grinned.

She returned his smile with her own. “For that teeny little bit of sunburn, I think you can manage.” She gave him another kiss. “I am going to shower. I started to empty our cases and hung up some clothes.”

Heading for the bathroom, she closed the door and left Taron alone to fend for himself. She double checked for her own traces of sunburn but it really was only her nose and her cheeks that were flush and she was thankful she had managed to avoid getting burnt because she had particular places that she always missed when putting on sun cream. Taron had left his trunks in the bathroom and she washed them out along with her bikini and covered in a towel, walked out into the bedroom and to the balcony where she hung up their wet swimwear, coming back into the room. Taron was at the wardrobe, dressing in a pair of jean shorts.

“You get the after sun?” She asked.

“Yeah, thanks. It was cold.” He turned to her. “Well, you get burnt?” She shook her head at him and though he tried to hide his puff of air, she heard it and hugged him from behind, kissing between his shoulder blades. “Can you do my back please?” He asked her, closing his eyes as her lips placed soft kisses on his skin.

“Of course.” She hugged him hard. “I will do all of your sun cream tomorrow to ensure nothing goes untouched.”

“Deal.”

Taron helped Robyn with her after sun first and once she had changed into a sun dress and plaited her hair, spend some time massaging his back from shoulders to his waist and after she got him to stand up, opened his shorts and pulled them down a little so she could also give his red skin another gentle once over. She felt him wince and although his hips were nothing compared to when he scalded his shoulders, sunburn no matter how big or small was sore. “Do you have a looser pair of shorts?” She asked him. “That jean material is going to rub against your skin and if you have a cotton pair, it would feel better for you.”

Taking her advice, he changed into a pair of dark green cargo shorts which were not as tight fitting and thanked her with a deep kiss which left her gripping his arms tight.

They eventually left their room just before nine to head for dinner and strolled hand in hand to the restaurant. Walking around to look at the options, Taron saw Melody and greeted her with a hello and introductions to Robyn. Melody then guided them to one of the best tables in the buffet restaurant which had a perfect view of the pool and beach behind. Walking around the different serving stations, they separated to pick what they wanted to each eat, coming back together. Melody had already left their drink order on their table and while Robyn went up for seconds, Taron had a third plate and they shared a plate of desserts together. The food was delicious and plentiful and they didn’t feel rushed one bit. Their meal was perfect for a first official one outside of their room and when Taron suggested a drink at the pool bar, Robyn followed with a mention of cocktails and a clear nod in agreement. After two drinks each, they brought one back to the room and sat on the balcony listening to the waves and enjoying the cooler heat of the night.

“So aquarium tomorrow.” Taron spoke through the comfortable silence they had been sitting in. Two sun loungers had appeared on their balcony and they were making the most of them, Taron laying back with Robyn between his legs as they sipped their drinks. “You excited?”

“Very. I love that place.”

“You think it will be busy?” He asked.

“I would imagine so.” She replied to him and turned around so she could look at him. “I say we get there for opening, walk around and see what we want to see and then head back here to the pool.”

“We don’t have to cut the day short because of me Robyn. I know you how much you have been looking forward to it.”

She moved from him and turned around completely, sitting by his legs. “I have been to this aquarium many times and I just want to show you my favourite parts but it can get very busy and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

He leaned in and kissed her. “I love you.”

She smiled into his lips. “Love you more.”

“Let’s just see what happens ok?”

“Ok.”

Taron covered his mouth as he yawned and suggested they head to bed. In agreement, they locked the balcony door behind them and once changed into their sleep wear, Robyn volunteered to sooth his sun burn with the cool after sun and once done, she kissed her way up his torso from left to right, all the way to his lips, straddling him and continuing her gentle kisses along each side of his jaw and back to his mouth.

“Thought we were going to sleep cos we had an early rise?” He whispered a little breathlessly through kisses.

“Thought I might try to help you forget about your sunburn.” She whispered back running her right hand through his hair.

He nodded very slowly. “It’s really really sore.” He pouted.

“Hmm yeah?” Robyn moved back down his chest, her lips delicately trailing down to his hips. She could feel the heat on his skin from his day in the sun and gently blew across his hips, grinning as his legs twitched, doing it again chuckling when she heard his deep exhale. After wetting her lips and as lightly as she could, she kissed his left hip and carefully and tentatively kissed across his lower stomach to his other hip, blowing over his skin once more.

“Fuck Robyn…” She was barely touching him and while he was only sun burnt in one place, his body felt on fire. She crawled back up to his face and he kissed her hard, his arms nearly crushing her against him, smiling as she straddled him again. “So sleeping?”

“In a minute or two.” She grinned, smiling more as Taron’s hands roamed, one under her top and one under her shorts and her hands followed his lead, sleep the last thing on both their minds.

#Robyn and Taron #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #Taron Egerton Fanfic #Taron Fanfiction #Taron Fanfic #Love #Holidays #Beach Days #Relaxation

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buginateacup · 9 months

Note

Hello, for the wip(s) meme: 9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Oooh! Nonny what a question!

