#because i think that would cause my brain to melt before the summer break even starts

[emmythespacecowgirl]

Fandom: BoB Gender/Pronouns: Female. She/Her. Sexuality: Straight Gender Preference: Male Appearance: I am 5’6, black hair just past my shoulders, brown eyes that I’m learning to love. I have light olive skin in the summertime that pales a bit during winter due to lack of sunny weather. I wear minimal makeup, keep it more natural. My hair either in a ponytail or bun for practicality. Only letting it down during the evening. About me: I grew up too fast due to childhood trauma that made me distrust men; to put it politely as I can without triggering anyone who reads this. So sex is, well, patience is required ^^”. For the longest time I went through dark depression, and recent years, I’ve managed to overcome the ‘S’-word and not looked back. I’m kinda proud about that, to be honest. PTSD still grips me in the form of nightmares, trust issues and anxiety. I think I formed a hardened shell around myself because I’ve become this hard-ass stranger trying to protect this sweet little girl trapped inside and it hurts that I have to protect her from the world. So only a select few get to see the real me. Trusting people is a major issue. It causes heartbreak when you put your trust in someone, utterly loyal and they break with a lie or something worse. I wish I was braver than I come across. So many fields of occupations I could have chosen but anxiety prevented me in doing so. But then, if I chose to become a Nurse or followed through Boot Camp, I wouldn’t be here asking for a ship XD I hate the cold. I hate loud noise (loud music blaring, overlapping of TV, Music, Chatter all at once). Main Flaws: Shutting down when there’s a problem. My brain can’t deal with confrontation so I have nothing to offer in an argument. I need to just go away and process everything before I have an answer. Also, I’m not good at seeking someone else out to have a ‘Hey can I talk to you about something?’ off my chest-situation. I just find a quiet place to sit, stare and sometimes cry. I don’t seek out comfort either – simply because I don’t want to burden that person. I don't like ice-cream or sweet-tooth desserts (apparently that's a flaw because everyone is flabbergasted when I turn down icecream) Hobbies: I love to read. I used to be an avid bookworm but that slowed down in recent years but I’m starting to find a routine and pick that back up again. I love photography; particularly photographing sunsets. It makes me soft. I love listening to music. Remember when I said I grew up too fast? Well… I think I’m an old soul stuck in a young person’s body because I adore listening to 40s music on the Record Player. Also have a tendency to bake to music too. I’ve actually also discovered I love sitting outside in the evening and eating dinner or having a drink. Just enjoy the weather. Personality: Introvert but more open with the right people if I’m comfortable with them. (I don’t do astrology signs because I don’t believe in allowing the alignment of the sun and moon dictate how I do the dishes). Pet Peeves: Oof…uh… not tidying up. Like, don’t leave a dirty cup on the table when you can put it in the sink. Put that pen away, don’t just leave it there. TV remote goes back in the drawer when you’re not using it. Not making the bed. Oh my god. Make the damn bed. Love Language: despite trauma, physical touch (not mollycoddling touch) helps. It also helps build that trust back in the male species. Hugs are pretty important. Words. I don’t require some lovey-dovey speech, but a few firm words of reassurance helps deeply. Other: I love the idea of slow-dancing. I never get to. But it’d be nice? To walk, arm around the crook of my lovers elbow as he take a walk along the path before sundown. Soft vibes would melt me. I love spring/summer weather. I love the smell of freshly mowed grass and rain on hot cement. Insecurities: Not feeling like I’m good enough. I don’t burden this onto people but it’s always nagging at the back of my mind.

I ship you with:

Doc Roe from Band of Brothers!

ship theme song: Dancing in the Dark by Artie Shaw

I think our Doc Roe can thaw you out :)

he's a Louisiana gentleman through and through

so he would never want to make you uncomfortable

he first notices you in England

you're both training in your respective medical units

but he can tell that you look slightly uncomfortable and in desperate need of a friend

I think Doc Roe sees a lot of his own qualities in you

so he's able to understand what you're thinking or feeling a good 90% of the time

oh and did i mention that he thinks you're the most striking creature he's ever seen??

he loves your black hair

he especially loves seeing it down and in it's natural style

you remind him of nature because there's nothing made up about you

you don't have to try hard to be pretty

Doc wouldn't change a thing <3

the trick will be getting you introduced to each other

since's you're both introverted, it'll probably take some outside force to get you two to connect

the first couple of dates might be a little awkward

but then Doc invites you dancing at this tiny dance hall in Aldbourne one night

its probably the most fun that you two have had together!

Gene is a humble yet very smooth dancer

almost a natural talent

it's actually where you share your first kiss together <3

the lights are all dim on the dance floor

and you both just feel like very safe in the anonymity of the other dancers

it's during "Dancing in the Dark"

ugh! perfection!!

y'all do all the cute spring activities together in England!

Gene is a big fan of spring

it's his favorite season actually

he makes it his life's mission to to draw you out of your shell and put you at ease

since your love languages match perfectly

i see lots of endless hand-holding

Gene could walk miles with your hand in his

as far as anything sexual goes

Doc is perfectly fine with taking things slowly

as long as you're comfortable and safe

that's all that matters to him

Gene also is no stranger to PTSD either

you both comfort each other when someone wakes up from a nightmare

Gene is a particularly gifted reassurance-giver

it's the soothing tone of his voice

and yes, the cajun accent does help, too

but the dude knows exactly how to calm your nerves

Gene is also a pretty perceptive caretaker

he can sense when you're upset

and he'll never let you cry alone

his shoulder is always free to cry on

"shh, ma cherie," he coos to you

Gene feels blessed and honored that he gets to be one of those rare people who gets to see your most vulnerable and naive side

he stills thinks you're the most strong person he's ever met

anything you tell Gene in confidence will be taken to the grave

you spend hours together in Bastogne

snuggled under the same blanket in a fox hole

and fantasizing about the big house you'll buy together when you get back home

one with a big wrap-around porch

Gene knows how you love to be outside

he loves the idea that you can be both outside and inside at the same time

because you could technically listen to your favorite records from the stereo system inside :)

PLEASE bake this man something!!

he will love it !

#enjoy #<3 #my work #ships #bob ships #the pacific ships #band of brothers #doc roe

[alpacaparkaseok]

New Haircut(e), Who Dis?

“You’re like a stupid amount of hot no matter what.”

→ Pairing: boyfriend!Namjoon x reader 

→ word count: 1.3k (look! I made a short one!!)

→ warnings/tags: SFW, slice of life, Namjoon loves his new haircut so much and it’s adorable so this is that lol, established relationship, fluffier than I care to admit, title based off of the game “new phone, who dis?”, idol!Namjoon

→ a/n: this summer request was requested by @what-is-sukh-thinking, I hope you enjoy it!! It was a fun request and I’m so soft for this man so thanks for giving me an excuse to write about him! p.s. idk what it is about this title/banner but I’m so proud of myself lol

In your defense, you didn’t mean to fall asleep. However, after you washed your sheets and made the bed, it just looked so soft, you couldn’t resist climbing under the covers for a moment. 

“Joonie?” You call out, wincing at your croaky voice. A few adorable sock-clad scampering seconds later, the man in question appears cracks the door open. 

“Hey, look who’s up.” 

Clad in nondescript clothing and a baseball cap, your entire world waltzes into the room, narrowly missing a stray hanger that lays on the floor. With little grace and a lot of yelling, your boyfriend dives onto the bed. 

“Gah!” You screech, laughing as Namjoon makes some foreign noise, keeping one hand on the brim of his baseball cap. “Yah, what’s with the hat tod-” 

You’re effectively cut off when he presses his lips to yours, smiling through the kiss. Pulling back ever so slightly, Namjoon’s eyes crinkle under the force of his grin. 

“Have I ever told you how happy I am that you’re in my life?” He whispers, eyes darting all over your face as though he can’t get enough of you. 

“Yah, Joon, what do you want.”

“I mean it!” He defends, chuckling to himself. Propping himself up on his elbows, he brushes your hair back behind your ears. 

You could swim in his eyes. Would, if you could. How he’s able to so openly share his love with you through a single look is beyond you. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asks softly, content to trace the line of your brows and nose. Practically melting through the pillows, your eyes fall shut and you sigh contentedly. 

“When you used to leave for tour or long projects, I used to pull up videos of your closing speech at concerts, just to see that look in your eyes.” Slowly, you crack open your eyes and hold up your hands as though holding a camera. “Just like that,” you whisper, taking an imaginary photo. “Click.”

Gasping, Namjoon’s adoration is palpable as he takes your fingers and presses light kisses to the tips. “Did you just take a picture of me? What’re you, paparazzi?” 

“Yep, you caught me. I bet I could sell this photo for a pretty penny, too.”

“I hate to break it to you, but your camera is fake, darling.”

“Is that so?” Winking up at him, you tap your forehead. “I’ll just store it in my memory card for safe keeping, I guess.” Then you gasp, sitting up and nearly causing Namjoon to topple off the bed in the process. “Ha! Get it? Memory card? Because I’m storing it in my brain-”

“Yeah, yeah, cute,” Namjoon groans even as he blushes at your antics. He fiddles with the drawstring of his gray sweats, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Hey,” he starts, but doesn’t go on. 

Turning to sit cross-legged across from him, you tilt your head to one side. 

“Hey, yourself.”

He laughs quietly, glancing up at you quickly before looking back down. “Do you remember our first date?”

The memory instantly brings a smile to your face. Between Dispatch trailing you most of the night and Namjoon nearly killing you (on accident, you forgot to tell him about your nut allergy), it was nothing short of a disaster.

“You almost killed me!” You point an accusing finger at him, laughing at his offended expression.

“I took you out for a nice dinner and a movie, how is that attempted murder?!” He reaches out for you, but you pull away, shaking your head.

“No murderers allowed,” you shout, only making Namjoon laugh harder. When you start to push each other teasingly, Namjoon’s hand automatically flies up to his baseball hat. “Yah! Seriously Joon, what’s with the hat?”

He looks guilty, smiling softly even though he keeps a hand on his hat. “I...I did a thing.”

“A thing? Like, dyed it again?” You cross your arms. “Are you gonna show me?”

He shakes his head firmly. “This is more than just a dye, jagiya.”

Heart leaping up to your throat, you get up on your knees and start crawling over to Namjoon. “What’d you do? I just wanna see Joonie, I’m sure it looks great-”

Namjoon scoots back, grabbing your wrist as you swipe at his hat. “I don’t know if you’ll like it though!”

Pausing, you frown down at him. “Why wouldn’t I?” When Namjoon doesn’t meet your gaze, you rest against your heels, trying to meet his eyes. “Joonie, why wouldn’t I like it?”

Namjoon just shrugs, unable to come up with an answer. “...I dunno...”

Slowly, you reach out to grab his hands. Once you’ve successfully pulled his hands onto your lap, you offer him a soft smile. “You’re still Namjoon, right?”

He blinks, finally looking up at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“You’re still Kim Namjoon?”

“Er...yeah, but-”

“RM?”

“Yes, but jagi-”

“You’re still my Joon?”

Cheeks bright red, Namjoon nods. “Yeah...I’m your Joon.”

“Good. I like you with tennis-ball yellow hair-” Namjoon chuckles knowingly, “and snow-cone blue hair. Long hair and poofed up hair with shades on.” Sighing, you look down at your joined hands. “I’ll still like you even if you want to keep that baseball hat on for the rest of your life, although though I wouldn’t recommend it. It’d probably get a little itchy.”

Namjoon’s dimples make an appearance as he scrunches his nose. “Gross.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

Sighing, Namjoon looks up at you with wide eyes. “I just...I really love this haircut. It’s my favorite.” You nod encouragingly at him, and he continues. “But I know how much you loved my longer hair, you know, when it was like an ashy blond...and it’ll grow out in no time-”

“Joon.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re like a stupid amount of hot no matter what.”

He bursts out laughing, some of his previous embarassment fading. “Oh, I thought you were going to say something sentimental, like ‘I love you’ or something.”

Rolling your eyes, you press a kiss to his cheek before before back and winking. “Can I see your favorite haircut?”

“Promise you’ll tell me if you hate it?”

“Promise.”

“Yah,” he flicks your nose, making you jolt back. “You’re crossing your fingers behind your back, aren’t you?”

Now it’s your turn to act a little sheepish, giggling as you place both hands back on your lap. “...no.”

Still chuckling, he removes his baseball cap in one smooth, quick action. Running his fingers through his hair-

His short, very short hair. 

An involuntary gasp leaves your mouth, and you bring your hand up to touch it before pausing and glancing at Namjoon. He arches a brow, the arrogant action so at odds with his blush. 

“Joonie, you look so cute,” you coo, fingers practically buzzing with wanting to reach out and feel how his hair must feel. 

“Cute? You just said a second ago that I looked hot-”

“Shhh, can I touch it now? Please?” You stare at him with open adoration, making his face burn even hotter.

“Yah, fine! You can touch my hair, just quit looking at me like that.”

Cackling, you leap forward to run your fingers through his hair. Wrapping your arms around his neck you scratch at the shortest spot at the back of his head. “I can’t help it, it just looks so fluffy!” 

“It’s short, how can it be fluf- yah! I told you to quit looking at me like that!” Namjoon shouts, laughing in embarrassment. 

“Like what? Like I love you?” You pay him no mind, smiling at him as you situate yourself on his lap in order to more comfortably scratch the back of his head. “See, now you understand! This is how you look at me, and I don’t even appear with cute new haircuts all the time! I go easy on you, you punk!”

Still laughing, Namjoon places a peck on your arm before raising his hands to form an imaginary camera. Squinting one eye shut, he focuses in on you. 

“Click.”

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thanks for reading! if you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging so other people can read it! 💖

permanent taglist: @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797  @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall @miriamxsworld​ @kayahay​ @secretlycrazyhummingbird​ @marianeamine @hqtetsurou​ @protontippens @beginwithamin @limiworld  @jeonyoongi-jimin @buttvi​ @yoontaethings​ @sunshinejunghoseokie​ @delacyrose224​ @jiminiesmagicshop​ @hitsussi @fanfictonreader05 @hyungieyoongi​ @lvpersona @what-is-sukh-thinking​  @shiningmoonchild7​ @preciouschimine​

#bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon #kim namjoon #bts fluff #namjoon fluff #rm #rm fluff #bts rm #bts namjoon #castlebangtan #namjoon oneshot #bts slice of life au #bts established relationship au #namjoon established relationship au #boyfriend!namjoon #boyfriend!bts #bts dating au

[hotdamnhunnam]

Congrats again on 2K. i’m so happy for you ❤️

For the emojis: 🔥☕️🚧

For the character: Jax, i feel like those emojis have a Jax vibe

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! And thanks for the congrats! 💗

..................................................

Roadblocks Don’t Suck

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, car sex (quick & rough, light choking, Jax’s leather gloves (they’re a whole kink)) Word Count: ~1.4k Emoji Prompt: 🔥☕️🚧 (key words are in bold)

Jax Teller is a lot of things. Pussy-whipped isn’t one of them, but somehow when you ask for things he gives in to a ton of them. On some level in his alpha male soul that sort of stings.

He’s in the driver’s seat grumpy and grumbling like a five-year-old. You’re really in the driver’s seat with all the power that you hold, over the prince of Charming, destined to be king.

He lights a cigarette. The little flame matches his mood flickering sharply with resentment and regret, that he had caved to what you said.

“How’s your goddamn coffee,” he snaps, bitter and full of sass. Gruffly, to hide the fact that you can turn him into such a goddamn softie.

“It’s fucking lovely,” you proclaim, taking another sip and gloating without shame. This morning you’d asked Jax to drive your car to where the two of you are headed, rather than taking his Harley as he typically prefers instead. You wanted to sit comfortably with your coffee and finish up the book you’ve almost fully read.

He doesn’t know yet you were also hoping you could give him road head.

“Fuck!” Jax suddenly rasps as he steps on the brake just when you reach the end of your book, causing you to look up out the windshield in shock. It’s just a bit of bad traffic but your man sounds as furious as if your car was hit by a damn truck. “Ugh, there’s a fucking roadblock. This shit fucking sucks.”

Jax really just can’t deal with traffic at a standstill. He is seething, heavy breathing, living proof that looks can kill.

Glimpse flashing lights and obstacles with slanted black and yellow stripes to mark construction that’s in progress up ahead. Prince Fuming grits his bright white teeth around his cigarette like he wants someone dead. Possibly you. “See, bitch if we were on my bike I could’ve just driven right through…”

“Would you just stop? Here, I’ll give you a handjob,” you decide, casting your finished paperback off to the side. Sometimes—a lot of times—you’d rather make Jax Teller cum than hear him talk. “Shut up, just sit back and enjoy your smoke and let me stroke your cock.”

“What are we, fifteen-year-old kids? You’ll grab my dick and let me grope your tits?” he laughs, as you reach in his jeans to grip and squeeze his massive shaft. “Get down and suck.”

You take your hands out of his pants and cross your arms over your chest tightly, to tell him no such luck. “Maybe I would have if you’d asked nicely, you bossy little fuck.”

“You love it when I’m bossy.” Jax is well aware that his dominance gets you wet and juicy. “Know it hits you in your kinky little pussy.”

“You don’t know shit about my kinks,” you lie.

“You think?” he challenges with a dark glimmer in his eye. The heat of hell behind his smile. Glances out the window at the standstill traffic and decides to put the car in park so he can make this goddamn ride worthwhile.

Asking nicely isn’t really Jax’s style.

You can act like you don’t want it but there’s no point in denial. Every goddamn thing about him drives you wild.

When he wants something he takes it—bends your will to fight him off and fucking breaks it—snaps a finger and you’re naked—he makes sure you want it wholeheartedly too—but that shit’s never hard to do.

He always has you spouting off a senseless stream of oh God Jesus Christ Jax yes fuck yes in two seconds or less. Knows he’s your ever-living weakness. Face you see when you scream Jesus. Knows you’re his to play with any way he pleases. Knows just what buttons to press, to get his girl to be a wet whimpering mess.

Has you spread out on the backseat, shaking in heat, as he strips off your summer dress. Stays fully clothed because he knows it’s fucking torture when he doesn’t let you cleave against the smooth skin of his chest. Settle for clutching at the leather of his vest. The leather Jax Teller wears best.

Or is it…? Though you’ve never mentioned this before, Jax saw the sparkle in those pretty eyes of yours, when you watched his hands on the steering wheel clad in his leather gloves and thought that shit’s fucking exquisite.

To be honest it’s ridiculous that he’d wear leather gloves to drive a car. Today’s ride isn’t even far. You know it’s just so he can feel more like he’s riding on his Harley and it’s dumb as fuck but you don’t care about that given what a slut you are. Jax in the leather of his kutte is hot enough—but these damn gloves… they have you seeing fucking stars…

You’d wanted him to push your head deep in his lap while you bent down to suck him off. Feeling the smooth warmth of the leather in your hair and on your cheeks as you devoured his enormous cock and showered it with love.

He’d like that very fucking much, without a doubt, but in this moment he would rather see your gorgeous glowing face than have it buried in his crotch. More in the mood to fuck your pussy than your mouth. He wants to watch, the way your inner slut is spinning out—surrenders to his touch… the way your features melt, descending into ecstasy past anything you’ve ever fucking felt… as he traces his thumb across your bottom lip with one hand while the other frames your hips—taking you in his leather grip—tight as a belt, sharp as a whip.

And it’s insane the way it makes your pussy drip. Your brain is on a fucking trip. Can leather get you fucking pregnant? On the road the traffic’s still completely stagnant, but your man will have to get back in the driver’s seat again soon once the cars begin to move. There’s not a lot of time to get into the groove. No time for fun and games and foreplay—just a frantic feral fuck here on the freeway—love and lust one and the same to make and take when you two have nothing to prove.

Outside of sex, you know that it’s your job as Jax Teller’s old lady to continually kick his ego down a couple pegs. But it’s a different fucking story when he’s hovering above you and all set to shove his meat into the aching soaking heat between your legs.

A piece of prey for him to eat. To read your body as it breaks and burns and begs. Jax is the undisputed king when he has you spread in his bed or the backseat. And as his leather-clad hand wraps around your throat you gasp at how it feels so sweet because you know what’s coming next…

He applies just the perfect pressure and oh fuck you’ve never felt such perfect pleasure.

You can feel his power pouring through the leather. You can feel it pounding through your blood, as he plows deep inside your pulsing cunt, that fucking instant, with a savage fucking grunt, rock hard as he drives home and hits a flood, ‘cause you’ve never been wetter. You’re his fucking slut. Forever.

Two or three bucks of his hips—he sucks the prayer of his name off of your lips—tightens that leather fucking grip—your grip on consciousness begins to fucking slip…

Just came undone, though this had only just begun. He spills inside you that same second and you’re both sprawled on the seat sex-dumb and drunk.

Two seconds later all the cars outside decide to fucking honk.

He really doesn’t give a fuck. You’re both so bulldozed by the love you made you probably wouldn’t notice if this steamy little car of yours got totaled by a truck. Honk all they want for all you care—the two of you are far beyond the world out there—you’re stuck in heaven with no plans to come unstuck.

Maybe try fucking one more time to piss off everyone outside and push your luck.

Jax reads your mind because it’s his. Leather glove soft around your throat now as he smiles through a cigarette-and-coffee-flavored kiss. “Maybe roadblocks don’t suck.”

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Emoji Fic Masterlist

Emoji Fic Tag List – below; if you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

@happyhunnams @band--psycho @est11 @edonaspanca @starbooty @innerpaperexpertcloud @i-love-scott-mccall @six-camelot @alexa-rae-dreamz @coffeebooksandfandom @thesuicidalflower @flaireandsynch @helloheyhihowdyheya @gemini0410 @waywardodysseys @zozebo @bettergetusetoit @emilykjh @little-diable @rocketqueen @mrspeacem1nusone @miss-smutty @rayslittlekitten @abby-splace @chubbychubbs28 @miraclesoflove @tegggeeee @hunnambabe @missusnora @kesskirata @vixenrebellion @thexhostess @pomegranatearildreams @kandii395 @severewobblerlightdragon @itspdameronthings @niki-xie @cind-in-real-life @saweetspoiled @poge-life @few-proud-emotonal @samanthaisnthome @melodranas @soaharleys @charlie-hunnams-old-lady @simpmasterjr @nataliewalker93 @lovebarefootblonde @marvelousmermaid @tsukuyomi011 @sciapod

#jax teller #sons of anarchy #soa #charlie hunnam #jax teller smut #sons of anarchy smut #soa smut #charlie hunnam smut #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #charlie hunnam imagine #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #soa fanfiction #charlie hunnam fanfiction #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x you #emoji fics

[havenoffandoms]

72 for Geralt/Jaskier?

I meant to post this a lot earlier... sorry about the wait, nonnie. I hope you like it anyway. I'm not sure how it came out in the end after I agonised over this for the past couple of days, but it was fun going back to my Geraskier roots.

Masterlist

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier

Prompt 72: Character A has a secret. Character B does whatever they can to find out what it is. When they find out, they wish they hadn't.

Warnings: brief angsty episode, mention of Geralt's traumatic childhood

Also, I love that art! Holy Shit!? So of course this had to feature before the fic <3

Travelling with Jaskier had its downfalls.

