#sweet and gentle and reminding of the romance i’ve never had

[1d1195]

Zipper Extra VI

Read the rest of Zipper here

@jhughesangel for you :)

Some cavity inducing sweetness (hopefully)

P.S. Sorry I'm writing about the holiday season. Again. I'm sure that's tiring but fall/winter is my favorite time of year and it makes for the most romance in my brain.

~2.2k words

The moment she opened her eyes she was greeted with Harry’s gorgeous green eyes gazing at her. “God you’re pretty,” he murmured, and she felt a bit dizzy hearing it from his lips—Harry was pretty, too.

On the first of the month, she began baking. Harry had seen her in action at her place, but now it was their place and coming home some nights after she did to an apartment that smelled like cookies, cinnamon, and apples. It was heavenly and more than ever he wished with everything in him that he hadn’t waited so long to have this moment.

Every space of the apartment was decorated with red berries and greenery and other Christmas décor. The tree stood in the window of the living room overlooking the town. It was beautiful and magical. Harry didn’t even have a tree, the last few years which pained her to no end. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he didn’t have one prior to them dating either. The only Christmas tree he saw was the one at his mum’s house. Or at her place.

But they were living together, now. So, every holiday was warm and inviting. It felt like home when he was there. She made it make sense. “S’not our anniversary, right?” He asked, coming to stand behind her. His hands pressed onto the counter on either side of her as he pressed his lips to the curve of her neck as a gentle hello. The rest of his body was warm against her back, his body encasing her between the bowl of chocolate and Harry.

Turning her head as much as she could to get a peripheral look at him, she licked the excess frosting off her thumb, she shook her head. “No, baby. Wrong month,” she giggled.

Harry wrinkled his nose “M’sorry,” he murmured. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted.

“It’s okay. I’ve never really been one for anniversaries,” she shrugged. Yet she always has a present for me. He thought to himself with a frown. “I mean...” she noted the way his body deflated with a sigh. “I think I love you pretty well every day...I think there are worse things in life than forgetting a card or a day where you finally came to your senses,” she twisted in his embrace, and she brought the tip of her finger to his lips so he could have a tasted of the frosting. It was silly and romantic all at once. He gave her finger a gentle bite inciting the most beautiful, little giggle from her. “Does that make sense?” She asked.

“So I should be giving y’a gift every day because m’in love with you all the time,” he nodded with a half grin.

“No,” she laughed and rested her forehead on his chest. “No way. Your gifts? We’d be broke.”

“It would be worth it,” he murmured. “I’d spend every penny I had on you.”

“Absolutely not what I want.”

He chuckled rubbing his hand up and down her spine. “Did you have a good day?”

She nodded. “I won my case,” she murmured into his chest.

“Y’don’t sound very excited over the good news, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head.

“It didn’t feel like winning,” she mumbled. “Sometimes fighting for the top dog doesn’t feel very good.”

Her poor sweet soul. “S’never made any sense t’me that someone as sweet as you would be a corporate lawyer.”

“M’good at it,” she said defensively and pouted as she looked up at him.

“I know you’re good at it, angel,” he nodded. “S’not a question. But morally, your heart is jus’ so much nicer,” he kissed the top of her head. “M’surprised y’don’t cry in court sometimes.”

“S’really hard sometimes,” she admitted.

“Y’don’t have t’be a corporate lawyer if y’don’t want.”

“Yeah...but then I wouldn’t have an office next to yours. We wouldn’t have lunch together..." Harry felt a pang of adoration shoot through him. Like she had personally squeezed the veins of his heart just as a reminder that he adored her so much. "And you’d make way more money than me and I wouldn’t be able to afford living here.”

“Y’could live here for free,” he rolled his eyes--as if money would keep him from her. “Jus’ make y’pay me in kisses...and other things.”

She tilted her head up to look at his face while he gazed down at her. “I love you,” she smiled.

He grinned and shook his head. “Thank goodness,” he murmured and attached his lips to hers. They tasted of chocolate, love, sweetness, and happiness. Perfectly her.

*

She didn’t like having a blindfold on—especially in public and without a clue of where they were headed. It was chilly but her coat was warm, and Harry had his arm firmly around her waist. One thing she trusted was that Harry would never let her fall. “I am already surprised Harry. Please let me take it off. I must look insane, and people are probably thinking you’re going to kidnap me.”

“I would love t’see someone try and kidnap you,” he chuckled. “Watch y’step, kitten,” he hummed and squeezed her tighter as he brought her up two steps. She had no sense of where they were—not by sight of course—but he had taken her around three different blocks in order to disorient her. The smells didn’t help either because it was a Saturday night. It was Christmas time, and everywhere in the little city smelled and sounded the same. “Think y’would argue with them about how they didn’t tie the blindfold tight enough.”

“The same cannot be said for you,” she wrinkled her nose trying to get the fabric to move around her face. “Is it weird? You’re not going to embarrass me are you?” She asked.

“What on earth d’you think m’going t’do, kitten?” He laughed. “We’re almost there, just a few more steps.”

“I don’t know. Maybe me accidentally taking your towel every morning has finally done you in and you’re going to murder me and hide my body.”

“Kitten, we’re around other people. Please don’t give them ideas.”

“I don’t think you would murder me. But statistically, you’re the one most likely to.”

“M’ignoring you,” he murmured. The people around them gave sympathetic and awkward smiles. “Okay, two steps,” he pressed his hand on her lower back. The back of her calf touched something solid but she hadn’t a clue where she was. It could have been anywhere. But they were still outside. Maybe it was just a bench? Or a wall by the fountain? She had no way of knowing.

“Am I going to be in a blindfold the entire night?”

“No, m’love. M’gonna take it off as soon as y’sit,” he said gently touching her hips to guide her to sitting on the seat behind her. She was quiet as Harry reached behind her head, the palms of his hands sliding softly against her cheeks as he reached. Before he undid the knot, he gently massaged his fingertips into her hair and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. It made her stomach flutter and she felt like she would explode from the way he made her feel.

The moment she opened her eyes she was greeted with Harry’s gorgeous green eyes gazing at her. “God you’re pretty,” he murmured, and she felt a bit dizzy hearing it from his lips—Harry was pretty, too. It took every bit of willpower to tear her eyes away from his gaze. His hand slid into her lap, and he twisted their fingers together while she took in the surroundings. There was a man directing a horse on a perched seat above them an older top hat on his head. The carriage they sat in was white, with red leather seats. Green garland with red berries and Christmas bows draped around them. A set of twinkly lights was hung around the little awning of the carriage as well. Her lips parted as the horse quietly pulled them around the park. There was a dusting of snow, Harry couldn’t have dreamed of a better day to do this. But it was perfect, exactly what he wanted.

Speechless. She was completely and totally speechless.

Harry watched her expression change about a thousand times in one minute trying to make sense of what was happening. “Y’okay, in there?” He asked cupping the side of her face and brushing his thumb on her cheek. “S’this...not what you wanted?” He asked feeling the nerves creep up.

Did she forget their anniversary? No... it wasn’t that. Did he do something wrong? Why was...how did he know?

Maybe this was just something she wanted to do with her ex-boyfriend and not Harry. Maybe this wasn’t something she wanted anymore. “Er...we can...stop, if y’want, kitten. I thought y’would want this...but...maybe I got it wrong, naturally. Thought y’would want to—”

She shook her head trying to shake some sense into her mind and get her brain cells to put together a coherent thought rather than just staring at the scene before her. “No...” she shook her head quickly. “No...this is...Harry this is perfect,” she whispered breathlessly.

He smiled and a relieved sigh left his lungs in the form of a nervous chuckle. “Oh...good,” he pressed his lips against her temple and watched her eyes scanning the park around her. They had been to the park about a thousand times on foot, but seated in a horse drawn carriage, it was as if she had never seen the trees and paths. The light displays and the children milling in front of their parents were completely new to her.

“How...how did you...did you ask my sister about this?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No...”

“Did I tell you about this?” But she was certain she didn’t. She hadn’t thought about a carriage ride in years.

“Uh...no,” he smiled awkwardly giving her hand a squeeze. “When we were studying one time...y’were all upset ‘bout your ex not planning dates or whatever. You were on the phone with your sister and y’said y’wanted a Christmas carriage ride.”

Her heart felt like it was melting. “You...heard that?” She sounded so stunned. Harry was a bit worried about her well-being. She seemed completely out of sorts. To him, this was the only thing that made sense. In fact, he should have planned this when they first started dating. In his mind, this was nearly three years too late. Lord, knew it was over a decade too late for her sweet self. “You...remember that?”

He smiled, squeezing her hand in her lap again. With his freehand he brought it to her face again and brushed his thumb across her face. “I know...I know y’have forgiven me for...how mean I was—”

“You weren’t mean.”

“Well, I wasn’t nice t’you, kitten. S’well as being mean. Y’deserve nothing but kindness. You’re the sweetest soul I know.” She wanted to respond but she felt like there was more he wanted to say, and her throat was closing around the warm emotion she felt the longer he spoke. “M’sorry, again. For all that I put you through.”

It wasn’t that bad. She couldn’t tell him enough. She knew it ate at him like nothing else, so she simply nodded. “I know you’re sorry. But really...it’s alright, baby. I know—”

“Shh,” he hushed pressing a finger to her lips. “M’not done.” She felt like the blindfold was placed around her lips at his words. It was so perfect. The right temperature, the right scene, the perfect guy.

“Okay,” she murmured.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever fully forgive myself,” he admitted. “But m’so glad I figured out how I felt. M’so sorry it took me s’long. More than being mean t’you...I don’t know if I’ll forgive myself for taking s’long. Wasting all that time we could have been together. But I don’t want t’waste time ever again,” he promised.

He kept hold of her hand as he shifted from the seat to the floor of the carriage balancing on one knee and digging into his coat pocket as if he did this all the time. He pinched the small box in his grip with his free hand. She couldn’t even see inside the box, but she knew that her heart was going to explode when she did. So, it was for the best that she didn’t get to see it. “Y’make me so happy. You’re m’favorite person t’wake up to. T’come home to. Before you, I never even thought ‘bout marriage. It only makes sense when I think ‘bout you,” he was rushing his words a bit. Like when he first told her how much he liked her and how he would be a shitty boyfriend.

He was anything but.

“I don’t know if I’ll get better at remembering anniversaries and birthdays but God, kitten. I want t’try with you. Because y’deserve the best and m’not sure if s’me that’s best for you but I want to be. I want t’take you on carriage rides and make sugar cookies with our little babies that will look jus’ like you and take them t’soccer practice on weekends. I know s’not anyone half s’beautiful as you, kitten. Inside or out,” he never made sense when he was spilling all the emotions directly from his heart, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She thought she might cry if he spoke any longer.

“Please, marry me,” he said finally, slowly at last.

They stared at each other silently for several moments.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Thank you.”

--

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@sunshinextemptress94

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#harry #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles sad #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #lawyer!harry styles #coworker!harry styles #college!harry styles #zipper

[minimallyminnie]

Moonlight Sunrise

Summary: Vincent tells you how much he loves you and how he wants to stay with you.

Tags: Vincent/Gn Reader, mentions of others, hurt/comfort, mentions of bad parenting (Vincent), proposal, fluff, gender neutral reader!, spoilers for Vincent’s route, you traveled back with Vincent back to the mansion after that incident bc I can’t cope with Vin leaving Theo and William sniff sniff…., based off of Twice’s Moonlight Sunrise!!!

Just in case you’d wanna read it @azulashengrottospiano! Thank you for introducing the most greenest and sweetest person I’ve seen in romance games to me. I love my sunflower to bits <3

“I don’t quite understand this feeling yet.”

Vincent doesn’t know why this emotion makes his heart feel warm.

It doesn’t feel like it’s choking him but it’s similar to a warm embrace from his brother.

You gave him this feeling…But yet just like always when he’s with you

Everything he knows just disappears from his head.

“It’s overwhelming but yet if I let go of them, I feel cold. Empty again.”

He let go of you once. Pushed you into your own world.

And to that, Vincent brought you into his arms instead. Close and tight.

This emotion, his raw and unbridled love for you is so powerful and strange to him, but he would rather take it all in pride rather than let you go for a single moment.

Gods. How long has it been since he’s felt this much love from someone besides Theo?

“Their smile, their eyes, their lips, their hands, everything about them feels so…wonderful.”

Ever so gentle, he loves kissing you. It’s addictive and sweet.

With gentle strokes of his brush, he paints your eyes. The most delicate of touches as he tries and fails to portray how dazzling and comforting your eyes are to him. It could never match the real thing.

He loves it when your warm hands cup his face or when they’re intertwined with his. Stroking tears away, just pressing kisses on his face or just watching as his cheeks turn a pretty pink from you just touching him. Vincent loves it.

And lastly, your smile. Oh he could ramble for days and days on end about why he just adores it. Vincent had the honor to see your first genuine smile when you first came to the mansion. And ever since then, he relished in every sweet and warm honey like smile you have given him.

“They’ve given me everything. No matter what. Even…even their blood.”

The first time you bled, Vincent regretted it so so much of how he just…took from you. Drank from your thumb without your consent. Even if you said it was okay later on, he hated himself.

The second time though, he bit his lip and tried to simply bandage your wrist but then you raised it close to his lips. You told him to take and he was shocked but listened. He was so gentle with you.

Even when you had no injury, you offered him your blood any time he was hungry and he was elated to find out that you didn’t mind. You wanted him. You meant the world.

So anytime he’s hungry, instead of suppressing it using blanc, he goes to his amazing lover to be fed. At the end of his feeding, he licks your wound and just smiles dopily at you.

“Despite everything that I am, despite who I am, they love me to the moon and back.”

He gets his bad days sometimes. Where he feels trapped and stuck inside his head. Where he hears the striking sound of a sharp gunshot over and over again.

Days where he won’t come out of his room at all. Not even eating when Sebastian brings him food. Not even when Theo, Arthur, or even when William or Comte come with concern.

You know this. He’s still a living being with emotions. So you bring both of your plates up and just eat inside his room. No words are needed. Just your presence.

If he feels okay enough, he’ll sneak his head out from underneath his blanket and simply lay his head on your lap.

“Because despite everything,”

A certain memory strikes in his head as he remembers having a mental breakdown from being reminded of what his parents told him.

“They choose to look at me with stars and colors swirling in their beautiful eyes.”

You were next to him in seconds. Holding him as you guided him to an alleyway to kiss his tears away and be besides him even after he calmed down. He sniffled in your arms and was about to give an apology before you kissed him and assured him that you’d stay by his side.

“I am forever grateful and honored to have such an amazing significant other like them. I want to stay by their side, to be the one to comfort them as they do me.”

Vincent watched one day as you just bit down on your sobs as he was painting one day. He dropped his paintbrush and immediately kissed your head with ever so gentleness. He’ll listen to you if , or just wait in silence if you don’t want to talk about it in the moment. The blond wiped away your tears as they flowed down, let you laid on his chest as you bursted out in tears.

“Because I love them. I love them. I love them.”

You smile at him as you watched the starry night shine down on his beautiful features and warm ocean eyes. Leaning again the flowered gazebo.

For an entire day, he spent time with you, and you just adored that.

But why was he suddenly saying all of this? You didn’t not like it but what was all of this coming from?

“I want to make a wish. A wish to stay by their side forever until…not until our last breath, I want to stay by their side for eternity. For however long they want me by their side. I don’t even know if they’ll accept but…”

….Wait.

Hang on.

It can’t be.

Could it?

A sudden gust of wind went through the gazebo, blowing petals off their flowers inside. The moonlight shining individually on each velvety piece.

But all you saw was Vincent on his knee holding your hand.

“V-Vincent?”

“I’d like to ask them. To ask you my starlight, to marry me. To please stay by my side through all our hardships. Through everything no matter how light or heavy it is. Regardless of what you answer, I love you.”

Again, you took his breath away and his head over heels as you tackled him with a hug and teary eyes.

He fell for you all over again.

#ミミ☆ #Vincent Van Gogh x reader #Van gogh x reader #vincent x reader #ikevamp #cybird ikemen #ikemen vampire #Ikémen vampire #ikevamp vincent #Ikémen vampire x reader #ikemen vampire x reader #ikevamp x reader #ikevamp vincent x reader #x female reader #x male reader #x gn reader #x reader #ikemen series

[mandaloriandragontrainer]

