#for that strange midnight writing burst from last night

[rea-grimm]

Dragon of Masyaf 3

The night before you had your first patrol in the watchtower. The assassin who was supposed to replace you was late and you returned to your room later than planned. Therefore, it was no surprise when you finally woke up in the morning and noticed that the sun was suspiciously high.

You immediately jumped to your feet as you looked out the window and noticed that the day was already in full swing. In addition, you should have reported to the Grandmaster for the next lesson. You slipped into your uniform as fast as you could and adjusted your belt as you ran.

You almost bumped into several people along the way. One dropped the scrolls he was carrying in shock and the other almost fell over the railing. You took the stairs two at a time, it's a wonder the last one didn't slip under your feet.

Altair was waiting for you in his office and was just writing something down when you burst in like an unguided missile. You were glad you were wearing a hood since you didn't even have time to do your hair. Before you could catch your breath, you started apologizing for being late. It was a rare case for you, so he let it go this time.

The Grandmaster stood up from the table and looked you over with a look that indicated trouble. He always looked like this when someone did something or didn't do it the way he was supposed to. You mentally braced yourself for the worst when the master just sighed.

"That belt will only get in the way. You'll get tangled in it," he said disapprovingly.

"I'm sorry. I'll fix it right away," you replied and started untying it.

“I'll show you how,” he said as he walked over to you and took the belt from your hand before getting into the proper binding. The way he was crouched, you were thankful he couldn't see your face, which was now as red as the belt.

You felt awkward and were glad that no one here saw you like this. You tried to look everywhere you could, but your eyes always drifted to him anyway. Still with the belt in hand, Altair stood up, leaned over and began to adjust it from behind. You didn't even move.

"Okay, done," he said happily. You expected him to pull away immediately, but he didn't even move. You felt him rub his face against your forehead.

"You smell wonderful," he muttered almost inaudibly before finally pulling away. His eyes were burning with lust.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, feeling your face still burning as your heart raced. Altair smiled for a moment before tilting his head and as if nothing had happened between the two of you, he began to explain to you what was to come today.

It was around midnight when an earthquake hit Masyaf. Fortunately, it wasn't a big deal, but it was still felt. You were on patrol walking around the catacombs when you felt it. Moreover, you had the impression that it was coming from there. You gripped the torch tighter and headed inside.

You walked through a simple tunnel for the first few meters until you reached a familiar pillared room that was so vast you couldn't see the end. You always lost Altair in this room. You hesitated whether to go on.

You tried to find some clues in the torchlight that would tell you where to go. You didn't have the eagle eye like your master, but on the other hand, you had excellent intuition. Although Altair stood his ground that with the right training, you can learn it too.

Deeply excited, you closed your eyes and concentrated. When you opened your eyes again, you had the impression that everything around you was darker, even the fire in your hand lost its colour. Instead, you saw a flickering golden light in the distance. However, it was too far away for you to recognize what it was.

After a few seconds, the golden light disappeared and everything returned to its original colors. After that, you directly went to where you saw the light.

When you finally reached the end of the room, a giant stone gate stood before you. You didn't understand how such a gate could even be opened. You looked at the strange symbols that covered the gate and that almost came to life under the light.

You raised your hand intending to touch those symbols to see if it was a puzzle or something. Masyaf was known for such things. Instead of cold stone, your fingers went through. You ran your fingers through the void for a moment before withdrawing your hand again. 

After a moment of hesitation, you reached for the gate again. This time you tried to feel some edges or an obstacle. The whole gate must have been one big illusion because your hand stopped at its edges.

Now more than ever you wondered what was on the other side. With your hand out in front of you, you touched the illusion before taking one big step and walking through. You had long ago learned to face fear and danger with your eyes open, but you still found yourself holding your breath.

You couldn't see anything for a moment before your view opened up to a vast room full of gold and all sorts of treasures. Some piles of gold were several meters high. You marvelled at all the wealth that was here and placed the torch in the holder on the edge of the wall. There were bowls of fire in the room to light it, so a torch was unnecessary.

Now was the time to explore. You walked around the first pile of gold and immediately stopped in your tracks. Now you were grateful for your training and the special shoes that made you walk as quietly as a cat. Behind the pile of gold lay a giant beast with white and golden scales. With his eyes closed he looked like he was sleeping.

You stood there, not daring to approach. You didn't want to accidentally wake the creature. The creature had a long elegant body with scales as white as fresh snow and some glittering with gold.

His large wings were pressed against his body and slowly rose and fell with each breath he took. He also had white and gold horns curled forward. As you examined his head, you noticed a scar that ran across his right lip. It kind of reminded you of Altair.

You took a few steps to the side when you noticed one small amulet with a dragon symbol, its body resembling the assassin symbol lying next to a pile of gold. The amulet caught your eye immediately and before you knew it you were heading towards it.

In no time you had the amulet in your hand. At that moment you had the impression that the dragon had moved. You didn't want to risk the beast waking up and having you for a snack. That's why you better leave with the amulet.

You were glad that no one was looking for you because according to the moon, you had the impression that there would be a changing of the guards soon.

The next day you were supposed to have training with one of the mentors early in the morning. As you walked out, you automatically put the locket around your neck. Although you had it partially hidden, it was still visible. When you arrived at the training ground, your mentor told you that Altair wanted to see you. You didn't understand why he would call you.

“Safety and peace,” you greeted as you walked into his study.

"Safety and peace to you too," Altair replied, moving closer to you. You had the impression that today his eyes were burning gold more than ever. 

He looked you over from head to toe when he noticed the locket. He took it in his hand and examined it while it was still on your neck. You had no idea what to do. He must have known you took him from the cave.

"You should keep it. It suits you," he said just as you were about to confess and smiled. He didn't smile very often, although you had the impression that he smiled more often when you were around. He let go of the amulet and stopped smiling.

"However, that doesn't excuse you from being underground," he said sternly. And it was here. Scolding. What if he kicked you out of the brotherhood for that? Or will you not be much of an assassin anymore?

"Those underground passages are vast and even the best can get lost there. What if you can't find your way back?" he asked you still sternly even though you heard something else in his voice. 

In the end, he reprimanded you about why you shouldn't go there and about the traps and dangers that were there. You got extra training to avoid any more wanderings like this.

You were supposed to make up one of your extra lessons that night. A leap of faith in the night. The leap of faith was difficult in itself for beginners and it was worse at night. Although you already had several jumps behind you, but now that you could not properly see the bottom, it was something else.

You stood on the ledge and looked around. You knew they were changing the hay under one of them, so there was nothing there. However, you didn't know which one it was.

You were looking around trying to find a haystack, completely oblivious to your surroundings. You knew that the Grandmaster himself was watching over you, but you knew that there were other novices as well. One of them was probably celebrating because he was hanging around and you noticed a bottle in one corner. You tried to ignore it and focus on the jump.

You finally remembered where the hay was missing and wanted to get off the ledge as soon as possible. Unfortunately for you, the drunk novice was hanging around you, and to keep his balance, he pushed you with such force that you staggered yourself. You had nothing to grab onto and before you knew it, you were falling into darkness.

You screamed and noticed something white rush behind you. It was Altair. He caught you in his arms before you hit the hard ground. He held your feet with one hand and protected your head with the other. You didn't see anything, but you felt the Grandmaster land on his feet. You didn't understand how he could do something like that.

"Aren't you hurt?" he asked you as he laid you down and checked you over to see if you were hurt. It was the first or maybe the second time you saw fear in his face. However, you were more interested in his eyes, which seemed to glow in the dark and the pupils were narrowed like a snake's.

“I'm fine,” you shooked your head. Although you were still taken aback by what happened, you were otherwise fine. You could see that he was a little relieved and the worry on his face was replaced by anger.

"Can you make it from here?" he asked.

"I can. The path is lit so it's no problem," you replied. That was enough for him as an answer. He turned his back on you and started running. 

You had the impression that something was fluttering behind him. You'd compare it to a bat's wings and a snake's tail, but in the dark, it could just be your imagination. As you made your way back outside the gates of Masyaf, you could hear the Grandmaster scolding the drunken novice. You had the impression that the entire fortress heard it.

Assassin's Creed Masterlist

#assassin's creed #assassin's creed x reader #altair x reader #altair #altaïr ibn la'ahad #dragon #dragon altair #dragon of masyaf

[age-of-greta]

The Lovers

The Lovers represent relationships and choices. Its appearance in a spread indicates some decision about an existing relationship, a temptation of the heart, or a choice of potential partners. Often an aspect of the querent's life will have to be sacrificed; a bachelor's lifestyle may be sacrificed and a relationship gaine, or one potential partner may be chosen while another is turned down. Whatever the choice, it should not be made lightly, as the ramifications will be lasting.

Pairing: Jake x reader & Sam x reader

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, angst, adult content, all the sexual content, minors DNI

Word count: 5.4k

Author’s note: hi!! the LAST chapter is here I cannot believe it! This fic has truly been so fun to write and I cannot thank you enough for following along. With that being said, I am happy to announce I have a new story in the works and will start posting in January! As always, this fic has two parts then and today. I proofread, but typos happen. Epilogue will be out next Wednesday at midnight. Buckle up and enjoy!!!

PART 13:

THEN:

“Listen, I think you could fit in my suitcase.” Jake says, throwing shirts around in his bag.

You laugh at him. “After the spaghetti you made, I’m not so sure.”

Jake looks up at you and huffs a little. “Are you sure you can’t come?”

“Jake” you sigh. “As much as I would like to, I can’t just fly to Europe and abandon all responsibilities. I have an important case coming up next week.”

You had driven to Nashville for the weekend. The boys were starting their European summer tour in a few days and you volunteered to drive them to the airport. You were saddened by the idea of not seeing them for over a month, but in a strange way you thought it would help distance your feelings for Jake. Whenever you were away from him for an extended period of time, you felt it made your feelings easier to push to the side. You had a hunch Jake knew this and that’s why he was especially reluctant to go.

Jake lets out a long breath before responding. “Okay, fine. But we need to figure out a schedule where we can at least FaceTime or something.”

You smile a little at that. “I think that could probably be arranged.”

He walks over to you and puts his hands on your arms. “God, how am I going to go a month without touching you?”

“Technically over a month.” You add.

“That’s it. You’re getting in my suitcase.” Jake says, as he lightly picks you up and takes you towards the bed.

You start giggling your head off. Jake sets you down on the bed and looks down at you. His eyes are soft and gentle, but his gaze is intense. You both stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, then Jake leans in and softly kisses your lips. You feel an aching burn for him in your heart. The next month was going to suck. The kissing turns into a passionate almost make out before you’re interrupted.

“Jake, do you have my backpack in here? Ah fuck.” Josh says, barging into the room.

Jake rolls off of you and sighs. “Josh, remember how we knock before we enter rooms?”

“Yes Jake, I’m aware. However you’re supposed to be packing, not canoodling all over your tour clothes. Also you have a lock” Josh says.

“I wouldn’t need a lock if you knocked. Your goddamn backpack is in the studio behind the amps I think. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a month's worth of canoodling to do, so off you go.” Jake says, getting up and shuffling Josh out of the room.

Josh laughs at his boldness and mumbles some comparison of you two being like bunnies on his way out.

Jake locks the door and turns around back to you. “Where were we? Ah yes, canoodling.”

You burst out laughing at that. “You need to finish packing. You’re going to be so tired in the morning.”

“It’s true I do need to finish packing. It’s also true that we’re going to both be tired tomorrow. I apologize lover, but it’s my last night with you for the foreseeable future and I need to give you plenty of memories to think about when you miss me.”

You try to remain unphased at Jake’s words, but they definitely have you worked up. “Well then you better get to packing and then get over here.”

Jake smirks at you. “Yes ma’am.”

**

The next morning was chaotic. Everyone was running around trying to pack last minute things and making sure they had everything they needed for their trip. You tried your best to help, but when the arguing started you took yourself out of the equation. It was always like this, frantic, excited, and unprepared when the tour started. But this was a little different, Jake was in a mood to say the least. He has been biting off everyone’s head, but yours. Finally you got everyone in your car and the tour company sent over a truck for the instruments and everything else that wouldn’t fit. You looked over at Jake as you pulled out of the driveway. It seemed like there was a permanent scowl on his face. He lightened it when he met your eyes, attempted a small smile, and placed his hand on your leg.

“Everyone ready?” You asked.

Everyone answered almost in unison. Then you were off. The drive wasn’t too long until you reached the airport. You tried to mellow the vibes as you played John Denver in the background. There wasn’t much talking, everyone was tired and stressed. You could tell Jake was on edge too. You pulled up to the drop off lane and everyone gathered their things. You opened your door and got out while the guys unloaded their suitcases.

“Thanks for driving us! We’ll miss you.” Danny says, as he pulls you into a hug.

“Bye mama.” Josh says, kissing your cheek. “Tell Jake to get his ass off his shoulders please.”

You laugh at him and Jake rolls his eyes.

“Bye Sammy, safe travels.” You say hugging him, he hugs you tightly. He looks down at you and gives you a smile. “Try not to get too bored without me.”

Jake steps in front of you and lets out a sigh while pulling you into his chest. “Fuck.” Is all he says.

“I know.” You say back, softly.

Jake holds you for a minute before you start to pull away.

“You better be off. You’re going to miss your flight.” You say with as much courage as you can muster.

Jake looks down at you with sad eyes. “I’ll text you when we land.”

“Be safe.” You say.

“I will. There’s someone I have to get back to.” Jake says as he smiles at you. “Be good.”

You laugh a little. “Always.”

Jake pulls you into a final hug and grabs your cheek before planting a soft and slow kiss on your lips.

“Jake, I know this is a hallmark moment and all but we really have to go.” Josh says.

Jake lets out a breath and looks at you. “See you soon lover.”

You nod at him and watch him walk away. They all wave as you get in your car. You can’t even tell that your eyes are teary until you’re back on the interstate. This break is going to be good, you tell yourself. It’s going to allow you to bottle these feelings up. When they come back you’ll be detached enough, you’re pretty sure Jake knows that.

**

“Hi there.” You say, as you answer your FaceTime.

It had been two weeks since they had left for tour and it had gotten easier everyday. You mainly focused on work and spending time with Lana.

“Hey lover. Did you receive something in the mail today?”

Jake asks.

“I did. It smells really nice, thank you.” You say picking up the bottle of perfume and showing him.

Jake smiles. “We were in a small apothecary shop in Paris and I found it. It was so unique, you had to have it.”

“I really do like it. I have a question for you.” You pitch.

Jake hums at you. “Ask away.”

“The first weekend you get back. Are you busy?” You ask.

Jake chuckles. “Yes, very busy actually.”

You frown a little. “Oh.”

“With you lover. I need you to clear your schedule.” He says wearing a smirk.

You huff. “Well there is a music festival in my hometown that weekend. I thought maybe we could go the first day?”

Jake beams a smile at you. “I suppose that could be arranged, but after can you come to Nashville for the weekend?��

You smile back at him. “I suppose that could also be arranged.”

***

TODAY:

“Hi…” Jake said standing in your doorway.

“Oh hi.” You say quietly.

“May I come in?” Jake says.

You stare at him for a moment before taking a step back and opening the door wider for him to enter. Jake walks in and sits on your couch. You turn the TV off and stand there across from him up against the wall. It’s silent for a minute before Jake begins.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” Jake says, running his fingers through his hair. “I just don’t know what to say.”

You sigh a little. “Jake, if you came here to break up with me I have clearly already gotten the message. This is unnecessary.” You say.

Jake looks up at you with a scowl. “No actually that’s not why I’m fucking here. I’m trying to find a way to fucking forgive you- I don’t know get past all the shit.”

You scoff a little and look at the floor. “Seems like you have already moved on.”

“Are you serious? You’re going to say that to me after fucking my brother? You know I saw the picture you two took that night. That dress you were wearing? No wonder you two fucked. You were sober and consciously wanted him to see you like that.”

“You fucking ghosted me Jake! You left me and Sam was there. That’s all. It didn’t take me leaving you for you to find your way with someone else.” You reply with spite.

“Because I brought Jessica last night?” He says standing up.

“Yeah well of course it had to be her Jake. I just don’t know why it couldn’t have been someone else.” You say cowering a little because you know how it sounds.

Jake laughs a little. “You are really not the one to talk here.”

“Then why show up with her last night and then kiss me? What sense does that fucking make Jake?” You say.

Jake sighs. “I only invited her because I knew it would piss you off. I didn’t fucking lay a finger on her like that.”

You’re quiet for a few seconds.

“But you know I could have.” He says taking a step forward. “I absolutely could have fucked her. I thought about it, many times actually. I could have texted her when I was home for Christmas and she would have been eager to come right over. I could have taken her back to my hotel last night and fucked her raw on the desk. In fact I could be fucking her right now.”

You feel like you’re going to vomit hearing Jake say that. Your stomach is twisting in knots and you want to scream and cry simultaneously.

“Okay I fucking get it Jake. Congratulations. Why don’t you fucking go ahead and do it. Go fuck her. You act like you’re so innocent. I was going through it and you said oh well! Fuck it! Deal with it on your own.” You say with rage.

Jake seems to soften for a moment before speaking again. “I know and I’m sorry. I already apologized for that. I think about what would be different if I would have fucking acted differently, but we can’t go back in time can we sweetheart?”

The edge in his voice is back. You want to roll your eyes, but refrain.

“But I didn’t fuck her. I couldn’t. You know why?” Jake pauses and looks at you with intentful eyes. “She wasn’t you. As much as I tried to stop thinking about you I couldn’t. When I saw you last night I was almost brought to my knees. You looked so beautiful in that dress, you changed your hair, you were wearing the perfume I got you. You looked like you were thriving without me and that stung. So fucking bad. The thought of not being your New Year's Kiss burned me up inside. So I kissed you, and I felt better in those three seconds than I had in weeks. At that moment I knew I would never be over you.”

A wave of hope washes over you. You can feel your heart swelling, aching for Jake.

“I tried to call you. Multiple times.” You say meekly.

“I know. I’ve been working through some shit. You did fuck my brother you know.” Jake sighs before continuing. “I can’t even begin to explain to you how that feels. I always knew Sam had a crush on you, it was obvious from the start. Then he flat out told me he had feelings for you. Of course, this was in the beginning when you and I were fucking around. I didn’t stop, because I obviously cared about you too. Then they all found out about us. It was pathetic the way he continued to pine over you, even with my fucking arm wrapped around you. I let it go for the most part, that seemed to have been a mistake.”

You’re quiet. Unsure of what to say, unsure of what to think.

Jake steps forward. “Did you enjoy fucking my little brother?”

You shoot him a glare before looking at the ground.

Jake takes another step closer to you. “Did he make you cum?”

You look at him almost bewildered. “What?”

“You heard me. Did. He. Make. You. Cum.” Jake says, stepping right up to you.

You swallow hard. “Jake don’t-“

“Answer.” He says.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. “Yes.”

He breathes in before he continues. “Was he better?”

“No. Of course not. You know that.” You say making a face at him.

“Do you love him?” He says, almost in a desperate way, pain behind those words.

“No Jake. Not like I love you. I love no one like I love you.” You choke out, as your heart sinks.

Jake stares at you for a moment before moving closer, only inches away from you. His eyes are searing down at you, he looks hurt but also like he wants to fuck you until you can’t move. You don’t hesitate to look up at him, you have hot tears formed in your eyes and your throat has a lump in it that burns profusely. Jake wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug. Once the initial shock wears off, you hug him back tighter. You’re both breathing shakily and you don’t know what this means for you, but it feels good. Hot tears stream down your face and collect onto Jake’s flannel. He holds you for a few minutes before releasing you and kissing you softly. His lips are warm and electric and fuck have you missed them. You kiss him back gingerly, but then Jake deepens it. His hands start to roam around you, and you’re putty in his hands. You think you’re about to have passionate and needy sex, but that dissipates when Jake puts you up against the wall. His soft kisses soon turn aggressive, and he’s digging his hands into you now. Jake bites your bottom lip before stopping for a second.

“I love you angel, but tonight I’m going to fuck you like the slut you’ve been. Remember your safe word?” Jake asks, wiping the tears off of your cheeks.

You nod your head wide-eyed. He still loves you. “Yes.” You squeak out.

“Say it.” Jake growls.

“Lavender.” You half whisper.

Then his lips are back on you. He’s being so rough, but fuck do you love it. His hands find the hem of your shirt and he pulls it over your head. You aren’t wearing a bra and his hands are instantly on your breasts. Jake kisses down your neck and slides your shorts off leaving you just in your black panties and fluffy socks. His hands find the swell of your ass and he grabs it hard, biting down on your collarbone simultaneously. You moan out a bit and start to get exceptionally worked up. You try to unbutton Jake’s flannel, but he knocks your hands away.

