#a lot of choice words about what a jerk he was after cake | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gurugirl · 2 years ago

Text

Mixed Signals*

Summary: You and Harry are best friends and there's no way he'd ever like you as more. Right?

A/n: best friends to lovers & mutual pining goodness 9.5k words

Warning: Some angst, some fluff, and some smut

You’ve known one another since you were 12. Harry’s always been cute. Really cute. It was hard to ignore your crush some days but most of the time you had no problem teasing one another, making fun of the other, and both pretending to not like each other. It was complicated having feelings for your best friend.

Then as you got older you were convinced he liked you back, but he got a girlfriend during sophomore year of college and so that had to be wrong. He obviously wouldn't choose another girl to kiss and have sex with if he liked you. You were a built-in sure thing, yet he went with the other choice.

Today you and Harry had gone to the amusement park together. You split a funnel cake with powdery sugar, you rode a few rides together, held hands as you ran through the rain back to your car and now here you were, in your bedroom at your parent’s house. The storm was heavy and the rain was falling hard and fast. Your parents were asleep and so you and Harry decided he would stay the night. It felt a little awkward for him to stay over because he hadn’t since he started dating Birdie six months ago.

But he’d slept over and in your bed plenty of times before Birdie. Nothing ever really happened. Well, except for the one time.

6 months prior

You’d woken up when you felt Harry moving in a rhythm that didn’t match up with your sleepy brain, so you turned and reached out for him to stop moving but you pressed your hand right over the skin on his hard penis, which he was pumping in his palm. He had been masturbating and was being really quiet, not making much movement at first. But once it started feeling really good and his balls squeezed as he was just about to come, he was shaking the bed a bit with his faster, more meaningful pace and it caused you to wake.

You both gasped the moment your hand came into contact with his, quite sizable dick. You were shocked first of all that it was sitting right there, just out and bare and his hand was clenched around it but also because of the thickness of him. You hadn’t realized. You knew what this was. He’d been masturbating and you looked up into his eyes, not wanting to look away from his pretty erection.

Harry was looking at you, suspended in motion. He intended on not waking you. Originally he was going to get up and go to the bathroom but then after he rubbed over himself he thickened up so fast, he thought maybe it would only take a couple of minutes. He was so horny and getting up from the bed would mean he’d have to walk 30 feet, open and close doors, move his limbs, and then he’d be standing while he wanked in the bathroom. It was a lot of effort, all that. This would have been a quick pop and then he could wipe up with the tissues sitting on the bedside table next to him. He’d never even have to get up.

He should have used better judgment looking back on it now, with your pretty eyes on his and his hand wrapped around his dick. And he saw the way you looked at his cock. Your eyes widened, lips parted. You paused for a bit as you slowly moved your hand away. It was almost like you wanted to keep your fingers on his solid smooth shaft. Warm. Long. Twitching as he was just interrupted from his orgasm.

So when you smiled at him and moved your own fingers down your long t-shirt and slipped them into your knickers Harry released the breath he was holding. You rubbed over yourself, fingers hidden by the fabric over them, and Harry started up his movements again.

You watched as he jerked his cock in a cadence that was the stencil for your own movements.

“C…can I see? Too?” Harry asked as he moved his free hand up to the band of your panties, still pumping himself.

You nodded at him and stopped your fingers for a moment as you pulled your panties down to your thighs. Then you quickly got back to work.

The sharp inhale of breath from Harry when he saw your pussy for the first time was not missed by you.

You spread yourself a little as you rubbed your clit to allow maximum friction. You and Harry were both rubbing your genitalia, masturbating with panting breaths right next to each other. You knew you’d regret this later but your tired/horny brain didn’t mind too much at the moment. Seeing Harry’s fingers wrap around himself as he fucked into his hand was so hot. And your little wet pussy in his view, arousal being pushed around over your clit, slushy sounds coming from you, it was his end.

You both came quickly, your eyes on one another, the scene was lewd and naughty. Harry ejaculated over his torso and his face scrunched, mouth wide open, breathing hard with one deep groan into the room.

Just the look on his face had you coming. It burst hotly from your veins as you watched his orgasming expression and you whimpered and moaned and when Harry heard you coming he opened his eyes to see for himself. He didn’t want to miss it.

After you both cleaned yourselves with the tissues on the bedside table, all in silence, you laid back into your pillow and Harry pulled the sheets back over his body. And it was never brought up again.

But that was just once. Before his girlfriend came into the picture, well, before they were “official” anyway. Which is probably why it was never brought up. And now he and Birdie were together, well, certainly nothing would be happening.

You both got into bed, joking around like always as you clicked your tv on so you could watch something for a bit. Neither of you was tired yet, you’d both admitted.

Harry slid into the bed next to you. You had your back against the wall and sat with your legs pointed toward the tv on the opposite wall. You’d stuffed pillows and blankets all around, both cozied in. But Harry was close and you were very aware of his proximity. Even with all the blankets and pillows, he’d wiggled in right next to you and his bony knee was dug into your low thigh. Burning, sizzling your flesh, and shooting up your skin directly to your core. You were so attracted to him, and it was moments like these that you hated it. Because he definitely didn’t feel the heat of proximity, his heart didn’t pummel his ribs in his chest, his tummy didn’t send out butterflies into his groin and make him drip with arousal as it did you.

You bit your lip and tried to keep your attention on the tv, or at least you tried to feign interest. Because you couldn’t pay attention to anything but the person sitting next to you. His looming presence. He was leaning toward you, his arm nearly pressed into yours, but just an inch short. It made the hair on your skin raise. Your throat felt dry.

Pay attention to the tv.

Then Harry chuckled and you turned to look at him, "What?"

"You. What're so you stiff for? Look like you're uncomfortable or something. This show's not that good, Y/n."

You forced a smile and knew you were red in the face. Your hormones were going nuts. Any time you were around him lately they were. You couldn't help it. You tried stopping the way you were attracted to him, the way you felt about him beyond just the attraction, the way it stung that he'd never choose you. But ever since that night when you masturbated together, the view of his cock in his hand had been carved into your brain, a permanent fixture and you had a hard time not thinking of him in that way.

"Oh just... I think I just need to..." you scooted around and moved away from him a bit. It helped you breathe. You acted like you were just trying to get yourself more comfortable when you lifted the blanket and pulled at it, to untuck it from your bottom, but the blanket wasn't really that tucked in so when you pulled you gave it too much muscle and the force caused your arm to fly up and you hit Harry in the chin.

"Ooomff!" He reached up and grabbed at his face and backed away from you.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Let me see!" You got onto your knees and pushed Harry back, as you leaned over him to assess the damage. You'd whacked him good, "Does it hurt? Do you need ice? I'm so sorry, Harry!"

Harry just laughed and grabbed your hips, flipping you down to the bed, tackling you over the pillows, and holding you down, his hands pinning your upper arms down as he straddled you. You squealed and laughed at the sudden move.

Then Harry released your arms and brought his fingers down over your ribs and started to tickle your sides. You squirmed and kicked as much as you could and tried pushing his weight off of you but Harry was heavy and strong. Always freakishly strong.

"Oh no! Does that tickle? What 'bout here? Right here?" He continued his fingers over your shirt-covered ribs when you realized, between blushing and laughing from being tickled, that you'd taken your bra off because you two were settling in to go to bed anyway. It was a bit of a habit to remove your bra before bed.

And the reason why you realized it was because Harry suddenly slowed his movements and you opened your eyes to look up at him and saw the way his eyes were taking in the braless tits, with hard nipples poking through the t-shirt on the girl he was just tickling and it had you embarrassed.

You pushed at him to make him move off and he did. Silently. He didn’t say anything about it, just moved back to his spot on the wall and fixed his eyes on the tv.

You felt your face heat up and wished you could just disappear. Sink into the blankets and never come back up. He was obviously grossed out by your braless breasts. You swallowed the lump down your throat and tried to ignore how it made you feel that he reacted the way he did. Obvious disgust. And now? He can’t even look at you.

You both stared at the tv screen in silence. You went over in your head how you should apologize to him but the longer the moment had passed the less it seemed to matter. The damage was done. You felt nauseated.

Harry had tickled you plenty of times. In fact, he tickled you just about any time you were alone together and joking around and even in front of Birdie a time or two. Though you could tell Birdie was not a fan of him tickling you based on the scowl you’d receive when Harry would finally peel himself away from you. You loved it when he touched you, though. It felt like the only time it was okay to let him put his hands all over you and even though you truly were very ticklish, it turned you on just having his digits digging into your ribs or your tummy. But you wouldn’t ever tell him that. And you realized that if you had a boyfriend you wouldn’t want him tickling another girl that way either.

His voice made you jump as you were caught in a state of self-loathing and disappointment while trying to push down the reaction your body automatically had after he touched you.

“Y’hear me?” His head was leaned back to the wall as he was looking at you.

“Oh. No, I didn’t. Sorry.” Another thing to apologize for.

“Said that maybe we shouldn’t tell Birdie I’m staying the night. She wouldn’t like it.”

You nodded. Of course not. Wouldn’t want your girlfriend to know you're staying the night with your dog of a best friend. You put your gaze back to the tv and tried to brush off your upset. It was no use.

And suddenly his hand was on your wrist and he was leaning forward to get your attention, “Hey. Look at me. Are you okay?”

You turned your face to look at his handsome one and just shrugged, “Yeah. I’m fine. Why?”

“Cause you got pretty quiet after I tickled you. Did I do something wrong?” He seemed sincerely concerned.

You looked down at the blanket over your lap, “No. of course, you didn’t. Just felt embarrassed.”

Harry’s hand at your wrist tightened a touch, “Can you please look at me?”

You lifted your head again to look at him.

“There. Now, why did you feel embarrassed?” His kind eyes were always so entrancing.

“Uh… well, because I forgot I took my bra off and that was… well, it’s gross. I’m sorry.” You tried looking back down at your lap but Harry shifted and moved his hand from your wrist to your chin and gently tipped your face toward him so you had to look at him.

“What’s gross? Nothing gross has happened here tonight. And you shouldn’t be embarrassed. S’just boobs," Harry laughed his words as he spoke.

You nodded but kept silent. Yeah, just boobs. Ugly ones attached to your ugly friend, nothing to get worked up over.

Harry kept his eyes on yours for a little longer than he normally would and you swear you saw him look down at your lips and then slowly back up to your eyes. It had you feeling warm and confused. There was a time you thought he liked you but then he asked Birdie out and she was everything you were not. You two couldn’t have been more opposite. And that was all you needed to know to see he probably never liked you like that.

But this look, this gaze had your heart racing. You'd seen it before.

“Pretty.” He said it in nearly a whisper. A quiet statement that might not have been meant for your ears but you heard him. And he was looking at you as he said it, more to himself than to you.

You stitched your brows together and shook your head. No, that's unlikely that he'd said that. You huffed a laugh and tried to turn your face away but Harry's hand kept a loose grip on your chin, turning you back to face him.

"You're pretty. Very. It's why I think we shouldn't tell Birdie. Because she thinks I like you," Harry's words had you utterly confused. You're pretty, he says, but also, he doesn't want Birdie to know... it didn't make sense what he was saying.

"Right. But of course, you don't like me like that. So..." you looked down, and moved your eyes off of his beautiful ones while he still held your chin.

"I do. But... we're friends and... I guess that makes this complicated," he released your chin and you turned your head away. You knew it was a lie. He was just trying to make you feel good. Soften the blow of why he would never choose you.

"That's okay. I get it, Harry," you swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked your tears back. You would not allow yourself to cry in front of him about this. It was silly.

Harry sighed and from your peripheral could see him lean back to the wall where he turned to face toward the TV.

It was silent like that for a bit. No words, no movements. You were feeling quite sad and confused, but mostly sad.

You don't know how long you two stared at the TV in silence. The dark room was lit up with the TV screen and the volume was low so as not to wake your parents.

"So that's it? I get nothing from you?" Harry spoke quietly. You turned to look at him as he kept his gaze on the TV. His jaw was clenched.

"What do you mean?" You were so confused about everything that he'd said. Now, this?

Harry slowly turned his head toward you and he looked upset. He had a frown line between his brows as he spoke, "I just told you that I liked you and that I think you're pretty. You gave me nothing. You never give me anything. I've been flirting with you and dropping hints for years. I get nothing from you but jokes and you just brush me off every time." He sounded mad.

You blinked in your confusion and frowned, "What? What do you mean? Dropping hints? Harry, you have a whole girlfriend who is my complete opposite. I don't understand what you mean."

Harry shook his head and kept a look of disdain over his features, "You're always acting so clueless. We flirt and you brush it off. Remember when we... you know, you saw me that night and we both... did that mean nothing?"

You huffed and scowled, "Obviously it did but then you went and asked Birdie to be your girlfriend the very next week. What was I supposed to do? Beg you to not go out with her?" You had raised your voice slightly.

Harry let out a scoff, "I wanted you to tell me you liked me, Y/n. You never said anything about it again after that. The next morning when I tried bringing it up you made some joke about it. How it was gross. So, yeah, I tried to move the fuck on with a girl who I know for sure likes me."

You thought back to that morning after. You felt like he was not serious when he brought it up. It seemed like he was joking about it himself so you went with that vibe and brushed him off. But now he was here he was mad about it somehow.

"I don't know what to think Harry. You're confusing me."

Harry shuffled on the bed and turned toward you, his face still set in a serious expression, "Okay. Fair enough. I guess I should just…” he sat for a moment as he looked at you, his jaw clenched, “I like you. I would have liked to have asked you to be my girlfriend. Not Birdie. Does that clear up your confusion?" He looked down at you with his brows raised before continuing, "But you never could tell me what you felt for me. Every single time I tried to talk to you about it you laughed it off. So what was I supposed to do?" Harry laughed and shifted again, "You always give me mixed signals, Y/n. I see the way you look at me, and sometimes the way you flirt with me is not just a friendly flirt. And that night when we masturbated together... well that was something. But you're too scared to let me like you so you pretend there's nothing here. So that's why I have a girlfriend who's not you."

You were stunned. You couldn't look him in the eyes or breathe or move. You had to be dreaming but you also knew you weren't. You felt ashamed and disappointed in yourself because he was right. He'd given you a lot more than you'd ever given him and now it was probably too late.

You returned your gaze to his and soften your features as you pushed your nerves down to tell him the truth once and for all, "I'm sorry. You're right. I..." you swallowed to wet your dry throat and felt your nerves bubble over as you pushed them down to finally spit it out, "I like you. I have for a long time. I just... I didn't think you really would like me that way."

Harry's stern expression with the frown line softened as you spoke but then he shook his head, "Fuck that. I have tried to show you. Don't put the blame on me here - saying I wouldn't like you like that. What's that mean? That's bullshit and you know it."

You licked your lips and nodded. It was bullshit. You were just a coward, "Sorry."

Harry sighed and groaned, "Stop. I don't want to hear sorry. Do you have feelings for me? As more than just friends, Y/n. I need to know. It feels like you do but you keep pushing me away. I just need to know so I know what to do here."

You smushed your face up in confusion again, "What to do?"

Harry laughed in frustration and shook his head, "Answer the question."

You both stared at one another, the proximity was causing you to ache again. He'd put his hair in a bun before you got into bed because his hair had gotten long and for some reason, you found him even more attractive than when he had it down. His cheekbones were gorgeous. His features were perfectly symmetrical and handsome. There was no way he'd actually be into you. But he just said he was. You had to tell him the truth.

"I do have feelings for you, Harry. Um... deep feelings and I have for a long time. I like you a lot," you looked down and took a deep breath. You don't know why it was so hard to say but now that you had you felt your entire body tingle with embarrassment.

Harry was silent for a bit. It had you worried. You'd already struggled to tell him that you liked him and now he was quiet. You looked up at his face and Harry had his lips pursed to the side in thought. His light green eyes were on your face.

"Is that what you wanted to hear? What? Now I've said it and that's it?" You crossed your arms over your chest and Harry rolled his eyes.

"God, you're so frustrating. I just wanted a moment to bask in the news you'd just given me. Wanted a moment to soak it in." His expression became playful, a lopsided grin took over his features, and his dimples appeared. You smiled back at him and looked down at your lap.

"You like me enough to be my girlfriend?" He raised his brows at you and tilted his chin upward.

You parted your lips, "Uh... yeah. But you already have a girlfriend so..." you narrowed your eyes at him.

Harry let out a breath in disbelief, "Shut up. You have to stop acting like you wouldn't jump my bones this very second if I asked you to," he smiled as he spoke and you shoved at his arm.

"Would not! Harry, you have a girlfriend. You know I'd never do that."

Harry chuckled, "But you would be my girlfriend if I broke up with Birdie?"

You felt like you'd pass out. Was this happening? Harry was the only guy you'd ever felt anything for and he was gorgeous, fun, and your best friend. And now he was asking you this? Your answer was automatic, "Yes."

Harry's grin widened as he lifted his bum and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. You watched him pull up his messages and bring up Birdie's contact.

It was pretty late, nearing midnight. Birdie had known that you and Harry had gone to the amusement park together and you saw the messages from her that he'd not yet answered.

From Birdie: I thought you were coming over after?

From Birdie: Are you with her still?

Harry typed in his message quickly and hit send.

To Birdie: Yes. I'm with her. Sorry about doing this over text but it's late. I think we should break up. Have felt this way for a while. We'll talk about it tomorrow and I’ll explain.

You stared down at the phone as he locked the screen and put it face down on the bed.

Your heart was pounding in your chest when you looked up at Harry with new eyes. This all felt like a dream.

"There. I'm single now. Wanna go out with me, Y/n?" His smile was a bit cocky and you still had your mouth dropped open in surprise as you nodded.

"Okay. Yeah."

Harry wasted no time in leaning over you and cupping your face. He didn't press his lips to yours right away but you could feel his warm breath on your top lip. He smelled like mint and soap.

"Yeah? Are you serious? Because I don't just like you a little. I want you to be my girlfriend but this is more than that. You mean it?” Harry’s warm hands on your face felt dizzying.

You bit your lip to suppress the grin that was taking over and nodded, “I am. I’ve wanted that… this. I really like you, as more than a friend, Harry.”

Harry let out a sigh and closed his eyes before shifting to his knees, still with your face in his hands, his forehead to yours, “Fuck. Okay. Then I need you to understand me when I tell you this," Harry swallowed and you heard it and you felt his lips brush over yours briefly before he continued, "I'm in love with you, Y/n. I'm crazy about you."

Your lips were still parted. There was no part of you that didn't love every part of him and now he was here in your bed telling you he felt the same. It was insane how fast things changed from the moment you arrived at your bedroom until now.

"H... Harry... I love you too."

The moment the last word left your mouth his lips smoothed over yours in reckless haste. It was your first kiss with Harry, well like this because there had been the occasional peck of the cheek and forehead. But this kiss had your brain turned to putty. Your limbs were floating and your heart was bouncing around on the inside of your body. You lifted your arms to wrap around his neck and Harry moved his hands from your face down to your waist to pull you in close to him.

You’d kissed a handful of guys but none of them gave you butterflies the way this kiss did. None of those kisses filled your body with an ache and relieved the craving all at once. None of the kisses you’d had in the past felt like they’d change the course of your life like this one.

When his tongue pressed against yours you whimpered on accident, Harry broke from the kiss with a small laugh. His eyes were dark and his raspberry lips were wet and pinker than you’d ever seen them.

“God. So you’re my girlfriend? And you fucking love me?” Harry swallowed and let out a shaky breath as his chest rose and fell with a heavy breath, “I’ve just wanted you for so long. I feel like we’ve wasted so much time.”

Oh god did you want him too. For years. Everything about him was your ideal. You modeled every idea of a relationship after the friendship you had with him. You knew everything about one another and your feelings for him ran so deep that you felt it seep from the bottom of your feet and squish around with every move you made. Like stepping into the ocean and having your feet sink into the silky sand underneath. The kind that gets into your toenails and even after you’ve showered you find traces of it all over your clothes and your shoes and your floor. And then the night you saw his dick all those months back. You hadn’t stopped thinking about it. You’d only had a few quick boyfriends. One of them you had sex with but none of the guys you tried dating would come close to being like Harry.

You dropped your gaze to his crotch and noticed the sizeable bulge and you let out a laugh. It all felt so surreal.

Harry scoffed, “Looking down at the big guy? Do you want another peek at him so you can make a more informed decision as to whether you actually love me or not?” Harry’s words sputtered out in a laugh. He was always teasing like this. It felt like you two were back to normal but now there was a heavy blanket of sexual tension covering you both.

“Shut up! Do you think your dick is what made me love you?” You laughed and nudged at Harry but he grasped your wrist and kept you close. His smile had turned to something a little more seductive, the kind of smile you’d seen him give you before and you felt your tummy dip and soar. It was a smile that faded into something severe and tender. Like need and hunger.

“Probably. It’s what all the girls like me best for,” Harry chuckled and licked his lips. He was teasing obviously. Trying to be playful but you were reeling. You did want to see his dick again. You were already imagining what it might taste like in your mouth, what it would feel like inside of you…

“You’re so dumb,” you spoke with a smile and looked back down at the bulge and back up to him deciding to keep the moment light and teasing, “Okay. Yeah. Let’s see it again so I can decide if I want it near me or not,” you laughed and bit your lip as you looked at Harry. You both smiled and you watched as Harry bit his lip, mimicking your expression.

He kept his eyes on yours with his brows raised as if to say, challenge accepted. Harry was not one to shy away from showing his body. He was quite comfortable with himself. He’d walked around in front of you in boxers or naked (but covering his bits with a towel or a shirt) so many times you couldn’t count. He unbuttoned his pants and lifted his hips to drag them down his thighs. He paused for a moment, his eyes still on yours with a faint smile, head cocked to the side and brows still raised on his face as he pushed his boxers down and then took his t-shirt off swiftly, tossing it into the room. Some of his hair was pulled from the bun he had it in when he pulled his shirt off.

There it was. In all its glory once again. Long and thick and pink at the tip. Your breathing picked up and your head swirled in lust and you felt like you might pass out. But you wanted to touch him and you wanted him to touch you.

You lifted yourself to your knees and pulled your sweatpants down. You weren’t wearing panties but you knew where this was going. It was something you’d wanted for years. You decided that even if he didn’t want to have sex (which was highly unlikely) you’d be okay with that. But you wanted to have sex. The only time you’d ever done it was pretty okay. You liked it enough that you’d like to do it again, and you felt so close to Harry that you knew it would be better with him.

Harry’s gaze landed in between your thighs and his expression changed to something raw, carnivorous. His mouth parted and he couldn’t see your pussy but the view of your soft thighs and the way he knew you didn’t have a bra on under your thin t-shirt made him want to bite down on your smooth inner thighs.

When he reached for you to pull your body to his, you fumbled over his legs and he dragged you up to him where the bottoms of your thighs settled over the top of his, your legs straddling his hip as he leaned back. You pressed your lips to him and he put his hands on your sides. You both had no underwear on. If you moved up only a couple of inches your naked centers would come into contact.

Harry’s palms were gripping your sides keeping you in place. He wanted to bring you up to his dick and have you pressed to him, but he was holding back for your sake. He wasn’t sure if you wanted that or not, but you had taken your sweatpants off…

Harry’s mouth on yours, his tongue sweeping across your tongue, his strong hands holding your hips, the smell of his soap… it felt like everything you ever imagined. And you had imagined it. A lot. You often touched yourself thinking of the way his cock looked in his hand that night. In fact, ever since that night, you hadn’t masturbated to any other person. It had only been Harry from that day on. And now, you were sat in his lap with your warm centers so close you could feel the heat of it over your tummy.

You pushed at his shoulders and sat back to look at him. You wanted to pull your shirt off but there was a bit of you that was still feeling just a little shy. He couldn’t see that you didn’t have panties on yet. Once your shirt came off you’d be totally naked before him. He’d seen your pussy before, but that was in a moment of a sleep-filled lusty haze. There was no sleepiness to use as an excuse this time.

You brought your palms down over his chest and darted your eyes down to his cock. You licked your lips and looked back up at him. You knew he’d slept with three girls. He always told you about his sex life. He knew all about yours too. You hated that he’d been with other girls, far prettier than you thought of yourself.

