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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 2 years

Text

Misunderstanding

Word count: 6800

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, angst, mild swearing

Alright, another two-prompter fic here! This combines this prompt from an anon asking for reader and Loki to get in a fight when she leaves without telling him, as well as this prompt where Loki and reader watch a Christmas movie together. I don't do a ton of angst in my fics (since my blog name has 'fluff' in it 😂) but it's nice to slip some in every once in a while for a change of pace. I always promise a fluffy ending 😊

You awoke to your phone buzzing on your nightstand. Drowsily, you opened your eyes and blinked away the blurred remnants of sleep, rolling over and fumbling for your phone. The sun had barely risen, a beam of orange light streaming through the crack in your window shade. Who the hell could be calling at this hour?

The screen showed your friend's name, which was even more surprising. You'd thought she had gone away with a few of your friends already to the Bahamas for a short vacation in the tropics. Maybe she was leaving tomorrow? What would make her call you now?

You tapped the phone screen blindly a few times, finally finding the 'answer call' button.

"... Hello?" you slurred.

"Hey! I'm so sorry, did I wake you up?"

You glanced at your clock on your nightstand, letting out a breathy laugh. "Well, most people aren't awake at five-thirty in the morning when they have the weekend off work. But you've got me up now, what is it?"

"Ok, so I know this is a longshot, and you hate going anywhere without planning three months or more in advance, but... Derek is sick, and he won't be able to make the trip this weekend. Would you be interested in going in his place?"

"Uh..." You were slowly waking up now, heart beating faster at the mere suggestion. You prided yourself on being a planner. Everything had to be in order before you went anywhere, ever. Your friends liked to tease you about it, urging you to try to be a little more spontaneous here and there. But the idea of taking a trip on the drop of a dime made your anxiety flare.

You hated that you felt this way. You'd give anything to be able to be more spontaneous and go places on a moment's notice with your friends. But wishing and doing were two very different things.

Still, you did have the weekend off. If you were ever going to try to do something spur-of-the-moment, this was the perfect time to do so. And your friends had been planning this trip for months - they most certainly would take care of you, wouldn't they?

"Hello? Are you still there?"

"What? Oh, yeah, sorry. Still half asleep," you groaned.

"Well, I kind of need an answer... I'm going to have to call some other people if you can't make it, and I'd much rather it be you."

"Well... you know what? Sure. I'll do it."

Your friend screeched into the phone, and you held it a few inches away from your ear, wincing.

"Ohmygod THANK YOU!! I'm so psyched you're coming!! You should probably go pack your bags - don't forget to bring a couple swimsuits, and a sweatshirt in case it gets chilly at night."

"I was sort of hoping to sleep a little longer... what time does the flight leave tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" There was a beat of silence. "The flight leaves in four hours."

"What??" You nearly dropped your phone on the floor. "I... I didn't realize..."

"Are you still up for it? I totally understand if not, but I really need you to decide ASAP so I can make some calls."

"... Are you going to pick me up on the way to the airport?"

"Say the word and I'll do it."

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Alright. I'll go pack."

"YES!! OK, I'll see you in an hour. BYE!" The end call beep sounded in your ear, leaving you lying there in disbelief that you'd just agreed to this.

In a flurry, you rushed around your room throwing things haphazardly into a suitcase. It was December, and so you had to dig deep in your drawers and closet for your summer clothes. You still took the extra time to count the pairs of underwear you included in your suitcase, making sure you had a couple extra pairs with you as you always did. You rushed into the bathroom, throwing your toothbrush and other toiletries into a bag. A quick glance in the mirror made you cringe - pulling out your brush from the bag you'd just packed it in, you dragged it roughly through your hair to smooth it down at least a little to make yourself semi-presentable to be out in public. Deciding it was good enough, you tossed the brush back in the bag and threw it in your suitcase, just as there was a knock on your apartment door.

The next thing you knew, you were in your friend's car with two other friends of yours on your way to the airport. The sun at least had risen fully in the sky by now, although you sort of wished it hadn't so you could get some sleep, even if it would only be for twenty minutes. You threw the hood of your sweatshirt up over your eyes and leaned your head against the car door, shutting your eyes in an attempt to sleep.

Suddenly, your eyes flew open when you realized you had literally told no one where you were going. You sat bolt upright, pulling out your phone to make some calls, but you were interrupted when the car pulled into the parking garage and your friends jumped out of the car.

"Hurry! We're running later than I thought," your friend urged. Forgetting about calling your other friends and family, you rushed out of the car and grabbed your suitcase, hurrying into the airport to get checked in.

The entire trip through the airport was a stressful one. You and your friends rushed from the bag check counter to the security check lines, making it through in no time before making a beeline for your flight gate. You honestly weren't sure where you'd lost so much time, but you didn't have time to dwell on it, as the flight was already boarding when you reached the gate. The four of you slipped into the back of the line, breathing a sigh of relief as you boarded the plane after everyone else.

It wasn't until the plane took off that you remembered you'd never called anyone to tell them you were leaving. If you'd had the chance, you would have called your best friend, who didn't quite fit into your other circles of friends. You and Loki had struck up an unlikely friendship when you started working for Tony Stark in his lab as a lab assistant. You suspected he only talked to you initially because he was tired of talking to the Avengers all day, every day. To him, you must have been a breath of fresh air, being someone who he hadn't tried to kill or otherwise mess with in the past. Over time, you both discovered you had a lot in common, like your dry, sarcastic sense of humor and your distaste for excessively upbeat personalities. He'd quickly become the person you sought out when you wanted to talk to someone, and he often came to you with woes of his and his brother's arguments.

You felt terribly that you didn't have the chance to tell him you left, but he'd flaked out on you in the past when you made plans, and this couldn't be that different. You knew he'd be there when you came back, and you'd explain it all to him then. In the meantime, you were bound and determined to enjoy yourself on this impromptu vacation.

It was a wonderful, sunny three days in the tropics. You spent hours lounging on the beach, learning how to paddleboard, going off on boat rides, and simply enjoying the sunshine. A part of you was incredibly proud for making the decision to step out of your comfort zone. It hadn't been easy, and it certainly had been a whirlwind of a ride getting here, but it was absolutely worth it in the end.

The four of you took a late flight home on the last day. Your face was slightly sunburnt, and you were exhausted from traveling, but you were content. It was a much smoother process getting home to the airport now that you weren't scrambling to catch a flight. In no time at all, you were falling asleep in the back of your friend's car as she drove you home to your apartment.

By the time you arrived home late that evening, any thoughts of doing anything other than collapsing in your bed had vanished. Leaving your bag completely packed, you crawled under the covers and fell asleep almost immediately. Tomorrow, you’d go visit Loki, you told yourself. He’d probably missed you these last few days, especially since you left so abruptly. But you tried not to overthink it – the whole point of agreeing to this impromptu trip was to escape those anxious thoughts for a while, to prove to yourself you could be spontaneous and carefree if only just once in your life.

The following morning, you awoke to the sunlight blaring through your bedroom window. It was a bit later than you’d hoped to wake up, but you felt refreshed after a good night’s sleep, so you knew it was worth it. You took the time to unpack your suitcase, knowing you’d regret it if you waited and put it off for later. The hot water in the shower felt fantastic against your skin, already feeling the chill from the winter cold after being in the tropical heat the last few days. Maybe you took a few extra minutes to enjoy the steamy bathroom air while you finished getting dressed and ready. Finally, you were on your way over to the Avengers tower to visit your best friend.

When you entered the tower, you greeted the secretary at the front desk and headed past her to the elevator. They knew you well enough by now to know you didn’t need assistance finding your way around. You headed straight up to the lounge, knowing you’d find at least a few of the Avengers hanging out there at this time of the afternoon.

Sure enough, you found Thor, Peter, and Tony hanging out in front of the large TV playing one of Peter’s video games. You didn’t want to interrupt mid-game, especially given how heated the three of them were as they battled one another. Patiently, you stood behind the sofa and observed while they finished the round.

“Ah-ha! You have fallen to the mighty God of Thunder once again!” Thor suddenly whooped, leaping to his feet as Peter and Tony groaned.

“Ugh, that’s the fourth time in a row! Seriously, you’ve got to have this rigged,” Peter griped.

“Aww, you guys are just sore losers,” you interjected. The three of them whipped their heads around in surprise toward the sound of your voice, erupting in a chorus of ‘hellos’ and ‘where have you been’s.’

“Have you seen Loki yet?” Thor asked, a strangely concerned look on his face.

“No, I came over to visit him! Where is he?”

“Oh, er, before you go looking for him, you should know…”

“So, you’ve returned.”

You spun around, hearing the smooth, baritone voice of your closest friend from the doorway. Your face lit up when you saw Loki, grinning as you rushed toward him to wrap him in an embrace.

“Loki! I missed you!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him. He didn’t return your hug, however – his muscles stiffened under your arms, chest rising sharply as he sucked in a breath, bristling under your touch. Releasing him, you stepped back to get a better look at his face. His eyes were dark, the corners of his mouth downturned in a frown, brows heavy in a clear fit of anger. “Loki? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” he barked, laughing humorlessly.

“Alright, alright, shows over kids – let’s get out of here before they blow up the place,” Tony quipped, motioning for Thor and Peter to follow. On his way out, Thor offered you an apologetic look before disappearing through the door, leaving you alone with the seething younger Asgardian.

“Loki, I –”

“Do you realize how I felt when you suddenly vanished without any indication of where you were going?” Loki cut you off, his blue-green eyes boring into yours sharply. “Where in the Nine Realms have you been??”

“My friend called me last minute to go on a trip with them, I didn’t have time to –”

“Oh, so you were off galivanting then? Is that right?” He tutted, an unpleasant smile plastered to his face. “How very wonderful for you.”

“Hey! You don’t own me, Loki! I can do what I want!” you snapped, a fire beginning to blaze in your belly. “If I want to go on a spontaneous trip, I’m allowed to do that. I don’t need your permission!”

“Honestly – you think I wanted you to ask for permission?!” Loki’s voice was increasing in volume now, eyes wild with anger. “A simple phone call would have sufficed! I had no idea where you were all this time! Do you not understand how that made me feel??”

“I didn’t have time! I told you, it was last minute! And anyhow, I don’t need to keep you updated on my whereabouts at all hours of the day, Loki!” you seethed, balling your hands into fists at your sides. “You sound like a controlling boyfriend! It’s not a good look on you.”

He shook his head, giving you a hard glare. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“No. Enlighten me, Loki.” You spat his name as though it were vile, a bitter taste in your mouth.

Loki grabbed hold of your shoulders, squeezing firmly. “You’re friends with the Avengers. The earth’s ‘mightiest heroes,’ enemies to villains all over the Nine Realms. Don’t you think that when you suddenly disappeared out of character that my mind might jump to the worst possible conclusion?? What if you’d been captured, kidnapped, stolen as leverage against us??” You winced as his fingers dug a little too hard into your shoulders, and he noticed immediately, removing his hands from you. “Were you thinking about ANYONE other than yourself??”

Deep down, a part of you realized he was right. You hadn’t considered what your friends might think, that they’d worry about you. But gods, if he wasn’t making you so angry right now, treating you the way he was. You were proud of yourself for taking this spontaneous trip. Yes, it was out of character, but that was the whole point of making this decision.

“You know what? I don’t have to stand here and let you talk to me like this.” You turned on your heel and began storming toward the door, away from the infuriating god. You heard his heavy footsteps following after you.

“So you’re just going to run away from this?? Don’t be a coward,” he roared, his fingers clasping around your elbow. You yanked your arm from his grasp, whirling around with eyes blazing.

“Don’t TOUCH me!” you fumed, pleased to see he actually took a step backward in surprise. “I’m leaving. Don’t follow me. If you must know, I’m going home. Add it to your tracking list of my whereabouts, why don’t you?” With that, you spun around and entered the elevator, slamming the close doors button the moment you stepped inside. As the doors shut, you looked back and saw a dark, pained expression cross Loki’s face. The part of you that was still his friend ached for him, but the furious part of you decided he deserved it.

The moment you arrived home, you went straight to your bedroom and collapsed on your bed, sobbing white hot tears of rage. How could he do this to you? He knew what a huge step this was, how anxious you got about not having every aspect of your life planned out to the finest detail. Loki was supposed to be your best friend, and he was doing a damned shitty job of it.

How could he shout at you like that? How could he not see how it hurt you? He had no right to scold you like a child the way he did. How dare he act as if he was in control of all your life decisions?

Your anger began to fade as the tears streamed down your face. It disintegrated into more of a dark, helpless sadness. You’d never had a fight quite like that with Loki. Sure, you squabbled and bantered as all friends do, but never once had he hollered at you with the intent to make you hurt. You supposed you had done the same thing to him. What was going to happen to your friendship now? Could he ever forgive you? Could you forgive him?

The idea of losing your friendship with Loki stung more than any of his words. The pair of you hadn’t been friends for more than a year, and yet he was such a constant in your life. You weren’t exactly a social butterfly – you had a few close friends, and that was about the extent of your support system. Loki, by far, was the first person you thought of when you needed to vent about something, or when something exciting happened and you were bursting at the seams to share it with someone. He had this brutal, sarcastic honesty about him that kept you grounded, and yet there was a secret, kind side to him he typically kept hidden. But not from you. He went out of his way to pay you a visit, or invite you to stroll the city with him, exactly at the time you most needed a friend. Either he cared deeply about you, or he simply didn’t want to lose the person who had become his sounding board to rant about his brother and his friends. You liked to think it was the former.

You couldn’t go back there today to talk to him. The fear of what he might say held you hostage here in your apartment, scared he might continue to berate you and chastise you. Instead, you spent most of the afternoon curled up on your bed, scrolling through your phone or otherwise trying to take a nap to forget about all this for just a little while.

By the time you’d managed to convince yourself to leave the sanctuary of your room, the sun had already set. The rest of your apartment was pitch black outside of your room. You didn’t necessarily mind it. It suited your mood fairly well, in fact – the heavy, occlusive blackness felt like a reflection of the intense aching in your chest and throat. Still, you couldn’t see very well in the dark, so you flipped on the light in your living room in the name of self-preservation. While you were at it, you plugged in the lights on the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. Maybe a little festive light would brighten your spirits.

You didn’t feel much like cooking, so you grabbed a frozen meal out of the freezer and popped it in the microwave. These things always stayed a little cold in the middle, but you didn’t care. You were only eating because you knew you needed to anyway.

As you cleaned up your disappointing meal, you were startled by a knock on your door. Grumbling about how late in the evening it was to entertain visitors, especially if it was a salesperson, you shuffled over to the door and cracked it open to peek outside.

“Loki.” You pulled the door open the rest of the way to reveal your dark-haired trickster friend standing in the hallway. He seemed smaller than his usual, regal self – more slouchy, even sheepish-looking perhaps. It was hard to determine if you felt relieved or overwhelmed, or maybe even a renewed bout of anger. Rather than try to work through your own emotions while you stood there at the door, you raised your eyebrows and tilted your head to urge him to speak.

“Might I come in?” he asked. His voice had lost the bite it had earlier when he’d reprimanded you. That, at least, was comforting.

“Why should I?” you shot back flatly, folding your arms across your chest. He responded by pulling his arm out from behind his back, a movie (that he’d clearly borrowed from Tony) held in his hand.

“I thought perhaps we could watch a Christmas movie. I know you enjoy them.”

You narrowed your eyes, reading the box. “That’s A Muppet Family Christmas. You hate that movie.”

“Yes, but I know it’s your favorite.” Loki looked so hopeful as he gazed at you. And the sentiment behind what he was offering meant more than one would think – he never allowed you to pick the movie when you gathered for a movie night unless he approved it first. You couldn’t hide the tiny smile pulling at the corner of your mouth, your arms loosening a bit.

“Fine. I’ll make hot chocolate.” You waved him inside, turning your back to him to busy yourself in the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you pulled out the bottle of milk (because everyone knew hot chocolate made with milk was so much better than water) and grabbed the hot chocolate mix from the cupboard. Loki took a seat on the stool at the kitchen island, watching in silence as you prepared two mugs and popped them in the microwave. While the mugs heated, you turned around to face your companion, leaning back against the countertop as you tried to come up with something to say.

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t have to, apparently.

“What?” you asked, startled by his abrupt apology.

“I shouldn’t have shouted at you. I was angry, hurt, confused… I took all of that out on you in the moment. So, I apologize.”

You sighed, approaching the opposite side of the kitchen island, and leaning your elbows on it. “I’m sorry too. I hadn’t realized what my leaving for a few days without saying anything would do to you. I wanted to call, but it was so short notice, and there was no cell phone service when we landed, and –”

“Please. It’s alright. I forgive you.” He reached across the counter to grasp your hand in his. “I was terrified something might have happened to you. You never go traveling on a whim.”

“I know, that’s the point.” The microwave beeped, and Loki released your hand so you could attend to the hot chocolate. After a quick stir, you put them back in for a bit longer, returning to the island. “I never do anything spontaneous. And the opportunity came up, and I just… I wanted so badly to just be that spontaneous, carefree person everyone else seems to be. To ignore the worries of going on a trip completely unplanned.”

“I understand.” Loki offered you a weak smile. “And I am proud of you for it. I know how hard it must have been.”

“Thanks.” You returned his small smile, leaning on the countertop once again.

“I want you to know – I don’t need to know where you are at every moment of every day. But, please, if you do go away for a few days on short notice, please tell me? I couldn’t bear the thought that I may have lost you, that it could have been my fault something happened to you…”

“Shh, Loki, it’s alright. I promise, ok?” It was your turn to take his hand in yours. “I wasn’t even thinking about that sort of thing. It was naïve of me. I’m sorry.”

The microwave beeped once again, and you retrieved the two steaming ceramic mugs from inside, handing one carefully to your companion. You’d been the one to introduce him to hot chocolate. Admittedly, he’d been skeptical that drinking chocolate would be a pleasant treat, but when you’d finally convinced him to try a sip, he’d been hooked ever since. You held your mug up, tapping the side against his mug.

“To a cozy night in with my best friend?”

Loki shook his head with a grin. “You know, you’ve truly made me go soft, mortal. I shouldn’t allow you to get in my head like this.”

“Oh, you love cozy nights in like this and you know it.” Stepping around the kitchen island, you motioned for him to follow you to the living room. “So, are you still going to watch the movie with me? Or was that just a ploy to help you apologize?”

“I beg your pardon – I am a man of my word. I came to watch this movie with you, however ridiculous it may be, and I intend to do just that.”

You snorted. “A man of your word? You’re literally the God of Lies.”

“Yes, but I am not the God of Broken Promises.” Taking his mug with him, he followed you to the living room. He moved toward the television to pop in the movie, but you stopped him.

“Wait! Hang on – I’m gonna get some blankets, it’s cold,” you insisted.

“You realize that you have control of your heat, I hope,” he teased.

“Yes, and I also have to pay for my heat. Besides – it’s more fun to keep the house a little chilly and snuggle up under a blanket than to just keep it at a normal temperature.” You heard Loki chuckling and calling you ridiculous as you disappeared into your bedroom, pulling out your oversized fleece blanket and dragging it out to the living room. Loki had already sat himself down on one end of the sofa, the movie set on pause while he waited for you to return. Taking a seat on the opposite end of the sofa, you threw the blanket over the both of you, turning yourself sideways to rest your feet on the couch cushions with a slight bend in your knees so as not to accost Loki with your cold feet.

“I’ll have you know – I will not watch this movie willingly again. Consider yourself fortunate,” Loki drawled.

“Oh, yay me,” you responded sarcastically. “Alright, enough whining. Unpause the movie.”

Muttering under his breath about ‘ungrateful mortals,’ he did as you asked, starting the film as you settled deeper into the couch cushions. He cringed the moment the opening song began on the screen, and you bit the inside of your cheek in an effort not to laugh. Loki could be so dramatic sometimes. Although, you supposed you wouldn’t be such close friends if he weren’t a little extra every so often.

Sitting here, tucked under a blanket by the glow of the Christmas tree and a nostalgic Christmas movie playing on your television, drinking hot chocolate, you wondered if it could get any better. Most importantly, you were no longer fighting with Loki. Your heart was tearing to pieces when you were angry with one another. This sort of quiet evening together with your best friend was exactly what you needed to get past the hurt and emotional turmoil of the day.

A little ways into the movie, you felt the urge to adjust yourself to get more comfortable. In the process of shifting, you accidentally tapped Loki’s leg with your foot. His head swiveled to look at you in shock.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to kick you.”

“Your feet are freezing,” he stated.

“Uh… yeah. They’re kind of always cold in the winter.”

He glared at you contemptuously. “Perhaps they wouldn’t be if you kept your heat at a temperature suitable for mortals.”

“Hey! If you want to pay my heating bill, then be my guest. Until then, I’m keeping it at the temperature I want.” For good measure, you stretched your legs out further to rest your feet against his leg.

“Aren't you wearing socks, and lying under a blanket? Gods, how are your feet still this cold?” He grabbed hold of your feet, scooting over a bit to rest them in his lap as you whined and protested.

“Wha- HEY! Loki! My feet are gross, don’t put them in your lap.”