It's kind of rare for me not to start something of a story I want to tell, mostly because I WILL forget the details if I haven't written something down.

But I do have the start of something rattling around in my brain that is akin to a timeloop story, but not in the traditional sense.

It starts, as so many of my stories tend to do, with Megamind kidnapping Roxanne

(another Megarox story? Me? Whodathunk?)

Unfortunately for Megamind, the moment the bag is removed from Miss Ritchi's head, she takes one look at him and bursts into tears.

Well.

That's horrible.

Megamind has no idea why she's suddenly sobbing like she can't breathe but something terrible clearly happened so he's just going to untie her and send her home and hope really really hard that it wasn't anything he did.

At which point Roxanne freaks out even further and insists he can't and please don't and I can't and "So help me if you press that button to call your escape bots I will string you up by your gills!"

That's a surprise. Megamind had no idea she'd figured out that was his escape button. The fact she referenced his gills is even more disturbing.

And then through choking sobs and helpless tears it comes out that Roxanne has lived this day before. Not only that but up until about a year ago she'd lived this day hundreds, if not thousands of times.

Timeloop. Okay. That explains why she knows about his escape button but Megamind is still a little leery about the whole "How did you discover I have gills thing?" and promptly has his mind blown that after months of living in a loop, Roxanne had managed to figure out the combination of factors and phrases that wouldn't send him into hiding for a month and actually get him to help her figure this out.

(He'd probably feel prouder of that if she didn't still have tears streaming down her face.)

So through trial and error and many long weeks of looping (somehow introducing Megamind did give the loop a little extra time) they managed to escape. Hell, they'd been dating for the last ten months!

Up until yesterday.

When he died.

So we have a Roxanne a year out of having learned everything that happens in this city like clockwork, living through the fresh hell of having just watched her lover who died just YESTERDAY, suddenly back to life with no memory of the last ten months, or their relationship and on top of THAT.

They're still in the timeloop.

#ask meme #I don't know where it goes after that #its very emotionally cathartic at least #but someday

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peytouo · 2 years

Text

Mundis (Ch. 4)

Tighnari's body is terribly heavy like he's been frozen for a good month. He tried to open his eyelids and the light stings. "Nn." Ow. Bruised ribs. "Nari? Are you awake? Hold on, I'll call the doctors." A figure quickly stood and pressed something from above his bed. Am I in Bimarstan? No. It's too cold and quiet. Ch.1 | Ch.2 | Ch.3

The night just passed and unlike yesterday, Tighnari felt less groggy and a bit more responsive. Am I in bed? What's that beeping sound?

His body is terribly heavy like he's been frozen for a good month. He tried to open his eyelids and the light stings. "Nn." Ow. Bruised ribs. "Nari? Are you awake? Hold on, I'll call the doctors." A figure quickly stood and pressed something from above his bed. Am I in Bimarstan? No. It's too cold and quiet.

"Cy..." Tighnari tried to reach out for him. "I'm here. You're fine." The figure turned out to be Cyno wearing a thick coat and a shirt. We're not in Sumeru. He thought because Cyno is weirdly fully clothed. Sure he wears a big poncho whenever he travels far but, fully clothed from torso to toe.

Several people in white come into the room and Tighnari tries to understand whatever they're talking about but his head is spinning. A woman in white walked to his bedside to check the pole beside his bed. Tighnari's half-open eyes followed her and noticed the pole was holding a bag of liquid and tubes to-- what in the archons is this?

As much as he wanted to move, his body forbade him. It's too heavy and everything is numb. His eyes then turned to the other people in white who were still talking to Cyno and it wasn't long before they left the room and Cyno came to his bedside, gently taking his hand and kissed his knuckles. "Don't move so much now. You're okay. I'm here." Tears were streaming down his cheek. "I am so sorry Nari. This wouldn't have happened if I just handled the situation calmly."

Tighnari lifted his finger to wipe a tear. Why is he crying? I'm sure the wild cats won't be driven off if he calmly asked them to go away. He tried to speak but his throat is too dry that it hurts even if he just moans.

Still, he tried. "What... happened..."

"Car crash. I already apprehended the driver who did it. Jail time doesn't fully do him justice for what he did." Cyno bit his lip hard. "Car?" Tighnari can only mutter a few words. "It's kinda irreparable, but it's okay. I'll get you a new one. It's my fault." Cyno looked apologetic about it, but what's a car? Tighnari slowly shook his head.

"We'll talk about that some other time. You have to rest for now. I'm glad you're finally awake." Cyno pressed his hand on his cheek as he lay his head by his bedside.

----

"The Lesser Lord has found a way to bring you back." Cyno announced the news over breakfast. Tighnari just finished his meal of what appears to look like a granola bar, but it tastes like mushrooms. "Great! When do we go?"

"It should be done at night. Both of you should be asleep for the process to work." Cyno responded as he took a sip of coffee. Collei was about to take a bite but an idea popped in her mind. "OH! We can take you somewhere for a quick trip. Maybe a little something special before you go?" She was getting too excited for this. "Why not? All the walking could knock me out early and that means I'll be back in my body early." Tighnari shrugged at the idea. "Your body should also be asleep. That's why it had to be at night." Cyno sounded like a killjoy to which Collei pouted, not knowing Cyno took notice of it.