For one, the bard talks a lot. He never stops, not even in his sleep, and that would drive any man insane if you ask Geralt. He listens to Jaskier waffling about poetry all day, every day, he doesn’t have to endure a lecture on the benefits of iambic pentameters when he’s trying to fall asleep, thank you very much. Jaskier also likes to complain about every little thing that causes him discomfort, which when they’re on the path, ranges from fly bites all the way to sore feet. Travelling with a human also means that they travel considerably slower, unless they’re both riding on top of Roach, but Geralt doesn’t like putting his best girl under that kind of strain very often.

For all of Jaskier’s flaws, Geralt would hate to have to separate from his bard. At least, when Jaskier is close by, Geralt can keep an eye on him and make sure Jaskier doesn’t get himself into any unnecessary trouble. Having Jaskier travel with him gives Geralt peace of mind. He appreciates the singing as well, even if he could stand to tell Jaskier this a bit more often. Geralt deems that his bard’s ego is plenty inflated without Geralt making it worse. Not to mention that life always seems a little bit brighter when Jaskier is around, and the nights are a little less lonely as Geralt gets to pull his bard close and fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart. Knowing that Jaskier is safe is the only thing that lets Geralt sleep peacefully at night.

You’d think that after nearly two decades of knowing his bard, Geralt would have figured out Jaskier’s secret by now. Geralt is, of course, referring to Jaskier’s near supernatural ability to always come up with coin when he and Geralt need it most urgently. Geralt has no idea how the bard does it - his songs are popular, granted, and on a good night Jaskier makes enough to buy a nice room for the night and the better pieces of meat from the kitchen. Still, being a bard doesn’t pay that well, not even if you were as famous as Jaskier. Just last week, Geralt’s horse and most of his belonging were stolen by bandits, leaving Geralt travelling on foot and too poor to afford to buy a new horse. Two days later, Jaskier came trotting up to their camp atop a gorgeous mare, looking mighty pleased with himself but refusing to tell Geralt how he managed to afford to pay for the horse.

“Would you believe me if I told you I stole her, Geralt, my dear?”

“Not in a million years,” Geralt admitted deadpan, pulling an offended squawk from his songbird.

“Just because I’m a bard you don’t think I can steal a horse?”

“I don’t think you could ever steal a horse because you’re as stealthy as the proverbial bull in the porcelain shop.”

It’s not just the horse, though. Geralt’s armour needed replacing and good armour doesn’’t come cheaply. Geralt doesn’t hire the services of just any blacksmith or armourer to craft his weapons and protective gear. He has his regular suppliers, the ones he always goes back to because he knows that their work is reliable and of the highest quality. And even though these people know Geralt by now, even offer him a friends and family discount on occasion, their wares still come at a hefty price. Geralt, as it turns out, didn’t have the coin to replace his armour for a few months. He desperately needed new boots, though. A new pair of breeches wouldn’t hurt either, and his silver sword broke in half whilst fighting a particularly vicious griffin a few weeks back.

Geralt didn’t even mention all of this to Jaskier. That didn’t stop the bard from going ahead and commissioning a brand new suit of armour, new silver and steel swords, as well as a few casual clothes for Geralt to wear on the warmer summer days. All of this must have cost an arm, a leg and a fucking lung, and yet Jaskier acted like he didn’t just break the bank all for Geralt’s benefit. He didn’t even get anything for himself and that realisation had Geralt feeling slightly embarrassed about the gesture.

“You don’t have to buy me all this stuff, Jask.”

“I know that, dearest,” Jaskier assured him, eyes soft and an easy smile playing on his lips, “but I wanted to. Only the best for you, my sweet witcher.”

The mystery of where Jaskier managed to find the coin to pay for all this remains unsolved, despite Geralt’s questioning. Well, if Jaskier won’t outright tell him, then Geralt will just have to investigate the matter by himself.

"Where the fuck did you get your hand on all the coin to pay for all this?" Geralt asks one evening, blunt and straight to the point. There was probably a kinder and gentler way to ask this, but after spending weeks mulling over Jaskier's sudden new-found fortune, Geralt has lost the little patience he possessed in the matter. Jaskier, on the other hand, looks perfectly unperturbed.

"From the bank," he offers simply as he sprinkles expensive herbs over the hare Geralt caught earlier that evening, "you know, where people deposit their valuables? I know you witchers don't believe in bank accounts, savings and interests, but-"

"Where does the coin come from?" Geralt interrupts, hissing those words through clenched teeth.

"Why, my inheritance."

Geralt stares for a long while. It takes his brain several seconds to catch up to what Jaskier is telling him, and another few seconds to make sense of the words. Inheritance?

"What inheritance?"

"Well, when my father passed away he left me and my siblings a share of his wealth. That's how inheritance works. Say, pass me my satchel my dear, I think I have some more spices in there."

Geralt wordlessly hands Jaskier his satchel, still trying to process this new discovery. Come to think of it, Geralt knows precious little about Jaskier's family. Sure, that's probably on him for never asking, but Geralt has grown so used to Jaskier oversharing every aspect of his life that he never needed to ask his bard anything. Jaskier just… never talked about his family. Or his childhood, or his upbringing. His life story seems to always begin when he was a student at Oxenfurt.

Geralt is growing curiouser by the minute.

"When did your father pass?"

"Oh? Uh… good question. Maybe a few years after I went to Oxenfurt? I'm not sure. I received a letter from the bank notifying me that a share of my father's wealth was deposited in my account."

Geralt frowns. "You never went back to find out what happened?"

"No."

Well, that's an oddly abrupt response, and Jaskier doesn't seem like he's got anything to say on the matter. Which only makes Geralt feel more curious about the whole thing.

"Why not?"

"Geralt…" Jaskier heaves a sigh before putting on a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, too tense to be genuine. "My father and I didn't get along. I felt no need to go mourn him with the rest of my noble family in Lettenhove when he passed. That's it. That's all there's to it. I was not a good enough man to refuse my share of the inheritance, either, despite my non-existent relationship with him."

That's a lot to unpack. Geralt always assumed that Jaskier had a good childhood. Then again, he would think that, wouldn't he, considering Geralt spent his own childhood being tortured by magnanimous and sadistic mages. Where most children got to spend time outside helping out in the fields or playing with their friends, Geralt was put through drill after drill, after drill… until he was physically unable to walk so much his muscles hurt.

"Wait… did you say your noble family?"

"Hm?"

"In Lettenhove… there's nothing in Lettenhove. Only the Viscount and his family live there on a large esta-" Geralt's mouth clicks shut as realisation dawns on him. "Your father was the Viscount of Lettenhove?"

"Yes. And since I'm the oldest, after he died that title passed onto me. But I much prefer being a bard, so I graciously devolved my duties to my younger brother, who now manages the estate. Are we done with this conversation?"

"I didn't mean to make you mad…"

Geralt watches Jaskier stop dead in his tracks, his shoulders briefly tensing at those words, before exhaling loudly through his nose. Jaskier anxiously rubs the back of his neck as he straightens up and offers Geralt a sheepish smile, that one warmer and softer than the previous one.

"Sorry, dear heart. I didn't mean to be so short with you. It's just… well, there's a reason I don't bring up my family all that much."

"Hm." Geralt gently taps the spot next to him on his bedroll, and Jaskier doesn't have to be told twice. Soon, Geralt has one arm wound tightly around Jaskier's shoulders. Not quite a hug, but the intention is there all the same, and Jaskier eagerly melts in the embrace. "I shouldn't have insisted. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise. You did nothing wrong." Jaskier nuzzles the crook of Geralt's neck sweetly before depositing a featherlight kiss just over his pulse point. "Do you want to ask me anything?"

Geralt ponders over that question far too long before whispering an answer in the air pocket between them.

"Did he hurt you?"

Jaskier hesitates.

"Not physically, no. He didn't approve of my aspirations and choices. He didn't support me. I suppose it hurt a little when he didn't see me away to Oxenfurt at the age of 15, but he never raised a hand on me."

"Hm." Good, Geralt thinks. No child should ever have to suffer at the hand of an adult. Geralt earned plenty a beating at Kaer Morhen, some justified and others not so much. Just because he went through this doesn't mean he condones it.

"At least I get to spend his money on someone I love," Jaskier offers softly, eyes as blue as the deepest ocean glancing up at Geralt through dark lashes, “That, at least, the old man can’t take away from me.”

A happy little rumble bubbles up Geralt's chest, despite the blush gracing his cheeks.

"I never thanked you for the gifts." Geralt blushes a deeper shade of red at the realisation. "Sorry. It's been a long year."

"Well, good thing we're heading North soon then, hm?" Jaskier straightens up so he can cradle Geralt's face in his lute-calloused hands. Their eyes meet then, amber seeking out blue, and Geralt thinks that he must be the luckiest son of a bitch in all the Continent.

"Yes," he agrees in a whisper, tilting his face to place a kiss on the inside of Jaskier's wrist, "good thing, indeed."

Request a prompt

#havenwrites #the witcher #wiedzmin #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #the witcher geralt #geralt #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #dandelion #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt/jaskier #jaskier/geralt #dandelion x geralt #geralt/dandelion #request open

[miraculous-trinity-leo]

Whacky Gotham, Goofy New York, and Chaotic Paris

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Chapter 3: Kindred Spirits Always Find A Way To Assemble

•—–—–†–—–—•

Time: 5:30am

location: Louvre

Ladybug, Abeille, Bunnyx, Trickster, and Chat Noir are fighting an akuma, not anything major, just Mr. Pigeon and his pigeons trying to melt the Louvre with deadly acidic bird dropings, so yeah, nothing major. Just another early bird gets the akuma kinda day...

"Looks like the early bird is trying to melt the Louvre, what say you M'lady, shall we make this swift and- *Loud sneeze* Let me now *sneeze* when I'm *sneeze* needed" - Chat Noir

"For to long our kind has been oppressed, they feed us miserable seeds, when we beg for bread, we shall show them no mercy, as our justice shall be swift!" picks up two pigeons, holds them by their legs and aims the rear cannons "Surrender your Miraculous and your justice shall be swift and painless!!" with an evil villain laugh at the end bla bla bla.

" Anyone else getting Pigeon (French) Revolution vibes? No? just me? Cause I swear he said seeds instead of cake."

"Not the time Bunnyx." - Abeille

"Oh it so Is The Time." - Bunnyx

"Off with Mr. Pigeon Antoinette's Akumatized object!" - Chat Noir from a distance.

"Viva La Revolution!!!" - Trickster

"Dear Kwami, how did it come to a frickin Pigeon Revolution?!" - Ladybug

As the last line is said, Mr. Pigeon fires the -ehem- cannons at the heroes, only for them to be an illusion. In the confusion Bunnyx pops out of her burrow and wacks Mr. Pigeon on the head, effectively knocking him out.

"The Pigeon Revolution is over, we have taken back our home, and shall continue to defend it from the creepy Man of MOTH!!!!" - Bunnyx

and with that Bunnyx brakes the Akumatized object, and Ladybug purifies the akuma.

"Ok, I will admit that last speach was funny, now lets hurry back before hells bells go off." - Ladybug

•~—~—~—~—~—~—~•

" Bla bla bla, nothing important, bla bla bla bla, yada yada yada bla yada." - Mrs. Bustier

"'Viva La Revolution', that was perfect." - Whispering Alix

"It just came to me, but Chats 'Off with Mr. Pigeon Antoinette's Akumatized object' line and your 'Man of Moth' speech were really well timed !" -whispering Peter

"well of course, I'm always punctual with any time sensitive joke/pun." -whispering Alix

"Will you to zip it! we can't have these simpletons finding anything out!" -whispering Chloé

"Please, they all share a broken defective regect of a brain cell, I doubt they could ever put two and two together." -whispering Alix

"Hey, do you think we should start a protest in our classroom?" -whispering Peter

"... Viva.La.Revolution!" - whispering Chloé with a mischievous grin

"No." - Maria

•~—~—~—~ Later when Mrs. Bustier is out of class ~—~—~—~•

"I just don't know what to do." - Lie-la

" You think she finally realized how horrible that hair style is?" - Alix

"After visiting Gotham a few months ago I met Damian Wayne, you might've heard about him, he's just so amazing, kind-hearted, and brave. We had a wonderful time, but then he asked me out! And I don't want to hurt Parkers feelings, I care for both of them!" - Lie-la

"Man, she must be extremely full of it to keep pulling that sh-t out of her @ss every hour or so." - Alix

"Wow Peter, didn't know your cared for Ms. Rossi like that" - Chloé said in a sarcastic tone.

" I'd rather strap her to a supersonic rocket heading for a black hole, and I'm pretty sure this Damian Wayne would do the same... he probably has the money for it actually." - Peter

" Enough plotting, we still need to get enough money, if we want that summer trip, we've already crossed off: Baking sales, becoming a mime, jobs are out unless they're fine with you leaving right after joining, and we can't just ask for donations." - Maria

" I can use my MDC mon-" - Maria

"Oh hell no you won't! You worked your butt off to get that money, you said it yourself! That money is for when you apply to college! I refuse to let you waste your money on our ignoramus classmates!" - Chloé

Thankfully by now everyone was out of the classroom.

" Oh Kwami she's serious, she never uses her big words!" - Adrien

" Then what do you suggest Chloé?" - Maria

" I'll ask daddy to pay!" - Chloé

" I can also ask my father, he'll probably do it if Mr. Bourgeois puts in a donation." - Adrien

" But- " - Maria

" No! The decision is final all in agreement say aye!" - Chloé

"Aye!" - Everyone

"You've watched to many movies Chloé, fine, but please don't drastically overdo it." - Maria

" When have I ever drastically overdone something? Name one time." - Chloé

"Well, there was the time you over did it, by not sleeping for almost three weeks." - Maria

" and after that you got so fed up with one akuma that you kicked him with the force of a thousand suns down unda, you may have scared him for life after that honestly. " - Adrien

" Oh! or the time you went overboard with Peters B-day, and the cake landed on his face! - Alix

"Well in her defense, the cake was great, but it was kinda a mouthful." -Peter

"... I said name one time. (ー_ー)" - Chloé

•~—~—~—~—~—~—~•

Sooo, after all that happened Mr. Bourgeois, Fallowed by Gabriel Agreste, gave a very generous donation, so that solves that problem.And since I'm sure you don't want to see (More Lies) boring stuff, lets skip to two days before the trip begins.

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜time skip " You're welcome, I'm here all eternity." - Bunnyx〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

•—–· At Chloés Hotel ·–—•

"Ok are we sure we have everything?" - Maria

" Yes now can we please watch something already, we've triple, and even quadruple checked everything, we're good." - Alix

" I have to go out and inform Tempête and Vipère, before anything else, be back soon." - Maria then heads out calling upon the other heroes.

" So what do you need?" - Vipère

" Do you have a top secret mission for us?" - Tempête

" For the summer Abeille, Bunnyx, Trickster, and Chat Noir will be unavailable, unless they are truly needed, I however will be able to travel back and forth via portals for fights. Paris will be in your care while we aren't here." - Ladybug

"It is our honor, we shall defend Paris with our lives." - Tempête

" Agreed, enjoy your summer." - Vipère

"Thank you, stay safe."  and with that Maria headed back to the hotel prepared to watch movies, only to be bombarded with questions as soon as she got back.

" HOLD UP! You know MAGIC?!" - Alix

" When were you going to tell us?!" - Chloé

"So cool, how does it work?" - Peter

" Can you teach us?!" - Adrien

" Spots-Off, yes I know magic, I swear I've told you before. Do you want a demonstration?" - Maria

They all shook their heads excitedly.

" Ok well, I'm able to Heal myself if I get hurt, but I don't wish to hurt myself just for that, I can also increase my Luck with magic, as well as Communicate/ Manipulate plants, and see peoples Souls, thanks to Tikki. I learned Protection magic thanks to Wayzz, and Illusion magic thank  to Trixx. I'm also learning Teleportation from Kaalki, which I've almost completed, and Mutitude from Mullo, which still needs work." - Maria

" If you can really talk to plants, what did we do earlier while you where out, hmmmmm?" - Alix

Maria then walks over to the roses near the couch and whispers to them, after a moment she turns back to her friends, and calmly says "Traitors."

" What do you mean?" - Peter

" You continued watching Star Wars: Clone Wars Without me!" - Maria

" Ok we believe you, but does this mean we can also use magic?" - Adrien

"Hmmm, let me see" as she says this her eyes start to glow an almost ethereal icy blue.

" Why are you eyes glowing?" - Chloé

"Looking at you souls... ok" she then claps her hands and her eyes go back to normal "Adrien, you can use slight Destruction magic on objects, if you use it on a person it would just cause them extreme pain, you can also cast Bad Luck on someone, so I guess thats good, and you can also learn slight Jubilation magic. Peter you can learn Illusion, and Protection magic. Chloé you can Learn Subjection, and Multiplication magic. And Alix, you can learn Evolution, Intuition, and Teleportation magic." As Maria finished, she saw the star struck looks in their eyes at the thought of learning magic became obtainable for them.

"Teach us!" they all bowed only to get a laugh from Maria in response.

"You would have to ask the Kwamis that, I only know what I know thanks to them." - Maria

And for most of the night they all started practicing magic. And when they woke up, they continued to practice, they had fun and were really enjoying it.

Then came the day Maria and her friends were to head for Gotham, and it was hectic, but everyone made it in one piece after an 8 hour flight, which at this point Maria was glad she sent all of her important luggage ahead of time, because somehow her luggage with only her toiletries and pyjamas was stolen, so all she had now was her back pack on her and the Miracle box in a Pocket dimension (thanks to the training from Fluff and Kaalki)

Lila was annoyed, when Maria didn't even care that she lost her bag with all her stuff (jokes on you she sent that one to the hotel 2 days ago HA!) they ended up checking into the hotel, everyone was with someone, Peter was with Adrien, Chloé was with Alix, and Maria... just had the Kwamis, yup that's right, apparently Lila has a condition that prevents her from being in any room below a quality vip room, so now she was upgrade and without a roommate, good for Lila, and Lucky for Maira, because now she doesn't have to worry about someone noticing her climbing out the window to go free-running across rooftops as Multimouce.

Around 7:30 pm. everyone heads out for lunch... and they leave Maria behind.

"Of course this happens." and with that she asked the receptionist for the directions to where her class went, afterwards she went out and proceeded to get lost, after trying to retrace her steps, she just got lost quicker, and her phone was at 20% what luck.

After walking for a little bit, she had decided to take a break, and as she leaned up against a wall, she closed her eyes.

'Maybe if I search for the receptionists Soul I can find my way back.' as she was doing this, she saw souls of all colors walking by, she even noticed a dark emerald green soul, and a dark blue soul across the street on a rooftop... and then she felt her hair stand on end, a few feet to her right was a bloody rust looking soul, she could tell it was a male, late 20s, average build, and 5'11, he was targeting her. As she opened her eyes  she did a quick scan of her seroundings, noticing an alley, she started to walk again. Sensing the slight increase in speed from the man now behind her, as he got closer, she made a sharp left into the alley, she made it a few feet in before the man started laughing and walking closer, she saw the disgusting look in his eyes, and the outline of a gun in his front left pocket.

"Come on now girlie,  I just wanna talk."

" I am good thankz." she made sure to add an accent to make him feel like he had an upper hand, which seemed to work, if his sickening smile was anything to go off of.

He stepped closer and Maria (the little genius she was) decided to act nervous, which only lowered the guys gaurd even more, once he reached to grab her in a quick motion she proceeded to do this.

She held the guy in a lock until he fell unconscious. As she stood up, she noticed a hand reaching for her, she then grabbed the hand and flipped the figure over her shoulder hard, hearing a yelp from the man as she did so.

When she realized who she had flipped over, her face turned bright red

"Mon dieu, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you are you ok Monsieur Nightwing?!"

"Yeah I'm fine and don't apologize, reflexes like that are key to survival here in Gotham, isn't that right Robin.... Robin?"

When Nightwing didn't get any sound from Robin he looked over to see the boy a blushing mess, then Robin snaped out of it, cuffing the mugger, and turning his attention to the girl.

" Ehem. Mam it's dangerous to be out here at this time alone, please allow us to take you wherever you need to go." - Robin

"Oh thank you um, do you know where Wayne Hotel is? I was supposed to go with my class to dinner, but they... “forgot” me, I decided to try and meet up with them, but I failed horribly." - Maria

"Wait they just left you? and in Gothan of all cities?! What kind of teacher does that?!" - Nightwing

" An instegator." - Maria said under her breath in French, she didn't notice the slight shock on both their faces from what she said.

"Anyway lets get you to your hotel before it gets any later." - Nightwing

"Thank you again." - Maria

She arrived safely, thanks to Nightwing and Robin, she thanked them one more time and went inside, when she got to her room she found her friends pacing back and forth in the room, Chloé and Peter looking like they would soon become two people on a mission to find her, but thankfully she was back, she of course had to answer alot of questions, but that was no big deal. After answering all their questions, everyone went to their rooms, and fell asleep, they had a big day tomorrow afterall... ... and then Marias' Akuma alert went off, ok so it took about thirty minutes to defeated the akuma 2 more before she could cure anything and another 5 minutes before she could head back to her room, and it was now 2am, but she could still wake up early right? hehe (・–・;) right?

No, the answer was no she couldn't, well technically she was up on time for when the bus "should" have started getting ready to leave, BUT turns out Lila SOMEHOW, managed to get everyone on board without even thinking of her an hour early! Maria asked for directions once again, and the receptionist had a worried and apologetic look on her face, Maria thanked her again, and headed out, this time however, she made it without getting lost and without getting mugged, Yay! She even had enough time to get a coffe (Tim special was a wierd name but oh well it did the job pretty well) from a shop near by (double yay!) before entering the WE building.

" You have to start the tour! we've been here for an hour and thirty minutes already!" - Ms. Bustier

"Like I said before, I will not start the tour until your student gets back, and if they don't get back, then we better hope nothing happened to them, or else it's your fault for your negligence." - Tour guide

"Sorry I'm late, the bus left earlier than what we scheduled, why didn't you inform me about the change?" - Maira

"Lila said you were the one who made the changes and that you were just trying to get attention, I am VERY disappointed in you Maria, now apologize to your class for delaying the tour!" - Ms Bustier

"I think you mean “I'm sorry we left you behind in a city where murder happens to young kids on a daily basis” now you apologize to Your student that is Your responsibility." - Tour Guide with a glare that could kill a thousand armys

Ms. Bustier proceeded to apologise to half the class's disbelief.

"Alright then, now that thats all taken care of, Hello and welcome to Wayne Enterprise, where we focus on making Gotham and the world a better place. I'm Dick Grayson, and I'll be you tour guide for today."

As the tour went on Maria stood at the front with her friends, she took notes of everything that was said, and she ignored whatever nonsense Lila was spouting, somthing about saving or dating Damian Wayne, she didn't really care.

When the lunch break came, she sat with her friends until she needed a long overdo refill on her coffee, she walked over to the coffee machine and started figuring what combination will keep her brain working for the rest of the day.

"Press button 3 followed by 5, 6, 8, 1, 2, 4, 9, and 7, that is the ultimate coffee mixture, if your mortal self is up for the challenge." - Sleep deprived guy

"I accepte." she presses the buttons in the exact order and then " Wait none of the cups are big enough."

