#(she would prefer for me to fix the weather.)

[fjordfolk]

ended up paying a little more for an updated non-stop glacier wool on sale instead of paying slightly less for the older version used. 🤞 for fitting

[just-jordie-things]

the subject of every photo - fushiguro megumi

word count: 5,555 (i'm so proud of that) warnings: swearin' summary: a photoshoot at the pumpkin patch isn't his ideal day, but at least megumi gets to spend time with you. and maybe he'll take a few pictures anyway. (a/n): really delayed pumpkin themed fic with the softest boy but i needed to write this ok a greater power called upon me to do it

___

“It’ll be fun!” Nobara had claimed, although her tone was more threatening than bubbly.  “It’s just a little photoshoot at a pumpkin patch, why so gloomy about it?” 

And it wasn’t that Megumi was gloomy about it, because he wasn’t.  It would be immature to pout about a simple hangout among friends.  The thing was… he just didn’t care for the whole pumpkin patch thing that really seemed to take off on instagram and tiktok these last few years.

He hadn’t carved a pumpkin since he was just a tot, and even then he’d only done it to satisfy Gojo’s bonkers need to participate in every holiday tradition.  He never particularly liked scooping the guts and seeds out, and as a kid wasn’t decent enough with a blade to carve a face that actually looked interesting.  Not to mention, it was always chilly in late October, making it insufferable to wander around outside solely to pick out a big orange vegetable.  

Really, if he wanted a pumpkin that bad, he would’ve picked out a discount one from the grocery store.  But really, he didn’t want a pumpkin.

Nonetheless, Nobara had bought four disposable cameras— which he didn’t know were even still a thing— told everyone to wear their cutest, coziest outfit, and pretty much demanded they all go spend the afternoon at one of the more popular farms in town.  As with most plans, Megumi begrudgingly agreed.

Even under three layers— his coat, his sweater, and the long sleeved tee he wore underneath them both— the crisp air still pricked at his skin and left goosebumps in it’s wake.  It was hard to enjoy being out here when he was fighting the urge to shiver.

“It’s pretty cold for this, huh?” 

Megumi wipes away the resting bitch face he’d been making, opting instead for as much neutrality as he could muster.  He turns to (y/n), only to find her peering up at him from behind her little plastic camera.  His brows wrinkle.

“Don’t take a picture of me at that angle” 

He puts his hand over the lens and pushes it away before she could even think about snapping the photo, and she chuckles a bit at his boyish antics.  He almost cracks a smile when she’s peeking up at him with her cheeks tinged pink from the cold.  He squashes it before his lip could curl too far.

“Well what side do you prefer then?” She teases, shifting around to stand before him and raising her shitty little camera again.  “Full portrait? Or perhaps a side profile?”

Megumi rolls his eyes, but when he starts to walk away, she’s quick to follow.  He doesn’t dislike her company.

Nobara is off farther in the field, ordering Yuuji to pick up as many pumpkins as he can for the perfect picture.  It was only a matter of time before she came over and started barking at the two of them to make the perfect poses as well.

“So why do you hate pumpkin patches?” (y/n) breaks their silence, but when he turns to her again, she’s fixing her camera on a sparrow pecking away at a less than ripe pumpkin.

“I don’t hate pumpkin patches,” He replies, but even he has to admit the dryness in his voice makes it seem a bit unbelievable.  “It’s just…” He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, but he’s quick to straighten his gaze when he finds her full attention on him now.  “Cold” He finishes, lamely, but it’s not untrue.

He fiddles with the plastic camera in his hands.

“Yeah,” (y/n) agrees from beside him.  “Would’ve been nice to do this a few weeks ago, when it was still sunny” 

Megumi nods back at her, unsure of what else to say.

He hoped that they weren’t doomed to only speak about the weather today.  However that meant he’d probably have to put the effort in to change the subject.  His palms began to sweat.

It was their day off, so he didn’t want to strike up a conversation about work, and preferably he’d like to avoid the subject of sorcery altogether.  So that narrowed down the options by a lot.

He knew that like him, she liked to read.  But she was more into the fantasy stuff, and the only book off the top of his head he could make conversation about was The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe and he was fairly certain that wasn’t currently on her shelf.

Was it always this hard or was he just overthinking it? 

“Wait, stay right there!” 

Before he can suck it up and ask how her most recent assignment went, (y/n’s) throwing her arms up at him to make him freeze in place.  Megumi startles at the sudden movement and holler, but he listens and stays put while she backs up a few steps.

“The sun is peeking out,” She explains, before steadying her camera in front of her face.  “The lighting is great” She says with a grin, and then without warning, she snaps the photo.

Megumi wants to complain, he didn’t even have time to smile or pose or anything.  When that picture got printed, he’d just be a guy standing there, probably with a resting bitch face.  Nobara wouldn’t be happy.

But (y/n’s) still grinning as she lowers the camera.

“Too bad we gotta wait so long to see ‘em,” She says as she heads back towards him.  “It’d be nice to—” 

“Stop moving” 

He’s more blunt than she is, already lifting his camera and peeking through the small lens.  (y/n) gets the hint and retraces her steps to fit properly in the frame.

“Better?” She asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder dramatically before posing with a bright smile.

Megumi snaps the photo without warning, although he’s sure that this one will turn out much better than the one she’d taken of him.  For one, she’s smiling, but he’s also certain that she’s much more photogenic than he is.

She’s at his side again as they wander around the patch, fiddling to fit the camera into the pocket of her coat.  It takes him a few minutes to find his courage again, but eventually Megumi clears his throat and tries to spark conversation.

“Gojo used to take a million pictures of me and Tsumiki” 

That seems to be exactly the right thing to say, because (y/n’s) entire demeanor lights up as she looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Really?” She laughs softly at the mental picture.  “Did he keep, like, photo albums and stuff?” 

“Oh yeah,” Megumi snorted, recalling the rows of photo books on the living room bookshelf when he was young.  “Dozens, at least.  It was like he couldn’t commit a thing to memory, always had to document everything” 

When he was young, it was obnoxious to always have a camera shoved in his face.  Now though, he wonders if the crazy bastard still had those albums.

“That’s sweet,” (y/n) muses, wandering off a bit to check out a display of gourds, all varying in shapes and colors.  “I bet there’s tons of embarrassing ones of you, too” She teases. 

Megumi doesn’t give her an answer, instead silently watching as she picks up a large green vegetable with a curly top.  She holds the long end in her hand, before turning to face Megumi with the plump end out, holding it like it was a very deformed gun.

He rolls his eyes at the joke, but just as she looks away, he snaps a photo.

(y/n) seems to not even notice, setting the gourd back on the display and turning back to Megumi to continue their conversation.

“Was he a scrapbook mom?”

He chuckles, and he wants to deny it, but he can’t.  Even if he tried he thinks she’d see through it with how he smiles with all of his teeth.  She’s laughing before he even explains.

“He made one scrapbook, ever,” He tells her.  “And you have to swear to never tell them this,” He adds quickly.  (y/n) doesn’t have to ask to know who he means, and she simply drags her thumb and forefinger over her lips as if to zip them up.  “It took him weeks.  I think the kitchen table was covered in all of his crafts for a solid month” 

“You’re kidding!” She laughs louder, loving the image of her mentor hunched over a table while he glued down photos and ribbon to pretty sheets of paper.

“I wish I was.  I think it’s why he only ever made one,” Megumi shrugged.  “But it’s… a lot.  Every sheet was three dimensional.  The spine of the scrapbook was stretched so wide the thing couldn’t even sit flat” 

He knows that all of the pictures in that book would be embarrassing now.  Gojo liked to document every first— first day of school, first science project, first A+, along with more ridiculous milestones, like when Megumi chopped all of his hair off in the fifth grade and looked ridiculous.  If he remembered correctly, Gojo glued that hair in the book too, as if it were his baby hairs.  That scrapbook really should be burned, but a part of him wishes he could show her now, just to prove how messy it really is.

“I’d do anything to get my hands on it,” (y/n) sighed, almost as if she could read his mind.  “My parents did some stuff like that, but they certainly weren’t obsessive” 

“Obsession is all he knows” Megumi mumbles, and he doesn’t mean to be funny, but she laughs, and it makes his chest feel warm.

“I still think it’s sweet,” She assures him, and then she stops in their slow and aimless walk, kneeling down to tie the shoelaces on her boot.  Megumi waits beside her.  He cared much more for her company than he did seeing the pumpkin patch.  “He probably just wanted to save lots of memories of you guys when you were little.  All parents say it goes by fast” 

She goes to tie the other boot, and Megumi can only stand there in soft surprise.  Sure, deep down he always considered Gojo his parent, because he simply just was.  But no one else referred to their relationship that way, the others always called him teacher or mentor.  But (y/n) must’ve understood that it was more than that.

He’s pulling his camera out again and stealing another quick picture while she was still focused on her shoes.

When she stands, he’s got the camera tucked back into his pocket and an innocent look on his face.

“Want to take a picture over there?” She asks, pointing to the tower of hay bales set up mostly for photos.  Originally it was for children to climb and play on, but it’s purpose was far more often served as a posing station.

Megumi simply nods, and follows her as she races over the tower.  It shouldn’t have surprised him when she started climbing the thing right away.  Surely Nobara had been over here earlier, striking a pose with one hand on her hip and the other on the stack of hay, but not (y/n), who was almost to the top.

“You’re not gonna fall, right?” Megumi asks unsurely as she’s grabbing at the highest bale.

“I’m a trained athlete!” She shrieks back, clearly offended.

“I’m more worried about you destroying the play area” Megumi retorted, his lip curling upwards against his will.  He can’t help but take a picture before she’s settled.  Her hair’s a mess and her limbs are everywhere as she tries to steady herself on the wobbling tower, but it’s a perfect picture nonetheless.

“This is great!” She shouts back at him, before stretching her hands above her head.  “Take my photo like this!” 

It’s silly, it’s childish, but Megumi’s laughing to himself as he snaps a couple.

Somehow she manages to climb down without toppling the entire thing, and they quickly make their way across the pumpkin patch before an employee could scold them for being grown adults playing on the children’s setup.

Megumi finds it easier to talk with her the longer they walk around, aimlessly eyeing pumpkins without committing to picking any out, taking photos here and there, but mostly they just wander around and talk.  Yuji and Nobara seem so wrapped up in the full on photoshoot they were having with each other that it could seem like they’d completely forgotten the other pair, but Megumi didn’t mind one bit.

Hang outs never turned out like this.  Nobara tended to cling to (y/n) like a lifeline.  She was always dragging her off to the next boutique on the strip or game in the arcade or exhibit at the museum— wherever they went, it seemed as soon as Megumi would get a minute of alone time with her, Nobara would steal her away.  It was deflating, but he couldn’t be mad, they were best friends after all.

Today was like a gloomy day miracle.  He almost felt spoiled having the last half hour with her all to himself.  All of her laughter and smiles were only for him.  It warmed up his chilled hands until soon, even the breeze wouldn’t make him shiver.

(y/n) didn’t appear to have the same effect, shaking like a leaf every time the wind picked up.  She always shrank into the collar of her coat and shoved her hands into her pockets, and after a few times, Megumi couldn’t stand to see her freezing.

“Let’s go inside for a bit,” He nodded his head towards the small shop.  (y/n) pouted back at him, before glancing around the pumpkin patch, clearly looking for their friends.  “They won’t be upset that we went inside because we’re cold,” Megumi chuckles to himself, before gently pushing his hand against the small of her back so that he’d follow her.  “I’ll text Itadori” He adds for good measure.

After a moment of hesitation she agreed and walked along with him, but just slow enough that he left his hand on her lower back.  Just because it was nice to be so close to him.

Stepping into the shop was an instant rush of fresh warm air, and she finally felt like she could stretch her fingers.  There was a small bakery inside with only a couple of tables, but without anyone else inside it was perfectly quaint to warm up in.

“I’m going to order a hot chocolate, do you want anything?”

The offer was sweet, but she’s already making her way to the counter, set on a mission as soon as the alluring smell of apples and cinnamon wafted past her nose.

“I could go for a coffee” Megumi hummed as he followed.

He’s ordering for the both of them as soon as a clerk arrives behind the counter, two drinks along with the enormous bear claw in the glass case that (y/n) hadn’t torn her eyes away from since stepping up to the counter.  She tries to fight him when he pulls out his wallet but he’s faster at tapping his card to the reader than she is at hitting him.

Even once they sit down with their drinks and the pastry that takes up most of the table space between them, she argues with him about the payment, and all he can do is shake his head— and maybe smile to himself just a little bit.  After realizing arguing is futile, she decides that as long as he eats some of the bear claw, she can forgive him.

And they continue to chat, about dumb things, about nothing, about everything.  Megumi learns all about the book series that she is reading, along with her plans for getting promoted faster, and that her dream pet is a sugar glider.

“That’s ridiculous,” He mumbles through a mouthful of almond paste and cinnamon.  “When would you ever have the time to take care of something like that?”

“That’s why it’s a dream pet, dummy,” (y/n) rolls her eyes at him.  “Doesn’t have to be realistic.  Don’t you have a dream pet?” 

“I kinda already have a lot of pets” 

“Oh, right,” She laughs to herself, and he thinks he can see a hint of a blush dusting over her cheeks.  Was she embarrassed? He wasn’t sure exactly.  But it was really cute.  “Well if there’s ever a sugar glider shikigami, please summon it for me” She tells him in all seriousness, and Megumi bites his tongue as he agrees to the condition immediately.

He pulls out his camera for the tenth time that day and rests his elbows on the table as he brings it to his face.  (y/n’s) eyes widen before she’s covering half her face with one hand.

“Are you taking a picture of me right now?” She hisses anxiously, before shaking her head at him.

“Duh” He mutters out as he tilts forward and back, trying to find just the right angle of lighting.

“I’m eating—” 

“So? Not like you have food on your face.  Hush.  Go back to eating or something” 

“I am not letting you take a picture of me while I eat” 

“Alright then just sit there then” 

She’s grabbing her paper cup of hot cocoa to use as a shield, but it’s too late.  Megumi clicks the button and she can hear the soft whirring coming from inside the camera.

The lens cuts to black and Megumi pulls the camera away, eyeing the little roll of numbers next to the lens.

“I’m out already,” He says, tossing it onto the table.  “Guess I win” 

(y/n) laughs to herself.

“I didn’t know this was a competition,” She takes a sip of her warm beverage before setting it back down.  “But I can’t believe you finished before me”

“How many do you have left?” 

Curiously, (y/n) pulls the camera out of her pocket and eyes the tape with the amount of film left.  She frowns as she looks back up at him.

“Just one,” She answers, and her frown tilts into a small, soft smile before she asks, “Do you want to take one together?” 

___

Greedily, Nobara snatches the stack of freshly printed photos out of Megumi’s hands.  (y/n) and Yuji are too busy sharing theirs with each other, and Nobara had been dying to know what photos Megumi and (y/n) had taken on their last outing.  By the time the group had met up and gone home, their cameras were already full, and she knew she hadn’t been the subject of a single one of them.

“I swear Fushiguro if these are all dumb pictures of pumpkins, I’ll—” 

But her threat falls short after sliding through the first three pictures.

The first was (y/n) on the path, just standing and smiling.  It wasn’t special, there wasn’t even a pumpkin in the background, but it was cute.

The second was a picture of her crouched down and tying her shoe.  Her face wasn’t even in the picture, her hair was hanging in front of it, but if you squinted you could barely make out the tip of her nose.

Then the third was another candid, where she was pretending to hold a gourd like a gun.

“What the—?” 

Nobara flips through to the next one in the stack, and yet again there’s a candid of her climbing up the side of a hay bale tower.  At least that one captured her smile.  She shouldn’t have been surprised to see the fifth one in the stack was also of (y/n), this time sitting on top of the haystack victoriously

“You’ve got to be kidding me, dude” 

“Okay give them back—!” Megumi tries to grab the stack of pictures from Nobara before she could keep being nosey, but she deflects fast, swiveling to turn away from him and keep skipping through the photos.

He shouldn’t have let her get her hands on them to begin with, but it was too late now.  If he caused too big of a scene, Yuji and (y/n) would notice.  He didn’t exactly want all of his pictures on display.

So Nobara kept flipping.

One was of her lifting up the tiniest of pumpkins— definitely the runt of the whole patch.  It fit in the palm of her hand but she seemed delighted by it.

The next few were just of her walking around, nothing too exciting in the frame.  Just the occasional pumpkin in the background.

There was a decent one taken from inside the shop.  (y/n) was still in the frame but her back was turned as she eyed the glass case of sweets.  Nobara could almost let Megumi off the hook for that one.  Almost.

And then the last photo was of her laughing, the blurry image of a paper cup waving in the space beside her face.  Her eyes are on the camera, so she must’ve known he was taking that picture, but judging by the surprise in her expression, it was easy to conclude she was trying to hide behind that cup.

Once she’d ogled every picture, Nobara finally turned back to Megumi.  Her brows twitched and furrowed, lips parted in shock, not a single word spoken as she handed the stack back to him.  It’s practically shoved towards him, but he doesn’t complain, just snatches them back as fast as he can.

He wants to find a way to quickly and discreetly ask her to keep this to herself, but before he can find the words, she’s gawking at him again.

“Every single one?” Nobara asks in a mutter.

“We hung out the whole time, okay? It's not like—” Megumi tries to defend himself, but it’s no use.  Nobara’s already speaking over him again.

“It’s almost pathetic, dude.  Just ask her out like a normal person” 

His brows almost raise to his hairline in shock.  Here he thought she was about to call him out for being a creep or something.  But no, her disgust only lied in his pathetic pining and lack of action.  Maybe he should have assumed that already.

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything before Nobara’s marching over to Yuji and demanding to see his photos as well.  Megumi’s left reeling from the whole interaction, the humiliation still lingering in his gut.

The feeling remains as (y/n) makes her way to him, her own fresh stack of photos in her hands.  There’s a nervous sort of smile on her face as she glances back at Yuji and Nobara, double checking that they were out of earshot.

“They took that pretty seriously, huh?” Her voice was still low, careful not to draw the attention of their rambunctious friends.  “Yuji takes great photos, don’t get me wrong.  But I think she should pay him for his time” 

There’s some relief in his chest when he cracks a smile, a small laugh coming out.  He could only imagine the quality of Nobara and Yuji’s photos, certainly prepped for instagram.

“I bet she still puts filters over all of them” He mutters back, and (y/n) stifles a giggle behind her hand, but nods her head in agreement.

“Can we leave now or what?” Nobara calls out, already dragging Yuji by the arm to leave the store.  “I want to get boba before home” 

“Boba sounds good,” (y/n) agrees softly.  “Let’s go” 

As the red head continued to drag her friend despite him arguing that he was an adult who could walk by himself, she turned and aggressively whispered something to him.  After her obvious threatening, she glances back at (y/n) and Megumi, which Yuji promptly follows her pointed glance.  Suddenly after that he was upright and speed walking along with her.

(y/n) and Megumi share a baffled look as their friends so blatantly ditch them, but they don’t exactly pick up the pace to follow.

“So, did you get good photos?” Megumi asks, tucking his own away in his pocket.  Foolishly, he hoped if they were out of sight she wouldn’t ask him about them.

“Oh,” (y/n) chuckles nervously, holding her stack of pictures in both hands.  She tilts them towards herself so he can’t see, and Megumi raises a brow at the secrecy.  “It’s kind of embarrassing, actually” She says sheepishly.

Her cheeks flood with color, and Megumi can’t help the curious grin that begins to stretch across his face.

“Embarrassing?” He repeats, sounding horrifically hopeful.  (y/n) sighs, and sticks her arm out, handing him the stack.  He’s quick to take them and start flipping through, eyeing her anxious demeanor in his peripheral vision.

“Yuji’s probably going to tell you anyway.  But… they’re sort of all..” 

His steps slow further after quickly sliding through the bunch of pictures.

The first was at the entrance of the pumpkin patch, with the cute sign with the family name painted on it, and just under it was him.  He wasn’t paying attention, and quite frankly he looked rather bored standing there.  She must’ve taken it while he was still pouting about having to go.

The next photo was of the sparrow poking at the rotted pumpkin, and he had to admit the way she captured it actually was sort of cute.

The third was the photo Megumi dreaded seeing.  He recognized it as soon as he saw himself standing on the thin path of dirt.  He grimaced as he looked closer to see just how bad it was.  But to his surprise, he wasn’t scowling like he thought he’d been.  He was actually smiling.  

Which was odd… he certainly didn’t remember smiling for that picture.  He clearly remembered being upset because he hadn’t tried to look nice for her picture at all.

He glances at (y/n) to gauge her reaction so far, but she was holding her expression at a neutral state, waiting for him to react first.

So Megumi goes back to the photos, and flips to the next one.  Which was… also him.  It wasn’t anything special, just him standing there, but he was smiling a little bit in that one, too.

When the following is also a candid of him with that dumb little smile, he glances over at (y/n) again, raising a brow at her in silent question.

She’s a tough one to crack, but the corner of her lips gives her away as she tries to bite back a smile.  His own smile is unable to be hidden as he flips through a few more photos.

And to his shock and delight, they’re all him.  Him while he was picking up that big pumpkin she dared him to, him while he was drinking his coffee and not paying attention, him just standing and doing nothing in particular, but for whatever reason, she’d used up all her film on capturing it.  