"But a trip would be fine. I'll be with you to make sure it's safe." He coughed and Collei's frown immediately turned into a smile. "Yes!" She cheered, "We can take you to Sumeru City or go to Apam Woods with giant trees! Or we can watch the theater perform, but I'm not sure if they a performance today." Her list sounds full and Tighnari chuckled. "Sounds like a plan!" Tighnari smiled at Collei who is too excited for this.

Cyno didn't have a say in it so they quickly finished breakfast and cleaned before they went to their huts to prepare. As this was Tighnari's last day on Teyvat, he neatly placed back the books he read and, "I haven't met you in person, but you did an absolute job with the place. The rangers included." He whispered into thin air, hoping that some magic would deliver his message to the real Tighnari of this world.

"Master? You ready?" Collei peeped in by the door. "Yep!" Tighnari checked if everything's in place. He figured his other self likes it neat and clean, just like him. He joined Collei soon after and they met with Cyno right at the edge of Gandharva Ville. "Let's head to Apam Woods. I have a little business I need to check in Caravan Ribat as well." Tighnari and Collei gave him a nod. Tighnari took a last glance at the beautiful community his other self took care of and they went off.

"Don't you have cars here? Or buses? Damn it's hot and humid out here." Tighnari huffed as he rested on a bench. The three of them just reached VImara Village to cross and reach Apam Woods. "I always wondered why Cyno dressed less," he wiped his sweat, "now I know why." He let out a groan.

"Stay here. I'll be back." Cyno stepped out for a moment and went to a villager's house. Possibly the village chief. "I remember Master wasn't always fond of the heat." Collei handed him a canteen full of water. Tighnari accepted and was refreshed after drinking. "Figured. My fur is too dark and dark colors don't do well with heat. He also has a lot of garments." He fixes his sash and re-arranged the flower pinned near his shoulder.

They took a break at Vimara Village to have lunch. Collei prepared her well-renowned pita pockets for their lunch. In the middle of their meal, Cyno returned now wearing a flowy poncho with a hoodie similar to his usual helmet. "You're gonna wear that in this heat?" Tighnari sounded like he's the one wearing it. "Being the general mahamatra could give us unwanted attention. Ready to go?" He flapped his sleeves and Collei gave him a thumbs up and so they resumed their little adventure.

"It's magical." Tighnari was lost for words. Even magical isn't enough to describe the beauty of what's in front of him. "We're lucky it's not raining. Yet." Collei chuckled. "I've heard legends about the woods are being guarded by the Aranaras. "

"What's that?" Tighnari asked with his eyes still fixed on the view.

"Well, they're kinda like the children of the forest. Some kids told me that they've seen one. Although I haven't seen one myself." The girl sighed.

They then heard a loud scream of a man and a little figure that seems to be running towards them. " PLEASE! SPARE ME. IT WASN'T ME!" A big man was running for his life from out of the woods. "What happe-" Collei cut Tighnari off and went in front of him being defensive. "Treasure hoarder." She muttered enough for Tighnari to comprehend. "A what?"

"S-state your business!" Collei showed authority in front the man who's still panicky like he's seen a ghost. "A scholar! It was him! He paid us to spread the dust! Please! Spare me!" He continued to beg and Collei, still on her guard tried to analyze where his words are coming from. It wasn't long until Cyno appeared in the picture. He walked towards the cowering man. Tighnari was feeling a little uneasy like electricity was in the air. "You've spread toxic concoctions in Avidya Forest and now you'll start harming the woods."

The man quickly got up to his feet and swiftly apprehended Collei. Tighnari got pushed back unable to follow what exactly is happening. "COLLEI!" Cyno shouted. "Hah... So it's this game huh..." The man had his arm wrapped around Collei's neck and held a knife on the other. "NO!" Collei went hysterical as she struggled. "LET ME GO! DON'T TOUCH ME!" She continued to struggle and bit the man's arm which ripped giving her an escape.

"You.. little--" Cyno knocked him out in a second. Powder then scattered everywhere near the man's body. "That smells something like catnip." Tighnari dusted himself off and turned to Cyno who just casted his staff away.

"Hey," he slowly approached Collei who was on curled on her knees. "It's me." He spoke to her as gently as he can. "Everything's okay. You're okay." Collei let out a small sob. "I- I-"

"Shh. You don't have to tell me anything. We can stay here and rest until you're better. I'll be here." Cyno reassured her, showing the gentlest smile. Collei nodded, but didn't move from her position. Tighnari felt relieved that after the sudden situation, everything got cleared up. Until he heard a growl from behind him.

"MASTER!"

The rishboland tiger jumped at Tighnari who tried to shield himself with his arm. Cyno without a split second rushed over to Tighnari, hitting the tiger off from him. His right arms were bleeding from the tiger's claws. Tighnari managed to get up, adrenaline still doing its thing. "Can you move?" Cyno kept his eyes on the tiger. "Y-yeah." Tighnari winced from the sting ringing on his arm. "Is that creature a feline? If so," Tighnari took his sash and wrapped it around his bleeding arm, "it's the powder. That big man had a bag on him and some of it got on me."