"Here, secrect cup, from beyond the mortal realm." - Sleep deprived guy

" Thanks" she grapped the very large cup, and filled it with coffee till it was almost to the rim, she put the lid on and instantly took a big sip from the scolding hot coffee (she can heal, her tongue's fiiiiiiine)

"... Not bad, taste similar to the Tim Special I had earlier, but maybe a bit stronger." - Maria

" Kindred Spirit, let us be friends, you have drank the sacred coffee and are now immortal, congrats." - Sleep deprived guy

"It was not easy, but I have come this far, and I shall go the distance with nothing but coffee in my veins." Maria said in a serious tone as they shook hands "I am Maria, keeper of all nighters, and who might you be, my kindred spirit."

"I am Tim, the keeper of sacred coffee and all that is unholy."

"It was an honor to meet you Sacred Tim, may the coffee gods guide you in your journey, sadly we must part ways, for the lunch break is over, farewell..." and with that Maria left to rejoin the group.

"Dear god where the hell did you get that much coffee?!" - Chloé

"Kindred Spirits always find a way to assemble." - Maria

"Huh, so there is someone out there who is also a sleep deprived child." - Alix

The tour continued, and Maria noticed their tour guide kept looking at her with growing concern as she slowly made her way through the lovely coffee, she finished the cup within 1 hour and 30 minutes, and most of the staff kept looking at her as she now held the empty unholy cup, that was said to put people (that weren't chosen by the coffee gods) into caffeine induced commas, but she was fine, if anything she was more awake than yesterday and today combined. So yeah Today had a rocky start, but I'd say things are only just beginning.

•—–—–†–—–—•

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜 Bonus Art 〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

This is what it looks like from Marias' normal vision, to her Soul Vision (~‾▿‾)~

Chapter 3 completed, hope you're all having a wonderful day, and staying positive BUG-OUT 🐞💮🐞

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜 Tag List 〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

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@lupagrimm

#miraculous ladybug #damian x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous damian wayne #miraculous fanart #miraculous fanfic #damimari #damianette #chloé bourgeois #adrien agreste #peter parker #nightwing #robin #damian wayne #maridami #marinette dupen chang #tony stark #tim drake #richard grayson #class salt #fluff #mlb x marvel #mlb x dc #batfam #badass marinette #bunnyx #ladybug and chat noir #mlb crossover #maribat #Whacky Gotham Goofy New York and Chaotic Paris

[infernal-fire]

Love, At First Sight

Warnings: some extreme fluff, strong language/ swearing

Pairing(s): Ransom x you

Summary: Love, at first sight, doesn’t exist. And Ransom has never been proven otherwise.

Word Count: 1600

I was inspired to write this after reading “It Was Only A Kiss” by the Queen of fluff, smut, angst and everything in between: @navybrat817  :)

(This GIF does not belong to me)

Love at first sight. 

That is the most ridiculous thing Ransom had ever heard. And he has heard some bullshit. 

The only thing he could tell from looking at someone for the first time was whether they were of any use to him or not. So when Meg was rambling on about love, that too, at first sight, Ransom scoffed at the idea. He bit into his overpriced biscuit with a roll of his eyes, pausing the conversation that he was unwilling to entertain any longer. 

“You know what Ransom, I’m not surprised you’re dismissing the idea without even hearing it,” Meg challenged.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” he retorted, a bit amused by her slight outburst.

“If your parents bothered with you, maybe you would understand what it’s like to be loved by someone.”

Although he didn’t show it, it struck a chord in him. It wasn’t something he dared to complain about anymore, but there was a time he would have done anything for their affection. 

“Okay then, let’s hear this horseshit you’re spewing,” he replied, not breaking the façade of smugness.

“When you meet someone, your subconscious and unconscious mind pick up patterns in their behaviour, little mannerisms and anything it can get its hands on. Your conscious mind interprets that as vibes. So you get a bad vibe from someone, it’s ‘cause your mind recognizes it from somewhere else, someone you don’t like.” 

“And what does this have to do with love at first sight?” Ransom impatiently tapped his foot. 

“I have a theory that love, at first sight, is possible if you’re in tune with your intuition. You feel good vibes from someone, you ride with it. And there’s a possibility you’ll override the rational part of your brain that tells you that you can’t love someone right after meeting them,” she concluded. “But then again, this only works if you’re capable of loving someone. Otherwise, your brain has no one to reference,” she added. 

Ransom’s jaw clenched before he took in a breath.

“Like I said. Just a bunch of horseshit,” he said, getting up to leave. 

He called it horseshit but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It irked him that no matter how many girls he pulled, not one of them could make him feel the love had Meg described. He concluded that he was incapable of love because, of course,  that was the only plausible explanation.

It was a friend’s birthday. To say the least, he was not looking forward to it. He was in a rare mood to stay home and call it a night instead of getting his dick wet. Unfortunately, his presence was promised - he would rather not hear about this later so he did his future self a favour and got ready. 

His black pants were paired with a maroon sweater that cost a little less than his king-sized bed. A rose-gold watch adorned his wrist and he threw on his signature tan coloured coat. He didn’t want to go but he that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity to advertise his status. 

Walking into the party, he regretted his decision to come at all. The corners were brimming with drunk people, though it had been only 1 hour since the party started. Shrill and irritating voices rung through the air. As usual, girls of no substance clung to every word of the fabricated tales boys told. Despite this, the unsavoury circumstances invited him, called his name even. After all, this was the lifestyle he lived for. 

Taking in the scene before him, he strode down the room. His presence alone demanded respect and attention, both which he got a surplus of at these events.

His stride was abruptly halted when a figure crashed into him, spilling wine down his chest. Sure, it blended in with the sweater, but he was still pissed. Someone didn’t notice him, which caused them to bump into him and that rubbed him the wrong way. 

“Won’t you look where your going, for god fucking sake this is worth more than you,” he snapped at the unsuspecting girl. 

You had a mess of your own to take care of. Wine slipped down your dress, between your cleavage and onto your stomach. You were going to apologize but you heard his comment, paused your sentence to look up at him. 

Laughter echoed in the background and people called Ransom’s name but it was long forgotten when he saw you. 

Love, at first sight.

It didn’t seem so ridiculous anymore. 

The mere sight of you was a harsh contrast to the cruel world he has dealt with his entire life. It was like the universe wrapped and presented you as the embodiment of a second chance for his life. To think that love, at first sight, was ridiculous. 

Your beauty wasn’t something he understood. It wasn’t like the beauty he sought during the lonely hours of night, when he simply required a bedwarmer to ease the ache. It was memorable, almost like a blend of warm vibrancy; a feeling resembling that of the summer’s sun, kissed his skin ever so delicately. 

He thought he was dying for a second. His hands were tingly and would not ease up no matter how much he clenched and unclenched them. His heart dove straight to his stomach, refusing to come up for air as long as he continued to look at you.

You on the other hand, you were conflicted. You were going to give him a piece of your mind for talking to you like that but one look at him and you wanted to run away. It was too intense for you. 

His piercing stare mirrored the moon, melted and poured into the mould that he called eyes. His aura radiated coldness. Yet, you just knew that his hands would be as warm as a bonfire during a snowstorm. Being around him would be like the slight sting that you felt when winter’s breeze grazed your skin. That sting, no matter how painful, is rewarding when you consider his arms that would envelope you as a blanket. 

Momentarily looking into each others eyes, both of you knew. You just knew. You were both thinking the same thing. It felt like eons had passed since the wine spill but logically, you knew it had only been seconds.

“Don’t talk to me like that” you finally blurted. No matter how enamored you were with him, you needed to knock him down a few pegs. 

“I-I… I’m” 

“You’re?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he stuttered. He felt like he would never recover from this embarrassment. 

“I-uhm. It’s okay. I just…” you trailed off, realizing you weren’t even sure what to say. 

“Can we get out of here?” he piped up. 

It took you by surprise because you were thinking the same thing. You considered it too bold a thing to say but here he was. 

You held his wrist and led him out. As soon as you marched out the door, he pulled his arm up, and you assumed he was going to take it out of your grasp. He surprised you though, instead, holding your hand. 

The dress and the sweater became irrelevant; all either of you could focus on was the warm grip you both had on each other’s hands as you strolled through the overly extravagant neighbourhood. 

Part of your mind was screaming at yourself, as was his. He could kill you, you thought. Or do worse. And here you are, walking with a complete stranger through a neighbourhood you don’t even know.

“I thought you felt it too,” he confessed. “That’s why I... really, I don’t ever do this.” 

The old Ransom would have said ‘I know you felt it too.’ It hadn’t been ten minutes since you met him and you were already changing him. 

“I've never done this either. I mean frankly, you could be a murderer and here I am, holding you hand,” you joked. 

“I’m not a murderer,” he chuckled, “But I can’t help but feel a little weird about this.” You looked up at the moon-less night, convinced that it wasn’t a coincidence.

“I know… I-... I don’t even know your name,” you giggled and his heart fluttered around his chest. He couldn’t compare the feeling to butterflies - it was more like hummingbirds, refusing to settle.

“I felt something and it’s weird ‘cause I was so scared. I was scared and overwhelmed by this sort of dread. Dread that was like, what if you didn’t feel the same way?” you rambled, only slightly cautiously. You knew nothing of this man, and you were laying out how you felt in the open?

“My name is Ransom,” he stopped the stroll and faced you, picking up your other arm. 

“Y/N” you meekly responded, having difficulty meeting his eyes. You had never felt such a burn in your cheeks, yet right now, you felt like your face was on fire. 

“Hey, hey” he softly tilted you chin up. “Can we run with this? Whatever this is?” He would get on his knees and plead if he had to. Because you were right; he felt like he would die if you didn’t feel the same way. 

“Please. Let’s run with this. Whatever this is, let’s just run with it,” you agreed and nodded lightly, not breaking out of the stare.

“What is this?” he uttered under his breath and rested his forehead onto yours. 

You closed your eyes and breathed in the same air as him. His warmth and scent reminded you of sugar cookies and pine trees. 

He took in a breath and felt the aroma of vanilla and fresh roses evade his senses.

“I don’t know. But I like it,” you breathed. 

He cupped your face and pulled away to look at your face again. He planted a delicate but firm kiss to your forehead as you encased his waist with your arms, naturally gravitating towards him. He tenderly held your face as he pulled away. One look and you were a goner, but now, you’re utterly floored by the mere thought of him. 

Love, that too, at first sight.

Wasn’t horseshit after all.

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[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 17 of 27: Magical

Summary:  Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

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A/N: A few announcements - I took some time off these past two weeks because uni started again and I needed a little time to sort stuff out. Because of that I will from now on post one chapter per week. If sometimes I have time for two, then great, but one chapter per week is my goal for now. I hope that’s okay! Also you lovely people keep sending me song suggestions for this story (I wanna cry everytime you do that) and I compiled a little playlist. You can find it here if you don’t have spotify! I love you all so much! For now - enjoy the chapter! Words: 3.4k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, post war Warnings: ... making out, I guess?

“Draco …”, you sighed softly when his lips wandered down your neck. “We’ll be late …”

“Hmm,” the tone vibrated against your skin and his hot breath caused a shiver to run down your spine.

“We should really go,” you whispered.

“In a minute,” he replied, his eyes closed as his lips searched for yours. They met and his hands found your hips, pressing his body up against yours. You gasped but the sound was drowned by him. The kiss became faster, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your head was spinning and you felt light-headed as if you were high up on the clouds and not in an empty classroom in the dungeons of Hogwarts. The Slytherin seemed to have that effect on you and you already knew that the moment he pulled away, your body would be trembling, aching for more for him.

Draco’s fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it out of your skirt until you felt his hands on your bare skin. This was the moment where your eyes fluttered open and you turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss. Turning back, he looked at you confused and out of breath. His usually perfect hair was messy, his lips red and puffy. The green and silver tie around hung loosely around his neck and the first buttons of his shirt were already opened, barely covering up the red lines of a hickey you’d given him.

You had done it to tease him, knowing how much he despised marks or blemishes on his body but it had only ended with him, pulling you in here and pressing you up against the cold stone wall. “Seems like I need to teach you a lesson,” he had grumbled, his eyes suddenly black as the night and your melted right then and there, trembling with excitement.

Now, he stared at you with a hunger in his eyes that made it clear to you, he wasn’t ready to leave yet. You, however, didn’t want to miss the announcement the Headmistress so mysteriously wanted to give tonight at supper.

“We only have around five or ten minutes to get there,” you repeated yourself. “Let’s go!”

He rolled his eyes and leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours. “Why do you want to go so badly?”, he asked. “The others can tell us later –”

“But I want to hear it. It sounded important.”

“Speaking from experience, most things our headmasters or headmistresses announce is less important than they think.”

You chuckled. “That’s your opinion. I’m also hungry.”

“Yeah, me too,” he replied and tilted his head again. Before he could press his lips against yours, he was stopped by your finger on his mouth.

You chuckled. “Draco.”

“Ugh,” he sighed dramatically and let go of you. “Fine…”

“Stop whining,” you laughed and reached down to grab the robe that he had pulled down your shoulders just minutes earlier. He only smirked at you.

The last two weeks were a blurr. You were drawn to one another, addicted, starving for each other. Lighting struck in your hearts with every whisper, every kiss, every touch. He never left your mind, all your thoughts circled around him. Around being close to him. Being with him. It was ridiculous how much your body longed to feel him against yours. He made you feel things you didn’t know existed. In conclusion, it wasn’t possible to describe the time with him adequately. Magical was a word the muggles would probably use.

Sometimes, in the quiet moments, when you watched him work in the library or nod off in the Room of Requirements, a thought entered your mind. It crept up like a monster behind his prey, careful and silent but just as dangerous: This isn’t friendship.

You shut it out but it kept coming back. Waking you in the middle of the night, distracting you when you studied, made you forget your homework. Until now, you were successful in ignoring it. However, along with the thought came the fear that it wouldn’t leave you.

Headmistress McGonagall was in the middle of her speech when the two of you arrived. You glared at Draco, silently saying “I told you so” before you sat down next to Ginny. She grinned at you and wiggled her eyebrows, guessing where you had come from. You rolled your eyes.

“… Winter Dance.”

You looked up abruptly when McGonagall said those words. She made a pause as if she wanted to see the reactions of her students. They started to murmur and giggle, excitement filled the room like a buzz. She stopped it with a wave of her hand.

“The last time, Hogwarts has hosted such an event was during the Triwizard Tournament”, McGonagall continued. “It feels like a long time ago. This particular school year ended in tragedy when we lost our dear student and friend, Cedric Diggory.” Another pause. “We experienced the Dance however as something beautiful that brought us and you closer together. This is why we, the staff and our Prefects,” she turned to smile at the mentioned people, “decided to make the Winter Dance a yearly tradition. In February of each year, we will come together to celebrate and dance.”

When she ended, the Hall erupted into clapping and cheers. Ginny nudged you excitedly, already making plans for you to go to Hogsmeade to shop for a dress during the next weekend.

“The Winter Dance will be held in two weeks,” the Headmistress announced. “I expect you to wear formal, appropriate attire. Other than that –”, a smile showed on her face, “– I expect you to have fun.”

With that, she snapped her fingers and food appeared on the long tables. The Hall was filled with noise in seconds. You felt the excitement in the air and when Draco winked at you from across the Slytherin table and you couldn’t suppress the smile, you understood the other students.

A ball.

A real ball. With dresses and music and delicious food and everyone having fun. Everyone being normal. Just like the Yule Ball. It seemed so long ago yet you remembered every detail of the night. Getting ready with Ginny, nervously waiting for your date, clumsily dancing and trying not to step on his feet. To be fair, you had gotten much better since then. When your father found out that you tripped twice during the night, he spent the also summer between your third and fourth year teaching you how to dance. The memory gave you a feeling of warmth. Oh, how happy and simple your life once was.

“I suppose you’re going with Malfoy?”, Ginny interrupted your thoughts.

You didn’t answer her question. “I suppose you’re going with Harry?”

She frowned. “Of course, we’re dating.”

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow. It clicked in her brain and Ginny nodded slowly. “Right yes, I keep thinking this all just a feverish dream and you’re not really with him.”

“Stop being rude, Ginny,” Hermione chimed in before taking a sip from her drink.

“She can handle it,” the Weasley girl replied and grinned at you.

You chuckled. “Thank you, Hermione,” you said nonetheless. “However, let’s focus on the more important things here.”

Both of the girls looked at you with question marks in their eyes.

“We need to get to Hogsmeade before Parkinson and the whole bunch can buy the good dresses.”

 ***

One week later …

Draco flinched.

You stopped and looked up at him. He was on his back, shirtless, the covers pulled up just to hips, one arm behind his head, the other one straight next to his body. Although his eyes were closed, you noticed the way he clenched his jaw.

It was quiet in the Room of Requirements. Right now, it had changed to a small room with only a large bed in front of a window from which you were able to see the Black Lake and the stunning Scottish landscape behind it.

“Does it hurt?”, you whispered.

“Yes,” he replied. “No, I … I can’t describe it.” He let out a deep breath.

“Hmm,” you hummed and your eyes trailed back over his toned chest down to his left arm. The eyes of the snake in his black tattoo seemed to be staring back at you. In your mind, you were curious to see how it looked when it was moving.

“Do you think it should hurt?”, you asked then.

Draco opened his eyes. They found you right away. “I have a therapist for that, you know.”

You smiled cheekily at him.

He turned on his side, using his left arm to prop himself up. Right in that moment, the first rays of the sun hit the window. The light made his skin shimmer golden and it took your breath away for a second. People disagreed on so many things about Draco Malfoy but you were convinced there was one thing, everyone – even a blind person – had to admit: he was drop dead gorgeous.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled. His expression was serious, not even the hint of a smile. “I can say that, right? As a friend?”

The sudden tone that changed from earnest to teasing, made you snort. “It’s possible to find people attractive without having feelings for them. You’re not blind, are you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m definitely not.” After a moment of silence, he then asked: “Have you found a dress yet?”

“Going today before breakfast.”

“Before?”, he raised an eyebrow. That meant you had to leave soon.

You nodded. “We want to get there before Parkinson and the rest.”

“I feel like Weasley and Pansy have quite different price ranges, so she doesn’t have to worry,” Draco remarked.

“But Parkinson and I don’t,” you replied and tried your best not to roll your eyes at his comment.

“True,” he shrugged. “I’d love to buy a dress.”

The statement took you by surprise. You blinked. Draco smiled sadly. It took you an embarrassing long time to understand. From what money. “One day,” you said softly. “Times will change for your family. I’m sure of it.”

There was an awkward moment of silence in which Draco just looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he shifted and so did the blanket on his hips, you noticed. When he saw how your eyes wandered down his body, he smirked. “When do you have to leave?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“I can work with that.”

 ***

You were the first customers of the day. The store was still closed when Hermione, Ginny and you arrived.

“See, it’s not even open yet. There was no reason for you to be mad at me!”, you exclaimed when you stood in front of the door and saw the ‘Closed’-sign.

“You were twenty minutes late!”, Hermione snapped. Her cheeks were red. You didn’t know if the running or the anger caused it but you were not sure if you wanted to.

“Yeah, well, I was busy …,” you mumbled. “Doing things …”

“Do those things have Malfoy as their last name?”, Ginny asked.

You cleared your throat. “Maybe?”

There was a brief moment of silence in which your friends just looked at you. Then, suddenly, both of them started laughing.

“Just the thought …”, Ginny shivered.

“People like Malfoy don’t have sex, it’s just, no, my mind doesn’t know what to do with this information,” Hermione shook her head.

You snorted at their reactions. It was freezing cold out here and so you began to rock back and forth on your heels. “They do,” you said to Hermione. “Believe me, they do.”

“Is he any good though?”, Ginny wanted to know. “Or is he into some weird kinky Slytherin –”

Luckily, she was cut off when the door opened and a small, old lady looked at you. “Are you here for the Winter Dance?”

 ***

In all your time at Hogwarts, you had never stepped foot into this shop. For the Yule Ball, your parents had sent you a dress so you really never had a reason to come here.

You were surprised though by the sheer abundance of dresses and suits pressed into the small store. Every color you could think of, tulle and lace and velvet and satin – you and your friends were speechless when you walked in.

“There’s just … so much,” Hermione stammered.

“Yes, dear,” the old lady nodded eagerly. “When we heard about the Winter Dance, we made as many dresses as we could in the short time.”

“They’re all so beautiful,” you said.

“Thank you! They are the best quality in all of Scotland!”, she replied shortly. “How about you take a seat and I will present you with some options that I’d think would look stunning on you pretty girls.”

And with that, she hurried off. Your friends looked at one another before going over to the small couch on the other end of the store. It was located in front of the dressing rooms and a huge mirror.

Hermione was first. She had a pretty clear vision of what she wanted to wear and the old lady picked out the perfect dress right on the first try. It was a gorgeous red ballgown with a sweetheart-neckline. She looked like a goddess.

“Ron will faint,” you remarked and she giggled.

Ginny was next. For her, it was more difficult. She tried on six dresses, in colors from bright pink to black. In the end, she settled for a yellow dress. It clashed with her red-hair in the best way possible and you wondered how it was possible for any guy not to fall in love with her. She was excited when she saw herself in the mirror, turning and twirling in front of it – but her joy was ended abruptly when the old lady mentioned the price.

“I told you my price range,” Ginny said distraught.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she sighed. “But what you wanted … it wasn’t possible.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?”

Hermione looked over at you and you understood immediately. “We’ll pay for it,” you chimed in.

Ginny turned to you and shook her head violently. “No, absolutely not.” You had expected that reaction. She was just as proud as the rest of the family.

“It’s fine, Ginny,” Hermione smiled at her.

“No, it’s not!”

“It’s an early birthday gift?”, you tried to offer.

“No!”

“Okay, how about that,” you began, “we only pay the difference. And we’ll split it in half so it’s not too bad.”

Ginny hesitated.

“Just promise us to get us free tickets for your Quidditch games once you’re famous,” Hermione added.

Finally, she smiled. Very hesitantly but she did. “Fine then.”

You were next. Not sure what you’d like, you told the lady to just bring any dresses she’d like to see on you. In this moment, you wished for your mother to be here. No matter how difficult of a person she was, she had an immaculate sense of style. She would have walked in here and picked the right dress immediately.

However, the old lady seemed to have the same gift. When you saw yourself in that first dress, you swallowed heavily. You hardly recognized the woman in the mirror.

“Oh it’s gorgeous,” Hermione commented. “That’s the one, no question.”

Ginny nodded in agreement.

It was a dark blue dress, flowing down, hugging and accentuating all the right parts of your body. There were little gemstones woven in the fabric of the skirt, making it sparkle with every movement of yours. It must cost a fortune. Luckily, your father still felt guilty for what happened last Christmas and told you to not look on the price tag and to simply send him the bill.

“His favourite colour is green.”

You were so stunned by the dress that you didn’t notice how the door opened and someone stepped in. You looked up, only to see the judging faces of your three Slytherin best friends: Astoria Greengrass, accompanied by her sister and Parkinson.

Astoria stared at you and didn’t even try to hide the fact that she despised seeing you here. “His favourite colour,” she repeated herself. “It’s green.”

Oh, so she wanted to pick a fight.