But Harry hated that you’d been with anyone else as well. He wasn’t going to call himself a Casanova or anything but he knew he could be better with you than anyone else. Half the time he was with Birdie, he imagined it was you. He tried not thinking of you but anytime you two would hang out there was always flirting and teasing, and when he’d go to see Birdie after, if he had plans with her, he couldn’t get you off his mind and it was you he fantasized about.

When Harry began to grin at you because you were taking too long to make another move, which was true as you were just looking from his dick to his eyes, you laughed through your nose. It felt so silly to be shy around him, but at the same time, this was all new territory.

Harry started to laugh with you and then he softly pushed at you, making you fall to your back he kept his hands at your ribs and started tickling you to ease some of the tension because in all honesty, he was nervous too. You were laughing and kicking at him but Harry sat over your thighs keeping you from doing any damage and when he looked down that’s when he noticed your lack of panties. He paused his hands and softened them over your ribs, the pads of his fingers now faintly caressing your sides as he kept his eyes on your pussy. You watched his jaw go slack as he shamelessly inspected the way your thighs were pressed tightly together and how his cock was hanging right above you, it was beautiful, both of your naked bodies so near.

“Not wearing your knickers. That’s a surprise,” Harry smirked at you and brought his hands down to your bare hips and over your thighs and you watched as he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing harshly.

He pushed himself to hover over you and brought a hand down to your left thigh to spread your legs. He settled in between your thighs and leaned down to kiss you again. But this time he was directly over your body and you could feel the weight of his warm dick lying over your tummy and you moaned and spread your legs further. You knew you were already slick. You usually became wet anytime you were around him for long enough.

Harry groaned and you felt him rock down over you, his thick shaft digging down into you. He continued kissing and licking at your mouth when he reared himself back just a little, placing his cock over your pussy. When he nudged down a little to feel how warm you were he realized you were wet and he easily slid upward.

“God… Y/n. Fuck…” Harry moaned, not stopping his hips from rocking down over you.

You both continued moving together and kissing for long moments. It was something you thought you could do for all eternity. Harry’s heavy cock felt so nice in between your folds and being dragged up and down over your clit.

You whimpered when you began to tingle a little. You felt a little surprised that you could come like this, but of course, you could. It was Harry.

Harry stilled his hips and backed away from the kiss. His pupils were blown out and his lips were pink and puffy, “You’re so wet for me. Bet I could just slip right inside like this,” and he pushed down, nudging at your clit for emphasis.

You nodded, “Yes. I think you could…” you licked your lips and watched Harry’s face closely. You were hungry for anything he was willing to give.

“Can I lick your kitty for a bit,” Harry grinned as he said it. You laughed and nodded.

You held your breath as Harry moved down your body and he put his arms under your thighs and pushed you down into the bed. He looked up at you, still with that smirk on his face, and just as you were about to shove him for being goofy he opened his mouth and brought his tongue out to swipe up your wet folds. You were effectively rendered speechless.

He kept humming and you’d hear, “Mmm…” as he licked through your labia and over your clit. His eyes stayed on you as he ate you out. You watched as his tongue worked around your clit slowly and then he’d draw it into his mouth with a slurping noise. When he pulled his face away a bit to look down at your pussy you watched strings of your arousal from his mouth down to your pussy. He licked his lips, breaking the drips of arousal off and swallowing it down.

He focused his attention on your cunt and moved an arm out from under your thigh to rub his fingers through your folds. You moaned softly at the sensation and the way you were feeling so vulnerable under his close examination.

Harry looked back up at you, his fingers still working your pussy slowly, “You taste so good and you look so pretty. This pussy is the best pussy I’ve ever had, and we haven’t even really started yet.”

You panted when he spoke. You hadn’t expected those words to come out of his mouth. It was sometimes hard to be serious around him but this was no laughing matter. You were so turned on it hurt. You loved everything about this.

Harry returned his mouth to your cunt and then gently eased a finger into your entrance. You dropped your mouth open and let out gasps and felt your simmering blood turn to a boil as he sucked you in and licked you up. His finger massaging at your walls with the low murmur of the TV on in the background.

You put your hands into his hair and this made it come mostly out of the bun he’d had it in. It didn’t matter. He didn’t stop what he was doing to you and you yanked on his hair as you swayed your hips over his mouth.

You had to keep quiet, though. You still lived with your parents and they were just downstairs asleep. It was a conscious effort to keep your moans at a very soft volume, but the way his mouth felt on you had you wanting to be loud.

Harry began to groan a bit and with his cock desperate to be rubbed on something he rocked into the comforter under him, keeping his mouth on your pussy. You looked down at his face and he had his eyes squeezed shut. You could tell he was trying to get relief with the way his hips were grinding down into the bed. You pushed at his forehead a bit and he lifted his face, his lips ghosting over your wet pussy.

“Harry? Um…” you swallowed your nerves down, “… do you want to have sex?” You wanted to have sex. You wanted to feel him inside of you.

Harry’s brows shot up and he pushed himself up and looked around the room and back to you with a nod, “I mean… yeah. Of course I do,” he spoke with a laugh as he pumped his cock a few times for relief. He was aching already. Having his mouth on you was doing him in.

You sat up and finally pulled your t-shirt off over your head and Harry’s eyes widened. He climbed over you, pushing you back down to the bed, and attached his mouth to your tit and lapped around your pebbled nipple as he squeezed the other one under his palm gently.

He looked up at you and shook his, “Fuck,” before going down to kiss and suckle at your other breast.

You laughed when he nipped at you and he raised his head again, his hair all strung out and messy, half up in his bun, “How do you look like this and I never… shit Y/n. You’re so pretty,” he pushed himself up with his face scrunched, “I think I could cry. Fuck…” he palmed at both of your tits for a few more moments, watching as he smushed them together and pushed at your nipples. He couldn’t believe he was getting to grope you after all these years.

When he looked back up at your face you were smiling gently. He smiled back at you, biting his lips into his mouth, the indents in his cheeks carving inward, “Do you have a condom?”

You nodded and sat up again. Harry moved back to give you space and you pulled a packet from your bedside drawer and tossed it to him.

It felt so crazy to watch him naked in your bed as he slid a condom over his dick. A condom that he was putting on and was meant to be used with you. You were both going to have sex. Together. You had goosebumps over your skin but you felt hot. You had imagined this scene in your mind over and over again and now it was really happening.

“Do you want to get on top? Or what do you want? I’m not going to be picky here. I’m gonna like anything you want,” Harry spoke with a low voice as he settled next to you, his hand smoothing up over your hip to your tummy.

“Mmm…” you considered. You weren’t super experienced and the one guy you’d slept with never made you come so you weren’t sure what you liked the most, “Maybe you can start on top, and then we can switch to try with me on top if we feel like it?”

Harry nodded and squeezed your sides with a big smile. He pulled your face back to his and kissed you a little, his palm softly massaging your breasts. And in a smooth transition, Harry moved your legs apart and put himself between your thighs. He rubbed the insides of your soft thighs and got a good look at your pussy again before grasping himself and dragging the condom-covered tip through your slick flesh.

“Okay. Are you ready? Do you need anything first?” He wanted this to be the best you’d ever had. He didn’t want to do anything wrong and he wanted to make sure that you were happy and well-pleased with him. He wanted to be a good lover.

“I’m ready. Just need you,” you nodded and spoke in a whisper as you watched Harry’s arm flex when he lined himself up to you and began to gently and slowly move past your entrance. You watched Harry, his eyes on yours as he entered you for the first time. It was a gorgeous little stretch and pull and you gasped with a smile on your face.

Harry returned your smile and paused for a second. He wanted to enjoy this with you. He planned on going slow and connecting with you the whole time.

“Okay? Feels okay?” He breathed his words out and you nodded with a grin.

He began to push himself in further before he slowly reared back and then plunged in again, coating the condom with your arousal. Each time he backed out a little and then pushed back into you he got a bit deeper.

His languid strokes were slow and smooth. You were both panting and it felt so good. It felt like it was meant to. You were so happy, so beyond excited about Harry wanting you that your brain was fuzzy with joy and love and all those gushy gooey feelings. Harry leaned over you as he continued fucking into you slowly. He pressed his lips to yours and you opened your mouth up right away, licking his tongue and pushing your lips together with hot open-mouthed kisses.

You were glad the TV was on. It helped to drown out the noise of your mattress squeaking and the small moans and whines coming from you two. You kept quiet but you knew that if Harry sped up at all things would naturally become louder.

You rocked your hips upward each time Harry rolled his hips down into you, giving your clit the friction it needed. Harry kept his mouth over yours as his cock slid inside of you, deeper and deeper until he was pushed into the hilt and he let out a bit of a louder groan when he felt you squeezing him tight.

He lifted his mouth and with a small laugh he spoke, “Thank fuck for the condom or I’d already have been coming. You feel really good,” his grin was sexy and you lowered your hands to his bottom and pulled him in closer to you. He kept his eyes on you as he thrust upward into you, keeping himself fully sheathed inside of you.

You bit your lip and breathed hard through your nose. He was deep. It felt so good, though, to be connected to him this way and you nodded, “It does feel really good. I can feel you so deep, Harry,” your words were panted out as Harry continued rolling his hips upward to push your insides apart.

When he began to pull out to his tip and then glide inward you could hear how wet things were down there. Harry was grunting and he felt his groin get wetter and wetter each time he got balls deep. Part of him wished he get even deeper, push even further into you, lodge his cock into your guts so far that you two could never be apart again.

His cadence increased a little and the wet sounds of your bodies patting together were now just as loud as the TV. Though the volume was low, it was still an obvious noise of sex.

Harry put his hands into your hair and cradled your head as he fucked you, looking into your eyes, “I love you so much, Y/n,” his words were shaky breaths and he snorted a little at the end which had you laughing but when he gave you one harsh thrust you yelped and grasped onto his back with your fingers. He didn’t mean to thrust into you so hard but you felt so good. He couldn’t wait to start having sex with you all the time. This was the first time, though, so he really did want to go slow and make it meaningful, make it last and last. But he just knew that he’d be railing you so deep and hard and making you scream the next time. The first time, however, he wanted to show you his feelings, give you all of himself with a slow, decadent fuck and he wanted to savor the way you felt in his arms and on his dick.

Your mind was reeling from how he felt inside of you, the way his body felt over yours, how he made you feel so pretty and so loved, “I love you too, Harry…” you moaned your words and felt yourself being gently rocked upward at each of his plunges.

Harry began to shake a little, he felt his balls tighten and he knew he was going to come soon. He stopped rocking his hips and breathed for a moment to calm down. He wanted you to come first.

“Wanna get on top and ride me?” Harry kissed your lips after he asked and you nodded into his lips.

He quickly pulled out and got onto his back as you climbed over him and sat up. You placed your palms over his chest and Harry put his hands on your outer thighs, loving the view of your tits and your stomach on view for him. He was over the moon. It was also a nice reprieve for him to have you switch positions so he could regain his composure and not come too fast.

Harry watched you as you grasped his cock, wetted hair at the base, and the condom smooth underhand. You would love to feel him without the condom. You’d heard things about the extra friction and heat that could be felt without a condom, but you were just happy to be getting his cock at all.

With one hand on his chest to stabilize yourself and your other one holding his shaft steady, you sink over him slowly and watch the tip slip in. Harry held your hips and watched as your pussy spread for his girth and he twitched as you lowered only an inch. Once you got his head past your entrance, you kept him shallow inside of your cunt as you placed both palms at his chest and moved slowly just over his tip, really feeling the way it opened you up, savoring the thickness of him.

Harry smiled at moved his gaze from where you were connected to your eyes, “Just gonna fuck tip? S’that feel good like that, Y/n?” His voice was deep and strained.

You loved how it felt in fact, “God, Harry… it just feels so good. Just wanna, go like this,” you said as you pushed down over him, getting only a tiny bit deeper before moving back upward so he was nearly all the way out, and then fucking down on his tip again, “for just a minute. It’s so thick.”

Harry closed his eyes at your words. He knew he was large. But hearing you say it while you were naked and your pussy was gripping at his head, the little sounds of your arousal being plunged into, the smell…

Soon, though, you wanted to feel him pushing your wet walls apart again. You wanted him moving your insides around and feeling how much he could stuff you full. You lowered down further until you were seated over his lap with his balls tucked securely under your bottom. You ground over him for a moment, rubbing your clit onto his pelvis.

Harry moved his hands from your waist to your round bottom and he hung on tight as you rode his cock, slicking yourself up and down, with your hips angled to keep your clit in contact with him. It sent electricity through your body when you had his length inside of you this way. It was deeper when you were on top and it ached inside of your body as you moved down over him. You couldn’t help but start tearing up just a little because it was everything you’d wanted for years.

Harry was silent other than his own breathy grunts each time you moved down over him. He saw how you were getting a little emotional, but he was too. He pulled you down so he could press your lips together and he adjusted his hips and began to gently rock into you from his position. It was soft and slow still, but the springs in your mattress were squeaking in rhythm with his upward thrusts.

It was so intense, the way everything felt in your body, your heart was pounding and your mind was surging with thoughts of complete bliss to be loved in return by Harry. He loved you. He wanted you. His cock was pushing into your pussy and everything just felt so good. Your mouth and his mouth moved slowly, softly as you both moved your hips together.

When you suddenly felt the snap of your orgasm begin to pulse around your middle and the tingle started to spread from your tummy to your clit and then into your vagina, you knew it was going to wreck you. This wasn’t just going to be like the orgasms you achieve by rubbing at your clit quickly in bed each night. Harry's big dick was pressing into your g-spot with ease and the way he was moving into you meant you felt him inside of you and your orgasm was going come from inside of you as well.

Harry felt you begin to quiver and your mouth stopped moving on his when you began pulsing gently over his cock. He increased his speed of upward thrusts just a bit and the bed began to rock a little harder. The sound of wet skin making contact was in rhythm with the springs in your bed and you began to moan a little louder than you should have.

Harry knew you were coming when you began to shift over him faster and began to moan. He tried to put his mouth over yours to keep you quiet but you angled yourself away from him as you gasped and rocked your pussy over his cock, “Fuck, Harry! Holy shit!”

Harry laughed as you clenched his dick and your moans were so loud. He couldn’t stop you, though. And he just hoped your parents couldn’t hear you. You felt so good on him, coming and moaning and shaking in your orgasm.

Harry watched your face with your mouth dropped open and your tits bouncing as you used his cock for your pleasure. He threw his head back into the pillow and smiled as he gasped and spurted into the condom. He was in heaven, coming with you on him, your name falling from his mouth. He loved that his dick made you feel so good you lost control of yourself.

Harry panted and shut his eyes tight as he released his come, his orgasm finally giving him total relief.

You collapsed over him as you began to come down and breathed into his neck with a big smile on your face and a few tears on your cheeks. It was probably the happiest you’d ever been. All in one night Harry had admitted he liked you, then told you he loved you, then fucked you so good you cried. And now he was yours.

Harry rubbed over your back slowly and kissed your temple. He loved this moment. He knew there would be many more like this and it squeezed his heart just thinking of how you were his now.

You pushed yourself by your elbows and looked down at Harry and his disheveled hair. The band that held his bun in place was nowhere to be seen, his chest flushed with a big dimpled smile on his face.

“Harry…” you didn’t have anything in mind to tell him. You just wanted to say his name.

“Y/n…” he said to you as he pinched your bottom and you jumped but he held you down over him so you couldn’t move too far from him.

Everything felt so natural with Harry. So real and so fun and it just made sense now. You’d always been in love with him and he’d always felt the same for you.

You both smiled as you started to laugh again, “That was… the best. I’m gonna need to buy more condoms, though. Because we are doing that again.”

Harry nodded and breathed out a laugh, “Yeah? You wanna fuck me again, Y/n? S’that mean you like me?”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes and clenched down over his cock, squeezing him tight and Harry gasped. You waited for a moment before you responded but then with a smirk on your face and a hand at his temple brushing his hair back you said, “I fucking love you.”

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clarissalance · 4 years ago

Text

Who has the upper hand?

Pairing: Kaeya x G/N!Reader, mention of Varka and Diluc.

Warning: Slight swearing, Kaeya is a lil shit, reader being stubborn and scheming, immense tension

Summary: You’re so terrible at swordsmanship that you can’t withstand 2 strikes from Kaeya or, are you?

Word count: 3k5

Disclaimer: What is written in here is based on my imagination, nothing from this fic should be taken seriously. Most of the fact I put in this fic does not follow the lore of the game so it should only be taken as a grain of salt. For example: section 8 in Knight of Favonius codebook.

A/N: I struggle so much when I wrote this piece. This was suppose to be angstier but I tone down a little bit (because Kaeya was very OOC in my draft, I think he’s still a bit OOC in this fic but I tried my best ;-;, pls don’t bite me.)

How did author write a 50k+ oneshot? I can’t write something more than 5k properly ;-; Anyhow, please enjoy this fic. I’m going to have a good rest for 2 weeks before release a comeback. Please shower Kaeya and our new MC with a lot of loves!!!!

As a strategist of the knight of Favonius, you don't usually have enough time to finish the towers of reports, the never-ending meetings and dealing with cheap tricks Fatui diplomats. Often, you have to skip your daily sword training session, which results in a rather miserable situation. The whole practice ground is staring holes at your defeated posture. You are sitting on the hard soil ground, and the Calvary captain is towering you, his sharp blade just a few inches away from your throat.

It is not a strange scene for any knights to lose a spar against the Calvary captain, he should be one with the best swordsmanship after Grand Master, and maybe Acting-Grand Master, too. However, as knight, they can usually withstand him at least more than 2 blows.

Whispers and talks start to circulate around as soon as you stepped your foot in the training ground. It’s very uncommon to see people from that department wandering around this area. The strategy department is famous inside the Knight of Favonius to be the weakling-cunning-mouthy-jerks, who always find excuses after excuses to skip the monthly knight evaluation.

So, who gives them the right to be exempt from the test? Of course, it’s from the ultimate high chief of strategy department. Rumours say before the strategy chief works for the Favonius knight, the man was once a legendary attorney. That person can flip words from black to white, turns the defendant from guilty to innocent. With a profound convincing skillset coming from the chief, persuading the Grand Master Varka is easy as a piece of cake. The whole department of 10 people is easily off-hook for 3 years, never participate in the monthly evaluation before the man suddenly dropped the bomb 2 days ago.

“ I’m tired from coming with excuses to cover for your lazy asses.” The man waved his hand, his eyes staring outside the window. His nails scratching the messy shaved chin.“ Varka seems to get used to navigating my thoughts-”

“Maybe time is wearing away your skill-” At the corner, someone accidentally blurted out, and the whole table gave him a sharp look. Did he have a death wish or something? If so, everyone here can happily dig him a hole, free charge for the coffin.

The chief cleared his voice again, blue eyes melancholy drifted to the table. “So, you guys have tried your best on this monthly evaluation. I hope to see you all again next month.”

The meeting was dismissed afterwards, and everything spiralled into chaos. The whole department hasn’t touched anything aside from the parchment papers and the quills in the last 3 years. How are they going to master the swordman-ship in 2 weeks?

But, the worst thing is,

Your well-respected, talented, and tactful chief has run away.

The next morning, you received the news that a foxy old man is on a business trip to Fontaine with the Grand Master. The expedition is 2 weeks long.

You should have known what he meant when the deceitful man ambiguously ended his sentence like that. Nothing goes well when the chief said: ‘Farewell, my comrades’.

For the last 2 days, you have been starting to familiarize yourself again with how to hold a sword and how to swing the sword.

As you trail along with the long-forgotten memories, trying to look through the familiar feeling when swinging the sword, you hear footsteps coming in your direction. It is familiar, with the way the person is walking, the beat, the sudden burst of noise in the air, you can only conclude it’s the Calvary Captain. The practice ground seems livelier as soon as the man steps inside, people rushing to his side to give their greetings. Maybe today is one of his practice days.

“ Never thought I would see you here.” The young man calls out, successfully jostle you up from your thoughts. You give him a complex look and turn away, focusing on the tattered dummies. Your wrist is screaming in protest, legs wobbling. You remember those golden days when you were young when you were flexible, and your bones didn't crack as much. Oh, where the golden days have gone?

“What do I own the honour of seeing you here, captain?” You fold your arm defensively, voice monotonously. Kaeya despites the most when you start talking in an emotionless tone. Oh, how you love riling him up in the middle of the practice ground!

“ I come here for my weekly practice, but-” He shrugs, eyes glinting with mischief. “ look like the rumour about the abolishment of special permission for the strategy department is true.”

So he has heard the rumours. You roll your eyes, face blanks. You know Kaeya has his own way to obtain his information, but you never thought it’d be this fast. Words don’t easily leak from the strategy department.

“What do you need? Make it short, so I can practice for the upcoming evaluation.” Tired of his long introduction, you ask him directly. If you are going to ignore him any longer, the man will continue poking you.

Starting an argument only wastes your time, and asserting dominance in the middle of the training ground won’t boost your ego. You’re a strategist, your weapons are detailed plans and sharp word, not sword and bow. Showing off your strength in front of those ruthless knights don't improve your relationship with them.

“ Straight the point eh?” You give him an impatiently look, tempting to ignore him again before he flashes you a smug grin. “How bout sparing with me?”

The whole training ground falls in silence, and you direct at the captain a confusing look. Is he serious? No one in the knight except the Grand Master can go against him, not to mention someone who hasn’t touched a sword for three years.

“I can help you with your training, and you can help with mine” Kaeya speaks with utmost confidence that you almost nod and agree. That man is really deceitful, he knows how well your skill has gone dull, yet he still wants to practice with you? What is this man plotting?

“ Do you realize how absurd your offer is? ” You give him a complicated gaze, voice unwavering. Everyone takes in a deep breath, tension crackling. It's not everyday scenery you often encounter. A heated argument between the mischievous cavalry captain and the tactful strategist. Nosy people gather around the pair, internally hoping for the war the breaks out.

“ You know well that I can’t properly block your first strike.” Light-hearted, you joke, but there is no hint of amusement in your voice. Sharpe eyes glaring at the blue figure, you notice the man remains unfazed.

" Shouldn't you choose a more competent opponent?"

The sound whispers and talking about the reasons why Kaeya picked such an easy opponent start to circulate, and you can’t help to curl your lips up. Within a few seconds, you have effortlessly turned the gossiping direction toward your desired path. Flashing Kaeya a victorious grin, you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for his reaction.

You should have worked at PR damage control or marketing instead! The diplomat would have been fine too! At least, you wouldn’t need to practice swordman-ship.

As you mulling on your terrible choice of career, a chill runs down your spine. Tilting up, Kaeya is beaming sweetly at you, the frost slowly creeping up and nipping your shoes. Look like you just pressed the wrong button.

The man narrows his eyes, and you gulp nervously, avoiding his calculating gaze. Kaeya chuckles, his voice laced with worry, wavering and hurtful.

“I just want to help you improve as fast as possible. The test is coming in two weeks isn't it?”

The whole table has turned, and people start to say how considerate and thoughtful the cavalry captain is. The crowd starts to criticize you and tell you to be more grateful and stop suspicious of his unconditional help. Oh, you wish he wasting it on you, many knights in this training ground would love getting advice and improvements from him.

Applause for our dear Calvary captain, smoothly seeking empathy from the crowd and turning the favour back to him. No wonder how fast he climbed up the rank.

Bantering and arguing with a person like him is meaningless, so you accept his offer and drag your sword toward his direction. Let finish this within 2 strikes.

Moving to the centre of the field, both of you face each other, his eyes scanning you sceptically. What is this man plotting again? Bowing, you finally give him a warning look before standing at your ready position. Kaeya holds his sword, analyzing your starting posture.

As soon as the whistle blows, you charge at the man, opening the spar with a direct hit. Kaeya quickly raises his word up to block the first blow, the sound of steel clashing loudly. He then forcefully diverts the sword to the left, a classic way to counter the strike.

Knowing your limited strength against him, you take a step back and swiftly angle the blade downward, aiming for a weak spot at his waist. This move would create a noticeable weakness on your right, and only the idiot doesn't use this as his advantage to disarm you.

You’re right, he uses the loophole you planned, successfully disarm you within 2 strikes. The sword slips from your hand clanging loudly behind as your foot slips and fall on the ground.

