#was prompted by a silly idea i had in response to something silly i drew for a discord im in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohtobealady · 1 year

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October Prompts

As a penance for not getting my latest chapter out on time, I've decided to embark on a month-long prompt challenge. Is it counterintuitive? Perhaps, but I hope it'll help work as a whetstone to my dulled writer's brain. I'm using this prompt list.

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1 October: Beginnings

She could hear his heartbeat beneath her head, steady and comforting against her ear. It wasn’t often that they laid this way: his arm pulling her close, her head nestled beneath his chin, her nose tilted up into the space at his throat. But they’d both felt too far apart, the last few weeks too trying to be together properly … and tonight their first attempt at sex in weeks had failed miserably.

Oh, her awful treatment had been helping, of course, but there were still some days when she could hardly keep her eyes open after dinner. And oh, they did try; they both endeavored to arouse the other in the ways they’d learned together over the last four decades. He pulled her toward him—his big hands at her upper arms, her hips, her neck—kissing her; she brushed her fingers along his breast, his jaw, gently tugging the soft waves of his hair at the back of his head. But it was no use: she was too tired even when she wanted to be with him more than words could say.

“No. I’ve told you before, do not apologize to me,” he’d said as she sighed contritely. “Come, let us make the best of things.”

And Robert had held his arm out for her, and she’d fallen into the warmth of his body where they remained even now, a half hour later, the exhaustion that’d stopped her from making love somehow not nearly enough for sleep.

And when enough comfortable silence had passed between them, Cora nestled further and kissed the soft fabric of his nightshirt beneath her.

“Darling?” she whispered.

“Hmm?” His hummed response was sleepy, but he pulled her closer all the same.

She hesitated before she asked him, before she let the silly, romantic ideas that had danced around her mind be out in the space between them.

He shifted beneath her, and she drew in a breath of him. No, she reminded herself. It wasn’t silly.

“Tell me something you’ve never shared with me before.”

And now he hesitated. “What?”

“Something you’ve never told me. Something nice.” She lifted her head slightly and looked at the fire-lit lines of his face. “In lieu of sex.”

“Must you say it that way?”

Cora rolled her eyes, but laughed. “In lieu of intimacy, then. Tell me something private—just for us.”

He grumbled, and his shoulder moved.

“Please? I’m so disappointed I don’t feel well enough for sex, I—“

“—Cora, no—“

“—want to feel closer to you. That’s all.”

Robert sighed. “But I’m not sure there’s anything you don’t already know.”

“Certainly there must be,” she ran her finger along the silver stubble at his jaw. “Something you’ve kept to yourself?”

“No,” he affirmed. “I can’t think, really.”

“Oh…” she groaned.

“And you? Surely you can think of nothing.”

Cora lifted her eyes to peer around them, at the room she’d spent most of her life’s nights in, and she looked back at him. “I can.”

He evidently did not believe her, and she pouted as he laughed. “My dear, I’m afraid we’ve reached the point in our marriage, indeed our lives, where we may know more about the other person than we do ourselves.”

“That can’t be true,” she grinned. “There’s got to be something you’ve never told me? I can think of at least three or four things you’ve never known.”

“Can you indeed?”

Cora chuckled and rested her head back upon his breast. “Yes. Things from nearly another lifetime ago now.” Her fingers found a button of his pajama shirt and she scraped her nail on it. “But things all the same.”

“I see,” his hand found hers and stilled it. “Go on, then. Though don’t be surprised if you’ve told me before.”

Again, she angled her chin up, her nose finding the space against his throat, and she exhaled a long breath. She wouldn’t look at him as she told him—couldn’t bear to—but she’d told herself to let herself be vulnerable with him. When she thought her illness would be her life’s ending, she knew she wanted the rest of her life to be free from the fear she felt at telling her family — telling him — of her love. “Do you remember our engagement?”

“I have a vague recollection,” he chuckled, and she smiled against his neck.

“Well, you know what I mean. It’s from then: when we were engaged to be married.”

“Nearly forty years ago,” he said softly, though Cora wasn’t sure if to her. But she felt his arm draw her closer.

“It was when I was back in New York, and we were writing to one another. I’d write to you every day, long silly letters with nothing of substance because I was afraid I’d … well … that you’d been a sort of dream — that I’d dreamt you up. I wanted to keep you real.”

He was quiet for a moment before she felt his thumb brush her upper arm. “You didn’t send them, though?” His voice was quieter. “I got quite a few but not six months’ worth.”

“No,” her face grew warm, but she fought away her embarrassment. “I sent you the ones I thought were written best. I rewrote some to send you. I didn’t want you to think me frightfully dull, or dim-witted.”

“Huh,” he chortled. “I did not think you dull. Even then.”

Cora closed her eyes, and she finished. “And I slept with the letters you sent me beneath my pillow.”

She heard a small rumble of laughter in his chest and she furrowed her brow; her cheeks still hot, she picked up her head. “What? You aren’t laughing at me, I trust.”

“No. It’s nothing. Only you were right. You’d not told me that before.”

She lay her head back down, and she grinned again. “I know.”

“And?”

She blinked. And she hummed in question.

“And? During the Boers? Did you do it then?”

His voice wasn’t teasing anymore, and Cora felt the shift in the space around them: closer, stiller…it was exactly what she had wanted. Vulnerability. Intimacy. The thin as gossamer line between his life and hers growing ever thinner until at last, it wasn’t there at all. Only one.

“Write to you every day?”

“No,” his thumb brushed her arm again. “Sleep with my letters beneath your pillow.”

She shook her head against him. “No,” she answered truthfully. “It wouldn’t have soothed the ache for you, anyway.” She ran her fingertips along his shoulder and took in a deep breath, remembering keenly the hollowness she felt night after night all those years ago. “I kept them locked in my desk.” She continued. “Away from the girls.”

To her surprise, she heard another small chuckle, and she found herself biting her lip. “Likely for the best to have locked them away. I recall a few being erm … how shall I put it?”

“Desirous?” she provided through her smile.

The rumble of laughter was louder. “Desperate, more like.”

And this time she laughed aloud, as well.

“Very well,” he sighed after a moment. “What do you want to hear, hmm? When I first fell in love with you? The beginning of it all?”

Cora had not stopped smiling yet, and now it grew wider. “Oh, but I know that one,” she said against his chest, his heart still beating beneath her. “Our first Christmas.”

“No.”

Cora lifted herself up and away from him. “But yes. You loved me then.”

“I did, yes, but that isn’t when I first knew.”

Cora blinked at him, shocked. “What? Really? Earlier?”

To her slight annoyance he laughed again. “Yes, as I’ve told you before. It wasn’t as long as you think. Why? Does it surprise you?”

“No,” she really meant yes, but, “it’s only … well, I don’t remember it that way.”

“No I suspect you wouldn’t as it’s my memory and not your own.”

“But…when?”

She looked at him in the firelight. She looked at his eyes, his mouth. She looked at the way his brows softened, just a touch, when he brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek.

And she knew.

She suddenly realized she knew.

A night like this, only it was thirty-eight years before. Their hair darker. Their skin smoother. Their bodies whole and healthier.

Cora could almost imagine him that way now, if she let her vision relax, if she let the firelight perform its shadow magic. She could imagine him — remember him — that late summer night in London, the last night of their first married Season, his thinner fingers brushing softly along her cheek, smiling up at her as she peered down at him in bed, a tangle of sheets around them.

And the vulnerability she was after, the intimacy, began to choke her. She rested her face against his nightshirt; she angled her nose up to the space made just for her, sheltered by his chin.

“We were in London—“

“—Never mind,” she whispered to him.

“What’s that?” She could hear the rumble of his words in his chest.

She swallowed. “I don’t really need to know. I know enough.”

“Do you?” She felt him press his mouth to the top of her head, and she closed her eyes. “You know? You know that I have loved you very much, and for so long?”

She nodded against him, and at some length she brought her face up to see him again. “And I love you,” she barely whispered, but she was rewarded with a smile.

“You do,” he agreed. “I know.”

#cobert drabbles #downton abbey fanfic #cobert october

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legions-tape · 2 years

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‘ i did violence to my own heart . ’

Joey had to stop what he was doing. This sounded serious

It wasn't something he was expecting to hear, not from his leader. The leader who seemed to understand how to bottle up his emotions perfectly, while Joey didn't know how. Once Joey showed one ounce of emotion, he was a waterfall, spilling every word until he had no air left in his lungs to breathe. He found himself to be the complete opposite of Frank, but that's what drew him closer to the one he claimed as one of his best friends.

But here Frank was, sounding like he was implying he self sabotaged himself, and that worried Joey immensely.

"Dude..." He breathed, trying to decide if he should put his hand on Frank's shoulder, or just leave him be. His friend didn't seem to be one for touches, but that wasn't something Joey judged, or complained about, he respected him. He always had. Joey's hand quickly went back down to his side. "...Listen...I..." Man, this was hard. He wanted to be there, he wanted to support his leader, no! His friend. The tattooed male sounded like he was opening up to him, and what he wanted more then ever was to remind Frank that he cared. so. much.

But Joey didn't want to go stepping on toes here either, that would be bad, so what was the right call?

A simple idea came to his mind, one that always made him feel better when his emotions went all over the place. "This...sounds like something cookies might solve...?" Did that sound wrong?! Did it sound like he was dismissing his friend's feelings for some silly sugary sweets? "No, shit-" He breathed, rubbing his arm nervously. Maybe he was just overreacting, paranoid really, that he was upsetting the one he looked up to a lot for many different reasons. "That came off wrong. I-- I know it won't solve all the problems, I'm sorry, man.." Joey shook his head before letting out a deep breath. Okay. Time to rephrase this, let Frank know that he wanted to listen and help. "Whatever you're feeling...Let's...dive into some cookies and talk about, yeah? I'm here for you." And this time... He gave his friend a smile, revealing the small gap between his two front teeth.

So very lovely to meet you, hope you enjoy this lil response back! You are wonderful, and thank you so dearly for sending a lil prompt. It was so fun to do, and my first ever one! I appreciate you, dear. ♥ And forgive me, I am new around Tumblr, hopefully I am aesthetic enough, hah.

Admin Ellie ♥

#(●’◡’●)ﾉ Joey has replied!#❥ Response #❥ Ask Response #❥ Dead By Daylight #❥ DBD #❥ Admin Note Included

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years

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Promp idea: Jaskier finds a new born Griffin and Griffin thinks Jaskier is the mom. It starts to follow him. Like how hard it can be being a mother of a cute but deadly baby.

hello my dear <3 Ahh I am so so sorry it took me forever to get to this prompt! But better late than never, right? *laughs nervously*

word count: 1877

warnings: none

pairing: Geraskier, pre-relationship

AO3

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Geralt spent more time than necessary brushing down Roach. If anyone had asked for the reason, he would have told a lie, or more likely just grunted noncommittally. Anything but tell the truth, which was that facing Roach allowed him to smile like an idiot without Jaskier seeing it. If the bard were to see that his ramblings made Geralt drop his mask of gruffness, Geralt would never hear the end of it.

“- really is heart-warming how much you care about Roach,” Jaskier said from where he said on the forest floor, something he would never have done when they had first met – or at least, he wouldn’t have done so without complaining about getting dirt on his breeches. “There’s nothing more charming than a man who takes care of animals, wouldn’t you agree?”

Geralt’s hand accidentally brushed against the braids Jaskier had plaited into Roach’s mane, while Geralt had been away on a hunt this morning. He faltered, but then he gripped the brush tighter, doing his best to pretend he hadn’t reacted to Jaskier’s words at all, when really, he couldn’t help but think that Jaskier was right.

Each winter, when Eskel brought Lil’ Bleater inside the keep to make sure she wouldn’t be cold, Geralt would feel a new wave of affection for his brother. When he saw a pompous lord drop all decorum and posture to bend down to pet a cat, Geralt would feel an unreasonable sort of respect for the otherwise stuffy and unlikable noble.

And when Jaskier snuck Roach treats when he thought Geralt wasn’t looking, he – well. He was glad that his travel companion was someone who got along with Roach. Her liking him was the main reason why Geralt had let Jaskier travel with them. He couldn’t break Roach’s heart by making her leave one of the few friends she made on the Path. Empathy for Roach - that was all he felt as he thought of her and Jaskier together. Definitely.

“Say, Geralt, how would you feel about getting another pet? Hypothetically speaking.”

Geralt huffed, his lips twitching up.

“I have already enough work feeding and cleaning up after you, songbird.”

“Excuse me?” Geralt didn’t need to see Jaskier’s face to know his mouth was opened with indignation. “Well – I have enough work washing and brushing your hair. Between the two of us, you’re the one who gets muck everywhere, wolf.” There was a brief pause. “But…that means you wouldn’t want another pet?”

Geralt’s shoulders sagged as he sighed and finally gave up on his pretence of brushing Roach. He turned, carelessly tossing the brush to the bags sitting on the ground next to Jaskier.

“Careful!” Jaskier squealed.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Calm down. I didn’t hit you, did I?”

“Well, no, but –“ A strange noise coming from bags made Jaskier stiffen, his eyes widening, before his smile turned painfully artificial. “As I was saying, it is very rude of you to just throw-“

“Quiet,” Geralt hissed, his eyes not leaving the bags.

Jaskier shifted his weight on the ground and it was obvious he was avoiding looking at the bags. “Now really, I know you just love complaining about my voice, but –“

“Jaskier.”

Geralt’s tone made Jaskier’s mouth snap shut.

For a moment, there was utter silence. Then the strange noise returned and the bags began to move.

With slow and silent steps, Geralt crept closer, praying that Jaskier wouldn’t panic and make any sudden movements that would startle whatever was lurking in their bags and make it attack the helpless bard.

With one hand, Geralt unsheathed his silver sword. The other hand he held up in a signal for Jaskier to remain calm.

Jaskier, of course took that as a sign to do the exact opposite. The spiking of his pulse and the sudden scent of nervousness hitting Geralt’s nose were the only warning Geralt got, before Jaskier jumped up. But the bard didn’t run away from the danger into the thicket or to hide behind Geralt. No. He stood in front of the bags, holding up his own hands defensively.

“Geralt, listen. I –“

“Get away from the bags,” Geralt growled, a sudden spike of fear piercing his chest at having Jaskier so close to that unknown thing.

Jaskier only shook his head, a look of determination crossing his face.

“No. This is what I wanted to talk to you about. I…uh… might have acquired a pet? While you were off fighting…that ugly thing with the deadly teeth that I wasn’t allowed to get close to.”

Geralt halted, blinking.

“A pet?” he replied incredulously, lowering his sword.

Jaskier swallowed thickly, his eyes darting to the side, revealing that he was about to lie, even before he opened his mouth.

“Yeah. It’s a cat.”

“A cat.” Geralt repeated deadpan.

Whatever Jaskier saw on his face, he must take it as Geralt believing him, for his own expression flooded with relief. “Yes! A cat.”

“And you kept it hidden from me because…?”

“Because cats don’t like witchers! Or witchers don’t like cats. I’m still not sure about that. But anyway, I thought that maybe, if I got Daisy used to your smell first and talked to you–“

Daisy chose that moment to tumble out of the pile of bags, knocking her small head against Jaskier’s shins in the process.

Geralt and Jaskier both stared dumbly down at her. For once, Geralt was the one who found his voice first.

“A cat, huh?”

“Yes?” A furious blush rose in Jaskier’s cheeks. “In my defence, when I found her I did actually think she was a cat.”

Geralt rubbed a hand over his face, while the griffin-baby that could in no way be mistaken for a cat, began climbing Jaskier’s leg until Jaskier took mercy on her and lifted her up in his arms. He groaned with the effort. The griffin was nearly big enough to obscure the sight of Jaskier’s face. Jaskier’s nose scrunched up adorably – no, there was nothing adorable about an idiot who was snuggling a griffin-baby! – when the griffin’s fur tickled his nose.

“What the fuck made you think that was a cat? Was it the beak?” Geralt lifted a brow, shooting a pointed look at the wiggling beast. “Or maybe the wings?”

Jaskier gave him a decidedly unimpressed look. “It was dark in that cave you left me in! Not all of us have witcher-eyes. And she was alone and happy to keep me company while you were gone on your hunt.”

“Yes,” Geralt said slowly, so that Jaskier couldn’t possibly miss the ‘I-think-you’re-an-idiot’-tone of his voice. “I go on hunts. Where I kill monsters like her.”

Jaskier squawked in outrage, pressing the griffin protectively against his chest. The griffin made a noise not dissimilar to the one Jaskier had just made, but after the shock of being nearly squashed receded, the griffin snuggled contently against Jaskier, chewing happily on the fabric of his doublet.

“She is not a monster! Daisy is a baby and an adorable little darling that would never do anything wrong ever!”

The sound of fabric tearing and a triumphant griffin-shriek disproved Jaskier’s words instantly.

Geralt groaned. He did that far more often since he had started travelling with Jaskier. Life had been so much easier when it had been just him and Roach. No bard who had made it his life’s mission to get in as much easily avoidable trouble as possible.

Life had also been much more boring and lonely without Jaskier. Still.

“She won’t stay a baby forever. Give it two months and she will do more than just tear holes into your clothes.”

Jaskier’s face lit up. “So I can keep her for another two months?”

“I – that’s not – “

“Besides, did you just imply that Daisy tearing holes into my clothes isn’t a bad thing?”

Geralt didn’t dignify that with a response, which Jaskier apparently took as a victory on his side, for he came closer to Geralt, holding Daisy out to him.

“Look at her, Geralt. Look into these eyes and tell me, she isn’t the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.”

Geralt didn’t need to look at her to know that that was objectively untrue. It couldn’t be true, not while Jaskier was standing right in front of him. Still, he indulged Jaskier and reluctantly stared into the little monster’s eyes, glaring at her in the most intimidating way he could. His own eyes reflected back to him from the dark griffin eyes.

An excited noise that almost sounded like purring left the griffin and with her beak, she snapped at Geralt’s hair that had fallen into his face when he had bent down to look at her.

“She likes you!” Jaskier cooed, while Geralt quickly straightened his back and put some distance between his hair and the beak and claws of the griffin. Still, she tried to snatch the strands, not unlike a cat would. Alright, so maybe Jaskier had had a point with that comparison.

That didn’t change the fact that the bard was holding a damn griffin in his arms.

“She’s already practicing hunting,” Geralt said.

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “She’s only playing. Tiny adorable griffins are allowed to play, aren’t they?”

“She won’t stay tiny! Don’t you listen to anything I told you about monsters?”

“Of course I do.” Jaskier lifted his chin in a challenge. “Which is why I know for a fact that we have to keep Daisy.” The narrowing of Jaskier’s eyes stood in stark contrast to the gentleness with which he stroked the griffin’s feathers and fur. “Griffins are reliant on their parents’ care until they learn how to fly. And!” Jaskier added, before Geralt could so much as open his mouth to protest, “You can’t leave me to take care of her on my own, because I also know that griffins mate for life and a griffin baby needs both parents to survive.”

A triumphant grin spread across Jaskier’s lips.

Geralt’s brows drew together. “I am not letting you rope me into becoming that griffin’s parent.”

Jaskier huffed. “Oh please, don’t be silly. Of course you’re not her second parent.”

Small mercies. Geralt was already about to release a sigh of relief, when Jaskier added, “That position’s already filled. Her other parent is Roach.”

And Roach, the traitor, took that as her cue to trod over to them and nose at the little creature in Jaskier’s arms that returned the mare’s greeting.

Geralt stared incredulously at the bard and Jaskier…Jaskier’s eyes softened as he watched that display. His fingers buried into the soft fur of the griffin and he pressed his cheek against the griffin’s head, nuzzling into her. He looked…happy.

Something twisted inside Geralt’s chest. He looked at Roach – a last hope of getting the moral support he needed to keep him from making a very very stupid decision.

But Roach payed him no attention. She huffed some warm breath into the griffin’s face, before nibbling on Jaskier’s already ruined doublet affectionately.

Just like that, Geralt’s fate was sealed. After all, Roach seemed to like Daisy and he couldn’t break her heart.

And…well, Jaskier had been right. There were few things more attractive than a man who liked animals.

#thank you for the prompt!#again sorry for the delay #prompt #my writing #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #roach #witcher #the witcher #fic #fanfic

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youngbeezer · 3 years

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hi!! can I please request something?

going to a lake house, maybe friends to lovers with bowen byram?

thank you! 💗.

