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sinner-as-saint · 4 years ago

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‘Till We Bleed Out - 1.

Vampire!bucky x reader AU

Part 1 of this series.

Run-through: Your car breaks down on a deserted road on a rainy night. You have no other option but to seek shelter from the nearest house you could find; the mansion, which happened to be the talk of the town for its mysteriousness along with its equally mysterious owner, Mr. Barnes. The universe can be tricky sometimes but the fact that you found yourself at that mansion’s doorstep at that time was no simple coincidence. That one night changes everything forever - quite literally. True love, past lives and creatures from folklore; turns out it’s all real.

Themes throughout the series: vampire!bucky, fluff, smut, angst

You knocked on the large wooden door and took a step back, hands shaking with how nervous you were.

You were quite far from your neighborhood, and none of your friends were in town currently. So really so there was no one who could come pick you up. Plus, the thunderstorm was making things worse. Your car had broken down for no reason while you were heading back home. And you drove down this road often, to get to the other side of the town and you always, always admired this mansion - at the doorstep of which you found yourself at the moment.

The mansion was renowned for its unusualness. It was the largest property around so definitely whoever owns it must be extremely well-off. Another reason why it was so talked about is because no one personally knew the man who owned it. People saw him once in a while, some claimed to have seen him at the library, or at the museum or at the coffee shops. He had no friends apparently, always seen alone. No one knew of his occupation, or how he was able to afford and maintain this large estate.

Most people said he was stand-offish, or mean, or rude or arrogant. Well, whatever he was, you were about to find out in a few seconds given that you were now knocking at his front door. What if he doesn’t agree to help? Or worse, what if he’s a creepy weirdo who-

Your thoughts were cut short as the door flew open. And the man revealed himself. Your gaze locked with his and for a brief moment, it felt like time had stopped. Blue eyes. The bluest you had ever seen. Magnetic, mesmerizing. Strong jaw, broad shoulders - the man was a dream.

I finally found you…

For some reasons those words echoed in your head, and you felt a pressing need to say them out loud. You had to force yourself out of whatever trance you were under and come back to reality.

You cleared your throat. “Hello Mr. Barnes. I apologize for-,”

He cut you off, abruptly. “Come on in.” he spoke with a warm smile and opened the door wider. And you found yourself under his spell just by the sound of his voice, again.

“But Mr. Barnes you didn’t even let me-,” you realized it would be much better if you told him why you were here in the first place, you would hate to impose.

He gave you another smile as he waited for you to enter his home, closing the door behind you. “You’re a long way from home, I figured that the only reason why you would be here at this time is because you need shelter from the terrible weather, or maybe your car broke down.” He gave you a soft look, “So which is it?”

You looked down at your shoes now drenched by the rain, sheepishly answering, “Both actually.” You looked back up at him and finally took all of him in. You had to admit, he was just as they described him; very, very handsome.

Tall, dark hair, blue eyes. He looked like he was crafted by the gods above. His soft sweater gave him a very warm look, but his eyes - icy blue, they reminded you of glaciers and mountain tops, and snowstorms. He was the kind of man one could spend hours looking at. And the more you looked at him, the more details you picked up on. For instance, how perfect his nose was. Or how well he carried himself, or just how mature and wise his facial hair made him look. He was… oddly familiar. Maybe you had seen him at the library or something before.

He must've caught you checking him out judging by the smirk he gave you. You cleared your throat again, looking everywhere else but right at him. “I promise I’ll be gone by morning, Mr. Barnes.”

He took a step forward and you froze in place. “Please, call me Bucky. And you can stay for as long as you need too, there’s no way I’m letting you leave until this terrible storm passes.” And just as he said that, you heard the thunder roar right above you.

“Thank you.” you replied with a shy smile. Normally, whenever you came face to face with men this handsome, you’d turn into a nervous mess. But Bucky had a sense of familiarity with him. Warmth, comfort; you couldn’t explain it. “You have a lovely home.” you commented.

Bucky looked right at you with a look in his eyes which you couldn’t quite decipher. Longing? Sadness? Or was it just you who was overthinking? “Thank you.” he stared at you for a few more seconds before rushing over to the coat hangers and grabbed one, holding it open for you. “I’m sorry, it seems I forgot how to be a good host. We don’t get many visitors.”

You happily accepted the coat and turned back around to smile at him. “I think you’re doing perfectly alright.”

He smiled and opened his mouth to say something but another voice beat him to it. “Who is it? I heard someone come in. Is it-,”

The woman with brown hair and a white apron, who suddenly emerged from one of the hallways, stopped talking the moment she saw you. Her lips parted in surprise and you could��ve sworn you heard her gasp. You assumed it was because of the odd time you showed up.

“Oh…” she seemed surprised. “Hello miss...” her eyes searched for Bucky and the moment she found him, her eyes widened again.

Bucky spoke up. “Wanda, this is Y/N. She will be spending the night here. Could you prepare the guestroom for her please?”

The woman, Wanda, smiled brightly and you wondered how she had this much energy at this time of the night. “Of course! Right away.” And with that, she left. Leaving you and Bucky alone again. You turned to face him again.

“That was my housekeeper, Wanda. Her and her husband take care of the house.” He explained, and you nodded.

“She seemed a little surprised upon seeing me. I didn’t mean to disturb your household at such a time, I’m-”

He cut you off again, stepping closer and gently placing his cold hands on your shoulder. You shivered a little and he didn’t seem to notice. “Y/N, listen to me. You don’t have to apologize, you didn’t disturb anyone, okay?”

His piercing blue eyes were making it hard for you to focus on what he was saying but you grasped whatever you could and nodded in understanding. “Okay.” You tried hard not to, but you couldn’t help but be all bothered by his simple touch. His very presence screamed power, in a good way. You felt safe.

“Good. Now come on, you could use some rest.” He held your hand in his gently, and led you up the grand stairs. He took your hand in his with such ease almost like he had done so a thousand times before, and you let him.

You took in more and more of the house as you moved upstairs. It was the right mixture between modern and vintage. Parts of the house looked like it belonged in one of the home décor magazines you were currently obsessed with, while others seemed like they were pieces of ancient manors. It was unusually, hauntingly beautiful.

Once you entered the guest room, you felt a wave of emotions hit you right in the face. Like homesickness, but for a place you had never stepped in before until this very moment. Nostalgia, but for a moment back in time which you had never lived in.

The room was absolutely gorgeous. Dark wooden interior, with accents of black and gold. A chandelier which reminded you of an ancient castle, and a bed which seemed fit for royalty. “I must say, you have incredible taste in interior décor.”

Bucky chuckled. “I take it you like the room. Very well then, you’ll find everything you need in the closets and in the bathroom.” He took a step back. “And if you need anything, anything at all, just call out.”

You giggled as he said so. “This place is massive. There’s no way you’re gonna hear me if I call out for you.”

He let out a little laugh. “Trust me doll, I will hear you.” And with that, he left.

You watched him as he closed the door behind him, feeling just a little more warm after that nickname. You let out a sigh of satisfaction. Well, you were weirdly comfortable here. You walked further into the room, taking in every little detail. You took off the coat Bucky gave you earlier and placed it down on one of the couches. Taking off your heels, you made your way to the bathroom and it was everything one can dream of.

You searched the cabinets and closets and found sweatpants and t-shirts which would fit you. Grabbing a set of clothes, you hopped into the shower and forgot about your broken down car and the thunderstorm. Instead, you thought of Bucky. What a peculiar man he is; no one in the town knows where he comes from, or what he does but here you were seeking help from him, showering his bathroom.

There was something about him, a sense of ease and warmth which many people lack when you first meet them. But Bucky was different. It almost felt like you’ve known him all your life.

When you stepped out, all refreshed and dressed you sensed a change the moment you walked back into the bedroom. Someone was here.

“I brought you some tea. To warm you up a little.”

You turned around and found Bucky sat on one of the couches by the bed. You instantly smiled, instead of being startled. He was so easy to be around.

You walked towards him. You picked up one of the cups from the coffee table and brought it up to your nose, softly blowing on it before inhaling the lovely scent.

“It’s chamomile and lavender.” Bucky said, and you faced him with a big smile.

“My favorite, thank you.” you smiled at the odd coincidence as you took a sip of the tea. It soothed you immediately.

Bucky picked up his own cup and took a slow sip as he watched you intently. “Tell me about yourself, Y/N.”

The way your name rolled off his tongue sent shivers down your spine. Which then reminded you that you never actually told him your name. Or maybe you did and you forgot.

You held your warm cup with both hands and began. You told him your name, where you’re from, where you work and a little bit about your family. You knew you shouldn’t be giving this much detail about your life to a stranger but you were currently drinking tea in his guest room wearing clothes he provided, so the least you could do is engage fully in the conversation.

He did a little nod after each piece of information you fed him, and you found it adorable.

“It’s your turn.” you spoke after you were done talking about yourself.

He smiled. It was a sad smile, or so it seemed. Surely you were overthinking. “I’m quite a boring person to be honest. I work all day, and I work all night. My family is… not around so I have to handle everything. All their businesses and companies around the country.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely here? I mean it’s a magnificent home but, to live here alone must be quite hard, no?”

You didn’t mean to pry but the way he looked straight into your eyes made you want to know the man a little better. Why was he so calm and collected? How is he so okay with you just being in his home? Why is he so kind? He didn’t seem old, then why did he give off the vibes of being so mature and wise, like he’s lived lifetimes before this one?

“Memories can be great company.” He answered in a tone which gave away that the man had lost a lot. Perhaps a close family member? Or a friend or a spouse? He added, “And this house is full of it.”

“You grew up here?” you couldn’t help but ask.

He gave you that same look; sad, longing like he was desperately trying to show certain emotion but he couldn’t.

“I moved here. With my wife.” Those words of his caused your heart to feel heavy. “But she passed, a long time ago.” The look on his face made your heart burn for some reasons. The need to comfort him took over you but you refrained from doing so, it wasn’t your place to.

“You must’ve loved her a lot.” You didn’t ask, you stated. Because it showed.

He had that same sad smile on his face. “She was my everything. My lifeline.”

He sounded so broken, it hurt. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He smiled again. “You know, I like to think that the things we lose end up coming back to us, eventually. One way or another.”

That didn’t really make sense to you right away, but it was a beautiful thought nonetheless. “That’s beautiful.”

He stared into your eyes again, and it seemed like he was fighting something back. The need to say something perhaps. “It’s late. You should get some sleep.” And just as he said that, the thunder roared again, as loud as it could.

You stood up as he did. He said goodnight and left. And you were left standing there wondering what the hell happened in the past few minutes. His presence alone made you feel safe for some reasons. Knowing that he was just a few doors down the hallway made you less anxious. Even when you settled under the covers, it didn’t feel like a foreign bed.

You wondered why. How could you have settled into an unfamiliar home so easily? It wasn’t weird, just surprising.

With the help of the tea, you drifted off to sleep in no time. Dreaming about ballrooms, and kissing a man inside a beautiful mansion and… and a pair of ocean blue eyes…

A flutter on your cheek, and you looked up to find a pair of blue eyes looking down at you. “Hello sweetheart. You ready?” the man said as he offered you a red rose.

You nodded, despite his face being quite blurry. You felt his arms around you, and you felt safe; like nothing could go wrong and this was a perfect world. You felt his lips place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Your surroundings changed and now you were at a ball, wearing a lovely rose gold gown, arms linked with the tall man. The music was unfamiliar but lovely. He twirled you around and pulled you close, your one hand carefully placed in his and the other on his shoulder. You noticed the shiny ring on your ring finger, and the wedding band on his. You smiled, realizing that this was your husband and all was well.

Your surroundings faded again. Now you were inside your home. A beautiful home, with the fireplace warming the room you were in. Your blue-eyed husband was beside you again, the two of you sat by the fireplace and he offered you a glass of wine. You smiled, taking it from him. You felt a slight discomfort inside your mouth, around your front teeth but that was alright, it seemed like you were used to it. You brought the wine glass up to your lips, letting some of the contents into your mouth. It wasn’t wine, but you seemed to enjoy it nonetheless.

Euphoria, you felt utter euphoria as you stared into the same pair of eyes only this time they were so red, they seemed black. He reached out and held your face in place and tilted his head just a little; deepening the kiss. He nibbled on your lower lip and shoved his tongue past your lips. Your body tingled in his arms. It all felt so right and perfect, it felt like a dream. Like a dream inside a dream.

Gentle sin, that’s what it felt like when he pulled you closer, his hand slipping under your night dress and resting on your thigh while his other hand cupped your cheek. Your hands slid into his hair naturally and he moaned into the kiss again when you tugged at his roots a little. He kissed down your neck, his arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your body against his. He nibbled on the skin at the side of your throat, his teeth sharp and you were sure he left marks on your skin, but you didn’t mind.

You gasped and moaned. This felt right. He pulled away after a while. He looked down at you with pink, swollen, parted lips. Slightly breathless, and his eyes showed nothing but love and passion, and a hunger like you had never seen before, but it was all familiar. His face was unclear, but you could make out certain features of his and he was oddly familiar too.

“I love you.” He mumbled.

You knew that voice…

“I love you so much.” He whispered against your lips, his hand slipping in between your legs with no shame; his knuckles gently stroked your wet folds; making you shiver at his touch. He smiled against your lips upon feeling just how aroused you were, before he pulled away and kissed down your body. He took your sensitive nipples in his mouth.

He sucked on the soft skin as his teeth applied just the slightest bit of pressure upon the bud. His warm tongue swirling around your nipple had you throwing your head back in pleasure.

Your eyes closed as you relished his touch. You felt him kiss his way down your body; from your lips all the way down to your hip bones; his lips soft and gentle on your skin.

He placed his hands on either one of your thighs and slowly spread your legs further apart and attached his lips to your core without any hesitation. You moaned out loud as you felt his warm mouth on top of your dripping core. His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance; occasionally flicking your throbbing clit mercilessly.

Obscene, wet sounds erupted from where his mouth latched on to your core, and the sight was just as sinful. He had dark hair you noticed. The room was getting darker and darker as well. You could see your arousal drenching the lower half of his face as he ate you out relentlessly until you were nothing but a moaning, hot mess, squirming on the large bed.

Your body arched off the bed for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you when his tongue slowly circled around your sensitive clit. The pressure between your legs was building up nicely.

With a few more strokes of his tongue, you let go and gushed out all over his face without any warning. He licked you clean, then kissed his way up your body again. “You’re all mine, Y/N.” he whispered softly against your lips as he settled in between your legs again. You shuddered under him and whined against his mouth, the feeling reminding you a lot of how you shivered earlier when a pair of cold hands held you gently by the shoulder.

Your body felt tingly as he pushed himself fully into you. He lifted his head to look at you and you gasped quietly in surprise. It was Bucky. Although he still had dark eyes, and sharp canines?

He didn’t give you time to think too much. You moaned out loud once he filled you up entirely, and he gave you a couple of seconds to relax your tense body. You wrapped around him perfectly. You were so full of his thick cock that even forming a proper thought seemed impossible at the moment. You shuddered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, kissing you deeply while he rolled his hips against yours.

His body felt cold. But it also felt familiar. Being so close to him felt right.

You whimpered as he slowly slipped out of you completely, before slamming back into you slightly harder. He groaned right in your ear as you felt your walls wrap around him, squeezing and clenching. This felt right.

Panting and swearing under his breath, he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you. He kissed your face; all over. You felt a little bold so you hooked your legs around his waist as his thrusts got rougher than the last. You were a moaning mess under him as your hands gripped his arms and shoulder. Your body moved against his like a rag doll. You knew, in your dream that you belonged to him, and him you.

“I love you.” he whispered. He kissed you, bit your skin, kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you; and you never complained once. If anything, you wanted more. You needed him closer. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them around his waist. He growled and bit down on your shoulder as he fucked you. He was relentless, and you liked it.

“I love you so much,” he whispered in your ear, groaning as you tried to meet each one of his thrusts as well. He slammed into you, his hands travelling all over your body, until one of them wrapped around your throat. Your eyes watered as the pleasure became too much to handle; and you felt the pressure forming again. You felt him everywhere, each nerve ending burning and tingling.

You squirmed in pleasure as both his hands gripped your hips, pushing you into him harshly each time he filled you up. A sweet, familiar pain formed again, and you came without any warning; gushing out all over him as he kept slamming into you, chasing his own orgasm.

“Bucky... ” you sounded breathless.

He gasped and snuggled closer to you. His eyes were back to the gentle blue again. “I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ll always be here. I love you, Y/N.”

You wanted to say it back. But then you woke up to a loud boom. You sat up gasping, and looking around frantically. You were sweating, but also cold. The room was dark, unlike the one in your dream earlier, which was illuminated by candlelight. It took you a little while to reorient yourself. The storm was somehow getting more and more loud and violent outside.

And you just had a weird dream about Bucky. Which didn’t feel like a dream, but more like a memory. A memory buried so deep that it almost didn’t feel real.

You were confused. What is the meaning of all this?

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a/n: hi

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #vampire!bucky #marvel au #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you

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hqbbg · 4 years ago

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no regrets.

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader (ft. oikawa)

prompt: "I wonder what he’d do if he knew you were with me right now."

genre: smut with a sprinkle of angst

word count: 7.3K (i’m so sorry, this came out way longer than i intended)

warnings: 18+, slowburn like wow look at that word count, mentions of alcohol, some cheating, fingering, oral (f.receiving), unprotected s3x, aftercare

author’s note: here’s my monthly contribution to the Haikyuu!! Headquarters server collab! here’s the masterlist, so be sure to check everyone else’s works out too! hope you guys enjoy :)

The sunlight seeping in through your bedroom window feels warm on your face as you stir awake. Stretching your arms above your head, you sigh in contentment, satisfied with the quality of sleep you had. You roll over to check your phone, frowning as it fails to turn on, realizing that you’d forgotten to charge it after a call with your boyfriend who’s currently halfway across the world.

Suddenly, a thought strikes you and you scramble out of bed to check the wall clock you have hanging in your apartment’s living room. A loud gasp followed by a curse leaves your lips as you rush to the bathroom to get ready for work.

You’re running late. Again.

Dread spreads through your senses as you quickly go through your morning routine, thinking of all the possible excuses you can offer your boss that won’t result in the loss of your job. As you finish up in the bathroom, you practically run to your room and carelessly throw on a relatively clean white shirt and a pair of pants before rushing out the door. Despite your hectic morning, you’re out the door in record time, locking it behind you. You have half a thought to give yourself a pat on the back. Unfortunately, you just don’t have the time for that right now.

By the time you arrive at work, you’re breathless and visibly frazzled, only slightly annoyed when your coworkers give you suspicious and questioning looks. As you’d expected, your boss hardly greets you before demanding a reason as to why you’re late. You can already tell that today’s going to be a long day, the fact amplified when you realize you’d left your phone charger at home.

When you finally clock out after a particularly long shift, hardly sparing your coworkers a proper goodbye on your way out, you feel momentary relief knowing that you’ve gotten that out of the way. As you step outside, another groan leaves your lips as you look up at the thick and dark clouds overhead. With your phone being dead in combination with being late, you had no idea that rain was in the forecast for today. There were hardly any clouds this morning on your way to work, too! Well, maybe there were, you were just too preoccupied to notice.

You silently plead that the journey home is a dry one, but you should know better than to have hope on a bad day like this.

When you feel the first of many heavy raindrops, you curse under your breath and briefly scan the area to find some shelter, eyes landing on a nearby café. You walk as quickly as you can, avoiding others who either came prepared with their umbrellas or those who, much like you, are rushing to find a place to stay dry.

Pushing the door open, you’re finally able to catch your breath. However, the relief is short lived when someone else opens the door from behind you to get inside, shoving you into another person who was on their way out.

Just as you begin to think the day can’t get any worse, the world clearly has other ideas. You feel it before you see it: the cup of iced coffee spilling onto your shirt and practically freezing your skin as you let out a yelp.

“Oh, shit, are you okay?”

Your head whips up at the oddly familiar voice and you’re surprised to see Iwaizumi Hajime standing before you, looking around frantically to search for napkins to clean you up. If it weren’t for the icy and numbing sensation on your chest, you would’ve been happy to see him.

He takes a couple long strides to the nearest condiment bar and swipes a handful of napkins before rushing back to you. He still hasn’t realized that it’s you standing before him: his best friend’s girlfriend whom he hasn’t seen or spoken to in years.

Wordlessly taking the napkins from him, you peel the shirt away from you while pressing them into the fabric. Though your chin is tucked so you can look at your shirt, you can feel Iwaizumi’s eyes on you.

“Wait, Y/N?”

You lift your head and greet him with an awkward smile.

“Hey,” you lamely respond as you finally give up on your shirt. Your next best option is to get home quickly and throw it into the washer while you take a nice, long shower. Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. The only issue now is finding a way home that doesn’t involve getting drenched by the storm raging outside.

“Wow, it’s been awhile,” says Iwaizumi as he lifts his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “It’s good to see you, but sorry about your shirt.”

“It’s fine, my day’s been pretty bad to begin with,” you sigh. You immediately realize the implications of your statement and feel your eyes widen as you scramble to recover. “I mean, not to say you’ve ruined my day or anything! I just—it’s just been one of those days.”

Iwaizumi offers an apologetic and understanding smile. “I get it, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“Thanks,” you reply gratefully. “I didn’t know you came back from the States.”

“Yeah, I graduated and came back for good a couple months ago,” he says casually. His eyes flicker for a brief moment to the stain on your chest and he quickly shifts his gaze elsewhere, clearing his throat. “Do you, uh, have a jacket or a change of clothes?”

“No, I was running late this morning and my phone’s been dead, so I didn’t get a chance to check the weather or anything,” you reply with a frown. “I’m clearly living my best life right now.”

You half meant it as a joke to lighten the mood, but the frown settling on your former classmate’s face tells you that it was not received that way.

“It doesn’t look like the storm is gonna let up anytime soon,” says Iwaizumi, sensing your concern as you turn your head ever so slightly to check the weather outside. “Do you live far?”

You shake your head, turning back to face him. “No, I’m just a couple more blocks away.”

“If you want, I can walk you home,” he generously offers. “My umbrella isn't that big, but it would get the job done.”

“Oh, you don’t have to!” You’re quick to shake your head, waving your hands out in front of you. “My shirt’s already done for and I can just make a run for it, so it’ll be faster.”

Iwaizumi seems to hesitate, giving you a quick once-over with his eyes. “Okay, well, the least I can do then is offer you my jacket. I did spill my coffee all over you, after all.”

You open your mouth to refuse his kindness, but he’s already shrugging out of the outerwear and holding it up in front of you.

“Take it,” he insists as he locks eyes with you. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You hesitate for a moment and glance down at your shirt to see if you really need it. Your eyes widen slightly when you’re able to see your bra through the damp fabric and the way it sticks to your skin, particularly the valley of your cleavage.

Muttering your gratitude, you’re quick to take it and put it on, feeling dwarfed instantly. You close the jacket and glance out the window again to see what you’re working with before looking back at him.

“Alright, well, I guess I’ll be going now,” you say, getting ready to turn and leave. “Oh, wait.”

You turn back around and Iwaizumi raises a brow.

“How do I get your jacket back to you?”

“Oh, right.” The thought seems to have slipped from Iwaizumi’s mind too. “Uh, here, give me your number. We can find another time and place for you to give it back to me.”

Iwaizumi shuffles and grabs his phone from his pocket, giving it a couple taps before holding it out to you. You thank him and quickly input your contact information, sending a quick text to yourself before handing the device back to him.

“Thanks, Hajime,” you say with a grateful smile. The look on his face is one of surprise and you realize it’s the first time you’ve called him by name today. Actually, since the last time you saw him back in high school. “This time, I’m going for real.”

Iwaizumi recovers quickly enough to give you a nod and a small wave. “Good luck out there.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna need it,” you say, sighing warily as you turn towards the door again. This time, you don’t look back, preparing yourself for the stormy commute that awaits you.

“Sounds like you had a rough day.”

“It was awful, Tooru,” you whine as you pad through your kitchen, trying to figure out what you want to eat for dinner with your phone propped up on one of the kitchen counters. You’re on a video call with Oikawa in your oversized t-shirt and hair wrapped up in a towel, having come freshly out of the shower before this. “Oh! But something interesting did happen earlier.”

You hear your boyfriend hum curiously, urging you to continue.

“I saw Hajime,” you say, inspecting some vegetables in your fridge that have been in there for a suspicious amount of time.

“Oh?” Oikawa sounds as equally surprised as you were earlier. “Wow, how long has it been since you saw him?”

“I haven’t seen him since high school,” you reply as you put the vegetables on the counter next to your phone, seeing Oikawa still laying in bed. “He let me borrow his jacket on my way home to avoid getting my shirt any wetter.”

“Oh, that’s nice of him,” Oikawa responds with less enthusiasm than you’d expected. You thought he’d be more excited to hear that his girlfriend and best friend interacted, but there’s something in his voice that doesn’t necessarily sound right. “He always had a soft spot for you back then, too.”

“Really?” You raise a brow as you return to your fridge. “How so?”

“Well, that’s irrelevant now,” Oikawa says, nonchalantly brushing off the subject. You don’t question things further, more concerned about what to eat for dinner.

You stay on call together for a little longer before Oikawa has to leave for practice, and eventually, you’re left alone in the comforts of your apartment. You still have yet to settle on dinner and migrate to your couch to see if anything looks appetizing on your local food delivery app.

As you mindlessly scroll, you hear your washing machine go off to alert you that your laundry is done. Setting your phone down on your coffee table, you stand and go to transfer the clean clothes into the dryer. As you pull out Iwaizumi’s jacket, you’re reminded that you need to return it soon; there’s no point in keeping it here for too long.

Walking back over to your couch, you plop back down and pick up your phone. This time, you navigate through it to locate Iwaizumi’s name and type up a quick text to ask him for his availability in the next couple of days. He doesn’t respond for several minutes and you return to your relentless search to find something to eat.

Deciding on one of the local fast food restaurants, you place your order and sprawl yourself out over your couch. With roughly twenty minutes before the food arrives, you try to busy yourself on your phone before dejectedly placing it down beside you.

Your phone buzzes with a notification and you lift the screen to see a banner with Iwaizumi’s name on it. Reading over his reply, you find that he’s available on your day off in the next few days. You type up a response to ask him if he’s willing to meet up so you can return his jacket, and this time, he responds quickly with a simple agreement.

After texting him a time and place, you set your phone back down beside you. It’s been so long since you last saw him, it feels strange. You can’t help but think back to your time in high school and the memories you had with him.

Back then, you weren’t the biggest fan of volleyball like the rest of your friends were, so you never really went to the games unless they dragged you along. You recognized some of the boys from your class, though you could hardly remember their names; they were never the ones your friends talked about—they weren’t Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime.

You actually met Iwaizumi before you’d met Oikawa, but that was because you’d bumped into him on your way to the bathroom during one of the games your friends had taken you to. Sure, he didn’t introduce himself or anything, simply muttering an apology before storming off somewhere, but it was still your first memorable interaction with him.

It was one of your friends that got you acquainted with Oikawa sometime later, and after the two of you officially started dating towards the end of your second year, you started seeing Iwaizumi more often. He was slightly intimidating at first, but after some time, you’d come to learn that he was a big softie on the inside—he just didn’t like to show that to other people.

Most of your friends were jealous that you were the lucky girl who somehow caught the popular captain’s eye, so when the two of you had gone on a break in the middle of your third year, no one was really around for you. Except Iwaizumi.

It was neither of your first choices to have him listen to you cry over the phone about Oikawa on a Friday night, but that’s where you’d both ended up. He was terrible at giving advice, but he was a good listener at the very least.

Ever since then, you were more comfortable with him and he seemed to feel the same way. When you got back together with Oikawa, he was less than thrilled to hear the news, but respected your relationship nonetheless. He stopped responding to your texts as much, stopped answering your calls, and by the time you graduated, he barely spoke to you when Oikawa wasn’t around.

To say that it didn’t upset you was a lie; you considered him to be a friend, after all. So, when you had to hear from Oikawa that Iwaizumi left for America for school instead of hearing it from him directly, you were a little hurt. Oikawa had assured you to not take it so personally, telling you “that’s just how he is”. Since then, you’ve moved on with your life and now you’re here.

Your thoughts are interrupted when your phone buzzes and you look to see that your food’s arrived. As you bring it inside, you settle back down on your couch and find something to watch before indulging in your meal. Finally, the day is over.

Thankfully, the rest of your week isn’t too bad. Your day off finally rolls around and you’re waiting patiently inside the café you’d bumped into Iwaizumi at, nursing a cup of hot coffee in your hands. You’d arrived several minutes early, so you’re surprised to see him walking in five minutes before your agreed upon time.

Calling out his name, you raise your arm to wave him over to the table you’re sitting at.

“Hey, you’re here early,” he says as he sits himself down across from you.

“So are you,” you remark, taking a slow sip from your cup.

“Ah, yeah, I was hoping to get some coffee before we met up,” he says, glancing towards the front counter.

“Sure, don’t let me stop you,” you say with a small smile on your face. He nods and excuses himself, leaving you alone at your table.

Your eyes follow his figure, trailing along the broad expanse of his shoulders and back, admiring the way it all tapers at his waist. He’s filled out a lot since high school, and you can tell he’s worked hard to get to where he is now.

When he comes back with his iced coffee in hand, he sits back down in his seat across from you.

“Here’s your jacket,” you say, lifting the paper bag you packed the borrowed clothing in. “Thanks for letting me use it.”

“No problem.” He takes it and there’s a moment of awkward silence.

You can feel his slight discomfort as he shifts a little in his seat, so you decide to break some of the ice. “So, how’ve you been?”

As the conversation progresses, you can feel him slowly opening up and getting more comfortable with you. You come to learn that he’s still in contact with Oikawa, which spurs a shared trip down memory lane.

By the time you start to wrap up your time together, you realize that it’s getting dark outside and check the time. Where had the time gone?

“Wow, we’ve been here awhile.”

Iwaizumi flicks his wrist to check the time and nods. “Yeah, we have. Do you wanna grab dinner?”

You hesitate for a moment. Typically, you call Oikawa around this time, but you figure it doesn’t hurt to not call today. He would understand, right? He knows that you were upset when Iwaizumi practically ghosted you, so he’d understand that you’d want to make up for some lost time, right? Iwaizumi’s his best friend, after all; what would be the harm in hanging out with him for just a little longer?