"Catnip?" Cyno raised a brow as he glanced at Tighnari who's now on guard. "Yeah. Cats love it. They're addicted to it."

The Rishboland attack near Gandharva Ville.

Putting the pieces together, Cyno took a hold of things. "Collei, can you make it doze off?" He turned to take a quick glance at Collei who's now a bit more back to her senses. "Y-yes!" She got her bow out and aimed at the tiger that's preparing to attack. Infusing her arrow with dendro, Collei fired her shot, landing at the tiger's leg. The feline growled in pain as it fell on the ground. "Very good."

Collei sighed in relief and once the tiger started to doze off, the three of them fled straight to the Bimarstan in Sumeru City. Cyno had both Tighnari and Collei checked if they had suffered any other injuries and had them tend Tighnari's arm.

Tighnari felt eyes on him alot as if they're gossiping about him.

"The lead forest watcher is here?" "I heard something happened back in Gandharva Ville." "Shh. The General Mahamatra's looking."

What's with the noise? Is 'Tighnari ' such a big name for them to gossip?

Collei approached him, bringing him back from his thoughts. "Is it getting a bit noisy for you? Master doesn't often go to Sumeru City because his ears would hurt from too much noise." She chuckled apologetically. "Ahaha. Yeah, it is getting a bit noisy in here." He grinned back at her. "It's almost night time. The city's a little bit more quiet now. Wanna take a stroll? You know, before you go back home." Her eyes were facing down.

"Of course! We only just rested and no way am I going to miss the main city before I go back." Tighnari felt that Collei was starting to feel down since their little adventure was about to end. They both got out of Bimarstan and Cyno was out of sight. "Where's Cyno?"

"He told me he went to the Sanctuary of Sur- Hmm... Surasthana?" She scratched her head. "He said he'll meet us near the Akademiya afterwards so you can meet the dendro archon." "Then I'll be able to go home." Tighnari muttered to himself.

Wait for me, Cyno.

Note: Heellooo. Apparently I can't squeeze everything into 1 chapter. Last chapter is rlly rlly the last. :'D

#genshin impact #cyno x tighnari #cynonari #cynari

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cozy-the-overlord · 2 years

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I posted 1,373 times in 2022

391 posts created (28%)

982 posts reblogged (72%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cozy-the-overlord

@naterson

@gaitwae

@lokislittlesigyn

@elly-hiddlesherloki

I tagged 1,298 of my posts in 2022

Only 5% of my posts had no tags

#cozy reblog - 785 posts

#thanks for the ask :) - 167 posts

#writing things - 111 posts

#cozy writes - 108 posts

#taylor swift - 102 posts

#self reblog - 100 posts

#friends - 94 posts

#ask me things pls i'm bored - 86 posts

#loki marvel - 74 posts

#loki fanfic - 69 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#wasn’t going to reblog but then i read ‘now that larry looks to be on the horizon of replacing boris johnson as prime minister’ 😂😂😂😂😂

My Top Posts in 2022:

Burning the Midnight Oil

Summary: You’re alone and miserable, up far too late losing your mind over an essay that isn’t even due tomorrow when Loki pops in with flowers.

Word Count: 1,858

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: So this is a reader fic, but also the reader is literally just me. I usually don’t like writing super obviously personal self-indulgent fluff, but I’ve had an incredibly shitty week and just ended up writing this in my notebook yesterday. This isn’t really edited, and it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense (like ... don’t question how Loki ended up dating a random college student), but it was therapeutic to write and I figured I might as well post it. Also, the line Loki reads aloud is from Sonnet 29, a poem that has absolutely nothing to do thematically with this story, but it’s my favorite sonnet and I wanted Loki to read it to me so don’t judge.

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Implied depression

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

Your back hurts.

Everything hurts, actually. These dorm-issued chairs are not designed with long-term comfort in mind, and you’ve been sitting here hunched at your desk for a while now, several hours at least. There had still been light streaming through your weather-beaten blinds when you first sat down to work, but the sun had long since faded beneath the horizon—in fact, if your roommate had been here, she probably would have asked you a while ago in her soft, amiable manner if it was okay if she turned off the big ceiling light, her polite way of telling you to get the fuck off your laptop and go to bed. But your roommate isn’t here—she’s staying over at her asshole damned-lucky-to-have-her boyfriend’s apartment, a last-minute decision that left you alone and unsupervised for the night.

You’re fine though. It’s good to have time to yourself. Hell, there was a time where the prospect of a night of solitude would send you jumping for joy. It’s just … well, you have a tendency of turning a vacant room into an echo chamber to your thoughts, and these days your thoughts haven’t exactly been the kind of thing you enjoy being alone with.