A/N: HI IM SO SORRY THIS LITERALLY TOOK 4 EVER!!! i was having such bad writer's block with also zero motivation, but i eventually put a little something together and i hope whoever requested this first off actually sees this bc seriously its been a good month of this sitting in my inbox but also i hope you like it :)

Word Count: 2940

Warning(s): kinda angsty in beginning, curse words, ends fluffy !!!

masterlist || join my taglist

These next few days is either going to turn out to be the best week of the summer, or the most awkward week of the summer...

I’m currently stuck in a car surrounded by couples on our way to a lake house in Colorado. Somehow I ended up being lumped into this chaotic group of professional hockey players and their drop-dead gorgeous significant others.

About a year ago at my local salon, I just so happened to be seated right next to a woman named Grace, who I immediately hit it off with. We became fast friends and are now basically inseparable at this point. Her boyfriend just so happens to play hockey for the Colorado Avalanche, Cale Makar. Now I have also grown quite close with Cale as well, since I am always at their shared apartment for Grace. At this point Cale is basically third wheeling us, instead of it being the other way around. Therefore I was also always invited to team parties and get-togethers, which prompted more friendships with most of the guys on the team and their respective partners.

Someone I have surprisingly grown super close with is Bowen Byram. As soon as Cale introduced us two, his blue eyes and raspy voice immediately drew me in. Straight away we bonded over common interests and that night we talked for almost three hours. After that, we were thick as thieves. So thick that recently I have come to the realization that I have caught major feelings for him along the way.

It has only been a few weeks since I have come to this realization and it has already started to affect our relationship. I definitely started to ignore Bowen a little bit when I first figured out my feelings because I was scared he would somehow find out or I would just end up blurting it out at some point. And the last thing I want is for my silly feelings to ruin such a great friendship.

Thus why this week can either turn out to be the best or the worst.

I’ve decided that at some point during this trip I need to confess my feelings for Bowen. He’s also seemed to notice the shift in my attitude towards him. I have become more closed off and not as touchy as we used to be. Bowen and I are both very touchy/feely types of people. So what seemed like just some harmless cuddling and play wrestling with each other, to me did very little to quell down my feelings.

For example, this morning when we were packing up the cars for the trip a group of us are taking to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse, Bowen went to wrap his arms around my middle from the back and I subconsciously flinched away at his touch. I know he definitely noticed my mood shift from the defiant pout that was resting on his face. After that I did what I do best, and ran away to the other car that was driving up and basically begged Nate to switch seats with me.

Which now leads to my current thoughts. The entire car ride up I have been contemplating on ways I could tell him, but each scenario just ended up with him telling me that he doesn’t feel the same, and our friendship essentially being over. Obviously I was just overthinking just a little, but I’ve never been stuck in a situation like this before-- and now we are going to be stuck in a lake house together for an entire week, so I am going to be forced to face this situation whether I want to or not.

“Yo. Earth to y/n?” Tyson draws, trying to gain my attention. I snap out of my thoughts as soon as I hear my name, and bring my gaze to the rearview mirror to meet Tyson’s questioning look. “We’re here.” He announces.

Susanna, Mikko’s girlfriend, adds on, “You alright? You seemed kind of out of it the entire car ride.”

I shake my head to try and clear my thoughts and notice that we are indeed here at the lake house we will be staying at for the next week. I clear my dried up throat before croaking out a weak, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t like long car rides.”

Both of them nod, content with my answer and exit the car to join Mikko in unloading all of the luggage from the trunk. I take a few more moments to fully get my head together after dealing with all my jumbled thoughts throughout the entire three hour car ride.

Jumping out of the car, the first thing I see is Bowen letting out a yawn and stretching out. As his arms raise over his head, some of his shirt rises up with it and immediately my eyes are drawn to the small portion of skin and v-line that is in front of me. Bowen then notices my presence and makes eye contact with me, giving me one of his adorable little smiles. I advert my gaze as quickly as I can so my obvious ogling isn’t as obvious and go to finally retrieve my luggage.

Yeah this was gonna be a long week.

…

After everyone got pretty much all settled into their rooms, we all ended up coming back together to sit around the firepit to chat and enjoy some drinks. For this trip that Tyson orchestrated there are in total ten people staying in the house. Me, Tyson, obviously since it’s his house; Bowen, Cale, Grace, Alex Newhook, Mikko and his girlfriend Susanna, and lastly Nate and his supposed new girl who will be joining us later on in the week.

Apparently a group of the guys and their partners have been taking trips together at the end of the hockey season for a while now, and since growing closer with the team this year, I graciously got an invite.

Since it was getting later and a little bit more chilly, I grabbed a random sweatshirt that I saw already laying around in the living room before making my way outside to join everyone by the firepit. Getting closer I noticed that the only seat available just so happened to be next to Bowen.

Cale and Grace give each other a not so inconspicuous knowing look when they see me approaching. As soon as I sit down, a question is being thrown at me.

“Whose sweatshirt is that y/n?” Cale brings everyone's attention to me with a growing smirk on his face.

“I don’t know, I just found it in the living room.” I give Cale a questioning glare, trying to figure what his endgame is right now.

“It’s mine.” I hear that same raspy voice that I love and know so well. I feel my face start heating up at the idea of wearing Bowen’s sweatshirt. Am I wearing his name on my back right now, and I just didn’t even think to check earlier?

“Oh, uh. Sorry, I can give it back to you, if you want it.” I stumble out, now feeling awkward and a little embarrassed about how flustered I am getting over a simple sweatshirt.

Bowen gives me a little smile before replying back, “Nah, it’s fine. It looks better on you anyway.”

I clear my throat and stumble out an awkward ‘thanks’ at Bowen and then turn my attention to Grace right next to me so I don’t embarrass myself even more. What I don’t see though is the way Bowen's face immediately falls when I turn my back on him.

…

Around midnight is when everyone started to make their way back inside the house to start getting ready for bed. I was mindlessly scrolling through my social media, so I didn’t notice that mostly everyone had already gone inside.

“Y/n.” I look up at the mention of my name to notice that Bowen and I are the only ones left outside.

Also noticing the intense gaze I am receiving from Bowen, I quickly gather my things and stumble out, “Oh my gosh I didn’t notice everyone left already. I should head inside as well.”

Bowen is quicker though because he grabs ahold of my wrist, halting me in place before I make my very obvious escape.

“Hold on, please. Can you please talk to me?” Bowen pleads out.

“What do you mean? We’ve been talking all night.” I countered, trying one last time to get out of this conversation.

“We’ve been talking as a group all night yeah, but you couldn’t even make eye contact with me. You know what I mean. What’s been going on? Did I do something?” Bowen frowned.

At that moment I felt so guilty. I’ve been so focused on trying to ignore my feelings that I have developed that I ended up pushing my best friend away and hurting him in the process. I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. I knew I would eventually have to have this talk with Bowen during this week, but I just didn’t expect it to be on the very first night.

“Okay. Yeah, let’s talk.”

I lead the way down to the dock overlooking the lake and sit down to dangle my feet into the water. I know for a fact that Grace and Cale realized that we both haven’t come in behind them, so they are most likely snooping by the backdoor wondering what we are doing.

Bowen joins me, after slipping his shoes off and dangling his feet in as well.

“What’s been going on y/n?” Bowen asks again.

“I-I think I’m in love with you.” I blurt out. I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I await any type of response from Bowen. Taking a peek over at him, I see the pure shock on his face. Probably wasn’t the best idea to start off the conversation with that.

Taking his silence as a bad sign, I start spewing out whatever I can to try and calm the anxiety coursing through my veins. “I-I think I have known for a while and I just tried to ignore it, I guess. But then I realized that I was just pushing you away, an-and I never wanted to do that. Our friendship means that absolute world to me, and I would hate myself if anything I did, or-or my stupid feelings jeaporized that.” At some point during my little rant, a few tears escaped. I turn my head away as I try to hold back on a full on sob breaking loose.

“You think?” He eventually breaks the silence.

Confusedly, I turned my head back around and let out a strangled, “Huh?” I see the corners of Bowen’s mouth start curving up into a tiny smile, confusing me even more.

“You said, you think you’re in love with me.” He pointed out.

My eyebrows raise in question and I give him a little shrug, prompting him to elaborate more.

“Well… I’m pretty damn sure I’m in love with you.” Bowen softly declared.

My breath catches in my throat and my mouth turns as dry as the Sahara Desert. Those were definitely not the words I was expecting to come out of his mouth. He chuckles at my surprised face and scooches a little closer to my body to wipe a stray tear on my cheek.

“Are you serious?” I whisper out.

“Of course.” He whispered just as softly back to me as his head inched closer to mine.

My heart pounds in my chest as Bowen’s hand comes up to cradle my cheek. All of our pent up feelings and emotions that we both have been too afraid to admit all come crashing together as our lips finally meet. He kissed me gently, almost carefully, but after all this time gentleness was not what I wanted right now. Bowen let out a low groan as I pulled him flush against my body, my fists bunching up the collar of his shirt.

Before this could go any further, we both pull away breathlessly, basking in what truly just happened-- just now realizing how much our relationship is about to change.

“Fuck.” Bowen breathed out, running his hands over his face. “If I knew that was what it was like to kiss you I would’ve blurted out my feelings the day I met you.”

My ears perk up at his last few words and it seems like he also realizes what he just admitted, as his cheeks immediately turn a rosy color.

“You’ve liked me for that long?” I bashfully question.

Bowen runs his fingers through his hair and blows out a breath of air before answering, “Yeah, I-I mean… yeah I have.” He stumbles out, awkwardly letting out a laugh.

I lean my head on his shoulder and connect our hands, feeling super content and never wanting this moment to end. We take a moment to just sit on the dock-- with our feet hanging in the water, hands intertwined; and bask in the feeling of finally letting our feelings out into the open.

“You know everyone in that house is going to have a field day when they find out.” Bowen mumbles against my shoulder, before leaving a lingering kiss on the exposed skin.

“Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if they all had a bet going or something.” I chimed. I raise my head that had previously been resting on Bowen’s shoulder back up to look at him, and see that he is already smiling at me. “What?” I drawled, feeling my cheeks heating up under his gaze.

“You wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

My cheeks now feel on fire as I ponder on how I want to go about this. I raise my eyebrows up at him in question as I ponder out, “Do you want me in your bed tonight?”

Bowen gives me an almost incredulous look as he voiced, “Of course I want you in my bed.”

I just give him a simple nod and push my body up in a standing position, reaching out my hand to prompt Bowen to join me. “Okay, let’s go.”

Bowen immediately shoots up from his sitting position, clinging onto my hand as we make our way back up the yard to the sliding glass doors of the lake house. Just as I predicted earlier, Cale and Grace were totally snooping. Actually, the entire house was snooping. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen trying to act casual as we walked in, but as soon as they noticed our conjoined hands, all hell broke loose.

“I fucking knew it!”

“Aw you guys look so cute.”

“Bout time.”

“Ha! Nate, you owe me fifty bucks.”

I looked over at Bowen with an unimpressed look, “Told you they probably had a bet going on.” Meanwhile Bowen has an incredulous look coating his face watching his friends freak out over his newfound relationship. Instead of questioning our oddball friends, Bowen just simply shakes his head, letting out a little chuckle.

“Alright I’m heading up, I can’t deal with these idiots right now.” Bowen gives me a quick peck on the lips before announcing his departure for the night. Most of the others also start making their way up to their respective rooms for bed, the guys putting on a show of making kissy noises and making a few chirps as they follow Bowen up the stairs.

Grace joins me by the counter, making a show of wiggling her eyebrows at me. I’m smiling like an idiot as Cale also joins us, chuckling at my lovesick expression.

“You’re welcome.” Cale smirked.

I scrunch my face up in confusion as I question him back, “For what?”

“For introducing you two, duh.” Cale teased. Grace smacks him on the arm with a tut, making a show of rolling her eyes at her boyfriend. “Alright, seriously I am happy for you guys though.” He eventually relents.

My cheeks heat up from the attention but also from the thought of Bowen and I’s new relationship. Grace grabs me by the shoulders and starts pushing me in the direction of the staircase.

“Obviously I’m happy for you too. All I’ve wanted is the best for you and I think Bowen is just that. And with that being said, go get your mans!” She sends me off with a quick smack on my ass. I giggle the whole way up the stairs on the way into Bowen’s [now our] room feeling extremely giddy and content.

When I enter the room, all the lights except for the bathroom are already off, and it looks like Bowen is already settled into bed. So, I quickly do my night time routine and change into my pajamas before making my way over to the bed I will now be sharing for the week.

Bowen is awaiting me with his arms wide open, which I happily cuddle into the second I am under the covers. He buries his head into my neck, leaving featherlight kisses here and there.

“I love you.” Bowen mumbles into my neck. I card my fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head as I mumble back those same words, in complete awe over how fast my life has changed in one night. We both knew that we would eventually be together, it just took a little time and a trip to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse for us to figure it out. This week will definitely be one for the books.

Taglist: @barzysandmarnersbitch @handwrittenheroes @hockeyplayerstories @barzy-xoxo @gnemgn @joelsfarabees

Tagging some mutuals as well so this doesnt flop,,,

@2manytabsopen @bb-nhlqueen7 @frederikanderson @simon-edvinsson @coltonndach @carepriceisgoodathockey @lovereadinghockeyy @pettypeteys @kentjohnsons @joekellys @mattybenierss

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softomi · 4 years

Text

Overdue

prompt: I know I’m running late – I’m sorry. Things haven’t worked out the way I planned. But believe me when I tell you I am on my way.

- A Postcard by Lang Leav

pairing: atsumu x reader (ft. osamu)

general taglist: @graykageyama

Being the older brother, even if by mere minutes, Atsumu always felt that he had to look out for his sibling. After all, his mother instilled into him that no matter what, he should always be there for Osamu and vice versa. On many occasions Atsumu took that to mean that he could take his stuff, as long as he returns it (which he never does), because after all, they’re brothers.

On other occasions, it meant that Atsumu had to learn to be the first to set his pride aside. He reasons its because he’s the older brother, but Osamu knows that Atsumu is just too clingy to stay mad at his brother for a long time.

But there were many times, many days, many fleeting moments where taking care of his younger twin made him think “I wish I didn’t have a brother.”. Yet, the moment something happens to Osamu, he’s quick to act as the third parent.

“Why are you so stupid!” Atsumu screams at his brother’s back, “You shouldn’t have climbed that stupid tree.”

Osamu turns on his heels, gritting his teeth, “Shut up! You did the same thing last week!”

“Yeah! Well!” Atsumu is balling his fist, their mother entering the room due to the commotion, “What if something happened to you? Huh? Mom would blame me for not watching you!” The young Atsumu begins to blubber, “What if something happened?”

Osamu learned at the young age of ten, just how much being the older brother put a toll on Atsumu. So on their eleventh birthday, Osamu decided to give Atsumu a birthday present.

“I’ll be the older brother this year!” The young boy declares, “So it’s my turn!” He points at his confused brother, “To take care of you as the older brother.” For something so seemingly simple, Atsumu was star struck with the idea.

And every year following, they took turns being the big brother.

They even drew up a contract, the big brother responsibilities contract. As the older brother, you must take care of the younger, you will take responsibility for the younger brother’s actions no matter how stupid, and above all else, the older has to sacrifice things for the younger brother. Signed by both Miya Atsumu and Miya Osamu.

When they were thirteen years old, Osamu took care of Atsumu when he caught the flu. When they were sixteen years old, Atsumu used the last of his money to buy pizza for his hungry brother. When the clock struck midnight, signaling their seventeenth birthday, Atsumu asked for the money back. During their twentieth year, Atsumu took a month off school and training to help Osamu set up his business.

“You don’t have to.” Osamu tried to reason with his brother.

Atsumu lifted a box from the back of the rented van, eyes staring up at the glow of the restaurant sign, “It’s what big brothers are for.”

Osamu stops Atsumu by the shoulder, “We’re not kids anymore, who cares about the big brother crap.”

“I do!” Atsumu scowls.

Osamu realized at the later age of twenty, that Atsumu clings to the title of older brother. As he watches his brother carry the box into his new restaurant, Osamu wondered if there would ever be a point where Atsumu would stop being there for him. But he also wondered, if there would ever be a moment where he could finally grant Atsumu release from the title.

At the age of twenty-three, you waltzed into Atsumu’s life.

Atsumu likes to say that it was a meet-cute. You like to say that it was the day he tried to take your head off. You interned for the Black Jackals as a sport psychologist. On your very first day, as you walked the sidelines towards the coach; you heard a mere shout. You ducked out of reflex, just barely missing the ball as it smacked against the ground behind you. Atsumu jogged with an apologetic expression and a compliment that your reflexes were killer.

Throughout your internship, you refused to go out with Atsumu. Even though the first time you bluntly rejected him, Atsumu says that you never truly said that he didn’t have a chance.

“You said.” Atsumu liked to push your buttons sometimes, “I remember.” He’s got a silly grin on him, “The first time I asked you out, you said ‘Sorry, I don’t date athletes I work for.’” Atsumu looks at the time on his phone, he takes your badge off you, “Your internship is officially over. You no longer work for the Black Jackals. One date, it’s all I ask.”

It truly wasn’t the romantic date. He was shamelessly taking you out to eat at his brother’s restaurant. You were no stranger to his twin but when you two sat in the booth, Osamu coming over to personally take your orders; Atsumu wasted little time in announcing, “Order anything you want, the most expensive item even. My big brother is paying.”

“I thought you were the older brother Atsumu?” You vaguely recall Atsumu mentioning Osamu as the younger twin.

Osamu rests a hand onto his brother’s shoulder, his grip causing Atsumu to yelp, “Yeah, we like to do this thing where every year we switch off being the older sibling. I just can’t wait! For our twenty-fourth birthday. I’ve been eyeing a new set a knives that’ll match the new dish machine I’m planning on getting next year.”

“Hey hey, we promised a limit!” Atsumu shouts.

That was the first date of many and loving Atsumu came easily. He kissed your fingers with eagerness, held you like you were the most important person in the world, and gave you all of his undivided attention. Atsumu followed you like a map leading to hidden treasure that was your lips.

You were perhaps everything he could have ever wanted, everything he ever wished for. For the first few months of the relationship, you wondered why previous girlfriends of his would ever let him go. He reasons that they all said he loved many things, but they were just simply not one of them.

Atsumu knew that when he loved something, he was always there. He attends every volleyball practice, he attends the family Sunday dinners, and he attends your college graduation.

But just like Atsumu had mentioned, he loved many things.

“Hey. Where are you?” You were shivering, hands wrapping around your arms.

“Shit.” Atsumu speaks, “I’m so sorry babe, I was helping Samu pack his things. He’s moving apartments and you know how he is, he does things last minute so I’m making sure he’s starting early.”

“Okay.” You breathe out, “But did it have to be today? This was really important to me.”

“It’s just a gathering. Samu really needed my help.” Atsumu clears his throat, “But if you want, I can head over there right now.”

“It’s fine.” You speak, “Just, next time, be here.”

“Of course!”

Osamu looks up at his brother, “Were you supposed to be somewhere else?”

Atsumu grabs some of the empty boxes, “Yeah, y/n was getting together with some of her friends. Something about introducing me to them I think.” Atsumu’s foot hits some of the book he’s stacked on the floor, “Dammit Samu, how many cookbooks do you need? You’re such a hoarder.”

“You should have gone.” Osamu watches him stack the books neatly into a box.

“Then no one would be here to help you.” Atsumu clicks his tongue, “Mom and dad are out of town, the guys are all busy, even your girlfriend isn’t over here helping; good pick there Samu.”

A book smacks Atsumu on the head, “You’re so stupid!” Osamu throws another book at him, “You ruin my life.”

Atsumu grins, sticking a tongue out to his brother, “You ruin my life too.”

If volleyball was his first priority, Osamu would be his first, first, priority and you concluded, you must fall behind both. That night was the first of many, and loving Atsumu became harder.

“Just go!” You threw your hands to your side.

Atsumu was hesitant, a jacket in his hand, “Look, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” He takes a step to you. You turn your head away when he leans in for a kiss, instead, he presses a slow peck onto your cheek, “Samu just really needs me right now.”

“Yep.” You state bitterly.

“I’m sorry. Happy birthday.”