“Sure, what did you have in mind?”

The two of you settle on a restaurant nearby where you proceed to spend a couple more hours just talking and enjoying each other’s company. You want to ask him why he stopped talking to you in the first place, but you figure that maybe tonight isn’t the best time nor is this the place.

Iwaizumi ends up walking you home, claiming it’s not safe for a girl to be out alone at this hour and that he’d be doing a disservice to you and Oikawa if he let you go off on your own.

“You know, I actually had a lot of fun today,” you say as the both of you stand in front of your door.

“Surprisingly, I did too,” he says with a playful smirk on his lips. He seems much more relaxed than he was several hours ago and part of you is excited to think that things might go back to how they used to be in high school with him.

“Let’s keep in touch more,” you suggest. “It’ll be like high school all over again.”

His lips falter a little, a detail you miss as you turn to unlock your door.

“Anyways, thanks for walking me home,” you say with a smile. “Have a good rest of your night.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” he replies with a nod before turning on his heels to leave. You also step into your apartment and lock the door behind you. Today’s been a good day.

Over the next several weeks, you end up seeing Iwaizumi more often. Whether it’s for a quick coffee or even running errands on your day off, he’s been there to keep you company. When you had told Oikawa about it at first, he was less than thrilled to hear the news, but you figured it was simply because he felt left out.

When you told him that Iwaizumi had come over once to help you carry groceries, he had gotten upset and it led to a small argument that led to the two of you refusing to speak to each other for three days. You didn’t see the harm in spending this much time with Iwaizumi—did Oikawa not trust either of you?

Needless to say, when you started talking again, you felt some tension and decided not to bring up Iwaizumi as much anymore. Part of you felt bad for not giving your boyfriend the whole truth, but he didn’t seem to trust you and you didn’t want to deal with another argument and the possibility that your long-term relationship would end over your friendship with another man.

You decided to keep this from Iwaizumi; you didn’t want him to feel bad in case he blamed himself if something were to go wrong with your relationship. Well, not that you’d think anything would go wrong. You’ve gotten this far in your relationship with Oikawa, and sure, there have been a couple bumps in the road along the way, but you’ve both made it work.

“Oi.” Iwaizumi’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn your head to look at him. You’re currently sitting on his couch in his apartment, having agreed to come over to watch movies.

“Hm?”

“I asked if you wanted something to drink,” he replies from his kitchen. The fridge door is propped open and you think it over for a moment.

“I’ll take anything,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. He returns with two beers in his hands, handing one to you before sitting himself down beside you on the couch.

“What are we watching?”

“I found this movie with one star,” you say as you pull it up on his tv. “It’s going to be terrible.”

“I’m gonna need more drinks for this.” You laugh lightheartedly as the movie begins playing.

The both of you don’t even make it halfway through before searching for another bad movie to make fun of. As Iwaizumi searches on his phone, he gets an alert that the food you two had ordered has arrived and you get up to grab it. When you return, you place the food on the table in front of you and plop down beside him.

You feel your leg brushing his and realize you’ve miscalculated your spacing, but he makes no effort to move away from you. Taking out the food, you hand him his meal and grab your own, settling back comfortably as he sets up another movie.

As the movie drones on and on, the two of you finish your dinners, engaging in your own conversation. You see his eyes on your mouth as you speak and suddenly feel a little self-conscious. Do you have something in your teeth?

“You have a little,” he lifts his finger to point at his own mouth, “something there.”

You wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, but apparently miss as Iwaizumi tells you the food is still there. You wipe at it again, but it seems to be stubborn and Iwaizumi eventually gets frustrated. He lifts his hand to your face and gently brushes the culprit away with his thumb, allowing his digit to trace your bottom lip for a moment.

He seems just as stunned as you are at the soft and intimate gesture, quickly pulling away and turning back to the movie, clearing his throat. You also slowly turn, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen in front of you.

The air feels awkward and heavy and the silence between the two of you is deafening, if not for the movie blabbering on its own. You watch from the side of your eye as Iwaizumi takes a long sip from his beer, knocking the whole thing back until there’s not a drop left. He sets it down and clears his throat.

“Uh, do you want to watch something else?” He doesn’t meet your eyes.

“This is fine,” you reply. “It’s not as bad as the first one, at least.”

You watch the corner of his lip quirk upwards a little. “Yeah, that one was pretty bad.”

The tension in the room seems to ease up a little and he leaves to grab a couple more drinks, taking the trash left from your dinner with him. When he comes back, he sets the bottles down on the table and sits down right where he was, though this time it feels more intentional with his placement by your side.

The movie, although terrible from the start, seems to get increasingly more boring, so you turn to him to start another conversation.

“I have a question,” you say, fidgeting your fingers in your lap. Iwaizumi turns to look at you with a raised brow, wordlessly urging you to continue. “So, you remember back in high school how we were friends and then we weren’t?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Iwaizumi says, nodding slowly. He seems to know where this is going.

“Why did that happen?”

You can practically see Iwaizumi’s thoughts being processed in real time as he weighs the different options he has depending on his response. He opens his mouth to say something, only to close it again.

“Fuck it,” he mutters under his breath before inhaling deeply. “I liked you. A lot.”

The way his eyes lock with yours nearly sends a shiver down your spine, but you chalk it up to the alcohol pulsing through your veins.

“I wanted to ask you out, thought that you might be into me too, but then I heard you got back with Oikawa, so I backed off,” he says. “I know it was a dick move on my end without telling you why, but I figured it was better that way.”

“Did Oikawa know about this?” You have a lot of questions you want to ask, but somehow, this is the one that slips through first.

“Of course he did; he’s my best friend.” Iwaizumi seems a little agitated as he fidgets in his seat.

You try to think of a way to respond. That would explain Oikawa’s attitude towards your renewed friendship with his best friend, though part of you feels conflicted. Could you have possibly harbored feelings for him in return back then? Maybe, but what does it matter now? You’re in a relationship with Oikawa, you shouldn’t even entertain the thought of what if…

“It doesn’t matter now,” says Iwaizumi, pulling you out of your thoughts. “That was the past.”

“If I hadn’t gotten back together with Oikawa, what would you have done?” Your voice is quiet and you know you’re treading dangerous waters right now. The alcohol is definitely not helping with your sense of judgment either.

“I probably would’ve asked you out,” he replies plainly as he shifts his attention to the fabric of his sweats. “If the feelings weren’t returned, well, I don’t see much being different from what ended up happening.”

“What if I said yes?”

Iwaizumi lifts his head and turns to look at you again. You know you should stop now, but now you want to know. To be honest, it’s not like you haven’t thought about dating him in the past; he’s a great guy, and honestly, anyone would be an idiot to turn him down without a really good excuse.

“Y/N, we shouldn’t,” he says slowly. You don’t even realize you’ve been leaning into him until your lips are nearly touching.

“I know,” is all you manage to say before your lips are pressing against his. You feel electrified and realize how touch-starved you’ve been all this time.

Iwaizumi tastes like beer and the musk of his cologne feels overwhelming to your senses. You can’t help but raise your hand to weave through his hair, hardly protesting as his tongue pushes into your mouth. You feel his hands rest on your waist and you slide onto his lap, unable to resist the small roll of your hips against his groin. He lets out a low groan and you can feel him twitch through his pants.

A million red flags and sirens are going off in your head, but you ignore them all, letting your hands slip down to rest on Iwaizumi’s broad and built chest. His own hands slide down the dip of your waist towards your hips and you feel him slowly guide them along the growing hardness between his legs.

Just as your hands begin to wander further, your phone begins to vibrate loudly on the table behind you. It’s as if a bucket of ice water is dumped on you and you pull away rather quickly. Iwaizumi’s hands drop from your side.

Your phone is still buzzing and you slide off of his lap to grab your phone, the weight of guilt beginning to settle in your stomach as Oikawa’s name and a picture of you two flash on the screen.

“I’m gonna go,” you say, standing abruptly, trying not to sway at the headrush.

Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything as you practically run out of there, quickly answering Oikawa’s call before it goes to voicemail. You don’t see the way he buries his face in his hands as he leans forward on his knees.

“Hey, Tooru,” you greet a little breathlessly.

“Hey—are you okay?” His voice is laced with concern and you can only imagine what you sound like right now.

“Yeah, I’m just out right now,” you say. You chew your bottom lip as you begin your walk home, still able to taste Iwaizumi. “Can I actually call you back?”

“Sure, but is everything alright? You sound a little stressed,” he says, voice laced with concern. You feel the tears springing in your eyes as you inhale a shaky breath.

“Yeah, I’ll call you back when I get home, okay?”

Oikawa hesitates, but you’re already hanging up on him. By the time you get back to your apartment, you feel lightheaded. What just happened?

You went a solid three days before breaking under the pressure you’ve placed on yourself. Oikawa was beyond livid and you had cried yourself to sleep that night, telling yourself that he deserved better. You know he does.

He doesn’t answer your call for the rest of the week and you consider simply sending him a long message to express how sorry you are. As you’re about to do so, you receive a text from one of your friends, followed by an apology. With a frown, you open it and see that it’s a link to a gossip website in Argentina. Not really caring for the words, you scowl as you scroll through and see paparazzi photos of Oikawa with a beautiful woman draped on his arm. There are several different photos of the two together in different outfits to imply that they’ve been taken on different days.

It feels like you’ve been punched in the gut when you connect the pieces.

Without even thinking, you simply text Oikawa that your relationship is done and grab your jacket and keys, practically running out the door. You feel blinded with hurt and anger as your legs carry you all the way to a familiar doorstep you haven’t been to in awhile.

The door opens on your third knock and Iwaizumi looks surprised to see you standing there.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Oikawa and I are done,” you say. Hearing yourself say it out loud seems to solidify it as reality and you resist the tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Y/N, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here like this,” he says, sighing warily, before muttering under his breath, "I wonder what he’d do if he knew you were with me right now."

“Hajime,” you say, hands and voice trembling as you pull out your phone, holding it in front of him. He hesitantly takes it from you and you can see his eyes widen for a moment as he scrolls, slowly handing the phone back to you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I just need a distraction right now.” You look up at him with watery eyes before he lets out a sigh, stepping aside so you can come in. Closing the door behind you, he follows you into the living room.

“So, what do you want me to—”

His sentence is cut short when you turn, leaning up to kiss him. Your hands fist his shirt, and you can feel him hesitantly move his lips against yours. You know your way around his apartment enough to begin pulling him into the direction of his bedroom, careful with your steps so you don’t trip or fall.

“Y/N,” Iwaizumi says, pulling away slightly as the backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed. His voice is coarse and his half-lidded eyes are dark. “I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret later.”

“I won’t regret this,” you say softly, looking up into his eyes. He can still see that you have tears in your eyes, but behind that is a sense of lust.

“If at any point you want to stop, tell me, okay?” Iwaizumi lifts a hand to brush your hair away from your face. Your grip on his shirt tightens as you nod.

“Thank you,” you say, before kissing him again. This time, he seems more willing to kiss you back, easing you down until you’re laying on your back on his bed. He hovers over you, kissing along your jaw to your neck. You let out a shaky sigh as his hands slowly stroke your sides. You can feel his hesitancy to touch you more, so you wrap your legs around his torso and grind against him.

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath as one of his hands slip under your shirt. You watch as he leans up slightly to drag your shirt up to your neck, exposing your bra. You sit up just a little so he can help get the fabric completely off, tossing it aside before kissing down your chest to your clothed breasts. His hand comes up to squeeze one and a whimper leaves your lips.

Seriously, when was the last time anyone has touched you like this?

Iwaizumi reaches under you to unhook your bra with seemingly practiced ease and you arch your back up to give him easier access. Peeling the garment off of yourself, this time you’re the one to discard it somewhere on his bedroom floor.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he says before capturing a nipple between his lips. You sigh softly as his tongue flicks the hardening bud, the other being pinched between his thumb and index finger.

He alternates between your breasts for a few more moments before kissing his way down your abdomen. He sets on his knees on the floor, peering up at you.

“Y/N, you sure you wanna do this?”

You nod quickly, suddenly very aware of the heat pooling between your legs.

“I need you to use your words.”

“Yes, please,” you respond.

“Good girl,” he says, lips quirking upwards into the slightest smirk before his fingers hook the waistband of your pants. He easily tugs them down with your panties and you gently kick them off your legs. “Holy fuck.”

The way he eyes your glistening cunt has you blushing and suddenly very aware of your surroundings. Before you can even tell him to stop staring, he leans forward to lick a hot stripe between your slit. A loud gasp echoes around the room as you feel your body instantly react, lifting you head to watch as he leans forward again to bury his face between your legs.

His arms reach under and around your legs, allowing his fingers to hold your lower lips open to reveal your most sensitive bundle of nerves. He gives it a hard suck after flicking it with his tongue and your hand shoots to fist his hair. He groans lowly, allowing the vibrations to further stimulate you.

He dips down a little lower so he can properly taste you, humming in satisfaction with how wet you are. He brings one hand back down and around before pushing a thick finger inside. You let out a loud gasp at the sudden intrusion, though you aren’t complaining. He slowly thrusts it in and out, keeping his eyes on your face to see what you do and don’t like. When he finds that one particular spot within you, he inserts another finger and does his best to hit it again. As your back arches and eyes roll to the back of your head, Iwaizumi can’t help but smirk a little, satisfied with himself.

“Fuck, H-Hajime, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper as he continues his relentless ministrations. Before you know it, your back is arching and toes curling as you finally hit your release.

He lets you ride out the rest of his orgasm on his tongue, relishing in the way your hips buck from the sensitivity. He pulls out his fingers, admiring the way they glisten before pulling away from you completely. You lock eyes with him as he licks his fingers clean and another whimper leaves your lips.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks as he moves to hover over you on the bed.

“More than okay,” you say, unable to resist the dopey smile on your face. Iwaizumi chuckles softly as he combs his dry fingers through your hair. As he does so, you realize that you’re completely naked while he’s fully clothed. With a frown, you sit up and look at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“You still have your clothes on,” you say, turning and climbing over him so you’re straddling his lap. He sits up with a small smile.

“We don’t have to go any further, Y/N,” he says, putting his hands on your hips.

“I want to,” you say as you grind your hips against him much like you had the first night you shared a kiss.

He can see how dark and clouded with lust your eyes are and the raging hard-on in his pants would never forgive him for turning you down.

“Okay,” he says simply. You flash a smile before tugging at the hem of his shirt. He easily pulls it over his head in one fluid motion and you can’t help but lick your lips as he gives you a full view of his toned chest and abdomen. “Like what you see?”

You can feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, not missing the arrogant grin on Iwaizumi’s face. You don’t say anything as you loosen the drawstring of his sweats and he helps pull them down. His cock practically springs out and slaps against his hard stomach and you all but drool at the sight. The angry tip is leaking with precum and you want to get a taste, but Iwaizumi stops you by pressing his lips to yours to capture you in a hungry kiss. You kiss him back and let his tongue push through your lips and you can taste hints of yourself still lingering on his tongue.

“‘M wanna taste you,” you mutter against his lips.

“Next time, baby.” You want to say something back, but his sturdy hands are lifting you by your waist so you’re sitting up on your knees over his lap.

Before you can say anything else, he’s reaching for his weeping cock and positioning it between your legs. You can’t help but whimper softly as you take it upon yourself to lower your hips on him. He feels so big, so thick, and you feel so full despite him not being entirely sheathed within you.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he hisses as he keeps his gaze fixed where your bodies meet. Something about the way he’s disappearing inside of your warmth leaves him a little lightheaded.

“Mm, you’re so big,” you gasp as you finally seat yourself fully on top of him. Iwaizumi feels his chest and ego swell with pride as he looks back up at you. He admires the way your lips are parted, eyes glazed over with pleasure.

He doesn’t rush you as you adjust to the sheer size of him, kissing along your neck and shoulder until you’re ready to move. When you are, you slowly drag your hips up until he’s nearly out of you completely before you drop back down. A loud moan leaves both of your lips and you have to brace yourself on his shoulders as you repeat the process, eventually finding a steady rhythm to follow.

A string of curses mixed with praise leaves his lips as you bury your face into the crook of his neck and shoulder, letting his hands roam and squeeze your ass. As you roll your hips in circular motions, another loud moan leaves him before he holds you and flips you over so you’re on your back.

“Fuck, I almost came too early,” he practically growls, placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth before sitting up.

You let out a soft giggle until he grabs one of your legs, tossing it over his shoulder. This new angle has him hitting a different spot inside of you and you feel your walls clench around him as he drags himself back out only to thrust right back in.

“Shit,” he hisses as he feels you flutter around him. “You look so pretty like this, fucked out on my cock.”

His thrusts are deep and precise as one hand presses against your lower abdomen while the other holds your leg. He presses a kiss to your ankle as you practically chant his name, feeling close to another orgasm. He seems to notice this too, losing some of his rhythm as the hand on your abdomen moves lower to rub harsh circles against your clit.

Just like that, it feels like the tightly wound coil in your belly snaps and your back arches off the bed as you reach your climax. Iwaizumi’s not far behind, pulling out and roughly jerking his throbbing cock until thick white ropes of cum decorate your chest and stomach.

The room fills with sounds of both of you breathing heavily and Iwaizumi flops onto his back next to you.

“Wow,” he says breathlessly, turning his head to look at you.

“Wow,” you parrot back, unable to resist the smile pulling at your lips. He tiredly smiles back for a moment before his eyes flit towards the mess he’s made all over you.

“Sorry for the mess.”

“It’s fine,” you tiredly shake your head. With the roller coaster you’ve been on these past several days and the physical exertion, you feel the exhaustion finally hitting you.

Your eyelids feel heavy and you barely see Iwaizumi get up from the bed and disappear for a moment. The sound of clothes shuffling and the sink running tells you that he’s cleaning up and in a few more moments, you feel a warm and damp towel wiping your body. You hum softly at the pleasant feeling, still riding the tail end of your orgasm as you open your eyes to see him wiping you of your sweat and his cum.

“I don’t regret anything,” you say as you feel Iwaizumi pull away.

“We can talk more in the morning,” he says softly as he places a kiss to the top of your head. You sleepily watch him as he disappears again and hear him running a bath.

He returns shortly after and easily scoops you up in his strong arms. You cling to him and let him slowly lower you into the warm water. He gestures for you to scoot forward a little bit so that he can slide in behind you, filling up the small space even more.

As you lean back and let him press soft kisses along your neck, your phone lays discarded on the floor, buzzing with another call from your now ex-boyfriend. That’ll just have to go on the list of things to figure out in the morning.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi smut #hrnybbg

836 notes · View notes

samstree · 4 years ago

Text

Hug a Witcher Day (4/4)

In which Geralt makes plans, but everything goes wrong.

(geraskier, 4.7k, hurt/comfort, sick jaskier, love confessions, first kiss, second kiss, cuddling, geralt talks about his feelings!)

This story ends here. Remember to give your local witchers a hug!

AO3, previous: [1] [2] [3]

Loving someone is unbearable, Geralt has recently realized.

In the big medical camp, when they can only sleep with hundreds of healers and patients in one big room, their single beds are arranged next to each other in parallel. The night renders the place pitch dark and Geralt is the only one still capable of seeing anything.

Geralt watches Jaskier drift off the moment his head hits the pillow, his breathing calm and his heart slowing.

The bard is tired, but he’s safe.

Geralt watches for a few more moments longer and, gradually, a warm pool of fuzziness begins to gather in his stomach again. He revels in it, in the feeling of loving Jaskier.

He reaches out a hand towards the bard and stops at the edge of the bed, a mere foot away from Jaskier’s sleeping form. The steady rhythm of Jaskier’s human heart lulls Geralt into oblivion but his hand remains there, so close and yet so far away.

That’s how Jaskier wakes Geralt in the morning, with a brush of knuckles, a gentle squeeze on his wrist and a soft, bleary smile. His brown hair is sleep-rumpled and there’s a long pillow crease on his cheek, and Geralt almost blurts it out on the spot.

Loving someone is unbearable.

Loving someone while not telling them is even worse.

But Geralt will tell Jaskier one day. A witcher can’t afford to be a coward. He didn’t get through the worst trials only to be intimidated by a simple human bard. No, the reason he can’t voice those three words is only…bad timing. Jaskier has been through too much in the span of just a few seasons, and yet his smiles are still flowing with patience; he persists with the gentleness that is so distinctly Jaskier .

Geralt won’t weigh Jaskier down, not until they can pack their bags and leave this city.

And they do.

The end of summer brings the first chill in the air, and Geralt finally leads Roach out of the gates of Vizima. Jaskier follows not far behind with the lute on his back and a spring in his steps.

It all feels like a dream when Geralt remembers being cooped up in one place and isolated from the world, but he walks out of the city as a new man. The love flowing through his veins is the tangible proof of his change of heart.

“Roach must be dying to stretch her legs, don’t you think?” the bard offers when Geralt mounts the mare, her gait anxious.

“Catch up to me?” Geralt asks.

“Always.”

The corners of Jaskier’s eyes crinkle and the sun spills down his hair and threads it with gold. With a gentle nudge, the mare takes off eagerly. The bard’s silhouette grows more distant and Geralt gives up on hiding the lovestruck grin on his face.

For a long time, Geralt anticipates he will tell Jaskier in the most dramatic, world-ending way.

After all, the bard does everything so dramatically and world-endingly that anything related to him should deserve the same treatment. Geralt reckons even if he tries to keep it down, Jaskier will find a way to make it the grandest scene there is.

Geralt thinks about doing it in Dol Blathanna, a poetic symmetry to their first meeting that the bard will certainly wax poetic about. The idea churns for two days and suddenly he realizes how terrible it is. The fall will soon render the valley of flowers barren and they’ll just be standing on rocky ground.

So Geralt turns his eyes to the north, where Kaer Morhen must be hiding behind the mountains. Within the walls of the ancient keep, there’s a tower just next to their training yard that he has spent so many sleepless nights in. Standing on top of that tower and watching the stars and northern lights might be the rare moments when he’s truly at peace. It’s when he’s at home.

He silently decides on taking Jaskier home for the winter.

“Why are you taking us this far north, Geralt? Urgh, and why do you have to push me like this? You truly have no pity for me.”

The bard sits on his bedroll and rubs at his eyes at dawn, his face scrunched up with displeasure.

“Hmm.”

In his mind’s eye, Geralt can almost see Jaskier’s face when he steps into Kaer Morhen for the first time, the bard raving about all the songs the ancient keep could inspire and exploring the place with wonderment. He can see the way Jaskier’s eyes would light up under the night sky at the sight of those colorful lights, awestruck and gleaming.

If Geralt was any other man, he would be giddy with anticipation.

And perhaps, that’s why he doesn’t see it when sickness creeps up on Jaskier in the most unexpected way.

Surviving a terrible plague and falling ill right after sounds way too anticlimactic. Jaskier would be disappointed in a twist like this if it’s in a story. It never even crosses Geralt’s mind that Jaskier’s increased complaining is a result of discomfort, of months’ exhaustion silently building up. It never occurs to him that Jaskier, now with his waist and shoulders thinner, might need to take more breaks on the road and wear more layers on harsher days.

An autumn storm catches them off guard and that’s all it takes.

“You got lucky. There’s only one room left.” The man behind the desk throws a pitying look at the bard, dripping on the creaky floor and swaying on his feet. “The rest are all booked for the festival.”

Geralt pays no mind to his remarks. His world narrows down to getting Jaskier into a warm room and stripping him of these wet clothes. He has no choice but to replace them with one of Geralt’s dark shirts—the bard has never been good at keeping his pack dry.

Now Jaskier is shivering under the covers and groaning like a dying animal. His hair is damp from the residual rain and cold sweat, his frame drowning in the too-large tunic.

“Can you light the fire, Geralt?” Jaskier asks through chattering teeth. The blanket is slipping from his shoulders, the open collar exposing a patch of skin and sending a chill down his body. Geralt wraps the blanket tighter around him and looks puzzled at the roaring flame in the hearth.

“It is on. Can’t you see it?” Geralt frowns, confused.

Jaskier’s eyes focus on somewhere far away. The dazed expression lingers for way too long before his head turns to the fireplace. “Oh.”

The worry in Geralt’s stomach grows heavier. He feels for Jaskier’s forehead and lets out a curse when his palm meets burning skin.

“You are feverish.” Geralt continues to wipe away the sweat gathering at the bard’s hairline. “Damn it, Jaskier. Why didn’t you say something?”

The bard leans into Geralt’s cooler touch instinctively. “Well, if you learned one thing about bards, Geralt, you should know that we can’t predict the weather.”

“No.” Frustration seeps into Geralt’s voice. He lets out a scowl. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? You must have been feeling terrible for days if you have a fever like this. Jaskier…”

Geralt breathes out his name and finds anger rising, but not towards the bard. He’s angry with himself, for neglecting Jaskier’s comfort in favor of furthering his stupid plan, for not seeing what’s right in front of him. Jaskier staggering on his feet in the pouring rain stirred up some old fear in Geralt, the fear that hasn’t left him since the day he stepped into Oxenfurt in the spring.

“I guess it didn’t even cross my mind,” Jaskier explains, his voice small and unsure. “We just survived something unimaginable, my dear. I was so excited to go out again. It’s you and—”

Jaskier is rudely interrupted by a coughing fit. The violent wheezing wracks his lungs, causing him to fall forward in a struggle. Geralt catches his limp body in a frenzy and Jaskier ends up with his forehead on Geralt’s shoulder to ride it out, his too-warm breaths fanning over the skin of Geralt’s skin.

“It’s you and me against the world,” Jaskier finally croaks as Geralt helps him sit against the pillows. “All the adventures we missed, think about them. I was just…excited.”

Geralt finds himself kneeling on the bed and a hand’s breadth away from Jaskier’s face, his cheeks worryingly flushed. He looks down to adjust the blanket again to make sure the bard is completely bundled up.

“Excited? And you couldn’t even tell you were sick?”

At least the bard is looking contrite.

“I thought I was just out of shape, with all the pain in my joints and my back. Ugh.” Jaskier squirms in the sea of pillows, adjusting to find better support. “I suppose you don’t have anything for it? A whole bag of witcher potions and none for humans—”

“I—” Geralt splutters. “I’ll, um, get you some willow bark. And a sleeping draught.”

He gets off the bed in one swift motion and works under Jaskier’s curious gaze. The bard is entranced by Geralt’s movement as he boils the water and prepares the tea that he’s been carrying around and replenishing for years.

Blue eyes remain inscrutable as Geralt strains out the shredded bark and scoops a spoonful of honey in the steaming water. He brings the cup to Jaskier’s bed as well as a tincture of sleeping potion.

The bard lets go of the blanket in favor of the cup. He takes a sip and lets out a soft sigh. The honey should be soothing his throat, and it counters the bitterness of the willow bark as well. Geralt leaves him to finish the tea and goes to retrieve his cloak. The thick garment is now completely dry and toasty thanks to the fire, so he gathers it and puts it over Jaskier’s lap.

The bard hands Geralt the empty cup, uncorks the tincture, and downs the greenish liquid.

“ Urgh. Why do all sleeping draughts taste so dreadful?” He grimaces, sticking out his tongue. “Should’ve saved some of the honey.”

“You need more?”

Geralt is ready to fish out the jar again but a hand resting on his elbow stops him.

“Don’t waste it, Geralt. I know how much honey costs.”

“It’s not a waste,” Geralt insists.

Geralt sinks back down into the mattress and suddenly Jaskier’s palm on his arm is burning a hole into his bones, and it’s not because of the fever.

“Because you bought it for me?” Jaskier’s gaze grows intense, the question phrased like a statement, like the bard has never been more sure of anything else. “You keep a jar of honey in your pack and only put it in our water after I sing for a whole night. You carry fresh willow bark for my headache—gods know it’s too weak for your metabolism. You have sleeping potions for humans.”

All statements should feel accusatory, but something is brewing like a storm under Jaskier’s unwavering eyes.

Geralt’s ears heat up in the too-warm room. He wants to get as far away from Jaskier as possible to avoid feeling so exposed. It’s almost like Jaskier has stripped him bare and left his heart in the open.

“It’s nothing.”

And that’s the wrong thing to say.

“What? No.” Distress overtakes those blue eyes. “Geralt, you take care of me. You have been taking care of me for years. How can it be nothing? Even just in Vizima, you stayed for me and you were there for me—”

“I wouldn’t just leave you there, Jask.” Geralt says defensively. The bard truly is burning with a mad fever if he thinks Geralt could ever leave him.

A sad smile spreads across Jaskier’s face.

“I know. And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” he answers, half to himself, which makes Geralt all the more confused. He covers Jaskier’s hand resting on his arm and squeezes gently for the bard to continue.

“It’s been three years, Geralt. It’s been three years since that night. Do you still remember? It was the night before we had to part for the winter, and it was so cold. I couldn’t even get my teeth to stop chattering and you insulted my choice of wear, as you do.” The bard rolls his eyes. “I fell asleep in shivers and woke up warm with all my toes still intact. Miraculously.”

Jaskier slips his hand out of Geralt’s before threading their fingers together, his other hand running up and down the cloak on his lap. “You had given me your cloak during the night so I wouldn’t freeze. And when I turned around, you were just…there. Lying on your bedrolls, cloakless, sleeping, and so far away.”

Geralt stares at Jaskier’s dazed expression and the melancholy at the corners of his mouth and senses his languid heartbeat pick up. He remembers that night, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. Why Jaskier thinks it was anything of significance is baffling.

“That was the moment for me. That morning, right before we parted for a whole season, was when it hit me. I—Geralt, I wanted to tell you then, but I was too much of a coward, so I sent you away without knowing.”

Tell me what?

The question dies in Geralt’s throat. Instead, habit compels him to deflect. “But you were cold.”

Jaskier’s eyes are gleaming in the warm candlelight, wide and earnest.

“It’s what you do, Geralt. You save me from monsters and rude patrons. You tolerate my faults and you compel me to do better. You traveled across the continent to see me safe, and you stayed. You stayed .” Jaskier is on the verge of tears, and Geralt wishes more than anything in the world to erase that dejected look on his face. “My white wolf. My protector. I—I had nothing to thank you for, except for my songs. So I wrote the song, thinking I could show you that way.”

The fire crackles and Geralt asks dumbly.

