#but alas I am quite slow. still! I of course had to start with this prompt! ]
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
sapientiiae · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
@fiiirsthero asked: ‘ you look like you just saw a ghost.’ random dialogue 2.0
Tumblr media
A startled gasp escaped delicately painted lips, the Princess of Hyrule stumbling back a step as she stared up at the man that approached her. His golden hair was as radiant as the sun itself, and his deep blue stare seemed to pierce through her soul, freezing her in the spot where she stood. She did, in fact, feel as if she'd seen a ghost, blinking back the haze as she swore both her eyes and ears deceived her.
It was Link that stood in front of her — the boy that had emerged from the forest with a fairy in tow. There were slight differences, namely the height, the clothes, and other smaller features around his cheekbones and chin. There was also the voice, but this man…it was the hero. Her hero! The Hero of Time had returned.
But that was impossible, was it not? Once Ganondorf had been defeated, she'd used the Ocarina of Time to send Link back to the past so he would have a chance to relive his childhood. She'd sent him back as an act of mercy to save him from the terrible fate that had been bestowed upon him. How could he have possibly returned? He no longer possessed the Master Sword or the Ocarina of Time, so it should not have been possible.
After staring long enough, the subtle differences became more apparent, a tell-tale sign that this man was not the same hero she’d known from years prior. The realization saddened the princess, leaving a pang in her chest, though she could not focus on that right now. If it was not Link — her Link — then who was he? And how had he gotten here?
“I feel as if I have…” she confessed, voice trailing and cheeks flushed. Despite their differences, the overall similarities were uncanny. Even now, Zelda could not help but to blink as she looked the golden-haired male over. 
“Apologies—“ she started, finally remembering her manners. “It is just….you look so much like someone I used to know…”
4 notes · View notes
muffinsin · 2 months ago
Note
hi! i am in love with your writing and would like to request something. if you either don't like my request or simply your request box is too full, it's completely okay! can i request how the dimi sisters would react to the reader having nightmares where the sisters leave the reader? but the reader doesn't tell the sisters about the nightmares at first, and they are avoiding sleeping all together. i really hope this makes sense and i'm sorry for waffling! 😭
Tumblr media
Hi, hon :) Of course, it’s been a while since we’ve had some angst-like HCs👀! Don’t worry, hon, it’s making perfect sense🙌😊
Let’s get into it :)
Masterlists
Bela
You twist and turn, panting lowly as you sleep
Unfortunately, you’re not yet aware that you’re sleeping, your mind plagued by a particularly nasty nightmare
You find yourself on the floor, sobbing, trying to hold onto the last bit of Bela’s cloak
You don’t understand why she’d suddenly leave you
You were happy
She was happy
She’s your everything, you can’t lose her
You thought, you were her everything, too
That she couldn’t, wouldn’t want to, lose you
But her beautiful, normally so warm, golden eyes are almost cold now, and harsh
The room you find yourself in is dark, she’s all you see
She is quite literally your light
You can’t lose her
You plead, beg
Why won’t she listen?
She doesn’t even offer you an explanation
You can’t make out her words, all feels so odd and blurry around you, as though you were underwater
Still, you feel the sting of her words, you feel your chest tightening at what she says
You know their meaning, you feel it, how she abandons you
No more love, no more desire
You gasp, cry out, plead as suddenly her sisters emerge from the shadows behind you
You scream when their sickles thrust into your shoulders
The pain, flashing hot and intense, still doesn’t compare to the pain in your chest
You don’t want to lose her!
“Please, Bela! Don’t leave me, please!”
“I love you!”
You try so hard to keep holding onto Bela’s cloak
You plead; please, don’t leave me
Alas, your words don’t fall on deaf ears. Merely merciless ones
She watches you, a bitterly nonchalant expression on her face
She leaves the room before you’re even fully dragged into the darkness
You awaken with a start, hot tears silently running down your cheeks
Immediately, your chest tightens as you look around the dark, quiet room
Then, your light
Bela sleeps curled up next to you, her book slumped against her hand at her stomach. She must have been reading before bed again
You calm slightly, try to calm your racing heart
You breathe in and out as gentle as you can, hoping to match your breaths to the soothing sound of her quietly buzzing flies
Instinctively, you wrap your arms around her and pull the woman to you
You inhale her scent, crying softly
Naturally, the light sleeper awakens, her golden eyes nearly shining in the darkness
Immediately, your cheeks are cupped lovingly
She asks what’s wrong, and your chest feels too tight to answer
You don’t talk, can’t talk, don’t want to talk
You only want to know she is near
And Bela, she allows it, she holds you tight as you hold her
You bury your face in her neck, wetting beautiful, blonde hair strands with your tears. If she minds, she doesn’t show
She holds you, and slowly your wildly beating heart slows again
She’s here. She’s yours
“I love you”, you dare whisper in the dark
A kiss to the side of your head is your first answer, the second follows whispered into your ear:
“I love you too, little one”
You’re held tightly, her soft words and the gentle hum of her flies enough to calm you again
Soon, she falls asleep again, and yet…you can’t
Each time your eyes begin to feel heavy, you blink heavily, force yourself to stay awake
While less shaken, you’re not over your dream entirely
Still, Bela makes you feel even a little better, despite the fears of your dream still haunting you
You hold her tight, try to convince yourself she won’t leave
You end up staying up all night
The following day you find yourself feeling utterly exhausted
Your eyes and body feel heavy, yet you refuse to sleep
You can’t help but worry the nightmare will return, that you will lose Bela, again
She’s worried, you can tell, wants you to sleep
You just can’t
You claim you aren’t tired, that you don’t need a break
When she wraps her arms around you in the morning and kisses your head, neck and shoulders, staying awake is so very difficult
Still, fear keeps you awake
You clutch onto Bela, hold her tight, kiss her almost desperately. She loves you so much, and you feel it
You don’t ever want to encounter the Bela from your nightmare, want to spend eternity with her, this Bela
Your Bela
You manage to stay awake for the whole day, occasionally flinching or shrinking into yourself when you see the flash of a sickle in the corner of your eye
Never aimed at you, of course, unlike in your dream
Your nightmare
Throughout the day, you’re by far clingier than usual
Of course, Bela notices, but she senses you aren’t quite ready to talk about it yet
Due to this, she merely sticks to your side, holds you and allows you to hold her, showers you in love and expresses her feelings openly for you
It helps you, even if it doesn’t erase the nightmare from your memories and thoughts
At night, your restlessness and exhaustion creeps up on you
Bela is with you, of course, and you automatically tighten your arms around her hips when you feel sleep creeping up on you
You whimper into her hair, inhaling her sweet, rich scent yet again today
“Love?”, she asks, eventually
She stays still in your arms, allows you to hold her as you wish
“What’s going on, little one?”
Her voice is so unbearably soft. Such a contrast to the bitterness of your dream
You hold her tighter, kiss the side of her head
When sleep dares to overtake you, you speak, quickly, eager to let her know before you can’t keep your eyes open and fall into a deep slumber you desperately want to avoid
She listens, quietly, but little hums and her buzzing flies let you know she’s listening patiently
By the end of it, it’s you who is held tightly in her arms, her fingers so impossibly gentle as they brush against your wet cheeks
“I’m here, my love”, she whispers
“I love you”, she adds. You feel your eyes shut at her featherlight, loving touches
“I will always be here, little one”
“I will protect you”, she whispers, just as you find yourself falling asleep
This time, no nightmares greet you, for each time you stir and whimper, Bela wakes you, just lightly enough to free you from the clutches of the nightmare before she allows you to keep sleeping immediately, sighing happily as you’re held in her arms
She keeps her promise
She will always protect you
Cassandra
Being a heavy sleeper, Cassandra doesn’t awaken when you twist and turn in bed
You whimper lowly, feel entirely too warm and cold at the same time
An awful dream, truly
You’re trapped in a cage, or perhaps a cell. You only make out the strong metal bars around you
At the other side, Cassandra
She looks angry, hurt, bitter, mean, pained
You try to reach out to her, yet your limbs feel far too heavy and she feels simply too far away
You cry, try to reach her so desperately
Finally, you can muster up the strength to raise your arm
It burns you when you reach through the bars, as though the outside was flaming hot and melting away at your skin
Almost, you manage
Almost, you can feel her, reach her
She steps back, her eyes dark
Steps away from you
You watch as she leaves, plead and cry, beg her to come back as you feel even the inside of the cage heat up
You want her. Need her. Love her
She knows this
She knows you would never hurt her, would never want to see her suffer
You only want to make her happy
Aren’t you making her happy?
She disappears into the darkness, and the heat rises all around you
Just as you feel you might be burned alive you shoot up in bed, sweaty and cold all at the same time
You didn’t even notice it, but you must have screamed, for Cassandra is on you instantly, pushing you onto the bed, hovering above your warm body with her sickle raised. Her golden eyes scanning the empty room for threats
You gently raise a shaky hand to her head
You’re terrified she will pull away
Alas, when your hand cups the side of her head and her soft, chocolate brown hair, she leans into the touch
“Just a nightmare, my love”, you reassure quietly
She doesn’t pull away at the petname
It all feels so surreal
You half expect her to leave you, to pull away at any moment
To feel her hungrily press into your palm and chase your touch nearly makes you cry in relief
A nasty dream, that’s all
One you don’t want to revisit
Using your girlfriend’s cool body temperature to your advantage, you essentially grab the sleepy brunette and tug her fully on top of you
She grumbles sleepily as she always does when you do this, but, as always, relaxes against you quickly
You hum tiredly, feeling her cool skin against your warm one
She hovers above you for a moment and you allow your eyes to shut momentarily when her cool palm presses against your forehead
It’s almost like you’re burning up to her, but with her cool body temperature she can’t be quite sure
You reassure her, you’re okay, rub her cool back with your uncomfortably warm hand
Again, she practically melts into the touch, flies buzzing so loud and happily it nearly sounds like purring
You smile at the familiar sound
All a dream, just a dream
You shouldn’t be up in the first place
Yet, just when you’re about to fall back asleep, flashes of the dream return to plague your tired mind
You tense up, hold your cool bug closer to you
She’s already back asleep, snoring slightly as she rests on top of you
Again, Cassandra effortlessly manages to calm you
And still, you decide; you can’t sleep, won’t sleep
You fear the dream will catch up to you. Can’t risk that happening
You stay up the entire night, the early morning hours, ready to greet Cassandra when the sun shines into the room and blinds her
Throughout the day you seem..jumpier, clingier, to her
She’s not an expert as it comes to behavior or telling when something is up, but even Cassandra notices something is clearly wrong
You squeak when, around lunchtime, she presses you up against the wall, the hands at the side of your head suggesting you won’t leave until she has what she wants from you
“What’s up with you today?”
