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moni-logues · 1 month

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Hey, You

Pairing: Taehyung x Hyunjin

Genre: exes-to-lovers, smut, Kintsugi characters!

Summary: Hyunjin invites Taehyung to his new life in Paris. Taehyung, perhaps against better judgement, goes. He knows he's going to leave with questions and that's all he knows.

Word count: 5.6k

Content: top!Taehyung, bottom!Hyunjin, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected anal sex; kintsugi reader is named in this fic, her name is Jinnie

A/N: well, none of you guys asked for it but here it is!!!! If you haven't read Kintsugi, you can probably skip the first two parts lol and go straight to Tae waiting at the airport, but I wanted to include the other bits at the beginning because this IS part of the Kintsugi world. I haven't decided how this ends, if I'm honest. I, too, have questions about their future.

Part Two

~*~

Taehyung didn’t bother looking up when he heard the beep of his door lock, the sweep of the door being opened, Jinnie’s footsteps crossing the room.

“Hi, baby,” she cooed lightly, perching on the sofa next to him, gently stroking his hair back from his face.

He loved her. He was grateful for her. But she was the wrong Jinnie and he’d have given anything for her to be the right one. The one who was already hundreds of miles away and getting farther. The one who had left him, left Korea, and gone to live another dream.

Taehyung couldn’t hate him for it. Couldn’t be bitter or angry or resentful. It was always going to be this way. Before they ever met, Hyunjin had plans to leave, had applications in and options open. They kept things casual between them deliberately. For this very reason. Except it wasn’t casual. Not really. As much as Taehyung tried, as much as Hyunjin tried, it couldn’t be casual.

They danced around each other for a long time before numbers were even exchanged. They spent time together without calling it ‘dating’. They slowly circled tighter and tighter around each other until it was just the two of them. Just right.

Then he left.

Taehyung hadn’t been prepared for how much it would hurt. Even though he knew he’d fallen way too deep, that they’d taken this way too far. He thought his long-held knowledge of this departure would cushion his heart, keep it safe. It didn’t.

“I shouldn’t be sad,” he said, voice hoarse and croaky, because he’d already cried so many tears.

“Teddybear!” she exclaimed, in a soft admonition. “Of course you should be sad. It’s ok.”

He shook his head. It didn’t feel ok. Not at all. Not even close. He lifted his blanket to his face to cover it as the tears sprang again. His breath shook and his lip trembled. Jinnie clambered over him and held him tight, as tight as she could manage. He let her. It was nice to be held. She didn’t really know it, but she was good at holding.

She kept holding him for the worst of those early days. Took to caring for him with a relish that made his heart just a little less shattered. She loved him. He loved her. Their undying loyalty to one another had been forged through heartbreak, had made them something closer than friends, made them family. And it was happening again now: their world keeping Taehyung sheltered, just a little, from the abysmal loneliness that hid in the shadows.

When she finally left his apartment, when Taehyung had stopped crying, she held him tight at the door for what could have been hours.

“I love you, Teddybear,” she whispered. “I’m here for you. Call me, ok?”

He had nodded, cheek rubbing against her hair.

“I love you, too.”

He comforted himself, in the quiet that followed her departure, with the knowledge that she was on the precipice of joy. He could see her there, trembling on the edge of it, scared to fall. He’d have pushed her if he could have but he knew she had to jump on her own. Jinnie had been Taehyung not too long ago. Jinnie had been broken into a thousand, tiny pieces and convinced she would never be whole again.

Jinnie was falling in love.

That didn’t feel possible for Taehyung. It felt very, very far away. It felt about 5571 miles away, to be exact. But it was happening for Jinnie and he couldn’t deny that, didn’t really even want to.

* * *

Jinnie fell heavily onto Yoongi’s sofa with a sigh and scooped Cherry from her perch on the back of it. She set the cat in her lap and gave her chin a scratch. Oh, to be a cat. She leant backwards, tipped her head back, too, and closed her eyes. Yet another sigh. She didn’t move when Yoongi approached and she heard the rustle of his clothes, the quiet thud of a glass on the coffee table. She let the weight of his body on the sofa turn her towards him.

“Are you ok?” he asked hesitantly.

“Do you have any gay friends?”

There was a moment of silence in which Yoongi shook off his surprise.

“Uh, yeah? Why?”

“I want to find someone for Teddy.”

Jinnie was aware of Yoongi nodding above her.

“Does he want you to find someone for him?”

She looked up at him with a pout on her face.

“He’s going to Paris.”

“Taehyung?”

“Yes! Apparently Hyunjin invited him. I didn’t even know they were talking.”

“Don’t you want him to go?”

“I can’t imagine a world where it’s not a really bad idea. He says he’s over it and maybe that is true, but he’s still not... Out there, y’know? I don’t think he’s been on one date since Hyunjin left and that’s just not like Teddy at all. He’s going to go to Paris and have his heart broken all over again!”

“Have you told him that?”

“Of course, I have, but he won’t listen.”

“Would you listen, if you were him?”

Jinnie’s pout intensified and, in choosing not to answer, gave an answer anyway. Yoongi smiled and wrapped his arms around her.

“If he’s made up his mind, you can’t stop him.”

“I know. And I know I did a lot of stupid shit that I shouldn’t have when San broke up with me, so it’s not as if I even have a leg to stand on. I just don’t want him to get hurt.”

“He probably doesn’t want that either.”

Jinnie loved Yoongi, with her whole, entire heart, but sometimes, she wished he wasn’t always fucking right.

“If he’s chosen to go, he’ll have his reasons and whether or not he’s prepared for what happens out there is up to him,” he continued.

Jinnie sighed again and tucked herself tighter into Yoongi.

“I know... I know. I just... It’s just not like Teddy to do this, y’know? And I know Hyunjin was... different. Or- I don’t know. I know that it’s Hyunjin and he wouldn’t be doing this for anyone else, but that’s why I’m worried about it. The stakes feel too high.”

Yoongi pondered for a few moments, questioning his response, hesitating.

“You came to Daegu,” he said eventually, quietly.

“That’s different.”

“Is it?”

A genuine question, because Yoongi didn’t actually know but it was the closest equivalent he could find. He didn’t push Jinnie for a response, knew there would be a reason for her rare silence. After a minute, she looked up at him, eyes wide; Yoongi didn’t know what her face meant, what he was supposed to be reading in it about her trip to Daegu that she couldn’t find words for. He kissed her forehead and she relaxed back into him, head on his shoulder.

“I guess you’re right,” she conceded after another minute or two. “I get it. I understand why he’s going. I just don’t want him to.” She paused and then with an effortful sigh, continued, “I don’t want him to go and have his heart broken but I also don’t want him to go and... be happy. I know that sounds bad—it is bad. It’s selfish but I... I don’t want him to leave me.”

“You think that’s possible? That he’ll try to move out there?”

“At this point, I think anything is possible...”

She stopped talking, the lump in her throat grown too large, tears threatening the edge of her waterline. She wiped roughly at them, sniffing, shaking her head. Yoongi held her tighter still, keenly aware of the hole Taehyung’s moving would leave in her life, keenly aware that he couldn’t fill it.

“I’m being dramatic,” she sniffed. “It’s literally just a holiday. It’ll be fine. I just-”

“It’s ok. It’ll be ok.”

She nodded, reassuring herself of the same. Yoongi frowned above her, a new worry settling in his stomach.

* * *

Taehyung felt sick. Over and above everything else, sick. He was nervous and exhausted and hungry and waiting at the airport with a snake pit in his stomach. He was scanning constantly, left to right, looking for Hyunjin. Didn’t know which direction he’d be coming from. Didn’t know if he would have changed: had he dyed or cut his hair? What would he be wearing? Would he still be Hyunjin, like he always was? He peered into the faces of strangers, who definitely couldn’t ever be Hyunjin, just in case. Was he that figure over there, striding in a red dress? No, of course not. Was he that elderly man gingerly stepping out of a taxi? No. But Taehyung had to look closely, just in case.

“Taehyung! You came!”

Korean. Cutting through the French around him, loud and clear and to his left. He turned. Ah, of course, that was Hyunjin. As ever. He didn’t have time for a full appraisal of his appearance, because Hyunjin was coming closer still, enveloping Taehyung in a hug that made him go a little weak at the knees. That was Hyunjin, delicately sweet, lightly refreshing.

The snake pit in Taehyung’s stomach turned to butterflies when Hyunjin pulled back. He was grinning from ear to ear and Taehyung was sure his face mirrored the expression. Without another word, Hyunjin grabbed Taehyung’s suitcase from him and turned to lead him away. He immediately tripped over a wheel of the suitcase and stumbled, looking back at Taehyung with a kind of denied surprise. Taehyung laughed. Thank god. He was the same. Just the same.

The train took only 34 minutes and they spent it in nervous silence. There were too many people; it was too public for a reunion, so they simply stood next to one another, in their own worlds. Taehyung’s nerves were eating at him again, fraying at the edges with exhaustion and adrenalin; he wanted to hold Hyunjin’s hand, wanted to kiss him, wanted to fall back into everything they had said goodbye to months ago. It surprised him, the strength of that feeling.

He hadn’t known what to expect, had been surprised when Hyunjin invited him. There wasn’t a drop of doubt in Taehyung’s acceptance; he knew he wanted to go. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to find there. He thought perhaps either would be a relief: to go and be madly in love again, even if only for a short while, to know that Hyunjin’s feelings hadn’t faded either, that everything he thought he felt when they were together was true. That would be a relief, but also, to go and find that those feelings had faded, that they had mellowed into something sweet and comforting and platonic? That would also be a relief.

He didn’t ask Hyunjin about his intentions, didn’t want to make it weird before it had even begun, so he had just daydreamed to himself, looked up pictures of Parisian streets and imagined himself and Hyunjin walking down them, sitting at tables outside cafes, the perfect summer holiday.

Now, part of him wished he had. It was clearer than ever to him that he was still Hyunjin’s; what was not clear was whether or not Hyunjin wanted him. He wondered if the tension he felt was one-sided. He tried not to stare, not to peer into his face, to see in his eyes what he intended. He would find out soon enough, he figured, and he was too tired to be of sound mind enough to deduce anything.

“Sorry, it’s a little, uh, well, it’s like this,” Hyunjin said, as he gestured around at his small dorm room. “I’m going to move next semester, into a nice flat, but it’s not ready to move in yet. Sorry.”

Taehyung shook his head.

“No, this is fine. This is great. Thanks for letting me stay.”

Hyunjin grinned and tapped his phone for the time.

“What do you want to do?” he asked. “Are you tired? Do you want to sleep now for a bit, or can you power through until the evening?”

Taehyung had no idea. He had moved into the kind of alert overtiredness that left him feeling like sandpaper. He shrugged.

“I guess I can power through a bit.”

That appeared to be the correct answer. Hyunjin led him back out of the dorm and into Paris.

“Ah, Korean,” Hyunjin said as they walked towards a cafe. “It’s been too long! I don’t even know if I can speak it anymore!”

Taehyung laughed.

“How’s French?”

Hyunjin pulled a face.

“Ugh, it’s hard. I think it is as hard as English, actually. Harder. Did you know they have genders for everything? How am I supposed to remember a chair is female?”

“It is?”

Hyunjin shrugged.

“I don’t know, to be honest. But Korean! Ah, it is so nice to be speaking it again. Such a relief. I think everyone should speak Korean. It would make my life, specifically, a lot easier.”

Taehyung felt warm – and not just because of the Parisian summer heat. He had worried this would be awkward, but there was no awkwardness to be found. It was just him and Hyunjin again: same people, new place. It might have been the lack of sleep but Taehyung began to feel a little giddy, buoyed up by love and sunshine.

Hyunjin led him beside the Seine, past parks and gardens, past the Notre Dame. He led him to Diptyque, laughing, saying that he knew Taehyung would want to go there first. He wasn’t entirely wrong. The shop acted like smelling salts, invigorating Taehyung’s senses – but not so much that he didn’t drop almost his entire holiday allowance on one perfume – and, from there, Hyunjin promised tourist sites and culture.

Taehyung didn’t really care. He could see the Eiffel Tower on google. That wasn’t why he came.

As they walked further south-west, into the Jardin Tino-Rossi, there came a very French-sounding cry of Hyunjin’s name. A small group approached and Hyunjin exchanged cheek-kisses with all of them, little interjections of French and English going right over Taehyung’s head.

“Ah,” said the Frenchman at the front of the group. “Qui est ton ami?”

“Il s'appelle Taehyung, mon ami de Corée.”

“Taehyung, enchanté.”

“Uh, oui,” Taehyung offered, not delighted when each member of the group turned their attention to him for garbled greetings and cheek-kisses.

“Parles-tu français?”

“Comme moi, il ne parles pas français!” Hyunjin exclaimed with a laugh. “If you’re going to talk to us today, you have to use Korean,” he continued, in English.

Taehyung hadn’t heard him use that much English before. Had never heard him use French. Something about it made him feel far away. The months they had spent apart stretched into years; the person Hyunjin was in Korea disappeared. Taehyung knew he was tired, he wasn’t thinking clearly, but the weight of time crashed heavily onto his shoulders and he cracked. It wasn’t just the twelve hours of flying, or the months without Hyunjin, or the months with him. It was the weight of the world. It was his entire life. It was realising, at this moment, standing with his ex, surrounded by strangers, that he loved Hyunjin. Still. That it hadn’t gone away, that it wouldn’t go away. That, no matter what happened on this trip or further into the future, it would always be there.

“Korean? Non! What about English? Taehyung, do you understand English?”

He knew a little English, but didn’t recognise a word out of the Frenchman’s mouth. Hyunjin laughed again.

“No one understands your English, François! Your accent is too French! Even French people cannot understand you!”

“Oh, whatever, Hyunjin! When you learn French, then you can criticise my English! Pah, I’ve had enough of you!”

It was jovial and familiar and Taehyung had to be glad that Hyunjin had found people here, found friends. He should have been but he felt his mind itching, a scratching in his eyes and throat. A wave of nausea hit him and he barely waved goodbye as the group moved off. He had Hyunjin’s full attention again.

“Do you want to go home?” he asked and Taehyung could only nod.

“I’m sorry, like I said before, it’s a little small. I hope you don’t mind sharing the bed; it’s bigger than a standard single, at least.”

Taehyung could barely take in the words. He hastily took off his clothes, ignoring any impulse that might have told him not to, that maybe it wasn’t appropriate anymore, that maybe he should have changed elsewhere. Then he climbed under the covers and was asleep before his head had fully sunk into the pillow.

* * *

He slept a dreamless sleep until four in the morning when he woke, disorientated and convinced he was dreaming, to find Hyunjin in his arms. Taehyung was a cuddly sleeper. This was well-established. Hyunjin knew. Had first-hand experience of it. He had to have known that this would happen if they shared a bed. Taehyung wondered if it meant anything. If anything meant anything. Half-asleep, he couldn’t think it through properly. So he just relaxed back into the mattress, gave Hyunjin a light squeeze, and fell back to sleep.

When he woke for the second time, he could see bright sun around the edges of the window blind, even though it was only 7am. He didn’t want to wake Hyunjin, who was still sleeping, on his back now, in Taehyung’s arms. Taehyung looked at him, watched him breathe, his eyelids flickering lightly as he dreamt.

Hyunjin had left him. Taehyung had let him. He wondered if he would let him go again. Wondered if he could.

He didn’t have long to think about it; Hyunjin’s eyelids fluttered and his eyes opened slowly, squinting at Taehyung in the dim light of the room.

“Morning,” he said, voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” Taehyung returned.

His heart swelled, so big that the flesh of it pushed up against the bars of its cage, protruding through it. The metal bit at the muscle, threatened to cut through, but still it grew. It had been a long time since he’d heard that word from Hyunjin, since he’d been able to offer it back.

“Sorry,” he said then, feeling like he should.

He began to pull his arms back, but Hyunjin stopped him, hands holding in arms in place.

“No, don’t. I like it.”

Hyunjin shuffled, snuggling down in the light, summer covers, tucking his head against Taehyung’s.

“Ok,” Taehyung replied, voice barely even a whisper.

At some point, he knew he was going to have to ask if any of this meant anything, but, for now, he was going to lie, revelling in Hyunjin’s proximity, for as long as he would let him.

Between dozing, half asleep and half awake, Hyunjin twisted, turning onto his side to face Taehyung. He wrapped his own arms around him, softly rubbing his back, slotting a leg between his. Taehyung could barely breathe. He froze completely when he felt Hyunjin’s lips against his neck. When he thought he felt them.

“Taehyung...”

Hyunjin’s voice was muffled, his lips pressed against Taehyung’s skin. Taehyung was sure of it now. Hyunjin kissed his neck, dropped another kiss a little further up, nuzzled his nose against the sharp line of Taehyung’s jaw.

Not a moment, even a split-second of thought went into Taehyung’s next actions. He pulled back slightly, dipped his head, and kissed Hyunjin on the mouth. Not hesitant, not shy; firm, deliberate, long enough for his heart to start racing and his skin to flush.

When they separated, Hyunjin looked up at him with wide eyes. Taehyung had not once been able to say no to that face. This time, he didn’t want to say it. There were many things he did want to say, flurrying around in his brain, static-like and dizzying, until Hyunjin kissed him again and it all fell away.

“I missed you,” he whispered, between kisses. “I fucking missed you.”

“Me, too,” he returned. “Me, too.”

There were all sorts of things that they might have considered at that point, before things went too far, but neither of them was thinking anything at all. It was all animal, all instinct. Hyunjin hooked his leg over Taehyung’s hip, pulling their bodies close. Taehyung responded, hips rutting his cock against Hyunjin’s. Hyunjin bit down on Taehyung’s lip then twisted back, opening a drawer in his bedside table.

“Tae, take me, please,” he said, rolling back over, pushing a small tube of lube into Taehyung’s hand, his eyes pleading.

That face again. As if Taehyung would’ve said no. As if he could have. He kicked off his boxers as fast as he could; Hyunjin did the same and turned over, his back to Taehyung’s chest. The lube was warm in Taehyung’s hand and he was grateful for the summer heat that made it so. Then, like he had so many times before, he pushed the head of his cock against Hyunjin’s rim, past it, slowly inching himself inside.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “You’re tight. You ok?”

Hyunjin nodded hurriedly.

“Yes, yes. Please.”

Taehyung gave Hyunjin a second, once he was fully sheathed inside him, and reached forward, wrapping his long fingers around Hyunjin’s swollen cock, pumping slow and slick with the leftover lube on his hands. Hyunjin swore softly and reached back to pull at Taehyung’s hair.

“Please,” he begged, again. “Please, Tae. Fuck me.”

So Taehyung did. Hard and fast, until sweat was sticking his hair to his forehead, until drops of it rolled down his back, until his entire posterior chain wanted to give out. Everything he had learnt about Hyunjin resurfaced. Floating to the surface was the way he liked Taehyung’s teeth in his flesh, not too hard, but there all the same; the desperate way he whined and mewled for more; the tug of his hands in Taehyung’s hair, no matter the position; the smell of his body, his hair, his sweat, his cum.

Taehyung knew he was going to finish first, could feel it in the tight tension of his thighs, the hot, heavy pulling in his abdomen. He didn’t have to tell Hyunjin – he already knew.

“Come,” he panted. “Inside me. Please.”

Taehyung did not need telling twice. With his rhythm faltering and muscles contracting, he let himself go inside Hyunjin, then held himself there while his hand continued to work over Hyunjin’s length.

“Your turn,” Taehyung whispered in his ear.

Hyunjin nodded and, with a deep sigh, juddered into his climax, cum spilling over Taehyung’s fingers, staining the sheets.

Taehyung pulled himself out, slowly, carefully, and flopped onto his back. Hyunjin did the same and they lay, side by side, across the full breadth of the bed. Without looking, Hyunjin stretched out an arm into his bedside table again and let a packet of wipes land on Taehyung’s stomach.

They cleaned themselves up in silence, something in the air too thick for words to penetrate, but it wasn’t stifling. Taehyung felt like he could breathe more easily now than he had for months. He felt clear. He felt alive. He felt, with a fondness so deep it hurt, happy.

Hyunjin rolled into Taehyung, their faces level. They looked at one another for a while, just looking, taking it in, reminding themselves of all the minute details they might have forgotten, noticing the new ones.

Hyunjin was the first to break the silence. He cleared his throat.

“I didn’t ask you here for that, by the way.”

Taehyung’s stomach flipped.

“I mean... I didn’t know that was going to happen,” Hyunjin continued.

“Do you wish it hadn’t-”

“No. I’m glad it happened. I just... I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want you to think that I just invited you here to get laid.”

Taehyung laughed.

“I certainly don’t want you thinking I came all the way here to get laid. I can get laid in Korea just fine.”

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, before he had even registered the shadow fly over Hyunjin’s eyes, the sliver of hurt there.

“Have you?” he asked quietly, eyes dropping.

“Have I what?”