“What song?”

Jaskier holds his gaze and hums the too-familiar tune of Hug a Witcher, his voice breaking from time to time, growing hoarse by the end. Geralt is pinned to the spot, unable to form words.

“I got the whole continent to do it for me, didn’t I?” Jaskier chuckles tightly but his usual smugness is nowhere to be seen. “But, you see, the whole continent gets to hug you for a day. They’ll get to show you their appreciation. But not me. What a wonderful plan! I guess that’s the price for being selfish, for wanting an excuse to—just to…”

Jaskier trails off, his fingers limp in Geralt’s hand. The silence hangs too heavily as Geralt lets the thunderstruck realization sink in.

As if Geralt has ever cared about what everyone else thinks of him. As if he ever wanted everyone else’s arms around him. Jaskier can never be selfish when it comes to Geralt, never when it counts. He’s being such a fool for assuming and Geralt lets out a frustrated growl.

The bard flinches, and retreats, pulling his legs towards his chest to appear as small as possible. His curled-up form is so small that it looks wrong. Jaskier should take up all the space in the world.

“No,” Geralt corrects him desperately. “No. You are not selfish, Jaskier. You’ve done nothing wrong by me in this—”

“I’ve brought nothing but trouble to your side. The song, the plague…I’ve worried you, and now I’ve burdened you. I—” Jaskier’s gaze darts all over the place, heedless of Geralt’s protest. The delirium is muddling his mind. Geralt panics and wraps Jaskier’s chin in his palm, desperately trying to anchor his bard.

“Jaskier—”

“Will you leave?” There’s old fear in the question. “Am I going to be cold and alone again?”

It must be the fever. Added with the ordeal of the past year, it’s bringing back memories of childhood, of painful days confined to a bed and struggling for survival. He needs to reassure Jaskier, to erase the lost expression on Jaskier’s face.

In a frenzy, he ends up doing it by pressing his lips to Jaskier’s.

The kiss is a hot and urgent thing and it’s over in a second. The bitter taste of the sleeping potion lingers. Geralt breathes into the space between them, his palm still caressing Jaskier’s cheek. A tear rolls down and Geralt catches it with the pad of his thumb.

Blue eyes refocus, piercing Geralt’s soul.

“Geralt?” he breathes.

The name comes out so reverent that Geralt is sure that his heart will burst. Gods, he loves Jaskier.

“I love you.”

A soft gasp escapes Jaskier’s lips.

“Can you hear me now?” Geralt’s thumb continues to trace small circles on Jaskier’s skin. “Can you hear when I say that, Jaskier, you are not a burden? You are not trouble that I have to deal with. You are not selfish for staying and you will never be alone again, not if I ever have a say in it.”

Jaskier’s limbs unfurl, his arms gradually stretching out from the tight hold over his knees.

"I never wanted to tell you like this. I shouldn’t. Not like this.” Geralt sinks into the presence of his bard and presses their foreheads together. Jaskier stays painstakingly silent and a pang of fear hits Geralt. “Shit, Jask. You don’t need to say anything. I shouldn’t have done it when you are still sick. You know what, forget about—”

“You love me?” Jaskier whispers, his voice so small that anyone but a witcher would have missed it.

“I love you.” Geralt pulls away to stare into the stormy blue of Jaskier’s eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. For longer than I know, Jask. I made so many plans for this moment. I wanted it to be perfect for you. But now, I…I just need you to know.”

He just needs to make it better, make Jaskier better. All the plans are nothing but useless, his fear of rejection too. The sight of Jaskier in pain is enough to chuck every worry out the window. Even if his love is not returned, even if a witcher can never have it returned.

But with a heartbeat and the next, Jaskier has thrown himself into Geralt’s embrace, nearly knocking the breath out of him. And, as if in a fantasy, Jaskier’s lips are everywhere, peppering small, wet kisses all over his face.

“You are perfect for me, you oaf.” A smile finally blossoms on Jaskier’s face and their lips meet again.

The second time Geralt ever kisses Jaskier, it feels like coming home. It’s a drawn-out and lazy dance that lulls him into dreamland, only the dream has come true in the solid form of Jaskier’s supple lips against his and nimble fingers carding through his hair. The bard lets out a string of adorable giggles as he climbs onto Geralt’s bent knees and straddles him, the cloak and blanket shoved out of their way.

Geralt is falling.

And soaring.

“Hey, steady.” he keeps both hands on the small of Jaskier’s back to keep him in place.

The weight of Jaskier is heavenly, and the unlaced collar of Geralt’s shirt provides the best opening for him to slowly suck at the junction between Jaskier’s shoulder and neck. The bard ends up a whimpering, limp mess, draped all over Geralt’s shoulder with a shudder running down his spine.

“Do you even know how easy it is for you to ruin me?” Jaskier murmurs breathily in Geralt’s ear. All he can muster for response is another growl.

When Geralt gently lowers Jaskier down onto the pillows again, the bard looks a fine picture of debauchery, with a beet-red flush painted across his cheeks and patches of reddened skin at his neck that will surely bloom into dark bruises. His hair is sticking in all directions and the shirt slips down from one shoulder, his chest heaving from the exertion.

Tears well up in cornflower blue eyes again but this time it’s not from pain. All Geralt can smell is the heady pleasure that is equally affecting him.

“I’m afraid your sleeping potion has kicked in,” Jaskier yawns just in time. “It’s the good stuff, my dear. You spoil me.”

The bard blinks his eyes open stubbornly as Geralt fishes the blanket up from the floor and then the cloak.

“I’ll spoil you more when you get better.”

“Big witcher with bigger promises.” Jaskier is slurring his words but the smile on his face can match the bright afternoon sun.

Geralt curls around Jaskier’s body and drapes the blanket over both of them, the cloak tucked where chill might creep in during the night. When he pulls Jaskier closer, the bard tucks his head under Geralt’s chin and nuzzles ever so slightly.

The urge to kiss is overwhelming, and Geralt realizes that he can.

“Goodnight, Jask.”

His lips touch Jaskier’s eyelid and the bard is out in the next second. There’s still a faint smile on his lips.

Geralt wakes up like this, with Jaskier sprawled on top of him and snoring softly. He brushes back the hair at the bard’s forehead and feels for his temperature. The fever is still running low but it will be gone in a day or so. Sighing with relief, Geralt revels in the sensation of the rhythmic thrumming of Jaskier’s heart against his ribcage.

His attention drifts to what woke him in the first place. A group of men seems to be yelling on the street right under their window. Geralt only catches a few words in the distinct conversation, but from the looks of it they are arguing about…building a stage somewhere.

And then, the word Saovine stands out.

If they are already building the stage for the performance, and the tavern has been booked up by travelers… Geralt does the math in his head and almost feels giddy when it dawns on him—

It’s today.

It’s Hug a Witcher Day.

The thought doesn’t leave him with the agonizing emptiness that is Jaskier’s absence anymore. Instead, Geralt feels like he’s floating mid-air among the clouds and he may never come down again. He might as well not, since Jaskier won’t be going anywhere any time soon.

He hides a goofy grin in tousled brown hair.

One of the men hammers down on something and Jaskier stirs, inhaling deep and then groaning loud. He arches away from Geralt’s chest with a low growling whine—the fever must still be hurting his back and joints. Geralt untangles their limbs and rests his palm flush against the bard’s lower back where it seems to bother him. He kneads gently, massaging the soreness away. Jaskier lets out an exaggerated moan, his face buried in the pillow to muffle the sound.

“It wasn’t a dream.”

When Jaskier speaks, his voice vibrates deep and nasally from sleep, and it makes something warm gather in Geralt’s stomach. He pushes up the hem of the shirt on Jaskier and places a kiss on the side of his waist before lying down again, face to face with the bard.

“It wasn’t.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier mirrors one of Geralt’s many hums and looks up blearily through drooping lashes, his smile content and his blush healthier. The bard boops his nose. “What are you grinning at?”

“It’s my day.”

“What day?” The furrow between Jaskier’s brows is too adorable and Geralt is too smitten with it. Eventually, the bard catches on. “ Oh .”

He then scoots closer to tuck a strand of hair behind Geralt’s ear. Excitement sparks in his eyes.

“Can I?” Jaskier asks as if they didn’t just spend a whole night snuggled against each other, as if Geralt hasn’t been ready to say yes since three Hug a Witcher Days ago.

“Yes.”

With that permission, Geralt finds himself on his back with an armful of bard. Jaskier is hugging him so tightly that even a witcher can barely breathe.

“For luck, right?” the bard says into his neck and flings a leg over Geralt’s hip, putting his entire weight into the embrace. “Only the gods know I’ll be needing some for next year.”

“No more scaring me like this.” Geralt mutters half to himself as he runs his fingers through Jaskier’s hair and pulls him even closer. It’s a near-impossible endeavor since he’s already crushed between the mattress and the too eager bard.

“No more,” Jaskier agrees and rubs his nose into the silver hair pooling on the pillow, humming with buzzing pleasure. “And who would have thought? Destiny can be cruel just as she is kind. It’s today, of all days...”

“Hmm. Who would have thought…”

Geralt inhales the scent of Jaskier, now the sour stench of misery only faint. In its place is the happiness that reminds him of the afternoon sun baked into fresh linens.

“And to think I forgot to tell you yesterday. The most renowned poet on this continent forgot to profess his love. How embarrassing!”

Geralt snorts, but in truth, he doesn’t even care anymore. Jaskier being here, in the safety of his arms and recovering from the ordeal of the past year is more than enough. He can live with the knowledge that Jaskier knows that he is loved. He is loved so deeply by someone who was told his whole life to be incapable of it. Now that Geralt is on the other side, the idea of ever not loving Jaskier becomes an unthinkable thing. It’s like not loving the sun or the earth or—

“You’re thinking sappy things.” The bard looks up and the mirth in his eyes disappears. “And probably bad things about yourself. After all these years, after so many songs and so many scrapes and bruises, you still doubt it. Oh, Geralt. Can’t you see? I wrote Hug a Witcher because I didn’t know how to tell you that I love you. To be fair, I wrote every song for the same reason, but this one…I needed you to feel loved, darling, even if it’s not by me.”

So he got the whole continent to do it for him and dragged every other witcher down with it. Geralt should be appalled by the length of theatrics the bard is willing to go if he doesn’t somehow find it the most endearing thing in the world.

“A love letter. Delivered by everyone but you,” Geralt adds.

“Is it to your satisfaction?” Jaskier purses his lips sheepishly. A sheepish Jaskier is such a rare occurrence that Geralt can’t look away. “My white wolf. My protector.”

Geralt takes Jaskier’s wrist and guides it to his chest, placing his palm right over the slow rhythm of his heart. “That’s one thing we have in common, isn’t it? You protect me too. You guard my heart and my name. You use your strength but not for violence but love. If destiny has ever given me one blessing, Jaskier, it would be you. And you are asking if I’m satisfied...”

Geralt puts the answer in the kiss he presses on Jaskier’s forehead with all the gentleness he can muster. It must be the one-millionth time he’s kissed Jaskier because he can no longer remember not being allowed to kiss Jaskier feels like.

“So, Hug a Witcher Day, eh?” Jaskier springs up with renewed vigor, so fast Geralt amazes that he isn’t getting dizzy. “How should we celebrate?”

Geralt looks at his bard, surrounded by his clothing and his love, basked in the shimmering morning light.

“I believe it’s in the name.” he challenges, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, honey. You know I won’t let you go for the rest of the day, right?” the bard smirks with mischief. “But first, if I remember it correctly, didn’t you say that you had some…plans for your grand love confession?”

Geralt blinks. “Are you always this incorrigible?”

“Duh!” Jaskier shrugs, offended. “Oh, come on! I promise I won’t make fun of you! And I’m sure I can make at least one ballad out of your plotting, my darling witcher. With how much of a sap you are, a whole romance book if I put my mind to it!”

“I won’t give you the chance to make fun of me for the rest of time, bard.”

“But I’m sick.” Jaskier bats his lashes. “It will make me feel better. Won’t you indulge me?”

Geralt cannot believe the bard is already playing this card. What’s worse is that he knows his resolve will break very soon.

It’s Hug a Witcher Day after all, and Geralt finally, finally gets to have the one person he wants the most in his arms. If a little bit of embarrassment is the price for it, he can’t say that he minds that much.

---

Geralt gets lots of hugs. Jaskier gets to tease him endlessly. And I can start new wips!

I was torn between two different ways to end this story and finally settled on this more conventional one. I’ll be putting up the alternative ending soon ;)

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @birdsflyhome @dapandapod @artisanbaguette

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #cuddling #snuggling #hugs and kisses!#sick jaskier #jaskier gets sick but it's unrelated to the plague #jaskier whump #protective geralt #love confessions #first kiss #second kiss #geralt of rivia is a sap #this should be a tag #the other ending is very silly #so very silly

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jonnyparable · 3 years ago

Text

Cottage Hills : A Winter Tale, Part V

Unlikely Inn Mates

Just as Gotz had predicted, the blizzard will soon sweep into town. The town slowly turns white, and the sky takes on a gloomy hue. The snow covered Hollyhock Inn stands proudly amidst the flurry of white. A Cottage Hills landmark, and one of the largest buildings in the village, the Inn looks like a giant iced gingerbread house in the powdery snow.

At it's entrance, Greg the fisherman is coming by to drop off the Inn's weekly order. He hears snow crunching behind him and turns to see Wally running past, huffing and puffing .

Greg:

"Morning, Wally! Well, where are you off to in such a hurry?"

Wally:

"Hello Greg! I'm running back to my farm to put the animals away! A blizzard is coming, you better get indoors quick!"

Greg, an old seadog, looks up and recognises the tell-tale signs of a coming storm. He quickly heads inside, and the fire is roaring. Ann comes out from behind the counter and greets him.

Ann:

"Morning Greg! I was just about to go lend you a hand with those crates. What do you have for us today?"

Greg:

"I got some lobsters for ya today! Mineral Lake Blue Lobsters are the best for making Lobster Thermidor. Doug's specialty! Where is he anyway, looks like a storm's coming."

Ann:

"Dad went to the train station to send Louis off, I think he should be back soon... Wow you're right.... Would you look at this weather! Greg you better get going!"

Just as Greg is about to leave, Gourmand and Contestina arrive at the inn, standing in the doorway, blocking Greg's way and noisily brushing the snow off themselves, and loudly commiserating about the dreadful weather.

Contestina :

"Oh Miseria!! Gourmando, what a terrible weather to be driving with the top down! I am so 🎶CooOoolldd🎶. Ah! But this charming inn has such a lovely fire! 🎶Fuegora simpi adoramissimo!!! Like de Firrre within my heeaaarrt!! 🎶"

Gourmand :

"I am so sorry, Madame! How quickly the weather changed! Hello! I say! Hello there! Where is the innkeeper?"

Ann:

"Hello Madam, Mr Swindleton! Can I help you?"

Contestina :

"Hello, there you are! Are you the owner of this lovely little inn? Surely you have all my luggage prepared, and your best suite warmed and ready? I would like a room with a balcony, overlooking the fields, and shall want to change into my mid-morning outfit right away! Followed by your best breakfast!"

Ann:

"Umm... Yes.. Luggage? Will you be staying with us then? Our beds are all taken at the moment... If you would like to share a room, however..."

Gourmand:

"Good heavens! My dear girl! This is the famous Contestina Divadonna! Share a room? What a scandal that will be! We insist that she have a room all to herself! Go make the arrangements immediately! And where is her blasted luggage?"

Contestina :

"My dresses! My jewels! I can hear them calling to me! Where are my beautiful babies?? GOURMANDO! Hold me, I feel faint!"

Outside, as the sky darkens even more, and as the snow is whipped up into a frenzy of white, the sound of tyres crunching snow in the driveway can be heard through the howl of the wind. Doug has returned with Contestina's suitcases, having helped Stu to carry it all onto his truck.

Doug :

"Its a good thing we were both there, thanks Stu for the help, looks like the weather is getting worse, you better stay at the inn for today and have some hot meals, on the house!"

Stu:

"Happy to help, Mr H! Come on, let's get these inside!"

Meanwhile, inside, Cliff, one of the inn's tenants, who was just on his way down for coffee, hears the commotion and thinking on the spot, runs over to try and help the hapless Ann as she struggles to understand what is going on.

Cliff:

"Ah! Madame, I have just finished cleaning your room, and will have it ready for you soon, after we bring up your luggage for you! Why don't you... Uh... have a seat and Ill get you some... Some... coffee!"

Ann:

"Coffee, for our two esteemed guests, coming right up!

Ann pulls Cliff to one side.

Ann:

"Cliff! What do you think you're doing??"

Cliff:

"You looked like you needed help... Anyway she can just have my room, Ann, don't worry!"

Ann:

"Cliff! What? No, what about-"

Just then, Doug and Stu burst through the front door, and heap the luggage in as snow rushes in through the open door. Cliff rushes over to give them a hand.

Contestina :

"Ahh my beautiful luggage! Adora! Thank you, gentlemen, my heroes! Saviors! My knights that are in the shiny armours!"

Suddenly the room darkens, as if its night, and they rush to the windows to see that the blizzard has fully descended upon the town. It'll be too dangerous for any of them to leave now, so it looks like they will be staying together for some time. Possibly a few days.

Doug:

"Well, looks like the blizzard is in full swing now. This is the worst blizzard we've seen in decades! There's no going out now! Come on Stu, I'll get you that meal. Ah Greg, you're here too! Why don't you go sit with Duke over the at the bar. He's been here since last night.... again. You know what to do."

Doug cocks his head over to the bar, where Duke has been sleeping all this time, on the counter. Greg shakes his head and walks over. Suddenly, a blood curdling shriek rocks the inn, stunning everyone.

Contestina :

"Le BLIZZARRRRO!?!? A BLIZZARD!? NO! OHHHH 🎶SOMEBODY CATCHA ME!"

Contestina dramatically falls backwards but Cliff leaps over her luggage to catch her just in time.

Cliff:

"I've got you madame! Ooof! Somebody, help??"

#the sims 2 #ts2 pictures #ts2 screenshots #ts2 neighborhood #ts2 scenery #sims 2 #cottage hills #sims 2 simblr #harvest moon tree of life

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heliads · 4 years ago

Text

What We Are

You’ve hated Draco Malfoy from the moment you met him at the Sorting Ceremony all those years ago. However, you have the strangest feeling that things are changing between the two of you- like just maybe, you like him more than you thought.

masterlist

You are eleven years old, small and swallowed up by the dark cloth of your school robes. You’re filling through the main aisle of the Great Hall, surrounded by a cluster of other anxious first years. Four long tables stretch down the room, two on each side of the hall and each filled with chattering students. Four banners hang at the end of the hall- ruby, emerald, gold, sapphire. One for each house. You’ve been briefed on the houses and their qualities by a newly formed friend, one Hermione Granger, but you’re still nervous. You don’t entirely know which one you belong to, although you have an inkling as to which one should be avoided.

Professor McGonagall begins listing off the names one at a time, and the subsequent first-years file up to her, place the worn Sorting Hat on their head, and receive their assigned House. After a while, your name is eventually called, and you make your way to the front. The Sorting Hat considers for a time, then a smile crawls across its weathered fabric features. “SLYTHERIN!” The word is shouted across the hall, and you feel a sinking pit yawn open in your stomach. Slytherin? That was the one house you were supposed to avoid.

You make brief eye contact with your new friend Hermione, who looks about as stricken as you feel, before settling into a place at the Slytherin table. The emerald-clad students around you clap you on the back, issuing congratulations, but you still feel uneasy. Wouldn’t it have been better to go to Ravenclaw, where all the smartest students belonged? Or brave Gryffindor, or dedicated Hufflepuff? Anywhere would be better than ambitious, cunning, snakelike Slytherin.

A boy seated one space down looks at you, taking in your glum expression. He has striking platinum blond hair, and appears to be a first year just like yourself. “Don’t look so upset. You got into the best house there is, you know. All of the students who go to Slytherin end up being the greatest lot here.” For some reason, the condescendingly arrogant tone of the boy gets to you, and you shoot back a haughty reply. “If all Slytherin students are like you, I don’t fancy staying here at all.” The boy’s expression changes into a glare, and he glowers at you for the rest of the dinner.

That boy would turn out to be Draco Malfoy, Slytherin House’s most famous elitist. The two of you would hate each other ever since that night, and that feeling of utter loathing would continue for years. You’re now far older than you had been as a wee little first year, and so is Draco, but your attitude towards him hasn’t changed a bit. He’s just so conceited, so full of himself- and you’re no better, you know that, but at least you try to hide it.

However, you were lucky enough to score yourself a bunch of friends who knew exactly why you hated Draco, and happened to feel the exact same way. Hermione had been your best friend ever since that first day on the Hogwarts Express, and you had introduced yourself to Harry and Ron around the same time she did. Now the four of you were a regular fixture on the grounds, and you wouldn’t change it for anything, even a few of the haughtier Slytherins (read: Draco Malfoy) made sure to mention that one of their house shouldn’t be mixing with the Gryffindors.

However, you didn’t really care what they thought. Yes, you were a Slytherin, and that meant a good many things: pride, ambition, and a thick skin in terms of others doubting you. So you became even better friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione just to spite them. You often found yourself with them at the Quidditch games, walking across the grounds, sneaking out of your dormitory late at night for a couple of misadventures, or now, with you and Hermione studying together at a table out in a corner of a stone hall.

One of the problems of being a Slytherin friend of three Gryffindors is that they could never go back to your common room to study with you, and you certainly weren’t allowed into their common room. Fred and George had offered to sneak you in loads of times, and you technically had been there before under Harry’s invisibility cloak, but for right now, you and Hermione were content to stay away from the roaring fires and plush red armchairs of the Gryffindor common room to work on a particularly gruesome Potions essay. You both wanted to finish it early, Hermione especially so she could then go teach it to Harry and Ron, so you stayed out of the lion’s dorm until you were adequately prepared.

Hermione sighs at the paper in front of her, wrinkling her brow in consternation. “Honestly, what does all of this even mean? I swear, Professor Snape’s directions get worse and worse with every assignment.” You nod fervently. “This prompt makes no sense, and I’ve been staring at it for the last fifteen minutes.” You drum your fingers on the table, thinking, then stand up. “I’m going to get that Potions primer from the library. You know, the one we were reading earlier? I thought I saw some similar wording in one of the chapters, and at any rate, I need an excuse to go stretch my legs. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Hermione waves goodbye as you head off down the stone corridors. The walk towards the library takes you across the courtyard, and you’re glad for the refreshing bite of the wind, even if it leaves your cheeks raw from the chill. You traipse inside the halls once more, twisting around corners until you reach the library, and gratefully slip through the doors to reach the towering bookcases crowding the room.

You stride purposefully through the shelves until you come to the row you’re looking for at last. Your eyes scan the titles in front of you, and you think you’re almost at the book until a familiar figure steps into the space right next to you. You don’t even have to look up to recognize him. You’ve seen his unwanted presence too many times for a case of mistaken identity.

Draco speaks first. “I’m surprised to see you, L/N. I didn’t think reading was one of your strong suits.” You raise an eyebrow, still perusing the books on the shelf. “Those are strong words coming from somebody who hit his peak academic performance as a weasel in the fourth year.” Draco rolls his eyes. “Ferret, not a weasel.” You look over at him at last, but can’t help a small grin. “Does it really matter? It was still a small animal, and it was still you.”

Draco heaves some dramatic and egotistical sigh, but folds his arms over his chest and stays put. He’s not looking for books, just standing there. In fact, his eyes keep flickering over to the corner of the library, near the door. You straighten up, following his gaze in confusion. “What are you doing?” You ask him, still trying to figure out what he’s looking at with such unease. “You don’t usually go out of your way to enjoy my company and you also keep staring at the door.”

Draco starts to mutter something about how not all of the library belongs to you, but you cut him off with a gasp of delight. “You’re hiding from Pansy Parkinson! She’s over there looking for you, and you’re trying to make sure she can’t see you by hiding behind all the bookshelves!” You laugh, and then start to raise your voice, as if you’re about to call her over. Instantly, Draco leans over you, pushing you against the bookcase and holding his wand against your throat.

“Don’t say a word.” His voice is cool and low. A teasing grin flickers across your lips, and you push his wand away with one finger. “What, you going to hex me, Malfoy? In the middle of the library? I think that would draw your favorite girl over here more than anything.” Draco just stares daggers at you, breath coming harshly in his chest. He stares there, unmoving, until you jerk your chin towards the doors. “Pansy’s gone. Now can you please let go of me?”

Draco waits a moment just to spite you, and then releases his grip on your wrist. You snatch your hand away from him with an air of disgust, and grab your potions book off of the shelf. “Never do that again.” You hiss at him, and stalk away. Who does he think he is, that lout? You’re still storming over the incident the whole way back to the table, and barely notice that Harry and Ron have joined you until you throw yourself back into your seat.

Hermione looks up at your abrupt arrival. “What’s wrong, Y/N?” You heave a sigh of irritation. “Draco Malfoy, that’s what’s wrong. I ran into that lowlife in the library. I just can’t stand him.” Harry nods knowingly, but Ron, who appears to be in an even worse mood than you, rolls his eyes. “Oh, stop complaining. You’re a Slytherin, he isn’t as bad to you.” This is entirely the wrong thing to say, and you know you should just ignore him but you’re still fired up from the confrontation in the library.

“Are you saying that Malfoy’s not as mean to me because I’m from his house?” Ron nods, ignoring Hermione pointedly shaking her head at him in an attempt to get him to stay quiet. “Yeah, I am. You keep pretending like he’s such a jerk to you, but you don’t have it half as bad as the rest of us. Honestly, you need to stop making such a big deal out of nothing.” You know you’re overreacting, but you can’t take Ron’s griping, not today. You stand up, slamming your books shut and sweeping your parchment and quills into your bag.

“In that case, I suppose you don’t need my nothing when it comes to your potions essay. Good luck figuring that out.” You glance over at Hermione. “I’m sorry to leave in a rush, but I should be on my way. Swing by later if you need help.” Hermione says her chagrined goodbyes, and as you stalk away from the table, you can hear her laying into Ron already. The sound brings a smile to your face.

You’re still fuming over Draco and Ron and the god-awful Potions essay the next day, and your irritation must show because Pansy takes advantage of the opportunity to cross paths with you as you’re walking through the halls. She’s chattering with a group of her friends in the courtyard, and as you hurry past, you hear her call something out to you. “Oh look, there’s Y/N. You know, she looks surprisingly proud for someone who’s father is a mudblood-lover. Maybe she’s alright with it.”

Your footsteps slow, and you turn back to face Pansy. You know that this is just what she wants, but you’ve got a burning feeling in the back of your head that tells you that if you let one more person walk all over you you’ll never be able to deal with yourself again. You eye Pansy coolly. “What was that, Parkinson?” Pansy smirks, victorious. “I heard a rumor that your father was getting a little too close to some Muggles. That would certainly tarnish your reputation, wouldn’t it? And here I was, thinking that the L/Ns were an upstanding wizarding family, but I guess not. It looks like-”

You feel like you’re a couple of seconds away from punching Pansy right in her arrogantly prissy face, but before you can try to argue yourself out of violence another boy steps up beside you. You groan inwardly when you realize it’s Draco. Great, another person to make fun of you, because this day wasn’t going badly enough already. However, he doesn’t join in the laughter. In fact, he shoots a glare at Pansy. “Amazing, Parkinson. Did you finally realize that your own family was so low that you had to make up rumors to get anywhere? Although, you might want to stay away from the Muggle story. I think it might be a little too true on your end.”

Pansy’s face blanches, and she starts stammering something about how that couldn’t possibly be true and she has no idea what Draco’s talking about. You stare at Draco in amazement, and he turns back to you. “Let’s go. I don’t feel like wasting any more of our time.” With that, the two of you strut away across the courtyard, leaving Pansy behind to make up excuses to her group of friends.

Only when you’re out of hearing distance from Pansy do you finally let yourself relax. You look over at Draco, unable to stop yourself from laughing. “What was that about? Is it really true about Pansy’s family?” Draco, surprisingly, is grinning as well. “I don’t know, but she didn’t seem like she could deny it.” The two of you carry on in hilarity for a while, but then you turn to him, grin slipping away from your face. “Why did you do that?” Draco frowns. “Do what?” You gesture idly behind you with your hand. “Defend me against Parkinson. I would have thought you’d join in instead of having my back.”

Draco shrugs, looking down the hallway. “We’re supposed to be enemies, aren’t we? I don’t feel like having my rival limited by false rumors. It would lower me too.” You look at him askance. “You publicly insulted Pansy Parkinson just because you think that me being called names hurts you as well?” Draco shrugs. “Why did you think I did it?” You sigh, furrowing your brow. “I don’t know.”

Even after you and Draco turn down separate hallways, you find yourself still thinking about him. Why would he defend you? It makes no sense. You even think back to that moment in the library, and realize that he wasn’t really as cruel as you had thought. All he had done then was exchange the usual retorts, although those had the same joking tinge as always. And wasn’t it strange that of all the places to hide, he had chosen your aisle? It could have just been a coincidence, or maybe he was seeking you out intentionally.

You’re not sure how you feel about this. You’ve grown so used to thinking of Draco as an enemy, someone to be hated, that you don’t quite know what to do when he is nice to you. You find your eyes flickering his way in the common room, or your gaze constantly catching on his silhouette as he walks past you in the halls. You usually never spend this much time thinking about him, but now, he seems to be everywhere.

One night, you can’t focus on your homework. Between the smoky atmosphere of the Slytherin common room or the mind-twisting Transfiguration tasks McGonagall’s set for you, you just can’t seem to get your thoughts in order. Eventually, you close up your books and decide to head to the Astronomy Tower. The cool night air will clear your head, and you’ll still technically be doing homework because you’ll be studying the stars.

You’re grateful for the still emptiness of the tower. You prop your arms up against the stone edge of the balcony, letting your shoulders slump as you consider the dizzying drop to the grounds below. You tilt your head up slightly, letting the wind trace patterns against your skin. You’re just beginning to feel peaceful once again when you hear the door to the Astronomy Tower open and a figure joins you on the turret. You sigh inwardly when you recognize the familiar shock of white-blond hair. Of course- Draco always goes to the Astronomy Tower as a place to unwind. Then you’re surprised as to why that fact popped so readily into your head, and how you even knew that in the first place.