She winces a little. There’s probably a better way to phrase this, but she’s never been good at that, either
Thankfully, you take no offense, cupping her cool cheeks lovingly
To your relief, Cassandra leans into your touch again
“Nothing”, you try to brush off
You feel almost silly, scared to sleep because of nightmares like a child. In the face of a fierce, fearless huntress nonetheless
Cassandra doesn’t buy your answer. She’s learned: “Nothing” does not ever mean “Nothing”
You stare into her eyes, a beautiful shade of dark gold
You almost find yourself opening up, but make up a lie at the last second
“I’m just sad the temperature’s dropping”, you say instead
Immediately, she seems to agree, her smile faltering as she nuzzles your warm neck. You feel her scowl, annoyed by the cool weather. You know how badly your darling girlfriend wants to go out and hunt, however unwise that may be. Thankfully, she has some self preservation skills
With the cold brought up and you allowing her to feed from your neck, the topic is dropped, and her warm mouth on your skin as she feeds helps you momentarily forget your nightmare
Then, the afternoon
You stick close to her, hold onto parts of her always. She doesn’t quite understand. You’re never this clingy, never feel uneasy when you’re not holding onto her
You refuse you feel this way, yet she easily picks up on your heartbeat quickening uncomfortably when she’s not near and smells the sweat building up at your body when you aren’t holding onto you
With her lack of social skills and understanding, she assumes you likely have gotten ill and require her cool skin to cool down
To her, it’s as good a guess as any
She grants you the close comfort, even as she skips training and torturing prisoners to spare you having to let go of her
It’s not something she likes to do, but a sacrifice she is willing to make for you
Instead, you find yourself smiling, holding onto her and getting to cuddle your not-so-cuddly girlfriend nearly all day long
She’s a little restless, though finds herself sleeping in your arms and nibbling at your neck often. Maybe, it’s not too bad
You feel happy, comfortable. With Cassandra like this, during the day, all bits of your nightmare seem so far away
Still, it’s there in the back of your mind, trying to creep up to you
Trying to convince you the woman doesn’t love you, she’ll leave you
You only hold her tighter, bite at her neck to hear her squeak in surprise occasionally, the rare sound enough to temporarily push the thoughts away
At night, things get difficult
You know, you can’t stay up another day, your body exhausted as it is, used to the healthy sleeping schedule you’ve adapted with your girlfriend
You wince as the world turns dark, the room shrouded in it, the bed a little too warm. A cage; no, a bed, blankets, nothing more, you tell yourself
Cassandra doesn’t miss this
After turning on the light per your request, you find her pouncing on you, holding you tight
“Something’s up”, she states, matter of fact
You gulp. Your eyes feel heavy. You don’t want to sleep, don’t want to leave your loving girlfriend
She waits, though you feel her occasionally squeeze your arm impatiently. Not something she’s particularly aware of, if you had to guess
“It’s just a nightmare”, you answer, quietly
She looks confused for a moment
You weren’t even sleeping
Then, it dawns on her. She searches her mind for ways to comfort you, ways her older sister and mother have comforted her when she would have a nightmare
“Would you like to talk about it?”, she asks eventually
You feel entirely too tired to fight against the urge to just let it all out
Wrapping your arms and legs around the woman, you hide in her neck as you talk
You tell her everything. Tell her about the cage, the darkness. Of trying to reach her, of losing her, of being left by her
She listens, only holds you tighter when she hears your heartbeat quicken and gathers you’re upset
You feel exhaustion creep up on you and hold onto her tighter
She isn’t sure what to say, isn’t sure how to comfort you the way you always seem to know how to
Instead, she simply says; “I will hunt down and kill all who pain you”
You can’t help but smile a little at her attempt
“You won’t leave me?”, you whisper into her hair. You inhale briefly, comforted by the scent of the forest and her perfume hiding the lingering metallic scent of blood
“Of course not”, she answers truthfully
With this, and her arms so very tight around you, you dare close your eyes again
Her body is cool, comfortably so. You feel sleep take you fast, even as you still cling to her like a koala might
And yet, you sleep well, no awful dreams keep you awake, this time
You finally rest
Daniela
You’re…running?
No, not running
You’re trying to run, that is
But it feels like running underwater, difficult and slow
You see Daniela in the distance, moving from you
It feels like you can’t ever reach her, but you know: you have to try!
You’re chasing her
You’re panting, crying
You call out to her, she turns to you
You smile. She must help you get to her!
But, no
Daniela keeps walking, her back turned to you again
You cry out her name like a prayer, pleading with her to wait up
You hear her voice all around you, dark and sinister
It feels harder and harder to run
You’re chasing her, but she seems impossibly far away
Then, suddenly, you scream as the ground below you turns to a black, bubbling mass
You realise; you’re drowning
And she isn’t here to help you
Daniela still moves, darkness slowly welcoming and shielding her from your view as you struggle
You try to follow her, still, cry, sob, scream for her
It’s futile, and you go under, slow enough for you to feel every ounce of fear in your body
You jolt awake and she’s immediately by your side
Still, the bed feels too big, the blankets almost suffocating
Daniela gasps in surprise when you rip yourself from her loving embrace, crying as you fall to the cool, wooden floor
She swarms to you again, sitting in front of you in an instant
And despite your futile attempts in your dream, you must try again
Only when you reach out this time, Daniela is there, squeaking when you all but tackle her to the floor in your eagerness to reach her
She giggles momentarily, wraps her arms around you
Oh, even asleep, she’s missed you!
But- something is wrong. Something is wrong about you. You don’t look happy, or okay, or rested
Having finally reached Daniela, you hold her close, hide your face in her neck
You almost can’t believe she’s there, truly
Daniela gasps when she feels you squeeze her torso, your touch almost painful. She doesn’t mind, just this once you’re allowed to bruise her porcelain skin
You’re crying, shaking on top of her. She tries to hold you a little tighter, minding her strength to cause no damage to your body
“What’s going on, my love?”
Her voice, so impossibly soft and loving
You inhale her scent, nuzzle her neck. She’s here: you’ve got her
You don’t want to let go again, want to keep holding onto Daniela like a pirate might hold onto their treasure chest
You don’t want to lose her, can’t bear the thought of losing her, even
Thankfully, you don’t have to
Daniela is yours, wholly
She holds you tight, coos and whispers loving phrases into your ear, kisses what parts of you she can reach softly
She holds you just as you hold her
You can’t sleep
You fear the nightmare might return, might force you through its torturous journey again
You can’t
Daniela doesn’t mind. She offers to stay up with you, all night long, having gathered you must have had a particularly nasty nightmare
You can’t help but chuckle lowly against her neck
Daniela somewhat has traits of a puppy’s the sweet thing can’t manage to stay up for more than half an hour, at which point she’s peacefully sleeping below you, snoring softly
You don’t mind
After all, she can’t leave when she’s asleep
LYou stay awake all night long, eventually even moved back into bed, if only to spare your girlfriend the back pain after spending the night pressed into the wooden floor of her room
And even as you held Daniela close and tried to distract yourself, the nightmare wouldn’t go away
Now, you jump up at the first sight of morning
Daniela grumbles sleepily, whining for just a few more minutes of precious sleep
You wish you could grant them to her, but you feel like you need to get out
Out of this room
Out of this bed
Away from all that reminds you of the nightmare
You end up supporting the tired woman as you gently tug her out of bed, giggling as she whines and holds onto you
Being made of flies and even more transparent in her sleepy state, she thankfully isn’t overly heavy, and simply keeps on sleeping the moment you easily lift her into your arms
You hold her close this way, bring her to the library as you search the endless shelves for a book that might distract you from the nastiness at the back of your mind
You pick one of her favorites in the end
You try hard to read, yet find yourself re-reading the same paragraph over and over and over again
In your mind, the vision of chasing her plays, of being stuck in place and trying to reach her
Of Daniela’s back turned to you
She only whines tiredly when you lift her face, holding her cheeks lovingly. She smiles, even asleep, when you kiss her forehead
It makes you feel slightly better
Daniela is here
She’s yours
She won’t leave
The visions just won’t go away
You hold her tighter, try to fight off the exhaustion and need for sleep that creeps up on you
You don’t want to sleep, don’t want to go back there
You just want to stay in this moment, this beautiful, beautiful moment of Daniela held tight in your arms, her body on top of yours, cuddled against you, her light snores enough to pull you out of your thoughts when they dare creep up on you
You make it another two hours, slip between reading and pinching yourself to stay awake
Finally, Daniela is up
You know, your sunshine of a girlfriend always manages to return some of your energy to you
And right you are
Ecstatic to awaken in her favorite room in the castle, she immediately jumps up from the ground, grabs your hand and tugs you along as she searches the shelves for new books
She insists, Bela and Mother promised they would get her new ones soon, and has since then checked the shelves each and every day
You hold her hand tightly, perhaps even a tad bit tighter than necessary, as she runs along
But there’s no chance you’re left behind, no way your hand might slip from hers, for she holds you equally tight
You giggle as she searches the shelves eagerly, pointing out her favorite books for what must have been the fortieth time
You don’t mind. You love it
Her energy is refreshing, fighting off the exhaustion and sleep that nearly overtook you
You smile as you follow her, knowing there are countless more books to come
At breakfast, she still holds your hand, even as she eats and bickers with her older sisters
Fortunately, Daniela is every bit the clingy textbook girlfriend
She wants to be with you all the time, wants and craves physical touch
She doesn’t mind in the slightest how you hold onto her, fearing she might leave and you won’t be able to reach her in time, again
For now, she’s oblivious to this. You haven’t yet spoken out on it
The food, too, restores some of your energy, but still you feel her body cry for more sleep
You refuse
You know, you can’t keep this up forever, but you can and will for now
After an offer to play hide and seek in the large castle, which you quickly shut down, you’re taken to the gardens with her
Her second favorite place at the castle, really
You hold her hand as she picks flowers, hold them for her when she doesn’t want to carry them herself anymore
They’re beautiful, and the fresh air does wonders for your body and mind
The horrific visions is nearly gone for the time being
When she insists she wants to craft you a flower grown, you abandon her hand in favor of pulling her on your lap immediately, your arms wrapped around her tightly
Even in the small moment of separation, you felt you heartbeat pick up faster
Now, you rest your head against her shoulder blades, calming now that your lover is held tight within your embrace again
You talk as she plays with the flowers, fitting them into one another
You listen to her ramble, smile and kiss her neck and back when you can
You don’t want to go back to sleep, ideally never again
A naive thought, but one you’re content to believe and indulge in, for now
The day passes too fast for your liking, so that you inevitably find yourself back in bed by the end of it
You try to drag it out, try to keep your sleepy girlfriend awake even when she whines and dozes off in your arms, already
When you’re forced to get back to bed, you hold her tight still, clutching onto her with your arms and legs
Daniela happily stays close to you, so very happy and content to be with you, especially this close
You think she’s asleep, hold her tight, when the memory of your nightmare returns
You whimper and sniffle, try to keep your heavy eyes open
You jump when she raises her head, clearly still awake, having only listened to your heartbeat for a while
She looks concerned, her beautiful eyes wide as she looks you over
“What’s wrong, my love?”, she asks into the darkness
You hold her a little closer, bring her face close to yours
You almost can’t bear the worry you find in her expression. You don’t want to worry her
You try to shake it off, try to brush it off like it’s nothing
Daniela raises an eyebrow and squeezes your hand encouragingly
“You can tell me anything, darling”, she promises
You insist, it can wait until morning
Again, she waits for you to change your mind, but sleep overtakes her quickly, her body soon slumped against yours no matter how she tries to fight it
But, she is not the only one
You don’t notice it until it’s too late
You’re running again, chasing her
She’s leaving you, again
You try to wake up desperately, scream and cry when the ground below you turns to the black mass again
You sink
And you awaken with a scream, find yourself cradled in her arms
You cling to her, cry, sob into her chest as she holds you tight
She can’t leave, she won’t, she’s right there
So why must your nightmare plague you like this?