His favorite is the one of the both of them.  She’d given him the camera so he could stretch his arm out and snap the photo selfie style.  They’re sitting at the small table, two paper cups and the enormous bear claw between them, but pushed aside as (y/n) leans across the tabletop in order to better center herself.  She’s grinning from ear to ear, her chin set in one hand while the other holds up a peace sign.  Megumi’s smile isn’t as wide but nevertheless it’s genuine, and anyone looking at the picture would know.  It’s a great picture of the two of them, and he thinks it’s probably the first, too. 

Megumi hadn’t realized he’d gone through the whole stack till he flips to the next one and is met with the first photo, but once he does, (y/n’s) quick to reach out and take them back.  She doesn’t snatch them as aggressively as Nobara had, she handles them gently, careful not to leave an ugly smudge or crease.

Megumi watches with eager intrigue as she tucks the edges together neatly, making the stack smooth in her hands.

“Sorry if that’s creepy— is that creepy?” She turns to him suddenly, full of worry that she’d crossed a line, but Megumi just chuckles, and shakes his head at her.

“Not creepy” He muses, his soft smile remaining as he dips his hand into his pocket, retrieving his own small collection of photos.

He stares at them for an indecisive minute, clenching and unclenching his jaw, working up the courage to make the smallest of gestures.  When he does hold them out to her, he still doesn’t say a thing.  His throat is too dry and hot to even try.  He thinks it would be worse if his voice cracked right now.

(y/n) smiles as she tucks her pictures away in her purse with great care so that she could better look through the pictures he’d taken.  His face flushes with color when she finally takes them from him.  Even the small brush of the tips of her fingers against his has Megumi’s breath catching in his throat.

And he holds his breath as she eagerly slides through the stack of photos.  His throat is far too constricted now to show any sign of life.  He very well could pass out at any moment.  He just hopes she’d leave him there in a heap on the ground.

The relief of the exhale doesn’t come until she begins to giggle.  It’s soft at first, almost under her breath as she continues admiring his photos, but then it erupts into something brilliant and bubbly, as if it was coming out of her uncontrollably.  As lovely as the reaction was, it didn’t do much to ease Megumi’s nerves.  They began to sink their teeth into his heart and gut, and he knew that any minute now, his knees would give out.

When her laughter calms down and she finally looks up at him, the surprise is evident on his features when he sees her colored cheeks and nervous smile.  She hands the stack back to him, and Megumi’s quick to tuck them into his pocket, where maybe he they’d disappear forever, or at least just from the front of their minds.

“That’s pretty cute, huh?” She asks, an aftershock of quiet laughter shaking her shoulders and crinkling the corners of her eyes.  This time, Megumi can’t help the way he laughs with her, but he does duck his head bashfully.

(y/n) thinks it’s all the more cuter, how he resorts to his nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but directly at her.  She wonders if he even knows he’s doing it.  With a surge of confidence, she rocks on her feet.

“Wanna ditch our friends and get lunch or something?” 

He shrugs and nods, thinking anything would be better sustenance than the too-sugary drinks that Nobara had an addiction to.  But the implication of the question dawns on him too late, and suddenly his eyes are widening as he realizes what she really meant.

“You mean— like, a date?” 

It’s so damn cute the way his brows furrow and then raise ever so slightly, waiting without a single ounce of patience for her clarification.  (y/n’s) giggling again as she nods her head, putting him out of his misery.

“Yeah, like a date,” She repeats teasingly.

Megumi nods his head again, this time faster, as if there was a time limit to her offer and he was worried he’d already wasted too much of it.  Her smile brightens and there’s a small but noticeable skip in her step as they head off in a new direction together.

“Now maybe it won’t be so creepy when our friends see those pictures” She says, and Megumi can’t decipher if she’s messing with him or not.  The look he gives her barely hides his panic.

“They’re gonna see them?”

“What do you think they’re talking about right now?” (y/n) retorts, knowing for a fact that Yuji and Nobara were gossiping away about the pair’s photos that consisted only of each other.  

The thought makes Megumi’s face feel hot, and there’s no discretion in the way he tugs at his collar.  The idea makes him nervous, his stomach flipping excessively.  That said, he knew with the amount of gossip those two chatterboxes would generate, there was plenty of time to add a date to today’s agenda.

“They probably won’t even notice we’re gone”

(y/n) nods in agreement.

“They’ll be grateful to have the time for girl talk,” She teases.

With purpose, she steps closer to him so she could link her arm around his, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow and shyly smiling up at him.  Megumi returns the smile, his arm hooking a little further to keep her tucked next to him as close as he wanted.  It was another chilly day outside, but he could almost forget about it with the way her closeness sparked warmth in his chest that flooded throughout his whole body.  He hoped he’d get to do this for the rest of their day—

“So… where do we want to go?”

—and more days to come. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Fire on Fire Part. 2

Description: Aegon struggles to deal with the fact he's in love with his niece, who seems to prefer every other noble boy in the Red Keep to him. When a drunken attempt to illicit her jealousy prompts a heartfelt conversation between the two, Aegon almost gets exactly what he wants, her love. But a disastrous turn of events at Driftmark threatens to tear them apart forever.

Previous part Next part Dividers by @zaldritzosrose

Writer's note: thank you to everyone who read part 1. This part is half fluff half angst, so fair warning. The next part will be after the time jump. I do play around a lot with timings here and Rhaenyra hasn't yet taken her children to dragonstone in this part.

Warnings: female reader. Targcest (Aegon and Rhaenyra's daughter). Characters are 16 and 15 respectfully at this point. Very much frenemies to lovers and heavily inspired by Jude and Cardan in The Folk of the Air series by Holly Black. Long because I don't know when to stop yapping.

The sound of Y/N's laughter met Aegon's ears as he made his way to the morning room to break his fast. He picked up his pace to round the corner and see just what was so funny but almost immediately wished he hadn't. He felt the stirrings of jealousy rise within him and his chest clench as he watched Y/N talking with that same noble boy as before, laughing again at something he'd said. It was thrice he had caught her with the same plain-featured weasel. If she loved the boy, Aegon would strike him down where he stood. She wasn't meant to love anyone but him.

The blood rushed to his cheeks as Y/N caught his eyes and sent him an infuriatingly sly smile. She knew how much her flirting irritated him and yet she persisted. Scowling at her, Aegon forced himself to continue walking past his niece and her admirer, keeping his gaze firmly set before him. He'd managed to avoid glancing at Y/N until he approached close enough to hear their conversation.

"You have the beauty of a lily with your silver hair and delicate features."

Aegon snorted, unable to help himself at how ridiculous a comparison that was. Y/N wasn't soft or fragile like a lily, unable to weather a storm and so easily trampled. She was the blood of the dragon, and her beauty was like that of a fire or a knife inlaid with the rarest of gems. It was made to burn, to cut, to make one feel something. He knew the stupid boy couldn't have a hope of understanding who Y/N truly was, would never appreciate her sharp edges or fierce spirit. And he who cannot handle the thorns should not desire the rose. Aegon ignored the look of contempt Y/N shot him and had nearly made it to the end of the hall when he heard a change in Y/N's pitch he misliked.

"No."

"Why not? I thought you liked me." He turned back to see her gently push the nobleman away from her with a hand on his chest. The boy looked like he had come perilously close to stealing a kiss, an act he would have paid for. Y/N was not his to kiss. She was a princess...more specifically Aegon's princess. And that thought had Aegon marching back whence he'd come, his features set in a scathing glare.

He used his momentum to roughly shove the boy away from Y/N.

"You presume to touch the princess, you swine? To sully her lips with yours. You baseless prick."

He felt Y/N gently tug on his sleeve, but he paid her no mind, only continued to scorch the noble boy with his eyes.

"I apologise my Prince. I meant no offence. Princess." And with a respectful nod at his niece, the boy hurried back down the hallway.

"Thank you."

Aegon turned to look at Y/N, prepared for sarcasm, for a rebuke at the extremity of his actions, but not her timid look as she fixed her gaze on her jewel embroidered slippers.

Aegon disliked seeing her like this, and he wanted to ask her whether she was alright, whether the scoundrel had tried anything like that before. But his jealousy and anger won out, as it so often did when it came to Y/N.

"You should be more discerning about who you spend your time with, niece."

Her head snapped up, her eyes fierce once again and her words venomous.

"If you're going to be like that then I certainly don't want to be around you, uncle. I don't even like you anyway."

Ah, there was that fire he so admired. Aegon smiled at her as she passed by him, shouting after her, "Yes, you do."

Aegon was more than a little amused to find Y/N was still cross with him as they listened to instructions from the dragonkeepers in the pit. Each time he attempted to catch her eye she was already frowning at him, and would quickly look away, pointedly ignoring him.

He generally let his mind go blank as the dragon keepers droned on, but his interest was sparked as he heard them discussing Y/N attempting her first flight on Grey Ghost. Two of the keepers were considering whether it would be better to ask Rhaenyra of Laenor to ride up with her and ensure her safety, when he stepped forward and interrupted them.

"I'll take her up."

Y/N sidled up to him

"No he won't."

Aegon turned to shoot her what he must have been an infuriatingly condescending smirk, for he could see her clench her fists on response.

"You either play with the children and their baby dragons or you come with me. What's it to be?" He glanced pointedly in the direction of her brothers, whose dragons were still too young to ride far.

Y/N huffed resignedly.

"Fine." 

Aegon grinned at her triumphantly.

"Excellent. Let's go then Quelos."

Then he took hold of her wrist, dragging her towards where the dragonkeepers had shepherded Grey Ghost and Sunfyre, ignoring the uneasy looks the keepers exchanged. Sod them. Y/N was perfectly safe with him.

Getting Y/N to actually mount her dragon presented a bigger challenge. She'd spent what felt like an eternity staring at the ladder hanging off Grey Ghost's saddle, and he could practically hear her heart beating out of her chest.

"You do know how to climb right?"

Y/N whipped round, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Of course I do."

"Thank the seven. I had thought you'd forgotten how to use your limbs at all."

Y/N looked like she was trying very hard don't to slap him. Aegon only shot her a smile that showed far too much teeth for it to be kind.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him, turning back to approach the ladder and place her hands on the first rung. She didn't look back at him as she spoke

"And if I fall to my death?"

"Then I'll have far less food launched at me at supper."

When he caught a slight tremble in her hands as they gripped the ladder, he relented. 

"Grey Ghost won't let you fall, and I'll be up there with you on Sunfyre in case you're stupid enough to fall off. You'll be fine."

Y/N fixed him with a look of exasperation. Any comfort he offered her would always have an edge of mischief to it. Nonetheless, she climbed the first few rungs before stopping only a foot up from the ground.

Walking up to where Y/N stood he patted the back of her leg encouragingly, feeling how tense she was through her riding leathers.

"Up you go."

Y/N looked down at him with widened eyes, likely shocked at his presumption to touch her like that.

"I'm not a dog, Aegon."

Her rebuke carried little import for Aegon as her face curiously flushed. Was she blushing? More specifically was she blushing because he'd touched her? He removed his hand quickly, realising he'd kept it there for far longer than was appropriate. Shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts, Y/N began to climb in earnest, not stopping until she reached the top of Grey Ghost's back, swinging her leg over to settle in the saddle.

Aegon patted Grey Ghost's thick scales. "Look after her, there's a good dragon."

Then he turned to mount his own dragon, which took significantly less time.

"Right. Look how I'm holding Sunfyre's reigns. This is how you get your dragon to move and direct them as you wish." He demonstrated each movement slowly to Y/N who was watching him attentively.

"your dragon will have a sense of what you want, so you can rely on your bond for the most part. The order to fly is 'Soves'. You try."

Y/N squared her shoulders and gripped Grey Ghost's reigns, facing forward and issuing her command with determination.

"Grey Ghost, soves." The dragon responded instantly, breaking into a run before taking to the skies.

Aegon followed quickly after, keen to keep an eye on his niece, being the more experienced rider.

As they rose higher and higher into the clouds over King's Landing, he laughed to see Y/N gripping her reigns for dear life, every muscle tensed.

He shouted to her so she could hear him over the wind and flapping of their dragons' wings "Relax Quelos. Feel the wind on your face and the power of the beast beneath you. See how small King's Landing looks from this height. We are gods among men."

He through his arms and head back behind him, letting out a laugh of exaltation at the familiar feeling of flying with Sunfyre. There was nothing quite like soaring high above the clouds. He felt like nothing could touch him here, none of the expectations imposed upon him as a Prince, nor the judgements of his mother and the dismissive looks of his father. Up here it was just him and his dragon...and now Y/N. Aegon suddenly imagined this would be something they'd do if they were married. They'd take to the skies together, share in the singular joy of dragon riding that only a Targaryen could experience, flying high over King's Landing so that all the small folk would see them and their dragons and know they belonged to one another.

Glancing at Y/N, he was pleased to see she'd relaxed considerably and looked like she was actually enjoying herself. When she let out a carefree laugh, patting her dragon and urging him to rise higher into the sky, Aegon followed without hesitation.

Y/N had grown in confidence as she grew accustomed to flying on dragonback, and challenged Aegon to a race back to the dragon pit.  He'd been all too willing to oblige and they left the pit after dismounting their dragons playfully shoving each other's sides as they bickered over who had actually won.

Just as they were about to enter the Red Keep, Aegon stopped Y/N.

"Wait a moment, Quelos."

Raising his hand he picked a stray leaf from her hair before tucking a strand of hair that had escaped her elaborate braid behind her ear.

Y/N stilled, staring up at him with a dazed expression.

An award silence ensued which had Aegon regretting his brash actions and clearing his throat to break it.

"You look a mess. It's off putting actually."

Y/N glared at him, whatever spell that had kept her frozen in place breaking as she turned on her heel to storm up the stairs and into the Red Keep, nose upturned haughtily. Aegon stared wistfully after her, wishing he could just damn well say something nice to her for once.

From that day onwards, Y/N would only fly out with Aegon, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him to the dragon pit with her whenever she wanted. This pleased Aegon to no end, seeing it as another way in which they were irrevocably connected to one another.

News of Laena Velaryon's death reached the Red Keep, and it was decided that the royal family would travel to driftmark for her funeral. Aegon had never met Laena, his concern lay with his niece, who seemed to take the news harder than he would have expected.

As they played a game of Cyvasse, Aegon could no longer ignore her melancholy expression.

"Is it your aunt?"

She looked up from the board, seemingly having been lost in her own thoughts. He misliked her going off in her head to a place he could not follow.

"What?"

"Your aunt Laena. Is that why you're so glum?"

Y/N shook her head, playing with the end of her braid, a nervous gesture she'd taken to as a child.

"You might think me selfish. But it is not the Lady Laena I mourn for. It is Harwin Strong. We never got to mourn him properly, it wouldn't have been appropriate mother said. We weren't even able to bury him."

Aegon, in an uncharacteristic display of empathy, reached over and took her hand, interlocking their fingers as he'd tried to do only once before. This time, she didn't pull away from him, and he knew then the depth of her grief for her to accept comfort from him.

"I don't think your selfish. He was...he meant a lot to you and my sister."

Shit. Aegon had almost said what everyone had always known but never voiced. That Harwin Strong was Y/N's father, the father of all Rhaenyra's children. Y/N was clever. She must know. But Aegon felt there was a silent pact between them that they could throw jibes at each other as much as they liked as long as they did not cross this one line.

"You're surprisingly good at this."

"I'm good at a great deal of things. You'll have to be more specific."

"No, you're not. Don't lie. I meant you're good at comforting someone when they're upset. Thank you."

"You wound me Quelos. But, you're welcome."

He squeezed her hand one last time before retracting it to gesture back to the Cyvasse board.

"Now hurry up and make your move so I can take your castle with my dragon."

Aegon couldn't shake his concern for Y/N as he watched her mope about the Red Keep in the days before the Lady Laena's funeral. Though, he tried to convince himself he was starting to act just like those lovesick fools in Y/N's books. If only he could find a way to distract her, cheer her up. The perfect opportunity arose the day before they would set of for Driftmark.

Aegon had fortuitously tripped over a wine goblet he'd carelessly tossed on the floor, only to fall against the wall by his bed, gripping onto the nearest sconce to steady himself. Only a moment later, the wall gave way and Aegon fell into a darkened passage. As his eyes adjusted, he could see the passage was long and branched off in different directions. Quickly righting himself, he brushed the dust of his tunic and grabbed a candle, choosing a path and following it to see where it lead. After a short time, he spotted ridges in the wall that signalled this was another secret entrance and peaking through a small hole he could see it entered into Aemond's room. Aegon smirked. For once, his drunken tendencies and clumsiness had been useful. He knew just how to distract Y/N. With an afternoon of adventuring.

Aegon bounded up to Y/N excitedly as he finally found her reading one-off her novels in the godswood. Grabbing her by the elbows, he pulled her up and wasted no time in taking her hand to pull her along with him.

"Come on little star, I have something to show you."

Y/N looked startled by his abruptness and a little ruffled by his manhandling of her. Though this was hardly new, he never treated her like a porcelain doll as the other members of court did.

"What is it?"

"A surprise."

Y/N yanked her hand back, though Aegon refused to let her go.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not. The last time you said you had a surprise for me, you put one of Helaena's tarantulas in my hand."

Aegon rolled his eyes.

"It's not like that this time. Don't you trust me?"

"Decidedly not. I'm not stupid."

Groaning at her stubbornness, Aegon leaned down to look her in the eyes.

"I give you my word as a Prince of the realm that I won't allow any harm to come to you...and there are no spiders involved this time."

Y/N searched his eyes for a few seconds before seeming to decide he was telling the truth, her arm loosening as she stopped resisting him.

"Fine then. I'll set Jacaerys on you if you are lying though."

"Ha. I'd like to see that." Y/N followed him wordlessly after that until they reached the door to his chambers where she suddenly stopped and frowned at him sternly.

"There's not going to be any funny business is there?"

Glancing from her face to his door Aegon scoffed as he realised what she meant.

"Do you have any faith in me whatsoever?"

"Absolutely none."

Aegon huffed, a little hurt by this.

"Well that stings. But no, I would never take advantage of you." He looked at her seriously, urging her to believe he wouldn't joke about something like that. He wanted her to feel for him one day, wanted to be able to kiss her...marry her. But he wanted her to want him too.

Y/N relented and gestured towards the door.

"OK then. Lead the way."

Aegon leaned back, rocking on his heels as he awaited Y/N's response to the passageway opening, having explained how he'd found it.

"Well, what do you think?"

Y/N looked back at him, mouth opened partially in shock before she abruptly closed it.

"Aegon. This...is brilliant."

He positively beamed at her, not used to such praise, but happy to have impressed her with his discovery.

"It would be a shame to leave all those passages unexplored, don't you think?"

Y/N shot him a sly, conspiratorial look.

"An awful shame." And for the first time, Y/N held her hand out to him, inviting him to take it. He'd never moved so fast, interlacing their fingers quickly. It felt more intimate to hold her hand that way somehow.

Aegon tried to shush Y/N's giggles as they looked through a peephole into the council room and overheard Lord Tyland Lannister getting a talking down by his grandsire the Hand. But he himself was laughing so hard, it had turned into pained wheezes that left him clutching his stomach. Y/N was only making it worse as she mimicked the Lannister Lord's face.

"What was that noise?" King Viserys looked about him, clearly having heard their muffled laughter.

Aegon's eyes widened and he gently started pushing Y/N away from the peephole and further down the passageway.

When he thought they'd successfully found the entrance to his chambers again he pushed through with a sigh of relief, but froze as he realised he'd been mistaken...for there was his sister Rhaenyra packing belongings into a trunk for the journey on the morrow. This was not his room. He felt Y/N's skirts brush against his leg and quickly pushed her back through the entryway, closing the passageway with the sconce just before Rhaenyra turned to look at him, eyes wide with shock at his sudden apparition. He was glad at least that Y/N had not been caught if he was about to be told off for snooping.

"Aegon?"

"I'm sorry...sister." The word felt strange to describe their relationship. He'd been raised to be suspicious of her, to fear her even. But he did not want to. He stumbled over his words, trying to provide an explanation for his appearance in her room.

"I discovered this secret passage and was just exploring. I didn't mean to intrude upon you, I thought this was my room."

A strange expression came over Rhaenyra's face, her eyes glazing over slightly like she was remembering something. To his surprise, she did not shout at him or rebuke him at all.

"That is alright. I myself discovered the passage when I was about your age just exercise more discretion when you're exploring." This was the longest they'd held a conversation that Aegon could remember. And he felt himself wanting to grasp for more, for a reality in which they could have just been brother and sister.

"Thank you, Rhaenyra." The ghost of a smile lit her features at his appellation of her name.

"I remember when you couldn't say my name. You couldn't form the vowels properly so I taught you how to say it when you were 2."

Aegon felt his heart clench at the thought.

"I wish I could remember." He wished for more than that. He sought for something to say to Rhaenyra, anything to express his earnest wish they could form a sibling bond. After all, he wished to marry her daughter one day. But nothing came.

"Off you go, then."

The brisk morning air sent a shiver through Aegon as he made his way up the ramp to the galley that would take them to Driftmark. He could have flown there on Sunfyre, but Rhaenyra had forbidden Y/N from making the flight herself, saying it wouldn't be fair to her brothers whose dragons were too young to make the journey. And so he'd opted to stay with Y/N.

Aegon came to regret this choice later that day as the little she devil didn't seem grateful to have his company in the slightest, all but slamming the door to her cabin in his face.

"No, Aegon."

"Why not?"

He'd been trying to convince her to play a game of Cyvasse with him for the last half hour, but she'd positioned her body in her doorway blocking his entrance.