“Got laid. In Korea.”

Taehyung felt the heat on his cheeks. He knew the answer would say more than he wanted it to, but then... What was there left to reveal? Had they not just exposed themselves already? They were naked and sweaty in each other’s arms—didn't that say it all anyway?

He shook his head.

“No.”

“Ok.”

“Have you? Here?”

Hyunjin nodded, gaze still averted.

“Oh,” Taehyung breathed, surprised that he was surprised.

“Just..-”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Nothing that meant anything. It didn’t... I just...”

Hyunjin trailed off and Taehyung didn’t say anything to fill the silence. He didn’t know what to say. Of course Hyunjin would have slept with other people. You would have had to be crazy to turn him down. Hyunjin was single. He had every right to do everything he wanted. Nevertheless, Taehyung was finding it hard to breathe around the shard of glass in his heart.

“I wanted to forget you,” Hyunjin whispered. “I couldn’t. I just tried to get you out of my head.”

“Did it work?” he asked even though he didn’t want to know the answer.

Hyunjin just shrugged, his fingers gripping tightly to Taehyung, his eyes still downcast.

“Did it?”

Hyunjin lifted his face and shook his head. Taehyung sighed, pressed his forehead against Hyunjin’s.

“I love you.”

He hadn’t known he was going to say it. Hadn’t planned to. It had flown straight out of his mouth without passing his brain for approval. Hyunjin just stared at him, open-eyed, open-mouthed. He blinked. Taehyung looked down, cheeks burning, discomfort wriggling up from the nerves in his stomach.

“Do you really?” Hyunjin asked.

“Yes.”

Hyunjin surged forward, stealing a kiss and not giving it back. His hand wound around Taehyung’s hair, gripping and tugging; his tongue slipped through the seam of his lips, finding the soft, wet pad of Taehyung’s tongue, rolling over it; his leg, once more, found its way across Taehyung’s hip, bending and pulling him closer. It might not have been exactly the answer Taehyung had hoped for, but it was an answer all the same. It was an answer he would take, even if it was all he got, even if it was all he ever got. He would take it.

“Taehyung,” Hyunjin panted when he finally let him go. “I love you.”

“Oh.”

Hyunjin laughed, pressed his still-smiling lips to Taehyung’s again.

“I love you,” he repeated.

“I love you, too.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

Taehyung thought he had remembered. He thought he had remembered every minute detail of it, of Hyunjin, of him writhing below him. He thought he had remembered every whimpered breath, every jerk of his hips, the way his skin rippled with goosebumps, the sight of his dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. He thought he had it all down pat, but this, this was suddenly somehow new again. New but not different.

Taehyung held tight to the backs of Hyunjin’s thighs, pushing them into Hyunjin’s stomach, leaning against them as he fucked him. Hyunjin’s stomach was smeared with pre-cum and Taehyung knew it wouldn’t be long before he came. The twitch and squirm of Hyunjin’s body was a roadmap Taehyung had learnt to read long ago. He knew all its twists and turns, the shortcuts and detours, the scenic routes.

Hyunjin was a marathoner, not a sprinter. So when he came with a stuttered sigh, coating his shiny skin with cum, Taehyung didn’t stop. When he cried out, sensitive, over-stimulated, Taehyung didn’t stop. When he writhed beneath him, trying to kick his legs out, trying to lift his chest up, Taehyung didn’t stop. Didn’t stop when there were tears leaking from his eyes. Didn’t stop when Hyunjin’s cock grew stiff again, hard and dark and sticky. Didn’t stop when he felt his own legs twitch, when he felt himself on the edge, when he had to bite down hard on his lip to stop himself coming. He didn’t stop, his hips thrusting relentlessly into Hyunjin, hands gripping hard enough to bruise.

Taehyung had already lost count of the number of times they’d done this: filled the room with the sounds and smells of sex. The air was warm and wet, the tiny dorm almost steaming with the heat of them. It made breathing thick and difficult, made them light-headed, panting and gasping their way to the finish line.

Taehyung’s heart was erratic in his chest, beating hard and painfully as a bead of sweat dropped into his eye. He blinked fast, desperate not to miss him, knowing he was close. Hyunjin was speeding, again, taking corners way too fast and close to careening off a cliff. It was Taehyung’s job to drive him there and he loved to see a job well done. So he shook his head, cleared his eyes, and removed a hand from Hyunjin’s thigh. He took Hyunjin’s cock in his hand, pleas and gasps streaming from Hyunjin’s lips, and he squeezed it lightly, then a little tighter, his hand stroking up and down, slow compared to the punishing snap of his hips.

Hyunjin’s hips were twisting, his feet flexing, his hands forming fists as his sides. With a final flick of Taehyung’s wrist, he came again, adding to the white pool on his torso, cock twitching and jerking in Taehyung’s hand as he milked it dry.

Taehyung still wasn’t finished and Hyunjin’s breath broke in a sob, his whole body jerking loosely with every thrust of Taehyung’s hips. Taehyung knew Hyunjin had more in him, knew he could go another round, wanted to go another round, but Taehyung was almost broken. He was clinging to the cliffside with his fingertips, ten, then nine, then eight, as each digit popped from the rockface.

He let himself fall with a loud moan of Hyunjin’s name, spilling inside him, collapsing onto him. He felt Hyunjin’s cum sticky on his stomach, felt his breath blow hard against his ear, felt the press of his chest as it heaved and shuddered. Taehyung pressed his lips to wherever he could find skin. He knew he would suggest that they shower; he knew they would get under the water and Hyunjin would ask to be fucked again. Or maybe he would get on his knees. Taehyung needed a moment before that happened. To catch his breath. To come back down to earth and meet with reality again.

He paid close attention to the sound of Hyunjin’s breathing as it slowly settled. He noticed the stroke of two light fingers across his shoulders. All he could see from where he lay his head was the round of Hyunjin’s shoulder as it dipped into the top of his arm. Hyunjin’s skin somehow still smelt sweet, despite the sticky sheen of sweat across it, despite the cum squished between their stomachs.

“Fuck,” he said and his voice was hoarse.

Hyunjin could only nod.

Taehyung didn’t see much of Paris. Hyunjin pointed out the top of the Eiffel Tower from a distance. The only art Taehyung saw was Hyunjin’s own, which, in Taehyung’s opinion, was better than anything the Lourvre had to offer. He didn’t see a hunchback swing from the bells in the Notre Dame. He didn’t spot anyone in a Breton shirt, cycling with a baguette in their basket.

He saw Hyunjin, eyelashes dusting his cheeks with charcoal, as he slept. He took in the sight of Hyunjin’s naked body: lithe and long and just slightly more muscular than he remembered. He learnt French: how to say ‘I love you’ and ‘please’ and ‘my love’; how to say ‘more’ and ‘you feel so good’ and ‘don’t stop’. Learnt them in English, too, because why not? He ate sweet pastries for breakfast and sour cheeses for lunch; he drank bad wine and good wine and felt a little bit drunk all the time. Drunk on alcohol, maybe, but certainly drunk on love, drunk on the sound of Hyunjin, the taste of him, the feel of him.

He knew their time was running out. Knew they had questions to answer. Questions he didn’t know how to answer. He knew all of that was coming. That around the mountain there was trouble and strife and insurmountable obstacles. For now, though, that didn’t matter. He couldn’t let the unknowable future ruin his present. Wouldn’t.

He shook his head clear and brought himself around to the present again, to Hyunjin sitting opposite him on the bed, eating grapes and humming, smiling with stuffed-full cheeks at Taehyung. Taehyung’s heart swelled—he was sure he would leave Paris with a heart twice as big as when he arrived—but it didn’t hurt this time; the cage had been broken down, dismantled, pulled apart by Hyunjin’s hands. He made a note to himself to remember this moment: the dust motes sparkling in the sun, the incongruous stench of strong, blue cheese, the floaty kind of happiness he felt; this sweet, shining bubble surrounding the two of them and this dingy, old-fashioned dorm room. No matter what happened, he would never let go of this.

Part Two

#taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin smut #bts smut #skz smut #taehyung #hyunjin #taehyung x hyunjin #taehyung fic #hyunjin fic

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stcveskent · 3 years

Text

their little miracle; chris evans

pairings: chris evans x reader

warnings: fluff and a bit of swearing

request on wattpad

_____

its been 8 months,since you heard that you would be giving a little miracle of yours and chris, soon. You still remember the day when both of you saw the baby for yhe first time, as it moved around your belly.

you remember how Chris held your hand when he saw your baby, and said, "it's ours" while crying, you remember the day when he found out it was a baby girl, and he was so happy, and when he told his family about it, they were crying too, because their son's dream came true. Since then he never left your side. Well, he haven't announced it on the internet too . He used to talk to your baby, late at nights, when she won't let you sleep, by endless kickings.

"Hey honey, don't do that to Mama." He says, slowly, and calmly as you laid down next to him, and his hands on your belly rubbing it gently.

"I won't leave your side, y/n." He whispered softly and kissed you. During those times, when Chris got intimate with you, for eg, he would kiss you more often, and lay next to you all the time, hold your hands all the time, you used to blush alot, as if it was a school crush, you could say it was the hormones.

"i love you so much." He says and you smile.

"I love you too and more." You reply and he wraps his arm around you, and kiss your head, and then you gasped as soon as your baby kicks you, because you were giving all the attention to her daddy and not her and even daddy didn't give her attention.

"alright baby, i love you too." He says as he keeps a hand on your belly and you laughed at how your daughter already had control over her Dad, even before her birth.

your smile grew wider, as all those thoughts came to your mind, and Chris noticed how you were smiling, and thinking about some things. He smiled looking at how adorable you looked.

"what're you smiling at, sweetheart." He asks as he comes closer, and kisses you gently.

"thinking of how our girl, already has control over her dad." He smiles as he heard you, it was a very different feeling for both of you.

"Well, trust me, the queen has more control than the princess." He says referring to you and you roll your eyes.

"oh stop!" You said as both of you chuckled, just then, to ruin the moment his phone rang. He groaned, and you laughed at him.

"Always messing up my moments, with my queen." He said, and you blushed at how he made you feel so good.

"Chris, i'm sorry to call you now." His manager spoke, as chris answered.

"No its fine, Joshua? what did you need?" He replied.

"Well, the agency has been calling up alot, for your photo shoot, and i tried to decline it, because you wanted to stay with your wife, but they aren't listening , and said you're their hope."

"alright fine! I'll do it."

"ah thank god!! I'll arrange the dates and timing and inform you."

"Alright!" Chris says as he ends the conversation and looks at you, smiling.

"What's wrong?" You asked

"I have to stay away from you for a couple of hours."

"and what would be the reason?" You asked as he sits next to you and pull you closer to him, and you put your head on his shoulder.

"There's this photo shoot they need me to do it and I honestly don't wanna stay away from you, even if its for a couple of hours, you're now close to your date, I can't just leave you here all alone, when you'd need me." He spoke.

"Chris, i'll be fine, you're worrying too much, babe. I can manage on my own, honey!"

"I know you can, i just don't want to be away from you and our daughter." You smiled as he said that, how your daughter's and his bond was so strong.

"babe!!" You squeeled and hugged him and he kissed you multiple times. Just then the phone rings and he groans again.

"Its the agency, i'll have to take it, i'm so sorry!!"

"Its fine, honey." You said and he answered the call, going into the living room to talk while you watched some TV

"Thank you so much, Chris for joining us!" He said and chris smiled.

"The pleasure is all mine!"

"Is there any arrangements we can do for you?" Just as those words left his mouth, he smiles thinking of an idea.

"Yes! Could i get my wife with me? I want her to be next to me."

"Ofcourse sir! It's our pleasure to have her with us, and we can have some couple photoshoot too!"

"Thank you! See you, soon!" He says and walks to you.

Chris comes back to you and tells you that he's made arrangements for you to come with me, you denied at first but he made you to agree to it, typical christopher and then the day comes when you had to go with him. You were nervous about something which he had completely forgot about. Announcing about your little miracle.

As soon as both of you entered, the photographers welcomed you both so warmly, and as expected they were shocked by the news, and they were happy for both of you.

As soon as chris finished his part of the work, you two had to pose together, it was all cute with him, and then the photographer requested that you should have a photo or two of your own with your bump and Chris happily agreed to it.

Just after you completed your work, you told Chris, that now seems to be the right time to tell everyone about it. No , only family and some of his close friends knew about this, so he was just concerned about how his fans and co workers would annouce, but you knew things would fall back into a perfect position.

"I posted it." He said and breathed.

"i did too!" You said and smiled.

Just a second later, yours and his phone were filled with notifications, hundreds to thousands, and all were really happy about it, because all of them understood that this was Chris's dream and you could only turn into his reality.

a week or two has passed, Chris had to go through a lot of press , and interviews where the main interest was your pregnancy. As you waited for him to get over with the last interview for the month, and after that he promised he'd take a break, he comes to you.

"How was it?" You asked as he kissed you and sat next to you.

"It was good, i was happy to tell them, how you made me happy, and they obviously wanted you, but i said you were resting."

"Thank you —*gasps* oh shit!" You said and his eyes came out if his eye sockets.

"Baby what happened?!"

"She's coming omg!! My water broke!!!" You said and he panicked, he was roaming around the house finding the baby bag, and you felt contractions, which were going on for a day which you tried to ignore.

"Chris where the fuck are you?!" You yelled, as the contractions hit you again.

"I found it!! Let's go." He said as he helped you get up and rush you to the hospital, through out the ride he didn't leave your hand, and just made you breathe, but it was true, when you're about to give birth, your temper loses, and poor Chris had to listen.

Now you were in the waiting room, with him and yours and his family started to visit you both.

"Hey!" Your mom said and rushed to hug you as you breathed.

"Hey Mom! I'm good? Are you?" You asked and she laughed at you.

"I know, the temper, i gave birth to three kids!" She said and hugged Chris, and he chuckled and stopped as soon as you gave him a death glare.

"come on! my little girl needs a break, how are you feeling honey?" Your dad says and you roll your eyes.

"P A I N!" You said and then your siblings laugh at you.

"Y/n , for real, you need to calm down, also guess what i already have done half of the preparations for my niece!!" your brother says while your sister argues with him that it was she who did it, and that made you laugh, and Chris smile looking at you.

His mother stayed longer with you but then you told her to go, because she looked tired, and she agreed, time passed and you were ready to deliver the baby, Chris started to breathe heavily, he was nervous, more than you.

"Its gonna be fine, babe!" You said and he nods

"I'll be next to you the whole time." He says and you nod.

Slowly the doctors start to give you instructions to how to push till they count till 10 and you agree to it, clearly understanding their instructions.

"Push!" They said and you pushed while your groaned and your grip on chris's hand tightened.

"You're doing amazing honey!" He encouraged and honestly, that made you stay strong till the end.

Just few more pushes later, the cries of your baby girl were heard and you sighed as both of you burts into tears. They laid your little miracle on top of you as Chris adored both of you, he starts to wipe his tears, and the doctor takes your little girl away.

"No where are you taking her!" Chris says and you chuckled at him.

"they're cleaning her, she'll be back soon, with us." You said and he looked at you with a smile.

"You did so good today!" he says and you smiled at him.

"It wasn't possible without you." You said and he shook his head.

"You're the most strongest women i've ever seen, and how beautiful you look today! Your glowing baby!" He says and you laugh as he pressed his lips onto yours in a sweet and filled with love kiss.

"I love you so much." He says

"I love you more!" You reply and they bring the baby back to you, and Chris holds her, tears falling from his eyes, as he met his daughter.

"She's so beautiful just like her Mama!" He says and you feel your tears falling.

"Daddy loves you and your Mama so much! He'll do everything to protect both of you!" He says as he holds her in his arms and kisses her multiple times on her head.

"Okay now, Mama also needs attention!" You said and he laughed and kissed you again, and just then you met your family, already waiting and excited to greet their grand child, neice and goddaughter.

Yours and Chris's mother couldn't hold back tears and were crying with joy, while Scott hugged you and cried and you were crying because he was crying , which made everyone laugh and later Scott Shanna, Carly and your siblings already started giving suggestions for the baby names for your little miracle.

It was the best day of your life, you for the first time witnessed how one life can bring so much happiness to so many people, and you were only concerned about your husband, who was on cloud 9 because of his happiness and you couldn't stop smiling because of him. You won't be able to forget this day ever!

------

done with your request!!hope you liked it❤️

also, but Daddy!Chris is making me cry😭😭

#andy barber #andy barber fluff #andy barber smut #chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers and reader #nomad steve x you #chris evans angst #chris evans x reader #steve rogers angst #ransom drysdale angst #ransom drysdale fluff

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randomrosewrites · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet Dreams

Every night, your mind is plagued with visions of an old Liyue. She blesses your nights, like a guardian angel, but you never remember her face or name when the sun rises again.

Pairing: Ganyu X GN reader Words: ~5K Warnings/ tags: Memory loss, reincarnation, blood and injury, death, fluff and angst, happy ending, implied sexual content a/n: I never thought much of Ganyu, until I dreamt of her one night (which unspiringly inspired this fic) and now I'm hooked. Patiently awaiting her rerun.

She comes to you in a dream.

You can tell it’s her from the feeling of it. Warm. Comfortable. It loosens your muscles (if you even have muscles in dreams) and puts your mind at ease. It makes you sleepy, wanting to lie down on the soft hills of grass under the shade of a tree to take a nap.

You don’t know exactly where ‘this’ is, whether or not it’s in the fields of your home, Liyue, or some other place. It looks like Liyue, with the craggy mountains behind you, and the bubbling stream running down the hill. But it feels different.

Then, you see her.

You don’t know what – or who – she is exactly, because you can never get a clear view of her. Everything blurs around her body. But you know she’s there, know she’s waiting for you. Sitting in a pocket of empty grass, sounded by glaze lilies, feet tucked underneath her as she naps.

She starts when you approach, uncurling herself to sit up properly. She smiles. She says your name – at least you think it’s your name, it feels like your name – and pats the spot beside her.

You wade through the flowers and sit down, so close to her that your legs are touching. It’s rather close even for friends, but with her, it feels right. How it should be.

She never talks much. For a dream or a vision, she never has much to say. Only whispering in a soft voice about how pretty the flowers are, or how beautiful the day is. The silence is good. A brief period of peace.

(Peace from what? You always wonder when you wake, but no matter how many times you re-enter the dream, you always forget to ask.)

This dream always ends in the same way.

“You should get some rest,” she says.

“What about you?” you always respond, the words feel foreign in your mouth – like they’re not yours.

She shakes her head. “I’ll be alright. Rest, and have peaceful dreams.”

You rest your head in her lap, as you’ve done a thousand times before. Her hand cradles your head, brushing through your hair lovingly.

“Who are you?” “Why are you doing this?” “What is this?” – You always want to ask, but no matter what you try, the words never come out, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth.

Just like every time, your eyes grow heavy, your body grows weak, and you close your eyes, falling asleep once more.

…

When you wake, you’re never in the flowery fields anymore, but in bed staring at the ceiling. The hum of noise vibrates through the wall, employees at the Inn already getting up to do their daily tasks.

You sigh and rub your eyes, rolling around for another ten minutes before finally getting up.

By the time you dress and leave your room, you’ve forgotten all about the dream.

---

“Good morning, Mrs. Goldet,” you great sleepily, rubbing your eyes.

Verr Goldet looks up from the counter and nods. “Good morning, sleep well?”

You give the cat laying on the counter a few scratches. “As good as always. I had a nice dream.”

She blinks slowly. “What did you dream of?”

You turn away, heading out of the doorway to start your chores. “Her. As always.”

As you disappear, Verr Goldet’s brows furrow and she frowns. It dissolves the second a customer walks into the lobby, ready to check in.

---

You’ve been working and living at the Wangshu Inn for a while now. Free room and food for helping out every day, with Sundays off. It’s a good deal.

You do odd tasks around the Inn, helping out in the kitchen, moping the floors whenever travelers track in mud from the marsh – things like that.

Days are spent polishing the balconies, evenings are spent wiping down dinner tables, and you when the moon is high in the sky, you sleep.

And dream.

---

There are many people in the crowd, packed tight together under the hot midday sun. Guili plains is alive in celebration. Booths are set up on either side of the streets, the smell of delicious food wafts through the air, and colorful decorations hang everywhere. You push through them, scanning the sea of heads for a particular person. She’s not hard to miss, but everywhere you turn, she evades your sight. Anxiety begins to bubble in your stomach – the speech will start soon, and you want to be with her when it begins.

A cold hand falls on your shoulder. Turning around, you sigh with relief.

“There you are,” you yell over the noise of the crowd. “I thought I’d lost you.”

She smiles, showing off fresh Qingxin flowers in her hand. “Sorry, I was distracted by a stall. Would you like some?”

You take her free hand and kiss it. A red blush forms on the apples of her cheeks. “They’re all yours.”