When she asks you what’s happened, you open up
You cry as you talk, plead with her not to leave you
You tell her of the running, of the black mass on the floor, mud-like and almost functioning as quicksand that swallows you whole
She holds you, kisses you, squeezes you, assures you nothing will separate the two of you
You hear her buzzing flies, feel her chest as she inhales and exhales steadily
You try to copy her
She holds you tight
The room is quiet, too quiet, filled only with your cries and whimpers and pleas. And still, she soon fills it with her coos, with her hums, with the sound of her lips as they press against your wet ones
“I’ve got you, my love”, she promises, and you feel yourself calm slightly
“Nothing can get you”, she whispers
“The darkness isn’t so scary when I’m there”, she assures you, and you believe her
She’s here, right here
She holds you close, her arm slung around you, and you hold onto her for dear life
Soon, the room is filled with her soft voice as she reads to you
Instead of visions of running and chasing, you now find another scene in your mind, right from her book
A fox, small and cunning, followed by three little ducklings
Daniela smiles as she reads, remembering the story by heart. A story Alcina had read to them each time they couldn’t sleep. Which, frankly, was often. She wouldn’t need the book to tell it to you, but finds it grounding you, still
You imagine the three ducklings as they bite the foxes’ tail, quacking playfully as gentle paws pat them away
You imagine their little feathers turn darker as they walk through the wet bushes, their little legs filthy from the dirty forest floor
You imagine their little chatter among themselves as the fox sleeps, its warm fur keeping them warm even at night
You don’t even notice you’ve fallen asleep, Daniela and her story all that is on your mind
You smile, even as you sleep, right in her arms
111 notes · View notes
writeforfandoms · 2 years ago
Text
Fall Into Me 3
Find the series masterlist
We get to see the beginning of yearning here. It's gonna be good. :)
Warnings: Swearing, Emotions.
Tumblr media
Rose was not going to cry. She refused. For one thing, she was still in the coffee shop. For another, it was completely illogical to cry. It made no sense and it wouldn’t help. 
She just had to get through this last hour and go home. Maybe she’d get some ice cream on the way. Ice cream always helped. 
Of course, it would also be helpful if nobody else came in until closing time, but alas. 
Soap sauntered in, wide grin in place. “Evenin’, bonnie,” he greeted cheerfully. 
“Hi Soap.” Rose smiled, leaning on the counter. “Don’t tell me you’re here for more cookies.”
“Nah, already nabbed the rest of the box.” He winked, enjoying her little giggle. “Grabbin’ coffees for us. Gaz and I are going out.”
“Ah, I see. Enjoying the city nightlife?” 
“You know it.” He winked, flirtatious and over the top. “If you wanted to come, we’d love the company.” 
Rose chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re very sweet, but it’s not my thing.” Too many people. Too many stares. She always felt like someone was judging her when she went out. 
“Got it.” Soap didn’t push for anything more, his smile gone soft. “You got any plans?” 
Which brought the ache in her chest back, through no fault of his. Rose smiled through it, willing it back down. “No. No plans. Figured I’d find a movie to watch, maybe make some headway on the hat I’m knitting.”
“You knit?” Soap leaned forward as if that was the most interesting thing he’d heard all day.
Rose blushed but nodded. Usually people just smiled and nodded when they found out. “Um, yeah. Learned in high school and haven’t really stopped since. It’s fun.” 
“When you finish the hat, you should bring it in and show it off. I’d love to see.” 
“If I finish it in time, I will.” Rose smiled, willing her blush to go away. “So, what can I get you?”
“Two mochas with an extra shot in each.” 
Rose nodded and turned to start on the drinks. Mochas were easy, at least. The motions were all routine by now. 
“No Carmen today?” 
The question made Rose grimace, just a little, and she was grateful she was facing away from him. “No, she’s out sick today.” 
“You need any help?” 
“Oh, I’m fine.” Rose smiled over her shoulder. “Only got an hour left, anyway.”
Soap made a little noise of assent, although it sounded like he didn’t quite believe her. 
“Two mochas with an extra shot.” Rose set the cups down carefully in front of him. “I hope you two have fun tonight.” 
“We will, hen.” Soap picked them up and winked at her. “Enjoy your knitting! Don’t forget I wanna see it.”
Rose chuckled and waved him off, watching him go. She waited until he was in the elevator to slump a little. 
Alright, she’d been right: having all these sexy men around was trouble. They were a daily reminder of her own singleness. She wrinkled her nose. Not that it was their fault. But she was lonely and had been for a while, and they were nice. More fun than the other people in the building, more likely to chat and joke with her. 
But she enjoyed the interaction too much to give it up. She’d just have to make sure none of them ever got the faintest whiff of her interest. 
Closing was easy but slow - Rose just couldn’t muster the energy to do it with her normal speed, not today. She locked up and stowed her keys in her purse, yawning briefly. 
“Heading home?”
Rose jumped several inches, though she didn’t make a noise. She whirled, too fast, and nearly fell.
Alejandro caught her, one hand under her elbow, looking apologetic. “Ah, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Rose blew out a breath, trying to smile and shaking her head. “It’s okay. I didn’t hear you come up, is all.” 
He frowned a little, giving her a quick once over, but thankfully he let it pass. “You are done for the day?” 
“Yeah. You?” Rose took a half-step back, and his hand fell away from her skin. She’d wanted to lean into that touch too much. That way lay danger. 
“Mm. Food first, then home.” He smiled a little. “Do you have far to walk?”
“Not too far, no. Fortunately.” Rose lifted one hand to cover her mouth when she yawned again. “I should get going, though. Have a good weekend, Alejandro.”
“You too.” Alejandro held the building door open for her, and Rose nodded to him before she turned and headed home. 
She did, at least, remember to stop by the corner store and pick up ice cream before she walked up to her apartment. The building wasn’t bad, not too old but not so new it was expensive as all get-out. The higher floors had bigger apartments, but hers was… kind of tiny. 
The open floor plan didn’t bother her - her bed had been pushed back into the far corner, a curtain set up to help block out the rest of the room and any residual light. The kitchen area was spotless, her plants nestled in the window in front of the sink. The rest of the space was taken up by the couch, coffee table, and end table that doubled as a TV stand. 
It wasn’t much, but it was hers, and she didn’t have to share. 
“Home again, home again,” she muttered to herself, kicking off her shoes and hanging up her purse and jacket on the hooks by the door. The ice cream went straight into the freezer for now while she debated if she would be a semi-responsible adult and have real food first. 
Responsibility won out. Turning on the TV for background noise, Rose made pasta. 
And if she kept thinking about the handsome work-neighbors, well… She’d take it easy on herself, after the day she’d had. 
A quick look at her phone showed no further messages from her two friends beyond the “Have to cancel tonight, sorry!” Trying to quell the frustration and bitterness, Rose stuffed her phone away again.
Time for some knitting therapy and sci-fi. 
Her alarm went off far too early, and Rose groaned into her pillow. Barely awake and she wanted to cry. Not a good look for the weekend. 
But she got up. She dressed. She made it down to the coffee shop in time to open. And she smiled. All day. 
Because there was no alternative. It had to be done, so she’d do it. 
It had been a while since she’d had to work weekends, and she was remembering why she tried so hard to avoid it. 
Monday barely felt any different, except that she saw her regulars in the morning. Jerry got his usual, Kathleen switched things up, Conner actually made it in before 9. The ebb and flow was almost soothing by now, helping her to fall back into the rhythm of the week. 