You frowned, not sure what to say at first.

“Oh, fuck off, Greengrass,” Ginny shot at her, coming to your rescue.

“Wow, a Weasel? In here? You sure you can aff–”

Before she finished her sentence and Ginny got a chance to physically fight her, you raised your voice: “It’s not.”

Astoria focused her attention back on you. Confused, you noticed how her sister – Daphne – rolled her eyes and stepped away, clearly not interested in this petty drama. Parkinson stayed and watched the two of you curiously.

“Excuse me?”, Astoria said.

“His favourite colour isn’t green,” you explained with a soft voice. “It’s this one actually. Blue.”

She blinked.

“And some small piece of advice,” you continued, “wear what you’re comfortable with not what you think men like Draco want.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw Hermione looking down on her feet. The corners of her mouth twitched. Ginny on the other hand didn’t hide the wide grin on her face.

If looks could kill, you’d be dead by now. “Luckily with my body I’m comfortable in everything,” she said coldly.

You smiled. “Okay then. Good for you.”

 ***

Two weeks later …

“If you don’t want me looking like a house-elf, I have to leave now to get ready!”, you giggled.

Draco ignored you and lowered his head to kiss you again. He was heavy against your body as he pinned you down and when your lips met, a sigh escaped you. He replied by only deepening the kiss – his tongue twined with yours and your fingers tangled in his hair. Draco groaned when you pulled at it and suddenly he changed positions, yanking you up and pulling you in his lap.

You gasped when you felt him, growing more excited already, and pressed yourself against him, biting down on his lip. Dracos hands tightened on your hips and he moved down to where the skirt from your uniform was already riding up. When you felt his touch against your skin, you broke the kiss.

“What?”, he asked, his eyes dark and hungry.

“I have to go now,” you repeated yourself.

He groaned and let his head fall against the back of the couch. You smirked. “And you need to get ready as well.”

“You’re a tease,” he mumbled and you laughed. “Why don’t we just skip the Dance?”, Draco then asked.

You shook your head. “Because I’ve been looking forward to this for two weeks now.”

“But we’d have so much fun,” Draco tried to argue. You felt his fingers drawing circles on your upper thigh and shivered. His eyes lit up at the reaction. “The castle will be empty. Can you imagine all the rooms we could do it in? How about the Slytherin common –”

You quickly put a finger on his lips to stop him from talking. “I want to go dance though, Draco.” You lowered your voice: “Besides, don’t you want to see me in my dress?”

“Mhh,” he hummed. “I do. You could only wear it for me?”

You chuckled again and leaned forward to give him a quick kiss.

“So that’s a no?”, he asked when you pulled back.

“No.” You shook your head.

Draco sighed dramatically. “Fine then.”

You smiled at him and kissed him another time, a little longer this time, a little more teasing. “It’ll be fun,” you whispered against his lips. “See you later.” He groaned defeatedly when you got up from his lap.

You reached for your bag and cloak and after a little wave of your hand, you walked towards the door. “Oh and Draco?”, you remembered something. “I’m never gonna do it in the Slytherin common room with you.”

You knew he was smirking without turning around.

“You say that now but wait until –”

The door fell shut before you heard the end of his sentence. ***

A/N: I hope you liked it! <3

CHAPTER 18 Choose Me Instead Masterlist HP Masterlist Tag List:   @writerdee1701, @youareinllve, @sjmahoney, @detroitobsessed, @takura-rin, @jadam268, @wynterwind,  @renaissance-confiance, @harpoon999, @doitforthevine67​, @rinasrights​, @flowerpowerpixie​, @gold-flowing​, @starkssnarks​, @bookcornerkins​, @harpersmariano​, @markedsweetly​, @iraniq​, @pointlesscoconut​, @hvrcruxes​, @pillowjj​, @idkatee​,    @magicwithaknife​, @graystherapy​, @scoote-rankle​, @nxstalgicnxbxdy​, @sunsetsofanemoia​,  @tommy-holland​, @lordfxxker​, @streetfighterrichie​, @awaken-the-sirens​, @destiels-assbutt13​, @pockitparks​, @just-addicted-to-bangtan​, @cuddlykoala101​, @zpandaqueen​,  @natsiboo​, @jjjmaybank​, @justmesadgirl​, @books-and-tings​, @slytherinprincedracom​, @katiaw2​, @saintkore​, @nctnight​, @lifestragedy​, @obxmxybxnk​, @spideydobik​ , @ladylizzieofdarbyshire​, @aspiring-ginger​, @dracomalfoyswifey​, @jpow345​, @realistic-breadstick​,  @abbs-is-tired​, @alwaysbeanunknownfan​, @niallsarmveinstho​, @is-this-a-febreze-commercial​, @acciowilltolive​, , @sexytholland​, @faangirl101​, @donttellany1iusetumbler​, @mendesmuffinsss​, @lilxnvm​, @kill-the-teen-memories​, @darkusangelus​, @itsbebeyyy​, @hesaidimcrazy​, @jenniweaslee​, @hpxpjo​, @brisbubble​, @xomaymay​, @shitnstuffillregret​, @serialkillme​, @angel-tears15​, @panicattheeverywherekid​, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything​,  @nobleking​, @tashii-blr​, @ddaeing​, @randogirlo-fando-main​, @sadgirlnumber92899​, @captivateing​, @bitchyegirl​, @smiithys​, @ninipoo1​, @intheawks​,  @nothanksnyla​, @calpal-4ever​, @dracosathenaeum​, @belsandthings​, , @kiwi-sloan​, @xdmx​, @lexi-ravenclawdracomalfoy​, @kvyenxay​, @live-awkward​, @babebenhardy​, @bitchysweets-blog​, @cravingmusic​, @frau-moon​, @ohissandhalasta​,  @broken-but-beautiful-cassie​, @lil-black-heart​,  @vminenthusiastt​, @dracos-sluts​, @ohbabycal​, @saucysuazo​, @fuzzzwald​, @matsuno-nadeshiko​, @amber-arsenault​ ,  @loveableasshole​,  @spideycures​, @echpr​, @shiningstar-byulxx​,  @twinklebug2282​, @bloodiedroses​, @klthmef​, @ostorian​ ,  @bi-chai-tea​, @maddieisnotok​, @amandaluvssupernatural​, @makeoutwithstiles​,    @i-am-addicted-to-tea​, @tenclouds​, @lovingdracomalfoy​, @lannaax​, @dr-bitch-bby​,  @fallinallinmendes​, @suckerforparker​, @runninglownad​, @piercinghorizons​, @dosicas​, @yanaaaaaaa​, @desertdwellerwitch, @bittersweetthoughts–ofinsanity, @akzer300500​, @bbeautyybbx, @hoseokslily​, @dracofeltonmalfoy​, @emilianamason​, @tothemoonwithclifford​, @gcldreinhart​ ,  @angelofthorr​, @k-k0129​, @musicalmuffindog1410​, @andydre4m​, @mxl-foyrecs​, @seeinorange​, @vlgsqd​ , @justmimithings​, @allthevoicesinmyhead​, @pipppaaaaalouisee​, @yessirrz​, @2think2twice2 @spencerreidisbootiful, @find-a-little-faith, @thatguppienamedbae, @mimi15aguayo, @emmamarie7708, @dontpanicitsdan If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know!

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/N #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x oc #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco #malfoy #harry potter imagines #harry potter fanfiction #hogwarts imagines #Slytherin x Gryffindor #slytherin fanfiction #slytherin imagines #gryffindor #gryffindor imagine #draco malfoy x gryffindor #draco malfoy x gryffindor!reader #harry potter #choose me instead #astrids fics

[dragonsareourfuture]

Death Note/GN!Reader — Pick Up Lines

A quick little scenario in which your Death Note sweetheart uses a terrible pick up line on you! I feel as though these all kinda suck since I write this a while ago but it’s fine. It’s fine.

Mello

Staying up late every night and watching security footage was not fairing well for Mello. Dark circles started to form underneath his eyes, and you pointed out that he was turning into L, all he needed was black hair and a haircut. He simply responded “The day I cut my hair short is the day the world ends.”

Usually when Mello got tired he would turn into a grumpy, adorable gremlin but, mixed with the excessive amount of chocolate he consumed due to boredom, he had turned loopy. Matt had relied on his headphones to keep him sane, whereas you were left with no escape from the babbling blond.

Mello rambled on and on about how he was going to beat Near with every fiber of his being, slowly getting sidetracked into a conversation about sheep.

“They’re so fucking fluffy. Standing around, eating grass, taunting me.” The blond mumbled, his head resting on your lap as you stroked his hair, listening with genuine interest.

“Mhmm, how do they taunt you?” you inquired, wanting to know more before your boyfriend fell asleep and you never got to find out why he felt so threatened by white, fluffy animals.

“They just...do  .”

“Well, I’ll always keep you safe from the mean, mean sheep.”

Mello shifted so that he was gazing up at you. He lifted his hand to your face and gently smacked your cheek with his palm, rubbing his tired eyes with the other hand.

“Aw, babe you’re so sweet when you talk like that... You make me melt like chocolate in the summer~ ”

“I do what?”

Before Mello could answer, unconsciousness grasped him and pulled him down into the dimension of sleep. You sighed, disappointed that you wouldn’t get to hear more, yet also relieved that Mello could finally get the sleep that he needed.

“G’night, Mels,” You whispered, brushing his bangs to the side and kissing his forehead, “You make me melt, too.”

Matt

Matt’s been acting strangely clingy all day. As soon as you noticed this fact, you immediately figured that it was an anniversary or either one of your birthdays and it had slipped your mind. However, upon further inspection of your phone calendar, today appeared to be nothing special.

You were seated on the couch, watching a bit of television while Matt washed the dishes. You had insisted that you could handle that task yourself, but the goggle-wearing sweetheart had insisted that you relax.

Suddenly you heard the sink turn off and footsteps lead up to the couch. You turned around to see the redhead wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind.

“Hey, I lost my phone number...can I have yours? ” He asked with a sly smile.

“Matt, you have my number. Is that a pickup line? You know we’re already dating, right? Is my number not working?” You interrogated, grabbing his phone from the coffee table and calling your cell from it to ensure that your phone number still worked.

“No- it’s... you’re supposed to go along with it!”

“Well, come up with a better one next time, dumb ass,” You tossed Matt’s phone back at him, the device landing in his lap. He pouted and shoved it into his jacket pocket, getting up to return to the kitchen.

“You’re no fun.”

L

The room grew dim and increasingly empty as the hours ran further into the day, eventually turning to night. Despite the signs that you should be on your way home, you stayed with the only detective who thought it appropriate to work into the ungodly hours of the night.

You glanced over at L, back turned to you with his nose practically pressed against the computer screen. You rolled your eyes and switched on the main light of the room, saying, “You’re gonna ruin your eyes reading in the dark like that.”

L did not respond but, at the looks of it, kept on reading the minuscule words on his screen with intent.

“Do you need anything? Water? Maybe some cake?” You asked, giggling at the end of your words for no other reason than the tiredness getting to your brain.

“No, thank you.  I already have you, and you’re sweeter than cake, anyway,” L droned matter of factly, not even tearing his eyes away from the luminescent screen.

“Awww! Oh my god, L!” You squealed, running up to L and enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug.

“Ah...(name), I c-can’t breathe...”

Near

You could practically hear the blood flow to your brain as you spun around in a desk chair at painful hours of the night. The screens that filled the SPK headquarters shone in your eyes, keeping you awake along with the unhealthy amounts of caffeine you had consumed.

Your white haired boyfriend sat crouched on the floor by your feet. The clicking of building blocks rang throughout the otherwise empty room as he stacked them on top of one another, paying no mind to anything else.

You sighed, placing your chin on the palm of your hand and deflating on the spot. No amount of caffeine could keep you here as late as Near always stayed, no matter how much you wanted it to. You hated that he was here alone all the time and, even though he always tried to convince you that he didn’t care, you knew it took a toll on his mental state.

You shifted in your chair, about to heave your body up when Near’s monotonous voice kept you still.

“(Name).”

You waited for him to continue, and spoke up when he stayed silent, “What’s up, babe?”

“Do you like LEGO ?” Near inquired. His eyes finally met yours as he twirled a LEGO piece in between his fingers.

“Uh, I guess—“

“Because I want to build a world with you... ”

You froze, wondering if the caffeine was getting to your head or if Near had actually used a pickup line on you — and a goddamn adorable one at that.

A weak smile tugged at your lips. You slid off the office chair and dropped to your knees on the cold tile beside Near, throwing your arms around the boy without another word.

Though he stiffened at first, Near melted under your embrace. He buried his face into your shoulder and wrapped his noodle arms around your torso. You stayed like this for either a minute, or an hour. It was so quiet that you could hear your hearts beating in sync. Everything was so perfect, so loving, so-

“ARE YOU GUYS STILL HERE!?”

Your heart nearly burst from your chest at the sound of a door banging against metal and the rough tone of Rester calling out to you.

Near grumbled and shoved his face into your neck, trying and failing to escape the booming echo of footsteps that approached your little heap on the floor.

“Yeah,” your voice came out ragged and small, but enough for Rester to hear and follow, “right here.”

“You both look exhausted! Come on, let’s get you to sleep.”

When Near barely moved a muscle, you took it upon yourself to pick up his limp body from the floor bridal style and carry him to bed. Though you almost dropped the poor boy more than once, you’d say you did a fairly good job. And, once you were both snuggled up in bed, you got a good nights rest of a solid three hours of sleep. It was the most Near’s gotten in weeks, so you were not complaining.

Light

Though you were already in a relationship with Light, the cheesy lines and swooning from him never ceased. You wouldn’t have to fend him off with a stick but he loved to be all over you even when he already won you over, and you loved that about him.

This was mainly exhibited when you two were alone together, him finding public displays of affection to be childish and overall unnecessary as everyone you hung around with at school respected your relationship quite nicely.

The two of you were strolling on the sidewalk after a headache inducing day of school. His arm was resting lazily over your neck as you walked while all attention was focused on you and you alone. You ranted about the difficulties of the day and, although they were mostly all minor inconveniences, they really got under your skin once all added up.

When you had finished, you huffed and rubbed at your temple.

Breaking the silence that followed, Light blurted,  “How would you like to be the goddess of the new world?  You wouldn’t have to deal with that crap anymore.”

You laughed, reaching up to lace your fingers with the hand that dangled by your shoulder. “Dude, I barely know what taxes are. I don’t think I can handle being a goddess.”

“Aw, that’s a shame,” Light pouted jokingly.

The two of you came to a stop in front of his house, him pulling you flush against him and just staring wistfully (up/down) at you. “Do you want to come in? I’m sure Sayu will be delighted to see you.”

“Oh, I’d love to but I don’t want to intrude—“

“Nonsense. Come on.”

And so, Light guided you into his home, his mother and Sayu cheerfully greeting you at the door and whisking you away into a night of wonderful conversation and a lovely dinner.

Matsuda

You took advantage of the daylight, working nonstop so that you wouldn’t have to stay after hours to get your unfinished work done.

Through your tireless efforts, you failed to notice a pair of familiar eyes glancing back at you every so often. You only noticed a change in your boyfriend’s behavior when he came rolling up to your desk in his wheely chair, resting his chin on his elbows and looking at you expectantly.

“Hey, what’s up, Teddy Bear?” You greeted, barely tearing your eyes from the papers splayed out all across your desk.

Matsuda grinned from ear to ear every time he heard that nickname. It made him feel wanted and loved whenever he was around you. Sometimes, this caused the filter between his brain and his mouth to thin, allowing whatever he’s thinking in that moment to slip out.

“Do you have a map? Because I’m getting lost in your eyes... ” he said dreamily.

Your head shot up in an instant, puzzled by the seemingly random affection, only to see Matsuda covering his lips as a dark blush began to rise on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Th-that’s not...I-“

“Honey...” you shook your head and sighed, placing your pen down flat on the desk, “That is the literal worst line ever but it sounds wonderful coming from you.”

“O-oh. Thanks?” He chuckled nervously, massaging the back of his neck as his skin became slick with sweat.

You leaned over the desk and pecked his lips before collecting your paperwork in a neat stack, placing it all carefully in your shoulder bag, careful not to bend any corners. “Why don’t I finish my work in that nice little coffee shop across the street. Join me?”

“Y-yes! I’d love to. It’s getting a little stuffy in here, anyway.”

Misa

“Ughhhhh I’m so tired! What a day!” Misa exclaimed, stretching out her arms above her head as she walked over to her folding chair. The white, feathery wings fastened to her back smacked people and equipment as she passed them, but you saw her as nothing but elegant.

Your girlfriend plopped her butt down into the fragile chair, giving Matsuda a scare when it nearly toppled over. With beads of sweat trickling down his forehead, he handed the girl her coffee.

“Aw, thanks, Matsu! And you too, (Name)! I wouldn’t be able to do any of my scenes without you guys cheering me on!”

You chuckled, cheeks turning a dusted shade of pink at Misa’s praise. “Dont give us all the credit, babe. You’re the one giving your all up there.”

Misa twisted in her chair to grab at your hand and intertwine her fingers with yours. “You’re too sweet, honey! Y’know, if it were up to me, you’d be the one wearing these wings!”

“Oh, I don’t know, I couldn’t take your place!” You said, gesturing to the fountain where Misa’s scene had just been filmed.

The blonde giggled and brought your fingers to her lips, giving them a couple kisses before shaking her head. “I meant I’d have you in these wings because you’re an absolute Angel , silly!”

Before you could even begin to respond, Matsuda beat you to it. “Aww my gosh, you guys! Could I be the best man at your wedding?”

“Hmm...” you pretended to ponder while tapping your chin with your index finger. “How do you feel about being the flower boy?”

“Done!”

#death note #death note x reader #reader x death note #death note oneshot #death note fanfic #death note fanfiction #x reader #x reader scenarios #reader insert #reader insert scenarios #reader insert fanfic #x reader fanfic #death note misa #death note mello #death note matt #death note light #death note light yagami #death note matsuda #death note l #death note near #death note l lawliet #death note mihael keehl #death note mail jeevas #death note nate river #death note touta matsuda #mello x reader #matt x reader #near x reader #l lawliet x reader #light yagami x reader

[kyoongboxi]

Delight —

[Baekhyun AU]

— Summertime with Baekhyun —

Summary; You were going to a waterpark to spend your summer with your highschool friends but who would have thought it would be your first meeting after a long time with your all-time highschool crush, Baekhyun.

Pairing; Baekhyun x Reader

Genre; fluff, cute, romance.

——

You've already passed almost three years of college. You feel like you've been through everything started from missing the class especially the one which started in the morning, missing assignments, lack of sleep, skipping the class because of certain things, and others. You also rarely going out in season break because you feel like you didn't really need that. And now summer break is here again.

You were planning to go back to your parents house and spending time probably at the beach just like every summer with your little sister. But the last few days, your high school chat group is always ringing non-stop. Actually you don't care at all but your name keeps being mentioned in the group chat. It said you have to come because everyone misses you. You frowned as you scroll up the group chat and it turned out they're planning to go into a reunion in a local waterpark.

You were about to type something but your phone screen suddenly changed. Showing your high school's bestfriend name on it. Kayla. She was begging you to come because she also hasn't seen you in a long time. At first you were firm in your choice that you wouldn't come but Kayla who kept on sulking managed to melt your heart. You agreed.

And now here you are. Dressing in a simple black swimsuit, watching Kayla and your other friends splashing water into each other. You bend your knees a little so the water reached below your chest. There was a few people including your bestfriend below the big bucket waiting for it to be filled with water and creating a big splash of water when it spilled. Kayla noticed you were watching and she's gesturing you to come.

A laugh escaped your lips as you keep shaking your head telling that you didn't want to come. You don't really like playing in the waterpark because you almost seeing death when you were playing on a waterslide with your friends in high school. You disobeyed the playing procedure. At that time you were sitting on the front, followed by three of your friends in the back. The height of the swimming pool was more than 1,6 meters. You thought it wasn't a problem at all because you can swim. But then you were drowned for about three minutes because your friends keep pushing you down accidentally.

You pushed away your thoughts as the bucket spilled causing a big splash of water and people screaming happily. A smile automatically drew against your lips as you saw Kayla laughing with her friends. Not long after, she was approaching you and splashing you with water.

"Let's go to the waterslide. Wanna come? C'mon bestie just this time?" Kayla asked you suddenly. She knows everything about what happened to you back then so there was a little hesitation slipped between her tone.

"I don't—"

"Aaahh.. Please? You're gonna be fine. I promise. Yeah?" Then she did that again. Showing her puppy eyes and grasping your hands with her.

You rolled your eyes at her before getting up from the water and agreeing. Kayla jumped and pulled you into a tight hug. You both were giggling until your friends approaching you and heading into the waterslide together. There was around nine people including you who wants to play the waterslide.

You climb the stairs carefully with your heart starting to race inside your chest. It was your first time trying this again since that accident. Kayla noticed your stiff movement and she throws her arm around your shoulder and telling you you're going to be just fine.

"Loosen up a bit.. You're fine. Okay? All your friends in here we wouldn't let you drown" Hearing the last sentence, your hands automatically flew to her chest. Hitting her lightly caused your friend to laugh.

After a few minute climbing up the stairs, you and your friends finally reached the top. You peeking out how far the waterslide is and it was kinda long. Maybe it took around one minute or more for reaching the ground. You shivered but your thoughts being pushed away when four of your friends already sliding down through it using the yellow swimming tire made for four people.

You immediately glancing around because now only five people are left and four of them including Kayla was getting ready to start their adventure. Your friends only brought a two swimming tire and basically it only fits for eight people.

"Gu—guys.." You called out and four of them glancing against your direction.

"The tire was made for four people and— we were five. I— I don't want go alone.. I'll just going down using the stairs—"

"Right— I'm sorry I didn't realize that. That's fine I'll come down using the stairs with you—" Kayla spoke and getting up from the tire, walking towards where you stand at the corner but you stopped her by saying its fine.

"No no.. Kayla you can join them. Its fine actually— I'm having a doubt for sliding this down" You gestured. "I'm going to use the stairs. Its fine— guys" You let out an awkward laugh and Kayla sent you an apologetic look meanwhile the other three was calling her to come with them.

"Its fine, Kay. Just wait for me" You spoke softly.

"Okay then—" She nodded and turned her back to you. "I'll wait on the pool. Join us asap, yeah?" Kayla turned her head around once again and you nodded.

They disappeared against the waterslide tunnel not long after and you could hear their muffled laughter echoing through it. You sighed and wraps your arms around your torso. You shouldn't have agreeing to come because now you feel bad for ruining your friends summer time.

You turned around walking towards the stairs. You keep your head down and you saw a man feet walking in the same direction. Without thinking twice you move aside, letting him to walk first but a familiar voice calling your name caused you to looked up.

You feel like someone is pulling you harshly into the same hole that leading into your past when your eyes met those warm yet captivating brown eyes you wished you will never see again. Baekhyun, Byun Baekhyun. Your biggest crush ever when you were in the high school.

He was there. Looking at you with one arm holding the yellow swimming tire behind his back. The last time you saw him on his Instastory, his hair was white. But now he dyed his hair into a darker color. Slightly wet and half parted. It was like he's been running his fingers through his hair because it was a little bit messy. And you noticed that he was wearing a black shirt that clutching into his skin perfectly paired with red shorts. All wet.