An awful drabble of all my feelings.

~~~~~~

Rayla felt herself go weak at the knees.

Every night, every single cold, lonely night for two years, as she found herself shivering amongst the branches or roots of a gnarled tree, vainly chasing sleep, she would think about him. Think about his boyish smile, his gentle hands, his kind green eyes. How she never felt more loved in her entire life than in the months she was with him. She would take his scarf, the one tangible reminder she had of him, and wrap it tightly around herself, letting the memories keep her warm, because certainly memories were all she’d ever have. It was a childhood romance, she told herself, sweet and stupid and fleeting. And after two years, he would’ve moved on. She’d broken his heart after all, leaving him in the dead of night without so much as a proper goodbye, and he was the crown prince now. He was probably betrothed to some elegant, wealthy princess by now. Someone deserving of a boy as wonderful and brave as him. She would imagine how regal he would look at his wedding, the joy in his eyes when he saw his lovely bride. And she would force herself to be content. No, she wouldn’t dare ruin whatever happiness he had found in the time since she abandoned him by showing up and ripping open the old wounds she’d inflicted on his heart. No, she would cherish the precious memory of his love, and let him go.

And yet here he was. Callum. Staring at her with those eyes, now flickering with disbelief. He was even more handsome than she could’ve imagined. He was so much taller than before, and his hair was now longer, windswept, framing his attractive jaw. He took a step toward her, and she shuddered, glancing down. She felt so small in front of him. The boy she’d loved was no more, and a man had taken his place. And yet here she was, though some months older, still a girl. A girl who was so afraid of failure that she left the boy who’d thrown himself off a cliff to rescue her to chase after a dead man.

“Callum…” Rayla whispered, voice catching in her throat. “I—I don’t… Callum, I’m so—”

“Rayla….”

She gasped softly as she was suddenly drawn into his arms, cradled against his broad chest, breath leaving her as his strong hands caressed her face and his lips found hers.

“Oh Rayla…” Callum pressed his forehead to the girl’s, tears streaming from his eyes. “Rayla, I’ve missed you so much…”

She was so beautiful, even more beautiful than she was in his dreams, strong and lithe and graceful. The most gorgeous being he’d ever seen. He ran his fingers through her silvery cascades of hair and gently brushed the tears from her cheeks. “Rayla, please don’t cry…”

“You’re—you’re cryin,’ too…” she hiccuped, clinging to his arm. Callum couldn’t tell if she was trembling or if he was. “Callum, I’m so sorry, please, I’m so—“

“No, no, not right now…” Callum silenced her with another kiss. “You don’t have to apologize right now. I just… I can’t believe it’s really you. Oh look at you, you’re so…. so beautiful,” he gushed, afraid to let go of her, afraid she’d disappear again if he dared do so. In that moment, it didn’t matter where she’d been or what she’d done. All that mattered was she was here, really here, the love of his life, safe and wrapped in his arms. And he silently swore to himself, he would never let anything take her from him again.

From beyond the veil, Aaravos smiled. Here at last, was the key to the heart of the young human mage. And once she was in his grasp, the boy would belong to him.

#I just want them to hold each other #hence this terribly written thing #the dragon prince #the dragon prince: mystery of aaravos #callum #tdp callum #rayla #tdp rayla #rayllum #aaravos #tdp fanfic #tdp drabble #mando writes

[sequinsmile-x]

All's Fair - Chapter 6

Emily and Aaron have loved each other since they were children. War might be the thing that finally brings them together, but it could also be the thing that tears them apart forever.

A Hotchniss AU, set in 1917 and beyond.

-x-

Thank you so much for the love for this fic. I cannot believe we are at the penultimate chapter.

I really hope you enjoy this, and would love to know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 5.6k

A list of warnings and tags can be found on the Series Master List

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily, 

I cannot begin to explain how much I needed these last couple of days. Every second was worth the long journey and they will get me through the journey and back and whatever comes next. 

It’s strange to know how life has carried on with everything I have seen over there. One day I might have the words to tell you some of it, but for now, just know that you and Mae are the balm I need to remind myself there are good things. That I can be part of something good. 

As I write this you are asleep next to me. I can feel the warmth of your skin, and hear the sound of you snoring. (You can’t deny it, you do.) I’ll spend the foreseeable future trying to recreate this feeling, the peace only you can bring me. 

I know I’ve already said it, but I want to make sure I’ve written it down. That it’s something you can revisit when you need reminding. I love you, and I am so proud of what you are doing here - the way you are raising our daughter. I hope that she turns out to be exactly like you. And I hope even more that I get to see it. 

When I look at her, it amazes me that part of her came from me. That something so perfect can come from someone so broken. 

Leaving is something I wish I didn’t have to do. I would give anything to stay here, to finally be the family we deserve to be. 

I will do everything I can to come back to you. To both of you

All my love,

Aaron 

___

She couldn’t explain it if asked, but it felt worse this time. His departure and the absence that followed sharper, a type of pain that she’d fooled herself into thinking she was used to. She ached with it, her chest tight in a way she’d forgotten it could be. 

She slowly paces Mae’s nursery, the weight of her daughter against her chest the only thing that was keeping her together. Mae fusses in her arms, unable to settle in a way that was out of character for the usually calm baby. Emily kisses the top of her head and rubs her hand in soft circles on the infant’s back, whispering gentle words against her little girl’s soft skin. 

“I know, sweet girl,” she whispers, kissing her head again, “I miss Daddy too.” 

Emily thought that seeing them together, that her brief glimpse of seeing Aaron as the father she always knew he’d be, would help. That it would show her what was to come when she finally had him back for good. But it hurt. 

If she closed her eyes she could picture how they’d discovered that Mae found it hilarious when Aaron frowned. The baby’s cheeks stamped with dimples they bickered over, both convinced she got them from the other, as she smiled up at her father, as close to laughter as she ever had been as he tried to hold the frown in place. Emily realises she should have known that it would never be enough, that even if they were lucky and he came back and they got decades together she’d still want more. 

She’d grown up reading as many romance novels as she could get her hands on. Not because she believed in it, or hoped for her own happy ending that she never dreamed she’d get, but because they made her world bigger. Her mother had always insisted that Emily was as educated as possible. That she could talk to anyone about anything. It meant she was well-versed in many topics and spoke several languages, but it had never truly been for her benefit. It had been so she could represent the family, so she could attract a husband. Do the duty she had been born into with no choice in the matter. She knew of the world, but hers was small. Reduced to the town she was born in. The house she still lived in.

It felt like there was no small amount of irony in the fact it was now where she was raising her own daughter. 

The books she’d read had meant she could go anywhere she wanted. It was only now that she knew the love in them was real. Something she had experienced herself first-hand. She had seen love’s true face. The beauty and the horror of it, sorrow and joy two sides of the same coin. 

She feels Mae get heavier against her and she tilts her head to look down, smiling sadly when she sees her daughter is finally asleep. She kisses the side of her head one more time before she lays her in her crib.

“Love you,” she whispers, tracing her fingers over Mae’s forehead before she leaves the room, careful to ensure she pulls the door gently closed behind her. 

Emily hesitates briefly before she climbs into her bed, pulling the covers that still smelt like Aaron tight around her, seeking the warmth that she knew she wouldn’t find without him there. She buries her face in the pillow he’d used, hoping sleep would find her as easily as the grief was able to.

___

Aaron,

It feels like an age since I last saw you, but as I’m writing this you are likely not even back in France yet. 

The bed still smells like you. JJ keeps trying to change the bedding but I won’t let her until it fades and it just smells like me again. 

Mae laughed properly for the first time today. It was beautiful. For the first time since you left us again, I felt truly happy, even if it was just for a second. 

Mother is giving me space, and I am grateful for it. She seems to finally understand that I want to do all of this my way. Either that or she feels so sorry for me that she’s just letting it go. I can’t bring myself to care, I’m grateful either way. 

I love you. I’m somehow more in love with you now than I was yesterday. And I know I’ll love you more tomorrow. 

‘Semper in absentes felicior aestus amantes.’

That means ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ if you don’t remember your Latin poetry from our tutor. I seem to remember you and Governness Strauss always being at odds with each other. 

All our love,

Emily & Mae

___

She doesn’t know how to feel when she gets her period a couple of weeks after Aaron leaves. A strange mix of elation and disappointment makes her stomach churn with something other than the familiar cramps. 

She wasn’t sure she could have handled a second child so close to having Mae. It was something her doctor had warned her about, and her answer at the time had been a wry smile and a quiet reminder that her husband was in Europe. Emotionally she would have struggled too, sure she would have actually had to hire the help she had so firmly denied from her mother for months. 

But she can’t shake the feeling that this was it. Her only chance to have more of him, for there to be more of him left in the world in his children. Her heart hurt at the thought of something she’d never had in the first place. 

She holds Mae even closer than usual that night, more determined than ever to give her all of the kind of love she wishes she’d grown up with herself. 

___

Emily & Mae,

I don’t know what makes it to the news back at home, but things here are, almost impossibly, worse than ever. 

I can’t go into details. Even if I found the words this letter would never make it to you if I did, but the small bits of home I have with me are getting me through. I still have the telegram that was sent by Rossi to confirm Mae had been born safely. I have our wedding photo and the photo of the two of you.

I wear the ring you bought me all the time now. I’m not the only man here with one. I think we all see it as a reminder of home. Something we can see that we don’t have to dig through our pockets for. I know you don’t believe in luck, Em, but I’ve come to see it as a good luck charm of sorts. If I make it home, I promise I will never take it off. 

I love you, and I’ll try to write again soon. 

All my love,

Aaron 

___

September 1918

Emily laughs as Mae shifts on the grass, scooting the small distance to her mother’s side, her tiny fists littered with the small petals of a daisy she’d squished as she grabbed it. She presses her hands into Emily’s thigh, pushing herself up as she often tried to do these days, desperate for her mother’s love and attention as she always was. 

“Ok I get it, baby,” she says, reaching for her daughter. She picks her up, holding her firmly as she holds her up in her lap, Mae’s tiny feet pressing into Emily’s legs as if she was standing by herself, “Look at you,” she exclaims, smiling widely as Mae giggles, always happy, “You’re standing up. Such a clever girl.” 

Mae babbles at her, noises that were so close to Mama it made Emily’s heart ache, and she reaches out for her, leaning in to seek out more of her mother’s embrace. Emily doesn’t hesitate for a second, adjusting her hold on her daughter so she was holding her flush against her chest, not caring for a second about the grass stains that were sure to transfer over to her own clothes. 

“You ok, sweet girl?” She asks, even though she knows the 7-month-old cannot respond. Mae rubs her face against Emily’s chest, the usual sign that she was tired. “We’ll go back inside shall we?” Emily says, managing to stand up with her daughter still in her arms, a move she was well practised at, “Maybe we’ll nap together.” 

Mae’s response is to cling onto Emily a little tighter, her hand twisting into her hair as it so often did when she was tired. As if she was trying to anchor herself to Emily, still too young to understand that there was nowhere Emily would rather be than wherever she was. 

Emily reaches back down for her book and can’t help but smile at the sight of the torn-up daises, the flowers that the baby seemed to love just as much as she did. 

“Did you know your daddy used to work here,” Emily says, proud of herself for the way she was able to talk about Aaron without her voice wavering. She struggled if anyone mentioned him to her, but whenever she spoke of him to Mae, which was often, she was fine. As if his existence had been reduced to a secret between the two of them - the people he loved more than anyone else, “He used to make fun of me for liking daises so much,” she adds, kissing the side of her daughter’s head as she starts to walk them away from where they’d been sitting and back to the house, “He’d always said they are weeds. But I think they are beautiful.”

Mae makes a small noise that sounds like agreement, her face still pressed into Emily’s skin, and it makes Emily chuckle. She walks back to the house quickly, determined to get the little girl down for her nap. As soon as enters the house she’s met by Dave, her mother and JJ. All clearly waiting for her and stood in a line. It makes her falter, her hold on Mae tightening slightly as the baby gets heavier in her hold, already on her way to being asleep. 

“Emily, where have you been?” Elizabeth asks, an urgency to her voice that makes the hair on the back of Emily’s neck stand up. 

“Just sitting outside with Mae,” she replies, looking back and forth between the three people standing in front of her, not liking the kind look on any of their faces, “I’m bringing her in for a nap. What’s going on?” 

“Why don’t I take her up?” JJ says, walking toward her and easing Mae out of her arms. Mae fusses a little, waking up slightly as she realises she’s no longer in her mother’s embrace. “Then you can all talk.” 

Emily nods, finally tearing her eyes off of her mother to look at Mae for a second, leaning in to kiss her baby’s forehead. “Love you, sweet girl.” 

JJ walks away with Mae in her arms, heading for the stairs as she talks softly. Emily looks back at her mother and Dave, and she swallows thickly. 

“Why don’t we go into my office?” Elizabeth says, and Dave nods. Emily follows them wordlessly, worse-case scenarios flooding her brain in an instant. 

“What is going on?” Emily repeats as they make it into the office. She allows herself to be guided into a seat. Dave ends up next to Emily, clearly there as some kind of moral support, and Elizabeth takes her seat at her desk. 

“I received a letter from the head of the team Aaron is on this afternoon.” 

Emily’s mouth goes dry, her senses briefly dulled as the words, and their implication, sink in. “What? I don’t understand why would he write to you?”

Elizabeth clears her throat, clearly struggling with the information she’d received herself, a tension in her body Emily doesn’t recognise. 

“It seems Aaron had an arrangement in place that any…difficult news would be delivered to me, not you directly.” 

“Difficult…” Emily chokes out, her hands tightening into fists in her lap, “No. Please don’t tell me he’s…”

She drifts off, not able to say the words out loud. She feels like she wants to run. All she wants to do is go upstairs and grab her baby and run. But she can’t move, weighed down to the chair by everything she has spent well over a year trying desperately to avoid. 

“Captain Gideon’s team were involved in a small operation, and there was an explosion,” Elizabeth says far too calmly for Emily’s liking, her voice a direct contradiction to the way her eyes are shining, “There were six fatalities.” 

Emily feels tears pour onto her cheeks, and she doesn’t try to wipe them away, knowing it is pointless, that they’d only be instantly replaced. 

“Is Aaron one of them?” 

“They don’t know.” 

She frowns, her huffing out a sound she can’t identify, “What do you mean they don’t know? How can they not know?”  She feels Dave’s hand on her shoulder, a familiar comforting squeeze she’d felt the day of her father’s funeral, but it’s all she can feel, the rest of her body numb. 

“There were ten men on the mission. Six were confirmed dead, two returned and two remain unaccounted for. Aaron isn’t one of the two that came back. Due to the…nature…of the explosion, it is unlikely they will be able to identify the dead for some time.” 

Emily laughs, and it feels inappropriate, but it’s all she can do. The sound escaping before she can cover her mouth to capture it. 

“So, what? We’re just supposed to wait? I’m just supposed to wait to find out if my husband is dead or not?” She exclaims, her fingers twisting her wedding ring around, the small band of metal the heaviest it had ever felt, “He…he wears a wedding ring. That’s not overly common…maybe-”

“Apparently it’s something a lot of the men have taken to doing,” Elizabeth says softly, cutting through her one strand of hope, the thread that had been holding her together. 

She can’t place the order of things. Isn’t sure if she breaks first, or if Dave pulls her into a hug and then she breaks, her tears pressed into his jacket as he attempts to comfort her. At some point, she hears the click of the door, her mother leaving her in the presence of the person she’d always sought comfort from over her.

“Everything will be alright, Bella,” Dave says, using the nickname he hadn’t used since she was young. When she used to sneak into the kitchen downstairs, her knees scraped from where she’d fallen when out in the grounds with Aaron and Sean. Dave would comfort her before giving her a piece of candy as he bandaged her up before sending her on her way to her parents. 

“How?” She asks, pulling back to look at him, “If he’s dead,” she sobs, the word tasting bitter in her mouth, “If he’s dead, how can anything be alright?” 

Dave doesn’t have an answer for her, no words that will bring her comfort, and they sit in silence, the only sound her tears and the clicking of the clock on the wall. 

___

Emily thinks it may have been the longest two weeks of her life since her mother pulled her into her office. There had been no news since. No telegrams. No follow-up letters from the commander or from Aaron himself.

Not for the first time since this all began, Emily finds herself furious that the world carries on. Anger she cannot completely contain making her unable to keep still. It felt absurd that the sun continued to rise, that the grass grew and daises bloomed. She couldn’t go out to the grounds anymore, couldn’t look at anything, other than Mae, that reminded her of him. Of what she may well have lost. 

She busies herself, desperate to keep her mind occupied in a way other than re-reading the letters from Aaron again. She finds herself in the room that had slowly turned into a library of sorts, organising the books she’d collected over the years. She appreciated the fact it was just hers, something that no one else had really ever had a part of. 

There’s a soft knock on the door, and Emily knows it can only be her mother. She sighs and gives herself a moment to prepare herself before she responds. 

“You can come in, Mother.” 

The door opens and Elizabeth comes into view, “How did you know it was me?”

Emily smiles wryly, “The only people who know I like to spend my time in here are you and Dave, and he always jokes I’m at my most dangerous when I have a book in my hand.” 

Elizabeth smiles at that before she clears her throat, “Where’s Mae?” 

Emily freezes for a second but carries on putting her books in a pointless pile, not looking at her mother as she replies, “She’s napping. When the house is this quiet I can hear her from here if she cries,” she flicks her eyes over to Elizabeth before she looks back at the books, “Was there any mail?”

“Not today,” Elizabeth replies, watching as Emily visibly deflates. She sighs, intently watching her daughter for a moment before she carries on, “Emily, I think it’s time you accepted-”

“No,” Emily firmly cuts her off, continuing her task of re-organising her books, needing to do something, anything, to keep herself busy. She already knew what her mother was going to say, and she didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to be forced to talk about it. 

“Emily, I know what it is to lose the person you love. You need to think about it, for your sake and for Mae’s-”

“Don’t tell me what is best for my daughter,” Emily snaps, the book she had been holding dropping down to the table in front of her, the crack of the hardcover against the wood echoing around the room, “And Dad died here, Mom,” she says, choking on a bitter laugh, shaking her head as she throws her hands in the air, “Not in some godforsaken field in France. He died here. And you got to hold his hand and be there. And you got years with him. Not enough, I know, but years. I’ve had days with Aaron. Days.” She stares at her mother, unshed tears in Elizabeth’s eyes and Emily feels her own tears fall onto her cheeks. She wipes them away furiously. “So, excuse me if I refuse to accept it until I have confirmation that he’s dead. Because the thought of it…of him just gone without me getting the chance to say goodbye, without telling him one more time how much I love him,” she shakes her head again, her chin trembling with the force of the emotions she was trying to hold back, “It’s too much to bear.”

“I just think-”

“You paid for that doctor to travel all the way from California because you’d read somewhere that he might be able to help, Dad,” she lets a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh, unsure herself which one it was, “He was dead by the time he got here,” she shrugs, her shoulders heavy with everything she’d endured for the last year and a half, “How is this different? How is me holding onto the tiny bit of hope I have left any different from that?” 

Elizabeth wipes a tear from her cheek before clearing her throat, grief for herself, for her daughter and granddaughter almost enough to choke her. She eventually nods almost indiscernibly. 

“I guess it isn’t,” Elizabeth finally says. Emily thinks if things were different between them, if they had the relationship Emily hoped to one day have with her own daughter, her mother would have stepped forward to hug her then. To wrap her in her arms and tell her that, no matter what, everything would be alright. Instead, she stands there, several feet away from her, a sad smile on her face Emily doesn’t remember seeing for quite some time, “I never apologised to you for how I was after your father died,” she says, shaking her head at herself, “I was so…wrapped up in my own grief, in everything I was about to have to do, that I didn’t allow myself to think about the fact you’d lost something too.” 

The admission surprises Emily. It was one of the many things they’d never addressed. Something else that had pushed them to where they were now. The strange thing was, Emily had never had more empathy for her mother than she did right now. It wasn’t lost on her that she could already be a widow and a single mother without knowing it, that her wilful ignorance of it until she had confirmation from the army wouldn’t make it any less true if Aaron really was dead. In a cruel twist of fate, she may well have ended up in the exact same position as her mother, albeit much earlier on in her life. 

“It’s ok,” Emily chokes out, unsure what else she can say, “If Aaron…I don’t know what I’d do.” 

Elizabeth steps towards her and reaches out to grab Emily’s hand, squeezing it in hers like she hadn’t done for years. 

“I know that you wouldn’t leave Mae behind in it all,” Elizabeth says, a flash of something Emily would call pride crossing her face as she mentions her granddaughter, “No matter what you end up having to wade through, I know you’ll keep her head above water too. You’re already a far better mother than I ever was.” 

Emily doesn’t know what to say, sure that whatever it was would be wrong, somehow inappropriate. She blows out a breath, feeling it shudder as it escapes as if it catches on every rib on its way out. It feels like she has barely any space to breathe, her lungs stuffed full of pre-emptive grief that she refuses to let out. 

“Thanks, Mom.” ___

Aaron,

I don’t even know why I’m writing this. 

I have nowhere to send it because the one place I know you aren’t is where you should be. Here. 

Everyone keeps telling me that I need to come to terms with the fact you’re gone and that I am a fool for hoping for anything different. Hope is as necessary as it is foolish, so I will hold onto it with both hands until someone tells me for certain you were one of the men who died. 

I haven’t said this to anyone, because it sounds ridiculous even to me, but I think I’d know if you were dead. I think I’d be able to feel it. 

I’ve never really been sure what I believe in. Whether there is a heaven or what comes after this. Good vs evil never seemed as black and white to me as they tried to make it seem in church, especially now after everything that’s happened over the last few years. 

But if you’re there, if you really have left us, I hope it’s good. Please wait for me, because I’ll spend the rest of my life waiting for you. 

I love you.

Emily

___

October 1918

She stands back as she slides the last book into place, pushing it to level with the others on the shelf. 

Shortly after her conversation with her mother, bookshelves Emily hadn’t asked for or ordered arrived and were then built by the estate’s handyman. They were a silent show of support from her mother and she appreciated it. 

“Well, baby girl,” Emily says, looking over to where Mae was sitting in the corner of the room, surrounded by her toys, “That’s the last of them.”