It doesn’t matter. Tonight, you’re fine—you have a distraction. This essay isn’t due until Friday, but you’ve determined to finish it tonight, and now you can’t go to bed until the final period has been typed. It’s a messy business, essay writing. All night, you’ve known nothing but the relentless back and forth between the brilliant spark of a fresh idea that leaves you feeling like a genius and the all-consuming urge to bash your laptop against the wall over and over and over again before you allow your professor to lay her eyes on the wretched piece. At the moment, you’re beginning to stumble back into the latter, but you force yourself to swallow your self-contempt and keep going. It doesn’t matter how awful it is, just that it’s finished. Then you can lie on your heating pad and fall asleep to the sound of a YouTube art video you’ve watched a million times before.

“What are you still doing up?”

You jump at the question, nearly knocking your computer from its precarious position perched on the edge of your desk. Loki reaches around you to steady it with one hand—the other is supporting a vase the size of your head blooming with vibrant daffodils.

“Forgive me,” he says. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You let out a breath that’s shakier than you intended. One would think that after nearly a year of dating a literal magic extraterrestrial man of myth, you wouldn’t even bat an eye at his habit of just … appearing, but there are still times when it makes your heart race.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to drop these off. I saw them earlier, and I know you said they were your favorite …” He trails off, motioning to the daffodils as he sets the vase on your desk. You inhale. He’s right—they are your favorites, and you find yourself smiling at the playful yellow buds, basking in a kind of warmth you’ve been lacking.

“They’re beautiful,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

Loki chuckles, somewhat sheepishly. “I had meant them as a surprise for when you awakened in the morning. I assumed you would have been asleep by now. What are you still doing up?”

“Oh.” The headache previously flushed away by the flowers returns. You gesture vaguely at your computer screen. “Essay.”

“Ah.” He nods, scanning the document over your shoulder. “Have you been working on this all night? You must be exhausted.”

“Eh.” You shrug, trying and failing to crack an easy grin. “I’m alright.” You don’t need to look at him to feel the concern in his gaze.

But to your relief, he doesn’t voice it. Instead, he moves to rub your shoulders, a gentle massage that you didn’t realize you had been fantasizing about. You let out a sigh, leaning back in the Chair of Agony and melting into his touch.

“May I ask what the topic is?”

“Oh.” You inhale. “Well, it’s about socially constructed gender roles in The Convent of Pleasure. Like, how they’re so pervasive that even characters actively attempting to break free of them struggle to separate what is truly natural and what society has deemed to be natural. And, you know, how that’s still a thing in today’s society.”

You’re talking too much. You know it, even as you sit there rattling off your thesis. But Loki sounds genuinely intrigued

“That’s fascinating.”

See the full post

104 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

Taking Notes

Summary: You need a whiteboard. Loki offers to be of assistance.

Word Count: 1,926

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: This spawned when I was obsessively outlining my creative writing honors thesis and complaining that I needed a whiteboard, and @naterson jokingly suggested I write on Loki. This is very silly and ridiculous and not particularly good, but I finished it so I figured I might as well post it. I pictured this reader being the same as that in Burning The Midnight Oil, but this isn't a sequel or anything-- you don't need to read that to understand this.

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Shirtlessness? Loki is shirtless for most of this, but it’s all very silly and innocent-- nothing sexual

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

“Okay,” you say, and bite your lip. The marker is thinner than you expected it to be, but that doesn’t stop you from anxiously clicking the cap on and off and on and off again, the snapping noise blending into the backdrop of your notes-strewn dorm as you study your … canvas. “Are you ready?”

You can’t see Loki’s face from where he’s standing, face towards the wall and bare back to you, but you can tell he’s smirking. “As I’ll ever be, darling.” He stretches his arms out behind him, flexing the lean muscles of his shoulders, and chuckles at your soft inhale.

Cheeks aflame, you uncap the marker a final time and prepare to write.

Luckily your roommate is gone tonight, because you don’t think you would be able to explain this to her. You’re not even sure you can explain it to yourself. It had started when Loki arrived earlier this evening— it’s become an implicit understanding that he stay the night whenever your roommate is out, something you’re exceedingly grateful for (it spares you from the shame of having to admit you hate spending nights alone)—to find the unhinged chaos of a notorious procrastinator flying around the room, trying to do a month’s worth of work in two days.

“I need a whiteboard!” you had shouted at him, rummaging through your notes like a raccoon in a dumpster. The outline for your honors thesis was due at the end of the week, and there was too much to write, too much to keep track of, too much to see all at once. You had been violently suppressing the urge to go “fuck it” and just start writing on the wall above your bed.

Loki, for his part, had seem torn between confusion and amusement. “I beg your pardon?”

“A whiteboard!” You couldn’t find the scrap of paper with the character names you decided upon. “I need to write it all out so I can see it!”

Sometimes, you wonder what it would be like to have a normal boyfriend. How would a regular person have responded to such a dilemma? Suggest taping your notes to the wall, perhaps? Offer to help you organize everything? Certainly not smirk like a little gremlin with mischief in his eyes and purr, “Well, you could write it on me.”

Then again, you were the one who, after realizing that this was an offer put forth in the upmost sincerity, cocked your head to the side and said “okay.”