Oh you just want to disappear and curse at Kayla for not telling you he was also coming. You feel shy under his gaze because you noticed he was looking at your exposed skin before going back into your eyes. You hugged your exposed torso a little bit tighter and shoot him a smile. A forced one because it was too obvious and Baekhyun noticed your awkwardness.

"I thought you went down already with Kayla and the others?" Baekhyun finally spoke. "I just talked to someone a few minutes ago and I told Lucas to going first with the others. Did he join you?" And now you realized you missed him that much. Even his voice sounds like a great lullaby when it reached your ears.

You could only nodded because you feel like your tongue are tied and its very hard to speak. Your heart keep thumping loudly meanwhile your brain keep telling you to leave him. Right now.

"Ah I see.. And— what happened to you why didn't you joining?"

And you finally open your mouth. "They only brought two tire— only fits for four people— all of us were nine so I didn't get the space" You answered with a soft laugh.

"And now you wanna go down using the stairs?" He asked again as he put the yellow tire on the slide.

You nodded.

Baekhyun glanced at you. A smile drew against his lips showing his teeth and those cute cheeks. "Wanna slide together?" He offered.

Your eyes widened immediately as you heard those words rolling out his tongue. Slide together? Hell nah. "But— you only brought the tire designed for one people—"

He chuckled. "Not a big problem. You can sit on my lap" He answered easily. "C'mon"

You close your eyes for a sec and trying to control your breathing because God this man is crazy and your heart is also beating crazily. "I'm sorry Baekhyun, but I got a trauma—"

"I know, I know. I would never forget that" He shook his head and threw his gaze into another direction before coming back to you. "I'll hold you tight. You're gonna be fine. C'mon" He then offered his hand to you.

Both your heart and mind is racing. You really didn't know what to do and what to choose. "C'mon.. You should live a little we both still young. I know you since long ago. You trusted me, right?"

Did you trust him? "Is that okay with you if I sit on your— la— lap?"

"More than okay. Let's go"

Baekhyun climbed against the tire. Trying to find the right position with his legs spread open. Once he was done, he gestured for you to sit on top of him. To sit on his lap.

You walked up slowly towards him with a shaky legs and you just hope he didn't noticed. Take a deep breath, you crouched down to sit against his lap carefully. You could feel the wet material of his shorts rubbing against your inner thighs as you sit down. His right arm immediately snakes around your naked torso and you shivered because his skin feels cold against your warm one meanwhile his other hand clutching into the side of the tire for safety. Your both hands also joining him clutching the side of it.

"Ready?" He spoke softly against your ear. His breath caressed your skin.

You nodded softly before you closed your eyes. You don't want to see everything. You were scared of being drowned. "Relax.." Baekhyun tightened his grip around your body. "We'll go in one.. Two.."

"Three!"

With that, you could feel the tire sliding down in a fast motion. Moving deeper inside the tunnel of the waterslide. You could hear the man behind you screaming and laughing happily when you wouldn't dare to open your eyes. It took around one minute or more for reaching the pool and the next thing you realized was your body being slammed hard into the water as your breath hitched in your throat. A lot of water filling up your nose and you panicked. But you were pulled to the surface just in time as a pair of arms wrapped around your body.

You couldn't help but clutching into his arms as you coughed. Your breathing was fast and you probably looks like a dying fish in the hand of the fisherman. "Easy— easy... Let it out" You heard Baekhyun talk as he patted your back soothingly.

A minute passed and you were greeted by his warm gaze. You could tell he was worried about you from the way he looks at you in your eyes. "Are you okay?"

You nodded and let out a laugh as you throw your arms around his neck. Pulling him into your embrace. "I'm alright. I'm— I'm so sorry Baekhyun"

He gladly returned your embrace and running his fingers against your tangled locks. "That's fine. You're okay. We both fine. You trusted me, didn't you?"

You nodded and close your eyes again. You could feel Baekhyun chuckled because your chest was pressed against him. "Let's go for another ride then?" He asked you.

And not far from where you were at, stood Kayla smiling and winked against the man. Baekhyun nodded and raised his thumb towards her. Mission success.

——

Hello! I'm back again hehe thankyou so much for your feedback on my first entry! I love you ❤❤ more are definitely coming please wait for me ehehe ‘ㅅ’!

And oh I can't replying to comments I'm kinda new on this app could someone please tell me how to? Thankyou 😂😭😭

#baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun oneshot

[letsperaltiago]

somewhere only we know

This is my entry for the B99 Summer 2021 Fic Exchange and it's for lovely Johanna aka. @amyscascadingtabs <3 I picked the prompt: "Jake and Amy going on a babymoon and enjoying some time together before everything changes for good."

It's very simple and just pure good, happy parents to be-vibes so yeah :) I initially wanted to add smut but didn't have the time to write it :(( If you feel like it's something you'd like, then feel free to lemme know! I can always add a chapter two heh. Anyways, enjoy!!

Rating: G

Words: 2.7k

Read here or on Ao3

“Jake, this is… amazing.”

This seems to be all Amy can come up with as the hotel room presents itself before her. Better or bigger words seem to be lacking from her otherwise excellent vocabulary but she blames it on the fact that she’s been carrying a tiny human for the past 35 weeks - not that she’s complaining. It’s been hard, both physically and mentally, and there are a few more weeks to go but by the end of it all, she’ll be holding her little baby boy. 

She’s tired and every inch of her body swollen and/or sore, but more importantly she’s eager and excited. Jake is too, if not even more than her, and this has resulted in the current scene: their babymoon. 

“You like it?” 

The way Jake asks her, eyes shining with innocent expectation and voice laced with childish excitement has her imagining just how their little boy will turn out to be. She can’t hold back her smile. This man will walk to the end of the earth to make her happy, essentially already has during this pregnancy, and the babymoon is just as much for him as it is for her. 

She turns on her heels to face him, showing him the bright smile that’s plastered on her makeup-free face which has gained some freckles during her pregnancy. 

“You could’ve planned a trip to a dumpster and I would still love it.”

Hands cupping his scruffy cheeks she pulls him in for a short but tender kiss that even so many years later, after thousands of kisses, has his toes curl in excitement. She truly would’ve stayed anywhere as long as Jake was with her. Although she does appreciate the fact that she’s standing in a beautiful lakeview suite at the LakeHouse Inn. 

“Should we reassess how much we refer to dumpsters and other gross locations when we declare our love for each other?” 

She chuckles at his comment, lips resonating against the corner of his grin. 

“Should we?” She slowly slides her hands to the back of her neck, entangling her fingers to keep her latched onto him even as she pulls away to flash him a pretend contemplative expression.  

Eyebrows cocked in playfulness, they share an indicative look in silence, only for them to break it in unison. “Nahh.”

“Right? It’s what makes us us.” Jake pulls her in by the hips which are carrying their son. 

Everything about Amy reminds him of their little miracle and makes him feel all tingly and excited. One look at her, one touch, and he forgets about the rest of the world and its crappiness. He has Amy and together with the tiny human in her belly, she is his entire universe. 

“Exactly.”

She closes the gap between them (as much as she can with the full-blown balloon shape of her stomach). 

“So,” she mumbles against his lips, “what are your plans for us?” 

Sadly, the 3-hour drive from home didn’t do wonders for her heavily pregnant body and even though she won’t admit it out loud, she hopes her husband’s plans for tonight will demand the bare minimum of her. She feels his lips and body withdraw, prompting her eyes open however the mischievous smile that meets her has a dimmed anxious feeling creeping over her - he does remember she’s 35 weeks pregnant, right? 

“I know that look, Peralta.” Her voice is distrustful, and after 7 years together she should know better than giving in to his teasing, but her suspicious air only fuels his fire and desire to mess with her. 

“In honor of my incredible and always so organized wife, there’s a tightknit schedule waiting for us.”

Tightknit schedule? Amy would usually be beaming at these words but right then and there, swollen legs, hungry and feeling everything but hot and fit after the drive, she aches to fall back onto the bed and sleep for days. It’s huge, king-sized, with crispy white sheets and the fluffy pillows are definitely calling her name. Although, the fact that Jake has everything planned out for their last vacation together, just the two of them, does pull on some heartstrings. He loves her so much and she loves him so much too. So much that she (almost) doesn’t turn a hair when he proudly starts listing their schedule for the evening and following day. 

“So right now it’s 4 PM which means unpacking-time. At 6 we have a dinner reservation at this cute little restaurant in a little town nearby so we’ll need to leave at approximately 5.45. At 8 there’s a showing of Die Hard at the local movie theater, which I thought we could attend?”

Okay, maybe her left eye flinches at this but very discreetly (or so she chooses to believe). 

“Then tomorrow there’s breakfast at 7, which is perfect because we have canoeing on the lake at 8.30...” 

She zones out after this. Hormones, tiredness, the fact that she can’t feel her feet- there are a thousand reasons but Amy can feel the most is tears prickling, threatening to spill. Not because she doesn’t appreciate her husband’s efforts and grand gestures, all for her, but because she can’t stand the thought of doing any of these sweet things he’s planned for them. She can’t cry though. He’s going to think something is actually wrong.

“Babe?”

However far gone she was, the sound of Jake’s voice pulls her back in and there’s a confusing mixture of mischief and pure adoration shining from these famous deep brown eyes. Why is he almost smiling when she’s having a tiny meltdown?

“Are you crying?”

“No?” she scoffs although she’s proven wrong upon touching her cheek where her fingers are met by a thin wet streak. “I’m just,” she clears her throat in hopes of avoiding a strained voice, “so overwhelmed by happiness and everything you’ve planned for us. It all sounds… great.”

Silence dawns upon them as Amy’s fake smile tries to convince him. On his part, Jake is biting his lip in an attempt to hold back a laugh, but his wife’s panicked look and teary eyes have him failing to last and after a couple of seconds he breaks the quietness. 

“Honey, I’m messing with you,” he chuckles and quickly pulls her back in for a tight hug, as tight as the belly allows, pecking the top of her head. “I know you love a good schedule but the only plans I have for us are: staying in bed, ordering room service, and watching tv.”

“Oh, thank God.”

The moan of relief flies out of her before she can even consider how it must sound to Jake, a great deal of embarrassment hitting her upon realization. She just made it sound like she wouldn’t appreciate her husband’s effort to make this weekend of theirs the best. 

“Jake, I’m so sorry! I didn’t-”

She pulls back to look him in the eyes, ready to offer a sincere apology for her blunt exclamation. She never gets to. Instead, she’s met with a huge grin and her husband looking everything but mad or hurt. Almost as if he knew. He knew how she’d react. He wanted her to react.

“You sly sneak! You knew you’d freak me out!” 

Only her husband can trick her like this, and, on one hand, it’s very endearing... Jake Peralta is more than just a good cop; he’s excellent. Brilliant and bold, maybe even too much sometimes, although he usually gets away with it. Usually, she’s always on his heels and she hates to admit it, but her mommy brain and restless hormones are making it much harder, if not impossible, to keep up with his always upbeat pace. 

“Of course I knew, babe.”

No matter how hard she tries, she can’t even find it within herself to be genuinely annoyed with him. He’s pulled her back into his arms and is looking at her with that mischievous smile that can both infuriate and enchant her. Tonight it’s a little bit of both although mostly the latter, she has to admit and the last bit of annoyance melts away the second he leans in, offering her a soft kiss that lets reminds her of the fact that he’s the best thing in the whole damn world. 

“I love you,” she manages to mumble against his lips before he can pull too far back, her swollen fingers cradling his jaw to emphasize her words. It tampers with any kind of reasoning and her ability to remain miffed. 

“I love you too...” her husband mumbles back against her lips. 

Pulling away isn’t an option, he’s too addicted and he enjoys feeling the air coming from her nose when she chuckles. “How much?”

“At the very least enough to not make my heavily pregnant wife canoe around a lake.” 

“Peanut and I appreciate that very much.”

Although after all these months there’s a comfort and familiarity in being able to rub her belly and know her son is in there, safe and sound, knowing he soon enough will be out here in the real world with them has butterflies fluttering in her chest. Jake’s hand joining hers in stroking her belly only causes the number of butterflies to multiply, explode all over again, and her hormones are making her question whether she wants to cry or laugh - or perhaps do both. After such a long wait, from the second they decided to start trying, there’s no blaming her impatience. There’s so much to expect and patience has never been her strongest asset. Only when it comes to Jake and their son. She’s impatient to see, hear and feel it all. The life and adventure she’s created with the man she loves the most seems scarily close yet torturously far away. 

With no reason to leave in sight, Amy finds herself bundled up in a hotel bed sent from heaven, wearing nothing but panties and her favorite nursing bra. Jake is on an errand run to grab her the creme cheese-filled pierogis and Arroz con Leche their son and she are very much craving. Although she does prefer her abuela’s homemade version of the latter, even a pregnant Amy can come to terms with the fact that there are limits to Jake’s super husband-powers. He can and will get her almost anything as long as physically possible - or within a radius of 20 miles which Abuela Dolores at this given time for good reasons isn’t. 

Amy had insisted on the hotel’s room service menu being more than fine, but her husband knows her all too well and could tell she wasn’t content with the ravioli and créme brulée she’d originally settled for. Before she could even begin to protest his offer to run out and get it for her, her husband had pulled on a pair of jogging pants and a hoodie, grabbed his keys, and left her behind with a peck to the top of her head and a promise to be back in not too long. 

In all honesty, the ravioli and creme brulée would’ve been fine, and she would’ve preferred Jake to be here to cuddle her. Nonetheless, there’s no denying how loved and important Jake makes her feel. Especially when he suddenly walks in the door, multiple plastic bags hanging on his arms and car keys dangling from his mouth. The view is hilarious, to say the very least, and she wonders: how did she ever get so very lucky? 

Perhaps she will never know the answer to this. Luckily when you’re cuddled up in a soft hotel bed eating pierogis, fries, grapes, and Arroz con Leche with the love of your life, it doesn’t really matter how you got there. Being too busy talking, eating, and making out, the documentary about the history of paper Amy’s been dying to watch is mostly just background noise. 

“Can you believe we’re having a baby?”

Her husband’s mouth is filled with fries and before she can even think of answering his question, she has to reach over to wipe ketchup from the corner of his mouth. 

“Yes… but also no. In a good way.”

It’s true. She always knew she wanted kids but wanting is one thing; actually outliving it still seems surreal to her, even as she runs her hands around the curve of the skin encapsulating their very own little human being. What makes it so much more surreal is the fact that Jake Peralta is the father. Jake Peralta, the guy who she 6 years ago could only pine for. Now she’s lying in bed with him, watching him smile at her with those soft, brown eyes and warm rosy lips that she not so secretly hopes their son will inherit. He swiftly wipes oil and salt off his fingers before reaching over to place his hands on top of her belly. Placing hers on top of his happens like a newfound reflex of hers. His hand is warm and feels like home.

“This is probably the last getaway we’ll have, yanno, just the two of us.”  

His soft voice has her looking up from their joined hands on her belly to see him looking directly at her with glistening eyes, the blue light from the television casting a blue hue on the side of his head. He looks so handsome, pensive, so perfect and she can’t come to terms with the fact that he’s her’s and she his, and together they’ve created new life.

“Yeah. More likely than not.” 

“How do you feel about that? Are you scared? You know- of giving birth and how life will be after that?”

A few beats of silence go by, only the dull sound of the tv filling the otherwise silent room. His hand never slips out of from beneath hers. Does this question maybe reflect some worries of his? 

“Not scared, per se...”

She quickly makes sure that there’s no food in-between them before scooting in closer to him. Her hand slips off of his only to slide up his arm, all the way up to cup his face. There’s close to no room between them. Her thumb dances across his cheekbone. 

“... Excited, maybe a bit anxious, but I know it’ll be alright and so very worth it in the end. And yeah, our life nd dynamic might have to change a bit but it’ll always be us. But I’m not scared,” This seems to put a damper on his running mind. “And you know why?”

“Hm?”

“Because I have the world’s best baby daddy.”

As hoped a wide smile lights up his face, pure unadulterated joy so obviously present in this little moment of theirs. Worries seem irrelevant and non-existing. 

“Are you worried, babe?” 

She sees his smile fade a bit but not enough to genuinely worry her. Just like everyone, he has his thoughts and worries. With care comes worries. He wants to do his best, she knows. 

“Maybe a bit, you know? Like not genuinely worried like I would’ve been a few years ago, but just… averagely worried.” 

“That’s okay,” she comforts, her thumb still tracing smooth lines on his cheek. “It’s normal. It just means you care and want to do good, which is all I can really ask of you.” 

“I do care. A lot. So so much,” he chuckles shyly. 

“Which is also why you’re going to be fine, I will be fine and everything will be fine.” 

She doesn’t give him the time to agree nor protest but instead leans in to place a long, tender kiss on his lips, inviting him to join in on the moment.  It’s just a simple kiss, soft, like the one they had a Shaw’s after agreeing to stop trying (which eventually lead to more trying, but that’s beside the point). With every breath, they take the kiss grows deeper, longer. It’s as if their bodies are aware of the fact that this will be the last time they get to do this without a child to get home to; without the responsibility of being a parent. All at once, it’s frightening but also, more than anything, exciting. Their lives might be on the verge of changing forever. Although lying there in bed together, feeling the soft touch of their spouse, it feels like they’ve never changed and never will. They’re always going to be Jake and Amy. 

#B99 Summer 2021 Fic Exchange #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #jake x amy #peraltiago #fluff #brooklyn nine-nine #jake and amy #mac peralta #baby peraltiago #oneshot

[robthomissed]

Life With Sammy

enjoy these little slices of life that I wrote based on a song that really doesn't mean anything but gave me the idea

inspired by Sentimental by WMD

Before Sammy

Life was…..fine. You were living and things weren’t bad but things just felt a little hollow. Every rainstorm or trip to the art museum or meal cooked for one was nice in a lot of ways but you couldn’t help but look around sometimes and feel like it would be nice to have someone there to share it with. Over time the light and color started to drain and each day was just more of the same. The small voice inside you saying it just wasn’t going to happen, time to make peace with being alone.

But then there is Sammy. He barrels into your life all big blue eyes, loud laughs, and warm hugs. You soon realize life with Sammy means more…

Laughter

He was laughing at you. This boy had the nerve to laugh at you even after you told him you had never learned how to skate. Sammy was managing to keep his amusement to soft chuckles as you wobbled along the wall of the Blues practice rink during a pre-season family skate.

“Come on babe, just slow down and watch me.” Sammy said as he helped you off the ice after your fourth fall in the last ten minutes. You weren’t one to stay patient while learning a new skill because your perfectionistic streak took over which was causing your brain to move faster than your feet could learn.

You let out a heavy sigh and took his hands as he proceeded to skate backward with infuriating ease. You focused your attention on his skates to try and pick up on what he was doing. Just as you thought you were getting the hang of it, Sammy's right skate caught a gash in the ice and he flailed backward dragging you down with him. There was a short moment of panic on your part when Sammy stayed quiet and still on the ice after you landed on top of him with his head tucked into your neck. Then after a few excruciating seconds, you felt him start to chuckle and you breathed a sigh of relief.

You both just laid there laughing to yourselves for a minute before he said “Okay, not that I don't love having you on top of me but let’s save it for when we get home.”

This sent you into another fit of blushing and giggling which you tried to hide by tucking your face back into Sammy’s shoulder. When you did finally manage to get yourself up off the ice Sammy still looked overly proud of himself that he had made you blush that hard.

Rain

You were sitting in Sammy’s car one night in the rain and just talking about life. Nothing and everything. Solving the world's problems and ranking the best place to get frozen custard in town. The rain is hitting the car just hard enough that it blocks out any noise from the outside world and creates a little bubble in time and space. It is only you two and the rest of the world is far away. The light from the streetlights coming through the rain-covered windows is lighting up his face in the most gorgeous way. The raindrops are casting shadows that cascade down the side of his face and make the shine of his eyes that much brighter.

Beauty

Sammy is beautiful in the small moments…

The way the summer sun brings out the auburn in his hair

The way his hand looked holding a wine glass

The furrow of his brows when he really focused on something

The way he always opened the door for you

The hugs after a long day

The way his voice sounds talking to your cat when he doesn’t think you are in the room

The crooked smile he gives you in the morning

The way he blushes whenever you tell him how breathtaking he is

Sammy is beautiful in so many ways and you hope one day he’ll actually believe you when you tell him

Relief

You aren’t stupid. You know the risks of playing professional hockey. You had seen numerous guys go down with various injuries in your years as a hockey fan. But having that knowledge in your head couldn’t prepare you for seeing Sammy crumpled in the corner after a crushing hit from you don’t even know who. The play continues up the ice but you can’t make yourself care as you watch Sammy lay still. Why haven’t they blown the whistle…. don't they see him? Finally, Torey gains control of the puck and the refs blow play dead as Ray trots out onto the ice. Robby quickly skates over to help him get to Sammy as fast as possible. The arena has gone so quiet you are sure the people around you can hear your heart pounding. Sammy begins to stir just as Ray and Robby reach him and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Okay. He’s moving. That’s good. Vince and Rouzy deliver a couple more trainers from the bench and then join Robby who is hovering just far enough to be out of the way but close enough to feel involved.

After a long few minutes, Sammy gets to his feet mostly on his own, and after a second of leaning on Vince and one of the trainers he skates off by himself. You stay in your seat for a few minutes unsure of what to do until Sammy texts you telling you they are sending him home but they want you to drive. You are greeted by Sammy’s widest smile as soon as you enter the training room. It makes you feel better that he isn’t flat on his back and seems to be mostly normal.

He gingerly gets himself off the training table and gives you a hug.

“You okay?” you ask into his shoulder

“Yeah babe, I’ll be okay. Just shaken up a bit so they don’t want me driving home” he says after placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“Okay good because I want you to stick around for a while,” you say with a sigh.

“Don’t worry you are going to be stuck with me for a long time” Sammy punctuates his teasing with a poke to your ribs which gets a giggle out of you.

“I think that is a burden I am willing to bear.” you tease back and break into giggles when he sticks his tongue out at you.

“Alright goofball let’s go home and get you off your feet”

Quiet

Sammy has a bit of a reputation for being loud. And he is when he is out with friends or when he gets excited about something but he also has a quiet side. Your favorite times with Sammy were when he was just walking around the apartment in his comfy clothes, a glass of wine in hand trying to decide what movie to watch. It was just so quietly domestic and made your heart do all kinds of fluttery things.

One night he catches you just staring at him while he is puttering around the kitchen making himself a late-night snack. When he notices he just stops what he is doing and asks “What?”

“Oh nothing.” you say quickly looking away trying to hide your blush from being caught.

“No no, tell me.” Sammy says as he circles around the kitchen island to stand in front of you and lean on the counter to block any potential escape.

“It’s- it’s just… I don’t know. I’m just really happy I get to see you like this.” you say blushing and barely making eye contact. Feelings are hard okay.

“ Like what?” Sammy says with just an adorably confused look that twists your gut a little bit more.

You sigh a bit and take a moment to find the right words. “Just this quiet side of you. I love your big and bubbly side but it is nice to know you are comfortable around me like this.”