Hand in hand, the two of you make your way towards an elaborate stage, raised high above the people, crafted out of rock and decorated with gold. Many people are gathered around, waiting patiently, holding umbrellas to protect from the sun or fanning themselves off with whatever they have. The two of you take your seats just as the theatrics begin.

There’s a cry, and a point of fingers as the audiences’ attention is turned towards the sky. Hailing in rays of light are two of the Adeptus, taking the form of cranes. One of them a gold and orange, the other blue and white.

Cloud Retainer, you’ve heard (?????) call her Adeptus.

They land on stage and spread their wings out in a flourish.

“People of Guili,” Cloud Retainer begins. Her voice ringing out like a crystal bell. “On behalf of all the Adepti we would like to welcome you here.”

“We hope you have all enjoyed the festivities,” the gold and orange bird speaks next. “Today’s celebration marks not only the anniversary of the creation of Guili, but to also pay homage to the warriors that have fought and are still fighting in the ongoing war. Because of the date’s significance, the Lord of Geo and Lady of Dust have decided to bless all of use with their presence.”

The two birds spread their wings once more. Cloud Retainer raises her head high in the air. “People of Guili, I now present to you, the Lord of Geo – Morax and the Lady of Dust – Guizhong.”

At the mention of their Gods, the people break into a round of applause, this only increases when a man and woman appear onstage, and everyone rises to show their respects. They’re both dressed beautifully, in fine silk-robes, adorned with smears of make-up around their eyes. Your goddess looks divine, accepting the praise with a warm smile. Morax, on the other hand, gazes out towards the crowd, sharp gold eyes piercing anything in his sight.

Morax – though you have nothing but respect for him – has always been a bit enigmatic to you. You can’t imagine what your Goddess sees in him. But their companionship has what lead you to become acquainted with her, so you’re not complaining.

Morax steps forth on stage, raising a hand. The crowd goes silent instantly.

“Thank you for the warm welcome,” Morax’s voice is rich and calm. Beside you, your companion is sitting at full attention, gnawing on her bottom lip in anxiety. She startles as you place a hand over hers. She smiles thankfully, some of the tension leaving her, before returning her full attention to the couple on stage.

“This land has seen many years of fighting,” your Lord’s words are wispy yet firm, just like dust being blown through the wind. “Many, many people have suffered at the bloody hands of war. Such heinous acts stain the land red, spreading sorrow on every inch of the earth.”

She gathers a breath, and when she speaks again, her voice is strong, that of a warrior who has fought in battle. “But not here. Guili will be – is – a place where there is respite. It’s the beginning of the future, a future where the monsters of today are nothing but a kids-bedtime story in the future.”

Guizhong touches her chest with one hand, the other extending out towards the crowd. “I make this vow to you now – my precious people – we will fight to protect the lives of each and every one of you. I promise you security, prosperity, and peace. One day, the bloodshed will end, and I promise you, when that time comes, when the dust has finally settled, we will lead you into the new age of Liyue. To this, I swear on the very ground I walk upon.”

There is nothing but pride, joy, and determination emanating from the crowd, applauding the Lady’s finest speech. Even Morax is smiling at her, the small corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

Cool fingers squeeze yours. Looking over, there are tears in your friend’s eyes. She blinks them away, the wind tousling her blue hair.

She’s beautiful. Your heart squeezes painfully as you fight the urge to lean over and kiss her.

You squeeze her hand back, letting all of your hopes, feelings, and things unsaid pool between the two of you.

---

There is an Adeptus at the Wangshu Inn.

You know little of the Adepti, but seeing the boy (being?) in front of you, there’s no doubt in your mind that he is one.

His sharp eyes slide over to meet yours, run up and down your person, before returning to your face, then back to staring at the marsh.

“Sir Xiao?” you ask. “I’ve brought you dinner.”

Xiao doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. You were warned he would be like this - bitterly stubborn and unresponsive.

You settle the plate down by your feet. “It’ll be here if you feel like eating.”

You wait a minute longer, but Xiao doesn’t make a peep. You sigh and turn to go back inside.

“Do you remember Guili?” he whispers suddenly, so quiet you nearly mistake it for being the wind.

You spin around. “Do I what?”

“Guili. Remember Guili.”

“…Remember? It’s an ancient ruin,” your brows furrow as you frown. “I’ve only been there maybe once or twice, passing by.”

A painful second goes by.

“Why, am I supposed to know something about it?”

From what you can see of his face, Xiao grimaces. “Nothing, just – just forget it.”

“You can’t just-”

“I said forget it,” he snaps, his voice cracking at the end of his words. “You don’t – I thought you – ” He rubs his face with his hand, breaths deeply. “It’s nothing. Please just leave.”

He gets up suddenly and leaps from the balcony before you can even speak. Leaving both the tofu and you alone on the balcony, a cold ache spreading through your heart.

---

She’s nervous, you think. Abnormally so.

Jueyun Karst is safe, kept watch over by Morax’s Adepti and the Qilin in the clouds. Only select few are allowed up where you are – (There was a smug steak of satisfaction when Cloud Retainer begrudgingly let you traverse her abode atop the mountains, Ganyu smiling gleefully as she held your hand.) – and even less are allowed to set foot on the sacred lands.

She’s been shifting for the past hour, unable to focus on conversation and jittery. Ever so often, she rubs her hands over her horns in a pacifying motion, then as if realizing what she’s doing, abruptly tears her hands away.

“Is the upcoming battle bothering you?” you ask, finally, not being able to stand her fidgeting much longer.

She stiffens, surprised that she’s been found out, and dips her head in embarrassment. “Oh. No, it’s not that…”

“…Ok. If not that, then what?”

She swallows thickly. She turns to you, taking both of your hands in hers, refusing to meet your eyes.

“I was wondering…I mean I hope,” she starts, nervously. “That after this is over…all of it…that maybe…you’d, um…”

You’re patient, gently prompting her, “I’d?”

“W-well, that we could…?” she trails off, squeezing your hands again. “That this…could be s-something more.”

Oh. Oh.

Your chest heats as you lean forwards, whispering her name to the wind. She squeaks raising her head.

“I like you,” you sigh, unable to stop the loving cadence in your tone when you say it. “A lot. So whatever concerns you have just know that…anything you want is…it’s all good.”

She’s silent for a moment as your heart pounds against your ribs. Slowly, she tilts her head towards yours, resting your foreheads together. Her cheeks are so hot, unlike the cryo vision strapped to her side.

“I like you a lot, too,” she says. “I don’t really have…any…experience with something like this but um…I’d like to try.”

Your heart soars, leaps, and does a flip twice over. You smile so hard your cheeks hurt. “Can I ask you a question, now?”

She blinks, nodding her head.

“May I kiss you?”

She wets her lips with her tongue and nods again, vigorously.

You close the distance, firmly kissing her lips. They’re soft and plush, warmer than you’d imagined. (Because you have imagined this, many, many nights before.) A mix between a gasp and a pleasured sigh escapes her, the noise only heating you up further.

When you pull back, she’s turned three different shades of pink and her eyes are glazed. You rest your head against hers and wrap your arms around her waist, feeling the curves and dips of her body, squeezing at the skin there.

“Good?” you ask.

She nods, tucking her head onto your shoulder. “Mhm.”

At some point, you lie down together, tangled in limbs, listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing and heart beats as Liyue’s night sky sparkles with constellations.

It’s only much later, when you hear the screams, that you realize peace is fleeting in this world.

---

You pant heavily, setting the last box down on the ground and flop on the stairs. Five in total, weighing gods know how much. Each one filled to the brim with legal documents from Liyue Harbor. You had suffered through carrying them one-by-one up the stairs as the elevator had conveniently decided to break this morning.

You push the box with your foot, sliding it with the others against the wall. If this is how much paperwork the Inn gets, you don’t even want to know how much paperwork the Qixing have to deal with. (Then again, it was the Qixing that dictated the laws, so perhaps it was well deserved.)

Verr Goldet had taken one look at them and called it an early day, leaving you to handle closing.

At least your day is done now. You hang the keys up in their proper place, pet the cat goodnight, and begin blowing out the lanterns.

“Um…excuse me?”

The sudden voice startles you, turning towards the entrance. A figure stands in the doorway, silhouetted by the moonlight. You can’t make their identity out.

“Could I speak to Mrs. Goldet? It’s about the recent delivery of paperwork.”

“Mrs. Goldet is away right now; I could take a message?”

The person nods, steps through the threshold, and your mouth goes dry.

She’s tall. Eloquently dressed with hair the color of Glaze Lilies. It frames her face, falling down her back in delicate curls. As you stare, stary eyes blink back at you in shock.

She seems familiar.

“I’m…sorry…” she says, turning away quickly. “I-I’ll just come back tomorrow-”

The tassel of her outfit swings as she does a complete 180. Her hair is furled out, exposing the smooth expanse of her back. The sight sends a throb to your temple, the scene feeling reminiscent of…something.

Your head is aching.

“W-wait!” you reach out and grab her arm, catching on the cuff of her sleeve. The motion rattles the necklace around her neck – no, not a necklace – a bell. The chime crisp like morning frost, soft like the way she feels, like the way she-

Pain bursts from your temples, piercing both sides of your head. You cry, loosing your grip in the process. There’s a muffled yell before the world blurs, spins, and sends you tumbling down, down, down, into the dark.

And then, there’s a hallow nothing.

---

She comes to you in a dream, but Liyue is not as it once was.

There is fire everywhere you look, the ground scorched by flames or destroyed in the aftermath of intense fights. The air is thick with smog, choking you with each gasp you take. One of your legs isn’t working and blood pools through your fingers pressed tightly against your side. You don’t know how much further you can make it.

You hobble through destroyed fields, corpses littering the ground, blood seeping into the earth. All of the glaze lilies are gone, wiped out in the destruction.

You cross the river on one leg. You slip on a rock and lose your footing, collapsing into the water. It’s freezing, the sensation colliding with the burn of your wound. You shiver and suck air through your chattering teeth, dragging yourself using your arms. Your side screams in pain at every pull, black spots dance in your vision. You grit your teeth and dig your fingers into the dirt, pushing forward.

Not yet, you can’t die just yet.

You exhaust yourself at the edge of what used to be the flower field, rolling onto your back and wheezing at the sky. This is as far as you’ll go. Mud soaks through your clothes. You dig your fingers into it, grounding yourself from the searing pain.

You hear the chime of her bell before you see her, crisp and pleasant, soothing your mind. She cries out your name, fear and desperation in her voice. You call back, a cracked, soft groan.

The bell draws closer and she rushes to your side, kneeling in the dirt. Her hair’s a mess, dirty and singed. Her sleeve is torn, blood dripping down her pale forearm. She pulls you onto her lap and rushes to tend to your wounds, pressing a hand to your side. She’s never been a healer, only a fighter. A strong fighter. Stronger than you could have ever hoped to be.

“You’ll be fine,” she says to herself more than you. She nudges you gently. “Please stay awake just a bit longer.”

You take her hand and squeeze it tight. Smiling takes all of the will you have, and even then, it’s weak. “It’s alright.”

She shakes her head. Her eyes – such pretty eyes – wide and filled with tears. “Please don’t go. I can’t…”

“Morax,” you croak. “There’s still him.” Your goddess, Guizhong might be gone, but he’s still alive. As enigmatic as he is, you know she’ll be safe in his care.

“I care about that!” she shouts, for the first time ever, her anger directed at you. “I’m not talking about a god to follow, I’m talking about you!”

She’s sobbing now, her eyes swollen red, teeth clenched tightly through her gasps. She curls around you, fingers grasping at your bloody clothes.

You lean your head into her, offering what little comfort someone dying can offer their partner.

“I’m sorry, Ganyu…” The life is fading from your body, your fingers and toes are so, so cold. “For leaving you like this…”

She gives up on the wound, wrapping her arms tightly around you, burying her head onto your chest, over her heart. Pitiful whimpers leave her mouth, awful sounds that make your heart ache.

“I love you,” she confesses, the words coming out as a sob. “I love you.”

Your heart squeezes. “I love you too, please…”

But the words don’t come. The ache in your side is almost unbearable, growing worse and worse with each shallow breath you manage. You fight to keep your eyelids open, but you’re so tired. And sleep has never been more appealing.

“Rest, now,” she coos, combing your matted hair from your face. You feel the small, delicate press of chapped lips on your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The void calls, gathering you into its arms, wrapping you in a warm bundle; warning you that your time’s up. You fight against it a bit longer, mustering up the last of your consciousness to tell Ganyu – you friend, partner, lover, one final thing.

“Forgive yourself.”

She bites her lip, fresh tears forming in her eyes. She nods. You’re relieved.

Her form wavers, and you know you can’t stay any longer. You let your eyelids close, your breathing slows, and you give yourself to eternal sleep.

…

“Sweet Dreams…” she whispers after a long while, in a soft, saddened voice.

---

You wake up alone, sweating in your bed, in tears, and remember.

---

The climb to Quicing Village is long and straining. You could have taken the path to the west, but stubborn as you were, wanted to save time by scaling the mountain.

You don’t know what drew you to this place, only a tugging at your heart forcing you forward. A firm belief that you’re heading where you need to go.

It’s easier the further up you go. You’ve done this before, in another life, as another person. You remember scaling mountains all the time, just to pick the freshest Qingxin petals for her. You used to eat them together, on the tops of Mount Azjong, legs dangling in midair, watching the birds go by, the wind nipping at your skin.

It’s not long before you reach the top, where the path dips to overlook the village. Fields of red, blue, and yellow stretching over the lands.

You let yourself wander, talking to the villagers as you go. Everyone is so nice, excited to talk to a new stranger in town. The air’s so fresh and the grass is so green, it reminds you of those days in the fields of glaze lilies.

You almost stop breathing when a familiar scent flows by on the wind. Sweet, fresh, cool. One you’re very well acquainted with. You rush forward, running towards the smell faster than your legs can carry you.

She’s sitting in a field of flowers. Just like the ones in your dreams, except there’s only one glaze lily, resting by her knees and cupped in her palms. You slow down and take the stone paths carefully, as to not to disturb the environment.

You stop just behind her, clearing your throat. She startles with a jump, turning around. Your face heats in embarrassment.

“Ah…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Her lips, which are slightly parted, close. She shakes her head. “It’s quite alright…I was just enjoying the day.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

She pauses, then nods wordlessly. You settle down in the grass beside her, a visible gap between the two of you. There are many things you are unsure of. Does she even want you here anymore? Does she just want to forget what happened?

“[First] is your name, correct?” she says eventually.

“Oh – yes, it is.”

She nods, staring out over the river. Another silence befalls you.

“I’ve dreamt of you,” you blurt. “For a while. It comes back in chunks. The memories of my past.”

“That usually happens with reincarnation. The soul is the same but the body and mind doesn’t remember, plagued by shadows of a past life.”

You swallow down your nerves, trying not to focus on how your voice shakes. “In that past life, were we…were we…lovers?”

Her fists clench on her lap. She takes a shaky inhale and nods.

“Oh…” Is all you can say. You knew – know? But to heart it out loud is…

“You look just like you did all those years ago,” Ganyu murmurs sadly. “I’ve never forgotten your face.”

A heavy, hot weight settles in your chest. “How long has it been?”

“Thousands of years…since before the Arcon war,” Ganyu rubs her eyes with her palm. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

You wait until she composes herself before you speak again. “I remember in the past, you asked me to share a future with you.”

Ganyu turns to face you, and desire flares up inside your chest. Dark and powerful, urging you to pull her close and into your arms.

“I did.” She says.

“I’m not…the same person from the past. I don’t know who or how I was, and I don’t know if I’ll ever return to remembering anything. But…”

Cool fingers rest on your lap, you shudder at the touch. Ganyu smiles gently, and there’s a feeling of deja-vu when she says. “But…?”

“But if you’ll have me, I would like – I’d really like to – to try. With you.”

Ganyu scoots to the side, until your thighs are touching, and hums softly. “I think I’d like that, too.”

You let out a shaky, relieved breath and squeeze her fingers tightly. She smells sweet and floral, the scent overwhelming your body, making your head drift and spin. You’ve never smelled anything more right.

“I hope this isn’t rude, but you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

She flushes deeply, smile spreading across her face. “You told me that before, thousands of years ago, when you first met me.”

You smile back, tucking a piece of stray hair from her face. “Well, it’s true.”

---

As much as two immortals (???) might have just rushed back into dating, neither of you wanted that.

You two talked. A lot. About your current lives and past. You talked about Wangshu, about your occupation, about Xiao. (“Don’t mind him,” Ganyu had said. “Xiao’s always a bit cold, even to the other Adepti.”) Ganyu talked about the harbor, about your past lives in Guili.

You might not ever get your memories fully back. But even if you don’t, you feel surprisingly calm and accepting of it.

At the end of the day, after both of your throats were hoarse from conversation and your eyes wet from emotion, you both decided to part ways.

She returns to Liyue Harbor. You return to the Wangshu Inn.

Temporarily, you promised, until you figured yourself out. Liyue Harbor is daunting, the populated streets reminding you too much of Guili, of memories you can’t remember, that make your head ache terribly.

You stay at Wangshu. In the mornings, you mop floors, dust paintings, and help fix the elevator. At evenings, you go to the top floor and eat plates of Almond Tofu with Xiao, staring longingly towards the Harbor.

And at night, when you go to bed, you don’t dream of the past, but of your future.

---

One day, when you return to an empty room, and your heart aches with loneliness and the desire to see her becomes too painful to bear, you decide it’s time to go.

---

Liyue is calm, today.

The clouds drift by idly, whisps of white against blue as birds soar on the random wind currents. The sun shines high in the sky, slowly making its way across the map.

“Stop moving,” you grumble, locking your arms tightly around her, burying your face into her chest.

Ganyu chuckles, carding her hands through your hair. “I’m sorry, did I disturb you?”

“Yes…I was having a good nap.” Which is true. Ever since your reunion, you’ve been sleeping more soundly than you ever have in years. Perhaps it’s because you don’t dream of the old anymore, don’t float through your memories like a puppet being pulled on a string.

“You’ve had enough time to rest, I think,” she says tartly. “Thousands of years’ worth.”

You lift your head and pout. “You’re so cruel,” But your words don’t hold any bite.

Ganyu smiles mischievously. Her hand trails down your spine, drawing a shiver from you. “Do you think it’s unfair? To not indulge me after I’ve waited for you all this time?”

You drag yourself up to be eye level with her. Your hand cups the back of her head, trailing up to the base of her horns. A gasp escapes her lips and her eyes flutter when you tenderly pet them.

“If you wanted my attention,” you whisper, lips an inch from hers. “You could have just asked.”

Ganyu pulls you down by the neck, sighs and gasps being lost to the wind.

---

Much later, when the two of you were sweating and grass was stuck in both of your hair, you lay together, dozing under the night sky. Ganyu lays curled to your side, feet tucked underneath her, a content purr vibrating from her throat. You wonder if all Qilin do that.

As you pet her hair, fingers rubbing curiously over her empty ring finger, a deep feeling of content seeps into your bones.

You’re home, at last.

You kiss her forehead, joining her into a peaceful dream.

#i cant beleive this is so long ganyu my love #ganyu x reader #ganyu x you #genshin impact #ganyu imagines #genshin impact imagines #my writing #genshin impact fanfiction

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eleanorbloom · 3 years

Text

Marry My Lover (Bryce x Eleanor Proposal Headcanon)

A/N: Well, I thought I wouldn't do it because I was too invested with this fic, but I've been thinking adult life is so fucking hard that maybe I'll never find the time and inspo to finish this fic, so... well, why not realease it to the world as headcanon/very-poorly-written-fic. If later I find the inspo, maybe I'll write it, maybe not, but I think posting this will lift a heavy weight off me.

Please forgive me my grammar mistakes and poor english, I mean, I know it's not poor, but I went really basic here, other way I would've never finished writing this lol

Tagging my WYR readers, in case you're interested in reading this @curiousconch @romereadingshop @utterlyinevitable @lahellacute @chocopeppermintcake

Also this is sumbission for @openheartfanfics Weekly Trope Challenge, week 2: Weddings & Proposals (@openheartheadcanons)

Marry My Lover

Bryce had wanted to propose to Eleanor for a while, considering both spontaneous and prepared ways to do it.

One of the first ideas was proposing on a visit to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, as it was the place of their first date. But none of their shifts let them assist for a couple of weeks, so he decided to look for something less complicated.

As he saw their annual meeting with the gang was coming, he decided he would propose on that occasion. Surrounded by friends, the people who helped them get together and supported them in the most difficult times both personally and as a couple.

So he would propose at Donahue’s. With a song, no less. Marry Me by Bruno Mars. A cheerful song, Eleanor loved Bruno Mars and simply matched with the tone he wanted to have on the proposal. Happy and spectacular. He wanted to make her feel the luckiest, most loved woman on earth.

So when he decided what he would do, he shared the news with Sienna so she could help him orchestrate the event. He would arrive a bit later than Eleanor, Sienna would keep her distracted, and then whoop, Bryce would appear at the center of the bar singing the song.