“Nope.” He says.

Jake then kisses you more, guiding you off the wall into your bedroom. Jake sits you down on the bed and steps back from you.

“Look at you. So fucking pretty.” Jake taunts and he unbuttons and removes his shirt. “Such a shame that you’re such a slut. Sluts get punished. Sluts don’t get to cum until I say so. Understood?”

You nod.

“Words.” Jake spits out.

“Yes Jake.” You say.

“Remember your safe word?” He asks.

“Yes.” You reply.

“Good girl.” Jake praises.

He is down to his boxers now, you can see how hard he is. You knew tonight wouldn’t be easy. Jake was going to push you. That excited you and terrified you, but you knew you could take it. More so, you wanted it. Jake is kneeling down before you kissing your thighs, his fingers teasing your pantyline. You’re more than turned on. He pulls your panties around your ankles and starts kissing around your center. Jake dips his fingers into you and you gasp out.

“Mhm. So sweet.” Jake says, almost inaudible between your legs.

You try to sit still, but when Jake plunges two fingers in deeper you tilt your head back and like muscle memory your hand is wrapped in his hair. Jake lets it slide for a few minutes before he feels you start to shake.

“Not so fast angel.” Jake says coming up.

You whimper slightly at the loss of contact. Jake flips you over so your ass is up in the air.

“Gotta do something about those hands.” Jake says walking into your bathroom before returning with your black silk robe tie.

Jake pulls your arms back and ties your hands together behind your back. You won’t be able to touch yourself. Jake runs his hand all over your ass. Lightly smacking. Then he smacks your ass harder, and harder until your skin stings and you’re sure there will be a welp. It hurts, but it also feels so good.

“Fucking whore. Goddamn.” Jake spits out, moaning that last word a little.

It’s probably wrong but that turned you on even more. You can sense that he is removing his boxers now and you are dripping with anticipation. He rubs his member all down your slit as you lightly moan out. Jake doesn’t go slow, he plunges straight into you. You let out a half whimper, half moan, and your whole core is burning. You haven’t been fucked like this in a while and goddamn did you love it.

“Fuck Jake- please.” You whine out hoping he will untie you so you can touch yourself.

“Shut the fuck up and take it, sorority girl.” Jake seethes, annunciating the nickname while thrusting into you.

Hearing that formed a lump in your throat, not of sadness… but excitement? Holy shit. Jake continues to pound into you and he laces his fingers in your hair. He lightly tugs before wrapping that hand around your throat and pulling you up to him. He doesn’t get too aggressive here, you know he would never actually hurt you. He lightly squeezes at your throat causing you to spiral in your pleasure.

“Who fucks you like this?” Jake says in your ear.

You moan out. “Fuck. No one Jake. No one but you. No one could ever make me feel like this but you. No one could ever fuck me like this but you.”

Jake inhales sharply at this; but continues to fuck you. His fingers on his freehand slip down below your navel, swirling around your clit. He’s rewarding you. When you’re close yet again, Jake removes his fingers. You have tears pooling in your eyes from the constant edging. Jake drops you back down to the bed and pulls at the silk around your hands until you’re free. He pulls out of you and flips you back around. He climbs on you and takes your hands holding them both above your head. He dives in and sucks and bites at your neck while entering you again.

“Jake.” You shutter. “Please let me touch you baby.” You whine.

Jake looks at you and then kisses your lips before letting go of your hands. You immediately pull Jake closer and run your hands all up and down his back. It seems that his aggressive edge has softened and he’s close. You lace your fingers in his hair and tug while he slips his tongue in your mouth.

“Fuck. Touch yourself angel I’m about to cum.” Jake says in between kisses.

You don’t have to be told twice. You keep one hand in Jake’s hair and send the other down to your clit. You swirl your fingers and it’s not long until you're throbbing around him.

“Oh fuck.” Jake moans out clamping his eyes shut and his mouth is hanging agape.

He cums right after you start, and you both ride out your orgasms. You’re both a sweaty mess of curse words, praises, and moans. The next few minutes you both just lay there breathing. Jake pressed his forehead to yours and left it there for a minute. When he finally rolls off of you he looks over and quietly asks, “Did I go too far?”

“No, not at all.” You reply still sweaty and fucked out.

“Are you sure?” He asks, furrowing his brows slightly.

“I’m positive.” You say lightly smiling.

“I love you.” Jake says, lowly.

Your heart melts at that. “I love you too.” You say back.

Jake jumps up and tells you not to move while he gets a washcloth to clean you up.

**

You and Jake had spent the rest of the night talking, crying, and apologizing. You woke up the next morning in his arms. It was January 2nd now and you and Jake had spent all day together in your apartment. You ordered takeout, drank wine, fucked, joked, watched movies, and cuddled. It seemed like things were returning to somewhat normalcy? Jake told you that he wanted things to go back to how they were, before the beach trip. He didn’t want to harp or discuss the incidents. You had agreed, but somewhere in your stomach you felt guilt. Guilt for Sam.

Had you really been stringing him along? You loved Sam, and perhaps if you hadn't met Jake you could see something there. You would never dare say that out loud. But you did meet Jake. You loved Jake. You couldn’t imagine it being anyone else, but Jake. But you wanted Sam to be okay, you wanted your friendship back.

On the 3rd of January you were sitting on your kitchen island in only Jake’s flannel sipping coffee and watching Jake cook breakfast. You still hadn’t replied to Sam’s text, it was eating you up. You and Jake had a blissful almost 48 hours, but it was time to face the music.

“Jake?” You started sipping from your mug.

He looked over at you with a spatula in hand. “Yes lover?”

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” You ask cautiously.

Jake furrows his brows at you. “I’m not leaving tomorrow. What do you mean?”

Fuck. He didn’t tell you that. Sam did. You had just assumed.

“Oh. Sam texted me telling me he was leaving on the 4th, so I just assumed you all were. He wanted to grab lunch before he left.” You say as your stomach churns.

Jake huffs and stays quiet for a little bit. “Yeah, we were supposed to. But I’m staying here for a few more days if that’s okay.”

You nod your head.

“As far as Sam goes, you should talk with him. As fucked up as all of this is I love you both. This shit should all just be put to bed. Though I don’t mean literally.” Jake says shooting you a look.

You can’t help, but slightly laugh at that. “I just don’t know what to say to him. I feel like I have fucked up royally.”

Jake wipes his hands on your towel hanging on the oven handle. “Yeah well you have. But that doesn’t erase the year plus of friendship between you two. I know you love Sam. I know he loves you too, maybe a little too much. At the end of the day neither one of you are going anywhere. You might as well try and patch things up.”

Jake has a sour tone towards the end, but you know he’s being genuine.

“You’re right. I can see if he wants to meet up tomorrow before the flight?” You question.

“No need. We should all just go to dinner tonight. I need to apologize to Jessica as well. She has been blowing my phone up. I know you’re not her biggest fan, neither am I, but it was wrong for me to use her to make you jealous.”

You huff out at that name. If Jake can let it go, then so can you. “I suppose it’s damage control night then. Have you told your brothers that we are back together?”

“Nope. I haven’t talked to them other than to text them that I’m safe. I’m sure they think I’m out on a bender wallowing in self-pity about seeing you.”

You laugh at that. “Oh you’re not?” You say jokingly.

Jake smirks at you. “Shut up and come eat your french toast.”

**

You had texted Sam and asked him to dinner, but to invite everyone so you could say bye. You told him that you two could talk at the bar and grab drinks before dinner. You neglected to mention that Jake was coming with you. Josh had texted Jake inviting him to dinner, of course Jake agreed. You were nervous about tonight, but it made you happier that Jake would be there with you.

You had on a black long sleeve bodysuit that dips down a little, with light wash mom jeans with ripped knees. You put beach’s waves in your hair and did a full face as it was night, but also Jessica would be there, so. You wore taupe heeled boots with a gold necklace with your initial and chunky gold hoops. You put on your black and white plaid peacoat, spritzed perfume and you were ready. Jake wore his regular light washed jeans with his chelsea boots. He had on a halfway buttoned black shirt with a flannel jacket over it and his normal necklace.

Jake grabbed your purse for you. “You ready?”

You sigh a little. “Yeah let’s go.”

**

When you both arrived at the restaurant your confidence was waning. Jake held your hand and gave you an assuring squeeze sensing your hesitation. You had all decided on a casual pub that had decent food, a good bar, and old arcade games.

Jake opened the door for you and you both entered. Jake never let go of your hand. The place wasn’t super big, so you could see everyone and eyes were on you when you entered.

Sam was sitting at the bar. His eyes were on you and he looked incredibly solemn. He had a beer in his hand but paused on sipping when he saw you and Jake enter. Josh was sitting next to him, turned now to look at you two.

You swear you saw Josh’s lips say, “Well I guess we know where Jake was at.”

You flick your eyes over and Danny is at the pinball machine with Jessica. Her arms are crossed and she’s giving you a death stare. Jake kisses your cheek and sends you off to the bar while he heads for the pinball machine. You take a deep breath and smile as you approach Sam and Josh. Josh jumps up and pats Sam on the back before giving you a smile and walking to Danny, who has also been sent away. You take your coat off and sit it on the back of the chair before sitting down.

“Hi.” You say as you get situated.

Sam sighs a little. “Hi.”

“What are you drinki-“ you start but get cut off.

“So you and Jake are back together huh.” Sam says, a statement rather than a question.

You feel your heart sink for Sam. “Yes.”

Sam lets out a small laugh and takes a drink. “Damn. That’s a bummer. I guess when I didn’t see you two together at Daniel’s party, and Jake dragging Jessica around gave me hope. But none of us are dumb. We all knew why Jake decided to out of the blue invite Jessica to Atlanta.”

You bite your lip trying to find the best words to say.

“I still held out hope for us, all this time. I feel like a fucking idiot. I guess it just wasn’t in the cards for you and me.” Sam says, taking a sip of his beer and looking off at the distance.

“Sam” you start trying to take his hand but he pulls away.

“No. It’s okay. I’m not a child and you don’t owe me anything.” He says.

You huff. “Sam, please listen to me. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that I let this happen. I’m so fucking sorry if I have dragged you along or given you hope. I’m sorry.” You start to get choked up.

Sam looks like he might cry too. “Hey please don’t cry. You have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry. I’m just as complacent in this. I should have told you how I felt sooner. This just sucks.”

“I know, but Sam I want you to know how much I love you. You mean so much to me and I don’t want to lose you in my life. You’re my best friend.” You say actually grabbing his hands this time.

Sam sniffles. “I love you too, and more than in the way that you’re inferring. I just want you to know that.”

You look up at him and give him a pity smile.

“But I also love my brother.” Sam clears his throat and continues. “And no matter how much it hurts, I want him to be happy. I want you to be happy. You’re my best friend. Although I can’t be in your life how I want to, I would rather be in your life as a friend than not in it at all.” Sam sniffles. “Plus you need me as a cornhole partner.”

You laugh at that and Sam wipes a tear from your cheek then wipes one from his own.

“Are we going to be okay?” You ask.

“Of course we are, it’s you and me sorority girl. Time heals all wounds- well that and alcohol.” He says raising his beer up to you.

You giggle at that. “I will drink to that. Hey bartender! Can I have what he’s having?”

**

The rest of the dinner had gone surprisingly well. Jessica left after Jake told her there was no chance he would ever leave you. She was livid, and called you a whore- Jake put her in her place quickly. Danny and Josh tried their best to pretend like everything was normal, but before long it started to feel normal. Drinks kept on flowing, you all shared appetizers, and played the arcade games until the place shut down. When it was time to leave you had given everyone hugs.

“I’ll call you soon?” You say to Sam mid hug.

“You better.” He smirks down at you.

You return to Jake’s side and he puts his arm around you.

“Yeah I’ll be back in Nashville in a week or so for the label meeting.” Jake says to them.

They wish you both well and you part ways. When you get back to your apartment you feel like a massive weight has been lifted from your chest. You and Jake both discussed the conversations you had tonight, and decided that the past was the past. You were ready for your future together. The night ended with you two in between the sheets. You didn’t fuck, you made love.

You laid awake that night while Jake softly snored next to you. You observed his beautiful features as his arm laid across your chest.

All you could think about was the tarot card you pulled on Halloween night. It didn’t matter the true meaning of it or what changed since you drew it. What mattered is that you interpreted how you wanted, how it fit in your life. That interpretation was Jake. It has always been Jake, since the first time you met him in that bar. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, the way he touched you. He captivated you in a way that no one else could. He was who you saw yourself being with forever, through sickness and health.

It has always been Jake.

And it always will be.

**

• wow can’t believe we made it to the end! Thank you so much for reading, your comments & feedback brighten my day. Make sure to stick around for the epilogue next week :)

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #sam gvf #sam kiszka #sam kiszka x reader #the lovers

[mashas-rotting]

Queen of hearts

This is a slow burn with Mira and the reader, timeline is sometime before arisu and usagi get to the beach. There will be heavy smut later. Possible threesome. Also if you want a list of the books Mira recommended lmk

Warnings: f/f, drinking, mentions of blood and choking cannon typical death.

Sitting in the back corner of the library reading was how you ended most nights. You didn't like being around people for long periods of time unless you were drunk, and even drunk the men were annoying. This was especially true since you were required to wear a bathing suit at all times and your body filled out a two piece in ways that made most people suspect you were a porn star in the real world. They were wrong though. Most of the inhabitants of the beach were uninteresting. Which is why you were here, sitting on a black leather chair with your legs curled up beside you.

"I wasn't expecting anyone to be here." You look up to see Mira brightly smiling at you. "Why aren't you drinking with everyone else?" She questions, tilting her head to the side. "I do sometimes, but they're all so boring. Predictable. Books are far more interesting." You reply setting your book down. "Exactly! The best way to learn about the human heart is to study all the different ones in books. I find that most authors write what they want to be and not who they are, but the best books are the honest ones. Filthy thoughts and actions decorating page after page." Mira shifts slightly as she says this as if it excites her. "I'd love some recommendations." You say smiling, taking note of her delicate body. Mira always wore a cover over her bathing suits but that did little to stop you from imagining what was under all of it when you saw her at the executive meetings. "Oh? That's right youre a hearts player too. How fun!" She claps her hands. "I'll bring some by your room later. I'll let you finish your book now. Sorry for interrupting." She waves and leaves.

Strange woman, that one. You couldn't deny your interest though. Mira is beautiful and twisted. And she would look beautiful twisted in your sheets. Sex and relationships were pointless in the borderlands though and you figured she wouldn't bother with those things when she played games almost every night. Not that you would risk something like that anyways.

Although, Mira seemed to be the only person besides you who actually enjoyed the games. Sure niragi had fun, but he had fun killing. That had nothing to do with the games themselves. Last boss enjoyed the freedom the borderlands offered, but still the games themselves offered him little joy.

The library was big, not huge, but you and a few others regularly went on trips to gather new books to add to the collection. Normally you liked having the room to yourself, but as you went back to reading to thought it would be nice to have Mira reading beside you. You decided to invite her next time you saw her.

When you went back to your room there was a white gift bag with one glittery red heart on the center of it sitting in front of your door.

The next day you woke up later than usual. Mira must have been busy because you couldn't seem to run into her. Which is why you found yourself at the bar drinking tequila shots by midnight and shutting down everyone who tried to join you. That is until Kuina came up to you.

"Those aren't water you know." She said with a hand on her hip. "They're not? Then why am I not drunk yet?" You reply with exaggerated frustration. "If you're trying to get drunk we should try a drinking game." She said raising an eyebrow in a challenge. "What did you have in mind?" You reply not minding the intrusion. You'd hung out with kuina before and, while she wasn't a hearts player, she wasn't the worst company. On the rare occasion you did go drinking she was normally you drinking buddy.

"Never have I ever?" She suggests. You burst out laughing. "Yaah that'll do it." You say grabbing a bottle of tequila and walking with her over to a couple couches where the music wasn't as loud. "Never have I ever spit." You start. "Does it count if it came out your nose?" Kuina says and you both giggle. "It's a drinking game so yes it counts." Kuina pores her shot and quickly downs it with a shiver. "Never have I ever had sex in public." She says. You take a shot then say "Who decided all the questions have to be about sex?" "God probably." Kuina replies as she takes another shot. "You didn't have to take that one ya know." You tell her. "Never have I ever kissed a girl." Someone says sitting on the couch on the opposite side of the coffee table.

"Oh I've done a lot more than kiss a girl," you say taking a shot and smiling at Mira who is holding her own bottle and sporting her usual unsettling smile. You find it appealing. Raw. Unhinged. "Never have I ever wanted to fuck an executive." Kuina says giving the two of you a knowing look. Both you and Mira smile at her, then Mira takes a shot straight from her bottle and then hands it to you. You keep eye contact as you take yours. "I didn't think you liked to drink?" kuina say to Mira. "I don't mind it, although I prefer wine. I just don't have much time to with all the games and such." She says moving her hands as she talks. "Never have I ever been in a fist fight pre-borderlands." You say. Both Kuina and Mira drink. "I don't think I can take much more of this. I'm going to dance." Kuina says as she clumsily stands and disappears into the crowded dance floor.

"Should we join her?" Mira asks but the way she says it sounds like shes asking something else. "Only if you're afraid to be alone with me." You challenge. Mira swings her legs over the coffee table and settles on the edge of it, her legs between your knees. "Not at all. Should I be?" her eyes flicker from yours to your lips. "might be more fun if you were." You breathe leaning forward slightly. "Then i think you should do something that frightens me" Mira says softly. A thousand images go through your mind. Your hand around her throat, blood running down her breast, welts on her bare ass, and that fucking smile on her face the whole time.

Before you could decide how exactly you wanted to defile her, kuina stumbled over. "I might need help back to my room." She slurred as she swayed, mira jumps at the intrusion and turned her eyes to the side without turning her head. "I guess we have other plans." Mira said cheerfully, which somehow sounded like anger on her. You chuckle and lean forward to Mira's ear. "I'd love to continue another time." You whisper then move to wrap kuinas arm over your shoulder and start towards her room.

After you get her to bed, you walk with Mira to her room in a comfortable silence. The warmth of her presence is peaceful. You wonder what she was like pre-borderlands. Apparently someone who used to fight you think smiling. "What are you thinking?" Mira asks breaking the silence. "How often did you fight back in the normal world?" She looks surprised, it's the first time you've seen this expression on her. "Oh, just once in grade school. I was never a big fighter. I've always used ones heart to get what I want rather than physical violence." She answers looking lost in thought.

"Do you plan to use my heart to get what you want?" You say amused. Mira stops walking and turns towards you, brushing her fingers along your hand. "What if your heart is what I want?" She asks after a moment. You step closer and lean in slowly. "Have you really never kissed a woman before?" You softly ask, running your thumb over her bottom lip. She shakes her head and opens her mouth slightly. "Would you like to?" You ask realizing you have her backed against a wall with one hand on the wall behind her, the other now tilting her chin up to look at you. "Yes." Mira whispers and you lean down pressing your lips against hers. She grabs your hips and pulls you into her. You melt into each other slowly. The throbbing between your legs has you grinding your thigh between hers. The friction making Mira moan into your mouth. You pull back and shes breathing heavier than normal, her cheeks rosey. Cute, you think to yourself. You'd like to see how undone you can make her.

"Something wrong?" She asks. "I'd like to make a mess of you." You take her delicate hand and kiss the top of it. "But it's 4 in the morning and you deserve all night. I'm afraid we'll have to take a raincheck." You hold her hand against your cheek. Mira huffs a bit but doesn't object and you almost laugh at her annoyance but think better of it.

Once you reach Mira's room she stands at her door looking conflicted. You cup her face with one hand and say "would you come to library tomorrow night?"

"that's not what I thought you were going to say."

"aand what did you think I was going to say?" Mira blushes at this. It was getting easier to make her blush. You were going to have fun teasing her. As much as you liked her unhinged smile, these new reactions were exciting. "I should go to bed." She says pulling away, but before she can you pull her back to you and kiss her cheek. "Yes, you should." You leave her there touching her cheek and smiling as she watching you go.

#reader insert #fanfiction #alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no alice #mira kano #slow burn #eventual smut

[walks-the-ages]

Okay so ANYWAYS.

Quantum Leap.

My "this was meant to be a funny shit post but now I'm taking it super seriously" prompt has officially been incorporated into my little daydream Quantum Leap AU+Rewrite+Post Canon Universe.

it's sometime after my rewrite of the whole mess that is Last Dance Before An Execution (through) Shock Theater. (LDBAE-ST)

4x01 just straight up goes off the rails because none of that made sense except for the parts I'm keeping for Future Sam to deal with.