His sharp blade is just a few inches away from your neck. The calvary captain wears a solemn look, his cerulean eyes imbued with irritation. Seems like he figures out you purposefully planed to end the match in 2 strikes.

Quickly raising your hand in defeat, you shoot him a taunting grin. The referee declares Kaeya is the winner, and people start to clap and cheer loudly, but overall no one is surprised. As the match end, audiences start to disperse, return back to their tasks.

Kaeya put his sword away and offers you his hand. You stare idly at the gloved hand a moment before putting yours on. The man effortlessly pulls you up, your body flush against his. With Kaeya so close to you, your first reaction is to push the man away, but his firm grip says otherwise. He inches closer, dark blue locks brush your cheek, tall figure towering you intimidating.

“Why end it so early?” He leans down and whispers, your body tenses up visibly. “Surely, you could handle more than 2 strikes of mine.” The young man in blue hums, his voice sultry.

“ What are you saying? I haven’t touched the sword more than 3 years.” You remind him, hands pushing his chest away, trying to create some distance. The man doesn’t budge an inch.

“Your strikes doesn’t say so. The first strike was not bad.” Noticing your effort to push him away, Kaeya stands straight, heels dig into the ground. His lips curl up at the helplessness flashing in your eyes. He loves seeing you struggle, seeing how anxiety and desperation rising in your sparkling orbs. “I think you could at least have a decent fight with me.”

“ Quit spouting non-sense Kaeya, let me go. We are in public.” You let out an annoyed hiss, punching his toned chest. He still wears the uniform improperly like that, the exposed tan chest can be under many layers. Sometimes you don't even know the reason why doesn't he just button the shirt up properly. Finger grazing at the bared skin on his chest, you turn your head away, cheeks heat up.

The man loves seeing you squirming in his trap, and you’re not going to let him see that. Anything, but satisfying his masochist hobby.

“You don’t like skin-ship?” The man fakes a gasp, his orb sparkles with mirth. “But you were being touchy with your friend. Why can't we be a bit touchy? ” His tone suggestively, the tall man snickers at your blushing mess. Out of everything, why would he mention that? You give him stinky eyes, brows furrow deeply.

“I’m not touchy with you.” You deny dreadfully. Archon, how long have you wasted your time here with this slithering serpent?

Kaeya arms wrap tightly around you, your body moulds perfectly into his embrace. You hate how perfectly you fit into his hug like this, but you can’t deny how warm he is, despite the fact he wields cryo.

“ When will you let me go?” Your voice starts to grow weak, dragging slightly in discomfort. Kaeya curiously looks down, noticing your pouting. Sensing his gaze, you turn your head away but his fingers have quickly grabbed your cheek, forcing you to look at his deep blue eye.

“Give me a kiss, then I'd let you go.” His voice serious, but what he just said is not. You look at the cryo wielder horrendously, mouth gaping. His face is composed and relax, like what he just ask is like asking about the weather, asking about your health, not for a kiss. Is he being serious? What in the world did he just ask? A kiss? Excuse me, a what?

“You...you are not being serious.” You wriggle your way out, escaping from his fingers, but his embrace tightens, caging you inside. Damn it, Kaeya. He’s messing with you.

When you flash him a furious look, the man shrugs nonchalantly, his cerulean lock fluttering gently in the wind. Suddenly, you have an urge to wipe off that calm demeanour. He can’t be serious. Why does he have to go all the way to annoy the shit out of you?

The smug grin hanging on his face, the mischief in his blue eyes, the arching brows, everything about him screams a flirt, yet you feel so mesmerized. Blinking a few times, you have to constantly remind yourself this man is not trustworthy. From the attitude to the way he looks at you, to the way he acts around you. Nothing from his action is truthful. Like Diluc’s warning, you can only believe half of his word and action.

“ Of course I’m being serious.” His voice solemn, but you can see the amusement in his eyes. If he doesn’t like you, why would he spend so much effort bothering you this much? What reaction is he expecting from you?

“ I really like you, Y/N” Kaeya confesses cheerfully, and you can faintly hear a few gasps around. Not this again...

Archon, you’re going to die early at this rate. You just want to practice for the upcoming evaluation, not becoming a hot topic for all Mondstadt citizen to gossip about.

And this man too, how can he easily slip out those words when you just heard him flirting with another woman the other day? You already told him numerous times that you’re not interested in dating him, or anyone right now!

Hung your head down in exhaustion, you tap his shoulder, mumbling quietly. “ Fine, fine.” You finally open your mouth, too exhausted and bothered by his stubbornness. He only wants a kiss, and you won’t hurt giving him one. Just a kiss then you can get back to your practice.

“Just don’t confess your love to me in a crowd like this again.” Before closing the deal, you weakly add a bargain, nudging him.

The calvary captain looks surprised, his eye widens little, not expecting you to agree. Normally, it takes another argument or two before you comply with his request. Kaeya timidly raises his gloved hand to your face, gently caresses your cheek. This time, you lean into his touch, nuzzling your face into his palm, eyes glimmering softly. Despite a cryo wielder, his hand is surprisingly warm.

The man in blue curiously peeks at you, he feels like a feather tickling the itchy spot. Are you plotting an escape route? Since when did you become so obedient? He has never seen the soft fur under the spiky façade you set up to face with the world, but strangely, he likes this version of you more.

Noticing his relaxed stance, you carefully gently wrap your fingers around his wrist while keeping eye contact with him. Kaeya eye widens, startles at your sudden touching. Trying your best to not break the unspoken connection, you bring his hand away from your cheek. In those cerulean eyes, you see a hint of disappointment, but it quickly dissolves. Slowly, you draw closer toward the hand hanging in the air, lips fluttering on the smooth skin on his wrist.

The calvary captain instinctively moves back, trying to escape from your sudden contact. Ironic, he is the one who innates the hug and demands a kiss from you. Tightening your grip, you press your wet lips on the exposed part of his wrist dedicatedly while maintaining eye contact with him, eyes drown with submission.

Kaeya stares at you in awe, maybe not expecting the passionate look in your eyes. His azure eye fills with mischief, now replaces with confusion and hesitation. You notice how his ears have dusted with pink despite the winds blowing in the practice ground. The man avoids your eyes, flustering.

Whispers and gasps start to remind you of the crushing reality, so you let his hand down while grinning cheekily at the cryo wielder. Poking and breaking Kaeya meticulously façade is always something you want to try. The man is a living devil, so it’s extremely unusual to see him losing his composure.

Sneakily, you untangle his other arm wrapping around your waist, plotting an escape route.

However, Barbatos doesn’t let you slip away that easily. Quickly regaining his composure, Kaeya snakes his hand around your hip again, tightening his hold. Unlike the first time, the sneaky bastard lifts you up and has the audacity to throw your body on his shoulder, carry you like a sack.

“ Yah! What are you doing?” You exclaim, fluster at his sudden antic. Kicking and punching on his shoulder, you try as many as you can, but somehow, Kaeya manages to dodge all of them.

“ You said you will let me go when I give you a kiss!” The crowd uproars, stares and gossips poke pointedly at your back. You don’t want to hear those comments from those knights again. They're not going to let this live down, aren't they? Bury your face in the Kaeya's furry collar, you let out a frustrating sigh, punching his shoulder as hard as you can.

“ You give me a kiss on my wrist. That doesn’t count.” Kaeya nonchalantly strides away from the practice ground, unfazed by your attempt to escape. This man is a beast, how can he not budge an inch with all of your kickings on his shoulder?

“ You didn’t specify the place. A kiss is a kiss!” You emphasize, and you can feel his shoulder shaking. Is he laughing? “You didn’t keep your promise.” Fuels by the rising anger, you kick your leg aggressively, struggling to free yourself from the iron-clad grip. This time, his strong arm wraps around your calves like a chain.

As soon as you raise your head up, the familiar pathway hits your memories. Shit, he is heading toward the headquarter, likely to his office. You can’t let anyone in there see you in this state. Punching his back profusely, you shot back.

“Not fulfilling the contract is breaking the Knight of Favonius's code of cond-.” Before you can finish your sentence, the man smacks your calves loudly, successfully shutting your mouth. Speechless by his sudden punishment, you let out a disbelief breath.

“ There are no such a section states about fulfilling contract inside the code of conduct, so stop making the rule up.” Kaeya smugly grins, and you can already picture his blue eyes glinting with mischief, the signature shit-eating grin on his handsome face.

" There is, it's in section eight-" Before you can finish your sentence, Kaeya cuts in, waving his hand dismissively.

" Section eight is about interaction with your co-worker, there is none about keeping contracts." The calvary captain humming, trying to recalling the content of the book. Speechless by the detailed memories of his, you can only close your mouth, quietly waiting for him to drop you down. If you stay still on his shoulder, will he let you go?

" You know, not everyone reads and memories the knight of Favonius handbook, you are just unlucky that I know the book by heart." Seeing you deflate weakly on his shoulder, Kaeya lets out a chuckle, patting your head comforting.

Before heading inside the HQ, the man doesn't drop your down but leans in closely, his whisper tickling your ear. “But at least I had fun seeing you squirming in my grasp.”

And then it hits you, the bastard purposely falls for of your antic.

#kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #kaeya x reader #no beta we kayak like tim #genshin impact #clarissalance #who has the upper hand ?#argument #fluff #tension #smart reader #strategist #genshin varka #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years ago

Text

when i’m dreaming--calum hood oneshot

yeah so i’m going through something so this is very, very self-indulgent.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: drinking linked a little with coping, going through a depressive low, best friend!calum

feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

***

Calum notices something is wrong the minute she steps outside. He was about to take a drink of his white claw, but his eyes went to her nails when she pulled Crystal in for a hug. She typically paints them to match her mood and today they’re opalescent pink, barely noticeable but still there. In plain sight but still visible while she secretly wants to be invisible.

She smiles and cracks jokes with everyone she says hello to then when she steps in front of Calum, he sees the sadness in her eyes. They’ve been best friends for awhile now, they’ve shared secrets, stories of first loves and heartaches, their fears, their wildest dreams. But there was always something she kept hidden, tucked away in a box welded shut.

“Hey bud,” she sighs.

“Hey short stuff,” he grins playfully pulling her in for a hug. Her arms wrap around him and he makes sure to give her an extra tight squeeze.

“I’m not that short,” she grumbles in his chest.

“You’re shorter than me,” he reminds rubbing her shoulder with his thumb. Although her arms are loose around him he can feel the tension in her shoulders that she’s carrying.

“Stop hogging her! I haven’t seen her in weeks!” Ashton exclaims and Calum pulls away.

He knows it was too soon to break the hug but to keep up with her own façade he doubts anyone else sees, he does it.

“Hey, you’re the one who disappeared into the desert for all those weeks,” she jokes rising on her toes to loop her arms around Ashton’s neck.

He gives her a big bear hug that lifts her a few inches off the ground, Calum sees her nails digging into her arm as she squeezes him.

“Had to recenter myself, you should try it sometime,” Ashton teases right back. As if she was shocked, she removes herself from the hug then accepts a bottle of Mike’s from Luke.

“I can take something stronger than this, Hemmings,” she takes a large chug regardless.

“Yeah? Like tequila? I got some limes,” he jerks his thumb behind him towards the drink table.

“I said stronger not deadly. You know I can’t handle tequila,” she scrunches her nose.

Everyone else laughs but alarms are going off in Calum’s head.

“Yeah, the floor of my Tesla doesn’t like tequila either,” Michael chimes in with a tray of shots.

“I told you to pull over,” she shrugs lifting up a shot. She takes a whiff and nods in approval at his selected alcohol choice.

“I was going 75 on the freeway!”

“And that’s why I threw up. Ready?” she lifts her glass.

Calum meets her eyes as over the hands of their friends as Ashton gives an impromptu speech about friendship and long rides. He wasn’t really paying attention because when their eyes locked, he saw the panic, he saw the fear of whatever was going on in her head.

The next time he sees her is at the movies. Her eyes are darker along with her nails that are now a hunter’s green; camouflaged but still visible. While they’re waiting in line for snacks, he lifts her hand in his and runs his thumb over the color.

“This is a pretty color, I’ve never seen it on you before,” he says.

“Yeah, um…wanted to try something different,” she shrugs. “Do you want the blue icee?”

“Is that even a question?” he raises a brow, and she laughs.

Once they’re settled in the seats the previews start. Calum opens up the bags of sweet and sour treats while she opens the boxes of milk duds. The large bowl of popcorn (with extra butter) is settled between them, long red straws sticking out of their frozen drinks.

Throughout the whole movie, it’s an action romantic comedy, Calum keeps glancing at her. He watches her fingers disappear in the popcorn bowl, her hunter’s green nails appearing black in the dark theater. Calum’s seen enough movies to know this moment is foreshadowing the darkness she’s slipping into. He’s preparing himself for the fall but he’s not entirely sure she is.

Two weeks have gone by and he hasn’t seen her since the movie. Their schedules didn’t align so he decided to surprise her with takeout from her favorite Asian restaurant and chocolate cake from her favorite bakery.

When he opens the door, he hears Friends playing on her tv and he finds her horizontal on the couch. The hood of her sweatshirt is over her head, her arms wrapped around her torso, her black nails clutching the fabric.

Calum braces himself for what he’s walking into, sets the food on her counter and crouches in front of her. He pulls her hoodie back a little so he can see her face a bit better, her eyes are distant and staring off behind him.

“Hey,” he says softly then touches her hand. It’s very cold. “Y/N.”

Upon hearing her name does she finally look at him. Her eyes have filled and spilled with her tears in a matter of seconds. He links her fingers through his.

“Hi,” she mouths, her voice barely registering.

“Is this about…him?” he asks delicately.

About a year ago he chipped away at the welding on the box. He knows it involves a guy. He knows it’s about bad timing. He knows it’s about deep emotions.

She nods and the tears erupt more. She buries her face in her hands then adds another layer by hiding in the pillow.

“Nope, nope, hey,” he tugs on her arms. She’s pliant and allows him to drag her in a sitting position. He takes the place where her head was then brings her onto his lap. “I’ve got you, I’m right here.” He murmurs and pulls her hoodie down so he can rub at her hair.

She sobs loudly into his neck. Calum holds her as tight as he can, murmuring comforting words in her ear. Her sobs would subside, but he wouldn’t let go until she did. She’s very good at keeping her emotions at bay and even better at keeping people further away from her harbor. She doesn’t ask for help often, she doesn’t open up too much and when she does it’s always the footnoted version.

Three episodes of Friends later, her hold lessens, she gives a big sniff and peels herself away from Calum. He uses the sleeves of his shirt to wipe at her tears and nose.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, and she shakes her head. “I brought food. I’ll heat it up for you.”

She nods and falls back onto the couch. He rubs her knee then heads into the kitchen. When the food is prepared on plates he brings it to her and she takes it, scarfing down the first few bites heartily.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she finally speaks when her plate is empty.

“I know,” he nods looking over at her until she meets his brown eyes. “It’s okay.”

Calum ends up staying the night, his mind reeling from what the history is with this mystery guy. His thoughts get away from him as he stares at the ceiling above the couch. Was he some celebrity that kept her under the radar and broke her heart repeatedly? A Prince from some far-off country that got her hopes up and crushed them again and again?

He’s tossing and turning until he hears the shower turn on. Sad songs play over and over on her speakers, her voice singing along with the yearning words. Ghostin’ by Ariana and When the Party’s Over by Billie replay one after another.

She’s really hurting.

Calum bounds off the couch and opens the bathroom door.

“Y/N?” he makes sure his voice is a little louder than the music.

A sniff. “Yeah?” her voice is thick.

“Just want you to know I’m here,” he shuts the door and sits next to the shower.

His heart aches when he hears her crying again, the vocals echo and bounce off the tiles. Her sadness fills the room just as it’s filled in the hidden box of the guy who’s making her feel this way.

Four more repeats go by and the shower is finally shut off. Calum scrambles off the floor, sees her tug the towel from the door of the shower. Her shadow figure wraps it around herself and she opens the door. Her skin is red from the hot water, as are her eyes and cheeks from crying more tears. He grabs another towel and helps dry her hair while she stands there avoiding her reflection in the mirror.

“It’s been five years, why do I still feel like this?” she asks quietly.

“It hurts the most when it meant something.”

He left the bathroom after he dried and brushed her hair then waited for her in her bedroom. There’s pictures on her desk from high school. Her and some guy at prom. Her and the same guy a little bit older posing in a selfie on a couch, drunken smiles on their faces. Her and the same guy a little older again posed outside.

This must be from that box. She’s cracked it open and Calum is staring at some of the pieces that have broken her wholly.

“His name’s Henry,” she explains suddenly behind him.

Calum turns to her voice. The drastic change from the happy girl in the photos to the sad girl before him startles him. He remains silent to let her speak or to go into silence again. She moves onto her bed, sitting in the center and tucks her legs against her chest.

“We never dated. But we were always…together. Together in the physical sense for four years,” she continues. Calum joins her cautiously on the bed and listens. “Back and forth always. After every relationship we fell back into each other. He’s the longest relationship I’ve had, and it wasn’t even a real one.

“We cared about each other, and…I think he loved me. Time wasn’t on our side. It was too much or too little, I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Just when I think I’ve let go; I dream of him. Then he’s on my mind for days. And now this time…” she shakes her head and Calum pulls her against him. “I went on socials and I found out that he um…he’s a dad now. And I feel so stupid because that could have been me if we kept what we had. I feel stupid because a part of me wanted it to be me.”

Calum doesn’t fully understand the ins and outs of their relationship, but four years of physical affection and a rock to lean on, that’s a lot of history. He also doesn’t fully understand how this guy didn’t make it official with Y/N. She’s the perfect best friend with a big heart.

Calum wishes he knew her in school because he would have been the one to take her to prom. He would have been the one take her to movies and dinners and surprise her with flowers. He would have made it official rather than keep her guessing.

“I’m really going through it and I don’t know how to get out,” she whispers sadly.

“I think…” Calum heaves a big sigh and kisses her wet head. “I think you’re just cracking the surface of breaking free. I can tell he meant a lot to you and you meant a lot to him. Even if he never said it, you’ll always be a part of him just like he’ll be a part of you. Someone that important won’t just poof away.”

“But I want him to, it hurts.”

“I know it does, sweetheart. I’ll help you in any way I can, okay?”

“You’re so understanding and you’re so good, but I don’t want to cry over another guy when you’re here.”

“That’s what best friends do.”

She turns her head and gazes up at him. He notices the storm in her eyes aren’t as dark, her lips are chapped from the cracking of memories she spilled out.

“Calum, you’re more than my best friend.”

He hears a deeper truth in her statement, and it causes his breathing to quicken. The subtle yet very noticeable flick of her eyes to his lips causes him to react. He gives her a quick peck, but that smallest touch sent an enormous shock through his system.

They settle against her pillows, the kiss wasn’t awkward, but it filled them both with questions. Questions that will be answered at a different time because right now he wants to hear this most vulnerable part of her life. She takes his hand in hers first and plays with his fingers while she talks.

He makes comments and asks questions to try and understand a bit more. Calum kisses her head when her voice starts to shake. Hours go by and the sky starts to lighten, birds are awakening.

“Hey,” she says right as he’s about to fall asleep. They talked all night, but she quieted down about twenty minutes.

“Hm?” he opens his eyes.

“We match.”

He looks down at their intertwined fingers when she taps on his nail. His polish is chipped away from chewing on a hangnail then smiles at the black color. He lifts their hands and kisses their knuckles.

“I feel what you feel.”

“What exactly do you feel?”

“I felt you slipping. I can sense your emotions when no one else can, and I guess I painted my nails subconsciously because I didn’t want you to be alone in the dark,” he explains. She’s quiet for a moment and he thinks she really fell asleep this time.

“Thank you. I don’t think I’ll be this bad again.”

“If you are, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.”

“Cal?”

“Hmm?” he sighs. It’s getting harder to keep his eyes open, but he doesn’t want her to stop talking. He doesn’t want her out of his arms.

“When I’m dreaming tonight it will be of you.”

Taglist: @calpalirwin @myloverboyash @loveroflrh @cxddlyash @princesslrh @spicylftv @notinthesameguey @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sarcastically-defensive17 @another-lonely-heart @devilatmydoor @thatscooibaby @suchalonelysunflower @dead-and-golden @mymindwide @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @karajaynetoday @quasighost @i-like-5sos @creampiecashton @calpops @littledrummeraussie @sexgodashton @f-mu

#best friend!cal #calum hood oneshot #calum hood angst #calum fluff #calum hood fluff #calum 5sos writing #calum 5sos #5sos writing #calum hood 5sos #calum fic #calum hood fic

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janetbrown711 · 4 years ago

Note

“I just really miss talking to you.” Wakko dot

A week had passed since the funeral, and the warner siblings could feel the ticking clock on when they expected their grandmother to strike everywhere they went. She hadn’t done anything in so long, it was highly suspicious.

However, there simply wasn’t anything they could do anymore. their parents were dead, simple as that. Whatever protection they had before had now evaporated into thin air-

Well, unless you were Yakko, who was determined now more than ever to be his sibling’s shield and protector from their grandmother. He swore an oath to himself he’d never let anything bad happen to either Wakko or Dot ever again- not if he had any say in it. He was their guardian now, simple as that.

The queen seemed to understand this somehow, as she summoned Yakko to the throne room for a private discussion. Regarding what, she wouldn’t say. Reluctantly, Yakko left his sibs alone in the playroom and met with his grandmother.

“Yakko,” she nodded at him, still wearing the veil.

“Grandmother,” He said coldly.

“A short temper will get you nowhere in life, even you ought to know that by now,” she shook her head disapprovingly.

“I’ve summonsed you to inform you that Angelina will be beginning her lessons with me by this time tomorrow, right after yours are finished,” The old queen said.

“What? But she isn’t even five yet, she’s not old enough for schooling,” Yakko protested. “And what about Wakko? You still haven’t started his tutoring and he’s eight, should he be your focus?”

“I don’t educate wild animals,” she brushed it off. “And as for Angelina being too young, that’s ridiculous. A lady is never too young to get some manners in her.”

“It’s only been a week since Mom and Dad-”

“Died, yes, I’ve been plenty patient,” She nodded to herself.

“Patient-?” Yakko stepped back in bewilderment at her self-assurity.

“Are you really questioning me?” She raised an eyebrow from behind the veil- or at least, Yakko assumed she did. With how thick it was impossible to tell, but it seemed something she’d do. Yakko shook his head.

“No, grandmother,” he looked at the ground.

“Head up, Yakko, you’re a prince for crying out loud,” she scolded, and he obeyed.

“So...?” he asked quietly. The queen sighed, annoyed.

“So Angelina begins her lessons tomorrow, and I expect you to make that known to her.” she declared.

“Right... okay,” He knew better than to fight with her any bit more than he already had.

“Oh, and one more thing I forgot to mention: I’m separating yours and Wakkorotti’s rooms,” She said.

“Wh-what? Why? What harm does us sharing rooms do?” Yakko did his best to sound in control.

“Wakkorotti is a distraction for you and Angelina. It is my duty as queen to prepare you for the throne, and for her to become a lady, and part of that si separating you from the filth... though if you’d prefer I move him to the tower, that is an option I’m more than willing to take,” She smirked. Yakko growled.

“No, that’s fine,” he said.

“Good,” she smiled. “Run along then. I expect her to be there as soon as our lesson is over. No later, no earlier, understood?”

“Understood,” he nodded begrudgingly.

The moment Yakko was safe to tear his grandmother’s arms off, he wouldn’t hesitate.

“Good. You are dismissed,” she waved her hand, and Yakko left the throne room.

So... great. Another thing for him to worry about.

Dot wasn’t even five yet, but now she was going to be exposed to her grandmother’s influences. Yakko just hoped she wouldn’t start acting like he did when he started taking lessons- he still couldn’t believe it took seeing her hit Wakko to snap him out of being a total jerk. Sure- he was only eight at the time, but still. It was bad.

He really hoped Dot would be different.

And Wakko... how on earth was he supposed to tell him that? It’d sound like Yakko didn’t want him anymore- which wasn’t good. Of course, he could always blame the queen- it was her fault really- but that could get him mad which he also doesn’t want.

Was this how his parents had felt 24/7? if so, Yakko felt really bad for them, all those times he insisted on knowing or just plain making problems worse.