Mae smiles at her mother, clapping her hands together, babbling in a way that only Emily seemed to understand. 

“I know,” Emily replies enthusiastically as if her daughter had said something interesting, “We’ll get some chairs in here I think,” she says mindlessly, “That way, when you learn to read in a few years we can practise in here together. And when you’re a bit older, you can read whatever you want. Poetry’s always been my favourite,” her smile slips from her face, “Daddy always made fun of me for it.” 

There was still nothing, no news or updates that were positive or negative. Elizabeth had even tried to use her connections, something that Emily was grateful for for the first time in her whole life, but there was nothing. Complete silence. 

Emily didn’t understand how anyone could simply disappear, or how she was supposed to accept it. She feels all too familiar grief climb up her chest, greeting her like an old friend. She clears her throat, forcing it back down before she looks back at the books. 

“Maybe alphabetically wasn’t the way to go,” she says to herself, using the same distraction she had used for weeks in an attempt to calm herself, “The Dewey Decimal system is more modern but-”

She’s cut off by a knock on the door, and she sighs, closing her eyes as she continues to try to calm down. 

“I’m not really in the mood for company, Mother,” she says tightly, not turning to look at the door, “Can you come back later?” The door opens anyway and her frustration turns quickly into anger. She whips around, already speaking, “I said I want to be-” She cuts herself off. Her words dying in her throat as their eyes meet. For a moment she forgets to breathe. Everything reduced to just her and the impossible sight in front of her. “You…” 

Aaron steps towards her, approaching her tentatively like she was a wild animal, and he stops just short of touching her.

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

She takes a step backwards, “No, you’re…this isn’t…” she trips over her words, everything she’d repressed for weeks rising to the surface, overwhelming her, “You were missing. They wrote and said they didn’t know where you are,” she covers her mouth with her shaking hand, just barely catching a sob before it escapes, “I thought you were dead.” 

It’s the first time she’s said anything close to it since that afternoon in her mother’s office when she first found out something had happened. Ever since she’d spoken around it, alluded to it in different terms. Worried that if she said it it would make it real. She feels her heart crack in her chest, and she covers her face with her hands. 

“Em.” He steps forward and pulls her into a hug, not offended when she tenses slightly, all too aware that her emotions were fraught, “I was hurt after the explosion,” he says, kissing the top of her head as she snakes her arms around him, her body finally catching up with her brain, “I was still mobile and got lost in all the confusion. I ended up in a different hospital from the others. I wrote to you.” 

He feels her respond, her words vibrating through his chest, but he doesn’t hear it. He pulls away from her, his hands on her shoulders as he looks down at her.

“Sorry love, I didn’t hear you,” he says softly, removing one hand from her to point at his ear when she looks at him, her tear-filled eyes narrowed in confusion, “My ear was damaged in the explosion, the doctor said I’ll likely never get all my hearing back.” 

“I said I didn’t get the letter,” she repeats, her gaze shifting to his left ear. She reaches out to touch it as if she could feel the damage she couldn’t see, “Your hearing…” 

“It’s just the left side,” he explains, and she nods, acknowledging she understands, “But it’s enough that the army can’t make use of me anymore.” 

She freezes again, her hands grasping the back of his jacket, the scratchiness of the material enough to bring her back to the moment fully for the first time since he walked in. 

“You mean…” she drifts off, sure she’s somehow misunderstood, that the universe wasn’t suddenly being kind to her after spending so long being cruel.

“They honourably discharged me,” he says, smiling at her, leaning down so his forehead presses into hers, “I’m home for good.” 

She breathes out, her lungs feeling relief in a way she’s sure they haven’t since this all started. Since she’d sat on a bus, a ring on her finger and a baby in her belly that she didn’t know about yet as she watched him disappear from view. She cups his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss, foregoing any attempt to be gentle. 

“I love you,” she says, pulling back just far enough to speak, before she kisses him again, “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too,” he replies, his hand buried in her hair, refamiliarising himself with the feel of her, “I’m sorry you were so worried.” 

She chokes out a laugh, and she was about to tell him that worried doesn’t even come close to covering it, but they are interrupted by a cry from the other side of the room. Emily looks over, laughing at the slightly put-out look on Mae’s face as she starts to crawl over to her parents. 

“Sorry, Mae. We haven’t forgotten about you I promise,” she says, disconnecting herself from her husband as she walks the short distance to their daughter, wiping her tears from her cheeks before she leans down to pick the baby up. She hauls her onto her hip, kissing the side of her head before she turns back to Aaron. 

“She’s gotten so big,” Aaron says, smiling at the sight of his girls together, “She’s beautiful.” He can’t believe how much she’s grown, how different she looks from the last time he saw her. If he thought she looked like Emily back then, she certainly looks more like her now. He tries to ignore the pang of hurt as Mae shies away from him when he reaches out for her, burying herself further into Emily’s side. 

Emily wipes fresh tears from her cheeks, sure she’d never stop now she had started “She’s ok, she’s just a bit shy around…”

She stops herself, cutting herself off before she says something that could upset him. Aaron smiles tightly at her.

“Around strangers,” he finishes for her before he wraps his arm around her.

“You’re not a stranger,” Emily says, leaning into him, not wanting to be anywhere other than with him anytime soon.

“I’ve missed a lot,” he laments, watching how Mae watches Emily, all of her focus on her mother as if she’d somehow inherited his love for her despite the fact she’d never really seen it in action. 

Emily presses a kiss to his cheek before she pulls back to look at him, keen to make sure he hears her. 

“You’re here now,” she says, smiling widely at him, “There will be plenty to see and do together.” 

Aaron nods, pulling her into his chest, grateful when Mae doesn’t seem to mind being close to him as long as Emily is too. He kisses the top of his wife’s head, breathing in the scent of her, filling his lungs with it. Letting it replace everything that had taken residence in his chest since they had last seen each other. It finally sinks in that he’s home. Because home had never been the Prentiss’s estate, or the tiny house he used to live in on it.

Home had always been her. 

“We can do everything.”

-x-

Tag list:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhconh, @lex13cm

Join my tag list here!

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fan fic #aaron x emily #hotch x prentiss

[casadefreewill]

Daily Fics

(Fics I read throughout the day yesterday and enjoyed)

ML

Imposter Syndrome by highspeedearth

Impostor Syndrome: when you believe it is only a matter of time before they find out you don't know what you are doing.

Marinette had a bad day, and this time transforming into Ladybug doesn't help.

Chat Noir plucks her off the Eiffel Tower for a pep talk.

Marinette spiraling a little after being reminded just how much of a physical difference there is between her and Ladybug and Chat cheering her up and reminding her that they’re one and the same.

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

Spellbound by Lilafly ( @lilaflyy )

Going out on Midsummer had been a very bad idea, Adrien was able to admit that much. He couldn’t regret running into a girl named Marinette though, who had helped him through the time where Faerie tried to call him with sweet songs.

He really wanted to get to know her better, but there was a slight problem: he was a Cat Sidhe and if she found out about it, she might as well be proclaimed dead on the spot. But the loneliness he had seen in her eyes had been too familiar for him to just leave her alone. Keeping her ignorant of the presence of the fair folk, while he himself was one of them, proved to be a lot harder than he had expected it to be though.

Spellbound updated! (ﾉ⌒∇⌒)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧※☆°＊*・.:.

So I’ve rec’d it before here and here but to reiterate:

Faedrien (cat sidhe) twins au with changeling!Bridgette. Love square romance, AroAce!Felix, kwami backstory, miraculous lore, lots of Fae lore, Bridgette backstory, kwami swaps, and lots of other fun stuff!

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

AtLA

In The Garden Light At Dawn by Rosemary_and_Geraniums

Zuko never got to complete his redemption arc. When he confronted his father on the day of the eclipse, he never walked away from the fight.

Alternatively:

Ozai killed his son before he could run away and join the avatar, mixed with my favorite SoulmateAU where the gaang is one big soul family.

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

Unwanted Friends by FoiblePNoteworthy ( @foiblepnoteworthy )

Aang knew those swords. He’d seen them every day, felt the warm, if rough, presence of their owner in all his hardest moments and coldest flights. He was a strong figure, gentle in his own way. A Firebender who still used swords.

***

There needs to be more platonic soulmate AUs, you guys. Come on. Who wants to see Zuko get dragged into his redemption arc by his soulmates?

So TunaFishChris’s The Family You Choose is still my favorite iteration of the idea of soulmates I’ve ever come across. When you touch blood with your soulmate you share memories and exist like a ghost in their life that only they can interact with. Both of the above stories are takes on that au.

#fic rec #Daily Fics #ml #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #chat noir #Imposter Syndrome #highspeedearth #Faedrien #Fae #Cat Sidhe #felix agreste #bridgette #Spellbound #Lilafly #atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #katara #sokka #aang #soulmate au #In The Garden Light At Dawn #Rosemary_and_Geraniums #Unwanted Friends #FoiblePNoteworthy

[writtenbywings]

Life After Forever

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Elena Gilbert

Summary: [A continuation following the finale] "After our long and happy life together..." — including small snippets of everything in between. Damon and Elena live after forever.

Chapter word count: 1.5k words

Link: Life After Forever

Type: Fluffy Romance

CH.1 - THE WEDDING

"Morning, sunshine."

"It's an omen to see the bride before her wedding day."

"You've been dating an omen for the past decade, might I remind. One little peek won't hurt."

Elena sat, a silk robe of white ribboned around her waist, her hair pinned in great curls against her head.

She looked lovely, Damon thought, as his eyes drank in the sheer sight of her. Riveted, as he had always been by the gentleness in her skin, the warm innocence in her eyes. They caught him, studying in the most beautiful way. How could he not see her after these three days apart?

"It hasn't been that long, you know." She said, and stood from the silver rimmed chair. It was the same one she had gotten ready in eight years ago, preparing for the Miss Mystic Falls pageant. Her stomach was in an equal chaos of knots. Though this time, they were welcomed instead of dreaded.

"It's been long enough." Damon said, taking a step towards her. "And after five months of waking up beside you, I'm not liking the sudden change. You're lucky I've agreed to part with you for this long."

Elena narrowed the wedge of space between them, and dangled her arms over his shoulders, crossing her pinkie fingers around the back of his neck. She noticed that there was a darkness nestled unpeacefully beneath his eyes, and a peakiness about his skin. He looked tired, and she knew all too well the feeling.

Damon, even after all of this time, was adapting to the upkeep of human life.

"You don't have to worry any longer." Elena whispered, lightly hovering her lips over his. "In a few short hours we'll be husband and wife… and nothing will keep us apart."

He sighed against his greatest weakness—her—and took her mouth selfishly against his own, using its sweetness for his own selfish need and desire, the taste of her a drug he had never been able to forget; even after all of this time.

A disturbing cough came from behind, and as if knowing, Damon pried his mouth off the honey that was his bride, his bluer than blue eyes piercing irritatingly ahead. They reflected off of Elena and swerved to the icy blonde of Caroline Forbes; her brow cocked in question.

"I was just leaving." He said, and Elena watched with brief embarrassment the muscle in his jaw bounce. He turned back to kiss her forehead, and then left, keeping her hand in his until gravity yanked them apart.

"Two more hours he had to wait." Caroline tutted, locking the door behind him. She was wearing a lovely gold number—a silk that danced off of her hips and waist—shimmering as she went. Elena couldn't help but smile, returning to that chair where then, she began to brush a rouge upon her cheeks.

"Bonnie is bringing your something old, and I, am gifting you your something blue."

Caroline fetched from her purse a little black box, and for a moment, Elena had to wonder if it was the necklace Stefan had given her… all those years ago. She had told those close to her that she didn't want it, that it was his and touching it would disrupt the peace she had laid with him. Though still, a brief part of her wondered as she took into her hands that little velveteen box, pinching the lid with hesitation.

Upon a bed of silk, there was a blue gemstone, a carved 'D' within the centre. It was a necklace, one that gave off those familiar fumes of vervain and lavender. Elena frowned, and faced Caroline's look of apprehension.

"Well… do you like it?"

She did, though she didn't quite understand it.

"Here, let me put it on."

Caroline came behind Elena, taking that rope of silver and lacing it around her throat with a pinch and twist, that heart of lapis resting between her collarbones. It truly did look beautiful.

"It was Damon's ring… though Bonnie enchanted it to protect from compulsion instead of daylight. We both had it melted down into something new… something that was him instead of Stefan. What do you think?"

Elena had a small ooze of emotion, and her eyes welled, glistening in the mirror as she caressed it.

"A new necklace for a new life." She said, and Caroline laughed a tinkering, Christmas-bell laugh.

It truly was a new beginning.

____________________________

Damon slipped the silk of his tie through the noose of his shirt-collar, twisting, re-twisting, and grunting with irritation. It felt like it was choking him, and a talon-hand of suffocation was fastening around his neck.

Stefan should be here, he thought. A thought that perhaps ghosted through his mind a hundred times a day.

It had been five months since their last goodbye, and still, he dreamt of the flames that had licked up that cavern, engulfing Katherine and him in a finishing swallow. The roar of anger lodged in his throat, the haze of newly found humanity in his veins, the image of his brother's teary eyes as they board into Damon one last time. The last thing he saw.

Damon tossed aside the tie and went to lean against the fireplace, his forearm resting against that brick, the need for something strong drying out his mouth. Bourbon, he needed bourbon. But the recently discovered pain of a hangover wasn't worth it.

He found a bottle of champagne on ice, and popped the cork into the open flames, sipping from the rim. Just a little something to take the edge off, he thought to himself, unable to take his addiction of choice at this very moment; Elena.

"You okay in here?" A voice asked, and Damon glanced over his shoulder.

Alaric was in the doorway, the age having done a pain on his face, the weight of parenthood having done more to his hairline. Damon sighed, and turned back to the open fire.

"Just fine."

"So you're not openly drinking from a bottle on your wedding day?"

"He should be here, Ric."

Alaric sighed, and looked to his hands that were stuffed awkwardly in his pockets. "Yeah." He said, and swung forward a little. "Yeah, he should, Damon. But he isn't, and he wouldn't want you messing up this day for the sake of a little mourning."

Damon took another swig, and then set aside the bottle.

That was true, he inwardly agreed, though it didn't stop the gnawing guilt.

Ric strolled forward, and took the tie that had been draped over the armchair, moving Damon by the shoulder and centring him. "Today is your wedding day." He said, and looped the silk around his neck, adjusting its length and knotting the top. "That night in the tunnels, when Katherine was your priority, you thought this would never been a possibility. That it would only be a fantasy. You got the girl, Damon. And you'll see Stefan again, one day, one lifetime."

Damon lifted his chin, and forced one of those lopsided smiles everyone seemed to mistake for benignity. He nodded in appreciation, and shunned away the possibility that he would see Stefan again. He wouldn't give himself hope like that. Hope was a bitch, after all.

Though sitting on that armchair, the one Damon had previously flung his tie upon, was the brother he couldn't let himself believe lived after forever. Stefan sat, in his unseeable nothingness, and watched with a warmth in his green eyes—one that hadn't been there since they were children.

He thought, after all of the worry, he really was here, seeing what Damon deserved all along. And that, was the thing that brought him the most peace he'd had since death.

_____________________________________

The music began, and Bonnie's something old (a pair of Marie Gilbert's earrings) glimmered beautifully against the sun; nestled beneath the loops of Elena's chocolate curls. She took the first step, and got that same rush of warmth she had that day in the cemetery, the day her world had decided to flourish into something new… all by the presence of a crow and some fog.

Though today, the sun was brighter, and the rays were warm, and her smile was bigger than it had been before—the promise of forever sadness long gone. Happiness beginning now.

Jeremy clenched his arm around hers, and they walked in union down an aisle where white feathers were scattered in the centre. The exact ones Bonnie had used to showcase her magic for the first time.

Caroline's girls followed, and they tossed handfuls of red rose petals down the walk, giggling when reaching the end and scurrying into the laps of their mother and father.

Damon stood at the end, watching his fantasy finally catching up with him.

Elena left the arm of her brother—missing the sneaky flash of a middle finger to her beloved—and took his hand, watching the amusement only grow upon his face as he took in the twinkle of blue around her neck. His ring, he thought, and his chest only got heavier the more he waited. The more he endured the ceremony.

Let me have her, he thought, and recited the words blindly, fluently, uncaringly so.

Bonnie watched them, and Jeremy watched her, and there, was a first love that would never die. And in the distance, Niklaus zeroed in on the blonde to the right, whose heart was aching all too humanly for a vampire. Caroline yearned for Stefan, and tucked away a stray lock of hair to hide a tear, one little Lizzie and Josie frowned at.

The wedding came to a brief halt, just as the sun began setting in the sky—beautiful colours of orange and lazy pink and buttery yellow stretching across the apex. The 'I do's' were done, the guests had applauded, and Damon kissed Elena like it was the first time all over again.

The June wedding for a couple that was never expected.

#delena #damon x elena #delena fanfiction #tvd forever #tvd #elena gilbert #damon salvatore #damon edit #elena edit

[fatadoggy]

It’s over 1am where I’m living and I just hear this song for the first time and i feel like sharing it just for everybody to appreciate John’s voice in this song

#i don’t know but it’s really my first time hearing this song #but john’s voice #you know #is it legit to fall in love with someone over their voice only? #cuz i think i just did #sweet and gentle and reminding of the romance i’ve never had #the beatles #john lennon #Spotify

[sukirichi]

fall from grace

“If you were in love,” he began, voice barely above a whisper, “What would be the most beautiful thing those lips of yours would utter?”

“Your name.”

REQUEST/WARNINGS. (royal au, mutual pining, praise kink ) fake dating au, mirror sex, slight manhandling, fingering, body marking, prejudice, mentions of abuse, injustice, and inequality + unedited (I’m so lazy to edit tbh, I’m so sorry, just bear with me if there are typos or grammatical errors)

NOTES. I LOVE AND HATE THIS STORY

WC. 7k+

SONG INSPO. Ashes (Celine Dion)

The prince himself lifted his chin up higher; long, slender fingers deftly grazing against the pad of your knuckles that were pressed on his chest. 

The tips of your ears burned at the sight of people pausing from their conversations all to witness the scene – one that was so rare to have come from the infamous Crown Prince known to have bedded more women than he could count.

“Your Highness,” you pinched your brows together, leaning closer into him to bring you the least bit of comfort. The dress you had to wear today had nothing but itchy lace; albeit elegant, you preferred the loose materials of your dance clothes, painted red lips fighting back a grimace. “Must we really do this in public?”

The Crown Prince laughs, his white hair fluttering against the soft kisses of the wind. Beautiful, you think, beautiful, you are reminded, prompting you to dig your free hand deeper into the flesh of your thighs.

“What would be the point of our ruse if we are not a little flashy, My Lady?”

You frowned at his words, head ducked down as you avoided everyone’s prying eyes. You supposed you should be used to this – you are a performer, after all – but the attention was terribly unwelcomed yet expected from your previous agreements.

The said agreement, however, did not affect your standing as a person, something you had to remind the happy-go-lucky Prince. “I am not of that title.”

“People regard you of it,” he commented at an off-beat, his crystalline eyes sweeping over the crowd with a chilling command, a slight bite of a challenge that asked his people to dare him. When they shifted away, scurrying behind fluffed up skirts and pressed down suits, the Crown Prince snickered, smiling down at you with a flash of his pearly whites. “You are, after all, hanging prettily off my arm.”

“Because you asked me to, Your Highness.”

“Ah, are you forgetting already?” he paused, his long and elegant stature towering over yours. “I’m doing this for the both of us. The agreement was clear – you steered me away from my arranged marriage, redeem my nettling reputation, and in turn, I shall pick you up from where you’ve fallen,” your lips parted in protest, finger raised to correct that no, you had not fallen, that was not the situation at all, but he silenced you when he leaned down close enough that his eyes twinkled before you, lips turned at the side arrogantly. “In fact, I am more than capable of providing you more than that.”

“I am well aware of that, Your Highness. I truly am indebted to you.”

Should you be humiliated? Forming an agreement with the Crown Prince would be the last thing that would ever arrive even in your craziest dreams, yet there you were, in the middle of the town square, leisurely strolling with the Kingdom’s heir as if it was but a daily occurrence.

Thoughts running back to your latest predicament – which he just had to bear witness to – you winced, swallowing the resigned sigh that threatened to spill.

You did not have enough shame in you to be humiliated, not when he was right. It was a mutually beneficial agreement.

“You do not have to be,” Prince Satoru blinked at you, gray lashes fluttered against the pads of his cheeks. “I take extreme pleasure in saving a damsel in distress,” Your lips puckered out, tireless with the need to tell him it wasn’t like that, and the Prince easily read through you, tugging you back into his arm as he laughed. “Even when I know you are not. Still, it does feel nice to take a walk in this fine day, don’t you think?”

You snorted at the heavy sarcasm under his sweet tone, “It feels a little embarrassing.”

“You feel embarrassed that you’re with me?”

“Yes,” you gritted at your teeth, the lace of your gloves digging into your flesh. You wanted nothing more than to rip it off, the material a silent reminder of the requirement that must be met to fool the crowd. “You’re a prince and I am—”

“I thought we already established titles mean nothing when we both mutually benefit from one another,” he cut you off, hands coming up to caress at your cheeks. You immediately froze at his touch, the iciness behind those eyes doing nothing to soothe you until he spoke, the Prince’s words oddly gentle and warm like the sun that shone down on you that fine day. “Worry not about that. I do not care what people think of you. All I care is that you do well and I shall do my part gracefully in return,” he declared for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

Back then, you never believed that people had power just because they were born with it. Power had to be manifested, trained, earned – yet Prince Satoru wielded it with his lips so effortlessly that in that moment, you believed magic really wasn’t a myth.

“Kiss me.”

“Wh-what?”

“Everyone is looking,” his eyes darted over the on looking crowd, his bare hand still caressing your warm cheeks, hot enough that it put the sun to shame. “Lest you want this plan to fail, I suggest you kiss me, darling. Passionately.”

The Crown Prince was right. Everyone was looking.

Your body’s response was instantaneous. A hiss of a breath, muscles tensed and fingers curled into a fist at your side; you could feel bile rising from your throat out of panic.

Then Prince Satoru leaned forwards, eyes snapped shut and his lips colliding with yours. The single touch had all the tension flooding away as you kissed the Prince, his lips tasting of cinnamon and sugar, vanilla and spice wafting off of him delicately that you had to fist at the collar of his shirt to prevent yourself from gobbling him up whole.

