#I know i'm in a writing mood | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-modern-typewriter · 9 months

Note

Hi! Can you do a villain x villain?

"Is that a wedding ring?" It came out, just the teensiest bit, strangled.

"Last bit of your outfit for tonight. Put it on."

The protagonist stared at the villain for a moment, searching for the trap. It probably wouldn't actually kill them, but with them it was impossible to be entirely sure. The other's expression gave away nothing. They weren't even looking back - more preoccupied with tapping away at something on their phone.

"Uh..."

They got an eyebrow raise in response. A delicate warning.

So, the protagonist padded over to the small black box sitting open on their kitchen table. It was next to the villain. Close enough that they couldn't keep the table between the two of them, at least not without making a thing about it.

The villain smelled like their expensive soap. Spicy. Warm.

The protagonist swallowed, heart stuttering.

"Funny sort of proposal," the protagonist managed. "Even for you."

"No one's threatened by newlyweds. It's the perfect cover."

Right. Of course it wasn't an actual proposal. That would be...well. Probably apocalyptic, but the protagonist's stomach did give a stupid little squeeze at the thought. The bastard no doubt knew.

The ring fit perfectly.

When they glanced at the villain again, the other's gaze was already on them, assessing. It lit the protagonist up, like their every nerve ending was mapped out on some special spectrum that only the other villain could see.

The protagonist exhaled a shaky breath. "You're going to owe me big time for this."

"You'll get your share of the profits. You always do, don't you?"

They had worked together on a number of big jobs over the years. The other villain always had the most insane and most lucrative plans. Brilliant.

The protagonist was pretty sure they'd been in love with the bastard from nearly the moment they met.

The villain held out a hand. A matching ring sparkled in the evening light.

When the protagonist stared at them, helplessly, dumbly, the villain clicked their tongue.

"Oh." The protagonist took the offered hand, and the villain promptly reeled them in, so they stood between the villain's legs. They could feel the heat of them radiating from their skin, they were so close.

The protagonist felt a little dizzy.

"You'll need to be quicker on the upkeep, lover, if we're going to pull this off," the other villain murmured. They squeezed the protagonist's fingers hard enough to hurt. "If anyone suspects anything, we're done for. Breathe."

The protagonist breathed out, slow, steadying.

"And sit," the villain said.

The other chair was on the other side of the table. Did the villain mean -?

Another impatient tongue-click.

The protagonist sat themselves on the villain's lap. They felt hyperaware of every inch of contact between them. "This is - um -"

"Uncomfortable?" The villain's smile was wicked. "You don't want to be my false lover, baby?"

The protagonist gritted their teeth, refusing to give the villain the sadistic delight of seeing them flush. "You're a bit like a cat, is all," the protagonist said. "Never sure, if I touch you, if you're going to be sweet or if you're going to claw my hand off."

"More fun that way," the villain purred.

Well, it certainly kept things interesting. There was probably something wrong with the protagonist.

Still studying them, the villain brought the protagonist's hand up to their lips, pressing a kiss to their knuckles.

The reaction was instant and visceral.

The protagonist closed their eyes. They felt hot and flustered all over.

Why were they so incapable of being cool and intimidating around the one person they wanted to be cool for?

The villain chuckled. "Yeah, I think you're going to do just fine. If you pass out, it won't be terror. Will it, love?"

"That's why you wanted me for this collab? My-" They stopped short of saying feelings for you. Ludicrous thing to admit aloud, even if they both knew. Especially them.

"One of them."

"The other being my sparkling competence, naturally."

"Naturally."

The villain's hands rose, moving to fix the protagonist's tie with one hand. They knotted it just a fraction too tight, even as their movements stayed leisurely. The protagonist could feel it when they swallowed.

The protagonist kept waiting for their body to relax. To not be on edge just sharing the same air space.

It didn't happen.

The villain was smiling. They gave the tie a little tug, so their lips could brush along the protagonist's jaw line.

"Exposure therapy?" the protagonist asked. "So I'm more natural later?"

"Mm." There was a hum of approval in the other villain's voice. It shouldn't have meant as much as it did.

"Am I allowed to touch you?"

"You can always try it and see how sweet I am."

"You're impossible." It came out a huff, but not without affection. Never. They tentatively settled their hands on the other villain's shoulders.

"Of course you can touch me," the villain said. "You're my beloved spouse. We're besotted. Disgustingly affectionate. No one wants to look at us for longer than three seconds before they want to puke rainbows."

"This is your version of puking rainbows?"

The villain gave the tie a sharp tug for that.

The protagonist had to laugh and, with the laugh, some of the tension faded from them. "Don't worry, I'll teach you."

"Will you."

"Mm. You say nice things and call each other by saccharine nicknames."

"Gross."

The protagonist grinned. "Your idea, boss."

The villain was quiet for a beat, settling back in their chair, considering the protagonist again for a beat. Musing.

"We should go," the protagonist said. "We'll be late."

"Late is believable. We're newlyweds. Easily distracted."

The villain was, admittedly, very distracting beneath them. But that was hardly the point.

The villain was still staring.

"You picked the clothes," the protagonist said. "You can't tell me to change."

"I don't want you to change. Not ever."

The protagonist's throat tightened, mouth dry. "There we go," they said softly. "Puking rainbows."

The evening was going to be exquisitely unbearable.

#villain x villain #story #writing #ficlet #villains #villain #undercover #i don't know I'm on an undercover mood atm #creative writing #fiction

615 notes · View notes

edgeray · 2 months

Text

Arlecchino is a cold person.

(Arlecchino x Reader Blurb)

It's no suprise to anyone. It is simply an objective fact of the matter. She is aware of this. The House of the Hearth is aware of this. The Fatui are aware of this. It's ironic given the nature of her vision, but it nonetheless rings true despite the fire she possesses on her blackened fingertips. She is callous and curt, and underneath her skin there is nothing except frigid ice that envelopes her being like a fitted coat. She speaks with no warmth, acts with the absence of heat, exists in a constant state of cold emptiness--a state in which there is a void inside of her, as if sucking all that is human of her.

Years ago, when she was just a child of the same orphanage she headed, she had naive thoughts of finding companionship, someone who would provide the warmth she sought on lonesome nights. She was barely just an adolescent who dreamed of lying in someone's arms, feel the heartbeat of another so surely, it would remind her that she was indeed alive. For even the briefest of moments, she yearned for someone who would, if not shield, then distract her from the cruelties of this world. She had shed those foolish wishes aside. In the House of the Heart that she was raised in, such notions were admonished, in fact, the wishful thinking was one of the reasons she had nearly lost her life. Never again, she had promised to herself, when she mercilessly beat the backstabber. It was then that she believed when the time came, her tale would end the same way as it began for her: alone. As the years of being a Fatui, then becoming a Fatui Harbinger, hardened her, there was comfort in that view.

That is what she believed in. Until you came.