A wave of numbness washed over him, and Yakko tried to suppress it as he entered the playroom once more.

“Yakko! We’re playing Dragon Princess,” Dot grinned up at him.

“Oh? And what’s that?” Yakko sat down on the floor next to them.

“It’s a game where you’re either a dragon or a princess, and if you guess wrong, the dragon eats your face,” Wakko grinned, showing him the doll. Yakko snorted.

“Sounds fun,” He chuckled.

“So... what did grandmum want?” Wakko asked cautiously. Yakko sighed.

“Dot, you’ll be beginning lessons with grandma tomorrow, right after my own end. And Wakko... you’re moving bedrooms.”

“What? Why?” both said in unison.

“Well... I started lessons with grandma when I was five,” Yakko decided to address Dot’s questions first.

“That’s not fair, Wakko doesn’t take lessons,” She frowned and crossed her arms.

“Yeah! Why don’t I get lessons?” he huffed and copied his sister’s motion.

“Wakko, you don’t even like her. Why would you want lessons?” Yakko pointed out.

“Well- I... uh...” Wakko came up blank.

“She’s mean, I don’t wanna,” Dot turned up her nose.

“Dot, you don’t have a choice,” Yakko said. “Bad things happen when we disobey her, remember?”

Dot paused at that, making eye contact with Wakko. She lowered her head.

“Okay...” she mumbled.

“What about me? Why do I have to move rooms?” Wakko frowned.

“It’s out of my control, Wak. I wish I could explain, but you know how she is...” Yakko sighed, figuring that was the best way he could explain without hurting Wakko further.

“But I like sharing a room with you...” Wakko’s tail twitched. “It’s a lot less lonely.”

“I know Wak, I like sharing a room too,” Yakko opened his arms, and Wakko hugged him. “But this just isn’t in our control... it’ll be better than the tower at least.”

Wakko nodded, and Dot looked even guiltier than before.

“That place sucks,” He said.

“I bet, from what I’ve heard,” Yakko patted his head.

“...I’ll miss you,” he sighed.

“Hey, it’s not like you’re moving across the country. You can still stop by my room any time- I’m even sure that if we’re extra careful and quiet, we could all organize a sleepover some time,” Yakko winked, and his sib’s faces lit up.

“That sounds faboo!” Wakko grinned.

“Yeah! That sounds fun,” Dot grinned too.

“Alright, alright, I hear you two,” Yakko chuckled. “I’ll figure out a time... hopefully when she most certainly wouldn’t notice...” he said that last part to himself mostly.

And so it was settled. Dot was to begin her lessons, and Wakko was to get a room of his own, a little bit away from Yakko and Dot’s. So far it wasn’t so bad... right?

A few months passed, and Dot began her lessons. It was pretty obvious that she had a strong distaste for them, but it was also very clear that despite being just shy of five, she still understood the consequences of her actions. Yakko couldn’t say he was happy at that though...

She wasn’t even five. She should have time to be a little kid, play wild games, and make mistakes, not bottle everything up in attempts to be the perfect princess their grandmother wanted her to be.

Yakko did his best to encourage her wild side, but he knew just how badly they’d get in trouble so despite desperately wanting to try and undo what she was trying, there was nothing they could really do.

This really sucked.

Yakko missed his parents tremendously when he thought like this, so he tried not to dwell. Instead, he focused on planning that sleepover for Dot’s fifth birthday, which he was actually looking forward to.

Though it’d be the first birthday they’d celebrate without their parents...

No... he shouldn’t focus on that. They were together, they were safe. This was a day of celebration- a day they were all going to sneak together and celebrate as much as they could. Plus, if he got one of the cooks to agree, he could even get him and his sibs a mini cake they could split, which would be fun.

And luckily he did. Quietly and carefully, he brought the dessert to his room and Wakko and Dot were thrilled. They sang, played a few games, and talked and talked and talked and talked. They didn’t have any presents to give her, but Dot was fine with just their company.

Truthfully, the lessons had done quite a bit to isolate the sibs, so being able to just hang out again felt really good- for all of them, despite what was weighing on their minds. It didn’t matter they didn’t really have much to discuss outside of lessons- they just missed being together that much.

“-It’s not all bad- I get to wear big skirts, and I get taught how to dance- like this!” Dot sprung up from her bed and began to waltz, and it wasn’t too shabby. At the mention of the lessons though, Wakko frowned and looked at the floor.

“That’s not too bad Dot,” he complimented her, and she beamed before running up onto the bed again.

“I think it’s stupid,” Wakko mumbled.

“Wakko, that’s rude,” Yakko frowned.

“It’s true,” He huffed.

“Dancing is quite the skill- I know for a fact that I’m a terrible dancer- grandma gave up on teaching me years ago,” he snorted. Wakko raised a knee and leaned against it.

“Wakko, what’s wrong?” Yakko frowned.

“I just... I wanna learn too,” he mumbled.

“But you hate-”

“I know I hate her, Yakko.” he snapped. “It’s just-... I miss talking to you two about things I know. You keep talkin’ about history and dancing or whatever... I wanna learn too.”

Wakko’s words hit Yakko like a slap in the face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize you felt that way sooner Wak,” he apologized. Wakko shrugged.

“I just-... I know she thinks I’m stupid... a-and you keep telling me I’m not, a-and I want to believe I’m not, but... I don’t know things. She won’t give me a chance... even though I’d probably screw it up,” Wakko sighed.

“Wakko... you aren’t stupid, and you don’t need grandma to teach you to prove otherwise,” he placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Still... it’d be nice... I can barely even read,” he muttered, and Yakko felt another wave of guilt.

He had forgotten Dad had been teaching Wakko to read while he was at his lessons before the attack, and that Wakko was slow, but eventually getting a grip. He should’ve remembered- he should’ve continued.

“I can teach you, if you want,” Yakko offered.

“Me too! We can help each other,” Dot grinned.

“R-really?” Wakko blinked.

“Of course, Wak, what are siblings for?” Yakko teased and poked him with his elbow, which made him laugh.

“And I can teach you other stuff too! Like waltzing and tea parties and manners- though that’s kinda boring...” Dot thought about it.

“I like tea parties,” Wakko said, and Dot grinned.

“Okay,” She said.

“And I’ll help teach you what I know- it can be our little secret,” Yakko winked at his sibs.

“Right. No telling Grandma,” Wakko did a ‘lips are sealed’ motion, and Dot copied.

And so it was decided, Yakko and Dot would try to give Wakko lessons of his own, with varying degrees of success. However, it brought the sibs closer together, and they hadn’t been caught yet, so for the first time in a little while, things felt... in control.

Not good by any means, but a routine had been formed, and nobody had gotten hurt yet, and Yakko was determined to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

#my fics #angelina 1 lives au #queen angelina i #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #animaniacs #yakko wakko and dot #feels #neglect #idk what to tag man- im tired

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ronearoundblindly · 3 years ago

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TW: for discussion of Su*c*dal Ideation and SI/SH so feel free to delete this if you don't wanna read, I won't be mad I promise: *takes gigantic breath like the seagull in the meme* Okay. So, after reading Part 10 of Dignity of His Choice, I couldn't let go of the bit in part 9 where Bucky tells Steve that Tony told him that Keeps had a knife and Steve kind of sinks to the floor in despair checking Keeps for injuries. Now, we the audience, hear Bucky tell Steve that "There was an incident" but Keeps doesn't hear that. She does however hear Steve ask her about trying to hurt herself, and she's confused and is like, "I wasn't, I wanted cake". I don't know that Keeps the character would think about it like this, but since reading Part 10 I haven't been able to let go of the thought that if I were to put myself in Keeps' shoes...at some point post-Ramon, I'd realize that if I had tried to hurt or kill myself (which is a thought I would absolutely and seriously entertain in Keeps' shoes and I would personally argue that Keeps' does hurt herself, and if Bruce or somebody doesn't whack Steve over the head with her lack of eating and over exercising I will be disappointed in the Team) my nightmare would have been over faster. Like, I would put together why Bucky brought me to the place Steve was hiding and at some point I'd be like "So if I had tried to kill myself, then Steve would have come back" and I think that would make me regret the time I wasted trying to put myself back together because it would occur to me that giving into the pain would have actually been a way to actively participate in solving my problem. Since I was kept in the dark, and had any other agency stolen from me... Which is a horrifying, sickening thought that I can't seem to get out of my head. It feels like I should have a way to tie that up for you, but I don't, I just felt the need to point out a plot thread my brain has decided to latch onto. Regardless of whether or not this becomes at all relevant going forward, it simply makes your story that much richer and layered. I am so impressed at the way in which you are expressing Keeps' reaction to learning about Steve faking his death; how and why it happened, the obvious nuance to her thought process, and how you're expressing it all, is phenomenal. Never mind, Steve and everyone else's thoughts and behavior...I know I said it already, and I know I will keep saying it- I am so glad I stumbled upon your work. You are such a fantastic writer, and reading these is really, truly a joy. Thank you!

Ok, this is really interesting because I agree. If I were Keeps, hell-fuck-yeah I would have considered *mumbles the words,*

HOWEVER,

I have actively tried to picture about ten different types of women (ages, body shapes, ethnicities, heights, etc.) repeatedly while writing Fools Rush In. So Keeps is not me. Not even close. I've added what backstory I think moves along her character and what makes for an interesting dynamic with Steve. Additionally, I'm a snobby bitch, so I've tried to include a lot of things I never see in other fics, at least not frequently. Adds a bit more realism for me, but I digress.

I'm a little...unwilling to project that idea outright onto Keeps. Maybe one day I'll be brave enough to do a dissection of SI/SH thoughts and how they'd impact a relationship with any two people, but that day is not today. The idea/layer is there, and it's not meant as a throwaway plot device but won't be delved into much...probably...maybe.

It's not in Dignity as a scene because it would be a POV other than Steve or Keeps, but there is 100% miscommunication going on between Tony to Bucky to Steve about who thinks she was going to do what. In my mind, Bucky returns from a long mission, and if Tony so much as off-handedly mentions "a scare where Spangler had a knife," Bucky might just knee-jerk react by ending the charade. He wouldn't take that chance no matter what Steve said. He's been heaving red onto his ledger just to get Steve home, so fuck that, Keeps better be alive, too.

That brings us to the oof complicated part (which wouldn't be clear via what's in the fic so far since we never saw Tony talk to Bucky). No one except Nat and Bucky knows about Steve, so if both are on mission, crossing off that list of names, no one at the compound is really gonna know to tell them about Keeps if she tried anything. Maybe and only maybe would an attempt have actually led to knowing Steve was alive early. It would depend on other circumstances.

but yes, I feel you. I see what you're saying. I'm right there with ya.

#ro answers #long-winded though she may be #fools rush in #i've really dug myself too deep on this one #thank you for reading

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princesscas · 4 years ago

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hey again mandy!! i was wondering if you could rec some fluffy destiel fics? just your favorite ones if you’ve got some, either fluffy or angsty! i’d love to add some diversity to my bookmark list ☺️💕

Ooohh yeah! You sent this right as an anon sent the same request :3

Anon: I have seen your answer to an anon and now I want you to do a list of your favorite destiel fics please!! I just need to read fluffy fics but I also want some that have very good plot and also good portray of the characters but with a happy ending i can’t stomach more sadness. Thanks!! By the way for these who haven’t read it I want to recommend a very good fic call I don’t care where you been.

So I’m not too big on angst, like yes I do love angst, it can be good for the plot/character development/etc, but sometimes too much angst is well, too much for me to handle lol. Fluff is my bread and butter when it comes to not only writing, but reading. It can do me no harm, besides making my cheeks hurt from smiling so dang much!

So here is my list of fluffy, plotty, longfics! These are pretty old, because I haven’t been in the market for any destiel longfic in the recent years, besides oneshots and a few WIPs here and there. (i’m still neck deep into the stucky dumpster lol) 6 canon fics and 6 AU’s :D

CANON

Professional Couple Only by saltyfeathers (Fake/Pretend Relationship) - There's a haunted apartment building in Vermont, and the ad says "Professional couple only". Dean and Cas rise to the occasion.

The Silence Between Heartbeats by yesmsmoran (elliedew) (2x20 AU) - "Fic that replaces Carmen with Cas. And then, when Dean wakes up and he meets Cas for the first time he freaks out because it's the only man he's ever loved and he's so confused as to how he can be real when he obviously had to be something the djinn created."

i wanna see your animal side by microcomets (Animal Transformation) - Dean gets attached to a dark-haired, blue-eyed kitten. He hates cats, so he can't really say why.

Just To Make You See by youaresunlight (Mutual Pining) - “I’ve been reading,” Cas explains, lifting his coat to reach for something inside. It’s another magazine but not one about nature or economics. It’s a GQ with a suave male celebrity gracing the cover. “There’s an article in here that gives advice to those who are ‘seeking to escape the friend zone.’”

And I Will Walk On Water by tracy_loo_who (Post-S4) - This fic is set after season 4 and totals ~122,600 words. It's a story about friendship and love, recovery and trust, free will, and Dean and Castiel's journey through it all. It's also about chocolate and hugs. If you read it, I really hope you enjoy it. ♥

Broadway Musical by Griftings (HILLARIOUS GO READ IT) - This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle.The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at.Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

a world above water by museaway (Fairy Tale AU) - Castiel’s hope for freedom is threatened by a chance encounter with the Crowned Prince of Lawrence, who is trying to avoid an arranged marriage

To Find a Family by linasane (Kid Fic, Domestic) - When Dean's little brother gets taken away, he's expecting the fight that ensues. He's expecting the stress that comes from separation, expecting to do all he can to get Sammy back from whatever awful foster family he's been placed with. He's not expecting Castiel Novak. (Castiel, in turn, isn't expecting his first foster child - five years old and angry - to be the one that leads him to the family he's always wanted, but life has a funny way of working itself out).

Shorten the Distance by GhostGarrison (Online/Long Distance Relationship) - "Nerdytr3nchcoat" and "Impala67" weren't looking for romance on the dating website called 'dateangels.com'. Castiel was looking for friends and Dean was just looking to get his nagging brother off his back. What they didn't expect to find was each other. [a long distance, online relationship fic]

Cooking with Gas by WinJennster (Food Network/Chef!Cas) - Castiel Novak has it all. He's rich, famous, has a top rated cooking show and restaurant, drives an expensive car and wears Armani. His producer throws a contest to spend a day with Chef Novak, cooking and learning techniques. Castiel wants no part of it, but Balthazar insists and Castiel will do as expected. What Castiel wasn't expecting was to fall head over heels for the winner. Dean Winchester hasn't had a successful relationship in his 34 years on Earth. He's got a past he'd like to keep hidden, and his life rotates around his family and his business. Winning a contest to spend a day with his favorite TV chef is a shock, but a welcome diversion from his day to day life...until he meets the guy, and he turns out to be a big jerk. Dean figures he should have expected that. What he wasn't expecting was that same gorgeous blue-eyed man to sweep in and shake up his entire world.

Life In Pink by youaresunlight (Kid Fic - SO FLUFF) - At just 33 years old, Dean Winchester is one of the most sought-after wedding planners in the city. He’s chased his dream ever since he was a kid and is now on the brink of making partner at his firm. But the wedding that’ll make or break his promotion? Is his best friend Dr. Castiel Novak’s. It’s going to be the event of the season - unlimited budget, no expense spared - and it’s the kind of task that Dean has been waiting for… except he’s hopelessly in love with Cas.

Kiss the Baker by Ltleflrt (Bakery AU) - Jo is pregnant and craving something a little bit unusual. When she sends Dean on a mission to find her some chocolate cake donuts with bacon sprinkles, he's sure that he'll fail. Luckily his partner Benny comes to his rescue and introduces him to a quirky little bakery that sells all kinds of weird (and delicious!) baked goods. And they do special orders!Dean finds excuses to keep going back, and Castiel finds excuses to keep giving him special treats.

And I believe this is the fic Anon was referring to: don't care where you've been by thanks_tacos (A/B/O) Dean's life is finally changing. After years of enduring Alastair's abuse, the alpha dies and Dean's married off to the next alpha the system pairs him with - Castiel. The man is strange and distant, but not exactly bad, and Dean's determined to be on his best behavior and not mess up the chance he was given. Soon enough, though, he fucks up anyway and has to call the alpha for help.Castiel's lived his entire life without an omega by his side, and he was fine with that. He doesn't know how to proceed once he's suddenly married to a beautiful man who's obviously been through a lot. Omegas were always a confusing subject to him, so he tries not to interfere much - neither of them is there by their choice. But when Dean calls for help, he understands he's going to have to set some things straight and engage more.

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic rec #my ficrec #mandy answers stuffs #hbalbat

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stars-are-just-ghosts · 3 years ago

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16th prompt for harrisco 'cause we'd love a fixit <3

So this isn't a fixit, simply because (and I may be alone in thinking this) the mess that the show made out of the Wells' still makes me kind of furious. It's such a nuclear disaster. I try to pretend (okay I do pretend) that it never happened. I live in complete denial when it comes to that debacle. (That aside, Nash is one of my favorite Wells, so he gets a free pass.) I do hope you like this anyway, as I love to write angsty stuff. Be safe! -QD * * *

Cisco's ears were ringing, a chorus of bells and chimes and cymbals rampaging in his eardrums that made him nauseous and far too dizzy. He coughed against the dust that had begun to settle around him like a cloud of gray and forced his eyes to blink, tearing up against the particles that assaulted his vision.

It took far too long for his sight to clear, for actual sound to process, and not chaotic trilling. And when everything finally came into view, all he could think to do was stare. Jitters was more than a mess. It was just... not Jitters anymore. What the hell happened?! He tried to remember... They hadn't had any meta mayhem in over a week, which resulted in him and Harry working non stop on all their pushed-back projects just so they could have something to do. It was the most fun Cisco'd had in a while. He'd always loved working side by side with the genius of a man, but if he was being honest... well, it was more than that now. It had been for almost a year.

Realizing he was falling for the tall, hot-headed, grumpy scientist hadn't had any fanfare. It hadn't startled him. It had, in fact, been the most comforting realization Cisco had ever had. Because it made sense. To him, anyway. Because Cisco had learned to see all the incredible stuff beneath the dense layer of sarcasm and self-loathing Harry had built up over the years. And the more he saw, the more he experienced, had resulted in Cisco head-over-heels before he had the sense to stop it. Not that he would if he'd known.

Lately, he'd been trying to come up with the courage to tell Harry. But the idea that Harry would reject him, that they'd lose the far-too important friendship they'd built, was far too prevalent in Cisco's mind.

It didn't stop him from daydreaming, though. Something he was doing just moments ago, staring at Harry's far too alluring lips as the taller man stirred his coffee while he went on and on about the updates they were doing on the satellites. They'd stopped at Jitters for a night-time pick-me-up. It was almost closing time, and Nancy, a barista, was the only person behind the counter. There weren't any customers. There was some sort of pop music playing softly through the speakers. And Cisco took the quiet and emptiness as permission to just let his thoughts drift. He pictured himself just moving in, capturing Harry's damn delicious lips with his own.

And then...

There had definitely been an explosion. It was all that made sense.

Cisco pushed himself up, a piece of the counter sliding off his stomach as he shoved it out of the way and coughed. He let his eyes wander. Tried to push through the strange daze in his brain. He needed to take stock of the situation. Needed to make sure that Harry was... "Harry?" he croaked out quickly, blinking as he pushed himself to his feet, staggering slightly amongst the debris. He could hear water rushing somewhere, the sounds of sparks crackling from a broken and hanging light, the crunch of debris settling.

There was an enormous caved-in sort of hole where the kitchen had been. He could see Nancy, shocked and shaking, picking her way through the debris and toward the shattered doors. She looked as stunned as he felt. And Harry... where was he?! Cisco stepped forward. They'd been standing right next to each other. He couldn't be far, right?!

"Harry!" He called out much louder, looking around. He began to toss pieces of wood aside. A chair. A half-split table. Panic began to settle in. There was a strange sinking feeling in his chest. Because he couldn't lose Harry.

Harry was his cornerstone, the most important reason he got up in the morning, the most constant tangible presence in his life. And maybe Cisco had become too accustomed to their daily antics and bickering. Maybe he had become too familiar with the numerous little kindnesses that Harry showered him in. Maybe he had become too addicted to the touches in passing, their combined laughter, the effortless way Harry just took Cisco's depression and anxiety and transformed it all into happiness...

Cisco froze in place when he saw a boot.

No... not a boot.

Harry's boot!

He rushed forward, yanking aside a tall tea rack and a piece of drywall, revealing Harry's still form covered in dust and dirt. The left side of Harry's face was caked in dusty blood that had pooled from a gash above his brow. The gray shirt Harry wore was stained along the ribs with something dark that Cisco knew wasn't coffee. It made his whole body buzz with terror, made him drop to his knees and freeze in place. He focused on Harry's chest, willing him to breathe... just fucking breathe!

He half registered the sounds of sirens in the distance, could hear a murmur of voices outside the shattered windows, mingling with all the other unsettling sounds around him. "Harry, please..." His voice cracked, tears unnoticed as they rolled down his dusty cheeks. He moved a hand toward Harry's chest. But just before he put his palm down, Harry's whole body jerked and the tall man coughed, turning slightly sideways. It startled Cisco so badly, he fell backward into the tea rack he'd pulled off of him.

"Holycrap!" He blurted out quickly. Then he scooted back toward Harry as he coughed, a hand coming up to his head, the tall man wincing slightly. "Don't do that to me!" Cisco fought the urge to smack him and chose to help him sit up instead. "I... I thought you were dead." Cisco half-whispered. Harry blinked heavily, looking around at their surroundings, leaning his torso into Cisco as he let his hand fall.

"Ramon." He said gratingly, eyes coming back to Cisco's face. Harry took in the sight of him quickly, eyes roaming at the wet streaks on his cheeks before holding his gaze. "What happened? Are you alright?!" Before he could answer, Harry had simply reached up and cupped Cisco's face, a thumb smoothing through the wetness. And Cisco lost any words he'd been planning to say. Because he'd seen a lot of sides to Harry. Seen all the hidden things that no one else seemed to notice. But he'd never, not once, seen Harry look at him like that.

It was at that moment that Barry showed up. Everything moved quickly after that. Ambulances and fire trucks and police cars. Barry got Cisco and Harry back to the labs. The explosion was caused by a gas leak in the store connected to Jitters. Both places were a loss. Thankfully, no one had died. Nancy barely had a scratch on her because she'd been inside a walk-in freezer when it happened. Cisco had a hell of a bruise on his back, about the size of a basketball, a few cuts, and had needed stitches on his thigh. Harry had a concussion. Caitlin swore it wasn't as bad as it could have been. He also needed stitches on his ribs, the cut there almost a foot long. It all could have been so much worse. A thought that was sticking with Cisco as the minutes ticked by.

It was nearly three in the morning by the time Caitlin and Barry cleared out. They had both offered to drive Cisco home, but he didn't want to leave. Not yet. He was watching Harry stiffly put a shirt on in the medlab. That sinking feeling in Cisco's chest hadn't left. How many times had he come that close to losing Harry? And how much longer was he going to be a chicken about telling Harry the truth?

Harry turned his ocean blue eyes on Cisco and paused before pulling the black S.T.A.R. Labs t-shirt completely in place. Then he wandered over to where Cisco was leaning against the doorway of the medlab. And just like that, he was touching Cisco's face again. His palm smoothed over his skin, his fingers slipped into the dark strands of his hair. And Harry shook his head.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, eyes dancing between his own. Cisco didn't know what to say at first. He was too busy reveling in the feel of Harry's warm and large hand on him. But then he cleared his throat and reached up, wrapping his fingers around Harry's wrist.

"No." He managed, pulling Harry's hand down. But... he held onto it, in both of his own, looking down at Harry's long fingers, running a thumb over his knuckles. Two of them were slightly bruised. "I need to tell you something." He didn't dare look back up at him. He would never be able to get this out if he did. "I haven't said anything because I was afraid of what might happen if things changed. I didn't want to lose our friendship because it just means... it's everything, man. I can't... I couldn't take the risk. But I saw you lying there bleeding and unconscious and... I thought... you looked dead. And I couldn't process that. I couldn't picture existence without you in it. Because I'm... I..." Fuck, why couldn't he just say it? He was a big boy. He could enunciate words properly. He could make his thoughts known. Right? But then Harry lifted his other hand, hooked a finger beneath Cisco's chin, and gently urged him to look up.