Sammy looks at you still kinda confused, not saying anything and you begin to panic. “You know what, never mind just ignore me. Just go about your business”

After a few moments of silence, you suddenly find yourself pressed into Sammy’s chest as he tries to almost climb into your lap which is difficult since you were already perched rather precariously on the kitchen counter. You really can’t do anything besides hug him back and chuckle a bit.

When Sammy pulls back he just takes your face in his hands and kisses you on the forehead. “I love you babe. Of course I’m comfortable around you. So stare at me as much as you like.” He gives you a cheeky wink and turns his attention back to his snack.

Pleasure

All the years around various trainers and medical staff must have been what gifted Sammy with the unique ability to consistently find the knot in your shoulder with devastating speed and accuracy. The first time you had asked him to give you a quick shoulder rub after a long day you were not prepared for the targeted attack of his thumbs on your shoulder blades. He actually got a little scared when you let out a little noise of pain after he found a particularly sore spot one night.

“Oh no, did I hurt you!? My mom says I don’t know my own strength sometimes.” You didn’t even have to look back to imagine the way his eyebrows were knitted together with concern.

“No babe it’s fine. It’s that ‘hurts so good’ kinda thing. Keep going” You reassure him while rolling your shoulders to encourage him to continue.

Sammy seemed less than convinced but resumed his task nonetheless. He seemed to be holding back a bit though until he found a particularly tough knot and really went to work on it. You couldn’t hold in the winces and sighs as you felt the tension melt out of your body. It was your turn to be confused when you heard Sammy start quietly laughing behind you.

“Oh what now you are taking pleasure in my pain?” you asked with more than a little sarcasm.

“No, it’s just that I have only heard you make those noises under….different circumstances.” Sammy said with a smirk clearly heard in his voice.

You just rolled your eyes and turned to stick your tongue out at him because you couldn’t really come up with any clever retort. Sammy just continued to look very proud of himself when you announced you were going to make popcorn and he better have a movie picked out by the time you got back.

Struggles

You would be lying if you said that Sammy being out of town so much for a large part of the year wasn’t a strain on the relationship. You were the kind of person who really valued routine and knowing that your partner would be there when you got home most nights. You knew that that wasn’t going to be possible with Sammy and it had actually been the reason you had turned him down the first time he asked you out but thankfully he had persisted and you had decided he was worth it in the end. There were still hard days though because you would come home wanting to cook dinner together and cuddle on the couch but would be greeted by only your cat who was a great cuddle buddy but no replacement for Sammy. On those nights you would call Sammy just to hear his voice and see his smiling face. You were also usually treated to a few guest appearances by Vince and Rouzy who seemed to be ever-present around Sammy on road trips.

So while you still have bad days and crave the stability of a partner with normal working hours you know you wouldn’t trade Sammy for the world when he stumbled in the door dead on his feet but still trying to tell you every stupid thing Wally did and handing you some random airport trinket from whatever city the team had most recently visited.

Promise

Since Sammy had come into your life things had just felt better. You looked forward to getting up every day and seeing what was in store because you had someone to share it with. Sammy being in your life made you want to strive for more. He pushed you to be your best just like you did for him. You both made the other want to keep going to see where life would take you next. You never knew what was around the bend but you did know that you didn’t have to face it alone anymore.

Life with Sammy means more of everything...

#sammy blais #st louis blues #st louis blues fic #sammy blais fic #nhl fic #hockey fic #nhl #hockey #missed writings

[howtosingit]

Fic: On An Ordinary Sunday

TK and Carlos spend a Sunday morning at the park.

*

Written for @911lonestarweek - Day 1: “You’re the only one for me.” + Romance/Fluff

2K | Also on AO3

- - - - -

The summer sun shines brightly in the blue Austin sky over Butler Park, the heat from the blazing inferno having little effect on TK after years spent rushing into flaming structures with little ventilation. He may have made the switch to the paramedic team a while ago, but some things will never leave him, and he’s always thankful for his experience as a firefighter when the relentless Texas sun threatens to roast him alive during the hottest months of the year.

Besides, he finds that he has little reason to complain as he scans the cityscape before him, the constant murmur of the Texas capital all around him. The fresh, gentle breeze feels like a salve against his skin after a long week of wild calls and less-than-adequate sleep, and he sinks down onto the large, soft blanket beneath him, letting the sound of children in the nearby playground lull him into a state of serenity as he rests his eyes beneath his sunglasses, his breathing deep and body relaxed as his anxious mind stills for the first time in what feels like forever.

That is, at least, until a groan from his right pulls him out of his newly acquired Zen-like state. The corner of TK’s mouth slides upwards until he’s wearing a slight smirk, trying to press down the laugh that he can feel crawling up his throat.

“You alright there, babe?” he asks, turning to glance at the man lying next to him on the blanket.

Carlos merely groans again, the sound barely audible from where he has his face hidden inside his balled-up t-shirt that he’s been using as a pillow ever since they sat down on the lawn.

TK bites down on his bottom lip, reigning in his smile as best he can, even though Carlos can’t actually see it. He reaches out, dragging his fingers gently along his fiancé’s bare back, slick with sweat. He feels Carlos shutter beneath him, another groan pulled from deep inside him.

“You know, if you feel so terrible, we could’ve just stayed in bed this morning,” TK reminds him, scooting a little closer to press his lips against his partner’s shoulder, resting his chin there as he stares at his favorite head of wild curls.

“Nuh-uh,” Carlos whines, turning his head slowly towards TK and squinting against the harsh sunlight. TK takes pity on him and brings his left hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, watching as Carlos blinks sadly up at him. “I promised.”

TK rolls his eyes, his heart nearly bursting with all of the fondness he feels for the man laying next to him. When Carlos had realized just how much the week was wearing on both of them, he had vowed to take TK on a relaxing date during their joint day off. Now, here they are, having made plans a few days ago to spend the morning at the park together, just the two of them enjoying the sunshine and, when they get to it, a picnic lunch.

“I know you did, and I appreciate your commitment to never breaking your promises to me,” TK tells him, leaning in to press his lips against Carlos’s loose curls, his fiancé letting out a small sigh at his touch. “But, Carlos, you made that promise before you did multiple tequila shots with Paul last night. I would’ve understood if you needed a morning in bed.”

TK watches as Carlos closes his eyes again, and it’s only because he knows him as well as he does that TK can practically feel the guilt radiating off of the other man. He leans in, pressing the tips of their noses together. “Don’t you dare feel guilty about it either.”

Carlos scrunches his face, letting out a soft whine when the action no doubt causes his head to throb painfully. 

“I just don’t like it when I lose control like that.”

TK pulls back, watching as Carlos opens his eyes to stare at him. He gives him a calculated look. “You don’t like it when you get drunk, or you don’t like it when you get drunk around me?” he asks. His fiancé doesn’t answer, which is all the answer that he needs.

“Carlos, babe, I love that you love me so much that you’re willing to sacrifice a fun night out with our friends for my sake, but you know that I would never ask you to do that. In the three years that we’ve known each other, I can count your wild nights on one hand.”

“I just don’t want you to feel left out or like I’m rubbing it in your face,” Carlos explains, his voice small.

“I mean, you know I’m not the only one in our friend group who doesn’t drink, right?” TK reminds him, running his fingers through Carlos’s curls to soothe him. “Besides, I cannot tell you how much fun I have watching you let loose with Paul and Mateo. They’re some of my favorite memories of you, and I wouldn’t trade for the world.”

“You’re really not mad?”

TK’s heart thumps in his chest at the question, Carlos’s uncertainty nearly splitting it in two. He leans in again, pressing their lips together this time, hoping the act will be enough to reassure the other man. “Of course not.”

When he pulls away, he can tell that Carlos is more relaxed as he lets TK continue to play with his curls. A shadow falls over them as the sun darts behind a small cloud for a moment, and a memory from the night before suddenly flashes through TK’s mind. 

It’s not every day that he gets a chance to tease his well-controlled husband-to-be, and TK refuses to miss an opportunity when it presents itself. 

“However,” he begins, dragging the word out as he runs his fingers down Carlos’s face, tracing his beautiful features, “I would prefer it if you didn’t flirt with the bartender the next time you decide to let loose.”

“What?!” Carlos cries, shooting up into a sitting position so fast that TK swears time jumped ahead a few seconds. “Fuck!” his fiancé yells, pressing his palms against his face. TK is sure his brain is swimming in his skull, and it can’t be a comfortable feeling.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he assures him, moving to sit in front of Carlos, running his hands along his arms to soothe him. “Breathe, Carlos, in and out.” He bites his bottom lip, the guilt rising in his chest at his failed joke.

It takes a few moments of deep inhales and exhales, but Carlos finally lowers his hands, his face pale and pinched. 

“I’m so sorry, babe,” TK laughs, the sound thin as he scoots closer, sliding his hands down to grip Carlos’s wrists. “I promise you didn’t flirt with the bartender, I was just kidding. It was a bad joke, and I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d freak out like that.”

“I would never flirt with someone else,” Carlos says, his tone serious and his eyes wide as he stares at TK. “I would never hurt you like that, you know that right? Even if I was so drunk that I could barely stand, I wouldn’t. You’re the only one for me, Ty. The only one.”

“I know, baby, I know,” TK says, shaking his head as he takes Carlos’s face in his hands. “C’mere.”

Carlos sinks into him as TK wraps his arms around him, his fingers once more finding their way into his curls. 

“You know, that’s actually exactly what you told me last night, too,” TK finally says, his tone bright as he fills in the gap in Carlos’s memory.

“I did?”

“You did. When you didn’t come back to the table after a few minutes, I went looking for you. Found you talking the bartender’s ear off. He seemed pretty relieved when I finally pulled you away, actually.”

“Oh god,” Carlos groans into his neck. TK clutches him even tighter. “I don’t even remember any of that, or what I might’ve said to him.”

TK flushes, his smile growing as he presses it into Carlos’s dark curls. “I, um, I think it was mostly about me?” he explains, shaking his head a bit at the memory. “He definitely seemed to know who I was when I came up, and you may have said something like, ‘See, Tony, I told you his eyes were like green stars,’ though it was very slurred so I can’t be totally sure that was it.”

“Oh god.”

“I know,” TK says, rubbing his hands up and down his lover’s back. “And then on the way back to the table, you told me I was the love of your life. Many times, actually, and with so much conviction you spilled half your beer all over yourself because you weren’t watching where you were going.” He chuckles when Carlos shakes his head against him. “Tony’s going to be so mad you’ve forgotten him already, you two really seemed to be hitting it off.”

Carlos pulls back to glare at him, and TK admires his willingness to commit to that action while thoroughly hungover. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Just a bit,” TK teases, darting forward to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Sue me for loving how disgustingly cheesy you get when you’re drunk. I don’t get to see it that often.”

“I just like people to know how special you are,” Carlos mumbles, his lips pulled into a pout as his eyes look everywhere but right at him. “And I like to tell you how special you are to me.”

TK practically melts at his fiancé’s confession, his heart pooling into a liquid puddle at the bottom of his stomach. No one has ever loved him the way that Carlos loves him - so open and honest and completely without shame - and even after all this time, the knowing still doesn’t stop the awe and affection that he feels when he gets to experience that level of unyielding devotion. 

“You’re the only one for me, too,” he says, just because he wants to make sure Carlos never has any doubts about how committed he is to what they have, and how much their love means to him, too. “Nothing could ever change that.”

“What if I tell you that I need to go throw up in that trash can over there?” Carlos asks, pointing to a bin along the path to their left. “Would you still want to marry me then?”

TK doesn’t even hesitate. “Not only would I still want to marry you, but I’d even stand next to you and rub your back while you do it. 'In sickness and in health,' right?”

Carlos smiles, reaching up to rub his forehead as he inhales deeply, his nostrils flaring. “Okay, that’s good to know. I mean, I’m not going to do it because I have too much self-respect in the daylight, but it’s still good to know that you wouldn’t call off our engagement.”

TK chuckles, sliding back over to his original spot on the blanket. “Here, lie down again. My offer of back rubs is not conditional to you emptying your stomach in a public trash can.” 

Carlos slowly crawls back down onto the blanket, burying his face into his t-shirt again with a barely audible sigh. TK removes his own shirt this time, bunching it under his own head as he scoots closer to his fiancé, lining up their bodies, skin touching skin. It's a little too hot for it, but he wants to be as close to Carlos as possible, and he's willing to suffer the heat. Without a word, Carlos takes his right hand in his own, linking their fingers together where they rest against the blanket.

TK presses his lips to the solid shoulder in front of him, bringing his free hand up to drag it along Carlos’s spine, providing him as much comfort and security as he can as his fiancé sleeps off his unexpectedly wild evening.

And under the midday Austin sun, on an ordinary Sunday, they’re both finally able to relax.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing #lonestarweekend #lsweekend2021

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Coffee - T. Holland

Okay, I know I have requests but this song came on at work the other day and I felt super emotional and I had to write. The use of Tom was very last minute because I had no actual person in mind for the fic, and there are very little actual defining characteristics so you can imagine it to be absolutely anybody you want!

This has broken me, so I apologize in case it has the same affect.

TW: This story contains mentions of cancer, allusions to death, mentions of death, sadness, angst, allusion to suicide, a character with cancer, and all round sadness about death.

If this content may trigger you in any way possible, please do not engage with this fic. Your personal safety and wellness is important so please take care of yourself, my lovies.

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17. Please do not copy, translate or share outside of the boundaries of tumblr without my permission. Please do not steal my work and market it as your own. Basically, don’t be a dick. Also, the above gif does not belong to me. Credit to @thollandgifs

Also, sorry the format is shit. I write on my phone so it’s hella bad.

Don't stay awake for too long, don't go to bed. I'll make a cup of coffee for your head. It'll get you up and going out of bed.

While his life stood still, hers moved. Most days he could barely move without the nausea taking over. His head pounding, body exhausted and weak beyond recognition. She had established a routine the minute she could. She made sure he had his morning coffee everyday. Whenever his eyes opened, she would be right by his side with his favourite beverage, bringing him breakfast and a warm, loving smile to entice him to get out of bed. She understood on days that his body fought him more than it already was - she was compassionate and considerate. On those days she would help him prop himself in a comfortable position, switch on whatever show they were watching at the time and curl up next to him with her work beside her.

His heart was often overwhelmed with the care she provided him. They were well into the fourth year of their life together, and he had no doubt in his mind that he would love her until his last days. He often solemnly thought of the ring he still had hidden in his drawer of their shared cabinet. He had made a vow to pop the question if he ever recovered, but the thought of that day never coming simply tore another piece from his already dwindling soul.

He would often sit in his chair, or on the bed in their small, studio apartment, watching her flutter around the house in a graceful way only she could. He had memorized her every move when she conducted the most mundane activity. The way she poured a glass of water, the way she tapped her fingers against her thigh to the tune of a theme song, the way she always made his coffee to pure perfection - in a way that nobody else had been able to do.

He had so much love for her, that he was terrified of it slipping away at any moment.

Yeah, I don't wanna fall asleep, I don't wanna pass away. I been thinking of our future 'cause I'll never see those days.

He was 24, and she was 25. They had already planned a life together. They had steady jobs, an intense and passionate love, names picked out for future children, dinner at his parents house every Sunday, lunch with her parents every Wednesday.

He just knew that he had done something to deserve such a fate. At first he was angry, terrified of the possibility of his soul leaving this earth, but as time went on, his self-deprivation grew. Apparently it was common for people in his situation. The fear of dying was clouded by a justification that this was meant to be. He had done something terrible in a past life, and karma was giving him the painful ending he deserved... but he despised the thought, because Y/N didn’t deserve to watch her boyfriend meet his end in this way.

He had thought of near every scenario in his life in which he hurt somebody - cheating on his girlfriend in his first year of college, letting Y/N down time after time, only for her to forgive him. The hurt he caused his parents when he was a teenager and full of such hate for the world. But now, all he could do was pray for forgiveness. He had hope that there was some way he could make it out of this, but he was losing hope rapidly.

Even as he sat with his love on their bed, watching re-runs of How I Met Your Mother, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander.

“When I’m gone,” his voice was croaky, his throat dry and scratchy. “Please tell me you will find somebody else.” He fumbled around to grab her hand, winching as he caught her head snapping towards his in his peripheral vision. He couldn’t turn to see the expression on her face. “You’re so young, so full of life. Your life is going to be so beautiful.”

Her hand was pulled from his, and he steeled what was left of his nerves to get ready for whatever tongue lashing she had planned, but instead he felt the bed dip further beside him, her hands framing his sullen face on each side and softly turning his gaze to meet her own.

“Don’t you say things like that, Tom.” He forced his eyes to stare into her own. His eyes seemed as if they were always ready to release tears, and the intensity of the hurt in her own made his pool unconsciously. “There is no somebody else when the other half of my soul is already with me. I don’t need anybody else because you’re not going anywhere.”

Her thumb brushed away the tear that slipped from his chocolate orbs, ignoring the dark circles underneath that made his face seem further sunken than it was.

“You don’t know that,” he sniffed heavily, dropping his eyes down to his lap. His fingers unconsciously toyed with the bracelet she had given him years ago. A soft, black, faux-leather band. An unfit symbol charm dangled close to the strap, reminding him of her favourite line from her favourite book/movie - the perks of being a wallflower. He had gone wuth her when she got the titular floral piece tattooed on her forearm. She was so happy that day. “One day you’re gonna be in a nice house, a ring on your finger, watching your husband dote over your little baby and you will be at peace in the way I know you crave. I just... I know that will never be me, who slips a ring onto your hand, or waits for you at the end of the aisle. I won’t be the one who holds your hand when you meet your baby, or the one who can give you the life you deserve - the one you want.”

His eyes snapped up to meet her own when he heard her breath grow shaky, but the action caused his brain to lose its equilibrium and he had to close his eyes for a moment. He hated doing so. Every time his eyes were shut, it was a moment that he lost of memorizing every line, curve, angle of her body. He opened his eyes again when able, and he was met with her own eyes as red rimmed as his, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

“Don’t you every talk like that, Thomas Stanley. You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to be the one to do all of those things because you’re going to make it and we are going to love each other until the end of our time, together. I’ll fucking Romeo and Juliet this shit if I have to,” her dark joke was met with a wet laugh from them both, before her face melted back into seriousness. “I’m never gonna need another person, Tommy. I have you, and I will have you forever.”

“You make every day a blessing, my love.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over hers as he gathered the strength in his lead arms to pull her into a hug. “You make hell feel like a summers day, and I cherish every moment I have left with you.”

My life was kinda short, but I got so many blessings. Happy you were mine, it sucks that it's all ending

Their days continued on for another three weeks, the same routine of morning coffee and testing the boundaries of his own fatigue. Three weeks without the dreaded conversation arising again, until she woke to find him staring into the ceiling with such an intense and thoughtful gaze. She knew instantly what was on his mind, and she could feel her heart breaking into more little pieces.

“Tommy?” Her melodic tone was soft, snapping him from his nightmarish reprieve. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing honey. Thinking about us... when we were young and full of life,” he snorted into the dark room, Y/N’s soft laugh pushed through her nose and he felt her smile against his neck. “Just, thinking about how sorry I am for all of this. I’m sorry that I’ve turned your life upside down, that we have changed so much.”

He felt weaker. His body was fighting to hold on, and he felt that they both knew that. He was being eaten up from the inside out, but he couldn’t bear to leave. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t leave her alone. He needed her, he loved her. He wanted to be her husband and give her everything she wanted in life. He wanted to live, for her.

“I would change everything if it meant I could be here with you,” her voice was heavy, riddled with sleep. Neither of them get much rest anymore. He is always up and down, and she frets too much to sleep through his late night jolts and retches. “You’re worth every minute of every day, Tom. You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not like you chose to have Can-“

“Don’t say it, baby, please?” He pled, silencing her before she could say the word. He hadn’t once uttered it since the day he found out. She had relayed the information to their families, holding his hand the entire time as he sat motionless. “Makes it more real than my emo ramblings.” His laugh was humorless, but he didn’t intend it to be so.

She apologised softly, snuggling closer to him. She knew how much he loved the feel of her body on his, how the intimacy of the comfort made him feel warm. Back when he could handle the weight, she would sometimes wake up curled on top of his chest because he had sought her out in his sleep.

“I would do anything for you, Tommy. I would give up everything I have just to see you smile. You’re the other half of my soul, my infinity.”

He felt a tear slip down his cheek. Her words always had that affect on him, but he loved the way she could send his heart beating with no effort. He loved her. So intensely.

“Sing to me, please?” A request he had let loose so many times before. He adored her voice, and the soft melodies that fell from her lips and lulled him to sleep.

She obliged with a smile on her face, and let the words tumble into his pale skin.

“If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to do...”

Soon you'll be alone, sorry that you have to lose me

Two more months passed. His doctors were satisfied, stating that he was slowly improving. His body was beginning to regain strength. He had begun to grow more hopeful, slowly but surely.

Until there was no chance for hope left.

Y/N made his morning coffee, but when she went to rest it on his bedside, he could barely breathe.

Her fingers dialed emergency services faster than she thought possible, her voice cracking as she sung to him over and over, hands cradling his head in her lap as he whispered his love for her.

The coffee went cold as the red and blue lights approached.

Don't stay awake for too long, don't go to bed. I'll make a cup of coffee for your head. It'll get you up and going out of bed

Tag list: @starshonerose @snookiebrookie @another-lonely-heart @mantlereid

If you would like to be added to my tag list, comment here!

#tom holland angst #tom holland #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #caz writes #deathbed #(coffee for your head) #I’m so sorry #I’m so emotional #this hits home so I had to write it #angst #marvel

[lilbabycee]

tidal // steve rogers 🌊

↳ summary: tony doesn’t trust his kid and steve has to play mediator, although those duties don’t come without a reward

↳ relationship: dad’s best friend!steve rogers x stark!reader

↳ request: steve defending his soft girl when she starts crying when someone yelled at her...maybe she thanks him by putting her mouth to good use @donutloverxo + what about dad’sbestfriend!steve x reader?...I need me some Steve please!! (anon)

↳ word count: 5.4k (this has no business being this long)

↳ warnings: angst, smut, dirty talk, slight degradation, some light fluff kinda

↳ author’s note: i do love a stark!reader so this was so much fun for me - enjoy my loves! x

The relationship that you have with your father is complicated. It reminds you acutely of the foamy sea that you used to tentatively wade in and simply stare at with a wide-eyed, childlike fascination when your parents took you to the Maldives or Seychelles or Ivory Coast, each summer a different place and a different tide. There’s a sense of predictability to it, a routine you have in a language that is understandable to nobody but the two of you. He pushes and you pull, coordinating your movements in a choreographed dance so as to safely row your canoe filled to the brim with trust and love through the rocky seas of life. 

He’s made a mark on you that will always be a permanent imprint on your soul much like the way that water stains the surface of the sand but it’s not as if you perceive that as something negative. You attribute the best parts of yourself to your mother and father and although their DNA isn’t housed inside your body, you’re more Tony’s child than he could have ever asked for. He hears so much of him in the tone of your voice and sees Pepper whenever you cross your arms over your chest and pin him with a look he knows too well - her influence is all over your mannerisms - and the both of them in the charming brightness of your smile when you let yourself laugh freely.