It had been goofy, the two of you rushing off to make a post-midnight Walgreens run for body markers (Loki had been fully prepared to let you scribble all over his back in Sharpie, but you had to draw the line somewhere), goofy in a fun, silly sort of way. It was cathartic—after so many hours stuffed away in your stuffy little dorm, the night air was fresh on your skin, and it felt good to giggle. But now, holding the marker just above his shoulder blades, you suddenly feel overwhelmed in a wave of self-consciousness.

“Don’t keep me waiting, darling,” Loki teases, but when you don’t answer he turns behind him to look at you. “Is something wrong?”

You hesitate. “This is weird.” You glance back up at him, not sure what you’re seeking. “This is weird, right?”

“Very,” he agrees. “But that doesn’t make it any less delightful.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Me taking notes all over your back is delightful?”

“Of course!” Loki smiles. “Any moment spent with you is delightful.”

Oh. Well that’s just incredibly sweet. Your eyes drop to the floor, unable to hold his gaze nor stifle the grin spreading across your face.

He’s laughing at your reaction, but it’s a warm sound, so light and airy it makes you feel weightless. “Do you still wish to continue?”

You mumble a yes, toying with the marker cap as he turns back towards the wall. Goodness, his back. His back is so gorgeous. You feel slightly lascivious, just ogling him like this, but you can’t help yourself. He’s just so smooth. You want to run your fingers down his spine, trace the lines of his body beneath your hands. You’ll never get over how soft his skin is. You love lying in bed with him, head on his chest, drawing circles on his stomach with your finger as he sleepily plays with your hair.

But enough of that thought.

Loki twitches when you write the first letter, and you pull back in an instinctual panic.

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109 notes - Posted September 9, 2022

A Friend From Work

Summary: Loki pops into your lab one day at Stark Tower. Things just get weirder from there.

Word Count: 5,084

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: This is for the lovely @naterson, whose birthday is today and who has said in the past that she loves the idea of an engineer reader working for Tony Stark. I definitely wouldn’t say that this is my best work-- it was a bit out of my comfort zone-- but I really wanted to give her that for her birthday. Happy birthday, Nat! I hope you have a great day <3<3<3

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Slight violence/hostage situation at the end

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

The first time you meet Loki is in your lab.

When he comes in, you’re nearly finished deconstructing a Chitauri particle gun, its guts splayed out across your table in a delicate ecosystem of wires and metallic parts. It’s been a neck-breaking process, equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. It still feels impossible to comprehend that the pieces in your hands were created on another planet, in another galaxy. That you are allowed to even hold this technology feels illegal, let alone to experiment with it.

For this reason, you don’t notice him right away. You’re too engrossed in your work to pay attention to the doorway behind you. It’s only after several minutes pass that the familiar tingle runs down your spine—that feeling of not being alone, of being watched. Your hands fall still. You whip around and yelp.

He’s just standing there behind you, dark curls slicked back over an expression of benign interest. At your cry, he cracks a smile that is somehow both equal parts apologetic and cocky.

“Good afternoon,” he grins. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Your pulse is racing. You had known that Loki is now stationed with the Avengers, with relative free rein of the tower. He’s not supposed to be dangerous—if he was, he’d be under a much more severe lock and key. But there’s still something about having the extraterrestrial responsible for the destruction of New York just casually moseying about your lab that sends your heart to your throat.

“How did you get in here?” Your hand flies beneath the table, where the red panic button rests against your fingers. It would trigger a lockdown sequence across the entire building, shutting down your floor immediately and dispatching agents to your location at once. You’ve never had to press it before, and you’re not particularly eager to now.

“I walked. The door was open, after all.” He nods in the direction of the hall, towards the door you were perpetually forgetting to lock, and flashes another smile. “It’s just that I’m in between assignments at the moment, and there’s precious little to do upstairs.”

You frown. Somehow, a bored immortal being once worshipped as a mischief god hanging around a tech lab sounds like a recipe for disaster. “Does Stark know you’re down here?”

“I’m sure he does. After all, if he didn’t, wearing these would certainly be a waste on my part.” Loki gives a nonchalant wave, showing off the silver bangle latched on to each wrist. They had been a non-negotiable in the agreement that sent Loki to work alongside the Avengers after the events in New York—Tony Stark had been particularly proud of himself for designing cuffs that could impede an Asgardian’s magic. You suppose it stands to reason he would have included a tracking device within them as well.

Still, you’re a bit hesitant. “JARVIS?” you call. “Does Mr. Stark know Loki’s in the labs?”

The clipped mechanical voice responds in an instant. “I have alerted him to that reality, Doctor.”

Loki grins. “See? No need to fret.” He takes a step forward, gazing at the mechanical parts strewn about your workspace. “What is it you’re doing here? Performing a dissection?”

You eye him suspiciously, backing away as he moves towards you. “I’m trying to reactivate the energy core.” It’s no secret, after all. It’s practically become a competition among Stark’s engineers over who can get the Chitauri tech functioning again first.

Loki sniffs. “Ah yes, of course. Mortals and their never-ceasing lust for power.”