And what he saw...

Harry was smiling. It was the most tender thing he'd ever seen on the other man's face. And it made all his anxiety flee in a heartbeat.

"I love you, too, Cisco." Harry said so simply, it made Cisco blink. "I value our friendship. More than nearly anything else. It's why I never said anything, like you." He stepped closer, pulling his hand out of Cisco's hold and holding both sides of Cisco's face. "But if it's a choice between telling you how I feel, and the possibility that one of us could die without the words ever having been said," he shrugged, "Then I'd rather you know just... how much... I love you." Harry's voice cracked slightly, his eyes growing wet. Cisco let out a sound, feeling his own eyes burn.

All he could think to do was move into him, to let Harry wrap those safe arms of his completely around him. He breathed in the smell of Harry's aftershave and the lingering scent of smoke and dust. He curled his hands into the fresh t-shirt and let out an enormous breath, letting all that fear and worry out with it. For a few, blissful, long moments, Harry just held him.

"This is not how I thought I'd tell you." Harry said gently, soft humor in his tone. Cisco chuckled and lifted his head, meeting Harry's sparkling gaze.

"Me, neither. Though it's not like anyone plans on having their coffee date go up in flames." He watched Harry raise a brow.

"Date?" Harry asked, eyes roaming along Cisco's features again.

"Okay, so... maybe I tend to think of everything we do together outside of work as a sort of date. It's pitiful, but it's kind of how I, uh..." He cleared his throat, shrugging a shoulder, "It kept me going, got me out of my head. Since I couldn't actually get the words out." Harry smiled, warm and bright.

"And now that we've gotten the words out?" He asked, bringing his face a little closer. "If I kissed you right now, what would you consider that?" Cisco's brows shot up and his eyes darted directly to Harry's mouth.

"Oh, that... that's definitely not a date. That's more like... we've been established for a while now, and I want some damn affection from my better half." He smiled, hearing Harry chuckle.

"As you wish." Harry winked knowingly, and before Cisco could dare ask how Harry knew about Princess Bride, the taller man had closed what little distance there was left, his lips sliding along Cisco's in a brilliantly soft and tender press.

He'd always pictured Harry to be a pushy kisser. But... he was sooo wrong about that. Because Harry was eager, but he was also so goddamn patient. He let Cisco lead the way, let him decide when it got deeper, and how deep. Harry tasted like dark coffee, and he was pretty damn exceptional with that tongue of his. And the longer the kiss went on, Cisco was glad his daydreams were nothing like reality.

He also had a feeling that the friendship they'd cultivated wasn't going anywhere. In fact, it was just evolving into something far more concrete. Something permanent. Something they didn't need to hide from each other, or anyone else.

Their soreness and exhaustion took over at one point. But Cisco still didn't go home. Instead, he curled up in Harry's bed with him and they talked till even their mouths were too tired to keep going. It was so easy, nothing felt awkward about it. Harry held him as Cisco happily played little spoon, and not a moment of it was uncomfortable. It didn't take long for either one of them to pass out.

The next day, they were still asleep by the time Caitlin came back. She'd gone in search of Harry, wanting to check on him, figuring Cisco was at home. But what she found was the two men very asleep and completely tangled with each other.

"It's about time." She whispered with a smile before closing the door to Harry's room. They had a busy day ahead of them. But there was no harm in letting them sleep a little while longer. They deserved the rest. And each other.

About time, indeed.

#writing prompt #harrisco #ugh #the angst #the fluff #murder me now #i love them so much #i hope you enjoy!

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thefinalcinderella · 4 years ago

Text

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 8 - Winter Comes Again (Part 5)

Hakone finally starts in the next chapter, which is like, 80 pages long

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. Kamaboko is a type of fish cake and Odawara is well known for its high quality Kamaboko

2. Zouni is a type of soup that contains rice cakes and is usually eaten on New Year’s Day

Previous | Next

That night, Kiyose was planning to explain the Hakone Ekiden entries as well as hold a drinking party. After training and jogging, the residents gathered one after another in the twins’ room.

Kiyose had gone off somewhere after training. Nico-chan and Jouta were in charge of cooking; they were probably making something to serve as an accompaniment to the drinks. Thinking he should help, Kakeru was just about to leave the twins’ room and go down to the kitchen when his phone rang. It was his home phone number in Sendai.

His parents hadn’t contacted him once since he had moved to Tokyo. He had sent them a postcard with Chikusei-sou’s address, but that was it; just transferring the money for school fees and minimal living expenses into his bank account was enough for him. His parents had wanted him to go to university on a track recommendation because they had had high hopes for their son as a well-mannered track athlete.

When he pressed the button to answer the call, he heard the nostalgic voice of his mother say, “Kakeru?”

“Mm.”

“You were written up in a magazine, weren’t you? We told you so many times not to do anything that would make you stand out. Your father is very angry with you. Are you listening?”

“Mm, sorry.”

“Please put yourself in our shoes, living here. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing for the New Year’s holiday? Are you coming back?”

“No, I’m going to be in Hakone, so I don’t think I have time to come home.”

“Ah, yes,” his mother’s voice took on a distinct note of relief. “Okay, then. Take care.”

Clutching his now-silent phone, Kakeru stood in the middle of the stairs for a while. In a daze, he belatedly noticed Yuki’s presence at the door.

“Oh, sorry,” Yuki said. “I didn’t intend to eavesdrop.”

Yuki was holding a bag from a record store in Shimokitazawa. No matter how busy he got, he never lacked music in his life. “No problem,” Kakeru answered, and walked down the stairs to stand in the hallway with him.

“Was that a call from home?”

“Yes. They got angry at me for standing out.”

“You’re the man of the hour, after all,” Yuki laughed. If it was Yuki, he might be able to tell him—Yuki was so far the only one not happy about being interviewed. He wanted someone to hear out his painful feelings, so Kakeru deliberately confided in him as though it was no big deal.

“I don’t get along well with my parents.”

Yuki was silent for a minute.

“I see. It’s the same for me,” he said. “In my case, I guess you can call it being overprotective. My mom remarried. The guy’s not a bad person, and I have a little sister who’s a lot younger than me, and she’s pretty cute, I guess, but… It bothers me when I’m told 'we’re your new family now' and get fussed over a lot. To be honest, I don’t want to get too close to them.”

“How old is your little sister?”

“Five.”

“Eh, so she’s more than fifteen years younger than you, Yuki-senpai?”

“Yeah. My mom’s doing her best,” Yuki pushed his glasses up as though to say, Good grief. “It’s a given that family members would bother you. You have to not expect too much from them and keep a reasonable distance.”

Yuki walked towards his room—it seemed that he had given his advice. “Okay,” Kakeru answered, and then went to peek in the kitchen, which had been noisy with the sound of running water and pots falling from a short time ago. Then, Yuki returned to the hallway.

“That’s right, Kakeru,” he said. He beckoned him to a corner of the hallway. “When I was coming back, I saw Haiji at Seijo Station.”

Is he doing some shopping? Although it was a station where express trains stopped, Kakeru and the others didn’t go to Seijou that often. If anything, they usually went to Soshigaya-Okura Station, which had a folksy and mixed atmosphere.

“He went into an orthopedics clinic in front of Seijo Station.”

Kakeru jerked in surprise. There was an old scar on Kiyose’s right shin; even after the qualifiers, he had looked like he was having a hard time. Kakeru had completely forgotten about it in the commotion of training and interviews.

“I don’t know much about the injuries of track athletes.” Yuki knitted his brows. “But maybe Kiyose’s isn’t completely healed.”

In any sport, the best athletes all had some sort of injury, and track and field was no exception. Hard training and risk had always gone hand in hand with each other—the more you trained, the sharper and more delicate your body became.

“If he’s seeing a doctor, they’ll stop him if he gets too reckless, so that actually makes me relieved, but…”

“Would Haiji listen to the doctor? Especially at this time.”

That’s true, Kakeru thought. The fact that he had gone to the doctor meant that he must be feeling some kind of discomfort, maybe even distinct pain. Even if he requested a prescription to suppress the pain, Kakeru had a feeling that Kiyose would not listen to the doctor’s advice.

“I understand. I’ll ask Haiji-san later,” Kakeru assured Yuki.

Kiyose returned to Chikusei-sou before they knew it. Kakeru carefully twitched his nose around Kiyose to see if he could smell a poultice, but he couldn’t find any evidence.

“You’re a strange guy.”

That was all Kiyose said to him.

“There’s been a lot going on lately,” Kiyose said, looking around at everyone gathered in the twins’ room. “Well, don’t worry about it. We’ll get our answers through our running.”

“Haiji-san, you’re so cool!”

“’What do you want with our Kurahara?’”

The twins, who had already been drinking, made fun of him. Ever since the incident with the Shinjitsu Weekly reporter, the twins seemed to have recovered their trust in Kiyose.

“The month of November is finally coming to an end. There’s no time left until the Hakone Ekiden,” Kiyose continued, ignoring the twins. “From now on, taking care of your physical condition will be the most important thing; be careful not to get injured at the last minute.”

At the word “injured,” Kakeru couldn’t help but exchange a glance with Yuki.

“Kakeru, explain the entries for Hakone,” Kiyose said, and Kakeru shook off his worries for now. The gazes of the residents, sitting in a circle, were focused on him.

“The first step is to submit the names of up to sixteen people per team to the organizer on December 10,” Kakeru began to explain. “At this stage, who will run which leg will not be revealed. Next, on December 29, it will be the leg entry, where the sixteen runners will be narrowed down to fourteen, and ten of those people will declare which leg they are running. The remaining four will be treated as alternates. Changes in leg entries are allowed on the day of the Hakone Ekiden. The final runners will be announced before the start times of the outward and return trips. However, once a runner is removed from a leg, they cannot be entered into another leg.”

“I don’t get it. What does that mean?” Jouji asked.

Kakeru thought about it a little, then simplified it. “Suppose Rokudou’s Fujioka was entered into the second leg on December 29. This means that Fujioka cannot be assigned the fifth leg in the final entry change on the day of Hakone. If Fujioka isn’t feeling well on the first day, they have no choice but to put one of the four alternates in the second leg, and even if Fujioka recovers on the second day, he wouldn’t be allowed to run.”

“I see.” Musa nodded. “Conversely, if Fujioka-san is one of the four alternates, can we assume that Rokudou will change its entry on the day of Hakone?”

“That’s exactly right,” Kiyose said. “If there’s a strong competitor in the alternate slot, then they are either not feeling well or they plan on changing the entry of an important leg on the morning of the race as a secret weapon. After seeing the entries for each leg on the 29th, each university will consider its strategy and, trying to read their opponent’s mind, unfold a new strategy.”

“We can’t lose focus even right before the start, can we?” King seemed to feel pressured. “But we only have ten people, so that’s got nothing to do with us. We don’t have strategies or anything.”

“It’s true that we will be showing all our cards on the 29th.”

Feeling uneasy, Kakeru looked at Kiyose; Kansei had no alternates, and once they made their entries, it wouldn’t be possible to switch legs. He wanted to know what Kiyose thought about that.

“We’re not the only ones with a small lineup,” Kiyose said calmly. “Changing your entry on the day of the race can be a good or bad thing. After all, sometimes it won’t go well when you’re suddenly asked to run. In fact, there are many schools that have a policy of not changing the leg entries unless there is a serious problem. Knowing that there’s strategy regarding the entries, it’s better to know early on which leg you’re running so that you can prepare.”

“Haiji, have you already decided which legs we’re going to run?” Yuki asked.

“Yeah,” Kiyose said and straightened his posture. “Of course, if you have any objections, we can discuss it, but I think this is the best we can do for now.”

Kiyose took out a memo from his track pants and laid it out in the center of the circle. Everyone leaned in to take a look and let out cries of surprise.

Hakone Outward Journey (Day 1)

First Leg Otemachi to Tsurumi Prince

Second Leg Tsurumi to Totsuka Musa

Third Leg Totsuka to Hiratsuka Jouta

Fourth Leg Hiratsuka to Odawara Jouji

Fifth Leg Odawara to Hakone Shindou

Hakone Return Journey (Day 2)

Sixth Leg Hakone to Odawara Yuki

Seventh Leg Odawara to Hiratsuka Nico-chan

Eighth Leg Hiratsuka to Totsuka King

Ninth Leg Totsuka to Tsurumi Kakeru

Tenth Leg Tsurumi to Otemachi Kiyose

“Me in the second leg? I cannot do it.” Musa was trembling all over. “The second leg is the section for the aces, yes? Why is it not Kakeru then?”

“It’s pretty bold to put Prince-san in the first leg…” Jouji reservedly tilted his head.

Even Prince muttered, “What are you doing throwing the race from the start?”

Kakeru immediately understood what Kiyose was trying to do when he saw the lineup he had planned. Haiji-san is going to try to win the race in the second half. He’s seriously aiming for us to get seeded. No, if the race goes the way Haiji-san thinks it will, it won’t be about seeding—with these placements, we can aim for a much better ranking…!

They were such a weak club that they were in danger of not surviving next year. They were just a bunch of amateurs that had finally managed to crawl up this far, but Kiyose didn’t know the meaning of giving up; he was always looking upward, holding up dreams and goals, and firmly leading the residents of Chikusei-sou. Aiming for the heights of running. Aiming to reach the top of the Hakone Ekiden—the ultimate intermediary between individual and team competitions.

Seeing from the entry form how serious Kiyose was, Kakeru clenched his fists. If he hadn't, he would have gotten so excited that he would have ended up looking like an animal.

“Prince is the only one for the first leg,” Kiyose said gently. “Maybe it’s because you don't have any interest in the 3D world, but you’ve never been scared at the meets or qualifiers; you’re the most suitable person for the first leg, which has the most attention focused on it. You’re also tough enough to have kept up with the training until now even with your very slow times. I’m sure you’ll be able to hold your own in the race.”

He casually said something rude again, Kakeru thought, but Kiyose wasn’t lying about his expectations. Prince must have felt that as well, and a light came into his eyes.

“But in these past few years, the first leg has often been fast paced.” Yuki asked a question based on the data he had collected: “This time too, won’t each school choose a runner for the first leg based on speed?”

“There’s also a chance that it’ll develop at a slow pace in reaction to that. That’s a gamble,” Kiyose readily admitted. “But even if Prince gets separated from the others, he can still make up for it in the first leg. That’s why I chose a solid group of runners for the second to fourth legs, and there’s no one but Shindou who could do the fifth leg’s mountain climb, right? Musa and the twins should be able to steadily make it there.”

“It is too much for me to run in the ace’s leg.” Musa didn’t seem convinced.

“What do you think?” Kiyose turned to Kakeru. “Musa seems to want you to run the second leg.”

“No. I think Musa-san is the perfect fit for it,” Kakeru said with conviction. “Musa-san has been training while pushing aside all sorts of pressures. Even though he never did long-distance before, he can now run ten kilometers in the low 29-minute range. And Musa-san has always encouraged me.”

His effort and personality were second to none. Musa was an ace among aces.

“You are giving me too much credit, Kakeru,” Musa said, embarrassed. But it was unanimously decided that he would run the second leg.

There were no objections to the twins running the third and fourth legs, and they were very enthusiastic about it.

“The third leg is a road that runs along the sea. The scenery’s really nice,” said Jouta.

“Can we buy some kamaboko (1) in Odawara?” said Jouji.

The fifth leg was good with Shindou, but the problem was the sixth leg, which was Yuki’s mountain descent.

“Why am I doing the sixth leg?” Yuki asked Kiyose, looking for an explanation.

“On the trial run the other day, your posture was very stable. Normally, when people run down a steep slope like that, they’d be bent forward,” Kiyose glanced at Yuki’s legs, which were in a cross-legged position. “Also…you have thick legs.”

“What?”

“No, it was a compliment. Anyways, if your legs and loins aren’t solid, the sixth leg is out of the question.”

“It’s like sturdiness is my only good point. You say that, but what would you do if I get hurt?”

“It’s fine, isn’t it? You already passed the bar. You won’t have any opportunities to do serious track and field after graduation.”

“Oi oi, that’s irresponsible and cruel…” Nico-chan said, but Yuki was surprisingly calm and said, “You have a point,” accepting Kiyose’s words. If it made sense, he would swallow any cool-headed opinion. It was a method of persuasion that perfectly grasped Yuki’s character, and Kakeru was once again in awe of Kiyose’s ability to manipulate people.

“About Nico-chan-senpai in the seventh leg and King in the eighth leg,” Kiyose continued, “I think that when you get to this part of the route, the runners will start to break up, and there will be times when you’re running by yourself. You won’t be able to see the runners from the other teams in front or behind you. Even in situations like those, both of you will be able to run at your own pace without panicking or becoming careless. The battle to get seeded will intensify, so this is an unassuming but important section.”

“Are we planning on getting seeded?” Jouji nervously asked.

“Of course,” Kiyose decisively stated. “Now, for the last two legs, I entered Kakeru into the ninth leg, which is also called the ace leg of the return trip. As for the anchor, the tenth leg, I’ll be the one responsible for it, as I was the one who said we’re going to the Hakone Ekiden and got you guys involved.”

Kiyose only gave a brief explanation for himself and Kakeru. However, Kakeru thoroughly sensed Kiyose’s feelings for the Hakone Ekiden, and he also knew what kind of running they would have to show in the ninth and tenth legs.

Kakeru looked at Kiyose. Kiyose was silent, then nodded at him.

“That’s all. Are there any questions or thoughts?”

No one raised their hand. Pulled along by Kiyose’s conviction, everyone was finally thinking about the Hakone Ekiden as something concrete, and their fighting spirit was rising.

“Okay. Until the announcement of the entries for the legs on the 29th, what I told you is of course confidential. I want each of you to do your own image training and study the leg you’ll be running.”

Kiyose picked up his cup full of alcohol and said, Let’s drink. “With this team, it’ll definitely turn out well. Twins.”

Jouta and Jouji looked up when they were called.

“I’ll show you the top. No, we’re going to experience it together. Look forward to it.”

Kiyose smiled like a fearless king.

After the drinking party had reached its climax, Kakeru quietly approached Kiyose.

“Haiji-san, your legs aren’t doing well, are they?”

“Why do you ask?” Kiyose gently countered and poured himself another drink. Kakeru was at a loss for words—there was no way Kiyose was going to complain, however doubts swirled in Kakeru’s chest.

Haiji-san told Yuki-senpai, “You won’t have any opportunities to do serious track and field after graduation.” Isn’t he really talking about himself? Isn’t he going into this Hakone Ekiden with the resolve that he’s not going to be able to run anymore?

He was scared just thinking about it. Not being able to run was the same as dying for Kakeru. He believed it was the same for Kiyose. And yet, he…

“There’s nothing like what you’re worried about.” Kiyose smiled and spoke, “Come on, you drink too.”

Kakeru couldn’t say anything and drank the alcohol Kiyose served him in one go, full of anxiety. Kiyose was wearing that padded kimono jacket with the frayed cuffs. Soon, Kakeru would have spent all four seasons with the residents of Chikusei-sou.

Kakeru recalled the night he met Kiyose for the first time—the night when everything started.

A strange feeling like nostalgia and longing sprouted in his chest.

---

The residents of Chikusei-sou continued to train wholeheartedly even into December and had a quiet New Year’s Eve together in their rundown apartment.

On New Year’s Eve, they went to a nearby shrine to ring the temple bell, and on New Year’s Day, they ate zouni made by Kiyose. (2)

The tension was building minute by minute, but even that felt good. It was because he wasn’t alone; in Chikusei-sou, Kakeru could feel the presence of the people he had been training and living with.

He wasn’t alone—until he started running.

He had comrades who were always, always, waiting for him to start running, to finish running and to come home.

The ekiden was that sort of sport.

---

At last, it was January 2.

The Hakone Ekiden began.

It was the end of the year-long battle the ten of them had been engaged in. At the same time, it was the beginning of the first and last fierce battle of the ten, which would be handed down as long as there was a Hakone Ekiden.

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#Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kazetsuyo #kazetsuyo translations #run with the wind

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breadoffoxy · 4 years ago

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Bring it on

Summary: Jin and you strive to have the best and be the best all year round. Nothings off limits, even romance.

Written for the BTS Ghosite Marathon. Prompt: Themes: Seasons

Drabble: 24/30

Pairing: n. Reader x Jin

Genre: humor, angst, fluff

Warnings: suggestive content talking about Jin’s size, enemies to lovers, idiots to still idiots, angst

Word Count: 828

Every season it was the same.

The tables are crowded with noisy kids and of course the two of you are sitting next to each other. In front of you is a mix of paint colors and hollowed eggs filled with confetti. Half are still not done and the other half are delicately painted.

“I think the kids like mine more.”

Jin stares at your depleted egg pile with contempt.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s just your massive shoulders intimidating the kids away.”

“Oh, it’s on now.” Jin claims, straightening his shoulders back.

“Like Donkey Kong?”

“Of course.”

Jin turns on all the charm and then some, but it’s hard for kids to take his eggs over yours when he’s surrounded by star struck mothers.

“Well, look who’s here.” Jin walks up to you in the pumpkin patch with a magnificent orange pumpkin under his arm.

“Oh, it’s you.” Not even looking up, you continue to walk through the rows, eyeing each pumpkin carefully.

Jin splutters, “How rude! Just me? Ha!” He stomps along and goads, “Bet you can’t find as good of a pumpkin as this fine of a specimen.”

With an excited, “aha!” you crouch down, indeed pulling out a pumpkin as fine and maybe even nicer than his. Turning him with a raised eyebrow you can’t help but mock, “What was that?”

Jin’s speechless as you walk away.

“Good choice.” The Christmas tree farmer grins at you, but is quickly overshadowed literally and figuratively by a pair pulling a Christmas tree your way.

“That’s what you’re getting?” Turns out one of the men pulling the tree is Jin. He grins smugly at you as the farmer helping him takes needy gasps of air. “It’s so tiny.”

“At least I’m not the one over compensating here, Jin.”

The handsome man looks flustered before quickly coming back to stride. “I’ll have you know that I’m very well proportioned down there.”

The young farmer next to you eyes Jin up and down, grinning salaciously as they imagine just how proportioned he is. As the two men continue carrying the tree off to the parking lot, the person helping you wiggles their eyebrows.

“Those big shoulders have got to be supporting a lot of weight, eh?”

You roll your eyes, not wanting to imagine your nemesis in such a light. “How much is this tree again…and where are your bigger ones at?”

Sighing, you stare wistfully at the couples walking around the park. This time, it’s a pleasant distraction from your lonely thoughts when Jin sits next to you.

Jin nods at the single rose grasped in your hands. “What’s with the one flower? Shouldn’t your significant other buy you a whole dozen?”

“I bought it.”

Jin looks embarrassed at your icy tone. “Am I interrupting a date.” He looks around wildly trying to spot someone headed this way.

“Yes...no, not really.” Your sigh is long, heavy, and depressed. “I got stood up.”

“Oh…I’m sorry.” Despite the two of you not getting along all the time, he is genuinely sorry.

You don’t catch it though, still openly hurt about your failed date. “So, go on then. Brag about how awesome and romantic your Valentines is.”

Jin’s silent and the air feels awkward. It’s always heated between the two of you, but never awkward.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“No, I get it.” Jin shakes his head. “We always step on each other’s toes purposefully, but I’m not that big of a jerk, you know.”

You do. “Sorry.”

Something catches Jin’s eye and he gets up so fast it makes you jump. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back.”

“…Ok?”

While he’s gone you stare down at your rose in a pity party of one, only for a couple minutes later to have a pair of shoes to step in your vision. Looking up, you see Jin looking nervous with a giant bouquet of tulips. If you counted, there are twelve.

“What are these?”

“Tulips.” He ignores your pointed look and shoves the tulips into your face. He only continues after you grab them from him. “Here’s my awesome Valentine’s day plans. You and I are going to walk down the pier, eat our weight in funnel cake, and watch the sunset.”

Jin slips the single rose out of your hand and tucks it in his shirt pocket. “Look, I’m already being more romantic than you.” He looks at you with a haughty expression that basically yells, what are you going to do about that?