On the day of the meeting, Bryce was in the locker room when he received a text from Sienna: “All set, B! We’re waiting for you”. He breathed deeply, excited and a bit nervous at the same time.

They had talked about marriage, about a life together thousands of times, but it was different just taking the step and doing it, of proposing marriage. Marriage. Damn.

But at the same time, it was just a confirmation of the love they had for each other. Their love that had grown exponentially, to unknown highs and depths in the three years they had been together, and he was sure that their love would keep growing and getting stronger with each day.

After getting ready, he texted Keiki: “Hey Keiks, are you there already?” “Oh, yeah, hidden in the parking lot, super spy.” “Awesome, I’m coming out of the locker room I’ll be there in five” “Okay”

Bryce didn’t want her to miss it for the world. Keiki would kill him if he let that happen. Luckily for both Bryce and Keiki, she was studying close to home, more than close. Cambridge. BS in Physics at MIT, so as she was living just a few minutes away from Boston, they saw each other pretty regularly, once a week or once every two weeks depending on how busy the three were.

Keiki was excited about it, but there was just this strange smirk on her. Bryce thought it was just the fact that her brother would propose to Eleanor at last.

Once at the bar, he greeted their friends, Elijah, coming from Chicago, Jackie, from Baltimore, and Sienna coming from New York. Aurora was the only one living in Boston, working at Brigham and Women’s Hospital as attending and part of the new Diagnostic Team there.

Everyone was happy but at the same time with this strange smirk, like they were hiding something.

“And Elle?” he asked.

A few moments after the question was made, a guitar started to play. He looked at the center of the bar, and found Eleanor, on a yellow dress, and matched hatband playing guitar and singing: We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January And this is our place, we make the rules And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

Bryce couldn’t believe his eyes. His ears. His skin. How a shiver ran down his spine, making tingle every inch of him; how his stomach fluttered at the sight of her there, beautiful and singing and… Surprising him.

It was Lover by Taylor Swift, because, how not, his girlfriend was a Swiftie since High School, so once a Swiftie, always a Swiftie.

Bryce knew almost every song of the last two albums she had released in the last couple of years because they had blasted the speakers of their home for weeks. Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? Forever and ever, ah Take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my lover

After singing the chorus, Eleanor handed the guitar to Rafael, who continued with the melody, and took the mic in one hand, singing the second verse as she started walking slowly towards him. We could let our friends crash in the living room This is our place, we make the call She took his hand on hers and softly pulled him to the center of the bar

And when Eleanor sang “And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you”, both chuckled knowingly, because they knew how true that was, wherever he goes, he enchants.

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

It had been three summers indeed and nor he or she couldn’t imagine a summer without each other.

Eleanor kept singing, every word with meaning, it was like the song was written for them, especially “I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover” Because who else on this planet was a magnetic force but him?

Bryce was beaming the whole song, smiling, laughing, biting his lip, showing how happy, flattered, incredulous and in love he was.

He couldn’t believe his luck. To this day, after more than three years, sometimes he still couldn’t believe he had the chance to love so much and be so loved. So happy, so free, so understood. And he would probably live this luck, this love, forever and ever with her.

When the song ended, Eleanor took out something from the pocket of her yellow dress. A velvet box. When she opened it, a silver ring with a diamond at the center shined under the multicolor lights of the bar. Eleanor took his hand in hers and kissed his knuckles softly before asking: “Bryce Lahela, mi amor, we both know we want to spend the rest of our lives together. In these three years you have made me nothing but happy. The happiest luckiest woman alive. I want that for the rest of our lives. Would you marry me?”

“Yes,” he said, eyes sparkling, shining so bright with emotions, with love, with adoration, with happiness, “Yes, babe, yes! The only thing I want is to spend the rest of my life with you!”

Everyone cheered, Sienna was crying, Kyra too, and even Keiki had shed a tear.

Eleanor put a ring on his finger and both kissed sweetly in the middle of the bar.

After a few moments, Bryce kissed her hand and chuckled, “Well, now it’s my turn.”

Eleanor stared confused at him, and when she heard him shouting “Música maestro!” she understood.

Eleanor couldn't believe it either. When the notes of Marry Me by Bruno Mars started playing, she covered her mouth with her hands just like Cecilia Bolocco when she won Miss Universe in 1986. “No way, love!” she squealed.

After a few verses, Bryce took her hand and turned her to the wall, where a video was playing. Videos of colleagues, nurses, even patients, with thumbs up singing along “Don't say no, no, no, no, no, Just say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah” Then, her parents showed up in the video, beaming as they sang along too. Even her grandparents from Chile, Ricardo and Ofelia, appeared in the video asking the same.” “Oh my god,” Eleanor couldn't hold it anymore and simply let the tears fall. Tears of joy, of happiness.

Then Bryce started to walk around the bar, singing with a persuasive tone, asking the patrons to join him in his singing, as if he had to convince her to marry him. Friendly patrons would nod and show their thumbs up and sing along for a couple of seconds.

Once the song ended, Bryce bend on one knee and took the velvet box out of the pocket of his pants, where a beautiful rose gold ring was there, with a round diamond at the center and smaller at the sides. “Well, you won me. This was my idea too, but you were faster, or maybe you had friends who took your side and decided to help you instead of me.” Everyone chuckled. “Or maybe she just asked before you did,” Jackie teased. “Either way, I’m honored and flattered, but I couldn’t miss the opportunity to propose to you. I mean, I’ve dreamed about this day practically since I met you.” “Awww, mi amor.” “I want all summers with you and all winters, especially winters so you can keep me warm on snowy nights.” Eleanor giggled, her eyes full of tenderness, “Of course, my love. Summer, fall, winter, spring, all of the seasons and all of the years I have left on this planet.” “Good. And you, Eleanor Andrea Bloom, would you marry me?” “Yes, my love, mi amor, sí, sí, yes!” Bryce put the ring on her finger, and again, people cheered and clapped. Keiki and Jackie whistled.

When Bryce and Eleanor got off the stage, the gang approached them, filling them with congratulations and hugs, and just love for the happy, recently-engaged couple. they disclosed how everything had happened -Eleanor indeed had asked help first, she had been practicing guitar for more than a month with the help of Rafael.

After a while, Bryce took Eleanor’s hand and led her to a quiet place so they could have a moment for themselves. They smiled and laughed without saying anything, still processing what had happened and trying to understand the happiness they were feeling. their hearts were simply overflowing with happiness and love. “You know? I can say people, mostly women, have asked me a lot of things in my life, some of them shocking, some of them rather cute, but never had a woman proposing to me, so this is a first. You're definitely a keeper.” “Oh, that's why you're agreeing to marry me?” she asked, feigning offense. “One of the four hundred million reasons, babe.” Eleanor smiled pensively, earnest, “You deserve everything, my love, everything. And that includes being proposed, because, damn, we’re too far from gender stereotypes and toxic masculinity.” “I agree.” “And because I really wanted you to know that I wanna marry you, and spend the rest of my life with you, just as much as you do.”

Completely spellbound by the sincerity of her love, now and always, Bryce simply bit his lip and leaned to plant a sweet kiss on her lips.

There was nothing else to do but be happy.

____

Ps: Here pics of Bryce and Eleanor engagement rings. I had the idea of a collage, but it would've also taken me a day to finish it, lol sorry

Thank you for reading! ❤

#bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #bryce x mc #open heart #playchoices

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fangirlings-things · 4 years

Text

Ocean Eyes I

OCEAN EYES MASTERLIST

Word count: 3.9K

SET ON 5x12

A/N: guyssss here is the first chapter!!! i want to thank you all for the positive feedback, the comments and reblogs, likes thank youuu so much!!! hope you guys like the beginning of this story, love love love 💖

tag list: @castielsangelsx ; @ritual-unions-gotme ; @freckled-lass ; @irrelevantyettopicalusername ; @charming-merlin ; @pieces-by-me

Vikings tag list: @maggiescarborough ; @charmingvalkyrie

TAG LIST IS OPEN || ALL GIFS USED IN HERE BELONG TO ME

─━─━─「⊱✠⊰」─━─━━─━─「⊱✠⊰」━─━─

They were brought in by the guards in a group of four. Two women at the middle and two tall men, the sons of Ragnar, at the edges.

From your spot, close to one of the great walls alongside with your mother, Judith, and your brother, Aethelred, you took it upon yourself to analyze all of them as you tried to calm down your heart, that was beating incredibly fast inside your chest.

It had been like that ever since the moment Alfred had gone to your chambers, to tell you that he had made a decision regarding the Northmen and that he had a plan. He knew what to do. Although in fear, you trusted your brother. More than anything or anyone in the whole world.

And also, your grandfather had prepared him to make tough decisions like that one. He had given Alfred his every ruling knowledge, the wisdom of a great King. If someone could ensure your family prevailed, that person was Alfred.

"I am aware of who you are" Alfred's voice filled the great hall. On the throne, with Bishop Heahmund standing by his side he looked a lot like Ecbert, when he used to make announcements with Bishop Edmund's Christian council. "I'm not foolish enough to not recognize your potential for my kingdom" just like you, he ran his eyes through the four of the Northmen as he spoke. Not in threat, but respect. "If you were willing to fight with us against the armies of your countrymen"

After hearing your twin brother's words, the men who was closest to where you were standing, Ubbe, the son of Ragnar, smiled and looked at the ground with a silent laugh escaping his lips. That disturbed you, made you feel even more worried about what Alfred would try to do, what agreement he would propose to them.

As if he had sensed your intense stare, the man, Ubbe, turned his head slightly and fixed his eyes right back at yours, in retribution for your own gaze. His eyes were blue. So deeply blue.

"We may" Bjorn Ironside spoke for the first time at the other edge of the group and that broke the eye contact you and his brother were exchanging. You swallowed hard because of how nervous that look had made you feel. "On the condition, that you allow us to settle in the part of East Anglia King Ecbert gave to us"

Aethelred huffed, and you wished to hit him for that, having a second reason to apologize for afterwards. Bjorn Ironside's tone was already threatening enough and worthy of caution. You all did not need him to think he was being disrespected.

Luckily enough, the Northmen did not notice that.

"I have every intention of honoring my grandfather's pledges" Alfred made that very clear to the blond man, clenching at the throne's arms like they were his support. You admired him. To have such coldness and calmness to deal with the same people who had killed thousands of Englishmen before, that was something worthy of admiration. "But first you must demonstrate your worth and your loyalty to our cause in battle"

Exactly like Ubbe had done before, Bjorn Ironside laughed and looked down at his feet, licking his lips in something that came close to amusement. Again, it made you worried. More than you already were. If they did not accept the deal Alfred was offering, their fate would be prison or death. And even though the sons of Ragnar were at war, you doubted that absolutely no one would seek revenge for them. That was the way with them.

"We have the legal right to that land" Bjorn raised his eyes again and they pierced Alfred like blades, such was the ferocity in them.

You knew what your grandfather had done in the past to his people. How he had killed all the people in the settlement he had gave them to live in peace. How he betrayed Ragnar and Lagertha's, the older woman who now stood in that hall, trust. You knew that in the verge of his death, your grandfather was not proud of that decision. Perhaps he did not regret it, but he for sure resented it. So, as much as it cost you to admit, you understood Bjorn Ironside's clear doubt in your brother's words.

"We accept your offer" Lagertha surprised everyone by saying it.

Instantly all the eyes in the hall were on her. Bjorn Ironside and Ubbe turned their heads to her and Bjorn mostly, seemed angry by her jumping to decisions, especially one that seemed too reckless as to trust again, a King of Wessex. And although they clearly did not agree with her, both of the men did not argue and she did not pay them any attention. She made the decision and they accepted it. You could not help but admire her determination and influence over them.

"I am glad" Alfred sighted, in relief. You knew very much your brother was not someone who supported violence or the wrongs of people in the past. Although he had been raised by your grandfather, he was not Ecbert. He would not make the same mistakes or break his promises. And although you did resent Ragnar's sons for your grandfather's death, you felt relief as well for that deal. They had wanted to avenge their father, that you could understand. But still, the pain of your loss made it difficult to acknowledge it out loud. "It was Bishop Heahmund who proposed this solution which seemed to me wise"

Slowly and respectfully, Heahmund turned his head a bit and nodded in Lagertha's direction, a sign of respect and duty. She did the same to him. And even though their movements were stern and cold, you could swear you saw a spark in both of their eyes. Something hidden there, carefully.

"So" Alfred regained his speech and that made you stop paying attention to the woman and the Bishop. "As long as we are allies and friends you are free to use the royal villa as you wish" at the back of the hall, you saw some of the Lords who were a part of the Witan, exchanging horrified looks. "My servants are also your servants. My kitchens and cellars are there for your use. I believe you have two young children with you"

That, made you turn your head completely and focus on your twin. He had not told you about that. The thought of young children in the cells of the palace, cold and hungry, made your stomach twist and shame take the whole of your being.

The other woman, the one who had not spoken at all since they had been brought before the King, nodded her head confirming his words. Instantly, for the look in her eyes, you knew she was the children's mother.

"Let us have a care for them also" Alfred stated and the woman's face seemed to light up gratefully like she had just received the best news in the world.

"Thank you, Lord King" she said with the utter most respect.

Alfred turned his head to the corner of the room and with one of his hands, made a sign for one of the guards to step forward. "We have fought against you and now we shall fight together, with you" he said as the guard started to take out the Northmen's chains and release them. "I know my grandfather King Ecbert would approve for I know the love he bore King Ragnar"

At your grandfather's mention, you could not help but feel a sharp emotion run through your whole being. Your eyes got blurry and a tear streamed down your face. Your mother looked at you discretely but did not say a word, just smiled tenderly. You looked down at your feet and cleaned the tear with your fingertips, taking a deep breath to regain your posture. When you looked up, you saw that Ubbe was looking at you again. He had clearly seen you crying and it angered you.

You did not want to seem weak in front of them.

Without any other words, the Northmen were dismissed and left the great hall. Alfred watched them leave, getting up from his throne and taking a few steps forward. All the eyes were on him.

"Can I trust them?" Alfred asked as soon as the Northmen left the hall and the doors were closed behind them.

"You can trust Lagertha" the Bishop answered almost instantly, because he knew the question had been made to him.

Alfred nodded and started to walk away. Before he could though, Heahmund called for him to solve one more matter. As they discussed it, you felt your mind slip further away by every instant passed.

"If you would excuse me, my King" you bowed to your brother and only after he nodded, giving you permission to leave, you turned away and did so.

─━─━─「⊱✠⊰」─━━─━─━─「⊱✠⊰━─━─

You walked through the corridors of the palace, one long corridor after the other, looking for Alfred. You had just met his soon to be wife and she seemed to be a good person, so it gave you some joy. At your mother's request, you had the responsibility to take Alfred to meet her as soon as possible.

You had already searched his chambers and others rooms, but did not have any luck. So, your feet got you to the corridor on the south side of the palace, which lead to a room you knew Alfred liked to be in sometimes. The view from the windows calmed him, he always said.

"Brother, are you here?" you opened the doors and entered the room. As soon as you did so, you regretted it. Alfred was there, but not alone. Bjorn Ironside and Ubbe were with him and the tension in there was anything but calm. All their eyes fell upon you and you sighted for your own stupidity. You should have assumed he would be settling matters with them regarding the new alliance. "I am sorry to interrupt"

"(Y/N), what is it?" Alfred interrupted the matter to give you attention. To him, there was nothing more important than you.

"The Lady is here" you said and he understood of whom you were talking about. Ubbe and Bjorn Ironside just stayed silent, both of them with their eyes still on you. You did not stare back to any of them.

"If you just wait for a moment, sister, I will accompany you and go meet her" he suggested and pointed to an empty chair on the other side of the table, across from him. You nodded and just when you sat down at that chair, he looked at Ubbe. "Please, continue"

It took a moment for the son of Ragnar to speak and risking a quick glance, you saw that he was looking at you. As soon as your eyes met his though, he averted his quickly like you were intimidating. That made you frown.

"Now, you are the King" Ubbe slapped Alfred in the arm with a forced smile on his lips and walked towards a near smaller table, grabbed a writing quill and ink and placed it in front of Alfred, next to a document you assumed to be the one that 'proved' the Northmen's claim to East Anglia's lands. You knew that was a lie, also. Your grandfather had already given the crown to your father, Aethelwulf, when he signed the document and therefore, had no legal right to give them those lands. "So, you can sign it over to us and you can grant us those lands right now"

You noticed how Alfred sighted heavily. "In theory, yes, I could"

"What does that mean?" Bjorn Ironside raised his hands in the air, exasperated. You had to admit that he scared you. A simple word said in a higher tone by him made your heart beat faster.

Alfred placed one of his elbows on the table and leaned towards the blond. "There are important people here who do not want me to grant lands to those who in the past, have attacked and raided us"

"So why would we fight for you when everything you say is just a lie?" Ubbe placed his hands on the table between his brother and Alfred, the expression on his face made you wish to tell your brother to have caution.

"I am not lying" Alfred turned to him with a expression as serious as the Northmen's. "I am being more honest with you than you have any right to expect!" he looked at Bjorn and then back at Ubbe. He seemed so strong, facing the older men as an equal in strength, that you felt a burst of proud run through you. "You have thrown yourself upon my mercy. So, do not presume anymore upon my charity" he got up from his chair and you instantly did the same. "When I can, I will grant you that land. In the meantime, I must go and meet my future wife"

So together, you and Alfred left the room. The both of you could sense the Northmen's eyes burning holes in your backs.

─━─━━─「⊱✠⊰」─━━─━─「⊱✠⊰」─━─━─

"I think what troubles Bjorn Ironside the most is that he lost the war against his younger brothers" with arms crossed over your chest and your back against the wall behind you, yours eyes were on the ground beneath your feet as you thought deeply about the last few days where everything had changed.

"Yes, I can see that. But I suppose we cannot blame him for having suspicions about us. Our grandfather betrayed them in the past" Alfred had his eyes sat on the fireplace, thoughts lost in the flames. "I really wish this alliance to work, my dear sister"

"Me too" you said but noticed that Alfred had fixed his eyes on your face and searched for something hidden in there. "What is it?"

"I thought you would not want them here. Because of grandfather and what the sons of Ragnar did. Honestly, I wondered if you would support Aethelred if he suggested we should punish them" he admitted, and the supposition made you shrug.

"I thought about it" the fire, crackling, was the second sound in the room behind your voice. You could feel the cold of stones in your back through the thin cloth of your dress. "But our grandfather was not perfect like I thought when we were just children. He made mistakes. He should not have handed Ragnar Lothbrok to King Aelle. He should not have killed those poeple in the settlement he promised to leave in peace. How can I blame Ragnar's sons for seeking revenge for such things?"

"I am glad you think so. I share your opinion on the matter and that is why I wanted you to be here, not mother or our brother" Alfred opened up a smile to you.

His statement made you frown. "Why would you want me to be here?"

"We are expecting a visitor right now. I sent one of my men to bring him here. You are very wise, my sister, so I will need to hear your advice on this as much as he wil" Alfred's eyes went back to the flames.

"What visitor, Alfred?"

Before he could answer, the doors of the room were opened and Ubbe walked in, seeming unsure if he should keep on walking or not. He looked around, saw no one but you and your brother and the confusion and uncertainty on his face seemed to grow by the instant.

But he walked towards you both anyway, stood a few feet away as Alfred turned around and like you, placed your eyes on the Northmen. You found yourself struggling to look away from the son of Ragnar. Again.

During the earlier feast, your eyes had met his many times, for no reason at all. When you would look, he would already be looking. When you were looking and he would notice, you turned away quickly to try to distract yourself. There was just something about him. He was not like Bjorn Ironside, with all his anger. Nor like Ivar, whom you had met when you were just a little girl. There was something different and intriguing about him. Captivating, even. Not that it did make you trust him, though.

"You asked to see me" he frowned at Alfred, joining his hands in the front of his body casually.

"Yes" Alfred quickly agreed. "Please, sit" he pulled the chair at the table a little back and motioned for Ubbe to sit. Still suspicious, the Northmen did not move, just sighted. Alfred accepted the defeat by clearing his throat. "Some wine?" he poured some into a cup and helding it in hand, turned back at Ubbe. You just stayed still and waited as you did not know what was happening. "I think your brother Bjorn has set his heart against me"

"He feels..." Ubbe started, thinking about it for a moment. Then shrugged. "betrayed"

"I understand that. But what can I do? It was not of my doing" Alfred averted his eyes for a moment and sighted. "And for the time being it is not easy for me to grant you those lands. Many are against it"

"So what are we supposed to do?" Ubbe questioned, still not seeming to see the point of that private reunion of the three of you.