It’s the last thing he says before he runs out the door. Instead of eating the cake with you that night, he spends it taking a drunk Osamu home, patting his brother’s back as he vomits into the toilet bowl. Even though they were twenty-seven, Atsumu took responsibility to make sure his brother was okay.

“I think we should break up.”

Atsumu thought you were joking, “Hahaha, very funny babe. You have my full and undivided attention.”

“I’m serious.” Your expression didn’t falter.

The cheery sound of the restaurant didn’t match the way Atsumu’s world was crumbling. He was still in disbelief, “What?” He tried to put up a smile, “Stop joking.”

The brief tune of happy birthday is played in the background, the workers clapping along as they sing.

“Atsumu, I just feel like I didn’t know what I was getting into when I entered this relationship.” You were trying to keep him calm, you’ve known him for five years, you’ve loved him for five years; just as hard as he loved, it was hard to let go.

You gathered your things. Atsumu slammed a hand onto the table, “Stop!”

The restaurant quietens, a spotlight on you two as you sit back down, “Atsumu.”

His phone rings. You raise a brow, his brother’s contact showing up. Atsumu picks up the phone, “What?” Atsumu frowns, “Now?” He hangs up the phone, “I have to go.”

You rub the back of your neck, “Of course.”

You two walk out of the restaurant together but you leave alone.

“Samu?” Atsumu walks into his brother’s restaurant, “Everything good?”

“We’re getting married!” The two in front of him wave their hands in his face. It was almost taunting, “I proposed this morning.” Osamu can’t help but stare into his lover’s eyes, “I wanted you to know first before we tell mom on Sunday.” When Atsumu doesn’t answer, Osamu checks the way his brother’s fists are balled, lips in a scowl. Osamu knew the telltale signs, like they were ten years old again, Atsumu was about to break, “Tsumu.”

“Couldn’t this have waited!” Atsumu, quick to anger but quicker to tears, “Couldn’t you just have told me on the phone.”

“I thought you’d be excited to be the first one to know.”

Atsumu uses his hands to push away stray tears, “I have to go.”

At twenty-eight, Atsumu feels as though the weight of the world was on his back. The silence of the apartment was like a gunshot wound and you packing your things shot another bullet into him.

“Let’s talk.” He’s refusing to let you leave.

You set the suitcase onto the ground, “Atsumu.”

“Don’t call me that.” He wants to sound strong, because he has to be strong, “You never call me that.” But he can’t sound strong when it feels like he’s losing everything he’s ever wanted.

“Atsumu.”

The more you said his name, the more it hurt, “I can fix it, whatever is wrong, I can make it better. I can be there more, I’ll stop being late, I’ll clean the whole place for the rest of our lives.”

“Let me ask you something.” He’s hopeful at your words, “If we got married, if we had kids; would Osamu still be your priority?” Your words felt like a blow, “Because I’m okay right now, as your girlfriend, I am okay. I understand that he’s your brother and you absolutely love him to death. You run to him when he needs you and he runs to you. But when I look to our future, why do I still see you running to your brother.”

“We don’t need to worry about that.” He takes your hand into his, “We just have to worry about right now.”

“But even right now, it’s always later.” Palm rested onto his cheek, “I’m sorry Atsumu.”

He holds you by the wrist, “Give me one chance. One more time to prove to you. It’s all I ask.”

Maybe it was the way he was so sincere, just like the day you fell in love with him, “Okay.” His shoulders are lifted when you whisper, “Next month on the 20th, I leave for Tokyo. 4pm. Send me off.”

“That’s it?”

You nod, “That’s it.”

He marked it on his calendar, set reminders leading up to the day and for the days in between, he was there. He was at every lunch, always home early, wrapping you in his arms to remind you of the bliss. But the closer the day got, the more anxious you felt. The more you wondered if he would remember that the 20th was a Sunday.

“I’ll meet you out front.” He kissed your lips, “I promise I’ll be here to send you off.”

You kept your arms wrapped around his neck, “Okay. I’ll wait for you.”

Atsumu was on edge the entire day. He checked his phone constantly; it didn’t help that his phone went off every hour to remind him. Nothing, he was thinking nothing would ruin the day.

“What’s up Samu?”

“Hey, so did you want to take the same car to mom and dad’s?”

“What?”

“It’s Sunday.” Osamu spoke, checking the calendar just in case, “Yeah, it’s Sunday. So you wanna take the same car or what.”

Atsumu looked at the time, four hours until you were to leave, “I don’t think I can make it this Sunday Samu.”

“Why not?”

“There’s something important I need to do today.”

“Okay, but you know you’ll have to make it up to mom.” Osamu sighs, “Her precious boy missing will be like the end of the world to her.”

Atsumu laughs, “Yeah yeah yeah. I’ll see you guys next Sunday.”

At two hours left, Atsumu was prepared to arrive earlier. A bouquet of flowers in his passenger seat as he drove down the highway, ready to greet you, ready to keep you in his life. Then his phone rang.

“Samu, seriously, I’m not coming.”

“Atsumu.” This wasn’t the voice of his brother, it was his fiancée, “We won’t be able to make it to the dinner either, are you sure you can’t go?”

“It’s fine babe, it’s not that serious!” Osamu’s voice heard lowly in the background.

“Not that serious? You’re in a hospital bed.”

“I just bumped my head.” Osamu yells.

“You have a concussion!” She shrieks back at him. Her tone lowered when she turns back to the phone, “Atsumu, you still there? Samu said you had something important to do today and it’s totally understandable if you can’t go to the dinner; but maybe you could stop by the hospital; they want to keep him over night, I could go to the dinner and explain to your parents.”

An hour and thirty minutes until you leave.

Osamu’s fiancée ran out the door the moment he stepped in. Atsumu scowled at his brother, “What stupid thing did you do this time.”

Osamu is happily eating a jelly cup, “Climbed a tree.”

“Of course, what if something happened Samu?” Atsumu lightly pushed Osamu’s head, “You’re so stupid.”

“So,” Osamu tosses the empty cup into the trash, “What’s so important today that you are skipping dinner?”

Atsumu looks at the time, “Y/n is leaving for Tokyo, she’s got some work to do there for a few days.”

Osamu notices the way his brother looks pressed for time, “So romantic, you’re gonna send her off.”

“You’re not gonna die are you?” Atsumu’s leg is bouncing.

“No.”

“This is why I said you gotta be careful Samu.” Atsumu’s phone goes off, he stops the alarm.

“Look, if you need to leave then go.”

Atsumu crosses his arms, “I can’t always be there for you!” His voice was starting to get louder, “I can’t always be responsible for taking care of you!”

“Okay!” Osamu’s growled, “You didn’t have to come here!”

“If I didn’t then who else would be here!” Atsumu began to weep, his lips in a scowl, “I’m older. I’m the older brother, through and through, if I wasn’t there for you, who knows what would have happened.”

“You act like you’re ten years older than me!” Osamu barks, “You’re only 4 minutes older! Stop treating me like I’m a burden! You’re the older brother, so what!” Osamu falls back onto the bed.

Atsumu’s phone goes off again. An hour left.

Osamu looks at the anxiousness in his brother, “Just go.” Osamu waves a finger, “Whatever it is that’s going on between you two, it’s more important than me. Just go.”

Atsumu doesn’t waver, “But.”

“You wanna sacrifice for me, get out of here.” Osamu catches the way his brother’s lips twitch to a smile.

“I’ll bring you back food, whatever you want, just text me.”

Atsumu is running out the door. Forty-five minutes left when he enters his car. He curses when he hits a red light. Fingers finding your contact, your voicemail plays in his ear.

“I’m on my way!” He’s shouting, heart beating out of his chest, “Please, believe me, I’m on my way. I’ll be a little late.” He’s heavy breathing, “but I’m coming.”

Fifteen minutes left but he’s still twenty-five minutes away. You listened to his voicemail, waiting patiently on the sofa. You have to start getting ready to go. You wish the elevators would move slowly, maybe get jammed for a second. Even as the taxi pulls up, you linger outside of the car door.

“I’m sorry, could we just wait a few more minutes.” You say to the driver.

Five minutes passed.

“Do you still want to wait?” The driver asks.

A sigh leaves your, “No.” You were already behind schedule, “Let’s go.”

You stare at your phone screen, hoping for a message from him. The sudden jolt of the car makes your head collide with the passenger seat. Your hand rubbing the throbbing part of your head as you hear the driver yell about a lunatic.

“I’m here!” Atsumu ignores the driver, banging on your window, “See, I’m here.” He’s pulling the locked handle of your door, frustrated that it wouldn’t open.

When you unlock it, he swings it wide open. Out of breath, he’s pulling you by the back of your neck; the kiss making your head spin. Before you can even register it, the sunlight bounces off his fingers; a gold band sitting between his index finger and thumb.

“And I will always be here.”

“Oh my god.” Your jaw is dropping, “What are you doing.” He’s getting on his knee, your breath caught in your throat, “Don’t.”

“Will you marry me?”

Your palms are pressed together, your fingers pressed to your lips. There’s a long pause and you take his hands into yours, “No.” The way his smile falters makes your heart clench, “Not like this.”

“What do you mean? This is what you wanted right?” He holds the ring out to you.

You run a hand through your hair, “I only wanted you here and you did that. You’re here.” You take the ring, settling it against his palm, “That’s all I ever wanted, that’s all I asked.” You pull him by the cheeks, squishing his face with a smile on yours, “You proved to me that you can be here; I mean you’re late but we can work on that.” You peck his lips quickly, “We can talk about marriage another time, but I wasn’t asking you to propose to me. It’s a really cute but very extreme gesture.”

His eyes are brimming with tears, “I thought I’d lose you forever.” Atsumu was truly soft hearted.

Your phone goes off, the alarm breaking the air between you two, “Shoot.” Your hands fall from his cheeks, “I’m late. I don’t think I’ll make it to the train.”

“I’ll drive you.” Atsumu perks up, “Right here, right now.”

“You’re kidding.” You laugh but the thin smile on his face says otherwise, “You’re literally so busy. You have volleyball practice tomorrow, it’s Sunday you’re parents are expecting you for dinner, and what if something happens to Osamu while you’re gone.”

“Practice doesn’t start until nine in the morning, I can make it back if I don’t sleep; my parents aren’t expecting me today, and Samu is in the hospital with a concussion plus he has his future wife. He doesn’t need me anymore.” Atsumu rests a smirk on his lips, “Give me something harder.”

“Wait, Osamu is in the hospital?”

Atsumu blinks, “Yeah, that’s why I was late. Oh yeah, I borrowed this from Samu too.” The ring twirls on his finger.

“You were going to propose to me with your brother’s ring.”

“Hey!” Your gaze shoots behind your shoulder, the cab driver pressing his horn, “Am I taking you or not?”

Atsumu is apologizing to the driver, grabbing your bags from the back of the car, he still pays a hefty tip to the driver for the inconvenience. As the driver leaves, Atsumu lifts your bags with one hand, the other extending out to you.

“Shall we go on a road trip.”

You take his hand, lacing your fingers with his, “But first, we should stop by the hospital; you need to return the ring.”

“You’re right.” He nods, “It’s too ugly for you. You need something big, something grand. I’m thinking diamonds.”

You cackle while settling yourself into the passenger seat. Two hours into the drive, Atsumu peeks at your sleeping figure. His thumb rubbing against the back of your hand. He presses a kiss your fingers. He knew all too well that diamonds would never suit your taste. You were about simplicity, less was more, actions louder than words. How he was going to propose, what ever ring he was going to choose, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was you; that you were with him and that with one phone call, he’d be running to you.

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #haikyuu #atsumu scenarios #haikyuu scenarios

453 notes · View notes

tinyjeanmarco · 4 years

Note

omg friends to lovers modern au with porco ?? soft porco just gets me in my Feels™

two idiots

note: woof woof. you know just the kind of softness i love 😩🤚 coming right up, darling! this turned out to be one of my favorite things i’ve written. i hope you all enjoy!! here’s some modern friends to lovers with porco x gn!reader!

wc: 2,154

modern!porco x gn!reader

warnings: language, porco being a dork.

porco had been your best friend ever since he adopted you in his social circle in high school. your “friends” at the time were pretty shitty and he convinced you to drop them and join his friend group instead. best decision ever because now you had actual friends who lasted beyond school as well as not feeling like shit 24/7 anymore.

you’ve been friends for what felt like forever, and you even got a job at the same little café. currently, you two had the closing shift. that just spells chaos with porco’s silly antics he always pulls. it was a surprise he hasn’t gotten you two fired yet.

so now, with the “open” sign flipped to “closed,” porco takes it upon himself to fuck around and give himself a whipped cream mustache. which is very irresponsible because you could get in so much trouble if the higher ups find out.

you did nothing to stop him, just laughing to the point you were afraid your lungs would give out from the force of your laughter.

“porco, you’ve got to stop doing that, that’s so unsanitary. plus we have twenty minutes to finish and lock up.” you giggled, making your way over to the sink where all the dishes were waiting to be cleaned.

“can’t be fired if we’re not caught,” he sent a playful wink to you “and it’s fun to make you laugh all the time.” you just rolled your eyes at him.

“you’re absolutely no help, you bafoon. go mop the floors or something.”

“fine, mom. whatever you say.” he groaned and licked the whipped cream off his face. however, on his way to grab the mop, he made sure to splash you with the water running from the faucet.

“you dick! you’ll pay for this!” you shout as you cup your hands under the water, gathering as much as you could, before flinging it in his direction.

“see? there you go. now you’re having fun!” he cackled.

“you’re cleaning that up, dipshit.” he nodded frantically, giving you a salute.

“of course, mom. planned on it.” you couldn’t hold back your laugh after seeing the serious look on his face. you smacked him on the arm.

“stop calling me mom, it’s weird.” with a roll of your eyes, you got back to cleaning the dishes, set on getting out of work on time. you knew messing around wouldn’t exactly get you guys in trouble, but if you didn’t clock out and close up in time, you would be reprimanded.

“i would never stop saying something that makes you so annoyed, so no, mom.” he had the biggest shit eating grin on his face as he went about cleaning the floors. you decided to refrain from giving him the satisfaction of your response, instead focusing on your work.

of course, the peaceful silence would only last so long as porco decided to fill it with his idiotic chatter.

“hey, (y/n), do you remember senior year when zeke made you laugh so hard that you pissed yourself? that’s what this is reminding me of.” his boisterous laugh bounced around all the walls of the small building as your face flushed.

“you said you would never bring that up again! we agreed on that. how would you like if i brought up you pissing the bed when you were a sophomore in high school? you were like fifteen or sixteen and you still peed the bed.” now it was your turn to laugh at him.

“uncool! that was a one time thing! and i chugged a whole bottle of water before bed, okay? not my fault.” now it was his turn to go completely red in the face, the tips of his ears also tinted red. you mocked him, repeating his last sentence under your breath in a dumb voice.

he scoffed at you and then everything was silent again, minus the running water and clanking of dishes. your thoughts kind of took over as you mindlessly worked. you two had been friends for what feels like half of your life, and for a majority of that time, you had a crush on him as well. you still do.

whenever you guys had free time, you would spend it together, as best friends do. there was no doubt that you would catch feelings eventually. sometimes you wish you could do something about it, but you’re content just being his best friend instead of ruining what you have to take a chance on a relationship that probably wouldn’t happen.

porco just had this dorky, boyish charm to him that drew you in immediately. it seemed to attract all kinds of others, too, because he had numerous partners growing up. his relationships never lasted too long though, earning him the title of “heartbreaker.” another reason you didn’t wanna try your luck. you didn’t know if he would break up with you after a month of being together.

being totally absorbed by your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed porco trying to get your attention.

“hellooo? earth to (y/n)?” he waved a hand in front of your face. you startled and ended up splashing water on both of you.

“huh? sorry, i spaced out.” you said sheepishly, turning off the running water. you had finished your task and noticed porco had as well.

“i’ve finished mopping and wiping tables down and shit. you wanna clock out if that’s all?”

“oh, uh, yeah. i think we’ve already gotten to everything. i already sorted out everything in the back so we should be okay. lemme finish up here.” you made sure the sink was cleaned up and porco got to putting the rest of the cleaning supplies away, and worked on shutting the lights off. you snagged your bag from the back and met up with him by the door.

“you need a ride home?” he inquired as you locked the doors and headed out. that got you to stop, remembering that the last bus was around an hour ago, so that left you with walking home as your only option. luckily for you though, porco was always paying attention to your habits, knowing that you wouldn’t have a way home.

“yeah, actually, that would be great. i’m too tired to walk home tonight.” you smiled at him appreciatively, earning a smile back. climbing into his car, you stole the aux cord immediately. you always got control of the tunes when he was driving you somewhere.

you both got to making idle prattle as you scrolled through your playlists to find something to play. you settled on one of your favorite songs, humming along here and there as he drove.

as you neared your apartment, he turned down the music to a low volume and spoke up.

“so, i’ve wanted to talk to you about something for a while and i feel like now is a good a time as any.” you gave an agreeing ‘hm,’ prompting him to continue.

“i uh, think you’re really cool and all, and i’ve kind of sort of had a crush on you since high school which i know is like a long time or whatever, but i got tired of just keeping it to myself for so long and i just wanted to tell you.” you were shocked to say the least. your heart rate picked up, filled with hope and anticipation.

he pulled into your apartment complex and put the car in park before turning to you and continuing to speak.

“i don’t expect it to go anywhere, you don’t even have to feel the same but, i just wanted to kinda lay out my feelings, maybe see if you feel the same?” he phrased it as more of a question. when he began speaking, he was pretty confident, but that slowly wore down the more he said until it was just his nerves left. insecurities rubbing together and creating a spark.

“of course, you don’t have to feel the same. that would be silly to expect that from you. we’re best friends and we always have been. actually, the more i think, that was really stupid to say because you like see me as a brother and stuff and like incest is gross so honestly you ca-” you had to cut him off, as cute as his rambling was, you didn’t want him to start overthinking. a sad porco is a not fun porco.

“shut up and kiss me, dumbass.” you shot out before your nerves got to you.

“-n ignore- what?” he looked at you incredulously, not expecting you to say anything like that. hey, same porco.

“i said kiss me, or i’ll kiss you first, then how would you feel? you’re the one confessing to me.” and the confidence you have just keeps building up. you honestly had no idea what was getting into you anymore, but knowing that your long time crush has liked you back for around the same amount of time you liked him? score.

“oh, yeah i��ll kiss you.” and with that, he leaned over the console and crashed your lips together. your heart was dancing in your chest, crashing into your ribs. you almost worried that he could hear it, but you got lost in the kiss, forgetting and not bothering to care.

his hands came up to cradle your jaw, pulling your face impossibly closer to him as he kissed you even deeper than before. you pulled away, deciding to give him more of a response than telling him to just kiss you.

“i’ve liked you just as long, pock. i never thought you would ever feel the same, i mean, you always dated so many people and stuff so i just assumed that you weren’t interested in me.” you confessed, flushing slightly.

“yeah, but, you know how long each of those lasted. it was because of you. they took up time i wanted to spend with you and i only really wanted you. i was just trying to get over my feelings. i never knew i could have this with you.” he began stroking your cheek with one of his thumbs, the other hand searching for yours to interlock your fingers together.

“i guess this car just has two idiots looking into each other’s eyes then, huh?” you laughed, leaning into his hand on your face. “i never thought i could have this with you, either.”

“yeah, i guess we are kind of dumb, then.” he went in for another kiss, giving it his all before pulling away again. “can i take you out? we work the same shifts usually so we’ll have a day off together soon.”

“yeah, i think i’d like that a lot.” you couldn’t help yourself, you had to kiss him again. now that you could do that, you don’t think you’ll stop anytime soon. you just felt so right when you kissed him, the entire world fell away leaving the two of you melded together, just sharing how much you felt for the other.

pulling away from the kiss, porco pulled you into a crushing hug. he didn’t want to let you go, but realized he probably should. you’d been sitting in his car for a few minutes and he knew you needed your rest. it had been a long day.

“okay, now get out of my car please.” he smiled at you lovingly.

“so sweet, so romantic, my little pock.” he groaned but let out a snort soon after.

“ugh, you ruined the moment.” he rolled his eyes and you stared at him, bewildered.

“me? you’re the one kicking me out of your car.” he laughed at this.

“only because i know you’ll complain if you don’t get enough sleep. i’ll see you at work tomorrow though, babe, don’t worry,” he paused for a second, “i can call you that, right?”

“yeah, and you better keep calling me that or i’ll tell everyone at work about your whipped cream escapades.” he gasped, mocking offense.