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” The fight is back in your eyes as you willingly fall for his bait. You stand up and wave the colorful tulips at him. “I’m going to romance your socks off.”

Jin can’t help but laugh at your fighting words. “Sure, whatever you say.”

The wink he throws you is equal parts charismatic and cheesy. Your reaction is to whack him with your tulips a few times for good measure.

#btsghostiemarathon #btsghostie #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts humor #bts angst #jin fanfiction #Jin x reader #Jin fluff #jin humor #jin angst #enemies to lovers #my writing #bring it on

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yogi-thee-bear · 4 years ago

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Improving Writing Style

Our writing can be flat sometimes. It’s the worst thing that can happen to us. If the writer is bored, then the story is boring. We need to spice up the recipe. Once writers brush up on their writing style, they’ll find more motivation and inspiration. How the project reads and floats is what gives your story life. Writers have to roll out a red carpet before revealing their main character. Style is a complicated concept to learn. In school, I never covered these kinds of topics; instead, I looked through Youtube videos. After days of research, I’ve found 5 fundamentals that writers need to keep in mind.

Metaphors:

For me, metaphors are the most difficult parts of writing yet the most important. Metaphors connect us to the scene, the character, and even the villain. Readers will understand the situation more once you compare whatever it is you are writing about. But how do we do this?

“Maven is more desperate, surprising himself as much as me. He knows I’m sinking fast, a stone dropping through the river. And he wants to drown with me. Excerpt From: Victoria Aveyard. “Red Queen.” Apple Books.”

Mare is comparing herself to a stone. The connection points Victoria Aveyard makes are; 1.) She is sinking in her situation, 2.) she’s sinking into her steamy kiss with Maven, and 3.) the setting takes place near a river. Metaphors don’t always need 3 connection points, but the more power the connection, the more influential the metaphor. I’d also like to point out this example has a lot of the build-up to it, so don’t think you have to start this strong. The best place for a metaphor is when you’re facing an obstacle, or you’re trying to describe something the senses can’t capture. Yes, the sense could capture Mare’s kiss, but the metaphor gave it meaning.

Sensory:

I’m sure you know of the five senses, but can you work them into your writing. We sometimes forget readers can’t see what the writers see. They are a blank canvas ready to be splattered with the bright colors of paint. You shouldn’t overwhelm us with several senses but instead just explain two.

““I was just trying to watch the game.” Scarlett wrapped herself deeper into the curtains, but Legend pulled her away. His hand was as cold as snow, his youthful face concealed by a shadow. Frost nipped Scarlett’s naked shoulders. Legend laughed and wrapped both hands around her waist. “I didn’t invite you here to watch, precious.” His mouth moved closer to hers, as if he was about to kiss her. “I want you to play the game,” he whispered. Then he threw her off the balcony. Excerpt From: Stephanie Garber. “Caraval.” Apple Books.”

We see and feel what Scarlett is experiencing along with deceptive dialogue. Knowing how the scene looks and feels causes the audience to be sucked in. We feel the frost nipping at her shoulders. Next, we see Legend pull Scarlett out of the curtains. Finally, we experience the fall and fear Scarlett is witnessing.

Word choice:

Denotations vs connotations. Curiosity vs nosy. Denotation is the dictionary definition. Connotations have a different tone of the word. Nosy has a more negative depiction, and you would NOT use it if you were writing about Sherlock Holmes. ( Well, maybe you could)What you should focus on is your word choice. Keep in mind your sentences require clarity and simplicity. Don’t overload the reader with unnecessary words.

““Don’t touch me!” I jerk away, glaring, clutching the foot of his bed like it might be a weapon. “I should shoot you all over again for doing that to me! I should — I should — ” “What?” He laughs. “You’re going to throw another pillow at me?” I shove him hard, and when he doesn’t budge, I start throwing punches. I’m hitting his chest, his arms, his stomach, and his legs, anywhere I can reach, wishing more than ever that he weren’t able to absorb my power, that I could actually crush all the bones in his body and make him writhe in pain beneath my hands. Excerpt From: Tahereh Mafi. “Ignite Me.” Apple Books.”

Juliet is trying to fight her love interest, and from the sound of it, she’s angry. The words she uses to describe her movements make sense. We have a sense that she is fighting aggressively but failing at the same time.

Show vs Tell

Show me, don’t tell me your character is in pain. Instead, show me your character crying in the corner. The show sees your character using her power. This part of the writing style brings your story to life. Every writing professor emphasizes with this in their teaching. This fundamental is like adding frosting to the cake. In fiction, you have to show the scenes. Other than words, Readers have no other visual. This is how you experience the final battle or explain the first kiss. Show us.

“Her hands felt guided. She didn’t fully understand, nor was she completely in control. But she trusted. Kyoshi braced her stomach, filled her lungs, and slammed her feet into the Crowding Bridge stance. Echoes of power rippled from her movement, hundredfold iterations of herself stamping on the ice. She was somehow both leading and being led by an army of benders. A column of gray-stone seafloor exploded up from the surface of the ocean. It caught the hull of Tagaka’s cutter and listed the ship to the side, tearing wooden planks off the frame as easily as paper off a kite. Excerpt From: F. C. Yee & Michael Dante DiMartino. “Avatar, The Last Airbender: The Rise of Kyoshi (The Kyoshi Novels Book 1).” Apple Books.”

Kyoshi, the GOAT Avatar, is bending earth she can not see. From the words we are given we are able to see the picture of the earth bender using her extraordinary strength

Descriptions

Descriptions can make or break your story. Either you can set the scene, establish a problem, or overload readers with exposition. We have moments where we stop and absorb how the character looks and why the things the way things are in the description. I would try to avoid dialogue for as long as I can when writing these. Get your description out before or after the conversations.

“Principal Falcon has a bronze sculpture of a falcon on the edge of his desk. I stare at it, wondering if it’s the sole reason he became a principal. No other office would have held this sculpture so well. Maybe a government office, like Governor Falcon. I’m sitting between my mom and Olivia. My mom got dressed up and insisted that I dress up too. I didn’t, per se, but I’m not wearing sweats. She sits on my left in her attorney clothes — wide-legged black slacks that tie at the waist, silk white blouse tucked in, black pointed-toe stilettos. Her legs are crossed, the bottom foot bouncing. Excerpt From: Joya Goffney. “Excuse Me While I Ugly Cry.” Apple Books.”

This example Establishes the scene. We observe the thought process of the main character Quinn. It’s simple and to the point, paving the way for more dialogue. We learn how Quinn views her principle, how serious her mother can get, and how anxious she feels.

#creative writing #Writing #Writing tips #Books #Authors #Fiction

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amarantine-amirite · 4 years ago

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It's Not Up To You

I never once had any peace or rest. There was a persistent threat that resources and places would vanish without a trace. Even though I never got my ass handed to me daily, I could never anticipate when I would be able to catch my breath.

I had to adapt. I had to be able to alter my expectations faster than the circumstances would change. It forced me to abandon having a set image of what I want in my mind. It took away my ability to visualize. I had to anticipate resources disappearing in the future, so I had a hard time with long-term planning.

Going into the week, I had it all figured out. I had found an iron-clad way for me to have my cake and eat it too. It may not have been ideal, but at least I still had the resources available.

My mother planned to drive me to my piano concert. Because she had a stressful day at work yesterday, she went to the bar. She neither came home nor returned any of my calls, so I assumed she was either crazy hungover or still passed out. I now had to hitch a ride with Jackie and her sister, Henrietta.

Henrietta drove like she had lead feet. “Uh, Ettie,” Jackie asked, “you just blew through a traffic light at”

“Don’t tell me how fast I’m going; I need to know where I am!” she snapped.

“Can we at least stop and get lunch?” I asked. I last ate at 7:00 AM. Bad things happen when I try to function on an empty stomach. My temper gets worse. My impulse control goes to Hell. I bounce off the walls.

“Hell, no!” Henrietta snarled, “If we stop to eat, we’ll get stuck in a traffic snarl!”

“OK, what’s your problem?” I whined. I had no idea why Henrietta got so upset.

Henrietta sighed angrily. “Do you wanna know why I’m so fucking pissed off?" she barked, "Those fuckers moved up my fucking interview by a fucking week. I was supposed to get married today! All that money I spent on the venue, the photographer, the catering; that’s money I’m never going to see again!”

I don’t know how Henrietta could say that without bursting into tears. “And what about Jasper? He’s going to think I broke off the wedding because I don’t have feelings for him anymore. I’m worried. He doesn’t handle rejection well. What if he tries to kill himself again?”

What happened next felt like being in the desert and coming upon an oasis, only to discover it’s a mirage. When we arrived at our destination, everything went up in smoke. Before we left, Henrietta told me that she would drop us off first, then head to the interview. She looked at us and said, “Nobody's leaving until I finish my interview. Understand?”

I nodded. Inside, I wanted to smack her. Hard.

Today has been nothing but hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait. I fucking hate being jerked around like this. The constant stop-and-start made me feel like someone drained of my life force. I can’t deal with it anymore.

Jackie and I came up with a plan. The plan was simple, like Henrietta’s would-be husband, Jasper. Unlike Jasper, the plan stood a chance of working. When they let her in to do the interview, Jackie and I would duck out and go to my piano concert. We’d come back when I finished my set, and that’d be that.

Problem. We made a huge tactical error.

It’s a long story. At the beginning of the school year, the cheerleaders thought it would be funny to nominate Anna Rose, the head of the chess club, for prom queen as a joke. Anna didn’t know about this, but the principal did. On Halloween night, we got something really scary in our inboxes: an official email with the school's letterhead saying that due to “bullying", prom would be permanently cancelled until measurable snowfall in July. A lot of the anxieties that kids channel into what they’re going to do at their prom got redirected elsewhere.

The kids at school got offended. By everything. Like, a lot.

Remember how I said that school has been so hard for me because I have no idea what to expect? Well, this piano concert thing was a perfect example. I had to make a list of not just one song, but for possible songs that I could play at this concert. I need to be ready to switch out songs in case the band teacher changed his mind. He always did stuff like that. One day, you could pick whatever song you wanted for school concerts, and the next, they would say that it had to come from a pre-approved list. So that meant I had no idea what song I was going to play. When people asked me, the best I could say was, "I’ve got a lineup." Lineup was not a good choice of words; a better choice of words would have been revolving door .

This brings us to our mistake: the same reason that I had to keep a revolving door of songs in my mind for the concert was also the same reason why we should have called the hotel where the concert was to be held ahead of time to double-check to see if the school had not cancelled it. We did not do that.

That brings us to right now. We are smack dab in the middle of what appears to be a campus recruitment event. Everyone in the room except for us is wearing cheap suits that fit somebody else, nobody looks familiar, and the atmosphere consists of a general air of anxiety and lack of preparedness.

Five minutes after we arrived, a woman wearing a pantsuit that made her look like a pool table, pineapple earrings, and a name tag that read “Megan Mulroney“ approached us. “Excuse me, ladies," she said, “are you students at The Fletcher School?”

“No, we go to Arthur Vandelay high school," Jackie said, “I’m here with Margaret because she’s got a piano concert to go to.”

I stood up and looked at Megan. “So is that in the Gold room, because I got a copy of the flyer here and it says Hall B, and I don’t know where that is, and…”

Megan cut us off. “I don't know what you’re talking about,” she said.

I handed Megan the flyer. “I’m talking about this.”

She didn’t look at the flyer. She gave it right back to me. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but that’s a piece of blank paper."

“It’s not blank!” I chirped.

“Yes, it is; and I don’t appreciate you wasting my time like this.“

“We’re not wasting your time.”

“Well then, why am I dealing with two overdressed high school idiots when I have new grads to check in for a networking event?” she said, doing her best impression of a bratty 12-year-old.

“Why are you so stubborn?”

Megan shrugged at us and rolled her eyes in a cocky fashion. “I'm not stubborn all the time. I'm only stubborn when I’m right.”

Big red flag. If someone says I'm only stubborn when I'm right , it means they're putting up a front, either because they don't want to but they're wrong or they're trying to bullshit you.

She continued to puff herself out. “Listen, you’re not special. What happens to you happens to other people, too.”

“Not helpful,” I said as I rolled my eyes.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, sorry you feel that way.”

“What does that even mean?” I blurted.

She ignored us. Rather than explain what was going on, she instead attempted to have phone sex with Idris Elba and got the wrong number.

It didn’t stop there. One look out the window told me we’d have to get someone else to pick us up, as Henrietta got arrested. I’m guessing she found out that the job she applied for was posted as an April Fool’s Day joke and she either trashed the office or beat the crap out of the hiring manager. Based on the black eye, I think it was the second thing.

Terrific. Now we have no plan, no ride home, and no idea what the fuck is supposed to happen next.

I’m devastated. I feel gutted. But beyond that, I'm spooked.

This isn't something you'd consider typically scary. It felt like that last photo taken before a disaster. This looming sense that something catastrophic is coming down the pike continues to hang over me.

@writers-are-writers

#writing #writers on tumblr #writers #short fiction #short story #bjork #creative writing

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kanene-yaaay · 4 years ago

Text

No Moving

Kanene’s note: One year ago I threw a surprise party (very small and cozy) in my house and, after some hours, one of mah friends suggested we played some old games from our childhood and I remember my first thought was “Hey, no. We’re not children anymore.” but I said nothing because that sounded a lot like what society would want me to say. We played. And that was one of the best days I’ve ever had. Good enough to give me inspiration for this fanfic. With a lot of chaos and dorky sides and chaos and tickles!!! So I'm giving this to myself as a gift, because, ya know... S e r o t o n i n! Soooo, the lesson? Idk. Be feral, do chaos, play and f**k the society, I guess. Happy day for us all!!! :DD

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders and his series Sanders Sides!

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!! ^w^)b

* This is Ler!Roman and Ler!Virgil with Lee!Logan and Lee!Patton. Around 3.700 words.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Eu vou traduzir ainda ;w;. Thank you so so so much for being with me through all this crazy and difficult year. It’s been a bless to have all of you in my notes, my askys, and my notifications! Take care of yourself, lollipop, you deserve. <33

[~*~]

It was a sunny day. The heat from the biggest star of our solar system being placated by a relaxing wind incessantly throwing the napkins from the so careful, yet messy – as if this wasn’t a tradition the quartet repeated affectionately every single year – decorated table. The friends positioned themselves around it. The surprise party’s rush being already over after all their screaming, singing, eating and bickering, leaving the four to lazily chat or stare the breeze carrying lonely flowers around Virgil’s – the one who offered his house as a sacrifice to the chaos - yard, making them float in the air for some seconds before forgetting them on the dirt again.

Virgil snored softly from the spot he conquered on the tabletop, taking a peaceful nap. Patton was saying, in the fastest pattern he could muster, all the dad jokes his brain managed to think only to see how much time Logan would continue to give him the silent treatment before finally – and figuratively, the owner of the only brain cell of their group would say if he heard this narrative, - exploded and Roman?

Well, Roman was bored.

“I HAVE AN IDEA!!”

Then he slammed his hands on the top of the wooden object, successfully scaring Virgil out of it and of his sleeping – leading the poor adult to fall. Not before kicking a cup in Roman’s direction, his moves being weakened enough by his fogged brain so he missed it and hit Roman’s carefully manicured hands, instead, – at the same Patton, by reflex, slapped the two poor persons who had the bad luck of sitting next to him. He gathered the perfect timing to interrupt Logan’s scared jump by his confused ‘Why did- why- Why did you hit ME?’ sputtering.

“Ow.” The one in red shirt held protectively his arm and hand next to his chest, protesting with his usual offended noises as analyzed the light red spots on them and purposely ignored the ‘What the FUCK, Princey??’ shouted by the host. “Ow. O-w. Are you guys seriously going to hit me every time I try to make your poor lifes better, your barbarians? You know what? I am offended. Your peasants. I am going to get my dear Amanda the katana and then I am- I am out.”

Logan deadpanned in his direction, lifting one of his eyebrows in his disbelief expression as the other didn’t give a single step to the exit. He did his best to maintain the façade as Patton fuzzed over him, hugging and apologizing and hugging and softly petting his head and offering cake before gasping and turning around to fuzz now over Roman. “… Okay. I am taking Patton with me.”

“Over my dead, haunted body.” Virgil quickly proclaimed before his tune got slurred, very much likely still sleepy. “I saw…” He balanced his hands in front of him, eyes wide and hair spiked, very much reminding of a scared cat. “I saw the angel of death, in all his tall dark, cold aura. In front of me. He was right before me, full of-” He moved his hands more, as if that compensated for his lack of words. “Emo.”

“…Thanatos?” Logan pointed.

“Yeah, yeah. That guy.” Virgil came back to his initial position laying down on the cold surface, yawing. “Totally emo.”

“Actually, when he was created-”

“Excuse me. Focus, focus!” The one who initiated the commotion snapped his fingers until all the eyes were fixated on him, glares traveling from interested to unimpressed. “My brilliant idea? That will light up this party and hearts? Drum the drums!” Silence. He turned to Patton, who was staring at a cute butterfly mindless flying around. “Patton! The drums!” The one wearing black rims seemed to come back to reality, drumming his fingers on the table. “Very well!” Roman spun, extending the suspense. Logan came back to scrolling on his phone, Virgil getting closer to take a look, both hiding a smirk when heard the pout in Roman’s tune. “You’re all jerks and boring. Let’s play S.T.O.P!”

That caught their attention.

“Roman, you are…” Logan talked slowly, as if trying to make his words as clear as possible, “aware that we’re adults now, right?”

“Aw, come on, guys!” Patton jolted upright. “Sounds fun! And I think Virgil’s yard is bigger enough to make it even better than when we played in middle school!”

“Exactly! And it was one of your favorites games when you were younger, remember, Specs? I think it’s a good way to celebrate that special date which is your birthday!” Logan scoffed at that, albeit his mind was somewhere else.

Roman wasn’t wrong, he really used to love this game, especially because he was good at it. His love for sports was often ignored by most of his classmates because of his good grades – Logan never understood why one thing would exclude other – therefore he was constantly forgotten in the team or even underestimated. Two things extremely crucial in a game like this. Roman noticed his contemplating face. “I mean, except you are afraid of losing. Again.”

“I did not lose! Kyle fell on me and he was the only one supposed to be out and not both of us and you. Know. It!”

“No, no, no! Claire said you were the one who tripped on your way and then YOU fell on Kyle-”

“That is nonsense! If Claire had stopped just one second her Dance of Victory, she would be able to see that, by the angle we both were on the ground there was no way I would be able to-”

“Oh, plu-e-ase. You are just a sore los-”

“What is this game?” Virgil questioned Patton, both letting the bickering fall on the background, who smiled widely, his gaze unfocusing a bit, probably watching some old memories of his childhood.

“It is a very simple but fun game!! One person stays next to a wall and, oh! We call him the Looker by the way! Or even some large thing and the others players stay the most away from him as possible. The person next to the wall has to count until a certain number of his choice and while he is counting everyone is free to wander around the place until he turns around, then every player has to freeze on the same spot and position they were. If you move and the Looker catches you, you’re out. You win if you touch the wall where he was. You can do everything you want as long the Looker is not staring at you.

“There was that one kid who managed to win the game by climbing a tree until he was close enough to jump from it and run to the wall before the Looker shouted he was out.” The one wearing two party hats as ‘cat hears’ stopped to breath. “Ah! Ah! Also! If you’re out you can choose to just watch the game or become the Looker’s partner and try to help him. Roman and Logan used to be the worst ever when together.” He giggled, sounding a bit hysteric.

“Hm. I think they used to call this ‘10 Seconds’ in my school, since you could count only further than 10 seconds.” Virgil then frowned. “Wait, why were they the worst?”

“Uhh, so, you see, the Lookers can use some… attics to try to make you move. Logan and Roman usually choose to-”

“I do NOT wish to participate.” Logan stated, crossing his arms stubbornly. Roman sighed.

“Well, you do you.” Roman then traveled his glare to the others two. “Are you guys coming? I’m the Looker.”

“I’m in!!” Patton excitedly got up, joggling his way to the yard, casting a slightly worried look at Logan, who was adjusting his chair in order to have a better view of the game. Virgil shrugged, taking off his hoodie and following them, quickly throwing a ‘You ok?’ as he passed next to the most professional of the group.

“Yes.” He deeply breathed, sounding calmer. “Yes, I am.” And then give him a bite of a smile.

Roman positioned himself before the colorful three foot tall concrete tunnel forgotten there by the last owner, barely catching with the corner of his field view his two friends whispering something to each other, the one wearing two party hats snickering behind his hand, bouncing as also choose a good position far away from him, who tried to not think much about what he just presented. A suspicious feeling crawled the back of his neck.

“Go.” Logan pronounced.

“Oneeeee, twooo, three, fourfivesixseveneight,” Roman turned away from them, counting in a tune just above a whisper. Patton and Virgil exchanged glances.

When he got at twenty, he turned.

Only to find Virgil laid on the grass, his arm extended to point something in the sky, Patton crouched by his side, his face firm in a puzzled expression staring in the same direction, hand above his eyes to block the Sun. Roman frowned in confusion, the curiosity tickling the back of his brain until he succumbed to it, also looking at the sky to - surprise, surprise! – find absolutely nothing!

By the time he stared at them again Patton now was in front of Virgil, both making what seemed like a very horrible parody of The Creation of Adam painting. Roman got closer, managing to clearly see the smug smile on Virgil’s face and Patton wobbly lips, very much likely holding laughter. He crossed his arms, staying stubbornly for some seconds before giving up, seeing that none of them moved a single millimeter.

“You two are so funny.” Roman rolled his eyes, sarcasm dropping from each word. Logan snorted.

This time the Looker counted at only fifteen seconds.

This time Patton was in Virgil’s arms when he turned, one leg suspended dramatically in the air. The third time Roman growled loudly as Virgil was on one knee, pretending to propose to Patton who was frozen in the middle of his faint. In the fourth he didn’t even have the chance to turn before two hands tased his sides, making his knees buckle but being held in the same place when a pair of arms that hugged him from behind, capturing the poor adult in a flow of high-pitched squeaks and surprised laughter at each squeeze and spidering deposited just above his hips.

Some minutes later soft snorts followed him to the ground when he was finally freed, flames running on his face and his arms firmly pressed at his sides, the ghost tickles leading to a sea of giggles dancing in the air.

“Enough.” Logan cut the moment, all the eyes on him when he got up, stretching and loosening his party tie. The Looker recomposed himself in order to sneak pokes and squeezes on the other two, who quickly dashed their way back to the yard. “You both clearly aren’t taking this seriously enough.” A dangerous gleam took over his eyes, staring intently to Roman, who instantly got the same kind of shine in his own glare, nodding in his direction. Both too much preoccupied to notice Virgil and Patton silently high fiving in the distance.

The game started again, now a very different electricity dancing in the air. Logan sensed an old feeling of nostalgia resting on his back as he analyzed the place and his opponents as things went by. Roman turned for at least three times – the perfect number for things to get really interesting, - before he decided to finally move from his place.

Silent steps, he went right to Patton. Logan breathed in relief, taking the opportunity to adjust his strategic position half behind the tree. Patton kept a pattern of switching from moving too fast in a round and then barely taking a step in the other, however, as Roman stopped before him, and for the way he soundless snickered as The Looker changed his target to Virgil, his weakness was still holding his laughter when stared for long periods of time.

Virgil was sitting on the grass. Again. A very good tactic when you tend to fidget or tremble a lot. He would stay in the same position for some rounds until in an explosion of energy dash forward when Roman wasn’t paying attention. The Looker crouched in front of him, his index finger pointing and almost touching his nose.

“You. I don’t trust you.”

And then there was Logan.

“You,” Roman stared in distance – not because of fear pffff of course not - Logan’s form half hidden by the foliage and trunk of the medium tree, his glass making his eyes gleam in a light even more enhanced due the shadow provided by the plant, the rest of his face being partially hidden because of his bangs falling on his features. “are fucking creepy. Stop.”

In the next round Patton gave everyone a heart attack when he screamed since he didn’t heard/saw Logan approaching his spot. Two more rounds. Virgil sneezed and lost his balance in a not very ideal mid-run position. Out.