"A consilium" you spoke, having finally understood where Alfred was going with that sudden meeting. It made sense. He knew that alone, against the two of you, Ubbe would more easily see reason. Ubbe's eyes were on you in that moment, and your arms fell to the sides of your body graciously as you walked closer to the both of them. "You could publicly renounce your pagan gods and be baptized as a christian"

Ubbe seemed shocked, by the way his gaze kept holding yours until the point he averted his eyes and sighted. "I can't imagine Bjorn would ever agree to that" he turned away to leave, but Alfred stopped him.

"I am not talking about Bjorn, but about you" Alfred's tone was stern enough to make Ubbe turn back around and stare at the both of you. Motioning for the wine, he came closer. Alfred poured a second and third cup. One he gave to Ubbe and the other, to you. "You do that for me, Ubbe, and a part of my burden is lifted. Ragnar talked to me and my sister when we were children. He talked about your people and my people sharing the land"

"And we think that of all of his sons, you are the closest to him" you said and you saw Ubbe swallow hard, as if the comparison made him proud about himself.

Alfred nodded in agreement to your words. "He told our grandfather that he no longer believed in your gods"

The expression in Ubbe's face changed, and he raised his cup in the air and towards your brother's face. "That is not true"

"Our grandfather told us everything" you spoke again, wanting to take that dangerous attention away from Alfred. "He wanted to prepare us, especially my brother, for times such as this" as the words left your mouth Ubbe put the cup down, and a calmer expression took a hold of his features. "He loved your father, we know that. Your father's death broke him"

"Destroyed him" Alfred completed and in that moment as in many others, you two were working in perfect sinchrony.

Ubbe took a deep breath and leaving his cup at the table, got up and came closer to Alfred and stared deep into his eyes. Afterwards, he did the same thing to you. Stepped so close you could almost feel his hot breath on your skin. But you did not look away or step back, no. You looked up to meet his eyes and held his gaze for as long as he wished to.

"I will need time" he finally stepped back, and only then you allowed yourself to breathe again. Your heart was racing inside your chest like the most scared of horses. "to think about what you have told me"

"Of course. And (Y/N), please will you take Ubbe to the chambers the servants have prepared for him and his people?" Alfred suggested and it surprised both you and the son of Ragnar a lot. Your bother smiled reassuringly at you, he had indeed, told you earlier where he would place the small group of the Northmen. And then, he turned to Ubbe. "Your wife Torvi and the others will already be there, I also asked for some extra food to be delivered, for the children"

"Thank you" Ubbe motioned his head towards Alfred to show his gratitude, then turned to you. "My Lady" it was the first time he spoke directly to you and the respectful tone of his voice, actually made you give him a little smile.

"Please, follow me" you took the front and walked out of the room, Ubbe following you closely behind.

Once in the corridors, you two walked side by side in completele silence. Honestly, you did not know what you could say. You were certain Alfred had made you do this because he wanted you to see if Ubbe would probably accept the consilium, or if he would deny it. You had always been good in reading people. But still... how should you question such a man?

"Can I trust Alfred's word?" Ubbe said, speaking so suddenly that you stopped walking in surprise. The torches lit the corridor just enough to cast shadows on his face and when he also stopped walking and turned to fix his gaze on you, you suddenly realized that you two were completely alone in there. Just you and him.

"Yes, of course" you stated, surprised by the sudden question. You thought the way to his chambers was going to be totally made in silence.

You motioned to start walking again, but he stepped in your way, keeping you from going. Before you could say anything, the Northman's hands were closed around your forearms. Your eyes widened, but you were so shocked that no words left your mouth. His grip was not tight or bruising. It was almost gentle, as his fingetips just laid in your dress, not clenched at it.

Holding you, Ubbe got closer and closer until your chests were almost touching. He looked down at you, as you had to look up to meet his eyes. There was a real question in his expression, hesitation that he seemed to wish to let go. "King Ecbert said my father could trust him and he was lying. So I am asking you, my Lady, if I can trust Alfred. If I do this, become a Christian, will he grant me those lands and let my people live in peace?"

"My brother is not my grandfather" you said a few moments later, when you finally were able to regain your voice. His proximity gave you chills. You saw the doubt in his eyes. "I promise you, this settlement will not end as the other did"

He must have seen the honesty in your expression. The urgency in your voice. His hands slowly let go of your arms and for some reason you missed the warmth of his hands upon your dress.

You did not exchange more words, you just led the way to his chambers and wished him and his family a goodnight of sleep.

In your chambers, later, you felt extremely tired.

Before you fell asleep, the last thing you thought about were Ubbe's eyes. Intense blue eyes. So alive, so captivating.

Those ocean eyes.

#imagine #x reader #fanfic #imagines #vikings #vikings imagine #history vikings #vikings fanfic #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe x reader #ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe fic #ubbe lothbrok imagine #ubbe ragnarsson x reader #ubbe ragnarsson imagine

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slasherwife · 4 years

Note

hey hey hey ✨ how are you? ♥ ️me? new request hihi so i'm good. Why not a fic with either Loki or Geralt where after a long time they meet Reader again, but each thought the other was dead pwease ♥️✨

“My Heart Returns...”

LokixReader

by jena marie

Summary:

Reader and Loki reunite after several years of thinking one another were dead. Warnings: mention of suicide, extreme angst, death, but fluffy ending uWu.

thank you so much for sending in requests @seutarose pLEASEE send in more! i’m so bored haha 😊💜💜🌸🌸

I wrote one for Loki since dis boi has only one fic so here you go!! 💕💕💕💕 it’s kinda itty bitty long (i kinda went crazy XD) but i hope you like it!

It was like an eternity without passion. Without affection, caring for nothing. His eyes, empty. Lips, always open yet never moving. His gaze was the stare of a snake, piercing yet flat— like he stared right through anyone who dare to draw his gaze. Empty as he was, the only person who could ever really make him talk was his dear brother. Thor visited him regularly, which was at the cottage on the beach where Loki and his love were supposed to live, undisturbed and peaceful. He built it before returning to Asgard, where he fought his older sister and escaped with Y/n. She was put in a different ship, but he sent messages about the cottage that they would live in with great joy and compassion.

The first stage of Loki, a troubled, timid, yet calculating boy turned man. The second, overturned with greed and envy, pushed to torture and murder and take. Then the third. It was born out of an image that Y/n had saw in him. As she described him, he was nothing short of an angel, composed out of pure light. Because what Loki let her see, he never revealed to others. He was only ever kind to her, only ever a gentleman to her. Only ever himself with her. Vulnerable. He saw what she was— something innocent, capable, maybe naive, but could see nothing but love and kindness in every person’s eyes. If anything, she was the angel. Even from her first breath, she was so sweet. He didn’t know where she came from, it was like he was manipulating his family, and betraying his people, and all the sudden this woman with a soul woven from flower-petals and diamonds, and galaxies for bones came into his life and loved him like he was the only thing that mattered. In what world, what universe or dimension is that sensible?

Now she’s buried somewhere. Thanos, tearing through the galaxies and stars came to where she was put, taking care of the old folks and children on a separate ship, and demanded her an answer to every question he asked. He knew about Loki’s lover, since Thor and Frigga couldn’t shut up about her since they found out she was courting the prince of Asgard. They made sure everyone knew, which was of course before Thanos was even heard of within a 20000 light-year radius.

She was cooperative. Not warm, not kind, but cooperative. That was until he asked where Loki was. Her lips were open, ready to answer, but then she closed them.

Five minutes of more refusing silence passed, and she was dead on the floor. Blood pouring from her back as her skin whitened and her eyes paled.

It was something Thor never wanted to tell him, but he found out anyway. No man or woman wants to hear what Loki did that day.

Then Thanos found where Loki was anyway.

All she remembers is waking up in a field of yellow flowers, and being immediately comforted. But if she remembers further, she also recalls hearing a piercing cry, a scream. Loki’s scream in a void of darkness, before opening her eyes against the sun of the tulip field.

Then, waking up in the field. She was on Earth, and she asked everywhere of what had happened to the ship set off for Earth, a few hundred light years away. No one knew. And it never arrived. That only meant one thing. Her love was lost. Without a proper funeral, he was gone.

She stayed on Earth for several months, like a tortured and lost soul, waiting for someone who she couldn’t name.

It was like she could still feel him, feel that he was close. Yet the truth kept punching her in the gut whenever she felt hope.

That was, until she saw him. Thor had come to visit her grave. He reasons that he never brought up your name in his presence, let alone suggest that Loki visit your grave— because when he even spoke of you indirectly, his eyes twist into complete agony. His expression as if someone had lit him on fire. He missed you indefinitely, irrevocably, and so immensely that every second of the day was misery. The only reason he didn’t end his life was because he wanted to stay strong for you, and it was hard.

Thor watched, thinking that he was hallucinating, seeing her grave dug up and her casket empty. He went searching, and found Y/n by a lake, having lost a lot of weight, only fed by berries and grass. Her dress was torn, caked with mud. And yet, her beauty still glowed like the brilliance of a thousand suns.

They embraced, and Thor took her to Loki after she had washed and put on a new dress.

The joy and relief was unexplainable. The flowers in her bones were immortal, ever glowing and ever living.

Loki opened the door to their home he had built with his own hands, and he saw his heart and soul standing in front of him, looking up at him with those e/c eyes, with wonder and love. She broke seeing him, and it was like her body had a mind of its own. She practically threw herself at him, sobbing with her arms wrapped firmly around his neck. He was stunned. In shock. His heart returned to him. Loki saw that the moment they saw each other for the first time in years. He almost went into a panic attack, smelling her scent and feeling her soft hair under his chin. He was hyperventilating, eyes wide, running his hands all over her squeezing her tightly with tears in his eyes. He didn’t know what to do.

He thought he was having another hallucination, and yet couldn’t convince himself. She was iridescent. Years and years and years of pent up despair and loneliness spilled out in that moment. Tears spilled endlessly the first hour, and she clung to him like he was her lifeline.

Once they made their way inside and the tears were gone, they held each other for hours. No words, just touch. Her face was buried in the crook of his neck, and he was wrapped around her in a giant teddy-bear hug. The sun went down and they slept like that.

In the morning, they started to talk. Small things. Simple things. They were confessing their love for one another like there was no tomorrow. And so much touching but a little toned down than the day before. Not sexual in any way, just pure love.

They never looked at each other the same way again. If you thought he looked at her sweetly before the incident, this is nothing compared to that. His eyes fill with nothing but hearts as his eye brows arch and his heartbeat picks up. They’re always touching when around each other. Good luck getting him to focus when she’s around.

They seemed to never leave their cottage. Loki was glad there weren’t any people around, because he wanted her gaze all to himself. They walked along the shore, talking endlessly about anything and everything, laughing, kissing, hugging. They put every love story to shame. They weren’t seen for months, and yet they were so happy with each other that they didn’t care that they were practically shutting everyone else out.

But above all, when Loki heard that Y/n was dead, he died with her. But when he saw her again, it was like his own soul was hiding, buried underneath empty liquor bottles and painkillers. All the torture was washed away, like it never existed.

And now he can talk with passion again. He can care about things. He can think. He can live, laugh, and love with her by his side, forever.

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msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years

Text

Never Gonna Lose You

Summary - Even with Chuck's danger hanging over the heads of the Winchesters and the Reader, preparations for Dean and Reader's wedding start in the bunker

Pairing - Dean x reader, Sam x reader (platonic)

Warning - Fluff, just pure tooth rotting fluff (yeah ik it's highly unlike me) and maybe a bit of swearing

Word Count - 1.5k

A/N - This is the sequel to Don't Wanna Lose You as requested by @miss-nerd95 (I finally wrote it)

This is the first time I have attempted to write a fic with a wedding ceremony in it so I hope it turns out okay. (Also if there is any rule wrong in the wedding ceremony, please let me know because I wrote the rules of the ceremony after I saw it on the internet and from movies).

Spn divider by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89 (if you can, check out her blog. She is so good)

"Hey! I came back to the bunker to find it empty. Where were you both?"

You were trying your best to stop the large smile that was threatening to spread on your face.

"We were uh..out", you gave Sam an innocent smile.

"Oh no. No I don't want to hear about my brother's sex life", Sam scrunched up his face in pure disgust.

"Get your mind out of the gutter Sammy because we have some news", Dean said with a stupid grin on his face.

"Please don't tell me Y/N's pregnant because I can't handle a mini Dean right now in the bunker", Sam said.

"What no! I am not pregnant-"

"We're getting married!" Dean declared proudly.

"What? That's great! Congratulations you guys", Sam literally ran towards you both and pulled you and his brother into a bone crushing hug.

"That's enough Sam", Dean groaned.

Sam let go of you both, "So when's the wedding? Where's the ring? Show me the ring".

"When did you become so girly Sammy?" Dean teased Sam which resulted in him getting a glare from the younger hunter.

"I'm just very excited for you both. Welcome to the Winchester family, Y/N. I am very happy for you Dean but Y/N not really, you could have done a lot better", Sam smirked.

"Ow", Sam yelped when his brother smacked his head.

"So when's the wedding? Did you tell Cas and Jack? Where will be the wedding?" Sam started to fire different questions at you.

"Hold your damn horses, Sammy. I don't know when's the-"

"We are getting married next week," Dean said, cutting you off mid-sentence which made your eyes go wide.

"Next week?" You exclaimed, "Dean are you crazy? We can't get married next week! There is so much to do! It's a goddamn wedding! Decorations, dress, catering - are you out of your mind, Dean Winchester?"

"We'll manage, sweetheart. It will be fine," Dean tried to assure when he saw you had already started panicking.

And damn did he make sure it was fine. The week went by a blink of an eye. With every passing day you were growing more anxious even though Dean did his best to make this the perfect wedding.

Growing up as a hunter, you never thought marriage was in your cards. You always thought that you would be long dead even before you meet the man of your dreams but it all changed when you met Dean.

Your meeting with Dean was out of pure luck. Your car had crashed into his when you were on a run from a monster. They immediately found out that you were hunting the same nest of vampire that they were. They were quite taken aback when you told them that you were a solo hunter.

Although as much as Dean was furious at first because you damaged his beloved Baby, you and him slowly became good friends. So when Sam invited you to live with them, you agreed without any second thoughts. Sam was like the younger brother you never had but Dean was another story. After several months of dancing around the fact that you both had feelings for each other and also because of Sam’s annoyance, Dean decided to ask you out.

Now, today as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, tears started to well up in your eyes. You never thought you would be able to see yourself like this - wearing a beautiful white gown as your would-be husband takes a stand at the altar, waiting for you to walk down the aisle.

“All done, sweetie,” Jody said as she put the final touches to your makeup and hair, “you look beautiful.”

You took a final look at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travelled south, eventually finding the beautiful engagement ring on your hand. Dean had given it to you on the same night he had asked you to marry him. The ring was perfectly kept in the pocket of one of his coats - he wanted to ask you for a long time but he always would chicken out at the last minute until that night. After he had put the ring on your finger, Dean had pulled you close, whispering “I love you” into your ear a thousand times. That night had ended with you and him in bed, entangled up with each other, panting and mumbling ‘I love you’s into each other's ears.

You smiled when you remembered the soft memory from that night.

“Jody, just don't let me fall while I walk down the aisle,” you said, standing up. Claire and Alex helped with the gown.

“Oh honey, I won't let you fall but if I do Dean will be there to catch you. That boy will always catch you before you hit the ground,” Jody said.

Jody Mills, you met her after you became a permanent resident of the bunker. She was a good friend of the Winchesters but she was more like a mother to you than a friend. She was there whenever you needed to talk. She supported you always so when Dean asked you about who will walk you down the aisle, you went straight to Jody’s house and asked her the question. She was surprised but eventually agreed, with tears in her eyes.

“We're ready,” Donna poked her head into the room and said.

Alex and Claire walked out of the room before you.

You linked your right arm with Jody’s, taking a deep breath, you tried to calm down your racing heart.

“Let's do this.”

You walked out of your dressing room and started to walk towards the garage where the wedding crremony was being held.

When you reached the garage you saw a carpet was spread out for you, with flowers sprinkled over it. You looked up and saw Claire and Alex standing on the side, Jack standing there with your wedding bands. The few guests you had invited - Bobby, Charlie, Rowena, Donna sitting at the front. You saw Sam standing beside Dean, he had a black tux on. He was looking right at you with a small smile on his face. Just beside him, stood Dean, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You started to tear up when you saw him. This was all you ever wanted - to spend the rest of your life with the man you love, your soulmate.

You walked towards Dean, Jody letting go of your arm. He extended his hand at you. You took his hand and stood beside him. You looked up at Dean, your eyes locking with his jade ones. His eyes were moist and you were yourself trying not to cry.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly, a shy smile playing on your lips.

“Should we begin?” Cas asked. You had asked Cas to officiate your wedding because who would be better other than an angel?

You and Dean nodded.

Cas began the ceremony but you weren't paying attention to what he was saying. You were too mesmerised in Dean's eyes. You mind wandered off to all the times you had spent with Dean, hunting with each other or just spending a lazy day in bed with him.

You were broken from your thoughts when Cas asked if you wanted to say your own vows. You both nodded and Dean started to speak.

“Y/N, five years ago, when your car crashed into mine I didn't know then that I would be standing at here with you today. I love your coffee obsessed, nerdy self who is also a badass hunter who doesn't take any bullshit from others. Being with you brings the best out of me. I promise that I won't let anything happen to you ever even if I have to walk through fire to keep you safe. I promise I will never take you, us for granted. I promise to love you as you love me, through all hardship, darkness, and pain to reach for our joys, our hopes, and always with honesty and faith and lastly I promise to never make fun about how much you love the Harry Potter books.”

You wiped the tears that were now rolling down your cheek. “Y/N.” You heard Cas say your name and you started to speak.

“Dean, today when I woke up I had to catch my breath to believe this is real, that I am really marrying my true love, my heart's desire, my soulmate. I couldn't make myself believe that it was all real and not one of Chuck's plans, but after seeing you standing here, waiting for me, all my doubts flew out of the window. I promise to always love and cherish this relationship even when you are annoying me. I promise to always protect you and keep both of us from harm's way. I promise to always love and support you. I promise to always leave the last slice of my pizza for you and lastly I promise to not roll my eyes everytime you say a stupid movie reference.”

Tears were now flowing freely down your cheek. You didn't even bother to wipe them. You looked at Dean and saw him sniffling. His green eyes clouded with emotions. He mouthed “I love you”.

“It's time to bring in the rings,” Cas announced and

Jack walked in with the rings, “Y/N and Dean will now exchange rings to symbolize their commitment. Dean now you may take Y/N’s hand in yours and repeat these words after me.”

Dean repeated the words after Cas with a grin on his face, and took the ring from Jack, putting it on your finger.

“Y/N, please take Dean's hand and repeat these words.”

You repeated the words after Cas, with a smile playing on your lips. You smile got bigger when you took the ring from Jack and put it on Dean's. You and Dean said your I do's, your heart heavy with emotions.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Dean you may kiss your bride now,” Cas said and for the first you noticed, he had a big smile on his face too.

Dean pulled you into a kiss, the first kiss as husband and wife. You immediately melted into the kiss. Cheers erupted throughout the garage but you didn't pay any attention to them. You were finally married to Dean, the love of your life and that was what mattered the most. Dean finally let go of you and looked at you with a stupid grin on his face.

“Hey Mr. Winchester,” you whispered.

“Hey Mrs. Winchester,” Dean said.

“We are married.”

“We are married, sweetheart,” Dean sighed.

“Now let's go save the world,” you smiled.

“Let's go save the world, together.”

Forever taglist - @donnaintx @devil-in-my-boots @amandamdiehl @miss-nerd95 @foxyjwls007

Dean/Jensen Taglist - @akshi8278 @mrsjenniferwinchester @jensengirl83 @defenderrosetyler

#supernatural #dean winchester #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #sam winchester #spn #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean x reader #sam x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #spn fic #spn fanfic #supernatural fic

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imagine-mr-markus · 4 years

Text

Birthday Candles

I had to write sumn for my fave Dad on his birthday, but i got a teeeensy bit distracted watching Hellbenders so its a leedol late, sorry! But yes, here we have some tasty tasty fluff of my boys in honour of The Birthday. And not an all an apology for the fact that the next two I’m working on are just Angst of my Cyberlife Boys, absolutely not

Hank Anderson, at the ripe age of 53 and 364 days, fucking hated birthdays. Hated the smell of cake and frosting and the cheerful wishes of others. What he hated most about them, however, was the birthday candles. The smell of them, the sight of them, even the fucking mention of them was enough to sour his mood beyond recognition, no matter how good it had been before. It hadn't always been like that; in fact, it had only been like that for two years and three hundred and twenty-nine days. Twenty-five thousand, four hundred and sixteen hours. One million, five hundred and twenty-four thousand, nine hundred and sixty seconds. The calculations flash irritatingly behind his eyes like they always have, and he shakes his head as his mood dips. He knows exactly why he hates those brightly coloured little sticks of wax so vehemently.

They'd been Cole’s favourite.