“you wouldn’t dare.” his eyes narrowed at you. you let out a loud laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“oh, i would. try me.” he rolled his eyes and gave you a kiss on your nose.

“yeah, yeah, i believe you. but you really should get going. i promise i’ll keep calling you babe, and that i’ll see you tomorrow. babe.” you smiled and reached out to give his hand a squeeze.

“yeah, i’ll see you tomorrow. bye, pock.” and with that you made your way out of his car, giving him a wave and blowing him a kiss before you turned to head inside. he pretended to grab your kiss and pressed it to his lips before waving back.

you giggled to yourself giddily as you walked into the building, not believing the events that unfolded today, or happy they made you. yeah, today was a good day.

#porco x reader #porco galliard x reader #porco #porco galliard #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #aot x reader #snk #aot #attack on titan x reader

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merryfortune · 3 years

Text

Sunlight wasn’t streaming in

Written for 100ships on Dreamwidth

Prompt - #12 Sunlight

Ship: Hitch/Sunny

Fandom: My Little Pony: A New Generation

Word Count: 1,470

Rating: G

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Pre-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Grief, Pre-Relationship

Even now, Hitch felt anxious to enter the Starscout resident. Phyllis’s warning still rang clear in his head even now but it was important to him that he visited. He hadn’t seen Sunny in a while, not since… not since her dad had passed away. No one had seen her, actually, and Hitch figured it was his duty as a strong arm of the law, peace, and justice that he perform a welfare check on her but he still felt a tremor of unease.

There was something drastically different about the lighthouse today. Sunlight wasn’t streaming in through the windows, all the curtains had been drawn shut. It was solemn. Silent. Unnerving. Even so, Hitch pulled through and nudged open the door. It was open. As safe as Maretime Bay was, all the other ponies in town locked their doors lest a Pegasus or a Unicorn come a-knocking but of course, silly and idealistic Sunny wasn’t like that. Not even when she was grieving so deeply, she wanted to be left uncharacteristically in the dark.

Hitch swallowed a lump in his throat as he crept in through the door and he glanced to the side of it, the framed photo on the wall of Sunny and Argyle was askew. Hitch fixed it. It wasn’t right just to leave it crooked. After that, he swung his head out and then he called for Sunny.

At first there was no response but then he heard it. A muffled go away but that only propelled Hitch further into the lighthouse. Onwards and upwards, he figured. He couldn’t just leave Sunny like this. So, he made his way up to her room, using all the contraptions that had impressed him as a young colt but now, just seemed dangerous now. He was certain this madhouse was breaking many by-laws but it didn’t seem appropriate right now to count them all.

“May I come in, Sunny?” Hitch asked the door to Sunny’s room.

“Since you're here… you may as well.” Sunny mumbled back.

With her permission, Hitch came inside and closed the door behind him. Even up here, where the light house should get the most light of all since it was Sunny’s inner sanctum, it was very dark. Dim. Grey. It unsettled Hitch as he drew in closer to his childhood friend who languished in her bed, under the covers.

“Are you okay?” Hitch asked.

Sunny dragged herself out from under the covers and glared, “No,” she snapped, uncharacteristically, tears in her eyes, loathing herself for being angry but loathing Hitch for asking, “my dad just died. Of course I’m not okay.”

“It’s fine.” Hitch mumbled. “Be angry, be sad… I just want to make sure you're getting it out, not bottling it up.”

“Thanks, Hitch.” Sunny murmured as she lowered her head back into her bed.

She swallowed a sob but Hitch reached out to her, placing his hoof next to one of hers and she nodded. She knew she didn’t have to be strong or stoic around Hitch, trying to be the sunniest possible version of Sunny even in her grief and so, that repressed sob became a bawl. Hitch nudged his hoof against Sunny’s, consoling her wordlessly during her sobbing and hysteria. She was loud and wet and he could only make a most bittersweet expression but for it, Sunny did feel lighter of her burden of mourning.

She lifted her head up off her pillow and took a breath, “Thanks Hitch, I needed that.”

“I can tell.” Hitch replied. “If you need anything else, I’m your guy.”

Sunny smiled.

“In fact,” Hitch added, thinking he was being equal parts helpful and sly, “when was the last time you ate? I can go fetch you something if you want.”

Sunny wanted to protest, that she was fine and that Hitch didn’t have to go to any extravagant length for her but her belly betrayed her by giving a huge growl, as though on cue. Hitch snickered and Sunny fumed, embarrassed but after her huge cry, it did feel good as well to hazard out a little bit of laughter at her own expense.

“I only want something small… I really don’t feel up to eating anything huge.” Sunny murmured.

“Got it, how about I bring you up a smoothie, then?” Hitch asked. “It's your favourite, after all.”

“That would be lovely, Hitch.” Sunny replied with a gracious smile.

Hitch winked at her and told her he would only be a moment. He trotted off down the contraptions again and into her kitchen. The idea of it being just Sunny’s kitchen weighed Hitch down as he fossicked through her refrigerator and her counters. It had been a long time since he had been in her kitchen, watching her father bake cupcakes for his little filly. Hitch’s mouth turned sour as he realised that he never accepted one from what was going to be the last batch that Argyle would ever bake. That filled him with regret.

Eventually, he got the blender working and topped it full of whatever he could find. He wanted it to be healthy for Sunny but he also wanted it to be a comfort so he ended up tossing all sorts of fruit and vegetables in there, ice-cream and honey too and the resulting concoction was pungently sweet. He knew - hope - that Sunny would love it as he put a replacement lid with a sippy on the glass blender and brought it up to Sunny’s room again in its entirety.

“Er, drink it at your leisure, obviously. But don’t let it get too warm or it’ll taste bad.” Hitch said.

Sunny giggled as she accepted the entire smoothie. She could smell how strongly sweet it was going to be through the lid but it just made her giddy rather than anything else. She took a smiley sip of it, even if her cheeks were half-dried with tears, and enjoyed it. It was made with love and that’s all she could ask for, even if the flavours didn’t exactly harmonise, she couldn’t begrudge Hitch for trying his best for her.

“It's delicious.” Sunny replied.

“Not as good as the ones that you make, I'm sure.” Hitch sheepishly replied, toeing the wooden floorboards under-hoof in earnestness.

“I appreciate it.” Sunny continued, her voice soft.

“You’d do the same for me, or anyone, really…” Hitch murmured and he realised there was only a very small pool of Ponies - only him - would ask for Sunny to do the same or do the same for Sunny. He cleared his throat. “So, um, if you need anything at all. It can be small or silly or big and huge… You know who to call.”

“I do.” Sunny replied, having another sip of her smoothie. “You're the best a mare could ask for, Hitch.”

“Aw, shucks…” Hitch mumbled, his eyes going wide but he was enjoying the praise. “Your, um, really important to me, Sunny, I mean it.”

“Thank you, Hitch.” Sunny said.

She leaned out over her bed for a nuzzle and Hitch awkwardly reciprocated. They rubbed their cheeks and muzzle on each other and Hitch held his breath for it. Sunny was all too soft and sweet for him, so Hitch pulled back first. Sunny sighed but she didn’t seem disappointed by the succinctness of the affection.

“I’ll, um, give you some space.” Hitch said. “And remember to have something solid for dinner tonight, a smoothie is most certainly not dinner.”

“I appreciate it, Hitch, and I’ll let you know if I need anything, I promise.” Sunny said.

“Good,” Hitch said with a smile full of bravado, “because I want to see you rabble rousing on your roller skates again as soon as possible.”

“On it,” Sunny said and she shrugged, “and Hitch?”

“Oh? Yes?” he said, surprised to be prompted so soon.

“Could you do me one little favour before you go?” Sunny said and she seemed rather embarrassed by the indulgence that she was about to ask for. “But, um, could you open the curtains for me? I think I need the sunlight.”

“I think you do, too.” Hitch agreed.

He trotted over to the curtains on the far side of Sunny’s room, he bit down on the rod and with a heft, he let so much sunlight into Sunny’s room and she basked in the warmth. She smiled, relieved and loved, and made Hitch feel like he had done really good today. The lighthouse was really only the lighthouse, Hitch thought, if it was all lit up, one way or another.

Thus, with his welfare check performed, Hitch pardoned himself and Sunny promised she would be out and about in the town again soon, she knew her father would want her to be busy and happy. Hitch, too, of course.

#100ships challenge #starblazer #sunny x hitch #hitch x sunny #sunny starscout #hitch trailblazer #my little pony a new generation #mlp #writing tag #ok i've gotten my mlp fics out of my system

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chuckbass-love · 4 years

Note

hi! i wanted to request a smutty fic w prompt 100 with ransom and reader. maybe they were at a party and someone was hitting on reader and touching her and ransom got mad. 🤗

Hi love! Again, to everyone (including you) that has sent in a request, i’m sorry it’s taken so long. I feel bad for making people wait but i never wanna upload work that’s anything short of great in my eyes. I always want to be at my best. This didn’t quite go the way i wanted it to but i really hope it’s still good. Everyone reading, please feel free to leave feedback. It helps and is very appropriated.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Prompt #100: “Call me selfish, but i don’t ever want anyone else touch you”

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, swearing, smut, sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, slight ownership kink (if you squint) and daddy kink. 18+

Word Count: 3,563

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @kylosrehn go check them out💜

Over My Dead Body

When making plans for the weekend with Ransom, going to a party full of stuck up rich people wasn’t exactly on your agenda. But, seeing it’s part of his lifestyle, you made an exception and besides it was yet another party hosted by his grandfather Harlan.

You never used to attend these parties since Ransom never invited you. He preferred to keep your interactions strictly bedroom related, nothing more, nothing less. It was beginning to confuse the hell out of you because sometimes on a rare occasion, he’d let you meet his friends and family.

But as previously stated, it’s rare.

When the two of you first met, sparks flew instantly. Your friend had introduced you, she was on a date with her boyfriend, her boyfriend brought him along just like she brought you along.

Their way of setting you two up. And it worked.

A solid 2 hours after meeting the man, he was balls deep inside of you making you forget your own name and turning you into a moaning mess underneath him. Since then you’ve been hooked. Whenever either of you are horny, you fuck.

But like any other fuck buddy relationships, there’s a catch. You two have a clear love for each other, one that neither of you will ever be brave enough to admit. Mostly because Ransom is a huge commitment phobe. The thought of only being with one girl for the rest of his life scares him and you just don’t admit your feelings because the thought of being rejected weighs heavier than the optimism of it working out in your favour.

Although he’s scared of settling down, Ransom sure did seem keen to bring you along with him to this party tonight which now you come to think of it, he’s been like that the last few times he’s taken you out.

Maybe he’s changing his mind.

“Red wine?” you hear, turning your head to see the man himself holding a wine glass for you and a tumbler glass for himself, no doubt filled with whiskey on the rocks. He does love his whiskey after all.

“Thank you, so tell me again. Why am i here?” you ask before taking a rather large sip of your wine, you certainly need liquid courage if you’re going to talk to these people.

“Who else would i have brought?” he responds, voice monotone, almost as if he’s bored and very uninterested. So all this time you thought there was a possibility of him changing his mind when in reality, he’s just been bringing you along to all of these lavish parties to keep up appearances.

No doubt to keep that controlling mother off of his back.

You shrug, continuing to look around as Ransom greets some of his grandfathers guests. One of them looks at you before looking at Ransom who eventually introduces you two, attempting to strike up some small talk until he’s being dragged away to talk to a group of men who no doubt are a lot older than him. Leaving you stood all alone.

That’s when you spot a guy across the room. He looks around Ransoms age. Tall, expensive suit, blonde hair and blue eyes. Plus he seems friendly. He raises his hand to wave and you reluctantly strut over, greeting him with a shy smile which he reciprocates.

“So, what’s a beautiful woman like yourself doing stood all alone?” his compliment has you flustered and unsure how to respond but still, you find the words “thank you and i’m not alone, i came here with Ra-”

“Ransom Drysdale, yeah i saw you with him, where did he disappear to?”

“I have no idea, off talking to random strangers” you chuckle nervously, feeling slightly embarrassed about his absence. Little do you know, Ransom can see you with this mystery man, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw at the sight of you laughing.

Surely he can’t be that funny, he thinks to himself. But he is. He’s hilarious.

“So what do you think drew her to him then?” you giggle, gesturing to the couple next to you, a woman who’s dressed up to the nines with her husband who looks a lot older than her “oh obviously his looks, what makes you question her intentions?” he smirks and you shove him playfully.

“Oh of course. What was i thinking? Silly me” you wink, downing the rest of your drink in seconds before he takes another flute of champagne off of the waitresses tray for you.

“If i didn’t know any better i’d say you’re trying to get me drunk sir” you say using your best posh voice. Unbeknownst to you though, Ransom can hear your whole conversation, every single thing you’re saying to this man.

But can he really be mad? You’re only talking to, right? Besides he’s not exactly your boyfriend so you’re free to talk to whoever you want. Not that you want anyone else.

What he won’t admit now though is how jealous he is right now, he’s had just about enough of another man making you laugh the way that he’s supposed to make you laugh and now the only way this man is taking you home is over his dead body. But for now, he’s gonna make use of his best poker face, side eyeing the two of you on the sly as anger starts to build.

You start to look around the room yourself, trying to find Ransom and as you do, you spot him heading over to the drinks table so you decide to take that as your opportunity to excuse yourself, joining your date.

“Hey you” you bump him, a cheesy grin plastered across your face, one that fades as quickly as it appeared thanks to Ransoms straight and unimpressed expression.

You stand in front of him, blocking his access to the drinks “is everything okay?” but instead of an answer, you get silence. No response whatsoever. Why is he ignoring you?

“Ransom?”

“What?” he mutters, evidently agitated “what’s wrong?”

He chuckles in response, shoving past you to get his drink and lifting the tumbler to his plump pink lips, practically gulping it down without even so much as a flinch “oh don’t worry, everything is fine. Hey why don’t you go back to your little conversation with Mr Perfect will you” and just like that, he’s storming away from you and up the stairs to the second floor, instantly regretting sending you back to that man.

What could have gotten him so wound up?

If seeing you with that guy is the problem then maybe he shouldn’t have left you.

And without a second more to overthink and fester over his random outburst, you return to the other gentleman. One who knows how to treat you with respect as opposed to shutting you out.

“Hello again” he beams “i was about to say your name but then i remembered we never exchanged those”

“I’m Y/N”

“Jack”

“Nice to meet you Jack”

“Likewise”

The two of you shake hands as another conversation sparks up, pushing all Ransom related thoughts to the back of your already full brain.

Whilst Ransom is sat in the bathroom. Flustered, angry and ready to blow his lid at something so small. A situation that means nothing. That man means nothing to you, surely. You’re just being friendly, after all he did leave you to go and socialise. What did he expect you to do? Stand in the corner away from everyone?

You don’t want this guy though. Jack is just a friend you’ve made here. You want Ransom and he wants you too but his pride is in the way.

God what is wrong with him?

Evidently a lot.

One minute he’s all over you, taking you to parties and the next he’s giving you the silent treatment and acting like you’ve done something wrong.

And the only reason for his odd behaviour is because of the plan he made for tonight. Anyone who knows Ransom knows very well about his thoughts on relationships but with you, things are different and they always have been. You force him out of his comfort zone, you challenge him and you make him better. He was so nervous for tonight that the second the two of you arrived at the party he was drinking and acting strange.

As much as the thought of settling down scares him, he knows that it’s much better to tell you than watch you leave and find someone new. Seeing you with that guy only confirmed that.

After spending who knows how long in the bathroom trying to talk himself out of kicking up a fuss, he heads back down to the party, maybe he should go and spend more time with you but as he walks down the stairs, he instantly spots you and that same guy again. His hand is on your arm and you’re way too close for his liking. Close enough to make his skin crawl and his jaw clench even tighter.

He storms over, hearing his voice as he does so.

“So i know you came here with Ransom but i was wondering if i could maybe get your number?” he asks, scratching the back of his head as he anxiously awaits your reply.

Jacks nerves are abundantly clear until Ransom cuts you off, stopping you from opening your mouth to respond. He tugs on your arm, pulling you back “the answers no, prick” he snaps, dragging you through the crowd and out into the cold night air, barely giving you a chance to say goodbye to anyone and causing goosebumps to form all over your bare arms and legs.

“Ransom what the fuck?” you yell, trying your best to yank your arm from his tight grip “just get in the fucking car” he demands, opening the door for you. How chivalrous of him. His raised voice made you jump a little, cowering slightly and leaving you with no choice but to do as you’re told.

The second he gets in too, he’s shoving the key in the ignition and speeding off away from the party. Jack and all of the crowd long forgotten not just out of sight but out of mind too. Now all you can think about is Ransom and what’s got him so angry all of a sudden as he was pretty happy on the journey here.

You daren’t speak though, god forbid. Your words will only wind him up further.

Knuckles start to turn white as he grips the steering wheel like never before, his fingers tapping frantically which is an obvious indication of his need to get home as soon as physically possible.

You honestly can’t remember if you’ve ever seen him this angry in the whole time you’ve known him and that’s quite literally the scariest thing about this.

Eventually you reach his house, or should you say bachelor pad and he barely waits a second for you to exit the car before he’s storming off into the house without you.

Once you get inside he’s nowhere to be seen until you hear a loud slam of a door coming from upstairs. You head up and into the master bedroom instantly to find him undressing and discarding his clothes across the room.

“Ransom” you approach him with caution, worry filling your soft and caring voice but the moment you’re a few inches away and about to touch him, he shoots around, scaring you.

“Would you have given him your number?” he questions, his blue eyes looking deep into yours almost like he’s looking into your soul.

“Who? Jack? No, of course not. Why’re you even asking me that?” you protest, hoping he’ll believe you but now you come to think of it, you probably looked way too close for comfort.

“Lies”

“Why are you being like this?”

“Because it sure seemed like the two of you were getting awfully cosy tonight, laughing, drinking, touching each other” he explains, closing the space between you and making you gulp.

“Well maybe if you hadn’t of treated me like i was invisible all night then i wouldn’t have needed to make friends with him. You forget that you barely said a word the whole time” now you’re the one that’s angry as you step back after your outburst, watching him carefully. His next actions shock you though as he just laughs, turning away and speed walking across the bedroom to the en suite. But before you can even follow him, he slams the door, making you flinch and then as you thought he would, he locked it.

Why can’t he ever be mature enough to talk about things. All he ever does is avoid confrontation. You don’t really like it either but at least you’re trying to sort whatever issue has him all in his feelings and angry.

Rather than sitting and waiting for him to leave the bathroom, you decide to go and get ready for bed in the other one, showering before getting dressed into whatever you can find. Which just so happen to be a shirt of his.

He dries off, wrapping a towel around his waist before unlocking the door and walking out to find you sat on the bed.

“The answer is no and that’s the truth”

“Oh yeah? Then why was his hands all over you like you were there with him tonight?”

“That was nothing, we were just laughing. What about you though huh? Snapping at me all night, leaving me and then deciding at the very last second that you want to spend time with me. Felt a lot like just another one of your games” it doesn’t look like he believes you and now you’re over trying to prove yourself.

“I left to talk to people and i was acting funny because going to those parties never end well, i wasn’t playing games with you” he stalks towards you, closing the gap.

Okay, now that makes sense. It explains all about how his behaviour changed when the two of you entered the actual party.

“You know, seeing you with that guy wasn’t easy. I got angry. All this time i thought you knew that you belonged to me, clearly i was wrong” his fingers graze your arm before settling underneath your chin and tilting it up, forcing you to look directly into his eyes.

“Maybe you need a reminder” he’s so close to you now, his hands are all over your waist, moving down agonisingly slow towards your ass. He smacks the backs of both thighs as a signal for you to jump and you do. How can you resist?

His lips attack yours in a brief and passionate kiss before he throws you down to the bed “i’m gonna make you forget all about him” he then removes the towel.

You furrow your brows watching as he lifts your (his) shirt up, revealing your laced panties. His favourite on you. He spreads your legs with his hands as he tugs you to the edge of the bed, kneeling down to press a firm kiss to the inside of both your thighs.

That’s when he does what he always does, turns you into a moaning mess by devouring your pussy like a man starved. Sucking, slurping and flicking his tongue all over your sex effortlessly like your body was made for him. Just how you felt the first time he ever touched and tasted you.