“Oh, thank gracious, great goodness!! Come here, Knight Mare!! I have an idea!!” Virgil barely had time to stop swearing for losing before being recruited by Roman, who immediately began to whisper in his ear.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Patton asked, both being close enough for the question doesn’t need to be spoken above a murmur.

“Not a good thing for us both, I am sure.” In that moment The Lookers turned and a cold shiver ran Logan who, for the way Patton trembled, wasn’t the only one. Adrenaline started pulsing on his veins when they approached, although the birthday person had no idea of why. His old memories too much buried under newer ones for him to catch them.

“Nooohoho.” The cat lover whined and the fact Roman clearly saw that but did nothing to point it, his only reaction being to expand his grin, worsened Logan fears, a ray of recognition finally shining on his mind. That should be how karma feels.

“Look at you both, just standing right there, not being allowed to move an only single inch. What a sad fate, don’t you think, Princey?”

“Oh, absolutely, emo. A horrible, wondrous thing, indeed. But you know what that would be perfect for?” Roman now was just a few centimeters away, the infinitesimal distance being cut when he inclined forward, his breath tickling Patton’s – Poor Patton – ear. “Revenge. You know, Pattycake, Hot Topic here told me the previous attack on my amazing person was your idea. And now that I stop to think, what a wonderful idea, don’t you think, Pat-pat?”

Virgil pulled lightly Roman’s shoulder, sensing the other about to crack but yet having too much fun to end this all so early. “But not now. No touching, right?”

“Oh, right, right. Of course, no touching!” He wiggled his fingers, barely away from the poor target’s ribs, his cheeks already beginning to get pink from blush. “No touching, no touching, no touching, but, most important than anything else: no. moving.”

“Oh, yeah.” Virgil took the opportunity to walk around, stopping right behind Patton, who firmly closed his eyes, the smile he carried getting bigger. “Because the exact, very moment when you can’t take the teases anymore so you break and move?” He tsked. “Then all your protection will be over and you will be all helpless and vulnerable for us to tickle,” He almost purred the words, in the slowest way possible. “tickle, tickle, tickle for hours and hours. Can you imagine that, Popstar? Our fingers prodding and squeezing and tickling every single ticklish spot they find?”

“Ohoho.” Roman evil laughed. “Tickle spots? My Dear Imbalanced Romance, our pipsqueak here doesn’t have any tickle spots. He IS a tickle spot. Ah! I can almost hear his hysteric high-pitched squeaks and giggles! Such an adorable, beautiful, cute melody to my ears. Actually, I don’t know if I will ever be able to stop, Virgil. It’s just all too beautiful and intoxicating, you know?”

“Mm hm,” The other seemed to stop to think. Patton felt like he was going to melt at any moment. “Well, we could always just keep going forever.”

“Of course!” Roman again ignored the slight trembling of the cat lover’s chest, probably due all the giggles trapped there. “Don’t you think it will be wonderful and oh, so, so fun, cutiepants? Receiving all the tickles and nuzzles and raspberries and tickle hugs and tickly butterfly kisses forever and ever and ever? ~” He sing-song the last part.

“But,” Logan almost jumped in the same place, not even realizing how much keyed up he was before Virgil’s breath attacked the back of his defenseless neck. Suddenly all his nerves were hype-aware that he couldn’t turn around or run or even rub away the tingles. Goosebumps ran freely across his spine. “Let’s not forget about our so sensitive nerd here too, right?”

“Sure. Sensitive.” If he didn’t know Roman for all these years, Logan would almost swear he was the Cheshire cat, his smirk almost blocking Patton who hugged himself behind him, giggling quietly. “Because the serious, smart, professional Logan would never be ticklish, right? That is such a childish thing and he definitely, definitely outgrow it for now.”

“Yup. I am sure that, if we slowly and thoroughly spider our fingers all the way up from his sides to his armpits, being sure to give each and every rib a special attention since we don’t want to let anyone feeling left out, there will be no reaction.”

“Absolutely! No reaction at all! Not even if we squeeze the hollows of his hips, or scribble on his already quivering tummy, or massage his shoulder blades or lightly, almost not touching, scratch his armpits… It will be all in vain since our birthday boy is not ticklish.”

“Which means: No wheezy, frantic laughter.”

“Or sputtering among his squeals.”

“Or cute snorts. Don’t forget the snorts.”

“And what about when the snorts get mixed with his belly laughter?”

“Ohh, that is some good shit you have there.”

Logan was dying. He was fucking dying and the only thin line keeping him alive was his stubborn nature. He could already feel his barrier cracking and crumbling right before him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, only to find both Lookers walking away back to the tunnels, not taking long before starting to count, this time out loud. The one with the, now freaking out, braincell began to snap his fingers non stop, trying to get away some of the built excited energy, some titters escaping from his lips during his happy stimming.

Roman and Virgil looked at each other and then the adorable scene right in front of them, deciding to have mercy and wait patiently for Logan and Patton – who yet didn’t stop giggling and hugging himself – to calm down.

(…)

One. Move.

And in the next second, they both were tackled on the ground.

“No, no, no!!! No!!” Patton was already giggling, trying to run from Roman’s firm hug, attacking with squeezes and scribbles in every spot he succeeded to research on the Looker as he also tried to escape from his friends’ hands attempting to hold him in the same place. “Wait, wait!” He cried, barely catching a glimpse of Logan’s trashing before an idea popped in his mind. “If we all gang up on Logan, I will tell about his secret tickle spot!!”

“Patton!!” Logan’s protest came out difficulty between his tight grin due his constant effort in trying to buckle Virgil from him, both struggling to immobilize the other and playfully rolling in the grass. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Pffft.” Roman said, a happy cry following his sentence when he finally managed to hold one of Patton’s hands, intertwining their fingers so the cat lover wouldn’t try to pry it away. “Nonsense, I know his tickle spots.”

“Not all of them. ~”

“Patton, I am to going not figuratively end you. Get OFF, Virgil-”

“In your dreams.” He crackled. “Also, Patton, I’m listening.”

“Virgil! Don’t align with the enemy! And, of course I know all of them!”

“Even the one…”

“Patton, no! Stop!” Roman even if concentrated in tickling Patton’s knee so he could sit on his legs, got the slight tremble in Logan's voice, his curiosity one more time starting to take over his brain.

“Sorrey, sorrey, Lo! You know I love you but-”

“Patton, please.” Logan almost smiled as he fought his way to hug and trap Virgil from behind, but losing his balance as the other quickly turned and delivered a raspberry on his neck and quick squeezes on his left thigh. “dON’T!! I-I am going to bakeEEK - Fuck! - you a whole batch of cookies if you don’t tell them!”

Roman caught in the offer, his curiosity immediately perking up, answering in a bat:

“I’m going to tickle you both to pieces if you don’t tell us now.”

“Sorrey, Logan,” Patton tried to sound apologetic, but his excited smile made this task more difficult. “it’s you or me.”

“I’m going to tell them about your calves!” Logan threatened at the same time Patton said “It’s his lower back!”

“TRAITOR!” Both also shouted in synchrony. In a blink of eye Roman let Patton go and helped Virgil to make the most serious one of the group lay down on his stomach.

“I despise you all.” The aforementioned pronounced.

“Aww. Come on.” Virgil lowered, searching the other’s eyes, grinning. “Aren’t you enjoying the view?”

“400.000 years of evolution for humanity to become this. You all should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“You know, talking like this makes me think you don’t want us to give you your so dearly craved birthday tickles, Pocket Protector!”

The three of them stared at the other, looking carefully for any slight indication that Logan was truly uncomfortable with the situation, receiving as response only a scoff, the blush painting his face as a whispered mumble flew from his mouth.

“You’re so cute!” Patton squealed, giving a light tickly kiss on the back of his neck, leading the attacked to suppress a small giggle which progressively got louder as the cat lover tickled his armpits, Roman and Virgil seeing unfazed by Logan’s squirming. “Okay, okay. You have to tickle his lower back but starting with reeeeeally slow scratches at his sides before speeding it to the fastest scribbling you can muster as you move to his spine!”

Logan hid his hot face behind his hands, the yelps and snorts already escaping between his fingers. He was, objectively, going to love every single second of this.

#Ler!Roman #Ler!Virgil #Lee!Logan #Lee!Patton #brief Lee!Roman & Ler!Virgil/Patton #Teases #Teasy cute nicknames #playful tickles #Sanders Sides tickles #Happy stimming #Sanders Sides tickling #tickle fic #Logan playing is inspirated in one friend of mine who is adorable until he starts to play then he becomes a fucking thing #out of a fucking horror movie #If he got too much close of me I would scream and I'm not kidding. He was terrifying and he loved this xD #Ohhh so that is how writing a self indulgent fic feels like-#My first plan was to make a LAMP series with all their birthdays but life said 'no' and then I just worked with what I had and #being pretty honest??? I am so so so much proud of it.#Especially looking at my first tickle fic ever which I wrote around this same time last year #Btw when I used to play this at school light tickles and teases were allowed xDDD #EXTREMELY RARE but allowed xDD #Self care is writing ur self idulgent fic while listenning your fav nostalgic playlist

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caxsthetic · 5 years ago

Text

Stuck With U

Oikawa Tooru x F!Reader

So lock the door and throw out the key. Can't fight this no more it's just you and me. And there's nothing I can do, I’m stuck with you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *. GRAND MASTERLIST .* :☆ﾟ. ───

═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·. 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ♫ .·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══

I'm not one to stick around One strike and you're out, baby Don't care if I sound crazy

═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·. 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ♫ .·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══

"Ugh," You were frustrated when you heard the news, a frown appeared on your face as you threw the television remote at the couch, plopped yourself there immediately, "I couldn't believe that 2020 would be like this."

Your husband was just grabbing some snacks from the kitchen when he heard all of the commotion you made. He looked at the screen, curious for the cause of his wife’s moodswing.

“Lockdown?” He asked you, and you just nodded there while your eyes glued on the screen. Oikawa knew how much you love going out. Either it’s to meet your family and friends, or just to enjoy the atmosphere outdoors.

He put down the popcorn that he grabbed from the kitchen on the coffee table before sitting down next to you. His eyes pierced into your figure, asked you to look at him without saying a word. With a frown still plastered on your face, you turned towards him, questioning his stare.

Reassuring smile formed on his lips, your shoulder that was tense before started to relax at the smile. He opened up his arms, inviting you to fall on his embrace. Your frown has now disappeared completely thanks to him, changed to be a sincere smile, joyful to have him here with you.

He tilted his head to the side, wondering why you didn’t fall to his arms already. You giggled at his expression and decided to just give in. He closed his eyes once you were in his embrace, sniffling at the citrusy scent that your hair shampoo produces.

“You are such a dork,” Your voice sounded muffled as you drowned your face on his chest. When he laughed, the vibration that his body created made you laugh too. And the two of you were now a giggling mess in each other’s embrace.

“At least I am your dork,” He tightened his embrace, kissing the top of your head and rocked your body, “Let’s fill this lockdown with a lot of memories, my queen.”

You closed your eyes, wondering what did your past life went through to make you have a wonderful husband by your side. A happy tear slipped from your eyes,

“That would be my pleasure, my king.”

═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·. 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ♫ .·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══

But you never let me down, no, no That's why when the sun's up, I'm stayin' Still layin' in your bed, singin'

═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·. 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ♫ .·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══

“TOORU! THE CAKE BURNED!”

“Whaa!!!!!”

You immediately opened up the window as he turned off the oven. The smoke made the two of you cough at the moment. You turned towards him, he was there still whopped his chest as he coughed.

Once the two of you calmed down, he looked at you too, jolted when he found the menacing glare on your eyes. But in a split second, you laughed, and the sight of you made his heart swarmed with joy. He couldn’t help but laughed too and walked up towards you.

“You stupid,” You snickered as you remembered his face when you asked about the cake, “This is why we should have continue our make out session on the kitchen.”

“Wha- We haven’t cleaned up the kitchen island yet!” He pouted and folded his arms across his chest, “I don’t want my ass to be coated with flour!”

“I am sorry, Tooru. I love you, but what ass?” He gasped, clutched his hand on his chest when he heard your sarcasm. A look of betrayal was visible on his face,

“You are evil, (Y/n)!” You laughed so hard at this, it’s been so long since the last time you spent all day long laughing with him - though at the end you were the one who usually laughed at him.

“Aww, I am sorry, baby! Did I hurt you?” He pouted at you, but when he saw you extended both of your hands towards him, he couldn’t help but tackled you to the ground immediately.

He was tall, and it always made you feel so small when he was engulfing you. You didn’t know what expression that he had right now since he hid his face at the crook of your neck, “I am sorry, baby. Let me bake you some milk bread, how about that? As an apology?” He didn’t answer and it made you worried,

Is he really that sensitive when it comes to his ass?

��Okay,” He answered around twenty seconds after you offered him the milk bread. Slowly, he pulled himself away and stared at your face. There’s a pout on his face, “But I am still angry with you!”

You giggled, cupped both of his cheek and pulled his face towards you, pampered him with kisses,

“Such a pouty king~”

“I-I am not!”

═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·. 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ♫ .·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══

There's nowhere we need to be I'ma get to know you better Kinda hope we're here forever

═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·. 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ♫ .·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══

You were awoken in the middle of the night. The moon shone so bright in the sky as it lit the room that you shared with your husband. When you opened up your eyes, you would usually see the soft brown locks and the calmed state of the said man as he snored a little beside you.

But he was nowhere to be found right now. You sat up, looked around the room as you searched for any kind of trace that you could notice. A little frown appeared on your lips when he was nowhere to be seen in the room.

While your body wrapped around the comfortable blanket, you decided to take a walk outside the bedroom. All the windows that were placed all around the house let the moon accompany you on the mission to tuck your husband back on the bed.

It was chilly, and the fact that the two of you had a house on the mountainside made everything worse. It felt so wrong to fall asleep and wake up the next morning without him, so you need to find him, as fast as you can.

And here you were now, leaned your body on the door frame of the cinema room. Oikawa was there, seated on the black bean bag. His brown eyes glued to the record that he played. Familiar songs and people talked made you know immediately what the record was.

Slowly, you walked up towards him and dropped the blanket on the carpeted floor. You decided to put yourself on his lap, knowing it would be the most comfortable place to sit.

He was startled at first, didn’t expect to see you here. Especially suddenly plopped down on his lap like this. But he didn’t complain,

“Did I wake you up, hm?” Oikawa asked with a little hint of guilt, his fingers ruled out the hair that was falling on your face. You only shook your head and laid your head on his shoulders, eyes focused on the screen too.

“Why did you watch this?” You smiled a little at the scene, “Goodness, I am a crying mess that day.” It was a video of your wedding day, if only waterproof makeup wasn’t invented yet, maybe your face would be black already from the cascading mascara.

“It’s just-” He let out a long sigh, “There’s a lot of things that I miss from our wedding day.” His arms wrapped around your waist, “I am so selfish, just because it was near the national tournament, I poured all of the burden at you.”

There's sadness in his eyes as he said it out loud. From his voice only, you could see that he started to blame himself again, and you didn’t want that.

“Tooru,”

“I don’t know why you chose the ceremony near the waterfall,” He bit his lips, thinking about how strong you were to think about all of this alone, “I don’t know why you chose tulips to adorned the wedding arch. Hell, I don’t even know why you chose me at this point.”

“Well,” You took his hand on your lap, caressed it gently as you tilted his head to look at you, “Then ask me now, we have all the time in the world at the moment, Tooru.” You brought his hand on your lips, kissed it while your eyes glued on his face, “Throw me anything that was inside your head, I will answer them all.”

His brown eyes were now filled with gratitude as he stared at you. He could never have asked for a better significant other. You were so patient, accompanied him from time to time as he embarked on his journey.

So he did exactly what you told him to. He asked you all of the questions about the wedding, about what you usually did in the house when he was not around, what you think about children, overall it were questions that he was afraid he would miss from you.

“I am such a jerk, huh?” He huffed and looked to the screen once again when he realised he didn’t know that much about you, the one who was always there for him, “Didn’t know a thing about our wedding was the worst!” Oikawa was frustrated by now, and every reassuring word that you blurted apparently didn’t get inside his heart.

“Hey, look at me.” You pleaded, wanting him to understand that it was your choice, to be with him, “Tooru, my king, look at me.”

He finally turned his attention towards you once again. Right now, he looked like a puppy who was lost in the street, didn’t know where to go, “I have something that I want to share with you…”

═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·. 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ♫ .·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══

There's nobody on these streets If you told me that the world's ending Ain't no other way that I could spend it

═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·. 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ♫ .·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══

Oikawa stood nervously at the end of the staircase. His hair was down and slicked backwards at the moment. He didn’t know why he was anxious, he had been through this before anyway.

The whole house was adorned by tulip petals, right from the front door to the backyard terrace. One sound that filled the air was the waterfall audio from the television, it was a clip from some National Geographic video that you cut and put it on a two hours loop.

You called out the florist the next morning after your deep conversation with him. It was a miracle that they could deliver a lot of tulips. The flower was a symbol of your wedding, and you couldn’t recreate that moment without it.

“Alexa, play Oikawa Playlist.” You said it once you were standing near the staircase on the second floor. White wedding gown wrapped perfectly around your figure, the same wedding dress that you wore at your wedding day with the professional setter one year ago.

It was a silly concept, to recreate the wedding, the wedding that your husband thought he missed so much. So you decided to throw the wedding once again, just the two of you, inside the house that had now become home.

Oikawa looked up at the top of the staircase, mouth agape when his eyes laid on you. It was a sight to behold, the sight when the love of his life finally fell to his embrace. The moment that would never make him tired.

The same wedding songs that you save on your phone played in the background as you took step after step to go down the stairs. He looked angelic with the white suit and a stalk of tulip on his breast pocket.

He looked so ready now, a hand outstretched towards your figure once you were already on the last staircase. It was like magic when your hand finally grabbed his, interlacing together like a sign that the two of you would stuck together with each other.

“You were crying, Tooru.” You smiled when you saw tears glimmering on his eyes, “I never thought that you would cry again,”

“Say you!” He didn’t even bother to wiped his own tears since his thumb was now gently erased the tears that were prickling on your eyes, “You looked so beautiful though,”

“Yeah?” The two of you just stared at each other, absorbed every tiny detail that could be found on each other’s face at the moment.

“Yeah,” He cupped your cheek with one hand, caressing your cheek that now had a little stain from the tears, “Can I kiss the bride now?”

“No! We should share our vows first, and then exchanging the ring, after-”

He shut you up immediately with a gentle kiss, closing his eyes when his lips finally touched yours. From how you ramble and the goofy looked that you throw at him, he knew that you were just joking around. And he made you sure to never joke around when he asked to kiss you.

The two of you swayed your body together, following the beat that was now played around your house. The entire floor had become your own personal ballroom as both of you danced around the floor while keeping each other close.

“I could stay here for a lifetime, my queen.” He put his forehead on yours while his hand put on your waist, “Who knows lockdown could bring such a miracle?”

“Well, my king, I still want to submit a complaint...” You smiled at him even though your voice sounded annoyed, both of your eyes falling into each other, “You know you drove me insane sometimes by not taking care of yourself, right?”

“Pfft, yeah.” He’s not going to lie, he knew he hurt you numerous times already by neglecting his own health, “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you like that.”

“It was nothing,” You tiptoed, gave him a gentle peck on his lips, “I still wouldn’t change a thing even if someone gave me a chance.” He twirled your body around, grateful to have you here as his wife.

When he realised the songs were coming to an end, he decided to dip your body gently to the ground. His arm wrapped on your waist, securing you as you stop midair.

It was like the time stopped at that moment. It was just you and him, and there’s nothing else that the two of you could do right now except bathed yourself in each other’s love.

“We got all that we need, huh? Together.” His breath touched your lips as he spoke, the deep brown eyes twinkled with adoration as it pierced on your face. And right at this time, there’s nothing else that filled your mind except him.

“Don’t be bored, then.” You gave him a little smirk, “You are going to be stuck with me forever, mister.” He chuckled, then answered the statement with another smirk from his face,

“I wouldn’t want anything else.”

═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·. 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ♫ .·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══

I still wouldn't change All this lovin' you, hatin' you, wantin' you I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you

═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·. 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ♫ .·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tagged Lovelies:

@nitricflame @vventure @heccingdead @muffins-puffins @miyulovestowrite @nanashinanashi @vlovers-world @proplayer-kenma @kashika @cuddlyasahi @blacckdiamondposts @muffngw @baby-boy-taichi @of-heroes-and-dreams @for-ests @giyuwu-san @oli-imagines @lordeofthunder @miyatsunami @benewol @allywritesimagines @iwaixiumi @hihiq @gulfwanq @the-fandom-ness @quirksandbreaths @dear-green-tea @verbluehte @7gothic0puppy7

#oikawa tooru #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru imagine #oikawa tooru imagines #oikawa tooru scenario #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa tooru angst #oikawa tooru adult #time skip oikawa tooru #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst

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shouldntcryoverit · 4 years ago

Text

the art of discordance

captain rex x jedi fic

taglist -> @pinkiemme @alwayssleepingforreal @mackstrut @writer1

warnings - injuries (shot) blood but no detailed depictions :)

CHAPTER SIX

The thought of Rex’s hands on her hips refused to leave her mind; the pressure still remaining. A fluttering in her stomach was a constant reminder of the growing tension between the two. Jaida couldn’t deny how clouded her mind would become whenever he was around; it was entirely useless, and yet impossible to rid herself of.

A plan was conceived as the low hum of light electrics filled the ground with a buzz. Rex’s mind wandered thoughtlessly. They had decided their best option was to steal a ship, and fly back to coruscant before doing anything that could stoke a war. In truth, it was the first thing that had been able to agree on that night. They didn’t argue, didn’t even bicker - but there was something aggravating about it all.

“it’s night now, if we’re gonna try and get as far as we can, now’s our best shot”

“the hanger’s in the centre of town, we ought to storm it, sneak our way in and fight to a ship” Jaida folded her arms around her chest. Her voice was hushed, an unconscious decision brought on by how silent the night really was.

The pair managed to make it into town, avoiding most major settlements and drifting along the outskirts. Even from their distance hiding along a row of market stalls, they could hear the methodically thump of droid armour pacing; it mixing with the fresh scent of rain and produce that laced the air.

Jaida stepped forward first, forearm outstretched to discard the front guards without a sound. She managed, knocking them both down and crushing them with a flick and a fist. Rex nodded, and worked on the door panels, while his jedi stood guard.

The woosh of the door opening was a signal for Reyes to relieve herself of her position, and she moved in front of Rex; skirting around corners to check for unfriendlies.

It was clear, though that small victory was overlooked despite its possible suspiciousness.

“quick, come on” Jaida smiled, visually enjoying the chase.

Rex took charge and moved in front of her, his pistols readily held. He led to a second entrance, and allowed Jaida to take watch while he tried to open the door.

“i can’t jig it” he groaned

“move then” Jaida sheathed her weapon and took residence at the panel, using a hip to push him out the way. Rex was baffled for a minute as she pulled at wires, finally choosing one and ripping it between her teeth. The door clunked half way open, and Rex turned his head the way he always did when he was irked by something. Jaida loved it.

“i could’ve done that a lot cleaner”

“who said it had to be pretty?” Jaida countered with a fired smirk, bending under the half opened door and pushing it upwards.

The two walked into a more open area, knees bent to stay low and weapons in outstretched hands. Jaida was focusing on the two tunnels, specifically which one they should go down, and only noticed the shift in presence when it neared closer. Rex’s shoulders jerked at the slight sound etching the corner of the hallway. He reacted instantly, grabbing Jaida’s hand with him as he ducked into a ventilation shaft.

“hey!“ she tried, eyeing how he’d whisked her away as if she weighed as much as air. Truthfully she had no problems with it at all.

“shh” Rex was overly conscious of the possible enemy, but also incredibly thankful for his helmet in that moment, which was hiding his rapidly reddening cheeks.

Jaida stayed quiet for a moment, but huffed.

“come one” with fiery eyes and a wide grin, she clasped his hand and dragged the captain up with her. His apprehension was right, three senators with a droid company were entering the hanger.

“Go!” Rex yelled, firing at the slightly confused arsenal.

Jaida followed suit and jumped in front, deflecting the first few shots.

“Kark it” she muttered. The jedi force pushed the senators away, locking them behind a door, and sprung at the droids opposing them.