“Lust for power’s got nothing to do with it,” you bristle. “I just want to see how this thing works.” You hesitate. “You wouldn’t be able to help with that, would you? You have experience with these weapons.” Although perhaps it’s a stupid question. Stark had probably gotten any and all useful information out of him a while ago.

The god chuckles. “I’m afraid mechanics were never my strong suit.” He eyes the seemingly defunct energy core, free from its nest of wires lodged within the particle gun. “Although I do recall that those can be highly volatile when exposed as you have it there.”

You can’t say that’s particularly groundbreaking insight. “Yeah, I know. But it’s no danger when it’s not functional.”

“Perhaps. But I’d be careful. It takes very little to set them off.”

The door slams, and now another figure his blustering into your lab, glaring daggers at your visitor, and you’re gulping air again because oh look, it’s your boss.

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253 notes - Posted June 2, 2022

Birdsong

Summary: In the middle of the night, Loki gets up to comfort his infant daughter and thinks about how lucky he is.

Word Count: 1,087

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

A/N: I didn't really plan to write this, but @naterson was talking about Loki being a father to a baby on Discord and it reminded me of a scene from a much larger story I think about a lot but don't plan on ever writing. I usually don't like writing fluff, but I ended up sitting down yesterday and writing this by hand in about an hour and it was genuinely quite lovely. So this one's for you, Nat!

(And if you were wondering, Nat chose the baby name, although she didn't know what she was choosing XD)

Warnings: None

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

Loki liked to lay awake at night.

It would have surprised you—when the two of you first met, he had found nights to be something horrific, a time where creeping creatures of the dark melded with monsters within his mind, tormenting him with violent memories of an inescapable past. But now, years later, the night meant something different to him. He laid in bed and admired the world steeped in darkness, soothed by the piercing song of the nightingale and the slow, steady sound of your breathing.

And occasionally, the shrill cries of a frightened infant.

At the sound of your daughter, Loki felt you stir besides him almost immediately—it was an instinctual reaction at this point, something several sleepless months of parenthood had well cultivated—but before you could fully sit up, he pressed you back into bed.

“I’ll take care of it,” he whispered, stroking a clump of hair from your face so he could press a kiss to your temple. “Go back to sleep.”

You truly were exhausted, it seemed, because you relaxed back against your pillow without even the slightest attempt to argue. Loki smiled, stroking a clump of hair from your face so he could press a kiss to your temple. Poor darling. Between the unfamiliar setting and beautifully taxing nature of the baby, he knew you hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in over half a year. The three of you would be returning to Midgard soon, and he hoped that once home you would find it at least a bit easier to relax.

Infant wails still flooded the air, and so Loki pulled himself from the warm cocoon of blankets and bedsheets and shuffled across the hall to the tiny room just besides your own. Charlie was sitting up in her crib—she had been sitting by herself lately, to Loki’s intense pride, as well as rolling and scooting around on her stomach. She hiccupped over her little sobs as she cried, gulping when Loki entered, but not stopping.

“Now what’s wrong, my precious meyla?” he cooed, scooping her into his arms and rocking her against his chest. Charlie sniffled, but she was soon distracted by a clump of his own hair, reaching out to clutch at the strands with her tiny fingers. Loki held in his laugh as she tugged. She was just so small. Every time he looked at her, he found himself in awe at her littleness, marveling at how something so small, so delicate, so wondrously perfect, could come from him. It had to have been your influence. Loki certainly wasn’t capable of creating something so beautiful.

Her tears seemed to have abated, but Loki continued to rock her gently, making his way across the room to the window overlooking the back of the palace. Asgard’s gardens were still shrouded in darkness, but smallest pinpricks of light were beginning to creep from the horizon and into the star-streaked sky. Somewhere in the trees, the nightingale continued its song. For a moment they merely stood, letting nature’s sweet music wash over them both as they gazed across the realm.

You and Loki hadn’t planned to remain on Asgard for so long. After all, you both were happily settled on Midgard, where you could be close to your family and Loki could be at a satisfying distance from his—the only reason you had decided to give birth on his home planet (if one could call it that) was due to the medical concerns of being a human carrying the child of a Frost Giant. The potential for complications was very real, and while nothing could stop the anxious pacing that kept him up all throughout your third trimester, knowing that you were in the hands of the finest healers in the Nine Realms did somewhat allay his concerns. You both looked forward to returning home, but Loki had to admit that there was something magical about being able to share the world in which had grown up with the family he never thought he could have.

He held Charlie to the window, so that she might look out upon the gardens as well. “Isn’t it pretty, little heart?” he whispered. “Not near as pretty as you are, though.”

She cooed, blinking at him sleepily. She had your eyes—Loki had nearly cried when she firsts looked upon him, those same precious gemstones for which he had already known he’d happily fight and die to keep them sparkling. They lit up the same as yours did when she laughed, angelic little giggles that made Loki feel practically weightless with elation. He loved hearing her laugh. He carried the sound in his heart like a badge of honor, proud in the knowledge that no matter his past, no matter his failing, he had been graced with this perfect little girl’s smile.