“Mhmm, just like that” you run your fingers through his styled locks, messing them up without a care. “I’m the only one for you" he mumbles and it vibrates onto your clit making you giggle.

“You’ve always been the only one” you whisper and he looks up at you with lustful eyes but also a look of love. One you’ve not seen before or maybe you’ve never noticed.

The way he looks at you isn’t new but all this time you’ve assumed it’s because of his attraction to you, that he’s only looking at you that way because of his uncontrollable lust.

“Only i am allowed to touch you like this, taste you” his lips wrap around your clit, sucking like his life depends on it as his thick digits tease your dripping entrance “s’wet sweetness”

You tug a little harder as you lift your bum off of the bed, grinding yourself on his face with a burning desire for that sweet release, the one only he has been able to give you “that’s it sweetness, cum all over my face, cum for daddy” his low and raspy voice spurring you on and talking dirty sends you over that edge as you cum with a loud moan. Quicker than usual.

You try to push him off as you scrunch your eyes closed, seeing stars. All you can focus on is how sensitive you are but he’s cleaning you up with his tongue, clearly can’t get enough of how you taste.

“Always so sweet” he gets back up, moving you further up the bed and parting your legs as he hovers above you with his fingers making quick work to slip your panties to the side. The tip of his cock rests at your entrance as he dips his head to capture your lips with his tongue pushing past them and into your mouth to battle with your tongue.

You can taste yourself on him and that alone arouses you leading you to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his torso “i need you, now” you plead, urging him to give you what you want, which he does. He pushes in slowly at first, seating himself deep inside before really moving.

His pace gets going, rocking his hips back and forth, making sure to fill you up all the way as you claw at his back, your mouth hanging open in the perfect O shape “fuck, daddy it feels so good” you groan moving with him in his thrusts.

“Feel good baby?” he pants, resting his head in the crook of your neck, placing open mouthed kisses to your weak spot “tell daddy how good it feels sweetness. Use your words” he growls and you lift his head up so you can kiss him, cupping his face with one hand “it feels incredible, please don’t stop”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Wanna feel that pussy cream all over my cock. Give it to me sweetness” he licks his index and middle fingers before pressing them down on your clit hard, rubbing aggressively as his pace turns animalistic.

He’s ramming into you with such vigor, his breath fanning your shoulder and the noises he’s making are a far cry from just moaning. No he’s not moaning, he’s upset too or at least bothered by something.

“Can feel you squeezing me sweetness, you close?” he kisses your shoulder but this time he’s more gentle, almost as if he’s afraid of breaking you.

“Yes, oh my god i’m gonna cum. Please, keep going”

The two of you move more frantically. Desperately chasing a joint release.

Grunts, growls and the sound of skin slapping together fills the room, the sound bouncing off of the walls as you both near closer. That’s when you turn the tables around, kissing his neck this time, biting too.

“I’m gonna cum daddy”

“God i love you so much, cum with me”

3.2.1

And you’re legs are shaking in the air, his cock starts to twitch before he coats your walls with his hot seed.

“I love you too”

As he looks back into your eyes, you see it, the tears brimming and threatening to spill but he quickly kisses you, knowing full well that it’ll distract you but not this time. You pull back to look again but he only moves.

“You know i don’t think i was ever angry at you” he starts, standing up to retrieve the towel “it was him. Seeing him flirting with you only made me realise what i wanted” you get off of the bed now, approaching him “call me selfish, but i don’t ever want anyone else to touch you” he rests his forehead to yours, his hands resting on your waist “you’re mine, plain and simple”

“You never were one to do things the easy way” the two of you laugh before he kisses you “the easy way is boring”

Although you’re shocked about his confession, you daren’t pry more right now on his feelings. For now you just want to enjoy this moment. The two of you feel the same and that’s enough for you.

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

General Tags: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferous @bradfordmyworld @thereisa8ella @kaminorogers @yassspose @randomsevans

Just Chris & His Characters Tags: @onetwo3000 @persephonequeenofthedead @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @rynabarnesrogers @princess-evans-addict @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 @thejemersoninferno @denisemarieangelina @janeyboo @evansphnx12 @whxre4cevans

LMK if you wanna be added to my tag list.

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hannah-schooler · 3 years

Text

Fic writer interview!!!

Thanks so much for the tag @stormwarnings sorry it took me so long to do this!!! <33

how many works do you have on ao3?

9!!

what’s your total ao3 word count?

39,086. huh somehow I expected it to be higher than that

how many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

Just Star Wars! pretty much entirely The Clone Wars with all of my current fics and most of my WIPs focused on Anakin and Ahsoka

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

don’t just stand there staring, honey— a silly little fic about the Jedi and their troopers (Everybody Lives!AU) going undercover and they don’t understand that they’re all incredibly attractive. A sequel is coming....one day...

long after you’re gone (gone, gone)— 5+1; Five times Ahsoka left and the one time she came home. Happy ending, mostly

as if you don’t remember, as if you can forget—some post-Zygerria angst and healing. Aayla Secura and Ahsoka Tano centric. Lots of feels, angst, and hurt/comfort. Inspired by @webtrinsic1122 ‘s “Show Me Your Teeth”

once the last drop of rain has dried off the pavement— some MORE post-Zygerria recovery. This one is a little bit more pointed with what happened to Ahsoka and features a very distressed Anakin trying to figure out how to help his traumatized little sis.

said you’d always be my white blood (i need you right here with me)—post Trandoshans/Padawan Lost arc. I LOVE this arc and there’s not nearly enough content about it. Wrote this to fill a tumblr prompt not long ago so I’m actually surprised it’s in my top 5!! Hurt/comfort, recovery, scary!Anakin and Ahsoka bringing him back from the edge

do you respond to comments? why, or why not?

Yes!! people take the time to write them and they make me so so indescribably happy! I literally end up gushing about readers leaving comments as much as they do about my work!

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Definitely Never Let Me Go, but that was also my first ever work, and not my best. Pretty much all of my works have at least hopeful endings, if not happy, but my angstiest fic is you drew stars around my scars (but now i’m bleeding) so I’m gonna say that one

do you write crossovers? if so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

no, never have. I don’t think I could do it well and there’s not really any fandoms that I want to see mixed together

have you ever recieved hate on a fic?

thankfully, no. I think I would cry ahahaa. My readers are literally some of the kindest people in the world I love you guys so much!!!

do you write smut? if so, what kind?

no. never say never, but it’s unlikely. again, I don’t think I would do it well

have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of!

have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

have you ever co-written a fic before?

no but i’d probably be down!

what’s your all-time favorite ship?

like....ever?? idk if i can pick! Star Wars though is hard bc i’m not the hugest anidala fan but also don’t really ship Anakin with anyone else. I like Ahsoka ships, just cause she’s my favorite character, but not all of them work. My guilty pleasure ship is probably fives/ahsoka, but there’s not a lot of content for them. i’ll pretty much read anything that’s well written except for the ones that i really don’t like (not going to list, no hate here!)

what’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

ugh right now it feels like i will never finish the don’t just stand there sequel, but i will one day! I have several multi chap fics that I want to write including one about Rex and Ahsoka saving the 332nd, and one in an Anakin doesn’t fall-verse where he and Ahsoka free the slaves on Tatooine, but long fics are not my strong suit. (looks guiltily at my original novel i haven’t touched in 3 months)

what are your writing strengths?

i’d probably say the emotional aspects of the characters?? that’s what i most enjoy writing. I’ve also been told that my prose itself is good so maybe that too?

what are your writing weaknesses?

plotting lmao. and action sequences.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i mean my only other language i use is some sparse mando’a. I don’t speak any other languages so it’s probably not something i would think about. but i definitely enjoy fics and books that incorporate it because it adds such a cultural depth to the characters!! (i’m also such a sucker for the trope where Character A says something cute to their love interest in their native language, and when asked what they said they say something bland)

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

i have NO idea. I’ve been writing since I was really young, but maybe percy jackson? I remember writing for maze runner when i was like 12 but....

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

definitely you drew stars around my stars (but now i’m bleeding). I worked on it for so long and am really proud of it and the response it’s gotten

this was so fun!!! thanks again, @stormwarnings

Tagging: @ashgryff @lynnpaper @webtrinsic1122 and anyone else who wants to participate!! <333

#writer asks #fanfic game #fanfic #star wars the clone wars

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adenei · 4 years

Note

40 Prompt list #1 “ Why are you scared of loving?” I love love love seeing every time you post something new ❤️

Hi anon! Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this HBP Summer Moment. Thanks for the ask

*****************

Why, are you scared of loving?

“Good morning, dears!” Mrs. Weasley said as Ginny and Hermione sat down for breakfast. They tucked in after responding as Mrs. Weasley continued bustling around the kitchen.

“Molly, dear, come and eat, your food is getting cold,” Arthur called to her.

Hermione found herself watching as Mr. Weasley was busy preparing Mrs. Weasley’s porridge just the way she liked it, while Mrs. Weasley was tending to his tea. She only passed him the salt for his eggs, but not the pepper because she knew what he preferred, and then proceeded to warn him about using too much salt.

She knew she was distracted by them, and didn’t want to seem like she was staring, so Hermione put her focus back on her own dish as she heard their easy banter turn into quiet conversation.

“Sweet, isn’t it?” Ginny said quietly to her.

“What?” Hermione asked.

Ginny nodded at her parents. “The way they interact.”

“Oh, yes,” Hermione agreed.

“Reminds me of two other people I know,” Ginny said with a smirk.

Hermione responded with a questioning look just as Ron had come down the stairs. “Morning,” he mumbled as Mrs. Weasley got up to prepare his dish for him.

Ginny gave a slight nod towards him before eyeing Hermione with raised eyebrows. Hermione almost spit out her pumpkin juice at what Ginny was insinuating. It was completely ridiculous what she was implying. Ron caught the interaction and Hermione’s shake of her head. Ginny couldn’t possibly be right, could she?

Hermione thought back to Hogwarts and their meals. She supposed she did tend to pass Ron the foods that he preferred, and he’d do the same for her. They’d even prepare each other’s dishes for the other if they were early to the Great Hall. But that was just friendship, wasn’t it?

She watched as Mrs. Weasley saw her husband off to work, witnessing the tender moment they shared at the door before Mr. Weasley slipped out and Mrs. Weasley went back to the kitchen to take care of the dishes. Hermione finished her own breakfast, taking care of the remains before heading upstairs to get cleaned up. As she was passing the table, Ron asked her if she wanted to go for a walk later. She nodded, and told him she’d be in Ginny’s room when he was ready.

~o~

A short time later, Ron and Hermione found themselves walking along the grass toward the cluster of trees ahead of them. Hermione was still quiet, thinking about the loving encounters she’d witnessed between Ron’s parents that morning, and how much she wanted a love like that. Not that her parents didn’t love each other, but they’d never been so forward in front of her with their relationship.

Ron eventually drew her out of her own thoughts. “What was that look about that Ginny gave you at breakfast this morning?”

“What look?” Hermione responded innocently.

Ron laughed, seeing right through her faint attempt at forgetfulness. “You know, the one that made you almost spit out your pumpkin juice.”

Well, so much for attempting a flirty banter, Hermione thought. Not that she had any idea how to do that successfully anyways. “Nothing. She’d just pointed out something about your parents.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t necessarily the full truth either.

Ron looked at her, trying to understand what she meant. “Have you not seen them act like that before?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “That’s normal for them, I hardly ever notice it as being out of the ordinary.”

“Isn’t that a good thing, though? That they’re affectionate and still love each other deeply after so many years together?”

“Well, yeah, sure. I wasn’t saying it’s not. It’s how it’s always been. Thankfully, they keep the other stuff to themselves,” Ron remarked as his ears turned slightly pink at the thought.

Hermione laughed lightly. “Do you want that someday?” It was probably a loaded question, but she couldn’t prevent it’s escape from her lips.

“Want what?” Ron asked.

“What your parents have,” Hermione clarified.

“Er, I dunno. Maybe…” Ron said as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Maybe? Why’s that, are you scared of loving someone?” she teased.

“Are you?” Ron shot back at her.

Hermione probably should have expected him to do that, but it still took her by surprise. “I guess it depends on the person,” she said.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Ron gave her a questioning look.

Hermione thought about it before answering. “Well, it’d be rather unfortunate to fall in love with someone who didn’t share the same feelings. I suppose I’m scared of that scenario.”

“Makes sense…” Ron said slowly.

“So are you, then?” Hermione hadn’t forgotten that Ron hadn’t answered the question.

“Am I what?”

“Scared of loving someone? You pushed the question back on me and still haven’t answered.”

“I don’t think so. It’s not something I’ve really thought about.”

Hermione tried not to let his words bother her, but she felt her stomach twisting into knots. “Oh,” was all she said.

“What?” he asked, no doubt surprised that she didn’t have a lengthy response prepared for him.

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. It was silly, anyways. We’re only sixteen, what do we really know about love anyways,” Hermione said as she laughed nervously.

“Yeah, you’re right…” Ron said. There was something off about his voice.

She tried to avoid looking at him because she was afraid he’d see through her lie and realize how hopelessly head over heels she was for him, even though she still refused to admit it out loud. Just when she thought she was safe, however, she noticed Ron glancing at her with a look she couldn’t quite place. There was a softness in his gaze, and a look of...longing, was it? No, that couldn’t be it. She was too afraid of the disappointment to let her hopes up. She was barmy to think he could ever fall for someone like her.

#ROMIONE #hp hbp #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #ron x hermione

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mobagehelllocal · 4 years

Text

“dati” ver i - riddle, leona & azul

A/N: This piece is something I was meaning to write and post after I open my ask box again... but I thought you all deserved some really good new fluff prompts from me! For this one, please assume that you, the Reader, is different from the actual MC of TWST!

“Dati” is a pretty difficult word to translate, because it’s just one word but--it can mean so much. For the sake of this story, you can interpret its meaning as “a long time ago”.

Inspired by:

“Dati” by Sam Concepcion, Tippy Dos Santos and Quest. (I encourage you to listen to it OR read the English lyrics.)

“If You Can Dream” by the Disney Princesses. (I would link both but my posts dont appear if I do that ;u;)

Please enjoy!

PS: I realized about halfway that I accidentally crafted the narrative for a female reader instead of a more gender neutral one. I do apologize. PSS: This got so long, apparently I’m over word limit so I had to split it into two parts xD. The next part will come soon!

Other versions: ver i (this), ver ii (kalim, vil, idia, malleus)

"--as you already know. We held a school-wide meeting about the week long exchange program with the all-females private school, Garden Academy. Professors Divus Crewel and Mozus Trein accompanied our delegates to Garden Academy this morning,” Dire Crowley peered at his students through his black mask, “while Professor Mozus Trein stayed with our delegates, Professor Divus Crewel escorted the delegates from Garden Academy to Night Raven College.”

Excited whispers broke out in the crowd. Crowley cleared his throat once, then again--before everyone settled down. The Headmaster huffed audibly at that.

“I’ll be using this morning meeting to introduce the delegates,” Crowley turned to the left side of the stage. He motioned at Crewel who was standing back stage with a Garden Academy professor and her students. “Now then, please give a hand for--”

In the crowd, his eyes widened.

In turn, you were pretty excited too. You had held off telling your friend about you coming to his school because you wanted to surprise him.

All you girls had been assigned to a particular dorm, not to sleep in--but rather, to experience. Each dorm in NRC (much like GA), had their own unique culture. So, to truly experience the college meant you all needed to immerse yourselves in the different dorms and their cultures. You had to sneakily reconfirm with him what his dorm was, to make sure you got assigned to the correct one.

And now that you were here...

“Alright ladies,” Professor Radcliffe said kindly, “we will reconvene here at 5PM to return to the dorm Headmaster Crowley so generously set aside for us.”

“Yes Professor.” Radcliffe eyed all of you girls, before she sighed with an exasperated smile. You were all very excited, and doing very little to hide that.

“Okay, I know you want to go--but one last thing,” you all let out loud, false and very unladylike groans that Radcliffe ignored. “Remember to be beautiful--”

“At heart.” you all recited, familiar with your school’s motto.

“Go on then,” Radcliffe finally said, “the dorm heads and their assistants should be waiting outside for all of you.”

With a cheer, you all parted ways.

“Trey!”

Riddle watched with wide eyes, as he saw your familiar form--dressed in the yellow colors of House Cosmos, the House of Optimism--jump straight into Trey’s arms.

“Hey there.” Trey laughed, and he raised a hand to mess with your hair.

“Ow! Hey!” you grumbled up at Trey. “If Professor Radcliffe saw me...” you muttered, as you raised a hand to fix your hair. The girls who had followed behind giggled at your expression.

Riddle could only stare in surprise.

Oh he remembered you.

You had been introduced to him through Chenya and Trey during one of the last times he had managed to escape his house during his free time.

“Chenya! Trey! There you are!” your cheerful voice had rung loud and sweet in the Clover’s Bakery. “I thought we were meeting up at the park--?” you had paused in surprise as you took in the sight of an additional boy with your friends. He flinched, his shoulders rose as he ducked into himself. Were you going to get mad at him for stealing your friends?

“Oh--um, hello!” your surprised expression quickly melted into a friendly smile and you hopped over to sit next to Riddle. He flinched again, and Chenya snickered.

“Don’t scare him, [Name].”

“I’m not trying too.” you pouted at Chenya, who only laughed louder in response.

“Ah [Name]. This is Riddle Rosehearts.” Trey jumped in, “he lives in the house with the roses you like.”

“Oh!” you brightened up, and he flushed red as you drew even closer to him. “Hi! My name is [Name]. Let’s be friends!”

“I--we just met?” he said, weakly. Chenya laughed again.

“I think you just got rejected, [Name]!”

“Oh shut it Chenya!” you turned back to him, and beamed. “Silly Riddle, there are no rules when it comes to making friends, you know?” you offered your hand, palms up, to him.

He looked up at Trey, who gave him an encouraging smile. He slowly placed his hand in yours, and mumbled a soft--

“Okay.”

Riddle never forgot you.

He never forgot the words you had spoke to him that day.

He remembered clearly how hurt he was when his mother grew even more strict and didn’t allow him to see his first friends. He remembered being angry at you too--you told him there were no rules when it came to making friends--

‘Then why had mother been so mad at me?’ He remembered thinking. “Was [Name] lying? Maybe there really are rules in making friends?”

Looking back on it--his anger was misplaced. He had just been sad--caught up in his mother’s expectations. He had suffered so much for her ideals, that a part of him wanted to believe it was real or...

He would’ve given up on Chenya... Trey... and you... for nothing.

While he had eventually reunited with Trey in Night Raven College, and Chenya (ever the sneaky type) had met him again during breaks in the school year--he had never seen you again.

He never asked about you.

Trey or Chenya never mentioned you either.

He wondered if you had just slipped away from them.

‘Or maybe you just didn’t want to see me.’

He shouldn’t be surprised.

He should’ve expected it.

After all, he’s pretty sure friends can’t be friends if they don’t see each other in years. (His friendships with Trey and Chenya--these were things he felt that he had just recreated.)

“Wait... Riddle?” He flinched as he heard you call his name. He looked up, only to give you a weak smile.

“Hi [Name].” your eyes widened, you looked up at Trey then back at him before a smile spread across your face. “Riddle!” you cheered happily, as you wrapped your arms around him. He sputtered, and Trey smirked in response.

“It’s been a really long time! How are you?” you pulled back and cupped his cheeks in your soft hands. Riddle immediately felt his face heat up in response to your attention.

You had always been affectionate--and Riddle, who had been so starved of social connections--never got used to it. He never had the chance to.

“I’m... okay.” he managed, and he didn’t know how you did it--but your smile somehow brightened even further.

It was that same sweet smile you would give him when you were children. A smile that made his heart beat fast.

“That’s good!” you easily laced your fingers together with his, and he felt himself blush harder.

“You--you aren’t mad?” he stuttered out in response, and you tilted your head at that.

“Why... would I be mad?”

“Because... I just... stopped being a friend.” he hesitated, worried that if he brought it up--you would remember that he had never tried to contact you.

“That’s silly Riddle.” you said, “It’s not your fault! My family moved away after you stopped coming to see us--so I wasn’t able to keep in contact with you. I was able to with Trey and Chenya but... neither of them told me they met up with you again.” you tilted your head in the opposite direction. “I’m partly to blame. I didn’t ask about you either, you know?”

“That is...”