“Your feet are just fine. Excluding the fact that they’re like ice.” He wrapped both hands around one of your feet, rubbing his palms firmly up and down both sides to create heat through friction. Your protests died at your lips, letting out a little involuntary sigh of content. Loki glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a smirk forming on his lips. “Not complaining now, are you?”

“Mm… just keep doing that,” you breathed, sinking into the sofa. With a throaty, rumbling laugh, he switched to warm your other foot, looking positively charmed at your blissful expression. You returned your attention to the movie, eyelids beginning to feel heavy when he began kneading his fingers into your soles once he was satisfied with the temperature of your feet.

At some point, Loki began to become distracted by the movie, his touch losing some of its weight. It didn’t bother you much at first, but when he started sliding his thumb gently up and down the arch of your foot, you had to bite your tongue to keep from giggling. No way were you letting your mischievous friend find out you were ticklish. He’d never let you live it down.

You were in a predicament now. If you acted too quickly and jerked your feet away, he’d definitely figure it out. But if you didn’t move soon, you were positive you were going to break out into hysterical giggles. Maybe you could come up with some excuse that you had to get up. Did he want more hot chocolate? Could you feign needing to go to the bathroom?

Your thoughts were interrupted when his thumb flitted over the ball of your foot, and you couldn’t prevent a small twitch of your leg. Please don’t notice, please don’t notice, please don’t…

“Alright there, darling?”

… notice.

“Hmm? I’m fine, why do you ask?”

He eyed you suspiciously, as though trying to evaluate your expression. “No reason.” Loki turned back to the television, and you did the same, sighing happily as he pressed his fingertips more firmly into your other foot.

Gradually, the pressure in his fingers lightened again until he was simply ghosting his fingertips across the arch of your foot. You shifted to try to hide the desperate urge to twitch and jolt away from his touch, trying to play it off as getting more comfortable while trying to pull your feet back closer to your body. Loki had other ideas – grabbing hold of one of your ankles to prevent you from retracting it.

“Going somewhere?”

Shit. You knew that tone.

“L-Loki…” you warned, tugging at your ankle. He tightened his grasp, impishly fluttering his fingers along your sole. “HEHEY!”

“You seem to be hiding something. I thought we agreed, no more secrets.” His tone was firm, as though scolding you, but his eyes were alight with mischief. He knew what he was doing. He just wanted to make you admit it.

“N-no, we agree-HEED no m-more long trips with-OHOUT telling you first,” you corrected, gritting your teeth to try to suppress the giggles that kept spilling out as his fingertips grazed agonizingly slowly over the arch of your trapped foot.

“Are you admitting you’re hiding something, then?”

“That’s not what I-HI-ha… ahem… nohot what I said,” you coughed, trying to cover up the laugh that burst from your chest when his tickling fingers found the spot where your arch became the upper part of your foot. A wicked grin evolved on his face, and he began to scratch at the spot in a targeted attack. You sucked in a breath, turning your head toward the television so you wouldn’t have to look at his maddeningly smug face.

“There’s no reason to continue to deny it, darling. I’ve obviously already discovered you’re ticklish.”

You whipped your head around back toward your trickster friend to protest, but he suddenly shifted to grab hold of your foot with both hands, scratching eight fingers into your sole. This broke you, a bubbling stream of giggles bursting through your mouth. The way his smug smirk broadened set butterflies in your stomach.

“O-ho-kahay! I admit ihit! Are you h-HAH-happy?”

“Oh, quite happy, actually. I’ve just discovered a way for you to make it up to me after running off and making me worry.”

“Wahait! That’s not fa-HAIR – LOKI!” You kicked at him with your free foot, successfully freeing your other one but at the cost of your mischievous friend capturing the previously neglected foot.

“Ah. Asking for me to tickle this one?” he hummed.

“Noho, that wasn’t – NOHO!!” Somehow, this foot was worse than the other; he had the same grip on you as before, but every sweep of his fingers across your sole made your leg jolt as you squeaked in protest. He seemed to recognize this, beginning to laugh along with you.

“You mortals are peculiar creatures. I didn’t realize it was possible to be weaker on one side.”

“SHUT UHUP YOHOU!” you demanded. Loki tutted, shifting to hold your ankle in one hand while worming his way into the space beneath your toes through the fabric of your sock. “AHAH – OH HELL NOHO!!” You sat up, reaching for his hands to prevent him from getting at the hypersensitive spot while you curled your toes as much as possible.

“Hmm.” He grunted as you successfully forced him to move his tickling fingers, then suddenly reached over to claw into your belly. With a startled bark of a laugh, you flopped backward against the sofa to evade him, providing him the opportunity to loop his elbow around your ankle and pull your toes back with one hand while working his way into the previously protected space with the other.

“LOHOKIHIHI YOHOU A-HASS!!” Your abdominal muscles were too weak to sit up and fight him off, so you opted to continue yanking on your foot while he continued to prey on your resolve. At last, he relented, releasing your foot with a chuckle. You scrambled to retract your legs close to your body, hugging your knees to your chest as you stuck your tongue out flippantly at your companion.

“I’m quite surprised it took this long for me to learn of this,” Loki remarked. “You seem to be more ticklish than the average mortal.”

“Am not,” you muttered grumpily. Although, it was difficult to even pretend you were truly annoyed. This little bout of playfulness was a nice distraction from all the fighting you’d done earlier. And you did trust Loki. You knew he would never take things too far if you genuinely got upset with him for it.

“I’m not sure you can debate that point, dear. I’ve known countless mortals in my many years of existence, and arguably, you are indeed more ticklish than any of them.”

“Ah, so you make it a habit to go around tickling people? You know, some might find that to be kind of creepy,” you jested, smirking. He narrowed his eyes mischievously.

“Certainly not strangers, dear. I’ve had my fair share of Midgardian relationships, both friends and lovers.”

“Ew.” You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of that thought. “Now that’s an image I don’t need in my head.”

Loki sat up straighter, giving you a warning look. “What image, pray tell?”

“You with your many Midgardian lovers. How many of those have you had? Wait… actually, don’t tell me.”

“I’ll have you know that I have very high standards,” he retorted. “Most Midgardians don’t live up to them. So, to ease your mind, only a few.”

“Hmm. I’m surprised the Midgardians you took interest in were interested in you in return,” you teased. “Did they know what they were getting themselves into? Dating the God of Mischief?”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Well, you and your mischievous ways… you can get on people’s nerves, you know.” You shot him a teasing wink to let him know you were joking. It didn’t seem to make a difference – you’d already sealed your fate.

“Oh, really?” Loki suddenly lunged across the sofa, wrapping his arms around your waist and dragging you back against his chest. “Let’s see how annoying I can be then, hmm?”

“L-Loki, wait a minute – NOHO!!” His fingertips dug into your ribs, and you exploded with desperate laughter. A laugh rumbled in his chest against your back, clearly amused by how easily he’d driven you to hysterics.

“Is this annoying enough for you, darling?” He discovered a spot closer to your back where you began to squirm harder to fight for your escape, only resulting in his scratching deeper and faster into the spot. The damned god was ruthlessly precise in his attack, too perceptive for his own good. You curled your knees up to your chest, as though that might stop him, but he was just unrelenting as he exploited that wretched spot.

“L-LO-HO-KI ANYWHERE EHELSE GOHOHOD!!” you begged frantically.

“Hmm, but I quite like this spot, actually.” He lightened his touch, grazing his fingertips rapidly but gently along the backs of your ribs. Your legs kicked out helplessly, heels beating into the sofa cushion to distract yourself from the horrifically ticklish sensation. Just as you thought you might be able to block some of it out after growing used to it, his hands darted up under your arms, eight fingers clawing into the softest part of your armpits.

“AAGH!! LOHOKI YOU’RE A PEST!!” you hollered through your laughter.

“Oh, I don’t think so. This is being a pest.” His thumbs dug into your collarbones, a spot where you didn’t even know you were ticklish, but gods was it bad. Laughing evilly in your ear, he continued his assault under your arms while kneading circles into the muscles right below your collarbones. You threw your head back against his shoulder, dissolving into near-silent, breathy laughter. Recognizing you’d had enough, he finally showed you some mercy, releasing his hold on you.

You leaned heavily into his chest for a moment, hiccupping as you caught your breath. When you finally started regaining some strength in your core muscles, you sat up and smoothed your hair down, turning to glare playfully at the mischievous god.

“I missed half the movie,” you grumbled. “Now we have to rewind it.”

Loki sighed defeatedly. “I suppose I owe you that much.” He handed you the TV remote so you could back the film up to the last part you recalled paying attention to. You scooted back over to your side of the sofa, rotating to place your feet on the cushions, but not anywhere near your trickster friend. He chuckled warmly at you. “I promise you, I’m done tormenting you tonight.”

“You say that as though you’re going to do it again another day.”

“Oh, darling, that goes without saying,” he confirmed, smirking as your face warmed. “But I’ve already sat through nearly the entire movie once and had to restart midway through. Believe me, I’m not making that mistake again.”

You let out a huff of a breath through your nose, turning to watch the television. Suddenly, you yelped as you felt a cool hand wrap around your ankle, pulling it back toward Loki’s side.

“HEY! You promised!” you disputed, tugging on your leg. He held fast, resting your foot in his lap.

“Relax, darling. I did promise.” He got to work kneading his fingers firmly into your sole, and you melted reluctantly under his kind touch.

“Well… alright. I’ll allow it. But the moment you tickle me again, I’m going to sit on the chair over there,” you warned, a smile forcing its way onto your face.

“Understood. Now, watch your movie. I won’t rewind it again.”

He kept his promise, working out the tension in your feet until you’d nearly fallen asleep on the sofa. You missed the last twenty minutes of the film in your half-asleep stupor, but you didn’t mind. You’d seen the movie a hundred times before.

A distant part of your mind remembered Loki scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to your room, setting you carefully down in your bed and pulling the covers up to your shoulders. You stirred long enough to turn on your side and look at him, a sleepy smirk crossing your face.

“You gonna give me a kiss goodnight?” you slurred teasingly. A deep laugh rolled in his chest.

“What would I do without a cheeky friend like you?”

“Mm… your life would be a hell of a lot more boring.”

“That it would.” He flicked off the light at your bedside, bidding you goodnight as he left your apartment to head home. Sleep came easily for you that night, knowing that Loki would protect you with his life. You’d never take that for granted again.

#ticklish!reader #tickle fluff #loki tickle #tickle fic #marvel tickle #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x reader #loki x you #best friend Loki

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mara-xx217 · 2 years

Note

I feel like i ask for dwight a lot….. but what about fic about pizza dwight coming off the hcs? the idea of you opening the door scantily clad with the intent of seducing him, because this isn’t the first time you’ve met him and he’s so embarrassed. hes literally living the dream when you pull him into your apartment🥴🥴🥴 thank u sm💕❤️your fics literally give me life

This might be a bit crack-y... But you know what? Let's spoil our little Dwight, shall we?~ >:)

Warnings:

It wasn't exactly dread that Dwight felt as he made his way to your house, but damn... if it wasn't something akin to it. Maybe anxiety or nervousness would be more on point. Or perhaps 'piss his pants fear' is more accurate. He was Dwight Fairfield- Dwight-fucking-Fairfield!- and yet, for some reason, you- you!- always flirted with him every time you saw him. Every. Damn. Time! He was beyond intimidated, if not completely confused and very, very flattered, but damn! Him? Really?! He wanted to ask if you were alright, if you had him confused with someone else but NOPE! You were always like... that, so maybe- just maybe- it really is real this time...

God, he hates this dumb ass pizza boy get up he has to wear... Unattractive and just... lame. Dwight remembers the time you called him 'handsome' while he was wearing it, and nearly trips as he gets out of his car. He's such a damn fool, yet for some reason you always ask for him, specifically, when ordering... And you always tip really, really well, too! And wear really really sexy clothing to the door, as well...

Dwight stood outside of your apartment, sweating. Maybe he should just- ring the doorbell and leave the pizza at the front door... No, he needs the money. ...shit. Damn it! You know... it's probably gonna be fine! N-Nothing's gonna happen and- uh, it's just gonna be them flirting and- and- uh...? The door is opening shit UHH-! Oh.

You were wearing a loose fitting bathrobe. VERY loose fitting... You sort of leaned against the door frame, a coy smile on your face as you fluttered your eyelashes at him. Uhh...? He really couldn't believe that this display was directed at him, specifically but... It's only him here, soo... URK?! Dwight released an unflattering yelp as you yanked him into your apartment. No: Hey there! or Thanks for the pizza! or I'm going to seduce YOU, of all people today! N-Not that HE would ever complain or anything! H-He just- uh, he just- Oh my GOD this is actually happening?!

Dwight wasn't sure if he heard you say "Can I pay some other way...?" or if he genuinely was so desperate that he was conjuring this up out of nothing. Well... he probably is... S-So he should just- EEK! Oh God he's in your apartment- YOUR APARTMENT! Nope, this is happening, like actually happening to him of all people! He really, really feels like he's about to pass out, but somehow he manages to keep it together and not make a total fool of himself! ...he thinks, at least.

You never said anything to the contrary. No jabs at his insecurities, his nervousness, nothing. Just like all his interactions with you, you were very kind and understanding, patient with him, even! Your couch was a bit uncomfortable, but Dwight seriously couldn't care less. This was seriously happening! You were unbuckling his pants and- Oh my GOD-!!

He didn't know what to do with his hands. Or his legs. Or his entire body, really. Dwight was thankful that you were going kinda slow but- Oh shit that feels really good... Is he going to make a complete fool of himself...? Probably, yes. But-

"Don't hold back on my behalf... I want to make you feel good..."

Oh. Well shit. Dwight curls his fingers into your robe. O-Okay wow... This is seriously happening. He doesn't know why you are this interested in him, but holy shit he thinks he's actually in love. Even after he cummed which was pretty quickly, unfortunately, you didn't skip a beat. Once he, uh, recovered, you crawled on top of him.

You've wanted him for so long... It's no wonder that you nearly broke your shitty little couch from both the force that you rode him. Did you almost break his hips...? He never complained, soo... You weren't completely selfish though! You wanted to make him feel good, too. He was so sweet... Polite and charming... cute as a button and it clearly wasn't an act. He was acting as such, even now, in the heat of the moment. Worrying about you... It really was sweet, even if you were fucking the lights out of him, currently...

Yep. He's definitely getting fired for this... But- ehh... He's alright with this. That job sucked ass, and this is suuuch a good "I quit!" story! You genuinely felt bad about the possibility of Dwight losing his job. You- You want him to say here, with you?! O-Oh my- A-Are you two... d-dating now?! Is he really sure that he's not dreaming?! When he woke up in the morning, still in your apartment- Shit. Nope not a dream not a dream oh my gOD HOLY SHIT-!! This really is a dream come true!

@prettycutebunny

@tachankas-whore

@kennbb

@cherrysodalite

@dead-bxtch-walking

@space-arsonist

@pink-soft-shadow

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd dwight #dbd dwight x reader #pizza boy dwight #ask response #hehe...

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omniscientwreck · 3 years

Note

Hi🖤 Omni! If you're looking for a fic request I've got one.

Okay so Essek is Feeblminded by remaining Volstrucker at his tower. Verin came to visit later that day and has been taling care of Essek, as they both would be scared of the Umavi's wrath should someone find out.

Well Caleb comes to visit a few day's later and Certainly gets a surprise.

Fluff ensues.

I'm talking the Unicorn from Despicable Me level Fluffy😁😁😁

Hi Umbra! Sorry I'm incredibly late answering this, life is weird but I hope the length makes up for it! I know I said drabble but like this just turned into a whole fic so I hope you enjoy!

Verin had worried when Essek’s door hadn’t opened of its own accord, usually he knows when he’s arrived. Deciding something was certainly wrong he barges his way into his brother’s tower. He finds it silent which is normal but unnerving and the unnatural stillness as he calls for Essek has his hackles up.

His knuckles pale as he grips the hilt of his sword and searches methodically throughout the tower. Finding the main floor empty he heads up the stairs to the library. There’s a shuffle, a falling book, a whimper. He draws his sword, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The door is ajar and he can hear shuffling. He thrusts it open is momentarily relieved to see his brother. His hair is tousled and white is stained with flecks of red, his robes are torn and his mantle is askew.

He’s never seen him like this before and his heart lurches. Surprise and fear are plastered across his features, far more freely than Verin’s ever seen him feel. He doesn’t talk and he seems to not even recognize him. Checking the rest of the room, the sword is returned to its sheath and Verin crouches, reaching a hand to Essek.

“Brother, what happened?” Silence, a whimper. “Essek? What’s wrong? It’s Verin, your brother.” His brows unknot, and the tension in his jaw slackens. There’s a looseness to his demeanor and as he stands he waves his hand as if to float, but nothing happens. He tries again and again. The first try was decisive, after watching him for so long Verin knows what it looks like when he casts it. The second time it’s not quite right, the third time it gets looser still. By the time Verin has stopped counting and Verin has grabbed Essek’s hands to calm him it seemed like Essek didn’t know what he was attempting to do.

“Is this some kind of spell? What happened?” His brother looks up with the face of a stranger. His eyes are open and sad, his ears fall just a touch and Essek leans in to hug Verin. He’s never wanted to do that before.

Verin hugs him back. “Oh Essie, what are we going to do?”

Caleb approaches Essek’s tower and is struck by immediate concern when the door doesn’t open for him. Essek always lets him in when he arrives, and with everything that’s happened he immediately panics. Caleb tries to tell himself Essek must be busy and has missed him tripping the wards. So, he lifts the knocker and gives the door a few raps.

He’d asked Caleb to meet him here to assist in the transport of his most important items after their trip to Aeor. He needs to run, he knows it and Caleb knows that turning himself in to the Dynasty would mean certain death so he’s agreed to help. No amount of good will from the Bright Queen would let them bargain for his favour. Selfishly, Caleb won’t allow him to get caught, so he will harbor Essek for some time, helping him stay out of the eyes of the Dynasty.

Eventually he knocks again, beginning to hold a firebolt just in case. “Uh, just a minute,” calls a stranger’s voice from behind the wood. “I’ll be right there.”

The door opens just a crack, “Who is it?”

“I am Caleb Widogast of the Mighty Nein, who is this?” His hand is up and encircled in flame.

“Oh thank the Light, one moment.” Whoever he is, he’s clearly relieved. Caleb’s firebolt stays held.

As the door opens Caleb is greeted by a tall drow, muscular with long braided back hair. He looks familiar but Caleb cannot place him. His features are slowly fading into relief from what must have been a deep concern. “Hello Caleb Widogast, I am Verin Thelyss and I am so glad you’re here. Your the wizard yes?”

Nodding, bewildered as he’s being dragged into Essek’s home by his brother, Caleb can hardly remember to respond, “Uh ja, that’s me. Where is Essek?”

“Well so I came by a few days ago and he didn’t let me into the tower which was weird. There have been some rumors going around and when our mother said he was back I had to ask. I don’t know if you know but… well it’s bad.”

He’s leading him upstairs as he explains and the back of Caleb’s neck is on fire. Verin doesn’t know, but there are rumors that are most likely true. Is he too late?

“So, I’m hoping since you also practice the arcane you might know what’s happened here and how to solve it.”

He leads Caleb into the library and Essek is seated on a chair idly flipping through a book far too quickly. It doesn’t even look like he’s reading, Caleb knows what he looks like when he’s reading. The quiet concentration and the tension it brings his jaw is completely missing. When Essek looks up at him there’s recognition but no words and when he rises to make his way to Caleb, he walks.

He’s wide-eyed and has a sweet smile across his face, it’s difficult to look away but if he doesn’t the heat rising in his cheeks will show. “Essek, what is it mein Freunde?”

No words. Why can’t he talk and why isn’t he floating?

“Essek?” A gentle hand reaches up to rest on his cheek and the heat takes over at the abrupt contact. Especially with Verin standing over his shoulder observing them. “Verin how long has he been like this?”

“About 2 days. I didn’t really know what had happened and if the Umavi found out well… I’m unsure what she would do.” Verin is a little more easier to map out than Essek had been initially and he’s been told enough stories about Dierta to understand the undercurrent of Verin’s words.

“Ja, I understand.” Verin starts at that and Caleb just continues past it, “I believe he has been affected by the spell Feeblemind. I - ah - have experience with this kind of thing. We have friends that can cure him but I will have to contact them, which I will not be able to do until tomorrow.”

Essek’s hand has wound its way into Caleb’s and he tries and fails miserably to contain the blush that he knows is spreading to his ears. Memories of little touches in Aeor flood back and Caleb pushes away thoughts of conversations he’d promised they’d have later, after Essek was safe. To call to attention this thing between them and get it out in the open before it drives him mad. Even if Essek’s feelings do not align with his it will be better to have it in the open.

“So this isn’t hurting him?”

Caleb turns to Essek, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He remembers a blur of time, when his mind had failed him. He remembers terror, looking down at his hands and not knowing whose they were. He didn’t have an anchor, nothing but his own thoughts, with someone there it might be different. Essek can’t understand him but the tone of voice seems to elicit some positive emotions and Essek squeezes his hand, a contented smile across his face, “He seems alright to me. It is unpleasant to be cut off from your casting, but he isn’t in pain and he isn’t alone.” It’s difficult to mitigate the emotion bleeding into his voice.