Draco’s steps falter for a second when he realizes he’s not alone. You start to move away from the balcony. “Here, I’ll go. You can have the tower to yourself.” You turn around to find yourself caught in Draco’s gaze, those storm grey eyes pinning you in place. Draco shakes his head just slightly, and his voice echoes across the stone room. “No, don’t go. It’s alright.” You hesitate for a moment, then turn back to the view before you. Your eyes follow the line of trees dotting the grounds, the twisting snakes of rivers that feed into the Black Lake.

After a moment, Draco joins you at the balcony. He leans up against the stone, just a few inches away from you. You both stand there in silence, unable to say a word. At last, Draco turns to you. “What are we?” You return his gaze, slightly confused. “What?” Draco looks away for just a second, and then his eyes return to you. “When we first met, we hated each other. We’ve been rivals for years, and now-” He breaks off. “I don’t think we dislike each other anymore. I don’t think we have for a while.” You stay silent for a second, taking in his words. Then you nod.

“There’s something else, isn’t there? It isn’t just me?” For a moment, you think you’ve gone too far, spoken too rashly. Draco stares at you, then he leans forward and kisses you. When he breaks away, panic and regret flash through his eyes when you don’t say anything. He starts to move away, but you step towards him and kiss him again. This time, he doesn’t break away, not immediately. His hand slides up to the small of your back, the stone of the balcony cool against your legs.

You can still feel his hand on your waist when he breaks away. You look away, sure you’ve made some mistake that you’ll regret in the morning, but then his fingers are lightly pressed against your cheek, guiding you back to look at him again. He looks less sure of anything than you’ve ever seen him, but all of a sudden that doubt is replaced by a calm determination. “This is right. This is what we were supposed to be.” You nod quietly, letting your hesitation break free with a smile. He’s right, isn’t he? No matter how it felt to win all the arguments or competitions with him, this moment right now feels far better than anything before it. This is what you always wanted, and what he wants as well.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy oneshot #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter oneshot #harry potter draco #harry potter draco malfoy #harry potter draco malfoy imagine #draco #draco imagine #draco x reader #draco imagines #draco oneshot

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daydreaming-away-reality · 4 years ago

Text

Weathered Emotions

Alex x Reader | ☁️ | 1.3k

In hindsight, you knew it was a bad idea. Even though you had watched the weather report and had seen the foreboding signs of the bad storm that was incoming, you had stepped out of your house regardless.

Looks like the fortune teller was right about your terrible luck for once.

Earlier that morning, the light drizzle didn’t seem to bad as it helped you water your crops and made it easier for you to interact with your farm animals.

It was when you had stepped off the farm that you started noticing the weather was taking a turn for the worse.

While you had remembered to take an umbrella to shelter yourself from the rain, it had not been enough to shelter you from the dangers of being out in a thunderstorm.

You had been walking by Marnie’s place when a loud crack of lightning had struck a nearby tree and caused it to fall.

Right on top of you.

Having heard your terrified shriek, Leah had been nearby and came out to investigate what had happened. Finding the fallen tree with you buried among all the branches was a scary sight. Honestly, if you had found anyone in that situation, you were pretty sure you would have been more scared that Leah had been.

Lucky for you, the trunk of the tree missed you and you were mainly struck and trapped by the branches. When Leah started pulling away branches to free you, she found you super charged with fear. It took a couple minutes to simply calm you down, but somehow she had managed to do it.

You had thought you had saw your life flash before your eyes when the massive pine had fallen your way.

If it weren’t for Leah, you were pretty sure you would have been stuck there much longer than you wanted.

After managing to pull you out from under all the branches, Leah took you straight to Dr. Harvey’s clinic. Finding you all scratched up and battered was a surprising sight for the doctor who occasionally diagnosed you as overworked. Both Harvey and Leah were relieved after doing a check up and tending to your wounds that you had not experienced any worse conditions.

Looks like you were lucky to some degree.

Just as you were about to step out of the clinic, the sound of someone’s voice caught your attention.

“(Y/N)!”

“Alex?” you asked, watching him hurry over to your side with an umbrella overhead. You could see the worry that plagued him as he took in your status. Your clothes were a bit torn up and the many bandages were covering your injuries, as someone who didn’t know what happened to you, you could see why he was so worried.

“I heard you got hurt, what happened?” he asked, reaching out to touch you with his free hand. His fingers gently brushed over the bandage on your cheek. “Are you okay?”

Feeling him being so careful made your cheeks heat up. If Alex noticed this, he didn’t acknowledge it as he touched you as if you were made of glass.

Leah poked her head out from behind you. “She nearly got crushed by a tree.”

At her response, Alex froze and paled.

“What?!”

You awkwardly laughed. “Yeah... I’d probably still be trying to get out from under all those branches if it weren’t for Leah.” You turned to the red head. “Thanks again, Leah.”

Leah nodded in response. A knowing smile appeared on her face when she noticed the way Alex was looking at you.

“Hey Alex, do you think you could walk (Y/N) home?” she asked, looking at the brown haired boy. “She should probably go home and get some more rest.”

“Oh, sure,” Alex agreed immediately. He moved to pull you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’ll make sure to get her home safe.”

Leah grinned at your flushed reaction. At this point, you were pretty sure everyone in town knew about your crush on the former all star quarterback with the exception of him.

Even though he murmured an excuse about making sure you’re okay and to keep you dry from the rain, Alex seemed determined to keep you close. Feeling the warmth of him through the close proximity, you looked at Alex in curiosity.

“How did you know I was hurt?” you asked as Alex walked with you back to your place. You knew living in a small town meant it didn’t take long for information to spread, but Alex had showed up pretty fast considering it only took fifteen minutes for Harvey to tend to you. Speaking of which, everyone would know about your accident by tomorrow at this rate...

“Gran saw you being escorted by Leah when she looked out the window,” Alex explained. “She was worried when she saw how bad you looked - I’m still worried, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be okay,” you reassured him. “Just... startled. I didn’t expect that to happen.”

“I’m relieved it wasn’t worse,” Alex voiced his thoughts softly. “We could have lost you from that kind of accident.”

You could feel him tightening his grip on you.

“I’m still here,” you softly said.

“Yeah, you are,” he whispered with sigh.

When the two of you arrived at your house, you missed the warmth of him the moment he stepped back. You reached out and grabbed his sleeve, unable to meet his eyes with how red your cheeks were at your bold move.

“Can you stay with me for a bit longer?”

“Of course.” Alex smiled, closing his umbrella, and following you inside.

“I’ll get us something to drink,” you offered as you moved to your kitchenette.

Realizing this was the first time that you had Alex over at your place, you tried not to panic too much as you tried to prepare some hot chocolate for the two of you.

Realizing your hands were shaking when you set down the mugs.

Warm hands wrapped around yours and you looked up to see Alex watching you.

“I’ve got this.”

His deep voice comforted you as he maneuvered around your space with your guidance in preparing the hot chocolate. After urging you to change into clothes that were dry, Alex took the time to make sure you were feeling better. It wasn’t long before the two of you were seated on the sofa next to each other.

A warm silence fell between the two of you. You could feel Alex’s warmth again through the side that was touching yours. His fingers were brushing over the bandages on your arm, gently trailing closer to your wrist.

When he reached your wrist, he paused for a second before intertwining your fingers.

The action caused you to sit up in surprise, eyes immediately flickering to his.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Alex murmured. “I’m actually scared of losing you, you know?”

His words caused you to drop your shoulders. You knew that Alex had lost his parents when he was young, hence his grandparents taking him in. This confession he made though... It was awakening all the butterflies inside of you.

“Alex...” you breathed out.

“I don’t want to lose you before I even get the chance to tell you how I feel,” he continued. His cheeks were flushed at this point. He ran his free hand through his hair nervously. “I... I’m actually not ready for this right this now, but there’s no one else I’d rather be with, (Y/N). I’ve been feeling this way for a while now.”

You melted at his words. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you relaxed.

“I want to be with you too,” you confessed.

The soft smile on his face was something you wanted to remember forever.

“Give me some time, I want to confess to you properly, okay?”

“Okay.”

#stardew valley #stardew valley imagine #stardew valley imagines #stardew valley alex #stardew alex #alex x reader #x reader #reader insert #imagine #imagines #weathered emotions #request

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uvobreakmylegs · 4 years ago

Text

Caught by the Storm

idk how many people actually wanted a sequel to the Franklin piece but here you go anyway. A kinda soft thing except not really

Part 1

Warnings: gaslighting, hints of stalking

On Thursday nights you were the one in charge of closing up the cafe. The doors closed at 9, and it usually took about an hour to wipe down everything and make it all presentable again for opening the next morning.

But tonight had been particularly chaotic: three people had called off sick and left the wait staff shorthanded, and when you had finally reached the end of dinner service the kid who was supposed to help you clean up the cafe had skipped out early, claiming that his mom needed him home earlier “for something”. When you'd asked him what exactly that was, he couldn't answer, but with the legalities of such things being what they were and the fact that he had gotten permission from the manager, you also couldn't really keep him from leaving. You were just another one of the wait staff like him and even though you'd worked there longer, you had no authority to order him around. The bell on the front door rung out as it closed shut behind him, a grin plastered on his stupid face as he left you with all the work in the messy dining area.

As nice as it would have been to beat him over the head with your broom, that wouldn't get the dining room clean.

It was after 11 when you were finally done. After turning out the lights, you left through the back entrance, double-checking to make sure that the door was locked before you started the walk back home.

Depending on how your shift had gone, this was either a relaxing walk back as you winded down, or it was a final kick to the stomach before you could reach the safety of your apartment. Tonight it was the latter: your legs felt like lead, your feet were aching from running around for hours, your back hurt from moving around the chairs and tables, and you were exhausted from keeping up that cheerful server persona for the sake of unpleasant customers. It was also frustrating how unreliable your coworkers could be, like that kid who'd abandoned you, but you knew that if you tried bringing it up to the manager you'd just get blown off. He didn't like you, and he went out of his way to make that clear. You were certain that he wanted you to just quit.

And honestly, you really wanted to.

The issue was there was no other job that was close enough to your home that you were qualified for. Not having a car made getting around to places that were further away difficult and trying to save up for something like that was easier said than done. Until you completed your studies and could get a better job, you were stuck in the purgatory that was your current life. All you could hope for was that it would be worth it if you worked hard and stuck it out. Good things come to those who wait or something.

In the midst of the inner pep-talk you always gave yourself after a hard shift, you felt something small fall on your head.

A drop of water?

You glanced up, noting the dark clouds that filled the night sky that hadn't registered when you had walked out earlier. A few more drops fell, some landing on you again.

Crap. You couldn't recall seeing any sort of weather report about rain tonight, and you didn't have an umbrella on you.

As much as the muscles in your legs protested, you picked up the pace as you continued down the sidewalk, hoping that you could make it back to your apartment before the rain came down harder.

'So much for that,' you thought as you stood beneath the awning of a small business while the rain poured down around you. You had barely made it to the little shelter when the rain had switched from a drizzle to a downpour, and even now the wind was still blowing some of the water in your direction, your shoes and socks slowly becoming soaked. But you tried to stay positive. At least you had even this much as a shelter so you could avoid being completely soaked, right? Just wait it out until the rain lessened a bit.

So you waited.

And waited.

And waited while the water pooled in your shoes and your cold wet socks clung to your feet, the sensation becoming worse whenever you would adjust your footing and caused the water that had filled up in the soles of your shoes to be forced out.

And the goddamn rain was not dying down.

The idea of braving the storm and entering your apartment building looking like a drowned rat wasn't appealing, but you really needed to get home. It was already so late and you couldn't stay under the awning for the rest of the night. Better to just hurry back as fast as you could and hope that you wouldn't get pneumonia.

Adjusting the contents of your bag so your electronics were positioned where they were the least likely to get wet, you took in a deep breath as you prepared yourself to run out into the storm.

But a voice that called out your name made you stop.

Turning around, you blinked in surprise when you recognized the man who had called out to you, standing only a few feet behind you: Franklin, the man who had quickly become your favorite regular at your job. He was far different than anybody else you served at that cafe; not just in appearance, but in terms of how he treated you. Even though he didn't spend much time there whenever he did come in, the little conversations you managed to have with him were usually among the highlights of your work day.

He was dressed in his normal attire, holding a large black umbrella that, despite its size, was unable to keep him completely sheltered from the downpour, the edge of his shoulder sticking out from underneath it and the fabric of his white jacket clinging to him. Franklin seemed to be just as surprised as you, and he walked closer, closing the umbrella as he joined you under the awning.

“What are you doing out so late?” he asked.

“Trying to get home,” you answered, sighing as you looked out again at the rain.

“I guess I missed the weather reports because this took me completely by surprise. Although I probably could have made it back fine if I had gotten out on time,” you added bitterly, more to yourself than him.

“I see,” said Franklin.

A bolt of lightning suddenly flashed overhead, followed by a loud peal of thunder that made you jump. Was it possible that this storm was only getting worse?

“Would you like me to walk you home?” he asked.

“Huh?”

Franklin motioned to the falling rain.

“It doesn't seem like it'll die down soon, and with how dark it is now, going back on your own might be dangerous,” he explained, “although it might not protect us too much with how bad this storm is, I do have an umbrella, so we won't get completely soaked. It's better than nothing, at least. So let me walk you the rest of the way.”

It was a nice offer, and even if his umbrella didn't give you much protection – you weren't sure how the two of you would fit under there together – anything would be better than going off alone. But despite his offer, you were worried that you might be inconveniencing him in some way.

“Are you sure? That won't be too out of the way for you?” you asked.

“Not at all. I'm heading that direction anyway. It makes more sense if we go together, right?”

You hummed an affirmative, and he smiled at you, stepping forward to open the umbrella and motioning for you to join him. Smiling back at him, you did just that. The two of you needed to squeeze close together to fit, and just as expected, a majority of the rain was still hitting you both. But like he had said, it was better than nothing, and Franklin did his best to angle the umbrella in the right way so it faced the direction that the rain was coming in from to protect you as much as he could.

His arm hovered around you as you began to walk forward, seemingly trying to shield you further from the elements while also trying to not make you too uncomfortable with the physical contact. You smiled up at him, offering a small “thank you.”

He smiled back in response, but said nothing as the two of you went along.

“So were you working late, too?” you asked after a few moments of relative silence, the rain still pounding against the pavement.

“A meeting ran late,” he explained, “what about you? You mentioned not getting out on time. Is this not normal for you?”

“No, not usually,” you sighed, “the guy who was supposed to help me clean up ran off early, and things were crazier than usual at dinner service because of some call-ins. So there was just a lot to do after we closed, and I can only go so fast.”

“Your coworker just left you?”

“Yep.”

“Can't you complain?”

“I can, but it won't do much. The manager signed off on it before I even got in today, and since he likes that kid more than he likes me, nothing would come from it,” you explained.

“Hmm. And this is the same manager who dislikes me?” he asked.

“Yeah, that's him. I really am sorry about him,” you said, “you'd think someone who managed to get to that position would act better towards customers.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” said Franklin, “his behavior isn't your fault.”

He looked ahead as the two of you walked.

“By the way, where exactly are we headed?” he asked.

“Ah! That would be helpful, wouldn't it? Sorry,” you said, scratching your head, slightly embarrassed.

“We have to walk straight a little more until we come up to a stop sign, then we'll take a right. There'll be some turns we need to take after, but I can explain when we get there.”

You looked back to him, asking “you're sure this isn't too much trouble?”

“I'm sure. Besides,” he chuckled, “I'm not going to leave you halfway.”

You smiled at him.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Despite the dreary, dark atmosphere the storm created, things felt peaceful between you two as you made your way down the sidewalk, eventually turning a corner as you had instructed him. It was nice to talk to him outside of your job where you didn't have management breathing down your back, and you made more chit-chat as the two of you continued, only ever being interrupted whenever the thunder sounded out especially loud or when a lightning strike in the distance startled you. Unlike you, Franklin appeared to have nerves of steel as he barely reacted to the things that made you jump. But given that he said he worked as a security guard, you supposed that made sense.

“Do you normally get out late on Thursdays?” he asked suddenly.

“Yeah, I close, so I'm supposed to be out by 10.”

“So still pretty late. Aren't you worried about walking back by yourself?”

“I mean, this has always been a pretty safe area,” you said.

“For now, at least. But all it takes is for someone to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“I guess,” you conceded, “but I don't really have much choice, so it's just a risk that I have to take.”

Franklin looked as if he wanted to say something, but he instead chose to hum in acknowledgment. His eyes then turned upward and he straightened slightly when he noticed something.

“This is your apartment, isn't it?”

You looked to where his eyes had gone, and sure enough, your apartment building stood not too far from where the two of you were. That had seemed faster than you anticipated, though it was likely due to you being distracted when you were speaking to him.

You two were already heading to the building when a thought occurred to you.

“Did I give you the rest of the directions after we passed the stop sign?” you asked him.

Franklin blinked in surprise, then looked at you quizzically.

“Of course you did. How else would I have gotten you here?”

You felt slightly stupid again as he said that. Of course you had given him the rest of the directions: there wasn't any other way he could have known where to go.

“Sorry, you're right. I must have forgotten,” you said, trying to laugh it off, “I'm more tired than I realized.”

“Don't worry about it,” he answered.

Both of you were fairly damp by the time you reached the shelter of the building, Franklin shaking out his umbrella while you retreated further towards the front door, leaving your wet footprints on the dry concrete that had been protected by the cover over the building's entrance.

“I guess that could have been worse,” Franklin commented as he joined you by the door.

“I'm happy to not be completely soaked, so thank you for that,” you said.

He chuckled as he looked you over.

“It is late, so I won't keep you any longer,” he said, turning back towards the rain that continued to pour down, “I'll see you sometime later.”

“Ah, sure.”

A pang of guilt shot through you as he started to walk back out into it. He didn't need to walk you back, but he had anyway even though it had possibly kept him out in these bad conditions longer than he needed to be. Letting him go back out into that didn't seem like the right thing to do.

“Wait,” you called out.

Franklin paused, turning back to look at you.

“Would you, um, like to come in for a bit?”

There was a certain unsteadiness to your voice, you could tell. You weren't one to really invite anyone into your apartment, much less men that you really didn't know all that well. But it felt different with Franklin; you could trust him.

His eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I thought you were tired,” he said.

“Yeah, but it's still pouring out. At least stay until it dies down a little. As a 'thank you' for walking me back?”

Franklin looks between you and the rain, contemplating his options. At least, that's what it seemed like he was doing. There was a certain intensity in his gaze that you'd never seen before, and you weren't sure what that was about. Maybe you were being too forward? He didn't seem like the type to get uncomfortable easily, but maybe this was the exception.

You were about to tell him that he didn't have to if he had somewhere else to be when he answered you, saying “it might be nice to wait this out for a little.”

Beaming at him, you waved him back over as you opened the glass door of the building.

He'd needed to side-step through your front door in order to fit his wide shoulders through. While it was hard to miss that he was much larger than the average person, the fact that your apartment may have been too small for him wasn't something you had factored in when you'd invited him up.

“Sorry if it's cramped,” you said as he wiped his shoes on the mat.

As usual, he took everything in stride, telling you to not worry about it.

You pulled out one of the larger towels from your bathroom at his suggestion, placing it on the couch so he could sit without soaking it too much with his damp clothes. There was no way you had anything that could remotely fit him, so you needed to settle with handing him another towel after he sat; hopefully he could dry off at least a little bit.

“Do you want anything to drink? I have tea,” you offered.

“That sounds nice,” he said, nodding at you, “but shouldn't you do something about your clothes first?”

It had somehow slipped your mind that you had yet to change out of your wet work clothes. Today's shift really had run you more ragged than you'd thought; you weren't normally this forgettable.

“Sorry, can you give me a minute to change?”

“Go ahead.”

You hurried back to your room, closing the door behind you and pulling off your work uniform before throwing it into the hamper. Maybe not the best place to put it since it wasn't dry, but you'd deal with it later. Even though you weren't normally a host, you felt bad for leaving Franklin alone, and you worried that perhaps he perceived you as being some sort of careless idiot for managing to forget something as obvious as changing out of wet clothes. Not to mention the thing with the directions earlier.

Slipping into a loose-fitting shirt and a pair of leggings, you stepped back out into the living room area where he sat patiently, and you hoped you didn't look as flustered as you felt.

“Sorry again,” you said, making your way to the adjoining kitchen, “did you want anything to eat? I've got some snacks.”

“Just the tea is fine,” he answered.

Nodding, you turned away from him as you entered the small kitchen.

And then you paused.

In general, you wouldn't say you had that sense of being able to tell if someone was watching you. And yet when you turned away it was like a weight had fallen on you. A pair of eyes were roaming over you, scanning your form and taking in everything about you. And with there being only one other person in your apartment, there was only one possibility of who could be looking at you like that.

You glanced over your shoulder to see that not only was Franklin's gaze was not on you, but he wasn't even facing you. His eyes were closed, actually, and he continued to wait, the now damp towel he had used earlier folded up and sitting on his knee.

With a barely-audible sigh of relief, you relaxed a bit. It was the exhaustion that was making you feel weird; hopefully the tea would wake you up a bit and save you from any other embarrassing situations.

The largest mug in your pantry was still a bit small for Franklin, but you hoped it was slightly better than the mugs that held his coffee when he went to the cafe. Even if it wasn't he accepted it without complaint, thanking you and taking a small sip as you sat down on the chair adjacent to the couch with your own mug. Outside the storm continued, but while it didn't seem to have died down much, you at least no longer heard any thunder.

“So you live alone?” Franklin asked.

“Yeah. It's a bit more expensive this way, but I figured it's better than moving in with people I don't know and might not get along with,” you explained.

“What about family? Do they not live close by?”

“No, they live pretty far from here,” you said, “it was kind of scary when I moved out, but part of the young adult experience is living on your own, right?”

“I suppose,” he said, taking another sip of his tea.

“What about you? Where's your family?” you asked.

He set his mug back down, humming to himself as he considered his answer.

“In terms of biological family, I don't have any,” he said, “or if there are any out there, they've never come around looking for me.”

Oh.

“But,” Franklin continued before you could get out an apology for bringing it up, “it's not something that's really bothered me. I'd say I've done well enough for myself, and I'm not interested in seeking them out.

“Besides, I have a stronger bond with the people I work with.”

“Your coworkers?” you asked.

“Yeah. A lot of us started working together around the same time a few years ago. If I were to have any kind of familial bond, it'd be with them.”

He paused as he brought the mug up to his lips again, his thoughts distracting him.

“Maybe not all of them,” he added, somewhat hastily.

“That still sounds really nice. I wish I had that kind of close relationship where I worked,” you said, then added jokingly “is there a chance the place you work at is hiring?”

He let out a brief laugh, shaking his head as he smiled.

“Even if we were, there are some basic requirements you wouldn't be able to pass.”

“Ah, I see. I guess I'm not intimidating enough for a security job,” you said, laughing a little.

“That could be part of it,” he answered, chuckling.

“That's too bad. Guess I'll have to suffer with my current job until I can find something better.”

“You don't want to stay there?” Franklin asked.

“God no. That job is just to pay my bills. Eventually I'll find something better, I just need to figure out what to do with my life before that,” you sighed.

Franklin hummed, draining the last of his tea before setting the mug back down. His gaze went to the clock on the wall, and your own gaze followed, noting that it was now well after midnight.

“I should leave,” he said, “there are things I need to get done in the morning, and you should get some rest.”

“As long as you're sure – it sounds like it's still going pretty hard out there,” you said as he stood up.

“It'll be fine,” he assured you.

Walking back to the front door of your apartment, he collected the umbrella he'd left next to the entrance and then turned back to you.

“Thanks for the tea.”

“No problem. Do you want me to walk you back downstairs?” you asked.

“No, that's not necessary,” he said, “but that does remind me of something.”

“Hm?”

“You said earlier that you walk back on Thursdays at ten?”

You nodded, remembering what he asked before and how he seemed worried at the idea of you walking alone at night.

“Would you mind if I walked you back after you get off work on those days?”

In the moment you weren't sure what to say, and you just stared at him with some surprise. It was very kind of him to offer something like that, but part of you worried that maybe you'd be taking advantage of him a little.

“I know you said this was a safe area,” he continued, “but you never know what might happen.”

That's true. There had been more than a few times when making the journey back to your home that a dangerous-looking person on the street made you feel nervous. Not that anything had ever happened.

“I guess,” you began, “I won't stop you if you really want to? But I don't want to inconvenience you.”

“You won't,” said Franklin, “I don't mind making sure that you're safe.”

This sort of attention wasn't what you were used to, and all you could do was thank him again for his kindness, hoping that it didn't come out too awkward. You still didn't really feel like something like that was necessary, but ultimately, you couldn't see how it could hurt. Franklin just smiled at you again.

“I have some business to take care of over the weekend and at the beginning of the week, so I won't be in the area. But at the latest, I'll see you again next Thursday,” he said.

“Sounds good.”

The two of you exchanged your goodbyes before he side-stepped out the front door, you giving him one more wave before he entered the stairwell. When he left the building a few minutes later you watched a bit from your window. By this time the rain wasn't coming down as hard as it had been earlier, but with how that umbrella didn't protect him completely, he would still have the issue of his clothes being soaked by the time he got to his destination, probably. At least he didn't have another person to worry about.

You spent what little was left of your evening by cleaning up a bit before getting ready for bed, burrowing under the warm sheets after. But before you were able to drift off to sleep completely, another thought occurred:

Franklin seemed to have known where you were headed even before you had given him your directions. Almost like he had some idea of where you lived.

…... That's dumb. You probably told him what way you were headed and you just couldn't remember again.

What other explanation was there?

#franklin x reader #hxh franklin #franklin bordeau #yandere hunter x hunter #reader insert #yandere hxh #yandere #yandere x reader

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preciousthingsareprecious · 4 years ago

Text

Light’s Out

Alright! I am here with my next installment for D&d week! I hope you guys don’t mind a quieter, fluffier one.

Day 3: Trust / Adoption Papers / “You’re shaking”

Summary: Damian Wayne hates the cold. Dick knows this, and when a snow storm knocks the power out at the penthouse it's up to him to both warm his brother up and find a way to help him enjoy their unexpected snow day.

AO3 Link

“This is absurd.” Damian grumbled, tightening his hold on the blanket around his shoulders.

Dick had to hold back laughter at his little brother. Damian was coated head to toe in an attempt at keeping warm. He wore a sweater, coat, sweatpants --stolen from Dick’s dresser-- the thickest socks in the Penthouse, and to top it all off had encased himself in a blanket.

His nose was shaded a little red, and his face puckered in a furious scowl, “I do not understand why we cannot do anything to stop this--” he stopped speaking to wave a blanket covered hand at the window, “ nonsense. ”

Dick crossed his arms and grinned at his brother, “If you can tell me how you expect us to stop a natural weather phenomenon then I’d be happy to help.”

“Tt.” Damian spun on his heel, presumably to glare at the weather outside.

Outside the penthouse windows the site was gorgeous. Snow drifted past in huge fluffy flakes that piled against the windows and built up on the ground. It had been doing this for days now, and honestly Dick was kind of enjoying it. Gotham was cold, and often plagued by rain, ice, and snow, but rarely did it snow quite like this unless instigated by someone like Freeze.

But this? This was all mother nature. Come to give Dick and Damian a much needed break from patrol and work.

They’d gone out the first couple nights, but Damian’s obvious total distaste for the “dreadful cold” and the conditions growing more and more dangerous had pushed them inside. If Batman and Robin weren’t out, then Dick doubted too much crime was going on. They were all as snowed in as Damian and he.

“I think you’re overreacting a bit. We do have the heat on you know.” Dick said, moving over to stand beside Damian.

He shook his head, “Not nearly high enough. I do not understand how you two are not frozen through.”

Dick glanced towards Alfred’s room. The butler had taken an actual pot of tea and a book into his room earlier that day declaring a reading day and requesting they refrain from doing anything too catastrophic to the penthouse.

He was a bit jealous of the older man, Dick would like to settle in with a book or some knitting, maybe to do a puzzle. Cold like this stilled something in him, at least for a bit. But Damian had him on edge. He’d been wandering around the penthouse, piling on more layers and shuffling from room to room aimless and ornery.

He bounced on the balls of his feet, “We make do. You get used to Gotham’s cold. Especially with Freeze about.”

Damian slid his gaze towards Dick, “Are we certain it is not Freeze?”

“I’ve told you six and a half times, that it’s just weather. Freeze is snug in Arkham wishing this was him.”

“Tt.” Damian tugged the blanket a bit tighter around his shoulders, spun on a heel and stomped off.

Dick watched him for a few more minutes as Damian paced. He wandered from the living area over to the kitchen, stared at the fridge, turned and trudged down the hall. Dick could hear his socked feet scuff against the wood floor, then the carpet of his room, and back onto wood.

When he returned to the living room Dick stepped in front of him to stop his continued pacing.

“Dames.”

“What?”

“Why don’t we sit down and do a puzzle? Or we could get out those coloring books Stephanie dropped off a couple days ago, I saw you eyeing the forest animal one.”

His brother’s scowl deepened, “If I become stationary I will freeze.”

Dick sighed, unable to stop himself, “Damian, stop. The thermostat is set to the same it always is. You won’t freeze if you sit with me for a bit.”

Just then, the lights around them flickered then clicked off altogether. Dick and Damian were blanketed in darkness in a moment, with the only light inside that from the clouded sky outside the windows. The room was strangely silent without the heater running.

“This is your fault.” Damian snapped, and turned again to leave Dick alone in the room.

“Well.” Dick said, to the dark, “I guess that happened.”

He sighed, and with a forlorn glance out the windows at the snow still gently drifting down, he got busy getting the penthouse ready for a blackout.

After about fifteen minutes Dick had successfully dug out a number of candles, and a few of their big flashlights. He lit a few candles to add to the dim lighting in the room, then rolled up his sleeves to get started on the fire.

The fireplace was traditional. Bruce had insisted on it, in case of events just like this. Electric or gas just couldn’t be relied on in the case of bad weather or a Rogue attack. They stocked plenty of logs and starters in the penthouse, making it quick and easy for Dick to get the fire set up and started.

Soon it was crackling away and adding its own light and warmth to the room.

Dick stood and grinned at it for a moment, then moved to check on Alfred and Damian.