It had been a kinda stupid tradition his own mother had started when he was a kid to wake him up at exactly midnight on his birthday with a cake. There would always be another cake later, one for the party and the guests, but at midnight, when the world was quiet and the lights were out, it was just for the two of them to sit and eat a slice after he'd eagerly blown out the candles. Melissa had thought it was the cutest shit to grace this earth and had insisted on carrying on the tradition after they started dating, and he could easily admit that it was appreciated. It'd been part of what kept them together in the long stretch of time when they'd nearly fallen apart after pregnancy test after pregnancy test came back negative. But no matter how bad the fight, every birthday was ushered in with birthday candles and cake at midnight. It had only gotten better after Cole was born, the joy of the new baby and their much firmer foundation on marriage making for a much more relaxed morning. As soon as Cole had seen birthday candles, he’d been enraptured in the way only a child could be, and the new tradition that Cole always helped blow out the candles was born. For a solid portion of his life, Hank’s favourite smell in the world was the smell of the sweet smoke from the vibrant little pillars of wax.

But not anymore. Not for one thousand and fifty-nine days.

In the time Connor had been living with him, two hundred and ninety-eight days, his brain helpfully supplies, he's gotten much better at dealing with problems without the use of alcohol. In fact, he hasn't had anything stronger than a beer in months. But tonight, tonight the bar looks more tempting than he'd ever care to admit. He tilts his head slightly as he eyes his keys, fingers itching to make a break for it before Connor gets home. He could do it. Could grab his keys and be out the door. Connor would be disappointed, but he'd understand. Connor was good like that. He could-

The sound of the door startles him out of his reverie, the excited tapping of big paws on the floor following soon after.

“We're home!”

Hank turns away from his keys abruptly, mustering a smile as he looks towards the Android stood in the doorway.

“Hey, Connor. How was your walk?”

The kid offers him a smile before he bends to undo Sumo’s leash.

“It was good! It's getting chilly out, but the leaves are starting to change! I like the orange ones best.”

Some of Hank’s misery eases at Connor’s easy enthusiasm, and his smile is more genuine.

“That's good. I like the orange ones too.”

He pauses a moment to gather himself, mentally flipping the bird at his cravings for booze before continuing.

“So, whaddaya want for dinner?”

Connor doesn't need to eat, but after the revolution Kamski whipped up some fancy ass robotics that allows him to if he wants. It's nice to sit and eat with somebody again, even if the kid is way too addicted to coffee now that he can taste it. Connor tilts his head as he moves towards the kitchen, an easy grin pulling at his mouth.

“Can we get Chinese?”

Hank shakes his head fondly at the kid. Another one of his favourites was Chinese takeaway, and they'd eaten it with fair regularity. Although, Hank is kinda grateful. The kid’s been trying to learn to cook, but his skills aren't…. incredibly tasty as he insists on doing it ‘the human way’. The familiarity of it all helps ease the weight on his lungs, helps pull some of the itch from his fingertips.

“Yeah, Con. We can get Chinese.”

_____________________________________________

“Hank, wake up!”

His eyes snap open at the sound of Connor’s voice, hand going for his gun as he searches for what made the kid wake him.

“What is it? What's wrong?”

“Nothing. Happy birthday!”

He looks at Connor properly, taking in the sight of the kid grinning at him excitedly from beside his bed. He's dressed in Hank’s old clothes, a hoodie too big even for him swallowing the Android whole and pair of ratty flannel pants from Hank’s much younger days hanging off his frame. He's got flour down his front and a streak of bright blue frosting on his forehead, LED shining a bright, contented blue at his temple as his eyes sparkle with excitement in a warm, flickering light. And before he even looks down at what he's holding, Hank knows it's cake adorned with candles. He can smell it, the sugary sweetness clinging to the back of his throat and the scent of melting wax in his nose. A sharp pang of something ugly strikes at his chest, a deep hurt pulsing behind his ribs and a flare of an irrational fury between his lungs. He can feel his face twist with it, and he sees Connor’s expression fall as his LED spins yellow.

“Did…. did I do something wrong? I thought this is what family did on birthdays.”

The kid looks heartbroken at the thought that he fucked up, doe eyes falling to look at the cake as his mouth turns down like he's about to cry. The expression pulls at that softness in him he had kept buried for so long, the gentle instinct to comfort and console. It was an instinct he'd always had; part of the reason people had been surprised he'd taken the promotions from beat cop upwards when he was one of the few cops who could handle kids well. It was where he'd gotten the idea for kids of his own, and that feeling had only grown exponentially once he did have a kid. Melissa had been a great mother, but it had always been Hank who would roll out of bed whenever Cole cried in the night, and Cole had very clearly been Daddy’s Boy. Melissa used to joke that if they ever had another she had dibs, but the fact remains that Hank has always been better with kids because he's a fucking bleeding heart who can never turn down a crying child. And he may logically know that Connor is not a child, but that doesn't change the fact that with his lower lip stuck out slightly and his big brown eyes ready to fill with tears at any moment and drowning in clothes too big for him, he sure as hell looks like a little boy that's been scolded. And that sets off that tender heart of his hard enough he grimaces before what Melissa used to call the “Dad Spirit” switches on. His tone gentles out of reflex, and he adjusts himself on the bed to sit up properly as he sighs slightly. He softens his shoulders, looking at Connor earnestly with forgiveness and apology in his gaze.

“No, Connor, you didn't do anything wrong. I was upset, but not at you, alright?”

Connor blinks up at him hopefully.

“Really?”

Hank can't help the little curl of his mouth at Connor’s question, nodding a little. He's bracing himself for what comes next, but for just a second, it's alright.

“Really, kid. Now c’mere, lemme see it.”

As quick as it had gone, that unbridled excitement is shining out of the kid’s every goddamn pore as he eagerly presents the cake. Finally, Hank forced himself to look at it, and he nearly loses his goddamn mind right then and there. It's ugly, there's no getting around it, but endearingly so in that way that screams of love poured into the batter. The cake is uneven and lopsided, and smothered liberally in baby blue frosting. There are candles neatly sunk into it, and Hank knows without a doubt there are fifty-four of them arranged precisely in concentric circles. And there, in the middle, spelled out in neat lettering that he can recognise as Connor’s own personal font (though the frosting is wobbly and has been badly fixed) are the words “Happy Birthday, Dad!”. A shaky smiley face has been added beneath, and its obscenely cute. There's suddenly something in Hank’s throat. Connor has never called him Dad before, and it makes his own mouth wobble treacherously. He coughs a little before speaking, ignoring how thick his voice is.

“You make this yourself? I thought you didn't have any cooking protocols.”

Connor looks almost ridiculously proud of himself as he nods excitedly

“I did! I was tempted to download necessary coding, but I wanted to do it like a human, so I followed the recipe in the cookbook above the refrigerator! This one was labelled as your favourite!”

His mother’s cookbook. He hadn't touched it in years, and the only time Melissa had ever gone near it was for that specific recipe. The last time he'd used it, he'd been making Cole’s cake. Connor had found it, he'd made him his mother’s birthday cake, and Hank isn't crying, he isn't goddamnit-

“Hank? Are you alright?”

He clears his throat again and scrubs a hand over his face to wipe away any damning evidence.

“Yeah, Con. I'm alright, just got something in my eyes. C’mon, the candles are starting to drip onto the cake.”

He crosses his legs so there's room on the bed, and Connor moves easily to perch in front of him. It takes a second of him considering his own legs with a yellow LED before he crosses them like Hank’s, a pleased little grin turning his mouth. You wouldn't know it if you only saw him at work, but the kid was gangly and faintly awkward when it came to anything related to sitting. It had taken months for Hank to break his habit of sitting ramrod straight with his knees together and hands on his thighs. Now the kid would sprawl all over the couch, but he was still like a pubescent boy learning how to use his own limbs and how to arrange them, almost like a fawn learning to walk. It shouldn't have been as adorable as it was, but Hank has given up on trying to deny how fond he is of the kid. He shakes his head as Connor sets the cake down on the bedspread, and he stares at the cake for a long moment with a strange mixture of joy and grief and fondness and sadness in his chest like a bruise. He lets out a slow breath and looks up at Connor with a smile.

“Well? Are you gonna sing to me or not?”

Connor brightens and nods, but a brief show of yellow spins at his temple before he turns his head.

“Sumo! Come here!”

There’s a quiet boof from the living room before big paws thud towards the room, and the shaggy dog trots into the room to sit beside Connor expectantly. The kid gives the dog a fond pat before turning back towards Hank. His smile widens as he takes a deep breath, something he doesn't technically need, before he starts to sing, and Sumo awoos quietly with him in an odd harmony.

“Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday dear da-ad

Happy birthday to you!”

Ok, Hank is crying. He’ll admit it. It's one thing to see it written out in the cake, it's another to actually hear Connor call him Dad. And while it's not a surprise, he's thought of Connor as family for a while now, it brings a painful lump to his throat and a feeling filling his chest to hear someone refer to him as Dad and mean it. It's a feeling he hasn't had in one thousand and sixty days, and he had missed it dearly. He scrubs at his eyes again, sniffling a little.

“C'mere, kid. Help me blow out the candles.”

Connor gives him a brilliant grin and scrambles to sit next to him, carefully manoeuvring around the cake. He picks it up to settle it on their knees, Hank’s right knee supporting the left side of the plate and Connor’s left supporting the right.

“Ready, kid?”

“Ready, dad!”

That feeling clogs his throat again for a second before he offers Connor a nod. He bends closer to the cake, and Connor follows suit as they inhale. He blows out a good chunk of them, and Connor catches the rest with ease before laughing a little. It's not exactly a new sound, but Hank feels downright fucking blessed to hear it if he's honest with himself. Connor doesn't laugh too often, not outside the house, and it still feels special to hear the kid be so human. He's still fucking crying, but they’re good tears. Cathartic is the word, he thinks. A fork is offered to him, and he takes it gratefully. The hurt weighing on him hasn't gone away, he doesn’t think it ever will, but it's shifted, moved some, become lighter, and he rolls his shoulders back slightly as he sits up a little straighter. He's moving to take a bit of the cake when Connor gasps beside him, and he turns with a raised eyebrow.

“What is it?”

“I almost forgot!”

The kid plunges his hand into his pocket, pulling out a very familiar, very worn old Polaroid camera. Hank blinks at it, taken aback. He hadn't known he'd still had that around the house.

“The fuck you find that thing?”

Connor beams at him.

“In the boxes in the garage, along with the photo albums! They were shoved in the back, but I found them while I was cleaning over the summer. It's where I got the idea to make you cake!”

There's that funny rolling in his stomach again, like overwhelming happiness and sadness mixing like oil and water in a shaking bottle. But it's… it's good. Like the tears. Cathartic. He nods, gesturing with the fork.

“Alright, well let's get this show on the road. I wanna eat my cake.”

Connor laughs again, and Hank grins at him as he slings his own arm over the kid’s shoulder to bring him closer as he raised the camera.

“Sumo! Come get in the photo!”

The dog bounds easily up onto the bed, big head bumping at Connor’s forehead as he sniffles at the frosting there. Hank chuckles and shakes his head as he looks at the camera, making sure the text on the cake is visible as Connor presses the button. The flash is temporarily blinding, but he blinks it away as the camera spits out the sheet of thick film. Hank doesn't shake it like his mother used to, he knows better than that. He wants this one pristine if he can help it, especially because he's going to want copies of this shit. Eventually, maybe soon, maybe not, he'll stick it in the photo albums Connor found. The ones he hasn't had the guts to look at for years. But maybe…. maybe with Connor sitting next to him, he can focus on the good times as he tells him the stories about the photos. The kid is still pressed firmly into his side from Hank’s arm around his shoulders, and it's a good feeling, to sit beside someone. No, not just someone. His son. He knows Cole is never coming back, his little boy is gone, but maybe someday he'll see him again. And with any luck, he'll get to introduce him to his older brother. Well, younger brother? It's a comforting, if slightly confusing thought, and Hank grins as he transfers his fork to his other hand so he can keep Connor close while he digs into his birthday cake. The photo develops a little while later, and Hank loves it. You can see that he's been crying, but his smile is easy, and Connor has his nose scrunched up as Sumo licks his forehead, and the cake looks even uglier in the flash from the camera and it's absolutely perfect. He’s gonna need a copy for his wallet AND his desk, goddamnit, and he might even feel brave enough to put one of his pictures of Cole beside it. It's only right that both of his boys be present, really.

The smell of sweet candle smoke is heavy in the air, and he breathes it in. He can see Cole as he was the last time they celebrated together, green eyes sparkling and one of his front teeth missing from his broad smile as he shouted in the dark.

“Happy birthday, dad!”

Connor’s voice comes from beside him, and he turns to look at the kid as he smiles.

“Happy birthday, dad.”

He leans against Connor slightly, squeezing him gently.

“Thanks, son. I'm glad you decided to celebrate with me.”

And he means it.

___________________________________________________

At the age of fifty-four years and one hour, Hank Anderson loves birthdays. He loves the birthday cake that's lopsided and the too thick layer of frosting and the cheerful wishes of the Android beside him. And most of all, he loves his favourite scent in the world.

Birthday candles.

#Happy Birthday Hank you grimy bitch!!! ily #DBH #dbh hank #hank anderson #dbh connor #dbh Sumo

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kuvvydraws · 4 years

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I'm not sure if you've answered this question already, but I'm honestly very curious- why do you write fanfiction? I certainly enjoy it as much as you and have written a few things of my own, but I know it can be quite a personal topic for many writers. If it's too personal for you, don't feel any pressure to answer, but it's always interesting to see the writer's perspective outside of the story they've written :). I hope you understand what I'm trying to say-

Hey!

I actually enjoy the words and the rush your brain gets when they join without effort to create a reality.

Now, let me break that down XD

I've always had a book in my hands as far as my memory goes. My dad used to read to me when I was very little and from the second I could do it on my own, that was the best thing ever (yes, that means when I was punished for doing some shit, my books were taken away and I had to sneak them into my schoolbag and read in class like a heathen).

Not only I enjoyed books but I always found myself wanting to partake in the stories, and my brain was always running with the words and the scenes. (I discovered during my teenage years that brains have different ways to process thoughts and mine did it in words, so writing just sort of came naturally to me at that point in my life).

I discovered ffnet when I was 12, I think, but I had tried my hand at original works (that is, about five or six starts of different novels that never saw the light) and some "fanfiction" (about Nightmare Before Christmas because I had a big ass crush on Jack and I unassumingly created my first xReader ever) without knowing what the hell I was doing.

I just knew I wanted to write stuff and I did as much.

The thing is, I introduced one of my friends, who also loved to read and write, to ffnet, and we started writing together. The first thing we wrote was a Sesshomaru x OC fic, the second one was a Sasori x OC fic, and we dipped out toes into some Kuroshitsuji x OC...... all of them handwritten stories we promised we would type in a computer eventually (we didn't, they were horrible [I still have the notebooks we used for each of them and they are cringey as fuck]).

But we wrote for ourselves and we were happy like that.

So we were rampant and wild and having the best time. Back then I still wrote in Spanish (because I hardly knew any English and I didn't care for it), and I remember mixing Spain's Spanish with the ones from South America because obviously the percentage of writers in ffnet who used a different "dialect" Spanish was huge if you compare a single, tiny country with a whole continent.

At the same time I wrote with my friend, I wrote for myself. Naruto, Kuroshitsuji, Bleach, Hetalia.... And I met so many people, nice people, who loved my works (they were random fics, all of them x OC because I didn't know x Reader ones were a thing -they weren't at that time, and x Reader are harder to write in Spanish because all the words and pronouns are gendered one way or another-) and I got so much enjoyment from sharing them.

The thing about books I love the most is the fact that you can convey so many emotions with a few symbols, and you can create worlds out of ink and you can change views and inspire others. So, if none of my dumbass teenage novels were to roam the word, I still could share, in a free, open and fast way, my words with others.

Again, I was going to write them with or without posting them because I found -and still find- great pleasure when a scene creates itself in your brain and all you have to do to make it real is to write it down. (Sometimes my brain still does this and even when I'm daydreaming, my imagination is "written, described and dialogued" as if someone was reading a novel out loud. It makes writing so much easier).

And then I got hate.

I somehow had managed to miss all of the fandom drama that's so toxic in the internet because I didn't bother to interact with anyone in the fandoms beyond the reviews they left in my fics, and ffnet has a -sort of- specific search engine to help you find whatever you want, so I could never willingly find the "problematic stuff" because I was literally not trying to find it.

The hate comment I got was anonymous and very specific about everything that was wrong in a particular fic I had just updated -from plot and characterization to grammar and continuity-, and later on I discovered it came from a couple of authors who shared an account and who I admired greatly for their works. Turns out they were out for blood and hating on every fic that had updated that week and that had any members of their OTP shipped with some other character. (It was a Hetalia fanfic, I was writing SpUK and they were pro FrUk, if anyone is interested).

I was contacted by some other authors asking about this because they had gone through the very same thing -same specific hate, same hate comment- and I remember not giving a fuck.

I was 16 when I got the hate, writing for fun and trying to find a way to go through my shitty highschool days without falling into the black out of depression that haunted me. I remember not wanting to write anything anymore, leaving a fic I was very invested in writing to gather dust and rot in the forgotten folders of my computer because every time I tried to get on with it and progress, it felt wrong.

That thing I said about words just happening? It stopped. My brain was silent as a grave and trying to get my words out became painful. I remember struggling to even write regular project for my school.

I kept reading, of course -it was my only comfort and I really, really didn't want to give up on it-, but I abandoned the fandoms I enjoyed so much before. My new focus became the sci-fi, and I remember being hooked on Predator. Imagine my joy when I discovered there were thousands of works from that fandom! I was extasic.

Problem? They were written in English.

I didn't know shit about English besides being a language I was supposed to handle in school, memorize the unreasonably spelt words that were pronounced illogically regarding the fucking spelling and the stupid ass irregular verbs.

But I learnt English because I wanted a hot piece of alien ass XD

Back to the topic of fanfics, I still roamed ffnet, keeping 15 tabs open and reading until 5 am... But now there was a world of possiblities in front of me because of course everyone on this goddamn Earth writes in English.

So, for the next years I did that, and my words didn't come. It was fine, tho, because I had so many new things to read.

It wasn't until fall of 2018 that I dabbed into the idea of maybe considering to perhaps give writing a try again????? I was neck deep into Undertale -still am, I'm a shameless skeleton fucker and there's no cure for that shit- and its many AU's and somehow I had managed to avoid fandom wars again, so my brain started toying with words... The same way it worked with novels: I got myself into the fics other people wrote (this is so much easier to do with x Reader fics, and I'm so happy about that and the massive boom they had just when Undertale came out, you can't even understand it).

So I kept doing my shit and daydreaming about skeletons and ribs and ecto-stuff for a very long time. It was kinda reassuring and nice to see other writers projecting on their x Readers so much because that's what I had done before.

And then Good Omens happened.

As I've said before, I actually discovered Gomens back in 2012 and it is, to the date, the worst translation to Spanish I've seen in my entire life to this date. And, despite it, I fell in love with it.

Now, barely in 2019, my dad gets Amazon Prime and the first thing he fucking sees is the font of Gomens on the screen. I had fangirled hard about Gomens in book version, so much and so annoyingly that I wouldn't leave my dad alone until he gave it a chance. It's the only book my father hasn't finished because the translation is that bad. He hates it.

Yet.

The particular font they use for the show is the same from the book's title. My dad of course recognized it immediately and knew I would want in on the news.

I confess I watched Gomens the show at least seven times before giving it a break because I liked it so much and the novel was so fucking good and it's honest to God the best adaptation I've ever seen to the screen. It's so good I'm fucking sure I was crying actual tears after watching it for the first time because my dreams and all the feelings that book had given me over the years and the many re-reads were "true" and so well done and it reached deep into my heart.

And then, for the first time in six years, my words came back.

Another thing Good Omens has given me, I have to say.

I don't know if I can stress this enough, but just imagine spending six years of radio silence, sending longing stares to the void and hoping to see something yours returning back, something you've lost and you're not sure you're getting back, something you think you don't need or want but that would be nice to have again. If only. You can live without that something, and no one but you cares about it, and it's not that big of a deal and-

Then you see a spark in the dark.

My words came back.

They weren't in Spanish, and it was hard to manage them at first, only being able to listen to them in short bursts over long periods of time.

But they were my words and they were back.

Writing is still hard, and I have a lot of work to do to improve my skills, to get them not only back but to refine them because I'm not writing in my native language and all I know is what I've learnt from other authors and their knowledge. I project a lot on my projects -I don't intend to stop because it's such a relief, the biggest scape from reality I get by doing so; it helps me deal with my problems, it gives me a break and a way to take a breath when I can't keep going...

Fanfics are where I can say what I want to say to the world in the most honest way, and that allows me to be me, and to express myself and indulge in the fantasies I dream about without having to force myself to think of them over and over and over. I can just sit back and enjoy content I know I like without being judged for it.