He pushes down memories of the years he’d been locked away and squeezes Essek’s hand back, reassuringly. “Have you gotten him to eat?”

Verin nods, “Occasionally. Probably not as much as he needs. I’m not exactly an excellent cook and nobody can see him like this so I’ve sent his staff away.”

“Alright, well I’ll just do this then.” he begins casting the tower, “I understand if you want to stay but if you need to go I can care for him.” he wants Verin to leave, he wants him gone so badly, to just take care of Essek properly without the shadow of somebody who doesn’t know hanging over them.

“I should be back to Bazzoxan soon. They’ll begin asking after me.” Caleb finishes casting the tower and leads Essek in. Just before he enters, Verin stops him, “You mean something to each other. I’ve never seen him act this way before, granted there’s an arcane influence but genuinely he has never smiled like he did when he saw you. I trust you with this because I think he would. Do not betray that.”

Caleb nods, “Of course not. We’ve faced the most difficult challenges of my life together and with our friends. I will care for him.” Verin seems satisfied with that and makes to leave, and Caleb enters the tower to find Essek waiting in the centre of the tower. He has an idea of where he wants to go. As the tower door closes behind Verin, he and Essek begin to drift upwards. Essek opens his mouth as if to reflexively murmur ‘up’ as had become their custom in their long travels together and his brows knot in distress, as if he’s realized again that his voice will not come. Caleb reaches for his hand, to comfort him and says it for them both, to which Essek smiles.

The drow releases Caleb’s hand and begins to swirl around, never leaving the central column and Caleb is forced to mirror his motions lest they collide. He flashes back to a moment of levity when they’d first come to Aeor. They had showboated then, dancing around each other as their works often did. This Essek is less restrained and his eyes and nose crinkle into a genuine smile when Caleb joins his frivolity.

They stop at the ninth floor which Caleb had known to be Esseks’ destination and immediately Essek lays on the pillows he always places in the corner. Usually, on their research expedition, he tranced in his room but on particularly emotional days they both preferred an expanse of stars above them as they rested. It became tradition and over time they’d drifted closer and closer together, until they would sometimes come to consciousness to find that through the night Essek had curled into Caleb’s side or that their hands had wound together unknowingly.

Now, Essek’s eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open in wonder as though it’s his first time seeing it all over again. Caleb stands over him, following his gaze up to the idly shifting starscape above. Caleb is quickly distracted by the versions of them that traverse different paths. Sometimes in each other’s company, other times in solitude. In a few they hold hands or make contact at the shoulders. Those are the ones he likes the most.

When his gaze is pulled back downwards, Essek stares up at him with a tenderness that quickly turns to expectation. He’s arranged burgundy cushions across the floor beside him for Caleb and so he obliges. As he stretches out across the crude bed slender, cool fingers interlock his own and he lays back and tells Essek of the constellations he’s hidden among the stars.

When Caleb himself was in this state he remembered lacking familiarity. Nothing around him made sense and the upheaval of his life only moments prior had only amplified the disorientation of the magic that kept him prisoner for 11 years.

Essek has someone to watch over him, he’s in a place that evidently brings him much joy and in recent months he’s found himself halfway to peace. Caleb finds his heart swell at the idea of making this experience bearable.

The silence was always the worst so he points to guide the elf’s eyes as he tells them the stories behind each constellation. He tells him of Nila, gentle and fierce. Of Twiggy, ever optimistic and wholly delightful. He tells him about Reani who Essek has spent some time with. Brief recognition flashes across his face, though it’s quickly replaced with frustration. Caleb remembers. He remembers knowing that someone was there who he should recognize but not having the words to know he had forgotten their name. He was in terror and treated everyone as a threat. Essek treats everything with wonder and discovery. The innocence is sweet and a syrupy feeling pools in Caleb’s throat as he’s again confronted with the way his heart swells when Essek looks at Caleb with that same contented smile.

He scoots closer and this is entirely too much. The idea that this version of Essek may curl into his side willingly, while they were fully conscious where the other version cannot unsettles him. Instead he stands, offering his hand, “Why don’t we get you something to eat ja?” There’s a momentary droop of his ears, much more pronounced than any movement he’d seen before before he lifts Essek and they go down to the dining room.

If there is to be anything significant between them it cannot be spurred under these circumstances. Caleb has to know he means it. As they wait while he cats prepare what had become their usual fare while traversing Aeor, he defaults to telling stories. First he tells him of the tunnels they traversed to reach the Dynasty, crafting an illusion as well as he can of the crystalline caves they made camp in. Food arrives and he continues weaving story and image as Essek picks at the well spiced soup comprised mainly of squash and potato. As he crafts an illusion of the dragon turtle they’d fought just after the peace talks out of amber and morphs its shape to a smaller turtle and then a sea slug, laughing to himself at the absurdity, he notices the clink of Essek’s spoon has long subsided.

Glancing over electric eyes focus on him instead of the illusion, so he drops it. “Ah, Es tut mir Leid, I know I tend to get carried away.” A little contented noise bubbles from Essek’s throat and his heart squeezes. In a desperate attempt to try and get Essek to eat more he turns back to his own soup and looks expectantly over to his friend.

Giving him a look of exasperation, he mirrors Caleb and eats most of the soup. Caleb rips up bread and encourages him to dip it in what’s left of the soup and finally, the bowl is empty. They leave the cats to clean up and Essek’s hand grasps Caleb’s again and squeezes. He knows he shouldn’t draw conclusions or let himself be taken by these gestures that the man wouldn’t make if he’d had the presence of mind, but it’s turning into a losing game.

With the time spent on the ninth floor and the prolonged battle of coaxing Essek to eat they only have a few hours until sleep. Essek takes his customary seat on the couch in the study and Caleb withdraws some of the lighter fiction that now populates the shelves. Lying back on the sofa, feet resting on the armrest, head by Essek he holds up the copy of Der Katzenprinz to show the illustrations. “You seem to like hearing me talk so why don’t I share this with you? Either way you won’t understand what I say so I will read it to you as it was originally intended.”

He begins, in Zemnian to tell him the fairy story that had brought him so much joy as a child, and the cats bring them hot chocolate as instructed. Warm mug in hand, Essek sits patiently through the story and as it turns to a close, picks up another of the books Caleb has gathered and thrusts it upon his chest. A real laugh bubbles up at that and he obliges.

As the night winds on and the mugs are emptied, Essek’s hand winds its way through Caleb’s hair, gently combing. When he looks up at Essek he’s met with soft, drooping eyes and a plain smile laced with nothing but care. He tries to stop Essek over the course of the book but finds that the drow always goes back to his hair so eventually, he leaves it. When Essek’s breaths even and elongate and he’s having trouble keeping his eyes open, Caleb sends him to trance.

He’s met with a slightly mournful look as Essek settles into the cushions he’s provided for trancing, but Caleb squeezes his shoulder, “If something goes wrong the cats will know to come get me. This is for the best.” Looking not at all reassured, but staying in place, Essek lets him leave without protest.

In the middle of sleep, dreamless and warm, there’s pressure. Then a caterwaul cuts through his subconscious followed by several more. He awakes with a start and immediately the cats gather around his feet as he pulls on slippers. They lead him to Essek’s room, where through the closed doors he can hear the sounds of furniture being disturbed.

Barging in, heart pounding, he finds Essek with tears streaming down his face. “Essek Schatz what’s wrong?” He kneels, abandoning any sense of propriety or boundaries and as he collapses into Caleb’s arms with nearly silent sobs he’s struck by how small the other man is.

“It’s alright Essek, whatever it was it cannot hurt you. I will keep you safe as you have done me.” They’ve never talked about the nights when the cats would do the same to Essek as they’d done to Caleb. When he’d been awoken from nightmares with angry red scratches down his forearms and a friend to bandage them. They’ve never quite discussed the comfort in Essek trancing just beside Caleb’s bed on difficult nights and he’s tried to stifle contemplation about the safety the man brings to his subconscious. The timing wasn’t right and despite his own longing he couldn’t make that step towards Essek. Not then.

Now, however, the elf shudders in his arms and he brings him into his lap, lighting soft amber globules of light to examine Essek. When he finds no physical harm he puts them out again and draws him in tighter as Essek clutches at the sides of his nightshirt and curls into his chest. He sings gentle lullabies his mother had once used to soothe him, voice cracking slightly as he flexes it in a long forgotten way. Eventually the shaking stops and breath becomes more solid, but hands stay grasped into his shirt so, with assistance from the cats, he maneuvers them into an easier sleeping position. Ever determined, Essek stays in his arms the whole time and when he tries to encourage him to trance beside him, arms wind around his waist.

“Okay, okay. If this will help.” Caleb resigns himself to creaky joints the next morning and sleeps with Essek in his arms, pushing away any indulgent thoughts of future nights spent with him in the same orientation.

When he awakes Essek is gone from his lap, though their fingers are laced and his head rests atop the drow’s on his shoulder. “Guten Morgen Essek.” He startles and smiles over at Caleb. Open, honest, vulnerable. They need to fix this. “I just need to prepare and then we will see Jester ja?” He receives a blank stare in return and nods to himself. “I will be back in a few moments and then we will go to Nicodranas. Just wait here.” He leaves and dresses quickly, returning to find Essek essentially where he’d been left. He takes a moment to glance over his spellbook and concentrates as he casts Sending, “Hallo Jester, I need your assistance with a pretty big restoration. Can you help today?”

She sounds half-asleep as she responds, “Caleb? Oh hi! Yeah I can help, just come to mama’s, we’re in Nicodranas. Oh my gosh I have to tell you, the dragon turtle-” her word economy same as ever.

“Okay Essek, Jester can help. I don’t know where you kept your parasol but I’m sure she can make you another.” With that they head out the door and Caleb transports them safely to the Lavish Chateau. Essek’s hand never leaves his.

Upon arrival they’re beset by a shouted greeting and Jester crushes Caleb in a hug before even realizing the other man is there. “Ohmigod Essek hi! I missed you!” Instead of awkwardly patting her back as he usually does, he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her in. “Hey Caleb, what’s going on with Essek?”

She pulls back and sees his broad smile and dancing eyes and looks at Caleb distinctly concerned. “Ah- I’m afraid he is a victim of the Feeblemind spell. It’s what they used against me in… well.” Her face clouds with understanding. “He’s okay physically though, whoever attacked him clearly just needed him out of the way. If you can use Greater Restoration that will undo the effects. He’s been ah - rather clingy.”

She waggles her eyebrows at him, making suggestive noise, and gets out the required diamond dust, sprinkling it delicately over Essek who watches in wonder. She puts both hands on her shoulders and green radiant energy emanates from her and passes to him. Before long he’s shaking his head and stepping back, voice hoarse from disuse, “Where- Jester? Thank you oh my gods thank you.”

She grins back at him, “I’m glad you’re back Essek! It’s a good thing Caleb brought you here you were acting so weird-”

She’s cut off as he chokes out, “Caleb.” and looks over with a deep violet flush and wide, apologetic eyes. “I ah- I am sorry for putting you through that. I-”

“Nein, do not apologize. Maybe we should get back to your tower to try and piece together who did this to you and what they were after ja?’

Essek nods and casts his levitation cantrip, shoulders sagging with relief when it works. “Yes, of course. Thank you Jester, I’m sorry we can’t stay but-”

She hugs the both of them again, “It’s okay, you have lots to talk about probably I don’t know bye!” she gives Caleb a wink as he begins casting the spell again and to his surprise Essek’s hand winds itself in his as they vanish.

They’re back in the tower and Caleb looks down, Essek’s hand still in his. Essek drops it and there’s a flush set deep into his cheeks and it spreads to his cheeks as their eyes meet. “Caleb I-” he swallows “I remember most of what happened, though not very clearly. I um-” his eyes are downcast and Caleb braces for what he believes to be coming, “Thank you for your patience. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable it is very difficult to explain but I think you’re aware of the feeling. I didn’t exactly have my full faculties and I fear I broke boundaries that may have encroached too far on your hospitality and our friendship.”

It’s difficult to see him so apologetic for the affection displayed. This thing between them has gone unspoken quite too long and before he realizes it he’s speaking, “Don’t apologize for that Schatz, I ah- I didn’t mind. There’s something I think we ought to discuss fairly plainly because I do not want to mince words about the way I feel anymore, it’s tiring.”

Essek looks up to meet him, steeling himself and as Caleb is about to speak he cuts him off, “I am aware enough of how I acted to realize I cannot properly hide my feelings further.” He takes a deep breath, the back of Caleb’s neck is burning and time has all but frozen, “I care deeply for you Caleb. It is difficult to bring myself to those words for I know this is the last thing I deserve but here I am, a fool for you. I know that there were moments in Aeor, I hold them close to my heart as precious things in a life of solitude. If you do not do the same, if you do not feel the same I will remain your friend if you’ll allow it, your research partner, anything. But-” he looks down almost sheepishly, “I owe it to you to be forthright and so I will tell you that if you’ll have me, I would very much like to see where this takes us.”

A smile breaks across Caleb’s face as their eyes meet, “May I kiss you?”

Essek draws in a sharp breath, eyes wide, and nods. It takes Caleb only a moment to close the gap, hands sliding around Essek’s waist and over the back of his neck as he leads them together. Essek’s hands hold his shoulders and his eyes flutter closed as their lips meet, electricity and heat mixing. When they finally pull back they’re both flushed. Essek lets out a huff of a laugh and Caleb wraps him tightly as he brings him in again, smiling into another kiss.

#shadowgast #critical role #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #the mighty nein #cr fanfic #cr #critrole #fan fiction #archive of our own #omniwrites

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dawn-the-rithmatist · 3 years

Text

Something something Zelink Murder Fic

This started as a random idea in a discord channel and now it has me in a chokehold. ANYWAY it's very much a work in progress but I'm excited about this one so here it is >:)

(Do I know anything about murder? No. Is that going to stop me? No. Also please ignore any cringy lines, I need to find a way to make them cool and not cringe.)

Zelda was a late bloomer in her family.

There were a lot of expectations on her shoulders, and she had taken much longer to live up to them than the others she knew. Her mother’s skills had shown themselves when she was only fifteen, when an ex-girlfriend had gotten a little too aggressive in wanting her back. Her cousin, she was told, had made a name for herself before the age of ten- much to her school teachers’ shock.

Zelda had made it all the way to twenty-two before taking up the legacy of the women of her family. Looking down at the slowly stiffening body of her father, she couldn’t help but wish she had killed him sooner.

She didn’t have many memories of her mother, but Urbosa told her that women in her family were practically made to be murderers. An icy poker face and a keen eye for detail- perfect for spotting unwanted evidence- mixed with an uncanny ability to stab in just the right places to get the job done. Apparently her mother had been quite good at it; in years of practicing their… er, “craft”, she had never been caught. That is, until someone else had stopped her before the cops could.

Stopped her breathing, that was.

Perhaps it was strange that she could think about it so blatantly. Mipha often wondered to her if other people (that was to say, the ones who weren’t homicidal) thought so callously about death, but in Zelda’s opinion, she wasn’t callous about death at all. She felt the rage over her mother’s murder every day, and when she killed her father, she knew she held both a knife and a life in her hands. There was nothing about death that she didn’t feel, whether it was rage or responsibility or something else entirely.

It hadn’t stopped her, of course. She was still here, and she didn’t regret it, even as she called Revali and they dealt with the body. Even as she scrubbed the blood from the floors. Even as she and Urbosa fabricated an extended “business trip” to explain his sudden disappearance, and planned her story for when the cops eventually arrived to ask her their questions.

They wouldn’t catch her, just like they never caught her mother, or her cousin, or any of the other women before her. The women of the Hylia family were the perfect monsters, and no hero, no matter how cunning, would ever take them down.

-|---->

The mayor had been murdered, and frankly? Link was not in the mood.

This was the third new case someone had handed him this week, and he was pretty sure the first two weren’t even supposed to be his problem. Odds were, someone over in the Organized Crime Department had taken one look, said “Nope, too messy,” and passed it off to the so-called “Hero of Hyrule City”. Just one of the perks of his job, he supposed.

Link loved being a detective, honestly. Most people would see some of the things in his case files and run screaming to the nearest trash can, where they would promptly spill their guts. For some reason, the violence didn’t bother him that much. Obviously, he wanted the criminals behind bars, but it didn’t scare him off the way it did most people. The news had dubbed him “courageous”. Link just figured there was probably something wrong with him. Well, he wasn’t going to tell them that.

Clearly, the killer for this particular case shared his iron stomach. It was a stabbing: messy, and definitely not done by anyone squeamish. The mayor was meant to be on a business trip to meet with some bigwigs from the county offices- Link wasn’t sure exactly what was going on there, but it all sounded very official- and instead he had been reported missing, then found dead in a ditch. It was far enough outside of town that there were no street lamps, and wild grass had begun to carve cracks in the pavement. Definitely not the kind of place the mayor would be hanging around.

“Someone dumped him out here,” he said to the other officers. “Get whatever you can from the scene, but wherever he was killed, it definitely wasn’t here. We’re closer to Hyrule City than anywhere else, so we’ll start asking questions there.” When everyone was in agreement, he got back in his car and started heading back towards the precinct.

The body definitely hadn’t been fresh. He had probably been killed before leaving town. Not to mention the stab wounds- wounds, plural. Someone had really wanted this guy dead. Yet, oddly enough, each stab had been perfectly placed to do maximum damage... almost like the killer had prepared in advance where they wanted to strike. Multiple strikes said crime of passion. Perfect placement said seasoned killer. It didn’t add up.

“Who wanted you dead, Bospheromus?” Link muttered to himself. It was an interesting case, to be sure. Not to mention high profile; a lot of eyes would be on him until he found the culprit. No pressure.

It would work out, he promised himself as he sped through the city. It was just another case, after all.

---

(and then they meet and team up against the mob and identity shenanigans and fall in love and all that jazz)

(to be continued :) )

#zelink #legend of zelda #zelda #link #loz #zelink murder au #i wrote this in an hour like an activated sleeper agent #there will be more of this eventually but for now have the results of my brainrot #dawn speaks #dawn writes #fanfic

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

Among Us idea: Because I'm a little bit obsessed with game mechanics and glitches in fic...how about a round where one of the Hermits gets left behind? The game ends, and everyone but them is transported to the lobby, but they're just left on an empty ship flying eternally to some destination it will never reach... All the tasks are done. There's nothing left to do. So why is the game still keeping them there? And how do they escape? (It could also be two people left, if writing just one alone would be boring. Your choice who!)

SKSKSKSKSK HOW DO YOU DO THIS I’VE BEEN PLANNING OUT AN IDEA IN MY HEAD FOR THE LAST FEW DAYS IN WHICH TWO PLAYERS ACCIDENTALLY GET LEFT BEHIND HOW DO YOU KEEP READING MY MIND (/lh)

also i had a kind of idea to expand the concept a little bit and i hope that’s okay :)

also also i too love the ideas that utilise glitches or kinda ignore game mechanics; they're always so interesting to write! :D

…

Having finished his tasks a long time ago and not being teleported to any meetings lately, Skizz wanders around the whole ship, trying to find a friend. A buddy. Or literally anyone. But the ship seems deserted.

Finally, Skizz wanders into admin and checks the special table.

To his shock, he finds only two yellow faces on the screen: one in admin and one in cafeteria. So he rushes into the cafeteria and literally bumps into someone coming the other way.

“Oh my gosh, FINALLY,” Impulse breathes. “Where IS everyone?”

Skizz glances away, unable to meet his best friend’s gaze. “We have a problem.”

Impulse frowns. “What?” he asks warily.

“Um…” Skizz rubs the back of his neck. “So… it seems we’re the only two people on the ship.”

It takes a moment for Impulse’s brain to process what his friend just said. “...what?”

“I looked around the whole ship and then went to the admin table. There were only two yellow dots: me and you. There’s literally nobody else anywhere on the ship, dude.”

“But… I…” Impulse blinks. “How is that possible? Did the game end and leave us behind, somehow?”

“I feel like that’s the only possible explanation, but at the same time, it makes no sense.”

“Well, if this IS what happened, it’s gotta be a glitch, right?” says Impulse.

Skizz nods. “Gotta be. But now the question is… how do we get outta here?”

Impulse gazes around the room. “The game always automatically puts us back in the lobby when we’re done, so… I don’t think there’s a way of manually doing it.”

Skizz stares back at him with wide eyes. “You mean we’re stuck in THIS particular ship forever?!”

“W-Well, hopefully not FOREVER,” Impulse responds nervously. “I’m sure they’ll have realised we’re missing by now and they’ll be trying to get us back.”

“But what if they can’t?!” Skizz yelps. “We’ll be trapped in this purgatory forever!”

“Not helping, Skizz,” snaps Impulse. “We’ll be totally fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, like I can have ANY faith in your words anymore,” mutters Skizz, turning away.

Impulse glances sharply at him, sensing that his best friend’s words aren’t about Among Us. Not entirely. “What do you mean?”

Skizz just rolls his eyes and walks off.

Impulse watches him go. Looks like Skizz hasn’t been so quick to forgive and forget after all. Now the way Skizz was acting around him earlier makes sense.