Rex found himself relieved of targets in a matter of seconds, Jaida standing in the midst of a pile of deconstructed droids.

“that worked too” He joked breathily.

“heh” she flexed her hand around her lightsaber, but her head turned quickly at a new sound. “ack, incoming”

She grabbed him on her way to the exit, finally having decided which tunnel to go down. They weren’t alone this time, and their footsteps were mimicked by another wave of droids.

Nonetheless, they rounded a corner and were faced with a choice of three ships. Now, with the droids behind them, Jaida was almost out of options. Her face contorted at their reinforced armour and doubling numbers.

“get..on one!” she shouted over the sound of gunfire - finding herself worn out by the amount of droids and the lack of cover or space. Rex did as she had asked and moved to power up the nearest ship. With each step he took he fired another shot, but relented to start the engine.

“Come on we need to go!” Jaida’s commlink spat out his words. She hated to retreat like this, but she had no choice. Deflecting two or three more blasts she turned and backed up onto the closing hatch.

As she reached the cockpit, her lightsaber felt heavy in her hand, and her breath felt jaded.

The jedi leant forward over Rex’s chair to punch the ignition to life. The ship activated, and they left the hangar in what certainly wouldn’t be classed as a smooth exit.

Jaida let go of the lever, and slumped over his shoulder, breathing heavily.

“this is Capatin Rex, does anyone copy?” Rex’s words were clear, yet Jaida could hardly hear them over the sound of the blood rushing through her ears. It was when she sat down on the chair beside him that she realised she couldn’t hear the usual sound of the engines either.

“Rex, this is Skywalker...” it was distant yet near. Her breathing became the only thing in her mind, especially how shallow it had become.

“Rex” she managed “i- uh, i think i got shot” but her scentence trailed off just as she felt his hands reaching for her bleeding side.

Luckily it didn’t take long for them to reach Coruscant; the journey mostly taken up by Rex trying to keep Jaida awake. He tried to ignore how much of her blood was still caked on his hands even as she gave heavy lidded smiles at his comments. As the ship docked into the hanger Anakin and Obi-wan were shocked to see their captain run out in reddened armour, panicked and with wavering focus. Kix had batted him out of the way quickly enough, and he was able to finally exhale the breath he’d been holding ever since.

Cody found the captain after hearing about the mission while partaking in a visit to the medbay. His excuse was a fractured thumb - something Rex was bound to quiz him on, or guess the cause being his inadvertent tendency to punch, rather than to shoot.

“Captain, you’re not usually this quiet” their was a hint of a smile in Cody’s voice as he stood beside his younger brother.

“i’m fine if that’s what you’re asking, Commander”

“suppose that was quite a mission you got yourself into. Oh and I heard about what happened - she’s going to be fine” The hint grew even stronger as Rex’s jaw flinched at her mention, then relaxed once more. “your general that is”

“uh- good” Rex countered hastily, arms still crossed behind his back and not turing to look at his superior. The tone of his voice matched the same one he’d been using ever since they were cadets, and Cody had accused him of something. Cody remained silent without a smug grin and oh how it annoyed Rex.

“i wasn’t worried”

“I never said you were”

Rex turned his head, jaw firmly set.

“Cody”

“mhmm?”

“Shut up”

The Commander grinned, and clapped the Captain on the back before leaving to continue with his own duties. Rex hated that. Rex hated the fact that he was worried, and very much so.

#captain rex x reader #captain rex #rex x reader #501stlegion #the cw #the clone wars #clone wars

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florenceandthemachine · 5 years ago

Text

@hearteyesforbuck asked:

I have been dying for a meet-cute au where Eddie takes Chris to the gym once a week and they box a little together before Eddie spars; usually Chris sits by the ring and reads but one day Eddie finds him laying on a bench, lifting an empty bar while this really cute blond guy spots him and gives him encouragement ....

guess who’s asks are still broken?

Tumblr keeps adding the “Read More” into the ask box, which breaks the entire post when I try to post it. Why is it happening? No idea, but if anyone knows how to fix it, please let me know, this is getting really old.

anyway, fun fact that I just learned about myself—if you want me to dedicate 100% of my brainpower to writing 4.5k of something in one sitting, you just throw in Christopher Diaz.

Eddie liked to think of himself as some kind of a “do it yourself” kind of dad.

Most of the time, that was a good thing.

Kitchen faucet broke? No worries, Eddie has some plumbers tape and three different YouTube videos telling him how to fix it.

Car wouldn’t start? Not a problem, Eddie bought the full repair manual offline and knows his way around a wrench.

Christopher needed forty gluten free, egg free, dairy free cupcakes for class tomorrow? Eddie was perfectly capable of... admitting when he was outmatched by a stand mixer and calling thirteen local bakeries to see if they delivered, because his car still wasn’t starting.

Point is, if there was a way he could work on something, Eddie would at least try it—and needless to say, that got a little complicated where Christopher was involved.

Eddie still wanted to do a lot of it on his own. Chris was his kid, and no one else's, and he didn’t even like being away from him while Chris was at school—he wasn’t sure if that was guilt stemming from leaving Chris as a kid, or guilt about introducing Shannon back into his life only to have her wind up dead, or guilt about... well, pick-a-thing, but he was pretty damn sensitive about what he perceived he could do to help his kid.

Which is why, when Chris’ physical therapist gave Eddie some suggestions about how Chris could work on strength training at home, Eddie dove completely into the deep end, head first, no floaties.

Working on Chris’ fine motor skills had been cake. Writing, drawing, arts and crafts, even playing video games, all helped improve Chris’ hand eye coordination (and if Eddie ran out of room on the fridge for Chris’ masterpieces and started framing them instead, well, that was his own business, no matter how nosy the busybodies at Michael’s got).

Working on his gross motor skills, though, that was another story. They could go on walks, sure, and they did every day. Eddie could hook up the trail-a-bike to his own once or twice a week so Chris could ride along with him, without worrying about his balance, but those were both leg heavy activities—and while it was great that Chris was building his core strength and leg strength, Eddie wasn’t about to just strap a wrist weight to Chris’ arms and call it a ‘well rounded workout’.

Short of more physical therapy, Eddie was at a loss as to what to do—so when Google Maps pushed him off the 101 to avoid a wreck on his way home from work and he got caught by a stop light right next to "Ricky’s Boxing Gym”, Eddie felt like his prayers had been answered.

Over the next few months, they had set up a pretty good routine. Eddie would bring Chris to the gym, they would hop into one of the many rings, and he and his son would get a half hour of quality time, three times a week. Eddie had his own set of boxing mitts, and Chris thought that spending a half hour trying to punch his dad’s hand was the most fun a kid could have after school. Chris would tire himself out and sit on the bench, drawing or reading for a while more, while Eddie would actually spar with one of the staff members, get his own workout in, and then they’d go home.

Nine times out of ten, they’d stop for ice cream or pizza, and completely undo any of the workout they had actually done, but Eddie thought that was a small price to pay for the whoop of joy Chris let out when he actually managed to hit Eddie’s glove dead center.

Eddie’s sparring partner of choice (well, after Chris) was Tommy Kinard. He was nice enough, and kept Eddie on his toes, giving him plenty of time to look over to Chris to make sure he was safe, and happy, and occupied, and (“Dad, I’m fine! Go punch someone!”) okay, maybe he was helicoptering a little bit. He hadn’t really thought it was a problem until Kinard went on paternity leave, leaving him in the capable, and brutal, hands of Boscoe.

Boscoe was a beast. He didn’t know her first name—didn’t know if she had a first name—but what she lacked in pleasantries she more than made up with strength. If Eddie was being honest, though, he kind of loved it; even after the first day they sparred together, when he wound up limping into the 118, proudly admitting to Hen that he had been beat up by a girl.

The thing was, Boscoe was intense, and while that was a good thing, it gave him less of a chance to helicopter over Chris.

Which, okay, maybe that was a good thing too. Whatever.

He knew the gym pretty well by that point, and knew the people who worked there, knew he could trust Chris with any of them—which is why when he looked up after dodging a jab from Boscoe, and saw Chris absent from his bench, he only panicked a little bit.

When he managed to take a wider look around the gym and saw a familiar pair of shoes laying down on a workout bench, the rest of him obscured by a bigger, bulkier body, that panic went from 0-60 real quick.

“Hey!”

He only barely managed to dodge a glancing blow from Boscoe as he ducked beneath the ropes, grabbing a towel to blot at his face as he hopped down. His voice was little more than a quick bark through the gym as he stepped around another group of machines, his frantic pace slowing a little as he got into earshot.

“... yeah, come on buddy, you can do it! Come on, give me one more rep! You got this little man!”

Fuck, had this stranger actually given Chris a set of weights?

His temper was white hot by the time he finally got around the front of the machine, opening his mouth to shout, to get a manager, to do something, but the words died in his throat as he took in the scene before him.

Because Chris was definitely on the bench, and he definitely had his hands on the bar—the bar that was completely devoid of weights, Eddie noticed, the same bar that had two much larger, stronger hands attached to them. Hands that were probably doing all the actual work of lifting the bar, because Chris was laying back, unable to speak, because he was giggling so hard.

The bar landed back on the rack with a dull thunk as Chris pulled his hands back, sticking them straight up in the air triumphantly as he sat up. The man behind the bar gave a big show of leaning against the frame of the bench dramatically, fanning himself, giving Eddie a full view of an employee shirt, name badge, and the gym logo stitched across the polo he was wearing.

Whelp, that was almost very embarrassing for him.

“Holy cow, that was such a good job! Man, you have got to be the strongest kid I’ve ever met in my life!”

“Dad, did you see me? Buck says I’m super strong!”

Eddie had to admit, he was a little thrown by whatever was happening here, but Chris was obviously having a good time, and he felt the white hot anger dissipate into something a little less angry and a little more embarrassed.

“That was some pretty impressive work, buddy! Have you been holding out on me?” Eddie dipped down and tossed a few playful jabs at Chris, selfish only because he wanted to prolong the joy his son was obviously feeling, but it was all worth it as he was handsomely rewarded when Chris started giggling again.

The man—Buck, Eddie gathered—laughed, drawing Eddie’s attention upward, and for a moment, his brain short circuited, because there was no way on earth a gym rat could be this... pretty.

Because damn. Buck was pretty.

Pretty enough that Eddie was easily distracted, waxing poetic (internally, thankfully) about beefy arms and a plush lip that he didn’t notice what was happening until Buck stuck a hand out, smiling, and Eddie could only guess what was going on. He reached out and took the hand, his own smile hitching as Buck’s face slipped into confusion.

“Uhh—”

“...I was asking if you wanted me to take your towel for you and get you a fresh one.”

Oh. Right. Towel.

Eddie’s face burned as he pulled the towel off his shoulder, handing it over, giving a too-tight laugh as he nodded his head. “Yes! If you could get me a new towel so I could strangle myself in embarrassment, that would be great.”

Well, at the very least, that got Buck to laugh again—death would be worth it if that was the last sound he heard. “Sorry I kind of stole your kid. He was wandering in between the machines, and it’s my first week off of the evening shift, so I just wanted to make sure he didn’t get hurt—but then he started asking about all the weights and pulleys and stuff, you have a really smart kid!”

Total Gym Hottie (Buck, his mind corrected. If he was going to drool over someone the least he could do was use their name) was complimenting his kid now, and Eddie was so star struck he was actually proud to say he didn’t stumble when Buck nudged his shoulder, head jerking back to the ring he had abandoned.

"...anyway, I think strangulation is the least of your worries, if I know that look, Boscoe has an entirely different death planned for you if you don’t get back in the ring. Go on, I’ll help little man here wheel you out on a gurney when she’s done with you.”

Buck sounded way too positive about that, and it was all Eddie could do to groan and walk back to the ring, tail between his legs.

Sure enough, even after he had the next day off, he was still sore when he walked into the 118 for his next shift.

Buck became easily, seamlessly, a part of their routine, in a way that probably deserved a little more insight on Eddie’s part, but insight was for suckers. At least two days out of the week, their schedules aligned—Eddie and Chris still worked on their exercises, but now it included Buck giving a dramatic play by play on the sidelines, talking up Chris like an announcer, or just otherwise causing shenanigans.

It was worth it, easily, because while Chris was certainly never a negative kid, Eddie had never seen him in brighter spirits. And Buck... well, anyone that could find a way to help out his son in a way that Chris clearly enjoyed earned an instant gold star in Eddie’s book. The fact that he was easy on the eyes wasn’t a bad thing, either.

“Diaz, I swear to God—”

Eddie only barely ducked under Boscoe’s extended hand, forcibly rooting himself back in the moment, looking guiltily back to her instead of watching Buck and Chris.

“—can you pay attention for like three minutes so I can hit you without feeling bad about it?”

Eddie tried, he really did, but it was hard. A few weeks had gone by since their initial meeting, and Eddie had gone from “wow he’s pretty” to “full high school crush” in no time flat. It wasn’t his fault, though—because what sealed the deal wasn’t the moment Buck had switched to tank tops over polos, or how happy Eddie was to spend time staring at Buck’s magnificent ass (and it was really, really magnificent, let the record show), it was how he interacted with Chris that sent him over the edge.

Buck was good with Chris, but somehow that was the understatement of the year. He was kind, and he was bubbly, and he was just in sync in a way that Eddie wasn’t even sure he had reached, and Chris was his son. Buck was patient in a way that seemed effortless, easily slowing himself down or changing what he was doing when he noticed Chris struggling, wether it was in going over a math problem while Eddie got the crap beat out of him or just showing him how some of the different machines worked.

Hell, right now, Eddie had his hands securely around Chris’ hips as he lifted the other male to a chin-up bar, helping Chris count out the pull-up’s he was doing—and while all Eddie could hear was Chris’ laughter, all he could see were the thick cords of muscle attached to Buck’s arms, lifting Chris like he weighed nothing.

Eddie wondered, not for the first time, if Buck could lift him like that.

Like she was a horrible mind reading pervert, Boscoe smacked him with an open hand—not hard enough to hurt, but not soft enough that he was going to ignore it.

“Diaz, this will be our last session together. Kinard is back next week—” Another punch, a quick jab that Eddie blocked with his forearms. “—so the least you could do is focus on me and not the apple of your eye over there.”

“Buck isn’t the apple of my—fuck—my eye, grow up.” Eddie huffed as he threw out a punch of his own, his hand knocked away violently, only barely dodging the sharp hook that Boscoe sent to him.

“God, I was talking about your kid, Diaz. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Oh.

Ignoring how red his face was, Eddie grumbled and threw another quick jab, though he missed completely as Boscoe stepped back, a grin on her face, and Eddie knew better than to trust that look. The last time he trusted that look, he had been talked into fighting bare-handed, and he still wasn’t sure his knuckles would ever really work again.

“You know, Kinard is supposed to take you back as a client, but I bet if you asked nice enough...”

Oh no.

“Hey, Buck!”

Oh no. Eddie looked up in horror as Buck easily lifted Christopher onto his shoulders—god, so much muscle—and jogged over, with the nerve to not even be out of breath when he smiled up to the pair in the ring. Eddie bit his tongue and leaned over to high five his kid, fully prepared to deal with whatever terrible thing was about to come his way.

“Kinard was supposed to take Diaz here back after he’s off leave next week, but I know he wanted to ease back into things after being away from the gym for a few months. You think you could spar with him in the interim?”

Oh, no, didn’t seem to cover it anymore. Eddie was having a hard enough time focusing on the task at hand when Buck was in the same building, he would be signing his own death certificate if he had to stare Buck in the face, and then try to hit said face. He hadn’t even seen Buck break a sweat before—he didn’t know if his little bisexual heart could take it.

He was somehow both relieved and regretful when Buck shook his head, looking plenty apologetic as he pulled Chris up and off of his shoulders, making sure that he was steady on his feet before he leaned up against the ropes. “Sorry, Eddie. I don’t really box, and besides, I think Chris and I are making real progress while you get your butt kicked. Show him the guns, Chris!” Buck said, and Chris immediately started some classic strong-man poses, Buck posing dramatically behind him, and Eddie felt his heart melt for two entirely different reasons.

Buck turned around mid pose as the door chime went off, giving Eddie ample time to count out the individual strands of muscle fiber in the moment before Buck relaxed, turning with a smile back to the gang in the ring. “Lena, that's my next client. Chris, Eddie, I’ll see you both next week, yeah?” He said with a grin before he fist bumped Chris and waved to Eddie, slipping back into Professional Buck mode. Eddie waved back, brows almost in his hairline as he looked back to Boscoe, who was scowling at him.

“So—”

“No, Diaz.”

“Wait, why not? Buck gets to call you Lena!”

“Beat me in the ring as often as Buck does and I’ll consider it.”

Eddie had his mouth open to retort when Chris cut him off, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he tilted his head. “Can I call you Lena?”

She didn’t even hesitate a moment, nodding her head seriously. “You can absolutely call me Lena, squirt.”

Chris promptly stuck his tongue out at his dad, and Eddie reacted in sort, falling to the floor of the ring as he grabbed at his chest. “The nerve! Betrayed by my own child, my own flesh and blood!”

Chris looked thoroughly unimpressed, sitting back on the bench as he started to pack up his schoolwork. “Lena, can you tell my dad to stop being such a drama queen?”

It wasn’t until they were both in the car, that Eddie, thoroughly beaten down by his son, his trainer, and his own brain for providing a play by play of Buck that day while he was in the locker room shower stall, really thought about what Buck said.

He didn’t box. Which was strange enough in a boxing gym, but whatever, there were plenty of machines that Buck could be working on instead.

But them Boscoe (god, he couldn’t even call her Lena in his head, it felt like she would figure it out and beat him to death) basically admitted that Buck regularly whooped her behind the ropes

If Buck wasn’t boxing in a boxing gym, what the hell was he doing?

As it turned out, Eddie didn’t have to wait long to figure it out. Barely a week had passed before Eddie had received a call from Chim, all but begging Eddie to switch shifts so he could take the girl he had been seeing out on a proper date. The switch was a no brainer—Maddie seemed like a great girl, and as much shit as he gave Chim for... well, being Chim, he obviously wanted to see his teammate happy, especially when the only thing he would have to change was a gym day from a Monday to a Sunday.

If he had known that this would be the day that sealed his fate, he probably would have reconsidered the switch all together.

The gym was packed—which probably wasn’t surprising for a weekend day, but damn, Eddie had been glad he booked a ring with Kinard ahead of time. It was nice to see a familiar face in the gym anyway, one that wasn’t trying to beat the crap out of him in the ring, and once Kinard joined up with them, it was easy to shoot the shit. Eddie congratulated him on his step into fatherhood, ruffling Chris’ hair as he did—not that Chris noticed, busy scanning through the machines for a familiar blond head.

Not that Eddie could judge, when he was doing the same thing.

“Hey, I’m gonna toss my stuff in a locker. See you out here in a sec?”

“Yeah, sounds good! Buck and Boscoe are almost done in their ring, we have it next.”

Eddie was halfway to the locker room before what Kinard had said clicked in his brain, and he immediately did a 180, making a beeline to the rings set up on the far side of the gym, easily spotting the pair when he knew what to look for.

It was no wonder that neither he nor Chris had recognized Buck when they walked in—he was literally drenched in sweat, his usually fluffy blonde hair dark and slicked to his forehead, scowling around his mouth guard as he danced around Boscoe.

Boscoe, who Eddie had never seen so worked up. Damn, she really hadn’t even had to try during his matches. Wasn’t that a blow to the ego.

No, Buck definitely wasn’t a boxer, because this was a dance. Every move he made, he made with his entire body, his energy flowing through each form, moving easily and gracefully in a way that shouldn’t have been possible with such an incredible amount of force and flat out violence. He almost felt dazed as he followed Buck’s movements, but in the best possible way, his eyes snapping back and forth as he tried to trace where one hit ended and the next began.

“Wow.”

Eddie was glad that Chris said it, because he still couldn’t find the muscles needed to pick his jaw up off the floor. He didn’t know if Chris had followed him over to the ring or if his Buck-radar was just that good, but for the time being, Eddie was more than thankful for the minute distraction as he ruffled his kids hair again.

Boscue was moving more desperately as the match continued, launching into a series of quick jabs, but even Eddie could see where that was her downfall. Buck knocked her arm back with her last punch and sent a kick straight for her shoulder, but then he twisted his entire body off of the mat and his other leg was in the air too, and Eddie instinctively sucked in a breath as Buck locked her neck between his thighs. They both came crashing down to the mat, struggling impressively until Boscoe slapped Buck’s thigh twice, and then—

—and then Buck was all smiles again, beaming as he released her and took a knee on the ring, helping her back into a sitting position, spitting out his mouth guard with an excited moment of praise for her technique.

Eddie could not compute. This was his downfall. Eddie is dead, long live Eddie.

“Holy cow, Buck! That was amazing! You’re like... you’re like a ninja crime fighting super hero!”

Well, that was one way to put it.

Buck’s head whipped around at Chris’ excited outburst, lighting up when he spotted Eddie and Chris near the bench, eagerly scooting forward into a sitting position closer to the ropes.

“Thanks, little man! That was some mixed martial arts, it’s super fun. I’ve been teaching Lena for a few years, she’s getting pretty good!”

Buck’s grin slid into something a little more proud and pleased as he looked to Eddie, and Eddie felt every muscle in his body tighten as Buck’s gaze burned through him.

“What did you think of that leg lock, Eddie? Total knock out, right?”

Oh fuck, was Buck flirting with him now? That had to have been flirty, right? Come on, Brain, do something.

“... legs.”

“...my legs?”

“Buck, your... your legs.”

Buck’s smile looked a little more pinched as Eddie groaned, shaking his head. “Okay, I, I’m sorry, but I have to ask you this or I will completely die. Can I take you out to dinner sometime? I know a great place off the strip, you’ll love it, my treat.”

The look on Buck’s face was skeptical, at best, but at least he wasn’t shutting him down, giving Eddie the benefit of the doubt (and giving him a moment to get his brain back online). “Because of my legs?”

“No. Well, okay, you have amazing legs. And arms, though, and like... a stupidly handsome face, and I would be blind not to notice those things—” shit, Eddie probably sounded like such a shallow asshole right now. “—but I’m asking because you’re really smart. And you’re kind, so kind to Chris too, and you’re patient, and... Buck, you’re really really sweet. And I would love to take you out for a dinner date the moment you can look past my apparent inability to form a single coherent thought.”

After a moment that felt much longer than the three seconds it was, Buck sighed and leaned past Eddie, looking critically to Chris. He slid down to his stomach, squinting as he dropped down to eye level with the boy. “What do you think, Chris? Should I give your dad a shot?”

Well, at the very least, Buck was asking the one person that Eddie knew he always had in his corner; and sure enough, Chris delivered. “I think so. Dad really likes you.”

That’s his boy.

“Last week he spent my whole entire physical therapy appointment telling Dr. Wilson how much help you gave me and how nice you were and how much he appreciated it. It got kinda annoying.”

...well damn, Eddie wasn’t expecting to be called out by his own kid like that, but if the suddenly soft look Buck was giving him was any indication, it might have been the necessary push to get him to understand how serious Eddie was.

Eddie tried to keep his excitement tamped down when Buck nodded, sitting back up. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. Only because you managed to ask me out before I could ask you.”

Wait, Buck wanted to ask him out anyway?

“If you can land three hits on me in three minutes—should be easy after spending a weeks with Boscoe—then you can pick the time, the place, and I’ll even talk Lena in to letting you call her Lena. But if you don’t...” Buck reached through the ropes to help Eddie up, tossing him a wrap for his hands as he did. “... then I get to pick the time, the place, and you start training with me in MMA instead of going back to boring old boxing.”

Eddie blinked at him in abject horror as Buck dipped his voice low, seeing with terrible clarity exactly where Boscoe had learned her terrifying grin.

“That way you can see my leg choke up close and personal. Deal?”

The stakes were too high, and Eddie couldn’t say no.

He was screwed.

He was elated.

But fuck, he was screwed.

(Three minutes later, Buck asked if Eddie was free on Friday at seven, promised to pick somewhere nice, and gave him a searing kiss before he disappeared into the staff locker room. Eddie, on the other hand, needed a spatula to peel himself off of the floor of the ring.

He had never been so happy that he could barely move in his life.)

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