"I just don't feel up to it.

Aegon smirked at her.

"Coward. You just think you'll lose."

To his surprise, Y/N didn't bite back a smart retort.

"See this line right here?" She pointed at the slight inclination in ground level at the foot of her doorway.

"You stay on your side, and i'll stay on mine."

And in his shock at such a cold rebuttal, Y/N was able to slam her door shut before Aegon could stop her. He sulked off unhappily to his own room. Perhaps she really was feeling unwell. She had looked a little paler, perhaps.

Aegon grew truly concerned the next morning when Y/N didn't emerge from her chambers. He was bored and wanted her company, after all he had opted for the boat expressly to spend time with her. Hours passed, and his eyes kept flitting to her door as he sat on deck, so he made the decission to check on her.

He rapped his knuckles on her door impatiently, calling out to her.

"Go away." Aegon frowned. There was really no need and no explanation for her animosity. But then he heard the unmistakable sounds of vomiting and realised why Y/N hadn't wanted him in her chambers the night before or now.

"Are you sick?"

"Obviously, idiot." Alarmed by how weak Y/N's insult sounded, Aegon pushed his way through the door.

"Then I'm coming in."

He shut the door quickly behind him, turning around to see Y/N crouched over a bucket, looking as green as his mother's House colours.

"You look awful."

Y/N scowled.

"Ugh, don't you always think that anyway?"

Her face contorted with pain and she had to lean over to heave into the bucket again. Aegon moved towards her, gently pulling her hair back from her face and stroking her back. When she'd finished he grabbed her wrist, dragging her to sit on the bed.

"Sit."

Y/N was leant forward, her hand on her forehead.

"Still not a dog, Aegon. You can't order me about."

"Are you sure? You're doing an awful lot of yapping for being not a dog."

"I will hit you."

Aegon winked at her, pleased she was feeling well enough to bicker with him. She was not dying at least.

"I don't doubt it."

Removing the bucket from the room and leaving it outside for a servant to deal with, he returned to start gathering cloths and wetting them in a dish of water.

"What are you doing?" Y/N questioned him inquisitively.

"Helping."

He lightly pressed her shoulders so she would have to lie down and began dabbing at her face with the cool cloths, leaving one pressed against her forehead. He made her take some sips of water from a goblet he handed her for good measure.

"Better?"

"Yes. Though thoroughly embarrassed at having such pathetic sea legs considering my father is a Velaryon."

Aegon didn't know what to say to that. To him, it made perfect sense that Y/N would not be suited totally to the sea like a true Velaryon. She was made of fire and blood. So he said nothing, and a silence ensued, broken by Y/N.

"I'm bored."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Read to me."

"No."

"Please."

"Still no."

"But my head hurts and I can't keep my eyes open."

"It'll pass."

If she thought she was just going to bat her eyelashes at him and get whatever she wanted...

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it, looking at him imploringly, and Aegon caved.

"Oh fine then. What drivel do you have stashed away for me to read?" He approached the pile of books by her bedside table, flicking through their contents to find the least unappealing.

"Despicable, disgusting, simpering fool. Quelos, I'd say you should be ashamed but I never had that much faith in your reading tastes anyway.

"If you're going to be mean then leave." Y/N crossed her arms, looking genuinely embarrassed by his assessment of her literary tastes.

Smirking at her, he picked a book at random from the pile and settled down in the chair beside her to read. He surprised himself by how much he enjoyed reading to her, changing the pitch of his voice for different characters and performing a pretty compelling reenactment of the scorned lover's appeal for forgiveness, he thought. He was so animated that he didn't realise when Y/N had fallen asleep. He'd never seen her look so peaceful, and he realised it was because she wasn't scowling at him. He thought she looked lovely, ethereal even, but he much preferred when she was awake to glare at him. It was so much more fun, and deep down, he thought it was a mark of affection that was wholly theirs.

He must have fallen asleep not long after, for he awoke to find Y/N sitting up and reading, looking much better than she had.

"You snore very loudly."

"No I don't." Aegon frowned. He didn't think he did at least.

"How do you know?"

"Heathen." There was no malice in the insult, but a tenderness.

"First I'm ugly, then I'm a dog, now a heathen. I've had an interesting metamorphosis on this trip."

"You're not." Aegon replied before he could stop himself.

"Not?"

"Ugly. You're beautiful."

"You think I'm pretty?" No, he did not think her pretty. He thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Pretty wasn't enough for her.

"Beautiful. I said beautiful. Pretty is a pathetic word for what you are. If you wanted someone to call you pretty you should have asked that prick you've been spending so much time with."

Y/N looked momentarily stunned, then a flash of hurt crossed her features.

"He's not a prick. Are you making fun of me?"

Aegon felt his blood heat at her defence of the bastard he'd warned off her only a short while ago. Then, he was angry at her for seeming to prefer every other boy in the Keep over him, no matter what he did.

He rose to stand, only glancing back at her once he'd reached her door, one hand on the door knob.

"If you like."

Aegon steadfastly avoided Y/N for the rest of the journey, and once they reached Driftmark, he immediately set to getting as drunk as humanely possible. He gulped down cup after cup of wine, though he winced as it burned down his throat. He tried to ignore the disapproving looks Y/N kept shooting him, as well as the droning chatter of the other guests around him. Aemond came to stand by him quietly. "Whats happened between you and our niece?"

Was he really so transparent? Aegon downed another cup of wine before answering.

"Nothing. Why do you say that?"

"Because it looks like you're trying very hard to drink yourself to death, and you won't stop staring at each other."

Aegon frowned at the validity of his brother's assessment, his shoulders stiffening as he saw Y/N approaching them. When she was in hearing range, he raised his voice and turned to Aemond.

"She's not to my tastes, brother. I prefer creatures with very long legs." Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Y/N halt in her tracks, a look of hurt passing over her features, before she walked back in the opposite direction to rejoin her brothers. Aegon had wanted to make her jealous...to make her want him. But as so often was the case, his words had had the opposite effect, and she only seemed to hate him more.

Aegon sank down onto the steps overlooking the blackwater, letting his head fall back on the stone wall, his head beginning to ache and his vision to swim.

"You're drunk."

Aegon tilted his head to look at Y/N, though it was difficult to make out her figure in the oppressive darkness.

"Yes. The wine is good. What of it?"

The wine wasn't good. It was bitter and acrid, and burned Aegon's throat. But he had drank cup after cup nonetheless. He didn't drink it for the taste, but to forget his worries; the pressing weight of his mother's expectations, the bitterness he carried within him in the face of father's complete disregard for him, and the pain he felt at Y/N's inability to love him. His niece sank down next to him, her shoulder pressing against his as she leant her head against the wall with him to look up at the starless sky. Obfuscated by dark grey clouds, even the sky seemed sinister tonight.

"You don't have to be like this, you know." Y/N didn't have to clarify. He knew she meant his self-destructive behaviour and tendency to lash out when in pain. They'd always understood each other too well for any pretence. But he did wish she wouldn't be so direct about it. If she couldn't love him, then couldn't she at least let him drown himself in wine and sulk as he pleased? That was what the rest of his family did.

"Yes I do."

Y/N sighed, looked sadly at him with her beautiful eyes...her painfully beautiful eyes that haunted his every waking thought. He wished she would close them or direct them elsewhere so he didn't have to look at them.

"You pretend to be awful, but I know it's all just an elaborate charade..."

He interrupted her before she could finish. He didn't like where this was going. It was too raw, too vulnerable. He was too vulnerable under her penetrative stare.

"Maybe I am awful." It was better for her to dislike him, hate him even, than pity him. Her indifference to him he could just about bear...her pity he could not. He was pathetic to his grandsire, a disappointment to his mother, and nothing at all to his father. He couldn't be nothing to Y/N. A source of irritation, the object of her ire perhaps, but not nothing.

"No, you're not. You're my best friend."

Friend. The word rang sickeningly in Aegon's mind, only worsening his headache.

"Don't say that." He gritted out.

"What?"

"I don't want to be your friend." He watched her face fall at his unexpected animosity. She was innocent to her power to hurt him with just the idea that she saw him only as a friend. It wasn't her fault, but he couldn't bear for her to state it so assuredly. Was there not even a part of her that felt for him as he did her?

"Oh. I thought..."

"Well you thought wrong."

Panic tore through Aegon as Y/N brushed off her skirts and rose to leave, her face oddly scrunched up like she was trying hard not to cry. Against his better judgement, Aegon grabbed her hand in a vice like grip, pulling her back down next to him.

He despised how broken his own voice sounded to his ears as he whispered a silent plea.

"Don't leave. I'm sorry."

He didn't loosen his grip on her hand till he felt her relax, her arm brushing his again. He found even this touch comforting, a reassurance that someone cared about him, even if it was not in the way he wished. He was glad his mind was somewhat befuddled by his overindulgence of Velaryon wine. It made it easier for him to pretend Y/N loved him too.

"Why are you trying so hard to act like you hate me, only to apologise immediately afterwards. It seems awfully exhausting." Aegon smiled sadly at her. Of course she knew it was an act. She knew everything about him.

"Because I'd rather hate you than feel as I truly do for you. It's insufferable."

"What do you mean, Aegon?" And suddenly, he couldn't stand her ignorance to his own feelings, whether it was willful or not. If he had to suffer them, then she did too.

"I mean that everytime I see you with another stupid boy I want to feed him to Sunfyre, and I don't know whether I want to shout at you or kiss you stupid until you don't want to look at another boy ever again."

Y/N's mouth parted open in shock, her gasp only seeming to reaffirm what Aegon already felt he knew deep within his bones. She did not feel the same.

"So why don't you?"

Aegon stared at her, searching for anything that would give away the game she must surely be playing.

"You don't see me that way. Like you said. I'm your best friend." His voice was laced with sarcasm, the word 'friend' tasting like the bitter Velaryon wine on his tongue

"What if I did?"

"Did what?" He let his eyes flutter closed, tired of this game. It wasn't fun for him.

"Want you to kiss me?"

He jumped upright. She couldn't be serious. And yet she didn't look like she found any of this funny. He didn't dare to hope.

"Don't play with me, Y/N. Not now."

"I'm not...for once. I never liked any of those stupid boys as you call them. I just wanted you to look at me, really see me. As a girl you might love rather than just your little niece."

Aegon felt like he was walking in a dream, perhaps a symptom of the alcohol running through his bloodstream that was making him slightly lightheaded. He grinned at the girl in front of him, who might just be his girl after all.

"So you like me as well."

Y/N wrinkled her nose at him.

"Like is a strong word."

Aegon took her hand, chasing her eyeline as she shifted awkwardly under his gaze. She looked shy for once, her cheeks dusted with a lovely shade of pink.

"I think you might actually be madly in love with me based on how red your face is."

"It's rude to comment on a lady's appearance like that, Aegon. And don't get ahead of yourself."

He smirked cockily at her, feeling his confidence grow.

"You like it when I'm rude. Besides, I'm quite the catch."

Y/N scoffed, wrenching her hand from his, though he quickly reclaimed it.

"I'll have you know I'm very much sought after and admired in the Keep. Didn't you see how taken that nobleman was with me?"

Aegon tilted his head down, whispering against Y/N's ear.

"I remember you looking at me when he was looking at you."

Y/N's eyes widened, though she did not deny it. Aegon felt a rush of excitement pass through him, felt the blood pounding in his ears as he saw her eyes flit to his lips.

Right then Aegon decided he'd teased Y/N enough. Now he wanted to reassure her of how he felt about her.

"I think I'm a little in love with you actually. I'd better kiss you to be sure." He tried to sound playful, light hearted. But he so wanted her to say yes.

Y/N looked nervous for a moment before smiling at him

"OK."

Aegon moved slowly, just in case Y/N wanted to change her mind, shifting closer to kneel before her. He tentatively placed a hand on her waist, more gentle than he thought himself capable of, and pressed his lips to her briefly. Pulling away to guage her reaction, he nearly laughed when he saw that her eyes were shut, her long eyelashes grazing her cheeks as she tilted her head up, seeking his lips. Then he kissed her again, more fervently this time, until she started to move her lips against his with a degree of clumsiness he found endearing before finding a rhythm. He'd kissed other girls before, though not one of them had mattered to him, and he never much cared for it. Kissing Y/N made him feel like all his nerves were on fire, and each brush of her soft lips against his as they moulded together made him feel an elation quite like flying on dragonback..like he was soaring. Y/N shifting suddenly pulled him from his joy, and he pulled away, concerned he'd stepped too far.

"What's wrong?"

Y/N looked sheepish, toying with the rings on her fingers.

"I don't know where to put my hands."

Aegon smiled tenderly at her.

"Anywhere."

He kissed her again but quickly grew distracted by her continued fidgeting. He'd expressly granted her permission to touch him and was more than a little disappointed she hadn't taken him up on his offer. Taking hold of her hands himself, he placed them on his shoulders. Y/n relaxed against him then, gripping his shoulders to pull him closer. He shuddered under even this innocent touch, feeling overwhelmed by the reality that Y/N loved him.

Y/N pulled away to catch her breath, pushing against his shoulders so she could look up into his face. "Well? Are you in love with me or not?"

Aegon pretended to think. "inconclusive. Perhaps we should try again to be sure." Y/N promptly hit him on the arm, hard. Of course, he'd fall in love with such a heathen. Aegon wrapped his arms around her, pressing their foreheads together. He wanted her to know he was only jesting. Of course he loved her.

"Yes, you silly girl."

Aegon stroked her cheek experimentally, only having read about such affectionate gestures in the ridiculous novels Y/N had forced him to read to her. He did still hope he was doing it right.

"I'm going to marry you one day."

"Are you now?"

Aegon blinked. Shit. Perhaps that was too far or he sounded too sure of himself, too possessive. He quickly fumbled to amend the error.

"Only if you want to...then I'll go and talk to our mothers."

Y/N laughed at him, leaning forward to rest her head against his shoulder, causing him to still completely.

"I think you'd better. Maybe when you've sobered up a bit. You're slurring a little now, my stupid boy." And the way she called him hers had Aegon leaning forward to kiss her again.

The young prince and princess entered the Velaryon halls hand in hand. Though Aegon felt something was wrong almost immediately as he heard raised voices. They followed the direction of the voices, being admitted by a pair of knights. Aegon dropped Y/N's hand at the sight before him, horrified by the blood covering his brother's face and the gaping wound where his eye should have been. His mother was shouting, but he couldn't make out what had happened amongst the din. Glancing around the room, he could see that Jace and Luke were also covered in blood, though with no visible injuries. What could possibly have happened in the space of time he'd been absent?

Aegon rushed over to his mother.

"What's happened?"

She pointed angrily in the direction of his nephews.

"They attacked your brother, took his eye. Where were you when your brother was being set upon?" She slapped him then, and Aegon looked at her in shock. He heard a gasp and looked to see Y/N over by her brothers, her hand covering her mouth. A wave of guilt swept over him. He'd been with her, and for a moment, he had been truly happy. But he couldn't say that the reason he had not been there to defend his brother was because he'd been too busy kissing and confessing his love to his niece.

He lowered his head to the ground with shame, standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

His mother turned away from him as the doors burst open to admit Rhaenyra, Rhaenys, and Corlys.

"What is the meaning of this." The sea snake's voice boomed across the hall, and the room erupted with noise as each party sought to tell their side first.

Aegon got the gist of it eventually that Aemond had claimed Vhagar to Baela's displeasure, that a brawl had broken out and Aemond had been left to fend off four children single handedly before Lucerys Velaryon cut out his eye. Aegon felt appalled at his nephew's actions and then with himself for not being there to stop them.

"He called us bastards."

Aegon's head snapped up at Jacaerys' accusation, feeling panic creep in. They had never addressed the fact so directly before. It was the worst kept secret in Kings Landing, but a secret nonetheless. Viserys approached Aemond, a dangerous look on his mottled face.

"Where did you hear such vile accusations? Tell me, Aemond."

Aegon watched as Aemond's eye shifted to their mother, their father following his eyeline. He silently prayed that Aemond wouldn't say he had heard it from their mother. Aegon didn't know what Viserys would do to her if he knew she'd spoken badly of Rhaenyra, ever father's favourite.

"Aegon"

Aegon's eyes widened, his whole body tensing as Viserys turned his gaze on him instead.

"Me?"

"And where did you hear such lies, boy." Aegon couldn't think of an answer, which only seemed to anger his father more as he shouted into his face, making him jump. "Aegon!"

He wouldn't implicate his mother in this, and so there was only one thing for him to do. He had to tell the truth his father refused to accept. He took a deep breath and locked eyes with Y/N, trying to express to her without words how sorry he was for what he was about to say.

"We know, father. Everyone knows. Just look at them."

He wanted Y/N to know that he didn't mean her. Never her. She was different, a true Targaryen no matter her parentage. But he had to choose his brother, his mother, and to watch Y/N's face that had only a short while ago looked at him with love fall at his betrayal.

"This interminable infighting must cease. We are a family. Now make your apologies."

Aegon felt disgust at his father's dismissal of Aemond's suffering, simply telling them to make their apologies. He'd lost an eye, it could never be so simple.

"That is not sufficient. My son has lost an eye."

Aegon shifted closer to his mother as she argued with his father, preparing to step between them if Viserys raised a hand to her.

"What would you have me do?" Perhaps acknowledge your other children, Aegon thought bitterly.

"There is a debt to be paid I shall have one of her son's eyes in return." Aegon felt his heart begin to beat faster with fear at what his father would do at such a suggestion, feeling his shoulders sag in relief when Ser Criston refused to take Luke's eye. His relief was short-lived as his mother grabbed his father's dagger from its sheath and made as if to take the boy's eye herself. With adrenaline fuelling him, he quickly crossed the room and took hold of Y/N's arm, pulling her out of the way though she struggled against him.

"Let me go."

"Not until it's safe."

Aegon gasped as his mother cut Rhaenyra, a heavy silence enveloping the room.

In his shock his grip on Y/N loosened and she tried to get out of his hold. He quickly made a grab for her wrist to stop her.

"I'm sorry Y/N. I had to say it."

She yanked her arm away from him, her voice like ice.

"You as good as called me a bastard."

"You have to understand Y/N. My father, gods know what he would have done to my brother, my mother."

Nothing he said seemed to help. Y/N's eyes were welling up with tears and she wouldn't even look at him.

Placing a hand on her waist, he whispered a desperate plea for only her to hear.

"Please, Quelos. You know I love you."

She took hold of his hand only to remove it from her waist, taking a step back from him.

"No I don't."

And then she was rushing away from him to catch up with her mother and brothers, leaving Aegon there to stare after her.

Aegon paced outside his mother's quarters, waiting for his grandsire Otto to leave so he could speak with her. Otto seemed surprised to find him there once he emerged from her chambers, the hour was late. But he said nothing as he set off down the hall and Aegon entered his mother's chambers before the door had even swung shut.

"Mother, I must speak with you."

His mother sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Not now, Aegon."

He closed the door behind him.

"It cannot wait. I've come to request your permission to marry Y/N Velaryon."

His mother gawked at him, grasping blindly behind her to steady herself on a chair.

"What can you mean by this? You wish to marry the girl whose brother maimed your own this very evening?"

Aegon flinched at the harshness in her voice.

"It would surely help to put an end to the conflict between the two sides of our family...and I love her, mother."

"I will not allow you to sully yourself by marrying one of your sister's bastard children. You are a true born Targaryen. Y/N is not worthy of any of my sons."

Aegon straightened his shoulders.

"Don't speak about her like that, mother."

She looked shocked at him talking back to her like that, but it pained him to hear his mother speak badly of the girl he loved.

"That's the end of the conversation, Aegon. We're leaving tomorrow."

"But, mother..."

"Now, Aegon. Get to bed."

Turning from him to gaze into the fire, Aegon realised with a heavy heart that his mother would hear no more of his plea for Y/N's hand that night, and he quietly left the room.

Neither Rhaenyra nor her children were on the boat home to the King's Landing the next day, and Aegon leant over the deck railings staring at Driftmark as it faded into the distance. He hated having to go even another day without speaking to Y/N, knowing she must still be angry with him. How could everything have turned to ash so quickly, all of his hopes and dreams turning to cinders. But she would have to return to King's Landing for her dragon. They all would. He would make her understand then...

Days passed, and there was still no sign of Y/N returning. His mother continued to avoid answering his questions about when Rhaenyra would return, and all of his attempts to bring up a marriage between himself and Y/N.

There was a heavy mist covering King's Landing when Rhaenyra finally returned with her children. Aegon had woken to find servants milling about the hallways carrying objects from Rhaenyra's room and from Y/N's, much to his confusion. He'd headed to his mother's chambers to find out what was happening.

"Your sister is taking her children to live on Dragonstone. She returned this morning to arrange for the transportation of her belongings and for her children's dragons. She has likely left by now."

Aegon had dashed from the room, sprinting down the stairwell that led to the main courtyard. Surely his mother had to be wrong. Rhaenyra wouldn't even let Jace and Luke fly their dragons to Driftmark. Dragonstone was a similar distance. Y/N couldn't be gone.

But he was too late. Out of breath from his exhertions, he looked up to the skies only to sight Rhaneyra's dragon Syrax in the distance and the unmistakable grey scales of Y/N's dragon as they flew over King's Landing. And as he watched on, Grey Ghost's scales blended with the mist until he could no longer see them.

Quelos~ Star

This was so ridiculously long! Even if something seems unimportant it will be later.

Onto the time jump...