After making a quick trip around the ship, Impulse discovers Skizz sitting leaning against the wall in admin, tossing a stack of ID cards at the wall one at a time.

“Still no way off,” Impulse reports. “Looks like we’re stuck here until they rescue us. Flying through space. On a ship heading to nowhere. An endless journey. With nothing except-.”

“Yes, okay, I get it!” Skizz snaps at him.

After a moment, Impulse leans against the admin table. “Skizz, you’ve been acting weird around me all night. I think we need to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk.”

“C’mon. We’re stuck here on a ship on our own for the foreseeable future. There’s no better time to talk than now.”

“Okay!” snaps Skizz unexpectedly, jumping to his feet. “FINE! You wanna talk?! I don’t care! You did a LOT of talking back there on 3rd Life and not a word of it was true!”

Impulse frowns. “Is that what this is about?”

Skizz’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “WH- WHAT DO YOU MEAN “is that what this is about”?! You say that like I’m mad at you for stealing my sandwich! Impulse, you LIED to me, BETRAYED me, and then watched Grian KILL me! You told me over and over again that you were on my side and you were loyal to us but you planned to betray us from the start! Y-You planned to betray ME. Do you-” He breaks off with a bitter laugh. “You know what, I was gonna say “do you have any idea how much that hurts?” but you DO, don’t you? Because your own ally turned on you. And murdered you. And you know what? YOU DESERVED IT!”

Impulse can only stare at his best friend with an expression of guilt and sadness.

“I wanted you to go far, dude! I wanted you to win at one point!” Skizz’s voice cracks. “I thought you were the best of us but it turns out you were nothing but a dirty liar and a traitor! I thought “oh, his strategy of playing all sides is pretty smart, actually, but he’s gonna have to pick a side at some point” but I didn’t realise that meant pretending to pick a side and then STABBING THEM IN THE BACK! Of all the- the jerky things to do! You pick the worst one! I-I just don’t understand how you could do that to someone you’ve been a brother to for A QUARTER OF A CENTURY! GOD, you SO deserved to die and the biggest regret of my life is that I didn’t get imposter tonight so I could stab you in the FACE!”

Skizz finally stops talking, breathing heavily. He takes in a deep breath, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Wow… I did not expect to yell that much…”

“I…” Impulse searches for something to say. But he can’t find anything. “I don’t…”

“You don’t have to say anything, Impulse.” Skizz gives a weak smile. “I-I think I just needed to… to let my feelings out.”

“You just needed to yell at me, huh? I get that.”

“Haha, yeah. Remember that time I snuck onto Hermitcraft and did a bunch of reckless things and then died, and you didn’t know if I was gonna respawn or not?”

Impulse nods, a small smile appearing on his face. “That’s what I was indirectly referring to. I think my throat hurt from yelling at you for, like, two weeks after that.”

“Are we even now, then?” asks Skizz.

“Well, I mean… Probably not. I still have a lot to make up for.”

Skizz shakes his head. “No, it… it’s okay. We all did things in that place that we’re not proud of.”

“Even the great Skizzleman?” teases Impulse weakly.

“Oh heck yeah. I still have nightmares about how I violently murdered two of my friends and how bloodthirsty I felt for so long. It freaks me out that I got to that point, man. Even in Among Us when I murder people, even you, I never got THAT bad.”

“Yeah, 3rd Life was…” Again, Impulse searches for the right word. “...an experience. In more ways than one.”

“It really was,” Skizz murmurs, letting out a long breath. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have let it affect Among Us so much.”

“No, it’s okay. And we can-.”

Impulse breaks off Skizz suddenly disappears in front of him. Blinking, he just has time to take a step forward before the admin room vanishes and he finds himself back in the lobby.

With eight people staring at him.

“Oh my gosh, finally!” Tango gasps, grabbing both Impulse and Skizz in a hug. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, dude,” laughs Skizz quietly. “We just yelled at each other a bit, that’s all.”

Impulse chuckles. “Well, it was mostly Skizz doing the yelling.”

“Yeah, true. How did you guys even manage to get us out?”

“The insane genius that is Etho hacked into the code and managed to force the round to end again,” Tango responds. “Somehow. I dunno how. Took us a while to figure out what’d happened, though.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen that glitch before,” Etho chimes in. “There was six left, Grian and Ren double-killed me and Pungence to win, and that should’ve been it. The rest of us respawned in the lobby but we realised you two were missing.”

“Whoa, that’s so weird.” Skizz exchanges a look with Impulse. “Cuz for us, it was like the round just hadn’t ended.”

“Yeah, we’d both done all our tasks and we had no idea anything had happened.”

“What did you guys do?”

Impulse and Skizz shoot each other another look, silently making a mutual decision. “Just talked a bit and tried to look for a way out,” Impulse replies. “That’s all.”

Tango frowns, clearly picking up on the slight tension between them, but he doesn’t mention it. “Okay. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yeah.”

Skizz thinks back to the way he’d exploded at Impulse, and the way Impulse had looked at him with fear in his eyes. All the fury, the despair, the hurt… It had all spilled out at once. Skizz never wants to feel that way again.

“Let’s hope not.”

#hermitcraft among us #impulsesv #skizzleman #tangotek #etho #vaunna’s requests

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awhmilkywey · 3 years

Text

burgers and fries | t. carrick |

pairing & genre: tobias carrick x f!mc (ava dahl) — fluffy as hell

warnings: one curse word | english is not my first language

word count: 2.4k

request | prompt | neither | challenge

tags: @usuallyamazinglyaverage ; @perriewinklenerdie ; @cyb3r-kat ; @moonsoltice ; @romewritingshop ; @tsrookie ; @hedwigsbixch

a/n: a special thank you to @usuallyamazinglyaverage @perriewinklenerdie and @cyb3r-kat for allowing me the use of their characters (anna dawson, claire herondale and bianca hemgrove, respectivel) and a bonus to perrie for being generally awesome and helping me out with this fic. You can thank her for the Romeo line!

Ava has a history of flouting protocol to assist her patients.

The machine whirred to life, shooting a steady stream of murky liquid into the small paper cup. Ava skimmed her medical chart while she waited. Her patient was a young adult who came in with severe chest pain and discoloured skin around her calves. The primary doctor wrote down that earlier scans ruled out heartburn as well as pericarditis. She reached for her coffee and took a cautious sip. The blemishes could point towards a blood clot—deep vein thrombosis, perhaps? It could quickly develop into a pulmonary embolism if left untreated.

The nurses' station was relatively quiet when she approached.

“Could you order a lung scan and a chest X-ray for my patient, please?”

Marlene took the chart with a professional nod. Her exhaustion matched her own.

Ava murmured a quiet thank you and tossed her cup in the bin. The results wouldn't be back for a couple hours. If her hunch was correct then she would most likely need to page the surgical department. For now, however, her rounds were finished and she could take a breather.

Her face twisted into a frown as she remembered her bag was still in the conference room. Her confrontation with Harper ensured she had been too uncomfortable to remain there. Ava decided to take the stairs one at a time. Saying she was dreading their next meeting was an understatement. They would need to have a serious conversation with Bloom. Ethan breaching protocol was on him alone. A conversation with Harper was in order as well; earlier she had been caught by surprise but she wouldn't let that kind of treatment stand. Barging in, wrongfully accusing her without any evidence whatsoever, yelling and refusing to believe her even when the culprit was standing right there—Ava wondered when the cool renowned surgeon became an unruly child.

The revelation that Harper still saw her as a reckless intern made her incredibly angry. Her one mistake happened over two years ago and she came forward to shoulder the blame. Ava had grown since then, both as a doctor and as a person. Her near-death experience also served to put things into perspective, to say the least. She would always have the best interest of her patients at heart but she would never again jeopardize her career so foolishly.

That thought brought her back to Ethan. Frankly she didn't recognise him any more. He came back from the Amazon a different man—one she wasn't sure she liked all that much. Their tentative relationship hadn't stood a chance. Him being her attending was difficult enough, then she was facing the possibility of being suspended, and just as she thought they could make it work after all, Naveen promoted her and Ethan was her superior once more. He maintained a painfully professional demeanour around her from there on out. Ava wasn't doing too great during that time.

And when her intern year came to an end, he disappeared. He wasn't answering her calls nor her texts and her trips to his apartment were fruitless. She found out he was out of the country through WHO's Instagram account. She stopped bothering afterwards.

Ava shook her head, red curls bouncing over her shoulders. Dwelling on the past wasn't helpful. Especially when the Ethan from her memories didn't correlate with the Ethan she was currently working with. Her most recent conversations with him left a sour taste in her mouth.

The conference room wasn't as empty as she expected.

“Heading out?” Tobias sent her a warm smile.

“I've some free time to kill.”

He nodded in understanding. “Holding up okay?”

Ava hesitated. It occurred to her that he was the only person she was truly comfortable with on the team. The only one who'd never underestimated her or made her feel lesser.Tobias was the person who either supported her suggestions or countered them with his own logical arguments and used both as teaching opportunities.

“I've been through worse,” she replied, shrugging non-committally.

He scowled. “What Harper did was uncalled for.”

Ava offered him a wry smile. “I have a history, don't you see?”

“Oh you mean the history of being civil to Bloom even though you want to punch his face in?” he asked innocently.

A laugh bubbled up in her chest and he soon followed with his own deep chuckle.

“There's this place downtown.” He sobered up but was still grinning. “One of my favourites, if you want to check it out.”

“What's in it for me?” Ava raised a playful eyebrow.

His eyes darkened, tongue briefly flickering out. “Good music, good books. We could get dinner after.”

Ava swallowed. “Sounds fantastic.”

Tobias' intense look softened. “It's a date,” he said cheekily.

She laughed again and swatted at his arm. “Lead the way, Romeo, before I change my mind.”

Bantering with him was easier than it should've been. Knowing how laid-back he could be when comfortable made her notice more about how he carried himself around the rest of the team. It gave her a small thrill to be able to witness that side of him.

Tobias drove her to a time-worn shop tucked away between a colourful diner and a boarded-up building. An old sign hung over the entrance reading The Starlight Den. The outer walls were covered in messy chalky drawings and splashes of peeling paint, broken crayons and plastic buckets sitting to one side. He laid a hand on her lower back, gently guiding her through the battered wooden door.

“I used to come here all the time as a kid,” he commented, glancing fondly around the shop.

Neutral colours predominated with the occasional vibrant hue flashing here and there. Bookshelves lined the left side, brimming with works from classics to comic books. Customers could settle down on various armchairs and sofas, reading under the light of several dimmed lamps. Ava slid her eyes from the makeshift coffee bar to the vintage posters on the opposite wall. A soft tune drifted from the gramophone in the corner. Neat stacks of vinyl records were arranged in polished boxes in the centre. A counter held several players for general use nearby.

“This is a dream come true,” Ava marvelled, running her fingertips across the book spines.

Tobias hummed, reaching to pluck a comic from the shelf. He presented it to her with a flourish. Spider-Man was holding a man clad in green on the cover.

“First introduction to Spidey. Also the first comic I ever read,” he disclosed, absently thumbing through the pages.

“I didn't know you read comics.”

Tobias cocked his head. “Haven't read them in a long while but they were a big part of my childhood.”

Ava cast a look about. “I can see why you'd like to come here.”

Two teenagers were hanging around a record player, giggling quietly to each other, while a sharply dressed man made small talk with the handsome man behind the register. The overall atmosphere was quite cosy. It felt a bit like home. When she returned her wandering gaze to Tobias, he offered her a knowing smile.

“I have an idea,” he announced with a quick clap of his hands. “We each pick a book and a record for the other. I have a player back at my apartment.”

Ava crossed her arms. “Is this a ploy to get me into your bed, Carrick?”

He raised his palms up in mock surrender. “Absolutely not. Just a ploy to get a pretty woman eating take-out on my couch.”

“From that diner next door?”

“Rosa makes the best burgers and milkshakes in Boston.” He gave a solemn nod, cracking up in the following beat.

Ava contemplated him. “It's a date.”

He lit up with a boyish smile.

She didn't know much about his likes and dislikes given that all their interactions revolved around their work. Browsing the bookcases, she opted to get him a copy of The Little Prince. She remembered her papa reading it to her when she was sick or when grief was heavier than most days. She picked up A Day at the Raceson her way to the counter.

“Don't peek,” Tobias warned after their purchases were done. “I'm going to get our food and then we can head back.”

“I want nuggets.” Ava blushed when her stomach growled.

He patted her head. “As you wish, m'lady.”

Ava watched him walk away, unable to remember the last time she was this happy. Tobias was so carefree. He didn't allow their work to burden him, always trying to finding the silver lining in each case, and refused to let it interfere with his life outside the hospital. It was a breath of fresh air, compared to her previous relationship with Ethan. Tobias was light where Ethan was dark.

The ride back to his flat was mostly quiet. He tapped on the wheel along with the song playing on the radio—she vaguely recognised it as being a new Ariana Grande single. She, on the other hand, was more occupied with staring out the window and trying to control her nerves. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, making her almost want to throw up. Tobias was undeniably attractive, charming and witty. And they were going to be alone at his place.

Ava choked on air.

He was quick to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, hey, I got you.” At her lack of response, he slid his hand further and began to rub her back, eyes briefly leaving the road to look her over.

“I'm good,” she gasped.

His touch continued to burn her skin until the car was parked in his garage.

Tobias' flat was messier than she expected but not in the dirty sense of the word. It was a sort of organised chaos that breathed life into the walls. The coffee table peeked from beneath a mountain of medical journals, two blankets were thrown haphazardly on the couch with a pillow half-fallen on the carpet, like he had dozed off while reading. The telly was still on as well and she paused to watch Jessica Aniston and Matt LeBlanc acting on the screen.

He steered her towards the kitchen.

“I forgot to clean, sorry.” He seemed unusually sheepish.

“Mine's not much better, believe me,” she reassured him, squeezing his arm. She took the food bags from him and set them on the table. “Kitchen or living room?”

“Living room!” he called out from the pantry, coming out with a package of napkins and a container of assorted candy.

He had stored away the blankets and the pillow by the time she brought the food to the coffee table, journals stashed away in the corner bookcase. Ava noticed that he also changed into a looser tee, his biceps highlighted underneath the artificial lighting. He grabbed their purchases from the shop and turned to her with a bright smile.

“I realised we don't actually know each other that well,” he said, grabbing the book from the bag, “and I would like to remedy that.”

Ava accepted the gift, lips quirking up at the sight of the blue cover. “I've never read The Great Gatsby,” she informed.

His smile widened. “Let me know what you think when you're done, yeah?”

“I got you this one.” God she was nervous. “I, uh—I didn't know what you liked so I figured I'd give you one of my favourites. After my mum died... my dad used to read it to me as a kid.”

Tobias met her gaze and she was surprised to see him so serious. “I—Thank you, Ava. It means a lot that you would share that with me.”

She needed to look away. Was he getting closer?

Her stomach growled again.

“Eat,” he murmured, slowly leaning back. “I'll put the records on.”

He returned to the couch as the beginnings of Dancing Queenfilled the room. Ava beamed.

“How did you know?”

He popped a fry in his mouth. “I may have cheated on this one. Claire told me you were a fan.”

The mention of her friend warmed her heart. “I didn't know you and C were buddies.”

Tobias rubbed the back of his neck. “We're not, not really. I, um, went to ask her how you were after what happened. Anna and Hemgrove were gone already, so...”

His concern sent the butterflies into a frenzy. Ava focused on her burger so he wouldn't see the deep red staining her cheeks.

It was only two episodes into Friends that she noticed the missing fries in her plate. An indignant yelp was muffled by the food in her mouth. Tobias blindly reached for another one but she slapped his hand away, earning her a surprised squawk from the man. Ava made a move for his plate and was stopped when he put his arm between them, lifting the other up so she wouldn't touch his food.

“Oi! That's not fair!” she protested, not realising she was half-sitting on his lap as she tried to get her fries back.

“All's fair when you're hungry, sweetheart,” he retorted, laughing at her worthless attempts.

The loud sound of porcelain breaking was unmistakable. In an effort to get closer, she had pressed against his chest, their bodies practically glued together, and the twist of his wrist weakened his grip on the plate. Ava sunk into him in defeat and promptly peeped as her groin made contact with his.

“Shit, sorry Av—nghh...” He cut off with a strangled moan.

Ava hurried to relieve the pressure of her thigh on his crotch, feeling mortified.

“I'm sorry—” “Wait—” they spoke at the same time, both floundering.

“Just—wait.” Tobias held onto her hips, heaving out a frustrated sigh.

She would never admit to anyone that no, she very much did not want to move.

Except maybe to the girls, who would most definitely grill her tomorrow.

They remained in that exact position for a couple silent moments. Neither sure what to say nor how to act upon the revelation that they were entirely too comfortable physically for two people who were supposed to be just work acquaintances.

Up close, his eyes looked more green than brown. Ava told herself that she had bigger things to worry about.

But it was a pretty colour.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he quietly confessed. “I have to know, though. Is—is there anything between you and Ethan?”

She let out a shaky breath, touching her forehead to his. “Not since last year.”

He gave a short nod, raising a hand to cup her face. “Could there be anything between us?”

“Why don't you kiss me and find out?” she whispered against his lips.

She felt his smile before he did.

#tobias carrick #open heart #choices: stories you play #choices open heart #open heart tobias #choices #fanfiction #f: burgers and fries

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bxcketbarnes · 3 years

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Royal Betrayal

Pairing: Gardener!Ashton Irwin x Princess!Reader

Words: 1800+

Author’s Note: Hello, it’s me again. I’ve got this pretty cute fic here that I hope you guys will like. I feel like it’s kind of rushed but hey, I still kind of like it lmao. Let me know what you guys think, mmkay? Have a good one xox

"I cannot believe that he's trying to sleaze his way into the royal family," you mutter to yourself as you stroll through the garden. A sigh leaves your lips while rubbing your face, trying to calm yourself down.

To think your ex-boyfriend dares to try and please your parents, which he never liked in the first place, just so he can get in on the wealth is astonishing. You wonder why you went out with him. Crazy ass motherfucker.

As you continue to walk through the garden you end up tripping over some tools. A shriek leaves your lips and you lose your footing before crashing onto the ground.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry, m'lady," a familiar voice panics and rushes towards you, getting onto one of his knees. "Are you okay?"

You stare up at the blue sky as a small amount of pain flows through your body. Your eyes meet your gardener's and let out a short sigh. "Physically or mentally?" You question and he raises an eyebrow.

"Let's start with physically since my equipment tripped you," the black-haired man chuckles and you sit up, dusting the dirt off of your shirt.

"I'm okay. It's not like I haven't taken a tumble before, Ashton," you tell him with a giggle and the man lets out a breath of relief.

Ashton helps you up and you dust the rest of yourself off before running a hand through your hair. "That's good because if you ended up getting hurt your mother would kill me," Ash mumbles and you wave your hand, letting out a scoff.

"No, she wouldn't. She'd scold you a bit, but that's it. She loves you too much," you say with a grin.

The black-haired man chuckles in response, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "You seriously okay, though? You seemed… upset?" He asks and the smile falls off of your face, a deep breath coming from your lips.

"Do you remember Jake?" You mumble and Ashton internally groans at the mention of your ex-boyfriend but nods his head.

"Unfortunately, yeah," Ashton mentions as the flashbacks of the two of you making out in the garden play through his head.

He was always jealous of Jake for having your complete attention and at one point you didn't even talk to him because of the guy.

You notice Ashton's jaw clenching and you furrow your eyebrows a bit before shaking your head. "Well, he's trying to sweeten up to mom and dad so he can be in the royal family," you spit angrily while crossing your arms over your chest. "And I don't know what to do about it. I don't just wanna go up to my parents and be like, "hey, don't listen to this fool," you know?"

"I'm sure they'd listen to you, Y/N," Ash tells you, his fingers running through his hair. "You're their daughter. They should listen to you."

A sigh leaves your lips as you direct your gaze back towards the house, nodding your head. "You're right, Ash. Thank you," you smile and Ashton returns it, bringing his hand to your shoulder.

"You got this."

Ashton walks into the house to tell the Queen that his duties were done for today when he stops in his tracks at the sound of screaming. "Mom! I'm telling you that he's only doing it for the money!" You scream as you pace in front of your parents, baffled that they're not listening to you. "He never cared about you guys! How can you not believe me?"

Your mother sets down her teacup before sitting back against the couch. "You know he mentioned that you would try to do this," she states and you stare down at her, feeling the tears come to your eyes.

"You know nothing about him. You know what he shows you. I know him. I know how he really is! The fact that you're "siding" with him over your daughter hurts," you whisper as your voice cracks.

Ashton's heart breaks at the sound of your voice, his hand knocking on the door. "I'm… sorry to interrupt," he mentions as the three of you glance over at him. "I just wanted to tell you I finished my duties. I'll be in the guest house if you need me."

You tear your gaze away almost immediately, wiping the tears that fell from your eyes. "Thank you, Ashton. We'll see you tomorrow morning," your mother grins and Ashton nods his head, glancing at you once more before walking away. "Now, your father and I are trying to make plans for dinner with Jake. We'll talk later, sweetheart."

A scoff leaves your lips and you shake your head. "I won't be attending," you spit and walk out of the living room, rushing out of the giant house.