Iciness wraps her being. It is present in her expression, in her words, in her touch. But that is exactly why she finds solace in your being. Her vision could only grant her a synthetic flame, but, you, you're an everlasting hearth. She melts in your embrace every time she slots herself in your arms, as it feels like a kindling ignited in her heart. It is only with you, that she learns how warmth can be found in.

Arlecchino is a cold person.

It is why you, as a warm one, is perfect for her. You whisk away the most depraved thoughts, ease her of any emotional and mental turmoil, and you do not treat her with the same coldness as the world seems so fond of doing to her. You are her flame, the one that sparks her being and reminds her that she is alive because her heart beats with you, beats for you.

Except you are cold now. It is unfathomable to her how you can be this way when your entire being exists to warm her, but when she touches your skin, you are unbearably frozen. Your body does not tremble like it does when her clawed fingers ever so gently trace your skin. The corner of your lips doesn't quirk up into the usual small smile of yours when she appears in your sight, but they remain ever rigid like the rest of you. Uncharacteristically, your expression doesn't soften with her presence.

You are cold, just like her. And that makes her afraid. Her hand searches for it, prodding your skin for a familiar thumping that is nowhere to be found. You continue to stare at her, unblinking. Here would be the moment where you give her a beaming smirk and you'd cup her face tenderly as if she was glass. And she would let you, because you are her beloved, who has watched her shatter so many times before and wordlessly each shard back together, and it is for that reason that she would lean closer towards your touch.

Because you lie broken in her arms and her hands are stained again with the familiar color of red. Your eyes are glossy and gaze unblinkingly at her. Frozen. Even when you are covered in your blood, you are beautiful, she notes, but oh, so cold that it makes her doubt if you were warm to begin with.

She misses your warmth. Where has it gone? Or has it died along with you?

Her hearth is gone. And as she clings onto your form, her body wracking with a fear and desperation she's never known before, two revelations come to her: that there is no such thing as an everlasting fire, and even after so many years ago, she was right along.

Arlecchino is a cold person. And she will remain always cold.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #i wrote this instead of writing the actual oneshot I was planning to publish on Wednesday #whoops #i was in a little angsty mood 🥰#that's mbad #if it comforts you the next oneshot is pretty wholesome #surprisingly whipped this up in like... an hour or so #is this my usual quality? no but #this was kinda fun #i haven't written angst in a while so this was good outlet #did you guys know I'm primarily an angst writer? :) because I am #and you will see that in the future #edgeray.blog #edgeray.writes

149 notes · View notes

osamusriceballs · 9 months

Text

Last-Minute Plans

Ushijima x fem reader

Warnings: NSFW (cockwarming, rather soft)

Words: ~ 1,5 k

About: Wakatoshi got a ring for you, and he needs to make sure it fits.

A/n: Happy Birthday to our beloved Wakatoshi-kun~

"It fits,"

he mumbles with a sigh of relief, one he hadn't realized he was holding. He looks contently at the jewelry now adorning your ring finger.

Ushijima knows that he's late with this. He should have attempted this plan a long time ago; he despises last-minute actions. Lately, however, you've insisted on waiting until he returns home late from practice due to extended training sessions just before the crucial match, making it impossible for him to secretly slip that ring onto your finger to see if it fits. He's aware he hasn't been giving you the time you deserve lately, but he's determined to make it up as soon as he can. He intends to spoil you as soon as the match is over and his schedule finally allows him to have more free time, treating you like the princess you are.

He had nearly abandoned the idea of trying the ring on your finger. He considered simply hoping for the best, planning to alter the ring quickly after proposing if it didn't fit. He knows you wouldn't have minded, but he wanted this moment to be perfect. The first difficulty he had encountered, however, was that you had rings in various sizes in your jewelry box- probably for different fingers, but even after sorting through them, he was still not convinced that he chose the right size.

Relief washes over him as he sees the ring fitting comfortably, and for a short moment, he envisions your future together. He dreams of having you sleep beside him every night, of going on the vacation you've always dreamed of, and of giving you the beautiful wedding ceremony you've always wanted. He's already asked Tendou to be his best man and informed his parents of his plans. He even decided to send his father a notice that his son will be getting married soon—hopefully.

The ring looks stunning on your hand. It's noticeable yet subtly elegant. He's confident you'll love it; you've often praised his taste, describing him as simple in his choices, which you adore.

His gaze drifts to your peaceful sleeping form. You must be exhausted not to have woken up yet. Normally, you'd wait until he returns or awaken when he quietly lies down beside you, an act he's yet to master. You'd always greet him with a tender kiss, a gesture he cherishes most during his days and misses the most when he's away. Yet, you sleep soundly, your face soft, breathing steady. You're wearing one of his shirts, the old Shiratorizawa jersey you claim is the comfiest—adorable on you, he agrees.

He's fairly certain you're wearing only flimsy panties beneath, but he'll take his sweet time tomorrow to explore every inch of your body.

"Toshi," your sleepy voice pulls him from his daydreams, and he quickly hides the ring, clutching your hand in his. You stir, turning towards him, brows furrowing as you reach out blindly.

"Y/n, go back to sleep. It's late," he murmurs in a soothing tone, knowing you find his voice calming.

"I missed you," you groan, squinting your eyes as you try to make out his face in the dimly lit room.

"I missed you too," he replies, smiling softly and leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. You smile in return, bringing your free hand to his cheek, a bit clumsily—almost slapping his face, but he doesn't mind; he is simply happy having you close.

"You haven't shaved today," you mumble as you caress his cheek. He hums in response. "I forgot. Does it bother you?"

"No, it doesn't. But you never forget to shave. What was on your mind today?"

You, he thinks, but for once, he refrains from sharing his thoughts. He needs to distract you, to take back the ring unnoticed. How you haven't noticed it so far surprises him.

"I was thinking about…" he begins, his voice trailing off, unsure how to respond without you getting suspicious.

"Wakatoshi, come to bed. You seem really tired," you yawn, and he suddenly knows what he needs to do.

Ushijima leans down to kiss you again, this time deepening the kiss with more passion. He feels your response, your body arching into his touch, your lips moving in sync with his.

"Toshi," you're already breathless after a few kisses, and he finally feels your hand relax, fingers intertwining with his with the metal still on your finger. He typically holds your hand more firmly, but now he keeps his grip gentle, ensuring you don't feel the ring on your finger. With his free hand, he traces the hem of your shirt, his fingers gliding beneath the fabric, encountering the softness of your skin.

"Want you, but I'm tired," you whisper against his lips, prompting him to nuzzle against your neck. "Should I pleasure you? Should I make you feel full?" You moan softly and weakly nod, your eyes barely open in the dark room. Unbeknownst to you, a wave of relief washes over him. This may not be going exactly as he planned, but making love to you with the ring already on your finger is better than he could have imagined.