Anyways. During the New Events that happen to replace The Leap Back, Sam starts having very strange dreams and hearing [more] voices-- and the calls not coming from inside the house either, he already checked with the others!

Nope. Instead, he suddenly has spirits communicating with him in his dreams, showing up every night throughout the Leap, trying to ask him something but he can never quite make out what they're saying.

His lack of proof (or actual, meaningful communication) leaves Al skeptical of his claims and tells him they just need to get more sleep in this Leap while they can still can.

The Leap continues in whatever plot I decide at the eventual-maybe time of writing, and it's not until the very end of the Leap, when Sam has been knocked unconscious by the antagonist, that he's able to fully understand the spirits who are reaching out to him.

Al in the outside world is frantically trying to wake Sam up so he can go like, rescue a man who's been cartoonishly tied to some train tracks or something, idk.

Anyways, Sam wakes up, saves the guy, fixes what went wrong, and Leaps.

Weeks go by, as they always do before Ziggy can locate Sam's temporal signature again.

But weeks turn into months.

And suddenly, it's New Years Eve at Project Quantum Leap, only no one feels like celebrating, because Sam is still missing in between Leaps. This is the longest he's ever been "in between" and everyone is starting to get worried.

Then, right as the clock strikes midnight, Ziggy sends out an alert--

She's found Dr. Sam Beckett.

Except his brain wave and vital signs are off the charts, and something is messing with her system and "Admiral, we need you in the Imaging Chamber NOW! We don't know what's happening to Sam but you're the only one who can tell us what's wrong!."

Al, of course, is already sprinting down the corridors to the Imaging Chamber, more than halfway there.

Al bursts into the Imaging Chamber and the new Leap materializes around him as the Chamber powers up and sprawled on a carpeted floor of a bedroom is a young woman, blankets tangled around her legs, pajama suit rumpled, and sobbing.

After the traumatic shit show that was LDBAE-ST, Al has had to take multiple sessions with Dr. Verbena Beeks himself to deal with the fallout of what *Sam* has gone through, (not to mention dealing with the shell shock from the war), so Al is fairly confident he'll be able to help guide his friend through whatever kind of panic or anxiety attack they're having and help them calm down , and usually seeing that Al is there at all is some kind of comfort so he circles around and starts reassuring them he's here --

Only to not get the reaction he was expecting.

"Syl? Sylvi? Veon! Syl vee, vee, veon!" The woman on the floor exclaims and tries to hug him, then looks embarrassed when that fails to work "Vee, sylvi, veon, Syl. Vee Sylve, onn vee Sylvi."

Al just stares, because clearly, this is Sam. But for the life of him, Al can't understand a word coming out of their mouth.

Sam tilts their head in confusion at Al's flabbergasted look, "Sylveon?" They finally enquire.

.

.

[aka Sam Leaps into Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Red Rescue Team / Rescue Team DX and lives out not only the entire main storyline but also all of the post game content until he finally passed of old age with his Partner at his side and only then did he Leap back into canon

but he spent more than a human lifetime there and doesn't realize he's speaking Pokespeak lolol.

Don't worry! It's fine! He still knows English he just has to jog his memory of how to speak it.

Oh, and how to walk on two legs again lol.

Also becoming a Pokemon is what unlocks his ability to Leap into earth animals later.

Anyways, Sam is an Eevee in Rescue Team Verse and so is his Partner!

Sam eventually evolves into Sylveon (aka the trans pride Eeveelution)

and his Partner, Eevee, because of Sam's presence in that world, evolves into [REDACTED].

#Quantum Leap #Walks talks #long post #Pokemon #Quantum Leap x Pokemon Mystery Dungeon #pmd #ql x pmd

[fqiryspit]

𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ; 𝐞.𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠?

.

summary: y/n went to bed to fall into a new world where she met a boy, Eren. every night she would spend with this imaginary boy, but what happens when one wants to stop dreaming?

playlist

Chapter 1: 𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬

masterlist

Eren Yeager x Female Reader. College!AU

.

leaning over the bridge, looking at the murky water below me, I take a deep breath...looking up to see the fog around the dark forest; the trees almost blocking the cloudy weather...

"Hey, sorry I'm late"

I turn to see him.

wearing a grey flannel with a graphic black tee and black jeans, his brunette baby hairs falling out of his man bun, with his silver key necklace hanging from his collar stood Eren...that's all you knew about him. his name.

you can't really remember your first meeting...but, every night you'd talk and goof around with him doing whatever you want because...well, it's just a dream

"You can't be late to a dream" I chuckle while resting my elbows in the old wooden bridge 

"This is the place you chose tonight? creepy..." he says while his teal eyes scan the forest

"hey you chose last night it's my turn." I playfully yell at him as he puts his hands up defensively 

"alright, alright...well what do you want to do?"

"explore, obviously" you giggle

taking his hand and running into the forest as you giggle earning a deep chuckle from him

In your dreams, you can only choose your outfit and what you say or do obviously; but what you found strange is that you couldn't with Eren. he chose his own outfits and what he said and what he did. you tried many times to make him say something but he wouldn't

it was like he was his own person in your dreams...

you never talked about your life, all he knows is your name...the same thing goes for him. the only thing personal you both only shared were names.

one night you'd pick on where two go and the next he'd pick. he picked the night before where you both strolled the beach at midnight, the way the nights sky shined on the calm waters... giggling, dancing, just having fun. it was perfect

"AHH EREN, A FROGGY!" you tug on the brunette's hand, feeling his silver rings that were gripping on his fingers, jumping up and down with one of your arms out pointing to the oblivious creature.

"wait where?" He franticly looked around 

"look where I'm pointing, dumbass!" you say playfully as he looks at the slimy frog.

"Ima hold it"

"ME FIRST"

"tch, if you can get there first." he pushes you out of the way, running to the frog

"CHEATER!" you giggle as you run after him

he suddenly stops making you hit his back.

he had a scent? he smelt like minty musk with a hint of vanilla...even you were surprised that your mind can be this specific...

"ouch! what was the for?" 

he sits on the forests floor picking up the frog, smiling.

"it's so cute!!" you grin as he held it

"it's so gooey!" he says in a cheerful-disgusted tone as the croaker sat on his hands

"Ewww!" you laugh,

the rest of the dream was you finding the creatures of the forest and playing hide and seek.

and you woke up.

you immediately ran over to your desk, pulling out your journal writing the dream in grave detail trying not to miss anything. you did this after every dream afraid you'll forget the silly adventures, afraid you'll forget him.

"Morning! hey, I was just about to wake you up!" Sasha, your roommate burst through the door, disappointed she couldn't shake your unconcise body awake or wake you up in another annoying way

"OOO! what did you do with dream-boy?" she sat on your bed ready for you to tell your experiences with "dream boy". Sasha was very interested in Eren and your events with him...every morning you'd tell her what you two did that night, she never called you crazy or thought you were weird for it. she was truly the best roommate you could ask for. you never told her Erens name tho, wanting to keep that personal...honestly, you didn't know why...it was kinda like he told that to you; for you to know.

"Did you finally hit him? the way you talk about him he must be hot as hell..."

"SASHA!"

"what? it's your dream you can do whatever you want...I say bang him" she giggles at the sight of your face becoming redder and redder 

"enough of that, I just like to do fun things...PG things..." you feel your face become for flustered as you turn away, scribbling the description of the forest in your journal

"Alright, I guess PG can be fun as well, anywho want eggs today?" she asks beaming at the thought of breakfast

"Sure!" you smile and the auburn-haired woman left your room.

you look at the window, another cloudy day.

where you lived you got little to no sunny days...and you absolutely loved that.

smiling at the gray sky, you wrote into your book until you got to the end of your dream.

closing the book...you put it back into your desk drawer in the far back trying to make sure no one would see it at first glance. this journal is a prised possession of yours, you'd give up Sasha's secret stash of food like how Mr krabs gave up spongebob for 62 cents if it meant to protect your dream journal. knowing touching Sasha's food is equal to death this was a big deal for you to say.

getting dressed you were wearing this:

with black jeans and a brown jacket.

you ate breakfast with Sasha telling you about what you did with dream-boy~ 

and then you both went to your first class of the day.

~lunch~

you were sitting at your table with your friend group Sasha, Connie, and Jean.

"Guys! Hitch is throwing a party tonight we should totally go!" Connie said whilst slamming his hands on the table with excitement 

"Uhm...I don't know what time?" You ask hesitantly 

"What time? what, you got plans?" Jean asks chuckling

"She wants to sleep in time." Sasha says with her mouth full. you slap at her arm

"Sleep? what are you 60?" Connie laughs

"shut it Connie she's probably tired" Jean defends you

"no, she just has lucid dreams every night!" Sasha says excitedly, you knew she'd never talk about Eren with the others, she promised to keep that a secret

"Wait really? what are they about?" "uhm whatever I feel like" you mumbled at Connie as you ate a fry not wanting to talk about your dreams anymore.

"cool! heh-heh ya'know I should really sleep with you sometime" Connie starts laughing at his awful joke and Jean hits his arm, apologizing to you.

"But you know Y/n you should really go to that party...you can't get a full night's sleep every night that's the fun of college! live a little!" you start to grow on the idea...

"Alright, I'll come to the party...uh did we get invited tho?"

"you don't get invited to college parties you just show up." Connie giggles

"Oh right...okay I'll come along!" you smile...

you feel a little guilty that you wouldn't make it in time for Eren tonight but...he'd probably show up when you sleep tonight...that's how dreams work, that's how imaginary people work in your fantasies. you have to live your college life before it's over. 

Chapter 2

˜”*°•.˜”*°• see you soon •°*”˜.•°*”˜

an: AHHHH! HEYYY SHAWTYYY! so, I decided to post this here because...I don't really have a reason omg- I don't know, a lot of you guys seem to enjoy it when I post my series here so I'll go ahead and throw dream girl in it because it's a fan favorite on wattpad rn! anywho, I hope you guys liked ittt!!

#eren x reader #eren x you #eren smut #eren #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren yeager smut #eren aot #eren jäger #eren yaegar #shingeki no kyoujin #eren x fem!reader #eren x reader fluff #eren x y/n #fairy grunge #cottagecore #aesthetic #fairycore #fairy #dreamcore #oddcore #weirdcore #strangecore #liminal spaces #surrealcore #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan eren #attack on titan #snk #aot

[inaflashimagine]

Ups and Downs

Pairing: Nanami x F!Reader

WC: 2.8k

Warnings: cursing, smut, unprotected elevator sex (toward the end)

A/N: I told myself I was going to write sweet fluff for Nanami but my brain said, “Why not both?”

–

“Working overtime today?”

Nanami looks up from the pie chart he’s studying, his tired eyes meeting the owner of the cheery voice.

“Unfortunately,” he sighs as his frown deepens, sparing a glance at the long hand on the wall clock ticking past six. Staying glued to this chair beyond regular hours is turning into a bad habit.

You chuckle wryly at his weary expression–though a man who rarely displays his emotions, you’re starting to get better at discerning the briefest of changes that flit across his stoic face. Particularly the slightly quirked brow when he hears your next words.

“Well, not so unfortunate, because I’ll be joining you!”

The blonde leans back into his seat and it takes all of your might to not stare at the lithe fingers loosening his tie. “Are you still working on that quarterly report?”

“I’ve barely even started it,” you groan as your rest your chin on your hands, perched atop his cubicle. “I’m easily gonna be here until midnight. And I’m starving.”

The tiniest twitch of his lips catches your eye as he muses, “Perhaps you should’ve joined our colleagues’ trip to that restaurant they kept mentioning.”

“No thanks,” you snort derisively, “those misogynists hate me, and the feeling’s mutual. They can’t handle the fact that a salarywoman makes more money than they do. Besides, what’s the point of being friends with a foodie if he’s not recommending me some places?”

“Already on it,” Nanami mutters as he scrolls on his phone, looking for his favorite take-out spot as he tries to ignore your thrilled face and that strange pang in his chest after he learns that he’s your ‘friend’.

But Nanami’s policy doesn’t allow him to let personal feelings into his work.

You’re a colleague, nothing more. Just a coworker who frequently gets take-out with him to stave off the hunger during those long nights in the office. Simply a friendly associate–not a friend–who sparingly makes a good joke and happens to share his love for the nearby bakery that sells those tasty casse-croûtes.

So why does today feel different?

He first detects this change when you point out that the ever-so-meticulous Nanami stained his suit jacket from eating. Even he doesn’t notice the mess, too caught up in his conversation with you.

“Do we need to get you a bib?” you taunt—though it carries no real bite—as you promptly grab a napkin and dab at the spot on his chest until you instantly pause after two consecutive taps.

“Is there something wrong?” he asks, perplexed to see your eyes and mouth widening a bit while you pass off the napkin to him, both of your fingers lingering on each other for a second too long.

“Uh, n-no!” you sputter, frantically averting your gaze from his keen one. After all, how in the world can you explain you weren’t expecting him to be so built that it felt like you were patting a freaking rock? When does he even have the time to work out? He’s always in that chair...

“Alright then,” he says matter-of-factly as he focuses on minimizing the damage on his jacket.

Right as you’re about to sigh in relief, grateful for Nanami knowing when not to pry, your throat suddenly feels drier than the Sahara after he peels off his blazer, the way-too-tight dress shirt highlighting the taut muscles you spent the last minute trying to not drool about.

“I-I need to go to the bathroom,” you burst out, not even waiting for his response as you spontaneously jump from your seat and bolt to the only place the salaryman can’t enter.

Your policy prohibits letting personal feelings enter your work. This pragmatic approach brings order to your life and allows you to be ruthless at your job, to become a merciless, unyielding shark that feels no guilt in sinking sharp teeth into its prey. But as you splash your heated face with icy water, your heartbeat still erratic, you finally realize what it feels like to be hunted.

It was an error to have let your tightly guarded walls down, even if solely around him. A mistake to have called him a friend, considering that the minute the title slipped from your tongue it felt like a lie. A label that immediately left a bitter taste in your mouth, because you stupidly want more, even if that means potentially losing the only unwavering support you’ve received for the past year.

You can blame the sleep deprivation or the dissatisfaction of having to deal with shitty coworkers, but even those reasons fail to explain why you broke the most important rule in your book, your brain losing control over your heart that craved his attention, his touch.

And the worst part is that you can’t even tell if he feels remotely the same or if he’s merely being courteous when he carefully asks you, “Are you okay?” after your return. Is that concern swirling in his eyes, or is it your pitiful imagination hopelessly analyzing something out of nothing?

But you simply grant him a curt nod and tight-lipped smile before resuming your work, doubting your ability to speak coherently or restrain your wandering eyes that often linger on those sharp cheekbones.

Today definitely feels different, you both internally conclude, Nanami reluctantly tearing his eyes off you as he exhales resignedly, his confusion increasing and irritating him.

Despite you two falling into the typical comfortable silence, working away on your computers, there’s a charge in the air that keeps him distracted, the numbers on his screen blending into an incoherent blob as he continues to sneak covert glances your way. He wonders what he did to upset you, hearing the furious click-clacking of your keyboard while noting your knitted eyebrows and how your lip is uncharacteristically curled downward.

Did you dislike the restaurant he chose? (Though he remembers how last time you couldn’t stop raving at how delicious their food is.) Did he say something wrong? (If anything, his earlier comment during dinner about work being shit made you laugh pretty hard.)

And why is he so agitated about this? Worried about what you think? You’re just a colleague, a kind co-worker, a friendly associate, nothing more.

Right?

–

The one time you expect him to stay in the office past 12:00 am is the same night he manages to finish work slightly earlier than you.

“We can leave together if you’d like,” he proposes as you pack up your things, ever the gentleman.

Yet the last thing you need him to be is the sweet person you’ve recklessly developed a crush on. No, what you would really like is to book it home, a private space where you can mope and eat a pint of ice cream while scolding yourself for violating your code of conduct.

“Sure!” you manage to pipe up, the false joy even making you cringe as you two head to the elevator.

The awkward silence between you two makes time tick by slower as Nanami presses the button, the descent to the ground floor not fast enough. But when you two reach it, the doors refuse to open, even when you press the key to do so.

“Oh no,” you whisper, panicking when the other buttons don’t seem to work. You swear that they just fixed the elevators a few days ago.

“Let me call for help.” How can such a soft voice make your jumbling nerves simultaneously feel on fire and soothed? Nanami gently pushes you aside as he attempts to use the emergency dial, his large hand that was briefly on your shoulder further paralyzing your frozen body.

You’re not even aware of what is being said, the staticky words transmitted through the intercom flying over your foggy head until you hear a certain statement.

“Since it’s past midnight please expect about thirty minutes for us to come and fix this.”

Why does the universe hate you?

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out, leaning into the handrail at the side of the elevator for support. Nanami seems to hesitate, about to head to your side of the wall before heading to the opposite, an action that stings your pounding heart.

“Maybe they’ll come sooner,” points out Nanami, a strangely optimistic perspective from a realist.

“This night has been long enough,” you mutter, burying your head into your hands, feeling pressure strike your temples like a vicious lightning storm.

“And it’s so hot in here,” you complain after a few painful minutes of horrid, tense silence, fanning your face to cool down from the stifling air and pondering what the quiet man before you is thinking with closed eyes.

As if on cue, he nods before shrugging off his striped jacket and rolling up his sleeves, his nicely defined arms in full display when he crosses them.

Great, now the room feels hotter.

And why isn’t he saying anything? You can sense him staring you down but you refuse to meet his intense orbs, knowing that if you do it’ll fill your mind with thoughts it shouldn’t entertain.

“Why are you angry at me?”

You blink profusely, finally looking up from the ground to see his rather unamused face. Gulping, your grip on the rails tighten. Well, shit.

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Then why are you acting so,” he pauses, attempting to choose an apt word, “distant?”

“No, I haven’t.” You internally scream at yourself for being so defensive but you’re afraid of his response if you do answer truthfully.

He shakes his head as he pushes off the wall, using the force to approach you, albeit at a slow rate as if giving you time to tell him to stop. “You say we’re friends but then you become skittish around me. Was it the food? Something I said?”

You can’t control the sardonic chuckle that leaves your rumbling chest. If only he knew. “Nanami I–”

“Kento. Because apparently I’m your friend, though if this is how you treat them I’m not sure I want to be one.”

His clipped tone–the same one he uses toward annoying colleagues or clients–makes you wince, knowing his irritation is fully warranted. “Nana–, I mean Kento, I’m sorry. It’s honestly not you, it’s me.”

“What does that even mean?” The frustration is evident and you feel overwhelmed by both his presence that’s now mere inches from you and the still-potent scent of his musky cologne combined with dark roasted coffee.

Your eyes drift downward once again, now fixated on his shiny wristwatch that informs you it’s only been ten minutes. How are you going to avoid this, with him on your tail?

“Forget it,” he sighs, already turning to retreat and you panic, the fear coursing through your veins causing you to forego all inhibitions.

Because if you’re going to lose him it may as well be on your own accord than from cowardice.

Grabbing his wrist you shout, “I like you, okay?!” Your dizzy head urges you to stop acting like a lovesick schoolgirl upon seeing his shoulders stiffen but you continue, your next out-of-breath sentences coming out rapid and jumbled, not caring of the consequences since you’re already on a sinking ship.

“I never let personal feelings into my job but this is different. You’re different. I thought you were going to be a dick like the others, but you’ve been nothing but nice to me. And I’m a fool for thinking that we can be friends or anything mor–”

Nanami ends your rambling as he gently pushes you toward the wall, the delicate action sharply contrasting with his lips that harshly meet yours. The coiling in your body winds even tighter as you groan into the kiss, unable to repress the feelings you’ve bottled up for so long.

“I also,” he pants in between kisses, “don’t bring,” a bite of your lower lip, “personal feelings into my work.”

You can only exhale a shallow laugh as he dives in again with an intensity he solely applies during overtime. It tastes of depraved, ravenous hunger but you want–no, need–more, firmly clutching onto his shirt and willingly letting him steal what little oxygen you have as his tongue deftly slides into your mouth.

And it’s as if he can tell your back is pressed uncomfortably against the wall because the calloused fingers on your neck suddenly travel down to your hips, a steel-like grip on them that’s sure to leave bruises as he lifts your ass onto the handrail.

He quiets your shocked gasp with another kiss, this one surprisingly more tender, as you snake your arms around his neck, your breath hitching when one hand hikes up your skirt and tugs your soaked panties down.