“And who says we stopped being friends? I told you right? There aren’t rules when it comes to making friends. So to me, I never stopped thinking of you as my dear friend.”

Riddle was overcome with the desire to cry.

“You don’t want our friendship to end right?” your smiled dimmed slightly. “Or... at least I hope so...”

“No...” his lower lip wobbled, and you leant forward to press your forehead against his. “I’m sorry about back then... it was because...” he hesitated, he wasn’t sure he was ready to tell you everything now--about his mother, about the overblot, about his resolve--

He began to panic, unsure how to go about this.

“Take your time Riddle.” you told him, eyes soft with affection. “As your friend, I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me.”

“Thank you.” His eyes slid shut, and he moved to embrace you in full--which you gladly reciprocated. You let go after a few moments, and smiled at Riddle. The boy shot you a weak smile. You then chose to shoot a glare at your other childhood friend

“Well then, Trey--you better explain yourself.” you threatened the third year, who raised his hands defensively.

“I thought it would be a good surprise.”

“Boo! So you knew I’d be coming here?”

“I had an idea.” Trey smirked in response to that. You huffed, before you turned back to Riddle with a grin.

“Then, shall we catch up now? I want to know all about Heartslabyul, while I’m here! You’ll tell me, won’t you Riddle?”

“Yes he will. After all Riddle is the dorm leader for Heartslabyul.” Trey chimed in, and you blinked before you turned back to him.

“Woah! That’s amazing! That’s so cool! As expected of Riddle!” you laughed happily, he blushed again. You easily kept your hand laced with his as he began to tell you more about Night Raven College and the Heartslabyul dorm.

Unconsciously, his hand tightened around yours.

He was more than thrilled that you two had found each other again. He was determined to make sure that this time--

He would be a better friend to you.

"Prince Leona!” Leona could barely stop the angry growl that came out of his mouth as you came to a stop in front of him.

‘I should’ve known.’

“You.” he said, his lips curled downward. His ears and tail flicked in an irritated manner.

“Me.” you leant forward, hand on your hips. “Why so hostile, Prince Leona?”

“Stop calling me that.” He turned away, his ears twitched in annoyance. Beside him, Ruggie peered up at you curiously. You were a little taller than the hyena, dressed in the pale pink colors of House Peach Blossom--the House of Courage. He noticed that almost all students from Peach Blossom had their magic wands and sword at their waist--including you.

“How do you know Leona?” Ruggie asked you, since he knew that Leona was likely not going to answer him.

“Oi, Ruggie--” Leona shot him a glare, but you didn’t seem to mind since you interrupted the prince.

“That’s because he is my Prince.” you said with a grin.

“What-!?” Ruggie sputtered, while Leona only groaned in response.

“Prince Leona, you really should get up.” Leona’s visible ear twitched at the sound of your voice. He buried his head stubbornly into his pillow. “Come on, you have class soon!”

Ever since you had arrived here, and essentially received permission to enter the Savanaclaw dorm--not even the dorm members could stop you from barging into Leona’s room. He had ordered them earlier to get in your way--not to beat you (he knew exactly how strong you were) but if there was one thing he could attempt to do--it was to delay you as much as possible.

However...

“That’s because he is my Prince.” you had said with a grin. Ruggie sputtered, and Leona groaned.

“She’s a member of Afterglow Savanna’s Royal Guard.” Leona had to explain through gritted teeth.

“Yes, hence why he is my Prince.” You say with such blind honesty and devotion that Leona could barely look. He chose to avert his gaze instead, his tail flickered in embarrassment.

As someone who had trained to be a part of the Royal Guard since your youth--the students of Savanaclaw were no match for you. You had easily wrestled them all to defeat. Once his dorm members realized that there was simply no beating you, they had all given up (their prides were badly bruised at it was already)--and Leona had mourned the fact that none of them were willing to buy him time to sleep in.

‘What a bunch of dorm members really...’ he grumbled to himself. ‘Not willing to help their dorm leader...’ he thought, sarcastically.

“Come on my Prince,” you said in a soft tone, despite the fact you were basically engaging Leona in a tug of war with his blanket. “You have to go to class.”

“Do you have any idea how surprised my classmates and professors are, now that I’m actually coming to class?” he grumbled.

“Then I’m doing my job right.” you said in a very matter-of-fact tone. He lifted his head to shoot a glare at you. “You are a Prince of Afterglow Savanna! You must--”

“Don’t talk to me about crap like that.” he hissed. “Did the King and Queen put you up to his? Perhaps the First Prince? Is my position in the school making trouble for the royal family? So much so they sent you--?”

“Prince Leona, that is not true!” You frowned, “your family is just concerned--”

“And where was this concern when they could hear the people talk about me behind my back?” he growled as he grabbed your arm, and you yelped in surprise. “Back then they weren’t there but--”

‘I had you. You were the only who saw me and now you--’

‘Are you choosing them over me?’

‘Are you... just going to chose them... like everyone else?’

Leona’s heart twisted, and he ignored it to focus on his anger instead.

“Le--my Prince that’s--”

“Stop calling me that!” He snarled, “You’re just doing this for Farena, aren’t you? If you do your task well, maybe he’ll notice you and make you his second wife? Wouldn’t you--”

Smack.

“You... you think I chose to be a part of the Royal Guard... for Prince Farena?”

He turned back to you, alarmed. In all the time he had known you--you had never sounded like that.

Your lips were twisted downward in a frown, the hand that had slapped him was now tenderly holding onto the forearm that he had squeezed earlier in his own hand. He could see that your skin had reddened from his tight hold.

“A... are you an idiot?” you moved your hand onto your chest as your lower lip trembled. “I joined the guard for you, Leona. I joined because I believed in you, in Leona Kingscholar. Whatever role you might yet play—I believed in you! In your intelligence, in your capacity to understand people! I wanted to be there with you! I wanted to fight for what you believe in—because I believed in you.” You stepped back, and his mouth parted open in surprise.

“How could you say that? How could you even think that?” you asked him in a hoarse voice, “There’s no one I wanted to support as much as--as much as I wanted to support you. I--I always knew you were amazing Leona. I was only ever looking at you.” you sniffed, your eyes wet with tears.

Leona realized that he was just about to loose the one person who ever acknowledged him.

“[Name]--” when he reached a hand out, you flinched, and he felt himself pale.

When everyone else had flinched away from his powers...

You had always been the one who had--unfailingly--grabbed onto his hand without fear.

“[Name]... I’m...”

‘Come on--set your pride aside and apologize.’ he couldn’t help but hiss at himself.

“I’m...”

“You don’t have to say it Prince Leona.” you said, voice thick with emotions. “Your tail is giving it away.” At that statement, he shot you a weak glare as he stilled his tail.

“How’d you know?” he asked. You looked up at him with an incredulous stare.

“You were never good at saying sorry.” you muttered underneath your breath. “So I just figured it out from the way you acted around me.” you inhaled sharply, “just give me a moment... and I’ll be okay.”

‘You... why...’ his fist clenched unconsciously. ‘Why do you have to understand me so well?’ He studied the way you ducked your head, the way you steadied your breath. ‘All that time you watched me... I... I know that what you’ve always wanted was an apology but--but I’ve always just taken all your forgiveness without trying harder.’

‘I don’t deserve you, do I? What have I done? That you--powerful, strong, fierce as you are--why have I let you think you don’t deserve an apology? Why have I let you think that it was okay for me to--not apologize?’

‘This is why I’m going to lose you.’

You always came to me... I--’

‘I never met you halfway.’

“I’m sorry.” your head shot up in response, and though you could tell from Leona’s expression that he’d rather be doing anything but this--he opened his mouth again. “I’m sorry [Name]... you got stuck with a selfish friend.”

He began to panic inwardly when the sniffling that you had managed to calm down--rose again.

However--you weren’t crying because you were sad--you were crying because you were happy.

All this time--a cruel whisper in the back of your head insisted you were the only one who cared about your relationship. Around you--people doubted your friendship with Leona.

You tried--you did your best to ignore it, but sometimes in your lowest moments--it consumed you.

And Leona--unknowing, but effortlessly good and perfect as he was to you--always kept you afloat.

He had been watching you too.

Keeping an eye out.

Looking on at you with some form of care--and dare you hope--love.

Because he had known that even if you told him you were okay--that you actually weren’t. That you wanted him to say sorry even if you pretended that you were used to it.

“[Name]?” Leona was knelt in front of you--and you belatedly realized that you had slid to the ground. He studied your face, and hesitated to touch you after earlier.

Kind. Understanding. Smart.

If people would just acknowledge Leona--they would see what you could see.

This is the king I know he is, the king I see inside.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Give me a minute.”

“When you get emotional, it doesn’t take you a minute.” he grumbled, but it was gentle, and your heart warmed as you recognized once more how much he knew you.

“Acting like a know-it-all already, huh, Prince Leona?” he winced at that.

“Why do you keep calling me that anyways?” he moved a hand to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t... like it.”

“Because you are one, and my position in the guard...”

“But not... not when it’s just the two of us.” he mumbled, and you blinked in surprise. “I want... I want you to remember that--when I’m with you I’m... I’m just Leona. To you I--I shouldn’t be a royal or a prince first I’m... I’m your friend.” You could feel your cheeks heat up at his statement.

“Have you gotten sappy, my Prince?” you said--suddenly as you tried to change the mood. It was embarrassing. He bristled in response.

“[Name].” he growled low, and you giggled. His heart eased at the sight of your smiling visage.

‘Good. I never want to see you cry again. If you were to cry then--let them be happy tears only.’

“Alright then... my friend... Leona.” your smile widened.

‘I have a lot to do. I have a lot to make up.’ he thought, but as he sees you smile at him--he knew that you were always going to be worth the effort.

‘And perhaps one day you can simply be mine... and I can be solely just yours.’

“Azul!” you waved happily as the octopus mermaid groaned, and held his temples in his hands. A step behind him, Jade chuckled.

“Why... why are you here?”

“Aww, did you not want to see me?” you peered at him. You were dressed in the brilliant orange colors of House Hibiscus--the House of Tenacity--which, to his mind, suited you very well.

“You’re just here to embarrass me.” Azul groaned, and you smirked.

“I can’t help it, especially when you pretend to act so cool.”

“I hate you. I want my octopus pot.” He groaned into his hand.

“I love you too~” His face flushed red at that, and your heart skipped a beat at how adorable he was.

You remembered it like it was yesterday.

You had gone out to the beach, your toes dipped into the water as you gazed out toward the expanse of the ocean as the morning sky cleared. You sighed--there was nothing more beautiful that the ocean at sunrise. (You didn’t know how your younger self did it, but you were often able to wake up early just to see the sight.)

Then, all of a sudden, one of your toes was nibbled on. You blinked in surprise then looked down to see a little fish nibble on your toe. When it noticed it had your attention, it began to swim around in a circle, before going off into a certain direction. You just stared at it for awhile, until it suddenly came back and bit your toe as hard as it could--before attempting to pull you off into a certain direction.

“Oh! Ah--but my grandmother isn’t with me.” you told the fish sadly, “I can’t just use my magic to explore without her...” The fish only became more panicked, and you quickly got the gist of what she might be worried about.

“What? There’s a merman stuck in some nets?” you hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, and you had a dagger with you for moments like this--but you really shouldn’t be going swimming unsupervised...

“Alright, I’ll come, but we can’t spend too much time or I might blot...” you stood up, and closed your eyes.

“[I am the Ocean].” You whispered, and in the next second you dove deep into the water.

Your affinity with water magic was obvious because of your lineage. Your unique magic was different in that it allowed you to turn your whole body into water. At a young age, it was impressed upon you how important it was that you learnt your limits and refined your control. Not only were you battling against overblot, but you were also battling with the possibility that you might accidentally disperse yourself into the water, and be unable to turn back.

You trained as much as you can, so at that point you had been able to maintain your magic for a couple of minutes.

Because your whole body turned into water, you were nearly invisible underwater--the only clue that you were there was because your clothes were still on you.

You followed after the fish, and she took you past the reef, into a deeper part of the ocean that you hadn’t explored before.

“--Hngh!” you heard a loud, crying sound and you immediately began to swim faster.

“Admit it Azul,” the voice seemed to be talking to himself. “no one is going to come save you. Even the fish from earlier just turned on it’s tail and swam away...” As you turned the corner, you caught sight of an octopus mermaid--who looked about your age--caught up in a large net.

“Huh? You’re back?” the octopus mermaid moved underneath the netting once he caught sight of the fish, then he scampered back once he saw your floating clothes. “Wha--what the? Did you bring a ghost to kill me?” the mermaid wailed, and you would’ve giggled if you could. You swam closer, and pulled the knife from your thigh. The octopus mermaid screamed in response, and moved away in a frantic manner--only to get tangled in the nets further.

“You really want me dead?” the mermaid cried.

You shot a desperate look at the fish, who began to chirp at the merman.

“Huh? It’s a person?” the mermaid turned his head, his violet eyes squinted. “she can turn into water...?” you moved your hands into an ‘okay’ sign, but judging from the way his gaze didn’t move meant that he probably couldn’t see it. “So she’s going to use the dagger to cut me out...?”

You decided to reach forward for one of his hands. He originally flinched, but he let you lace your fingers around his. You tightened your hold briefly, and hoped that it was enough.

‘I won’t hurt you. Not now, not ever.’

“T-Thank you.” he mumbled out, and you couldn’t help but smile. You then let go of his hand and began to cut through the rope.

‘I hope I have enough magic to last...’

As you cut through the last of the ropes, you could feel the way your magic flickered. There’s a sudden gasp from the mermaid, and you realized that your hands were now visible. You clenched your jaw tightly, one of the ropes was particularly difficult, and the mermaid called out worriedly.

“Hey--will you be okay?” you ignored him as you worked through the last ropes, even if your vision dimmed. As you finally freed him, your hands shook, and your mouth slipped open. You gulped in a lot of water, and began to panic--and so does the mermaid.

“Oh no! Why--?” the mermaid cried, “what do I do?” you hear him ask the fish as you lose your consciousness. You felt his arms wrapped around yours as he tried to propel himself up to the surface.

“Come on Azul, you need to be fast for once!”

"So, I definitely get a free meal, right?” you peered at Azul. “Best friend perks, right?”

“... Fine.” Azul grudgingly said. You were--perhaps--one of the only people who Azul couldn’t say no to. You cheered happily in response, as your classmates called you out for being unfair.

He couldn’t help the fond smile that grows on his face as you laughed happily.

That day that you saved him--almost at the cost of your life too!--despite not knowing who he was...

Then the way you stuck around and befriended him, long before he had found any confidence in himself...

That you had seen him--at what he considered--was his most terrible state and thought nothing of it...

‘My debt to you is greater than even the ocean.’ he thought, however unlike any other time when thinking of his debts made him feel terrible--he was only filled with the desire to make sure he paid you back properly for all your kindness.

He had once told you about how much he owed you, but you dismissed it immediately.

‘Azul, you’re my oldest and best friend.’ you had told him, sincerity shimmered in the depths of your eyes. ‘You don’t owe me anything--besides back then, you saved me too, yeah?’

You would have to agree to disagree.

Even if he had saved your life too--it could not compare to how you saved him.

You had no idea how much you actually saved him... how much your friendship meant to him.

Azul could feel his tears stream down his face as managed to get you onto the beach of the island that the fish said was your home.

“Stupid Azul.” he frantically murmured to himself, “of course you managed to hurt the one person who cared to save you.” When he leant closer, he couldn’t tell if you were breathing or not and he was beginning to panic.

“Oh no, oh no oh no.” He sobbed loudly. “Please don’t die. Please don’t die. I don’t even know your name. I want to be your friend. I’ve never had a friend before--what do I do?” he cried. He heard irritated chirps, and when he turned his head, he noticed that the fish from earlier had followed him.

“Shake her.” the fish said. He did so, but you didn’t respond. “Tilt her chin and head back.” He did, and he heard you sputter, as water escape your mouth. You began to cough roughly, and you wearily opened your eyes to meet Azul’s.

“You... saved me...” you wheezed.

“Of course I did!” Azul wailed, “you saved me!”

You let out a laugh, before you began to cough again.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, give... me a moment...” you wheezed. He gave you a moment to breath, his tentacles curled around him nervously.

“Well, that was an experience.”

“Please don’t shake it off just like that.” he whimpered, “that was traumatizing.”

“Yeah sorry. I didn’t mean it.” you said with a wince. “... So what do we do now?”

“I... I don’t know.” Azul confessed.

“Then... shall we be friends?”

“R-really? You want to be friends with a useless octopus?”

“I’d love to be friends with you.” you frowned at him, “and you’re not useless. You saved my life. You couldn’t have done that if you were useless.” Azul wanted to argue, but you quickly moved on.

“So what’s your name?” you asked him.

“A-Azul... Azul Ashengrotto.”

“I’m [Name] [Surname].” you smiled as you stuck your hand out, pinky extended. “Let’s be friends for life Azul!”

He looked at your hand then back up at your face.

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked.

“You stick your pinky out, and...” you twisted your pinky with his, and his face flushed red at the sensation of your skin against his. Earlier, it had just felt like holding hands with a current moving the opposite way of the ocean...but your hand was warm. “Like this. We make a promise we can’t break!”

“What promise?” he gulped, and you only giggled. His face reddened in response. Your giggle was cute.

“That we’ll be friends for life Azul!”

“I... I’d like that...” he giggled too, and you beamed brightly.

“Azul, you’re finally smiling!”

You leant your cheek against your palm as you watch Azul run Mostro Lounge.

“Oh? You look deep in thought.” Your eyes flickered up to meet Jade’s eyes.

“Hm. Just thinking about how much Azul has changed.” you said, a proud smile spread on your face. “I’m... really happy for him. I think he’s found the pace he should go at...and look at him do so well.” Jade turned to Azul, and saw him bark orders at a huffing Floyd. His lips curled up in response.

“Yes. He truly has changed a lot.” Azul turned his head to see the two of you eyeing him with identical smiles. His brow twitched lightly, before he approached you two.

“Jade, I need you on Table Eight.” Jade bowed elegantly, and shot you a quick wink before he walked off.

“What were you talking about?”

“Just how amazing you are.” you said so nonchalantly, and gleefully watched his face turn red.

“Y--you!” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Please do not lie.” You giggled in response, before you gestured for him. to sit beside you. Azul did so and as he turned to you--you gave him a gentle smile. This time when he blushed, it reached his ears.

“I wasn’t lying Azul... I’m really happy for you. As someone whose watched you for a long time... I’m happy for how much you’ve grown. It makes me proud of you.” you sighed as you laced your fingers, “it makes me feel like you don’t need to rely on me anymore... It’s a little sad.”

“No.” he replied quickly, and you looked up surprised. Azul wasn’t meeting your gaze, but you could see his pale skin turn a bright crimson.

“I will always rely on you.” he met your gaze, “knowing that your eyes are on me... It makes me want to keep improving.” Your eyes widened, before they softened once more.

“Mhm. Then I’ll keep on being someone you can rely on.” You raise your pinky, and with a soft laugh he raised his hand to link his pinky with yours.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Extra A/N:

So... I had fun with this. I thought it would be much more interesting if I mixed and matched up the princesses and villains.

Honestly, I genuinely got super into making the Garden Academy. I debated whether or not to include Alice, Nala, Megara, Anna and Elsa--but I chose not to. THOUGH I did end up giving them House Names and values haha. In the end, I settled with the Twelve Disney Princesses. Here’s a link to some notes I have for the Garden Academy and it’s houses!

#aiwrites #aiscenarios #twisted wonderland #female reader #ai dati series #ai tga verse #twst #twst scenarios #twst riddle #twst leona #twst azul

342 notes · View notes

frogsmulder · 3 years

Text

Maybe There’s Hope: chpt 2 Like They Used to

Starting from the final events of 09x20 The Truth, Mulder and Scully tackle their new reality as fugitives. When they finally settle into things, Scully finds out she is pregnant again. A canon divergent AU where I thought, what if Scully got pregnant whilst on the run instead of at the end of season 11?