He quickly runs through potential scenarios in which he could smoothly slide the ring off your finger, deciding to position himself behind you while maintaining a hold on your hand in front of your body. Shifting his body weight, he maneuvers behind you until his chest presses against your back. He skillfully settles beneath the blanket without releasing your hand, making sure not to tighten his grip around your fingers. His lips find your neck, where he places the gentlest kisses against your skin, earning the softest, most beautiful moans from your lips. His hips begin to rhythmically move against your backside, and he feels how he hardens in his pants.

You contently hum while you lean into his touch, raising one leg to allow him to slip his thigh between yours. "Feels good," you murmur as he starts a grinding motion against your pussy. He feels his growing need, a nearly instinctive response to your body. His earlier suspicion about you wearing only his shirt and panties appears accurate; that much he notices when his shorts ride up and his bare thigh grinds against your cunt. As much as he wants the feeling of your bare skin against his, he knows that undressing might raise too much suspicion. Instead, he guides his free hand downward, gently tracing circles against your clothed center.

"You're so perfect. So beautiful. I love you so much," he whispers into your ear, causing you to shudder in his arms. Your grip on his hand tightens, while your other hand softly clutches the sheets. He understands your needs. Grateful that he's still wearing the soft shorts, he pushes them down slightly, quickly freeing his cock.

"Should I use some lube?" he asks, concern lacing his voice, worried about hurting you since he hasn't fully prepared you yet—a truly challenging task when ensuring your hand remains held and he can only use one hand properly.

"Think I'm wet enough," you mumble, and he dips two fingers between your folds to confirm, and he is rewarded with enough arousal to forget about his worries.

As much as he wants to ravish you right now, he knows you would probably drift off to sleep if he makes love to you tenderly—so that's precisely what he does. He gently spreads your legs further with his thigh, allowing his cock to rest between your legs. It has almost become a routine for him to set aside your panties and gradually ease his cock inside you- a practice that you often do after he comes home late from his practice sessions.

A breathy moan escapes your lips at the stretch, and he feels his own body tensing at the sensation of your soft walls around him. He continues to push until he's fully inside of you. You always take him so well—it feels breathtaking to be buried deep inside you. He still hopes you'll succumb to sleep in this embrace, even though he's surely wide awake himself.

"Feels good," you hum, your breathing gradually returning to a steady rhythm. He pulls you closer, inhaling the soothing flowery scent of your hair- a scent that always brings him comfort and calms his mind when he can't seem to rest. You might not fully grasp how much he loves you—how every fiber of his being yearns for you, how he wishes for you to be happy and to be his. This is precisely why he plans to propose to you tomorrow and to place the ring back on your finger. You wouldn't refuse him on his birthday, would you?

"Sleep well, my love."

512 notes · View notes

temeyes · 10 months

Text

i'm a shadow, i am cold and now i seek for warmth

409 notes · View notes

cerise-on-top · 18 days

Note

hi :D if you do character x character (with possibly x reader, too) headcanons, may i request nikprice hcs? aghh.. i love them so much, but there's (in my opinion) little content of them compared to other ships.. if you do have to add reader into it too thats okay :) i don't mind poly (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

but besides that how are you doing? i hope youre doing good :]

Hey there! I'm doing well, thank you! I've actually got five days off next week, which I'm really looking forward to! Plus I get to go to my regular department again too soon enough! But unfortunately, the other apprentice left me with so much work ^^;

NikPrice and NikPrice x Reader

NikPrice:

Although the two of them may be a bit older than some of their peers, they can still be considered idiots, especially when they’re with one another. Sometimes they get weirdly competitive with each other, which can result in either of them getting hurt. Nikolai leads Chimera and Price leads the TF141, both of them sometimes need to show off just how good they are at some things. Nikolai is usually a pretty calm guy, but he does get a bit cocky with Price, so he’ll instigate some competitions. Who can carry the most groceries. Who can find the most dogs and take pictures with them. Who will be favored the most for the week among their boys. It’s just dumb things, and Nikolai does try to cheat his way through most of them, but Price knows him well enough by now to know how he will try to weasel his way into victory. Price usually plays fair and forces Nikolai to do the same. The winner gets bragging rights and that’s about it. Sometimes they poker on who pays for dinner, but they don’t really mess around too much when it comes to more serious stuff. However, they both also compete with each other to show off just how good of a partner they are, even if there’s no need to do that anymore. They can both be proud as peacocks and always need to outdo one another.

Although it may sound stupid, the two of them do spar with each other from time to time. Since they’re about equal in strength it’s actually quite interesting to watch the two of them fight, both have a pretty good technique as well. However, Nikolai has more experience under his belt since he’s quite a bit older than Price. Again, he’s also not above cheating by trying to entice Price with just about anything he can think of. They’re adults, they’re leaders, but they are still morons with each other. Sometimes they fight over the TV remote when Price wants to watch his football game and Nikolai wants to tease him. Price gets mad every time he misses the football game just because he lost to his stupid lover. Nikolai gets a good laugh out of it every time. Although he may love Price more than anyone else, he can be a playful and cocky bastard at times. He makes up for it by taking Price to a real football game in a stadium, though. Can’t enrage the boyfriend too much all the time. Price is usually overjoyed when he does since he gets really into it. There’s nothing better than enjoying some football with Nikolai. Unless Nikolai teases Price about his team losing. In that case the two of them won’t be talking more than necessary for an hour. However, Price goes back to normal after the initial anger of his team losing has worn off.

Nikolai is actually a chef of the master class. He can cook just about anything and make it well at that too. Since he’s been pretty much everywhere at this point he’s learned quite a few recipes from all around the world. He also knows how to use his spices well. Though, his favorite recipes to make are still Russian ones. The two of them cook together often, it relaxes them. Besides, Price gets the privilege of eating Nikolai’s pirozhki before anyone else does. It’s an honor to him since he’s never had anything better in his life. Loves being Nikolai’s taste tester as well. Price isn’t as good a cook as Nikolai, but he does like showing his appreciation for all the good food by cooking something in return. However, his food is kind of bland. It could be worse, but it could also use a lot more spices. Nikolai used to tease Price about that before, but he’s stopped since as Price really does put a lot of effort into cooking for Nikolai. The latter really isn’t so mean to genuinely hurt his boyfriend like that. He does give Price some constructive criticism, though. Offers to help with cooking next time, but both of them know that Nikolai will just take the lead. But in the end, they both really do enjoy cooking with each other, regardless of who makes the main dish. They also get really chatty during it.