He would find that rather displeasing, claiming that you had little to no table manners, so you forced yourself to relax as he breathed air into your mouth, large hands cradled around your neck.

“I’ve got you,” he mumbled between kisses, the mere scent of royalty and forbidden elegance dripping off of him making you fearful to open your eyes. It felt illegal to touch the most wanted bachelor in your Kingdom this way, felt wrong to have his hands roaming down the slopes of your body while everyone looked at your shameless public display of faux romance. But if it was wrong, then why did he hold you so tenderly, not moving to push you away even as you nipped at his lips once more?

“You’re alright – I’ve got you.”

It was not easy being a no-name ballerina. You’ve crafted your skill for what seemed like your whole life, yet getting even a step closer to your dreams proved to be a daunting task. Even as your toes bruised and your muscles ached, pants heaved from your chest while you bended your body at will, you couldn’t stop thinking about how no one told you it was never easy to reach your dreams.

The fairytales had lied to you. They made it seem to easy to grab a star, never really explaining on how to be a star.

It felt so far away – the galaxy and universe you’d longer your entire life to be a part of – yet the Crown Prince stood at the corner of your studio, eyes dark as he watched you sway to the music.

A few weeks prior to your spontaneous arrangement, you were foolish enough to believe you could become that star easily. You were the lowest of ranks when it came to other girls; orphaned, no-named, broke, and loveless. 

Unlike your peers that were bred of the finest titles and fed with silver spoons, nannies and courts running after them in their growing years, you had to survive on scraps, taking three jobs at the young age of thirteen just to get into dance school and afford the fees.

You believed title or ranking shouldn’t have had to do anything with talent and worth, but then again, you were foolish beyond your years.

The moment you heard you were chosen to be the Black Swan of this season, allowing you to debut, you squealed behind your skirt, training day and night to the point you’ve skipped your meals just to perfect your routine.

That was until your classmates’ parents had come inside the school, twirling their moustaches behind soft fingers that had never known a day’s worth of work, belly round with cupcakes and all the delicacies only they were privileged enough to eat, the nervous laughter of your ballet master enough to let you know what it all meant.

Your classmate – the prettiest and the richest one – came rushing past you as she giggled over the announcement that she would be the Black Swan.

She was far many years younger than you, spoiled and with an attitude that tasted as bad as your leftovers, and definitely not skilled enough to debut – but of course, nothing was ever impossible enough with money, right? Before you could even defend yourself, your ballet master had cleaned out your quarters, your skirts and shoes thrown onto the muddy dirt while you cried under the rain, begging for another chance.

Second chances? You wanted to laugh.

Only people who did wrong should ask for it, and yet you sat there on your knees, hands clasped in a prayer that should only be reserved for wish bearers, desperate pleads of please don’t do this to me echoing into the empty night.

Was it fate then that the Crown Prince was half drunk inside his vehicle, shades slipping off his nose as he turned your way, your cries rudely interrupting the music blaring inside his car?

Perhaps it was – a cruel or a wonderful fate; no one could tell – the only thing that mattered now was that the Crown Prince had yet again found interest in a woman.

Only this time he didn’t lust after their body, wished nothing to do with their hands on his, completely sober around your presence as he watched you train endlessly in your studio, your sweat making your clothes stick like a second skin.

Prince Satoru leaned back against the walls then.

He should’ve brought a drink with him. Had he known that watching you dance sensually with such a blissed out expression he was mostly familiar with when he had his legs wrapped around another warm body would set his body alight, sober, then he would’ve left long ago.

Still, the Prince is rendered frozen at the edge, eyes trailing over your graceful form as you bended, legs flying out into the air while you arms dipped and curved into the most graceful of arcs and bows that put his combat figures into shame.

You weren’t even trying to seduce him and yet he was wholly captivated.

He wants to say that the woman he saw that rainy night and the woman stood before him now, figure bathed in the small slivers of sunlight that peeked through the blinds and stockings hugging each and every curve and dip of your body were entirely two different people, but the longer he looked, there was no mistaking it was still the same person. The passion burned through your eyes, the soft melodious tunes of the music guiding you – or rather you guiding the beat before you fluttered to another.

Prince Satoru smiled.

It first came off as a joke that he wanted to know more about you – his pretend lover – because everyone knew the Crown Prince was too frivolous to ever settle down and find interest in a woman beyond her looks. The confused pout you gave him as he followed you inside your studio burned at the back of his brain, a silent warning that you were different; that you were not someone he could touch lest he wished to burn and break you, though that would be a lie, it seemed.

For every strong ripple of your muscles and flowy movement of your body as you completely delved into the space of your own home and comfort, the Prince knew – you were not someone he could crush into the palm of his hands.

He came here out of boredom.

He left the studio with a confused heart, cheeks resting on his palm as he asked his chauffer, when is the next show?

The birds chirped above you, your fingers stretched out as you peeked from under it, lips pressed into a flat line. You were in the royal garden after persistent invitation from the Crown Prince himself. Speaking of, said Crown Prince had his limbs sprawled out beneath you, the edges of his hands slightly playing with the frills of your dress as he took his afternoon nap, a youthful smile on his face.

“Your Highness,” you huffed out, “What are we doing here? No one is looking. There is no need for us to continue our act.”

“I know,” he cheered a little too brightly for someone that looked to be deep in dreamland, “I just wanted to hang out with you without worrying about others. Not that I ever did, but it’s nice to be alone with you every once in a while. The prying eyes can get a bit too much.”

You hummed at the thought; he did have a point. This arrangement turned out to be a lot smoother than expected. The Crown Prince wasn’t lying about his intentions and not once had he laid a hand on you – without your permission, anyway – and he turned out to be…a lot more docile and easy going than what you originally thought of him. Not that you had much thoughts to begin with anyway, the Prince was a celebrity and therefore not someone that concerned you.

In your mind, he was merely your leader, more often than a not a name spoken between hushed whispers and dreamy moans.

This side of him was different, and all the time you’d spent him with was filled with nothing but ridiculed stares and taunts. The Crown Prince was a hilarious man who never feared trying out new things, always happy and eager to try exotic foods with you in the night markets or joining you in your spontaneous dancing during midnight ‘dates.’

He was the closest you could consider as a friend, and you relaxed against him, laying down on the flowery fields right next to him as you sighed in content. “I will miss this, Your Highness.”

“Miss what?”

“You and I – hanging out,” you mumbled a little dreamily, “I have a strong feeling things will finally get better for me. When I get scouted by a better company, I won’t be able to hang out with you anymore,” Silence befell the both upon you, the rustling of the wind against the flowers sounding like a far off memory. Soon, it would be. “I will miss this.”

“You could always call me. Or who knows, maybe I’d even drop by to watch your performances sometime.”

You snapped your eyes open, chuckling when the Prince had now sat up halfway, his regal face cradled in his hands while his elbow laid flat under him. He blinked innocently at you, and that’s when you realized – he was serious. That had you bursting into laughter, hands clutched at your stomach. “Please, you? You do not even enjoy ballerina!”

“I enjoy watching you,” he confessed in a heartbeat, his gaze falling from your crinkled eyes and all the way down to the silhouette of your body. “There’s something about the way you move that’s just so graceful and...phenomenal.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his heated gaze, the mere trails of his sight enough to warm your entire skin despite the cool wind. This was the Prince concerned though, and you had to guard your heart, eyes narrowed playfully at him while you desperately ignored the need to rub your thighs together.

“Are you flirting with me, Your Highness?”

The Prince snorted, “Flirt with you? My pretend girlfriend?” he clutched a hand at his chest as if the assumption offended him, “What makes you come to that conclusion?”

You chucked your handkerchief at him, still a little in disbelief that you were greeted by his laughter when it hit him right in the face.

You would miss this indeed.

Your gaze softened as you sat up, thighs pressed to your chest as you directed your gaze up in the sky. Prince Satoru may not always be around when the time came, but at least you still had the sky to remind you of this brazen and unexpected friendship that helped you grow.

“Thank you, though,” you squished your cheeks onto your knees, a lilted smile plastered on your face. “Dancing has always been a passion of mine. I can’t ever imagine a time of my life where I wasn’t moving with music. It almost feels as if I was destined with it; it speaks to me and deeper than the recesses of my bones, guides me until I’m one and entangled with it,” you ended with a dreamy sigh, turning your head to the side to look His Highness in the eye, stilling for a moment when you’re met with his solemn gaze.

Your throat parched dry. “Have you ever fallen in love with something like that before?”

“I don’t think so,” one of his shoulders lifted up in a lame shrug, voice turning deep and husky as he asked, “How do you know when you lack something or not?”

“If it comes to love...” you tapped your chin with a finger, “I think a life lived without one would feel quite empty. Hollow, I would say, and the skies would just be a plain blue instead of a calming yet mesmerizing one,” the courage that soared within you was an unexpected one, but it was enough to let you look him in the eye, form vulnerable and words slipping past your lips before you could control them. “If I were incapable of love, I’d say your eyes are nothing but gleams of sapphire.”

“And if you were capable of it? What would my eyes be?”

“Like cerulean galaxies crashing against one another,” you whispered, “Stardust sprinkled and heavens birthed out of passion and the desire to be something more. You’d be azure and brazen instead of crestfallen; the magnificence of the universe’s creation attesting to itself that it is wholly capable of designing divine beings.”

“Hmm,” he tipped his head to the side as he mulled over your words. His jacket was discarded somewhere along the grass, top three buttons of his shirt left opened and hair rustling with the wind. Beautiful, the image etched into your skin. “Are you sure you are a dancer and not a poet?”

“People say all sorts of beautiful things when they’re in love.”

The Prince straightened up, lips pursed. For a moment, you grew fearful, your heart frantically thumping in your chest as you thought, this is it – this is when he pushes you away. He does nothing of this as he scoots closer to you, using his rough thumb to tilt your chin until you were looking up at him, wide eyes sparkling – the sight of you vulnerable like this making the Crown Prince lick his lips.

“If you were in love,” he began, voice barely above a whisper, “What would be the most beautiful thing those lips of yours would utter?” You shivered as his thumb moved up to graze at your bottom lip, almost prompting it to jut out, to which you happily complied with a shaky breath. “What would you say then?”

“Your name.”

The Prince smiled to himself at your hearty answer. To hide both of your nervous chuckles, the Prince took it upon himself to ease both your worries as he kissed you, nothing but the warmth and fluttering of butterflies rampaging in your stomach mixing at his sweet taste.

Beautiful, you hummed into his mouth. You could fall for as long as you wanted, but would the Prince ever fall from grace as he moaned into your mouth, tugging you until you were situated in his lap, arms wrapped tight enough around you in refusal to let you go? Maybe, your mind sighed, hands tugging at his hair when the Prince kissed you fervently, murmuring one word that made you melt right then and there.

Beautiful, he finds you.

Both your loud laughter echoed in his training grounds, the horses’ hooves padding against the firm earth. “Not fast enough, my Lady,” he taunts, his smile bright and wide as he sat perched atop his white stallion. “How would you catch my heart if you cannot ride faster?”

“I will catch up to you, just wait and see! Not everyone grew up riding horses, you know?”

“I bet a fine coin you do ride well, though, my Lady,” he remarked with a wink, his statement enough to tap the sides of your feet harder against your horse to catch after him.

“Your Highness!”

As you two chased around each other the wide field, carefree laughter and clothes swaying against the wind, skin warm from the flush of the sun, the Crown Prince’s servants stood at the side.

A particular woman – the servant that had been loyal long before the Prince was born – remained under a parasol, her wrinkled face tight with a frown.

“How nauseating,” she scrunched her nose, arms crossed on her chest. “To think I dedicated my life into raising the little prince to be a fine king someday, and his future would be tainted by a lowly performer who cannot even make a name for herself,” turning to one of the young boy servants, she narrowed her eyes at you. “Where does she work again? Is she of name?”

“She is an orphan, Madam, taken in at a young age in a dance school before she had to pay the fees herself, if the rumors are correct. I heard that she and His Highness met when she was kicked out by her own ballet master due to her stealing the original Black Swan spot for this season’s show.”

His old nanny’s face grew more gruesome. “Wasn’t the Black Swan supposed to be one of the Earl’s daughters?”

“Yes. Rumours had it that His Highness’ new plaything seized the spot to prove herself. Look at how that plan backfired.”

“How repulsive,” she spat out, venom laced in her tongue.

The roles had reversed, the Crown Prince insistent in catching you this time around, and you rode after him with panicked laughter, hands clutched tight on the reins. Although you’d only swished past the small group of servants that always seemed to be around, you’d heard enough.

“We must protect His Highness at all costs before this wretched woman rips his future away from him. The fate of the kingdom lies on his shoulders; we cannot afford him making mistakes.”

“Indeed, Madam.”

You stopped in your tracks until the horse slowed down with confused huffs, your Prince following behind you not long afterwards. Looking back at him again, you were no longer able to smile at him genuinely, not when discomfort, and most of all shame, had to be forced down deep into your system. Beautiful, you resigned, he was too beautiful.

His servants were right. Maybe you really were ruining everything for him. His reputation was frowned upon to begin with for his less than infamous sexual endeavors, that he was more often sighted in casinos and bars instead of his study room.

The barrack guards had grown tired and weary of trying to stop the Crown Prince from leaving the royal grounds. No matter what they did, he always found a way to escape.

The only difference this time around was that their Prince no longer frequented such sinful places and met with women of all titles and backgrounds. No, this time, the Prince leapt from the tall walls that had never been much of a challenge considering his tall frame, not bothering to get a car or even a horse as he dashed straight to your studio.

Sweat dripped down from your face as you slammed a fist on the floor, tears about to erupt. You couldn’t complete this routine that you were so close into perfecting.

Your mind was simply just in a mess.

There was a conflicting war inside you – one with your heart that yearned to stay longer in His Highness’ presence out of mere selfishness, and one with your mind that told you it was dishnoroubale to taint his name like this. The last thing you wanted was to destroy and push both of you even further into falling from grace; both reputations and name already tarnished.

You’d truly be heartless if you kept going on.

But that didn’t change the fact that you were feeling comfortable with him, having found home in the Crown Prince’s warm arms and spontaneous kisses of all places.

Was it absurd? Undoubtedly so.

Could it be helped? You certainly could try.

And you’d been doing a great job so far; quite a daunting task you patted yourself in the back for. Avoiding the Prince when he’d made it clear he also enjoyed your company proved a lot harder than reaching your dreams, but you pushed through, locking yourself in the unused studio and training day and night.

It wasn’t working well – not on your part, anyway. You’d been here for hours, your clothes uncomfortably sticking to your skin and your water bottles were all emptied.

You’d never felt this tired.

You fell on your knees, palms flat on the floor and sweat salty as it trailed down to your lips. With a groan, you untied your shoes off and stared at the bruised and blued toes, a witness to the countless years of hard work. Your lip quivered as you massaged the sore muscles, tears about to spill as you remembered the Prince.

Beautiful, he was, flawless and porcelain in each movement and breath.

But you? You were battered, scarred, broken and bruised – why would he want you of all people? It was clear he’s had multiple lovers before you. No, scratch that, you were never a lover to begin with. It was all a sham, an agreement formed out of lame survival. There was no beauty in a lie.

The music playing from your stereo kept repeating on loop, this time the tune no longer unrecognizable as your soft cries echoed around the studio. You weren’t beautiful – not enough for him, at least – everyone made that very clear to you.

Just as you wiped your tears away at the back of your hand, standing up to continue another set as you refused to come back home without completing one perfect routine, the doors slammed open. Heavy breathing entered afterwards and you scowled – you worked tooth and bone to claim this place as yours, who dared enter? “This studio is private—” your words fell dry on your skin when a tuft of white hair trudged over to you, his usual placid face replaced with a firm sneer. “Y-Your Highness?”

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

His voice was nothing but demanding, the authority behind them only natural and befitting for someone like him. Each step he took forwards equated to a step backward until your back hit the mirrors, eyes wide as you gazed up at him.

Your voice came out weak. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t act like I’m stupid,” he pointed a finger at you, then scoffed, hands running through the soft locks of his air while he shook his head. You stood there grasping at your tights; having never seen the Prince lose his composure before. “I know you’ve been avoiding me. Every time I try to contact you, you never respond. When I ask your friends where you’ve been, they all tell me you’re busy practicing.”

Somehow, you managed to find your voice again, tone heavy and biting. “I am busy practicing, do you not see that?”

“It’s not the only thing you’re occupied with. Clearly, you are quite determined to stay away from me too,” he bellowed, his loud voice bouncing back from the emptiness of the room. The booming sound must’ve snapped him back to consciousness because Prince Satoru sighed, stepping closer until his warm hand cupped your cheek, starry blue eyes filled with worry and anguish. Had you caused this?

Beautiful, you frowned, that even in his demise he managed to look like fine art. “Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?” he softened, breath warm on your lips. “If yes, then tell me and I’ll do everything it takes to make up for it.”

You fisted his shirt; cheek faced his way because you couldn’t look him in the eye right now. There was no way you’d let him see you cry.

“I don’t understand you, Your Highness,” you murmured, “You’re about to be King – why do you bother yourself with someone like me? I’m nothing compared to you, and I detest being compared to you for I am more than worthy despite not being born of a high ranking like yours.”

Prince Satoru froze. “Is this what this is about? My title bothers you?”

“We should stop whatever we’re doing,” was all you said, pushing him away as gently as you could, ignoring the gnawing pain that grew inside of you when your palms landed on his chest. “It is lowly of me to take advantage of the Crown Prince’s kindness anyway. My success should be paved out of my own hard work and not because of my lame connections to the Crown Prince.”

“Lame connections? Is that all I am to you?”

“You are my Crown Prince, Your Highness,” you reminded him of the stark difference firmly, “You mean a lot to your people, but I do not mean anything to you. I am just another nameless performer lost in the crowd of a thousand other girls who wish to reach their dreams, even if such a star is far beyond our reach,” Tears had now fallen until they formed into crystals on your cheeks, and he blinked back, unsure of what to do. “Could you ever understand what that feels like? To yearn for something you know you could never have but hope for anyway?”

“It would be a lie if I said I did,” he admitted quietly, “But I think I’m beginning to understand. It would make sense to me now – if you keep pushing me away, that is.”

You shook your head begrudgingly. “Your Highness...we shouldn’t.”

“And why not? Who said we couldn’t?”

You don’t stop him this time when he stepped closer once more, trapping you between his arms until you clutched desperately at his shirt, his erratic heartbeat pulsing under your touch. “It’s just you and I – neither a prince nor a performer – simply man and woman who crave each other’s touch. What could be so wrong into giving into one’s desires?” you gasped when his lips fell at the juncture of your neck, your head immediately tilting to the side as you allowed him to ravage you. “You still haven’t given me the chance to let you know what I feel,” he cradled your jaw, caressing your skin as he breathed you’re your ear, voice low and sultry, begging even, “Would you really deny me the pleasure of showing you how beautiful you are to me right now?”

“Satoru,” you keened at his teeth tugging at your skin, fists clenched on shirt. “Touch me.”

“That’s all I ever wanted to do, darling.”

Satoru swept down to capture your lips in his, his grip firm on the swell of your ass he kept you close to him, pressed hip to hip and his hardened front grazing your core through the tights. He pulled a moan from you as he flipped your body over, lips finding home in your neck while his large hand cupped your breast, the other trailing down to finger at your clothed, damp pussy.

In this angle, you could see the despondent way you easily spread your legs for him, your pants like music to ears.

“Do you still not believe me when I say you are worth more than a pound of gold? Look at you – your dripping cunt shines harder than the diamonds I keep in my room,” the both of you groaned when he pushed a finger through your hole, your tights stretching and sucked in by your walls enough to outline the arousal that seeped through. “Maybe I should keep you instead, hmm, don’t you think? You’d be a far grander treasure than all those riches.”

“I am a woman,” you tugged at his hair, panting heavily as he kept fingering into you, his thumb grazing at the sensitive bundle of nerves that swelled under your tight clothes. “I am not to be reduced to a possession you acquire.”

“No, of course not. Nothing could ever replace you in this world,” he growled, harsh in his movements as he tore your clothes with minimal effort.

You yelped when your precious tights had been ripped to the sides, a hole revealing your core and your breasts barely covered with the flimsy fabric. Satoru shuffled his pants down before placing you right on his cock, swallowing your moans with each inch of his length that slid inside you.

Hands dug painfully into his hair, Satoru hissed at the pain, grinning to himself at how wet you were through just light touches and a sloppy kiss. You’ve been good for him, though, you were always good for him that he had to reward you, show you how beautiful you were, and he spread his legs apart, relishing in the sight of you being fucked onto his cock.

“Nothing feels better than your tight pussy, huh? Take a good look at yourself, you’re so fucking precious, taking me so well,” you could only moan in response, unable to take your eyes off the way his length disappeared inside you, a shiver chilling your spine when he grasped at your breasts, nipples tweaked between his fingers. “Nothing, nothing, nothing could compare to this. You feel like heaven, taste like bliss and forgiveness,” he licked at the salty sweat that drowned your body, one of his hands now rolling your clit between his fingers. You screamed, bouncing yourself harder on him with your nails dug deep into his thighs. “You will be the redemption of my darkened soul, are you not?”

“Maybe I will be,” you cried out, head lolled onto his shoulder.

Satoru hummed, his eyes dark and coated with lust when your breasts bounced in front of the mirror. Thanks to years of dancing, you barely felt a stretch when Satoru suddenly lifted your legs up until your thighs were embarrassingly squished against your chest. You knew why he did this; it wasn’t that hard to understand why when he narrowed his focus on the way your juices slipped down his cock, the sounds of your pussy squelching drowning out the operatic music.