Tagging:

@callsignwidow @lady-dragon-rider

[cailinsblog]

The Café by the Rink-Nico hischer

Nico hischer x reader

Masterlist

It was an ordinary Tuesday morning in Newark, New Jersey, when Nico Hischier first walked into *Maggie’s Corner Café*—a quaint, family-owned spot nestled just down the street from the Prudential Center. The place had an old-school charm, with mismatched furniture, the hum of indie music in the background, and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. It was a cozy hideaway, a far cry from the bustling streets just outside.

Y/N had been working there for a few months, ever since she moved to the city. She loved the routine—the familiar faces who came in for their daily fix of caffeine and conversation. Then, one day, Nico Hischier walked in.

He wasn’t wearing his Devils jersey, just a hoodie and a baseball cap, trying to blend in with the regulars. He ordered a black coffee with a shot of espresso. Simple. Direct.

"Coming right up," Y/N said, smiling at him without thinking too much of it. He was just another customer.

But the next day, Nico was back. And the next. Every morning, at exactly the same time, he’d walk in, and she’d already know what to make for him.

“Good morning, Neeks, your usual?” she’d say, her voice light and familiar.

Nico would chuckle, his eyes sparkling as he leaned against the counter. “You know it.”

It became their unspoken routine. While Nico’s fame followed him everywhere else, in the café, he was just a guy who loved a good cup of coffee. He’d sip it slowly, chat about the weather or the team, and then slip out just as quietly as he came.

But one morning, everything changed.

Nico walked in with an entourage. His teammates. They filled up the small café, taking seats at the corner booth and laughing amongst themselves. Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t let it show. She greeted them all with a friendly smile, jotting down their coffee orders.

Nico leaned over the counter, his voice lowered but full of intention. “We’re getting coffee for the whole team today.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile still warm. “Okay... what can I get for you guys?”

Each player had their own preferences—lattes, cappuccinos, iced coffees—and Y/N moved quickly to get their orders just right. Nico stayed close, watching her work, a hint of pride in his eyes.

When she handed them their drinks, Nico pushed a stack of bills toward her. “For the team. They’ll be back. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Y/N glanced down at the money, a little stunned. “You’re... seriously?”

“Yeah.” Nico smiled, his tone serious but kind. “The boys love your coffee. Trust me, it’s not just the caffeine.”

The team’s visits became more frequent after that. The café buzzed with excitement, not just from the regulars, but from the growing crowd of fans who started coming in, hoping to catch a glimpse of a player or hear an inside joke. As word spread, the New Jersey Devils started supporting the café, covering the costs to help it stay afloat. The little family-run café that once struggled to keep the doors open was now thriving, thanks to Nico’s quiet generosity.

One afternoon, as Nico sat by the window, Y/N came over to check on him, setting down a fresh cup of coffee.

“You’re always here,” she teased, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Don’t you have a game to get to?”

“I do,” Nico replied, his voice low, “but I had to stop by. Got something for you.”

He handed her a small envelope. She took it, surprised. Inside was a note with the Devils logo on it.

“We’re sponsoring the café now,” he explained, watching her face as she processed the words. “The team wants to make sure you stay here for a long time.”

Y/N’s heart skipped. “Wait, really? You—you did this?”

Nico shrugged, a modest smile crossing his face. “It’s nothing. You’ve built something great here. We just wanted to help.”

A wave of emotion hit her. It wasn’t just about the business—it was about Nico’s belief in her, in the place she’d built with her own two hands. She couldn’t find the words to thank him, so she just nodded, touched.

And then, one evening, after another high-energy game, Nico found her sitting at the café, the place quieter than usual as the evening rush had passed. The lights above the counter were warm, the late-night hum of the city outside making everything feel a little more intimate.

“Hey,” Nico said, his voice soft. “Did you enjoy the game?”

“It was amazing,” she replied, smiling at him. “I never thought I’d be sitting courtside, watching you score.”

Nico grinned, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer than usual. “I think I made a goal just for you.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You didn’t have to. But thank you. It was... special.”

There was a quiet pause, and then, without another word, Nico stepped closer. His hand gently brushed against hers on the counter. The touch was electric, simple, but full of intent.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice a little unsure, like he was testing the waters. “I know this is a little crazy, but... I like spending time with you. More than just coffee and small talk.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart racing. “I like it too, Neeks.”

His name was a soft whisper on her lips. And that was all it took. The distance between them vanished in an instant, and Nico’s lips found hers in a kiss that was slow at first, almost tentative, as if they were both savoring the moment. It was gentle but filled with all the words neither of them had said yet—the unspoken truth of what had been building for months.

When they pulled apart, both of them were smiling, their eyes locking in a way that felt new but also familiar.

“Good morning, Neeks,” Y/N whispered, her voice soft and full of meaning. “Your usual?”

Nico chuckled, his thumb gently tracing her hand. “You know it,” he replied, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the smile on his lips.

And just like that, the coffee shop where it all began had become the place where everything changed. Where the ordinary became extraordinary. And where two people, brought together by a cup of coffee, found something more than either of them could have expected.

[thebisexualdogdad]

6. Post-coital snuggles that certainly don’t mean anything.  Between R and Felicia Hardy, Morgana, or Maggie from the Charmed reboot.

(I couldn't decide)

Felicia Hardy x GN!reader (no pronouns used but male leaning)

“Damn Y/N, you really know how to take care of a girl,” Felicia chuckles, as you kiss along her neck, coming down from her fourth orgasm of the night.

“Well I have Felicia Hardy in my bed, I had to bring my A game,” you tease, leaving one last kiss on her lips before laying down beside her.

You and Felicia have hooked up quite regularly over the years but you agreed that it didn't mean anything, just two people who needed to feed their fix.

Usually this was the part where she would get up to leave, preferring to sleep in her own bed but instead she reached down to grab the sheets and pulled them up over you two.

“What are you doing?” You chuckle.

“What does it look like I'm doing? I'm going to sleep,” she replies playfully.

“You've never stayed the night before,” you tease, “you're not getting soft on me are you Hardy? Or am I just so good in bed you can't stay away?”

“Don't let it go to your head Y/N, there's a snowstorm outside and I don't feel like driving home in this weather,” she laughs, turning over onto her side facing away from you, “and don't think this means I want to cuddle.”

You laugh and soon drift off to sleep, waking up the next morning with Felicia's head on your chest and her arm around your waist.

She shifts slightly, wiping away sleep from her eyes.

“I thought you didn't cuddle,” you tease.

“Shut up, this is purely for warmth because it's so cold,” she huffs quietly before flipping onto her side again, “now do you want to be the big spoon or what.”

You smile and reposition yourself behind her, Felicia fitting perfectly against you.

She sighs contently when your arm goes around her, keeping her close.

Sure, this didn't mean anything at all.

[resowrites]

Holy Grail - drabble.

Summary: Henry develops a fixation for a certain part of his pregnant wife’s body…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC

Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, sexy talk, language, dialogue heavy, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 635

A/N: My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Holy Grail - drabble.

"Whoa--"

"Henry, get out, I'm trying to get dry!" He quickly turned around as she grabbed the towel from the bed and clutched it to her chest.

"I'm sorry! I came in here to fetch Kal so I could give him his tea!" But the pooch was still fast asleep at the foot of their bed.

"Well you better get out of here before he wakes up, you know how protective of me he is at the moment."

"I know, the soppy git…"

"He's soppy?! You almost had a panic attack yesterday when you thought I ate shrimp! And he picked up following me into every room from you!"

"Yeah well at least I don't guard you when you're in the shower--"

"Well thank God for Kal, otherwise you'd be leering at me through the glass!"

"At least then I'd get a look at them! Come on, drop that towel, and lemme see if I can't tune in for the news and weather--"

"Out, now! I wanna get dry in peace."

"Then here, let me help…" Henry took a few steps forward only for her to dart under the bed so she could fetch something. "What the hell is the broom doing under there?!"

"I had to bring it up last night to squish a spider on the ceiling and now I'm going to use it to get rid of another pest."

"My lady may call me whatever she wishes. For she is beautiful, rich, and got huge… tracts of land!"

"That's it! I'm not enduring Monty Python quotes. You're banned from my presence the rest of the evening. Be gone!" She tried to jab with the broom only for him to dart out of the way.

"Aww come on, when was the last time we got to knock boots?"

"Last bloody night!"

"Then you should be warmed up by now!"

"God give me strength… anyway I thought you just wanted to cop a feel?"

"Well I'll take whatever I can get--"

"Yeah well by the time I'm finished with this broom, you'll be able to sweep the floor!"

"Charming, all I wanted was to enjoy the beauty of my pregnant wife! Honestly, it looks like you're holding up two ten-gallon hats--"

"God you belong on a bloody list… can't you go one night without being a pervert?"

"No, but I'll tell you what, you flash me lefty and I'll give you a hundred quid."

"A hundred quid?"

"Yeah, would you prefer cash or bank transfer?"

"Is that all you think I'm worth?!"

"Well, it's not like you're giving me a handful!"

"And how much would you pay for that? I was thinking of redoing the kitchen…"

"What? Why? I did a good job of the tiling!"

"Henry, two fell off just this morning!"

"Then let little Henry have a dance in your ballroom and I'll fix it for free!"

"Will you also disappear back downstairs?"

"God, you always want to get rid of me!"

"Yeah, cos you get on my sodding tits!"

"I bloody wish!" She looked up at the ceiling and prayed for guidance.

"Henry, give me one good reason why I should have sex with you tonight."

"I can do better than that, I can regale you with song."

"What?!" Henry cleared his throat.

"Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is great. If a sperm is wasted, God gets quite irate!" She perched on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands.

"I can't actually believe I'm having your child…"

"I can, especially after last night. Now get thee to bed, and let's go for round two--"

"Really? You're reciting Shakespeare now?"

"Well I thought that might do the trick--"

"Fat chance."

"Why not? I can leave the money on the bedside table--" she chucked a pillow at him.

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo @geralts-yenn @livesinfantasyland @jackjanira

[bubu-pharmacy-doctor]

Ascending the worn stone stairs that wound their way to the pharmacy, a slender woman moved with an ethereal grace. Her demeanor was an enigma, a mask of neutrality and guardedness concealing her thoughts. Unyielding eyes, sharp as obsidian, remained fixed on the figure stationed behind the weathered counter, who engaged in a peculiar dialogue with a coiled serpent.

Adorning her back were two elegantly crafted sword hilts, a testament to her proficiency in the martial arts. Despite her detached facade, beads of perspiration betrayed an underlying tension. It was a contradiction — an aloof figure bearing the weight of unseen burdens.

As her journey led her closer to the counter, her gaze fell upon a small child adorned with a talisman beneath her hat. A subtle disdain curled her lips, and with a disapproving click of her tongue, she gracefully stepped away from the innocent presence. The woman then positioned herself before the pharmacy's keeper, a man with locks of verdant green.

"I was told that this is where I could find Dr. Baizhu. I need his assistance" -@ask-ishara-narami

Ah, yes, that's me. Would you prefer to speak with me in private or is the front room fine?

[rosiestalez]

I See Red

TomWelling!Superman x afab!reader

Word Count: 664

A/N: Smallville (as Lois would call him) has been aged up to be 20. Post graduating highschool. I’m only on season 4 at the moment so the characters are only from the first 4 seasons (also not my gif!).

Warnings: Little bit of RedKryptonite!Clark, suggestive language, angsty asf, bad grammar, mention of family member death. I think that’s it!

Happy Reading!

It was one hell of a stormy day in Smallville, closely imitating twister weather. You’re sitting up in the Kent Hay loft watching the rain pound over the farm, it was relaxing. This weather put your mind an ease, you weren’t thinking about school, the Talon, or Clark. You hear a voice, you jump turning to face the one calling you.

“Hey!”, Chloe waves, “Sorry, I- didn’t mean to spook you.” She smiles walking to sit across from you on the bay window seat. “I heard you were staying with the Kent’s, and I wanted to drop by and check on you, I know things have been rough since Clark disappeared.” She reaches her hand to your shoulder.

“I’m okay”, you flash a fake smile turning you gaze back to the rolling rain. “How’s Lana?”, eyes still fixed on the rain.

“She’s not great, but she’s also not okay”, Chloe removes her hand from your shoulder.

“Oh”, is all you can muster up.

“Why don’t you go talk to her, and ask her for yourself?”, this question removes your eyes from the downpour.

“Why? She’s not talking to me. She thinks I’M the reason Clark left.”

“I doubt that’s true, y/n. You’re her BEST friend.”

“WAS”, you sneer.

“No IS”, she replies. “I think you should go to the Talon, and TALK to her.” She stands up, grabs your arm tugging you off the seat. “Gosh you’re so weird, I would definitely put you on my SECRET wall of weird if you’re weren’t human.”, you roll your eyes. Your body is hesitant to stand up but you finally do, following Chloe out of the Hayloft. “You and Clark are really are perfect for each other.”

“Yeah, I guess so”, you chuckle. You file into Chloe’s new red beetle and head into town. After while, the rain soaks back up into the clouds, and you are finally at Lana’s coffee shop. Your heart pounding with anxiety, “I don’t want to do this, I have nothing to say to her.”

“Oh yes you do”, Chloe got out of the drivers side walking around to you and pulling you out of the car. You entered the shop, you pick out the table farthest from the bar where Lana is cleaning the after math of the rainstorm rush.

“Chloe, I don’t want to be here.” You put your head down on the table and let out a long winded dramatic whine.

“That sucks, but you guys need to talk”, she rubs your back. “HEY! Lana!”, she waves her over. Lana walks over smiling, you lift your head up smiling back.

“Hey! Chloe! Y/n!”, she exclaims, she doesn’t see upset at all, or maybe she’s putting on face to save Chloe some embarrassment. “Usuals?”

“YES?”, you and Chloe exclaim in unison.

“Got it! Two. VANILLA iced lattes coming up!”, she walks away making her way back to the coffee bar.

“See, she’s not upset! You’re fine.”, Chloe gestures.

“She doesn’t seem like it, but Lana has always been good at putting on a face. You and I both know that”, you respond.

After about 5 minutes Lana returns with three blue coffee mugs, “I need a break, I think I’m gonna join you girls for some coffee, if you don’t mind!”, she sits down in the chair across from you and Chloe.

“Totally!”, Chloe states. You guys chat for a bit about school, life, and nothing about Clark; you preferred this. Lana has been your best friend since Kindergarten, and you guys have made it a point to not let petty one sided drama get in between your friendship. The Clark situation left as quickly as it came. Chloe was shocked at the lack of Clark talk, maybe she wanted some drama for her Tourch gossip.

After your coffee dinner you ended up back at the Kent’s getting ready for bed, 5 am comes quickly, you put your hair in a braid and put on Clark’s primary red sweatshirts and a pair of boxers and climb into his bed that you were borrowing. You dose off after 20 minutes. Your sleep was restful for the first hour. You jolt awake from the bed shifting beside you.

“You look peaceful”, the voice was familiar, but in your groggy state you couldn’t pin it down.

“Wha-“, you roll over turning on his bedside lamp, and jump spooked by the boy sitting next to you shirtless on his bed. “Oh-oh my gosh CLARK?!”, you whisper scream as to not wake his parents. You reach your hand out to touch his face in awe, “oh-oh wow!”, a smile fills your face.

“Hey baby”, his smile was alluring, but it wasn’t normal, it was full of mischief. “Sorry I did not mean to wake you.” He adds running his hands through you hair sweeping back the whispies blocking your face.

“Clark, what are you doing here?”, your voice laced with concern.

“I thought it was time to come home.”

“Wow”, you huff, crossing your arms slightly pushing your boobs up. Clark stares intently at your chest. “CLARK! You’re a perv!”, you swiftly uncross your arms hitting him on the shoulder as hard as you can. He chuckles.

“Sorry, I can’t help it.” He lays down next you stripping off his pants so he’s left in only Calvin Klein briefs. You can’t help, but use your “X-Ray” vision, “Hey you pervert. I’m trying to get some rest”, he mocks. He rolls over you to turn off the lamp. He wraps you in his arms and both of you drift off to sleep.

You feel something growing against your back, you lean into him acknowledging that you feel his hardening dick unintentionally. He draws you in closer, kissing down your neck as a response to your movements. He sends shivers down your spine, he snakes his hands underneath the sweatshirt lightly stroking the bare skin of your back. “So soft”, Clark whispers against your neck, “I missed your skin.”

He’s acting like nothing has happened, like he didn’t disappear for 2 months to who knows where. You looked for him in Metropolis, Gotham, other parts of Kansas and yet you couldn’t find your stupid boyfriend especially when you needed him the most. Your grandpa passed away and it left you homeless and due to your proximity to the Kent’s they let you stay during summer before the Fall semester of KU began. You appreciate their kindness, but for some reason Mr. Kent wanted you, the girl with the pretty nails and terrible sleep schedule to wake up at 5am to “pull your share” which meant mucking stalls and lifting heavy bales of hay. You were completely okay with this set-up you love being outside and around animals although the hay rash is a tad bothersome.

“Do your parents know your back?”, you whisper eyes still closed.

“No.” His voice was stern, like he was angry at you for even asking.

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry I’ll tell them in the morning”, he follows, “we aren’t waking up at five am, as a member of the Kent family I declare you have an off day.” You smile exhaling a sigh from your nose.

“Fine”, he smiles into your neck wrapped you in closer.

The sun creeps through his curtains and an annoying screeching fills the room. You wrestle to turn off the alarm clock blaring in your ear. You finally get it off, you feel emptiness beside you, ‘where is he?’ You get out of bed sliding on a pair of house shoes and stumble out the room, down the stairs, and begin making your way out the house to the hayloft where you suspect Clark to be hiding. You don’t see him, but the storm cellar door is open in the distance. You knew this ship was hiding there, you know Clark’s secret, but not everything. You didn’t know why he disappeared, or why he was acting like a complete ass before he left. You see a red light beaming through the dark room. “Good morning”, you say waltzing down the stairs.

“Hey.” He doesn’t turn around, his eyes fixed on the glowing red rock.

“What is that?”, you ask coming closer and wrapping your arms around his toned stomach.

“Red Kryptonite”, he answers eyes still enamored.

“Oh.” You give him a tight hug, sighing into his back, “what does it do?”

“Changes me.”

“What do you mean?”

“It makes me feel like me,” he pauses, “like Kal- El.”

“Who?”

“That’s my birth name”, he answers.

“So the real you disappears for a long period of time, doesn’t tell anyone where you are, and comes back out of the blue acting like everything is okay?”, you break away from him. He finally removes his gaze from the rock, closing the led box.

He sighs, “I don’t FEEL anything, that’s what I like. I FEEL so much, sometimes I don’t want to. I want to make my decisions based off myself sometimes and not care about how others feel”, Clark exclaims.

“You can’t be serious right now”, you argue irritations flooding your voice. He just looks at you with those dumb baby blues. “I swear! That was so selfish of you, why did you do it? Because you couldn’t handle the fact that I was leaving Smallville? Were you scared? Why Clark? Why would you be so selfish at a time I needed YOU most”, tears fill your beautiful bright eyes. You begin crying, sliding down onto the ground, emotions completely uncontrollable. He sighs, sitting down next you wrapping his big arms around you pulling you into a comforting hug.

“I thought I told you were sleeping in?” He chuckles. You sniffle staring up at his blue eyes yet again.

“Clark, I’m not playing with you I’m very upset and I think you owe me an explanation.”

“You will get one, but not right now. Right now you get an apology”, he begins softly stroking your messy curls that peaked out from last night’s braid and kisses the top of your head. “I’m sorry y/n, I never meant to hurt you” he adds rocking you in his arms.

“Well you did, did you know papa died the day after you left?”

“Yeah, I was at the funeral.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I couldn’t, and that’s because I was being selfish”, you hum at his response.

“I’m hungry, I think your mom is awake. Let’s go eat some breakfast and we can talk about this later”, you smile standing up, reaching out your hand to pull him off the ground. He pulls you back down with his ‘super strength’. He kisses your lips deeply, a kiss you missed so much. You match his rhythm hands tangling in each others hair.

“I love you”, he breaks away from the kiss looking lovingly into your eyes. You smile leading him out of the storm cellar to Mrs. Kent in the kitchen laying out freshly cooked pancakes.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Perhaps a oneshot of oppie experiencing possessiveness and jealousy for the first time which could turn him into a desperate man in a way?

I’m curious to see how you would explore that because Oppie was a womanizer and I feel like that does not come with the possessiveness and jealousy.

Warnings: jealousy, slight misogyny, age difference, some fluff, Robert’s pov

-thank you for the request, hope you enjoy lovie

The town gathered near a restaurant by the ocean, celebrating our success with the testing of the atomic bomb. 

The weather was warm, crickets chirping while I walked hand and hand with my wife Y/N, the wind bellowing through the blades of grass.

She was rather stunning, wearing a simplistic black dress, her hair tied up professionally with a hint of makeup. Though I preferred her natural self, she still had a way of radiating and capturing the attention from any room she set foot in.

Before we were too far past the door way, a man approached her, offering to buy her a drink. I didn’t think anything of it at first, wishing for her to simply enjoy herself on a beautiful night like tonight.

As I carried on in conversation with strangers I hardly knew, time seemed to pass, and I glanced down at my watch realizing it had been nearly thirty minutes she’d been at the bar.

She never was a drinker, only having a light rum and coke every now and then, never went past a singular drink.

When I was about to excuse myself to go check on her, I stopped in my tracks, witnessing the scene unfold before my very own eyes. 