You find yourself heading towards Ash's place that's on the property, just needing to get away for a bit. You run your fingers through your hair as memories with Jake flash through your mind. More tears stream down your cheeks as you step up to Ashton's front door, knocking softly.

The door opens and you immediately crash your body into Ash's. His arms wrap around your shoulders as you cry into his chest, gripping the tank top he's wearing.

"So, turns out I was wrong," he mumbles into your hair, trying to lighten the mood and a short laugh comes from your lips.

You pull away from him, wiping your face before taking a deep breath. "He has them brainwashed. I… I honestly don't know what to do," you inform him, and Ashton strokes your cheek gently.

"I don't know either, Y/N. I thought for sure they'd listen to their daughter." Ashton thinks back to the conversation he overheard, his eyebrows furrowing together. "What did you mean when you said that you know how he really is?"

You dip your head, low-key wishing he hadn't heard that. You run your fingers through your hair and Ash hooks his finger under your chin, making you look at him. "He… um, he used to abuse me," you whisper and the black-haired man's eyes widen, his grip on your chin tightening a bit.

Ashton notices you wince and he removes his hand from your face, muttering an apology. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asks in a hushed whisper, his eyes softening as they meet your vulnerable ones.

"He would threaten me. It's why I distanced myself from you. I'm sorry," you confess to him and Ashton pulls you back into his chest. You take a deep breath and wrap your arms around his waist. "If I hurt you I didn't mean it."

"It's okay," Ashton whispers and presses a light kiss to your head. Your hands move up Ashton's back, nuzzling your face into his chest.

A sigh leaves your lips and you pull away from him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "It's not. To know that I hurt you hurts me," you tell him and graze your fingertips along his arms.

Ashton gives you a small smile and brings his hand to your face, gently stroking your cheek. "You're here now. That's all that matters, sweetheart." Your heart flutters in your chest and you lean into his touch.

The space between the two of you starts to diminish when someone loudly knocks on Ash's door. You jump and glance over your shoulder to see a figure standing just outside his place.

"Who's that?" Ash mumbles quietly and you shrug your shoulders as the black-haired man heads towards his front door. You follow him, your hand resting against his lower back as he opens the door.

The smug smirk of your ex-boyfriend stares you in the face and your stomach drops. "Y/N, my love! There you are!"

Your hand grips the tank top Ashton's wearing, swallowing the lump that's forming in your throat. "What are you doing here?" You ask and Jake holds his hand out to you.

"Your mother didn't tell you? I'm here for our dinner," he tells you.

"It's nowhere near close to dinner time," you mumble and Jake's eyes move from you to Ash.

"I thought I told you to stay away from her," he snarls at the gardener and Ashton lets out a scoff.

He crosses his arms over his chest, staring down at your ex. "The two of you aren't together anymore, so I believe that's not in effect anymore," Ashton states coldly and you rest your cheek against his shoulder blade.

Jake laughs maniacally and shakes his head, his dark eyes moving to yours. "Well, the Queen has offered her hand to me so whatever this is," he gestures to the two of you and a sharp gasp leaves your lips.

"No," you whisper and look up at Ash. "No… no, she wouldn't do that without asking me first-"

"Oh, but she did sweetheart. Now let's go," he growls and reaches out to grab your arm when Ashton steps in front of you.

"She's not going anywhere with you. So, you can inform the Queen that she'll see her later," Ashton stands up for you and Jake scoffs.

He walks away from the two of you, mumbling to himself and Ash closes his door before letting out a sigh. "This can't be happening," you mutter and run your fingers through your hair. "I can't fucking believe this is happening."

"Hey…" Ashton coos and rests his hands on your shoulders. You look up at him with tears in your eyes and the black-haired man pushes some of your hair from your face. "It's okay. We'll figure it out. I promise."

You nod your head and Ash brings your body into him. "Thank you," you mumble into his chest as the two of you find yourselves in each other's embrace again.

"What if…" he trails off and you pick your head up, seeing his hazel eyes looking at everything but you. "What if we get married before your engagement."

Your eyes widen at his idea, Ashton's eyes finally meeting yours and you can see the admiration in them. "You want to marry me?" You ask in a whisper and Ash smiles at you.

"I do, yeah. You're such an amazing woman. You're kind, funny, quirky at some times but I've loved you for years," he confesses and your cheeks blush.

"Ash…" you mumble as your heart beats quickly in your chest. "I'd love to marry you."

The Gardener places his hands on your face before pressing his lips to yours. Your fingers run through his hair as you kiss him back, your free arm wrapping around his neck.

A giggle leaves your lips when Ashton pulls away, his forehead resting against yours. "Let’s go get married, yeah?" You grin up at him and his thumb glides across your bottom lip.

"Let's go get married, love."

Taglist: @calpalirwin @myloverboyash @sexgodashton @ashxxxirxxx @prettymuchxarreaga @aladyofalbion @philthepegacorn @calumspupils @fallinallinturner @bvbygxrl @suchalonelysunflower @spicylftv @marshmallowtraver @devilatmydoor @jessalyn-jpeg @maddz-world @everyscarisahealingplace @itsasadfishworld @talkfastromance4 @notinthesameguey @iwritesiriusly @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof

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mypunkpansexualtwin · 3 years

Text

Here we come with day two of pegoryu week, and it's gonna be the last one I post on time. I'll still be trying, don't get me wrong, I'm just not the kind of person who can write a fic I'm happy with in one day.

Yet.

As always, bulk of the fic is under a cut, link is in the reblogs, and I will daydream of baking you cookies if you share it.

“I did warn you.”

“Not even an arcade, dude?”

“Not unless you wanna get on a train for forty minutes.”

“Ugh. Laaaaame.”

After nearly a month of planning, Ryuji was visiting his boyfriend for Golden Week. One whole month of bargaining with all of their parents, putting aside every last yen they could spare, studying their asses off to earn the trip, and, of course, long phone conversations that were probably about eighty percent “I miss you”s and “I love you”s and “I can’t wait to see you”s. With Akira’s help via video call study sessions, Ryuji even managed to get into the top thirty percent of the class in their latest exams; a new record for him that effectively guaranteed the visit. But they’d been so busy celebrating and planning getting him out to the country that they may have completely forgotten to figure out what they were actually going to do when he got there. So now they were on the Kurusus’ living room couch, Akira cross-legged on one end and Ryuji stretched out across the rest with his head on his boyfriend’s lap, trying to scrape together a date idea.

“I’ll say it again. I warned you. Several times,” Akira repeated while he ran a hand through Ryuji’s hair. “There’s nothing to see here.” Ryuji caught Akira’s free hand, tangled their fingers together, and kissed the back of his hand.

“Yeah there is. You’re here, so I say it’s worth it.” Ryuji grinned as his boyfriend turned pink at the tips of his ears and wrinkled his nose.

“Sap,” Akira grumbled like there wasn’t a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Like they both didn’t know full well how much he liked hearing how happy Ryuji was that they were together, in every sense of the word.

“You love me,” Ryuji said, his grin widening just a little further. Akira’s expression melted into something almost embarrassingly soft as he went back to playing with his boyfriend’s hair. He curled and combed his fingers gently through the short strands, and huffed out a quiet laugh as Ryuji went boneless when he grazed his nails over his scalp.

“Yeah. I really do,” Akira sighed happily and got another kiss pressed to his knuckles. “You’re kind of my hero, you know.” It was something he’d tried to make a habit of telling his boyfriend, even before they were dating. Ryuji still sputtered and objected like it was his first time hearing it.

“You-- I-- that ain’t…” He sat up and shoved a pillow into Akira’s face with a groan. “Now who’s the sap?”

Akira draped himself across Ryuji’s shoulders and planted a kiss on the side of his neck, then smiled against his skin at the shiver that got. “You just have that effect on me, sunshine.” Ryuji grunted in response. “You like it.” Another grunt. Akira blew a puff of air at the back of Ryuji’s ear and laughed when he got swatted away. “Don’t pout. You were right, a date sounds nice. But you gotta help me figure it out.”

His boyfriend sprawled back out on the couch after pouting for a few more seconds, then looked up at him with those big brown eyes he’d been a sucker for since day one.

“Aight, what kind of food you got around here?” Akira could have been exasperated at his boyfriend’s predictability, but a dinner date was more feasible than a movie date, and a lot more pleasant than a gym date. He may have loved Ryuji Sakamoto with all his heart, but he didn’t plan on running again on the regular unless it was for his damn life.

“There’s only like ten places total around here. We’ve already visited three, two of them won’t serve me because the owners don’t like me anymore--”

Ryuji’s head jerked up at that, knocking Akira’s hand free. It was ridiculous how cute the guy was when he was offended. “What?! Why the hell not?”

Akira shrugged and went back to petting Ryuji’s hair in an attempt to soothe him. “Didn’t exactly bother to ask, but probably my record. Cleared of charges or not, my reputation mutated while I was gone and I haven’t really been able to fix it.” Not that he’d tried very hard when he didn’t plan on staying for even a second longer than necessary.

The frown that wrinkled Ryuji’s features was almost comical, but he probably wouldn’t appreciate being laughed at while he was already agitated. Especially when it was on Akira’s behalf. “Ugh, this town sucks, can’t wait to get you out of here. Wait, only probably your record? Why else would they dislike you?”

Akira huffed out another laugh, wry and joyless this time. “My uncle’s a pretty conservative guy, I heard he didn’t react well when he found out I was dating some guy from the city.” Quite literally heard it; he’d been getting ready to visit his cousin and could hear the old man shouting inside the house from the sidewalk. He’d opted to text Yuuta to meet up somewhere well away from their house instead when that happened. And, naturally, the news had mysteriously spread to the rest of town by the end of that week.

Ryuji sat bolt upright and twisted back around to face Akira with a scowl. “Your own effin’ family won’t serve you? What the hell?!” His expression was thunderous, made worse by the doomcloud over his head when he asked. Ryuji almost never got pulled into fights these days and was very proud of that fact--they both were--but Akira was certain that he was ready to deck the old man on sight on his behalf. He’d never encourage it, but the thought still made something in his chest swell a little.

“Just my uncle when I try to sit in. If it’s my aunt or my cousin taking delivery calls, they’ll still take the order. Plus a discount and extra desserts, if Yuuta’s the one who answers.” Akira shrugged, then tugged at Ryuji’s shirt to coax him into laying back down in his lap. He did, albeit begrudgingly, and Akira went back to running his hands soothingly through that remarkably soft shock of bright blond hair. “Anyways, the other five restaurants in town are fast food that you could get back home. So…” He trailed off and watched Ryuji’s scowl soften into an annoyed frown.

“Yeah, pass.” Ryuji closed his eyes, either to think or soak up Akira’s touch as he played with his hair, then cracked one eye open after a moment. “How ‘bout a picnic? You’re a pretty good cook and I bet we could find us a nice spot to just chill.”

That... was a pretty solid idea. Actually, that sounded perfect, and Akira knew exactly the spot for them to set up. He opened his mouth to agree, but was cut off by a low rumble of thunder outside. “...Maybe later this week? The weather should clear up before you have to go,” he said instead. Ryuji pouted up at the ceiling, or more likely up at the sky beyond it for ruining his brilliant plan. Then it was Akira’s turn to pout when Ryuji abruptly sat back up out of reach, but not for long.

The next thing he knew, he was being crowded up against the arm of the couch by one blond bombshell of an ex-track star. Ryuji was suddenly determined to pour himself into his boyfriend’s lap, all mischief and heat as he crawled across the couch towards Akira. He couldn’t think clearly while facing down that wicked grin curving across Ryuji’s face like Haru’s favorite battleaxe cleaving through the air. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d made out. It wouldn’t even be the first time Ryuji had taken the initiative and left Akira a flustered wreck when they did. But since it had been over a month since the last time he’d seen that look face to face, it was having more of an effect than usual, and Akira was left frantically trying to cling to his cool.

“I have an idea, babe.” Ryuji said lowly and Akira’s mouth went dry. Hands bracketed Akira’s hips on the couch as his boyfriend crept closer. “Y’wanna hear it?” Akira nodded and felt heat flare across his skin when he realized Ryuji was keeping that hooded, heated gaze fixed firmly on his lips. “Since your folks ain’t supposed to be back before tomorrow afternoon,” Ryuji’s tone was as light as his body was heavy as he straddled Akira and looped strong arms around his neck, “I was thinkin’ maybe… we could…” Akira was desperately trying to focus on the words being whispered into his ear over his boyfriend kissing his way up his neck and leaving his skin prickling in the wake of every touch.

“Y-yeah?” He couldn’t help the nervous flutter in his stomach. If Ryuji was implying what he thought he was implying... They hadn’t done… that... yet. Even with the house to themselves all day, they hadn’t actually talked about it, in part because Akira hadn’t even thought about it seriously yet. That nervous flutter hadn’t subsided and was starting to feel a little more like an anxious lurch.

Ryuji continued, oblivious to his boyfriend’s nerves with his face tucked against his neck. “We could maybe…” Akira’s hands flexed involuntarily around Ryuji’s hips. He didn’t dislike the idea, just-- His unsteady train of thought was thrown off again when soft lips brushed over his ear. “...watch One Piece together?” After a beat where Akira was left blinking stupidly for several seconds, Ryuji sat back on his legs with a grin that had gone from sultry to shit-eating on a dime. Oh. Okay, he could handle that. “I gotta get you caught up to me, plus I wanna see how much we can get through in one sitting.”

“...you’re truly a romantic for the ages, sunshine,” Akira responded flatly as his heart rate slowly returned to normal. He was teasing back now, because honestly that idea sounded just as good as the picnic, with a lot less effort to set up.

“I know,” he answered confidently, but his smile slipped a little. “Is that a no? I just thought maybe I could buy us dinner from your shitty uncle, and we can cuddle while we take advantage of that big TV with the fancy sound system.” Ryuji gestured hopefully to the flatscreen behind them that was nearly as big as Akira’s bed back at Leblanc.

“Sounds good. Netflix and chill, it is,” Akira declared. When he caught the way Ryuji’s smile and shoulders tightened slightly, he added, “y’know, in the most literal sense.” It wasn’t as though he was happy to see Ryuji nervous, but when his boyfriend relaxed at the reassurance, he couldn’t help but feel relieved that the two of them were on the same page as far as that was concerned.

---

Aki hadn’t been kidding when he said his cousin would hook them up. There was probably double what they’d ordered plus desserts in the bags the guy handed off.

“So, you must be the boyfriend, huh? He talks about you a lot. Y’know, for him.” Yuuta asked as he leaned on the doorway. Ryuji just grinned, because yes, that was him, he was The Boyfriend. Akira’s boyfriend. Akira’s boyfriend. It’d been months and Ryuji still got all giddy about it like it was brand new. Yuuta interrupted his thoughts when he called out past Ryuji to where Akira was sitting and watching TV, “Man, talk about punching above your weight!” Ryuji blushed and opened his mouth to object before Akira could start bragging on how amazing Ryuji was.

Apparently Akira had other plans, because before he could, two sharp whistles rang out behind Ryuji and he reacted basically on instinct. It was the signal Akira had always used to mean duck or you’ll get hit in the Metaverse, and Ryuji’s knees buckled with almost no input from his brain. He had just enough time to worry if he’d spilled the food--thankfully he hadn’t--when one of the couch throw pillows whiffed past his head and nailed Yuuta in the face.

“ACK! The fuck, dude?! See if I give you free dessert again, jackass,” the guy yelled and hucked the pillow back--and missed, from the sound of Akira’s laughter. Ryuji straightened up with a grin as Yuuta turned to him. “How the hell did you two even do that?”

“We’re just cool like that, I guess.” Ryuji shrugged. No need to explain how many times he’d accidentally taken a Lucky Punch or whatever in the back of the head because he got signals mixed up. “Seriously though, thanks for hookin’ us up, dude.” He held up the food and then added a little more quietly, “and, uh, thanks for havin’ Aki’s back while he’s here. It’s easier to not worry if I know there’s at least someone here talkin’ to him besides that damn cat.” That got a snort of laughter out of the delivery guy.

“No problem? I’d say obviously, ‘cause he’s family, but… Well, I’m sure he told you. Our family kinda sucks sometimes.” He frowned, shook his head, then brightened back up. “Anyways, sweet of you to worry. He really did luck out when he found you, huh?” Yuuta said as he stepped back from the door.

Ryuji shook his head. “You got it backwards, man. I’m the lucky one.” He turned back to where his boyfriend was watching TV, now fully absorbed in the show even if he didn’t really look like it. Ryuji couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped him; he had his boyfriend again and he was going all in on one of Ryuji’s favorite things just because it was one of Ryuji’s favorite things, and it looked like he was actually enjoying it, too. When he turned back, Yuuta was halfway to his scooter, still loaded down with bags of food.

“You really believe that, huh?” He called back. “You keep that attitude, Sakamoto. Even when he’s bein’ a menace, alright? ‘Cause he’s a menace, but he’s my menace, and I’ll serve you up as dumplings if you hurt him!” The scooter rumbled to life and Yuuta added over the noise of the motor, “And you tell him the same thing. I like ya, so he’s gonna be the next lunch special if he’s an asshole to you!”

Ryuji waved in acknowledgment as he sped off, then closed the door and dropped the bag of takeout next to Akira. They paused the episode long enough to sort through the food; a double order of dumplings, pork miso for Akira, spicy vegetable ramen for Ryuji, ginger pork with rice that he was pretty sure they didn’t order at all, and half a goddamn cheesecake for them to split. It was an impressive spread that Akira was already calculating how much was going to be crammed into the fridge at the end of the night.

“Well. Anything we don’t finish tonight can go with us on the picnic?” He suggested as he started on his soup and turned the show back on. They hadn’t made it very far in just yet, and definitely had an uphill battle ahead of them.

Ryuji nodded, mouth already full of noodles. “Shoundsh good to me, dude.” Akira made a face at him like he always did when he talked around a mouth full of food, and Ryuji washed it down with some of the broth. “Family recipe?”

Akira hummed a confirmation around his own food, but paused to actually finish his bite. “Yup. Not as good as the place you took me, but I could just be biased.” Ryuji could hear the smirk in his voice that always cropped up when he was thinking about saying something sappy. Ryuji cut him off before he could, though. Butterflies wouldn’t leave much room in his stomach for ramen.

“I was thinkin’ the same thing. The Ogikubo thing, not the bias thing. Didn’t wanna offend, though.” Ryuji said and took another sizable bite. Even mediocre ramen was still pretty good in his opinion.

Akira chuckled. “Nah. Actually, the ramen there’s always been a little lackluster. I could’ve offered some advice to improve it once I got back, but now? Fuck that guy.”

Ryuji tried not to choke on his food with the laugh that threatened to escape. Scalding, spicy broth shooting out of your nose kinda sucked, especially if you got a noodle along with it. That was an experience he wasn’t keen on repeating. He swallowed down his bite and rasped, “could always pass it on to your cousin. He seems pretty cool when he ain’t threatenin’ to cook us.”

“Ah, you got the shovel talk, then--wait, us?” Akira nodded, but then froze partway and whipped his head around to Ryuji, who nodded in return after clearing his throat.

“Mhm. Said he likes me, ‘n if you break my heart you’re gonna be a lunch special,” Ryuji grinned.

“Asshole. He knows I can’t stand most of what’s in the rotation.” Akira grumbled and pouted into his soup. “What’d he threaten you with?”

“Dumplings.”

Akira’s eyebrows disappeared up into his bangs at that. “Damn, I think he likes you better than me. Uncle’s place is famous for its dumplings,” he explained as he picked the last bit of pork out of his bowl.

“I’m… honored? So is all your family this weird, or is it just you two?” Ryuji asked around another mouthful of noodles. The broth was definitely missing something, but the vegetables were pretty damn good; still pretty crisp but not undercooked. Good flavor on their own, prolly locally grown, too. “Also, how is a place in the middle of nowhere famous for anything?”

“Hey, we still have several other towns nearby, and folks will come here specifically for those dumplings. So you should be honored.” Akira huffed as he popped one of said dumplings in Ryuji’s mouth. Shit, it was pretty killer. Leagues better than his ramen. And of course his boyfriend looked as smug as Morgana when he caught the look on Ryuji’s face. “As for the weirdness? No idea. Around here it’s just me and Yuuta, but I don’t really know much about the ones that don’t live here. Might be because we’re in the middle of nowhere, might be because the ones who live here make a habit of cutting off any undesirables.” Aki shrugged and leaned up against Ryuji. “Maybe I’ll see if I can find any of them when I leave. I dunno.”

Ryuji leaned right back into him and planted a kiss against Aki’s temple, earning himself a pleased little hum from his boyfriend that he felt more than heard. “I’ll be right there with you if you do. I always got your back, babe.” Akira finished his soup and curled up against his side, tucked under one arm. It was nice, even if it meant now Ryuji had to figure out how to eat his ramen one-handed. Eh, he’d figure it out, it’s not like there was much left in the bowl anyway. “So, uh, earlier. You seemed a little tense when I was teasin’ you? And not like usual. I didn’t, like, push too much, did I?”

Akira had suddenly gone very still under his arm. Not the best sign.