The moment he saw you, barely hours old and sleeping deeply - something that he found out that you would carry with you throughout your years - he’d thought you were cute (all babies are cute and the hundreds of other babies he’d seen in the past few weeks were also cute). But when you’d instinctively gripped Pepper’s finger tightly in your impossibly tiny fist and blinked awake sleepily, he’d fallen in love with your pretty eyes first, the way that you stared through him like you already knew him and it was then that he knew you were his as much as he was yours.

Of course, things weren’t- aren’t always as picture-perfect as they seem. He knows that there are days when you haunt his nightmares, dreams where he can’t protect you plaguing his conscience and causing him to crowd you with what he thinks is love. Rather, it’s an overbearing and often patronizing kind of attention that feels like a thousand sharp needles piercing through your skin. You’re very in touch with your emotions, a quality about you that Tony is sure that you must’ve learned from your mother, while he has the tendency to avoid sentimentality like it’s a disease and that’s where those arguments start, the ones that flare up and spread like forest fires.

In fact, you’re having one of them now. Tony knew how this was going to end before it even began but he can’t help but always engage because he’s as stubborn as he raised you to be. His jaw is set and his nostrils flaring as he stares at you - you’re his progeny, his baby, half of his heart who is standing in that way that reminds him of his wife with crystals in your eyes that make him wonder if you ever wear that diamond necklace he bought you last year.

“You never take me seriously,” you accuse, narrowing your eyes at him which causes a fat teardrop to spill over and run down your cheek. His eyes soften briefly at the sight of your emotional state before he looks away, the painful tugging at his heart trying to pull him towards you. He won’t give in to it: that’ll mean you win. “See - you can’t even look at me, Dad-”

“Sweetheart, I take you plenty seriously,” Tony gnaws on the end of the pen in his mouth, still sitting in front of the holograms of all of the data he’s been trying to process for the past few hours. His feet are propped up on the table, casually crossed at the ankles and shoulders completely relaxed, leaning back in his chair and balancing precariously one of the wheels, sitting in the exact same way that he always told you not to. He taps out a rhythmic beat against his leg with his fingers, eyes darting around the room as he pretends to be interested in everything but you. 

His entire posture radiates the feeling that he doesn’t give a shit about you or what you have to say and it makes your heart sink to your stomach despite the fact that you know this man. You know that he’s just putting on a front and he’s really listening because he was the one who drilled into your head that you always have something to say that’s worth listening to. Yet you cannot for the life of you accept that this man in front of you is acting so coldly when his own daughter is trying to tell him how she feels.

The scoff that comes out of your mouth is involuntary and Tony can’t fight the twitch of his lips because it sounds so much like him, but he only lets it linger for half a second, not allowing you to see how affected he is. Both him and Pepper were under the impression that once they had kids, Tony would finally take the steps towards being willing to share more of himself with the people around him. And he did, for a while. But once you hit those teenage years, he was forced to come to terms with the fact that you wouldn’t be his baby forever - you’d grow up and think your own thoughts and breathe your own air in an environment that he hasn’t polluted with his own ideals. 

His heart beat out of his chest every time he thought about it and he had to face the facts: he was scared. And so he went on the defensive, coddling you and trying to shield you from the harsh realities of the world that he had to face from such a young age. Unfortunately for the both of you, you didn’t appreciate being spoon-fed by your parents your whole life: you have a sense of maturity and independence that Tony is terrified of and it manifested itself in rebellion, a phase in your adolescence hat had almost gotten cost you your life in more situations than he cared to admit. 

“I’m not kidding, Dad,” you reply, your head feeling as if it’s under construction because the unbearably loud banging on the inside of your brain is driving you crazy because he’s deflecting and you know it. A river of tears slide their way down to your chin and you don’t even bother to wipe them. “And you keep making jokes like this isn’t serious-”

“I haven’t been making jokes,” Tony points out calmly, playing around with a bunch of numbers that don’t mean anything to you and distractedly manoeuvering some stupid data table that is somehow more interesting than his own child. 

As much as you try, you genuinely can’t help it when you stomp your foot, the loud noise breaking through Tony’s nonchalance and causing him to arch an eyebrow at you. 

“This isn’t some temper tantrum, Dad,” you tell him, the strength in your voice breaking down and causing it to crack. Your hands come up to clutch your head tightly in a futile attempt to bring yourself back to Earth, tired of the way that your emotions throw your brain into orbit. Your feet are on the ground but it doesn’t feel like it, your rage burning your skin and setting a bonfire in the depths of your body. “You fight me on everything - first it was college then it was working for S.I then it was becoming an Avenger… you think I’m still some little kid-”

“Because you’ve proven time after time that you can’t fend for yourself,” Tony cocks his head as your eyes lock, daring you to challenge him on his statement because the two of you know how much validity it holds.

“That was one time!-”

Tony sighs, shaking his head in what you assume is disappointment and while in any other scenario your heart would’ve sunk, this time it stays where it’s been for the past ten minutes, perishing in the flames licking the sides of your stomach. He gathers some of his papers and tucks the pen in his mouth behind his ear before he starts to make his way to the door, leaving you to stare at his back as his hand drops on the handle and he addresses you again. “One time that you could’ve gotten killed, Y/N, so we’re not doing this today-”

“You know what, Tony?” 

You’ve never called him that before - not even when you’re in large crowds and everyone seems to be yelling Dad! - and you know it’s vindictive and a step too far but it’s exhausting being treated like a helpless child. This has the desired effect, freezing him in his tracks and as he turns on his heel, you know that you may have crossed a line but you can’t bring yourself to care because your fury has consumed your whole body and the heat is boiling the blood running through your veins.

“What did you just call me?”

“Anthony,” you inform him matter-of-factly, hands on your hips while the hardness of his eyes halts your racing blood flow, the iciness freezing your bones while hot rage seeps out of every single one of his pores so palpably that you can almost see the steam spilling out of his ears. “You can fuck right off until you decide that I can be trusted enough to make decisions for myself and you know what else? You can-”

“Hey, hey, what’s going on in here?” 

You bite back your next words as soon as that rich timbre caresses your ears and the rigid posture of your body begins to slowly melt at the sound. You don’t even have to look behind you to know that it’s your dad’s best friend - ever the hero - coming to diffuse the ticking time bomb that is this argument between you and your father.

“This isn’t your battle to fight, Rogers,” Tony doesn’t peel his eyes off of you at all, not even sparing his friend a glance. 

And as much as you don’t like Tony at the moment, you can’t help but agree with him.

“Steve, he’s right,” you tear your eyes away from your dad, turning around so that you can glance over at the golden man whose presence alone has wrapped you in a comforting safety blanket that already makes you want to stand down. 

“No, neither of you are,” his blond hair is pushed back away from his face and you’re momentarily distracted by the hard lines of his jaw and the thick beard that covers them. He’s speaking in that same low voice that he uses to rally the Avengers when he’s clad in red, white, and blue, and you have to discreetly squeeze your thighs together at the sound. 

The rational part of your brain knows that this is not the time to be ogling your dad’s best friend but you can’t help the way that your heart starts beating double time when he enters a room and how his warm gaze sets your entire body alight, not unlike the way that your unbridled anger is making you feel right now; the only difference is that Steve triggers a deep desire for something unknown tucked away so secretly that it only awakened when you met him.

But you know he’d never do that to Tony - shit, you don’t know if he’s still holding a candle for a love once lost all those years ago and frankly, you don’t want to risk embarrassing yourself by feeling the poison sting of rejection dealt from the sickeningly sweet lips of America’s apple pie. The lethal mix of sugar and malice would only rot your heart and you don’t know that you could survive the decay.

“In fact, both of you are acting like children,” he booms, his hands landing on his hips while he shakes his head disbelievingly at your familial dispute. Steve opens his mouth as if he’s about to continue, but Tony simply holds a hand up and it almost immediately shushes the supersoldier.

“No need, Capiscle,” Tony cocks his head to the side almost mockingly, his eyes still glued resolutely on your wet face. “I just wanna say this: if you are going to be so ungrateful of everything that your mother and I have sacrificed for you, then you can get the fuck out of my house. You have no idea what we’ve had to go through just so that you can live a safe, healthy lifestyle in which you don’t have to want for anything. The fact that you have the audacity to speak to me like that is a testament to how much we’ve failed as parents because you are the fruit of all of our labor: a spoiled little brat with no conception of the real world because everything revolves around you, doesn’t it princess?”

He spits the endearment out and you can only assume that it is because it has left as bitter a taste in his mouth as it has yours. Throughout his heated rant, your hands started shaking and at first, you couldn’t figure out why but you soon realized that it’s because Tony’s never yelled at you like that before. He barely even raises his voice at you because he’s never wanted to be anything like Howard but today, it seems as if he could no longer contain all of the pent up frustration that he’s had with you that has been building for years. 

And because of this, you’ve been rendered speechless with no visible emotion on your face save from the seemingly endless stream of tears that spill from your glassy eyes. You don’t know what hurts more: his words or the fact that he’s still staring at you like a stranger.

“Tony, that’s enough,” Steve intervenes when the silence between the three of you stretches on for what feels like an eternity. He positions his body so that he’s blocking you from your father’s cold stare. “I’m not gonna let you talk to her like that-”

“Oh, come on, Cap,” Tony scoffs and you don’t have to be able to see him to know that he’s folded his arms over his chest. “You don’t even know what-”

“And I don’t need to know,” the broad man in front of you interrupts him loudly and you can do nothing but watch the altercation happen because even if you tried, you can’t pick your feet up off the floor. “Whatever she’s done or said to you doesn’t warrant you speaking to her like that. You’ve fought her at every corner, what do you expect? For her to just lie down and take it? She’s your daughter: you should know as well as I do that she’s as hard-headed as you. You need to take a step back and stop being a backseat driver - she’s an adult now and can make her own choices, Tony.”

And with that, Steve circles an arm around you and lifts you up into his arms, his waist trapped between your legs and your arms gripping his neck. A moment passes when Steve breezes past Tony where your gazes meet and the usual sweetness of his hazelnut eyes has turned bitter with guilt and resentment. You avert your stare as quickly as you can to bury your face in Steve’s muscled shoulder and as your cheek rests on it, you’re reminded all too vividly of the way that Bucky or Sam or Steve (or your dad) used to carry you to bed when you had fallen asleep between the pages of your textbook or face down next to a cold bowl of whatever Pepper had cooked for you that night. 

Really, you’re almost convinced that you must’ve dozed off during the short trip from Tony’s lab to your bedroom because when you finally snap back to attention, you’re still in Steve’s arms but he’s standing still in front of your bed. And neither of you say anything for some time, letting the moment breathe while Steve soothes you silently, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your spine as quiet sobs wrack your shaking body.

“Hey, hey,” he hushes you, eventually sliding you down his body and placing you on the bed. You’re sure that your face still reflects your previous mental state but you feel significantly better now, the hive of bees that were slamming at the insides of your heart have tired both you and themselves out and are now resting. You look up at Steve with wide eyes, wet lashes brushing your skin lightly as his baby blues drill into yours so deeply that you’re sure that he must be able to see inside your head by now. “I’m not gonna ask if you’re okay because the answer seems kind of obvious, but I will ask if you need anything?”

You hesitate before giving him an answer, torn between confessing those powerful feelings for him that you’ve tried so hard to repress and letting him go. Instead, you grab one of his hands between both of yours, tugging on it so that he kneels in front of you. 

“You didn’t have to do that for me back there,” your eyes flick up to his quickly and you can’t help it when you start to play with his fingers, consciously having to stop your mind from wandering to unsavory places. “I-I know you and my dad are, like, best friends, so I never would’ve asked you to put your friendship at risk and stand up for me like that… it was, uh- it was really sweet of you, Steve, so thank you-”

Steve jerks his head back and for a tense second, your heart drops because you’re sure that you’ve offended him but then he says:

“Y/N, you don’t have to thank me- not at all, I mean- it was the human thing to do,” Steve insists, forcefully grasping your chin in his large hand to make him look at you. The disbelief that sparkles in his eyes lights up your soul and makes a shy smile spread across your lips. 

He leans in to plant a chaste kiss on your cheek like he usually does, but you decide there and then that you really are tired of having your dad take the reigns from you every day. You want to be able to confidently grab life by its metaphorical balls and take a leap of faith off of what is admittedly a very steep cliff. So you grip his face between your hands and redirect his lips to your own. 

He’s completely unresponsive for several seconds, causing a scorching hot wave of embarrassment to flood your face - a part of you wants to hold out hope and pray that maybe he’s just shocked by your bold move but you’ve learned not to cling onto unrealistic expectations so you move back, eyes squeezed shut because you can already taste the sourness of rejection on your tongue. 

But he knocks all of the breath out of your body when he climbs on top of you and crashes his lips back on yours, cradling your face between his wide palms as he slides his tongue into your mouth. It’s messy and raw as your teeth clash with his almost violently but the feeling of his soft lips on yours soothes that ache, their warmth curing the hurt in your heart. He swallows any breath you have left in your lungs as your lips move in tandem with his. 

When you pull away because you think you’re about to suffocate, Steve presses his lips down the column of your neck, sucking a bruise right underneath your ear and playfully biting your earlobe. The rough sensation of his thick beard on your sensitive skin makes you giggle breathlessly and your chest heaves as his hands move smoothly down to your waist, hooking his thumbs in the waistband on your shorts. 

But then his hands stop moving and you look at him with confusion written all over your face. He lowers his head to your abdomen, resting his forehead on your stomach and your hand instinctively weaves through the golden strands of his hair. 

“Steve?-”

“You want this, sweetheart?” he kisses your stomach and moves right in between your legs, looking up at you as his thumbs still toy with the stretchy material of your black shorts. 

“Of course-”

And you don’t get to finish your sentence because you gasp as Steve whips off your shorts with unprecedented speed. He takes your panties right with them, throwing them somewhere to the side - you don’t care to notice where because Steve’s eyes are more black than blue and his gaze is locked on your core. 

This is when you get an idea.

When you take your t-shirt off, you’re only left in the black bralette that you normally wear around the house, so you whip that off too without any preamble. Steve’s eyes are so focused on the bounce of your breasts that it gives you the opportunity to muster up all of the energy you can, locking your legs around Steve’s waist (your eyes can’t help but travel to the obvious bulge in his blue jeans) and flip him over so that you’re sitting right on top of his erection. 

“Wh-”

You shush him, pulling at the bottom of his shirt so that he gets the message to take it off. He does as he’s told but narrows his eyes at you. You almost don’t notice because you’re staring at the glorious expanse of his sculpted upper body. You’ve always thought that he looked like a Greek statue and right now, the way that the sunlight streaming through your window bounces off of his smooth skin and brings out the green in his eyes only emphasizes the fact that he’s a true work of art, a masterpiece in his own right. 

Pushing yourself up so that you’re nose to nose with the supersoldier on his back underneath you, you lean down just enough so that your lips ghost over his when you speak. 

“I’m supposed to be thanking you,” you press your lips against his momentarily, watching the way that his eyelashes flutter when you slowly slide your hand down his powerful chest, over his muscled stomach and down to his jeans-clad crotch to boldly palm his dick. 

“Honey, you don’t have to-”

You cut him off with another quick kiss, moving down his body with the grace of a trained dancer (you can thank your mom for over ten years of ballet) so that you can unbuckle the black belt at his narrow waist. Steve props himself up on his forearms, staring down at you with hooded eyes and your eyes keenly follow the swipe of his tongue over his cotton candy lips.

You take your time pulling his zipper down, noticing how his eyes follow the movement of your hands as you push his jeans down his thick thighs. Your mouth is close to watering at the sight of his white Calvins which are very obviously tented in the front and you snap the elastic band of his boxer briefs playfully before pulling them over his erection.

It’s impossible to stop the way that your eyes grow comically large at the size of his cock, something at the back of your mind wondering whether or not you’ll be able to fully take him down your throat. He’s heavy in the both of your hands, the tip flushed red and leaking pre-cum. 

But it’s the cocky little smirk on Steve’s face that steels your resolve. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Too big for you?” he teases you in a surprisingly steady voice, inhaling again to continue his jeering, but his head falls back and his breath audibly stutters because you flatten your tongue and lick a broad stripe up the underside of his dick.

“You were saying?” you taunt right back, a smile of your own gracing your face. He doesn’t have a reply to that, instead moving his hand down to grip the back of your neck tightly, guiding you back down to his cock.

The tip of your tongue swirls around the head of his length before you take the bulbous tip between your lips, sucking lightly and enjoying the way that his blunt fingernails are stabbing into the skin of your neck. You don’t tease him for much longer, one hand on the base of his manhood while you relax your throat and attempt to take all of him in your mouth. Your fight your gag reflex tooth and nail, reveling in the quiet sighs and moans from the man above you.

What you can’t swallow you work with your hand, your other hand coming up to toy with his balls and roll them between your fingers and palm. He controls the speed at which you bob up and down his cock and you keep watching the array of emotions on his face, feeling the power and control that you have over him surge through your body.

“God, doll,” he groans, his lower lip between his perfect teeth. “You’re such a good girl, takin’ all of me like that.”

His words spur you on and you really push your boundaries by taking him all the way down, so close that your nose is being tickled by the dark blond hairs at the base of his cock. What you’re not expecting is the way that Steve applies pressure to the back of your neck that’s just enough so that you can’t move. Your eyes sting as he keeps your head down, making you swallow and choke as small tears leak from your eyes. You’re forced to breathe through your nose as Steve groans when your gag reflex kicks in, your throat constricting around the heavy weight of his dick.

“Such a good little slut, huh?” he smirks, running the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, baby, suckin’ your dad’s friend off like a little fuckin’ whore.”

You can’t help the way that a loud moan falls from your lips, though it’s almost entirely muted by the thick cock in your mouth. 

“Oh, you like that?” Steve’s confidence is only making you wetter. He eases up on your neck, allowing you to withdraw about an inch before he pushes you back down. “You like being called a slut, pretty girl?”

You nod as best as you can under the circumstances, fighting back another moan.

“That’s good, honey, because you’re gonna be my little cockslut from now on, hmm?”

And finally, he pulls you off of him completely, reveling in the way that your eyes are glossy with tears and your lungs gulp down huge breaths as thin strings of saliva hang from your lips. 

“Messy girl,” Steve reprimands you condescendingly, but his voice sounds strained and he looks like he could cum just from drinking in your disheveled state. “You’re gorgeous, doll.”

You can’t stop the smile that grows on your face at the praise, and Steve cups your face gently and leans in to give you a sweet kiss. 

“You gonna let me cum in your mouth, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your lips, nudging your nose with his. 

“Yes, sir,” you tease playfully, not wasting any more time and wrapping your lips around his dick once again, running the tip of your tongue against the prominent vein down the side while you bob your head up and down. You’re more determined than ever to push him over the edge, wanting to be the one who has complete control over his pleasure. 

“That’s it, just like that- shit, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he warns you after he takes your face between both of his hands and fucks your mouth, your jaw relaxed as he uses you to chase his orgasm, eyes closed and head hanging back as he loses himself in the throes of desire. 

You bask in the sense of satisfaction that you get from the way that his cock twitches in your mouth and the shout that he gives when the evidence of his release floods your mouth. You happily let it slide down your throat, sucking on his tip lightly as you do. The tangy taste lingers on your tongue and as you pull off of him with a pop, you have to wipe around your mouth because you’re sure that he’s made a complete mess of your face. 

“Holy fuck, darlin’,” he heaves, pulling you up to rest against his chest but not before you take the time to admire how beautiful he is. A light pink flush that’s started at his cheeks has traveled down his neck and bloomed on his chest - you love the way that it’s burning the tips of his ears. With your chest pressed against his, he ghosts his fingers up and down your back while his lips press against your shoulder.

“Your dad’s gonna kill me… and I didn’t even get you off, baby,” he mutters, only a second away from pouting and it makes you grin. 

“He won’t because he’s not gonna find out… and I didn’t want you to,” you reply simply, lightly circling one of his nipples with the tip of your nail. “Besides, you have plenty of time to do that later.”

Steve readjusts himself so that his back is leaning against the headboard and you’re perched in his lap, straddling his thighs. His brows are knitting together and a frustrated frown mars his pretty face. 

“No, I want to,” he insists, warm hands landing on your hips and rocking them back and forth so that your clit catches on the muscles of his legs. You bite your lip so as to suppress a moan. “It wouldn’t be-”

“Y/N, babe, are you in there?”

The two of you still as a knock followed by Tony’s soft voice bleeds through the door. 

“Shit,” you curse quietly, scrambling off of Steve and grabbing the nearest article of clothing that you can find. 

“I know you don’t wanna talk to me right now, but I don’t wanna leave things like this so I’m comin’ in, sweetie-”

“Dad, no!”

But it’s too late, the door opening just enough to reveal your father’s face whose whiskey eyes immediately land on yours. Thankfully, you were able to pull on Steve’s shirt and your shorts, but you can’t say the same for the six-foot-something supersoldier who has skillfully rolled underneath your bed, still naked as the day he was born. 

“What’s going on in here, hon?” Tony quirks an eyebrow at you as he pops his head around the door, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as his eyes scan the room. 

“Nothing,” you say breathlessly, running a hand over your face as you silently pray that your dad won’t catch his friend hiding beneath your bed with no clothes on. 

“Okay?” he draws out the word, obviously confused as your eyes meet his. “I just wanted to say so-”

“We’ll talk about it later, Dad,” you try to smile and move towards him so that you shoo him away from your room.

“You sure?”

“Positive,” you affirm, putting your hand on top of the one he has wrapped around the side of the door and squeezing it reassuringly. 

“If you say so,” Tony lets go of the door, spinning on his heel and starting to stroll down the hall. You let go of the breath that you weren’t aware you were holding. “And give Bucky back his shirt!”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest as your heart warms watching your dad throw a wink at you over his shoulder, knowing that the choppy seas have stilled and the water’s calm once again, the tide returning to its regular routine. You shut the door with a click before turning back to see Steve sitting casually with his back resting against the side of your bed.

“So, uh,” a cheeky smile graces his face. “Same time tomorrow or?”

tagged: @literaturefeen @evnscvll @donutloverxo @stargazingfangirl18​

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers blurbs #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #steve x reader #steve x you #stark!reader

[highfaelucien]

Ardere - A Helion/Lady of Autumn Fic

y’all heathens made me have feelings so i wrote a thing. hurt/comfort, angst, all sorts. Tagging some folks who inspired this with their emotional dashboard shenanigans/that I feel would Appreciate the content. @exiledelain @confused-as-all-hell @asteria-of-mars @ratabrasileira @ladyvanserra @vanserrasvalkyrie @rarephloxes  @queen-hypaxia

Title: Ardere

Length: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, given Lady Autumn’s situation

Summary: Set during the High Lords meeting in ACOWAR. Canon compliant, I suppose, but do any of us care about that anymore?? Hestia, the Lady of the Autumn Court, seeks her oldest lover and comfort Helion for a stolen night of love and reconnection. Helion POV, emotional hurt/comfort, bit of angst.

Teaser:

‘" Hestia," he whispered, with the same reverence he'd speak the name of a goddess in her holiest temple.

Instinct bade him go to her, and he did not fight it. He didn't even try.