She was still there, the drink she ordered hardly touched still sitting on the bartop, while a man was smiling, failing at hiding the amber blush on his face. 

She was laughing harmoniously, completely intrigued by whatever the man was saying. He hadn’t touched her yet, but their proximity was far too close for me to be comfortable.

Her eyes connected with mine from across the room, perhaps in an attempt to see if I was noticing.

Containing my composure, another man walked toward me, wanting to discuss the physics aspect of my endeavors.

As he began talking, the words coming from him seemed to go in one ear and out the other, which was a shame due to my field of study, and knowledgeable suggestions.

I couldn’t stop glancing over, wanting nothing more to intervene, yet I didn’t. I was not a jealous man, nor controlling of my wife. I wanted to see her enjoy herself, see her socializing and putting in the time and effort for my successes as I do hers.

When he leaned in closer, whispering something surely inappropriate in her ear, I found myself becoming more and more concerned, the odd feeling of jealousy consuming my very being.

He was a young, wise man whom I had taught at the college, much closer to her age range, I hadn’t recognized him until now, it had been years since I’d seen him.

His name was James, and much to my dismay, they had grown to be very close friends. Yet for some odd reason I resonated with a profound feeling of jealousy, to which I’d never felt before.

I began to wonder if this was how my ex wife felt. Uncommon, and indescribable, I wasn’t sure if I should approach or watch from afar, as if I wanted to put my wife to the test.

Regardless, of how terrible that may sound there was no denying the longing, lusting gaze James portrayed to Y/N.

My stomach bubbled like a boiling pot with unease, unsure of what actions I should take if any. 

I kept my distance, trying to give my wife the benefit of the doubt and not wanting to appear as a jealous, controlling husband.

After a few moment she excused herself to the restroom, taking her purse along with her and I noticed he began to fix his hair in the mirror behind the bar, pulling what looked like to be breath mints from his pockets. Was he planning to kiss my wife in front of myself and everyone else in the room?

My thoughts ran ragged and before I knew it she was walking back from the bathroom and I found my feet wandering.

Approaching the bar, attempting to hide my concern, which I was not quite good at might I add. She hadn’t glanced in my direction, unknowing I was nearly almost beside here until I ran my hand down her arm, pulling her closely to my side with gentleness.

“Oh, sweetheart! James was just telling me how he traveled to Oxford. Did you know he can speak three different languages? Impressive isn’t it?” Temptation to wipe that grin off of his face washed over me like a freight train yet I resided, simply smiling kindly, holding my tongue.

“Please, you’re by far more intuitive than I ever will be. Robert I must tell you, you’re a lucky man, Y/N’s one hell of a woman.” He extended his hand to shake mine as I was stood there stunned by his words and the audacity to say it to my face in front of her.

As a man myself, I knew that very well to be code for “i’d fuck your wife if I could, if the opportunity were to arise” and here she was blushing next to me. I bit down on my tongue in aggravation, putting forth my best attempt at a friendly smile as I shook his hand.

I tried to convince myself that he never would be able to get his hands on my sweet Y/N but I couldn’t help to think of my swift way of words with women in the past and how easy it was to charm a woman, sometimes leading her on. I knew how James was operating and I refused to stay here and watch it any longer.

I stayed near her side, eventually ushering her back home, to where I desperately needed to be.

I was not an angry man, nor irrational and I refused to blamedher for any of it. Instead blaming myself for acting like an insecure, childish boy, knowing that perhaps she could do better than me, maybe she was settling out of fear of breaking my heart.

Walking into the bedroom, I shed myseld of my clothes and found myself, sitting on the bed replaying the interactions in my head, creating obscure scenarios of imagining my wife leaving me for a man more around her age, with similar interests. Pleasuring her, picturing her moans, and the different positions she could be in.

Hearing the bathroom door open, I lifted my weary head to find my wife standing there, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

In that moment I truly took in her extraordinary, delicate facial features, the way her body captivated a melodic, shining aura of kindness, and attractiveness.

She was magnificent, and the thought of possibly losing her shattered my heart, a feeling I’d never worried about with past lovers.

Without saying a word, she examined my desperate, saddened state and took a seat next to me on the bed, reading me like a book she’s read a trillion times.

“What’s wrong love? You only trace your wedding ring when something is on your mind. Did I do something wrong?” I immediately stopped her, insisting it was nothing she did, but moreso my thought process of others actions.

My chest felt heavy, a sour, bitter taste of jealousy settling on my tongue, unknowing of how to cope with such a strong sense of discomfort, and fragility.

“You’re my wife and I suppose I can tell you anything.” I reached with shaking hands, intertwining ours together in worry and desperation when she nodded with concern for me to continue.

“Seeing you with James tonight, I can’t help but think that I’m at risk of losing you. He’s charismatic, charming, shares similar interests. I also know that he’s more around your age, and for the first time in my life I feel weak, and worried that I’m not the right partner for you.” A wave of relief washed over my chest, but I found myself scared for her response. What if I was right? Nor did I want her to spare my feelings. I knew I was acting out of my usual character, and the revelation that I could feel such insecure jealousy caused me a great discomfort.

Her angelic eyes surmised with concern, but spoke with sincerity as her fingers caressed mine devotionally.

 “Darling. I don’t care about James, if he thought he was getting anywhere with me well, he is sadly mistaken. I’d never leave you for him. I love you and only you, okay?” Her soft hands rubbed my back soothingly, her eyes speaking with valid sincerity and admiration yet that wasn’t enough for my concern to dissipate.

I was holding James to a standard that I once was. Though I may not have held the confidence and ego he did, I knew the way to a woman’s heart, those soft spots that would make them weak at the knees.

“Y/N, we both know with my past I have no right to complain. He knows my past, the whole world does. I know it must be hard for you to deal with me. I’m not exactly a perfect husband. I’d never cheat on you and I have changed, but I still feel undeserving of your love and the immense amount of patience you have with me. You can’t tell me you’ve never bared the concern of me being away from home.” Even with my complaints and assumptions she still held her composure, not one raising her voice at me. If anything lowering her tone to a monotone of ease and grace.

She spoke with the utmost clarity, and honesty, almost like she didn’t even have to think before speaking.

“No I haven’t love. I really haven’t. Who would I be as a wife to hold your past against you? Each day we grow, we learn, and you sitting here speaking with me in this way tells me all I need to know. Most men don’t come to their wives with their problems and I’m grateful you do. Love’s a funny thing and I’ve always lived by when you know, you know and I’ve never had that desirable feeling until I met you Robert. Excuse my language but fuck what anyone else thinks. I love you and only you, since the day you stopped me in the pouring rain outside that cafe to help me pick up my books that got ruined and you remember what you did?” A small, delicate smile formed on my face, reminiscing back to the first day I met my endearing wife.

She was running late to her class and had been running on little to no sleep. She vented about how her alarm didn’t go off, and the coffee shop accidentally gave her the incorrect order and was worried the professor would be upset.

I calmed her down to the best of my ability, even buying her a quick breakfast and offered to drive her there, refusing to allow this beautiful women to walk in the pouring down rain.

The next time I saw her was in my class room. Physics wasn’t her strong suit but she never gave up, never afraid to ask for help. I ended up buying her a new set of books, ensuring they were first edition with a notes section and helped her after class. Our bond became strong, growing more and more every day until I finally asked her on a formal dinner date after she graduated. The rest is history.

“I do, I do. My love. I want to apologize for tonight.” My hand reached for a wild strand of her silk hair, brushing the smooth texture behind her ear, getting lost once more in her bright, loving eyes as I’ve done many times.

She shook her head as if I didn’t need to apologize but I carried on.

“I acted foolishly and I should have just pulled you aside there and then to voice my concern. Now I bid the question, will you forgive me for my childish actions and thoughts?” She giggled, settling her warm hands on my cheeks and leaning in, connecting her smooth velvet lips with me in a desirable manner, deepening the kiss with the utmost love.

“You’re forgiven my darling. Just please talk to me from now on with any concerns. I’m here for the long run and if I recall we have an unfinished puzzle sitting at the table. What do you say I put on some tea and we see if we can finish this thing tonight snd then perhaps make sweet love after?” She hadn’t need to say anymore. I followed her in all her wonderous beauty, reaching up to the shelf she couldn’t reach, bringing the tea down for her as I went off to start a fire in the dining room.

We took our usual seats under the dim light of the tabletop lamp, carrying on in casual conversation as I made jokes she didn’t understand, and she expressed details of the newer books she’d been reading. Things felt normal, as if nothing happened tonight, and I found myself falling more and more in love with my beautiful wife with each passing second. She truly was a diamond in the dust, and I’m beyond grateful for her every day and that with opportunity I had the chance to put a diamond on her finger, forever indebted to her forgiving, patience, and strength.

[3lle-l-black]

The Lapse (Part 2)

George Weasley x Reader

Part 1

Warnings: English isn't my first language, use of you/your, use of she/her sometimes, swear words, beginning writer/not reviewed 🧡

George slowly opens his eyes.

Head spinning a little from lying down still drunk, me he looks around and mentally thanks when he realizes that he's in his own bed, even without know how he got there. George only remembers that you brought him home, the rest is all messed up. He turns around and sinks his face into the pillow, ‘Maybe if I don't move, my head will stop hating me’.

Luckily, George always dealt well with hangovers, he knew he would be fine soon. After a few minutes of complete silence, the bedroom door creaks and Fred slowly enters the room, looking for his brother with a glass of water in one hand.

"Are you awake yet?" — Fred's face lights up with a mischievous smile, and he gives the foot of the bed a little kick. George lets out a muffled grunt before turning over and sitting up. Fred's smile softens as he sits next to his brother on the bed, "Seriously, are you okay? When I arrived yesterday, you were already asleep."

"Yeah, just a little dizzy, but" — George reaches over and takes the glass from his brother's hand. "I think I had a dream" — He drinks the water in a hurry.

"A dream?"

"I dreamed that I told her that I like her," George speaks each word hesitantly, looking at the bottom of the empty glass. "Was it just a dream, right?" — He says placing the glass on the dresser next to the bed, his voice tinged with hope. Hope this isn't a memory messed up by alcohol. Hope that he hasn't ruined everything with you.

Don't get it wrong. He wants to tell you, he even has a plan to ask you out and tell you, a very elaborate plan, by the way. He just doesn't know when he'll do it. Fred gets lost in his own thoughts, eyes fixed on a corner of the room, trying to remember something that could help his brother.

"Well, when she said it was better for you to go home, you said you would only go with her" — Fred starts rambling about the last night. "You even preferred walking back instead of using magic, just so you could 'spend more time with her,' and I might have seen you hugging her as you left the bar. So I'm pretty sure it wasn't a dream."

George rub his face with his hands, letting out an indignant growl. Did he really tell you? What if you didn't want to talk to him anymore or felt uncomfortable around him from now on? As if Fred could hear his twin's thoughts, he pats George's back, trying to comfort him.

"It's not a bad thing, we both know you've wanted to say this for a while, and I know she likes you too," he pauses, even though you never said it out loud, he knows you do. "We are already adults, the excuse that you will wait to see if it isn't just teenage love doesn't work anymore."

"I know"

"Not even the excuse of making the store work first, or the excuse of waiting for the right moment, or"

"Okay, I understood" — George slaps his brother's chest with the back of his hand, not too hard, enough for Fred to stop talking.

"Aggressive" — Fred held his chest in false offense, "Get ready soon so we can open"

The rest of the day was lazy. The weather was cloudy, the cold outside contrasting with the warm atmosphere inside the WWW, making the place more cozy, the sky was threatening rain and the store was quieter than last week. Fred stopped in front of one of the huge windows, watching outside, while George went upstairs to clean up the mess left over from the weekend. Throughout the day, George remembered one thing or another that he had said to you, so he was trying to keep his mind busy to avoid serving a customer with a red face.

Somewhere between tidying up the last shelf and throwing away an empty box, George remembered you complaining about the difficulty of opening their front door. "Bloody hell" — He curses himself under his breath as he rubs his face, trying to shake off the shame of having hung onto you like a spoiled child. Or a clingy boyfriend.

George rests his forearms on the railing and lets his head fall between his shoulders, eyes fixed on the floor and his mind doing what it does best: coming up with a plan and thinking about you. As if the universe is in a good mood, the doorbell rings and a familiar voice, greeting Fred, can be heard.

Your voice, sending shivers down George's back.

He lifts his head, looking for you, his body reacting faster than he cares to admit. You enter WWW, immediately enveloped by the cozy warmth. You don't bother taking off your coat; there's a light rain outside and the stores are starting to close, so you wouldn't stay long.

"I just stopped by to say hi," you greet Fred and look around, missing the other redhead.

When your eyes meet and George realizes you've caught him looking at you, a shy smile plays on his lips. You smile back waving at him, trying to decide between to face the situation head-on or pretend nothing happened.

"I came to see if you were okay. Are you ok?" — There's a playful tone in your voice, you really care, but seeing George awkward like that is funny and a little cute. He clears his throat and composes himself before answering you.

"Yes, and you? It's late. Are you going home?" — You live in an apartment above your own store, similar to the twins' place. It isn't that far from the WWW but it was already dark, and even though he knew you knew how to protect yourself, George was always worried about you walking alone.

"Yeah, I planned to walk back, but the day was busy, it got dark in the blink of an eye, so..."

"Do you want company?" — A wave of confidence hits George, "They say I'm great company, if you want..."

Fred, behind you, shoots a quick OK sign and an exaggerated wink towards George. It takes you a few seconds to respond, the idea of talking about yesterday appearing in your mind, a mix of emotions hitting you.

"Okay, I'd love to," you say.

George goes downstairs, picks up his jacket that was leaning on a counter, and puts it on, while you head towards the exit. Before you can open the door, George arrives first and opens it for you. Taking care of you has always come naturally to him.

You made small talk most of the way. You talked about the weather, the new store in the alley, everything except what had been on your mind all day. That is, until a couple passed by you – a drunk girl and a boy helping her. They laugh as she hugs his arm, almost making them fall.

They walk away and a silence settles, broken only by the light rain and the sounds of shoes on the wet ground.

"About last night, I'm sorry for making you take care of me," George says as you walk side by side, using the storefronts as an umbrella from the fine rain. He swallows hard. It had always been easy to talk to you; he didn’t know why it was so difficult now.

"It's okay, I don't mind. You leaned on me like a koala, but I like taking care of you," you reply throwing him a small smile. You know George would always help you, why wouldn't you do the same for him? What you don't know is what this simple sentence did to George.

He feels amazing, like every time he is with you. His heart races, and a warmth spreads through his chest.

"And what I said..." George speaks slowly, analyzing your reaction. You click your tongue as if you don't care but start fiddling with your fingers nervously. It wasn't hard to fall in love with George; even Fred jokes about you acting like lovers since your 4th year at Hogwarts. But since he didn't make the first move, you conclude that you've fallen in love alone.

"There's no need to worry, Georgie. I don't believe the words of drunk people", you say, crossing the street and looking down, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. But George stops. Something clicks in his head with your sentence; he doesn't want you to think it was a lie. George would never lie about it.

Damn, he had to be exhausted and drunk to be able to tell you, but he meant it. George is really good at doing stupid things; luckily, he's also good at solving them. Maybe he can fix the mess he made yesterday.

"I'm not drunk now" he says loudly, making you stop. George tenses as you turn to him with a confused look on your face, the drizzle catching you now, "If I say it again now, would you believe it?"

"Are you serious? Like, do you really mean it?" — Your voice comes out louder than you expected, you weren't mad, just surprise. The possibility that you are hallucinating crosses your mind, but the sincerity in George's eyes tells you otherwise. George didn't want to hide this from you anymore, even if it made you hate him. If you want to hit him for ruining your friendship, Merlin knows he would let you.

You take a deep breath. "I would believe"

He lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. George looks at you with wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights, trying to process the situation.

"I wanna be" — Before he can finish, the drizzle turns into heavy rain, drowning out the noise around you and soaking your clothes. Without hesitation, George grabs your hand and runs towards your place, the rain and his gentle touch catching you off guard. Luckily, your store isn't far away and has a large facade where you can escape the rain.

As soon as we both huddle under the shelter, bursting into laughter, he lets go of my hand to fix some strands of hair that stuck to his face, and I have to hold myself back so I don't grab him again. "Don't worry, you're already pretty enough" — I say as George uses the window as a mirror. I run my fingers through my wet hair and wipe the cold water off my face as much as I can.

George let out a chuckle, "And people say I'm the flirt" — He says shaking his head, as if in disbelief. How can someone be so idiotic and handsome at the same time?

"Cause you're" — He turns to me with his eyes wide and his jaw dropped, if I didn't know George, I would be worried. Quickly, his expression changes to a proud one, he shrugs with a smug smile, enjoying the compliment. We stand in front of each other, the cold breeze passes through both of us and although the wet clothes are starting to bother me, I don't want to leave here. Not without knowing first.

Maybe I shouldn't have waited for him to take the initiative, maybe I should do it, I'll do it.

"So," — I keep my hands in my pockets, trying to ignore the cold, trying to look more confident. "You were saying..."

"I was saying that... we can be more, you know?" — He plays with his eyebrows making me laugh. George has a calm smile that contrasts with the hesitant step he takes closer to me. I wanna tell him that he can stop with the nonsense.

Go direct to the point.

But what's the fun in that?

"Hmm? What do you wanna be?" — I lean in, letting my hands draw circles on his chest as I try to calm my heart. His body feels warm against the slightly cold weather around us; 'I feel my body getting warm too'. George catches on to my teasing, the expression changing, a lustful gleam passing through his eyes.

His gaze shifts from my eyes to my lips and I have to take a deep breath, George gently places his hands on each side of my waist and pulls me closer. Our chests touch and I'm sure George can feel my heart racing, the tension between us palpable in the air, crackling like electricity.

"You know what I want, sweet"

"Yeah, but I want to hear it. I need to hear you say it"

"Fuck..." — George's breath catches against my skin. He leans in, your mouth hovers over my ear. Knowing the effect this would have on me, he whispers

"I wanna be yours"

The heart skipping a beat, George's warm breath sending shivers down your spine, and for a moment you lose your breath. You turn your faces at the same time. Eye contact returns, but the confident pose and provocative look that you had a few seconds ago is gone.

George could admire you for hours from this position, but now was not the time for that, without hesitation, he closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a passionate kiss, making a sigh escape you. Your hand instinctively reached out, fingers curling around a fold of his coat.

George holds your hand tightly, as if you could disappear, holding on to the one he always wanted and wouldn't let go so soon now that he finally has.

And it feels so right.

Like you always should have been here.

Your tongues explore each other and George's hand travels over your body, hugging your waist. The feeling of his lips on yours is soft, his touch is soft, in contrast to the hunger for the kiss. The intensity of the kiss slowly fades, and with one last peck, you reluctantly part, but George doesn't move away from you.

He rests his forehead on yours, the breaths mingling with the cold wind, you stayed like that for a while, enjoying the moment, in no rush to separate. George lets out a low muffled laugh as you wrapped your arms around his waist inside the suit, you're still feeling the heat of the moment, but now the breeze is starting to get to you. George's face lights up with the same pretty smile you've always loved.

He admires you with red cheeks and ear tips. 'I must not look different', you think, looking at him with a downcast gaze. George hugs you and you snuggle into his chest. "Are you cold?" — He asks, adjusting the sides of his jacket around you as much as he can.

"Yes" — You pause, gathering the courage to ask, "It's really cold out here, do you want to come in?"

"Come in? Like... just until the rain stops or spending the night?” — George jokes, unable to stop looking at you, with a twinkle in his eyes. 'You shift your weight from one foot to the other muttering a low drawl 'yeah'.

"I don't know, I just want to spend more time with you, If you don't wanna"

Before you can finish, George interrupts you, "If I ever say no to you, I want you to take your wand and curse me. I'm talking about an Avadra" — You laugh loudly pushing him lightly.

···•···

Bônus: "Just so you know, if you hadn't slept, you would have heard me say I wanted to be more than friends sooner, idiot." — You say with a wide smile on your face looking for the key in your coat pocket.

"I was exhausted. You're lucky I turned off after we were already inside the house." — George says, hugging you from behind and purposely making it difficult for you to open the door.

···•···

This should have been post sooner but oh well, I posted, that's what matters It's my first time writing a kiss and I don't think it's amazing but it was fun to do so... i hope you like 🧡

[jurijyuu]

In the Ashes of the Garden

AdamxLucifer (Hazbin Hotel)

3.7K Words

When death came for him a final time, a new god reached out her black-fogged hands with a promise.

"Kill for me." She whispered.

"Only if I can drag that punk Lucifer with me too!"

Tags: Hazbin Hotel x Dead By Daylight Crossover, Stabbing, Slashing, Typical DBD stuff, angst, hurt

This is part of the Hooked on Hazbin 2024 event @fraugwinska and @macabr3-barbi3 hooked us into. Please check out these other creators below! Happy Halloween!!

Link to Hooked on Hazbin 2024 Masterlist

It always felt surreal how bright the sun shone in this place, how golden it colored the corn fields and painted everything in a golden afternoon. But the sun’s warmth never reached you. The Entity, the being that trapped you here, was far above understanding how humans interacted with weather. It simply plucked images from memories and reconstructed them into its game. If it brought neither pain nor fear, it didn’t spend any energy to perfect an object’s detail.

So the sun shone brightly but you couldn’t feel its warmth. The yellowed corn stalks swayed lightly though there wasn’t a breeze to be felt. And your footsteps crunched against gritty dirt, each sound a beacon that could lead the Killer to your location.