Satoru kissed your cheeks to wipe your previous tears away, his hands nothing but grabby and possessive as he gripped the flesh of your thigh. “You already are, sweet thing.”

Pleasure had completely taken over you at this point, that familiar heat building up in your stomach until it snapped into two. Pupils blown wide open, you gasped as you came all over him, your cum creaming down onto his cock until it lined with a thick ring of cum.

It was filthy to say the least, and your body burned at the thought that you were disrespecting him, defiling him with the mess you’ve made. But the Prince only fucked into you harder, his teeth grazing at your already abused skin with relentless and merciless thrusts. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d show you how beautiful he found you, going hell and beyond because you felt nothing but worshipped when he kissed you feverishly, his moans romantic as he came. “S-Satoru!”

“That’s right,” he slipped a finger, the stretch adding a slight tinge of pain that had your hips rutting out in sensitivity, your hole clenching around his everything. “Cum for me. Come on, I know you can do it for me. You’re so good, sweetheart, come for me.”

You were mindlessly babbling his name as both of you came down from your highs. Satoru doesn’t stop once from running hands everywhere, gripping your hips, flicking your nipples, rubbing your clit, and running a finger down your slit to wipe your juices everywhere. It had become too much that you had to push his hand away, legs locking around his arms that refused to stop cupping your pussy.

“Do you see how beautiful you are?” he cooed, shameless and teasing when he brought his hands up to your face, fingers stretched to show the webbing of your arousal between them. “We made such a mess,” he chuckled, his kisses a lot softer now on your neck.

Beautiful, you whimpered internally as you fluttered around nothing.

Satoru must’ve grown an addiction to kissing your lips for he dived in one last time, murmuring the word you always tied him with until they felt printed, tattooed, on your skin. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to bask in this, your kisses slow and sensual as you both enjoyed this serene moment.

He came to this studio to prove you something.

He left the studio with a swelling heart, cheeks resting on your breast as he wrapped his arms around you in the comfort of your worn-out mattress as he asked, can I stay here longer with you?

The cheers and applause directed your way were deafening, the spotlight blinding as you bowed. You gasped for air, every muscle in your body screaming both with delight and exhaustion.

You could barely fathom the crowd hidden in darkness before you, the sight like a black sea, but instead of feeling like you were drowning, you don’t think you’d ever been able to breathe this well before. The smile on your face was bright – brighter than the star you’ve become and bigger than the galaxy and universe you’ve made for yourself – and you waved your arm gracefully, toes pointed outwards while the roses and flowers thrown your way came flooding like a waterfall.

You’d made it.

And through the crowd, at the back where someone the likes of him wasn’t supposed to be, His Majesty’s white hair stuck out like a sore thumb. His draperies were replaced with finer ornaments of gold embroidery, those large hands that had grown accustomed to holding yours and marking handprints on your delicate skin covered with gloves as he applauded, following the crowd from where they all stood.

Your smile directed him was nothing less of a beam, the stars he’d hung for you reflecting back in your eyes. Tears blurred the vision of him for a moment until you saw him again – crystal clear – his expression both proud and longing.

The memory of you and him had been a beautiful one, but it was distant and with each passing day, it blurred until it became nothing like swirls of I love you’s and good luck’s whispered onto one another’s skin. Your heart still soared and broke each time at the sight of him, the majestic Queen hanging off the arm that was locked with yours just years ago a painful reminder that there would always be an invisible divide between you and the Prince you’d fallen in love with.

There was no regret, however, in where things had led. You knew he loved his kind wife as much as he loved you, and he knew you loved him as much as you loved your career, and things were simply just…meant to be this way, you concluded.

It was never supposed to be a great love story that told of breaking traditions. Not all stories were meant to go against the odds; some were told to show that people could be capable of change without having to change anything. You were thankful, still so extremely grateful you met your beloved Prince even as he left the theatre before people crowded around him, leaving you to your devices until you retired back into the changing room, a set of rare flowers only a certain person could afford.

Beautiful, you cried as you picked up the card, his once messy scrawls improved into a neater cursive befitting for the new King.

And so it was that you parted ways, with him leading his country into further prosperity while you moved away and stole people’s hearts with each phenomenal show, one after the other.

Your summer rendezvous with the Prince was not meant to be a love story that went against all odds; you were there to save each other from reaching damnation, loving one another as passionately as your souls were able to until you picked each other back up.

Once the other stood firm, tall, and ready to take on the world with their bare hands, you pushed one another in your respective directions.

Beautiful, you smiled as you clutched at his present close to your heart where he’d built a garden out of itself, that we’d saved each other from falling from grace.

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[forever-rogue]

Oblivious

A/N | This is just a little sweet fluff with Buckaroo. It’s also a late little happy birthday for @falcor-thee-luck-dragon! I hope you (and everyone else) enjoys!

Summary | You’d think Bucky wouldn’t be so oblivious but...he was. 

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.9k

Warnings | language

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky Barnes was a man of many talents and had a vast knowledge of a variety of things. Sometimes, however, things were so obvious and clear that they went right over his head. You could hit him in the face with a 2x4 and he wouldn’t know what happened oblivious. Like the fact that you, his girlfriend of almost a year, had the strange and peculiar ability to communicate with animals. You’d never hid it, nor explicitly told him about it, thinking it would be funny to see how long it would take him to catch on. 330 days (and counting) in and he hadn’t.

Bucky grabbed his phone, scrolling through his social media feeds quickly before pulling up Spotify and turning to his secret indulgence playlist - classical Italian Opera. Yeah. It was just a thing he had happened to really like for no particular reason. The only other living souls in his apartment with him were Archie, your black and white speckled mutt and Alpine, Bucky’s snow white cat. You were currently out of town for work and had asked Bucky if he minded watching Archie, to which he had of course said yes. It was no secret that Archie loved Bucky almost as much as you and vice versa - he was the goodest boy as Bucky had proclaimed. Plus, the cat and dog got along like they were old best friends. 

Trailing into the bathroom, he stripped off his t-shirt and pajama pants as Archie laid on the bed and offered him a dismissal look. Alpine was tucked into his side as she slept soundly, paying no attention to her owner. 

As he turned on the shower and let the water warm up, he finished stripping off his clothes before deciding to sing along with his music as best as he could. Bucky didn’t speak Italian. It showed. But he was passionate about giving it all as he got ready to take on the day. Archie groaned as Bucky hit a particularly high note, burying his face under the soft duvet. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You ever gonna ask her the question?” Sam raised an eyebrow at Bucky as the two men walked alongside the creek. Bucky had decided that ice cream and a walk for Archie were called for, so he’d taken advantage of the nice weather and gone outside. Missing your company, despite you only having been gone for a few days, he’d called up Sam and convinced him to meet up. Not that it took much convincing; the men were as thick as thieves, no matter how much they denied it. Co-workers, partners - best friends. 

“Umm,” Bucky’s eyes widened as he almost choked on his ice cream, awkwardly coughing to cover up his nerves. Sam just snickered in response as he realized he already had his answer. After a moment he slowly nodded, “I have the ring...it’s been sitting in the sock drawer.”

“Sock drawer,” Sam snorted and shook his head as a flush of red colored Bucky’s neck and ears, “classic. When are you going to do it?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky sighed as he broke off a piece of waffle cone and handed it to Archie, who had been listening in very intently, “I want to...but what if it’s too soon. We technically don’t even live together yet-”

“Doesn’t she like to spend her time at yours? She’s practically moved in...most of the stuff at your place is hers anyway,” Sam reminded him as Bucky made a small, noncommittal sound. It was true - when you’d first met Bucky his place had been minimal and bare. Now, with your time and touch, it felt like a home; a home you had lovingly built with him. Sam bumped Bucky’s shoulder with his, “just get it all done in one swoop. She’ll say yes.”

Archie made a small sound, agreeing with Sam as he rubbed his snout against Bucky’s thigh. He visibly relaxed as he nodded, hoping that this would be enough to psych him up, “I’ll think about it-”

“No thinking about it,” Sam tutted gently, “you’re going to do it. You’ve been a fool - a straight up head over heels in love fool - since you’ve met her. You’re going to ask.”

“Sam…”

“How long have you had the ring?”

“Sam.”

“Bucky.”

“A few weeks after we started dating,” Bucky cast his glance at the ground as warmth flushed up in his cheeks. He’d expected Sam to burst out in laughter, but luckily the other man said nothing, but a smile stretched across his features, “it seems so silly but you know..I just felt like I knew.”

“Sometimes you do,” Sam agreed, putting his arm around his shoulder and pulling him for a quick hug, “you just gotta do it, Buck. She won’t say no.”

Archie barked in response, looking between the two men, wagging his tail excitedly. Sam offered him a few pets before nodding in response.

“She comes home in a few days,” he couldn’t wait to pick you up from the airport and have you jump into his arms while he finally got to hold you again, “I’ve got until then to pluck up the courage.”

“Just don’t lay it on her right away…” Sam snorted as he picked Bucky running up to you immediately pouring his heart out to you. Not a good idea, “give her a moment to be calm and breath.”

“Shut up,” Bucky huffed as he finished the rest of his ice cream, “I’ve got this!”

“We’re all counting on that!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Bucky set the empty popcorn bowl back on the coffee table as he tried not to sniffle too loudly. His eyes were misty and burning with unshed tears as he watched whatever cheesy romance he had randomly selected. He pulled the soft blanket he was curled up in higher, savoring the fact that it still managed to have a faint bit of your smell on it. Alpine was curled up on the back of the couch, snoozing away while Archie was laying next to him, his head resting on Bucky’s thigh. He was on and off sleeping, but had peeped open an eye when he first heard Bucky sniffle. 

“They’re in love,” he whispered gently, unsure if he was speaking to himself or talking to his furry companions. He was scratching Archie’s ears as he watched the scenes play out on the screen, “but they can’t be together. Their families would never allow it.”

Archie huffed lightly as he burrowed further into Bucky’s touch. It was the first time he’d seen the man get so emotional over the movie. Bucky had feelings, plenty of them, of course, but there was something about the movie he’d picked, combined with how much he was missing you that caused him to just lose it. It was like the dam had burst and his emotions were out of control.

He sat back and watched the rest of the movie in silence, a few tears running down his cheeks as he watched the love story play out. By the end of the movie, Archie was fully in his lap and Alpine was resting on his chest, “he left everything behind for her, so they could start a new life together far away. They really were next to meant to be together. It’s beautiful.”

The furry little ones were absolutely  going to tell you about this. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Archie yawned and slowly stretched before hopping down from the couch and heading towards Bucky’s bedroom. He tried to nose the door open as he learned to do, but was stopped when he found that it was closed all the way. His head tilted in curiosity and whined softly as he tried to see if Bucky was awake so he would let him in. 

As soon as he did, the dog regretted it. All he could hear coming from inside was the soft sounds coming from Bucky. Soft moans and sounds and gentle whispers of your name. His eyes widened as the dog took off down the hall and ran back into the living room, flopping down on his dog bed and cuddling up to Alpine as he tried to empty his mind. All the poor dog had wanted to do was to sleep in the big soft bed - not be scarred for life. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Bucky!” as soon as you’d gotten cleared and walked through arrivals and gotten your single bag, you’d kept your eyes peeled for Bucky. It didn’t take long to find him, standing near the back, blue eyes scanning the arrivals with a hopeful little smile on his face. You almost dropped your bag as you ran over to him. As soon as you were in arm’s reach, you dropped everything to the ground, and Bucky effortlessly scooped you up in his arms. You threw your arms around his neck as he held you in a tight embrace, “James. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” he sighed in content, happy to have you in his arms once again. Everything about you set his soul on fire, as he held onto you as tightly as possible. After a moment, he slowly set you back down, but not before peppering your face in gentle kisses, “you’re so beautiful.”

“Bucky,” you reached up and gently touched his cheek, “you’re too much. I’m so glad to be home.”

“Not quite yet.”

“Sure I am,” you insisted quietly, “I’m here with you. You’re my home, Bucky.”

The small velvet box was practically burning a hole in his pocket as you looked at him like he was everything - your whole world (he was). Unable to form a proper sentence, he  grabbed your face and pulled you close to him, crashing his lips onto yours, kissing you like you weren’t in the middle of a crowded airport. He could feel you smiling against his lips, reluctantly breaking apart from you only once you were both breathless. 

“What was that for?” you asked shyly, feeling your face flush with warmth as he picked up your bags for you. You were watching him with pure adoration as he reached for your hand and laced your fingers together. 

“Nothing,” he shrugged softly, “jus’ missed you is all, pretty girl.”

“I missed you too, Bucky,” you promised, “I love you.”

“I love you more than all the moon and stars, pretty girl.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What?” you asked as Archie came into the kitchen and sat down, watching you intently as you finished up the cookies you had been working. Bucky was busy with Sam that afternoon, so you’d decided to make a little sweet treat for both of you. You’d been home for a few days and fallen into an easy routine, having opted to stay with Bucky for the time being rather than going back to your own place, “you’ve got something to say, I can tell.”

Just missed you. I like when you’re home, you and Bucky. And Alpine. 

“I missed you too, buddy,” you promised, leaning over to his head a gentle pet, “did you have fun while I was gone?”

Yes. Bucky takes good care of me. I like Alpine too. She’s nice.

“I happen to like them a lot too,” you grinned at your friend, “I’m glad you do too. I think...I really love him, Archie. I think, no, I know - he’s the one.”

He thinks so too. He told Sam you’re the one - and us too. 

“Really?” you almost dropped the cookies you were plating up in surprise as you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from squealing in excitement, “you’re not messing with me, are you?”

It’s true. He’s got...well, you’ll see. He likes romance movies apparently. And singing opera.

“Oh?”

He was watching a movie. He ate two bowls of popcorn and cried. He let me and Alpine sit on him though so it was okay. He sings opera when he showers in the morning. He’s not good but he tries.

“Archie! Don’t be a meanie,” you chuckled as you tried to picture the scene. It would have been hilarious to see. You’d always known Bucky had a soft side, you just didn’t know how soft, “but I will remember that and use it to my advantage when I want to watch a cheesy movie.”

Please do. He gives good pets when he’s in that mood. He always gives good pets.

“He’s a good man,” you grinned as you reached over the counter for a good treat that you easily tossed to him, “I really love him.”

He really loves you. One night I...never mind.

“No, no,” you shook your head as you waggled another treat at him, “out with it! Or I’ll hide all of your treats!”

Fine. But you didn’t hear it from me - I wanted to sleep in the big bed one night and the door was closed and I heard him. He was...saying your name.

Your brows narrowed in confusion for a moment as you pulled another treat out and twirled it in your fingers for a moment. Then you hit you, what he had meant, “oh. Oh. That is...good to know, I suppose.”

Not for me. I just wanted to sleep, not...hear that.

“Sorry buddy,” you snorted as you handed him another treat, “that will stay between us. Besides...he still doesn’t know we can communicate. I wonder if he’ll ever put two and two together?”

You could just tell him.

“But where’s the fun in that?” you teased as the door opened and Bucky walked in, a giant grin on his face. You looked at Archie and shot him a wink before turning to Bucky, “hello, my love. You’re just in time! Cookies are done and cooled!”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Bucky came over and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before petting Archie, “I love you. Is someone here? I could have sworn you were talking to someone…”

“Nope,” you (half) lied, covering up with a brilliant smile, “just me and the dog and cat.”

“Oh,” he shrugged, thinking it was just his imagination, “what’s all this? Cookies -  whatever for?”

“Just because I love you,” you grinned as Archie groaned and laid down, “both of you!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stopped for a moment to catch your breath as you reached one of the peaks of the small mountain you and Bucky were hiking. It was a glorious day so you’d decided there was no better plan than to get out and enjoy nature. He had no problem at any point, even offering to piggy back you when you’d grown tired; you’d just defiantly stuck your tongue out at the super soldier and carried on. 

“This view is absolutely breathtaking,” you looked over the small cliff, admiring the tranquil expanse of the woods in front of you. Bucky was at your side, his eyes on you the entire time.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a grin, “it’s pretty amazin’.”

“Bucky,” you turned around and rolled your eyes at him as he pulled you in for a kiss, causing you to break into a fit of giggles, “I’m all gross and sweaty!”

“Don’t care,” he insisted as his hands found purchase on your waist and pulled you closer against him, his lips already ghosting over yours, “jus’ want you, baby.”

“Bucky,” his name was soft on your lips, but before anything else could happen, you were stopped by a small, almost nervous little voice from up above. 

Umm, hi! I don’t want to interrupt but…

You pulled back from Bucky for a moment before looking at the tree, where you found a small squirrel sitting on a branch and watching you both. Bucky was surprised for a moment but calmed when you gave his shoulder a squeeze and gently moved past him and towards your new friend.

“Hi,” you smiled at her and offered a smile, picking up an acorn and handing it over to her, “is everything alright?”

Oh yes. I just wanted to let you know there’s a big group of people coming. If you want some privacy you should go somewhere more secluded! They’re pretty loud, I don’t like big groups.

“Oh!” you giggled as you could only imagine the awkward scenario if you’d been caught, “thanks for the heads up! We’ll definitely get out of here. I’m sorry you have to deal with all the noise.”

It’s okay. I’m going back to my nest now! If you go down the hill, there’s a more private path that leads back down the mountain. There’s signs if you need them.

“Why thank you,” you grinned as you reached up and she let you pet her, “you’ve been very helpful. Maybe one day we’ll see each other again.“

No problem. I hope so too! Thank you for the acorn!

“Anytime,” you promised as she scurried away with her new treasure. You shook your head in amusement as you turned back around to Bucky, to find him watching you with wide eyes. He wasn’t quite sure what had just happened, almost wondering if he was hallucinating. Had you just gone mad and tried to speak to a squirrel? You laughed lightly at the shocked look on his features,  “oh.”

“What was...what was that?” he asked as you rejoined him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His eyes were still scanning the branch the small squirrel had just occupied. 

“She was just warning us that there’s a group of hikers coming our way and we should find someplace more private,” you said as if it was no big deal. It didn’t help Bucky in the slightest.

“She? A warning...how….That was a squirrel!”

“I was wondering if you’d ever put two and two together,” you laughed, almost doubling over in laughter, “I...Bucky, I don’t know how or why but I can communicate with animals.”

“You can….how long?!”

“Ever since I’ve been a child?” you held up your hands in earnest, “its something I’ve always been able to do. I don’t advertise it, obviously because people generally think I’m crazy, but I would think you of all people understand. It’s just been...fun to wait and see if you’d ever figure it out.”

“All those times…” he ran a hand over his face in exasperation and disbelief as you watched him in amusement. He was a brilliant, smart man but sometimes he was so oblivious. You couldn’t love him anymore if you tried, “it wasn’t just...a one sided conversation. It all makes sense now. Wow, that’s amazing! What a wonderful thing to possess.”

“I’ve always liked it,” you agreed, “it’s different, you know? But special in its own way.”

“Wait…” he mused for a moment, “so all those times...oh. H-how much have Archie and Alpine told you? Have they always talked to you?”

“Yup,” you crossed your arms over your chest, as you watched his neck and ears turn red, “those two in particular are very animated and over the top. They’re the worst little gossip duo. Almost like you and Sammy.”

“Of course they are,” he groaned as you reached for his hand and pulled him towards. He gave you a sheepish grin as you pressed a light kiss to his knuckles, “they told you about the movie, huh?”

“Archie,” you confirmed, “but he did say you gave him the best pets.”

“Did he tell about...oh no,” this time his whole face was a brilliant crimson, “I-I…”

“Oh stop,” you teased, “I’m flattered and honored. It’s not like I don’t do the same when I’m not with you.”

“Really?” he perked up with pride as you just nodded in amusement, “well then. Wait - did he tell you about Sam?”

“He said you went on a walk with him but that was it,” you shrugged, “nothing really. I do know that he loves you and Alpine very much. And so do I, obviously.”

“Okay,” he relaxed slightly as you took his hand and started to lead him towards the more secluded path your little squirrel had told you about. The box in his pocket was once again burning a hole, “good.”

“Everything okay, Bub?” you asked as he just nodded, lips pursed as he fell into step behind you. Something was definitely off, but you weren’t going to push him on it. If anything, you knew he’d come around and speak his mind about what was going on. He usually always did. 

A silence, one neither tense nor uncomfortable, fell over the two of you as you walked down the quiet trail. It was beautiful - lush greenery and newly bloomed plants everywhere. At one point you stopped and pulled out your phone to take a few pictures of the natural beauty. Bucky had been so lost in his own thoughts, his heart practically pounding in his chest and consuming every part of him that he almost bowled into you and knocked you over. 

“James!” it was somewhere between a groan and laugh as he caught you in his arms in order to keep you from tumbling into a bunch of bushes. You were face to face with Bucky, looking at him intently as he steadied you,  “alright, something’s up. Come on - out with it. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I umm...marry me?” all the speeches he had gone over and planned wet out the window as he just stared at you with nervous eyes. You’d been so taken aback by his sudden question that you took a step back and gave him a curious expression. Bucky’s stomach was in absolute knots as he wondered if he’d just fucked everything up.

“W-what?” your voice was a small squeak, as you tried to see if he was just pulling your leg. But his gaze never wavered, “what did you just ask me?”

“I…” he stopped over a moment before reaching into his pocket with trembling hands and pulling out a small box. Your eyes widened in response as you realized that was not joking at all, further evidenced when he popped it open and showed you the ring inside. Your mouth dropped open when it all came together, “I thought the whole proposal would go a lot differently than this but umm...yeah. Will you marry me? That’s what I’m trying to ask...I’m glad Archie hadn’t spoiled that for you.”

“No,” you shook your head as you already felt tears pricking at your eyes, “he definitely didn’t. I thought he might have been holding something back, but I...I had no idea.”

“I know it hasn’t even been a year yet, but I feel like when you know someone 's the one..you know,” he admitted softly, “and I know you’re the one. The one I want to spend the rest of my life with, the one I want to call my wife...my everything.”