Until Gaz. 
“Mornin’,” he chirped, looking bright and refreshed. Rose felt grungy in comparison (even though she’d showered last night). 
“Morning, Gaz. What can I get you?” She smiled, trying to keep herself on the polite end of warm. 
“Just tea.” He wandered up to the counter, laptop in hand.
“You planning to hang out?” Rose asked, glancing meaningfully at the laptop before she got down the tea. 
“Mmhm.”
“Go ahead and pick a table, I’ll bring your tea over in a moment.”
“Thanks, love. You’re too sweet.” 
Rose didn’t turn to look at him, focusing on her work. It didn’t matter that he’d called her love. He didn’t mean it. It was just a cute thing he did. 
But damn if it wasn’t getting to her. She needed more sleep. And a night with friends. And maybe a glass of wine. 
Rose took a deep breath. Then another. The rising scent of earl grey was soothing, and she left the tea down to make herself a cup. 
“Here you are.” She lifted the portion of the counter to walk over to his table, setting the tea and the sugar next to him. 
“Thank you.” Gaz smiled and caught her hand gently. “You alright?”
“Didn’t sleep well.” Rose shrugged in a “what can you do?” kind of way. “It’s fine. Let me know when you’re ready for a refill, I’ll be here all day.”
He chuckled quietly at her little joke and released her. Rose tried not to think of how warm his hand had been, how nice even that little bit of contact felt. 
She failed. But she did make tea. 
“Soap mentioned you knit?”
Rose blinked a couple times, having completely zoned out behind the counter, and looked over at Gaz. “He… did?” 
“Mmhm.” His smile was small but warm. “Made me curious, too.”
Rose snorted. “It’s hardly rocket science,” she said, waving one hand. “It’s not that interesting.”
“Love, we don’t have skills in that kind of area.” He looked almost… remorseful? A little bitter? Something. “None of us are all that great at making things. Except cooking.”
“It’s really not hard.” Rose shrugged, though she was watching him now, noting the interest in his eyes, the way he was trying to turn the conversation away from himself. Again. “But if you’re really curious, I’ll bring some knitting in tomorrow.”
His smile was bright and cheerful and all the convincing Rose really needed.
173 notes · View notes
indieninja92 · 1 year ago
Note
Hello again! This is the anon that was asking about all-caps. Buckle in because it is a TALE. (One that ended up being about 800 words. You have been warned)
So. It’s four years ago. I just picked up Good Omens in a bookstore, since the authors sounded vaguely familiar and I needed something to read. I binge it in about two to three days.
YOINK we’re fast forwarding and it is now TWENTY-TWENTY-THREE and FATHERS DAY oh boy this sure is gonna be interesting (said while putting on a very stylish hazmat suit) WAIT! Lo! Behold! Lo and behold! On thee website of Tumblr, what doth mine eyes see, reblogged by one of the people I follow? A message! (Spoiler: it’s the father’s day post you did over at monstrous agonies/monstrous productions) And now! I am having ~feelings~ NEW BLOG TO CHECK OUT WAHOOOOOOOO
“Ah, this blog seems themed,” I contemplate, looking upon the tastefully spooky art that’s been reblogged. “Oh, a new episode? This is most mysterious. OHHHHH it’s a PODCAST BLOG okay yeah that makes a lot more sense now” (puts down the salt and garlic) “whoop-de-doo time to listen to this cool little podcast! Yippee!” SIKE it’s FEELINGS time BUCKAROO (still not over “there is no amount of normal you can become that will wash the river from your skin. You're soaked the bone, my dear.” By the way) Oh no it’s almost over! Oh yay I’m not all the way through yet so there’s still more to listen to! (Insert fiber crafting while listening to Monstrous Agonies montage here)
(In the opposite corner of the circle I lurk in on Tumblr) wow, those sure are some really pretty gifs! It’s from the TV adaptation of that book I read? That’s nice, good for them :) oh wait there are. More. Pretty gifs. That’s intriguing. (This continues on and on and on until okay, fine, guess I’m watching the gay demon/angel show. If I must.)
DAVID TENNANT AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH
*rereads books. It’s really quite good*
Oh wow I guess I’m in a new fandom now :)
(back in MA land) Aww, I just finished the last episode :( LOOKS LIKE IT’S Q&A TIME :DDDDDDD oh hey, Hero posted something on the Tumblr blog! It’s a reblogged poll about if vampire!prev would kill you or not? And it mentions the creator of Monstrous Agonies? I was wondering if they had a main account! (A moderate amount of clicking through links later) “Queer, quaker, chronic daydreamer” that’s nice, good for them :)
Now. This, my dear reader, is where it gets interesting. You see, I’d started following Good Omens blogs, or at least, blogs that posted a good deal about Good Omens. One of them (fellshish) frequently and enthusiastically shares fic recommendations (they are also an avid reblogger of fanart. In some ways, their blog functions like a community space. It’s quite lovely.) Furthermore, their fic suggestions are typically of a very high quality, and I greatly enjoyed one of their previous recommendations (Slow Show by Mia_Ugly on ao3), so when they. Continuously. Posted about the glory of The Good Omens Grindr Fic (tm), I, of course, had to check it out.
At this point, the question may be raised of who the author of The Good Omens Grindr Fic (tm) is. This would be a very reasonable inquiry. It would not, however, be an inquiry made by me, for once I started reading I was ENRAPTURED. Enthralled. En-another thing that’s really really intense (I’m running out of appropriately accurate adjectives). The only breaks I took from reading it were to bounce around my room and do flappy hands because the banter oh my god the banter “angelic tummy” aaaaaaaaaaa (or sometimes the smut oh my god the smut holy SHIT guess I have a new thing now. I can’t even be mad about it because it’s so good).
Alas, I do need to occasionally sleep, and so one night I knew that I really didn’t have time for another chapter, but wanted to see what the author was up to. So I licked on the “come hang out on Tumblr! :)” link. Wait. Wait. Hold up. I recognize this. “Queer, quaker, chronic daydreamer.” WAIT. WAIT A GOSH DARN DING-DANG DAGNABBIT MINUTE. YOU. YOU. YOU ARE TELLING ME THAT ONE OF MY FAVORITE FICS OF ALL TIME. IS WRITTEN BY. NONE OTHER THAN THE CREATOR OF MY FAVORITE PODCAST WHO IS ALSO THE INTERNET DAD???????? ON TUMBLR DOT COM??????????? (Q&A flashbacks, paraphrased) “What Hero doesn’t want to say is that they’re a very good writer” MY GOOD FRIEND SOHPIE B. THAT IS PUTTING IT LIGHTLY. HELLO????????????????
So that’s the story of how I found out that author of one of my favorite fics is the same person as the creator of my favorite podcast and the internet dad. I am thoroughly delighted and not at all normal about this :))))))))) so, thank you!!! You’re very very cool and a marvelous writer :D
(p.s. I'm so excited for Travelling Light!!!!!!!)
asdkjfhslkdjf this is such a wild ride haha my favourite part is you looking in the author notes to follow the link to get to my tumblr... despite me having the same name here and ao3 😅
anyway, thank you for sharing your excitement, its very sweet! i dont usually make much fanfare on the podcast side of things about my fic writing - not that its a secret or anything, but i feel like if you come to me for cosy affirming monster agony aunt stuff then you might not be in the market for explicit gay pornography 😂 but theres definitely some overlap between the two audiences and im glad you're enjoying being in both camps!
4 notes · View notes
dashawfrostart · 13 days ago
Text
This Week In "Time & Again" #28: The Work, And The Characters! and Further Ruminations on Lothar And Myself
Howdy peeps 👋
I started writing this blog post exactly a week after the previous one has been published. But as per usual, somewhere along the way I got so carried away by the work itself that, of course, I simply didn't publish this new post on time. In fact, as I am writing these very lines right now, I don't even feel like writing. Instead, I just wanna keep working on the lineart for Chapter 6. It's so exciting! 🔥🔥🔥 I'M ON FIRE, MAN! 🔥🔥🔥 But alas, being a responsible adult, I must stop for a moment and blog a bit. That's what all the responsible adults do: they know when to take a break from the most fun activities in order to do important things ☝. Doesn't mean that the latter cannot be fun... But in my case, writing this blog post is not nearly as fun as working on Chapter 6. So what I was trying to say all along is the following: Imma finish writing this dog-damned blog post asap and get back to work! 😠 Schnell, schnell!
Therefore let's get straight to the point! There's actually 2 points:
I have finally completed an artwork featuring Beatnik that I started to work on a month or two ago (unfortunately, somehow Windows decided to trick me and changed the creation date info... 🤔 so now I cannot remember when exactly I started to work on it originally), and I will make it public shortly;
I did quite a bit of work on Chapter 6 for the lineart, wheeeeee-heeeeee!!! (and, as indicated above, I had a lot of fun!!!)
About the point number one: I've been thinking about finishing up that artwork long ago. Now, since the beginning of Chapter 6 is very Beatnik-saturated, I got to complete that piece. Finally. I'm very proud of myself. At this point of time, I've completed the lineart for all the pages in the chapter that will directly feature Beatnik (meaning the ones that will feature him visually, not just the "blind" voice lines over Lothario's walkie-talkie). So the work on Beatnik for the chapter is done 100%. I must admit, I really like Beatnik. He's a nice and... quirky character with a rather complicated backstory. I'm gonna miss him!.. for now. Until the Colouring Stage is on, because then I'll see him again 🙃. ... I still keep listening to a lot of vaporwave though. In fact, way too much, perhaps. I cannot tell why vaporwave makes me so happy. The obvious reason to guess would be the feeling of nostalgia - but I'm pretty sure in my case that's not right. The distorted and chopped vocals and odd, slowed down sounds are somehow comforting to me. Weird?.. Weird!!! My favourite vaporwave pieces and artists so far are Floral Shoppe, Chuck Person's Eccojams Vol.1 and the most stuff by 猫 シ Corp. Some of this stuff I just listen over and over again. Coming from a person who sometimes listens to Skinny Puppy on repeat while working on her graphic narrative, deeply enjoys those horrors and finds them oddly homey and endearing, that's probably an expected sentiment. Coming from a person who loves Unloved, Unhinged, and Golden Light, that is probably not surprising at all. I'm no stranger to surrealistically disturbing artistic experiences, which I find fascinatingly entertaining in a gloomy, eerie way.