2.5k words; rated e; tagging @today-in-fic; read on ao3

Scully woke up first and smiled despite herself. The warmth of the sun streaming through the window made her skin tingle, washing her of the pain the previous night. Eyes still closed, she hummed, rubbing small circles through the fine hair on Mulder's forearm. She must have turned over in the night, her back now nestled into his chest and his arm wrapped around her, cocooning her in his warmth. His breathing was still low and deep from sleep. She leaned into the rise and fall of his chest, his strength gentle like the lap of the sea at the sand. She imagined the steady beat of his heart like the sweep of a lighthouse in the dark, the guiding metronome she followed. If it wasn't for the fact they had fallen asleep in yesterday's clothes atop of a motel bed, Scully could have kept playing pretend like it was two years ago on one of their lazy Saturday mornings they had made a habit of. If she didn't open her eyes, maybe she could stay in that fantasy a little longer: she would kick Mulder out of his bed to make a pot of coffee whilst she snuggled deeper into the sheets. He'd come back with two steaming mugs and they'd sit together reading (she, her book and him, another X File). She'd enjoy teasing him, telling him that the weekend was for relaxing and not for work.

"I am relaxing!"

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"Prove it."

"Does Agent Dana Katherine Scully always need proof for anything I do?"

"I'm still waiting."

And then he would tickle her legs under the covers with his feet, almost making her spill her drink. Or he would kiss her just to prove a point. Or both.

Scully bit her lip to stifle a laugh at the memories. Opening her eyes, she let reality flood in. It wasn't two years ago, back when things seemed simpler, but it did feel like a Saturday morning– it might well have been, she had already lost track of the days. She turned awkwardly in Mulder's arms, one of them still a dead weight over her, and traced his laugh lines with her eyes. In the brightness of the morning, she could see the bags under his eyes weren't so heavy. He looked rested and happy, the natural curve of his mouth pulling upwards into a soft smile. She cupped his jaw, stroking his cheek with her thumb, feeling the rough grain of his five o'clock shadow. When he didn't stir, she placed kisses to his stubbled jawline, waking him up the way she used to on a Saturday.

With his eyes closed, Mulder mumbled in his deep, sleepy baritone, "Hello."

"Hi," she whispered back.

He opened his eyes to see her face waiting, almost expectantly, mere inches from his. "Do you want me to make the coffee?"

She smirked, wriggling closer. "I want you in bed with me."

"We might have to actually get in it then."

Scully frowned, displeased with the idea of moving. Mulder laughed at her tiny pout and smoothed her wrinkled forehead under his thumb. Lifting her by the elbow, he prompted her to get up so they could pull the cover back and climb in.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Hmm. You?"

"Yes." He tucked an imaginary stray hair behind her ear, finding any excuse to touch her. She held his hand in place by her cheek, making sure he wouldn't let go, and sighed, his larger hand holding her, comforting her, protecting her. A grin too wide for his own good appeared across his face when he understood her meaning. Scully rolled her eyes and kissed the silly grin from him.

It was a sweet kiss that steadily grew into something more. Mulder leisurely explored the taste of her lips and she opened up to the feeling, tasting his tongue playfully in return. When he moaned, she giggled, pressing their foreheads together and licking her lips. Her tongue had subconsciously traveled her lower lip, savouring the warmth he had left there, but seeing his gaze fixed to her mouth, she took her lip between her teeth just for show.

"You're such a tease," he chuckled.

"And you're not?" Scully looked into his hazel eyes, the familiar feeling of being lost in them, inching up her spine.

Mulder kissed her in reply: a full, heated kiss that put to rest any questions about who was the tease.

Scully combed her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, bringing them closer with her leg hooked over his hip. She would have giggled again at the roughness of his jeans against her smooth skin– a reminder of their strange situation– but she felt too good to stop kissing. He was awakening parts of her that she hadn't known in years; fuzzy warmth tingling through all of them to the tips of her fingers and toes. When he slipped the gown from her shoulders, his fingertips lightly tickling her skin, she didn't complain.

Mulder stopped to look at her: red, plush lips, misty blue eyes, hair somehow still immaculate. He felt his heart clench with that indescribable feeling. Returning his palm to her cheek, he tried to touch the sensation, make it tangible, and better comprehend it. Scully nuzzled into him and he realised that he would never understand how he was worthy of such love, especially the highest pedigree that was Scully's love. He was just grateful to know it.

He trailed his fingers over her shoulder, drawing patterns between the dusting of her freckles. Her pale skin glowed in the morning light; her hair caught like a halo of fire too. Resting his hands at the knot of her tie, Mulder cautiously looked up, asking silent permission to undress her completely. With a small simper, Scully nodded slowly. He pulled the robe from her and threw it haphazardly to the corner of the room.

"That's not even the corner with the chair in," she laughed.

"I know."

Scully kicked the covers down and Mulder nudged her onto her back, kissing his way down her neck. He pressed his lips to every inch of her skin, licking and nibbling until she was squirming and giggling. He was methodical, remembering all the points that made her moan and all the places that made her gasp like their relationship was still green. It was about the only thing he did methodically.

Upon reaching her breasts, he sat up and sighed, holding both of them in his hands. Gently palming them, he watched Scully bite her lip in anticipation and her nipples harden further as he swiped his thumbs across them. Leaning down, he pushed them together, first drawing his nose up the valley and then his tongue, blowing cool air on her wet skin afterwards.

Scully involuntarily arched her back when she felt his mouth swirl around one nipple. And then the other. Bolts of lightning shot to her core, warming her in that way that left a delicious, hazy ache in its wake. Eyes closed, she bit back a whimper, smiling, having missed the feeling for so long.

A different kind of ache began to settle in her breast and she tugged Mulder up, smirking at his glistening lips, to distract herself. His eyes, though dark, grew soft with concern.

"I need you up here with me," she answered.

"Of course," he smiled, crawling back up to her.

She pulled his t-shirt over his head and threw it perfectly into the chair. He stopped and laughed, shaking his head. His breath hitched when her hand palmed him through his pants. She wasted no time, deftly undoing them and pulling them down his thighs. He helped her the rest of the way and chucked them in a pile on top of his t-shirt.

"One-all," he grinned. "Looks like we drew."

She cupped his face– "We'll have to find a way to settle the score then." and kissed him, giving him as good as he gave.

Mulder shuffled awkwardly and Scully broke away, raising an eyebrow. He held up his boxers and waved them like a victory flag.

"Da-nah!" He scrunched them up and flung them to the chair with the others. "Two-one: I guess, I win."

"As referee, I disqualify that one."

"You're just a sore loser."

"I'm just trying to level the playing field."

"Do I still get to play?"

"Mhmm." She claimed his lips, burning with need, and let her hands wander the expanse of his back.

He rolled them over, so he was gazing up at Scully in all her beauty, her now longer hair cascading around her face, framing her features in fiery ribbons. He liked it longer, it reminded him of when she had first introduced herself to him. He had been so naive then to think she was on anybody's side but his. And she was still with him even now.

Yet she hesitated. The smile falling from her eyes was replaced with something unreadable that scared him.

"Scully?"

"Please... Please could you be on top?" she asked.

"Yeah." He let her climb off and lie down next to him, seeing her visibly relax as she laid her head down beside his, a meek smile at the corners of her mouth. He brushed her hair behind her ear again, repeating the soothing motion. "Okay?"

"Yeah, I just..." Being in charge of the situation, she felt that other ache deepen into something akin to dread. She couldn't place it and didn't know how to begin describing it to him as much as she wanted to. "... Don't want to be on top," she concluded.

"We don't have to–"

"No, it's not that." She shook her head and simpered, playing with his thatch of chest hair. Sighing, she ran her hands down further and told him a half-truth to ease his worry. "I'd rather feel you closer to me."

Mulder groaned when she held him and began running her fist up and down his shaft. She chuckled at how quickly she could elicit a response from him.

"Still want to play?" she asked.

"If you do."

Mulder waited for her to nod before moving ontop, cupping her face as she guided him home. He watched Scully bite her lip as he pushed in slowly, taking the time to savour every moment of her expression. She looked up at him with clear crystal eyes and he felt that tether between them strengthen.

"Hello," she whispered, pushing his hair up off his face. She kissed him, reveling in the searing heat they created between their bodies.

"Hi," he chuckled. "Okay?"

"Yeah."

He pushed languidly in and out of her, finding an easy rhythm like the gentle strength of the tide. They made love lazily, playfully– like they used to on their Saturday mornings– until the waves crested and crashed and he felt her shudder beneath him. He followed her, tumbling off the cliff, buried in her scent, her heat, her hair, her being.

Scully still clutching at his back, pressed his weight into her chest, fingernails digging in slightly. She was panting beneath him, so Mulder moved to give her some room to breathe, but she pulled him closer.

"Stay," she huskily implored him.

"I'm crushing you, Scully."

"Mhmm," she agreed, smiling shyly, distracting herself.

Mulder kissed her temple and nuzzled deeper into the swathes of her hair splayed across the pillow; the smell of her– them– as addictive as it had ever been. They stayed curled tightly around one another for a while until Scully softened her grip and let him go to the bathroom. He returned a few moments later with a warm washcloth and handed it to her. Enamoured, he watched her clean between her thighs, thinking it might be his favourite part of Saturday mornings. A close second then.

"I was gonna jump in the shower now; you wanna join me?"

She looked up and handed him the cloth back. "No, that's okay. You go ahead."

She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, lips pressed into a thin smile that he assumed was meant to reassure him, but the detached look in her eye only made him anxious. Dejected that she didn't want his company, that she felt she couldn't share her trouble with him, Mulder nodded and went into the ensuite alone.

Scully sighed after he closed the door, cursing the heavy weight in her chest. It was like God couldn't let her have one moment of happiness without somehow tainting it, reminding her that her current situation wasn't happy, making her feel guilty if she found a small quantum pocket of joy. One arm wrapped around her naked waist, the other fiddling with her pendant, she huffed, pushing down the feelings, disregarding them as immature. She padded barefoot over to the chair, picking up her discarded robe on the way. She folded each garment neatly, placing them on the arm, apart from his t-shirt, which she wore. Clutching the collar to her nose, she inhaled the distinct smell of Mulder and sleep, dragging her back into that dream of lazy Saturday mornings. Whilst she was waiting, she made the bed: plumped up the pillows, straightened out and tucked in the comforter, even though she knew the sheets needed changing. It was just something to do to keep her occupied– she feared those emotions would rise to the surface given half a chance.

With nothing left to do, Scully found her thoughts scarily empty, instead only a feeling a magnetism drawing her towards the bathroom. Before she knew it, she had already turned the handle of the door and found herself sitting on the edge of the tub, watching Mulder run soap through his hair. She couldn't tell if it was the steam that was soothing, or if just being in Mulder's presence calmed her, but when he grinned upon seeing her, she smiled too.

He saw she was wearing his t-shirt that was ten sizes too big for her, the hem reaching halfway down her thighs. He hummed appreciatively. "I see my shirts have got joint custody again."

A simper played across her lips, but she ignored the comment. "We need to get some clothes, even if it's one set that we wash and wear alternatingly."

"I don't mind having only one shirt if it always smells of you." His voice was plain and candid and Scully couldn't tell if he was being serious, though he probably was.

"Practically speaking, Mulder, you would."

He shrugged. "I'm sure I could live with the burden."

He emptied an entire one of the travel bottles of shower gel into his palm and struggled to keep a hold of it all.

"Jesus, Mulder!" Scully laughed. "You don't need that much."

"You gonna help me with it then?" he cheekily grinned.

Mocking reluctance, Scully undressed and joined him under the shower spray.

#my fic #Maybe there's hope #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #on the run #xf fanfic

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gyuutahoe · 5 years

Text

The Pen and Sword - Part 3

Summary: Newly recruited to the Demon Slayer Corps, you finally meet your designated swordsmith. He may be as much of a misanthrope as others had warned, but you were nothing if not determined to bring him out of his shell.

Warnings: None

a/n: female reader, eventual smut, penpals with the feral misanthrope, both reader and Haganezuka are seventeen at the start of the story, established backstory for reader.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Marketplaces were always your weakness.

The hypnotic, dizzying flux of city life was exhilarating, and you channeled that excitement into each step you took through the beautiful, colorful, noisy market of Osaka. Had it not been for the irascible young Pillar of Flame keeping you on track, you might have wandered off and lost yourself in kimono patterns and antique teacups. Your hands were itching for a needle and thread these days.

Rengoku’s grip on your sleeve was like a leash. It reminded you of your oldest brother, so stern and resolute. “Can you walk faster?” he grumbled, tugging you along. “You’re like a bird, getting distracted by shiny things.”

A retort was on the tip of your tongue, only … something shiny did catch your eye, a multitude of tinkling glass wind chimes dangling from wooden scaffolding and beckoning you closer with their paper ends, stretching out towards you like old friends as the wind rattled their clappers.

“Rengoku-san, will this market still be here after we find the demon?”

He looked at you as though you were a pesky child. “You win a few fights and you already think the world waits for you? We have another assignment after this.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” you lightly said, and the corner of your mouth quirked upward. “I thought I saw a pretty comb that Ruka might really like. It had a fox painted on it.” You blinked up at him. “Did you know that’s her favorite animal?”

Rengoku eyed you for a moment before turning away with a guarded expression. “Is it now …” he trailed off.

You smiled in victory and looked behind you, catching a fleeting glimpse of the wind chimes as your sword rested comfortably at your hip.

———————❖———————

Haganezuka was at a loss.

A package rested inconspicuously on his table as he knelt before it, examining it from all directions until curiosity finally won him over and urged him to pluck off the accompanying letter attached to the wrapping.

He did not request a shipment of supplies recently, and the box was far too small to be a customer’s blade. And when he saw your name written on the sealed letter, with penmanship far more beautiful than he had ever seen before, Haganezuka was still baffled. You said you would write to him, not send him anything. Were these the remnants of your sword? Did you stuff the broken pieces into a small box like some ungrateful heathen? The mere thought of it made his pulse race, and before he could calm himself, he was tearing the wrapping to shreds.

A wind chime.

His clawed hands paused immediately upon seeing the fragile glass, and his ire diffused instantly as he carefully brought it out to hold in his hands.

The glass had the barest hint of green tint pressed into it. Very different from his collection. Even the flowers were different, some sort of outrageous white shape he had never seen before. Haganezuka dangled the wind chime by its string to hear its sound - light, high-pitched, and quick. Not quite like the lower melody of his bells, but it pleased him all the same. It was a new sound to admire and focus on, with just the right amount of bite to its song to grab his attention. He played with the bell for a minute, swaying it to and fro as he listened. The sound did not calm him so much as it invigorated him. Like it had something important to say and demanded his audience.

He hadn’t received a gift so thoughtful in a long time. Why did you send him this?

The letter.

Haganezuka-san, I hope you do not mind me sending you a package so suddenly. I came across a marketplace where a glass blower sold handcrafted wind chimes, and I thought of you instantly. The flowers are sagisō. They mean ‘my thoughts will follow you into your dreams’. It is my way of hoping my good wishes reach you. Please accept this gift as thanks for your beautiful blade. It has served me well so far - I have slain three demons with ease. Take care of yourself.

———————❖———————

A few days passed before you received a response. Not that you expected one to begin with, so it was a lovely surprise to come back to after a long day of training with Kuwajima.

I received your wind chime and hung it at the door of my forge. Clean your blade daily. Don’t be lazy. Safe travels.

You imagined him hesitating at the last sentence, pen hovering over the paper as he thought of an adequate send-off. It made you giggle fondly as you hid your smile behind the letter, innocently ignoring the questioning glance of your mentor.

———————❖———————

The lingering chill of spring gave way to an undeniably relaxing summer breeze, prompting Haganezuka to wander out of his forge in search of a local villager’s food cart. He did not have the patience to cook for himself. Why waste precious time when he still needed to harden the edge of his clay-encrusted sword?

And that is how the postman found him, stuffing his face with a bowl of yakisoba while he walked back to work.

He glared at the cowering man and grabbed the proffered letter. Let’s see what jackass needs another replacement , he groused to himself as he tore it open, balancing the yakisoba in the crook of his arm.

Familiar handwriting. How could he forget this penmanship befitting of an aristocrat? It could only be you.

Haganezuka-san, I felt inspired to write to you once more. It relates to a mission I recently completed. A demon lured me into the forest in hopes of blinding me with darkness. But I had the company of the full moon to light my path, and by fortuitous chance, I happened upon a grassy clearing that was illuminated by fireflies!

Haganezuka pinched the edges of the paper so tightly that the veins in his fingers threatened to burst. If this was leading to a jibe about his name, he would make you pay.

I wanted to close my eyes and listen for the demon, as I always do, but for the first time I felt inclined to rely on my sight. The fireflies really captivated me. The weight of my blade kept me focused on the task at hand, but I could not help the sudden strike of realization that occured to me as I watched the fireflies. And that thought is as follows: could it be that you were named Hotaru because the bright sparks flying out from striking a heated blade reminded your father of fireflies? The idea made me smile. I sat and watched the fireflies for a while. There is much to learn from their movements. Anyway, I drew the forest when I had some time after the battle.

He blinked and stared at the sketch. Simple yet structured. Every pen stroke held an important detail. It was not a masterpiece, but it was lovely all the same.

Heated sparks … like fireflies …

Perhaps his given name was not so embarrassing after all.

———————❖———————

Hello again! What I am about to say may seem silly, but I always dreamed of seeing the ocean, and that day has finally arrived! I cannot begin to explain the terrifying vastness of the water. Have you ever seen the ocean? Did it exhilarate and humble you like it did to me? I dared to walk barefoot along the coastline, even though it felt like I could be pulled in at any moment. The water was very cold and the salty air turned my hair into brittle kelp, but the sand felt so soft between my toes. I listened to the waves for a long time while I meditated with my sword in my lap. Ocean waves look very similar to the hamon on my blade. As per usual, I drew the landscape for you in case you have not seen the ocean.

Haganezuka treated himself to some dango as he read your letter. Later on, he would still taste the saltiness of the dango on his tongue as he folded burning steel. While he lost himself in thought during the methodical process, the wind chime at his door brought forth the memory of your light laughter. Did you laugh this freely as the water lapped at your feet? Did you taste the salty air on your tongue? Haganezuka somehow felt like he was there with you.

———————❖———————

I heard an interesting saying - the pen is mightier than the sword. Perhaps that might not resonate with you, but I wonder what you think about this phase.

———————❖———————

For the first time since the start of your one-sided correspondence, Haganezuka wrote you an actual, full-length letter. Or rather, he sent you pages upon pages of nothing other than his thoughts on how the pen was not, in fact, mightier than the sword, and that he nearly used your letter to wrap his steel wafers for smelting because it angered him so.

- dumbass would believe that bullshit. Did words allow the Edo bakufu to secure power? No, it was blood and steel. If I could meet the moron who thought of that saying, I would shove that pen right up his -

“What’s making you laugh so hard?”

You tittered as Ruka sat down beside you. “My swordsmith.” You passed the letter to your curious friend. “He has such a way with words, don’t you think?”

Seconds into reading the letter, her neutral demeanor turned into one of mild bemusement. “What a thing to send to a young woman,” Ruka drawled, handing the letter back to you.

“Not so different from Rengoku-san, though.”

She smiled fondly. “No. Not at all.” With the grace of one who hides the sudden spark of an idea, Ruka motioned you to turn around. “Let me braid your hair. The summer heat must be strangling your poor neck right now.”

You dutifully complied. Soft, gentle fingers brushed through your hair, making your scalp tingle pleasantly.

Why don’t you ever let me style your beautiful hair? Mother keeps telling me how unattentive I am with you -

“ - to me very soon.”

“I - I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” You sucked in a quick breath. “I got distracted by that pesky cicada.”

“I said Shinjuro will propose to me very soon.” Ruka weaved a ribbon through your hair as she spoke. “Perhaps at the end of summer, so that we will have time to prepare for a winter ceremony.”

“That is wonderful!” you gasped. “To think, only three months ago he was still figuring out how to give you that fox comb. You know I walked in on him practicing that, right?”

Her melodic laugh was infectious. “And then he handed it to me as though he were a general barking a command at his soldier,” she reminisced, carefully moving the finished braid over your shoulder. “That blush was as fierce as the red in his hair.”

“He tries his best, doesn’t he?” you snickered, and upon feeling her soft touch lingering on your shoulder blade, your smile dulled a little.

“Does the wound still hurt?” Ruka asked. “With the humidity - “

“Please don’t worry,” you hastily replied, angling yourself to the side until the touch fell away. “It’s been months, Ruka. The wound is fully healed.” She cocked a brow at you, and you placed a hand over hers as you softened your voice. “Really. I’m alright.”

She eyed you silently. “ … if you say so.”

You offered a placating smile to seal the deal. “So, how did you find out about the inevitable proposal?”