NikPrice x Reader

Considering how long they’ve been with each other, they've gotten used to it, but you genuinely cannot cuddle them during summer. You’ll become a sweaty mess and won’t be able to sleep at all since they’re both very warm. Nikolai more so than Price. However, the two of them can cuddle each other just fine since they’re used to warmer nights because of all the missions they’ve gone on. However, it’s pretty nice in winter. They’re two big, burly and warm men who love to make you feel toasty. Price is actually a pretty cuddly guy and Nikolai can be too with the right people. If you’re not on the cuddly side then they’ll settle for giving you a pat on the back every once in a while or just holding your hand. But Price loves touching you and Nikolai. He doesn’t need to do it every single waking moment, but it’s nice to hold your loved ones. Nikolai can go either way, but he’s pretty cuddly with Price. Sometimes the two of them fight over who gets to be the big spoon, other times they’ll just plop into each other’s arms. If you’re shorter than them then you’ll likely get sandwiched between them. If you’re as tall or taller than them then they might ask you to take on the role of big spoon. Sure, they won’t mind it when you’re shorter than them, but they’ll chuckle since you’re just a little backpack.

Both of them will try to teach you how to fight and defend yourself. Even if you’re capable of that already, they’ll teach you something anyway. They’re both military men, they know what they’re talking about. Besides, it’s not as unlikely as one might think that you might get hurt because of them. You need to be able to defend yourself. They’ll take turns teaching you, improving your form and all. They’ll sometimes even deliberately spar in front of you so you could learn something from them fighting with each other. They won’t be as rough with you as they are with each other, especially not if you’re not part of the military, but they’ll be diligent in teaching you either way. If you’re part of the military then they’ll be rougher with you, but not as rough as with each other. Nikolai and Price have known each other for so long, they know where each other’s limits are. You’re the newest addition, so there’s still things they need to get to know. But I can assure you they will take good care of you. They’ll also reward you if you’re doing especially well during your little training lessons. Nikolai tries to bribe you into doing well by offering to cook your favorite meal if you do so.

The two of them actually spoil you rotten, especially if you don’t earn as much money as they do. Nikolai earns even more money than Price, so he has quite a lot to spend. Loves buying you and him all kinds of things. These can range from something useful to just something he saw and thought you might like. Price doesn’t like being indebted to people, so he always tries to buy Nikolai something back, even insisting that he shouldn’t buy him as many things. Nikolai never listens to him in that regard. And since Price buys Nikolai things he has to buy something for you as well. Sometimes it’s just your favorite kind of cake, sometimes it’s some nice and expensive jewelry. It’s always a mystery with Price. You don’t have to feel obligated to buy them something either. You’re more than welcome to if you have the finances to do so, but if you usually barely get by then you really shouldn’t have to. In fact, if you don’t have a lot of money then the two of them will pay for just about anything you need. Clothes, food, other necessities. It doesn’t matter. Together they have more money than they know what to do with anyway. It’s nice to spend it on someone you love and make them happy anyway. Don’t pay them back, they’ll find your bank account and return the money. They love you, let them pamper you like the little royalty you are.

#cod #cod x reader #cod nikolai #john price #nikolai x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #nikprice #nikprice x reader #I never really thought about writing charxchar on this blog in all honesty #but I suppose I can do it if more requests like this come in :] I doubt it but I'm willing to do it #I loved working on this because they may be smart but they're also complete and utter dumbasses #they're smart when it counts let's leave it at that #I actually have thought about being in a relationship with NikPrice before but I sometimes throw Graves into the mix as well #there's nothing wrong about yearning to be in a relationship with some men who could buy you something nice #and who would actually love you #see fictional characters are actually really good because they will always love you if you want them to #ugh I wanna cuddle these idiots so bad which is funny because I'm actually touch averse 95% of the time #but I just know that a good thorough cuddle session from those men would put me in a really good mood

74 notes · View notes

yasmeensh · 2 months

Text

Story update

I got to write a good chunk of the opening these past two days. Excited to get more work done over March break. And I can't wait to get to writing more about my daughter T-T But she comes in a bit later in the story. Still in the first act, though.

Some more character design doodles:

#personal project #paleolithic #neanderthal #prehistory #I've been SO BUSY #being a school teacher is so difficult....#especially with 6-7 year olds. why did I end up with the worst age group #they are angels and devils SIMULTANIOUSLY.#I felt my soul leave my body this week. two of the grade 2 boys dropped f bombs. i was SO SHOCKED. this word could never leave my mouth eve #AND THESE BABIES ARE SAYING IT!!???#but being a school teacher means you also get school breaks soooo MARCH BREAK LETS GO!!!#First thing I did: write more of the story and go ham with splatoon #the big run was so fun. I still couldn't break through to silver.... :'(#I don't know if I'll get much drawing done. I've been in a zelda 2 mood again. Maybe some zelda 2 art #I need to get back to finishing the remaster! I'm on maze island now.#but on the agenda for SURE is to get the opening of the story done and out of the way so I can start writing the REAL fun stuff #It's taking a while.#rambling again :P #oh and ramadan mubarak! tomorrow is the first day of fasting.

119 notes · View notes

theminecraftbee · 2 years

Text

"Do you think I would have had a soulmate?"

Grian looks over at his phone from where he's been painting his nails. It is 11:34 PM here on Hermitcraft, and he and Mumbo are having a guy's night. It's traditional; Mumbo being on a trip right now isn't about to stop them, now is it? That's what video calls are for.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if I'd been in that Double Life thing, I - well, goodness, I didn't do so well at Last Life, you killed me so early, I barely got to experience the endgame, I went right after Jimmy, I mean -"

"Are you trying to make me feel bad again?" Grian asks, gesturing with the brush from his nail polish.

"No, no, I know you wouldn't apologize. You still haven't, after all," Mumbo says cheerfully.

"You're trying to make me feel guilty!" Grian exclaims.

"Is it working?" Mumbo asks.

"You're the worst," Grian says.

"You're the one who killed me," Mumbo says.

"Ugh," Grian says. "One time. One time, and you never let me live it down!"

"I mean, technically, if we want - if we want to be technical, it may have been, uh, one time that it actually counted, but given how long we've known each other, saying that it was only one time that you've killed me is -"

"Ugh," Grian says again with great emphasis, attempting to indicate exactly how done he is with this train of thought. Mumbo makes a half-snorting laugh over the phone.

"Anyway. If I'd been there for Double Life. Do you think I would have had a soulmate, properly and such?"

"Mumbo, everyone had a soulmate, that's how the game worked," Grian says.

"It would have been an odd number of people," Mumbo says.

"We would have - Lizzie would have done it. Maybe she would have been your soulmate. Game wouldn't have worked if you were on your own." Grian looks back down at his nails. "It was all about - look, Mumbo, the whole thing was about keeping each other alive."

"And killing each other," Mumbo says.

"Well, yes, that too," Grian says. "And killing the others." He pauses. "Each other. And - you phrased that oddly. The point was not to kill your soulmate. The point was the opposite of that, really."

"But you did," Mumbo says with great concern.

"I - no, I didn't kill Scar, a warden killed me, which - I apologized," Grian says. "That's not - why do you think you wouldn't have a soulmate?"

"Well, uh, it will sound silly when I say it out loud," Mumbo says.