But I digress; let's get back to the main topic.
I think I enjoy drawing Beatnik much more than I enjoy drawing Lothar right now.
Even Lothar's shirtlessness doesn't help in this situation. What a weird surprise, indeed 😱 (because usually drawing shirtless people takes significantly less time than drawing fully clothed ones, and therefore it's more satisfying and fun - but apparently, not right now).
I already briefly mentioned in one of the older posts that lately I have concerns about the lack of endearment I experience towards Lothar - who is, supposedly, the main character of "Time & Again". Perhaps - and quite possibly - that is as simple as the feel of the chapter captivated me very well that it makes me estranged towards him... Because that's basically what Lothar himself does, too: he doesn't feel that he belongs and intentionally distances himself from virtually everyone (Beatnik inclusive... which is sad, because I think those two would've been absolutely hilarious, were they brotatoes... but maybe someday somebody will write a fanfic about them, preferably not BL tho, because that's waaaay outside the canon, lol). Remember my method of writing and my understanding of how to create a good piece of art? Deep diving. That's what I'm talking about.
However, regarding Lothar and his disgusting tendencies, there's one more point I cannot avoid mentioning; something that hit me hard immediately as I started to work on Chapter 6, and I cannot unsee it about him. Lothar is uncomfortably scary. He's frightening. Right from the start of the chapter, he's nothing but a lump of anger and hatred. Pathetic or not, right from the first pages of Chapter 6 he already had a few moments. Blegh, Lothar. Just put yourself together already, stop being a huffy-puffy porcupine (although I must admit porcupines are much cuter than Lothar in general, and they certainly make much cuter sounds, too).
Anyways... I've started a thread on Krita forum that has a small *so far* collection of WIP screenshots of Chapter 6. It can be viewed 👉HERE👈. Check back often, for I'll be updating it regularly from now on, asynchronously from posting new stuff here.
And that's gonna be a very long thread [that I will promise to try very very very hard to keep updating, please please pleeeeease believe me, I'm trying, ok?! if anything happens, please give me a kick😖]. Obviously, so far it only has black and white lineart, for I work in stages (as previously indicated in this post and in this post, and in the numerous other posts all over my blog). For a right-off-the-bat treat/teaser, I'll post a couple screenshots below:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Now, as for how the process itself is going... I'll refer to that very same older post yet again that talks about my idea to skip the sketching phase entirely (or almost). And you know what? It's going darn well so far. I hope I'll be able to keep it up, and if not - then I simply must git gud. Right?! I think that is right!!! Drawing without a sketch doesn't sound like a bad idea at all. I think I simply don't have a luxury of time to sketch first and then inking on top of the sketches anymore; mind you, I don't even think I want to sketch first anyway. It's also a good practice and one to get rid of unnecessary perfectionism. And perfectionism, in my experience, is almost always unnecessary. So, in short: hooray for terrible art!!! Brace yourselves! 🤣🤣🤣 Ok, ok, I already said that that's not gonna happen in my situation, and I'm quite certain of that 🙃
But again, I quickly sketch the backgrounds and I definitely make sketches when a panel has complex structure to it or the characters are interacting.
It might sound a bit abrupt, but that's enough for today. I'll continue my narrative full of thoughts in the next posts, and now it's time to wrap it up. See y'all soon! 👋
0 notes
chemicalpink · 3 years ago
Text
BTS Group Tarot Reading + a long ass author's note
Author's Note: HELLO This is definitely not how I wanted to come back online but alas, I think we could all use a little reassurance/direction given the recently public news, and while I MUST remind you that Tarot picks up a lot of energy on the situation as a whole, and thus is only one aspect out of every sphere that makes us humans, I feel a strong need to share it with you guys and I hope you all enjoy. As for me, I promise I am slowly but surely coming back, it has been a couple of rough weeks, I am filled to the brim with work I am still waiting to get paid for but at least I'm healthier now, I've been taking this time to go slow, pace myself, set my priorities straight and heal my spirit so I can continue to deliver quality over quantity in terms of my spiritual work. So here's the first one after that long time taken to better tune into the general energy. As usual, if there's anything you'd like to know more of, drop it in my ask and I'll get to it in due time! I'm sending all of you lots of love and strength.
ALRIGHT LET'S SEE WHAT THE TANNIES ARE UP TO REGARDING THEIR 9TH YEAR ANNIVERSARY AND FESTA REVELATIONS.
When my men said new chapter they QUITE LITERALLY MEANT IT oh boi- we are taking the big guns out first thing. With Capricorn Mercury in the 12th House, we are definitely seeing a whole transformation, akin to reincarnation, it is not quite being born again as artists but rather starting fresh without forgetting the past life knowledge, lessons and hardships, it's been given a second chance at what they do, what they love, without it feeling as restrictive as before, with their minds and hearts in it, yet breaking free from the things that have been holding them back.
And you know how clear these messages get with the tannies, it's all about new beginnings, these past nine years they have planted a seed in the world, they've cherished it, protected it against every odd, and it had finally bloomed, they are all secure and stable, like they never thought they would be, so it is time for them to sit back and watch it grow even stronger and more beautiful (ace of pentacles) These seven men have learnt to get what they desire, they're on top of their game, they have enough mental clarity to plan the next move, they are transforming, evolving, guided by the millions of people around the world that support them, it isn't a change coming from rapid confusion of sweeping change as much as it is about metamorphing into an even better version of themselves now (King of Swords) It has come to a time where even the efforts to take care of themselves have become a daily chore, there hasn't been much room for self reflection the way they need it, after they have had to overcome these past few years, taking a step back to take impulse this time isn't just about resting but about questioning their greater purpose in life, they have achieved so much in such a short amount of time, all different versions of themselves so it is now time to stand back, look at it objectively and search within their souls, what is the next step they are taking together with BTS? (The Hermit rx) It is indeed going to be trying times, as every healing process is, this time is full of opportunities and choices to pick from individually, something they haven't been able to truly do so in a long time, this time it isn't as much about team first, individual second, but about the synergy that looking for their own happiness is going to bring into the team (7 of Cups) Now evidently it all sounds dandy! They're getting some rest, they are given some time to develop themselves in their own unique way, but it is also pretty hard to break out of any long pattern that has become a sense of security, there's of course, a tint of disappointment, of "not doing things the right way the first time that they must take a specific time to do so in order not to fall apart" it wasn't really in their books for it to go this specific way but, it has been a couple of rough years for everyone, and perhaps this is the right course of action, even if it feels like failure at the time (5 of Cups) We will probably get to see an array of diversity in the tannies that we haven't really thought about before, academics, business, travel, some things quite new for them and for us to witness, but it is safe to say they are embarking in this trip with a renewed sense of conviction, it is freedom. It is hard work and success paying off (3 of Wands) They are moving onto the unknown parts of their work, things that hadn't been able to do before, that had seemed so foreign, things that they had felt like they had to give up in order to succeed they way that they have now, renewing their take on their job so that it doesn't feel like some parts of it are dragging them down but rather to find the excitement of it all, all over again (Empress rx)
The oracle is pretty set on it too, what with having to reconcile with their inner selves, rebuilding their support networks outside of the band, reconnecting with the people that they have lost along the way to the top, relearning that it is okay to share their burdens with other people and free themselves in order to take back control of their lives.
As extra information that we have been given, it is as much a time to be free as it is about forgiving themselves for the past, learning not to lose touch with their present because of it but greeting it like a long lost friend that will continue to be there even if you can't walk by their side anymore (6 of Cups rx) It is going to be a trying road, and it won't go on without a fight, they will struggle along the way but they will come out of it even more successful, happier than ever, freer than ever (The Sun) the BTS that will come back after this is going to be one even more bulletproof, one in full control of their surroundings and themselves, one that will come out victorious out of any situation they decide to put themselves in, because they're learning to co-exist as people and a band, as individuals and a family (the Chariot)
Decks Used: Prisma Visions Tarot, Astro Dice, Romance Angels Oracle, Sexual Magic Tarot.
78 notes · View notes
mmvalentine · 3 years ago
Text
Spaghetti (extended edition) pt 2 | Feysand
Single dad AU, domestic fluff and smut. Read part 1 part 3 part 4.
Of course Feyre hadn't left, despite the diaster that was dinner, and now the boys are in bed and they're on the couch with glasses of wine and exhaustion. Then again, Rhys always feels exhausted, these days.
"You need it, after tonight," Rhys had said as he poured the wine.
"They're delightful," Feyre told him, eyes twinkling at the mention of the twins.
"They're terrors," Rhys corrected.
That was three glasses ago. They've kicked off their shoes, and she's got her feet curled under her on the couch. Feyre's hair is coming out of its braid and she's leaning toward him as she laughs. She has such a gorgeous laugh- Rhys can't remember what he even said to her now. He can't remember the last time he got drunk.
"So," Feyre asks, and maybe she's a little drunk too, because it's only now that she asks the big question. She asks it quietly, softly with her head cocked to one side and gentleness in her eyes. "Is... there a mother in the picture?"
Rhys looks down at his wine glass, and wishes it were a little fuller. Alas, the bottle is empty between them.
"No," he says slowly. "She died." He turns the stem of the glass in his fingers. "With their father, in fact."
Feyre waits, doesn't raise her eyebrows or ask questions. Just watches him. Rhys takes a deep breath.
"Cass and Az are my nephews. Their parents were in a car crash when they had just turned one. They know there was another dad, a different dad before me, but they're still so young it's hard to tell how much they understand or remember." Rhys looks at her. "I don't really tell a lot of people though."
In fact, he doesn't tell anyone this. The boys are legally adopted, they already had the same last name, and it's just easier this way. In the beginning, when Rhys first got them, people would either react with pity, or give him hero-praise. He couldn't say which made him more uncomfortable.