“James,” you looked between him and the ring a few more times before swallowing the lump in your throat, “gods, I am so in love with you. There was never a doubt in my mind that it was meant to be you. Yes, of course yes.”

“Really?!”

“Of course,” you beamed at him, “I love you, Bucky. You’re my forever.”

“Forever,” he breathed softly, “I like the sound of that.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes

[crohno]

LITTLE RABBIT. [ A - Simon/Soft!Reader ]

Summary: Your foolproof plan to hide from intruders suddenly isn't so foolproof. Warnings:  N/A. Prompt: A is for ATTIC.

A/N:  Got an idea to do a bunch of chronological one-shots detailing the relationship that blossoms between Simon and an Innocent!Reader.  I very much enjoy the badass-meets-badass stuff on here and A03, and actually think it's way more realistic than what I'm doing, but I wanted to try something a bit different and do some power-trippy/unlikely romance type deals with a character I've come to love. I kinda want the reader to be a lot softer-- and exploit the hell out of it. 

There’ll be some canon-divergence in that I’ll be making shit up about The Sanctuary and the Reader's role within it, and there’ll be a mix of fluff, angst and smut for you to enjoy.

Like my work?  Tip me! Want a tailored fic?  Pay me to do it!

Your mother used to say that you don't have a mean bone in your body.  Given the things you've done to survive the rise of the undead, you don't know if that's still true  -  but you certainly don't hurt the living whenever you can help it.  You were always a gentle soul, and though the carnage has left you with chinks in your armour, you refuse to succumb to the ugliness around you.  It's cost you supplies before;  it's cost you weapons and ammo and sleeping bags;  but it hasn't cost you your soul.

Not yet at least.

When you hear voices on the ground floor of your house, your first instinct is to hide, not fight.  Your place has already been ransacked several times over  - not to mention you've used most of what was here in the first place - but it won't stop them from looking.  You know this even without waiting to see what they look like, or how many of them there are. 

You creep up the steps to the attic, using the unfolding commotion on the ground floor as cover to pull the ladder back into place and seal the trapdoor shut.  You've done this several times over and nobody has thought to check it once.  They likely won't even notice the cord either, in their haste to scavenge useful goods.

The attic is decently furnished in your opinion.  It used to be full of nothing but junk–  old boxes full of ancient photographs and toys from your childhood–  but after the world ended, you'd used most of it as kindling after the power had gone out.  It left you with a cavernous space to fill, and fill it you did.  Blankets;  cushions;  fairy lights;  old mementos that remind you of all the people you've loved and lost;  all the books you'd never had the chance to read before the turn;  what little is left of your rations.  It isn’t much in terms of grand furniture and fancy lighting, but it’s cosy and comfortable and free of the dead.  That’s all you can ask for in times like these.

You shuffle as you hear heavy boots ascending the steps to the upper level of the house.  It’s inappropriate, but it makes you miss your dad.  He’d always been more lumber than man, but he'd been gentle and sweet.  He was the very definition of a benefactor.  He’d died protecting you.

“There’s a cord.”

You freeze up, a knot forming in your stomach as you listen to two men discuss the attic in vague murmurs.  Whoever is leading them doesn't sound convinced that there's anything worthwhile to be found up here.  You beg and pray to any deity that is listening that that will be enough, but to your horror you hear a muffled,   “I got it.”

You’re panicking now, beads of sweat forming on your brow as you hear the harsh sound of the trapdoor opening.  There’s nowhere for you to go;  the attic window leads only to the roof, and there’s no way for you to descend it without falling from a great, likely deathly, height.  You paw around blindly for your knife, clutching its handle in your trembling fingers as whoever is down there gradually begins ascending.

A head pops into view, facing the opposite way, as you curl yourself into the corner with your knife at the ready.  Deep down, you know that you’ll be unable to use it.  You’ve killed plenty of the undead in your time scavenging, but you’ve never been able to bury your blade in one of the living.  What use would it have anyway?  You’re small and you’re  alone.   You feel no shame in capitulating if it means ensuring your survival  -  and that is perhaps your greatest strength.  Sometimes, you don't know why you try so hard to stay alive.  It's likely to do with the ones you've left behind.  You can't bear to disappoint them by giving up.

When the man turns around, locking eyes with you with evident surprise, the air feels thick enough to slice through.  

Then, he  smiles.    “Well  hello  there.”

Wordlessly, you watch as the man climbs up the rest of the way into the attic, standing up.  He’s broad, built like a damn tank, and you feel tiny under his gaze as he scrutinises you from the shadows.  His gaze drops to your knife, your tremors plain to see, and for just a moment it looks as if he  pities you.

“There’s no need for that,”   he informs you, hands coming to rest on his belt as he looks around the room.  The arched ceiling is barely taller than he is, and he lets out a high-pitched whistle as he takes in your set-up.   “Quite the cosy place, huh?  I’m hurt that you didn’t invite me in personally.  Could’ve had ourselves a little tea party.”

You don’t miss the bite in his tone, but you’re too busy swallowing your heart as he enters the room properly to rebuke it.  He comes to stand in the arc of light provided by the window, and you question whether the move was intentional.  The look he gives you is a dangerous mix between amused and condescending, one corner of his mouth disappearing beneath his moustache as he looks you over.

His gaze then drifts to a few bottles of water lodged neatly in one corner.

“Can you spare some?”   he asks, though it’s in a tone that suggests it’s  far from a request.  Terrified, you acquiesce, standing up on your knees enough to reach over and retrieve one.  After a moment of consideration, you pick up two and offer them both to him, hoping it will dissuade him from hurting you.

He arches an eyebrow, clearly surprised by your willingness to comply.   “Huh.”   The bottles are looked at with evident scepticism before he crouches in front of you, putting them down beside him.   “What are you doing hiding away up here?  Don’t you know you’re supposed to answer the door when somebody knocks?”   When you don’t reply, his wide smile dims, brown eyes glinting with malice.   “You want to speak when you’re spoken to.  Just a word of advice.”

You gaze at him helplessly, like a deer in the headlights, before swallowing hard.   “... I’m sorry,”   you say softly, hoping it will placate him.   “Please don’t hurt me.”

The man scoffs, as if you’ve said something genuinely amusing.   “Hurt ya?   Nawww!    Not if you do what I say.”   He leans a little closer to you then, squatting on the balls of his feet as he leers at you.  His disposition is  strange;   a frightful blend of polite and ultraviolent.  There’s something about his wide smile that feels  distinctly homicidal.   “We’ll start simple.  Can you tell me your name, sweetheart?”

“It’s [Y/N],”   you say quietly, finding it hard to look him in the eye.  You know that a lot of people deem you ‘pathetic’.  That much was clear even before the world went to hell.  People took your kindness for granted.  It’s worsened now that there’s no way to enforce the law, and everybody’s had to dirty their hands in some regard in order to survive, but you won’t yield.  To stoop to that same level of depravity would only make the world a worse place, and you don’t have the heart to do that.  Not when things are already this bad.

“I’m Simon,”   he greets, gesturing to himself with an ornamental flick of his wrist before he reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a firm shake.  He’s barely touched you, but the strength he displays in a single hand is still enough to leave you breathless.   Let’s   not    piss this guy off.  He’ll probably be able to body me with a single slap.

You talk some more–  or rather,  he does most of the talking, and you squeeze out a word or two as and when it’s appropriate.  Though you’re still very afraid of him and his imposing figure, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t temporarily forget about your discomfort.  There's something soothing about him when things are going his way–  almost as if he's genuinely happy to be talking to somebody so easy to deal with.

You dread to think what’ll become of you if you experience a sudden shift in attitude.

“Well,”   he announces after draining half of one of the bottles of water you’d handed to him.  He’s sweating up a storm, and the stuffy air of the attic isn’t helping much.  You yourself feel damp and sticky.   “Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to empty this here room of all your stuff.  Boss’ orders.  I got goods to round up ‘n’ people to facilitate, y’know?”   He watches you keenly, almost as if he  wants you  to kick up a fuss, but you don’t grant him the pleasure.  The idea of having your things stolen makes something inside of you twist with rage, but what can you do?  Even if you  did  have the guts to kill this man, you can hear  at least  another ten sets of feet still roaming around your house.  There’s no way you’re getting past all of them unscathed.   “...  but!   Since you’ve been  so good, I’ll take you back with us.”

You open your mouth, then close it again, bewildered.

“We have a community,”   he explains, eyes alight with some sort of sadistic glee.  He just can’t help himself.  He hasn’t met a person so  pliant  in such a long time.  He won't deny his innate desire to sink his fingers into you, to mould and shape you like clay until he finds what makes you tick.  Nobody's this nice anymore, girlie.  You're hiding something from me - and I'm good at uncovering people's secrets.   “You’ll be taken care of if you work hard.  Doesn’t that sound great?”

“Food…?”   you ask hopefully.

Simon nods his head.   “Mhmm.   Lots of food, if you earn it.”

You know better than to trust a stranger’s word in these terrible times, but your options are seriously limited and you feel inclined to believe what he’s saying–  at least about the community.  Simon may not evoke a feeling of trust in you, but if he really wanted you to die, he’d have done it himself already.  It's funny how “not killing you” used to be an expectation for everyone you met.  Now it’s a courtesy;  an act of mercy that few seem capable of affording.

Slowly, to show him you mean no harm, you reach out and pick up the blanket that you’d originally been hiding in.  It’s old and scratchy, something handmade by your mother, and its sentimentality outweighs its tattered edges.  You look at Simon pleadingly.

“Can I at least keep this one?”

He gives you a surprisingly sympathetic look, his head tilted to one side as if he’s really considering it.  He reminds you of a dog, one with floppy ears and a bushy tail–   and a sharp row of teeth.

“Mmm…”   he murmurs through clenched teeth, the corners of his lips tugged downwards in the form of an exaggerated frown.   “See, normally I’d have to say  no –”

“Please,”    you interrupt, not giving him the chance to finish.  Your hand meets his arm, your touch warm and imploring, and he looks down at your hand as if he can’t quite decide whether he’s offended or mesmerised.  It’s certainly a  bold move on your part, something he'll admit he didn't anticipate.   “It’s from my mom.  It’s all I have left of her.  You– you can take everything else.”

“Woah, woah, woah,”   he says reproachfully, waving his hands.   “ Nuh-uh.    I don’t like the implication that you’re letting me do something.  You’re not  letting me  do anything.”   His eyes are stern, and you shrink under the intensity of his gaze, the ratty material clutched close to your chest.  After staring at one another in silence for a few seconds, Simon grins again, bright and broad.   “... but eh.  What the hell.”   One large hand claps your shoulder forcefully as he stands up again.  It’s meant as a gesture of good faith, but the weight of his palm lingers long after he takes it away, his bulk threatening.   “Keep it!  Consider it a gift for being such a great listener.  Now up you get.  We’ve got a long car ride ahead of us.”

You move to stand up and follow him, though his hand on your head stops you.  Your big [E/C] eyes find his, a renewed sense of dread befalling you as he regards you with a wicked smirk.

“Oh.  One  more thing, [Y/N],”   he drawls, brown eyes glued to your face.   “I’ll take your knife.”  When you hesitate, he tilts his head and utters a firm:   “Now.”

Slowly, you reach out a hand to pick up the weapon, holding it loosely in your hand before offering it up to him atop your open palm.  You don’t realise what you’ve done in that moment;  don’t realise how  wholly you’ve submitted to him;  don’t realise that you’ve aced his first test.  To have a means of hurting him at your disposal and not abusing it…?  That proves that he can trust you to follow orders and put the Saviours first–  at least, to some shallow degree, if he dangles your mortality over your head.

“Good,”   he praises, sliding it into his belt.  It looks at home beside his gun.   “Now you can get up.  Help me bring all this stuff down, too.”

This is the start of something.  You’re not sure quite what, but you know your life’s about to change.  In a world that’s now so static without careers and families to distract you, maybe that isn’t such a terrible thing.

#twd imagine #the walking dead imagines #twd simon #twd simon x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction

[margowrites]

Hi my sweet friend!!! Ok so for random prompts I saw “ride a horse” and immediately thought of like cowboy Bucky or farmer Bucky or any kind of AU with horses hehe! Maybe he teaches you to ride or takes you out for a picnic- anything sounds amazing!!! Thank you so very much and please take your time❤️🥰❤️love and hugs to you!

Someone New

Pairing: Farmer!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Bucky gives you free horse riding lessons in exchange for your homemade strawberry cheesecake. Eventually you fall in love with more than just the activity.

Word count: 859

Author’s Notes: Thank you so very much my beautiful friend @jobean12-blog for this gorgeous request! I’m sending you all the love and hugs back and I really hope you like it and it doesn’t sound too cliché! 🙈 I followed a guide on horse riding, so if any information is wrong please feel free to correct me!

Warnings: horse riding (as I know some have a phobia of horses), fluff, proud!bucky, happy and cheesy ending 🥰

Your horse riding lesson was about to start and you were nervous. Not about riding the horse itself, but nervous about messing up or doing something wrong in front of your tutor Bucky Barnes, the local farmer who was kind enough to give you some horse riding lessons free of charge in exchange for your homemade strawberry cheesecakes.

It was a great deal, since learning to ride a horse has been on your bucket list ever since you were a little girl. Every Christmas you would ask your parents for a horse, with a written promise you’ll take excellent care of it and treat it as if it were a prince or princess. But every Christmas that passed, you never received the horse. It’s just something you’ve always wanted to do and thanks to Bucky’s offer, your wish was about to come true.

You tried to calm yourself down. Your nerves made you visibly shake when Bucky rounded the corner with his favourite and well behaved horse.

“Okay doll, you ready?” Bucky smiled, showing off his perfect pearly white teeth. Bucky had a smile to die for, and his horses weren’t the only reason you hung around the farm so much.

“I-I think so? I’m a bit nervous.” You chuckle, your nerves making themself known as you wipe the back of your palms on your pants and take deep breaths.

“You’re gonna do great! I’ll be here the whole time, okay? He’s also a gentle giant, he’ll take good care of you.” He said, stroking the side of the horse’s face.

“Now, come here.” Bucky ushered you towards him, holding his hand out for you to take so he could help you into position as he moved the mounting block into place. “Now hold onto his reins.” He points to where you should hold, and you follow his instructions.

“Okay.” You sigh, hoping the horse doesn’t suddenly take off.

“Good girl! You’re doing great! Now put your left foot in the stirrup.” The stirrup feels unstable and you gasp, fearing you’re gonna do something stupid. “It won’t go anywhere doll, you’re okay. Now pull yourself up and mount him. I’ve got him so he won’t take off.” Bucky assures you and you trust him as you pull your body up and straddle the horse and gently sink into the saddle so as not to hurt the horse’s back.

“I did it!” You grin, letting out a sigh of relief that nothing so far went wrong.

“I’m proud of you doll! I knew you could! Okay your positioning looks great so hold onto the reins and click your tongue.” You do as Bucky says and the horse starts to walk forwards. Your body jolts when Bucky gives you the next instruction to make the horse trot. “Keep your elbows relaxed, doll.” He shouts, giving you two big thumbs up at how well you’re doing and you were so proud of yourself, feeling relieved that nothing embarrassing had happened during the lesson. Nothing did go wrong during the lesson, and you were equally excited for your next.

The lessons continued over the next couple of weeks. The more you rode horses, the more confident you became doing everything yourself without needing help or reminders on what to do from Bucky. It became one of your favourite hobbies, it gave you freedom and encouragement to do anything you wanted. And of course, spending lots of time with Bucky was a bonus as the romance between the two of you blossomed during the time you spent together. Not just during lessons, but you also cooked for the two of you and even made plans for movie nights so he could relax after a hard day of farming. He made you laugh and smile, he was your ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. And you were his everything. Bucky didn’t expect to fall for you so quickly, but when you were the reason he couldn’t stop smiling, he knew he was in too deep.

You were jumping with joy when he asked you if you’d like to take the horses out for a ride and have a picnic under the sunset.

“It’s so gorgeous here.” You beamed up at the orange and red sky, breathing in the warm summer air. The two horses neighed nearby as they chomped on the grass happily.

“It’s the best sight. The scenery isn’t too bad either.” Bucky grins, taking a huge bite out of his sandwich. His comment heated your cheeks, and you grew shy under his stare.

“Bucky…” you chuckled shyly, biting into one of your homemade strawberries, the red juice dripping down your chin and onto your sundress.

“I mean it, doll. You’re really gorgeous. The best thing that’s ever happened to me.” His eyes kept darting from your eyes to your lips. The close proximity drew you in closer to him and without saying another word, you closed the gap and kissed him. His lips are soft and plump that you would be happy to kiss all day. It wasn’t just a new hobby that you found, you also found love and your soulmate.

#bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fluff #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #farmer!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #Bucky Barnes imagines #margowrites #drabble #drabbles #requests

[wrathandgreed]

A crafty MC making goodbye gifts for the demon bros (unromanced and romanced).

Word count: 3.5k

Notes: I’m a huge crafter (knitter, crocheter, spinner, weaver, cross stitcher, etc)  and I’m currently knitting my husband a winter hat, so I started trying to figure out what a crafty MC would make the brothers as goodbye gifts when they go back to the human world.

Also, this got REALLY REALLY long.

Lucifer

(Unromanced)

This guy is hard to make stuff for. 

His aesthetic is VERY tight and leaves no room for mistakes

So a simple winter scarf, in business-black, is probably the way to go. 

Somewhat lux yarn, cashmere/silk or alpaca/silk, so it has a sheen

He travels to the human world sometimes, and Diavolo has winter themed events in Devildom sometimes, so a scarf isn’t totally impractical.

He would appreciate the amount of time you spent making it, even if he didn’t get a chance to wear it that often.

(Romanced)

Let’s get more personal, now. You still have the same problem with his aesthetic, and the fact that if you want to give him something ~~personal~~ he won’t be able to wear it openly. His pride says no.

He’s stern in public, but affectionate in private.

You knit a medium-sized decorative pillow cover for his bed, in his signature wine-red.

It’s simple and elegant and can sit on his bed like it’s something he picked up in a Hellhome Goods store, and only *he* knows it’s a private gift.

After swearing him to secrecy, you get Solomon to help you charm the pillow, so it never pills up or wears out, and it maintains your scent forever. (Actually, it’s fair to say you do this for all of the romanced gifts).

“I thought, you know, if I can’t be there with you every night, something of me can?”

Awkward MC is awkward.

He not only appreciates how much time went into the gift (who knows how busy you are better than Lucifer?) but that you spent that much time thinking about him.

Mr. Acts of Service over here. Every stitch is something you did *for him*

You assume he’ll just leave it on the bed, and maybe, if you’re lucky, it’ll help you be the last thing he thinks of at night and the first thing he thinks of in the morning. 

Maybe he’ll smile when he sees it, and some of his weariness will lift.

Oh, if only you knew.

Mr. “Stern In Public” wraps himself around the pillow every night. Well. Every time he manages to sleep. Which, let’s face it, isn’t every night. 

But when he DOES sleep, it’s with that pillow. If he can’t sleep wrapped around you, this will have to suffice.

Finds he doesn’t sleep well when he travels, because he refuses to bring the pillow with him.

If asked, he says it’s because it’s not important.

But he just doesn’t want to lose it.

It’s too important to him.

Mammon

(Unromanced)

You’ve seen this boy’s room.

You’re not spending hours and hours and tons of money making him something.

You love the guy, but you’ve seen how he takes care of his possessions.

Most of what he owns is chucked aside when the next new-shiny comes along.

You know he loves you to bits and he’ll be careful with whatever you give him.

But “careful” has a different definition for Mammon than for some of the others.

So you knit him a hat. A trendy, slightly-too-small hat in black with a small yellow stripe on the brim.

You can use some lux yarn because, for a single-skein project, investing in cashmere or mohair or something isn’t too awful.

It looks really great on him - the fluff of his white hair, the small yellow stripe, then the wash of black as contrast. It makes his eyes pop and his skin look even warmer.

He wears it to a shoot one day and the photographer loves it

Now everyone wants one

But he has the only one because it’s handmade

Suck it, losers!

The Avatar of Greed finally has something everyone else wants that no one else can get!

(Romanced)

Yeah, you’ve seen his room. You’ve practically lived in his room. But you know he’ll be careful with anything you give him because he loves you. 

It would break his heart to have to ask you to fix something you made for him.

You know he’s going to suffer when you leave

You want him to know that you’re always there, even if you’re not *there*

So you knit him a sweater

A big, oversized sweater out of super soft chunky wool with tons of texture.

You finish it early so you can wear it around your room for a few weeks. On the rare nights you sleep alone, you sleep in it.

Again, get Solomon to enchant it.

Now it smells like you.

You wouldn’t notice, but a demon’s sense of smell is far stronger.

“I know it’s not, like, fashionable or anything. But it’s comfy and it can be…..a portable hug?”

His face turns red and he winds up stammering. Obviously. So he puts it on to avoid having to look at you.

Chucks it on over his tshirt. He immediately pulls the neckband back up over his face to take a deep inhale from the fabric.

He looks really cute in it

(He looks really cute in anything, let’s face it)

Might start crying.

Hug him pls.

Any night he feels lonely (which is most nights) he wears this sweater. Falls asleep in it half the time.

It really is like a hug, and the boy needs all the hugs he can get.

Leviathan

(Unromanced)

Out of all the brothers, Levi is the one who will appreciate STUFF. No matter what you make for him, he’ll love it. 

It’s limited edition! No one else has anything like this!

So this boy is getting crocheted plushies.

(They’re called amigurumi, and he’ll appreciate knowing that)

You make a mobile for his room

Hanging from it are little plushies of all his favorite sea creatures

Henry 2.0 is the biggest

But there’s a few jellyfish

A whale

You had to completely invent a pattern for a kraken, and it came out okay!

You had some extra yarn, so you made a few extra jellyfish

They get suction cups. 

Now he has jellyfish in his tanks and outside his tanks

Spends the next hour rigging up the mobile over his tub so he can see them before he goes to sleep and remember how much his true friend cares about him.

(Romanced)

This took….time to make.

You had to basically invent two patterns from scratch

There was a LOT of frogging.

And swearing.

When Levi opens the box and pulls aside the tissue paper, there’s two crocheted figures

One of each of you

(The one of you may or may not be dressed as Ruri-Chan)

“You made these…..for me?”

Tell him you made ONE of them for him. You take the one of him and hug it, “This one comes with me. So I’ve still got you.”

(Don’t let him cry!)

(Too late)

Then you show him the best part - each figure has a magnet in one hand.

When they get close to each other, the magnets snap together and the figures hold hands :)

Even though the two amigurumi will be in two separate realms, those magnets will want to find their partner.

Levi is floored - this is just like something out of an anime! Like two halves of a locket or something!

He can’t even find words. Possibly not for the next hour or two.

But he makes the cutest little squeaks and the verbal equivalent of keysmashes.