“A friend makes you that wet, huh?” he inquires wryly, a pleased glint in his eyes as his fingers brush against your dripping slick.

“Shut up,” you weakly breathe, your wish his command as he pops the fingers into his mouth and licks them slowly, the action causing the heat in your core to expand.

As he’s about to assume his previous position, you swat his hand away, pulling his chest flush against yours while your fingers grab onto his soft hair. “We won’t have enough time. Please, please just–”

Your restless begging makes him painfully aware of his throbbing cock. Gulping, his hot breath fans your neck before he asks, “Are you sure?”

You nod wildly. “I’m on birth control,” you explain quickly, pupils dilated with lust, as you watch him clumsily unbuckle his belt, pulling down his pants and briefs to free his confined member. The sight makes you lick your swollen lips, preparing for its thickness and length to destroy you.

He elicits a few whines from you when you feel his head toying at your entrance. “I need to hear you say yes,” he prods, the hand still holding you in place now squeezing your skin.

“Yes, Ken, please, I need you to–”

The first word is sufficient for him as he plunges in, swallowing your sobs and mewls with another kiss as you’re forced to stretch for him. The way your velvety walls suck him in makes him grunt, unable to wait for a second longer while your nails dig half-moon shaped marks onto his chiseled back.

“F-faster, Kento!” your desperate pleas drown out the lewd sounds as his pace quickens.

“Ah, shit,” he gruffs, relentlessly ramming into you, your trembling legs weakening their hold around his waist with each thrust. Your head hits the shaking steel wall while you continuously cry out his name, the friction making your fluttering eyes roll back.  

“Look in the mirror,” he nearly hisses into your ear. Obeying, you part a sideways glance to the back of the elevator, feeling your toe curls at watching him fuck you senseless, your moans in sync and faces glistening with sweat.

You feel Kento touch your puffy clit before you see his tantalizing thumb find it, the action making your sensitive pussy tightly squeeze him before unclenching and milking his cock, his name spilling from your blissful face making him feral.

He drives into you more lazily but ensures his last shove hits against your cervix, your whimpers joining his throaty groans while he fills you with his load.

You nestle your head into the crook of his neck as both of you attempt to steady your breathing, ignoring the urge to fix the mess you made of his hair. As he helps you get down you lean onto him for support, your legs still wobbly while you lift your panties up and adjust your skirt.

“That was…” It’s not even possible to find the proper words, still riding your high as you laugh lightly with him.

Just as he’s about to say something, your heart racing again after seeing his softened eyes and tiny smile, you both startle upon hearing a banging at the front doors.

“We’re here!” shouts a muffled voice. “Please wait a few more minutes!”

Glimpsing at his wristwatch, he murmurs, “They did come early.” Does he sound disappointed?

“That doesn’t mean we have to, though,” you offer meekly, taking a great interest in his shoes as your shoulders slightly tense, waiting for him to say no.

“I’d like that,” he says instead, whipping your head in his direction as he sends you a look that reignites the heat in the pit of your stomach.

You guess working overtime has its ups and downs.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #spice time #nanami kento

[ren-c-leyn]

Follower Celebration Story

 Here it is, the story for my 1,000 follower celebration! Thank you to @adie-dee @hyba @did-i-do-this-write @hannahs-creations @writingonesdreams @avrablake and @catinthesun2 for submitting words for it!

 The words I must include are - Frost, Reverie, cathartic, moonbow, muggy, biscuit, solace, bottomless, sea, stars, glorious, generous, flabbergasted, magnitude, fall, change, burn, quest, planet, rings, seven, pastry, tweet, birthday, slide, defenestrate, and ribbon.

 I received no doubles, so I only need to include one of each. I’ll be bolding them as I go so you can keep track of where and how I used your words ^^

 As far as trigger warnings go, this story mentions death, though it’s in passing and there’s some mild violence. Nothing descriptive, though. There’s no gore, swearing, or anything along those lines.

 And with that, happy reading!

~

 Seven years. My quest started seven years ago. It’s surreal, thinking on it now, so close to the end. It felt like it would never end. Though, at the time, I could have never imagined the magnitude of that evening.

 It was a muggy fall night I could never dream of forgetting. The rain had just stopped, and the moon looked so beautiful. Big, bright, hypnotizing almost. I decided to have dessert outside to enjoy the last few warm nights before winter sunk it’s fangs into the air. I hadn’t been out long when she appeared in the clearing beside me, standing tall beneath the radiant light of a shining moonbow. Eyes so intense they still haunt my dreams bore into me as she gave me a solemn smile.

 “So you are the one.... I apologize for this.”

 Her voice sounded strange. Like it was echoing to me from the depths of a cavern or some lonely mountain vale.

 I hadn’t the time to protest, to question, to do anything more than stare in blank amazement as she touched my forehead with a gentle, frigid hand, drawing a line down to the tip of my nose while maintaining eye contact. I was still far too flabbergasted to speak, to do anything but stare at the inhuman form before me.

 Listen, heed my words well, carve them into the deepest reaches of your mind. This entire planet is on the cusp of the greatest of perils. You, dear mortal, are the one chosen to stop it. Find the Gods’ lost rings before midnight on your thirtieth birthday, bring them to the place where stars kiss the bottomless sea, help us defenestrate the Dark Lord, least the world burn and shatter.

 She cupped my cheeks with her cold, cold hands and gave me a sad smile.

 “When darkness surrounds you, and time feels endless, take solace in the fact that you do not walk alone.”

 She pulled the purple ribbon out of her hair and tied up my own before fading in a burst of light and sparkles. I would have thought it a dream, a hallucination, a trick of the wine and half-eaten pastry sitting on the blanket beside me, but the ribbon remained. Even when the daylight broke over the horizon and the tweeting of birds awoke me, the ribbon was still in my hair.

 Things changed after that. There’s no way one can have a visit from a heavenly being without life changing. The local priestess saw my now ribbon and immediately dragged me into the temple. It was the first I had ever heard of the prophecy. The first I had learned of my heritage, a descendant of one of the Moon God’s affairs with a mortal. It was the first time I learned about how I was fated to die.

 All I could feel was numb. There was part of me that wanted to say no. To sit in my cabin and enjoy the last few years of my life until the world burned around me. But I couldn’t do it. I still can’t do it. The images of everyone I know, everyone I love, keep flitting through my mind every time I think of quitting my so called glorious quest. They’re the only things that keep me moving forward. Well, them and my companions.

 I met Rosalie on my way to get the Goddess of Winter’s ring. Never, in my life, have I seen a halfling take on a group of frost giants alone and win, but she did it, and she did it with that casual smirk I know so well. I doubt I would have been able to win half of the battles we ran into without her. Though, to be fair, I don’t think I would have gotten into half of the battles I did without her, either.

 “When you’re my size, the fastest way to get the tall folk to back off is to show them that you can, and absolutely will, kneecap even the strongest of them,” she says every time we get into a tavern brawl.

 We met Aix in the Reverie Forest, looking for the God of Spring’s ring. I’ve never seen an elf look simultaneously so amused and exasperated at the same time, but it’s a look he wears well. In that it’s the look that’s been stuck on his face for as long as he’s known us. We kept falling for the fae tricks of the forest until he finally had pity and guided us through. Lucky us, he was the ring’s guardian and happy enough to give it to me, thanks to my sacred ribbon. He’s helped me find the way several times, and in more than one sense. I doubt I’d be who I am today without his uncanny insight and annoyingly on-point advice.

 “There’s always more than one path, it’s just a matter of finding the one that goes where you wish to without killing you or robbing you of the simple joys in life,” he told me once.

 We met the human twins during their own failed attempt at snatching the ring of the Goddess of summer. Surrounded by fire, Remi was clinging to her greatsword like it was the last life line she had left, while Rayner gathered frost to his hands. We didn’t really get much of a say in them joining the party. It just kind of happened. They were looking for adventure to bring honor and glory back to their family name, and a chosen one’s quest to collect rings for the gods and defeat a Dark Lord sounded good to them.

 “You know, this questing thing is harder than the stories make it sound,” Remi said absently one night while it was raining on our heads.

 “You obviously weren’t listening to grandma when she told us about her attempt to be an adventurer,” Rayner replied flatly. “She told us exactly how soul crushing questing can get.”

 “I love grandma, but she sucks at telling stories.”

 The ring of the God of autumn was perhaps the biggest challenge. First we had to navigate a mushroom forest, full of toxic spores and nightmarish creatures, defeat a guardian beast that spewed poison, and then try to navigate back out of the mushroom forest on low supplies.... No one likes to talk about that trip, except Rosalie, because she got to kill a divine monster bigger than the giants.

 Seven years. It was so long, and yet not long enough. We have the four rings, we’re on the boat to the Bottomless Sea, to my doom. And I don’t want to go. I have to go, but I don’t want to.

 I’m standing on the bow of the ship, untouched biscuit in hand, as I stare out at the horizon that the ship is silently gliding towards. If I stare at the waves long enough, it feels like I’m going to slide right down into them, drown in the darkness. A red star is shining in the sky, almost brighter than the nearly full moon. My thirtieth birthday is not so far away, yet I doubt I’ll live to see it. My stomach churns and knots itself. At one point it feels like it’s crawled up my throat and into my windpipe. Why is breathing so hard?

 “You look unwell.”

 I nearly jump out of my skin at his voice. Spinning around I find Aix, arms folded as he watches my every movement. I let out a long sigh.

 “You really need to work on that, Aix, you’ll give someone a heart attack and kill them one of these days, or was that your goal?”

 “It’s the prophecy that’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

 I stare at him, mind processing the words.

 “How did you.... Oh. Right. Of course you would know. You were guarding the ring.” I turn back to the sea, nearly crushing my biscuit as I cling to the rail. “How could you not know?”

 “You’re not ready.”

 “Yeah, well, who would be? I know I never will....”

 I don’t hear him come over, but I see him lean against the rail beside me, back to the sea as he stares up at the moon.

 “Do you remember what I said, about paths?”

 “There’s always more than one,” I reply blandly. “And there is. I could turn this ship around and let you and the rest of the world die.”

 “Or we may find one when we get there.”

 “The crying woman who gave me the ribbon seemed to think otherwise.”

 “She wasn’t looking for solutions, just doing as she was told.”

 “What about the Gods? Don’t you think they would have done something in the last seven years if there was something more?”

 “Why would they? They are not as generous as the temples would have you say. It’s not truly their problem, and they already have you following without question.”

 I pause at this.

 “You really think... there’s a way?”

 He reaches over and grabs the end of the ribbon, putting a small bit of tension on it before pausing, waiting for permission. I give a nod and he undoes it. It slides with unnatural grace out of my black hair and flutters in the cold sea breeze.

 “There may be, if you do not tie yourself down to fate. I cannot swear to anything other than you are my friend, and I will not let you die without at least trying to find another way,” he speaks with a deathly seriousness, no hints of humor or exasperation in his voice. “My family have been slaves to fate’s whims, but I refuse to accept our fates quietly. What about you?” he asks as he holds the ribbon out to me. “Will you go quietly?”

 I accepted the purple ribbon. Despite the numerous miles on the road, the trials and battles, it was as pristine and beautiful as the muggy autumn night it had been given to me. The breeze picks up and it nearly snaps in the cold, crisp wind.

 “No,” I whisper. “No,” I say more firmly. “No!” I snarl as I release the ribbon, watching it fly out over the dark waters. “I’m not ready to die. I’m not ready for our adventures to end. Not like this.”

 I see him smile out of the corner of my eye, but my attention is locked onto that single, fluttering ribbon. I admit, there’s something cathartic about watching the symbol of my fate splash into the water and sink beneath the waves. It makes my heart feel lighter, if only a little.

~

Short story tag list, feel free to ask to be added or removed at any time.

 @rainydaydarling @physicsgoblin @copper-coin-writing

.

#follower celebration #short story #original story #my writing #fiction #fantasy #a story by ren

[poptod]

Would u be up to writing a crack fic where Ahk eats some dodgy food and gets violently ill from it and in his food poisoning induced delirium starts to like hallucinate and think that gods are against him and hanging out with him and stuff. so yeah. (also omfg never noticed the ostrich part in NATM!!!)

notes: YEA that fucking ostrich is hilarious and YES this sounds fun. u didn’t say if this was xreader or if this was in egypt or in the museum so i took some liberties, hope that’s alright! i also really ran with this so apologies for the length WC: 2,222

+

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Now, now, that’s no way to refer to your husband,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You are not - we’re not married,” you hissed.

“Not yet,” he said with a grin.

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. Ahkmen wasn’t King yet, but you still held the position as his advisor, placed there by both Ahkmen’s choice and his father’s insistence.

Now, however, you were focused on a different, more pertinent issue. An entire bag of almond date rolls had been thrown away for Ahk to find, opening the sack to find them untouched. Since he had little to no self control—which was why you were there to begin with—he immediately began eating them.

“There isn’t anything wrong with them,” he said through a mouthful.

“You don’t know that,” you said, still glaring up at him.

He swallowed before promptly stuffing another whole roll in his mouth.

“Stop that!” You said, and batted the sack out of his hand.

The cinch released and the rolls went flying down a sandy hill, reaching the river outcrop at the bottom. Ahk watched, miserably, as they disappeared.

“You have access to date rolls anytime you like in the palace,” you reminded him.

“But it’s such a long walk back, and I like it here,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the forested hill overlooking the Nile. Shade stretched over your bodies and the reed blanket beneath you, allowing the wind to cool your sun-beaten skin.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” you said, leaning back to lie down.

“How funny, then, that you are my life,” he said with a grin, following you till he propped himself up on his elbow, his free hand resting on your chest.

He stared at you, scanning you as you half-glared at him.

“What do you want?” You asked, looking up unimpressed.

“A kiss,” he said, puckering his lips.

“Shut up!”

You shoved him onto his back, laughter wracking his body.

A little while later you found yourself once more obeying Ahk’s whim, though his father had warned against that, and followed him in short steps down the tall dune. Solidified, plant-filled earth gave way for free falling sand that drifted off the slope and towards the riverbank.

The water during this time of year was at a steady but slow pace, flowing from south to north as the sun’s rising and setting indicated. Wind that once cooled you now brought hot air, exacerbated by the overzealous sun, who you imagined could burn even your ink-black skin. Sand avalanched around your still feet, landing you at Ahk’s side.

“Luncheon will be soon,” you reminded.

“I’m aware,” he said flatly. “Can’t I simply enjoy myself for once?”

“No.”

He waded out into the water, his shoulders tensing at the chill and only releasing as he went deeper. Once the red water reached his knees, just barely soaking the edge of his skirt, he called to you.

“Come join me,” he said, offering you his hand.

“We should go back to the palace,” you said.

“Come now, it’ll be hours before lunch,” he whined.

“It’s one hour. And you can’t be wearing that,” you said, gesturing to his outfit that consisted of no more than a skirt, partially torn and covered in dirt.

“Then take it off me,” he said with a sly grin.

You scowled at him, going over your options for a moment before you acted.

Once you decided, you waltzed into the river, soaking your sandals as you approached him. Satisfaction filled his gaze as you came closer, his hand still outstretched to you.

At last you took his hand, tugging him forcefully towards you. He let out a grunt, but before he could say anything, you reached forward and released the clasp keeping his skirt on him, allowing it to fall in the running water and drift away.

“Hey!” He cried, attempting to go after it, but stopped by your hand still in his. He turned back to you, a shocked look on his face as he said, “what was that for?!”

“Dawdling. Let’s go back to the palace.”

“Like this?!” He yelled, gesturing to his naked body. You snorted.

“You don’t mind. I know you don’t. You just want to be mad at me,” you said in a definitive voice.

“I don’t-“

“Come on, Prince,” you said, tugging him past you so he stumbled towards the shoreline. As he just barely got his standing you slapped his butt, pushing him forward further.

Ahkmen fell silent—as he rarely did—after he’d been dressed and was on the way to the garden, where the Pharaoh had arranged a feast he made and placed for himself, his family, and the ambassadors visiting from Punt. You were not invited, but you watched from above alongside the youngest Prince’s manservant. Ahk’s room was placed right above the western gardens, large arches within allowing a plenty good sight out, which you and Naguib took advantage of.

“He’s squirming an awful lot,” Naguib noted after several minutes of silence.

Naguib laid on his stomach, his chin propped up on his palms, in turn resting on his elbows on the stone floor. You sat nearby, leant against one of the arch pillars with a tablet of baked limestone on your lap.

At his comment you looked over the ledge, easily finding the trademark golden crown Ahk bore.

“How so?” You asked.

“Look at his legs,” Naguib said, and your eyes turned to his fidgeting crossed legs, “and his hands.”

His fists were clenching and unclenching.

“Should we check in on him?” He asked gingerly.

“.... nah,” you said after a moment. “I’m sure it’s fine. He’s probably just upset I slapped him on the arse.”

Naguib choked on his own spit, bursting into manic laughter.

“You slapped the prince’s ass??” He asked incredulously through gasps of laughter. “How’d he react to that?”

“He stripped me,” you answered, returning to your tablet with little waver in your voice.

“What -“

“That might’ve been because I took away his skirt, though. In that case, he just looked at me really strangely,” you said.

“How so?”

You twisted your expression to reflect what you remembered, a strange mix of confused, angered, and one feeling that was almost always at the forefront of Ahk’s mind—horny. Naguib burst into another round of laughter.

Several minutes later, after your conversation died down, Naguib looked back over the ledge and frowned.

“He’s gone,” he said.

“Who what?”

“Ahk, he isn’t there anymore,” he said, pointing to the empty cushion where Ahk had been sitting. You shifted to see.

“Huh. What do you think happened?”

Bursts of metal latches and swinging hinges interrupted you before either of you could think of an answer, followed by the wooden frame of the door slamming against the other wall. Both of you darted to look behind you, finding several different servants entering, a limp Prince in their arms.

Instantly you jumped to your feet. Naguib joined you, though much slower, and you both made your way to his bedside once the servants set him down.

“What happened?” Naguib asked, a hand on the bed as he looked up to one of the servants.

You set your hand over his forehead, testing his temperature, and using your sense of magic to reach into his veins, searching for a perpetrator.

“He hasn’t got a fever,” you noted, earning a nod from the servant tending him.

You made to search again before Ahk moved, groaning softly as he curled into himself, clutching his stomach.

“Ahk? Are you alright?” You asked—probably too quickly—as you knelt at his side, panic pounding its way into your heart.

“Ugh,” he grumbled, just barely wheezing out his breaths. “Alive. Right now.”

“What are your symptoms?”

“Stomach,” he breathed, halting as he flinched, his hands moving to slap over his mouth.

“Bucket!” You said to the servant, who nodded and rushed for one of the buckets in the nearest closet. “You’re going to throw up, its alright. Get it out.”

“Ughhh...” he mumbled, convulsing forward again as he attempted to hold it in.

In a flash the servant returned, rushing to set the bucket down beside the bed. You held it up, helping him scoot dizzily forward before he hurled.

Things continued in a similar fashion until the setting of the sun, the western rays finally sinking beneath the distant mountain horizon. Crickets and firebugs chirped, bringing in the cool breeze of evening, sending shivers down Ahk’s sweat-sheeted shoulders and back.

You ran your fingers through his hair, hoping to raise the curls off his heated forehead, but he raised his hand to stop you.

“No,” he slurred, “too sick... repetitive.”

“Alright,” you said softly.

His dizziness persevered from the evening into the night, but his vomitting had luckily stopped, though he did try to retch on an empty stomach twice. By then he was passed out from exhaustion, still shivering in his sleep. You stayed at his side without fail, raising his sheets up to cover him, and removing them when he broke out into another sweat.

At midnight, his eyes fluttered open.

The first thing he saw was you—surrounded by a halo of brightly glowing stars, colored in red, yellow, and purple. His sickness had faded but the delirium remained, and he reached out blindly for your face.

His fingers dragging across your eyes and cheeks brought you back from your meditation, shocked at his consciousness.

“You’re awake,” you said with a relieved sigh, your knees digging into the cold stone beneath you.

“Hathor?” He mumbled weakly, his eyes still half-closed.

“No, no,” you said, taking his hand down from your face and clasping it in your own hold. “Piye. Remember? How do you feel?”

“Am I dead?”

“Not as far as I know. You exhibit all the tell-tale signs of being alive,” you said, chuckling.

“... Bastet?”

“Also no. Piye.”

“Peets....” he mumbled before promptly falling back asleep.

The next time he awoke was a little later on, towards the very, very early morning. He once again broke you out of your meditation, this time with words rather than smothering your face. His state of aberration had yet to improve.

“Piye?” He asked softly, a husk of a voice.