He knocked on Alfred’s door first, sure his welcome would be better received here than at Damian’s door. After a moment he cracked the door open.

“Hey, Al. I got a fire going if you’d like to move to the living room.”

Alfred’s room was already lit with candles, and Alfred was snuggled in his bed. He folded a book closed around his index finger and smiled, “If I get too cold I will gladly join you, but for now I am fine. Have you checked the bunker yet?”

Dick shook his head, “Not yet, I figured I’d get upstairs livable first. Plus it’s got emergency generators. It should be fine for a while. And--” he grinned, “If it really gets too cold up here we can always head down there.”

Alfred nodded, “Excellent. If the blackout persists we will have to consider alternatives to dinner.”

Dick nodded, “Yeah, but I’m sure you can figure out something. You are a wizard in the kitchen.”

Alfred waved him off, “Is your next stop Master Damian? I doubt he has experienced this kind of outage before.”

“He told me last week he spent a week in the mountains of--somewhere without power.” Dick pointed out, a little joking, but also serious.

He wasn’t sure how true Damian’s story had even been, but he had a feeling there was at least a grain of truth to it. Just imagining a milder version of the story had set off Dick's desire to tug the kid into a tight hug.

“Which was an expected situation. This is anything but that. Have patience with him, Gotham is something entirely new.”

Dick nodded, “I hate that it was ever a situation for him, but you’re right. I was going to see him next.”

Alfred nodded, “Be off then. I will let you know if I need anything.”

“Be sure you do, I know you’re enjoying the quiet but if it gets too cold please join us.”

With that Dick left Alfred to his reading and moved to Damian’s room. He stood at the door for a moment, considering what his brother’s reaction might be to being interrupted.

As dramatic as Damian was being over a little cold weather, Dick knew he was shaken. He’d been obvious about his distaste for the cold, which had surprised Dick more than anything. Damian never admitted to things that might seem like a weakness. The power going out had probably made everything worse.

He knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping lightly, “Dames?”

“Go away.” came the muffled answer, “Unless you have devised a way to change the weather.”

“I haven’t, but I did get a fire started. It’s really warm to sit by, and probably better than hiding in your room.”

“I am not hiding.”

Dick tried the handle. To his relief it turned. If Damian was really angry with him he’d have locked it tight.

Inside, he found a bundled Damian sitting on his bed. He was glowering out from his blanket, now pulled up over his head. He hadn’t even bothered to dig out a flashlight or candle, so the only light in the room came from the window.

“What?” he snapped.

Dick leaned against the doorframe and grinned at Damian, “You sure you’re not hiding? Bundled up in here in the dark?”

“Tt. And who’s fault is it that I am in the dark?”

“Yours?” Dick raised an eyebrow.

The boy shook his head, knocking the blanket off and revealing tousled hair.

Dick shifted, crossing his arms, “You can’t possibly blame me for the weather or the power?”

He looked over Damian. His brother still didn’t look happy, but the stubbornness dropped off his face. He shrugged, tugging the blanket a bit closer. Dick sighed, and pushed off the frame to move into the room.

“Come on, Kiddo. You can’t just stay in here all day.” He said.

Damian straightened, his expression set, “I can and will.”

Closer now, Dick could see Damian was shivering. Really, his stubbornness was just as bad as Bruce’s sometimes. Dick shook his head.

“You’re shaking. There’s no way I’m leaving you in here alone.” He nodded to himself, “No, there’s only one thing to do.”

With that, he closed the distance between himself and Damian. In a movement he scooped his brother up into his arms. Damian immediately started to squirm and kick.

“Release me, Richard!”

Dick adjusted his hold, Damian was slippery on a normal day, and cocooned in a blanket it was even harder to hold him. He ignored Damian’s protests, tucking his bundled brother under his arm and strolled out of the room.

“Put me down!” Damian yelled, kicking his legs.

It was funny to watch, with them wrapped up in his blanket and partially restricted. However, Dick didn’t laugh. The goal was to get him comfortable, and laughing at Damian was the opposite of that, no matter how adorable he was.

“Here you go.” he said, reaching the living room.

There, he plopped Damian down onto the carpet in front of the fireplace. Dick left Damian there and moved to the kitchen. Ever practical and overly prepared, Bruce had set the fireplace up so if needed, they could hang a pot or kettle over it. Some hot tea would be just the thing to soothe Damian. Well, Dick hoped it would at least help.

He tested the water, happy to find it running still, and filled a kettle with enough water to make a few cups, but not take forever to heat over the fire. When he returned, Damian hadn’t moved from the spot he’d been dropped in. He had adjusted his blanket, and was leaned against the brickwork.

“Careful or you’ll set your blanket on fire.”

“Doubtful.” Damian said, eyes on the kettle, “This is not my first time being settled by a fire.”

Dick hummed, and hung the kettle. He plopped down next to Damian, kicking a foot close to one of his brother’s hidden beneath the blanket.

“Is it helping you warm up?”

“It is doing an adequate job.”

Adequate was about as good a descriptor as Dick could expect to get from his brother, and he accepted it. He nodded, leaning back on his palms.

“Good, now I guess we just wait on the lights to come back on.”

Damian hummed, his attention on the fire.

This close, Dick could see the light flickering against the green of Damian’s irises, and the way the heat was already warming his cheeks. He should probably tell the kid to scoot back a bit, but it was the first time all day he hadn’t complained of feeling cold, so he left him be.

“I’m going to grab a couple things to do, you want something to read, maybe your sketchbook?” Dick asked, pushing himself to his feet.

The dark and Damian were making him antsy again. He’d feel better with a goal. A book to read, a page in a coloring book to fill in. Anything. The idea of waiting had his feet almost physically itching in a way he hadn’t felt since he was a kid, learning how to sit quiet for his first stakeout next to Batman.

Damian shook his head, still watching the fire.

“Ohh-kay.” Dick said with a clap, “I’ll just get a little of everything then.”

He used his phone to look into the closet where they kept games for infrequent hang outs with Steph and Tim, and any of Dick’s old friends who might show up at random. He considered for a moment actually grabbing a board game, then decided against it. Damian didn’t seem in the mood to get trounced at Twister or to totally defeat Dick at Monopoly. Instead he scooped up a puzzle featuring a kitten playing with a ball of yarn and moved on.

From there he stacked a couple books from his bookshelf on top. One he’d been looking forward to reading, and Howl’s Moving Castle. He kept seeing Damian linger by, but he’d never picked up. Dick figured it was because he’d probably thought it was childish to pursue fantasy.

Coloring books and a box of garishly shaded colored pencils were balanced atop the stack, and with that Dick made his way back into the living room.

It was cozy, the fire having warmed the area considerably in his short time away. Snow still drifted lazily down outside their windows, and Damian was still perched by the fire. He didn’t look like he’d really moved at all.

Dick returned to his seat on the floor and dropped the stack of ‘things to do’ between him and Damian. When his brother didn’t so much as glance at it or Dick, he opted for selecting his own book and waiting the kid out. Damian would get bored eventually and the temptation of books and art was too strong for any ten year old. Even one supposedly trained out of being a kid.

For a long time they sat there together, with only the crackle of the fire and the wind outside to keep them company. Dick’s attention kept drifting over to the fire as well, his mind wandering onto his dad.

If only Bruce were still alive. He’d be secretly delighted to finally get to use all the fail-safes he built into the penthouse. Then again, if Bruce were alive they’d be at the Manor, with its own generators, and back up energy pulled from solar power and not facing the blackout at all.

Still, Dick thought Bruce would enjoy this. Gotham quieted by snow, all real distractions pulled away from them along with the power. All they could do was read or write, or talk. Dick would have pestered his dad with a million words, a flood of conversation that could have easily made the time fly by.

But he wasn’t here. And he’d never experience this strange sort of twilight quiet with them. Dick’s heart twisted a bit. A sharp tug of grief he hadn’t been expecting. But then again, he never really expected the way it washed over him. It was always something little. Bruce’s contact still in his favorites on his phone, the scent of his cologne on someone else passing Dick in the street. And now this. A missed moment.

Tears wanted to prick at his eyes, but Damian was right there. Dick couldn’t just randomly start crying in front of him. And getting up to leave suddenly would only draw his attention. Instead he blinked them back, and tried turning his attention to his book.

It took a few tries, as he had to re-read a page almost four times before it sank in, but eventually Dick got back into the narrative.

When the kettle started whistling Dick moved to get mugs and tea bags, one for each of them.

Damian watched him, his attention moved for the moment on Dick as he went about his task. He seemed a bit more relaxed, even if he hadn’t risen to Dick’s bait yet. Still, he was confident Damian would enjoy this unexpected free time with him at some point.

“Thank you.” Damian said, when Dick handed him a steaming mug, fitted with a bag of green tea already seeping color into the water.

“No problem.” Dick answered, “Want to do a puzzle?”

Damian shrugged, and Dick bit back a smile. See, a little time was all the kid needed.

He shifted the mess he’d brought in to the side and promptly dumped out the puzzle pieces onto the floor in a heap. Almost automatically, Damian started shifting end pieces away from middle ones. Dick followed suit, and soon they were slowly but methodically putting the puzzle together.

“I hate the cold.” Damian said, the statement so sudden and surprising Dick actually dropped his puzzle piece.

He bit back an immediate response of ‘You don’t say.’ and instead picked the piece back up and nodded at his brother.

Damian fiddled with a puzzle piece, turning it over between fingers in his hand, “It makes me slow.” he continued, careful with his words, “It makes my fingers feel dumb and my body tired when I’ve worked so hard to make it anything but. I can catch an arrow shot at me, and climb a mountain with a broken wrist. And yet--the cold seems to step in and say that all of that work is for naught.”

He pressed the piece down into its spot, fingers lingering on it for a moment, “It makes me feel powerless in a way only Grandfather’s stare could.” his voice was so soft at this point it was almost like the whisper of the wind outside their window.

“It is not that I am unused to the cold. I trained in it, and we had winter. I simply have never been able to acclimate to it.”

Damian pulled his legs towards him and turned his gaze back to the fire, “What does that make me?”

“It makes you Damian.” Dick said, “Human. A child. One of many people who prefer warm sunny days to cold cloudy ones.”

Damian’s arms tightened around his legs, and Dick could practically read his mind. He could almost hear the list of people in Damian’s family who would disagree with that statement. Who would call him weak and a failure and unworthy of his title.

“Plus, that’s why you have me. And Stephanie, and Cass, and even Tim.” Dick added, “Though, don’t tell anyone but I’m pretty sure Steph hates the cold about as much as you do. My point is, we’re here to help. To have your back if you want to go out, and to be by your side if you want to stay in. And to remind you that being yourself means liking, hating, excelling, and failing at all kinds of things. You are not defined simply by your failures or successes. You are every bit of Damian.”

His brother’s gaze flickered back over to him, and after a moment he nodded, “Perhaps.” he said.

“You have done a good job making it bearable. Even prior to the power failing.” Damian added, uncoiling a little, to let his legs slip forward, “Though, your taste in puzzles is questionable.”

“Hey!” Dick protested, “It was this or the totally impossible all black one.”

“It is only one color?” Damian asked.

Dick nodded, “Bruce got it thinking it would be a good Robin challenge. Only even he got so frustrated he gave up on it after a while.”

A flicker of competition lit behind Damian’s eyes, “Get it. We will accomplish together what Father refused to. And if we fail, it will at least be a better challenge than this kitten.”

It was a request Dick couldn’t say no to.

They worked on the puzzle through the rest of the day. Into Alfred joining them by the fire, through a simple dinner of sandwiches, and into the evening.

When the power at last kicked back on with a gentle hum that was the heater, Damian was leaned against Dick, his blanket drooped off his shoulders, snoring slightly. The puzzle was half finished. And the sun was just peeking over the horizon.

#dickanddamiweek2021 #Dick Grayson #Damian Wayne #hurt/comfort #fluff #power outages #cold #crackling fires #precious posts

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hxneyandespressx · 4 years ago

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all at once (you are the one i have been waiting for)

summary: the lights are out. roads are flooded. jj and elle are stuck at jj’s apartment due to a thunderstorm. what secrets will be revealed when these two friends are alone in the dark?

pairing: jennifer jareau x elle greenaway (jelle)

word count: 2.8k

a/n: memories are in italics

☆。*。☆。

A pair of women ran across the fresh wet lawn from a car parked in the distance, a few feet away from the apartment building. Giggles could be heard clearly from across the road. They skipped up the small steps and reached the entrance. Under the porch roof, the blonde shook her head like a wet dog, while the brunette attempted to dry her hair with her cold hands. The friends entered the building, working their way up to the blonde’s apartment, all while causing a commotion within the hallways. JJ haphazardly took out her keys from her baby blue raincoat and unlocked her apartment door. She took off her jacket and hung it on the antique coat hanger, with her muddy hiking boots by the door.

“Sorry… uh- make yourself at home,” JJ said. “I’ll grab some towels from the linen closet.”

“Yeah sure,” Elle responded while observing the apartment. Inside, was a home fit for a young career woman. Clean minimalist furniture. Books and academic papers were sprawled across the cheap Scandinavian coffee table. A few coffee mugs were scattered around the living room. A blue blanket sprawled across the cushions of the sofa. The same blanket that Elle bought for JJ on one special Christmas.

The brunette shook her head, thinking that it was typical of JJ to keep her place slightly messy. She was brought out of her thoughts when a soft cotton towel was presented to her.

“Thanks, JJ,” Elle said as she tried to dry her hair. The blonde nodded happily as she tried her best to drain water from her hair with another towel in her hand.

“Want something to drink?” JJ asked as she walked into her small kitchen.

“Just some water,” Elle called out. The brunette flopped onto the couch, feeling tired from the day. A minute went by and JJ came back with two glasses filled with water. Elle thanked the blonde when she was given the glass.

“Want to take a shower?” JJ asked innocently. Elle slightly choked on the water.

“Wh- what?”

“A shower. Because you must feel cold from the rain we ran through earlier.” JJ softly laughed at Elle’s outburst. The brunette grumbled.

“Yeah. I’ll take one. Only because I know you’ll make me if I refuse,” Elle said as she got up and made her way to the bathroom. Once the showerhead noises were heard, JJ went to her room to pick out some clothes to share. Once she changed, the blonde knocked on the bathroom door, with a sweatshirt and shorts in hand. Sounds of the shower went by, and Elle opened the door, in a towel and all dewy from the hot steam. A peach blush appeared on JJ’s cheeks, barely noticed by the brunette. In their long years of friendship, JJ hadn’t felt like this about her best friend until eight months ago.

“Thanks.” Elle took the clothes from JJ’s hand and shut the door. The clang from the now-closed door took the blonde out of her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, JJ walked away from the bathroom door. As she passed by a window, onto her way to the living room, her eyes took a peek to see how the weather had been. It had gotten worse. Dark clouds rolled in quickly and the rain got heavier, with the low rumblings of thunder playing songs in the sky. An idea struck JJ’s mind. I should get some candles from the cabinet, in case of a power outage. Arriving at her destination, JJ raided the closet and found her soy candles. As she placed them aside for later, Elle came in from her shower.

“Hey. What are those for?” Elle asked.

“Since the weather is getting worse, I decided to be more prepared. Better to be safe than sorry.” JJ said as she also pulled out a few blankets.

“Since we don’t have anywhere else to go, wanna just Netflix and chill?” Elle proposed. JJ raised an eyebrow at the brunette’s wording.

“Just Netflix and chill? Ha- you could have worded that differently,” JJ said. Elle shrugged and grabbed the remote. The blonde sat next to her friend, making the both of them comfortable with the heavy blanket she brought. For the rest of the afternoon, both Elle and JJ watched one Studio Ghibli movie after another.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As the evening went by, the weather got worse. The rain beat down harder on the asphalt. Trees swayed along with the hard wind. Rolling thunderous sounds moved closer to the area with each passing minute. This was one of the worst thunderstorms this town had ever experienced.

The power went out during the second hour of watching Netflix. In the dark, both Elle and JJ worked their way around the blonde’s apartment, taking out every electrical plug to prevent any accidents. After that job was done, JJ went into the kitchen while Elle started to fold the large blanket they were once under. After the brunette finished, she sat by the window on the leather loveseat, watching the storm rage across the sky. She turned on her phone to the radio, weather reports about the storm softly playing.

“When do you think this is gonna let up?” JJ asked, coming up behind Elle with two mugs filled with water. Elle took a mug and whispered a soft thank you.

“Well, from what the news is telling us, it’s going to be a long night of heavy rain and strong wind,” JJ said as she stared out of the window. Elle sat next to her friend and placed her chin on JJ’s left shoulder. Silence occupied the living room. The pitter-patter of the rain against the windows created music that filled the air. The orange light from the candles set a soft ambiance. Quiet. Peaceful.

“Seems like I won’t make it home tonight,” Elle joked.

“You don’t even have your car here! Besides, the roads are flooded and there are trees blocking said roads,” JJ said, pouting at the brunette’s silly little joke.

“Sorry.” Elle softly smiled. The sounds of laughter rang away, being replaced by silence again. A few minutes went by and JJ got struck with an idea.

“I have something fun for us to do!” JJ said.

“And what’s that?” Elle asked.

“We should make a blanket fort,” JJ said, smiling from her plan. “It’ll be fun! Taking away some of the sadness from the thunderstorm.”

Elle nodded in agreement and the two women started working on the pillow fort. The brunette started by getting the kitchen chairs to build the framework while the blonde looked for more blankets. JJ grabbed her largest white cotton bedsheet as the initial cover.

“Elle, help me with putting this sheet on.” JJ said. Her brunette friend nodded her head and the two women tried their best to gently drape the sheet over the four dining chairs.

“Oh shit. I forgot to get the clothespins.” JJ left the sheet and speed-walked to her small linen closet to gather as many pins she needed. With a handful of some wooden clothespins in her hands, JJ came back to the living room and shared some of the pins with Elle to get the bedsheet draped properly. After the first sheet, the blonde picked a colorful paisley-printed sheet to decorate over the white bedsheet. Both the women worked their way to pin the sheets carefully together and onto the chairs.

“Didn’t know you liked floral patterns.” Elle teased JJ, who typically prided herself to be more of a “tomboy”.

“Shut up.” JJ playfully punched Elle’s right shoulder. The brunette chuckled from the light punch.

After the main structure was built, JJ filled the inside with a plethora of pillows and blankets. With a thick plaid blanket as the foundation, the blonde piled on two more to provide a soft space to sit. Elle grabbed the fuzzy blue blanket off from the couch, so she and JJ could cuddle together with it. Scents of honey and milky french vanilla wafted throughout the living room, reminiscent of untamed yet peaceful meadows of the French countryside. The lit candles glowed against the roof, the paisley patterns being well seen enough to be traced.

Both the women smiled at their creation and entered the little fort. Elle sighed contently as she flopped onto the mountain of pillows. Meanwhile, JJ sat with her chin on her knee. Feeling unsatisfied, the blonde went out of the fort and went to search for something to drink. The coldness from the kitchen tiles clashed against the warmth from JJ’s feet. Opening a cabinet that was leveled to the floor, JJ crouched and looked at the different wines she had in her collection.

“Whatcha getting?” Elle asked loudly.

“Some wine, because why not,” JJ said as she was deciding on which bottle to choose.

“Oh.”

JJ came back to the fort, where Elle sat at the entrance, with a twist-off red Bordeaux wine bottle and two wine glasses in her hands. The blonde handed one of the wine glasses to the brunette and twisted off the closure of the glass bottle, filling both eh glasses halfway with the aged wine.

Both laid on their backs, drank wine, and talked the evening away. From arguing about who would win the next Super Bowl to debating their interpretation of Plato's Republic, the two friends started to reminisce about the journey that took them to where they are now.

“Hey… Remember our college graduation trip down the California coast?” Elle asked. JJ thought for a few seconds. A smile appeared on her warm ivory face.

“Yeah… I do.” A soft smile appeared on the blonde’s face as she started to remember the fond memory.

The blue fire crackled as Elle added a few pieces of salty driftwood to make the bonfire warmer. The brunette went back to sit on the large colorful towel next to her best friend.

“Can’t believe we graduated college,” JJ said as she stared at the night sky. Elle nodded in agreement. “Now we can start our lives. Who knows what will bring.” The blonde rested her head onto the brunette’s shoulder, taking in the scenery of the multiple constellations shining in the night sky.

“Hey, Elle… do you think we’re still gonna be friends? After we go our separate ways?”

“I know we will,” Elle responded.

“You better stay in touch.” JJ playfully punched Elle’s ribs. Elle laughed from the weak punch.

“Don’t worry,” Elle looked at JJ. “I don’t plan on going off the grid anytime soon.” The blonde huffed in annoyance. Elle chuckled lightheartedly. After a while, the crashing of the ocean waves filled the air as the two recent college graduates stargazed for the rest of the night.

“Oh! How about the time you helped me get through a breakup with that New Orleans guy?”

“I remember that,” Elle sighed. “Thank God you’re not in that relationship anymore.”

The blonde cried into the shoulder of her best friend as she hugged the brunette. Elle rubbed circles on JJ’s back to calm her down. The three-year relationship that made JJ so happy now made her so heartbroken.

Elle tried to comfort her friend during the breakup for the past six weeks. She wanted JJ to know that she was more deserving of someone who would treat her better. No more wasting time and tears over someone who did not care about her in the first place.

“JJ, you’re better off without him. Better yet, you deserve better.” Elle said. The blonde sniffled and wiped her tears away. Elle smiled as her friend sat up straight. JJ slowly realized there were other people in the world, and she was more deserving of someone who would treat her better.

“You know what?” JJ said as she looked at Elle. “You are right. I can’t sit and mope around, waiting for something to happen. I need to take charge and show who is boss.”

“You mean girlboss?” Elle asked, with a smirk on her face. JJ laughed.

“Yeah… girlboss.”

“Thanks to you, Elle. I am happy to be single for a year and a half.” JJ said while holding up her wine glass, pretending to take a toast. Elle laughed at her little gesture.

Feeling slightly chilly, JJ pulled her blanket closer to her body, her fingers feeling the softness of the fabric.

“Remember the Christmas that we spent together?: JJ asked.

“Yeah.” Elle felt amused as the soft blue blanket in her hand was reminiscent of the time they spent the holidays together.

“And you gave me this blanket. The best present anyone could have given me.” JJ stated. Elle lifted one of her eyebrows.

“Really?” Elle asked, with a hint of joy in her voice. JJ nodded.

After a while, having a conversation tired their voices. Instead, they sat in silence comfortably. JJ turned her head to face Elle, who had her eyes closed. The blonde took this time to take in the beautiful sight in front of her.

The soft golden glow from the candles highlighted Elle’s olive-toned skin. Her chocolate brown locks perfectly framed her face. The fringe of her bangs fell into her equally beautiful deep amber eyes. She looked good in the grey sweatshirt that she borrowed that evening. JJ’s heart beat faster the more she stared at the beautiful brunette next to her. As far as she knew, Jennifer Jareau was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Elle Greenaway.

The brunette opened her eyes, as she felt like someone was watching her.

“Hey,” JJ said.

“Hey,” Elle replied.

“Had a nice nap?”

“Ha- very funny, Jareau.” Elle playfully slapped the blonde’s shoulder. A few seconds of silence went by before JJ posed a question.

“Wanna play 21 questions?” JJ asked.

“We already know each other, silly.”

“It’s just for fun. What else can we do when the power is out?”

“True. You ask the first question,” Elle said. And so, JJ asked the first question. A simple one. What would your dream house look like? Elle chuckled, knowing that her friend already knew the answer, and responded. This went back and forth between the two women. Until they hit the last number. 21.

JJ took a deep breath and exhaled in nervousness, as it was her turn for the final question.

“What do you wish for in life?”

Elle paused. The silent wait fueled JJ’s anxiety.

“I just want a girl who loves me. The authentic me,” Elle said. The brunette turned her head to face the blonde, who was nervously biting her lips. “And to live with her in an apartment in a city, with a few plants and maybe a cat.”

JJ looked at Elle with loving eyes. To her, she never met the most genuine person in her life. All their late-night adventures, silly arguments, and untold secrets. Led up to this moment. The one that could change the course of their tight friendship.

“I have something to tell you.” JJ said.

“Oooh… Are you about to profess your undying love for me?” Elle joked.

“Yes, I am.”

“.....What?”

“I love you, Elle Greenaway.” Elle looked like a deer in headlights. Her soft pink lips slightly parted as she gasped under her breath. After being in love with her best friend for so long, Elle’s feelings finally got reciprocated.

“I love you too, Jennifer Jareau.” J

oy and relief showed on JJ’s face. For once in her life, she felt sure about what she was doing. And this was something she wanted to last for a lifetime.

Elle lightly brushed some hair out of JJ’s eyes.

“I could stay here forever.” Elle said, softly caressing JJ’s cheek. Slowly, Elle brought her face close to JJ, their noses touching. Her lips softly grazed against JJ’s own in anticipation to what to happen next.

Feelings bit impatient, JJ closed the gap between herself and Elle, gently kissing and savoring their moment in time. After a few seconds, the two women parted, slightly out of breath. Closing her eyes, Elle placed her head on JJ’s left shoulder, a small smile appearing on the taller woman’s face. JJ wrapped her arms around Elle’s body, feeling the warmth engulf her. Both slowly drifted into sound sleep, filled with dreams of what was to come next for their relationship.

taglist: @queer-rambling / @voidreid / @homosexualyearning / @ssajelle / @jemilyology / @pumpkin-stars / @iconicc / @drinkingcroissants / @abbyprentiss / @elizabethxolsen / @lgbtbau / @hotchrocket / @morcias / @sunnymulti

#honeys stories #criminal minds #jennifer jareau #elle greenaway #jelle #jelle fanfiction #jelle fanfic #jennifer jareau x elle greenaway #fanfiction fanfic #wlw yearning #userablake

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m00ns0ng · 4 years ago

Text

Season’s Cummings

As part of the Citrus Dome Server Collab!!

Check out the other pieces here~

The Prompt:

The local news station hailed it as “the storm of the century,” and they weren’t wrong. You’ve watched the snow pile up beyond the window, building from a light dusting on the grass to literal knee-high drifts. And it shows no sign of stopping.

The place you’re stranded is stocked up on groceries, you’d charged every electronic device to your name, and you’d cranked the thermostat as high as it would go until the inevitable happens —

The power goes out.

So now you’re stuck indoors, with only a certain someone for company. The same someone you’ve been pining after for ages. Snow stacks up higher and higher outside. As the cold seeps in, and you both drift closer, you realize this was somehow the one thing you hadn’t thought to prepare for…

Pairings: Aged-up/Prohero Mineta Minoru/f!Reader

Tags: Uhh, it’s Mineta, senpai/kohai kink, generous amounts of drool, pretty vanilla sex, a little bit of feral sex, two horny gremlins mating, once again this is age-up Mineta

“Erm. Grape Juice-senpai, are you sure we’re prepared enough for this?” You eye the lounging prohero, also noting the growing pile of snow in front of the window behind him. Not only that, wind was howling outside and you could occasionally see the window frosting over. It was a bit frightening.

The Prohero Grape Juice, also known as Mineta Minoru, as well as your boss, waves a hand, looking far too lax for the situation. “Hehe, well. I know we’d be a bit snowed in, didn’t think it’d be so…much though.” He frowned and glanced behind himself, before turning back towards you with a leer. “But hey, if it gets too cold, we can just cuddle up for warmth!” His eyes glazed over and you’re pretty sure you see drool. When one of his hands starts to drift down his chest is when you abruptly turn around to smack your cheeks.

Okay, so sue you. You actually liked your lecherous and amorous-inclined boss. When you shyly admitted to your friends that you imagined fucking this bozo of a Prohero, they laughed at you. And if you were in their place, you’d do the same. But damn it, something about him did it for you. Or maybe you had a case of hero worship. He did save you after all. Though he might not remember it, you very much did. And ever since you joined his agency, you got to see sides of him that most others didn’t. After joining UA, you were told about how amazing Class 1A was, and you always felt so awed by them and their impact.

He wasn’t just a pervert and a flirt, he was also someone that wouldn’t hesitate to save others, like a real hero. And he was short, which was totally your type.

Taking a deep breath, you whirled back around to face your boss. Rather than pleasuring himself like his movements would have made you believe, he was on his phone, most likely checking his feed. You made your way to the snack corner. You had both come to this small town in search of some mid-tier villain that was trying to hit small businesses and then leave the city. Due to the fierce weather however, you and Grape Juice’s main priority was to check in to the surprisingly nice hotel you got to stay in for free. While it was worrying, you figured that the villain wouldn’t be able to go anywhere either. Especially now.

When you thought about the whole situation, the fact that you were both snowed in had to mean something.

This is my chance, you thought, securing your favorite brand of chips and a water bottle. For now, you would calm your hormones a bit and chill. Until the boss said so, you were still on company hours, which meant tracking and making sure you guys wouldn’t fail this mission. It’d be embarrassing and demoralizing to have lost to bad weather conditions. After all, Pro Hero Deku wouldn’t let the horrid, freezing weather stop him (for better or worse). If Grape Juice failed to capture such a mid-tier villain, it would tank his reputation, as well as yours.

You grabbed the remote, turned to the news and grabbed your phone. Not that you expected much from the latter. The wifi in this place could be better, and your data wasn’t faring well either.

“Oh hey, you’re actually doing something useful! See, hehe, this is why you’re my favorite sidekick.” Grape Juice rolled himself to the edge of his bed, looking oddly cute as he tugged his comforter with him to look like a grape burrito. “If you can, put a marker for our log in and-”

“Already done, senpai! Just getting the weather report for now. We’ll need to see if we’ll be able to patrol later on tonight.” This was good. When you guys were interacting like the professional heroes you were instead of friends after work, it became easier to actually look him in the eye without fantasizing about him between your legs. “Though truth be told, I’d rather not haha. It’s…going to be so cold.” You curled in on yourself just at the thought.

“Hmm.” When you looked up, you noticed Grape Juice was staring at you with narrowed, unreadable eyes, but then quickly switched his attention to the news report. Rather than analyze his weirdness, you also chose to focus on the news.

“…And we’re hearing that the snowstorm is going to worsen the more the night drags on. How upsetting for those out looking for some nice snow festivities.” Hmph, not surprising. Thankfully, you guys were staying at a pretty nice hotel, with room service and everything. “No, actually…We’re receiving word that this just may be the storm of the century, folks. With inches of snow piling up by the minutes.”