"Mumbo, we are having a guy's night. The whole point is saying things that sound silly when you say them out loud. All the things in the world you wouldn't say in front of anyone else. Mumbo, I just told you that I apologized to Scar. I wouldn't admit that to other people if I were being waterboarded."

"You know, I think you think that's charming sometimes," Mumbo says. "It's not."

"Ugh," Grian says.

"You can change the topic other ways."

"So can you!"

"Is it that obvious that I'm derailing - oh, well, uh, I suppose it is," Mumbo says.

"It's - I don't think I get attached to people quite like that, is all," Mumbo explains. "I don't think, um - well, you know, from how you all have talked about it. It's a little like - you get close to people. Even Scott or Pearl or - they got close to... ideas. To people. Sometimes I think, um. I don't - I don't get attached to people like that? Closely. I don't think I could give myself to someone else. And I don't think I naturally - bonding with someone in a way they'd do that for me doesn't seem... real? Like I could..."

He pauses. Grian lets the silence linger. It is clear Mumbo is trying to figure out how to say something.

"I don't think I could let there be someone, who by dying, would kill me. Uh. Oh dear. That sounded sort of dramatic, like that, but -"

"It's not about letting," Grian interrupts.

"I think maybe it is. A little bit, it is," Mumbo says. "I mean, look at Cleo. Look at Scott. Look at -"

"It's not about letting. It's not about - sometimes you don't have a choice," Grian says. "I don't know. I think you'd - there's nothing wrong if you don't feel - Scar and I are not an example you should feel bad for not -"

"Oh, I don't feel bad for not being you two. Really, I think there's something wrong with you two."

"...thanks," Grian says.

"My point's more - I don't think my brain, uh, in the way -"

"You don't have to feel like you can give yourself up for someone," Grian says. "It's okay. You don't - you'd have had a soulmate, it just would be a bit different, is all."

Mumbo pauses. "Are you sure?"

Grian shrugs. "Even if you don't think you're attached to me, I'm certainly attached to you."

"Oh. I'm attached to you too? I think? Is that a normal thing to say? You know, I think there might also be something wrong with us, actually."

Grian cackles. "Yeah, that's about right, isn't it?"

Mumbo hums. "I mean, you did kill me," he says.

"You juiced me for my soul, don't you start -" Grian says, and the boy's night devolves back into familiar bickering. The coating on Grian's nails ends up uneven. They do not fall asleep until after one, and the next morning, Grian is exhausted and happy.

#grian #mumbo jumbo #double life smp #a bee fic #(this is tagged double life because while it takes place ON hc it's not about that)#anyway. uncertain whether mumbo's supposed to be aro or autistic or both here. possibly both?#also i just wanted to write some silly grian and mumbo dialogue that was also heartfelt #sometimes i'm in that mood you know

887 notes · View notes

zorilleerrant · 10 months

Text

Tim is fine with being protected. It comes from being the least trained in a family full of people with borderline supernatural skills, it comes from playing backup, from being the eye in the sky during so many missions when he has more support skills than those better equipped to be boots on the ground. It comes from being on so many teams with so many people with so many powers and it comes from being practically family to household names. It comes from being the one Robin that’s always there for Batman to play it safe with.

Tim is not fine with a civilian putting himself in danger. It’s not because it’s Bernard, he tells himself, over and over again. It’s any time it’s someone with less training, less armor, less experience in the field. Anyone with fewer weapons, anyone with fewer allies, anyone who can’t see the split second decisions the villains are making with someone else’s life on the line. Anyone who didn’t devote themselves to this, who didn’t look at the symbol of the Bat and agree to be part of the venture, paring off every extraneous branch on the journey until the pike is honed smooth, ready to throw.

It’s every civilian, but it’s one civilian, one with a lopsided smile and the most textbook perfect punch he puts his whole weight behind, a body at peak physical health but without the kind of reflexes scarred in day after day he needs to stand his ground. Smooth skin, few scars. Hands soft despite the callouses and gentle, carefully applying stitches, bandages, injections they’re not yet used to holding. One civilian with ridiculous, almost unintelligible good luck wishes, and no fashion sense, who talks too fast to keep himself safe when he’s in someone else’s sights.

But Bernard knows people, he knows places, he has a name with weight where Robin’s doesn’t matter much and Tim Drake’s even less, and he’s willing to throw it around Tim like the shield it is. He puts his body in between Tim and harm, and still that easy smile, still those eyes shining with some kind of hidden plan, some words unspoken because you know that once they are, they’re going to be good. He doesn’t tell Tim the way out. Tim isn’t supposed to have the kind of skills he needs to navigate a situation like this, so why let him in on the secret?

From everyone else’s perspective, Tim is soft and small and spoiled, Tim is the kind of kid who doesn’t even know himself enough to be sure he wants to hold hands. A rich kid who’s never gotten his hands dirty, a pretty little trophy on the arm of someone whose gaze holds the weight of the world when he carefully measures his words. Someone there to giggle when Bernard asks if they’re absolutely sure they really want to do that.

Bernard knows who he is. Bernard knows what Tim would throw himself bodily between, knows how much he would give, how much he has given, for his friends, and his family, and Gotham. How much he would give for Bernard. He knows that Tim would fight tooth and nail, and how well he knows where each tooth and each nail fits for maximum damage, to keep himself alive those few seconds long enough to wait for help. Bernard knows what Robin can do, would do, will do again once they’re out and safe and free.

But Tim knows just how fragile the human form is. How many bones there are to break and how many pints of blood there are to lose, how deep scarring has to go before it’s impossible to move. He knows the spots that hurt and the spots that harm, and he knows that the bravado is just a façade. That if anyone sees through Bernard’s act, sees through his ploys and appeals to an authority that scares him as much as his audience, that Bernard has just as many points of vulnerability as anyone else who’s lain broken and cold before him.

Tim will be the princess in the castle, and Bernard his knight, but for all the things he knows a dragon can do. Tim can count the dragons around them. Bernard can, too. Bernard’s been a dragon on his own, or else the child of one, and he knows firsthand the burns they leave, and still he sweeps across the ash like it isn’t even there. It’s Robin who can do something, Robin the wizard with ancient tomes and sage advice, but Tim is the only one here, and no one ever wants the princess to rescue herself. He has to let Bernard be his knight.

But Bernard speaks the magic words, and Tim does trust him, places his life so carefully in his lover’s hands and closes his eyes against the chill, and Bernard takes that gift for what it means, carries it with all the weight it has and tucks it up so gently against his own heart. Tim isn’t always the one with the way out, and he isn’t always the one who can do the protecting, and he’s used to that. But he slips his fingers through the one hand he thought he’d always be able to hold without being led by it, and lets that perfect image shatter. There’s no keeping Bernard away. He’s already involved. More involved than Tim ever was, in some ways, and less in the ways that Tim can still keep him out of it. Not safe, none of them were ever safe, but not as fragile as the snowglobe he was trying to frame the picture with, and there are more angles than he was prepared to watch. Still, Tim has contingencies. And the contingency, now, is to let Bernard protect him for once, just like he promised he would.