“No. But, uh don’t take this the wrong way or anything, I was definitely glad you just wanted to watch One Piece with me. For a second there, I thought you wanted to…” He buried his face against Ryuji’s shoulder. God, his boyfriend was stupidly cute when he got all shy. “...y-y’know. Anyways, I was relieved when you seemed just as nervous about it? Not to be an asshole, but I’m kinda glad it isn’t just me who isn’t ready.”

“Right.” Well, that was that question out of the way, but now he’d paved the way for a new one that’d been rattling around in his head for a while now. God, best case scenario, Akira was probably gonna laugh in his face. Him? Ryuji Sakamoto, of all people, not interested in that? “What if…” He hesitated and tried again. “Well, how long would you be okay with that?”

“What do you mean?” Akira tipped his head up to look Ryuji in the eye. That really didn’t help things, ‘cause even on a good day Ryuji tended to feel small when Akira looked at him like that.

“Like…” Ryuji took a deep breath and steeled himself. “WhatifI’mneverready?” His stomach clenched. There it was, he’d finally said it. Years of wondering if his friends were just exaggerating what they wanted to do with the girls in their class; months of internet research and arguing with himself even when it was the only answer that made sense and trying to backtrack or minimize it with ‘well maybe I’m only kinda like that, maybe I’m that demi thing, maybe I’ll find someone’ to try and soften the blow; a whole year of slowly coming to the realization that that just wasn’t something on the table for him, no matter how attractive Ann was or how close him and Akira got, he just wasn’t wired for wanting that kind of thing, even if he wanted the rest of the sappy, romantic couple shit for as long as he could get it, ideally the rest of his life. All of that had built up to one rushed confession that could make this trip out to the country really effin’ miserable when he still had four more days of crashing at his boyfriend’s place.

“Didn’t... quite catch that?” Akira said after a moment of trying to process what Ryuji had just blurted out. Goddammit. Of course he didn’t.

Ryuji took a deep breath and tried again. “What if… I’m never ready for that? Would that be a dealbreaker?” His heart was hammering as he forced the words out a little more slowly this time. And Akira already looked annoyed. Shit. Shit. He couldn’t look him in the eye and instead stared down at his feet, trying desperately to swallow the queasy feeling in his stomach that threatened to bounce his lunch back up onto the floor in front of him. Ryuji opened his mouth to backpedal, to assure him that if he really wanted to then Ryuji would try for him even if the idea was kind of completely terrifying--

“Of course not!” The sharpness of his tone was what registered first and Ryuji was already braced for a breakup when the words actually hit him. It wasn’t a dealbreaker. It was okay. They were okay. They were... actually okay?

“Wh-- forreal?” Ryuji’s voice cracked embarrassingly and Akira shifted against him, one hand coming up to his chin to make him look at him.

“I already told you, you’re my hero. You…” Akira opened and closed his mouth a few times, like he was looking for the right words and couldn’t find them. One hand cupped Ryuji’s jaw and ran a calloused thumb across his cheek, and Ryuji couldn’t help but press into the touch. “You’re everything to me. I could write books on all the things that make you amazing; your compassion, your kindness, your loyalty, your smile, all of it. So what if we never…” Akira blushed a little, but he seemed determined to power through the embarrassment. “So what if we never have sex? What do I care? I love you, Ryuji Sakamoto, I’m not giving up my sunshine, the best thing that ever happened to me, for anything.”

Ryuji swallowed hard around the lump forming in his throat and buried his face against Akira’s neck. Even away from Leblanc, he still smelled like coffee and curry, still smelled like home. Akira had called it home too, and had told him once that he made Boss’ recipes whenever he was homesick for the cafe, or his team, or… Or for Ryuji. Ryuji wanted to believe him so badly. “It’s easy to say that when you still ain’t ready for it, but--”

“I won’t change my mind,” he insisted so vehemently that no part of Ryuji could even think of an argument. Even the part of him that had been certain for months that even admitting he was asexual to himself would ruin everything. “It’s not like I can’t take care of things myself. And that just means more time for everything else.” Akira paused and pressed a kiss to Ryuji’s forehead. “More time to cook your favorite foods,” kiss, “more time to cuddle,” kiss, “more time to watch our favorite shows, all of it.” Akira dropped one last kiss on his temple and went back to running his fingers through Ryuji’s hair. Then he added, almost too quietly to hear, “for the rest of our lives if you’ll let me.” Let him? He’d fuckin’ beg him if he had to.

“Babe, you’re gonna make me cry,” Ryuji said thickly, as if they couldn’t both feel the wet spots forming on Akira’s shirt from where tears were already streaming down his face. Part of him was still scared he wasn’t going to be enough, and it probably always would be for one reason or another. But for now it was easy to relax into his boyfriend’s embrace and trust that he planned on sticking around a little longer.

Akira kept playing with Ryuji's hair the way he knew he loved and wrapped his other arm tightly around him. He pressed a few more kisses to the top of Ryuji’s head and then asked, “do you need me to stop?” Ryuji shook his head and got another kiss. “Alright. Take all the time you need, sunshine.”

“Thanks, babe.”

“We’re gonna need to restart the episode after, though.”

#persona 5 #pegoryu #pegoryu week 2021 #my writing #had the idea for ace ryuji halfway through this prompt and couldn't resist giving favorite characters the tenderness I have yet to find #so if you clown here I will physically fight you

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justanotherghostwriter · 3 years

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Melting Pot AU you have me so hooked

=D You really are going to give me a huge ego. I'm going to expect to be able to talk forever and ever about every silly fic concept from now on because I've been spoiled.

Okay so I'm tagging @lizanthium because she was the catalyst and... insert other clever chemistry metaphors here for this fic. If you want the full version - literally the planning unfolding from her planting the seed to us screaming ideas at each other in slightly confusing order because we were both replying to comments at the same time so they disjointed in places lmao - then go to the notes of this post. (Warning: there are over 100 notes. You're going to be scrolling. xD)

The slightly more chronological and sanitised version is this: Aang wasn't woken from the iceberg when he was. Instead, on the Day of Black Sun, the rest of the world banded together and just about razed the Fire Nation to the ground. Ozai is dead, Azula in prison, and every Fire Nation citizen who survived is a refugee somewhere. Those who can pass as other nations do so. Those who cannot are treated like absolute dirt. In a twist of irony so great it's almost funny, Zuko and Iroh were saved from the decimation because Zuko had been banished three years ago. Nyeh, Ozai. See what your petty cruelty did.

Anyway. Hakoda was one of the big generals in the Day of Black Sun, and so he got all the war prizes and got asked to be a part of the Ba Sing Se council. Since they only just learned about the war so. They need help. And, since the Earth kings are now just about ruling the world, Hakoda agrees to move his whole family to Ba Sing Se's upper ring society. On their last fishing trip before moving, Katara and Sokka get into an argument and crack goes the iceberg. Out pops the Avatar, now with far fewer responsibilities but extra trauma because... uh... that's... that's two decimations of nations he missed and could have stopped. :')

Katara hates upper class life because of how restrictive it is. And her new friend, Toph's, way of letting off steam isn't fully helping. One day, she finds this quaint little teashop called The Jasmine Dragon. The owner, Mushi, is very kind. And lets Katara make suggestions for SWT food. But she's not allowed to make it. Or work there. Ba Sing Se rules. So Katara figures the only way out of her stifling life is to marry Mushi's nephew, Lee. She doesn't like the surly man, at all, but he is also looking for a marriage of convenience because he wants to rub shoulders with politicians and generals, for a reason he won't tell her and she doesn't want to hear, really.

And so Katara and Lee get married, and she moves into the Jasmine Dragon and... both of them get a lot more than they bargained for... :P

I've called it "The Melting Pot AU" because it has elements of (so far) MixedVeg (a Manga Liz introduced me to), Anastasia, Hercules, Pocahontas and Miraculous Ladybug. As you can see, it's terribly similar to the University MOC AU, but with so much more potential for deep character study and the lot. Especially between Aang and Zuko. Liz is great. =D

#Askbox answers #About my Writing #The Melting Pot Au

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katherinewilliams221b · 4 years

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Gonna shoot some questions right back at you 🖤 For the fanfic ask - 3, 9 (AND 18+19) bc I'm always fascinatied with all those gems sitting on the disc like that xd And also 12, 13, 24 and 25. Sorry for the number but I am a curious creature 🤡

3. Favourite line/scene you wrote this year

a) “I’m always on your side, you’re my best friend!” “Then why are you bein' such a scutterin' gobshite!?”

b) “To family, blood or not. To the ones we love and love us back, to the ones we lost but will always be in our hearts. And to the holidays, that give us the opportunity to be together once again.”

9. longest wip of the year

The Datura stramonium series. I have mixed feelings with that. Something that makes the inspiration fluids flow is reading the books. I like putting mc’s life in parts of the Harry Potter series that are not mentioned or vague, maybe some plot holes that I can fix (a little bit arrogant for my part but). I started writing when I was reading the Goblet of Fire, and I thought ‘What if mc was in the Quidditch World Cup but wasn’t mentioned in the books because she wasn’t with Harry?’. The thing with Datura stramonium is that the story has no relation to the Harry Potter books, it’s completely independent and I don’t know what to do with it. There are no restrictions because I can do whatever I want with the characters because they are ocs. And that blocks me in a way. I wasn’t enjoying it anymore and I put it on hold. I intend to finish it next year; I have an outline, a purpose and I know how I want it to end, I just need some time to figure things out and decide how Kate’s going from point A to point B without being boring or tedious.

12. favourite character to write about this year

I knew from the start that Kate must have had a complicated family history, when I used to play HogsMyst, I noticed that mc’s parents where hardly mentioned. I didn’t want Kate to have horrible parents that hate their daughter and that she blames them for everything. I didn’t want that kind of drama. To solve this, the logical solution was that they were really invested in jobs that were of international business (making them travel a lot, and generally being absent). I didn’t want to make Kate a loner either, she needed a relative completely opposite to her parents. And Bernard Walsh happened. A grandfather/mother as a role model was perfect. His personality and backstory came to me so naturally, it felt right. I also wanted to create a cool grandmother as well, but it was then when I added the drama factor: it’s only natural to lose the people we love, and that would make it more realistic.

Bernard is such a wonderful man, I am for sure going to write more about him.

13. favourite writing song/artist/album of this year

I started to make a Kate/Charlie playlist, not of their lives only, just songs that reminded me of them. Here’s a few:

I Bet My Life – Imagine Dragons

Like Gold – Vance Joy

Fiddlers Green – The Kilkennys

This Afternoon – Nickelback

Hail Rain or Sunshine – The Script

Oh, What a Life – American Authors

The Story of Tonight – We The Kings version

Thank God For Ireland – Tyrone Wells (THIS ONE REPRESENTS EXACTLY HOW I IMAGINE WHAT CHARLIE THINKS ABOUT KATE LIKE IT’S JUST PERFECT IM FANGIRLING RN)

Memories – Maroon 5

Simple Life – Young Rising Sons

18. current number of wips

So, we have Datura, and all the random pieces, scenes, dialogues I haven’t written because I don’t know what to do with them. I also have a secret document that someday will see the light of day, when it’s long enough, of a compilation of moments that I cut out from fics because I didn’t want to make them too cheesy).

19. any new fics to start next year

Okay, *cracks knuckles*, since I am currently reading the Order of Phoenix the majority of the fics are going to be “mission oriented” (because of what I explained in point 9). This is the forecast:

- Finishing Datura series

- Missions for the Order: a dangerous trip to Albania and also a mini series about a mission in Drumstrang school (I want to explore first person POV again because I enjoyed it tremendously).

- I also want to explore the time when Charlie went to Romania. I want to discuss how they felt, how they coped with a long-distance relationship, what were the challenges there etc. Also changing the format, maybe through letters or mixing POVS, 2020 is going to be a year of practising different styles for me. So yeah, a few fluffy pieces are in the horizon.

That’s the plan. If I get creative and write other things so be it, and if I get frustrated and I end up not writing, that’s okay too.

24. favourite fic you read this year and 25. a fic you read this year you would recommend.

I read a lot of magnificent fics this year, there’s a lot of talent out there and that is amazing to me. I will always, always recommend At All Cost series by @ardentmuse. That fic is exquisite; the way its written, the plot, her Charlie… that’s the fic that inspired me to start writing.

Thank you @eldritchscreech for being always there, commeting and tagging me in fun picrews to make. You are amazing and you have no idea how much I appreciate your support <3

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atruththatyoudeny · 5 years

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Happy 1D Fanworks Appreciation Day!

I want to thank all the amazing authors and artists who make this fandom as special as it is.

Here are all the fics I read and loved this month: (this is going to be looong)

I don't want a taste (I want it all) || thedaggerrose (blessedfetish) || "Fuck me yourself you coward" AU - college - crack - humour - 3k

The AU where Harry tells Louis to go fuck himself, Louis tells Harry to fuck him himself, and Harry follows through.

Always || JamieJam93 || amnesia - references of past depression - 85k

Thousands, if not millions, of fans had been right. Harry and Louis had been in love and together for four whole years. They were 'the dream team'; the couple that made others sick while simultaneously envious.

But thousands of fans had been right about something else too. The pressure had been too much. The fame had been too much. The closet had been too much, and, four years after the pair swore to each other that nothing could break them on the night of their first kiss in 2010, they broke up.

Fast forward to 2018, on the night of One Direction's last ever concert, and Harry has yet to move on. It's not as sad as it seems-he still lives his life and, for the most part, he's happy-but he knows that Louis was his one true love and is trying to prepare himself for a life completely without the other when an accident erases Louis's mind of all of his memories. In reliving the moments with him, trying to make him remember, Harry comes to find that maybe he never really forgot them at all and maybe, like him, he hadn't moved on either.

Enjoy The Ride || 2tiedships2 || a/b/o - strangers to lovers - road trips - fluff - 11k

The one where Louis, an omega more than tired of being treated as lesser than alphas, is forced on a road trip by his beta besties only to meet Harry who might just be the alpha he never knew he wanted.

Whisper The Wind || jacaranda_bloom || strangers to lovers - surfing - fluff - 36k

The one where Louis rides an elevator that may change his life forever, Harry loves the ocean but is a terrible surfer, Liam proves not all heroes wear capes, and Niall might actually have all the answers.

A kiss to build a dream on || noellehenry || Christmas - social media - pining - 17k

Harry has a brief encounter with a handsome stranger at the local Christmas Fair, the romantic kiss they share changes everything.

Harry is determined to find his Prince Charming and sets up a tumblr blog with help from his best friend Niall, owner of the locally famous Steamin' mugs.

Let the challenge begin!

Enter the Rose Garden || angelichl || a/b/o - friends to lovers - 10k

Soft heats make omega Louis clingy. Enter alpha Harry.

I been feeling high when I touch your body || Anonymous || gym - boxing- 17k

Harry is a boxer, Louis is an architect and Liam is the worst cupid that could ever exist.

The Pink Ghost of Princess Park || objectlesson || PWP - humour - sex toys - established relationship - light dom/sub - 7k

The thought of the vibrator does not go away. It’s sitting there collecting dust all through January, and every time Harry and Louis have to leave town for a press event or a show or to record or what have you, they come back home, and it’s still there, the Pink Ghost of Princess Park, the fucking glittery haunting that Harry cannot stop thinking of Louis stuffing up his arse.

Leave Your Mark On Me || FullOnLarrie || a/b/o - restaurant - mating bond - friends with benefits - enemies to friends to lovers - 32k

When Chef Harry Styles’ unbonded Omega designation threatens to derail his career, he does the only thing he can, and goes in search of a black market bond.

You Can't Change The Rolling Tide || LiveLaughLoveLarry || sailing - enemies to friends to lovers - childhood friends - friends to lovers - 25k

Louis lives on a tiny island off the coast of England and runs a sailboat touring company. When Niall is sidelined for the summer after his knee surgery, Louis needs a temporary new partner. Who better to fill that role than Harry, recently returned to the island after five years away? Louis is pretty sure there are plenty of better options. They don't get along until they do.

Take Care Down By The Water || shyserious || fantasy - magical realism - celtic mythology - fluff - angst - 37k

Louis has spent his summers at his Granny's in the Isle of Barra for almost as long as he could remember.

This summer wasn't supposed to be any different, but the little Scottish island turned out to be harbouring more than just the gorgeous white beaches, the clear waters, and the town drunk scaremongering the foreign tourists.

Pray Till I Go Blind || el_em_en_oh_pee || religion - religion kink - demon - homophobia - blasphemy - 19k

Louis is (kind of) a preacher. Harry is (probably) a demon. Of course, nothing's as simple as that.

This is not a love story.

Nocturne || rosegoldhl || fairy tale - fantasy - action/adventure - pining - 36k

Harry is a goblin living in the woods, entirely enthralled with a human named Louis.

I'm still learning to love || literato || minor character death - kid fic - pining - fluff - light angst - 74k

An au where Harry has almost everything in the world except for the will to move on.

Tell Me Your Secrets || dimpled_halo || For A Good Time Call AU - enemies to friends to lovers - dirty talk - phone sex - humour - fluff - angst - 17k

A For a Good Time Call au where Harry and Louis get off on the wrong foot when they first meet. When dire circumstances forces them to become roommates, Harry finds out some things about Louis that he doesn't expect will help him discover some things about himself.

We come in line || starsinoureyes || The Switch AU - mpreg - fertility clinic - 19k

Harry decides to have a baby on his own, Louis doesn't agree it's a good idea but lets him do it anyway. It took seven years and Harry getting artificially inseminated for them to find each other. Louis has a secret he didn't tell Harry and it might affect their family. Also featuring: a pre-pregnancy party, fertility clinics and pregnancy scares.

Sugar, butter, flour || EmmyLouWho || Nailed it! (TV) Fusion - reality tv - pining - 5k

Louis watches Harry start to pour icing onto his half-raw, still hot cookie, and tries to hold in his groan. He isn't sure if they’ve ever had a contestant on the show who tried so hard…and yet completely failed at every single step.

You can’t rig the show to help a contestant, he tells himself. Even if they’re adorable.

dopamine || Only_angel_28 || collge/university - meet-cute - social experiments - fluff - strangers to lovers - 7k

Louis honestly doesn’t know how he gets himself into these types of situations.

Well, actually, that’s a lie. He’s doing this because he needs the money, and because he’s curious. And, okay, maybe because he might be a little bit lonely too. He has always had what his mother affectionately calls an “adventurous spirit.” Couple that with being a (tragically single) broke grad student and voila! here he is scrawling his signature on a release form provided by the university’s sociology department. Essentially, he is agreeing to snog a stranger on camera for the sake of science.

Shouldn’t be a problem, right? All he has to do is lock lips with a (hopefully) fit bloke, collect his money, and be on his way. Easy peasy. Little does he know, fate has other plans for him in the form of one adorably quirky art student who goes by the name of Harry Styles.

Best kind of bad something || wildestdreams || established relationship - angst - fluff - ambiguous/ open ending 40- k

A NorCal AU where Louis is the town troublemaker and everyone hates him except for Harry.

What, like it's hard? || starkidpatronus || Legally Blond Fusion - girl direction - enemies to friends to lovers - enemies to lovers - humour - fluff - 25k

In which Harry goes to law school to win back her man, but gets a lot more than she bargained for.

Tell Me This Is Paradise || QuickedWeen || girl direction - smut - 5k

Harry Styles has been lucky in love but unlucky in the bedroom with all of her previous boyfriends. When her best friend Niall finds out that she's never had an orgasm, she knows just what Harry needs: Louis Tomlinson. Niall sets Harry up to get sorted out.

Your rainbow will come smiling through || hazkaban || Cinderella Story AU - minor character death - bullying - fairy tale retelling - 17k

When harry isn't working at his stepfather's cafe, he's trying to make swim captain and trying to finish all his coursework on time. when he's not doing any of those things, he's talking to the boy he met on the oxford hopefuls subreddit. when they decide to meet, he's elated. he finally gets the chance to meet the boy he's been crushing on! when the day comes to meet his prince, he learns that his online crush is none other than louis tomlinson, captain of the football team and friend of his terrible stepbrothers. now harry has to decide whether telling louis the truth is the right choice or if it's better to just let sleeping dogs lie.

From, your secret admirer || flicker_album || secret admirer - Valentine's Day - tumblr - mentions of anxiety - 13k

The one where Louis is Harry's Tumblr crush so he sends him secret admirer messages for Valentine's Day

Every Story Has Its Scars, Ours Is a Brand New Start || Rearviewdreamer || strangers to lovers - hurt/comfort - domestic violence - angst - dubious consent - implied mpreg - kid fic - 62k

Life as a devoted husband and an amazing father turned out to be a little different than Louis had expected. Everyone tells him it doesn't have to be that way; that he's worth more and that he's so much stronger than any one person trying to keep him down. It's all just words though until he meets the one person who makes him truly believe it.

The Pain Is For Pleasure || lovelarry10 || BDSM - established relationship - 67k

Louis and Harry have been together for a few months. Everything is great, but there’s one question burning in the back of Louis' mind - why won’t Harry have sex with him?

I Just Wanna Get Back to Us || louiesunshine || soulmate-identifying marks - angst - post-divorce - exes to friends to lovers - mutual pining - getting back together - slow burn - 62k

Or, where Harry and Louis are divorced soulmates who are seeing each other for the first time in two years.