What? You furrowed your brow and looked out the window just in time to see the last bits of twilight disappear behind snow. “What?!” You leapt up from the bed and went to the window. You swore you could hear the window itself creaking from the amount of snow piled onto it. Which was a horrifying thought, because… because you and Grape Juice were on the third floor. This could not be happening.

“Well,” Grape Juice pushed himself up on his knees. You tried not to notice how he only came up to your collarbone because of that. You couldn’t help but notice all the cute things about him. And Grape Juice outside of his ridiculous hero costume was really, really cute. He had the style, the smug swagger, and the sexual intensity of a horny, touch-starved gremlin. And you would deliver the touch he so desperately wanted. “At least we’re good here! Heh, can’t say the same for that villain though. Probably shaking in their boots. Literally!”

You let his bravado wash over you, slumping your shoulders in relief. “To be real with you, I’m also shaking in my boots. But from the cold! Ya know?” You gave him a nervous smile and skipped back to your bed. “I’m surprised you’re okay with wearing just a t-shirt and shorts right now.”

“It’s because I’m a Pro!” He threw the comforter off of himself and proudly thrust his arms out. “And I’m your boss. What kind of example would I be setting if I was heavily decked out in winter gear?”

“A responsible one..?” You stared at him in confusion, and went back to eating your snacks. “I mean, you’re not like Shouto.” Fuck, he might take that the wrong way. “N-not that I mean any disrespect, senpai!” Grape Juice flinched and then shuddered. And you, you frowned. Had your comment stung that badly? You didn’t really care about the top three Heroes in all honesty. Nothing against them, but nothing from their flashy quirks and intense personalities really appealed to you.

You turned away from him and adjusted the sleeve of your winter sweater. You could hear him falling back onto his bed. Should you apologize? Or just go back to eating your chips and pretending this moment never happened? Ah, screw this.

Your butt met the edge of your bed, and you turned your attention back to the news.

“And that’s not all! We’re hearing that this snowstorm won’t be receding any time soon. How horrifying, haha!” Who on earth laughs at such an abysmal scenario?? You reached around your bed and grabbed your phone. Even though it was fully charged, you couldn’t help but be dismayed at the shitty reception. You huffed, and then turned your ire towards the newscaster. “We hope everyone has been stocking up on resources, because it seems like-” But whatever the newscaster had been going to say was interrupted by the power going out. The loud thrum of the power outage made you pause. And then you jumped up. From somewhere on your left, you heard Grape Juice do the same.

“Ah…well then.” He let out a nervous chuckle, and then a muffled curse.

“Senpai? Are you okay?!” You heard him let out a grunt, and then suddenly he was touching you. Or your arms, more specifically. Your breath hitched, and you hoped he didn’t notice.

“Yep! The Prohero Grape Juice can handle the dark.” His hands slipped from your arms to hold onto your hands. “If anything, I should be asking if you’re okay!”

You smiled. “I’m perfectly fine, senpai. But um, what are we going to do now?” His hand clenched down on yours, and you swore you could see something dark cross over his eyes, before he abruptly turned away from you.

“Can’t do it,” You heard him mutter, and your smile fell away.

“Mm? Can’t do what, senpai?” You moved to stand in front of him again, tilting your head this way and that, but you couldn’t catch his eyes. “You know, if there’s a-anything you want from me, just ask! I’ll be happy to provide.” You reached out a hand again to at least provide some physical comfort, but he jumped out of the way before you could.

“Anything, huh?” He finally met your eyes, and you blinked at the sheer intensity in his gaze. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that. Don’t you know that a guy like me enjoys it a bit too much?!”

Silence.

Well, partial silence. You could still hear the wind howling outside. But you were more focused on dissecting what you just heard. He liked it when you called him senpai? This whole time…

You licked your lips. “What if,” There’s no going back now. “What if I also like you, senpai?”

Of all the reactions you were expecting, him glaring wasn’t one of them. “You shouldn’t joke about that kind of stuff. I get it, I’m a lame Pro, but I still have feelings!”

“I do like you like though?” Fuck, you hadn’t meant to phrase it as a question. So you pushed forward. “I mean it! You’re the one I looked up to whenever I would hear about your class! And it’s your agency I wanted to join once I graduated!” By now, you were so close to him that he had no choice but to look at you, and the shadows on his face stood out.

But rather than get angrier, he blinked, and his expression cleared. “Ah, w-wait! This isn’t a prank or anything, right?! Y-you want me?” You stared at your boss. Really stared at him. He didn’t look like a sex-crazy gremlin, or the slightest bit horny. His eyes had lost their light, his lips were curled down, and he was rubbing his arm. He looked like the Minoru Mineta from the first time you met him, not sure if you actually wanted to join his agency. “I know I’m not the best Pro, or the most virtuous, but.” His brows furrowed, and he looked up at you with a renewed vigor. “But I want to make you feel good, if you’ll let me!” He slammed both his palms together and bowed his head, careful to keep his hair from touching you.

Something soft filled you, and you reached out a hand, placing it under his chin and tilting his head up. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself, senpai.” You smiled brightly. “After all, I chose to work with my cute senpai because I like your work ethic, and your determination. Not everyone wants to be on top!” You let your other hand come up and pet his cheek. “Truth be told, I’ve wanted you for quite some time now, senpai.” His eyes widened, and then watered at an incredible speed. “Aha, wait! Please don’t cry!”

He loudly sniffled. “Man, if I had known that I had a cute little kohai that wanted me from the beginning, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time staring at your fanpages!”

You pulled away to stare down at him. “My what?”

“Anyways!” He practically shouted, “We gonna do this or what?” You smirked and made your way to his bed.

“Well, I’m happy you asked, Mineta-senpai.” You shimmied out of your pants, then panties. You held your panties up and watched the way Mineta’s eyes tracked them as he jumped onto the bed. “Let’s make this a little fun. If I cum before you do, then you can keep my panties. As a souvenir!” His eyes glazed over, and a copious amount of drool began to slide out of his mouth and pool on the sheets between you both. You tried not to be too bothered. You knew he would be at least a bit filthy, and if all went well, the sheets would be ruined one way or another.

Mineta took off his clothes with a speed and ferocity that probably should have stunned you. “Lay down, and let your favorite Prohero Grape Juice take care of you!” You giggled and complied, relaxing your arms and legs as you laid out. You let your panties dangle on the tips of your fingers before you dropped them. Mineta immediately situated himself between your legs, muttering to himself. While he did that, you took your shirt and bra off as well.

You tried your best to keep your breath even, but the moment you felt his touch on your thighs, it hitched. You waited with bated breath for his touch, and when you felt his tongue licking-no, slobbering all over your slit, you squealed. Your legs clamped around his head, but he managed to wriggle his way even closer, tongue circling around your clit before slipping into your opening, and then back again. His tongue was so wet, but once you got past that, you could admit that it also felt good. Relaxing back against the pillows, you spread your legs again and let out a quiet sigh.

Mineta moaned, and the rumble against your clit felt nice enough that you joined him. Soon enough, his fingers joined his tongue, and you panted and squirmed as his fingers-not that long, but definitely thick-thrust in and out of you at a slow, steady pace. “Mm, senpai, you feel so nice.” He leaned forward, his saliva dripping onto your chest, up to your neck, and finally onto your cheeks.

You were sharing each other’s breath now.

“Haaa, that’s what I should be saying.” His pace quickened, and your pleasure grew. “My cute little kohai is clenching down on my fingers. Clenching down on me.” You panted out as his fingers curled and scissored inside of you. “Ahh, I can’t wait anymore!” He pulled his fingers out of you quickly and you didn’t even get a chance to react before his dick was slipping in. “Forget the stupid bet!” His hands kept a brutal grip on your hips, keeping you in place. Mostly. The power of his thrusts had you slipping up the bed, and you were very grateful the pillows were there.

“O-oh!” Your hands clenched into the bedsheets as he hammered into you. His pace didn’t slow down, and he didn’t relent in his intensity. One of his hands left your hips to slip into your mouth.

“Suck,” He groaned out, and then whined when you obeyed. “Such a good little kohai I have. You’d do anything for your senpai, huh?” He pushed down on your tongue. Even in the dark, you could see his eyes holding lust and a deep admiration. “You, you like me for me. A-and you don’t care about my reputation.” You closed your eyes and bobbed your head on his fingers. He let out another groan, slipping his fingers out of your mouth to rub them on your clit. You arched up and let out an embarrassingly loud moan. You really hoped no one heard that.

“Are you close, baby? Gonna cum for your favorite Pro? Gonna let me k-keep y-” Mineta curled over you, shoving his face into your chest. “Dammit, how am I supposed to last long when your pussy is clenching down on me like this?!” His pace slowed, his hips jerking at a tell-tale uneven pace. You giggled and leaned down to kiss him. His tongue was in your mouth instantly, running over your teeth, curling around your tongue, and then thrusting in and out. It was sloppy, and with his fingers still on your clit, with him still pressing into you, it was also fucking hot.

You were going to cum, and you didn’t even care. The panties were just an incentive anyways. You got to fuck your senpai, and make him happy. A win-win for the both of you.

You broke away from the kiss, just barely aware of the string of drool that connected your mouths. “Mineta-senpai, I’m going to-”

“Cum?!” His excitement was cute enough that you didn’t mind that he cut you off. You met his thrusts as best as you could rolling your hips so he could fuck that particular spot inside of you that made you toes curl and eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Yes, yes yes yes yes yes!” For a long moment, you felt perfect. The burst of pleasure that rocked your whole body and left you boneless as your senpai kept fucking you, whimpering as he sucked on your tit. Not even your nipple, your tit. You inhaled as he released your hips to wrap his arms around you, and it was only due to his small size that you didn’t mind. Your head fell back, eyesight a bit wonky from the intensity of the orgasm that just rocked through you. Mineta, apparently not yet satisfied, continued thrusting into you, stupidly powerful thrusts making you clench and squeal. “Mineta-senpai, you’re…the best.”

“Hehe, yeah. I’m the best. I AM THE BEST!” His hands gripped your hips with a newfound ferocity and he flipped you over partially, leaving you confused and a bit dazed in the dark. One of his hands left your hips to grab his dick, and he aimed it right for your fluttering opening.

“S-senpai, wait,” Your weak cry fell on deaf ears.

“Plus,” The manic drive of a Hero pushed him forward. “ULTRA!!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So!” The receptionist gave you a bright smile, “Did you both enjoy your stay at Reaching Heights Hotel?”

You let your (grumpy) silence speak for itself, while Grape Juice sheepishly handed her his card. “It, haha, definitely helped me regain my drive!” The receptionist blinked at him, and then gave him a placid smile that only a front desk attendant could. And his card back. “Soooo thankyounowwehavetogobyeandsorryforthestains!”

You eyed Grape Juice as he turned to scurry away, and kicked your foot out, tripping him. Immediately taking advantage of his disoriented state, you snatched his card up and smirked down at him. You’re not quite sure how you look in that moment, but you are sure you liked that wide-eyed, vulnerable expression on his face.

“Next time,” You murmur, “I get to be the one on top, squeezing every last drop out of you, senpai.”

#Mineta Minoru x Reader #reader smut #citrus dome collab #whew boy #this is #yeah #bnha x reader

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bloody-bee-tea · 4 years ago

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BeeTober 2020 Day 19

Dagger - Windy

Day 19 of BeeTober 2020 has more Sangcheng in store, because I might just be weak for those two. So have some pining and love confessions!

Jiang Cheng isn’t sure which gods he usually has to blame for putting him into these situations where he is alone with Nie Huaisang and where he wants to do nothing more than pull him close and kiss the ever-living hell out of him, but at least this time Jiang Cheng knows to blame the weather gods.

It was just a windy afternoon, at least right until Nie Huaisang had entered his apartment and then it turned into a full-blown vicious storm.

Of course Nie Huaisang wouldn’t go back home in this weather.

Of course Jiang Cheng never would let him.

But that leads him to his current predicament, where Nie Huaisang is pacing in his living-room, worrying about Nie Mingjue who had left to see Lan Xichen shortly before Nie Huaisang himself left, and Jiang Cheng decided half an hour ago that sitting on his hands might be the safer option.

At least like that he can’t easily reach out and silence Nie Huaisang in a very different way than simply snapping at him.

Jiang Cheng lets out a silent sigh of relief when Nie Huaisang stops pacing and throws himself into the couch.

“You know, your brother is a grown man,” Jiang Cheng finally says and Nie Huaisang glares at him over his ever-present fan, even though Jiang Cheng has no idea where he usually keeps it. “He can take care of himself. And I doubt Lan Xichen will let him go home in this weather.”

“He better not,” Nie Huaisang says darkly and Jiang Cheng doesn’t even want to imagine what will happen to Lan Xichen if he does let Nie Mingjue leave.

“Doesn’t Lan Xichen love your brother? Do you really think he’d willingly put Nie Mingjue in danger by allowing him to go home?” Jiang Cheng asks and when Nie Huaisang simply hums, Jiang Cheng goes cold.

He shouldn’t have said that. He didn’t allow Nie Huaisang to go home either, and he doesn’t want Nie Huaisang to read anything into that.

Even though it would be the truth.

“Speaking of love,” Nie Huaisang says and Jiang Cheng freezes at his side.

He managed to keep his stupid feelings to himself for so long, and if this is how it all gets out, he’s going to throw himself out of the nearest window.

“Let’s not,” Jiang Cheng bites out, but Nie Huaisang is looking at him from over his fan and Jiang Cheng knows that it’s futile.

Nie Huaisang is like a bloodhound who caught a particular interesting scent.

“I heard some interesting news,” Nie Huaisang goes on, not even bothering to pretend that he hesitates, even just for Jiang Cheng’s sake.

Jiang Cheng groans because this is really not how he intended to spend his afternoon with Nie Huaisang.

“What could you have possibly heard?” Jiang Cheng wants to know, because he’s like eighty percent sure that Nie Huaisang doesn’t know that Jiang Cheng is in love with him.

Jiang Cheng knows that Nie Huaisang wouldn’t be as calm as this, if it was the case. He would probably be yelling at Jiang Cheng already, accusing him of betraying their friendship and throwing a good thing away.

Jiang Cheng is not looking forward to losing Nie Huaisang as a friend, and so he stayed quiet about his stupid feelings.

“Wei Wuxian mentioned that you are in love,” Nie Huaisang finally says with a strange voice and Jiang Cheng immediately has to fight the urge to kill his brother.

“I’m going to kill him,” Jiang Cheng mutters, and very pointedly does not look at Nie Huaisang.

“So it’s true?” Nie Huaisang asks, clearly trying for cheeky and only managing to sound strangled and Jiang Cheng eyes him.

“How about you?” he asks instead of answering, desperately trying to change the subject, to turn Nie Huaisang’s acute focus away from him.

Though Jiang Cheng isn’t sure it was clever to give the question back, because he doesn’t actually want to hear anything about Nie Huaisang being in love with someone else.

Still, he forces himself to go on.

“Are you in love?”

Nie Huaisang scoffs and then snaps his fan close. Jiang Cheng is surprised by how bitter he seems all of a sudden.

“And what does it matter?” Nie Huaisang wants to know and Jiang Cheng frowns at him.

“Why shouldn’t it matter?” he gives back, honestly confused by Nie Huaisang’s reaction.

“Even if I am, nothing would come of it anyway,” Nie Huaisang says, and Jiang Cheng’s heart stumbles painfully at his words.

He wants to ask, wants Nie Huaisang to elaborate on that first part, but he also doesn’t want to hear this, and in the end Nie Huaisang goes on before Jiang Cheng can make up his mind.

“It’s not like I’m a catch, especially compared to all of you, so it doesn’t matter if I am in love or not. No one is falling all over themselves to be with me,” Nie Huaisang says with a shrug, but he avoids looking at Jiang Cheng who simply stares at him.

“Are you stupid?” Jiang Cheng finally blurts out and Nie Huaisang whips his head around so fast, Jiang Cheng half expects him to make a snapping sound like usually only his fan makes.

“What?” Nie Huaisang asks and Jiang Cheng takes two deep breaths to calm himself down, because he wants to yell at whoever made Nie Huaisang believe that he’s not a catch.

“Huaisang, you are a catch,” Jiang Cheng says, still trying to sort through his own thoughts, but when Nie Huaisang only answers him with a scoffed “Yeah, right,” Jiang Cheng decides to fuck it.

“You are the most perceptive, emotionally intelligent and determined person I have ever known. Despite how you pretend to not be any good in the family business I sure as hell know that it’s not Nie Mingjue who argues everyone into submission and you would probably burn the world down for those you love. That you’re beautiful doesn’t hurt in the least, and I do not ever want to hear you say that you’re not a catch again!”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes get bigger and bigger the longer Jiang Cheng speaks and by the end he’s openly gaping at Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng doubts that he has ever seen Nie Huaisang less composed than right now.

“A-Cheng,” Nie Huaisang whispers and Jiang Cheng can feel a very traitorous blush creep up his cheeks.

“What?” he snaps, immediately uncomfortable with how much he just revealed to Nie Huaisang and he wishes he had something to hide behind as well.

“Say, A-Cheng,” Nie Huaisang starts, his fan snapping into place again and Jiang Cheng wishes he could tear it out of his hands, because he hates how much Nie Huaisang hides behind it. “Would you date me?” Nie Huaisang then asks and Jiang Cheng abruptly stands up.

He doesn’t take more than two steps away from the couch, but he puts his back towards Nie Huaisang and honestly debates simply lying to him.

But with what Nie Huaisang had just revealed about himself—how badly he thinks of himself—Jiang Cheng knows he could never do that.

“Yes,” he finally says and he is not at all prepared for the bitter laugh Nie Huaisang lets out.

“Maybe try to sound more convincing next time,” he mutters, sounding strangled all over again. “And not hesitating for so long.”

Every other time Jiang Cheng would have let him believe this, if only to save their friendship, but not now. Not now, that he knows just how little Nie Huaisang thinks of himself.

Jiang Cheng would rather destroy their friendship by revealing his true feelings than let Nie Huaisang think this for one more second.

“You know,” Jiang Cheng says and turns around to glare at Nie Huaisang, “I actually did lie.”

He pretends not to see the full body flinch and instead simply continues.

“I said you’re perceptive and emotionally intelligent, but clearly that’s not true. You’re so goddamn stupid, Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang opens his mouth as if he wants to argue with Jiang Cheng, but Jiang Cheng isn’t done, so he doesn’t let him speak.

“I’ve been in love with you for years now. Of course I would date you. I would do anything to make you happy!”

Only silence follows his confession—like Jiang Cheng knew it would, and still it hurts worse than if Nie Huaisang had thrown a dagger at him—and he turns away again.

“I know it’s not what you feel for me, but despite everything, please don’t leave. It’s dangerous outside. I’ll take the guest room and you can just—you know where everything is,” Jiang Cheng mutters and starts to walk away from Nie Huaisang.

He didn’t even have the courage to look at Nie Huaisang when he confessed his feelings, and he doesn’t have the courage to look at him now, so he startles badly when something hits him between the shoulder blades.

Jiang Cheng stares dumbly at the ground and then he slowly turns towards Nie Huaisang.

“Did you just throw your fan at me?” he asks, but that’s as far as he gets before Nie Huaisang crashes into him.

Jiang Cheng brings his arms up around Nie Huaisang to hug him close almost on instinct and then buries his face in Nie Huaisang’s hair, because he simply can’t help himself.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Cheng asks when Nie Huaisang doesn’t give an explanation for his behaviour.

“You’re so stupid, too,” Nie Huaisang says and then looks up at Jiang Cheng.

He’s smiling so brightly that Jiang Cheng’s heart skips several beats.

“What?” Jiang Cheng asks and Nie Huaisang squeezes him.

“I’m in love with you. You’re not really perceptive yourself.”

“Well, we were talking about you, weren’t we?” Jiang Cheng gives back, but he feels like he could fly away if Nie Huaisang lets go of him.

He hopes Nie Huaisang will never again let go of him, his words that he’s in love with Jiang Cheng sinking into his bones like a warm blanket, and Jiang Cheng presses him even closer to his chest.

“Say it again?” he asks Nie Huaisang who raises up on his tiptoes to sling his arms around Jiang Cheng’s neck.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispers against Jiang Cheng’s ears and Jiang Cheng can’t help himself, he bends slightly down and simply picks Nie Huaisang up.

“A-Cheng!” Nie Huaisang screeches, but Jiang Cheng only laughs as Nie Huaisang slings his legs around his middle.

“I love you, too,” he says, just in case Nie Huaisang needs to hear it again as well, and then he can’t say anything else because Nie Huaisang’s lips are warm and tempting against his own.

He does put Nie Huaisang down on the ground again eventually, but Jiang Cheng keeps him close and doesn’t stop touching him. He doubts he could, with how much he had to keep himself restrained before.

When they are back on the couch, Nie Huaisang completely pressed against Jiang Cheng, who keeps his arms around him, Nie Huaisang moves his finger over Jiang Cheng’s chest.

“I’m not going anywhere, you know,” Nie Huaisang whispers and looks up at Jiang Cheng. “You don’t have to cling so hard.”

Jiang Cheng has half a mind letting go of Nie Huaisang, but then he decides that he’ll simply have to deal with this.

“I know,” Jiang Cheng agrees, “but I think I’ll keep doing it for now.”

“Okay, then,” Nie Huaisang says, and he sounds very pleased by that, so Jiang Cheng has even less incentive to stop touching him.

“You’re not staying in the guest room, right?” Nie Huaisang asks after another comfortable silence and Jiang Cheng shrugs as best as he can in this position.

“If you’re staying there, then I just might,” he replies and Nie Huaisang laughs at that.

“I should hope so,” he says between his chuckles and Jiang Cheng bends to kiss the laughter right out of his mouth.

When they keep trading kisses, Jiang Cheng can’t help but to think that this time he definitely has to thank the weather gods for giving him the best thing in his life.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #beetober 2020 #untamed fall fest #the untamed #mdzs #sangcheng #modern au #getting together #love confessions #pining #first kiss #fluff #hurt/comfort #self-esteem issues #and not from the one you think

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chokemeanakin · 4 years ago

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Bad Dream- Anakin Skywalker x gn Reader (angst + fluff)

Summary: Reader has a bad dream during a thunderstorm and goes to Anakin for help

WC: 2.2k

Masterlist

Reader it in ao3

You had fallen asleep to the distant grumbling of the sky. Weather reports had all pointed to a storm during the night, and although you were not afraid of thunder, you were inclined to sleep through it so you could catch up on some much needed rest. Unfortunately, your subconscious had other plans.

You’re not sure when the tossing and turning started, but it must have been around the same time your head was filled with disturbing images, dark scenarios, dreams that made your pulse race and your body break out into a cold sweat. It was one of those dreams where you felt like you were drowning in a box with no way out, running from something when your legs refused to move, trying to save someone but they were just out of reach.

A deafening clap of thunder had you shooting upright in bed.

It took you a moment to realize where you were. The room was dark, the surroundings of your room illuminated in flickers as lightning flashed across the sky outside. Thick pellets of rain hammered against the windows, like millions of tiny pebbles attempting to break through the glass.

While normally it would have calmed you, now it heightened your unease. The whole world seemed to groan in rage outside, and you were still desperately trying to pull yourself out of the frightening dream you just had.

You were no stranger to nightmares-- you knew how to ground yourself after the particularly bad ones. But your fingers were too numb from gripping the bed sheets to feel anything else, your eyes unable to pick anything up but the eerie shadows in the corner of the room as irregular veins of lightning struck the ground, ears deafened by the rain and rumbling of the storm. Your head felt like it had been doused in lava, heart pounding in your chest. You were trapped, being swallowed up by darkness, falling back into that dream, back into that nightmare--

Another clap of thunder had the wall decorations shaking and you shooting to your feet, heading toward the door. You weren’t sure where you were planning on going, just that you had to get out of there before you suffocated for real. Peals of thunder followed you into the living area, unrelenting and loud enough to make your ears ring. The glass decorations on the windowsill rattled with tension, bright white flashes causing spots to form in your vision. You could barely hear yourself think, and a very real fear that the sky was actually opening up and falling down had you bolting for your door, heading across the hall of the Jedi temple to Anakin’s room.

You wandered through his living space on unsteady legs, falling into furniture and tripping over chairs in the dark. With each explosion of thunder, you sunk deeper into yourself, hugging your arms around your middle and bracing for impact. His door was cracked open an inch, and you nudged it open wider so that you could slip into the room.

You weren’t even sure he would be in here. He often worked late into the night, running around the temple halls, working on his starfighter, or deployed on a mission. If worse came to worse, you were just planning on sleeping in his sheets like you did when you missed him… except when you approached the bed, he was in it, and he was fast asleep.

You studied his face between flashes of light. He looked peaceful, face relaxed and breathing even. How he could sleep through a monstrosity of a storm like this, you would never know… especially since he usually wasn’t a very deep sleeper. He must have been beyond exhausted after his Jedi duties today if he wasn’t waking up, especially sensing your troubled presence nearby, and it only made you feel worse for disturbing his rest. But before you could work up the courage to leave, his eyebrows twitched, lips twisting into a frown before his eyes fluttered open.

Upon seeing you, he pushed himself up onto his forearms, blanket slipping down to reveal his bare chest. He squinted at you, still very much half asleep but reaching to take your hand in his anway.

“Wh’s wrong?”

You suddenly felt very childish. How were you supposed to complain of a nightmare to Anakin Skywalker, the literal king of terrifying prophetic dreams? What would he think of you if he knew you had come running to him because a simple thunderstorm had spooked you? What was he even supposed to do about it anyway?

Your hesitance worried him, so he reached out with the force to gage your emotions. Scared, uneasy, disturbed-- but not so much of the furious storm overhead, but of something else, something deeper. You had been shaken to the core, tormented by something that left your mind restless and body quivering in his touch. He had had enough experience to know exactly what was going on.

“Bad dream?”

You ducked your head to study your bare feet, ashamed. “The thunder doesn’t help.”

“C’mere,” he scoot across the bed, peeling back the covers for you to get in. You crawled into his bed clumsily, collapsing onto the pillows as he tucked them back up over you. The rain was still pounding mercilessly into the windows, the sky waging armageddon, but the pillows smelled like Anakin and he was right next to you, a formidable, calming presence despite the warzone outside.

He immediately gathered you into his arms, cradling you against his chest and resting his cheek on top of your head. You breathed in his scent, basking in his warmth. All of the fear and worries from the storm outside seemed to melt away. All that was left was the incessant reminders of your disturbing dream, replaying in your mind as if on a tape-reel. Every time you tried to close your eyes, to relax fully into Anakin and let him just hold you in his strong arms, the images would come back. It had you pent up with frustration, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep like Anakin seemed to be doing again, but you just couldn’t. You were too afraid that you might slip back into that dark place, and have to relive what had plagued your mind before.

You felt Anakin’s head lift off yours. He studied you for a moment, eyebrows drawn down in concern.

“Alright, come with me. We’re going on an adventure.”

You watched Anakin unwrap himself around you and then get out of bed, waiting for you to do the same. Slowly, you pushed yourself back onto your feet, taking the hand he held out for you and letting him lead you into the kitchen. He motioned for you to sit at one of the chairs of the island, and then left you there to reach into the cupboard and retrieve a couple of mugs.

“Tea? Tea is your idea of an adventure?” You teased, spinning slightly on the spinny chair.

“When it’s 3am the roof is about to cave in because of a storm, yes. It’s an adventure.”

He flicked the oven on and a flame burst out of the stovetop. He placed the tea kettle on top, then lazily waved his hand in the air to call the teabags over to him. Then he leant his forearms against the counter, bowing his head and yawning as he waited for the water to heat up.

You felt terrible for keeping him awake.

“I can make the tea,” you offered, and he lifted his head to raise an eyebrow at you. “So you can go back to bed, I mean.”

A sudden boom of thunder clapped overhead, shaking the walls and causing you to flinch involuntarily. He looked at the ceiling as this happened, listening to the aching sky grumble an apology for the attack.

“And sleep through a storm like this? Now that’d be a shame.”

You knew he was only saying this for your sake, and you loved him for it. Still, it didn’t ease the guilt you felt as you watched him take the whistling kettle off the flame, pouring it into the mugs with one hand while rubbing his eye with the other.

“Don’t feel guilty, my love. I’m more than willing to stay up with you if you can’t sleep.”

“You must be exhausted though,” you accepted the mug he held out for you.

“I’m alright.”

You pouted. The temple shuddered with another round of explosive claps of thunder, lightning flickering through the blinds. Suddenly the low hum of the space heaters went silent, and a foreboding click sounded as everything shut down.

“Did the power just go out?” You eyed the blank screen of the microwave, where it used to show the time.

“Good timing,” he handed you honey for your tea. “Don’t worry, it should be back on by morning. The temple maintenance workers are more than prepared for stuff like this.”

“I’m not worried… just surprised. It’s a very violent storm, isn’t it?”

He nodded, thumbing the rim of his mug. His deep breaths, the slow blinks, the slurred words. He was about to fall asleep standing up, and you’d be damned if you didn’t do something about it.

“Let’s go to the couch,” you suggested, and pushed yourself off the spinny chair. He followed you into the living area, sitting next to you as you curled up into his side again, hugging the mug between your hands and letting the steam melt across your face. Instinctively, he put his arm around you and let you rest your head on his shoulder.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked after a moment, staring out the rain-spattered window at the blurry city lights below. “Your dream I mean?”

“I… can’t really remember it anymore,” you answered truthfully. The longer you stayed awake, the more the dream slipped from your memory. A blessing, only tainted by the feelings it left in its wake. The fear and dread remained, though the dream in itself was gone.

“It bothers you still.”

“Only a little,” you took a sip of your tea. “But this is nice.”

Lightning shot across the sky, reaching its hands out like it was searching for something across the horizon. More tendrils branched out in every direction, crawling across the skyline and illuminating the room in a pale blue light. You counted the seconds until the thunder hit: 1...2...3…

“Storm’s right overhead,” Anakin noted, thumb stroking the skin of your arm.

“It better not kill us.”

“I won’t let it kill you,” he chuckled deeply.

“You won’t let it?” You pulled back to look at him. “I hate to break it to you, but I think Mother Nature does what she wants.”