“Yes,” you said, smiling. He remembered your name. “How do you feel?”

“When d.. you’re... you’re glowing,” he murmured.

“I what?”

He reached forward, and you flinched away, stiffened by a soft touch that traced down your jawline.

“You’re... glowing,” he said, louder, drawing in a deep breath as sweat began to bead on his forehead.

“Calm down, Ahk,” you warned him, pushing the hair off his forehead. “You’re going to work yourself up.”

“No,” he said with a strange sense of urgency, holding your face in the palm of his hand. You subconsciously leaned your cheek into his touch. “No, I need to see you.”

“I’m right here, with you.”

“Not in my dreams,” he breathed out, the words brushing his parted lips, now paler than ever.

Fever.

Vomitting.

Fatigue.

Gagging. Weakness. Dizziness. Chills. Sweating.

What would your father say?

He didn’t need to consult the numerous stacks of books shoved into his office to know what Ahk suffered from, but he was far away in Thebes, and you wouldn’t dare leave the Prince’s side, in fear of his condition and the wrath of his father should he suffer grievously.

“I told you not to eat those date rolls,” you chided, continuing to thread your fingers through his hair. That must’ve been the cause—sickness carried through infirm food. You could think of nothing else.

He didn’t say anything. Not for a little while, at least. He continued to blink, albeit slow, and stared unceasingly into you.

“He is in your eyes,” he whispered, his own eyes flickering between yours. “And... speaking.”

“Who do you see?” You asked softly, suddenly reluctant to blink.

“Heka.”

Not a God of magic, but the personification of it. The genuine representation of healing and enchantments. His fertile, black skin made of the Nile’s silt was reflected in your own complexion—darker than night, flanked by eyes that appeared to glow against the midnight of you.

“What is he saying?” You said, readjusting yourself beside his hand, a seriousness edging your tone. Claims of Heka were not to be taken lightly.

“Pledging.. love.”

“For who?”

“... me,” he whispered.

“Beloved of...”

“Beloved of you,” he interrupted before you could finish your thought, a smile creeping at the edges of his pale lips.

You chuckled softly, reaching up to stroke your thumb over the back of his hand. He was returning to a saner state of mind.

“Perhaps so,” you murmured.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Night at the Museum #Ahkmenrah

[fruitcoops]

Hey girly i was wondering if you could do a coops smut with the prompte 71 and/or 90 Pretty please and Thank you i love! Your writing

Coops wedding night!!! At long last it is here, and I still have more than an hour before midnight. Since it took me so long to get this out, I’m opening up fic requests until 12 pm (noon) PST tomorrow! Thank you all for your patience--it truly means the world to me. Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Wedding Preparations II Part 1 II Part 2 II Part 3

TW for smut, hickeys, wrist restraint (for a bit), and happy tears

Prompt 71: “Go on. I want to hear you say it.”

Sirius looked like he was having a Moment™ as they stepped into the house and, being a polite and loving husband, Remus let him have eight solid seconds of awestruck silence.

Then he leaned up, sank his teeth into the side of Sirius’ neck, and sucked.

A breathless whine slipped from Sirius’ throat and he nearly dropped Remus before pressing him up against the nearest wall and kicking the door closed, gripping his thighs hard enough to burn in the best way. Remus hooked his ankles around his lower back, squeezing his waist until he drew a moan from the soft lips that mapped his jawline.

Sirius stopped cold when he ran his hands along Remus’ upper thighs, and he grinned into the kiss. “What’s this?”

“A surprise,” Remus said, skimming his teeth over Sirius’ pulse point. “Wait, are you laughing?”

“I’m—” Sirius broke off into snickering and set him down carefully “I’m wearing one, too.”

“You’re kidding.”

“It’s a wedding, sweetheart!”

Remus leaned back against the wall as he burst out laughing, then beckoned Sirius closer and kissed him softly. “I guess that means we should go upstairs, huh?”

“That depends. Do you think you can leave my poor thighs alone for once?” Sirius quirked an eyebrow as he led Remus toward the stairs by the rumpled ends of his bowtie.

“Never.”

Sirius’ grin widened and he grabbed Remus’ hand; they ran up the stairs in a tumble of laughter, nearly tripping over each other more than once in their haste. The air still hummed with electricity, but a steady undercurrent pulled them closer like magnets, inevitable and unbreakable.

The bed creaked as they fell onto it in a heap, which only spurred their laughter on until Sirius broke the kiss to roll onto his back and catch his breath, kicking his shoes off. “This is fucking incredible.”

“Hmm?” Remus scooted against his side, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt with one hand while the other tipped his chin over for a kiss.

“I’m about—” Sirius’ palm cradled the side of his face as his tongue swiped along his lower lip. “—to have sex with my husband.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“In our bed.” Another kiss to the ridge of his cheek.

“Mhmm.”

“On our wedding night.”

“Indeed.”

“After an amazing party and fucking fantastic pizza.”

“It was pretty great.” Remus tangled their legs together and tugged Sirius on top of him, sliding the shirt off his shoulders with a smile. “Have I mentioned how amazing you look in a suit?”

Sirius ran his hands under Remus’ shirt, tracing his ribs. “Once or twice. How do you want me?”

“I wanna see you.” He unbuckled Sirius’ belt and tossed it to the side, laughing a little at the clatter it made when it hit the floor before he pulled him down for a hard kiss that was more tongue and teeth than anything else. “Fuck, it’s a good thing the season’s over.”

Sirius hummed as he slipped each of Remus’ buttons out one by one, running his index finger down the line of his sternum. “It is. I think Coach was getting tired of seeing me with a limp.”

Remus pulled back slightly with his fingertips still under the waistband of Sirius’ pants. “Why would you be limping?”

He blinked. “Because…I’m about to get fucked into next week?”

“But you grabbed my ass at the restaurant.”

“Sweetheart, I grab your ass all the time.”

“I thought it was a hint!”

Sirius sat up and made a timeout motion. “So we each thought the other was dropping hints about who was topping tonight?”

“…I think so.” Remus crossed his legs under himself and held his hands out. “Alright, let’s settle this like adults.”

“Rock, paper, scissors, sh—Remus!”

“What? We always do it on ‘scissors’!”

Sirius sighed and shook his hands out. “We always do it on ‘shoot’, honey. Take two. Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

“Fuck,” Remus muttered as they both did ‘rock’. “Third time’s a charm. Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

“Merde. This isn’t going to work, we know each other too well.” Sirius turned his puppy eyes on and Remus’ heart clenched. “Compromise?”

“How about…” He scooted forward, sliding Sirius’ tie off his neck and nosing down the side of his neck. “I tie you down and ride you into the mattress?”

Sirius hummed and tilted his chin to the side.

Remus moved up to his lips, pressing an open-mouthed kiss there. “And I could blow you?”

He felt a smile against his skin and gasped as Sirius nipped his lower lip. “Deal.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he said as he traced the familiar shapes of Sirius’ chest and soft skin; under his palms, a heartbeat quickened. “Easy, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

Sirius’ laugh was little more than a huff when Remus pushed him onto his back and straddled his waist to pull his own shirt off the rest of the way. “I know, that’s what I’m waiting for.”

His head fell back as Remus scattered light hickeys over his ribs and skimmed his nipples once in a while just to feel his hips buck on reflex—a lovely half-moan slipped through when Remus ran his blunt nails down his sides. “Can I see my surprise now?”

“Please,” Sirius panted, dragging him down for a brief, hard kiss.

Remus paused for a moment to cup Sirius’ face in his hands, pulling away with softer kisses before unbuttoning the front of his pants and sliding them down his legs; something soft with an itchy edge scraped against the side of his hand and his chest stuttered. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

“You haven’t even—unh—seen it.”

“Don’t have to.” Remus rolled his hips down again and Sirius’ breath hitched as he pulled away, shifting to get a proper view of the surprise. “Fuck, baby.”

“Yeah?”

Remus traced the edge of the garter, watching the scalloped lace and deep red ribbon ripple under his touch, setting off the summertime gold of Sirius’ skin like a wet dream. “Mhmm. Very pretty.”

Sirius closed his eyes as he hooked a finger under the elastic, giving it a quick snap before soothing the burn with his mouth; he feathered his lips over the strange texture, leaving small love bites in his wake before taking the edge between his teeth and slowly dragging it down Sirius’ leg. He shuddered when it slipped past the back of his knee and Remus smoothed a hand down his calf.

“Voila.” Remus held the garter up once it was off and cocked a playful eyebrow at Sirius, who couldn’t seem to decide where he wanted to put his knees. “Do you want to take mine off, too?”

“Hell no, you’re keeping it on.” Sirius reached for his pants and Remus shifted to help get them pants off—Sirius paused when the first edge of black and blue lace appeared, then took a deep breath and shoved them the rest of the way down so Remus could kick them off the bed. “Yeah, that’s staying on for the rest of your fucking life.”

“And you’ll be there the whole time,” Remus said, bracketing his waist as Sirius toyed with the edge of the garter. “The rest of our life.”

Something unbearably soft overtook Sirius’ face and he went still, scanning every inch of Remus in awe. “Our life,” he murmured, running a thumb under Remus’ eye. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me, too.” He ground down and Sirius gasped, reaching one hand toward the nightstand as the other dug into Remus’ hip; Remus caught his wrist and pulled it to his mouth. “Not yet, baby.”

Sirius twitched under his thigh and he grinned, sliding damp kisses to the crook of his elbow before shifting until he was level with his navel. Gray-blue eyes, glazed with anticipation, locked on his own before fluttering closed as he wrapped his hands around the backs of Sirius’ knees and licked along the fabric at the top of his dick. “Oh, fuck me,” Sirius breathed, flopping back down and throwing an arm over his eyes.

“I thought we established it was going to be the other way around?” Remus teased as he toyed with the edge of his boxers, tugging and snapping without ever moving them as he dampened the front.

“I love the way you look like that.”

“Then look.” He reached up and tapped Sirius’ elbow. “Come on, baby, look at me.”

A shimmer of silver appeared and Remus grinned, tonguing the vein he could feel swelling under his lips. Sirius took a deep breath and stretched his arms over his head, arching his lower back until Remus canted his hips back down and removed his boxers in a smooth motion. He sucked a hickey into the ridge of each hip, kissing a swirling pattern all the way to his inner thigh until he heard a whine at the tail end of Sirius’ exhale. “Are you going to be mean tonight?”

“Mean?” Remus’ smile widened and he shifted to lay on Sirius’ chest, closing his hand around his dick and pressing his thumb beneath the head. “Ever heard of something called foreplay?”

Sirius draped his arms over Remus’ neck and wound his fingers in his hair, giving a gentle tug. “You live to torment me.”

“Unfortunately, you love it.” Remus kissed him gently and gave him a quick squeeze before scooting back down the bed to take the tip into his mouth. Sirius cursed and twisted his hands in the sheets, and a tremor ran through him when Remus pulled away. “Do you need something to hold?”

“I—maybe?” Sirius flexed his fingers, already so hard he was starting to drip.

Wordlessly, Remus took one of his hands and put it back in his hair, then laced his own with the other. “Much better,” he murmured against the shaft before taking him down far enough that Sirius’ mouth fell open slightly. The light pressure at the back of his head made Remus’ eyes fall shut in bliss and he squeezed Sirius’ hand with a hum that sent a shiver down his legs.

“You’re fucking perfect,” Sirius panted. His eyebrows pitched as his dick hit the back of Remus’ throat and his grip tingled all the way down Remus’ spine. “Mon loup, mon coeur, oh—fuck, mon mari.”

Remus swallowed on reflex as the nickname lit up every pleasure center in his body and Sirius moaned, pushing him further. The corners of his vision went speckly for a moment and he pulled off with a cough, though he kept one hand curled around the shaft.

“D’accord?”

“Got a little excited,” Remus rasped, licking his lips as he went back to his previous position. “Good?”

“Of course it’s fucking good, it’s y—do that again.” A whimper caught in Sirius’ throat as Remus hollowed his cheeks, then sat back.

“Are you close?”

Sirius nodded, a little desperate as he ran his palms down Remus’ biceps and tried to bring him back. “So close, don’t stop.”

“Unless you think you can go twice…” Remus raised an eyebrow and Sirius bit his lip. “Really?”

He made a distressed noise and brought his knees up to squeeze around Remus’ waist. “I don’t know, I just—I need something, sweetheart, don’t leave me hanging.”

Remus leaned over to slide up his body until they were face-to-face, pinning his hands to the mattress. “That was quick.”

“If you knew what your mouth felt like—” Sirius’ defense was cut short by a kiss that he eagerly returned; Remus dug around with his free hand in the tangled sheets and smiled when he felt a brush of familiar material, looping it loosely around Sirius’ right wrist. Their chests bumped together and Remus shuddered when he felt Sirius’ shaft, slick against his own.

“This okay?”

“More. More, more, yes.” Sirius hissed the last word as Remus tightened the tie and wound the other end around one post of their headboard. “Mine’s on the—fuck, on the left side.”

A slip of black stood out against the white of their sheets and he pulled it free before tying it around Sirius’ other wrist, making sure it was just as tight before settling into his lap and opening the nightstand drawer. “Y’know, I thought you’d want to do this before I tied you up.”

Sirius’ already-labored breathing stuttered for a moment when he saw the lube. “I do.”

“You made your choice.”

“Sweetheart,” he whined, tugging at the restraints with a slight pout. “Let me do it.”

Remus paused midway through slicking his fingers and glanced down. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you want me to untie you. Once they come off, they don’t go back on.”

Sirius chewed his lower lip, gaze flickering between Remus’ face and hand. Finally, he sighed and relaxed a bit. “You’re so hot when you’re bossy.”

“Am I?” Remus closed his eyes as his first finger pushed in. The rough edge of Sirius’ sex voice had finally appeared and he let it wash over him, crackling against every nerve like a live wire as he ground back onto his hand. His fingers were slimmer than Sirius’—it was an odd feeling after so long.

“I love seeing you melt under me, but it’s different when you’re telling me what to do.” A slight roll of Sirius’ hips spread Remus’ knees further and he half-moaned at the sensation, adding a second. “God, Re, you’re fucking beautiful.”

Remus smiled, letting his head fall slightly to the side as he brushed his sweet spot and rocked down; the garter around his thigh slid against his skin and Sirius pushed his legs up, supporting more of Remus’ weight. “Mmm, still good?”

“Add another.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Remus.” Sirius spread his legs wider; since Remus was straddling him, he dropped down as well. “Add another.”

He took a second to catch his breath, then slid the third in. His mouth fell open with a staccato huff and he grabbed Sirius’ leg for balance, fighting the urge to ride his own hand until his building orgasm pulled him under. “Ngh—fuck, should’ve done this before blowing you.”

“At least I’ll last a little longer now,” Sirius mused, flicking his gaze toward the lube. His dick was still shiny with precome and Remus bit his lip to stop himself from taking him back down his throat. Other plans, he reminded himself. You have other plans.

He sank down on Sirius’ lap and kept a tight grip on those broad shoulders, watching as Sirius’ eyes unfocused. The first grind of his hips made fireworks pop behind Remus’ eyelids and he made an embarrassingly needy noise that was made slightly better by Sirius’ strangled groan. “I love you,” he gasped out, rolling his hips harder on the next push. “Oh god, that’s good.”

“I still can’t get over the—merde, comment dit on?” Sirius’ knees jerked inward and Remus scrabbled for a hold on his chest as the head slid over his prostate. “The ribbon thing? Lace, looks fantastic on you.”

“Garter. ‘s called a garter.” And I’m wearing it because I married you.

“What’s the smile for?” Sirius’ voice was soft and Remus blinked his eyes open as he sat down all the way, circling his hips slowly; his hands were clenched tight on the ties and a high flush colored his chest and cheeks, but his expression was downright smitten. Somehow, that was just as sexy as the flexing muscles of his abdomen as he met Remus’ motions.

“I just...” He shook his head, running his palms down miles of warm skin. His face ached from smiling all day long, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “We’re married. We got married for real. I fucking love you and you’re mine forever.”

Sirius’ eyes shone in the low light of their bedroom and his breath hitched. “Forever. I like the sound of that.”

“Can I untie you?” Remus stopped moving and soaked in the feeling of being warm, of being full. Sweat cooled on his back and he heard Sirius sniffle. “Are you okay?”

“Untie me, then I’ll tell you.”

He was careful as he loosened each knot and pulled them over Sirius’ wrists, almost reverent with each twist and tug. Once both wrists were free, he pulled them up and kissed Sirius’ pulse points, sinking into a puddle of mush when broad palms cradled his face gently. Remus looked down with a half-smile. “Spill the big secret, baby.”

Sirius kept his hands on Remus’ face as he guided him down to brush their noses together and press the ghost of a kiss to his lips. A single tear sparkled in the lamplight as it rolled down to his ear. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted. I never thought I would be able to have this kind of happiness, but you—” His voice broke and Remus felt something prickle behind his eyes. “You’re it, Re.”

“You know what I just realized?”

“Hmm?”

“We never did the ‘til death do us part’ line.”

Sirius smiled and traced Remus’ cheekbones like he was a holy relic. “As if death would ever stop me from loving you.”

“You’re so fucking romantic.” Remus pressed the heel of his palm against his eye as the tears tracked down his face and euphoria turned his whole body hot. He took a few deep breaths and swiped the dampness from his face before leaning back down to kiss Sirius soundly, pouring everything he had into their shared breaths. “I’m not—Sirius, I don’t tell you often, but you are my whole world. I’m not good with sappy words but I hope you know that I love you with everything I have and everything I am.”

“I know.” It was amazing how such simple words could make Remus’ heart pound with joy. He knew what heartbreak felt like, had tasted it and burned with it when he thought Sirius would leave him. But this...

Remus kissed Sirius’ forehead and held his lips there; the world narrowed to them, the breath on his collarbone, and the heartbeat under his hand. If heartbreak felt like spattering on the ground, this was flight, and he knew he would never come down from it.

They stayed like that for two seconds, an hour, a millennia before Remus shifted and electricity sparked through his lungs, kickstarting the heat that raced in his veins. Sirius held him close, snapping his hips upward as he kept a constant hand on the blue-black garter around Remus’ thigh—Remus had bought the thing as a bit of a joke, thinking it was the perfect cross between elegant and just tacky enough to make Sirius laugh with the tiny bow on one side. Evidently, he had misjudged the sexy factor.

Sounds punched from Sirius’ lungs, desperate and wanting despite the fact that Remus would happily give him whatever he desired. “Re, Re, please.”

“What do you want?” he murmured into the space under Sirius’ ear, skimming his fingertips over his ribcage until he dipped one side of his hips down with a moan and drew a cut-off cry from Remus’ mouth. “Sirius.”

“Don’t stop moving,” Sirius begged, even as he wrapped his hands around the base of Remus’ waist and pulled him into the right spot, fingertips digging into his lower back. “Do not stop doing that.”

His breaths were coming faster and the world blurred into shapes and colors as the wave crept up on him once more; if Remus had any shred of awareness left, he was sure his face would itch from dried tears, but he had reached the point of so-close-almost-there-just-a-little-more where everything was tortured bliss. “It’s so much,” he heard himself pant. “It’s so much, oh my god.”

Sirius was asking him something, babbling in French—more, sweetheart, mon coeur, mon mari—but Remus only caught every third word.

Husband. That means husband. The cool metal of Sirius’ rings was stark against the overwhelming heat of his thigh and he shivered, curling one hand in the sheets and framing the side of Sirius’ neck with the other as his thighs ached from dropping down again, and again, and again.

“It does.” Sirius trembled in every muscle as he wrapped his arms around Remus and ravaged the side of his neck with kisses and bites. “Mon mari. Mine, my husband. Go on, I want to hear you say it.”

“Mon mari.” The words sounded muddled in his ears, but it must have been enough, because Sirius fell apart beneath him with a shout muffled in the junction of his neck and shoulder. All it took was a hand closing around his shaft for Remus to jolt and moan and melt, tasting the salt of sweat along with something so quintessentially Sirius that he couldn’t help but bury his face in it and ride out the tide.

“I love you.” Remus blinked, propping himself on shaky forearms to meet Sirius’ eyes. They gleamed in the warm amber glow of the bedside lamp they found at a yard sale not three weeks prior. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” A smile spread across his face, followed by what could only be described as a giggle. “Sirius, I love you so much.”

“We got married,” Sirius laughed; the slightly hysterical crack to his voice only made them both laugh harder and Remus rolled to the side, clutching Sirius’ hand in his own as new tears of mirth gathered in the corners of his eyes.

“Who let us do that?” Remus managed after a second. “Who authorized this?”