Soup Of The Day || jacaranda_bloom || strangers to lovers - minor injury - hurt/comfort - 20k

The Restaurant AU where Louis and Niall are chefs, Chicago is windy, and cracking the big time is harder than they ever imagined. But when a mysterious man starts grading Louis' soups by leaving little piles of rocks, could it be just the thing they need to get them on the road to success?

Bleeding Love || momentofclarity || girl direction - enemies to lovers - famous/non-famous - 27k

Louis is an animal rights activist who throws red paint at fur coat wearing it-girl Harry Styles. Then there's a crack in the surface and something new starts bleeding through.

Oh, Darling My Heart's On Fire (For You) || aiienharry || girl direction - fluff - angst - 33k

Two girls fall in love on a road trip that was supposed to last a week and a half, but it ends up feeling like a lifetime.

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This || MrsStylinson || fake/pretend relationship - escort - angst - heartbreak - fluff - friends to lovers - 30k

Loosely based on The Wedding Date. Inspired by 27 Dresses. Basically, Fake Boyfriend AU with a twist. Louis' sister is unknowingly getting married to the ex who broke his heart. When faced with the prospect of turning up alone, Louis panics and hires a corporate escort named Harry. General chaos and epic jealousy ensues.

#28th appreciation #1d fanworks appreciation day #fic rec #my reads #my fic rec #monthly reads #1d fanfiction #larry fics

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katerinafeddy-blog · 5 years

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Nothing Else Matters {Ilya Fedorovich}

Summary: Inspired by Kid Cudi's song "In my dreams". The reader is a part of the vlog squad and used to go to Vernon Hills with David and Ilya.

Note: So this is my first fic here, I've been trying to get a fic done for the past three years lmao. I hope you love this, enjoy xoxo

Attraction is the pull you feel with someone, the need to pay attention to the one that strikes out the most in the room when it's crowded. Think of it as being in a house party. A house party packed with people. Some are dancing, some are drinking and some are having the time of their lives with their friends. And you are also there with your friends having your time of your life. And then a cute stranger passes you and you can't seem to get them out of your mind.

In your case it wasn't a simple stranger. Nor a house party. Nor just an attraction you were feeling.

"You should have said yes to Jim instead of sitting here looking miserable as hell" Dima reported as he sat right next to you handing you a classic red cup filled with beer.

"You are also alone" Being alone at prom is one thing but not being with the person you want to is another.

"Fair enough" Nodding at Dima you let your gaze fall against Ilya again, dancing with his prom date. It would be a dream to be the one in his arms instead of Lauren. A dream... Letting out a deep sigh you took a sip out of your beer and tried to ease your pounding headache "I'm sorry... He didn't tell me he was going to ask...her. Everyone believed it was going to be you"

"Why?" You asked, your gaze now meeting Dima's eyes.

"Because I've never seen two people look at each other the way you two do"

I can think of anything that I've ever needed

School was finished but after prom night, Ilya and Lauren started dating. You wished to go on a trip like you did every summer with him, the boys and Natalie but Lauren had other plans. She did want to go on vacation but she only wanted to go with him alone. She also had a rude way of showing it but of course not in front of Ilya.

"Lauren, every summer we go on a camping trip for a couple of days with the whole squad, you should definitely come along this year!" Natalie requested kindly at her friend's girlfriend but the look on Laurens face was the epitome of mean.

"Me and Ilya are going alone." She replied, her expression remaining the exact same "Period"

"Okay then sure" David pondered poking your shoulder to get a reaction. You shook your head at him and decided to speak up when Alex cut you off.

"Are you sure? It's going to be really fun, we do that every year. We have bonfires, drinks, late night dives-"

"Oh my god what didn't you get, I literally just told you people that I want me and Ilya to go alone. If I wanted you people around me and my boyfriend I would tell you. You may be his friend but you are definitely not mine so stop" She snapped earning a sincere death glare from you. Lauren really had a big mouth. Ever since she was a kid actually and you would gladly put her in her place if Ilya hadn't entered the room.

And as you saw them sitting at David's porch, her on his lap you couldn't help but wonder; could you ever have that with him? Could you ever be able to show your love to him? To get what it feels like to be in his arms? Because you did deserve it according to Natalie. According to everyone. More than Lauren.

It was only when you slept you could truly get a tiny little peak of what it felt like being his. Your dreams were full of his face, full of his voice, his presence, his touch. However they were only just dreams.

Right here in my dreams everything is a-okay I don't worry about anything cause everyday's sunny.

It was 4am of the fifth of July when you received a call from someone you had not expected to call you such late at night. Ilya's name flashed in your screen when you checked the callers ID.

"Y/N/N?"

"Ilya oh my god it's 4am is everything alright?" You questioned flicking the light of the bedside lamp open. Five months ago it would have been normal for him to call you such late but ever since he got a girlfriend it had never occurred.

"I broke up with Lauren" He explained. To be honest it's not like you were going to be sad about it. Lauren had a reputation and she annoying and repulsive. It was no surprise this would happen.

"Oh my god Ilya I'm so sorry..." You pretended. Even though you were happy they broke up, seeing him sad over her would kill you. He deserved someone to love him. "What happened?"

"She said something about you" He took a deep breath and paused. He didn't sound exactly sad, more like frustrated "I realized she was just a bitch. To you and the rest of our friends. Dima also told me about the incident with the camping a couple of days ago. She called you a slut and I swear to god Y/N I had never been this angry my whole life."

" Oh Ilya..." After this you didn't really know what to say. He had been angry at his girlfriend calling you a slut. It sparked a little hope in you but you decided to bottle it up so he could tell you what else happened.

"She also cheated on me." Out of everything this is what angered you the most. This girl really didn't know what the hell she had. You would literally kill for Ilya and her random ass cheated on him? No man was worth cheating over Ilya with.

" What the fuck? SHE cheated on YOU?" You exclaimed putting emphasis on 'She' and 'You'. "This bitch is literally blind Ilya, I swear I'm going to punch her"

He chuckled softly into the phone. Ilya always knew that when you were angry you were acting physical. You always said you were going to hit someone but in reality you'd never even hurt a fly.

"I don't want to talk about her anymore. It isn't worth it" He stated. "I missed you"

"I missed you too Ilya"

You're in my dreams now

Two years later

Life had been really good the past two years. Your career took off and now you were a famous youtuber and a part of David Dobrik's, you childhood friend's vlog squad. Everything was going smoothly and no tragic event had occurred to shake things up.

Currently you were with David, Ilya and Dima in Ilyas company, sitting in his office. It had been a rainy day and you and David were back from LA for a couple of days so you had decided on visiting Ilya and Dima. You missed both of them a lot even though you would see them every other week since you were now able to travel from California to Illinois easily.

"Okay so, you mean to tell me you haven't hooked up with a girl ever since you broke things off with Lauren?" David questioned Ilya as he scoffed. Dima was amused and was ready to crack a joke but Ilya wouldn't let him have it.

"I just don't wanna sleep around with anyone and everyone. Besides I've got someone in mind for a long time" Even though Ilya muttered the last part, it didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the room. Both Dima's and David's heads snapped towards Ilya and they gave him smug smiles.

"And who could the lucky lady be?" You asked with a smile plastered on your face. In your dreams it would be you. You would be the one to be on his mind for this time he mentioned. Yet it would be cliché if he replied 'You'.

" You know her really well. Really really well. Like ever since you can remember yourself"

This is a dream come true, finding the perfect words to sing to you

"You look so beautiful Y/N" Ilya admitted looking at you with such love in his eyes, such admiration. His eyes held the kind of sparkle you see a little kid have when you give them a present for their birthday. Looking back at him, you realized he was more admirable than you ever knew.

A blush crept up to your cheeks as you smiled at him "I really don't but thank you.."

"You've always been the most beautiful woman I've seen. Don't doubt that." It was something about his words that brought tears to your eyes. He of course noticed and wiped them away with his fingers. "Why are you crying?"

"I just didn't expect that, I'm sorry"

"God Y/N/N" He said pulling you into a hug "You are the most beautiful, drunk companion I could ever ask for. Thank you for taking away the vodka when I have too much" Odd words, having nothing to do with what you were talking about but it's what made them special.

"I'm just doing that so I can drink it myself" You whispered into his chest earning a laugh from him "Remember New years eve at the Antonyan's house when you did shots with Dima?"

"Yeah why?"

"I changed your shots with sprite so you would win"

"I think I figured, you were obviously drunk and David told me so" The sound of the door opening made you separate from him, much to your disliking . Todd entered the room and winked at you and Ilya.

"Aw I'm sorry, I'll leave you two lovebirds to continue your make out sess-"

"TODD WE ARE NOT-"

"Whatever sweetheart" He sing-sang before exiting the room making kissing noises.

"Everyone thinks we are dating"

"We are definitely the best non-dating couple in the vlog squad"

"Yes" You marvelled "Yes we are"

Here in my dreams everything turns out dope

Leaving the party was probably the best decision you could take at that moment. It's not that you were too drunk, far from it actually. Partying two nights straight was exhausting even at 22. The loud music was intensifying the pounding in your head and the crowd dancing made you feel a different kind of exhaust.

Ilya felt the same way. He was currently dragging you in your room in David's house. Letting your hand go wouldn't harm nobody nor would you get lost. He just felt safer having you close in a sea full of intoxicated men. Pulling you into the room, he locked the door behind so no drunken couples could ruin your night by making out vigorously in front of you.

"Who's idea was it to have a party tonight out of all days? It's not like we got wasted and got up with killer hungover this morning, we'd have to go through it again tomorrow." You complained throwing yourself in your bed right next Ilya "I've taken so much Advil today I don't think I'll be able to feel pain for a good 10 days total"

" They should hire you to advertise their medicine, I've never seen anyone be so passionate about Advil" He joked and you got up from the bed "Where are you going?"

"I bought neon lights yesterday and I want to try them out. They were like 50$ and I've seen them on Kelsey's room, in pink but I bought them in red" You rambled, looking through the walk-in closet for the box "Found it!"

A good ten minutes after trying to set them up, Ilya decided to look through the instructions and finally you were able to switch them on. The illuminating red vibrant light was mesmerizing. The atmosphere around you had changed completely.

Still with your back facing him as you looked for a charger in your nightstand you carried on conversation. Conversation about love and feelings and soul mates. You knew he was yours.

Turning around to face Ilya you realized he was closer than ever.

The world around you stopped. In this planet its only you and him staring into each other's eyes, and Alex Turner's voice singing I wanna be yours in the background. Your heart was beating in your chest and you were sure he could hear it loud and clear.

The pull between the two of you was undeniable. The tension could be cut with a knife. You felt his breath mingling with yours, he was that close. Your ran your hand up his chest, neck and finally settled on his jaw and then he coudlnt take it no more.

And he's kissing you. Once, twice until you both finally have a taste of each other after years of unspoken feelings and you realize you could never have enough. He's everywhere. Everything is Ilya. He is up your back and over your arms and suddenly he is kissing you harder, deeper with a fervent urgent need you've never known before. The sweetest kind of pain.

His hands travel down you waist to the back of your thighs and he draws you closer, until you are straddling him. And yet he doesn't stop. How could he anyways. Your legs are on either side of his hips and you physically can't get any closer. He loves you and you love him. At this moment no words were in need. You don't need air, you are breathing him. He is giving you life.

And suddenly, everything else is gone, forgotten in the past.

Suddenly Lauren doesn't exist anymore.

And you are not crying in your bedroom over one-sided love.

And none of your friends tease you over your crush.

Because right now Ilya is making love to you with his kisses. His praises to you. His 'I love you's.

And nothing else matters.

#ilya feddy #ilya fedorovich #ilya fedorovich x reader #ilya fedorovich imagine #ilya feddy x reader #ilya feddy imagine #david dobrik #vlog squad #reader #reader insert #vlog squad imagines

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lovelylogans · 6 years

Note

Could you do "I'm sorry I got way too into playing house" for the weird sentences prompts? 😁

ao3 | other fics on tumblr

warnings: mentions of past animal abuse, mentions of dog killing other small animals (birds and rodentia), some vague anxiety stuff

pairings: platonic lamp, gen

words: 2,203

notes: sure thing! i am also shoehorning this in as a sequel to this previous prompt fic of mine in which the sides adopt a tripod pitbull puppy, so, like, Dog Content™

The puppy’s name, once they came up with it, was just too perfect, really.

“Croft,” Roman cooed, and Croft lifted his head from where he’d been napping on Virgil’s lap. “Crofty, honey, come to papa, I’ve got a new toy!”

Croft snuffled a little, settling his big, meaty head back on Virgil’s nap and staring at Roman with doleful eyes.

Roman sighed at him. “You’re the laziest puppy I’ve ever met,” he said, lowering the toy he’d been squeaking.

“Did you not hear him doing laps in the hallway at three in the morning?” Logan asked, from where he was absentmindedly running his hand up and down Croft’s back. “The dog is nocturnal.”

“Wonder where he gets that from,” Patton said, and shot a Look to all three of his roommates, as if to truly underline how horrible they were at following Logan’s advice, even Logan himself.

Logan’s original name idea was Crofter’s Premium Spread Logan’s Berry Organic Jam, potentially shortened to CPSLBOJ, which was understandably shot down by everyone in the room. Roman’s next proposal was Crofter’s, to which Virgil said they weren’t naming the dog after a fucking jam brand, and Patton proposed the mediation of Croft: so they could say he’d been named after the jam brand or after Lara Croft from the Tomb Raider franchise.

So Croft had immediately been given a Croft collar tag with all of their phone numbers on it, a custom jam jar toy Roman had commissioned from someone on Etsy that Croft rarely touched, and a fluffy Lara Croft toy that was tucked up by his dog bed that he also rarely touched.

Croft was currently pretty small, since he was still a puppy; according to the vet, he’d probably top out around 80 or 90 pounds. But right now he just had really big ears, a very long tail, and three massive paws that he tripped over pretty often.

Virgil scratched absently behind Croft’s ears, and Croft let out a sort of grumbly happy noise; he was a talkative kind of dog, with a lot of sighs and grumbling and soft little barks they all unanimously called boofs.

He also had the tendency to arororowowow! at them whenever they all left him for a period of time, leaping up on them, eager to be pet, which Logan was trying to train him out of, because whenever he leapt up he didn’t exactly have two stable paws to land on when he came back down.

It wasn’t like they all left him all at once very often; really mostly whenever they went out to dinner. Their schedules were different enough that most of the time one of them was home to take Croft out when he needed it and work on basic training with Croft. He was a smart little guy, and very food-and-affection motivated, so Croft had down the basic sit, shake, lay down thing; they were still working on roll over and heel. And stay; he’d get so excited to follow after wherever they were walking off to, he’d gambol right after them, tail wagging excitedly.

Croft had been living with them for less than a month, but he’d managed to capture all of their hearts basically immediately.

Roman had, in fact, immediately recreated Rosa’s I’ve only had Arlo for a day and a half but if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in the room and then myself from Brooklyn 99, with all of them. All four were on their various social medias to announce that they’d gotten a dog, and also printed out and framed in the living room.

It was odd, to look at the photo and Croft now; he’d already grown so much in the month they’d had him.

Croft had his problems too; potty-training was an ongoing battle. He couldn’t handle other dogs, and either got aggressive or whimpering and frightened whenever he saw them, so they always walked him early in the morning, when there wouldn’t be other dogs around. He was a menace to most small rodentia and birds; he’d already killed three robins, a mouse, and had grievously injured a possum.

But he was such a cuddly, eager boy—any difficulties were well worth it.

“Fatherhood has changed me,” Roman had declared once, which—well. Kinda, yeah.

Once they started parting ways, Croft picked his head up from Virgil’s lap, following after them; he slept in their beds, because they were all softies. Croft tended to alternate between all of them, moving from room to room throughout the night. They’d all learned to either sleep through a dog hopping on their bed, or to sleepily roll over, give him a clumsy pat, and go right back to sleep.

Croft was also a bed hog, so it was a bit of a struggle to actually get in bed once he was there; a lot of the time, they had to lift him, set him aside, and quickly lay down under the covers before Croft could decide he wanted to take over their pillows or the center of the bed.

Once Logan came back to his room, ready to curl up in bed, he was unsurprised to see Croft already sprawled wide across the bed.

“Croft, move, you know the drill,” Logan said, shoving him to the other side of the bed and promptly sliding under the covers, turning off the lamp, sending them into darkness; there was the familiar press of Croft’s cold nose as he situated himself, pressing as close as he could get to Logan.

Logan wrapped an arm around him, sleepy, and pressed his nose against Croft’s back, inhaling his doggish scent. He loved this dog, to a degree he’d never actually admit out loud.

“Good boy,” Logan whispered, and Croft let out a sleepy little sigh.

Roman woke up to a tongue on his face.

Roman squinted, and laughed a little, narrowly dodging a doggy kiss straight into the mouth, nudging Croft’s head aside.

“M’up, m’up,” Roman said, and patted him on the back. “Let’s hope you didn’t leave any surprises around the apartment, how about a bit of a w—stroll, huh?”

Croft had quickly learned what the w word meant, so they either spelled it out or used some other word, lest Croft start bouncing around eagerly.

No surprises, which was good, and Roman tugged on some clothes, hunting around for a plastic baggie and Croft’s leash, at which point, Croft started bouncing eagerly, running between Roman and the door, jumping and wagging his tail so fast his whole butt wiggled.

“I know, I know!” Roman said with a laugh. “Okay, now—sit.”

Croft sat. Well, mostly; he sat in such a way that his butt didn’t quite touch the ground.

“Let’s go!” Roman said, opening the front door, and Croft charged forth, yanking Roman forward with his odd-hopping gait, throwing himself into the walk with all his force.

Roman liked taking Croft on these early morning walks; it was some exercise, which was nice, and… well.

He’d never tell his roommates this, but Croft was a really good listener.

He knew that Croft didn’t actually understand him, but he was good at seeming like he did; there were the huffs, and pants, and looks that he did often. It was just kind of nice to… talk, sometimes.

“It’s probably going to be a bit of a long day,” Roman told Croft, as Croft sniffed interestedly at a tree. “I’m not going to be here a lot. Rehearsals are really picking up pace.”

Croft made a snuffling noise.

“Yeah, I know, I haven’t been here as much,” Roman said, “but you’ve got the other three, too, ya know? I’ll try and keep morning walks free and extra long, how about that?”

Croft tilted his head a little, and trotted-hopped onwards. Good enough for Roman.

The walk in the brisk fall weather continued like that; Roman talking to Croft about his schedule, his worries, and each time, Croft would make some kind of noise, or wag his tail.

It was just nice, Roman guessed, to talk to someone who’d keep all your secrets, and not judge you for silly things like I’m worried that I’m going to mess up onstage and everyone’s going to hate me for it. Croft would just wag his tail and lick him and flop down on the couch with him once they’d gotten through with the walk, demanding all the pets that Roman could give him.

Listen, Virgil had been team cat, all the way. He was as surprised as anyone to find out how much he liked having a dog.

Virgil cracked his eyes open when the door creaked open, irrationally afraid (when wasn’t he irrationally afraid, though?) that Patton had gotten back early and noticed Virgil wasn’t on campus today. Virgil frowned, because no one was there.

The sudden displacement of his mattress spoke of a different story, and Virgil let a hand flop in Croft’s direction.

“Hey, bud,” he said, voice scratchy. “I’m not really… at my best today, so if you wanna play tug or something—”

Croft made the grumbling-sighing noise at him, and instead laid his big head on Virgil’s chest, huffing a breath through his nose.

“Oh,” Virgil said, at last, and paused, hand hovering, before he at last let it come down on Croft’s head. “Cuddle time, huh? That’s what you want?”

Sometimes, it seemed like Croft’s favorite times of day were in the early morning, when he cuddled up against any of them and they both snoozed until they actually had to wake up. Virgil had never before met a (would be) 90 pound dog who was so convinced he was a lapdog.

“Mkay,” Virgil murmured, and they adjusted—Croft ended up, essentially, on his side, mostly laying on top of Virgil, head tucked in the space between Virgil’s head and neck.

Virgil, hesitantly, wrapped his arms around Croft’s body—to make sure he stayed in place and didn’t fall off, and stuff.

The warmth and the weight of him was doing something to make Virgil’s eyelids feel heavier, though. Croft would occasionally rumble in his ear, in his sleep; Virgil envied the swiftness with which he could fall asleep.

“You’re a good boy,” Virgil managed to say, and started petting Croft; his fur was kind of bristly, and it provided an interesting texture under his hands. Something else to focus on.

“Such a good boy,” Virgil murmured, hand continuing to make the lazy path up and down Croft’s back.

So dogs weren’t that bad, after all.

“Crofty Crofty Croft!” Patton sing-songed, bent forward, hands on his knees. “Who’s a good boy? Whosagoodboy?!”

Croft was eagerly wagging his tail. Who is the good boy?!

“Is it you?!” Patton crooned, and giggled as Croft hopped a little. “Is it you?! I think it is! You’re such a good boy, Croft!”