“You forget, I control an important part of nature.”

Your mug lifted from your fingers suddenly, floating into his hand instead. He took a sip of your tea, winking lazily.

“Hey,” you laughed, reaching for your mug as he held it over his head with a teasing smile. You were too tired to fight him for it though, so you rolled your eyes with mock exasperation, holding his chin steady so you could kiss him instead.

His lips were pliant beneath yours, and tasted sweet like the honey. You licked the taste off of them, and his arm lowered without him realizing it so he could focus on the feel of you. You took the opportunity to grab your mug back, pulling away before he could realize what you’d done.

“Dirty tactic,” he mused. “I’d even go as far as to say… cheater.”

“Yeah, yeah, like you don’t use your fancy Jedi tricks to peek at my deck every time we play cards.”

“You have no proof.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” you finish your tea, setting it down on the coffee table before you and nuzzling your head back into Anakin’s neck. “So it’s only fair that you cut me some slack.”

“Just this once,” he appeased, tilting his head so that it was resting on yours again.

You felt much better now than you had before. As the storm came to a head, Anakin held you through it. It was impossible to be frightened of the loud noises and sinister peals of lightning when he was holding you. The sluggish funk that the nightmare had left you with also faded away, and all that was left was the scent of Anakin, the feel of his warm skin beneath your cheek, and the taste of him on your lips. Before long, you had nodded off on his shoulder.

He stayed awake until he was certain you were sleep, watching the raindrops race each other down the window pane. Shortly after the space heaters powered back to life, he turned his head to see your eyes closed, lips slightly parted, fast asleep against him. Carefully, he shifted you into his arms so that he could carry you back to bed without you waking.

Although he was beyond the point of exhaustion, he slept better than ever that night knowing you were beside him, safe in his embrace and contentedly resting now that your fears had been washed away. A few hours of missed sleep was worth it if it meant making sure you would be okay, and he knew that you would do the same for him without a doubt.

#did i really just write shirtless ani and NOT mention his abs???#shit i guess there is something wrong with me #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin fic #star wars fic #anakin fluff #anakin angst #anakin skywalker

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elsanna-shenanigans · 4 years ago

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June Contest Submission #3: Saved On A Rainy Day

Words: ca. 5,500 Setting: mAU Lemon: lime CW: None

Anna stares out the window, her reflection staring back at her on the rain-covered glass. Huddled in a fortress of blankets, she watches the droplets slowly fall to the windowpane before a flash of light catches her attention. Looking out to the front yard now, Anna waits for something to happen again, her blue gaze drawn to the swirling black and grey clouds that seem to stretch endlessly across the sky. Then a heavy roll of thunder makes the window rattle. Unable to suppress her panic and fear, the young girl parts from her blankets and clumsily drops to the floor. She runs as fast as she can to her older sister’s bedroom door and opens the door.

“Anna?” Elsa’s disturbed tired voice groans out from under her own blankets when Anna invades her bed space. Like the good big sister she is, she sits up to look down at the 5-year-old joining her and opens her arms for Anna to fall into.

“Is it the storm?” She questions, only to get no verbal reply. It isn’t the warmth Anna is looking for, just the comfort. So, Elsa gives a small yawn and wraps her arms around Anna before laying back down into the pillows. Another roll of thunder rumbles by, ignored by Elsa while Anna holds on tighter until Elsa’s small hand gently runs through her ginger hair. The trembling ebbs away, as does the sound of thunder, allowing Anna to finally relax and loosen her grip around Elsa.

__________________________________

Elsa, now 18 and feeling more isolated from her family than ever, stares gloomily at the rainy world outside. Part of her had expected Anna to already be knocking on her door before the thunder really started going, but her closed door has remained a wall since lunch. After her small freak-out session this morning where an anxiety attack had gotten away from her, she doesn’t blame them for keeping their distance. Space had become her greatest friend and most formidable enemy. Anna used to keep these anxieties and fears at bay, but as of recently, she’s been making them worse.

She doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. One morning, after waking up to Anna in her bed from a storm she had completely slept through, everything just kind of changed. Something strange and different fluttered in her heart, something that made her anxious and happy at the same time, which also made her afraid. Emotions kept coming in intense amounts, and what she had felt waking up to none other than her sister, she would rather not feel again.

Sudden knocking on her door jerks Elsa from her thoughts. She whips her head away from the window to stare at the door as if she might be able to see through it if she stared hard enough. However, that vision to determine who might be behind the door wouldn’t come. If it’s her parents, she wants to stay quiet in case they plan to have another long discussion, but if it’s Anna… Well, there’s just no way she can refuse the younger girl on a night like this. Even with her emotions the way they are.

So, Elsa gets to her feet and hesitantly treads over to the door, where she turns off the light switch nearby and slowly opens it. Just as she does so, she finds Anna starting to walk away, her head hung in disappointment.

“Anna? Is it the storm?” Her voice spooks the girl, who jumps away and then quickly turns back to Elsa’s door while her blankets attempt to trip her. Elsa opens the door wider so she could reach forward and catch her sister if need be.

“I wasn’t sure you were still awake.”

“Since when do you knock during storms?” Erasing her gloomy look, Elsa fixes Anna with a sly smirk and leans against her door frame. Something about that must have either caught Anna off guard or… something, for before she could say anything, she actually trips forward. Like Elsa was prepared for, she reaches out to catch the young teen in her cold sleeveless arms.

“Sorry…” Regardless of her clumsy self, Anna gives an embarrassed smile, her gaze cast away.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve always got you. Now, come on in, before-” The loud rumble of thunder she had been waiting for interrupts her. The rain seems to pound harder against the house afterward, too, making the hallway light flicker. In an instant, Anna has abandoned her blanket and is clinging on tight to Elsa.

Without another word, Elsa pulls her sister into the room and gently closes the door behind herself with her foot, completely disregarding the blanket. Anna is trembling against Elsa, her fingers almost painfully digging into her sides. It isn’t new for Anna to cry in moments like these, but it always makes Elsa worry for her. When she drops back onto her bed, Elsa softly caresses the young girl’s hair just in the way that would get her to start calming down.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re going to be okay.” Elsa’s calming words successfully get Anna to stop trembling so much, but they don’t do anything to stop her crying. This is just going to be one of those really bad nights for her… Curse the awful weather here. Not that Elsa minded any of this. She has gotten so used to it that it would be a rough night for her as well if she doesn’t know that Anna is okay. She hates to see Anna in so much distress. Another loud rumble and the silent crack of light outside her windows, and Anna is clinging tight to her again.

“So loud…” The young girl mumbles against Elsa’s stomach, making it hard not to smile at least a little bit. Anna is so cute… Their parents don’t care so much for what they call a “childish fear”, and while Elsa can see why it could be frustrating for them, she would support Anna no matter what her fears are.

“Would you like me to sing to you?” As she offers the suggestion, Anna’s beautiful blue eyes peek up at her with blurry excitement. Anna lets go and allows Elsa to sit up against the wall, so she could slide over next to her that way and pull the blankets up over them. Only after snugly wrapping her arm around Anna and pulling her sister in close to her, does she take a semi-nervous deep breath.

“Where the Northwind meets the sea…” The more she continues with the melody, the easier it is to get comfortable with. Her singing is something she reserves only for the most special of crowds, so she couldn’t help being nervous, but as that special crowd is only Anna, it’s worth doing. That fact is pleasantly reminded to her as soon as her sister’s tears finally come to a stop, as do her eyelids drop. By the time she finishes the lullaby, the young girl is out like the power. However, her own heart has only continued rising in rate.

She presses a cold kiss to Anna’s forehead, wishing she didn’t want to kiss any lower than that. The action produces a soft smile from her sleeping sister, but one that fades as Anna slips into a deeper sleep. Elsa is left staring at the foggy windows until exhaustion finally claims her.

_______________________________________

“Anna, come get your dirty socks out of the living room!!” At Elsa’s irritated demand, Anna looks away from her phone to the open bedroom door. She bites her lip and reluctantly slips off of her bed to do as her sister asks. There are a lot more socks out here than she thought there would be, almost like she isn’t the only person leaving them out here. Anna casts a suspicious look over in Elsa’s direction, only for it to be unnoticed as the older woman is taking their collective laundry to the small washer in this overpriced apartment.

After gathering all of the socks she could into her arms, Anna follows her into the tight laundry room. Elsa slides back against the wall so Anna could dump the socks into the washer and then reaches past her to close the lid and start the machine.

“Do you think we should wait until the morning to do laundry? It looks like it’s going to storm outside.”

“You always say that.”

“I do not!”

The two wrestle to get out the laundry room door first, only Elsa successfully getting out with the younger woman dropped clumsily at her feet.

“Yeah, you do. You’re just a big clumsy chicken.” Getting mocked like this, Anna somewhat would rather stay on the floor than accept her sister’s hand of help. “Oh, come on. You know I’m just teasing you.” Reluctantly, Anna takes Elsa’s hand and lets herself be pulled up off the floor and into a warm hug. It lasts barely more than a second, as they always do nowadays, but it’s the thought that makes Anna’s heart gush.

“Whatever. It hasn’t stormed for a really long time is all I’m saying. When it hits, it’s going to hit hard! I feel like you aren’t as worried as I am…”

“That’s because I’m not worried. How about some hot cocoa? We can watch a movie, so you can relax.” Elsa’s hand rubs a comforting circle on Anna’s back as she leads her to the small couch a few feet away. When Anna looks over at the large window at the far wall near the front door, her sister attempts to block her sight of the horrible storm quickly brewing. Maybe that’s for the better. If she catches a glimpse of the trees dangerously swaying out there and the power lines shaking in the wind, there’s no way she’d be able to relax.

“Fine…”

“Good. You just pick out a movie and I’ll start making the cocoa.” With that, Elsa leaves her side to pull the blinds over the window and then walks into the kitchen. Anna sighs, getting down onto her knees to scootch over to the TV and scan what movies they have. A little bit of horror, some chick flicks, and of course, a large array of Disney and Pixar movies.

Only by the time the microwave buzzes, does Anna find the right movie. A personal favorite of hers since she was a child: Toy Story. Elsa isn’t as big a fan of these kinds of movies as she is, or at least that’s what she says, but every time Anna puts on one of the movies, there she is watching it with her.

“Have you picked a movie yet?” Elsa calls out from the kitchen.

“Yep! Putting it in right now!” As Anna does so, she can hear her sister quickly walking down the hall behind her, likely to grab a blanket or two. After the title screen pops up on the TV, Anna meanders herself over to the couch just in time for Elsa to return with the blankets and drop them onto her lap. Then Elsa disappears into the kitchen to retrieve the cocoa.

It takes a moment for them to get situated and comfy, both wrapped in the large fluffy blanket Elsa had grabbed from her room, with Anna leaning into Elsa’s arms without hindering her sister from seeing the movie or enjoying her cocoa. Then they watch in silence once the movie plays. Well, as silent as they could be when making each other giggle. A few dumb comments there, some inside jokes there…

Eventually, with both empty mugs of cocoa on the floor beside the couch, Anna is fast asleep in Elsa’s arms. Without needing to sit up to drink their beverage, they had laid lengthwise on the couch, meaning Anna got the best pillows while watching and Elsa had to deal with stray ginger hairs making her chin itch. All in all, it’s still very worth it to hold her little sister so tightly when the storm outside only gets worse. She almost falls asleep herself, but now that the movie is over and the title screen is muted, a loud boom of thunder wakes Anna from her sleep.

“We’re gonna die!!!” Anna sits up with her hands over her ears, a wild panicked look on her face.

“We’re not going to die.” Elsa tries to pull Anna back down by wrapping her arms around the girl’s waist, but it takes another moment of Anna registering that the world isn’t crumbling around her before she lays back down. “Don’t worry, we’re okay.” Her soft voice slowly eases Anna’s fear and lulls her back into a tired state. As if on cue, the moment Elsa kisses Anna’s head, the power on the TV flickers out, leaving them in pitch darkness.

About to hyperventilate, Anna presses herself closer to Elsa, so desperately wanting to believe that they’ll be okay. Elsa knows the drill with Anna and this situation already, so one of her arms tightly holds Anna against her, and the other reaches into her pocket to find her phone. Once pulling it out, Elsa turns on the flashlight to give Anna some comfort that the world is still perfectly there in front of them. Except it wasn’t.

Haha, just kidding.

“Hey, I’m going to get up and grab the candles, okay?” As Elsa starts to get up, Anna holds onto her sister’s arm like it’s the only lifeline she has. “You’ll be okay for a few minutes without me. Here, take my phone. I’ll grab a flashlight from my bedroom.” Trading Elsa’s arm for her phone, Anna reluctantly lets her go. Now huddled alone in a cocoon of the blanket, all Anna can hear or think is the sound of hard rain battering the outside window like a beckoning to show her the ruins that lay just on the other side.

Wanting to at least attempt to get her fears off of her mind, Anna turns on Elsa’s phone, only to be discouraged by that idea when a pin lock shows up on the screen. Part of her wonders if she could try randomly putting in birthdays or important dates, but before she can try, the home screen loads. The phone camera must have accidentally recognized her face as Elsa’s. How unfortunate for her sister.

Without wifi, there isn’t any looking at social media, but she knows for a fact that Elsa’s gallery has to be filled to the brim with stupid memes. It has to be with all the screenshots Anna gets sent on the daily of things Elsa thinks Anna would like to see. However annoying that could be, it’s so sweet of Elsa to be thinking of her so often. When Anna pulls up the gallery of photos, she’s more than surprised to find much more than memes. Pictures of Anna herself when she isn’t looking pepper throughout the mass of screenshots and pieces of gay fanart of ships Anna doesn’t recognize. Really good pictures actually. They’re very aesthetically pleasing, but why?

Before Anna can go any deeper into her successfully distracting browse, Elsa’s footsteps panic her of being caught. So, she quickly turns off the phone again and sits up to look over the couch at Elsa, who holds a small tub of candles and a flashlight in one of her hands.

“Found them. You okay?”

“Y- yeah.” It must have been suspicious that Anna is just suddenly calm because Elsa gives her a once-over with a skeptical look. “What?”

“Nothing. Help me set these up then, won’t you?”

Anna nods and wiggles out of her blanket cocoon. Should she ask about the pictures? She wouldn’t want to out herself for breaching Elsa’s privacy, and it isn’t like the pictures are hurting anyone. Maybe she should just be quiet about it and later send subtle selfies to add to her sister’s collection. Is that creepy? Elsa seems to catch Anna lost in thought and gently pokes her arm with a candle before setting it down near the TV.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Oh. Just the storm. Sounds really nasty outside, almost like someone knew this would happen.” Anna’s sass stops Elsa from pressuring with another pressing question.

“Fine. You were right. Happy now?” Elsa lights the candle and grabs another to light on a small table in the middle of the living room, Anna trailing after her to put one in the bathroom just beside the laundry room.

“A little bit, but I wish I weren’t.”

“It isn’t all bad. We still have each other, board games, and I downloaded a bunch of music on my phone.” Anna hums, unconvinced that anything good could come of this storm. “Don’t be so stubborn. One day, you’re going to be caught in a storm without me, and then what are you going to do?”

“Lay on the ground and cower until you find me.”

“Anna…” Elsa sounds disappointed, but Anna could see the smile on her face. “You’re going to have to get over this fear one day. Storms are a part of life, and while they can be sudden and destructive, they can also bring about something beautiful!” Doubtful of this, Anna hums again and goes back to the living room to hold the candle placed on the TV stand. The light is lowly comforting, as is the sweet cinnamon smell it gives.

“Like what?” Elsa joins her on the floor, sitting crisscrossed in front of her. For a moment, she hesitates to respond to the question, like the first thing that popped into her mind wouldn’t sound quite right.

“Rainbows! And the heavy amount of rain is healthy for grass and plants to grow.”

“How could something so loud and terrifying bring about something so wonderful…?”

This time, Elsa doesn’t answer for an even longer time, her gaze lost on Anna’s face. It’s hard to tell, but in the close firelight, it almost looks like she’s blushing. Slowly, one of Elsa’s hands reaches up to Anna’s face to brush away the loose strands of her hair that threaten to fall into her mouth or catch in her eye. Somehow, the moment feels intimate. Alone in the dimly lit darkness, with only the sound of rain and quiet thunder between them. It’s a silly thought, but Anna almost expects Elsa to kiss her.

“The earth is a very confusing and wonderful place, that’s how.” But she doesn’t, obviously. Elsa retracts herself from beside Anna and stands to walk back into the hallway.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to grab a board game. Anything you prefer?” Anna thinks for a moment before reaching over to the couch and pulling the blankets down onto the floor.

“I don’t want to play board games.”

“Don’t be so stubborn, Anna, we’re going to-”

“No, I mean, I want to sleep. Isn’t it late?” Elsa goes quiet again, concerning Anna until the woman finally reappears behind the couch. “What is it?”

“You want to sleep during a storm? Since when?” The whole danger of being asleep when a natural disaster could kill them both doesn’t feel so present when she thinks about laying beside Elsa again. Her sister isn’t really that much bigger, or even stronger, than her, but she still makes Anna feel so safe. The way Elsa can just soothe her mind with just her voice and the gentle touch of her fingers…

“I’m just feeling tired again. You’re right, maybe there’s nothing to be so afraid of.” How is she supposed to say that without making things weird though? It probably isn’t weird at all, but the way she describes it in her head doesn’t sound right. Elsa looks skeptical as she leans over the back of the couch.

“Okay… Well, would you like to sleep out here or in your bedroom?”

“Oh, is your bedroom not an option anymore?” Elsa’s uncertain expression instantly turns into a smirk, a clear indication that she now sees right through Anna’s “not afraid anymore” tactic.

“Well, I’m not going to light any candles for you in there, so it’s going to be pretty dark. Are you sure you can handle that?” Anna rolls her eyes and stands, the blankets bunched into her arms.

“As long as your arms are around me, I can handle anything.” The soft reply works far better in her favor than some rude comeback, for Elsa goes very quiet again. Even without seeing her face, Anna can imagine she has turned all shades of red by now. She found out long ago how to get this kind of reaction from her sister, and while she isn’t exactly sure why she acts like this, it’s always more fun to tease her this way.

She’s only overdone it once, but the result stuck with her enough to be more careful. It was when they were both still just teens. They were playing a very competitive game on the Xbox and Anna was losing. Elsa, a not so graceful winner, was teasing her about it, and Anna practically smothered the poor older girl with both physical and verbal affection. She may have won the next round, but at what cost when Elsa disappeared into her room with some sort of panic attack and didn’t come back out until the next day.

Anna walks over to Elsa’s bedroom door and stands beside it to wait for approval. A little slow to join her, Elsa timidly opens the door and allows Anna to go through with the blankets first. It’s definitely much darker in here than Anna expected, but it would make sense with the power out and the curtains pulled tight over her window. As soon as Anna finds the bed and flops over on it, she leaves the blankets and goes to find the window.

“Anna, what are you doing?” Elsa’s exasperated voice sounds from far behind her as does the click of the bedroom door closing.

“I’m going to open the curtains.”

“Why? So you can jump awake at every flash of lightning? Not tonight. You want to go to bed, we’re going to bed.”

Hand on one of the curtains anyways, Anna lifts the curtain just a bit to look outside. The storm hasn’t gotten any better. From what she could see of behind the apartment complex, small tree branches are littered over the parked cars, most only doing minor damage while one large branch has pierced through the windshield of an unfortunately new-looking car. A loud crack can be heard above before the bright flash of white illuminates herself and what it could of the room for just a moment.

Anna jumps back into Elsa’s waiting arms, her heart pounding fearfully in her chest as thunder fills the room. She turns in the hold to hug tight onto Elsa, hiding her face in the crook of Elsa’s neck. While one of Elsa’s arms hugs her back tightly, the other closes the curtain again. In darkness once more, Anna is guided back towards the bed with now two comforting arms holding her protectively.

Only when they’re on the bed, surrounded by a thick comforter, and Elsa loosens her grip to wrap them both in the large blanket, does Anna find relaxation again. The smell of her sister and the gentle feeling of her breath on her shoulder is just the right distraction and nostalgia to make her feel sleepy.

“Is this comfortable for you?” She whispers drowsily, unsure if Elsa is comfortable too or just being polite for her scared little sister.

“Mm, could be worse,” Elsa murmurs back, sounding just as tired. Her hands have become loose grips on Anna’s shirt, now just limp on her back.

“Would you like me to move?” Without needing an answer, Anna starts to shift and readjust her weight on Elsa’s body until she’s lying mostly beside her with one leg draped over one of Elsa’s and her arms wrapped tight around Elsa’s shoulders.

“…This is worse.” Elsa groans and starts to move to fix the problem herself. She rewraps both arms around Anna and pulls her back on top before rolling onto her side. Now Anna’s face is half-buried in her sister’s tits, but that’s fine because she’s being held so tightly that she never wants to be let go. “Much better. This good for you, too?”

“Mhmm.” Completely prepared to sleep like this, Anna is dismayed to feel Elsa leaning back.

“Oh, sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I was-” Anna’s kind-of-protest is cut off by her surprise more so than the action when gentle lips come in contact with her own. They don’t stay very long, and could easily be ignored if either just says something, but the silence that draws on in the dark makes it much tenser.

“I- Sor… Sorry, I th- thought.. I didn’t think it was- y- your cheek.” Wait- what did she think? Elsa’s nervous stuttering makes it confusing.

“You… did or didn’t think you were kissing my cheek? I mean, it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go to sleep.” The room goes quiet as Elsa pulls her arms away from Anna, making all their attempts to be comfortably intertwined with each other a waste of time when she rolls onto her other side. With a sigh, Anna scoots herself close against Elsa’s back, her arm innocently draping over her waist. Unfortunately, just as she does so, Elsa moves even farther away, and when Anna goes to reach for her, she’s gone.

The sound of footsteps is barely audible underneath the hard rainfall and the thunder. Anna sits up when the door to the bedroom opens and Elsa leaves the room, the door staying open just a crack. A little afraid to be alone in this dark room with the storm just behind the window a few feet away, she lays back down and pulls the comforter over herself to hide in the massive blanket.

She can’t sleep, not like this. Her eyes are wide open to the dark surroundings, wondering if she should go after Elsa or stay for worry of making it worse. All those pictures in her sister’s phone… and then Elsa’s weird phrasings when talking about the storm, and the weird way she reacts to Anna’s affection… No, it has to be some coincidence, right? Elsa doesn’t like her that way. She can’t! And yet, it would make so much sense. Anna feels confused and oblivious, like this whole thing has gone on far longer than she realizes.

What does she do? How is she supposed to respond? She doesn’t feel disgusted by this revelation, but it’s more strange to think about than she’s used to. No matter what, she doesn’t want to lose her sister. Regardless of how Elsa feels about her, Anna doesn’t want to live in a world where she can’t see Elsa’s face or hear her laugh or sleep in her bed or…

Anna’s heart skips a beat. Oh. Is it possible she feels the same way as Elsa? That thought puts an anxious pit in her stomach that only gets worse with how she can hear the things in Elsa’s room shift from the next deep roll of thunder. Would that make things better or worse for them? Well, Anna being the most chaotic of the two, she figures there are only a couple of ways to find out, and tonight’s the perfect opportunity for one of those ways. Well, perfect is overselling, but if she doesn’t do it like the courageous coward she is, then she would never do it and never pursue finding out.

Like a rabbit obliviously walking into a trap, Elsa quietly walks back into the room, her face refreshed with water. She closes the door behind herself once more and walks over to the bedside.

“Sorry that I left like that. I just needed to cool off for a second.” Elsa was gone much longer than a second, but Anna digresses about the topic. Instead, she opens up the comforter cocoon to let Elsa onto the bed and then closes the box on her prey. Unaware of what’s happening in the dark of the room, it’s Anna’s perfect chance to kiss Elsa back, but she waits. Only when Elsa has gotten herself comfortable under the weight of Anna, her arms holding onto the girl while Anna lays her head on her chest, does Anna make a very slow and careful move.

One of her hands, lightly brushing against Elsa’s arm like her other hand, moves up to cradle the back of Elsa’s neck when Anna raises herself to find Elsa’s mouth. Her lips discover her chin and then Elsa’s lower lip before quickly seizing in on the kiss. Elsa completely froze the moment Anna’s hand made its ascent, but after a moment of adjusting to the girl’s kiss, her hold on Anna’s waist tightens and she starts to desperately kiss back. It surprises Anna at first that this is Elsa’s reaction after she had just freaked out about kissing her. Then Elsa’s hands scatter, rubbing up and down Anna’s back while Elsa’s dominance over the kiss pulls her in deep to the over-sensuality that comes with experiencing this in the dark.

The way Elsa’s breath has erratically changed to be shallow pants, close to Anna’s own nervous shallow breath, and how Anna could feel Elsa’s heartbeat against her chest. It thumps fast and strong against Anna’s own racing pulse. Thinking about this, she can also feel her face getting extremely hot. She quickly forgets to remember how strange this is and gives in to the new feelings. Storms really can be wonderful…

_______________________________________________________________

The ceiling light coming on rudely wakes Elsa from a thoroughly exhausted sleep. Squinting one eye open just to debate whether it’s worth getting up, her gaze catches on the dark ginger hair messily sprawled over her exposed chest and both eyes go wide. She’s careful not to sit up too quickly, but she props herself up on one elbow to pull her shirt down from where the hem rests on her collarbone.

Once she does, Elsa stares down at Anna, sleeping so peacefully on her bare abdomen. All of the events of last night come crashing into her thoughts, the last of them putting a hot blush on her face. Then she looks over at the curtained window, unable to see through the fabric, but able to hear the sounds of early birds chirping. She has no idea what time it could be and her phone is buried in her pocket, probably dead by now. There’s no way she’s going to risk waking Anna up.

If last night wasn’t a dream, she wants to draw out the time until she would have to talk with Anna about it. It was definitely Anna who kissed her the second time, right? Gosh, her thoughts feel as blurry as her tired eyes. With a huff, Elsa lets her arms slide down the blanket and lets her head fall back into the pillows. What is she going to say?

Elsa had repressed these feelings horribly without consequence until last night. After the slip-up, she went and cried in the bathroom until pulling herself together with the thought: “whatever just happened, Anna needs support right now. She can’t be alone in a storm like this.” So, when Anna kissed her without any warning, everything else just moved faster than she was ready for. Years worth of desires… Are they finally reciprocated?

Again, Elsa looks down at Anna, the girl’s freckled features obscured with hair. She nervously pulls a few strands of hair away from her face, exposing pieces of her neck as well and a dark bite mark between her neck and shoulder. A regretful grimace crosses her face remembering this moment like a flashback.

The rest of Anna is covered by the comforter, but slight exposure of her sister’s shoulders suggests she isn’t wearing much underneath. Casting a glance over to the floor, further evidence is shown with both of their collective pants lying beside the bed.

How could everything have moved so quickly? She doesn’t remember speaking more than a few words once it started and none of it explained how it happened. Elsa knows Anna likes to tease her because of her flustered reaction, but nothing she ever did genuinely suggests she actually felt the same. Maybe she was just better at hiding it? Maybe she didn’t know at first…? No, that’s too hopeful. But then, what?

Anna gives a soft sigh, rousing Elsa from her thoughts. The sleepy girl picks up her head and stares tiredly at Elsa, a smile slowly growing on her face. Then, like her hard drive just booted up, her face turns into that of excitement. She squirms a bit out of the blanket to sit up and look down at Elsa, who tries to keep her eyes on her sister’s face.

“Good morning. Some storm last night, huh?”

#elsanna #submission #June 2021 contest #prompt: storm #lime

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razorblade180 · 4 years ago

Text

Twin Snowflakes 27:Hill climbing preparations

Part 26 here!<-

Rehearsals were going well. With Darren out of mind and no further incidents, students had gotten back into a steady blow of progress. The band was a little shaky at first but Summer had learned that Nick had a point about her being a bit strict in the beginning. With that hurdle jumped, Summer felt comfortable enough to take a short break. Her feet swung from over the stage's edge like a kid on a swing while she took a moment to call Oscar. It had been a few days since their last check in date. The fact that he didn’t blow her fun up meant his own hands were full. Fortunately, two rings was all it took before his face popped up on her screen, covered in what was hopefully seawater.

“Hi Oscar! Ummm sea life treating you will? You look a little…”

“Wet? Sigh, I can’t believe I’m saying this but I miss the cold of the tundra. All the storms and aquatic grimm yanking me off the boat is getting annoying. Anyways, Penny told me you had a little scare recently? Everything okay?”

“Yes, I think.” Summer rubbed her face. “Well…as okay as things usually get. I do feel better than usual. I’ve gotten to perform quite a bit the last couple days.”

“Really? Did you take my advice by any chance?”

A guilty smile found its way on Summer’s face. She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Nah. I’ve just been singing a couple of covers and a few originals that anyone with a radio has heard. The lyrics in the journal are just that, in the journal. I actually wanted to talk to you about a trick Nick got me to try. You’ve actually mentioned it once before early on.”

“Is that so- woah!” Oscar yelped, nearly falling from the rock of the ship crashing through a wave. “Hehe. Sorry about that!”

“Everything okay over there? I can call later?”

“No it’s fine; just rough seas. That’s good though. Challenging waves and other harsh weather factors have been swelling for quite some time. You’re too young to remember this but Atlas was actually a bit warmer. Hot places were cooler and sailing wasn’t as wild.”

“I’ve heard about that in class. Don’t scientists think it might have something to do with magic being back?”

“Or the gods roaming through Remnant.” He smirked, confident about the latter theory. “Harsh conditions mean it’s difficult to press forward. As if the world itself is trying to keep things away. With a little luck, passing these hurdles are all the answers we need.”

Answers. Summer couldn’t begin to imagine having those. It was more terrifying than reliving if she had to be honest. She wouldn’t know what to do if the gods themselves didn’t know what to do. The only thing worse is them saying she couldn’t do anything.

“Let’s cross our fingers you aren’t on a boat for nothing. Speaking of Shiva, Nick talked me into entering my headspace willingly. I was even able to manifest a shovel in it!”

“A shovel?” Oscar quirked his head.

“Yeah it wasn’t the usual blue empty space. It waslake; the lake as a matter of fact. I chucked a shovel at Shiva and told her to start digging her grave.”

“Nick told you to do that!?”