“Minerva fucking McGonagall, that’s who.”

“We need to send her a fruit basket or something. Maybe a cat.”

“She does like cats,” Sirius agreed; he glanced over at Remus, still grinning, and then flopped on top of him like a dead weight.

“Ow,” Remus wheezed, torn between shoving him off and snuggling closer. “Ugh, you’re all sweaty.”

“And whose fault is that, hmm?” Sirius raised his eyebrows and scooted into a proper cuddling position, where he could press a smacking kiss to Remus’ cheek. “You’re in no place to talk, either.”

“I’m in the perfect place, actually,” Remus said, letting his legs fall open so Sirius could settle properly; he snuggled closer and kissed the dip of his collarbone. “We need to shower at some point, but…”

“…but you’re going to be raring to go in twenty minutes and I’m not moving until I cuddle the living hell out of you.” Sirius raised his head and stuck his lower lip out in a pout. “I missed our morning snuggles. As cute as Harry is, it’s not the same at all.”

“Tell me about it,” Remus muttered. “The next time we get married, we’re not sleeping in separate beds the night before. It’s a stupid tradition.”

“Deal. When are we getting married a second time? I’d rather not divorce you five hours after we tied the knot.”

“I guess we’ll just have to plan another wedding.”

“Do I get to propose this time?”

“Sure. It certainly takes a lot of the pressure off me.”

“You knew I’d say yes,” Sirius scoffed, giving him a playful squeeze around the ribs.

Remus shrugged. “It’s scarier than you think.”

“It’s not that hard.” Sirius shifted around for a moment, then pulled Remus’ wedding ring off and made a mock-serious face as he held it up. “Remus Lupin, will you marry me?”

“Gimme that,” Remus laughed, snatching the ring back and sliding it on. “For the record, yes.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard.”

He tapped the underside of Sirius’ chin with his finger and drew him down for a brief kiss, resting their foreheads together. “I’d marry you every day if I could.”

“It’s a good thing we’ve got a lot of days ahead of us, then.”

[bostongirl13]

Merry Christmas

A/N: It should have been a follow-up to this 👉 New Dodger Photo, but Chris didn't upload a new Dodger photo and I had to improvise because I really wanted the story to go on. I'm sorry for the mistakes and hope you enjoy it.

P.S. Why do I always have such a problem with writing the ending

Summary: Every woman loves diamonds

Words: 1200+

Warnings: AGE GAP, fluff, mistakes

My works: You are my home;  I do not stare, I admire;  Christmas Shopping 

Christmas is a time for family and friends, for warm drinks and warm laughter, for sharing good stories and books, a time for the wealth of loving bonds, to see the "unseen" everything that makes living so wonderful every day of the year. This year was really hard and for you, it was the first time you spent Christmas without your family. Luckily, you weren't alone.

"Y / N have you seen my watch, the one Scott gave me last year?"

"Did you check on your hand?" you laughed.

"Don't be so smart pretty girl" Chris walked up to you and kissed you on the forehead.

You smiled as you turned away from him and walked towards the wardrobes. Although you did not spend these holidays with your family, you did spend them in the company of the sexiest, most wonderful, and beloved man in the world. You were happy that at least he came into your life in this strange and crazy year.

"Ready?"

You nodded and grabbed his hand.

The Evans family home was far from a peaceful oasis. Children running around, adults talking, the sounds of the TV and toys mixed with Christmas songs in the background. You had to admit that you liked such a holiday very much. For as long as you can remember, it was always just you, mom, and dad. There were many more people here.

Late in the evening time slowed down. Tired children sat and watched Christmas cartoons and movies, while adults sat on the couch, armchairs, and the floor. The gingerbread men with their chocolate buttons and eyes were resting on the plate. Soon they will be dunked in Italian style hot chocolate.

When the end credits of Frozen appeared on the TV, Chris stood up and walked over to the piano in the corner of the room. You smiled as you stroked the Dodger who was sleeping soundly on the couch next to you, his head in your lap. Scott took his brother's place on your dear side mumbling something under his nose that how was it possible that the dog was sitting on the couch and he was on the floor, and you burst out laughing and nudged him with your elbow. After a short while, Chris started playing one of the famous Christmas tunes.

Christmas tree lights flickered as if they are the moon on a starry night; bright, beautiful, and breath-taking, illuminating your boyfriend's profile. And the sound stirs wonders in your soul.

You were never in love like you were in love with Chris. This feeling is so strange; it stretches throughout my whole body. It’s overwhelming, yet makes you feel complete. It feels as though you are in a dangerous fire, yet you are completely safe at the same time. It feels as though someone's given you peace. It feels as though your heart is dancing around your chest.

After playing a few songs, Chris stood up and, not taking his eyes off you, walked over, taking something out of his pocket in the meantime. You were a little distracted from talking to Scott until Chris stood in front of you and looked at you with those blue eyes of his.

"Y / N" he began and knelt on one knee. In his hand, he held a small satin box which he opened, and you saw a silver diamond ring. "When I first met you, you seemed like a free bird who doesn't care about the future and lives only in the present, but I quickly realized that there was much more to you. Getting to know you day after day I saw how you have your life planned, and at least you try to do it as far as fate allows you "he laughed nervously. Tears started to build up in your eyes and your breath got stuck in your lungs, you couldn't draw air, but it felt good. " Falling in love with you and I realized you are my home. When you smile at me, time stops, when your hands wrapping around me you made me feel safe. When your eyes are locked on mine, it's like I can see galaxies instead of just pupils. Having you in my life makes me feel like everything's possible in this world like I can conquer anything. I don't regret meeting you and I know I might be your first but what I really wish in life is for you to be your last.” Chris took a deep breath. "We used to talk about children, the future, marriage. And when I asked if at 22 you would be ready to start a family with someone, you replied that if you could find the right person you would say yes without hesitating. So I hope I am the one. the right person and answer "yes" to my question. Will you marry me, Princess? "

When he asked you it was as if every ounce of breath was taken from your lungs floating into the air like midnight smoke. You never thought you would hear that question from someone, and certainly not from Chris Evans. But life likes to surprise as it turns out. Seeing the man kneeling in front of you, the world began to spin around you. But you knew he was the one.

Every time he kissed you it felt like the world stopped, leaving just the two of us to wander the earth together. Every time you held your face between his hands it felt like he was untying all of my knots. Holding you for eternity in the arms you’ve grown so accustomed to. This is what falling in love was like, a story you never wanted to end. For so long you had longed for it, and now you feel so complete.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you did not realize how many minutes had passed since Chris asked you.

"Y / N" you heard a little girl's voice "I guess you should answer now," Stella said as she stared at you.

You looked again at the man kneeling in front of you. Chris was clearly panicked and nervous. His eyes looked at you, waiting for what you said. His whole life depended now on what words left his mouth.

"I'm sorry ..." you started and you swore you heard the loud beating heart in Chris's chest break to pieces and tears appeared in his eyes. You smiled and put your hands on his cheeks, unable to contain your emotions. "Yes, yes, I'll marry you, Chris," you finally said, feeling the tears trickle down your cheeks.

Chris breathed a sigh of relief and slipped the ring on your finger and practically attacked your mouth. He did not care that his relatives surrounded him. At that moment, he was the happiest man in the world. He shoved his tongue into those mouths, making you groan softly as your tongues danced together.

"I love you so damn much, Princess"

"I love you too, handsome"

You both confessed when you pulled away to catch your breath.

Maybe 2020 hasn't been as fucked up as it seems.

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

Tag: @patzammit  

#chris evans x reader #chrisevans #chris evans #chris evans x reader smut #chris evans smut #chris evans imagines #chris evans imagine #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x oc #chris evans edit #chris evans fluff #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans fandom #chris evans fanart #evansedit #dodger evans #dodger #new dodger photo #my writing #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x original female character

[lucidskittler]

I ask IRL friends for 5-word prompts on the pretense of it being a writing exercise. It kinda is tho right? But i have levihan brainrot so I do this:

Levi had led a simple life but he was never one to waste his chances. He grew up in the streets and knew just how to get the most favorable result of any circumstance, so when he finds out he was the heir to a large estate for being traced as the last descent of the Ackerman Family, he knew something as huge of an opportunity as this was worth any consequence to follow so he immediately moves into town. The news of him being a new resident travelled around town like wildfire. You see, the most recent BOURGEOIS family that occupied the house died mysterious deaths. Come to think of it, everyone who had ever stayed there too long had always died suspiciously which earned him such pitiful knowing glances from the ton but he just happily shrugged them off thinking that it was a small price to pay.

There had always been a mystery going on in the Old Acker Manor and reports of this EERIE LIGHT casting gloom OVERHEAD anyone who dares to walk alone in a certain CORRIDOR, on the left wing at anytime of day. There was also a dark history accompanying the single portait that hung beside the fire place in the library of that same wing. It was the only object in the huge room that wasn't plagued with MILDEW. It was a picture that of an unnamed woman, a beautiful brunette with lush brown locks and playful eyes in a pale yellow gown, the wife of the original owner. It was said that the husband was made to go to war and so she was forced to wait and wait and wait for years for his return. One day, death paid her a visit, coincidentally on the very day the war ended! It was so frustrating. She was so close to being reunited with the love of her life again. She was so desperate and so determined to see him once more so she could at least leave the world in peace, that she decides to make a pact with the devil for her to stay for just a little while longer, just until her lover's return she says. But you know how deals with the devil go, "A while longer" turned out to mean until the end of time because as it turns out, her husband supposedly passed on the very same day. She wasn't allowed to crossover without seeing her husband again, she brought that upon herself and that man was probaby looking for her on the otherside, as well. Both were stuck waiting for their otherhalf for all eternity on opposite spiritual planes. "Gobshite" Levi swore under his breath as he recalled the tragic lore. He finished off the glass of whiskey in his hand while staring at the painting. He was strangely drawn to it and felt obliged visit it, and this night was no different.

As he turned to leave, there was suddenly a gust of ice cold wind kissing his skin, raising goosebumps all over the areas it touched and making the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand. He turned to look at the portrait again and was surprised at the sight and almost fell over. On the other side of the fireplace was a frame right in front of where he was standing, barely noticeable because of the thick layer of mildew hugging it but it slowly became more prominent by the second and was being restored it to its former glory. It looked like time was turning backwards at lightspeed as he sees the thick dust and white powdery substances covering it were being lifted and the decay on it being undone, revealing a mirror. But, before his mind could process that he was wrong, that it wasn't his reflection he was seeing but instead a painting of a man with a stoic expression and eyes of steel gray and midnight hair, the fireplace suddenly burst into flames, and as he turned to the source of light he saw her-- the woman. The sight of her removed all the fear and confusion from his mind. He was in awe. She was much more beautiful in person with her sunkissed skin and rosy cheeks and eyes like buring embers shining with affection and a glint of mischief. He was distracted by her light but the calm only lasted a second. The next moment, his jaw tightened and his eyes suddenly rolled to the back of his head. Levi felt as though his entire body was slammed forcefully into a wall as the weight of all the memories come crashing in. His body then suddenly ached and blood was staining through his clothes. It felt as though old wounds of the past were opening literally ripping him apart. It was hell. When he opened his eyes he immediately searched for her remembering full well who she was. She saw her in the fire, her face etched in dismay and worry for him as she hurriedly reached out to him with tears in her eyes. He walked towards her, eyes burning with desire heart breaking in longing. He took her hand letting her pull him into the hellfire with her, capturing him in a tight embrace that nulled all the pain. You'd think the flames would've burned his soul into oblivion, but It didn't, instead it surprisingly washed all the pain and sorrow away. The flames dancing around them, seemed to be rejoicing at their reunion, and were warm to the touch, reaching in the depths of his wounds healing him and melting away the ice from his unfeeling heart, filling him with love and right then he understood that she was all the goodness in the world he'd lost lifetimes ago. She was the only thing he needed.

After a long moment of basking in her warmth, he finally manages to pull away and look at her. He brushed her cheek wiping away her tears and whispers"

"Thank you for waiting for me, Hange."

And as they both leaned in closer the fire started to spread and engulfed both of them immortalizing their love with a fiery kiss.

The next morning people gathered around the front where a large structure once used to be, now reduced to ashes and debris. The police were interviewing eyewitnesses. They all said the same thing. The help said their master had been quietly locking himself up at night. The only difference was that last night he was screaming in agony but refused to open the door and remained locked inside the library as fire rapidly spread gobbling up the entire estate in no time. Some of the dramatic townspeople would even go as far as to describe it as hellfire reclaiming it's property. Whatever it is that happened, there was one thing for certain, It was just another peculiar death, but this one was thankfully the last of the evil wrath of the Old Acker Manor.

He always knew how to make the most of each circumstance and nothing else would ever be worth his while. A small price to pay for happiness of a life time: His soul.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #prompt w/o anons #its me the crazy anon lady w/o anons #so im technically just a crazy lady hahaahaha

[amphxtrite]

ron weasley x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, pinning, mentions of eating.

summary: after a bad breakup, ron’s eyes open to the realization it wasn’t meant to be, instead seeing you as the one for him.

a/n: thank you to my darling @amourtentiaa for giving me this idea to write!!

word count: 3.2k

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

Nightly prefect duties seemed to always have you wandering the Hogwarts halls in search of meddling first years and giggling fifths, and tonight was no exception.

The only sound heard is the shuffle of your feet against stone and your light humming as the cool night air hits your face in a cool breeze. You round the corner to the gryffindor common room, where a soft, muffled sob catches your attention.

You frown, who was up at this hour crying?

You pull your cloak closer to your body and sigh, but another voice catches your ear.

“Ron, it’ll be alright, p-please.”

Harry. Your eyes widen and after whispering the password Ron had given to you, you quietly enter and glance around the room of red and gold.

You were right, Ron and Harry sat by the fireplace, Harry in his pajamas, and Ron with a blanket wrapped around his shoulder.

“Ron? Harry? What’s going on, it’s midnight-.” Your sentence is cut short as Ron swivels his face to reveal his puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.

“Oh my goodness Ron. What happened?” You exclaim, rushing to the boy’s side.

“y/n.” Ron sniffles, quickly wiping his eyes and managing a weak smile.

“D-Don’t worry about me, j-just allergies.” Ron chuckles nervously, glancing at Harry for help.

“Ronald Weasley, I’ve known you since we were six, I know when you’re upset.” You sigh, wrapping your arms around the sniffling redhead.

“Go get some rest Harry, I’ll look after him.” You state smiling, waving the yawning brunette back up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory.

“Now, mind telling me what’s got you down Ronnie?” You murmur, smiling softly at the nickname Molly had given her son.

Ron rolls his eyes lightly with a small grin as a small tear rolls down his cheek.

“I know we weren’t together for long, b-but I thought me and Hermione were gonna work.” Ron sighs, shuffling himself so he’s sitting against the couch and facing the crackling fire. The flames dance in his deep blue eyes as he holds his head in his palms.

“And then she told me she wasn’t ready. And I know I can’t be mad or upset about that, but still.” Ron mumbles, crossing his arms.

“Hey, come here.” You sigh, opening your arms and bringing the redhead close to you.

“We’re still rather young Ronnie, Hermione doesn’t have to be with you now in order to be with you forever.” You note, tapping the finger on his freckled nose.

“You have a point.”

“Exactly, there’s no reason for my best friend to cry, now come on, how does hot cocoa sound?” You smirk, watching as Ron’s eyes widen and his lips pull up.

“Sounds perfect.”

The two of you sneak your way down to the kitchens, being wary of every creak in the wall or soft meow of a cat. You reach your destination and as you finally enter the kitchens, you burst into a fit of giggles.

As you begin warming some milk on the stove, Ron grabs some leftover pastries lying on the tables from dinner that day.

He begins nibbling on a tart, but he gets sidetracked when his ears prick up at the sound of your voice humming as you stir your sweet concoction, and an unconscious grin makes its way onto his face.

He turns and returns to his spot at your side as he holds your favourite dessert by your lips for you to take.

You hum in thanks and take a bite, letting the sweet flavours warm your body up. Ron chuckles as your hips begin to sway a bit as you hum, and he joins you in a light dance before you pour the steaming liquid into mugs and sit at a large wooden table.

“Amazing as always y/n.” Ron compliments, taking a long sip of his hot chocolate.

“Oh you flatter me Ronnie.” You giggle.

Ron brings his mug down from his lip to make a witty remark, but instead his voice catches in his throat.

You were turned and facing the fire, the dancing flames illuminating your face in a soft orange glow as your lips curved into a gentle smile. Ron can feel his face go as bright as the fire, and he quickly lifts the mug back to his face to conceal it.

“So… Are you feeling any better?” You smile, turning back to the redhead.

“Oh. M-Much better, thank you y/n.” Ron stumbles, slapping a smile on his face and chuckling nervously.

“I’m glad, here I’ll take the mugs back.”

Ron nods as you take the cup from his hand and walk back over to the kitchen counter, using your wand to quickly clean them before placing them back in a cupboard.

A light, warm feeling engulfs the gryffindor’s chest as he watches you, mesmerized by your every move. Thoughts of a future where you do the same in his arms flash before him, leaving him with a soft smirk and rosy cheeks as his eyebrows furrow.

He just got out of a relationship with Hermione, he shouldn’t be feeling these emotions so soon, and for one of his best friends? This couldn’t be right.

“Hey Ron, I found some chocolate stashed away here, do you want some?”

“I-I’m alright y/n.” He murmurs, a stupid grin widening on his lips.

Oh bloody hell, maybe he did fancy you.

With his face surely the same colour as his hair, he turns so he’s facing the other direction. It definitely wasn’t normal to have fantasies of your best friend in your arms while you swayed in your kitchen, but he might be mistaken! He couldn’t possibly be in love with his smart, sarcastic, caring and absolutely beautiful best friend!

Ron sighs in exasperation and rubs runs a hand through his hair, letting a small sigh pass his lips.

“H-Hey y/n?”

“What’s up?”

“I-I’ve got a question.” He states plainly, no going back now.

“Go on, Ronnie.” Your voice chimes unknowingly.

The redhead takes a deep breath and smiles a little at the way you say his name.

“Have you ever thought about us? Like what we could be?” Ron stammers, swallowing his fear.

Your eyes widen and you turn.

“I-I’m sorry, what do you mean by us?” You question cautiously, walking back towards Ron.

“Well you know. A relationship, you and me.” Ron explains further, turning back around to face you.

You search his eyes. Looking for any shred of amusement, but you find none.

“Y-You’re joking right?” You question, letting out a chuckle laced with disbelief.

“Well-”

“Ron, you’re my best friend, I don’t think we could… Work.” You answer swiftly, motioning between the two of you.

“Oh, I-I understand, I was just curious you know?” Ron smiles, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“Of course! I understand, um- goodnight!” You nod, retreating back out the kitchen’s secret entrance, your blood rushing to your ears as your heart beats a million miles a minute.

You step back out into the familiar walls, your feet rushing you back to the y/h common room, you run up the stairs to your dorm. Quickly pulling off your cloak you sit down in the dark room and hold your head in your hands.

Similarly in the gryffindor common room, Ron sits recounting the night’s activity to Harry.

“Weren’t you just upset about Mione half an hour ago mate? What’s gotten into you?”

Ron sighs, burying himself into his mattress as he attempts to drown in his pillow.

“Well?” Harry questions.

“I-I don’t know, okay! It just slipped out. Merlin I’m an idiot.” Ron groans, shooting up into a sitting position and holding his face in his hands.

“And Hermione?”

“Harry, think! Mione and I weren’t going to work no matter how hard I crushed on her.” Ron sighs. “But y/n. She’s been there for me since we were kids, she’s always been there for me, I’ve just been too much of a twat to notice.” Ron grimaces, flopping back onto his mattress.

“Well what are you going to do?” Harry questions, staring down at his hands.

“Well the only thing I can do. Give it a shot, and if she says no, pretend it never happened.” Ron shrugs, tossing his covers over him again.

Life goes on the same after that, but the platonic relationship between you and the redhead seems to be in a weird spot. You try to ignore it, but the longing glances and light brushes of your hand push you, and you’re not sure what to think. Ron’s never shown this kind of touchiness with you, and now that he’s constantly by your side, it was weird to take in.

“You don’t think Ronald’s taken a fancy in you, do you?” Luna questions, shutting her book from in front of her.

“No, why would you say that?” Your eyes narrow and glance at the blonde.

“Well he’s looking over right now, kind of reminds me of a puppy.” Luna shrugs, pulling what you presumed to be the newest edition of the quibbles from her backpack.

“He has been acting rather strange recently, I don’t know what to make of it.” You sigh, glancing over to indeed see the gryffindor looking over at the two of you.