“Between Shinjuro’s loud mouth and the gossip that goes on among the Demon Slayers, it was inevitable that the old women of the safehouses would hear about this.” She shook her head. “My own grandmother ruined the surprise.”

“At least you can look forward to how painfully awkward Rengoku-san will be when the time comes.”

Ruka scoffed. “I am always prepared to handle that silly man.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you giggled. “Your stern looks trip him up sometimes. So cruel!”

Not even your newly acquired lightning-fast reflexes could dodge Ruka’s smack upside your head.

———————❖———————

Warm greetings, Haganezuka-san. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I will be visiting your village in four days. Would you mind looking over my blade to make sure it is in proper condition?

———————❖———————

You can come.

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #haganezuka hotaru #hotaru haganezuka #haganezuka x reader #haganezuka/reader

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lochrannn · 3 years

Text

AU_gust: Chefs n’ Gangs

Read on AO3

CW: Canon-typical violence, implied sexual content

Prompt no 31: Any two of the above

Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Lila Pitts

Characters: Diego Hargreeves, Lila Pitts

Diego was enjoying himself at Les Parapluies.

He hadn’t really done a lot of cooking in years, but when he was a kid and managed to sneak into the kitchen while Mom was preparing their meals, he'd loved it when she had tied an apron around his neck and had given him jobs to do. At first it had been the fact that he got to spend time with Mom, who was kind, and didn’t mind that he didn’t feel like speaking a lot of the time, and would ruffle his hair when she had a free moment, hands always unnaturally cool, but Diego never minded.

But after a while he had really enjoyed the work in the kitchen. In hindsight he thought it was because it gave him something else to do with knives that wasn’t brutal or destructive, but it was methodical and organized and he could set out a clear plan and follow it. At a time when he never got the validation from his father that he so desperately craved, the simple act of following a recipe and creating a meal, or baking a cake, gave him at least a certain sense of gratification.

Proof that he was good at something.

So even though he’d initially been a little reluctant to take the job, he also felt a tiny bit melancholy because this would end soon.

He was just bringing a consomé to simmer when Larry stepped up to him and whispered in his ear, “The boss wants to see you!”

Diego slightly ruefully turned off his burner, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be coming back to finish the job, and abandoned his station to follow Larry out of the kitchen and into the back of a car that was parked in the alley.

Restaurants were still places where a lot of cash would pass through and for that reason they made a perfect front for money laundering, and if, as was the case with Les Parapluies, it was very popular, it also made very good business for an enterprising criminal.

That was why Diego was here, to meet the head of this particular crime syndicate

It had taken him almost a week to convince Larry, the part time restaurant manager, part time mid level gangster, that he could be of use to the organization and seeded the idea in Larry to take him to his boss for an audience.

The head honcho was an elusive character with exceptionally good security, so Diego had figured the only way to get to him would be with an invitation.

He already knew where they were headed, but was privately entertained all the same that despite the boss’s better than average security, he was perfectly cliché in his choice of headquarters: an abandoned warehouse by the harbour.

A few of the mobsters were hanging around outside when they arrived and before they let him enter, a small woman with choppy black hair and wearing a very crisp black suit that made her stand out completely amongst the burly men, who were dressed mostly in button-downs or sweatshirts, stepped up to him and started patting him down.

He stared at her while she began by squeezing his arms far more thoroughly than anyone could possibly deem necessary. What did she think he was hiding? She’d have felt a gun or a knife if she’d simply brushed along his sleeve.

Then she dragged her hands across his chest and torso with an impassive expression, eyes hidden behind a pair of black shades.

Diego was more or less resigned to his fate when she bent down and squeezed his legs just as thoroughly as she had his arms, but he startled and just about managed to suppress a yelp when she checked his waistband at his back… by reaching up through his legs from the front.

“That’s enough, Gill, I think he’s clean!” one of the mobsters said and so the woman who had overenthusiastically searched him, stood up again, straightened her clothes, gave him a curt nod, and was instructed to hang back when the rest of them all made their way into the warehouse.

Diego was led through the building, which was filled with what must have been contraband and at one end he could see what looked like a lab set up, and out of habit he clocked the more than half dozen other gangsters who were milling about inside, all of them clearly quite heavily armed. But, according to the plan, they weren’t his to take care of, so he focused instead on what lay ahead.

He was walked into the small back office by the four mobsters who had brought him in on arrival and they fanned out in the room while Diego waited across from a large metal desk for the skinny, middle aged man, who was adding numbers in a large, leather-bound ledger, to take notice of him. He knew instantly that this was their target from the picture he’d been given.

When the man looked up at him, his eyes widened and he pushed back his rolling office chair to jump to his feet and shout, “Diego fucking Hargreeves?! What the fuck! Did the Commission send you??” and he drew his gun.

Diego was too taken aback by being recognized so quickly to formulate a plan, when the other gang members also pulled their guns and in the sudden panicked atmosphere somebody started shooting, setting everybody else off as well.

He was just about able to dart back, throwing his hands up over his head reflexively and then he remembered what he was capable of, concentrated on sensing the path of the bullets closest to him, and deflected them away from him, so he could get out of this shootout unscathed.

When there was no more sound other than the ringing in his ears, Diego opened his eyes, heart racing, and took stock of the situation in the room.

In the chaos that had ensued, it seemed that their target had been caught in the crossfire. Blood was seeping out of the bullet hole in his forehead and Diego turned away quickly when he spotted it, because the last thing he needed to see was whatever was left of the back of his head.

“You ok?” came a voice from the door and Diego turned around to look at Lila, who was picking her way across the floor towards him, trying to avoid stepping on any of the dead gang members strewn across the rough concrete. She was still wearing her sunglasses, but he could see from her rumpled suit jacket that she must have run towards the office when the shooting had started.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine!” Diego said, taking one last steadying breath to try and get the feeling of adrenaline pumping through his veins to dissipate. Lila, who had got to him now, reached out to lay a hand on the side of his shoulder. That also helped to relax him.

“What a shitshow!” Diego sighed and Lila squeezed his arm before letting go and pulling a small device out of her pants pocket.

“Yeah, this isn’t ideal,” she said as she hopped over to where the mob boss was sitting, dead, behind his desk and affixed the temporal tracking device to the back of his neck.

Diego turned away again after watching her for only a moment, when he remembered what he was in danger of catching a glimpse of.

“But he’s not our problem anymore, now!” Lila said with a shrug as she made her way back to him, “Herb’ll send someone to deal with this. At least it means we don’t have to spend another night in that shitty little motel room. Say what you will about the Handler, at least she knew how to splash out on a nice hotel. Herb is so stingy!”

Lila had grabbed his hand and Diego let himself be pulled along to the warehouse exit as Lila was chatting away. He only barely took notice of the unconscious men who she had clearly taken out, stealthily, while he had been led to the boss.

This was why he agreed to occasionally go on missions for Herb. Yeah sure, it gave him the same sense of purpose that being a vigilante had given him, but mostly he just enjoyed going on these adventures with Lila.

It wasn’t that their life together had become boring. On the contrary, Diego loved the domesticity of living with Lila, sharing the responsibility of making their everyday lives work, but neither of them had had a particularly normal upbringing, and sometimes they just craved a bit of unusual excitement. And if they could experience that together, even better.

“So, are you going to keep that silly jacket, or...?” Lila asked as they were weaving their way through the structures on the waterfront.

“Why, d’you not like it? I think I look pretty snazzy! And it did make you get all handsy!” Diego countered with a grin and he pulled his hand out of Lila’s to put his arm around her instead and pull her against himself as they walked along, remembering the way she’d definitely made him feel uncomfortable in the most delicious kind of way.

“Oh don’t flatter yourself, I was just doing a thorough job to protect my cover!” Lila shot back but didn’t pull away and then squealed when Diego very suddenly shoved her up against the brick wall they were just passing, pinning her against it with his body, and holding onto her wrists behind her back.

“Yeah, but you almost blew mine!” he growled, looking down at her wide grin and shining eyes.

Lila arched off the wall and slid her body up along his to get to his ear so she could whisper, “I’m definitely going to blow something, alright!” in a low voice.

“Fuck!” Diego breathed and he was almost ashamed to admit that it probably sounded very close to a moan, and he turned his head to catch her lips with his own.

They didn’t even start soft and gentle, instead teeth and tongues were immediately involved and Diego let go of Lila’s wrist so she could wrap her arms around him and he could support her against the wall, while their kisses became increadingly heated.

When he ducked his head and started biting and sucking on the spot on her neck just below her jaw, Lila gasped, then laughed breathlessly, and then breathed, with a surprising amount of sarcasm considering her frazzled state, “Oh yeeees, Chef!”

Diego grunted and his hands on her waist tightened and Lila laughed out loud and said, “Oh my god, you’re into that!”

“Shut up!” Diego growled again and made sure she would, by sealing her lips with his.

But somehow Lila managed to continue giggling, while also loosening the buttons on his chef’s jacket and getting her hands underneath his undershirt and on his bare skin.

Distracted by her fingers he let her pull her mouth from his and make her way back to his ear to continue her taunting with amusement in her voice.

“Oh please, Chef, won’t you want to make things all hot and steamy? Leave searing kisses on my skin? Cook up some coq au vin for me?”

That finally severed the last bit of his patience and Diego pushed off from the wall and away from Lila and grumbled, “Fuck you! You’re the fucking worst!”

But the way she was looking back at him, pants suit all askew, the skin on her neck and the top of her chest where Diego had already half unbuttoned her shirt, flushed, and her chest heaving with deep breaths, a shit eating grin on her face, he almost went straight back in, fully prepared to ignore her nonsense.

But then he remembered where they were and that it would probably be unwise to fuck her up against a brick wall only a couple of hundred yards away from a crime scene that was definitely going to be discovered soon.

So, reluctantly, Diego started to right his own jacket and regretfully watched Lila do the same with her clothes after he explained, “We really should get out of here, the cops are gonna show up any minute!”

But of course the fact that they weren’t all over each other anymore, didn’t stop Lila from teasing him mercilessly about his response to her calling him Chef all the way back to their motel and Diego, with no small measure of embarrassment, had to admit to himself if not to her, that it really was kind of doing it for him.

So by the time they got back to their room, he was definitely experiencing multiple levels of frustration and he knew that Lila could sense his irritation and was deliberately riling him even more.

And for the love of him he couldn’t honestly say he wanted her to stop.

Or at least not of her own accord. Diego knew they’d both enjoy it far more if he made her.

So as they stepped into the room, Lila whirled around, startling when Diego slammed the door shut behind him and didn’t leave her any time to react as he crouched down, lifted her up with one arm wrapped around the back of her thighs, and tossed her onto the bed with a satisfying thud from the mattress and a surprised squeak from Lila.

Diego held himself back, waiting for Lila to meet his eyes and he watched with satisfaction as her grin slowly faded and he could recognize the light in her eyes change from amused to borderline hungry. He presumed she found a similar expression on his face.

Lila swallowed hard and said, voice already a little tense, “So what are you going to do now, Chef?”

Diego got on the bed, walking up to Lila on his knees and gently stroked his hands up her calves.

“I’m gonna give you a new appreciation for shitty little motel rooms!” he said in an almost dangerous voice, grabbed her by the back of the knees and yanked, making her fall back against the mattress. Then he wrapped her legs around his hips, and wasted no time in covering her body with his, savouring the sound of her sighing into his mouth when he started taunting her right back with his tongue and hips simultaneously.

#au_gust_2021 #fanfic #tua #the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #dielila #diego x lila #diego/lila #lochrannn lxd au challenge

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iridescent-hallucinations · 4 years

Text

A freshly baked love story

December prompt day 7: Baking sweet treats

Summary: JJ and Emily spend a quiet evening in together

Pairing: Jennifer “JJ” Jareau x Emily Prentiss

Word Count: 1755

Read it on AO3

One dreary Thursday evening in December, on a rare day off without the kids, Emily and JJ found themselves enjoying a quiet night in. Both of them had worked a long week, only coming back from a particularly gruelling case the night before. Sandy had offered to keep the boys for an extra night to allow the two agents to recuperate and spend some much needed quality time together.

Deciding on ordering food rather than cooking, the two had spent the last hour eating in silence, engrossed in the latest episode of The Great British Bake Off, a guilty pleasure of theirs. As the episode drew to a close JJ raised her head from its resting place on Emily’s chest and gently sat up, ignoring the quiet aches coming from her worn out muscles. Emily unhooked her arm from behind JJ’s back, giving her room to sit up more fully.

Grumbling at the loss of contact, Emily turned to face JJ - a raised eyebrow questioning why they weren’t still cuddling.

“I have an idea,” JJ began, drawing out the words so they came out as a melody, “let’s try baking some Christmas cookies of our own”. Her eyes lit up at the idea, as she brought her bottom lip between her teeth to bite down gently in anticipation of a response, and despite Emily being less than enthusiastic at the suggestion, who was she to argue with her wife when she looked so damn adorable?

Emily rolled her eyes, but JJ could see the smile tugging at the corner of her lips, threatening to give her away.

"Alright, I suppose we can do that. Do we have all the ingredients?” Emily asked, grabbing her phone off the coffee table. JJ was already half way to the kitchen, clearly more than a little excited.

“Yeah, we should do, it sounds pretty easy... and if it goes well we can decorate them with the boys tomorrow” JJ replied to the other woman over her shoulder, remembering most of the recipe from the show they’d just been watching.

Emily read out the list of ingredients whilst simultaneously pulling out baking trays and mixing bowls.

After messing around in the cupboards, JJ finally stepped back from the counter top, clearly pleased with her efforts.

“There, that’s everything we need” she said, turning round to see where her wife was, eagerly awaiting her assistance.

“Great, you get the dough started, I’ll prep the baking tray” Emily stated, allowing herself to smile brightly at the sight of JJ enthusiastically smashing a bar of cooking chocolate.

Less than 15 minutes later, the two had prepared a pretty decent looking sheet of cookie dough. They didn’t have any cookie cutters to hand, but Emily had a stroke of genius, running into the kitchen with Michael’s Play Doh cutters held proudly above her head.

“We can use these! There’s not a Christmas tree shape, but we could make little cookie people with the silhouette cutters... and there’s a star!” Forgetting her lack of enthusiasm, Emily was clearly very excited, and JJ couldn’t help but laugh at the brunette’s exclamations.

“Great idea babe” JJ replied, beginning to make light work of cutting the shapes into the rolled out dough.

Eventually, on the tray were two cookie women shapes, 2 cookie men shapes - to represent their little family - a scattering of stars, and enough dough to make one or two more shapes.

Emily fumbled around with the little plastic cutters, searching for the right one. JJ watched her with curiosity, unsure as to what her wife intended to do with the remaining dough.

“Aha!” Emily exclaimed, holding the red heart shaped cutter she’d been searching for.

She cut two heart shapes into the dough and placed them alongside the rest of the unbaked cookies that were ready to take their nap in the oven.

“There.” Emily began, closing the oven on their sweet treats. “In about 15 minutes we’re gonna have the best cookies you’ve ever tasted” she stated, matter of factly.

Grinning at the brunette, JJ swayed over to her, wrapping her arms around the older woman’s hips, pulling them flush to her own.

Pressing a sound kiss to Emily’s lips, she couldn’t help it when a soft moan slipped out. Feeling strong arms come to rest at the back of her neck, JJ took a moment to just appreciate where they were. How far they’d come.

Breaking apart, JJ turned to start washing up, leaving a mildly flustered, but thoroughly happy Emily to watch as she walked over to the sink. Unable to help herself, the older woman reached out for her phone, snapping a quick photo of the blonde, who was minding her own business at the sink.

JJ often heard Emily taking photos of her, she didn’t entirely understand why her wife enjoyed taking photos of her in such mundane situations, but it did cause her stomach to clench knowing Emily felt these silly little moments were worth documenting.

Feeling arms snake around her waist, JJ was pulled from her thoughts, grounded in the reality that was Emily’s warmth. As she continued to wash the mixing bowl, the brunette began peppering her neck and shoulders with light, lazy kisses. The sensation was beautiful, totally intoxicating, causing JJ’s head to lull backwards, falling onto Emily’s shoulder and allowing her further access to her neck, collar bones and shoulders.

Washing up forgotten, JJ suddenly longed to look into her wife’s deep brown eyes. Turning in her arms, she sighed contentedly, feeling so safe, so grounded in her lover’s embrace. Leaning in to close the gap between them, JJ gently kissed Emily’s lips, she still, after all these years, couldn’t get over the way her lips tingled when they connected with Emily’s.

The kisses didn’t stop, each woman unable to get enough of the sensations created as they stood, pressed against the sink, making out like horny teenager. Just as the older woman’s arms came to pull JJ’s hips closer, intensifying the kiss, and eliciting a hungry moan from the blonde, a shrill noise startled them.

Leaning back, Emily brushed her nose against JJ’s, letting her eyelids flutter shut so she could compose herself.

“Looks like our cookies are done,” Emily whispered against JJ’s face.

JJ groaned at the loss of contact as Emily peeled herself away to put their Christmas themed oven gloves, the ones that had little reindeers all over them, on.

The oven door opened, immediately allowing the sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies to escape and flood the air of the kitchen. It smelled divine, and both women basked for a moment in their domesticated glory.

Emily gently placed the tray on the kitchen counter, smiling down at their little Christmas creations. The cookie people had sort of warped in the oven, but they had a certain charm to them and Emily knew when Henry and Michael decorated them, they’d look perfect.

The stars had worked really well, each one a beautiful golden brown with five points all totally distinguishable despite their plastic cutters. JJ admired their work with her hands on her hips and her head tilted to the side.

“What d’ya think? They look pretty good to me.” Emily said, tilting her head to match JJ’s.

“I just hope they taste as good as they look... and smell... Em, I know we just ate but they’re making me hungry.” JJ answered, with a pretend frown.

Emily laughed, gently touching a cookie to test the temperature. Once she knew they weren’t going to burn her fingers, she began carefully transferring the various shapes onto the wire cooling wrack, knowing the cookies had to cool completely to set their shapes. Something she learnt from great British Bake Off judge Paul Hollywood.

As she continued to pick up each cookie, taking great care, Emily couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips. It spurred her on, and before she knew it she was in the midst of a giggle fit.

“What’s so funny?” JJ asked, unable to stop herself from catching Emily’s giggles, it was contagious.

“I was just thinking about how it’s good our cookies don’t have soggy bottoms, you know, the judges on the Great British Bake Off judges would be proud of us” she managed between laughs.

“You don’t have a soggy bottom either babe” JJ laughed, enjoying their shared inside joke.

“Neither do you, your bottom is beautiful,” the older woman added, taking a jagged breath to calm her laughter down.

The final cookie was placed next to its siblings on the tray, and the women shared a knowing glance. Emily picked up one of the heart shaped cookies and held it out to her wife.

“Wanna take the first bite?” She offered, moving closer so JJ could take the treat from her hand.

JJ nodded in response, leaning forwards to tentatively bite into the warm cookie, not bothering to remove it from her wife’s hand.

It was still soft in the centre, and JJ moaned out her approval as she stood, chewing on the delicious goodness they’d created together.

“Yeah, they’re good,” she offered with her mouth still full.

Emily took a bite of her own, also making approving noises. She had never really baked before, no one had ever taught her how, but with JJ she was able to do so many things she’d never done before, she was able to grow as a person and live a life she never would have dared to dream of in her younger years.

“Just as I suspected, the best Christmas cookie I’ve ever tried, I can’t wait for the boys to come home so we can decorate them together.” Emily said, with an honest to god smile plastered over her face.

Putting the half eaten cookie down, Emily once again drew JJ into her embrace by pulling her hips towards her own.

“I love you Jayje. So much.”

“I love you too Em, so much.”

They shared a simple kiss. Simple in the way it felt so right, so natural, simple in the way it held promises of forever.

As they separated, Emily reached up to caress JJ’s cheek, watching her blue eyes reflect the depth of their commitment back into her own brown ones.

“I know something that would taste better than cookies right now” Emily said, lowering her voice and waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Slapping her wife’s arm and gasping with feigned disgust, JJ laughed before replying, “well I did say I was getting hungry again...”

#criminal minds #jemily #emily prentiss #Jennifer Jareau #jj x emily #jemily fic #i wrote a thing #amelia's december prompt challenge #day 7 #baking sweet treats #fluff #just two women in love #my fic

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