#look i said something #my writing #fanfic #batman #timber week 2023 #tim drake #bernard dowd #timber #timbern #I don't know what writing style this is I'm not sure it's actually in Tim's voice I guess I'm in a weird mood #slowly chipping away at these. probably eventually get there

230 notes · View notes

varpusvaras · 3 months

Text

Fox is a very athletic guy, okay. Very athletic indeed. He has gone through so many different combat training and battle modules from the moment he learned to walk. His running speed, reaction times and jump distances rival those of actual professional atheletes.

Unfortunately, not a single thing in his training is useful when it comes to learning how to dance. Fox had liked watching people dance...well enough. He had like watching Bail and Breha dance, certainly. But then it dawns on him that weddings include dancing in front of everyone. Then it dawns on him that since it's his wedding, he needs to be the one dancing.

Oh. Oh no.

#fox might be crying just a little bit #then he realises that he needs to learn how to dance both parts and he is definitely crying #he does have very patient teachers but he just doesn't like it when he doesn't already know how to do something #which is mood #I might write a ficlet about this later I'm too tired now kshks #sw #tcw #commander fox #bail/breha/fox

80 notes · View notes

queenofmalkier · 11 days

Text

Okay, I just have to say it to anyone feeling isolated or picked on or like the Main Character standing against Amazon's Wot-Show wrongs: nobody is mad that you don't like the show. People have different opinions! Different expectations! In a series this long there's dozens of things people will disagree on in terms of importance and that is normal!

You know what nobody likes?

The condescending, holier-than-thou attitude of some individuals who don't like the show who have decided that It Is Actually Bad And Terrible and anyone who likes it is Wrong.

Who constantly invade show-friendly spaces, who review bomb, who basically act like five year olds having a tantrum in the middle of Target.

People who I'm sorry to say don't seem to understand that there's no one way to adapt a series. Think of it like the works of Shakespeare and move on with your day.

The way I'd do it is going to be different than the way you'd do it, which will be entirely different from the way a third person will do it. That doesn't make any of us wrong - and YET you get mad when reasonable people point out that when you say the show is an Evil Bad Wrong No Good Bad Adaptation Without Question you are discounting those of us who think it's honestly not bad.

And then those same people wrap themselves up in a mantle of hurt and victimhood because everybody is being mean to them! Nobody understands!

Honey, we understand talking to you about the show right now is like talking down some drunk guy in a Denny's parking lot who is screaming at the curb. You aren't making rational points. You are Big Mad and trying to make it the problem of anybody who doesn't think the way you do.

I know I've made an effort to be understanding and empathetic about it, I've tried to explain my reasons for enjoying the show while seeing the point of others who hate it, but I'm tired of only receiving "that's cute you think that but Actually I Am Correct still" in return.

There's no growth, no learning, no further understanding. At this point it's bitching to bitch while pretending to be the only one knowledgeable on the subject. It's screaming about "that's not what I'm asking for!" while, actually, the complaints you're making are very much asking for a perfect 1 to 1 adaptation or some secret third thing that remains a mystery to me.

Either way, I love ya'll, I love WOT, I hope like hell this is a taken as the I Don't Know What Else To Do intervention, come-to-maker post it's meant to be but if it's not and you're angry maybe think about why.

#wheel of time #did I write a lot of this months ago? yes #was I in a mood? yes #but you know what it was true then and it's true now #I absolutely value the opinion of the many talented people in this fandom #I think we're all so joyous and genuinely happy to bond over meta and lore and jokes #that the few bad apples don't really ruin things #I fucking love it here #but also? I'm done babying the bad apples #improve your attitude go touch grass whatever you gotta do #so we can all fucking get along again while agreeing to disagree

48 notes · View notes

justwhumpythings · 8 months

Text

Listen I know 'ghhhs' is not a verb and I will describe how my whumpee here is screaming properly when I get to that paragraph but sometimes 'ghhh' really is just the only way to describe the animalistic, uninhibited way a noise that comes so deeply from pain and the throat sounds, y'know?

#my writing #you know when a scream/moan sounds like it starts with a g right #comes from the back of the throat but lingers in the mouth almost like a word #i am in a Prose mood lol apologies #(ace if you happen to see this i am describing the scream that gets audio cut out in the scene i was complaining was too short lol)#this is some Late Night Sarah rambling you're all getting here 😅#but writing always beats sleeping so i'm going to be up a while longer

130 notes · View notes

reasonandfaithinharmony · 4 months

Text

Okay. In celebration of surviving this week, I am either going to do something creative and fulfilling. Or let myself stare blankly at a screen.

Haven't decided yet.

#i say this as though i'm actually in charge of making this decision lol #will the executive function kick in?#who knows #certainly not me #🙃#adulting #creative process #procrastination #weekend #art #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #fandom #mood

62 notes · View notes

the-modern-typewriter · 2 years

Note

Ngh, I have to agree with that anon, you're really talented at writing vampires who truly feel dangerous, and not just softies with fang. If you like the idea, do you think you could write something about a Victorian maiden alone in her bedroom, waking up to a vampire scratching at her window, begging her to let him in because he's just so very cold, and he longs for her warm embrace to feel alive again. She doesn't want to at first, because even though he's beautiful, he's also pale with long teeth and nails and a wicked smile. But then she gazes into his eyes, and they draw her in irresistibly. Basically, I'm really curious about how you'd write vampire hypnosis, old school Gothic novel style!

Everyone knew that vampires went for the pretty girls and handsome boys, the lords and ladies of fortune and good breeding with their soft skin like fine-china to serve such lethal meals, tucked away from the world and oblivious to the rules beyond their gilded towers.

So, when the vampire first tapped at her window, she assumed she must be dreaming. She certainly didn't think to scream. Instead, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and stared.

Maybe it was already too late, truly, from the first their eyes met. Even if it was only for a heartbeat. She should have known better. Mostly, though, she simply wanted to know - to bite the forbidden fruit of him, and taste the sweetness of such an otherworldly thing.

He was pale and delicate in the moonlight, like a boy from an old painting. A man. He was not a boy, he was a man, and even as that registered, she felt her heart skitter. He appeared older than her, but not by much.

He was beautiful.

It felt a odd to even think it - beautiful. But, he was. The most beautiful thing she had ever seen, though she could admit that there was scant competition. Beautiful things did not often come calling for her.

So, she stared, and prayed maybe god might forgive her a few moments at looking at something so lovely. Surely he would look, too, with a face like that at his window?

"I'm so cold," he said. "Won't you please let me in?"

The fine points of his teeth shone in the light.

She realised she had stood up from her bed. She realised she had half crossed to the window towards him, her trembling fingers curled around the latch. Her breath fogged up the glass and his did not.

She swallowed. Fear - and something else, something unfamiliar - curled like smoky invitation in the pit of her belly.