“Weeeeeeell… he only told me to confront her with unwavering resolve in a way Veronica would. I’m pretty sure that meant being cut throat but I may have defaulted to cock intimidation. Pretty sure I stoked the flames of war. But it felt good!”

The cheerfulness in her tone was genuine. While manifesting and confrontation was something Oscar had tried to get her to do early on, there are ways to go about it. Headspace or not, poking at a beast was always risky. “I’m glad you’re feeling good, but exercise caution. I wouldn’t try that alone. There’s a lot we don’t know about that space. I doubt you can actually die there but if that really is your mind you're traversing then serious backlash might happen if things go wrong. Remember, Shiva has an edge. Don’t let her play you in your own head.”

“Believe me, that’s the last thing I want. I’ll be careful Oscar. Thanks for worrying about me. Couldn’t ask for a better therapist”

“I wouldn’t go that far. Ruby and your dad give some pretty solid motivational speeches.”

Hehe, don’t sell yourself short. I should probably get going. Good luck! Watch the gods tell you to perform an exorcism or drown me in sacred water.”

Oh if only it was that easy. “If she had any signs of a soul I would’ve tried that already. Take care Summer. Call me when you need me”

“You know I will.” She hung up and looked over at Nick. A few of the girls had taken the opportunity to strike up a conversation with him. In typical fashion, Nick just let them fawn in vain. “Geez, take a hint ladies.” She mumbled.

“Oh my gods! I wasn’t aware you could sing!”

“So talented!”

“Can you sing for my birthday!?”

All the back chatter and compliments made it hard to focus on one person. Nick did his best to calm them all, giving a faux laugh and smile. “Hehe, thanks. I can hold a note, I’m not as good as my sister, and I’m way too sheepish to sing at a birthday. Now we should probably get back to working maybe? Practice is almost-” his eyes caught the door entrance before he finished. Valerie had walked in.

As if by will, her head automatically turned to meet his eyes. Valerie couldn’t help but give some kind of disarming smile, giving a small wave that was quickly rejected when Nick went back talking to the people around him. Not even Valerie could deny that burn. She put her hand down before she felt anymore like an edit, walking over to Eliza to get what she had to do over with.

“Hey soldier.”

“Huh? Well look who finally decided to show! I expect more from a representative of this school.”

“Oh brother…” Val couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “I’m not even gonna pretend that I’m sorry like I usually do. Look, at least I did what was asked of me. Boiler is fixed for now and there should be no problem getting hot water when the big day arrives.”

“Keep a keen eye on it just in case. I don’t have any time to deal with tiny problems during the tournament.”

“Yeah you and everyone else in this room. Now if you excuse me.” Valerie pointed both thumbs back and tried backing up slowly.

“Hold on…”

“Uuugh. Yes? I got plenty of practice to work on. Make this quick.”

Eliza narrowed her eyes. “Wow, someone is more aggressive than usual. If that’s how you’re going to be then I’ll spare you the lecture. Just know you better be careful or I might pull the rug out from under you this year.”

“Hmph, bold words. You gotta make it to the top of the hill before challenging the ruler. Though you’re more than welcome to kick Nick around and take his spot for all I care. See ya. Just text me the meeting information. Got things to do.” Valerie turned around and headed off. On the way out she saw Summer staring at her with a raised eyebrow from afar. To make matters worse, the cheerleaders moved by the exit. Veronica being among them. Valerie was ready for some kind of sly comment but to her surprise Veronica briefly acknowledged her, nodded, and then went back to what she was doing.

Eliza looked at the time and figured everyone made enough progress for one day. “Alright everyone! You can all start wrapping things up. I’m sure all of you have things to-” the sound of everyone packing their belongings overpowered her voice. “Do.” She finished. At least she could trust everyone to clean up on time. “Nicholas, get your butt in gear.”

“Oh thank goodness!” Nick wasted no time squeezing his way through the girls that lingered around him. “Sorry! The VP calls! Let’s go Summer!”

“Right behind you.” She turned towards the band. “It would be a good idea for you all to practice a little longer. Not because you may or may not need it but because I’ll finally give you room to experiment. Just no funny ideas about adding drum solos.” Summer hopped off stage and headed off, quickly catching up to Nick, Eliza, and Veronica. “Well aren’t we an interesting looking bunch?”

“An idol, witch, heir, and fashion designer. This is the beginning of a bad joke I’d say.”

“Bold of you to call someone a witch when they’ve agreed to help you train.”

“Would you prefer magical girl, or maybe sorceress?” Nick nudged her.

“I prefer my name. However…sorceress is endearing, I suppose.”

“I could call you that while you teach me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” She said in a shrill voice. “I’m already regretting this.”

“Well while you two train to death, I’m finally going to get some real shut eye. I can hear my bed calling my name already.”

“Not so fast.” Veronica interjected. “Since we ended up being free at the same time and I have to work a little more diligently…”

Summer didn’t like where this was headed. “Veronica, my hot headed designer, I’m well aware of what it’s like to be a perfectionist. However, please don’t rope me into this.”

All three of them looked at her at once. “It’s your dress!”

“I know that! No need to remind me! I am tired though. It’s Monday, the weekend was crazy, and I just put in a full day of school with extra curricular activities. Allow me two hours at least!?”

“Ugh, ever the whiner. Fine but I don’t want to hear any complaints about design. Most would be thrilled to be heavily involved with their clothing.”

“Well consider this a show of good faith towards your skills.”

The four of them continued to talk all the way to the manor. Eliza tried to stay on important topics while Nick did his best to keep things casual. It never really worked out considering Summer's insistence to not help her dear brother and Veronica’s curiosity about events to come. It was only when the girl’s feline ears twitched by the gate did she begin to quiet down.

“Hmmm?” She stopped immediately.

“Huh? What’s wrong Vee-”

“ACHOO!!!” The girl yelled. The sneeze was so strong Veronica lifted off the ground slightly. “Phew…sorry about that.” She sniffled her loss and continued walking like nothing happened, leaving everyone confused. Veronica was the first to enter with everyone lagging a bit behind. Her eyes looked around until they spotted her mother, Blake, coming down the stairs in casual clothes and wet hair.

“Hey everyone! Finally home I see? And with a friend?”

“Uh classmate. I wouldn’t exac…ummm that’s not important. Hehe, I’m Eliza Marigold.” She stammered. It didn’t really dawn on her that she’d be meeting Mrs. Belladonna herself today. “You look lovely. Though…you look a little red? Are you sick?”

“Oh it’s nothing! Just umm got out of the shower is all.”

Veronica’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s ma?”

“Out back with Jaune.”

“Really?”

“One hundred perfect!” Blake said, unusually preppy. “Well I don’t keep you kids held up. I’ll be in the living room. Nick, Summer, I think your mother is in the garden.”

“Cool. She must be setting up the candle test already. Follow me Eliza.” Nick took her hand and guided her.

“Think I’ll get lost or something?”

“No, I just don’t need you judging every inch of this place until you find something to criticize.”

“……It’s too bright in here.” She heard Nick snicker at her attempt. “You suck.”

With those two out of the way it was time for Summer to mosey to her room. “Finally, nap time!”

“Don’t you wanna practice too?”

“What they’re doing is something I already know. Besides, Nick and I do most of our practices separate. He’ll get me when he needs me. Wake me up if you need anything.”

Veronica waited for the girl to get out of sight before giving her mom a look meant to inspire shame and embarrassment. “Really? We’ve been out all day ya know? You had plenty of time.”

Blake put her hand over Veronica’s face. “Shush your face. It happens sometimes. Thank you for the heads up.”

“Y’all are gross but that’s nothing new. I won’t mention it again if you could bring dinner up to my room. I’m gonna be spending quite some time in there.”

“Even across the world I guess some habits don’t change. Deal.”

xxxxx

In the garden, Weiss stood on the balcony with a cup of coffee. The sound of footsteps behind her caught her ear. She was more than a little surprised to learn that they belonged to not just Nick. “Eliza?”

“Mrs. Schnee. Thank you for allowing me in your home.” Eliza gave a curtsy.

“How’s your father?”

“Oh you know him, always up to something.”

Weiss wasn’t sure if that was good or bad considering his track record. “I see. Well make yourself comfortable. Nick, everything is already set up. Never would’ve thought this is how you’d try to get this done. Don’t push yourself.”

“Heh, push myself? Me?”

Weiss playfully rolled her eyes and left the balcony, ruffling Nick’s hair on the way out. Nick looked at Eliza confused. “You know you don’t have to be so formal around her, right?”

“Let’s not focus on my speech and pay attention to why we’re here. Anyways, how does this training work exactly?”

Nick walked to the railing to point at the fifteen candles spread throughout the garden. “The goal is to light all the candles at once without burning anything. It’s harder than it looks. It requires timing, speed, accuracy, and control above all.”

“Never took you for one who cares much for traditional methods of fighting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use your glyphs to manipulate the elements.”

“Yeah, because I suck. Summer on the other hand…” He hunched over in defeat. “Not so much.”

Eliza couldn’t help but scan the area multiple times. This couldn’t be all there was to it. Could it? The five candles in the actual hedge maze looked a little challenging, but Nick was…Nick! Despite her reservations about his attitude, he was smart and knew how to work.

“Do you increase the candle amount as you go?”

He nodded. “That’s the natural progression. Summer can do thirty without thinking much about it.”

“Meanwhile you can’t even do half that amount. You sure you’re the older twin?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.” He pouted. Nick grabbed his sword and got into his low stance.

“So I’m just supposed to observe you?”

“No. I’m going to need help with the fires too.”

That’s not something she wanted to hear. “Tsk, alright. But first, let me see if I’m able to do it. Wouldn’t be that good of a teacher if I couldn’t.”

She climbed on top of the railing to get a better look. She raised her right hand to the sky and took a breath. Five flames ignited her fingertips as she thought of the best approach. Moments later, Eliza launched all five with a downward swing, another five swing left, then the final five to the right. Each flame danced on the winds below them before finding their targets.

Amazed, Nick’s jaw dropped for a second before saying anything. “First try!?”

“Not exactly. You did say all at once so that may have been cheating. Let me try again.” She wrapped both arms around herself then swung them out, causing a gust of wind that blew out the candles.

Nick watched closely. Breathing, posture, line of sight; anything he could to gain knowledge. Eliza cuffed her hands together. A small flame flickered into existence and grew slowly until it was the size of a baseball. Eliza threw it over the garden underhanded. The moment it reached max height she pushed her hands downwards like if she closed a lid. This made the flame split apart into embers that fell quick enough to reach each candle. Nick couldn’t believe she was two for two.

“Seems I got the hang of it.” Eliza blew the candles out and hopped off the railing. “I’d do it while off the railing but I’m positive we know the results.”

“Yeah no kidding. While I’m lucky I picked the right person to help me, doing that so easily kinda stings. Not gonna lie. You really are a sorceress.”

“Tsk, flattery gets you nowhere. Assume your stance.” She ordered. Eliza kept a close eye on Nick. He opted to square his feet with his shoulders, a sturdy stance for sure. “So far so good.” His blade pointed up and outwards. A red glyph began to form at its tip, conjuring a ball of intense flame that was as big as a softball. Eliza’s eyes narrowed. She could not believe what she was watching. “You’ll miss.”

“Huh?” Nick said, trying to focus.

“If you shoot the fireball then you are going to miss.” Eliza channeled a silver orb in her palm that bursted into shimmering light. Nick’s glyph suddenly vanished and took the fireball along with it.

“Hey! Don’t just negate my semblance out of the blue! I didn’t even shoot it yet!”

Eliza wasn’t sure what she had expected from this training. It was clear now why a talented person like Nick was fumbling. Frankly, it was annoying. Down right inexcusable. Eliza folded both her arms. “You’re so idiotic in the strangest ways possible, you know that right? To think you’re stronger than me?”

Nick huffed. This wasn’t constructive at all. “You gonna actually help, or continue to insult me? If I knew how to do this on my own then I wouldn’t ask for help.”

Nick ran his hand through his tangled hair and let out a sigh. Eliza could tell he genuinely had no idea what was wrong. It kinda got to her. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be picking on you like that. You weren’t wrong to ask for help.”

“Normally I have an inkling of how to progress but I’m hitting a wall. All of this is just…”

“Too much?” Eliza leaned over and thumped his head. “Because it is. That’s exactly your problem. You are doing far too much at once. Why are you trying to do so many steps at the exact same time?”

“What do you mean at the exact same time? All I did was make a fireball.”

Eliza could feel her eye try to twitch. “Okay. I should’ve expected that from you. Guess I’ll teach by showing.” She stood beside Nick and made a flame. “See? Now this is as basic as it gets, just straight up fire. A fireball requires controlling the shape of the flame;maintaining its heat as well.” The flame swirled around itself to make just that.

“Okay? I’m following you so far.”

“If a fireball was all you were making then no big deal. However, I just saw you attempt to make a fireball that has to keep its shape, burn hot enough, long enough, and must be aimed at multiple targets at once. No mind can do all that on a dime. It’s simply too much.”

Nick watched Eliza move behind him, putting her arms right on top of his, guiding his movements as if she was holding his blade. Her chin rested on his shoulder to get a clear line of sight. Nick was no stranger to being led through an attack, but man was it weird to have Eliza this close!

“Ummm…”

“Bear with it and focus.” She uttered, trying not to yell in his ear. “Make a flame. Just a flame. Let it heat swell and dissipate in sync with my breathing.”

“Shouldn’t it be with my own?”

“Not when your heart is beating like a drum. To think Nicholas Schnee would lose composure from a girl touching him?”

“Can’t hear you, focusing.” He was trying anyway. Eventually he managed to slow his heartbeat. He could tell Eliza was taking deep breaths on purpose to help. In sync, he made another fire glyph as she ordered.

“Good, now make it as hot as you want, then make it into a ball.” The flame shaped into the size of a baseball this time. Eliza smiled. “See how easy it is to control the size after you’ve completed the previous steps? You’ll save dust this way.”

“What’s next?”

“Aiming. You already know where your targets are but you also aren’t in a rush. If you need time to make a shot then all you have to do is make the time.” Eliza raised Nick’s sword higher in the air. “Launch it into the air, confirm where you need the fire to hit, then guide the flames to it.”

Nick took a deep breath and launched the fireball ball in an arch over the garden. He waited for it to reach the middle and fall briefly before making it burst into smaller flames that hit the candles. Eliza finally let go so he could pump his fist into the air.

“Woohoo!”

“Don’t celebrate yet, but good job. A moving target would be harder but not impossible. Repetition will allow you to eventually group certain steps together without having to think about it. You’ll get used to making fireballs that are a certain size and speed as long as you allow yourself to process each step as you are now. I noticed you let the fireball fall. Why?”

“I always end up not lighting them all because the fire dies too quickly. I realized the flame wasn’t hot enough the moment I shot it, so I let it get closer to the candles before having to split it up. Good thing you told me to aim higher or I may not have noticed.

“He can process things like that but not realize breaking the steps up will make things easier? How does his brain work!?”

Another gust of wind blew the candles out. “I’m willing to help you further but I think it’s time you held up your end of this bargain.”

“Antsy, aren’t we? Fair enough.” Nick put his sword down and sat on the railing. “What I’m about to tell you is going to make your tournament life a hundred times simpler. This is your second King of The Hill. Remember the rules?”

“Of course I do.” She followed his lead and sat down as well. “All previous tournament and combat skills leading up to the tournament are calculated so they can rank you compared to the other contestants. In order to progress higher you must defeat the person directly above you in the rank to switch places. Those who win are rewarded a reprieve from being challenged immediately to decrease rematches, but the loser can be challenged by whoever is directly below them. Conversely, if you challenge a person and lose, then you have to wait a set period before trying again while defending your current spot. The entire tournament is on a time limit that tests endurance, strategy, and the skills you’ve used all year. The winner is whoever is ranked number one by the end; the king of the hill.”

“Correct! It’s pure chaos. However, you forgot an important thing. You’ve participated once and managed to get third, so that’s automatically where you start.”

Eliza’s eyes lit up. “That’s a rule!?”

“Yep. As long as you still participated in prior tournaments this year, which you have. Congratulations on skipping the taxing part. Now you’re in the grueling section. The only way you go up is through me and Valerie. A slip up could cause you to waste too much energy and that could drag you out of third if you lose or even win against me immediately, because if I get challenged and win, then I can challenge you again before you challenge Valerie or after you hypothetically lose to her. Let that sink in for a moment.”

Eliza could feel her heart drop to her stomach. If she were to beat Nick and lose to Valerie then at best she’s at a third of her strength for a rematch she doesn’t want. Beating Nick was a goal but she didn’t need to do it twice in a day! The worst part is she is at his mercy in this scenario; getting a reprieve only if he needs one. He could very well best her and then she’s even more tired defending third place.

“Is it sinking in? Third place is its own special hell. Let’s knock Valerie into it.” He smiled.

“And how do we manage that exactly?”

“By knocking me into it! I want to take a dive in our match. A good one. The two of us will put on a spectacle to show our might that ends with me losing. This will throw everyone off into thinking you are exceptionally strong and-”

“Are you saying I’m not!” She folded her arms.

Nick chuckled nervously. “Let me finish before you get upset. Yes, you're strong, but will think you’re stronger than me by a decent margin. This is where the mind games kick in because the two of us haven’t actually used that much energy, but the other contestants don’t know that.”

Eliza rubbed her chin. “You…want them to fight you?”

“Exactly. No one's gonna pass up the opportunity to get a leg up on me. You know that better than anyone. Unfortunately for them, I’ll actually be trying against them and I fully intend to go end them quickly. This does multiple things. It makes the gap between the top three look bigger, allows me to stir the lower ranks rotation, keeps you rested, and makes Valerie anxious because you will not immediately challenge her. We are going to burn time until it gets to a point that once she’s knocked out of first, getting back up will be nearly impossible.”

“I fail to see how that’s possible. If she’s rested-”

“That’s just it, she won’t be. You can challenge her freely and not worry about me for most of the tournament. Use the time to learn how to fight her then I’ll challenge you again and win, then immediately go fight her. You’ll briefly be back in third place but fourth place holders will be exhausted and think twice about challenging you, Eliza Marigold; the person who beat Nicholas Schnee.”

“You made a safety net for third”

“I made a safety net for you! I will beat Valerie so she’ll fall to second place and that’s where you jump in to knock her to third. By that point she’ll have to wait and losing twice in a row is gonna give people ideas. Even if she beats them it’ll be a race against the clock and you can challenge me to avoid fighting her if it comes down to that. Boom, guaranteed second place for you with a potential at first place.”

The plan was insane, daring, and yet clearly thought of. “This is…a lot. Not to mention not full proof. What if I actually don’t need you to weaken Valerie and can take first place for myself?”

“Then by all means take it. I’ll knock Valerie to third myself and then fight you. Careful though. If I win you’re stuck with her and plenty of time you have to stall.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “What if I refuse this off altogether?”

“That’s fine. We’ll just all have to do our best.”

“Your entire plan hinges on you beating Valerie. What if-”

“I’ll win.” He deadpanned. “I can take her this year. No questions about it.”

He started giving that same exact look he did a few days ago. “Not that I’m not interested but this feels a little unlike you.”

“Is that bad? People are always saying I’m too soft around Valerie. This is a tournament and there’s no rules against teamwork. You in?”

He hopped down and extended his hand. Nick did his best to seem casual about all of this but it was clear to Eliza he was pretty frustrated at Valerie. It wasn’t her place to pry. If he was willing to go this far then she might as well keep an eye on the entire thing. A chance to progress, and a good event. As long as those two things happened without incident then she had no reason to object. Then there was the other problem. She already helped him train…Eliza shook his hand.

“Glad to do business with you. I guess it’s only fair now that I give you the choice to stop training me. Wouldn’t want this to feel like I’ve gained so much tangible progress while yours relies on-”

Eliza tossed him his sword. “Quit with the chivalrous act. If I don’t train you to my standards then I’m positive your plan is bound to fall apart. Helping you here can only benefit me, or did you already forget I could teach you a thousand ways to improve your glyphs and still even the playing field?” She made another silver orb.

Nick gulped. He actually did forget how big of a pain in the ass it was gonna be fighting her. Semblance training doesn’t mean much if you can’t use it. “Have I ever told you that you can be terrifying and comforting at the same time?”

“Nobility should be just that. It’s why people like your face so much whenever you look like you beat the crap out of somebody.”

“People like my face because I’m handsome!!!”

“Less chitchat. More candle lighting.”

Nick hunched over in defeat. Marigolds, what can you do with them?

#rwby #rwby au #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #oscar pine #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #eliza marigold #val valkyrie #rwby twin snowflakes

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howtosingit · 4 years ago

Text

Fic: shatter every window ‘til it’s all blown away

Carlos visits family in San Antonio while TK faces multiple storms in Austin.

Missing moments from 1x04.

2.1K | Also on AO3

- - - - - -

definitely just saw like 7 tornadoes

wtf

why exactly does this state want to kill me?

Carlos is sitting on his mother’s couch in San Antonio when he gets TK’s texts. It’s the first time he’s heard from the guy in a couple of days, since he left him on his front porch after their date. The silence hasn’t been terrible, if Carlos is being honest with himself. Sure, TK continues to take up space in his head every moment of every day, but the space seems to be getting smaller, or at least less centralized. He thinks that must count for something.

He glances up at the TV across the room, watching the meteorologist report on the major storm system wreaking havoc on Texas. Outside, rain pelts the windows of his mom’s one-story house, thunder roaring as lightning flashes. They’re a little too far south to be facing any tornadoes, but based on what he’s seeing, he can only imagine what kind of chaos Austin is experiencing at the center of the system.

Behind him, his mother and sisters flit around the kitchen preparing dinner, their conversation barely audible over the thunderstorm. He focuses on his phone again, thinking about how to respond.

Consider that a true Texas welcome?

Are you somewhere safe?

Carlos bites his bottom lip, watching as three dots appear at the bottom of his screen. He assumes that if TK is texting him he’s probably okay, but he’s sure this is the firefighter’s first tornado, so it doesn’t hurt to check. TK has been known to chase danger before.

yeah I’m at work

cowboy judd has us hunkered down until it clears

wbu?

Carlos looks back towards the TV, staring at the map that has taken over the screen. He sees numerous watches and warnings across the state, with a large concentration around Austin. The damage in certain areas is going to be catastrophic.

I’m in San Antonio, we’re just getting heavy rain here

There’s a pause following his text, long enough that he sets his phone down next to him, leaning forward on the couch to rub his temples. He’s already imagining the crazy workload awaiting him when he returns to town, not to mention all the loss. His heart clenches in his chest, knowing that it’s going to be a long road to recovery for his city.

His phone buzzes next to him.

I didn’t know you were out of town

but I’m glad you’re out of the worst of it

Carlos is already typing a response when another text comes through.

when are you back?

Carlos blinks, forcing himself not to read anything into TK’s messages. They’re friends now, or trying to be, and it’s super normal to ask these kinds of questions. TK’s just being curious, nothing more.

Tomorrow night, I’m working Monday

Just visiting family for a few days, it’s my sister’s birthday

He wonders if he needed to share that last bit. TK hadn’t asked for it, and he probably won’t care what reason he has for being out of town. Carlos sighs, wondering why he feels like he has to overthink every interaction with this man.

tell her happy birthday!

Judd says we’re probably going to lose service soon, it’s getting worse around the station

I’ll text you back when I can

Carlos sends a message telling him to be safe before tossing his phone to the other end of the couch, knowing that if he holds onto it he won’t do anything else until he hears from TK again. His mother finds him a few moments later, biting his fingernails as he stares at the continuous weather report. She runs her fingers through his curls, a surefire way to soothe him.

“I’m so glad you’re here and not in the middle of all of that, mijo,” she says, and he glances up to find her watching the report as well, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are all of your friends safe?” she asks, looking down at him. He nods, his eyes closing as he feels her gentle touch on his scalp. He can feel anxiety rolling off of him in waves. “That’s good,” she says, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Come help in the kitchen, nene. You need a distraction.”

Her voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. With a sigh, he pulls himself up from the couch, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they head into the other room, his phone left behind.

- - - -

He’s only about 20 minutes from Austin when his phone rings, the sound cutting through the music blasting in his car. Carlos glances over at his phone where it’s mounted on the dashboard, surprised to see TK’s name on his screen.

The firefighter had texted him once the storms had cleared, letting him know that everyone was safe and the station was still standing. Carlos wished him luck as the 126 headed out into the wreckage, honestly not expecting to hear from TK again before they saw each other at work.

He reaches out, swiping his finger across the screen to answer the unexpected call.

“TK?”

There’s a moment of silence before Carlos hears the other man take a deep breath, the sound traveling clearly through his car’s speakers.

“Hey, Carlos.”

Carlos feels his heart drop down into his stomach at the weak, broken tone of TK’s voice. His mind races with worst-case scenarios, wondering what could’ve possibly happened during his shift.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, trying to keep his voice calm. An image of a battered and bruised TK curled over his desk flashes through his mind, and he presses a little harder on the accelerator, wondering how quickly he can get back home.

“Not exactly. I just…”

TK trails off, hesitating, and Carlos rolls his eyes, frustrated that this conversation is happening over the phone and not in-person. He feels so helpless from so far away.

“Just talk to me, TK. I’m listening.”

There’s another pause, and Carlos swears that he’s about to scream in frustration. He has no idea what’s going on with TK right now, but in the entire time that he’s known him, he’s never heard the other man sound this shattered. Every heavy breath that Carlos hears through the phone feels like a punch straight to his chest.

“We lost someone on a call today,” TK starts, his voice blank. “A dad who wouldn’t let us treat him until we saved his kids. They were trapped in the house.”

Carlos bites his lip, his hands gripping tightly to the steering wheel as his eyes fill with tears. He knows what it’s like to have someone die in front of him, to feel like all he did was stand by and watch it happen. Those are the days where he feels completely useless, like there’s no point in him wearing the badge at all. He knows it’s impossible to save everyone all the time, but he can’t imagine not doing everything in his power to try.

“We got the kids out,” TK continues. “They all reunited, and then he just collapsed. Right in front of all of us. It felt so sudden, and there was n-nothing we c-could do.”

Carlos is shocked by the sound of TK crying over the phone, his breath stuttering over the last few words. He feels a tear of his own fall onto his cheek, his bottom lip quivering at the pain in the other man’s voice.

Doing what they do isn’t easy. It’s process and procedure and protocol. It’s assessing the situation, finding those who need the most help. It’s quick and sometimes callous, but it’s what they have to do, to be of any real use. It’s tunnel vision and quickest actions, all in the name of saving as many people as they can.

And it always hurts, when someone slips through the cracks; when someone’s pain goes undiscovered until it’s too late. Every time, it makes Carlos want to throw away the rule book, rethink the system, figure out how to make it better. He just wants to save everyone.

“I’m so sorry, Ty,” he says, the nickname slipping through for the first time. He tries to keep his voice calm and clear, for TK’s sake.

The other man doesn’t respond, but Carlos can hear him crying through the phone, quiet sobs rolling through the speakers. He’s just about to speak up, say something else, maybe offer a distraction, when TK’s voice cuts through.

“My dad has cancer,” he whispers, and of all the things that Carlos thought he might say, that revelation had not been anywhere on the list.

“What?” Carlos asks, the single syllable rattling through the air before he can stop it, his heart caught in a vice-like grip of terror for TK.

The man has already faced so much.

“I found some pills in his desk,” TK explains. “They’re prescribed for chemo patients.”

“Fuck, TK,” Carlos whispers, running his fingers through his curls as he takes his exit off I-35. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” TK says, letting out a breath. He doesn’t say anything else.

“Where are you right now?” Carlos asks, a new fear running through him.

“Home.”

“Is anyone with you?”

“No.”

“Do you need someone?” Carlos asks, making a decisive turn towards TK’s house. Just in case.

“I don’t know,” TK says weakly. “I… I don’t know, Carlos.”

“What are you thinking?” Carlos asks, trying to figure out TK’s state-of-mind. He seems a little all-over-the-place, and Carlos doesn’t even know where to begin.

“I can’t lose him, Carlos,” TK responds, and Carlos can hear the sob in the back of his throat. “He’s all I have here, I can’t lose him. I’m looking around and he’s everywhere and I can’t escape him or, or this image of him just collapsing right in front of me, without warning. Just like that dad did today. What if that had been my dad, and I missed it because I wasn’t paying attention? Because I was focused on everything else and not on the person who was really dying?”

Carlos makes another turn. “I understand that, TK, but it’s not going to happen, okay? It’s not. You know now, and nothing happened to your dad. I know it’s hard, but you can’t get trapped in the ‘what-ifs,’ you’ll drive yourself crazy,” he says, trying to be as soothing as possible.

“I don’t have anywhere to go that isn’t connected to him,” TK continues, “but I also don’t want to leave, because something could happen when I’m not here. I don’t know what to do, and I just keep pacing around the house.”

“Would it…” Carlos hesitates, wondering if he should even offer. “Would it help to have someone there with you, while you wait for him?”

“I…” TK starts, his voice cutting out. “I thought you were in San Antonio?”

“I just got back, I could be at your place in 10, if you want,” Carlos tells him, already mentally mapping the drive. He turns left, getting closer.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I am,” Carlos states, his voice firm. “‘Not running away,’ remember?”

There’s a heavy silence following the reminder of their last face-to-face conversation. Carlos pulls up to a stop sign, holding his breath as he waits for TK to make a decision.

“Thank you, Carlos,” he finally says, and Carlos wonders if he’s imagining the lighter tone in his voice.

“I’m only a few minutes away, okay? Do you want to stay on the call?”

“Do you mind?”

“No, not at all,” Carlos says, his heart feeling a little bit lighter as TK voice strengthens on the other end of the line.

“How was your sister’s birthday?” TK asks suddenly, and Carlos hears the clear request for a distraction; one that he’s more than happy to provide.

He’s in the middle of sharing how he helped his mom with the cake when he knocks on the door to the Strand household. Seconds later, TK throws open the door, his eyes red and glassy as he drops his phone and pulls Carlos towards him. He wraps his arms around TK’s frame, pressing him against his chest as they stand in the doorway, letting TK’s tears soak the t-shirt he’s wearing as he gently strokes his back.

There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. There’s just a desire to support and comfort and protect.

He can’t imagine being anywhere else.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing #tarlos missing moments collection

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