For a moment he thought she might refuse him, might insist upon caution. But the next she was in his arms, and as he held her close and breathed her in, he knew he hadn't been truly warm since last he'd been able to embrace her.

"Helion," she murmured into his chest.

The sound of her voice wrapped around his name was the sweetest torture he'd ever known. All Hyben need do to break him was ask him to defect in her voice and he would obey without a thought.

AO3: Link

"I cannot spare long." 

The book he'd been flipping idly through dropped at once from his fingers at the sound of that voice.

Before he'd finished turning to her, her scent hit him. So warm, so inviting, it nearly knocked him back into his chair.

Then he beheld her.

The first time he'd clapped eyes on her, all those centuries ago, she'd left him breathless and stunned. 

Like an Autumn storm that had ravaged every part of his being and left him, naked and awed, before its power and majesty. She had blown into his life with an unexpected abruptness as yet unmatched.

He'd been an arrogant prick at that age. Cauldron, he was still an arrogant prick. But he'd been used to everyone's eyes, male or female, following him as he moved through a room. 

Those gazes found him and they didn't leave. He was High fae. He was a High Lord's heir. He'd been made to rule Day and to look damned good while doing it.

 He'd been accustomed to being wanted, to inspiring lust and envy by simply existing.

Never, before her, had he been on the other side. 

He'd never seen someone so beautiful. So consuming and captivating that he hadn't been sure of being able to win their lust and love with a simple smile and an effortless word.

She'd shaken something in him that day. She had entered his world and unmade him with a glance. Then reconstructed him, exactly as she'd found him, with one stark difference. At the core of the man she had rebuilt was a need for her. Not merely her beautiful body, but her heart, her soul. He'd known, in that moment, that she had him. And always would.

The years had taken much from her. And holy gods, did he know it. But they had not taken this, her ability to so thoroughly destroy him that he was reborn at once as her servant in but a single glance.

" Hestia," he whispered, with the same reverence he'd speak the name of a goddess in her holiest temple.

Instinct bade him go to her, and he did not fight it. He didn't even try.

For a moment he thought she might refuse him, might insist upon caution. But the next she was in his arms, and as he held her close and breathed her in, he knew he hadn't been truly warm since last he'd been able to embrace her.

"Helion," she murmured into his chest.

The sound of her voice wrapped around his name was the sweetest torture he'd ever known. All Hyben need do to break him was ask him to defect in her voice and he would obey without a thought.

For all that he made a show, and tell, if he was fair, about what the Cauldron gave him with regards to his body, particularly his glorious thighs, that wasn't his true pride.

No, the thing he held most valuable was his mind which contained the knowledge of a thousand libraries and more.

He didn't earn his name by clearing through spells with his thighs. Fuck no. His wit, his cunning, his intellect, that was where his true power, his true strength as a High Lord came from.

That was why Hestia had always managed to claim him so thoroughly. All these centuries later and he still couldn't think around her. Couldn't form a single coherent thought while her scent filled his lungs. It travelled from there directly to his brain, and filled it with stolen afternoons and illicit nights spent in the only place they truly belonged.

Drawing away, in itself an agony, but one he was rewarded for, as it let him look into her face.

He cradled it between his hands, so careful. so delicate. She was not a fragile woman, he knew that well. She was of the forge, with fire in her veins, and iron in her bones.

The world saw the silence, the frailty of her body, and the resignation of her fate and mistook that for softness, and docility. He knew better.

This woman put the heroes of the War to shame. Her strength, her courage, her will - if they had any idea they'd have written epic poems about her resilience and ballads to her spirit. 

Drakon wouldn't have lasted an hour in her place. Had she been in his, the damned War would have ended so fast they wouldn't have been able to call it one.

Yet he held her with all the gentleness that was in him. Not because he feared she might break without it; but because he knew she would find none elsewhere.

His fingers tenderly brushed her hair from her eyes. Like her, their, son's it was a red as sure as blood. But hers spiralled from her in a cacophony of raucous curls. They were contained, now, with a thick leather band around her head. He would always remember them wild, and free, as she was meant to be.

As he moved them aside, he saw the shadow of a bruise around one of her beautiful russet eyes. Hidden well, but...

His body went taut, jaw clenching instinctively. She felt the tension coiling in him, and laid her hands gently over his.

"Don’t," was all she said, voice soft, but unyielding, like the sun’s gentle rays as it rose each morning.

"Not a heartbeat has passed for me since that day," he rumbled, voice deeper and darker than his usual light, playful timbre." That I have not thought about the choice that was made, and begged the Mother to let me change it." 

She faced him steadily and said, " You know I made the choice that was available to mem" she moved closer, her body melting against his, like the hot metal of a blade folded around itself to create something more, "Not the one I wanted."

"I know, my hearthlight,” he whispered softly, sensing her smile at the old pet name he used for her, “And I would never blame you for that. But as for myself-"

A coward. This woman. This holy, burning creature. This caged forest fire... She loved a coward.

Hestia placed a finger to his lips, silencing him, " What good does it do," she murmured the rich warmth of her voice caressing him like a thick blanket on a cold winter night, “To dwell upon the past? To linger, in misery, and shame in a single moment of your immortal life?”

He opened his mouth to answer her, but she knew him too well, and silenced him with but a single look.

"Will your regret force back the sun?” she demanded with that quiet spirit he loved so keenly, “Will your sadness take us back? Will your guilt rewrite the pages of the history books which have been gathering dust in your libraries for centuries?" 

She was such a small thing. She always had been. And seemed more so, held between his muscular arms. Yet she dwarfed him now.

Like the flicker of a candle flame catching and summoning a raging inferno to remind him she was but a fragment of a force of nature, bound in skin, but never truly caged.

"If I could have," he said at last, voice a little hoarse as though he'd inhaled thick smoke, “I would have done so a thousand times over. And paid any price to do so."

He had tried. He'd never confess it to another soul, not even to the Mother herself upon his deathbed, but he had tried. Tried to rip apart the fabric of all reality with nothing but his bare hands and love for her.

A part of him was still surprised that it had not been enough. Because it was. Reality had simply not accepted that particular facet of its existence.

"I know you would have, lucky fluke," all these years and still she called him that. 

A name she'd hung on him to tease the first day they had met. He'd baldly called their meeting the Mother's own ordained fate. She'd laughed, with a sound like falling leaves, and named it, and him, lucky fluke. 

Then, the words had been edged with mockery. Now they echoed with all of their history, with all of their fondness, and all of her love.

"But time goes on. That sun of yours still journeys East to West, and we still live with the decisions we made upon a summer's night a million fireflies' lifetimes ago."

" Hestia-" he began, but she quietened him once more.

"When I wish to look back, Helion, I shall find myself a mirror,” she said, with the strength that had held her together all these decades of pain and misery, turned upon him now to remind him that she would not yield.

“I will not live my life wading through times I have already endured,” she said, voice softer now, but no less intent, “I have no wish to allow him to cause me pain in the few and rare times that are my own. I shall make pleasant moments here, with you, and that is what I ask of you. To be with me. Here. Now. And to love me while we can."

"I am yours, Lady,” he breathed. 

With the same breath he’d first pledged that to her centuries ago. Before the world had taken the freedom she craved so much, and given him a power he’d never wanted. A tattoo of her heart had etched itself over his own, in a vibrant red, a marker of the bargain he’d made. Unintended, but not regretted. 

“From now until my sun fades from this world unto the next," he promised her once more, one hand over his heart.

"Until I find you there as well," she replied, as she had all those years ago, leaning up, while drawing him down, and touching her forehead to his.

He loved her. Oh, Cauldron, he loved her, and whatever the Mother had used to make her, he loved that too.

"Come," she said softly," Let us make the most of what time we have."

So they did.

"What do you want from me, Hestia?" he whispered, pressing the worlds into her thick hair, his face buried in the crown of her head.

She looked at him, and answered as she did each time with aching certainty, and absolute truth." Everything."

"Then take it." he whispered, a devoted priest at last within the presence of his deity, “All I have, and all I do not. Take it all."

So she did.

They had no need of words in that hallowed space when bodies and beings connected, skin to skin, and soul to soul.

The breath it would have cost to provide a vessel for their thoughts would have only felt like a barrier between them.

They had no wish for that.

He knew her thoughts. And she knew his. They did not need to share them with the air and fireflies. 

For themselves, they gave voice to those thoughts in the lost language of lovers. Spoken in the gasps of breath and sweating palms.Thundering hearts, and hungering lips. Gasping lungs, and grasping touch.

And every thought the same: I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Then came the quiet. The gentle tangle of limbs. Eyes closed, heartbeats aligned. Willing the dawn to wait for them.

They did not sleep. They would not waste time on dreams when they already had everything they could ever hope to find in that untamable oblivion already contained within their embrace.

"It has been some time," Helion said at last, loath to break the spell of the silent commune of their souls, but such was his nature,"I thought the most of you I would ever make love to again was the echo of our last time, the memory of you."

He shifted slightly, so that he could see her face, all peaceful lines and soft curls, her eyes still closed.

"Why now, Hestia? With him," his jaw tightened at the mere mention of that excuse for a male, "So close the risk-"

"Is minimal," she interceded smoothly. Still without opening an eye, she continued." I drugged his wine. He shall sleep until daybreak. At least."

Helion opened his mouth, then closed it, refusing to be drawn off course "You didn't answer my question."

"I thought the answer would be obvious to you, lucky fluke," she murmured.

"You know you reduce me to the wits of a mere mortal, hearthlight," he said, half burying the words in her thick hair.

" Hmm," she hummed, thoughtful, "Must I spell it out for you, then, brightheart?" 

"If you would be so good, my lady." 

She was quiet so long he thought she might have succumbed to sleep, despite their pact.

At last she said, quiet as an Autumn breeze, " Each morning, when I open my eyes, and watch the sun rise beyond my window, I prepare myself for pain." 

He flinched, but she seemed not to notice, continuing calmly.

"This has been my burden to bear through all my years of marriage And I have borne it well, without falter, or complaint.

"I have known pain in many forms, and I have carried every one. But upon the horizon, I saw a new pain. One I had not confronted for so long. And I knew, in my soul, that I was not equal to it. That, at last, I would meet a battle I could not win. And so I found a way to avoid fighting it altogether."

"What did you foresee, hearthlight?" he forced himself to say.

"This war," she murmured, her ever-steady voice cracking in a way that made him pull her closer still. "This war came. And it claimed you. It took you from me when you had not been mine in centuries. And I could not abide that."

"I am always yours," he whispered fiercely. 

"Peace, brightheart," she soothed, "I know that. But I had to feel it. I had to erase the idea that last time was the last. I had to have you, and hold you, and love you once more before the end. Or else I knew I could not face this war. Not alone."

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and held it, eyes closed, heart pounding, fighting every urge not to speak the words batting past the lump in his throat. But he had never been as strong as her.

"I cannot let you go this time, Hestia," he groaned, " I cannot sit idly, and smile, and tease while I've willingly let you go again."

"If I can find the strength to do what must be done," she said, with iron in her words, "Then you must find the strength to let me."

"I can't," he said, voice breaking. She found his hand and squeezed it, "I am a High Lord in my own right now, Hestia." he breathed to her." I could-"

"No, you could not." she said, firm, unyielding, a rock in an icy stream, with waters all around, that had not moved in centuries, and would not now.

"There is a war coming, Helion. Win or lose in a fight for me, it would shatter this fragile alliance, and any hope for Pythian. So you will do no such thing." she went on, before he could protest, "For we must win this war. For our courts. For our people. For our freedom. And for our son."

For the first time her voice broke. Before they fell, his fingers had already lifted to wipe her tears. the only ones she would shed. Not for herself. Never for herself. But for her, for their, son... She had never confronted him with it so boldly before.

He closed his eyes, unable to deny her. Unable to even deny her.

"We have to tell him, Hestia," he said, so softly.

"We must," she agreed, "But I have not been allowed to see him in almost three hundred years. And I will not have you tell him alone. As much for his sake as for yours."

He nodded, head bowed. 

"Together, then. If I make it through what is to come."

Reaching up she took his chin between her fingers and drew his face down to meet her eyes.

"You will not die this war, Helion," she told him.

Her words flared with that fire she was forced to hide from everyone, everyone but him.

"Because if you try, I will drag the Mother by her hair to your grave and force her to dig you up for me."

He smiled at those words, at the certainty that she would do exactly as she said.

"That almost makes me want to try it, you know," he purred, tracing vague patterns into the bare skin of her shoulder with his thumb as he spoke, "Just to see you do that."

She actually growled at him which, from her, was enough to utterly dissuade him from the notion.

They lay in gentle silence together, until the velvet blackness of night bled to indigo, as the careless artist of time spilled the white she used to craft the stars into the sky itself and melted its darkness.

"I've always found it ironic," he mused, "That being High Lord of Day hasn't blessed me with the power to halt the sun, and stop the day from intruding."

"That is your duty, brightheart." she replied with a soft smile." You must assert yourself upon the land, its sleepy lovers, and restless thieves alike, and force them to make haste and more. Without you there would be no growth, no change, only stagnation and decay." 

She cupped his face in her hand, a hand now lined, to show the life she'd lived. Without him. His heart lurched at the thought.

But her voice drew him back to her as she said, "And without Day, the nights would not seem nearly so precious."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her waiting mouth, silent thanks for her words, the feeling behind them. He held her eyes a moment more. spinning out this last bit of thread, like a frugal weaver making the most of fate's allotment.

Then he said, irritably, "I'm still going to have words with Thesan later today."

She laughed as he said that, but she laughed as she withdrew from him. 

How fittingly ironic that the sweetest sound he'd ever heard paired in this moment with the bitterest sorrow he'd ever felt.

He watched her as she withdrew the new gown she'd thought to bring. At a silent glance from her he rose, still naked, and helped to seal her back into her cage of cotton and lace.

He combed and braided her hair, as he'd done a thousand times before. Then, heart aching, as it had a thousand times before, he spun a ward around her, to mask his scent where it mingled with hers. She could carry no reminders of this night save fragile memory.

Then, like the night, with one final kiss, she was gone. The chamber felt cold, even as it was bathed in his light.

Wordless, he pulled on a robe and strode onto his balcony to greet the rising of his sun.

It was a hollow warmth, compared to her, and brought him little comfort. 

As he gazed ahead into his eternity. Alone, once more. Lonely in a way only she would know. For the world saw the friends he surrounded himself with, and the lovers he brought to his bed, without ever knowing the gaping void in his soul that he could never fill with them.

Closing his eyes, he drew in one last breath of her, of them, their scents still mingling on his skin, then banished it.

He turned towards the light, facing this new day, and begged the Mother to lend him even a fragment of his heartlight's strength that he might face it.

***

#helion spell cleaver #the lady of the autumn court #helion x lady of autumn #hestia vanserra #hearthlight #(that's what im tagging them) #(bc she doesn't have a name so im going OLD SCHOOL SHIP TAG STYLE) #this made me feel things #acotar series #text post tag #long post #my fic #mine #hearthlight fic #helion fic #hestia fic #mama lucien

[vibraniumwing]

imagine.

a sirius black x reader wherein the sirius discovers the reader’s hidden fear, desire and talent.

WARNING: a bit angsty at first but fluffy at the end. 

A/N: AAAA okay so mia gave me this sudden spark of an idea so i just went with what my brain could come up with. surprise surprise, i chose sirius black for this one which mean that this is the first one i’ve written for the marauders !! pls be kind because i’m a bit new to writing for them. aaa i hope you guys would like it :< this was also meant to be a very angsty blurb but this is where we are now :D

prompt/inspired by: ariana grande’s imagine, “We go like up ‘til I’m ‘sleep on your chest/love how my face fits so good in your neck.”

---

When love was the topic, you would tend to shy away, rather be talking about exams and whatnot instead of the said emotion. It wasn’t because you hated it; you were certain that you longed to be held the same way James does with Lily, but the little monster of fear withheld you from doing so.

Your eyes wandered to the Gryffindor table where you can see the infamous group — as they would call themselves — the Marauders.

Despite all of them being devilishly handsome, your eyes were only focused on one person, Sirius Black. You’ve only spoken to him once, having him partnered up with you during charms as they were forced apart by Mcgonagall due to their rowdiness. Despite him being quite arrogant, he was definitely clever—much to your surprise— and was quite fun to be around.

“Say Y/N, are you going down to Hogsmeade today?” A friend of yours asked, gulping down her pumpkin juice as she looked at you expectantly. You turned your head around and gave her a small headshake, wanting to sit by the Black Lake and read a few books despite the rather cold weather. 

Your friend shrugged and stood up, asking what you’d want back from the small village before heading off with your small friend group. As they walked away, your eyes glanced back at the table only to see the man you’ve been staring at looking your way, sending a not-so-cheeky wink towards you causing you to blush and turn away.

The rest of the day flew by as normal, with you hastily making your way to the tree you’ve made as your little nook during your quiet times like this. It had the perfect view of the castle and wasn’t too far off from the trek yet enough to keep you hidden from the prying eyes of students that wandered around the campus.

Your eyes stared at the sunlight that glistened against the Black Lake, finding it completely calming you down as you decided to sing a little song to entertain yourself. It was a muggle song you’ve heard from a shop you’ve frequented back in the summer before returning to Hogwarts for the year.

It totally captured how you felt with love; the love you’ve always long for. The unattainable kind.

---

You were a half-blood, having your dad as a wizard and your mom a muggle-born. Your home was always filled with laughter, love and just absolute happiness until one day it wasn’t. Your mother had left for a muggle man, longing for a life without having magic in it.

Within that day, you just didn’t lose a mother, you lost your father and the sense of what love really is. He became closed off and distant, leaving you to tend for yourself as days pass by.

---

The one day you wanted to love again was also the last.

It was your fourth year when you had met him, Christopher Medlar, a Ravenclaw just like you. He taught you how to love and be open, understanding you and your hesitant sentiments completely, making you feel the love and affection you’ve longed for since the day you lost your family.

You had found yourself a new found home within him, a safe space that you’ve never really been exposed to growing up. It all felt foreign and new, yet it was extremely comforting.

Everything was going well between you two until you caught him snogging with a Slytherin and made little to no effort to even talk to you. Making your heart shatter, leaving you to your own pain and despair.

And that day was the day you promised to never love anyone again.

---

Unbeknownst to you however, was the fact that the guy you were looking at earlier at the Great Hall was closely listening to your angelic voice ring out through the quietness of the woods.

Sirius was out and about with the Marauders when he had heard a rather soft voice sing, entrancing him almost immediately. James and Remus were about to speak up when he hushed them right away, fearing the fact that they might scare the person away.

“You guys go on without me, I’ll be able to find you anyways.” He whispered, waving a rather brownish parchment along his friend's way. They both shot him a skeptical look before leaving him alone, now placing bets as to what’ll be the outcome of their friends’ change of plans.

“We go like up ‘til I’m ‘sleep on your chest, love how my face fits so good in your neck. 

Why can’t you imagine a world like that?”

Your singing was interrupted by someone clapping, whipping your head to the direction of the sound, you felt your cheeks immediately flush and heat up at the sight of the male you were looking at.

How mortified were you at the moment? Nobody could ever measure that.

“Nice voice you’ve got there, L/N. Say,what song is that?” Sirius asked so casually, leaning against the tree.  You were at a loss for words, not really sure on how you would react to his compliment since no one really knew you could sing. 

“Just a muggle song I heard a few months back, Black. How long have you been there?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he just shrugged, shoving his hands in his pocket as his signature lazy grin rested on his lips. ‘Merlin, he’s extremely good looking.’ You thought to yourself.

“That’s amazing. Mind telling me what’s it about then, darling?” He probed, now offering you a rather interested look as he settled down beside you.

Your heart jumped out of your chest at his sudden question, unsure on how to answer. You glanced at him, his eyes were locked on you, the same expression painted on his face as he nodded, somewhat signalling that he was waiting for your answer.

Taking a deep breath in, you faced him and said, “It’s about unattainable love. Somewhat like imagining that in this world, you are loved and is being loved in a picture perfect way; a place where no one can really hurt you, Sirius.” A sad smile rested on your lips as your mind wandered back to the horrid memories, the little monster inside taunting you more than ever.

His expression turned into a mixture of sadness, confusion and pity. He quickly caught on, knowing about how you got played by a boy in your house. Sirius had always watched you from afar, not really sure on how to approach you since you were somehow the opposite of him. 

He also feared that he might hurt you, the one thing he kept as a secret and treasured the most.

“Well, you don’t have to imagine that now, darling,” He spoke up, features now showing one of seriousness despite the erratic pace of his heartbeat. You looked at him with wide eyes, unsure of how to react to his words. “I don’t get what you’re saying, Black.”

A sighed, running a hand through his hair, “What I’m saying is why imagine that when I’m here.” He finished. It was rather flattering that he said that but you are unsure; the fear within you warning about how this would just lead you to repeat the same mistakes in the past. Besides, with his reputation, he had enough girls at Hogwarts swooning at the snap of his fingers.

“I appreciate the thought but I’m passing, Black.” You answered, showing him another sad smile as you stared off into the Black Lake. “I think I’m just not ready to love again nor I think I will ever love again. The one I wish for is unattainable, you know. Something far out of reach.” You finished, glancing at the male who had an unreadable expression on his face.

Silence fell upon the two of you until Sirius decided to break it, “But that’s why I’m here. I’ve seen you from afar, Y/N. Don’t think I can’t remember a time where you haven’t looked at me from the Ravenclaw table.” He humored, causing you to look at him with a horrified expression, surprised that he had caught on to your antics.

“Don’t apologize though, no one ever noticed except for me, of course. “I understand that you aren’t ready, but I’m willing to wait for you.” He continued, looking into your eyes as he spoke, “I’m willing to prove to you that you shouldn’t fear love, even if it means for me to wait on forever.” He finished, sighing softly as he grinned.

The monster inside of you thrashed around, wanting for you to not give a chance to Sirius, knowing that there’s a possibility for you to end up like the past but the side that has been longing for something like this is growing stronger as well, making you wish that you shouldn’t fear love in the first place.

A shaky breath escaped you, eyes shutting briefly to collect yourself as you looked at the male, who was waiting patiently. “Just promise me one thing, Sirius.” You told him, looking at him straight into the eyes as you spoke, “The fear inside of me is begging not to give in, but something about you is making me say yes. Promise me that you’ll never break my heart.”

His grin soon turned into a wide smile, nodding at the promise you wanted. “Until my very last breath, love.” as he opened his arms for you, which you looked at with a confused face, unsure on how to react.

“I’m giving you a hug, silly. Now c’mere!” He told you, pulling you into him. He smelled like sweets, a subtle hint of smoke reaching your nose as you easily melted against his touch. It was all foreign to you again yet this time, something was assuring you this would last.

With a few readjustments, you were now in between his legs, back against his chest as his arms were wrapped around you tightly, making you feel extra safe. Your head turned around and you snuggled up against the crook of his neck, eyes fluttering shut as the ambience of your surroundings eased you. He spoke up once more, the vibration from his voice causing you to cozy up against him.

“Soon, you won’t even have to imagine anything. I promise to give you everything you’ve ever wished for.”

---

TAGS: @andromedaa-tonks​ @whoreforfredweasley​

#i hope you like this #rlly nervous for this one aaa #vea writes #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black angst #harry potter #marauders