“Psst.” 

Your eyes followed the soft hiss, finding a white face haloed by golden hair calling you from one of the gym walls. You quickly ran over, deciding quick steps were worth the extra noise if you could get to your trial mate faster.

Lucifer, a short man with a lithe build and covered in way too much white for all the shit you were both going through, had started on a generator. Pale hands reached into the belly of the machinery, pulling and twisting wires with the knowledge the Entity granted its Survivors. Coming to the other side, you did the same, hoping to fix the generator before this trial’s Killer found you both.

“Did you figure out who it is?”

“I heard rock music. Could be one of the Legion. Maybe the Dragon.” Though you’d traveled a good distance from where you’d spawned on the trial ground, you hadn’t seen your opponent for this match. In the distance, you heard a faint sound of music. It narrowed it down. Only a few Killers were cocky enough to play music as they went hunting. 

“If it’s Adam, run. I’ll distract him like usual.” The sun shone in your eyes when you tried to glance around the generator to your friend. His suggestion was a given. Around the same time he was kidnapped into the Entity’s game, a new Killer popped up too. Not long after, it became apparent that the two were related. Lucifer referred to the new Killer by his name and the Killer had a particular bone to pick with the ex-angel.

Your experience with the new killer was limited though enough to give you a firm impression. Adam, or the Dragon as the other survivors preferred to call him, was a cocky asshole. He would taunt and act nonchalant before brutally hitting people with his guitar-axe. He gave off a carefree attitude most of the time. He did have a temper though, often getting vindictive for the littlest things. If you laughed at him because someone stunned him with a pallet or if you managed to lose him during a chase, he just went berserk. 

It was worse when Lucifer was in a trial. All that nonchalant air that hung about him disappeared. It turned into a fiery rage. It didn’t help that Lucifer, all too familiar with the man, seemed to just love throwing jabs at him. It always ended up with Adam chasing Lucifer around the whole map without a care for any of the other survivors. 

You felt bad for that. You’d been the object of a chase plenty of times to know that it wasn’t easy to get away from the Killers who got a boost of everything from the Entity. Whether it was speed, strength or bloodlust, the spidery being had amplified it within the bodies it chose to torture you all. 

At the end of the day, it was still the best strategy. Lucifer distracts and everyone gets out (or sometimes just the other three) gets out. You nodded to Lucifer, letting the man know your acknowledgement.

Just as the generator roared to life, a scream rang throughout the rotten fields. It sounded like Meg. Not long after, a male voice screamed and you saw Detective Tapp fall down quite a distance from you two.

“What the fuck are they doing?” To get downed one after the other…was it Legion after all or were the two just not paying attention?

You and Lucifer glanced at each other and nodded before heading in opposite directions. You needed to save the other two if you wanted to get out of here alive. There were still four more generators to do. Sneaking your way across the field to where Meg dangled from a hook, you glanced left and right. The Killer wasn’t in sight but you didn’t hear the distinct thrill of someone getting a hook through their shoulder so you guessed Tapp was still okay. 

With another quick check at your surroundings, you ran for Meg. The poor girl was quietly sobbing, blood gushing from her wound as you took her off the hook.

“It’s the Dragon.”

“Okay. Lucifer went in his direction. He should be chasing him now.” Understanding dawned on Meg’s face not long after and she immediately prostrated her shoulder and side for you to help treat. With the Killer distracted by his strange obsession with Lucifer, you had time to patch her up before you split up again to cover more ground.

At least, that was what you thought.

“Hey girlie.” A snide voice was all you heard before a fiery pain erupted from your shoulder, the push of a heavy blade tumbling you forward with only your shock and many experiences to catch you. Without looking back, you bolted, almost stumbling into Meg who was also shocked by the sudden appearance of the Killer.

You tried to block a hit for Meg, hoping to give her more time to escape as she’d already been hooked once. But the Dragon wasn’t going to ignore your sacrifice, swinging wide until his blade sliced the back of your thigh, sending you tumbling to the ground. It would have been fine had he actually focused his attention on you, had he actually picked you up to try and hook you. But the man ignored you, focusing on chasing Meg as he left you to bleed out on the ground.

That…wasn’t his usual modus operandi. The man was…kinda lazy. Once he downed a survivor, he’d hook them and scare away everyone else. He guaranteed one kill a match unless he was in a mood. The only times he actually deviated from that would be when Lucifer was in a trial, and only then because he tunneled the pale man with such avid hatred and fury, a look too worthy of calling Lucifer his obsession.

This trial went to shit so quickly after that. No amount of distraction or taunting from Lucifer could stop the killer from chasing everyone else. He tunneled and wrecked generators, played mind games like you’d never seen. It was like a completely different man altogether had taken over him, turning an annoying yappy murderer into a cunning ruthless monster. All the while, a guitar riff played in the background, flames sprouting from his mouth as his bloodlust reached new heights.

Rounding the corner of the barn with your heartbeat in your throat and feet desperate to escape the killer on your heels, you toppled to the ground, another slash joining the many others slicing your body open. Despair trickled through your body like your blood seeping into the dirt and dried hay. Only two generators were done but Meg and Tapp were already sacrificed and once a hook pierced your shoulder, you would be gone too.

“Take that ya little rat.” A voice gruff from running but high off of victory came from above you, from a mask that glowed with flame yellow eyes and a grin as sharp as his blade. With two huge horns coming from his head, a bloodied and torn robe, he stood against the light of the false sun. Like the devil himself come to drag you to Hell.

Sharp black claws grabbed fistfuls of you sides, digging into your injuries, as he hefted you onto his shoulder. You just hoped Lucifer could find the hatch and escape this round.

“So fucking hard to catch, always dodging and hiding like a little mouse. But I got your ass, babe. Hah!” A sharp slap of a hard palm whipped your ass and you struggled to break free. Just as he went back around the corner you came from, a bright light shone from behind you and you felt yourself drop before someone’s hand went to drag you forward from the blinded killer. 

“Aargghh! You fucking asshole! Come here you little bastard!” 

With adrenaline in your veins, you ran but the wounds took their toll and you eventually lagged behind and got caught again, eating a face full of dirt as you skid to the ground, Adam’s axe still swinging as he tried to get a hit on Lucifer too. But the shorter man was nimble, easily scrambling just a hair away but close, so close. Close enough that in the midst of his bloodlust, the killer didn’t even bother with you.

He figured with how battered you were, you’d bleed to death while he chased after Lucifer. Without the other pesky chumps in the trial, the fallen angel wouldn’t be able to escape him this time. 

You watched the two disappear, crawling into a corner to recuperate. There wasn’t much left in you and you had to decide, did you let yourself die so Lucifer could get the hatch or did you try to win? In all honesty, with how the killer was acting during this trial, the odds were against you but…in the distance, Lucifer was laughing, taunting the killer while dodging and outrunning him like he’d been stuck in this God-forsaken world for centuries rather than…maybe a few weeks. If you died, he could get to the hatch and escape.

You were about to let yourself bleed out when a scream rang through the empty fields. The killer got Lucifer.

It was enough to shock you into action, the surprise of it giving you just enough strength to push to peer over the corn and hay bales in the direction the scream came from. That couldn’t be right. Adam had never caught Lucifer before. But it was bound to happen eventually, wasn’t it? The pale man always too the heat from the Dragon, becoming the most essential part of surviving against this particular killer.

Now, he was at the man’s mercy. And Adam had it out for him. You were afraid. Cold dread and a wash of concern speared through your chest. Each killer was cruel but none of them seemed to hold a grudge against any particular survivor. They favored some over others, enjoying hunting those particular people. But Adam, the Dragon, had only hatred and rage when it came to Lucifer. And you were scared of what that meant. What kind of sick mori would he subject the pale man to.

All your worry for him solidified into action, pumping worry and adrenaline through your veins until you found the strength to get up again, you would seemingly numb against the need to make sure that Lucifer got out of this match. The man had yet to be broken, truly traumatized by anything in this sick realm of an uncaring god’s creation. He was strong against his deaths, laughed against pain and injury. He encouraged you when it was your job to get him up to speed with things he had yet to learn. You couldn’t…couldn’t stand the thought of seeing him like some of the others.

When a match went worse than they’d ever thought possible, when the killer had truly turned into a monster. When they’d been determined to inflict suffering to a degree that even the Entity didn’t demand of them. When it took many cycles around the campfire before the cracks in their souls mended and they could stand to face another killer. When the Entity snuffed them out, the pain they’d suffered left them too broken to be her toys.

You ran as best you could, just in time to see a punch hit Lucifer square in the guts.

“Not so hot now, are ya you punk.” A heavy studded leather boot kicked the shorter man, causing him to stumble and splay onto a dropped pallet. “Think you were hot shit cuz you got away all those times? Well news flash you clown-faced freak, you can’t do anything without those losers to help ya.” The Dragon landed another heavy blow onto Lucifer’s face.

“What did you say? Oh right. You’re in my house now, bitch!” Fist and fist rained meaty blows against the smaller body, the white outfit Lucifer wore turning red with each piece of skin broken. Meanwhile the man, himself, only coughed, laying limp against the onslaught in a show of demureness that you’d never seen from him. The fight was one-sided, abuse raining on a defenseless party. 

“It wasn’t enough that you stole my wives! You had to get me cast out of Eden too! Then you have the motherfucking gall to kill me!? Kill me!!? I’m the original man! All those humans that you love so much come from me! But you—“ Adam lifted the smaller man up, the blood seeping from his split lip trickling down his face. The fucker had the nerve to smile helplessly at him, the same one he had when he spoke of his dreams and the rejection of the grand council of archangels. Back when they were friends. 

So many fucking trials since he died and was first brought here and he finally caught this fucker. He could finally let him taste the end. Cut into him with his axe, hear him scream with the agony and misery he deserved. But the man just looked at him, a calm smile on his face like he was indulging his spoiled child. With a yell, he slammed the man into the pallet, the makeshift structure creaking at the force.

“You should’ve been my guide, should’ve been my friend! Instead, you screwed me over!” Lucifer just watched, letting the blows come without a fuss. Why!? Why wasn’t he fighting back? You expected a snappy quip. The devil had a tongue to match but he just lay there. You moved from your hiding spot, ready to push the killer off of him when a worn voice, strained and bloody, cut through the pause in Adam’s fists.

Lucifer coughed. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as it would have had Adam had his Heavenly blessings but his powers weren’t fully there either, his body healing so slowly from the blows. Blood pooled in his throat as he swallowed. Above him, he spied what the mask Adam wore hid behind slanted yellow eyes and snarling teeth. It was endearing, something tickling his heart to hear. Adam’s held back cries still sounded the same, thousands of years later. He smiled, a sad little thing at the first man. “I would’ve stolen you too. I wish I did.”

“What the fuck did you just say!?”

“It wasn’t just Lilith or Eve.” It strained his throat to talk but each breath without getting punched gave him strength to pour out a confession he couldn’t have said before, not as the King of Hell. But here, he was just a soul trapped by the Entity, and the man above him was his killer. “I wanted you too.”

“Fuck you! You—you ruined everything! Damned all of humanity and—and…” The nerve of this asshole! Spouting shit when—when…“you left me.” The weight of ten thousand years of anger and hate condensed into a pathetic whisper as familiar red eyes looked at him in that dopish way from so very long ago. “You took Lilith with you and when Eve died, she went down too…but you left me. All alone. Just me.” Was that really it? Not the cheating? Not the damnation of humanity? In the face of the first friend he’d ever made, all his blazing hate and anger turned to ashes in his chest, leaving only the feeling of that first dawn in Heaven. The first dawn without any of his loved ones with him.

“I never wanted to.” A deep whisper, sincere and gentle as sin came from the man he was trying to choke, regretful pity gazing up at him from a cracked face that was already mending itself.

“Shut up! Liar!” He snarled, slamming the small body again. Lucifer was always a liar. A snake in the grass. He said he’d always be there. He said he was his guardian angel. He said he loved him but let him face the disappointment of God and an afterlife in regret!

“Adam—“

“I said, shut up!” That mouth that only whispered lies and temptation, he shut it with his mouth, letting his teeth cut into soft yielding flesh. And he cried. Because he could feel the angel kiss him back. 

You watched the exchange, shocked still only a few yards away. What the fuck did you just see? Your eyes trailed over them, trying to find even a hint of distress or pain. Something that told you what to do. But even as the killer pushed his weight onto Lucifer, the two remained locked in a kiss. Blackened hands and gloved claws started to roam slowly, gently, desperately and shame filled you. You shouldn’t be seeing this. 

But what if Lucifer needed help? But he didn’t look like he needed it. Conflicted, you watched, stepping back into the shadows with caution. Not too far from you, you spied a generator. Should…should you continue the trial? 

A ravenous tongue plundered his mouth but he had an equally monstrous one of his own to battle with. Above him, the bigger man groaned, pressing deeper into him.  Black fingertips slowly curled their way under the mask and Adam pulled away.

“Adam, let me see your face.” Lucifer looked up at him with wide serious eyes and a stubborn rip within him mashed defiantly at the look. He was in control here. He dragged the angel into this realm. He had all the power to finally fuck this asshole up.

“You’re not in any position to be making requests here, mother—“ 

“Please.” But Lucifer looked up at him with his wide red eyes, the dots on his face drawing close as he frowned in a small plea. Here was the King of Hell, softly asking to look upon him. He’d never imagined he’d see that face ever again, only seeing the mockery on the harlequin features when his enemy’s face came to mind. He’d spent many years pushing away the memories of the Garden after all. He’d forgotten how soft Lucifer could look, the former favorite of Heaven, and it stilled the resistance in him. 

“Please, Adam.” He called again. The man above him frowned, torn and unsure. He brought his hands up, tentatively placing them at the seam of his mask, waiting for resistance, taking the lack of it as permission. Lucifer breathed a sigh of relief when under the mask was the same man he saw at the battle of the hotel, piercings and mussed up hair. Only his horns were permanent now, standing proudly atop his head. He wondered how the gods knew he had a thing for them. Why else would his beloveds all have them?

“Like what you see, old man?” A rebellious curve on his mouth couldn’t decide if it wanted to be a sneer or a smirk. 

“I’ve always thought you were handsome.” He wrapped his tail around the taller man, not letting him pull away. A teasingly soft smile lifted his cheeks when he felt the man settle where he’d looked ready to dive into a fit again for a moment.

“Oh fuck off.” Adam huffed, the fight going out of him as Lucifer remained soft and yielding beneath him. What the fuck man?! He just felt tired all of a sudden, put out by the lack of fight from the guy he’d dreamt about pummeling for millennia. He sighed and shifted their positions, pulling the smaller man off the palette so he could lay down on it himself. And pulled Lucifer back onto his lap, much to the confusion and delight of the fallen angel.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck off?” Lucifer grinned, not quite sure what mood the other man was in but happy nonetheless to have this moment with him. The aches on his body faded more and more as his attention was solely on the man between his legs. He wouldn’t admit how many times he’d thought of this in the thousands of years since the garden.

“…come here.” The mischievous grin on the devil’s face was closer to the same taunting asshole expression he was used to. It was also closer to a time when the Angel had indulged him in breaking some small rules where God wasn’t watching. Days spent learning about the creations, pulling pranks and discovering new wonders.

It was like he could taste those days again when he pulled the blonde down for another kiss, this one softer but just as demanding as before. Through the dirt and blood, he could taste the sweetness, the temptation, the sin and it burned.

“Hnngh.” He bit Lucifer’s lip, reopening the wound, and the smaller man ground, hips pitching forward.

“So you like pain?”

“You learn a few things over the years.” With a smirk, his voice came out huskier than intended, the surreal yet pleasant sting of Adam’s bite sending sparks to his brain. Beneath him, Lucifer could feel an answering hardness, tenting the robes the man wore as a light dusting of pink colored Adam’s cheeks. It was cute. “Want me to show you?”

“Let’s get one thing straight here, I’m fucking you, you got it?” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not a very straight thing to do but sure, you can take me for a ride.”

[lunarubra]

So, here we are. This chapter is shorter than the others, but I wanted to wrap up the first part of the story in a sweet way, and this is what came out. It's pure fluff—I hope you like it! :) More will happen in the next parts, I just need to get back into writing and feel good about it. Thank you for being patient with me, and I’m sorry for the long wait. Comments make me very happy..

Pairing: Cillian x OC (Jiyan Fabris)

Summary: The end of the first part of the story, where they both finally found their balance.

Warning: English not my First Language, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort.

Words: 2266

Previous | Masterlist

Chapter 9 - Glow of the Water

“You know, I always expect the worst from this island, but I’m glad it surprises me sometimes,” Jiyan said with a playful smile.

Cillian, who was driving, shot her a mildly offended look. They had just left Galway, where the night before he’d celebrated the 35th anniversary of the local theatre with fellow actors and screenwriters. It was also where she finally met his famous friend Enda—the one he couldn’t stop talking about.

The event had been incredible—watching all the interconnected plays was engaging, and Jiyan finally got to see Cillian perform on stage, which was one of the most special things he shared with her. Afterward, the actors gathered at a local pub for a lively, traditional Irish night. It was the most fun Jiyan had had in months, especially watching Cillian and Enda get tipsy a bit too quickly, something she found endlessly amusing. Teasing her drunk boyfriend might have bordered on cruelty, but she had enjoyed it far too much to care.

The following morning, after a couple of Bloody Marys for Cillian—and tea for Jiyan, who still couldn’t understand why anyone would want to drink tomatoes (tomatoes were for cooking or salads, not for juice)—and a hearty breakfast, they set off for the coast. Jiyan hadn’t seen much of Ireland outside Dublin, except for a visit to Cork with Cillian, but she’d never explored the western coast or the countryside, which Cillian found hard to believe. She’d been in Ireland for nearly five months, as he reminded her while planning the trip, and still hadn’t visited some of its most beautiful spots. To him, that needed immediate fixing.

“What do you mean?” Cillian asked, frowning slightly.

“Well, you have to admit, as lovely as it is, it’s always raining. And when it’s not, the sun plays hide-and-seek with the clouds. I almost cried last week when the weatherman said we were in for a ‘nice week.’ You know why? Because that ‘nice week’ meant sixteen hours of sunshine. Sixteen hours. For the whole week! That has to violate the Geneva Convention or something.”

“The ‘weatherman’?” Cillian asked, amused.

“In Italy, we’d call him uccello del malaugurio—someone who only brings bad news and somehow makes it happen.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not actually controlling the weather, love.”

“He’s bringing bad luck, I swear! I know you Irish are used to this, but I’m not. The other day, a woman probably thought I was lost. I kept weaving between buildings, crossing the street a thousand times, trying to chase the sun!”

Cillian stifled a groan, well aware of how frustrating it was to walk with her on sunny days. He almost preferred when it rained, because Jiyan would prepare like a marine about to head into battle—wrapped in two scarves, a beanie covering most of her face—and would march through the streets, efficient and fast. But on sunny days? It was like following an overexcited child with no sense of direction. She’d zigzag across the street, dodging every shadow cast by buildings, street lamps, anything that blocked the sun. She’d jaywalk without hesitation just to stay in the light, and sometimes she even abandoned the sidewalk to walk in the middle of the road. Needless to say, the neighbours had become extra watchful whenever Jiyan was out and about.

The playful banter faded naturally, giving way to the soft sound of Nina Simone’s voice, setting a relaxed, comfortable mood in the car. They were driving along a coastal road where the cliffs met the ocean, the peaceful day mirroring the calm inside. Unlike the stormy days before, the sea was serene, and the sun hung lazily on the horizon. Even with the windows closed, Jiyan could hear the distant calls of seagulls, blending perfectly with Nina Simone’s soothing voice from the speakers.

Cillian’s hand had unconsciously found its way to her leg, drawing lazy circles with his thumb, while Jiyan absentmindedly caressed his forearm. She felt more relaxed than she had in a long time, simply enjoying the scenery and the warm sunlight spilling through the window.

“So why do you say it surprises you?” he asked.

“Well, even though this isn’t exactly my kind of weather, it’s really beautiful—and I’m kind of surprised by that,” she joked, then turned toward him and took his hand. She smiled softly and paused for a moment. “Thank you for today.”

Cillian glanced at her, returning her smile as if trying to capture the moment forever—Jiyan with her wild hair escaping the messy bun, gazing out toward the ocean, her eyes reflecting the different shades of the water.

“We’re almost there,” he said, holding her hand and kissing it.

The trail seemed to fly by as they walked along the cliffs, the beauty of the landscape unlike anything Jiyan had ever experienced. She thought, if there was a place where the colour green had been invented, it had to be here.

They spent most of the hike chatting—getting into lively talks about European and American cinema and even a passionate debate over The Beatles over the Rolling Stones. But once they reached the Cliffs of Moher, the conversation faded, and Jiyan just stood there, quiet, taking in the stunning view.

She leaned back against Cillian’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Her hands rested on his, holding him as she soaked in the moment, lost in the scenery and the peacefulness surrounding them.

She snuggled deeper into Cillian’s embrace, letting out a contented sigh.

"I love this," she said softly, her voice barely louder than the wind. "It’s beautiful. I don’t think I’ve felt this at peace in... I can’t even remember when."

Cillian hummed in agreement, pulling her even closer. Her hair, tousled by the breeze, brushed against his chin as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head.

They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other and the wild beauty surrounding them. The cliffs stretched out endlessly, meeting the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean below. The sea, dark and restless, crashed against the rocks, but the horizon was calm, the late afternoon sun casting a golden light over everything.