"I think... when everything happened, it just really hit me that suddenly, I was all they had in the world. My sister was gone, she was married to my best friend and he was gone too. We don't have any other family. So I guess they were all I had, too."
Feyre says, "That must be very lonely."
And Rhys doesn't know how to tell her she's right. Over the years, he dove into being a father, which meant he lost contact with many of his friends. The only significant women in his life now are Mor and Emerie, a couple from parenting group. Feyre is the first adult company he's had in... too long.
Before he knows what he's doing, Rhys leans forward and kisses her on the mouth. He's never this impulsive, and it surprises even him. He draws back quickly, looking more shocked that she does, and starts to apologise.
"I am so sorry, I shouldn't have-"
But Feyre grabs a hold of his shirt as he moves away. She pauses, inches from his face, while the words die in Rhys's mouth. And then she presses her lips back to his, and it's so slow, languid, wine-drenched kiss she gives him.
Rhys leans into her, and his hands find her jaw. He thinks for a second that he really needs to slow down- but Feyre has other ideas. The tip of her tongue touches his lower lip, and he's a dead man.
Rhys pushes her back against the couch, sure that he is moving too fast but completley unable to stop it. A hunger opens up in his chest, and it's a cavernous need that drives him to get her lying back, head on the armrest while his hand strokes her ribs and his tongue touches her teeth. His thumb finds the underside of a breast and again his mind says slow down, slow down.
He doesn't know how.
There's a part of him that begs Feyre to take control, to pull away or indicate somehow that this isn't what she wants. That will force him to put the brakes on before he fucks it all up. He's so relieved when she doesn't.
Quite the opposite- Feyre's hands slide into his hair and her nails send shivers down his spine when they scrape against his neck. The tip of her foot is sliding up his ankle, and every kiss he gives her she exhales back to him in lush, hot slides. He's so hard against her, there's too much fabric between them, and when he flexes his hips against her she bumps up to meet him.
Rhys couldn't tell you later on how they got to his bedroom, but when he rolls Feyre on top of his body, his back hits his own mattress instead of falling on the lounge room floor. His hands slide under her sweater and stroke the petal-smooth skin of her back, and his fingers skitter on her spine when she goes for the buttons of his shirt.
"Wait," Rhys mumbles, when Feyre's mouth is on his bare chest. She looks up at him, and gods she looks cute from here. Her lips and her chin are a little red from where his stubble has scratched her, and her hair is falling in her eyes again.
"Is... is this okay?" she asks him, suddenly uncertain. Rhys barks a laugh.
"Better than okay," he says, and kisses her palm. "I just..."
He sucks a breath in through his teeth, and runs his hands over the blue jeans that were once so appealing and now suddenly must go. He tangles their legs together, and then flips then over so suddenly that Feyre gasps a little when her head lands on the pillow. Rhys settles his hips over hers, and lightly strokes the pink of her cheekbones. His eyes watch her lips when he speaks. "I want to take my time... with you."
Feyre reaches for him once more, but Rhys folds her fingers in his and stops her hands by her head instead. He wants her touch- is utterly coming undone beneath her touch- but more than that, he wants to touch her. First this- first the gorgeous warmth of her beneath his lips and his fingertips. He has not let himself miss this, not while the twins needed everything to be the same for good length of time. But now he drowns in her.
Rhys lets Feyre's hands go and hums his contenment when she does not move them. She simply grips the edges of the pillow while Rhys pushes the hem of her top up and sweeps his hands over her ribcage, her stomach, her hips. When his thumbs travel the bottom edge of her bra, Rhys looks to her face for confirmation. Feyre just shivers a little and arches up toward him, and Rhys watches her eyes as he unclips her bra underneath her. Feyre bites her lip as she smiles, and lifts her arms above her head. The sweater and the bra come off together.
Rhys lets out a low groan at the sight of Feyre shirtless. His tongue now traces the paths his hands made, while his hands cup the soft fullness of her breasts. Feyre lets him, not moving apart from little twitches up to his lips as he moves over her. The first moan comes when he closes his mouth over her nipple, and then it's only a few moments before she's pulling his face back to hers.
Feyre tugs Rhys's shirt the rest of the way off him, and drops it to the floor. His naked stomach now slides over hers, and he doesn't want to lose the body contact even as his hand moves down between them. Feyre's back arches as he touches her, rubs up and down her through her jeans. He shoves the zipper down, slides his fingers under her waistband and hisses at how wet she is. Rhys's tongue moves under her ear, in time with his fingers between her legs.
"You are so gorgeous," he mumbles onto her skin. "You're...mmm you feel just perfect."
Feyre's first orgasm is breathy and whimpering, and her eyes fly open with the shock of how fast it comes. Rhys only smirks and keeps his pace steady. He watches it build and crest in her, and she's trying to touch him back by Rhys won't let her. He waits till she's coming down, then drags her jeans the rest off the way off. When he kisses her now, she's soft and pliant beneath his hands. He strokes his fingers softly down the centre of her underwear, knowing she'll be over-sensitised for a moment.
After a second, Feyre opens her eyes and smiles gently at him. "My turn," she whispers, and goes for the button of his own jeans.
"Not yet," Rhys tells her, and presses kisses into the hollow of her neck until she's trying to move on his fingers, seeking more friction with her hips. He watches her writhe for a while, loving how much she wants it, before moves her panties to the side and hovers his fingers over her entrance. "You want this?" he asks her.
"Yes," she breathes. "Yes, yes, all of it, please..."
It's the 'please' that gets him. "Where did you come from," Rhys groans softly, as he slides his fingers inside her. Feyre doesn't answer, just moves her mouth silently, head tilted back and eyes closed as he works her.
Rhys kisses the exposed arch of her throat, the line of her collarbone, and down her sternum. His teeth scrape at her navel, her hip bones, the soft inside of her thigh. He licks over her clit and she cries out so sweetly he does it again. Again.
Again.
The second orgasm is shuddering and sweet, and Rhys nearly laughs at how easy it is. He's forgotten how it feels to bring someone over the edge like this, and he's not willing to give up control just yet. Not when she looks so good coming on his fingers and when being able to turn someone on like this is doing no small thing for his ego.
So Rhys rides the high, speeds his fingers on that rough patch inside her that makes eyes roll when he rubs it and it's only as Feyre's second climax blends into her third does the ache in his cock become so insisitent that he lets her grab him through his jeans.
Feyre's eyes open on his as she catches her breath, and Rhys leans his forehead on her chest. His eyes squeeze shut and her hand between them feels divine- it's with great reluctance that he rolls off of her and lies on his side next to her.
"Where are you going?" Feyre asks him, turning toward him.
"Slight hitch here," Rhys says with a rueful grin. "I didn't exactly plan this." Feyre raises an eyebrow, unsure where this is going. "I don't have any condoms," Rhys clarifies. "You've been the first one here in... a while."
"Oh," Feyre says. She bites her lip, and it's so cute Rhys immediately leans in and kisses her. "I can still take a turn," Feyre says softly.
"You want to do something for me?" Rhys says. Feyre nods. He slides a hand up her back and studies the freckles across her nose.
"Stay the night?" he asks quietly.
"Okay," Feyre whispers.
She looks at him a moment longer, then sighs before rolling over and leaning her back against him. Rhys folds his arms around her, and strokes his hands over her belly and her hip and her flank until he falls asleep with the smell of her hair in his nose.
...and wakes with Feyre's mouth around his cock.
Rhys groans in his throat and is pulled from sleep into pleasure in the early hours of the morning. Pale dawn light is only just slipping in through the plantation shutters and Feyre's tongue over the head of him makes stars burst behind his eyelids.
He reaches out blindly and his fingers slide in the tumbling curls of Feyre's hair. Rhys's other arm folds behind his head and his heels push against the sheets. He cannot say how long this goes on for but it doesn't take long before his hips are stuttering beneath her hands.
"I'm so close," he breathes, but Feyre only sucks him harder. He watches himself disappear behind her lips and he's the fucking luckiest man on the planet. "I'm gonna come..." Rhys mumbles, and Feyre scratches her nails against his stomach and keeps moving her damn mouth.
When his climax hits him it pulls his back off the bed and the world goes fuzzy as he's spilling between Feyre's lips. He groans low and long and the sound is distant in his own ears.
"Fuuuck," he exhales, and Feyre just smothers a laugh as she wipes the corners of her mouth. She sildes up his chest even as his heart is calming down and kisses him with her teeth on his lower lip.
"You're incredible," Rhys tells her, and she just bites his chin lightly and then goes back to sleep in his arms.
They get another hour of sleep before the twins break in.
It's not unusual for a Saturday morning, and there's no lock on the door. They take one look at Feyre, just now stirring, and scream.
"Feyre's here, Feyre's here," the chant, running around and around the room. Rhys has to admit for the last hour or so, he had completely forgotten he had two children.
"Out, out, out!" he tells them, but they don't listen. They never do.
They climb straight up onto the bed, the opposite of what Rhys said, and jump on the covers only narrowly missing shin bones and other, more sensitive body parts. Rhys groans, and Feyre giggles as she tries to push her hair back and hold the sheets up to her chin. Finally, he sits up and roars "THERE'S PANCAKES DOWNSTAIRS" and the twins freeze, look at each other, and bolt for the door.
Rhys falls back against the pillows as little feet thunder down the stairs, and it's only out of one eye that he risks taking a peek at poor Feyre. It's the first time he's looking ast her properly at her since last night.
She rolls over and gives him a look that nearly has him reaching for her. Her hair is early-morning mussed, her cheeks are flushed and there's a glimmer in her eyes that trips up his heart.
Rhys leans across, and kisses her sleep-swollen lips as if he could press his apology there. This woman who is in his arms and in his bed. He looks her in the eye and says, "We have approximately thirty seconds before they realise they've been tricked."
Feyre flashes him a grin that makes him regret his words instantly, but he knows it's more than necessary as they tug on clothes haphazardly, and indeed Feyre has just straightened her sweater before the boys are back and all over her like a rash.