Charlie was nodding off now, resting her drowsy head against his shoulder. Carefully, Loki laid her back in her crib. He was humming, without really realizing it—humming along to the nightingale’s song until it turned into some nonsensically affectionate lullaby his mother had sang to him in his youth. The realization made him chuckle. He had never though much of singing until he met you, your earnest insistence in the beauty of his voice breaking down the barriers of insecurity he had so long upheld around everything about himself. You cajoled him into singing to you as you laid against each other in bed; soft, silly little folk songs he recalled from childhood. He was grateful for the darkness then, so you could not see how his face flushed red. And yet, here he was now, a father singing his child to sleep without even the slightest modicum of unease. You would be proud.

Loki sighed as the nightingale’s song drew to a close. Sometimes he wondered if it was all a mistake. Surely, he had done nothing in his life to deserve such happiness. Every morning, he half expected to awaken alone and find it was all a dream—a lovely, beautiful dream that he could never hope to hold. And yet, day after day, the two of you remained, his two perfect girls, who meant more to him than life itself.

Charlie twitched in her sleep, the tiniest of kicks, and Loki smiled. He wondered what she was dreaming of. Dawn was beginning to creep over the horizons, but Loki didn’t care. Even in the dark, he had everything he could ever want.

257 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Orange is the Happiest Color

Summary: “I had a dream that you proposed to me with an orange.”

He chuckled, relaxing back into his pillow. “Did you say yes?”

Word Count: 2,657

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: So I had a dream about Loki proposing with an orange. I drew this. And then I wrote this. It’s very stupid. I’m not sure I’m happy with it. Here it is. Don’t take it too seriously.

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: None

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

“I had a dream that you proposed to me with an orange.”

It was a strange way to begin the morning. Loki raised his eyebrows as he rolled to his side, propping his head up with his hand and studying you with a sleepy sort of amusement. “You dreamt I did what?”

“You proposed with an orange.” The words felt silly on your tongue, but it was still early in the morning, with only the slightest hints of sunlight slipping through the slits in the curtain to where the two of you lay tangled in blankets. It was sleepy enough to be silly. “We were in an orange grove. You opened two halves of an orange like a ring box, got down on one knee, and proposed.”

Loki chuckled, a lazy puff of breath escaping his lips as he relaxed back into his pillow. “Did you say yes?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard. Frowning, you tried to recall. The dream now felt distant and murky, something that faded a bit more with every waking moment spent beyond it. There were little more than still images left behind now—the sweet taste of citrus on the air, Loki’s goofy grin as he knelt before you, the wild wave of ecstasy that crashed through your soul at the realization …

“Yeah, I did.” You smiled. The memory was so warm, like reclining into a hot bath after a long day. “I said yes.”

Loki laughed again and pulled you close against his chest so he could press a kiss to your temple. You snuggled against his sternum, lulled by the steady beat of his heart. The room had gone silent again, a contemplative quiet.

Maybe you shouldn’t have told him the dream. It drifted too close to the unspoken. You and Loki had talked about marriage before, but nothing really beyond vague little allusions back when you had first started seeing each other two years ago. The situation was rather … difficult, you supposed the word was—when one partner’s biology would cause them to outlive the other’s by several millennia, planning for the future wasn’t exactly the optimistic conversation it was often cracked up to be. The two of you had elected to ignore the hulking bilgesnipe in the room and simply enjoy each day as it came. But the topic continued to simmer beneath the surface. Clearly.

Why else would you be dreaming of proposals?

But the two of you would have to wait to jump into a deep dive dream analysis, because the bedroom had barely been quiet a minute before Loki’s Avengers-branded communicator exploded into its usual obnoxious tirade of beeps and buzzes from where it had been exiled to the floor the night before.

Loki groaned, propelling himself to a sitting post even as you continued to cling to his shoulders.

“Can’t you ignore it?” you whined. “Just this once?”

He laughed, attempting to squirm out of your grasp—although you were nearly certain he was only doing so for appearance’s sake, because you both knew well enough that if he wished he could shrug you off with the flick of his wrist.

“If I do, they’ll break down your apartment door in their crusade to drag me there themselves,” he laughed. “And that would make quite the mess of your lovely doormat.”

“Let them try. They’ll have to go through me,” you declared. “I just got you back, and now they’re going to send you away again—”

“It won’t be long—”

“You don’t know that—”

“Darling, I promise—”

“That’s what you said last time.” You pouted, even though you knew you were being childish. It wasn’t Loki’s fault. The terms of his sentence, the terms that kept him out of an Asgardian prison and free to live by your side in the first place, mandated that he must assist the Avengers in any way required, at any point required, regardless of his personal desires. He was their muscle and their errand boy all at once, the red shirts sent in to handle situations too dangerous or too tedious to risk the other Avengers. These missions could take up to a couple of days to a couple of weeks to a couple of months, and often you found yourself left in the dark with no contact with which to determine when he was coming home, or if he was coming back at all. You hated it, and Loki knew it.

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312 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #feels good that my top five posts were all stories #that feels really good actually

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