“Do you fancy him?”

“Well. I-I don’t know Luna.” You answer truthfully, shutting your textbook and placing it back in your backpack.

“I’ll see you at dinner alright.”

Luna nods, turning back to her reading as you sling your book bag over your shoulder and walk out of the library as a shuffle of feet has you swiveling around again.

“Y/n!” A familiar deep voice calls.

“Oh hey Ronnie.” You smile, tightening your grip on the bag strap resting on your shoulder.

“Mind if I walk you back to your common room?”

“Of course not.” You laugh, rolling your eyes lightly.

The trip back to the y/h common room is filled with light conversation as it usually would, though your breath would catch whenever you felt Ron’s ‘unknowing’ hand brush past your fingers.

“L-Listen, about last night. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I-I didn’t mean it that way.” Ron sighs, trying to clear the tension between you two.

Your heart jumps to your throat when you hear this and you lose your ability to speak, you choose to simply nod, smile and enter the common room.

Once you’re sure you’re out of earshot, you let out a deep sigh and head for the girl’s dormitory, deeply pondering your thoughts.

He didn’t mean it like that? What was that supposed to mean? He didn’t fancy you that was for sure.

You had intrusive thoughts quite a bit, maybe Ron had just let one slip?

Then, why did you lose your train of thought when he told you that? Your feelings for Ron were platonic, there was no way you could feel this way.

Days fly by and Ron is still yet to note anything about his past comment, he does his best to try and hint at his crush, but your reaction is never quite what he’s going for.

If he offered you a compliment, you blushed but responded as if he were a brother. If he invited you down to the kitchens, you’d find an excuse not to go. If he stood close to you, you either looked anywhere but him or nervously shuffled away. He thought he was being bloody obvious about his feelings for you, but one quick chat with Luna made him realize perhaps small signs weren’t enough.

“She’s convinced you don’t fancy her Ron.”

“Not at all? Does she fancy me?” Ron sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to say, these types of things are secrets after all.” Luna smiles, continuing her sketching.

It was time for drastic measures and Ron knew it, so he stepped up his game. Flowers and letters began presenting themselves on the windowsill by your bed, they were never signed, but conveyed passion and adoration, every single one had you a smiling mess tucked in your covers.

Ron was never quite good with words, but he did his best and they seemed to have a good affect. You were back to your cheery self around him, the cloud of awkwardness disappearing from the two of you. Along with the small notes and handpicked daisies he sent as the unknown sender, Ron began growing closer to you. His hugs lasted a couple seconds longer, his pinky would intertwine with yours if you stood side by side and he began treating you more as a crush and less, just a friend.

If he didn’t see you at dinner, he’d send a meal up with your roommate. If he found you pressuring yourself too much with studying, he’d pull you away from your books and take you on a walk around the castle. His letters became longer and more loving, and with the details hidden in the words, you were beginning to feel this secret sender was Ron, and you were falling for him.

Rosy cheeks became something you accepted not something you hid away, your arms stayed wrapped around the redhead until you had to pull away, or when he let go first, you caved into your feelings and allowed yourself to fall.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you scan over your essay for the third time that hour to check for mistakes, when a brunette takes a seat in front of you and clears her throat.

“Oh Hi Mione, how can I help you?”

“You fancy him don’t you?” She smirks, leaning forwards in her spot.

“I beg your pardon?” You respond, baffled by her question.

“I see how you look at him y/n, and I want you to know I’m happy for you.” She smiles, taking your hand.

An invisible weight seems to be lifted off your shoulders at Hermione’s response and you squeeze her hand.

“Thank you, b-but I’m not even sure if he fancies me.” You shrug as Hermione tilts her head in confusion.

“You’re joking right y/n? Don’t you receive those sappy notes he sends to you almost every two days? He has me revise them for him y’know, it’s rather adorable.” Hermione laughs as your jaw drops.

“They’ve never signed the letters…”

Hermione’s lip pulls into a cringe, “perhaps I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No- Mione thank you!” You exclaim, wrapping both your hands around Hermione’s.

“Do you know where Ron is by any chance?”

“Clocktower courtyard, probably writing another letter right now.” Hermione states as you nod excitedly.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go.” She laughs, standing from her spot and pulling you from your seat.

You nod and pull her in for a quick hug before scampering off, essay forgotten as you dash towards the courtyard.

You enter the large stone area to find it deserted except for a redheaded boy in a red sweater with an ‘R’ at the front and you smile.

Walking the last couple meters between the two of you and sit on the stone next to him.

“Whatcha got there Ronnie?” You tease, glancing down at the parchment in his hand.

“Y/n! Oh, it’s nothing. Just some… Homework.” Ron stammers, hiding the page behind his back.

“Oh then you wouldn’t mind showing me? I do need some help.” You ask cooly, raising an eyebrow.

“O-Okay, you got me. It’s not homework.” Ron sighs, raising his arms in mock surrender.

“I thought so, but anyways, care to tell me what it is?” You question innocently, recognizing the handwriting instantly to be your mystery sender.

“L-Listen y/n, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Ron mumbles, folding the piece of parchment and carefully tucking it into his pocket.

“What is it?” You smile, taking Ron’s hand into yours and stroking the back of his palm.

“I-I’m the one who’s been sending the letters to you y/n, it was me.” Ron states as he closes his eyes and waits for your response.

“Really? I would have never guessed!” You gasp in mock surprise. Ron must’ve heard your sarcasm, because he opens his eyes in shock.

“You knew!?”

“Don’t worry Ronnie, I only found out five minutes ago.” You laugh.

“Who- It was Hermione wasn’t it?”

You nod and Ron drops his head into his hand.

“Oh Ron, there’s no trouble.” You state, pulling Ron’s freckled hands away from his face.

“But there is! I was finally going to tell you who I was in this letter and tell you that I fancy you! I-” Ron freezes, realizing what he’d said.

“So, you do fancy me?” You inquire softly.

“I-I do. I fancy you so much y/n.” Ron sighs, standing and offering his hand to you.

“What’s this all about?” You giggle taking his hand and stepping from your spot on the stone.

“Well if you can’t read my letter, the least I can do is tell you what I wrote.” Ron sighs.

“Y/n, a little over two months ago, I asked you if you thought the two of us could be together, and in turn I made things awkward between us for the first time.” Ron starts with a chuckle as you smile lightly.

“I was so embarrassed, I told you I didn’t mean it that way, even though I did.”

You nod and Ron continues.

“I realized I was doing this too quickly, we grew up together, and have been best friends for years, it was a bloody mistake on my part to believe it could’ve ended well that day.” Ron takes a deep breath as you let out a small giggle.

“So I slowed it down, tried to show you my feelings through small touches and light compliments, but it wasn’t enough. I started writing these letters for you with flowers and chocolate, I held you a little tighter for a little longer during hugs, I treated you more like someone in love.”

“Y/n L/n, I have a huge crush on you, and because I’m sure you already know who the bloke who wrote this letter is, I have to ask. Could we be, more than friends?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Ron cuts you off.

“Yours and only yours forever, Ronald Bilius Weasley,” He concludes, resting his forehead against yours.

Joyful tears prick in the corners of your eyes at Ron’s final words, and you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as you lean closer to him.

“Yes Ronnie, more than friends.” You state, closing the space between, and connecting your lips to his.

Ron’s response is immediate as he smiles into the kiss and wraps his arms around your waist.

He tilts his chin to gain a better angle as he deepens the kiss and gently pulls away, lightly catching his breath.

“Is it too early to say I’m in love?” Ron chuckles, resting his forehead against yours again.

“Well I’ve only been waiting ten years for you to say it.” You tease, pressing a butterfly kisses to Ron’s freckled cheek as he chuckles and connects his lips to yours again.

#ron weasly x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley #ron weasley x y/n

[lonely-vault-boy]

Liyue Harbor is beautiful this time of year. The breeze blowing gently through the air is peaceful compared to the hot, crowded streets of the summer markets. This night, in particular, is especially calming. Ningguang can't help but gaze at the port, currently illuminated by golden light. That's the other thing she loves about this time of year. Docked in the harbor is a grand ship with red sails.

It's been a while since this particular boat has stayed in port for longer than a day. Ningguang supposes that its captain planned this trip to the harbor intentionally, no doubt to slander Ningguang’s reputation to the surrounding merchants during the upcoming festival. Still, she can't help but smile gently. For all that Beidou likes to argue with her, she can't deny that she enjoys the other woman’s presence. Their tastes may differ, but something about the pirate draws Ningguang in every time.

On this perfect, peaceful night, however, her silent pining is interrupted by a young man dressed in yellow. A new recruit for the Mililith, no doubt. She briefly wonders what's is urgent enough that the poor man has been sent to fetch her at 3:59 on a Monday morning.

The answer is not what she expects. A strange figure has been spotted in front of the golden house.

Fuck.

Construction hasn't even been completed on the new Jade Chamber yet! Not to mention that tensions are still high from the last incident. It appears someone must deal with this. She tells the recruit to wake Ganyu and Keqing and be prepared for an attack. He nods, eyes wide. A rough night on the job for sure.

Naturally, this is how Ningguang finds herself standing before the old mora mint, dressed in a thin silk robe and slippers. The sight before her is...confusing, to say the least. The traveler, famed savior of Mondstadt and Liyue is just...sitting there. Cautiously, she approaches them, catalyst flowing with geo energy.

They look up as she appears, seemingly frustrated. Before she can ask if they've seen anything suspicious, they pull out multiple fully cooked chickens, quickly gobbling them down.

The geo-user watches in confusion as the legendary adventurer pulls a series of trinkets out of seemingly thin air. They sort through them quickly before groaning and shoving them into a bag. Immediately after, they turn towards the building and flip it off. Then, in a burst of light, they're gone.

Perhaps Ningguang should go back to bed. Maybe she had a few more drinks than she’d realized when she and Beidou had gone out the night before. Or maybe...maybe something had happened inside. After all, it was common knowledge that the traveler was seen around this area about once a week.

Sucking in a deep breath and preparing an attack, Ningguang pushes open the tall, gilded doors to find....absolutely nothing.

She blinks.

There is no sign that anyone has been here in months, not since it was repaired after the Osial incident using a mysterious donation of a few million mora from the Northland Bank.

In fact, the Fatui that had originally caused issues hasn't been seen in Liyue in ages. Surely if he or another threat had come to harm Liyue, the traveler would warn her, right?

Increasing security around the building, Ninggunag opts to go back home. With a quick apology to Keqing and Ganyu, archons bless their overworked hearts, she returns to her room. Her tea is unfortunately cold, and she has lost interest in her book, but...

On the balcony sits a glaze lily accompanied by a note. Confusing events aside, she can't help but smile as she watches a woman dressed in red walking back towards the port.

---

Ok so. I low key wanted to write a little shitpost about other people seeing the traveler go to these boss fight locations and just pretending to fight them every week (except Andrius because he's real), but then I was like, what if it's a shitpost disguised as a lil story. And then I got tired bc it's about midnight and decided to just finish it rq and post it :)

Legit not proofread or edited bc I'm tired and my eyes hurt, so peace out. ✌️

#genshin impact #ningguang #beidou #ganyu #keqing #traveler #liyue #liyueharbor #golden house

[shewhowantsmouseears]

morgwing meet-up messy drabble

My year-long-fic-break has been slightly broken, but don’t expect too much. I had enough brain juice in me to write this 3 page silliness.

Still riding the high from @queenie-draws-stuff ‘s rad Morgana redesign, I decided to write a potential “how they met” deal, combining the original Fungus Amongus quotes/situation with Queenie’s Goth Rock set-up.

Additional notes now I think of them before jumping right to what is basically “mel enjoys writing simps”

The Band uses a We Will Rock You style song (been listening to this cover) to hypnotize her fans into attacking Darkwing and the gang.

Halestorm’s cover of Bad Romance is definitely suitable for attacking and flirting with Darkwing at the same time.

At one point, Darkwing gets her guitar away from her and he’s confident “Ahaha! Now that I’ve taken away your magic, you’re helpless!” And Morgana smiles... then bursts into cackles. “Oh, Dark Darling... my guitar isn’t the source of my power. It’s merely a conduit.” (”a... a what”) “In other words...” her hands and eyes glow. “It’s time for the encore, baby.”

OKAY TIME FOR THE SHORT WRITTEN THING ITSELF

In hindsight, this wasn’t the best plan, but in his defense, it worked all the time on a TV show he’d watched as a child. Darkwing paused to think about that train of logic, and pondered if perhaps he should stop trying to plan his investigations that way and instead follow his own instincts next time.

 “OWWWWW BONES DO NOT BEND THAT WAY!”

 If there was a next time. He had assumed the whole goth rock mutant monster image was just that, an image. The guy with two heads, the girl with one eye, the behemoth of a drummer? All of it was just costumes and acting! So when announced his presence in his typical overly dramatic fashion, he assumed they would cower in fear before offering their assistance. Instead, they had jumped him and were now holding his arms behind his back and threatening to tie his limbs into knots. As he continued to squirm in place, he once more tried to plead his innocence.

 “I’m here to HELP!” He cried out, nervously noticing the two-headed terror cracking his knuckles while the one-eyed wonder was pulling out various sharp instruments from her purse, and they definitely weren’t the musical kind. “I was just looking for clues! You know those robberies that have been happening around here, right?! There’s a connection between them and your band!”

 “And now we’re about to disconnect your head from your neck!” Said the left head, and the right headed nodded vigorously.

 Darkwing winced, as the others advanced on him, the grip on his arms tightening. If this was his last day on earth, he really wished his last words to Gosalyn hadn’t been “Remember to run the dishwasher after homework.” He closed his eyes, his brain struggling to think of how to get him out of this sticky situation…

 “HEY!” A sharp - yet familiar – voice broke through the scene. “What’s going on here?! We do not treat our fans this way! Put him down!”

 It took less than a second for Darkwing to recognize the voice – this was the singer of the band, after all. When Gosalyn had showed him the link to her new favorite indie band, Darkwing had taken a compulsory listen without paying attention to the visuals, as he was busy trying to pin down the strange case of robberies where the victims couldn’t remember being robbed at all. The singer was definitely talented, a strong but sultry voice that Darkwing certainly wouldn’t have minded listening to on a loop. But it’d been also terribly distracting, so he hadn’t tried to give the music video any attention. Once again, this proved to have been not the best idea in hindsight.

 Because then he would have prepared for the absolute bombshell that walked through the curtains.

 Darkwing opened one eye to see his savior, and then both eyes were not only open, but they were also quite wide in shock. The woman in question was a leggy stunner, her black and white hair parted over one side and trailing down her eerily pale feathers like a shadowy walk lit by moonlit. Sharp green eyes pierced right through his heart, analyzing him as he stood there in a slack-jawed stupor. She adjusted her blood-red guitar over her back, the crimson and black spider-web outfit giving him the feeling he’d be the fly that eagerly walked into this parlor any day. She rested one hand on her hip, and snapped her fingers – even her nails were unique – long, sharp, yellow, and deadly.

 Darkwing had no more time to realize he had a type and she was it when he was let go and dropped to the floor. As he scrambled to get up and dust himself off, the one-eyed woman huffed. “We caught this weirdo sneaking around here, Morgana.”

 Morgana held up a hand, signaling for silence. “I got this, Cornea.” She looked Darkwing up and down once more before smiling in amusement. “I believe this is where you introduce yourself.” She offered her hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, mister…?”

 “D-Dingwing Dork.”  Darkwing sputtered, his palm feeling incredibly sweaty in her delicate hand. He was quick to realize his mistake, yelped, and fumbled with his hands and hat as he tried to make his brain calm down. “DARK! Darkwing Duck! Dark-Darkwing Duck.” After a hard throat clear, he tried to pretend he hadn’t made an absolute fool of himself several times, tipping his hat politely, doing a gentlemanly bow, and ignoring the various eyerolls of the other band-mates. “At your service.”

 “What an unusual name,” Morgana commented, lightly tilting his beak up with one of her fingers, closing the gap between them for a few but very, very personal seconds. “But then you appear to be very unusual… I like that.” When she pulled away, it was a sheer miracle Darkwing didn’t fall forward, though he certainly leaned in enough to make it a close call. “We were just wrapping up rehearsal. We want to close up shop early, what with all those midnight robberies going on.”

 Darkwing stopped for a second, befuddled. “Hang on. How did you know they were midnight robberies?” He was fairly certain that was something the press hadn’t leaked, and he’d only just figured out the timeline a day before.

 Morgana froze in place – eyes quickly shooting to her fellow players – before rolling her shoulders, readjusting her guitar so that it slid back into her arms. “I… deduced it.”

 Maybe if Launchpad and Gosalyn were there – the former to ask more questions, the latter to smack some sense into him – Darkwing would have taken greater notice of that lengthy pause. Instead? She deduced it, he thought, his heart doing cartwheels. My kinda woman. Despite his clear problematic infatuation, his brain did have enough cells left to ask another important question. “Isn’t it kind of… peculiar… to hold a rehearsal this late?”

 Morgana plucked a few notes off her guitar, walking back onto the front of the stage, the curtains now perfectly parted to show the moon shining down from the ceiling – the venue, such as it was, had certainly seen better days. But now the various holes above seemed to be an improvement rather than something that needed fixing. “I enjoy the night,” she answered, and then playfully added, “Besides, the sun is so harsh on my skin.”

 “You know…” Darkwing casually strolled up to Morgana’s side, his previous predicament forgotten already, “I’m something of a creature of the night myself.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

 Morgana chuckled quietly. “I bet we have a lot in common, Darkwing. In fact…” She lightly nudged the guitar’s neck into Darkwing’s actual neck, enjoying the audible tiny ‘eep’ his flustered mouth made. “I bet we could make beautiful music together.”

#morgana mccawber #darkwing duck #morgwing #i'm sorry for bothering you queenie #but its your own fault for making such a rad morgana #and yes I have the fungus quotes memorized #i have watched that episode TOO MANY TIMES

[raichijin]

⋆͛♡⋆͛ the hangover; mirio edition.  ❥ a one-shot.

━━━━━ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. (tba)

preface; writing this was honestly so painful. a testatment to why i should never 1.) do collabs ever 2.) write long things. i am drained.

word count; 5k words.

starring; mirio, mina, shinsou, denki, unnamed boyfriend.

summary; after your boyfriend forgets about your anniversary, you spend some time with friends to forgive and forget about what happened. then it gets worse.

warnings; reader gets called some nasty names towards the end of the fic. watch out for that.

you were supposed to be spending this weekend with your boyfriend. at a resort, poolside, on vacation, or on a beach, or where ever he’d fancy peeling off the nice (read: expensive) swimsuit he’d gotten you for your five year anniversary.

he was kind, is kind, but not as committed to your relationship as he was to his job. not even a call as the clock struck midnight, almost an hour past your reservation, but a text the morning after with a short apology, and the sudden announcement that he’d be working late. again. you didn’t cry. wouldn’t, because shedding tears would cause a mess and a headache, and self-doubt is what’s tucking you in at night, telling you that maybe for tonight, tomorrow and the day after your feelings don’t matter.

cause his job is the one keeping you afloat. (your interest in the arts is cute, to him; like a hobby. nothing you could stay afloat with. it’s too risky, he insists, so to you, it became nothing. to others? it became offhand remarks at his high-end office parties. a joke to your in-laws. a breathed sigh of relief from your parents.) so more time is what’s best for the both of you.

that has to be it.

your friends figure out something might be wrong when you go ghost for days, bordering on a week.

you mention how it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re by yourself as you are, but they don’t buy it. say you need to loosen up, take a vacation of your own even when you say you don’t need it because you’re not working, give you sharp glares whenever you object. you don’t know why you thought you had a choice in the matter — especially when mina’s sugar mommy gives her enough money to afford 2 full suites at one of the most expensive hotels in the area.

denki also tags along, just cause, and brings his boyfriend; shinsou, with him.

if they know what’s going on, they never mention it. 

and it’s a little easier to cope that way.

you dip your toes, ease yourself into the night, before you’re being pulled into the deep end and your mind’s been left at the door, but your body is having a field day.

you should’ve blacked out two margaritas ago.

you think you did.

you’re too drunk to recall all of the rash decisions you made, or whether or not you maxed your credit card, but you’ve must’ve gotten separated from your friends somewhere along the way, because when you wake up, you are distinctly not in your bed, not in a tastefully decorated room, not in a hotel.

and mina, shinsou, denki? unless they’re in the adjacent room, they’re not here with you either. you’re still in your clothes from last night. your shirt is missing a button and you don’t have your shoes on, but beyond that, you’re perfectly fine.

a scraggly bed head lies next to you, who is, notably, more nude than you are.

he has no shirt. no shoes. no pants. his blonde hair is unruly and you’re so shocked you actually start to wake up. your eyes widen and you’re sitting up so fast you’re a bit dizzy from the sudden motion.

the room is spinning and you feel sick, the headache behind your eyes making you want to grind your molars into dust. and just as quickly as you sat up, you lay back down; shaking the bed with the force. the guy next to you isn’t as heavy of a sleeper as you hoped, though. he blinks open tired eyes, showing you the most exquisite navy blue, and the little bit of drool dripping down his chin might’ve been cute if he wasn’t a complete stranger.

though you can’t stave off the creeping anxiety, the silence as he comes to his senses doesn’t feel wrong, and you’re more confused than scared.

he rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, and gives you a criminally bright smile, and though his voice is wrecked when he says “...g’morning, sunshine.”, you doubt yours sounds much better. 

the nickname makes you feel fuzzy, if only for a second.