I can fucking make that content, too.

Writing feels like home, even if sometimes I still struggle, if I can't find my words or the expression is not quite like that in English, or if I can't find the words or if I'm suffering a block... because there's nothing scarier and more free than a blank page ready to be written.

#this is long as fuck #sorry for the trip because damn that's some heavy backstory i just puked #i still have my ffnet account but its been years since I've used it #only for predator and hp content i have to say #i have over 600 bookmarks there but who cares #kuvvytalks about some personal crap

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old-read-all-about-kpop · 5 years

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Hewwoo it's me again, I hope I'm not bothering you ;w; I just really like your writings! Could I request for a scenario between student council!you and badboy!ravn? I just get the badboy vibe from him ahshsjdk the genre is up to you, I love everything that you post uwu thank you!

A/N: You’re joking right? You are not bothering me at all lovely! I’m happy that you enjoyed my writing enough that you wanted to request once more. That brings me so much joy! 🥺💖 This concept has caused me to create the (almost) perfect scenario! I hope you enjoy reading it my dear! 💓

Genre: Angst with a fluffy ending

Warning!: Slight vulgarity

You wanted the floor to swallow you and never allow you to see the break of dawn again. You, the Vice President of the student council, were outside the principal’s office to be scolded. Why you may ask? Because of the biggest douchebag in the school, Kim Youngjo, who prefers to be called Ravn.

How it all happened was idiotic to say the least. You knew you should have just been the bigger person. But, what Ravn said was hurtful. His friend was no better but, sadly, his words affected you the most. You wished you could rewind time but that’d be too much to ask for.

You and the rest of the student council were having a bake sale. Over the weekend you all made some sugary treats to sell for new football uniforms and, hopefully, new textbooks. In your opinion, the latter would do more good. But no one would acknowledge your opinion.

You were considered the “nerdy b****” who needed to get laid. Or needed to have a Valium and then get laid.

Anyway, your reason for being somewhere you would only be if you had an issue to convey with the principal was simple. You hit the idiot of a jock, Ravn (you snarl at the thought of him), in the back of his precious letterman jacket with a cupcake.

“If the nerdy b**** wants to make money then she should just lay on her back,” you heard one say as the muscle head jocks strolled by.

“Or get on her knees,” muttered Ravn.

His fellow douchebag friends hollared with laughter at his remark. They slapped him on the back as if he scored a three pointer before the blaring of the shot clock.

Your retaliation? You snatched up an innocent cupcake and chucked it at Ravn, perfectly aimed at the jaguar sewed in the middle of his precious varsity jacket.

Ravn could’ve been steaming at the ears from how pissed he looked. If looks could kill, you’d be twelve feet under.

He stalked toward you, having you feel as though you were in the Amazon Rainforest. You stood tall, though. You refused to show any signs of timidity. All through your high school career you’ve kept quiet, allowing people to do/say anything to you. Now, you were tired of staying quiet. People were gonna hear from you.

Ravn took off his jacket and examined it, all the while clicking his tongue and sucking his teeth. He chuckled dryly as he saw the cupcake holding onto his jacket. He took it off and spun it around his long fingers.

“Very funny of you. Now…I wonder…if this little cupcake can hold on to my jacket…maybe it can hold onto the slimy strands of your oily hair.”

WHAM!

You gasped in horror. You blinked slowly, trying to comprehend the situation while also keeping your cool. But it was disappearing by the second.

Ravn went ahead and smacked the cupcake on the top of your head. Everyone around you two were silent, their anticipation for what was to come stinking the air.

Soon enough, you two engaged in a food war. You launched cupcakes at him while Ravn threw slices of cake, decorating the corner of the cafeteria you had with cavity-producing sweets.

Now, you two were sitting outside the principal’s office, awaiting your punishments. You knew you were in for it once your parents got called. The disappointment they’d feel was gonna be unbearable. To keep from crying, you dug your nails into your flesh. Whenever they slid over your flesh, you’d sink them back in. The cycle would repeat when needed.

“Stop that!” A voice exclaimed. “You’re making your skin red.”

A warm hand touched you. You jumped away as if you got burned.

Ravn leaned back. Wide-eyed, he raised his hands slowly, trying to appear harmless.

You huffed, placing your chin in your open hand. You focused your eyes on the clock ahead, hoping to zone out as you watched the second hand tick by.

“Listen. What happened back at lunch didn’t have to go down like that. Obviously, we could have handled things differently.”

“Oh, like me allowing you and your dumb jock friends to belittle and degrade me with voices loud enough for me to hear. Yeah, I’m sure that would’ve been a preferred scenario for you, huh?”

“Sweetheart, you and I both know that’s not what I meant.”

“Don’t call me that!” You whipped around to look st him, your gaze fiery. “You lost your chance to call me any cute pet names the minute you started acting differently at the start of this school year.”

Ravn sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping. “I never meant to treat you like a nobody.”

“Then what did you mean exactly, Youngjo? Because how you mistreated me was awful! All summer we hung out, sharing little bits about ourselves, staying up talking until God-awful hours in the night.” Despite your efforts to keep them at bay, tears spilled. “You took my first kiss.”

You quickly wiped your face, sniffling your emotions back up. “So, you didn’t just treat me like a nobody. You’ve treated me like a summer fling.”

You needed to remain strong. But all you did was appear strong for these past two months, having to constantly see the boy who owned your heart despite you fighting the reality of it. You were tired now. The act was becoming exhausting.

Suddenly, two hands took possession of your cheeks. You tried to jerk away, but the hands simply tightened their hold.

“Don’t fight me right now, angel. I just need to look into your eyes while I say this.” He then started rubbing the tear streaks away with the pads of his thumbs. And that action alone was how he got you under his control.

Ravn leaned in closer, licking his lips nervously as he gazed into your eyes with his dark brown ones. “Sweetheart, I know I screwed up. No…I f***** up. Babygirl, you became my gravity over the summer. You held me down more than I could say for any of the people I hang out with and call my ‘friends’. You been there for me more than my own parents. You understand me. And, the moments you don’t, you take the time to try.”

He was closer than ever now, causing your lips to brush together in the slightest. Just from the ghost of a touch from his pink lips had your breathing becoming shallow. Your body felt like it was vibrating. The pull you felt toward Ravn was impeccable. You felt as though you two were the only ones existing in this moment.

“If you would let me, I would love to make this right, baby. I miss you with every fiber of my being. It takes everything in me not to kiss you in front of all these pricks in this dumb school. Believe me if you want to.”

You sighed shakily. You wanted nothing more than to melt into Ravn and take him back. But, you needed to set some ground rules. You weren’t going to be treated like a fool again.

“One condition.”

“Baby, you could name a thousand. I don’t care. Name it and I’ll do it.”

“Either be your own person or forget us ever becoming more.”

Ravn dropped his gaze. He knew what you were insinuating.

“Your jock friends pressure you to be someone you’re not. You showed me a Ravn over the summer completely different from this Ravn. Look me in my eyes and say this is who you really are and we won’t have to waste each other’s time any longer.”

Ravn shifted his eyes to yours. His hands seized yours, bringing them to his lips.

“This isn’t the person I want to be. And I’m truly sorry for Hwanwoong’s comment and mine. It was truly unacceptable. I should’ve defended you instead of engaging in such awful talk about you. I’m really sorry, angel.

He leaned in closer. His gaze deepened, unknowingly pulling you more into its abyss.

“I promise you I will treat you how you’re supposed to be treated from here on out. No matter how long my probation is until I regained your trust I’ll wait. For you, it’s worth it.”

“You really promise?”

“Yes, sweetheart.” He then released one of your hands and made an X where his heart is. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

A smile slowly appeared on your face. You looked down at your joined hands. Your heart swelled from the familiarity.

You looked back up at Ravn, regaining eye contact. You licked your lips before speaking. Ravn bit his lip, enduring a large amount of stress as he waits for your response. He wasn’t willing to let you go. He wouldn’t be able to go on with his life another second without you with him.

“If you’re hoping to die then, I guess, we can try again at this relationship.” A coy smile took over your features.

Ravn’s eyes grew wide. Simultaneously, a huge smile covered half his face.

“Yes!” He yelled before pulling you out of your seat and wrapping you up in a tight bear hug.

Dried icing fell to the floor like dust off of chalk as your clothes rubbed against each other. But neither of you cared to notice.

“Thank you, babygirl! Thank you! I swear to you I will cherish you like you’re the most precious source of air in the entire world.” His grip grew tighter, causing you to feel secure. The pieces of your self-esteem, happiness, and heart felt like they were put back together as Ravn held you flush to his body.

Once again, you felt that bubbly feeling deep in your belly. The same thrill you felt in the summer is the same as what you’re feeling now. It might have maximized. Because you were finally back in your boyfriend’s arms, feeling right at home.

A/N: Okay this turned really freaking long. But I’m happy with the plot. A big pat on the back for myself if I must say. I’m sorry if you were waiting a long time my dear. But, I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading this darling! 🤗💓

#requested #oneus ravn #ravn angst #ravn fluff #oneus imagines #oneus reactions #oneus scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff

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bizarrewritings-blog · 6 years

Text

Best Part of me - S.S.

Sebastian Stan x Reader

Anon: Hi sunshine <3 can you make Seb and "You're the best part of me" looooove your writing!

Promt: 232 - "You're the best Part of me"

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word count: 1,689

Warnings: Swearing

@Y/T/N: Your Twitter @-Name

You've been pacing around the living room of your shared apartment for what felt like hours now, your feet already hurting from the hardwood floor, but you didn't care. Your throat was dry and aching, like someone wrapped a noose around it and pulled it just a little too tight. Your eyes were puffy from crying, your lip chapped and bleeding just the tiniest bit from you chewing on it so much.

Sebastian had left earlier to go to an movie event. You had decided to stay home, not really a fan of the press and crowds of people. And after all, you weren't a famous actor, like about 90% people who would attend this festival. He seemed a little disappointed to not spend the evening with you, but he didn't want to push you to do anything you weren't comfortable with. He never would, one of the many things why you loved him so much.

But now you were there alone, tight grip on your phone in your hand. It showed a Tweet, two pictures attached. They were a little low quality but it was obvious that it was Sebastian with another woman, and they were way too close for your liking. He had his hand on her lower back on both of them. In the first one, he leaned in to say something in her ear, a fond smile plastered her pretty face. In the second picture, he showed her something on his phone, grinning while she was smiling brightly. The Tweet itself said "What is this? Is Sebastian cheating on @Y/T/N?"

Your social media had been blowing up since the pictures leaked, tons of people wondering if you were still together, some defending Sebastian, some saying hateful stuff, like that he "finally found someone better". Ever since you started dating Sebastian about 3 years ago, you knew it wouldn't be easy to have a famous actor as your boyfriend. It brought a lot of difficulties, lots of fights, but you always got over it because in the end, you two loved each other.

But this was a whole new level. He has never cheated on you.

From Time to time you tried to lift yourself up, tried to think it was a big misunderstanding. That the women was just a close friend which he was happy to see. But everytime you looked at the pictures amd read through the comments, the ugly feeling in your stomach came back since you weren't the only one to be convinced that was more than friendly.

You already tried to call and text him a thousand times. He never answered, and it made you furious. Tons of thoughts what he could be doing in that moment were in your mind, causing a mass of emotions to storm inside you. You were jealous, mad, sad, broken, everything. Even taking breaths was hard, your lungs aching from the constant try to not start breaking down again. It was already 2am, he had left 7 hours ago and still wasn't home.

You fell back onto the couch, letting out a heavy sigh as seemingly every muscle in your body ached. You wanted to curl yourself into a ball and just stay like that forever.

Sebastian knew he was late when he finally left the party. He was tired as shit as he almost fell in the Cab, sinking back into the soft beackseat while he told the driver his address. During the drive he kept looking out the window, a pleased smile on his face. He couldn't wait to be home. You were probably asleep, he thought, so he could just change out of his uncomfortable suit and snuggle up in the bed next to you. His phone died a couple hours ago, and he felt a little disappointed that he couldn't read your typical goodnight text you send whenever he was out late without you. The smile on his face grew at the thought of it. In his eyes, you were the most adorable thing ever.

As Sebastian arrived at your apartment, he thanked and payed the driver before stepping inside. He tried to be as silent as possible as he pushed the key into the lock and turned it. His brows furrowed in confusion when he pushed the door open, the soft light from the living room unusual. "Y/N? Are you still up?" He asked carefully while kicking off his shoes. Maybe you've fallen asleep on the couch. Wouldn't be the first time.

But when he approached the living room, only to find you slumbed over the couch, your eyes puffy and a broken look on your face at his presence, he could almost hear his heart break. He quickly rushed to your side, confused as you jerked away from him. "Darling, what's wrong?"

You felt the tears form once again in your eyes as your chin quivered. "Don't call me that." You croaked, your voice breaking while you tried to avoid his gaze. Sebastian stared at you, even more confused as he just found out that he was the reason for your current state. And he had no idea why. "Come on, talk to me. What's going on?" Wordlessly, you handed him your phone, the tweet with the pictures of him and the women still open. When Sebastian recognized the two people the pictures showed, all colour drained from his face. Realizing you probably believed what the tweet said he turned to you, panicking slightly. "Darling, I swear it's not what it looks like." You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes which were still filled with tears. Your arms were crossed infront of your chest, your body facing away from him, your eyes fixated on your lap while you tried to fight the tears that wanted to escape.

"You have to believe me! I know how this looks but i can explain- I could explain, but-" "But what?!" You snapped, your gaze meeting his. He gulped hard at your now angry state. "I-I can't tell you, I-" "Are you fucking serious, Sebastian?!" You were completely enraged now. Why wouldn't he tell you the reason he wouldn't be cheating on you? Maybe because there wasn't one?

"Either, you give me a goddamn reason why I shouldn't believe you were cheating on me, or you can walk right back out and not come back. Your choice." Your voice was serious, the harsh tone making Sebastian flinch. His jaw clenched, he didn't know what he should do. He hated to say it, but he had to. He didn't want you to force him to leave. "That girl, she's a friend, I promise. I needed her help with something, that's why I showed her something on my phone." You searched for any kind of sign in his features that he was lying. You normally could see right through him, but all you currently saw was worry. So you continued. "Help with what?" He gulped again, his eyes silently pleading you to not ask. But you didn't care. "Tell me or leave. It's easy as that."

Sebastian let out a heavy sigh, his eyes closing. "I didn't want it to go like this, but alright." His eyes opened again, his gace finding yours as he smiled weakly. "I love you, more than anything." You scoffed lightly, which he chose to ignore. "I wanted to get you something. I had two different possibilities, and I asked her which one she thinks is better." Your eyes furrowed in confusion. He took a deep breath, his pleading gaze once again on you. "Do I have to continue?" You just nodded, leaving him to sigh again, his eyes closing. "They were rings." Your eyes widened at his statement, your jaw slack. "I wanted to make this more romantic but well, here we go."

You couldn't proceed what was going on when he stood up, only to get down on one knee infront of you. He gently took your hand in his, a soft smile on his face as tears once again formed in your eyes. "I would never cheat on you, Y/N. I still can't believe you love me for the mess I am. You're the best Part of me. And I want you to stay with me, forever." You were full on weeping right now as a couple of tears even gathered in Sebastians eyes. "I know I don't have a proper ring right now, but I'm still asking you." He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves even though his hands were shaking. "Y/N Y/L/N, Will you marry me?" A shiver ran through you as the words fell from his lips. You were speechless, unable to form words as he just stared at you, waiting for an answer. When you felt his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand, you slowly came back to reality. Smiling brightly, you nodded. "Yes. Yes I want to." A relived sigh left Sebastians lips, a grin forming before he stood up, pulling you with him to hug you tightly. You were both crying by now, this time out of pure joy.

You had no idea for how long you just stood like this, arms around each other, crying into the other's shoulder. Sebastian pulled back after a while, smiling down at you with the brightest smile you've ever seen. His hand went to your face, his thumb carefully wiping a couple tears away. "I love you." He whispered, pure honesty im his voice. You smiled up at him. "I love you too. And I'm sorry." He instantly shook his head. "Don't be. If I would've seen a guy that close to you, I probably would've gotten into a car to beat the shit out of him." You both chuckled at that. As his gaze found yours again, he slowly leaned down, covering your lips with his. The kiss was slow and filled with nothing but love, causing butterflies to errupt in your stomach. Sebastian was the love of your life, and you were the lucky one to get to marry him.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #fanfic #marvel cast #mcu #bucky barnes #marvel fanfic #sebastian stan angst #angst #fluff #request #best part of me #anon #bizarrewritings

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kdfrqqg · 7 years

Text

I'm Scared

Dean x Reader

Fluff/Angst

Word count: 1.5K

Summary: reader kisses Dean and things get awkward

The drive back to the motel was so quiet and tense. Did that just happen? The ghost strangled the life out of Dean and by the time you got to him, he wasn't breathing so you gave him mouth to mouth.

With joy pouring out of you that you had brought him back from the beyond, your body took over and you pressed a passionate kiss on his lips. It seemed right at the time, nothing more than a kiss, a hug, and a word of thanks happened, so why was this so awkward. Dean and you had always been friends or a brother sister type of a bond but this just made shit complicated. You looked over at him and he had this goofy smile on his face, damn he could be so cute when he wanted to be.

The questions rambled on in your head, why did you do it? Do you like him beyond friends? Does he like you back? You wanted to scream but it just came out as a huff. Dean chuckled knowing what you were doing, you over analyzed everything like always. You glared at him and continued your internal dialogue with yourself. Why did you kiss him in the first place? Why did you use tongue? Why did you press your whole body into his? Why wasn't he talking to you? Why did it feel so good?

The rest of the night was pretty silent and you were exhausted from finding that stupid ghost’s toupee in a box of old junk. You pulled the covers back on your bed, you were lucky that Sam was on a hunt with Jody so you got your own bed this week. Finally, Dean spoke, “Thanks again for well…”

You turned facing him and smiled, “Well someone's gotta save ya ass, cause I might need savin’ next time.” You chuckled looking down trying not to make eye contact.

“Yeah, well as saves go I'd rather have you do mouth to mouth on me than Sam.” He also pulled back his blanket, thinking about how amazing your kiss was.

You tossed and turned most of the night feeling an ache in your heart for Dean. He was your friend, he was your partner, in this life you don't get love. This life ends bloody, you could deal if you lost him and he was just a friend but if he was more, you didn't think you could survive that.

He was sleeping on his back, he looked so content with himself as drool covered his pillow. He wasn't worried at all about how this kiss would change your relationship. Maybe you should take his lead, you took a deep breath and counted backwards from 100 by the time you hit 80 you were out like a light.

The alarm on your phone went off at about nine am, “hey morning!” Dean said putting a cup of coffee on the night stand.

“Hey thanks.” He was nicer than normal, you sat up sitting criss cross applesauce on the bed. “We probably gotta hit the road soon.” He told you.

You were brushing your teeth when Dean came into the bathroom to grab his stuff, he normally would bump into you a thousand times when he packed up but today he didn't accidentally touch you once. You spit the toothpaste in the sink knowing now something was up maybe the kiss was bothering him too.

You and he barely spoke the whole way home to the bunker, you tried to ignore it hoping things would get back to normal in a couple of days.

You walked into the kitchen to get a soda out of the fridge, when you turned around you saw Dean sitting on the floor in the corner with a bottle of beer in his hand. He had three empties sitting next to him, he wasn't drunk just drinking his sorrows like he liked to do.

“Hey why don't you join us in the library.” You sat next to him, placing your head on his shoulder with your legs stretched out.

“No. I'm good right here.” He paused, rolling over the next thing he was going to say, “Why don't you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?" You questioned back, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“Dammit, (Y/N/N) don't play dumb. I know that's what you're doing.” He let out an exasperated sigh.

“You mean that mind blowing kiss we shared last week.” You turned your head away from him rubbing your head.

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about your soft lips. I think about you all the time.” He spoke low and honestly.

“Yeah me too.” You admitted.

“Then why aren't you talking to me about it?” Dean asked again, placing his hand over yours.

You pulled away, “Dean, you and I just aren't going to happen. I care for you but we can't happen.”

“But why?” He asked almost on the verge of crying and it broke your heart.

“Because our lives end tragically, Dean. We can be friends but nothing else.” You kissed his cheek and stood up trying to hold back the tears.

You were going to continue but Sam came running in. “Hey guys, I gotta case.”

“Ok” you sniffed, “I'll be ready in 20.” Covering your mouth and walked as quickly as you could to your room.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, Dean hit Baby's steering wheel, “No!” He yelled definitely agitated and pulled the car off on the side of the road. Both you and Sam were stunned by his outburst, Dean turned around and barked “Out!”

You didn't move, he got out the Impala and forcefully opened your door. “I said, Out!” He grabbed your arm, he was angry but he didn't hurt you. He held onto you just enough for you to know he was serious.