Like Lucifer, he sleeps with your gift. But he also carries it around his room. It has pride of place on his desk, and he purchases a stand so you can sit with him while he games or does his online schooling.

He talks to it like he would talk to you, especially on busy days when you can’t actually talk to him on the D.D.D.

It eases the feeling that you left Devildom and forgot about him. Eases - just a little - the jealousy of every human in your world who gets to talk to you. Because none of THEM have a handmade you. Just him.

Satan

(Unromanced)

This guy is either the easiest one to make for, or the hardest.

Like, you could make him a stuffed kitty. Or knit him a tie. But he’s not a super sentimental guy (unless romanced) and, in the end, that’s just stuff. His room is FULL of stuff.

Soooooo, you take out your sewing skills and sew him a traditional Sherlock hat - the deerstalker one, the one that never was actually in the books, but is still associated with the character.

The most straightforward of the brothers, Satan is indeed touched that you spent so long making something for him and he tells you so.

Insists he’ll wear it when solving mysteries.

You laugh, but he actually does wear the hat when reading mysteries now. 

It reminds him of the trip to London - how he got to solve an actual mystery, save his brother, and see the sites with his friend.

(Romanced)

YouTube made it look so easy.

It’s just paper, right? Paper and thread and a needle. You can sew clothes and stuffed animals. How hard can it be to sew together pages to make a book?

Oh, my sweet summer child.

You considered actually pulping and making your own paper, but after the seventh ruined batch of signatures you’re grateful you talked yourself out of that one.

You also considered an actual leather binding, but go for boards and a more simple Japanese sewing technique. 

This project is the perfect thing to give to Satan - not just because it’s a book, but because making it is causing you SO MUCH RAGE.

Who needs firewood when you have the ruined attempts of your gift?

You may have thrown various attempts on the floor and stomped on them before chucking them in the fire.

It takes weeks but you finally get the book together. Now the REAL work can begin.

Every book the two of you read together. Every book you discussed. Every book you recommended to him. Every single one gets a page - a title, a date, and a discussion of your discussion of the book.

The book itself becomes a tour through your growing relationship.

While not as stern as Lucifer in public, Satan is also definitely fond in private - he’s completely unsurprised to receive a book as a present, but once he begins leafing through it, the semi-smug smile vanishes.

He looks shocked, and his hold on the book gentles.

His fingers run down the page, tracing your handwriting on a page particularly precious to him.

Speechless for a few minutes, he finally returns with only “I love it.”

Said so softly and sincerely that you can’t doubt his sincerity.

There are blank pages at the end and he begins to use them to document newer books he’s reading - ones he wants to discuss with you later.

Asmodeus

(Unromanced)

Good luck keeping your gift a secret!

Asmo loves craft and crafty things, so he’s always curious about what you’re making and fascinated with the process.

Probably helps with suggestions for the others, especially for a romanced brother (although WHAT you see in them is beyond him, after all, what can THEY have that Asmo doesn’t?)

Because he seems to pop up out of nowhere, he’s already seen his gift a few times. Thankfully, he thinks you’re making it for yourself.

Bonus, he’s whiny and jealous about it, and obviously wants it for himself. So, score. You know he’ll like it.

It seems simple; a pair of fingerless gloves in his signature hot pink. But the yarn is mohair lace (you’ve cursed at it many, many times for tangling on you) held double with merino/silk black yarn.

The gloves are lacy and airy, sensual and soft. They feel wonderful to wear, and look great with a majority of his outfits. 

He absolutely squeals and hugs you when he opens up the gift - the gift he was so jealous of! Of COURSE you were making it for him this whole time!

Wears them constantly. His Devilgram pics start having a lot of “what am I holding?” themes. Cups of coffee or hot chocolate. Someone else’s hand. A ticket for an absolutely fabulous play. And a LOT of peace signs and finger-hearts  :)

(Romanced) 

This one requires the cooperation - willing or not - of everyone in the house.

You start with your DDD. That’s easy enough.

Since you’ll need Sol’s help anyway, it’s easy enough to plunder the pictures on his phone, too.

The rest of the brothers you get, one by one. Belphie’s you steal while he’s sleeping, although you found nothing useful on it. Beel just lets you borrow his phone. You ask to borrow Mammon’s while he’s gambling and he doesn’t notice that it takes you an hour to give it back. Satan - the real photographer - must be taken into your confidence - you might need his help later anyway. But he’s particularly close to Asmo, and knows how to keep his mouth shut.

You stalk Lucifer for a few weeks. You ask Satan for advice. You consider asking Diavolo to just order Lucifer to hand over his phone.

Finally you just ask him for it.

Getting a hold of Asmo’s phone is the hardest bit. You have to wait until he’s deep in a spa day, hanging around in his tub with both a sheet mask AND cucumber slices.

Then you make off with his phone. And go through the photos.

His wonderful Devilgram-worthy pictures you ignore. You start looking for the ones that he rejected, but kept. The one where both of you cracked up laughing right before the photo snapped. The one where he dropped his hot chocolate and then stole yours.

The two of you in clay face masks and toe spacers? Yep. The one you took of him with super-wide eyes as he put on mascara? Definitely. Selfies of you two surrounded by his brothers, by Sol, by Simeon, even a few with Luke.

The one Satan took of the two of you dancing at one of Diavolo’s balls, so lost in each other that the rest of the ball might as well not exist? Of course.

You combine them with the ones taken by everyone else in the house.

Culling them for the best takes weeks. Because you don’t just want the ~~prettiest~~ pictures or the ones designed for social media.

You pick the ones with emotional meaning, ones of important events, but mostly you choose pictures of genuine laughter and affection. Ones that show how much the two of you love each other, and how much true friendship exists in the house. 

How much he’s not alone, and how much he is loved. How much the people around him appreciate him.

With Satan and Solomon, you gather and enchant a simple glass cube.

It displays these photos, gently lit up, like the digital picture frames in the human world.

“I want you to remember me,” you say quietly. “I want you to remember how much fun we’ve had, and how much I love you for you.”

Not gonna lie, Asmo cries.

The cube moves around his rooms depending on where he is - it’s by his tub if he’s taking a bath. It’s on his vanity when he’s putting on  his makeup. He credits it with helping his relaxation and makeup game.

It’s always on a nightstand by his bed before he goes to sleep. Sometimes he just lays on his back, puts the cube on his stomach, and watches memories float through it.

What you wanted - for him to remember that he’s loved for more than his sexual prowess - comes true. The pictures remind him of the life he has outside of a bedroom.

He starts spending more time with his brothers. He starts taking more pictures.

His followers appreciate the diversification in his content :)

He appreciates how much you love getting texts of those photos - the not-social-media-ready ones, but the REAL ones.

Beelzebub

(Unromanced)

I mean, you could just bake the guy a dozen cakes.

But then he’d eat them and they’d be gone.

And you can’t make him anything that looks like food, because he’d eat it.

You’ve finished your gifts for half of the brothers before you even figure out what to make for him.

And then it comes to you…..socks.

He’ll use them.

He won’t eat them.

They’re not the most interesting gift, but you’re running out of time.

You actually manage to find a pattern covered with colorwork triangles that mimic his usual shirt.

You get Satan to charm them for you - the problem with handmade socks is that they wear out FAST. Not anymore!

Beel LOVES them.

(To be fair, he’d probably love anything you gave him)

Once he knows they won’t wear out, they become his Game Socks.

Like most athletes, he becomes superstitiously obsessed with the socks, wearing them for absolutely every game he plays.

Is convinced they help him win.

(Romanced)

You encounter basically the same problem as above - what on earth to make him?

You want something that reminds him how much you love him, and it absolutely can’t be anything he could even be tempted to eat, because he’d never forgive himself.

You try a number of times to build a small tapestry loom, but that skill seems to be beyond you.

Finally you have to beg Lucifer to pick one up for you in the human world.

Once you get it, you’re off and running.

Now, just because things can’t look like food doesn’t mean it can’t be inspired by it.

Red yarn, the exact juicy red of an apple - but here, just an abstract circle. Mixes of pale cream, yellow, and red in a triangle - an abstract pizza slice. 

Those cookies Barbatos makes? There. The broccoli-cheddar soup you learned to make for her? Now just an orange blob with tiny green squiggles. And on, and on. 

And buried, scattered throughout, little woven hearts.

The hearts are made of slightly different yarn, puffier and thicker, so they stand out just a little bit.

In the end, you have a decent-sized wall hanging, full of texture and shapes that are just reminiscent enough of food to bring a smile to Beel’s face, but not enough to actually be worth eating.

He passes the hanging every day, and every day he brushes his fingers over the yarn or through the fringe; a physical reminder of you.

Belphegor

(Unromanced)

This guy is probably the easiest one to make things for.

Is it soft? Is it cuddly? Can he use it as a pillow? Can he snuggle it like a stuffed animal? 

Click “yes” on any of those questions, and you have a happy - well, a slightly less annoyed - Belphie.

Which is why you take this as a challenge. The easy answer - a pillow - is BORING. And the other easy answer - a blanket - would take WAY too much time.

So, like Levi, he gets a plushie.

But not just any plushie.

He gets a plushie of Lucifer.

Lucifer…..on a pastel unicorn.

Belphie starts cackling the moment he opens it, which is fair, because you laughed a fair bit designing and making it.

He starts leaving it where Lucifer can find it, then saying that the elder can’t do anything about it, because MC made it and there’s no way he’d want to harm anything made by MC.

Satan tries to steal it.

In the end, an “anonymous” Devilgram is created, dedicated to the “adventures” of this particular plushie.

It’s all fun and games until Diavolo wants one.

(Romanced)

Well, for your boyfriend, the time and effort involved in making a blanket is just fine.

You debate endlessly - comprehensive color scheme? Granny squares or stripes? How heavy?

You go with your gut instinct - this isn’t a boy who cares about color schemes or blanket styles.

(Just look at his clothes, seriously.)

He cares about one thing - comfort.

You find the softest, smushiest yarn you can, and a pattern you can tolerate working on for like 100 hours.

You go old-school; a granny square blanket like the ones that pretty much every person had thrown over the couch in the 70s and 80s. The perfect nap blanket.

Black… mostly black, with some bright accent colors. Kind of obnoxious accent colors, actually. You figure it’ll appeal to his (dubious) sense of humor. Also it’ll piss Lucifer off seeing it around the house, clashing with literally everything in the oh-so-perfectly-decorated Gothic interior.

This one requires….special enchantment.

A little bit of ritual, and that blanket will fold up into a tiny square; easy to carry from place to place.

Belphie is torn between wanting to carry it around everywhere, like his pillow, and to leave it in the attic room, always waiting for him.

Depending on his mood, he’ll do one or the other.

But no matter what, he also sleeps juuuust a little bit better under it, snuggled up under your love.

You make him the Lucifer plushie, too. It’s too funny not to :)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me headcanons #obey me headcanon #obey me hc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #obey me fic #my fic #my writing

[tommybaholland]

bnha boys in love [valentine’s edition💗]

featuring: midoriya, bakugo, todoroki, kirishima, kaminari, shinso, amajiki, and dabi

for anyone who might be feeling lonely today, enjoy a lil something from ur fav bnha boy who loves u! 

midoriya is one that gets nervous but tries hard to turn it into excitement when thinking about what he’s going to do for or with you on valentine’s day. as an aspiring hero, he always wants to put a smile on others’ faces and you’re no different. actually, you could be an exception because he loves you and those feelings are different from acts of altruism. rather, he wants to give you something straight from his heart. he’s always wanted to cook dinner for someone else, even after he’s always had his mom make him anything he wanted. he receives some basic guidance for her over the phone but he still has zero clue what he’s doing until kacchan stumbles upon him in the dorm kitchen struggling to cut onions. after some threats, yelling, and lots of arguing, the two manage to make a decent meal, actually a whole spread of food for the night. you’ve never had someone put that much thought or make dinner for you so its absolutely surreal when he presents it to you. the meal itself is really good and the night ends with the you both falling into food comas on the couch, relaxing into one another. 

bakugo seems very distant leading up to the day. he didn’t seem like the type to make a big deal out of valentine’s day. then again, he had never gotten many chances to celebrate it, except reluctantly with classmates and his parents. you didn’t mind how he felt about it but it was strange that you hadn’t seen much of him the past few days. on the day, you want to not think about his absence so you decide to get some training in. not an hour passes before bakugo storms in, “there you are, IDIOT! i’ve been looking everything for you! you’re coming with me..” he doesn’t allow you time to change or shower and instructs you to close your eyes as he leads you by the hand somewhere. he voice goes soft as he stops and tells you to open your eyes. you open them to see your favorite dessert sitting in front of you and a lit candle to complete the ambience. you’re in complete awe. you knew he could cook but had no idea he could bake but he explains that sato helped him with the recipe and how he almost gave up the whole thing because he couldn’t get it right the first few times. he admits it might still not be perfect but he loves you so very much and-- he doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before you’re silencing him with a kiss. 

todoroki could give you anything you wanted on a regular basis, being the son of a pro hero and all. it’s this ceiling effect that gets him in a bind for what to do for you because naturally he’d just spoil you extra. but something tells him he shouldn’t focus on the material items but rather the gesture, the sentiment, maybe even the experience. the beginning of the day is slow and lazy, with him coming to your room early in the morning to lay with you in bed. being the sleepy boy he is, he ends up falling asleep on you and you follow close behind. luckily, he set an alarm so you wouldn’t miss what he has planned. he takes you to a hot spring in a secluded location, where you (appropriately) share one together. it’s really nice and relaxing and a different type of alone you get to spend with him. he tries to rub your feet but you won’t let him because you’re ticklish and that starts a little tickle war. you surrender by wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as your ribs ache from laughing so hard. you stare at each other while catching your breath, lips slowly drawing closer. it’s all around a beautiful moment with such a pretty and kind-hearted boy. 

kirishima would save as much as he could to be able to spoil you on this day. he figures; that’s what it’s for, right? this man would try to go above and beyond for you any day because you’re so worth it to him but valentine’s is truly his day to shine. he decides to put together a scavenger hunt which involves one long tour of your previous dates, like the buffet restaurant and the arcade. he even sneaks in little nostalgic things during your time as a couple, like at the park where he learned how you liked to lay on your stomach while he’d draw little shapes on your back. it’s crazy but so fun and cute and special. it ends in a random backside of a building at UA and it’s familiar but you’re confused as to why he brought you here. “this was the place where you first told me you were interested in me..and i was so nervous but so flattered that someone as wonderful as you could like me.” and he goes on and on but he can’t help that he feels so much love for you, which is something he didn’t really think he’d get to experience. he’s oh so grateful to have you and so are you to have the manliest, cutest, sweetest boyfriend ever. 

kaminari feels the pressure of making your first valentine’s with him the best day you’ve ever had and tries to put on a front but fails. he loves that you’re so easygoing and chill with anything but he wants to make the day special. he wants to go above and beyond for you because you deserve it so much. he really likes the idea of an private outdoor dinner because the ambience is already pretty romantic. he sets it all up and when the time comes, he’s just too excited and can’t keep it a secret. he leads you outside as he tells you that he strung up all these lights but when you get out there, it’s real dark. he goes, “this is the best part.” he uses his quirk to simultaneously light up the small bulbs dangling from the strings. unfortunately, several of them blow a fuse and shatter, diminishing the full effect. you both laugh it off like normal and he says he was prepared for that, pulling out a lighter to light the candles on the table. it’s sweet and thoughtful, but don’t think you’ve escaped the ‘are you trying to romance me’ tiktok references. it’s okay though because a denki date night wouldn’t be complete without them. 

shinso is similar to bakugo when it comes to valentine’s, except he’s more so indifferent, rather than not caring about it. he’d be the type to ask you what you want or would like to do but he realizes that was a lost cause because of course you tell him it doesn’t really matter to you and you’d be happy with whatever. you’re so lovely to him everyday, despite his insecurities and trust qualms, so he silently promises to give you a day that you deserve. he tells you he has a surprise. it’s easy to hide as he takes you to your favorite cat cafe, a place where you two are regulars. there’s one cat there, a black and white tuxedo cat, that you are particularly fond of. he enjoys watching you smile as the cat rubs up against you and lays in your lap. you’ve completely forgotten about why you were there until he tells you that the cat is yours if you want him. you’re in complete disbelief but he tells you that he had arranged it with the owner of the cafe, who had noticed that the cat was very skittish and avoidant of other people, except for you. “and i told him, ‘yeah, me too.’” 

amajiki is nervous, of course. probably more nervous than on a regular basis. he knows he shouldn’t be because you’re so wonderful and accept anything he’s done for you with your sweet smile and kisses. he doesn’t like going out to public places too often but he wants to take you to several that you’ll both enjoy and he’ll feel somewhat comfortable. every place has something to do with nature: a zoo, an aquarium, and finally, a butterfly garden which he remembered you mentioning how you had always wanted to go to one. although he knows butterflies are gentle creatures, he isn’t so big on bugs in general, especially when there’s hundreds of them flying around him. you hold his hand the entire time, relaxing him as time goes by. you giggle as they land on the tips of his ears, making him smile as their delicate legs tickle his skin. he grins at your reaction as he pulls you closer. “nothing compares to your butterfly kisses, bunny.” he leans in to blink against your skin, his lashes brushing lightly like wings. you return the gesture to him, hugging him close to you as he pets your hair. he can be shy but your own little love language made up for it.

dabi has never been into something as trivial as a day about love. to him, it’s like any other day. but he never expected that he’d be scrambling around the city to find the perfect flowers to give to you. it’s the least he could do but it could never make up for everything you’ve done for him. you’ve made him feel loved and wanted; having proven it by sticking by him this entire time, such as the fact that he’s now a wanted criminal. he has to be discrete. this doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have standards and wouldn’t give you just any flower that was thrown out or forgotten. he starts to get frustrated as he stalks around in a forest and lets his quirk burn off a little steam, catching the trees and foliage into blue flames. then he sees it. you’re a little on edge when he gets home, worried that something had happened after you hadn’t seen him all day. he reminds you what day it is and then holds up what he found: a lonely flower, singed a bit on the ends of the petals but intact and tall. he explains that it reminded him of you, your relationship, what you mean to him. it’s rough around the edges and imperfect but resilient and strong.

happy valentine’s day from bnha night! any lovely requests may enter here..

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya fluff #midoriya blurb #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo blurb #todoroki x reader #todoroki blurb #todoroki fluff #kirishima x reader #kirishima blurb #kirishima fluff #kaminari x reader #kaminari fluff #kaminari blurb #shinso x reader #shinso fluff #shinso blurb #amajiki x reader #amajiki blurb #amajiki fluff #dabi x reader #dabi fluff #dabi blurb #tommybaholland

[laurenairay]

What Love Feels Like - S. Crosby

Summary: your boyfriend Sidney, the surprise romantic?

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: established relationship fluff, cheesy romance, essentially a 4+1

A/N: I’ve been in an absolute writing rut since before Christmas, so I just want to thank @danglesnipecelly​ for reminding me how much I love soft sexy sid 😘 also, how have I never written for him before?!

~

No-one ever said dating Sidney Crosby was going to be easy.

They also didn’t say how much of a romantic he was either.

It was like at every turn, he had a new way to make your heart beat a little faster, to make you face heat up warm, to make your stomach fill with butterflies. Whether it was buying your favourite sweet treats as a pick me up, or the kisses that would leave you breathless in passing, or even the way his tongue flicked at your bare body just right, Sidney always kept you on your toes.

But it was his words that affected you the most.

You hadn’t expected much verbal affection from him at the beginning of your relationship, the rumours of his hockey robot status the main thing you knew about him – but you were quickly proved wrong. Maybe it was the media training that kept him so hockey-bland in interviews, because the minute he wasn’t in hockey mode, he immediately turned sweet, suave and so sexy. And it wasn’t just flirting talk, to prelude to sex (although the first time he murmured all the things he wanted to do with you after the team event you were at, you almost lost your mind then and there) – it was the sweet loving statements that sent your heart pounding.

How could you ever have known about his way with words?

*

Today had been a stressful one. Work had been full-on without any warning, and you were just about done with people. You’d even hesitated when Sidney offered to cook you dinner at his house – but eventually the temptation of being pampered by your boyfriend had been too good to resist. Maybe he’d be able to turn your day around. It couldn’t hurt to try, right?

And as you suspected, Sidney had taken one look at the exhaustion on your face and ushered you to the sofa, only disappearing to come back with a large glass of wine for you.

“You are an absolute gem,” you groaned, tilting your head back to look up at him.

He just grinned, taking the silent cue for what it was and leaning down to kiss you gently. Yes, this was just what you needed.

And the evening had only gotten better from there. Sidney had made the two of you a simple but delicious coq au vin dinner (the recipe definitely came from Vero Fleury, and you knew that you would definitely need to text her your thanks later), followed by a chocolate tart that you swore was the best thing you’d ever tasted (that one was from a local bakery, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time you’d get something from there now!). And all throughout the evening, Sidney had kept the conversation flowing, telling you hilarious stories of grumpy Geno and naïve rookies from the recent road trip he’d had, as well as about the cute dog that his neighbour had recently adopted, and you felt yourself relaxing more with each passing moment.

Sidney had indeed turned your day around just like you’d hoped.

After eating, Sidney had insisted on clearing the plates by himself, making you roll your eyes fondly but accept a gentle kiss as he walked past. You could at least get the two of you a fresh glass of wine each. You were tired, not incapable. So with that in mind, you picked up the two empty wine glasses and followed your boyfriend into the kitchen, opening the fridge to pick out the open bottle of white wine he’d opened earlier.

But just as you finished filling the glasses, you felt a pair of arms slide around you from behind, making you jump slightly, earning a soft laugh.

“Menace,” you complained fondly, putting the wine bottle down on the side.

“Couldn’t help myself, I needed you in my arms,” Sidney said simply, squeezing you in a little hug.

You leant back into his chest, smiling to yourself. How could you say no to that? The two of you stayed silent for a few more moments, just enjoying the comfort of this embrace, until Sidney sighed softly.

“You make me want things I didn’t think I could have,” Sidney murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