"I’m glad you finally got to see this," Cillian murmured, his voice low. "I’ve been wanting to bring you here since we were in Cork."

Jiyan smiled, her gaze still fixed on the ocean. "I get it now. It’s... overwhelming in the best way. It feels like time just stops here."

Cillian chuckled softly, resting his chin on her shoulder. "That’s Ireland for you. It has a way of pulling you in, even when you least expect it."

She tilted her head slightly, looking up at him, her eyes warm and bright. "Thank you for bringing me here," she said, her voice softer and more intimate this time.

"Anytime," he whispered, giving her a gentle squeeze. "It’s moments like this that make all the rain and cloudy days worth it."

They stood together in comfortable silence, both lost in the tranquillity of the moment. Finally, Jiyan broke the stillness, her tone light but playful as she glanced up at him.

“If I had told Samyah last year that I’d find peace—and a whole new life—in Ireland, she probably would’ve staged an intervention,” Jiyan chuckled.

Cillian stiffened slightly, unsure of what to say. He hesitated for a moment before speaking. "You’ve never really talked again about... about what happened, about her. I didn’t want to pry."

Jiyan tightened her grip on his arms around her waist, as if steadying herself. She let out a soft breath. "I never really talked about what happened—before that day when I had the panic attack. It was too painful, and I just hoped I could forget it, lock it away. There are still things that happened after, but I'm not ready to talk about them yet. I don’t even know how to explain it. Then I met you, and I thought I could move on, be happy, and leave everything in the past. But it didn’t work like that. After we got back from Cork, after your sister’s birthday, the panic attacks started again."

"You didn’t tell me..." he said softly, his concern evident.

She turned in his arms to face him. "I know. I’m sorry. I just hoped that if I ignored it long enough, it would disappear."

Cillian cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing her cheek. "I don’t think it works that way, love."

"No, it doesn’t," she replied with a half-hearted smile, sadness lingering in her eyes. "That’s why I started seeing a therapist. And it’s helping… it’s helping a lot."

"You started therapy? When?" he asked, slightly surprised.

"Not long ago, I swear. I’m only on my third session," she said quickly. "I know I should’ve told you sooner, but I wanted to keep it to myself until I felt more comfortable. Honestly, I haven’t been the best patient... I’m not great at asking for help, and it took me a while to figure it out," she admitted. Her voice softened then, her eyes searching his. "Are you... is it okay?"

Cillian’s gaze fixed on her, and he gently placed his hands on her arms. "Am I...? Jiyan, of course. This is good. This is really good." He paused, trying to find the right words. "You’re one of the strongest people I know, but I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been dealing with everything that happened. I want to help, but sometimes... I'm really not sure how."

"Therapy is good—it’s so important," he continued, hesitating for a moment as he glanced around, almost like the scenery might give him the words he needed. "There were days when I could tell something was off. You seemed distant, and I thought giving you space was the right thing to do... that maybe you didn’t want to be pushed. I’m sorry if I wasn’t there when you needed me." he concluded lowering his gaze.

Jiyan shook her head gently, her eyes softening. "Cillian, you’ve already helped more than you know. You didn’t need to fix everything. You just had to be here, and you were. That’s all I needed."

He exhaled slowly, relieved by her words but still carrying a hint of hesitation. "I just... I hate that you went through this alone. I should’ve said something or done more."

She smiled, placing her hand over chest, just above his heart. "I’m working through a lot of things, but one thing I’m sure about... You came into my life exactly when I needed you. I wasn’t ready before, and I don’t think I would’ve let anyone in." Her voice softened as she continued, "But you made it safe for me. I know I shut down sometimes, but you’ve always been patient. You gave me space when I needed it and support when I couldn’t ask for it."

Cillian lowered his head, resting his forehead against hers. "I’m glad, but... I’m here, Jiyan. It’s not just you—I’m here," he emphasised again. "You don’t have to carry it all alone."

"I know," she whispered. "It’s not easy for me, but I’m learning that it’s okay to lean on people again."

They stood there for a moment, forehead to forehead, the gentle sound of the ocean filling the quiet between them. The weight of her words seemed to settle around them, but instead of feeling heavy, it brought a sense of lightness, as if a burden had finally been lifted.

Cillian stepped back slightly, gazing at the person who had entered his life like a hurricane and somehow filled every gap, every empty space inside him. He thought about all the times his friends or brother, after yet another failed relationship, had told him he’d just know when he met the right person. They said it would feel natural, intense, and effortless—he wouldn’t even have to think about it. And they were right. Before he realised it, he was completely connected to her.

“Tá mé i ngrá leat,” he murmured, feeling Jiyan stiffen slightly.

"You..." she started.

"You don’t have to say anything," he said gently. "I just... Tá mé i ngrá leat, Jiyan," he repeated, cupping her face.

“Ez jî ji te hez dikim,” she whispered back.

"What?" he asked, baffled.

"What, I know what you told me in Irish, and you don’t understand Kurdish?" she teased, a playful smile spreading across her face.

Cillian laughed softly, his expression warming. "I think you’ve got the advantage when it comes to languages, Aji."

"I love you too," she said again, this time more softly, and then kissed him slowly. She poured all her emotions into the kiss—all the love, gratitude, and vulnerability she had held inside. Cillian responded in kind, holding her even closer as the moment deepened.

When the kiss finally ended, they stayed like that, forehead to forehead, breathing heavily, as if they’d both come up for air after diving deep into something profound.

"Okay, this was amazing—I love you, and the place is beautiful," Jiyan said with a teasing tone, "but it’s freezing, way too cold for tiny Mediterranean me. Can we go back?"

Cillian laughed softly, kissing her forehead “Yeah we can go back, come on”.

As they began to walk back along the cliffs, the salty breeze tousled their hair and the distant sound of waves crashing against the rocks filled the air. Jiyan leaned into Cillian’s side, feeling warmth radiate from him despite the chill of the weather. They exchanged smiles, sealing their pact in that beautiful moment, the ocean and the cliffs standing as their witnesses.

Previous | Masterlist

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this chapter. Your feedback, in any form helps me to continue write this story; and comments makes me happy. See you at the next one :)

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 1

Find the series masterlist

Eventual John Price x f!reader. Buckle up people, this is a slow burn. 

A few things to know: reader is an independent intelligence agent, morally gray, bisexual, and has some backstory. You’ll learn what you need to know. Primary codename is Ace, but has a couple others. 

This first chapter is setting the scene and giving you all a start on learning about this mess. We do mess a bit with timelines - this starts before MW 2019. 

Warnings: Swearing, flirting, mischief. 

Word count: 2.2k

You hummed to yourself as you walked to the meet point. By now, this was all standard for you - meet up with some underling, pass along the information, wait for payment, and be on your way. 

It was a system that worked well for both parties and had for years. Since you'd discovered you could make a living at this. 

But only if you were careful. 

Which is why you arrived at the meet point a full twenty minutes early. You picked a table out on the patio and ordered a coffee while you waited. It was a lovely day, after all. 

And when someone dropped into the seat across from you fifteen minutes later, you smiled to yourself. 

And then you looked at the man. 

Oh, this one was good. Big and broad, that much you could tell even with the both of you sitting down. Brown hair kept neat, mutton chops. Interesting choice. And the most intense blue eyes you'd seen in a long time. 

"Nice weather we're having." The first half of the code was long habit to you, and never changed. That way you always knew you had the correct underling. 

"Yes but I always bring an umbrella," the man answered with the other half of the code. English accent. Lovely. 

"Anything to drink for you?" You offered with an easy smile, crossing your legs at the knee. 

"No. You have something for me." His voice was rough and low, gaze fixed on you. 

"I suppose I do." You reached into your pocket and pulled out a flash drive, holding it between two fingers. "Password is enterprise, all lower case. This is all up to date. Oh, and one more thing." You leaned in, dropping your voice. "They're planning to move within 24 hours. I can get a more precise time, but it'll cost." 

His eyes narrowed, just a little. "Wait here." He took the USB, tucking it into a pocket before he stood. He towered over you, and you blinked slowly up at him. Oh yes. Oh you liked this one. 

He stepped away, pulling out a cell phone. You picked up your coffee, taking a sip and watching him with half-lidded eyes. He had turned away so you couldn't read his lips. Smart. Clearly someone had updated him as to your capabilities. Your bet was on Laswell - she liked to ruin your fun. 

If Laswell was indeed his contact, that was. And if she was… well, that made him a little higher up the food chain than you initially guessed. Fascinating. 

Normally you dealt with underlings, normal soldiers. People who could act as go-tos but ultimately just followed orders. 

This one, though…

He rejoined you at the table, gaze hard. "You have authorization to proceed. But. There will be rules." 

"I'm listening," you agreed, watching him over the rim of your coffee cup. 

"You keep a comm on you. You alert me as soon as you have the information. You do not take any risks or alert them to our plans. I will have a sniper on overwatch."

“You won’t need them.” You tipped your chin, holding his gaze. “I suppose you’ll be able to hear me but not the other way around, then?” 

“You won’t need to hear from me if you do your job right.” 

You chuckled. “I suppose so. What shall I call you, then?” 

“You don’t need my name.”

“Your name? No. I don’t. But I would like to know what I can call you.” You winked at him. “For my diary, of course.” 

He was silent for a few long moments, blue eyes searching yours. Not that you knew what he was actually looking for. But whatever he saw must have satisfied him. “Captain.” 

“Captain,” you purred. “I assume she informed you of my preferred call sign.” That was a calculated gamble, dropping that hint.

Apart from the tiniest twitch of his lips, he didn’t react. “Ace.”

“Right.” You smiled, all teeth, and finished your coffee. “Well then! Are you coming back to mine, handsome?” You fluttered your eyelashes at him playfully. 

His jaw clenched. “We’ll RV at a secondary location,” he ground out. Either he disliked you or he disliked flirting. Or possibly both. 

“Alright. When?” 

“Half an hour.”

You did a quick bit of mental math. You had most everything you needed on you, but clearly he did not. He hadn’t come equipped to send someone else in on a quasi-op, after all. “Alright. Where?” 

“Tailors shop, called Black Label. Half a click north of here.”

“I’ll find it.” You tucked a cash tip under your empty coffee cup and stood. “I’ll see you in thirty minutes, Captain.” 

It took you ten minutes to be sure he wasn’t following you, although you wouldn’t be surprised if he had someone up high tracking you. He seemed the paranoid type. But you risked it to go back to your hotel room. If all went well, you’d be leaving town within hours. 

It took minutes to ensure your things were packed up, and you hummed to yourself as you double-checked the knife strapped to your thigh under your clothes, the false pocket of your pants giving you access. Perfect. You did like it when all your things were in working order. 

And then you sauntered back out the door, leaving your baggage behind for the moment. It didn’t take you long to find Black Label. 

But this time, you weren’t there first.

Captain walked up to you before you even reached the door, his hand securing just above your elbow, firm but not painful. He guided you around the side of the building and down an alleyway. 

“You leave this on,” he said firmly, releasing you only to grab a tiny microphone out of one of his pockets. “You turn it off, we assume you’ve betrayed us.”

“Sniper, overwatch, I remember,” you agreed glibly. “Allow me.” You held out one hand, imperious, and he handed over the microphone. Without an ounce of shame, you secured it under your shirt where it was completely hidden from sight. “Will this audio suffice?” 

He tipped his head just a little to the side. Undoubtedly listening to the report of whoever was on the other end of his comms. Then he nodded once, short and sharp. 

“Good. I need to get going or I’ll be late.”

He stiffened. “Late?” 

“Didn’t I mention? I have a dinner appointment.” Your lips curved in amusement as you watched him struggle not to react. Much. His flush betrayed his anger, though. 

“I’ll be listening very closely,” he finally growled. 

“I hope you do.” You winked at him again and turned, walking out of the alleyway. Sometimes men were just so fun to tease. 

You did, in fact, have a dinner date with Sergio. You’d arranged it well ahead of time, knowing that either your contact would authorize paying you more for more information, or you’d have some tidbits to sell to Sergio. You were guaranteed a delicious meal, at least. 

The restaurant where you were due to meet Sergio was nice, upscale without being outrageously fancy. You’d been here once before, a few years back. But then, you’d looked quite different then. You’d changed your hair color since, as well as your style of dress. 

Nobody would remember you. 

Sergio was waiting for you - you always arrived precisely on time with him. If he showed up second, he took it as a personal affront and was useless for the next few hours as he worked through his temper tantrum. So, allowances had to be made. 

Like letting him kiss your cheek and pull your chair out for you.

“It has been too long,” he said, taking his seat across from you. 

“It has,” you agreed easily. “How are the girls?” 

“Ah, they are well. Sophia is nine now! And growing like a weed.” He chuckled fondly. “She is already so big. It seems like just yesterday she was small enough I could hold her with one hand.”

“Yes, children do grow fast,” you agreed with a slightly wistful smile. “Especially the ones you’re attached to.”

You both chuckled over that. When the waiter appeared, you let Sergio order drinks for you both. Another calculated move. He was a man who liked to believe he was in charge. 

But it wasn’t until after the appetizers had arrived that he brought up business.

“Any news from our friends in the south?” He feigned disinterest, glancing at you before looking back at his plate. 

“Nothing new, unfortunately.” You shrugged, very much a “what can you do?” “They insist they are on time, of course. I have a feeling they might benefit from a… surprise inspection. If you’d like me to go…”

“No need,” he said, waving off your offer. “I will be going myself in two weeks.”

“Perfect timing, then.” You smiled, though your heart beat faster with excitement at the new information. “I am sorry I don’t have a more satisfying update for you, then.” 

“It is hardly your fault. You are merely the messenger in this case.” His eyes gleamed at you from across the table, dangerous and sure of himself.

“I do hope I’ve earned more than simply being the messenger after all this time.” But you kept your tone light and teasing, smiling playfully. 

“Much more,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Minx. I would invite you back to remind you of what you are, but I won’t have time tonight.”

You pouted at him. “Busy schedule?” 

“Workers nowadays. Can hardly expect them to keep on top of the schedule unless you’re watching them. You know the feeling, I’m sure.”

“Of course,” you agreed in a murmur. “Nothing ever gets done right unless you oversee it yourself.”

“Precisely.” He tipped his glass to you in a silent toast, taking a sip. 

“Tight deadline, then?” 

He tipped his head back and forth. “Well, if I wasn’t due to be leaving in the morning, I’d push it a little, just for you.” His smile turned filthy.

You chuckled, one hand toying with the stem of your wine glass. “You flatter me.” That was likely as precise a time as you were going to get from him, and you didn’t dare push for more. That would just raise suspicion. 

You liked your head where it was and in one piece. 

“And what of you? You haven’t mentioned your plans at all.” His foot nudged yours under the table. 

“Well, since I’ll be robbed of the pleasure of your company… I have a little business of my own to attend to in Turkey. I’ll be catching an early flight out.”

“Time is simply not on our side this time,” Sergio agreed with a (slightly exaggerated) sigh. “Next time then, hm?”

“Of course.” You smiled, leaning back as the waiter brought your entrees out. “I’ll find something pretty for your girls in Turkey.” 

The rest of the conversation stayed away from business and leaned more towards pleasure - the latest hobbies of his two daughters, the ongoing complaints of their mothers, and his persistent search for the third future ex-wife. (He was hoping for a boy next time, he admitted.) 

The two of you parted ways amicably, and you didn’t watch as three other men melted out of the restaurant. Sergio was decently high up in his organization. It made sense he would have protection with him. 

You didn’t stop moving for twenty minutes, taking random twists and turns through the city until you ended up near the Black Label.

“No sign of a tail, Captain,” you murmured, walking into the same alleyway as before. You half-expected him to be there already. “I’ll give you five minutes before I decide to keep this as a souvenir.” 

He arrived in three, expression carefully neutral, though you thought you saw a tiny bit of grudging respect in his eyes. He held out one hand and you handed over the microphone. 

“Satisfied with your intel?” You smiled coyly at him. 

“Your money has been sent already,” he said, which was an answer. 

“Pleasure doing business with you, then.” You started to walk past him, only to stop when he stepped in your way.

“If I find out you’ve double crossed us…”

Your smile was still firmly fixed in place, although you had a feeling it was much less pleasant now. “Piece of advice for you, soldier,” you murmured, low and dangerous as a snake. “Your boss trusts me to get her good quality information, and she doesn’t meddle in my life. In return, I keep her secrets to myself. It’s a system that’s worked for us for a long time. Now, I doubt I’ll ever see you again, so here’s a nickel’s worth of free advice. Don’t tell me how to do my job, and I won’t ruin yours.” You bared your teeth in the barest mimicry of a smile. “Have a good night, Captain.” You stepped around him and continued on down the road. After half a dozen steps, you began whistling.

Just because you knew it annoyed some people. 

The walk to your hotel was uneventful, and you collected your things and left. The cab ride to the airport was silent, and you booked a flight to Turkey for first thing in the morning. 

You had some gifts to buy, after all.

[gumballavocadoharry]

Two singles, one baby:

*Harry's POV*

It was the glare of dawn that stung me awake with it's sharp resilient rays. The yellow glow shined on my face, nudging me awake before yell of my alarm could. I lazily rolled myself over the edge, where I could stretch myself awake. I heard stretching was a way to wake up in the morning and keep you from falling asleep.

It was practical advice for me, seeing as how only a week ago my problem lied with my bed head hitting the fabric of my soft feathery pillow. But I figured it was either a 5 more minute sleep or my job to pay the bills, so I think I made the right choice. I moped downstairs into the kitchen, where I heated the kettle on the stove, after pouring water inside. Oh how I fancied a cup of hot tea in the morning. I preferred the latter over coffee, only drinking the highly caffeinated drink in the case of my morning stretches not being enough of a wake up call.

While waiting, I took myself to my kitchen nook to listen to the cheerful melody's of the little sparrows that flew in and out of the backyard. I was a simple man, who enjoyed the small things in life. That's why living in this humble little blue house in the middle of the neighborhood was suitable and adequate. Some of my friends liked the high rise life of living richly or beyond their means; often setting them in debt before we graduated college.

They would always joke and nickname me the 'mom' of the group for my modest comforts and nonchalant attitude of partying wildly and running risky acts. I much rather preferred independent nights of ordering takeout and binging corney movies.

The hissing of kettle uprooted me from my seat, excitedly ready to pour a cup of chamomile. I fixed a slice of toast and bacon with it, before taking the breakfast to the table to enjoy. My eyes would toss themselves back and forth between my breakfast and my phone; checking emails from work and if there was anything that needed to be done. My eyes glanced to the round green clock that was hanging over the kitchen calendar. My morning walk. I never miss it, mostly because from being the stuffy office, it was the few little glimmer of vitamin D, I could conquer before the bullet of nightfall would reach, once office hours came to a halt.

I all too eagerly grabbed my sweat jacket and threw on some clothes. Nothing fancy or exercise type because it was more of a walk around for enjoyment with the benefit of getting healthy. I took a step outside on my welcome mat; the fresh air filling my lungs with tranquility and morning weather. After locking my front door, I walked onto the concrete sidewalk, taking the dew of the early morning.

The grass was still moist, the birds chirped eternally and the sounds of the world were quiet yet busy. But it wasn't until my eye caught the sight of the slender lady with her usual long ponytail that swung back and forth, withlist pushing the tall bulky stroller that carried her ten month old baby girl.

From what I heard of her, she's a single mother and widow. I see them always walking in the neighborhood every morning like me, sometimes whistling a tune along with the tweets of the birds that fly around. She always says hi when we pass glances from sharing the wide sidewalk. It's only then that I notice just how beautiful she is. Her treacly smile, her ticklish laugh, her peachy cheeks that she shares with her daughter is enticing. Like a waterfall in a greeny forest. Her daughter is already her mini mirror as she not only has features like her mother scarily, but her mannerisms are exactly like her as well.

If I'm lucky, I'm able to catch a glimpse of the infant who sits patiently in her in facing stroller, flashing her adorable little smile that I can't help but reciprocate with my own dimpled one. The only words I've said to the young lady were a "hi" which is as much as I could choke out. Walking up to her and asking: "Hello, I'm Harry. Wanna go out on a date with me?" And then watch her run away from me in horror. I shook the odious thought from my head; wanting to continue my pleasant walk.

But eyes kept glancing back and forth from the lady and baby, walking across the street. Her house must be there? I almost knocked myself into a streetlight from watching the beauty take her quotidian strolls. My heart sped up a million times just from staring at her. And no, it wasn't from the walk that I was accidentally hyping myself up from. Butterflies fluttered around inside my nervous stomach when her diamond eyes would beeline over in my direction.

She was a catch. And I was ready to wheel her in as well. But there just wasn't a moment where I could start a conversation and we would share a laugh, maybe escalate to a coffee or a fancy dinner? Or....

I was getting ahead of myself. I often pictured it being a icy day in the break of winter, her car getting stuck; me shoveling it out; giving her some hot chocolate...maybe giving her baby a teddy bear or story book. My daydreaming is what caught me off my toes to my beeping watch. I rushed back inside the house and ran into the shower, scrubbing myself so I could be ready for work.

I threw on my uniform that was office styled in a dress shirt and a red tie and khakis. Granted it wasn't the 'coolest' style of clothing I've ever worn, but the benefits of being in an office cubicle half the day; became greater upon realizing this was one of them.

I grabbed my cell phone, wallet and keys, before whisking myself out the door and into my car.