****
MASTERLIST
TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @achernarlight @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @hopefulacademia @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems @dealfea @s-tormwitch @cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl @whoever-you-choose-to-love @endlessdaydream @themoonthestarsthesuriel @rarephloxes
67 notes · View notes
dreamrecorder · 4 years ago
Text
Three - Family in the Inn
Zhongli witnesses the love Xiao deserves.
Two
A bit heavy at the end- i teared up at some point ksks ill add the cut thingy when get my laptop
Starting from the earliest memory your mind can remember, you've already heard stories of the god that ruled over your home land. From your mother, your father, from the merchants and adventurers resting within the inn. You often heard how the Geo Archon would always fly above the lands, overseeing the safety of Liyue- in the form of a great and majestic serpentine dragon. To protect the land, the Archon will not hesitate to strike down his foes with his spears made of stone! Spears that were huge as mountains and can shake the very core of the earth! A fierce god he is, but to his people, the Archon is just and kind. For he has guided Liyue for a thousand years even before Liyue was founded.
Those stories always left you in awe, your mind conjuring up imaginations of a mighty dragon soaring up high in the sky!
~
"Bai, I can't sleep…" You whined loudly to your black cat with gold eyes and a white diamond spot on its forehead. But alas, the cat can't understand you, simply giving you a somewhat dismissive meow. You puted at its direction. It was always like this if your brother wasn't able to tuck you to bed. Without his voice lulling you to sleep, right now you're vibrating energy.
"I wanna play…" You mumbled but then an idea popped up. With some effort, you hopped off your bed and went to the door. A bit of a struggle because of your height, but you manage to reach the doorknob and get out of your bedroom to the lobby. Bai was following close by.
With quiet footsteps, you went to the balcony and called in a whisper of excited glee-
"Thousand Winds?"
Just by those two words alone, the breeze picked up and your ears were then filled by the joyful voices of the wind. To emphasize that happiness, you were carefully lifted up from the ground and twirled you a bit, leaving you in a fit of giggles.
When the wind calmed down, they asked, The Little Wind calls! What is it do you want little kin?
"I wanna play!"
And play they did without a care for the world. Usually these wind spirits were careful when their brother Demon Wind is around- but with him gone for now, these spirits have different ideas. Little Wind do you want to fly like us?
You didn't even miss a second to say yes. After all, you've always dreamed of flying! Just like the stories you heard about your Archon flying up high in the sky!
!!!
"If I can fly, I might get to see Rex Lapis! Please please pleaaaase Thousand Winds, I wanna fly!"
The wind spirits cheered in delight, their whispers growing louder by the second. The breeze grew stronger and stronger around you and soon enough you were lifted off the ground as anemogranas surrounded you. You'll get to fly! How exciting!
At that age, you were unaware of the dangers that lie ahead- all too buried in that naivety and innocence that children possess. 
Rather than flying- it was more like gliding. Of course the wind spirits had some sense not to put you in harm's way! Flying requires some force to make you go higher- as for gliding, a gentle breeze simply does the trick.
It was a slow descent and you were amazed all throughout! You could see the entire Dihua Marsh along the ruins that littered around! You were amazed how the stars and the moon seemed brighter and closer now that you're up in the sky! The feeling of the rushing wind on your skin! It was cold but you didn't care! 
Every now and then, the spirits would suddenly nudge you up higher, rewarding them with your joyous scream and laughter. 
You landed softly at the concrete ground, near a statue. Curious, you noted that the statue was of a man sitting on a throne. This was the first time you've seen this statue but you could feel something from it. Geo? And the statue's hooded eyes, you felt like you were being watched through them.
This, Little Wind, is the statue of the Geo Archon.
The wind whispered with respect but you- you were puzzled.
"I thought the Geo Archon is a dragon? Can he turn into a human, like me?"
You could hear the wind laugh gently, the breeze ruffling your hair. Suddenly, the wind sounded older, wiser. A story for another time, little one. It's about time you went back home.
Again you whined, but the spirits promised you flight and that's all what you needed to be convinced. The spirits and the anemogranas alike were about to lift you- but a voice stopped your tracks.
"Yo kid! You seem lost!" The voice was heavy and gruff.
You turned around to the voice's direction and you were greeted by a burly man who wore a staw hat and some kind of black cloth wrapped around his neck.
"I'm not lost, sir." You replied politely, slowly taking a step back. You noticed how the air stilled. Tense. But of course, the man is not convinced. Seeing how he kept walking to you, you were starting to become scared, but you remembered the words from your brother, Always keep calm-
"Are ya sure, kid? We're kinda in the middle of nowhere. No houses and all that. How 'bout I help you get home?" The man offered cheerily. The forced kind with another sure step towards you. But that was what doomed him, the winds were quick to blow him away and you were surprised!
It wasn't a big distance, and the man was quick to recover. Instead of a cheery smile on his face, it was of anger and that was when you became really scared. "You!" He barked as he walked to you again with equally angry steps. "You're coming with me brat!"
If you find yourself in danger- don't hesitate to call my na-
"That's enough." A man's voice spoke- clear and commanding. The man stood next to you as he landed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. It was brief moment, but he also made sure to give you a quick gentle smile your way. You… you trusted this man with amber eyes.
"Who the hell are you?! I've got no business with you!"
"And you also have no business with this child for I am her guardian." The man replied smoothly as he simply stood his ground with you, despite the other now seemingly ready for a fight. Feeling the anger, you tightly clung onto the newcomer's coat and hid behind him. On his back, you were met by a Geo Vision.
"Like I'd believe you! Just swooping in and play hero huh rich guy!"
The Geo user sighed, and the next thing you knew, the man summoned a spear out of thin air! "I have no intentions of fighting you. But I promise you- You will suffer the wrath of the rock should you choose to continue this behavior."
His voice was light, but you noticed the silent message under his tone. The would-be kidnapper shivered at the amber gaze and decided, that it was wise to back off- Not without leaving a few curses that is. 
"He's gone now." The man spoke gently as hebturned around to look at you. Oh how his heart softened, seeing your frightened look and teary eyes.
"You're safe, I promise you. My name is Zhongli." 
Zhongli? You heard this name somehwere, but you couldn't pin point where or when… still a bit shaken up from whay happened. Remember, Little Wind. Zhongli was mentioned in passing a few times by your brother. Perhaps this is the very same Zhongli your brother speak of…
"Umm…" Your voice squeaked, "Do you.. do you know my brother?"
At that question, Zhongli confirmed that you are the rumored little sibling of Xiao. It would have been delightful to meet you on different circumstances, but he was glad nonetheless to save you from the previous situation.
"May I know the name of your brother, little miss/sir?"
"His name is Xiao." You replied and Zhongli noticed a bit of happiness in your voice.
"I do know you brother, quite the stern one, too. And he will be stern with you if he learns what happened here and you going out during the night. Does he know that you're out right now?"
With that question, you finally realized the gravity of the situation. You left during the dead of the night- without permission whatsoever! Oh no, I'm in big trouble… What if you made them worry? You were so far away from home! All these thoughts made you start tearing up again and Zhongli was quick to notice. He was about to speak up and console the little one when a gush of air stopped him. And that very same gush of air made you tear up some more and clutched on Zhongli's coat.
"Name, where have you been?" Xiao's voice was calm- but he's not the perfect brother nor human. There was something in his tone that suggested he was clearly not pleased about the situation. You could feel his gaze boring onto your back.
With a bit of coaxing from Zhongli, you faced you brother. "I-I'm s-sorry, gēgē…" Your voice cracked as tears started to blur your eyes. But your brother was not yet done.
"Name, do you have any idea how worried our mother was when she found out you were out of bed and could not find you anywhere in the inn?"
The thought of your mother searching all over you made you tears form more. "I- I do."
"Do you really?" 
It was a sharp question without even missing a bit, and that was the starting point for you and for him. Even Xiao winced at his own words, he swore he'll have to make it up to you later- but for now you had to understand. He remembered the panicked face your mother wore with tears threatening to fall. He remembered her panicked voice when she called for him. He remembered the worry he felt and the dip in his stomach when she said you were missing.
"I-I'm so sorry, gēgē. I-I was just p-playing. I d-didn't want you and mama t-to worry…" You couldn't meet his eyes.
Worry?
"Just. Playing? Name, you left home in the middle of the night- when dangers are high- just to play! Name, you could have gotten hurt! We were not just worried, Name- we were scared that something might have happened to you!" 
Every word he spoke- his voice rose higher- not being able to contain the pits of his negative thoughts. Every word- it was like a stab to his heart. But he had to be firm.
"I will ask you again, Name. Do you really understand what you did and their consequences?"
And thay was the breaking point and the night was filled by you whimpers, your wales, and your aplogies. Your shoulders began to shake and tears flowed freely and lungs struggling for breath. "I-I'm sorry, gēgē- I-I shouldn't h-have left h-home! Pleas-se d-dont stay m-mad at me… I p-promise i-it-t won't happen aga-ain- I-I'm s-sorry p-please don't h-hat-te m-me.
You kept going with your rambles and your tears. And for every whimper you released, Xiao was close to breaking too. The brother lost count many times you've repeated your mantras- but he decided- I can't do this anymore. Not with you crying breathless. He'll talk to you about this when everything's calm- his emotions and yours.
With swift steps and sure movements, Xiao pulled you into a hug and your cries grew louder. "Just don't do that ever again, okay.." He said gently but voice cracking, leaving a kiss on your forehead as you nodded readily. Once your cries have calmed down, Xiao carried you to his arms followed hy him wiping away your tears.
"Name."
"Y-yes?"
Your eyes met, and the anger was no longer there, but instead worry and love.
"I love you."
You could feel his genuinity. The words brought a smile to your face, albeit small. "I love you, too, gēgē."
Xiao smiled and left another kiss on your nose. "Sleep now. You had a long night and way past your bed time."
You didn't even protest, you were out like a light bulb as you comfortably laid you head on his shoulder and closed your eyes- not missing the golden dragon floating behind the man who saved you.