What the hell?

You spun around in his arms straight away, the frown on your face making Sidney laugh softly.

“What things? And who says you can’t have them?” you demanded.

“Always so protective,” he mused.

You batted at his chest, rolling your eyes. “I’m serious Sid! What do you mean, things you can’t have?”

He bit his bottom lip, making your frustration soften a little. This was something he’d really thought about, wasn’t it?

“I just…I never expected to find someone while I was still playing hockey,” Sidney started.

What the hell? He was just going to wait, until he eventually retired? What?! But as you opened your mouth to protest, Sidney pressed a finger to your lips, a fond smile on his.

“No, I know what I’m like. My routines are so set in stone, I’m away so often, I have so many more responsibilities as Captain and well, just because I’m me. I was told from a young age that anything other than hockey was a distraction. So I just…shelved the idea. Didn’t even let myself hope,” Sidney explained.

“Sid…that’s so sad,” you said softly, clutching at his sweater with both hands, “to just resign yourself to being lonely, I can’t…”

“Hey, it’s okay. I can’t say it hasn’t paid off with hockey,” he mused, “and besides…I met you, didn’t I?”

You bit your lip, your face heating up warm, Sidney’s hand rising to run a knowing thumb over your cheek.

“So I wasn’t a distraction?” you asked hopefully.

“Oh, you absolutely were,” Sidney said, laughing softly, making your heart sink a little. He saw your hesitant expression, and shook his head. “It was a distraction that I didn’t know I needed. You help me break out of my intensity, to separate the rink from home. Without you, I would just eat, breathe, sleep hockey, and meeting you made me realise that I can have hockey and love. You give me a reason to live, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that,”

You couldn’t stop the tears that sprung to your eyes, nor the smile that spread across your lips. “Sidney…” you murmured helplessly.

“Thank you. For making me whole. For making me a better person,” he said seriously, hand still cupping your face so you couldn’t do anything but look into his eyes.

Your heart clenched at his words, and there was nothing you could think of to say that needed to be added. So you just lifted your head and pressed your lips to his in a kiss that said everything.

*

A good run of games, with far more wins than losses, always put your boyfriend in a good mood. So good, that after the latest game, which was another win where he’d gotten 2 goals and 1 assist, he’d even suggested going out for drinks. You were more than happy to agree – not that you didn’t love your evenings in with him, but sometimes it was nice to go out and try something new, y’know? These plans quickly turned into a couples’ drinks with Kris and Catherine, and Geno and Anna, and the six of you ended up in a private booth in a fancy cocktail bar.

You’d immediately ordered some lethal manhattan cocktails with Anna and Cath, leaving the guys to their own devices as the three of you toasted to the success of the men in your lives. As you surveyed the bar around you, you felt yourself relax a little. This was exactly you needed, with exactly these people. These two women had welcomed you so quickly into the Better Halves group, and you couldn’t be more excited to spend time with just them. Well, them and your rapidly tipsy partners. 

It had only taken the three men a couple of hours to be giggling messes. 

Kris, the troublemaker that he was, had indulged Sidney’s sweet tooth with so many sugary cocktails, that he was already pretty far gone, eyes glassy and skin flushed. Sure, he was going to feel it tomorrow morning, but the fact that he actually got the chance to let go, to just relax with his just closest friends? That was the most important thing.

How often did Sidney get the chance to do that?

The six of you were still in the booth, Geno having just come back with a fresh round of cocktails, and Sidney was started to lean against you a little heavier, making you frown slightly.

“Hey, are you good?” you asked softly.

Sidney leaned back to look at you properly, hair a little ruffled and his top two buttons undone, distracting you slightly.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen…and I’ve held the Stanley Cup three times,” Sidney slurred, his lips stretched in that beautiful crooked grin.

Kris, Cath, Geno and Anna all just burst into laughter, making you laugh too.

“I’m serious! The cup is so beautiful…but you, you are the most,” Sidney said firmly.

“He’s serious,” Kris snickered, “crisse Sid, what a romantic,”

The sarcasm just made Sidney pout. Bless him.

“Okay I think it’s time for some water,” you giggled.

“Oh no please, let him carry on. It’s been so long since drunk Sid made an appearance,” Kris grinned.

“Drunk Sid is most fun!” Geno added, nodding enthusiastically.

You looked back at your boyfriend to see him still smiling at you like the sun, and you couldn’t stop the butterflies erupting in your stomach. How were you supposed to react, when he looked at you so brilliantly? You didn’t have to look at Cath or Anna to know that they were smiling fondly at you – you’d had enough wine nights with them to know how sweet they thought Sidney was with you.

“He may be fun now, but he’s going to be an absolute grump tomorrow and you know it,” you mused, shaking your head.

“Won’t be grumpy,” Sidney insisted.

Oh jeez. “Yes you will,” you teased, “But you’re cute, so I’ll let it slide,”

“You think I’m cute?” Sidney said happily, before looking at his teammates, “she think I’m cute!”

That just sent Kris and Geno into fits of laughter again, making you sigh fondly. Oh he was definitely going to feel this tomorrow.

Worth it though.

*

The summer brought you back to Nova Scotia with Sidney. Well, you’d taken two weeks off work in August to be able to spend Sidney’s birthday with him, but you were so glad you did. Spending some proper time with his parents and with Taylor was so worth it, and you didn’t miss the little smiles he sent your way when he thought you weren’t looking – Sidney loved you being home with him just as much as you loved it.

The best part though, was definitely waking up to that sleepy morning sunlight, the lake only a stone’s throw away, Sidney warm and content and at peace. 

“Mm happy birthday Sid,” you murmured sleepily, curling further into his body.

“Shh, if my body doesn’t know that I’m getting older then I won’t get any more grey hairs,” Sidney groaned, not opening his eyes.

You just giggled, running a hand over his bare chest. What a drama queen.

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that, baby,” you teased, “you know I like your grey hair, the little grey of it that there is,”

What? You did!

Sidney lifted his head to look down at you incredulously. Of course that was what made him wake up properly.

“You like it?” he frowned.

“It makes you look…distinguished. It’s…sexy,” you shrugged. There was no reason to lie to him after all.

“Sexy?” he laughed, rolling his eyes.

Oh now that wouldn’t do. You slotted your leg between his thighs, moving to hover him slightly where he was lying on his back, waiting until he was looking at you properly. He swallowed heavily at the seriousness in your expression. Good.

“Yeah, Sid. It’s sexy,” you said softly, “you’re sexy. Clearly I need to tell you that more often,”

Sidney’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, his eyes never leaving yours as he processed your words.

“If I’m so sexy, then why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

The desire in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but to grin. You leant your head down to kiss him softly, leaning up on your elbow for a better angle. Sidney groaned softly at the sweet kiss, one hand sliding into your hair with the other resting on your waist. You kept the kiss slow, gentle, intense, with only light brushes of your tongue, taking your time to enjoy yourself. You loved early mornings like this, when it was just the two of you with nothing to do for hours, and today you had nowhere to be until well into the afternoon, so you were going to indulge yourself with these kisses while you could.

Eventually you broke away, lips feeling as swollen as Sidney’s looked. Wow.

“Is that better?” you mused, stroking the hair at his template.

“Hmm, I don’t know. That’s all I get?” he murmured, “on my birthday?”

Tease. You licked your bottom lip, Sidney’s eyes flashing darker, and you rolled off of him, tugging your sleep-top over your head and lying down sultrily on your back. Sidney’s eyes immediately fell to your bare chest, yours flicking down to the hard line of his cock in his boxers, before you grinned.

“Get over here birthday boy…” you purred.

Sidney didn’t waste another second.

*

Sometimes things weren’t perfect. Sometimes Sidney had a string of bad games where he got too much into his own head. Sometimes he wouldn’t communicate in any more than a couple of words or grunts. Sometimes you had to prioritise a work deadline over time with him. Sometimes things between the two of you were extremely tense until one (or most often, both) of you cracked and talked it out.

But that’s what made your relationship work – the talking. Being with Sidney meant being in such a mature adult relationship, and it was refreshing to be able to work through things with a guy that wasn’t just going to fly off the handle or sulk around. Sure, Sidney had his faults, but he always tried not to take his frustrations out on you. You knew that the highs of dating a hockey superstar came with the lows too – you knew that when you agreed to go on that very first date way back when, but he’d proved time and time again that he was worth it. He was always worth it.

Right now, Sidney…no, the Penguins had been on a bad luck streak, and you could see the pressure piling up on your boyfriend, from management, from the press, from the fans, from himself. But not from you. There was no way you were going to add to his stress, not when he needed your support more than anything.

And you knew he appreciated more than anything else.

Like today, for example.

Sidney had turned up at your apartment a couple of hours earlier than you thought, having come straight from the airport rather than going to his house first, just looking bone-tired. So you’d immediately drawn him a bath with your favourite lavender-vanilla bath bubbles, Sidney insisting that you join him too.

Well, you weren’t going to deny him that.

So that’s where the two of you were now, you lying between Sidney’s legs, your back leaning against his chest, your hands clutching at his forearms where his arms were wrapped around you.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

You just smiled softly, tilting your head back to press a kiss to his jaw before leaning into him again.

“I’m just sorry we’re doing this in my shitty apartment rather than your lovely bathroom,” you shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter whether we’re at your place or mine. You’ve always felt like home,” Sidney murmured.

Oh god, if your heart could be any more full it would be. Wow.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you said softly, not wanting to break the moment, “I’ll always be here for you,”

Sidney smiled into your neck, pressing the lightest of kisses into your skin, making you shiver despite the temperate of the water.

“I mean it, you are my home and I couldn’t be more grateful. You’ve shown me what love feels like, sweetheart,” Sidney murmured, “I love you,”

You tried desperately to blink away the tears that sprung to your eyes, squeezing his hands. “I love you too Sid. So much,” you whispered.

As his arms held you a little tighter and he buried his face in your neck a little more, you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be.

*

Another morning, another day waking up in Sidney’s arms. No matter how many roadtrips he went on, countless by the point, it still felt weird sleeping in your own bed without him. Your apartment felt cold, felt empty, despite it holding all your possessions, but you knew that was just because it didn’t have him in it. When he was home in Pittsburgh, whether it was in your apartment or at his house, you had never slept better than when you were with him. You could only hope he felt the same.

“Good morning,” Sidney said softly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Good morning,” you replied, smiling up at him.

He smiled back, leaning over to press a few gentle kisses to your lips before leaning back.

“That was a real serious face you had a moment ago,” Sidney said, lying on his side with his head propped up with his hand.

Busted. “I was just thinking,” you shrugged.

“What are you thinking about?” he mused.

“Nothing much. Just…”

You trailed off, biting your bottom lip. Sidney’s hand slid to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your trapped lip until you let it free.

“Just…” he prompted.

“I could get used to waking up beside you,” you blurted,

Sidney’s face looked a little stunned. Damn it. Was that too much?

But then his face shifted into the biggest smile you’d ever seen, making your hopeful heart beat a little faster.

“Why don’t we make that a reality?”

W-What?

Sidney saw the confusion in your expression and hesitated, before turning and reaching into the bedside drawer beside him. He paused slightly, as he grabbed whatever it was, making your heart beat a little faster. What was going on? But after a couple of beats, he rolled back over to face you, hand clenched in a fist.

“Move in with me?” he murmured.

He opened his fist, revealing a shiny key, making your jaw drop a little. Oh wow.

“For real?” you whispered, eyes not moving from the key.

“Yeah, for real,” Sidney mused, although you could hear the strain of nerves in his voice, “I would really love for this to be your home too. You already have a ton of your clothes here as well as make-up and your shower stuff…so why don’t we make this full time?”

You choked out a laugh – he did have a point there.

But was it too soon?

No.

“If it makes a difference, I’ve wanted to ask you for months,” Sidney admitted.

“You have?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You’re it for me,” he said simply.

He really did have such a way with words.

“I would love to, Sid,” you said softly.

“Yeah?” he grinned,

“Yeah. I want to build this life with you. So let’s do this,” you nodded.

Sidney whooped, making you giggle, and he dropped the key into the bedsheets in favour of pressing a deep kiss to your lips. Yeah, you could get used to this.

#my writing #sidney crosby #i love soft sexy sid so much #i want this SO bad #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby fanfiction #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby x reader #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #4+1

[snowywrites]

Yuri x popular Fem!reader

summary: fluffy fic in which the reader sees Yuri while working at a coffee shop and intends to be closer friends with her.

word count: 2.1k

"Y/N!"

You stop in your tracks, turning to scan the tables around you for the source of the voice; it was kind of familiar, and your eyes fall on a customer that's a regular here at the coffee shop. A young man around your age, usually here with his friends but alone today.

You had been about to go make another coffee for a different customer, but you force a service smile onto your face and hurry over to his table. "Hello!" You wrack your brain for a second to bring a name to this man- it wasn't easy keeping track of so many different people, and not just at your job! You also tried to keep tabs on the majority of your peers from school, too. Fortunately, it clicks a moment later. "Hatsumi, was everything alright?" You ask, noting he's already finished his pastry and drink.

Hatsumi grins, clearly pleased you had remembered him. Customers tended to get really happy over little things like that... if only they knew you did this with all of them. It was no secret you were one of the favorites here at the little shop, consistently getting better tips than many of your coworkers. "It was great!" He answers you brightly.

You nod and inquire politely, "Would you like me to go ahead and bring the bill out now?"

A moment of hesitation, and then, "Oh- uh, yes, thanks." He seems a bit disappointed, but you don't have time to dwell on it right now, not with how busy today's rush hour is. The only good thing is you're hopefully going to be getting off in about a half hour.

You assure him you'll be right back and then flit off to the counter to ring up the items he'd ordered and print the bill. As you're doing so, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Glancing up, you see your favorite coworker, a girl several years older than you. "Y/N," she begins, a bit of a pleading look in her eyes that means she's about to ask you for a favor.

Biting back a sigh, you push down whatever annoyance you have at being interrupted to look expectantly at her. "What's up?"

"Can we please switch tables really quickly?" She practically begs you.

Switching tables wasn't too terribly uncommon- sometimes when guests came in, the baristas would know them outside of work and might ask a coworker to deal with the order and anything else.

"Sure," you giggle, ever the people-pleaser. You had a reputation to keep, after all! You don't like to brag, but you do enjoy the fact that you have many different friends and are well-liked by just about everyone you know. "Who?"

She gives a hop of delight. "Can I take the bill to Hatsumi?"

You can't help but smirk mischievously. "Ohhhhh, I see."

She lightly smacks you on the arm, instantly blushing. "Nono, I just-"

You cut her off before she can defend herself, knowing the two of you don't really have the time to waste playing around. "It's no worries. And who's that order for?" You question as you point at the circular silver tray in her hands which is holding a cute polka-dotted cup of tea.

"Ah, this goes to table three, the girl with the purple hair."

You nod, exchanging the bill for the tray. You want to watch and see what will happen between your friend and Hatsumi, if anything, but when you look towards the designated table, already heading for it, you realize you recognize the girl sitting there.

You have no trouble recalling her name. One of the members of your Literature Club, Yuri...

You haven't actually been in the club all that long at all, maybe a week-ish, and you feel like you haven't had any time at all to get properly acquainted with Yuri. Part of you feels that it's a shame, because you get the sense she's a very interesting and sweet person beneath her quiet and distant shell. It's just hard when she's always reading, and even in the rare moments she's not, she doubts herself so much during conversations with you that it just ends up being a bit weird.

But not today! No, you're suddenly filled with a sense of determination to get closer to Yuri.

You consider playfully scaring her when you walk up, but ultimately decide against it; aside from being naturally timid anyway, she's also, as usual, reading, and doesn't seem aware of anything going on in the shop around her. So, yeah, best to use a more gentle approach.

"Hey, you," you say, putting all the friendliness in your voice as possible, stopping beside the table to greet her.

In spite of everything, Yuri still jumps a bit in her seat, violet gaze flashing up to you in alarm.

'So much for trying not to scare her,' you think unhappily. Pushing that thought away, you give her a reassuring smile. "Sorry, it's just me! Y/N. We're in the Literature Club together," you try to remind her, wondering with a pang of horror if she's actually forgotten who you are. That would be a first for you.

A second of silence, but at last Yuri's tense grip on her book loosens, and she glances down at it, avoiding making eye contact. "O-Oh, I'm sorry."

Another awkward beat of silence. This was what you meant!! It always went like this with Yuri, and you wished more than anything that you knew how to make her more comfortable around you. Hoping to carry the burden of saving this interaction, you laugh nervously, "It's no worries! But, you didn't forget me, did you?" As much as you're just trying to joke around, there really is a slight feeling of hurt that that may very well have been the case.

Yuri stiffens, quickly answering, "No, I- I didn't!" It's a rushed response, louder than you've ever heard her speak and yet still quieter than most people's normal speaking voice. As if embarrassed by her small outburst, she ducks her head to add quietly, "Uhm, that is- I just meant that... I wouldn't ever forget you, Y/N."

Oh. Talk about giving someone butterflies. You never knew what to expect with Yuri- sometimes she could never get her words out, but then other times she'd say something with such a deep meaning that it would catch you entirely off guard. What's odd though is you know for a fact how truly sincere she is; Yuri is the type of person that's much deeper than most people, and she wouldn't say something if she didn't really think or believe it.

"Thank you, Yuri," you say warmly, setting her tea down near her on the table. "Here you go! I like this kind, too." Truthfully, since you hadn't taken the order yourself or even made the drink, you weren't 100% sure what kind of tea this was, but you were willing to try anything to make Yuri more at ease. It also wasn't unheard of for you to make conversation with customers, even if it was busier than usual right now- for once though, you weren't aiming to make a good tip or secure a regular customer. You genuinely wanted to talk with her. "Hey, is that the same book you're reading at the club?" You question after catching a glimpse of the cover art.

She shakes her head, causing some of her bangs to fall into her face. Brushing them out of the way, she frowns and then nods. "W-Well, kind of. I finished that one yesterday... this is the sequel," she explains.

"It must be pretty good if you want to read the next part already," you comment. "What's it about?"

As predicted, Yuri noticeably perks up. "Oh, I think you would really enjoy it, Y/N. It's about-"

"Y/N!"

You flinch at the stern voice of your shift supervisor, who apparently hadn't realized Yuri was speaking when he cut her off.

You glance back to see him gesturing at you in clear annoyance, motioning to the line of guests waiting for their drinks to be made. You nod, signaling you'll be right over.

Focusing back on Yuri, you're unable to mask your disappointment. "I'm sorry, I've gotta get back to work. I'm supposed to be off in a little bit though."

Yuri seems to also be discouraged, apologizing for keeping you, even though you're the one who had intentionally kept the talk going. She bites her lip, and then, probably overtaken by a brief moment of courage, suggests, "When you get off, maybe then I could tell you about the books?"

You're stunned, but at the same time, this was precisely what you'd been hoping for! "Yes, sure! That sounds great. I'll see you then!" You chirp, hurrying away.

The last of your shift passes by rather quickly, and when it comes time to clock out, you actually have to tell your supervisor no, you can't stay another extra hour even if they are busy, because you have plans! Normally you would have, but not today.

You meet Yuri at the door and the two of you leave the coffee shop together. The sun is close to setting, but not quite there yet. "Thank you again, Yuri! I like spending time with you, I've just been a little busy lately," you say.

Yuri mumbles something you can't quite hear, but then adds more clearly, "I-I'm glad..."

"So," you begin, clasping your hands behind you and beaming at her. "About those books!"

That's all it takes for Yuri to dive into an explanation of the main plot points as the two of you walk side by side towards your home.

You're more than a bit tired from work and standing on your feet for so long, but it's nice to have company on the walk back, especially someone like Yuri. You hum and comment every so often, honestly thinking that they did sound like the sort of books you would enjoy. Full of fantasy and mystery and thrills... and of course, romance.

"So, the main character ditches his friend, who's been with him the whole time, for the new girl? And she's from the enemy's group?" You surmise.

Yuri hesitates. "I don't want to spoil anything for you if you're wanting to read them for yourself..."

"Such a tease," you sigh, pretending to be betrayed. "Oh, we're here- this is my house."

The two of you stop at the gate leading to the front yard of your home, and you're positive you aren't imagining the plaintive expression on Yuri's face. You didn't really want your time together to end either, but alas, you both have classes tomorrow.

"If- If you really would like, you can borrow the first book from me," offers Yuri. "And then... you'll see for yourself how it all goes."

You nod enthusiastically. "Yes, please! Thank you, that's really sweet of you! We can discuss it too after I'm finished reading it. I think I already know who my favorite character is going to be, though."

Yuri tilts her head curiously. "Who would that be?"

"Nope! It's a secret, for now." You pause, glancing up at the darkening sky. "Will you be okay walking home by yourself?"

Her violet eyes soften at your concern. "Yes, I don't live very far from here."

You find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye to Yuri, an uncertain quiet settling over the two of you, but she doesn't seem to find it awkward. "Okay, if you're sure. Do you mind giving me your phone number, though?"

She starts in surprise, a dusting of pink covering her cheeks. "U-Uhm- I- you-?"

"So you can text me when you get home," you quickly defend your reasoning, feeling a bit shy yourself at Yuri's reaction. She really was unique- most people tried to play it cool when asking for or giving numbers.

"R-Right," she stammers, reciting it off for you, and her phone buzzes at the quick text message you sent her so she would have your number.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, at the Literature Club," you finally say, already looking forward to it. "And don't forget to bring the book, please!"

Yuri steps back, her gaze on the ground but you still see her smile to herself. "Yes, I will. Bye, Y/N." She seems like she has something else she wants to say, but then she gives herself a shake and quickly turns away, her long hair twirling to follow her.

You watch her go until you can't see her anymore, partly due to wanting to make sure she was safe.

You couldn't help but admire her for her intelligence and beauty, even if she seemed to admire your social skills in return. Hopefully this was the start of a very deep relationship with Yuri.

#yuri #yuri x reader #ddlc x reader #doki doki literature club #reader insert #scenario #imagine #fem reader #ddlc reader insert #preference