"Let me warm myself in your arms," he murmured. "For I am so cold, and you are so lonely. Are you not, miss?"

She yanked her hands back from the latch as if she'd been scalded, taking a few stumbling steps back. And...

He grinned. His voice changed, away from its sorrowful longing, and terribly it suited him more.

"That's how the line goes, isn't it?"

She squared her shoulders, heat flooding her face. "I ask that you leave, sir. You are not welcome here."

"Oh, miss." He wet his lips, and craned a little closer to the glass, as if he could feel the warmth of her even at such a distance and longed for it. "The pounding of your heart protests otherwise."

She had no proper response for that, and so she whirled away from him - it - with great determination, and returned to her bed. She put her back to the window and willed herself not to turn and check again.

He was back the next night, and the following, and soon enough she felt a little dizzy from sleeplessness and stolen glances. When she did manage to fall asleep, her dreams were strange fragmented things, consumed by the wicked smile of a pretty man warming up beneath the forbidden press of her hands. He would kiss her neck, and the swell of her chest, and hold her with such strong arms. And his eyes...they would burn into her, as if he had never once been made to be dead, made to be cold.

Curse the creature! And yet, she could not shake the thoughts of him.

After a week of it, she went over to the window again, with every intention of scolding him for his efforts. Just because he was a thing of the night, did not mean he had to be so improper when she was trying to sleep.

Their eyes met again.

His were very pale, as silvery as the rest of him, like a cat's eyes glinting in the night. They were...they were...

"Won't you undo the window latch?" he asked, and then with another quirk of a smile, as if to mock them both. "I am so very cold."

She didn't remember exactly undoing the latch, but then the window was open and the night air was cool upon her flushed skin. It was awful cold, and she shivered.

He rested his arms upon the sill, preventing her from slamming it shut again, but did not enter yet. He watched her as intently and as transfixed as she observed him.

"Are you ready to ask for what you want, miss?"

What she wanted?

"You intend to kill me. I suppose you imagine that nobody will miss me." She jutted her chin up. "I have told the priest of your visits-"

"-You have not."

She faltered.

"But I can humour you, if you wish to tell what you confessed." He raised his brows, a small smile playing on those lips again. "Perhaps that you have allowed a gentleman caller at your window at all hours? Vampires do not go for the likes of you. You must have done something wrong."

Had she?

"At least," he said, with a careless shrug, "I imagine that is what they will say."

"You are a monster. A damned thing."

"Indeed, but that does not mean they will not be quick to find fault in you for my sins. It comforts them, you see, to believe that they would never do the same."

In an instant, like an unravelling of smoke or another glancing of moonlight, he was inside her home. He smelled like snow. His mouth had more colour than the rest of him, red roses to the lily of him, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Let me get that," he murmured, and closed the window behind him with a soft click. "I would so hate for you to catch a chill."

She backed up a step, though it was far too late for that.

"You have - my mind -"

"Yes." He closed the gap between them, only to cup her face gently, and oh he truly was cold. It made her gasp. Her knees felt weak. He did not let her fall, cradling her in the careful cage of his embrace. "You could not have resisted. It is not you - anyone would be the same."

"Then why me?" It seemed a small, pitiful question. It exposed too much that she was not the girl that people wanted. That she was the one whose mother was gone, and whose father didn't notice anything, and who nobody in the village would much miss.

"Because." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then her lips, and brushed her hair back from her shoulders to expose the line of her throat. "You are beautiful." He kissed her neck, her aching pulse. "And when I held your eyes in mine," he whispered in her ear, "I could not resist you."

The next night, he was back again, and the window was open.

"Do you know what you want?" he asked.

And she said, "I know what it is like to be the stranger in this town."

She said, "I know what it is like to always be the one outside, never invited in. I understand it all now, and you..."

She said, "it's dreadful cold, sir. Come in."

#all this talk of vampires and I'm in a mood #next thing won't be vampires haha #vampires #writing #story #creative writing #fiction #sometimes I forget how much I love vampires #i know little of Victorian ettiquette

806 notes · View notes

osamusriceballs · 6 months

Text

The Accident - Part VII

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: None

Words: ~ 2k

About: You talk to your mysterious friend and finally part from Atsumu.

Part I II -> Next part

"It's me. I'm okay- please don't worry. I'll be back soon."

"Where have you been? I was worried sick; I've tried calling you all night! You just texted me that everything's alright at 4am, but what's going on? Where are you?"

The voice comes out of the phone, quickly and fast as always, and you hold the phone a bit further away from your ear. "Please, I'm okay, I promise!" You can hear a few deep breaths on the other side, probably the attempt to calm down, and then the voice speaks again.

"Where are you right now? I'll come and pick you up, and then you can tell me everything."

"I'm at the—" you hesitate and then look at the name on the towel and read it out loud. "Do you know where that is?"

"Give me a second." You hear typing noises on the other side and then a little gasp. "That's an expensive hotel! One night costs 500 bucks, and the suits are literally thousands of dollars per night!"

"What?!" you're speechless for a few moments, realizing just how much money Atsumu might own—you are in a suite after all and you definitely did not pay for it.

"It will take some time to get there. I'll be there in an hour? I'll send you my location. Is there someone else with you?" Your thoughts drift to Atsumu, and you hum. "Yes. And I need to ask for a favor. Do you have a lawyer? Or do you know someone who maybe knows someone who can help me with a divorce for cheap?"

"A divorce? Who needs a—wait. Are you talking about yourself? Did you get married?" The voice is so shrill and loud that you almost flinch, and you find yourself regretting revealing that fact already. "I'll tell you the details later. Please don't worry about me." You try to sound as calm and soothing as you can, and after a few shocked gasps, you hear silence again on the other hand. "Hello? Are you still there?"

"Yes. I'll come and get you, and then you'll have to tell me everything."

You agree, and after a few more times of you repeating that you'll be fine and that you're being taken care of, you hang up. You take a deep breath, and without thinking too much about it, you quickly undress and go into the shower.

It's like heaven. The warm water feels soothing on your skin, and there are more products in the shower than you have ever used so far, but you find yourself drawn to the pretty bottles and decide to spoil yourself. It's not your water bill after all, and if Atsumu is paying for it, you can go all out and spend a few more minutes in the shower. The towels are fluffy and warm, thanks to the towel warmer, and you find yourself pressing your face against the soft fabric and inhaling the fresh and clean smell. The mirror is foggy by now, you probably showered at too hot a temperature, but the warm water just felt so good on your skin.

A soft knock on the door brings your attention back to reality, and you find yourself stepping closer to the pompous wooden door. "Y/n? I put the clothes in front of the door. Samu and I will wait on the balcony; you can get them anytime."

"Thanks!" you respond and hear footsteps leaving the room and a loud sound that's probably the window closing behind them. You wait a few more moments just to be sure that they are gone, and then you open the door a little bit to take the small pile of clothes.