“i, uh … good morning?” you sound awkward, but the guy manages to find humor in your predicament when he chuckles gently, sitting up without so much as a second thought. you can see more of his body when he does so, and when his hand comes up to ruffle his hair, you can catch the glint of a silver band, resting on his ring finger. 

then everything clicks into place.

did you cheat? was he cheating?

all of the things you’d been beating yourself up over settle thick over top like smoke clouds and a raging fire. you feel like you’re suffocating, and don’t realize you’re freaking out until a strong hand is wrapping around yours, which, in your panic, you squeeze.

you spot a matching ring on your hand, that you know for a fact wasn’t there before,

and you think that’s when you pass out.

you wake up (again) to a room with tacky but charming decor, the smell of breakfast, and considerably less of a headache than what you started with. now more lucid, with the strength in your body to walk and think, your first priority is finding your phone. you tap your pockets, check the bedside drawer and tables, under your pillow, in the cracks of the bed, under the bed.

no cigar. you’re digging through miscellaneous memorabilia, trinkets and clothes that aren’t yours for at least a minute before the guy you were laid up in bed with comes back to just to see you picking through the corners of his bedroom, banana in hand.

he stands in the doorway and clears his throat. he has clothes on this time, pants. “you’re awake? are you feeling any better?”

you startle, straighten your back and stand upright, your arms falling to your sides. “um, kind of. i — have you seen my phone?”

he shakes his head, offers you the banana. “you should have this though! it’ll fix that hangover, i think.”

“i … thanks.” standing and eating a banana in someone else’s bedroom is certainly … a time.

“i made some breakfast,” he says when you’re halfway finished, “if you want some.” he ends with a smile, and you feel those 3 shots of serotonin go straight to your brain.

granted, you shouldn’t be that happy.

he takes the lead and turns around, leading you down a narrow hallway into a quaint kitchenette with a lovely beach view and all the good summer vibes condensed into a single, small room. it makes your heart hurt even more when you realize you have someone home, someone expecting you to come back.

to a hollow apartment, a cold bed, a lukewarm welcome.

you have to force your brain to be quiet to even hear a fraction of what blondie is saying.

“alcohol basically just dehydrates you. the potassium stops that, gets you all your minerals and stuff back. i heard it works with beer, so i was thinking it works for other stuff too!” he sounds so chipper that it brings your mood up just to hear his voice.

so bold and sure, warm and kind.

“but if it doesn’t clear up in 30 minutes, i have some advil i can give you! don’t want you having a headache all day now.” he’s sitting you down at his small table and sliding some pancakes in front of you, some orange juice. eating feels like a chore, but you know you have to, or that you should try at least.

while you push around your food, blondie chatters away, and even if you just met, he has you entranced by the way he speaks. smooth like the butter on his toast as his stories flow effortlessly into one another, how easily he can chat you up is amazing; getting you from gentle chuckles to full blown belly laughter before you can get your first bite in.

there’s lulls in the conversation if you count the moments he takes to actually eat, but he keeps you on your toes with his personal anecdotes, and questions about yourself, forcing you out of your shell, little by little.

the thought of your boyfriend pushed back into the depths of your mind.

until you broach the topic of your friends.

you learn quickly that he’s a good listener, completely silent unless prompted, asking questions or making jokes only when you’re finished speaking. when he asks, you tell him about the ones that got you here, shinsou, denki and mina.

his eyes flash momentarily, a look of recognition, or maybe understanding, passing over him. he hums gently, head swaying as he does so.

“they’re a little rough around the edges but they’re like family, you know?”

“i get what you mean. they were very nice when i met them. especially at our wedding!” he sips his coffee.

“i — are you alright? you’re choking!” that you are. the guilt you felt when you first woke up and the rising panic ram into your gut like a freight train, and suddenly, you don’t want to eat anymore.

"what do you mean we're married?" you rub small circles into your forehead as this idyllic morning goes right back to being cruel hell. 

"yesterday, at the chapel," he twists his wedding ring with warm familiarity that makes your stomach churn. "i can't really believe it myself, like maybe we were meant to be? i know the universe works in strange ways like that."

you're sorry to burst his bubble, but you save the happily ever afters for fairy tales, not real life.

you pinch your forehead and heave an exasperated sigh.

"i have a boyfriend." you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to seek lost comfort. "and we don't know each other to begin with. can't even remember your name, i was so drunk."

you cradle your face in your palms, feel his stare bore into the top of your head.

"togata." you perk up.

“what?”

“my name. it’s togata. mirio togata.” 

“oh.” you rub your cheeks, pull them back with the heels of your palms.

“that’s a nice name.” an uncomfortable silence washes over you both before someone speaks up. mirio.

“so what do you want to do?”

you answer a little bit too fast in response. “i don’t know. i … i should call my friends. i still need to find my phone—” you stand up, ignore the onslaught of nausea, and look around the kitchen.

“help me look? and then … and then we can figure out all the other details later.” mirio carries both your plates to the sink, and busies himself with dishes for a brief moment, allowing you to find the bathroom nook and reorient yourself. you fix yourself up a bit, straighten out your shirt and fix your hair up. no time to take a shower.

you cup a hand in front of your mouth, breathe and sniff. eugh. 

“hey, uh, togata; got an extra toothbrush?” his heart might’ve lept when you called him by his given name.

“um! yeah!” rushing water obscures his voice a bit, but if he shouts he’s loud enough to hear. “check under the sink? i should have some there.”

“thanks.”

you rummage around in his cabinets, and in that time he’s managed to clean up the leftover food and put a shirt on. 

your phone having gotten lost or being stolen becomes more of a possibility the longer you think about it. you doubt you came back to his house to do anything but sleep. how many places could you have dropped it? you come out of the bathroom to mirio sitting back at the kitchenette table, holding his phone in his hand.

“hey togata … do you think you can call me?”

“i mean, sure, but i don’t know if i have your number...”

your anxiety makes you a bit snippy even when you don’t mean to be rude, but you can apologize when you get your phone back.  ”just give it to me then. i’ll do it.”

it rings a few times before someone picks up, which is a step up from going to voicemail, and the situation goes from okay to great when the croaky voice of shinsou answers, worn out and tired, but awake enough to make a greeting.

he says you’re not here to pick up the phone right now, you interrupt and say that this is you, and that you just borrowed togata’s phone to figure out where yours was.

“togata? who?” 

“my, my um. husband.” gingerly said, you can see mirio tense up in the corner of your eye.

“oh,” someone’s snickering away from the mic. denki probably. you can’t help but roll your eyes. “mirio?” you’re upset that he can remember his name but you couldn’t. “how is he?” you shoot mirio a look, he gives you a thumbs up.

“good. so, uh, where are you guys?”

two hours away. they’re two hours away by car and mirio’s pickup truck is exactly what you’d expect from him. it’s big, beat up, it’s blue, and it’s his pride and joy, even if it’s slow to start up. if anything, it feels a bit humbling to hear the low hum of the buzzing engine. brings you back down to reality, out of the lap of luxury.

reminds you of the way mirio laughs with his whole chest. that gentle, rumbling purr.

you’re sinking into the crunchy leather seat with a groan, then a laugh from togata; to which you swat at him. you give him the address so he can set it up with his gps, and get going. he messes it up a bit and then it’s your turn to laugh, much to his displeasure. he blushes from the embarrassment, and you pat his shoulder, still chuckling. it feels natural. waking up together. having breakfast together. unofficial road trip to meet back up with your friends because you got blackout drunk and are 100 miles away.

oh, right. you sigh softly and mirio looks over, thinking to comfort you by turning on the radio, greeted by soft pop and slow guitars.

the silence carries.

fifteen minutes into the drive, he thinks to ask about your boyfriend.

“what’s he like?” togata drums his fingers on the wheel with an air of anxiety almost, though you can’t imagine why he would be — unless he thinks you won’t react well to his question. you don’t mind however, and sate his curiosity without as much as a glance.

“oh, he’s nice,” your statement lacks the enthusiasm you’d expect when someone talks about their significant other. it seems sincere, yet exhausted.

“buys me whatever i want, when i want it, loves his job to death, and … we were supposed to be celebrating our anniversary this week.” dejection is visible in the way you slouch your shoulders, interest waning. mirio can’t help but exercise a little concern, filling in the gaps while he’s at it..

“and you couldn’t, because you came here?” you shake your head.

“what? no. i came here because he was too busy, and my friends thought i could still have some fun on my own. his job is important to him.”

“and your relationship isn’t?” your eyes narrow, glaring at him from the passenger's seat.

“the fuck’s that supposed to mean mirio?” 

“well, an anniversary is supposed to be more important than some job— don’t you think he should just take a day off? it wouldn’t hurt.” you lean against the car door, shoulder propping your head up as you peer out the window.

“i mean, i guess. but he’s keeping us afloat, so i can’t really complain.” togata’s eyebrows shoot up.

his tone is incredulous. “what, you don’t work?”

seeing you cringe away out of the corner of his eye is what makes him back track almost immediately.

“i’m so sorry! i’m — wow, that was completely out of line,” your embarrassment lessens when he apologizes, and you inhale sharply. 

“don’t worry. it’s, it’s fine.” you can’t help the way your fingers dig into the flesh of your arm, gnawing the inside of your cheeks, afraid of getting laughed at. mirio wouldn’t laugh at you, would he? 

“i, i used to make music. i was in a band in highschool, actually.” though mirio’s forced to keep his eyes on the road lest you two crash, you can see the way his smile reaches his ears, the silent ‘wow’ of awe making your cheeks heat up. high brow company doesn’t have much use for your talents unless it’s the violin, or something else that fits their lame-ass agenda. your bass chills in the back of your closet, a relic of the past, but a neat decoration.

you shake your head, too caught up in your own train of thought that you didn’t realize togata was speaking.

“i’m sorry, what’d you say?”

“oh! i was just curious, i asked if you sing?” you snort, then full on laugh, though mirio doesn’t seem to get the joke.

“oh, hell no. i don’t have the voice for it, nor the patience to do vocal training. i just played bass! thought it was easier than guitar because it only had 4 strings. i was wrong. maybe i could … show you sometime? i mean, it’s been a while, but i think i remember a few songs: have you heard of seven nation army?”

you talk with mirio about music at length, and learn that he’s a pretty big enthusiast himself and while he’s never played an instrument, he’s been interested in learning guitar. he brings up your band, and the memories of your senior year come flooding back; mina and denki convincing you to audition, your stage fright, recruitment later in spite of it. 

mirio can see the stars in your eyes when you speak, speaking so animatedly with clear adoration at the topic at hand, and he starts getting a creeping suspicion that back where you’re from, you don’t get to talk about this as nearly as much as you like. he realizes in the same breath that he doesn’t mind indulging you. he participates enough so you don’t feel like you’re chatting his ear off, but quiet enough to hear you fill in the empty space.

the way your hands move as you tell stories is adorable and so is your enthusiasm, he could hear you ramble for hours and never get bored. and he nearly does, it’s been an hour and you’re still talking — but then you take a breath, and apologize for no good reason.

he squints at you, confused.

“what’re you apologizing for?”

“i’ve been talking waaaaay too much. i’ve barely heard a word out of you for the last thirty minutes!”

“i thought you were having fun! i know i liked listening. besides, it looks like that you don’t get to talk enough about the stuff you enjoy. i’m willing to listen, so talk all you want!” the assumption makes you furrow your brow, and you hate that you feel like he’s right. 

your boyfriend either talks about his job, your friends, his parents, or nothing at all. no interest in music. no time for it. your friends enjoy reminiscing on occasion, but you don’t speak enough to them to get all nostalgic.

it’s … nice that he takes your feelings into consideration. you smile to yourself, saying nothing in response.

“we’re getting closer to the hotel — it’s 30 minutes away now.” it gets quiet again, before all the sounds you hear are the other cards and the slow hum of low volume music you’d forgotten about, coming from the radio. you turn towards the window to take in the scenery while mirio catches glimpses of you in his periphery, surprised at how adorable you look, doing even the most mundane of things.

mirio couldn’t remember much from the night before, well, can’t remember anything that wasn’t you. you weren’t completely out of it when you met him, but he could’ve misjudged, considering he wasn’t quite in his right mind either. didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made you so bold, but everything about you was so charming. 

from something as simple as your smile to how easily you chatted him up, despite his tendency to be a tad overbearing, you would take him and his attitude in stride. running around town, dipping in and out of nightclubs with your friends close behind, getting kicked out of said clubs, dancing and laughing together in another—

he huffs, pouting to himself. your boyfriend was so damn lucky.

he steps on the gas and starts going a little faster. you don’t seem to mind.

the rest of the trip was silence, and it wasn’t until he parked and stepped out of the car and said something.

“wow.” he whistles, low and long, until you pinch his arm to stop from attract the stares of passerby. “you guys could afford this? gosh. that’s like, three of my paychecks, maybe.” you chortled as he helped you out, quick to clear up any confusion.

“not me,” you walked in the lobby with him, going straight to the elevators after checking in with the front desk. “i could barely afford it! mina’s … uhm, girlfriend, paid for a room for all of us.” he arches a brow at the emphasis on girlfriend, but if he has any objections, he holds his peace.

“mmh. wonder what it’s like to be rich.” 

you laugh as you’re carried up a few floors, specifically to the more expensive suites, at least 12 floors up. “me too dude! mina is lucky.”

you’re barely knocking on the room door before denki is throwing it open and screeching, ushering you both in. they remember mirio from last night, which is upsetting, considering they don’t remember anything else: not how you got to mirio’s house, not how they got back home. not how they found your phone in the bathroom either, apparently.

“speaking of bathrooms, i’m gonna take a shower. keep mirio company, i guess." 

you have to look through your luggage for a change of clothes, and find your phone on your bed in your room, charging and you don’t think about going through it until after you’re clean.

coming back to nearly forty notifications from your boyfriend wasn’t on the agenda, and quite frankly, might’ve been a sign. some were calls but most were all lower case texts, each more foreboding than the last. holding your towel up with one hand, you scroll through your messages with the other.

 what the fuck is wrong with you?

 who the hell is this guy?

beneath it, a video of you and togata. your pupils dilate, and a deeply rooted sense of dread clutches your heart. it looks like a screen recording off of denki’s instagram account, of you two dancing. not overtly scandalous, but too close for comfort.

have you been cheating on me? 

for how long

how desperate are you? i say i have a business trip and you take it as an excuse to slut it up somewhere else?

you’re fucking pathetic.

heart slowly sinking, threatening to beat out of your chest, you can’t find it in you to scroll through the rest. you barely have pants on before you’re calling him up, frenzied and feeling out of breath. the phone barely rings twice before you’re going to voicemail and hearing the beeping tone. 

fuck. fuck fuck fuck.

you hang up, and try again.

this time, he picks up on the first dial tone.

“baby?” you nearly yell into the microphone, while the other end remains silent.

“what is it.” his voice is hollow, not even asking a question; rather making a statement. you choke on your words, are quiet for a few seconds at most before he’s barking at you. “i don’t have all day. i’m busy.”

“t-that video. it wasn’t, it wasn’t anything—” something slams in the background that makes you flinch, and he takes it as a good opportunity to cut you off.

“so the wedding wasn’t shit either? the way he was holding you, looking at you like that, like some lovesick fucking puppy?”

“w-what? what’re you talking about honey? it’s nothing like that—”

“don’t get fucking cute with me. i’ve seen the photos. that girl mina doesn’t know how to not publicize your life.” you feel like dying. 

“i knew i should’ve never settled for you.”

“you don’t mean that—”

“shut the fuck up.” there’s more shuffling on his end, a deep sigh. you’re too shaken to speak. “i wasted so much on you. gave you a house, a home, just for you to repay the favor by being a two-bit whore, sit on your ass all day and complain, and waste my time with those stupid fucking hobbies of yours.” what’s more terrifying is that his voice doesn’t wane or waver. he means it.

“... honey, please. please just let me explain!” you hadn’t even noticed the tears until you’re wiping them off your cheeks, your sniffling getting louder until you’re full on sobbing.

“there’s nothing left to explain. get your shit out by tuesday. we’re done.”

the line goes dead after that.

you don’t realize how much time has passed since you went to go shower initially, only that it’s been a while, considering how urgently mina starts knocking on the door.

“baby, are you alright? you’ve been in there for half an hour!” you can’t find it in you to respond. all it results in is choking on your own words, coughing and sobbing and tears and this fucking headache.

you don’t want to be seen.

mina announces that she’s coming in, and conversation behind the door quiets down until you can’t hear it anymore. just your own thoughts. she opens it and finds you in the corner, your knees to your chest while you’re just barely dressed, hair soaking wet. crying feebly until she rushes over and asks what happened.

you show her your phone. the texts.

she wraps her arm around your back and helps you up. hands you a towel so you can finish drying yourself off, and picks out some clothes for you to wear. when she turns around, she’s greeted by the concerned faces of your friends. mirio.

her face morphs from a look of concern to pure rage.

“what the fuck!?” she all but snatches your phone away from you, to which you pull your hands back and cradle you legs again. “who the fuck does this asshole think he is?” she looks down at you just then, and sees the red in your eyes, the tear tracks that stain your cheeks and a few drops dripping off your chin. you need your help more than you need her rage and half hearted insults. 

“you yelled.” shinsou states plainly. “is everything alright?” mina approaches them and ushers everyone out, closing the door, presumably to give you some privacy.

you dress slowly, the few minutes feeling like an eternity before you’re reaching for the door handle, clean and feeling like shit, for different reasons other than a hangover.

when you emerge from your room, mirio gives you a hug.

a hug that you melt into. one that you weren’t expecting but squeeze him back just as hard, tears that didn’t quite make it out seeping into the spot where you press into his shirt. his arms are comforting and strong, rubbing and patting your back gently, until the room is silent beyond your heartbeat and your sniffles, your friends milling about in the background.

“he said i have to move out.” your fingers dig into togata’s shirt. “pack up all my stuff and leave but i don’t know where i’m supposed to go—”

there’s a smaller hand patting your back when mina speaks up.

“d-don’t worry.” you can feel her hugging you too, a special warmth blooming in your chest. 

“we’ll figure something out.”

while you’re leaving the hotel, mina makes a call to her girlfriend camie to explain the situation, and by the time you’re back in mirio’s pick up, she said that camie offered to rent you an apartment in her name. the earliest she can get it was by monday, so she offered to let you spend the night for a couple days as well. denki says that he and shinsou could help you with things around the house: shopping, redecorating, etc.

togata is the one who offers to help you get your stuff. you arrange the date for monday, actually exchange phone numbers, and meet up at 8.

it makes sense; his car has enough space in the back, you don’t have much of your own stuff, but you nearly regret accepting the offer in the first place. something about moving out with your … husband in tow doesn’t sit well with you. almost seems like it’s too soon. 

but mirio’s charming enough to make the whole ordeal seem less like a fever dream. you’re beaming at him by the time you’re all done, laughing and smiling and so infectiously happy. by the time you both wind down you’re out of breath, wheezing in the front seats of the car.

he smiles fondly at you.

you can feel your cheeks heat as you return the sentiment.

then both of you are back on the road. the musics louder this time, and you get to show him how shitty you sing; which he insists isn’t so bad after all. it’s after twenty minutes of this that you’re suddenly struck by the irony of it all. 

“i can’t believe our first date with you was me moving out of my exes apartment.” mirio chokes on his spit, cheeks bleeding red as he does a double take, eyes flitting from the road, back to you, back to the road.

“wait.”

“that was our date?”

𝔱 𝔞 𝔤 𝔩 𝔦 𝔰 𝔱 ;  @mitsusuri​ @okayshin​ @tamasoft

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