Telemarketing wasn't the most favored job in the world, as it was met with abrupt hangups, people cursing you out and just no one answering. But that didn't stop my paycheck. I mean, I knew as much as the next person telemarketers were annoying, but I've never known anyone to be in a full on rage with them; in the same way detectives, police officers and lawyers have to watch their backs of lurking perpetrators everytime they dare start the engine of their car or sit by a clear window in their own home.

At least that's where my worries took me: in a deep little whirlpool of the duskiness and fatalistic little carousel I took myself on. But despite the supposition of the job, it did make me gain more respect for the telemarketing industry. I don't find myself joining in with all those people who hang up impatiently or who condemn them as a blocked number in their phones out of sympathy.

After all, I would go through that a hundred times a day, no matter how much of a genial tone I would portray. One guy actually threatened me to the extent of finding where I live. I hung immediately and reported the number to my supervisor who took him off the call list.

It wasn't until I pulled up the short 5 foot tanish building, that my mind ran into work mode. It was basically second nature now to not have to strain a jovial tone with people who couldn't give a crap about your marketing and weren't opposed to let you know it.

But it wasn't like we were scamming people: I could never work for someone who does; we were actually meaning it with the things we tried to advertise: life insurance, car insurance, even random things like food, clothes and makeup.

I usually worked in that department, as it wasn't as brutal there.

The long fatiguing hours went by faster than usual; which came as a surprise as I spent most of the time watching the tiny particle dust bunnies float effortlessly in the sunlight.

I was charmed to see the sun was beetling in between twilight and the diluted water blue that had variations of peach and sunkist mixed together. I was so eager to enjoy the rest of the day, that I had subconsciously undid my tie before even setting in my car.

The radio played some mellow hits that were entertainment for getting home; but only upon then I saw the ponytail lady and her baby, who was a wailing mess. I practically hopped out of my car car while it was still moving and parked it in the driveway.

I noticed them on my side of the street and standing only a little feet in front of my house. Despite the jitters dangling in the back of my throat, I still managed to gasp out an: "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, well...no. My little girl's toy is stuck in that tree and....I'm sorry I didn't mean to stand in front of your house...I was just thinking of how I could get it down..."

"It's no problem-I'll get it," She looked at me like I was a magician who had just claimed to tell the future. But her face changed once she saw the guy who was in khakis and a loose tie, climb the tree like a desperate monkey and snag the little barbie doll with such ease. "Thank you so much!" She gratefully said. She was enamored at the moment I handed the baby her doll.

She cooed and smiled at with 3 toothed grin. "There you go sweetie," I cooed. "Thank you again" Her mother said, this time more sentiment in her voice. My eyes were infatuated with her grateful glimmer in her eyes. Maybe it was that fatherly instinct she sensed in me that charmed her; after all, I did always want children. "She's so cute, what's her name?" I said, hoping to break the ice of our anything but casual stares at one another.

"Bethany, but we call her Beth for short," I punctuated a smile, "That's a pretty name...Bethany." I liked the way it rolled off my tongue. And what's your mummy's name?

"I'm Yn," I think she sensed my notion. "Beautiful name, yn," I said with such grace. It rolled and bounced off the tip of my tongue and into a bucket of first impressions. "I'm Harry," I said, practically filicking myself for not giving a proper introduction to myself.

"Harry. A boy in my class had that same name and I always loved it." Yn tried to make small talk with the little piece of info she had to use with me. I smiled, the deafening sounds of awkwardness were becoming confident. "It was nice meeting you...and you," I said waving to Beth. "Thank you, it was great meeting you too, and thank you again...she loves that doll." Yn's voice sounded junctured.

She bit her lip wanting to say more, but left it at that. "See you around." She smiled and walked off, holding the little girl in her arms. I smiled, watching her walk away. Yn. Her name was now a tattoo in my brain. It played like a video montage of all the times we've interacted.

But this time was different. I went back into my house and started on dinner which consisted of a light sandwich, lemonade and some little debbie cupcakes I had stored away in the pantry.

My evening plans consisted of sappy comedy shows and my elementary school dinner. But it was the thought of Yn that summoned my mind off the unfilling dinner. Her perfect cupid's bow that themed her curvaceous lips were a plump bunny pink. Her natural rosation of her cheeks in the brilliant sunshine; her perfect smile that flaunts her rigidly straight teeth. Everything about her just seem to come into this distinguishable beam of light.

My heart became warm and fuzzy from thinking of her presence that was so illuminating. Yn had a certain awe about her that made her stand out. She could enthrall attention without even trying. And of course, the little beauty that she always takes with her is an eyestopper too.

My night dreams were filled with a flourish of her face. I know some might call it a pathetic teenage dream; a childlike wish that would never be wished upon by a star. But to me this was something....

Yes, I knew it was just a little crush, but it was just mere loneliness that was anchor to my wishes of a companion. The flicker of being alone wasn't as scary as the thought of not mattering to someone. I wanted someone, I wanted to make someone happy. Someone to cherish; not out of desperation, but genuine lust of a meaningful relationship.

The answers to my wish were upon on my front door with a number that led to yn, and an invitation to a coffee date.

My heart.....was taking shape to such a glorious frame. And yn's name....was an imprint to it.

*Sorry if the ending was a bit dopey....*

To @haarrrys for giving me inspiration everyday!!!!

[loregoddess]

okay one of my all-time favorite fanarts for the first Octopath game were these doodles of the travelers sleeping, and it made me want to make art of the Octo2 travelers sleeping but I don't have a lot of energy for art lately so I don't think that'll happen, however I was still inspired to come up with a whole bunch of headcanons about the sleeping habits of the Octo2 travelers, sooo...I wrote them instead. Cheers. (some story spoilers)

Ochette Ochette has official art showing her sleeping, so we know she sleeps curled in a tight little ball (although she probably repositions herself in her sleep), but I also think she nests. Like, all the time. Staying at an inn? Ochette turns those blankets into a nest and curls up in them. Camping? no need for a sleeping bag (unless it's cold) she'll just tamp down some grass and make a nest. Will also nest in trees by rearranging the branches and leaves. Nests in Osvald's hair on occasion.

Also I think Ochette's a huge cuddler. She's usually cuddled with Akala or Mahina, but once she gets to know the other travelers better and figures out their personal boundaries, she'll cuddle anyone who's okay with it (probably usually Agnea and Castti. Throne wants to cuddle Ochette so badly but refuses to ask...Ochette eventually figures it out though. Osvald swears he doesn't know anything about Ochette making nests of his hair or snuggling into his coat during cold nights, but everyone knows he has the soul of a loving father. One time Ochette fell asleep leaning against Hikari and he was afraid to move at all for the rest of the night).

Follows something of a crepuscular sleeping schedule, so Ochette's most active at dawn and dusk, naps in the middle of the day, and sleeps through most of the night (although she's skilled at night hunting and can stay up most of the night if need be). Ochette can technically stay awake for a couple of days at a time if she's taking breaks and short rests, since it's useful for tracking and stalking prey over longer distances, but doesn't prefer this type of a hunt. Can also technically follow a "typical diurnal human" sleeping schedule, but Ochette thinks it's stupid. Would love siestas if they existed in Solistia.

Overall quick to fall asleep, quick to wake up. Only feels groggy if it's cold or the weather's bad, as she'd prefer to continue sleeping snuggled up in her warm nest.

Castti Castti can sleep anywhere, anytime, in any position, but mostly because she does not have any sort of healthy sleeping habits or regular sleeping schedule. Terrible, terrible habit of just staying awake to help patients and then passing out as soon as she gets a brief break in her work (her sleeping at a table in her ending card artwork attests to this). She was better about getting proper sleep when she was with Eir's Apothecaries and could share the work, and the other travelers are good at nagging her to get to sleep, but Castti doesn't really hold her own sleep health to the same standards she'll expect of her patients (she is, canonically, a bit reckless about her own health, re: Osvald telling to her to take better care of herself in that one travel banter). Snores if she's gone too long without sleeping, and won't stop until she's gotten at least two hours of sleep.

Not a really deep sleeper, but not a light sleeper either. Castti has the ability to sort of sense when someone around her needs medical help, and wakes up accordingly to help them. If no one's in trouble though she could sleep through a hailstorm on a tin roof. Because she doesn't follow any fixed sleeping schedule, her body's innate sleeping cycles are a bit wonky, but if Castti allowed herself to return to a "normal" sleeping schedule she'd be the sort of person who was up before the sun rose, and be in bed as soon as the sun set.

Throne Throne is the lightest sleeper in the group. A mouse scampering across the inn floor could wake her. Always sleeps on her side with a dagger in hand. If she's at an inn, she chooses whichever bed is against a wall or in a corner with no windows, so that nothing can sneak up behind her as she sleeps, and sleeps facing out towards the rest of the room. If she's camping then she either chooses a location where she can't easily be ambushed (under an overhanging boulder/cliff, against a large tree), or begrudgingly sleeps on her back so she can survey the area around her. Once she's more comfortable with the other travelers, she's willing to treat them as "walls" that she can safely have her back to, but overall being raised by a syndicate of assassins made her an extremely cautious sleeper.

Given the nature of her work, Throne's mostly nocturnal, opting to sleep through the day, and be awake all night long. However, some jobs required more flexibility, so Throne also learned to just sort of be up whenever she needed to be up, and sleep whenever she could. If left to her own devices though she prefers to sleep through the day. Very quick to wake up, but also doesn't have too much trouble getting to sleep either.

Osvald Before prison Osvald was probably the sort of person to stay up late into the night as he pursued his research, and sleep in late during the morning. A very deep sleeper as well, although he did acquire the parental "oh shit, my kid needs me time to be fully awake" instinct when Elena was a baby that never really went away as she got older (Castti recruited Osvald to help her nurse the others when they get sick because he started having the parental "oh shit" reaction to the other travelers as well). If he needed to be up early for some sort of scholarly conference or to teach classes or something, then Rita was the one to get him up in a timely manner (she was more of a morning person), which was good because Osvald would take 1-2 hours just to fully wake up (very serious coffee person).

Osvald's time in prison changed him however, and between the cold and needing to survey everyone and everything in the prison, he stopped sleeping through the night and would sleep in short bursts instead. Like Throne, he became a very cautious sleeper, making sure his back was to a wall while he remained hyper-vigilant of his surroundings. Whatever his sleep schedule might have been didn't matter since he had to abide by the prison's work schedules. Being passed out as he washed up on the shores of Cape Cold was the first long "sleep" Osvald had in five years.

After escaping, he's sort of in a weird in-between state where part of his mind still thinks he's in constant danger and wants to continue being stressed and vigilant, and another part that realizes he's safe now and wants to finally get some rest. As a result Osvald's sleeping habits are...haphazard during his travels. Sometimes he manages to sleep just fine, sometimes he's restless, sometimes he'll be up for two days straight claiming he can't sleep. One time Castti offered him some sleeping medicine and he slept for almost an entire day. He doesn't stop being vigilant, although he's not quite as cautious as Throne (no weapons on hand), but this mostly just results in him knowing everyone else's sleeping habits and troubles. Partway through the travels, Osvald does ease up a bit as he's able to accept he's not in constant danger, and as he comes to trust the others more he begins to relax enough to start recovering his old sleeping habits.

Eventually, he is able to recover most of his sleeping habits, staying up late researching, and sleeping in late (unfortunately Clarissa and Elena have the same sleep schedule, so if they all need to be somewhere early chances are they're going to be collectively late). Osvald never does quite shake some of the habits picked up from prison though, and doesn't sleep as deeply as he once did.

Partitio Partitio doesn't sleep in any really odd positions, although he does rotisserie chicken through the night, turning from one side to his back to his other side to his stomach and back to his side, all without really waking up. Snores like a motor if he's on his back, but if one of the other travelers kicks him or tosses something at him, he'll turn over and stop snoring (won't remember this in the morning). Sleeps extremely deeply as well, and can sleep through almost anything. Coughing wakes Partitio up immediately though, because of the time he spent nursing his father's poor health--this in turn makes him a great nurse if any of the other travelers fall sick, and Castti was pretty quick to recruit him to being her aide as well.

Growing up working in mines meant Partitio was pretty tired come night, and would just pass out. He's a natural morning person, and typically follows a very regular "wake up with the rising sun, go to sleep with the starlight" schedule. Only oversleeps if he partied too hard late into the night, or else had to stay up all night for some reason.

Agnea Tosses and turns the most through the night. Not out of discomfort, Agnea just, doesn't really stay still when she sleeps, and sleeps in the strangest positions as well when she isn't moving around. At an inn the bed's covers will be an absolute mess when she gets up, and her sleeping bag ends up cocooned around her in ways the other travelers didn't think possible. Worst bedhead as well, it takes her a good half hour to get her hair brushed out sometimes. Which is fine because it usually takes her a bit to fully wake up in the morning (although if she's excited about something, Agnea can get up and be ready to go in ten minutes flat).

Also a bit of a sleep-talker, but the sort of "nonsense" sleep talk that almost seems to make sense but doesn't. The other travelers have held entire nonsense conversations with Agnea as she sleeps. She of course, does not have any memory of these conversations when she wakes up, nor do any of her dreams match the content of the conversations recounted to her. Agnea was a bit embarrassed by this at first, until she realized the others weren't teasing her to be mean, but because her nightly chatter was truly amusing in an endearing sort of way.

Prefers to sleep late into the morning/early afternoon and stay up into the night, since it fits her schedule as a dancer better. However, Angea also has one of those internal alarm clocks, so if she needs to get up early in the morning, she just tells herself at what time to wake up and then she does. Absolute envy of Pala, who does not have an internal alarm clock. Very useful when she's travelling though, since she can make sure all the other travelers are up on time if she needs too. Also, given the size of Solistia I'm assuming there's like, major time zone differences, but I feel like Agnea would be one of those people who almost never suffers from jetlag (partly bc the means to travel across the time zones quickly enough doesn't yet exist, but also because she just has a naturally good internal sense of time and adjusts to the times the sun rises and sets pretty quickly).

Temenos Temenos looks like he sleeps peacefully. On his back, hands folded over his chest, perfectly still, no matter if he's in a bed at an inn, or a sleeping bag while camping. The truth is it takes him 1-3 hours to actually fall asleep, and he's just pretending to sleep while he tries to get thoughts about whatever case (or general stress thoughts) out of his mind. Ochette, Throne, and Osvald have figured this out, since Temenos's breathing isn't actually steady until he's fallen asleep (Ochette has good ears, Throne's used to keeping a close eye on those around here, and Osvald also got good at monitoring his cellmates and the prison guards, which carried over to his traveling companions). Once he is asleep though, Temenos sleeps fairly deeply.

He's also had these issues getting to sleep since forever. When Temenos was really young, Jorg would read him stories from the scriptures, and once Temenos learned to read he'd stay up late reading and rereading these stories in hopes that the tedious language would bore him to sleep. This is at least part of the reason why he's memorized almost all the stories in the scriptures, even if he can't remember the details exactly. Sometimes if he knows he's not going to get to sleep easily, he'll still read, although he's expanded his reading list to just about every genre, and usually always has some sort of book on hand as a result.

Because he remains in the same position all night, Temenos wakes up stiff and needs to stretch to loosen his muscles. However, when he has nightmares he tends to toss and turn a bit, and then just wakes up achy from having slept in an odd position. Night owl by nature, feels most awake in the evening and early night, and would sleep half the day except his duties as inquisitor and cleric require Temenos to get up early (which he uses an alarm clock for, maybe? I mean, mechanical clocks do exist in Solistia, so...). Wakes up fairly quickly, but is always a little tired throughout the day.

Hikari Hikari tends to sleep mostly on his side, and also keeps a weapon nearby (he did grow up participating in a concerning number of wars and battles). He prefers to get up early and go to bed early, but given the need for flexibility on a battlefield, can and has stayed up through the night and slept part of the day with little consequence. Hikari's also an incredibly quiet and still sleeper, rarely repositioning except to sometimes roll onto his back.

He is also a deceptively peaceful-looking sleeper. Hikari's issue is less that he can't get to sleep easily, and more that he's afraid of the Shadow overtaking him somehow while he sleeps, a fear that was especially prevalent when he was in active warzones. Without anyone he could really discuss this with, Hikari had to figure out how to get to sleep on his own, and eventually settled for meditating before he planned to sleep. During his meditation he focuses on suppressing the Shadow the same way he's able to suppress it when he's awake, and specifically visualizes locking the Shadow away for the duration of his sleep. This meditation tactic, once Hikari refined it, did help him sleep with lessened fear of the Shadow overtaking him. It didn't stop him from occasionally having nightmares about the Shadow though, which eventually led to Hikari figuring out how to lucid dream so he could get the Shadow out of his dreams as well.

All this means that, so long as Hikari has adequate time to set up, he's able to meditate and then simply lay down and go to sleep. Unfortunately, it also means that he will refuse to sleep if he does not have adequate time to properly mediate, and has on occasion just...stayed awake for a concerning amount of time. Hikari's so earnest and polite about insisting he simply can't sleep though that the other travelers have a hard time arguing with him in these rare instances where he refuses to sleep. When, on occasion, he ends up knocked out from a battle (or getting zapped off a bridge), and doesn't have control over passing out, Hikari actually does fine, since his subconscious kicks in to keep him safe from the Shadow, but this doesn't stop him from practicing his disciplined sleep ritual.

Hikari doesn't ever truly stop his meditation before sleeping after the events of his story, but he stops forcing himself to stay awake out of fear if he can't meditate, much to the relief of his friends and retainers. It's less that Hikari no longer fears the Shadow, and more that he believes in his own strength to keep it out of his mind entirely. At that point, Hikari actually sleeps just as peacefully as he looks while sleeping.

[duckchu]

Under The Weather SDV Sebastian x reader

Reader isn't the farm, pre established relationship (Sebastian is your boyfriend), jealous Sebastian, reader is a baker since imo Pelican Town deservers a bakery

It was a week since the farmer moved in. She looked like a nice gal, although very silent. She sometimes stopped by your bakery and listened to your rants about Joja putting your shop out of business. She would even sometimes gift you your favourite items. You really grew to like her, even sometimes allowing her to hang out in the back and visiting her farm for garnishes for your dishes, unfortunately that meant you had practically no time for your boyfriend, Sebastian. Due to the nature of his job, you would usually hang out in his basement, with him doing some last fixes for his latest code and watching a movie later. You were sad that you haven't seen him in more than a week. Maybe you should stop by Robin's, especially since you needed to fix one of the displays, as the wood on it started cracking.

Next day you closed shop early to go visit your future mother in law and after giving her the money for the display fix up, the farmer walked in. You wanted to go to your boyfriends room, but she stopped you, handing you a really pretty crocus, one of your favourites.

- Oh my...Thank you - you gave her a big smile and put the flower into your bag, going down stairs into the basement. Sebastian was sitting in his chair, eyes fixed on his computer. You walked up to him and gave him a peck on the cheek, alerting him to your presence. He nodded to greet you, busy with his work while you sat down on his bed and took out your tablet, looking for movies to watch this evening. You felt good about returning to your usual routine. That was until Seb finished his work, getting up and looking at you, noticing the crocus.

- Did she give this to you again?- He didn't look mad or hurt or even upset, but you knew deep down he was mad at the farmer. Sebastian wasn't usually a jealous guy, but he felt like he was only with you due to the fact that he got lucky. He was sure everyone in town thought you would be better off with someone with an actual life. Like Alex, Hayley or even Sam. Now that the farmer has appeared, he was sure you would have preferred to be with her...No matter what you told him, he kept on deluding himself to stay in his misery. It pained you to see him like this. You couldn't come up with a good answer to his question so you just pulled him into a hug to at least try to reassure him that you aren't planning to leave him anytime soon.

Ah, Spring, the new plants, the air getting warm...You couldn't help but to enjoy the season. The 24th approached quickly so you dusted off the old white dress and went to the field. Looking for Sebastian, you ran into the farmer. She seemed to be enamoured by your looks in the dress. It was...flattering to have this kind of attention. You knew Sebastian tried his best to show you affection, but he was bad at it...You were sure he loved you, but he couldn't show it...You looked for Sebastian again, but it seemed like he didn't show up...You sighed, then the farmer asked you to dance. Well if Seb wasn't going to come anyways...You decided to agree and go back to socialising when you saw him. You felt shame engulf you as he approached, knowing that you're gonna have to deny him.

- Y/N, would you like to dance with me? - he asked, a light smile on his face, how unlikely of him. It felt even more crushing to deny him

- I would love to, but I didn't think you'd come and then the farmer asked me...- the sudden change in his expression hurt you, his smile disappearing

- I understand - he said, as much as he didn't want to show, his hurt apparent in his eyes. You felt so disappointed in yourself for making him feel that way. You went up to the farmer and the dance begun, you looked sadly at Sebastian standing in the corner, not wanting to participate even with Abigail, his best friend...You decided to make it up to him.

As the days of spring went by, you finally caught a rainy one. You went to the pier, with hopes of seeing your beloved there.

You were really lucky, finding him in the exact spot he always was. You walked up to him.

- Sebastian? - he looked at you, his cigarette hanging from his mouth

- I'm sorry about the flower dance...I thought you wouldn't come and...the farmer asked me and...-

- I understand. - he cut you off

- No, Seb, I love you...- He looked surprised, almost like he was expecting you to say something different. He looked at you, soaked wet and almost... desperate to prove that you really love him, even though you risked being sick. He looked back at all the moments you've spent with him and finally realised just how sincere you were when you said those words.

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Please don't mind me sucking at endings thank you

~ Dukchu