It's a shirt with the hotel name, surprisingly tasteful due to the minimalistic logo of the expensive establishment, as well as a matching pair of sweatpants as well as a pair of socks. The fabric is soft, and you quickly put on the new clothes, only regretting that you have to wear your old panties, but there is not much you can do about it.

You take one last look at your phone, quickly checking your appearance one last time, wishing you'd have the time to wash your hair too, but you'll do that when you're back in your hotel room. You're just glad that you feel clean and warm now.

You step out of the room, feeling a little better and more alive already, and look around. You find Atsumu and Osamu standing on the balcony, both of them busy in a heated discussion, and you watch them for a few moments from your position after you noticed that they are not looking in your direction yet.

They are undeniably related. You can find similarities in the way they speak, in the way they use they hands when they talk and in the way they stand. They are both very attractive—something that you can freely admire now that they haven't seen you yet.

A notification on your phone informs you that your friend will reach you in a few minutes, and when you look up, you see that the twins have stopped talking and instead watch you through the window in silence. You pause momentarily and then lift your hand to wave at them. Atsumu's eyes take in your new clothes, checking you out from head to toe, and he gives you an approving thumbs up and a grin. Osamu rolls his eyes at Atsumu and simply pushes the door open.

"Hey. I'm glad the clothes fit." He comments, and you look down at yourself at his words. "Yeah, me too. Thanks. I appreciate it a lot; I feel so much better already."

Atsumu also steps into the room again, making sure to bump his shoulder against Osamu's when he passes him, ignoring the curse of the dark-haired male.

"Ya look better already. Feelin' alright again?" His voice is still tinted with the slightest bit of concern, and you smile at his words.

"Yes, thank you. I'm sorry for being so weird before. I was just a bit overwhelmed." Atsumu shakes his head and buries his hands in his pockets. "Don't sweat it. That's normal. Gettin' married like this is a pretty unusual thing after all."

"Right. Uhm. My friend will pick me up soon; I'll get downstairs and wait there. I'll give you my number, and then you can call me as soon as you find out more?" You look at him questioningly, and he is quick to fish for his phone in his back pocket. "Sounds good. I'll wait with ya till yer friend arrives." He watches while you type in your number and quickly save it. "Oh, you don't have to. I'll find the way on my own, don't worry." You shake your head, but he quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you to the door. "Nah, I insist. Where are your shoes?" You let him guide you, his arm around your shoulders feeling somewhat heavy but comforting while you look around for your high heels from last night. Atsumu guides you to the chair next to the door and ushers you to sit on it while he grabs the black shoes from the ground. "Do ya think they'll fit with the socks?" He asks with a frown, and you just shrug your shoulders as a response. "I hope so. I don't want to leave without socks; I don't even want to wear the shoes, to be honest."

His brows furrow while he looks at your feet. "Sorry, I wish we had some other shoes for ya." You quickly shake your head. "It's fine. It's just for the way downstairs. It's okay." He nods and kneels in front of you, and you subconsciously slide back on the chair as far as you can to create some distance between the two of you. "What are you doing?" He takes your left foot and places it on his thigh, and you feel every single muscle in your body tensing at the sudden contact. "Helpin' with yer shoes. Stay still for me."

You're at a loss for words while he slips the shoe on your foot; all you can do is stare at him while he secures it around your ankle. Surprisingly, it fits around your socked foot, and he nods before he lets go of your foot and reaches for the other. It doesn't take him long to get it on your foot too, and you shortly admire how skilled he is with his fingers, and then he places them both on the ground. "There ya go." He hums satisfied and gets on his feet, quickly offering you his hand to stand up. At this point, you just accept it and take his hand, allowing him to lead you to the door.

"Uhm. Bye, Osamu. See you. Maybe." You turn around and wave at the dark-haired twin who had made no attempt to come with you, and he nods acknowledgingly. "See ya."

You follow Atsumu through the door, who seems to be familiar with the hotel because he is quick to lead you to an outrageously big elevator. It's silent on the ride downstairs. You're standing each on different sides of the elevator, leaning against the walls, your bodies no longer touching. You don't really know what to say to him; you're too deep in thought right now, and he seems to feel somewhat similar.

"The exit is right there." He motions to the other end of the hall as soon as you get out of the elevator, and you hum while you follow him to the doors. You're lucky that there are barely people around because you certainly feel a bit underdressed with the clothes from the shop, but Atsumu doesn't even spare a glance to anyone you're passing. The receptionist greets you without batting an eye at your unusual attire; you're fairly certain that you both give a very unusual sight. Atsumu with his formal dress pants and half-opened dress shirt, and you with the hotel shirt and sweatpants and heels from last night. Surely not an everyday sight, but professionalism prevents her from looking longer at you.

It does not take long until you both stand in front of the hotel, just far enough from the entrance not to bother other guests but still close enough to see everyone who enters the building. You both stand there for a few moments in mutual silence, until you look up at him with a faint smile. "Thank you for showing me the way. I'll manage from here on. You can get back to Osamu; it's alright."

He frowns at your words and looks around.

"Can I really leave you here?" He looks a bit worried, and you nod with a tight smile. You really need some time to think about everything. "My friend will pick me up soon. You can go back to Osamu; it's fine, really!"

He hesitates for a second, probably not fully convinced that everything's fine, and the next thing you know is that his big arms surround you and pull you into a hug. You're stiff at first, unsure how you should react, but the comfort and familiarity that he is radiating by now makes it all too easy to melt into his touch and to hug him back. "Y/n. I meant it. I'll take care of ya, okay? Everything's gonna be alright. I'll make sure of that."

"Hmm." You hum against his shoulder, deeply inhaling his comfortable smell, and his grip tightens around you. "And if ya need anything—anything at all—call me. Anytime." You nod, hoping that he can feel your response and your gratitude because you don't trust your voice right now. You know you should probably pull back, but it feels too good to be in his arms, too good to be close to him, so you just stay, and he seems willing to let you.

"Y/n!" You hear someone yelling your name behind you, and you quickly pull yourself out of Atsumu's arms. You turn around and face a familiar face with big brown eyes which flicker from you to Atsumu with a surprised expression.

"Wait—Atsumu Miya? What are you doing here?"

Your jaw drops, and you turn your head back to Atsumu, who looks equally surprised to see your friend.

"You know each other?!"

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #I feel like I'm stretching a few things here #but I just enjoyed writing the details rn somehow #I hope you enjoyed it too! <3 #I feel like it's always easy to guess my mood from my writing #I was in no rush and relaxing today #because I'm a bit sick and spent the day in bed #I already started writing the next part #I might be able to post it tomorrow #I hope you're excited to meet y/n's friend! <3 #it's definitely someone you know #and someone you maybe wouldn't have expected #but I wanted to show some appreciation for that character <3 #I wanted to keep it a surprise until the next part

64 notes · View notes