He scooped up Croft in his arms (he was genuinely considering taking up weightlifting so he’d be able to keep picking him up once he was fully grown) and planted a kiss on his little forehead, Croft wiggling in his arms.

Patton was alone for the evening, but that was okay, because he’d thought of some things to try with Croft! Things they’d never done with him before!

“We’re gonna do an experiment, baby!” Patton crooned, and at last set Croft down. “Okay, so, here we go! I got some new things to try!”

There were a lot of new toys. Unsurprisingly, Croft loved all the ones that would transfer a treat to himself; Patton could relate to wanting only food and love. Like, a lot.

To the point he immediately snapchatted an image of Croft chasing clumsily after a treat ball with that exact caption to his roommates.

Okay, he might have snapchatted a lot of pictures of Croft. His camera roll was now almost exclusively pictures of Croft or his friends, but really mostly Croft.

Patton, at last, dug out the piece de resistance, as Roman would say, and crooned at Croft to come—and immediately realized some flaws with this plan.

But he was gonna make it work!

“Patton, we’re home,” Virgil called, and frowned.

Croft hadn’t come running as soon as they came through the door. That was… different.

Logan and Roman were exchanging looks of a similar degree, Logan already half-crouched, as if just out of habit. He cleared his throat and stood up, straightening his tie.

“Kitchen!” Patton called, and all three progressed forwards, before coming to a stop.

Patton, blinking, turned from where he’d been stirring a pot on the stove, holding Croft (in a onesie) on his hip, as if Croft was a baby.

“Um,” Virgil said at last. “Patton.”

Patton blinked at him, and looked at Croft, and then back to them, before he laughed a little nervously, setting Croft back on the ground so Croft could hop forth and demand love.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I got way into playing house.”

“We baby this dog too much,” Logan said ruefully, before immediately helping Croft unearth a slightly trapped treat from the treat ball and giving it to him.

“He deserves it,” Roman declared, and nobody could quite find it in themselves to disagree.

#my fic #my fanfic #lamp #sanders sides fanfic #anonymous #ask #logan #virgil #patton #roman

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velkynkarma · 7 years

Note

Hey! Happy birthday!! I hope I'm not too late, I understand if I'm am, but if you're still accepting prompts could I get some Keith and Pidge interaction? Like literally anything, but if you want a more specific prompt, like maybe they go on a mission and Keith get's hurt, and Pidge has to get them both back to the others? Or again just anything you want to do with those two. Also I Love your voltron fics on AO3, they're amazing!! I espically love your Friends in Space Places series!

I decided to combo these two since they had similar characters and topics! Hope you guys enjoy, even if this is probably not even remotely what you had in mind (but man, the idea got in my head and I couldn’t let it go!)---------- Pidge gasps in pain as she dives behind the high stack of metal storage containers and comes down the wrong way on her bad leg. She bites her tongue to keep from yelling and giving away her position, and twists to sit with her back against the container, stretching her bad leg out in front of her. A moment later, Keith comes stumbling in after her. He thuds awkwardly against the side of the container with one shoulder, and nearly trips on Pidge as he skids to a stop and crouches down next to her.There’s a long pause as they take stock of the situation. Pidge can hear the clank of sentries all throughout the storage unit they’re hidden in on the Galra land base, and the occasional ba-choo ba-choo of their blasters as they fire to try and flush out the enemy. But Pidge thinks she and Keith have a few doboshes at least to catch their breath and figure out a plan.“Well,” Keith says after a moment, keeping his voice low, “At least it can’t—““If you say it can’t get worse,” Pidge interrupts him with a barely contained hiss, “I swear I will punch you so hard you can see again.”

Keith stares, and raises an eyebrow at her a moment later. At least, Pidge thinks that’s what’s happening. The effect is sort of greatly diminished by the fact that he’s staring about a foot to the left of her actual face. “Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”“Yes—no—ugh, never mind.” On occasion, Pidge forgets that Keith, while a great team mate in a lot of things, is less than savvy when it comes to things like don’t say it can’t get worse, it always gets worse. “Haven’t you ever seen a movie?”“I’ve seen plenty of movies,” Keith says, a touch defensively. “Then how can you…” A particularly sharp stab of pain races through her broken leg, and she gasps despite herself. “Y’know what, never mind. Not the time,” she manages to grit out through her teeth. Keith frowns. “How you doing?” he asks. He sounds concerned, and he’s clearly trying to force some degree of control into his tone for her benefit. “I saw you get hit before…”Pidge winces. They’d been on a mission to steal data from the Galra land base they were in. They’d used Shiro’s tried-and-true method of distraction and stealth—Shiro, Lance and Hunk were out wreaking havoc on the rest of the fleet and surface-to-air weapons and drawing attention to themselves, while Pidge had stealthed in with the Green Lion, with Keith for backup. And the first part of the plan had gone well—Keith had gotten them past the biometric locks easy, and it had been a breeze for Pidge to download all the data they were looking for.Getting out had proven to be a bit of a challenge though, because they’d gotten caught halfway through their escape back to the Green Lion. Even then it hadn’t been going so badly—Keith could mow through sentries when he was so inclined, and Pidge was no slouch in a fight. Then she’d gone and gotten herself hit by a druid’s spell. They hadn’t expected the druid to show up; no one had even figured there was a druid here. The caster had blinked out of nowhere and blasted at Pidge full on with a lightning bolt, and she’d barely had time to try and throw herself aside. She’d avoided taking the hit directly to her head or torso, but the lightning blast had smashed into her right leg, and it hurt. She’d collapsed, and it had taken her a moment to even remember where the hell she was and what she was supposed to be doing through all the pain.Keith had hit the druid from behind when it charged up another blast to finish off Pidge. The good news was he’d managed to kill it, driving his Marmora blade through the druid’s chest. The bad news was he’d taken a faceful of imploding druid spell when he did. His helm had protected him from the worst of the damage, but he’d stared straight into the intensity of the spell as it burst. And when he’d staggered away from the twisted, burned out pile of robes moments later, wide-eyed and unfocused, Pidge had realized he’d been blinded.Even now, he doesn’t look good. The helm of his paladin armor has been shattered, leaving his head and face exposed, with a clear view of his eyes. His pupils are shrunk down to the size of pinpricks, and his gaze doesn’t track anything, even when she waves her fingers in front of his face. Not to mention the injuries he’s already sustained from the fight prior to that, a host of scrapes, bruises and burns from all the scuffles they’ve been in since getting spotted.Not that Pidge is much better. She can see, but her leg is totally busted. She doesn’t even want to look down at it; she already knows it’s gross. The bolt had shattered most of her greave and burned through the under armor, leaving everything from the knee down a burned, cracked, sluggishly bleeding mess. It smells like charred meat, and it’s only through sheer force of will that she’s not throwing up.“Been better,” she admits, trying to downplay it for now. She’s in rough shape, but Keith can’t see that, and there’s no point in worrying him more. She does her best to keep the rough edge of pain out of her voice. “You? Any vision coming back?”“No. Everything’s dark and fuzzy.” He sounds frustrated, and Pidge doesn’t blame him. She’s seen Keith keep fighting with all manner of injuries, but he’s never had to fight blind before. A busted arm or leg might have worked out better for him than this. He’s calmer than most people would be when suddenly rendered sightless, but he’s still more anxious than Keith usually is in a fight.Pidge really, really hopes the cryo-pods can fix that. She’s pretty sure they can. Almost positive. Assuming they can get to one, anyway. Odds are less good on that, unfortunately.She curses under her breath as the clank of sentries starts to get closer. “We are so screwed. There’s no way the others can get to us in time, even if we did manage to get a distress signal out.” There must have been more panic or pain in her voice than she’d intended for, because Keith frowns. “Hey, no,” he says, and flails round a bit awkwardly in front of him, narrowly missing Pidge’s face before he manages to find her shoulder. He squeezes reassuringly when he finally does, and says insistently, “Look, I’m okay, and you’re okay. We’re both okay and neither of us is dead yet. And that means we can figure a way out between us. But you’re the brains here, Pidge—if you can figure out a plan I’ll follow you.”“How?” Pidge snaps, more aggressively than intended. “You can’t even see me to follow, and I can’t walk to lead! The only working thing we’ve got between us are arms, and it’s not like we’re Voltron and only need to be the…one…thing…”Her eyes widen in surprise, and suddenly she has it.“Pidge?” Keith asks with concern. His hand, still on her shoulder, gives her a little shake. “I have a really stupid idea,” Pidge tells him solemnly. “It might not even work. It’s pretty ridiculous.”“It’s already better than what I have, which is nothing,” Keith tells her. “What’s the plan?”Pidge takes a deep breath. “I’m gonna be your eyes,” she tells him, “and you’re gonna be my legs. We’re gonna Voltron this. Kind of. Two person Voltron.” To his credit, Keith only takes about five ticks to process it before he says, “Okay, fine. I can’t see what I’m doing—gonna need your help to get you on my back.” It’s an awkward and thoroughly painful endeavor, but in the end Pidge is situated in a piggyback with Keith carrying her. She’s able to help by clinging to his shoulders with her arms, and keeping her left leg curled around his waist as much as possible, although the overall effect is a bit monkey-like. She thanks her lucky stars Lance isn’t here to make fun of them for it.“Can you move okay?” Pidge asks.“Maybe. I think. You’ll have to direct,” Keith says. “How do we fight though? We’re open targets like this.”“I can help with my bayard, but I’ll need to take the right side,” Pidge says. “Good thing you’re ambidextrous, you’ll have to be the left arm.”“There’s a change of pace,” Keith mutters. Pidge rolls her eyes, and pushes his Marmora knife into his hand—he’d lost it on the floor when trying to help her climb onto his back with a busted leg. “There. You’re armed…no pun intended. Whatever you do, don’t do that thing when you use your jetpack to fight, or I’m gonna be charbroiled Pidge, okay?”“I wouldn’t even if you weren’t being my eyes,” Keith says, grumbling. “With my luck I’d blast myself right into a wall.” The almost cartoonish image in her head of a flattened Keith peeling off a wall Wile E. Coyote style might have been hilarious if the situation weren’t so dire. “I’ll keep you away from the walls,” Pidge promises. “On the count of three. Ready?” Keith crouches a little to better take her weight. The knife in his left hand extends to a full sword, glowing slightly. His right hand curls beneath her upper leg to better support her injured limb, which is simultaneously painful and a relief. “Ready.” “One…two…three…go!” Keith blasts out from behind the storage containers in a rush. Pidge grimaces at how painfully it jars her leg, but does her best to ignore it—especially since they have bigger concerns. Two sentries are right there, and immediately turn to raise their blasters. “Shit!” Pidge curses, and lashes out with her bayard, activating the taser function as soon as the grapple leaves its port. The two sentries jerk and sizzle almost immediately, collapsing where they stand. Unfortunately, her wild strike also throws Keith off balance, and he stumbles sideways, nearly tripping on one of the collapsed robots and colliding with another metal container.“Sorry,” Pidge says with a wince. “I didn’t mean to—strike left!”Keith, to his credit, doesn’t even hesitate. He swipes out in a wide arc to the left with his Marmora blade, bracing his legs to counter the momentum. It’s wildly uncoordinated, but it does still manage to slice open the front half of a sentry’s chest cavity, enough that it sparks and collapses to the ground.“Felt something—did I hit it?” Keith asks, head twisting around and eyes wide, like he’s trying to see through the non-existent gloom. Pidge spits out some of his hair that gets in her mouth, and pulls back to keep from getting her chin smashed with his skull. But that ends up overbalancing Keith the wrong way, and he staggers backwards. “Ugh, this is hard,” Pidge hisses in frustration. She leans forward again, keeping her head to Keith’s right instead to help balance him again. “Keep going forward, I think we’re clear for a few ticks.”Keith does, leaning forward for better momentum. Pidge swears she hears him muttering under his breath, “Starting to appreciate the work Hunk and Lance do more….”Despite herself, Pidge snorts.They blast through the storage room, and manage to avoid most of the sentries, which have spread out throughout all the containers searching for their quarry. “Watch the robes on the floor,” Pidge says, and Keith manages to skirt around them at her direction to avoid tripping on the druid’s remains. “Right right right!” she hisses next, and Keith banks hard, nearly unseating Pidge as he turns for the door. She wraps her hand hard around his collar and neck to keep hanging on, and he makes a strangled choking noise. “Breathing’s nice,” he manages to hiss at her, as he manages to stagger back upright from the turn. “Sorry,” she mutters. “Go for broke. Run! Fast!”Keith does, and even blinded and burdened with her additional weight, he’s pretty fast. He leans forward to get the most speed he can, and Pidge leans forward with him, thankful he trusts her enough to just run full out without fear of careening into a wall. They make it up the first hallway just in time, and when Pidge (carefully) turns to look over her shoulder, the remaining sentries are only just starting to get into place enough to shoot.“Turn coming up ahead,” Pidge warns. “On your right. Maybe twenty steps.”“Got it,” Keith acknowledges.He nearly overshoots the turn anyway, and clips the edge of the hall with his left shoulder as Pidge screeches, “Turn, turn, turn already!” The Marmora blade takes a small chunk out of the corner of the hallway intersection, and Keith winces. “Sorry,” Pidge says, genuinely apologetic. “Forgot your steps are longer than mine.”“S’fine,” Keith says, panting slightly. “What’s next?”“We make it down this hallway and one more, and we’re at the bay we hid the Green Lion in,” Pidge says. “It’ll be locked, we’re gonna need your hand for th—dodge right!” Keith does immediately, barely missing the blast from the sentry’s gun as the enemy appears ahead of them. “Not that far right!” Pidge screeches a moment later, as Keith turns too far and bounces off the right wall. She suppresses a scream through clenched teeth as her bad leg slams against the metal walls of the hallway, and her fingers dig into Keith’s collar unconsciously. “Pidge!” Keith yells. “You okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—““S’fine,” it’s Pidge’s turn to hiss, still through clenched teeth. “Brace. My bayard.” They do better the second time she attacks. This time, Keith turns and manages to counter her momentum as she lashes out with her bayard. It’s not unlike Voltron’s movements when Keith strikes in the Red Lion with the Blazing Sword, and she wonders if maybe he learned it from that. Whatever the case, her electrified bayard smashes into the sentry’s head, and it collapses to the floor. They don’t teeter awkwardly afterwards, and Keith is able to right them again with no incident.“Ten paces and jump, or you’ll trip over the sentry I just downed,” Pidge warns.“My steps or yours?”“Yours—jump!”Keith does, clearing the robot’s sparking remains just barely. He stumbles awkwardly on the landing, and Pidge is afraid for a moment they’re going to go tumbling, but he manages to catch them both at the last minutes and get upright again. “Where now?” he asks, trying and failing to look around on instinct. “Forward, twenty more paces, then turn left,” Pidge orders.This goes much more smoothly than the last turn, and Keith actually manages to make it into the center of the hallway without hitting anything, which is impressive on both of their parts. There’s two more sentries there, but Keith lashes out at Pidge’s order with his Marmora blade and manages to take one down through sheer dumb luck, and Pidge manages to electrocute the second. “Run about fifty more steps,” Pidge orders. “Then start to slow down. There’s a door ahead, don’t run into it. We’re gonna need your hand for this.” Keith follows her directions, and manages to not slam headfirst into a locked steel door, which is a relief. Then comes the newest hurdle. “Uh…how do I…” he asks, trying to look around for the panel right next to his head, and staring right through it without realizing. “Give me the sword thing. Carefully,” Pidge instructs. Keith, to his credit, trusts her with his Marmora weapon without hesitation, reducing it to knife size and holding it up by the blade for her to take the handle. She manages to not impale either of them with it when she takes it from him. When his hand is free, she says, “Panel’s on your left. About head height.”Keith pats around on the wall awkwardly, but after two or three tries he still can’t seem to find it. She can tell he’s getting frustrated—for all his supposed calm through all of this, Pidge can tell his blindness is clearly bothering him. She grimaces, sticks her own bayard between her teeth to free up her hand, and grabs Keith’s wrist, guiding it to the panel. Keith huffs in irritation, but after a moment he mutters, “Thanks.”“Don’t mention it. Really.” The panel beeps as it recognizes Keith’s Galra DNA, and the door slides open—just as company shows up from behind them. “Go! Two steps, and we’ll lock it.”Keith does as bid, and Pidge hastily presses his hand against the panel on the other side of the door. “Hold it there,” she instructs, and Keith does. Pidge hastily punches in half a dozen instructions on the keypad, and the panel beeps again, flashing red as the door slams behind them. “Okay, locked. We shouldn’t get hit from behind, at least until they can override that.”“Good.” Keith pulls his hand away from the panel, and Pidge presses the handle of his knife back into his palm. She feels the tension leave his shoulders just slightly when he gets the weapon back—Keith definitely does not like being unarmed in a dangerous place like this. “Where’m I going now?”“Forward, and—oh, no.” Pidge can see the green honeycombed dome of the Green Lion’s particle barrier just ahead, and the wide-open bay doors just behind, letting in hot desert wind and bright sunlight. It’s a beautiful, welcome sight. The twenty or so sentries between them and the Green Lion, however, are not.“What? What’s going on? What do you see?”“Trouble,” Pidge hisses. “We got so close—left, dodge left!”Keith does, tripping over some spare wiring, and he crashes painfully to his knees behind a pile of large metal canisters. They miss being shot by inches. “How many?” Keith asks, panting and wincing slightly as he gingerly tries to shift to a more comfortable crouch without dropping her. “Sounds like a lot.”“It’s a lot,” Pidge agrees. “More than we could take—“There’s a screech of metal and a shuddering rumble that sends Keith collapsing onto his side, with Pidge sprawled out painfully next to him. A moment later there’s an unmistakable digital roar, and the dry, hot desert heat gets inexplicably frigid. “We figured you guys could use a little help,” Lance’s voice says over the comms. Pidge has never been more happy to hear that voice, even if she can absolutely see the smug look on Lance’s face that unquestionably accompanies that tone. She hastily manages to re-climb onto Keith’s back with his help, and he clambers to his feet. Pidge peeks carefully around the stack of canisters, and her eyes go wide in surprise. The Blue Lion is hanging half in and half out of the bay, behind the Green Lion. Its metal paws outstretched as far as they can go across the bay floor, huge claws dug into the steel panelling for stability. Blue is a little too big to fit into the bay door properly, and is wedged awkwardly into place by the blue plating of its back; Pidge is pretty sure the Yellow and Black Lions couldn’t have managed the tight fit at all at all. Lance has managed to cram his Lion in just enough to get a decent angle with its ice ray, and the sentries that had been between them and the Green Lion are now little more than miniature glaciers. “Nice shot, Lance!” Pidge says. Even Keith nods in agreement, although he can’t actually see the extent of the maneuver. “I got you covered, get in your Lion,” Lance says. The Blue Lion’s head turns and its jaw opens wide, aimed at the door they’d just come through. Pidge isn’t about to argue. “Careful,” she warns Keith. “The ground’s icy now, watch your footing.” He nods in acknowledgement, and she manages to guide him around the icy pillars of former sentries to the Green Lion’s particle barrier. Green drops the barrier when they’re close, and even helpfully crouches just in front of Keith, opening her jaws wide and dropping the ramp at his feet so he doesn’t have to find his way to her on his own. Getting through the hatch to the cockpit is a veritable nightmare, but Keith eventually manages to stagger his way to the pilot’s chair, patting awkwardly until he finds it. He deposits Pidge in her seat and sits down wearily with his back to the dashboard, closing his eyes—not that it does much, as far as Pidge can tell.“We’re out of here!” Pidge calls over the comms. “Lance, back out so we can escape. Thanks for the cover.”“Are you two alright?” Shiro asks. He’s using his Leader Voice, but there’s an edge of concern to it. Pidge isn’t sure how much the three of them managed to hear over the comms, but they have to know things weren’t exactly going great. “Nothing a cryo-pod won’t cure,” Keith says, loud enough for Green’s cabin comm to pick it up. Shiro makes a little hmph that says he’s not entirely satisfied with the answer, but it’s the best he’s gonna get for the moment. “How’d you guys make it out?” Hunk asks, as Pidge finally guides the Green Lion out of the bay. She sees the Yellow and Black Lions zip past defensively, blasting several approaching fighters out of the air. “We figured we would have to break in somehow to get you guys out of there.”“Just had to think like Voltron,” Pidge answers, grinning a little. She glances over in Keith’s direction, and even though she knows he can’t see her grin, she does catch the little smirk on his face all the same. Yeah, things aren’t the greatest at the moment—her leg is still killing her, and Keith’s still blind until they can get him in a cryo-pod, so piloting and actual Voltron are out until further notice. But like Keith said…she was okay, and so was he. They were alive, and they’d made it out in one piece between them. And that wasn’t a bad ending at all.And more importantly, she can’t believe that idiotic plan worked. She can’t wait until she has time to tell them the full story. Lance and Hunk are going to eat it up. Even Shiro and Allura and Coran will probably be impressed. Yeah. Definitely not a bad ending at all.

#familyofpaladins #karma's birthday bash #velkynkarma writes #voltron #blood #injury #temporary blindness #keith #pidge #lance #shiro #hunk #I dunno wtf this is but damn if I didn't enjoy writing it anyway #I wanted to post this yesterday sorry for the wait guys

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