“Dean, what the hell is wrong with you?” You yelled as he drug you around the back side of the car.

Sam hopped out, you pull your hand up letting him know you could handle Dean. He nodded but stayed out of the car.

“You-you is what's wrong with me.” He passionately shouted. “We end tragically!” He used your words against you, “Everything about our life is tragic. Why don't you see that? But you-you-you” he stuttered, “you make it less tragic, you make this life bearable.” The tears broke from him.

“Dean…” your lip quivered.

“No, don't use my name like that. (Y/N/N) I need you.” He wept. “We could be amazing together but you won't even give us a try.”

“I know Dean,” you wiped your nose, “I'm scared, I'm just so scared Dean.”

He saw the fear in your eyes, he took your hands and pulled you into a hug, “Me too. I'm scared too. I'm scared as hell that I need you so much. I'm scared of losing you.”

Your head fell into the crook of his neck, his warmth calmed you, he smelled so good. Things with Dean wouldn't be a cakewalk but you were willing to try if he was. It was clear both of you had feelings for each other. All was calm no one spoke a word, you just embraced him.

“Sweetheart, please talk to me.” He released his hold on you.

You stepped back and looked up at him with wet, red eyes, he didn't need to hear your words, he understood completely. His lips crashed against yours, his hands massaged the back of your head. He tasted like hops, barley and the salt that came from your tears mingled with his. You continued to cry as he switched from hard kisses to tender. “(Y/N), I'm not going anywhere. You don't need to be afraid.”

“Yeah, I can't help it. I've never felt like this.” You kissed his neck. “It's new for me.”

“Are you willing to try?” He asked again.

“I'm willing to fight for us, to fight for you.” Your whole body shook as you confessed.

“Yeah?” He kissed the top of your head.

“Yeah!” You agreed wiping your eyes.

He lifted you up, making you squeak. He kissed you hard, your lips parted for him as his tongue swept into your mouth. Your legs wrapped around his waist holding on to him never wanting to let him go. He finally let you go when cars honked at you dry humping on the side of the road. Laughing on the way back to the car, he closed the door for you trying to be polite.

Sometime during all that Sam got back in the car to give you some privacy. “Everything good?” He asked once you were situated.

“Yeah Sam everything's good.” Dean turned to you in the back seat and took your hand.

“Ok so two rooms?” Sam asked, not sure if you were ready for that.

You bit your lip and giggled, “Yeah, I think two rooms would be a good idea.” Now that you made up your mind to be with Dean, you didn't want to waste a moment with him.

I love all the likes and reblogs but I really do want your feedback. Please leave me a comment; let me know what worked or what didn’t. If you hated it let me know what I could do different. It may determine how I write my next fic.

“Give it to me! You know you want to!” Writer winks at reader.

MY MASTER LIST Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Everything @bandobsession98, @greenappleeyes, @honeybeetrash, @chaos-and-the-calm67, @18crazybutcutealsopsycho, @xdifsx, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @queen-of-deans-booty, @notnaturalanahi, @justanotherdeangirl, @samwinjarpad, @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel, @drakkie-blog, @geekgirl1213, @sophiebobzz @emoryhemsworth

Reader insert @jensen-jarpad

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader fluff #dean x reader angst #spn #spn fanfic #spn fan fiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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ddaddsprompts · 7 years

Note

Hey I'm so AMAZED with your prompts, YOU ARE AWESOME!! they are so well done and you're really creative in your writing and I LOVE that :3 But enough fangirling I was hoping you would consider making a prompt that has the [Dad]'s kids reacting to their dad and his husband, Dadsona, having a new baby(perhaps thru mpreg means?) maybe a boy for the families overrun with girls and a girl for the ones with boys. Maybe even include Amanda too? I know this is a lot but I hope you at least like it :3

Could you do an imagine where the cool-de-sac kids handle with their Dads having a new baby with Dadsona? I found river real cute and this just came to me :3 plus can you imagine Ernest or Daisy as older siblings super cute!!

Thank you so much!! This was a lot of fun to write (despite the pain in my fingers), so I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I did. Dadsona here is trans and thus capable of getting pregnant.

🥃 You aren’t as close to Valas you’d like to be, but there were still issues father and daughter needed towork out between them and you can understand that. Robert’s got better, a lot better, since your talk under thetree in your backyard, thank god, because you don’t know how the ‘old’ Robertwould have reacted to seeing the positive pregnancy test you presented him with.There were tears, sloppy, wet kisses and laughter. The fact Val came to visitthe following weekend was a lucky coincidence, but you’d take it. You aren’tfar along enough to show already, but the way Robert hovers around you,constantly keeping you in his sight, asking you a thousand questions just tomake sure you really are fine, would have tipped anyone off. “I don’t deserve another child,” Roberthad said, “I haven’t even made things upwith Val yet. I don’t want her to be angry at our kid for getting the fathershe never had.” He needn’t have worried. Val seems to immediately sense somethingwas off. You’re worried about her brows getting stuck in that position if shecontinued frowning. You don’t want to breach the topic before Robert is readyto tell her, but Val beats you to it. She stands up right after dinner andcrosses her arms in front of her chest. The resemblance to Robert isremarkable. “Okay, you two, spill it.” “I’m pregnant,” you say. “About threeweeks in.” Val stands, frozen, for a few moments. You can see Robert go tense,his knuckles white. Then Val surges forward to hug you two and buries her facein her father’s shoulder, saying “I’m so happy for you two” over and over again.There are tears, sloppy, wet kisses and laughter. He needn’t have worried.

🍸 Chris’ immediate response to hearing the news isto look at you and ask “How? Men can’t get pregnant.” You’re surprised, asuntil now, you thought Joseph’s kids knew, but Joseph whispers into your earthat it wasn’t his right to tell them and you understand. After half an hour ofexplaining you’re trans and what exactly that means, Chris seems satisfied withyour explanation. Christie and Christian, not so much. “Is it going to be agirl? I want a sister. I already have three brothers.” Christian elbowed histwin in the side. “Nuh-uh. I want a brother.” Christie glared daggers at him.You stifle a laugh behind your hand and see Joseph do the same. Crish, in hiscrib, blew a spit bubble, making clear he doesn’t particularly care either way,because he’s a toddler and doesn’t understand any of what you say yet. “Wedon’t have any way of influencing the gender of the child and it’s too earlyfor the doctors to find out,” Joseph interrupts before the argument can evolveinto a proper fight. “But you can try praying for a brother or sister, maybe Hecan be convinced by your arguments.” The twins, still glaring at each other,nod. Suddenly, there is a hand on your belly, and you look down to find Chrislook at it in concentration. “What are you doing, champ?” Chris’ mouth twitchesin what you now recognise as a smirk. “Praying it’s not twins again.” You andJoseph break into giggles as the twins whine.

☕ Mat and you planned on telling Carmensita overdinner, but neither of you counted on her perceptivity. “Y/N, why aren’t youdrinking your usual coffee?” She asks you as she plops down on the couch nextto you. You look at your fruit drink and then back at her. “I can’t havecaffeine, sweetheart.” The response was automatic, reflexive, and your brainscatches up only as Carmensita’s eyes go wide and her skin a few shades paler. “Areyou sick? Oh god, that’s why you went to the doctor’s recently, isn’t it? You’resick.” With horror you realise there are tears in her eyes. The next momentCarmensita is crying and hugging you with all her might. “Please don’t die likeMommy,” she sobs. The words break your heart. At the first commotion Pablo raninto the back and now, Mat comes hurrying over. He pries Carmensita off you andlifts her into his arms, rubbing circles on her back. “Baby girl, what’s wrong?”Carmensita sobs again. “Y/N told me he can’t have coffee anymore and I know hewent to the doctor’s a few days ago! He’s sick! I don’t want to lose him too!”Mat’s eyes widen in shock. He gently puts Carmensita down on the couch againand kneels in front of her, cupping her face in his hands. “Baby girl, Y/N isn’tsick, I promise. He can’t drink coffee at the moment because he can’t havecaffeine. Baby girl, Y/N is pregnant. You’re going to get a baby brother orsister soon.” Carmensita looks from her father to you. “Pregnant…?” You nod ather and smile. “Yes, dear.” She hugs you tightly again, but this time she’slaughing from joy.

🌹 The decision who of you would carry the childhadn’t been easy, but eventually, you decided it would be you, and you twoasked Robert whether he would donate sperm. After the initial meltdown, he saidyes. A month later, you received the news: You were pregnant. Now it’s time totell Lucien. He’d known you were thinking about having a child and had gone tothe doctor, but not that it worked at the first try. Damien is a nervous wreckas you two prepare dinner for when Lucien returns from school. “He already toldyou he’s happy about our decision and looking forward to a younger sibling. Whyare you so worried now, dear?” He runs a hand through his hair and gives asomewhat helpless shrug. It makes you pull him closer, sneaking an arm aroundhis waist. “Truthfully, I don’t know. Maybe that he has changed his mind.”“I haven’t,” Lucien says, kicking the door shut behind him. “If it’s about yourwish for a child.” He drops his bag and leans against the wall. You canpractically guess the direction of his thoughts as you follow his eyes go fromDamien’s face to yours and then down to the hand Damien has on your stomach.Lucien’s eyes light up and you think, he figured it out. “Did it work?” Lucienasks. Warmth spreads out inside of you at his tone, the pure joy you can hearin his voice. “Yes, dear,” Damien replies and you add, “I’m pregnant.” Lucienwhoops and runs over to tackle-hug you both; the impact sends you three into acuddle pile on the floor. “I’m going to be a big brother!” You laugh and coverDamien’s hand with your own.

🎣 “Dad… what are you doing?” You lift your headand peer over the book you’ve been reading while Brian got to work building a nurseryfrom scratch. Daisy is standing in the doorframe, watching with a confused lookas her father hammered nails into a wooden plank. He was vibrating withexcitement, like you and Craig used to on four cups of coffee spiked withenergy drinks. The fact that the news made him so happy still fills you withjoy. “Building a-“ Brian trails off and shoots you a look. You gesture him tocarry on; there was no reason why she shouldn’t know. Brian puts aside thehammer and walks over to his daughter, sweeping her up into a hug that left herfeet dangling above the floor. “—nursery for your baby brother or sister! Y/Nis pregnant! I’m going to be a father again and you’re going to be a bigsister! Isn’t that great, Daisy?!” Daisy doesn’t reply. You feel a pang ofworry in your chest at her expression. She doesn’t look happy at all. Brianlowers his daughter to the floor again and kneels down to look at her face. “Daisy,dear? Aren’t you happy?” Daisy starts fidgeting and wrings her hands. “I am,but…” She averts her eyes. “What if I won’t be a good big sister? I can’t teachthem anything besides school stuff…” Standing up, you cross the distance andtoo kneel in front of her. “You’ll be a great big sister. Besides, Amanda isthere, too, and together you’ll be the bestest sisters in the world.” Daisypulls a face. “It’s best, Y/N.” Youwink and pull her into your arms.

👟 “No.” “But—“ “No, absolutely not.” “But, bro—“ “Craig,I won’t let you name my child Meadow or Forrest.” Craig gives you his patentedpuppy eyes, complete with a pout, and you feel your resolve crumble. “How aboutRain? Or Willow? Flint? Sterling?” You groan and throw up your hands. “How areyou even coming up with all these names? Do you have, like, a list?” Craig’ssheepish look is all the answer you need. You turn around and walk into theliving room, throwing yourself down on the couch and turning on whateverreality-TV show is currently on air. Craig trails after you and you scoot overto make space. After a few minutes of silence you lift your head and look downat River, who is playing with Arnold on a blanket. “Hey, River?” She looks upat you. “You’re going to be a big sister. How does that make you feel?” River wavesArnold around. “Sisa!” You turn to Craig. “One down, two to go. Your job.”Craig laughs. “That’s unfair, bro. You got the easy part.” You nudge him withhis foot. “I’ll remind you of what you said once I’m moody and have swollenfeet.”About halfway through the second episode the front door is opened and in stormHazel and Briar. Craig slips out from behind you and starts preparing lunch,while you play with River, trying to get her to say “Relax”. At least, youplanned on playing with her, but suddenly the twins come running back andtackle you, making you fall on your back with an ‘oof’. “Is it going to be agirl or a boy?” “How long until they are born?” “Did you already pick a name?” “Howabout Birch?” You groan again and cover your face with your arm. You canpractically feel Craig’s smug look on you.

📖 Ernest’s reaction to your pregnancy had been asexpected: He cursed, he threw tantrums, he seemed to hate you even more thanbefore. Hugo had warned you it might happen; what neither of you expected washow much he changed as your belly grew, how he seemed to come around to theprospect of a baby in the household. More than once, after coming home fromwork, you found him standing in the room you had converted into the nursery androcking the crib back and forth. You never mentioned anything and left beforehe noticed you. Now, the day has finally come and Ernest seemed even morenervous than either you or Hugo. He keeps throwing nervous glances at you,every gasp or hiss leaving your mouth making him look even more worried. “Don’tworry, Ernest,” you tell him with a weak smile. “It’s not my first rodeo.” Hescoffs, clearly embarrassed at being found out, but nods and turns to face theroad again. The delivery goes without any problems and after a few hoursshouting at the top of your lungs and squeezing Hugo’s hand, your beautifuldaughter is lying on your chest, fast asleep. Hugo is sitting next to you,still crying, holding your daughter’s tiny hand in his much larger ones. Thedoor opens and Ernest tentatively steps into the room. His eyes go wide when hesees his half-sister, but he doesn’t move. You wave him over and carefully pickup your child, offering it to him. You’ve never seen him handle something withso much care and reverence before. “What’s her name?” He asks; you act like youdidn’t hear his voice crack. “Mary Shelley Vega-[Y/N].”

#dream daddy #dream daddy: a dad dating simulator #dream daddy a dad dating simulator #ddadds #ddadds imagine #Anonymous

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purple-possibilities · 7 years

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Hi, love your blog!! (Don't usually reblog because my blog isn't really for anime, but I love seeing you on my dash!) Just wanted to let you know that I've got all the people I'm working with today (as in, I don't know any of these people and will never see them again) (we're setting up tables) to scream "THE POWER OF YOUTH!!" every time we lift a table. The best part? All of them are literal grandmas. I hope Gai is proud of me.

Hey! Firstly, thanks so much, that’s really sweet of you to say. I’m glad to hear that!

Secondly, (and more importantly) OH MY GOD THAT IS AMAZING! That’s on my bucket list now. I can just imagine how hilarious and amazing that would be to watch/be apart of. Gai is so sooo proud of you, in fact, I can hear him now…

“YYYYYYOSH! It is one thing to hear that a group of Lovely Lotus Blossoms are Working Hard Together—despite being total strangers—to complete a most Youthful Mission, but”—Gai’s voice warbles as Tears of Youth start pouring from his eyes—“to hear”—he chokes up a bit—“that they employed”—his voice gains strength, and he practically booms out—“THE POWER OF YOUTH”—Gai is rapidly striking various poses, unable to choose which is most Youthful, tears still streaming down his cheeks—“TO MOTIVATE ONE ANOTHER, AND TO CELEBRATE AND DEMONSTRATE THAT EVEN GRANDMOTHERS CAN STILL BE IN THE PEAK OF THE SPRINGTIME OF YOUTH, IS THE MOST DAZZLING, SPECTACULAR, AND YOUTHFUL DEMONSTRATION I HAVE EVER HEARD OF! YOSH!!!” Gai finally settles on his Good Gai Pose, one hand on his hip, the other brandishing a thumbs-up like a trophy, while behind him blooms a glorious sunset over a beach, complete with fireworks in the shape of lotus flowers and the word ‘YOUTH’ exploding in the illusion’s sky. Gai turns swiftly towards Lee, who is similarity moved by the news and inflamed with passion from Gai’s speech. “LEE! TAKE NOTE!!”

Lee rapidly scrambles to pull out his notebook and pen, finding them with ease despite the excited trembling affecting his entire body. With the items in his hands, Lee snaps his feet together and pumps out an almost violent salute, bellowing, “YES, GAI-SENSEI!!!” before slamming his pen onto a clean page and scribbling down both the story and Gai-sensei’s reaction—a small drawing of Gai’s chosen genjutsu being outlined to be coloured in later. Gai’s arm juts out, looping around his youthful student’s shoulders and jerking the boy into his side to check that Lee’s notes are appropriate.

“LEE! As always, your Youthful Enthusiasm Alights my Heart with enough Passion to Pump Out One-Thousand Push-Ups right Here and Now.” Gai’s words cause Lee’s pen to pause as a wide grin splits his face, a red flush blooming on his cheeks all the way up to his ears and down his neck to disappear under his Green Jumpsuit. “However,” Gai continues, a tad somber, “you have Missed the Point of our Youthful Muse’s Actions.”

Lee’s elation has dimmed—his posture slumping slightly—but not his enthusiasm. Always the eager student, and never deterred when being corrected, Lee’s back snaps straight, his body fully turned to face his sensei, hands (still clutching his notebook and pen) balled under his chin. Bowing his head, Lee’s voice is contrite despite his volume as he utters a most heartfelt apology, tacking on the familiar plea, “PLEASE TEACH ME, GAI-SENSEI!!!”

Gai, with a proud smirk on his face for his student’s excellent work ethic and unbreakable determination, affects his Lecturing Pose: one finger pointed skywards, the other hand on his hip, his head titled high and his eyes closed thoughtfully (it was hard working that one out in the mirror—not even Gai can see through closed eyes, despite how much he’s tried—but Lee’s continued, reverent response to this Pose is always reassuring). “Our Most Youthful Muse’s actions were the Perfect Demonstration of the Springtime of Youth in Action, that is Certain.” Gai’s Lecturing Voice is still booming, but manages to be soft on the edges. “However, taking note of that will only help you in one situation. What’s most Important, is to understand the Lesson—as my Hip and Too Cool Rival would say—Underneath the Underneath.” Gai pauses dramatically, and all that can be heard is the frantic scribble of Lee’s pen.

“You see,” Gai continues, “Life is known for throwing us into Unexpected Situations—that is doubly so, for the life of a ninja—but how we react in those Situations is what defines who we are as people. Our Youthful Muse was faced with a Worthy Mission, to be sure, but surrounded by unknowns. Instead of letting that be intimidating, our Muse found a way to not only Transform said Mission into an Exciting Challenge, but also managed to Create New Bonds and inspire the Power of Youth in all who were present. Our Muse is a Shining Example of how the Springtime of Youth is not merely a phase, or a Way of Life, but a State of Mind. It is the Will to take on anything with Passion and Hard Work, to make the Most of any Situation! It can Bloom in us all, regardless of our age, or how Tough a Challenge!”

Gai takes a moment to peek out from one eye to check on his student. Tears of Youth are streaming down Lee’s face, so overwhelmed is he by Gai’s passionate words of wisdom. Despite those tears, Lee is still diligently taking notes—even if they were more like messy scribbles, due to the excitement still causing shudders to overtake his body, and his blurred vision. Gai feels the Pride that is always present whenever he looks at his students Bloom once more, the intensity of the feeling almost overwhelming him—almost, because Konoha’s Noble Green Beast was never overwhelmed, simply Challenging his Limits.

Content with his student, Gai is ready to present the moral of his lesson.

“It is this same Ethos that manages to Enflame even my Cool Blooded Eternal Rival—and my own Youthful Self, of course—allowing us to make any Task or Mission a Worthy Rival Challenge! From Janken to Drink—ah, ahem—Eating Contests, to Races and Spars! Our Muse has seen what only the most Sage Lotuses can See: that Life is merely a series of Worthy Challenges set before us. And, by using the Power of Youth, not only will our Springtime be ever Blossoming, but our Friends, Comrades, and even strangers, will be Swept Up in the Fragrant Flowers of our Youthful Spirits, setting Fire to the Blood and Bringing People from all walks of Life Together in the most Beautiful Display of Harmony!” Gai is crying again, and Lee, so overwhelmed with emotion, can no longer focus on his writing.

“GAI-SENSEI!” Lee calls, one arm covering his eyes in an attempt to stop the stream of tears.

“LEE!” Gai’s arms spread open.

“GAI-SENSEI!” Lee launches himself into Gai’s arms.

“LEE!” The pair embrace, squishing their faces together, their tears mingling, a sunset blooming behind them, cherry blossoms billowing delicately in the illusion’s wind.

“And that, Lee, my wonderful student,” Gai adds, his voice nasally from crying, “is the Pinnacle of what it means to Celebrate the Springtime of Youth.”

“T-thank you, for the Lesson, Gai-sensei!” Lee sputters through his tears.

Gai puffs up with pride once more, content in the knowledge that not only is his youthful student well on the path to Eternal Youth, but that others—even those he has never met—are taking these lessons to heart, and spreading the Joy and Energy of the Springtime of Youth with the world.

Yeah, I think he’s proud 😜

#maito gai #rock lee #springtime of youth #answered asks #musingsofanintp #just a little piece I wrote

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