~
The walk home was silent. A teleport would be quicker, but Xiao didn't want to disturb your sleep. It was an awkward walk to say the least. Him carrying his sibling, along with the last of his tears stinging his red eyes, all while his master accompanied them home.
But Zhongli- Zhongli was amused. Amused with the blooming dynamic siblinghood between you and Xiao. But he decided to hold his tongue. He knew Xiao was still wrapping his head around what had transpired. Still he does leave a praise to reassure Xiao that everything will be fine.
"You're the best brother your little sibling could ever ask for, Xiao. Remember that."
A/N: Welp ksks lots of loose ends if you squint ksks- like example the tone of the wind spirits, the cat and such
Taglist: @hanniejji @suckerforgenshinboys @arson-frog-art @anime-read-write-repeat @kryzi @riiasekai @sweetstrawberrybabe
429 notes · View notes
decks-writing-blog · 2 years ago
Text
My Love
Happy First day of Halloween! This fic isn't super Halloweeny in nature but anything Cult of the Lamb technically counts as far as I'm concerned and that's how I was able to justify writing it after committing to only working on Halloween stuff.
~
It had started as just love for the power the Red Crown granted but somewhere along the way, Lamb found themself in love with the being who had given it to them. Maybe infatuated was a better word. Either way, at times they found themself being less careful than they should be while fighting the heretics. Dying always hurt but being able to see him again was worth it.
Whether ‘love’ or ‘infatuated’ was the right word for their feelings though, it didn’t matter much as it wasn’t likely to end well. From very near the start they knew they would not be giving the crown back when asked. They’d spent far too long being weak, powerless, and most of all afraid to ever willingly give it up. And so when the time came they’d fought and had somehow won.
Now, the object of their love sat before them, his form much diminished, and utterly at their mercy. If there’d been a way they could keep their power without having to steal it from him, they’d have taken it in an heartbeat. Alas, if such an option had existed, they hadn’t thought of it or circumstances made it not available. Thus, here they were, looking down at him as he awaited their judgment, not knowing it had never truly been a question.
They stepped forward and extended a hand, offering to help him to his feet. He glared at it for a moment but took it. “You’re sparing me.”
It was more statement than a question but Lamb nodded anyway. “Of course. I only kill those who try to kill me or ask to be sacrificed.” And dissenters got sent to heaven if they made a big enough nuisance of themselves but that hardly counted especially since Lamb almost always brought them back a few days later.
“You’re weak.”
Ignoring that, Lamb took the lead in walking back towards the commune, trusting him to follow. Thankfully he did even if it was with his arms crossed, his glare held steady on the ground. This new form of his was quite cute even if the majesty of his old form had been far grander. … Lamb still liked him though. Hopefully he would learn to return the favor.
“By the way, what is your preferred name? The Bishops told me your name was ‘Narinder’ but that was before they chained you and you presumably stopped going by that. You are no longer waiting now though so perhaps you no longer wish to go by ‘the One Who Waits’? Which would you prefer? Or perhaps you wish to go by a new name?” Upon starting the cult, in light of their new position of power and all the massive changes that came with it, Lamb had given themself the new name of ‘Lamb’ to signify they were the only one of their kind. Even if they were no longer in truth a lamb but instead a sheep, Lamb just made for a cuter name, making them easier to underestimate. So perhaps their love would also like a new name to signify the big change he’d just gone through.
He was silent for long enough that it seemed he was too grumpy to reply right now but… “I don’t know,” he finally said, his voice a near whisper with uncertainty. Clearly not an emotion he was used to feeling.
“Need some time to think about it?”
“Yes.”
Very near the entrance to the commune now, Lamb slowed to a stop, making him stop too. They turned to face him. “Until you decide, may I call you ‘my love’?”
The grumpy look on his face finally vanished as he took a step back, his eyes widening in surprise. “What? Why?”
“Because I love you. Or maybe that’s not the right word. Maybe it’s more accurate to say, I’m infatuated with you. I don’t really know the difference. It is because of you that I am now a god after all and for that I am eternally grateful. I understand if you do not feel the same way but that’s okay. I wish the best for you no matter what.”
“Not only are you pathetic, you’re also weird.”
Lamb couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I know. But you try living your whole life in hiding, afraid of getting hunted down and sacrificed. Only for that to finally happen because it was inevitable that you would be found eventually and you knew that for as long as you could remember. And then upon that awful death you instead get granted power and the ability to get vengeance on those who’d killed you and all of your family. How could I not be a bit weird after all that?”
“I suppose you have a point.”
“So, do I have permission to call you ‘my love’ or not?”
He crossed his arms again, the look of annoyance returning to his face, though perhaps not as intense as before. “Call me whatever you like.” With that he turned and started walking towards the commune again.
With a little skip, Lamb fell in step with him again. “’My love’ it is then, my love.”
He grunted but otherwise didn’t reply. That was fine though. And it would be fine, but sad, if he never grew to even like Lamb, understandable even. Lamb could hope though, right?
9 notes · View notes
tomtenadia · 3 years ago
Text
My knight in shining armour
Rowaelin month Day 2 - University AU
I literally just finished this. I wasn’t going to write for this prompt but then an idea finally hit me.
The title as usual is bad... sorry
2k words
-----
Tumblr media
Aelin had days in which she hated men. That was one of those days. 
After finishing high school she decided to took a challenging course at the University of Terrasen. Her dad, before he retired, had been an airforce pilot. She had grown up going around his base, visiting him when he was back. In doing so, she had become obsessed with planes. As she grew up, her dad had let her get friendly with his engineer and the man had started teaching her all she needed to know about aircrafts. From the basic physics to the more obscure detail of how the jet worked. Aelin had been fascinated. She had started reading all the possible books, and as she got older, her dad’s engineer had also started having her to actually help her in the hangar. In the summer when school was out, she would actually get a part-time job as an apprentice at the base and she had loved every moment of it. She had also become very close with the two female pilots and together they had spent time talking about the life of a woman in a boys club. The two women had become her role models very quickly.
Terrasen was quite and open minded country but some ideas were still quite obsolete.
In high school at the question “what you want to be when you grow up?” She always answered an aircraft engineer for the airforce. She never faltered or never doubted. That’s what she wanted to, that was her path.
But when time for uni arrived and she applied for a degree in aeronautical engineering, that’s when she realised that the boys club extended far more than she expected.
She was basically the only woman in the class. None of the guys had approached her and on the first day she had walked in the classroom, one of them had the guts to tell her that the humanities department was in the annex c. She ignored the bastard and sat down at the front. She belonged in that room and she would prove it to every single one of them.
Day after day she had shown her knowledge and surprised her professor who was amazed at the fact that she could answer such in depth questions. Last time it happened, she had turned to Chaol - the asshole who had told her about the annex c, and gave him a smirk. That had removed his stupid grin from his face. It felt amazing.
During a private one-to-one with her professor she had confessed to him she had been working at the airbase as an apprentice during the past three summers. Her teacher had luckily been very supportive and encouraged her to keep up the good work.
Now, six months in, she still hated with a vengeance the arseholes she had to study with. Some of them even had the guts to ask her for some help after they realised she was actually good. She had answered that surely they didn’t want the help of a woman, and walked away.
After another class it was finally lunch time and she was meeting Rowan down at their spot on the grass. They were a couple. He had asked her out in the summer after high school was over and they had been together ever since. He was a med student and he knew her pain about choosing a challenging degree. Both their degrees were very intense and required a lot of time so they would just try and spend as much time together as they could. They had a flat together but the public library was were they spent most of their time.
And when their schedules allowed it, they would enjoy lunch together, venting about their academical choices.
“I fucking hate that bastard.” She raged, dropping her bag on the grass and sitting at his side, depositing a kiss on his lips. She felt better almost immediately, being in his arms was all she needed to feel okay again.
“What did he do now?” Asked Rowan knowing of her struggles in her classes.
Aelin grabbed her bag and pulled out her food, the dinner that Rowan had prepared the previous night and then packed away for both of them.
“The teacher gave us an exercise where we had to design an aircraft with what we had learned so far.” She told him, while munching away her food “He was up first and his project was a effing disaster. Seriously, I’d wouldn’t want to fly on a plane designed by him.” She took a sip of her water “the teacher asked us to say what was wrong and it took me ten minutes to stop. I mean, a two year old would have done a better job with lego bricks.”
Rowan giggled at her side “then my turn came and the bastard had the guts to tell me that the aerodynamics of my plane were off and that my ailerons where wrong as well and would not allow the plane to function properly. I took my laptop and shoved it in his face and told him to find the error in my math. He had no clue.” Her face turned smug “then the teacher took over and said that actually my project was, among all, the only one that could actually fly. I felt smug as fuck.”
Rowan pulled an arm around Aelin’s shoulder and pulled her to him. He was proud of her. Every damn day.
“Then after class, he threw me a paper plane and inside it had a message saying this is the only plane you will ever build or work on. I swear, the guy is still alive only because I am not looking forward to finishing my degree via distance learning from a prison.”
She calmed down “how was your day?”
Rowan leaned back against the tree “I had anatomy and physiology. Today we covered the endocrine system and it must be one most boring of them all.”
“Well,” she added with a big smile “when you cover the reproductive system you are welcome to practice with me…”
He laughed and squished her to her chest “I am a very big fan of your… bits.” She kissed him deeply not caring that they were in public, she wanted him and hated that they had more classes before being able to go home and then alas, study more. Maybe for one evening they could study something different.
“Aelin?”
“Yes, buzzard?”
His tongue gently teased her and she opened for him while his hand brushed off a rebel strand of hair.
He pulled back “Nothing, you had tomato sauce on you lips. I was just wiping it off. Did you think I wanted to kiss you?” 
Aelin gently punched him on the shoulder, in return he gave her a massive grin. Rowan was a very reserved man who struggled with stranger, but she had her own version, the goofy one, the one who made jokes and loved to cuddle with her. She would treasure that version forever. That was just for her.
They were busy chatting away and she was showing him on her laptop the exercise she had been working on and her plane prototype and although what she was saying was greek to him, he still listened to her in fascination.
She was telling him how a plane flew and the four forces when a figure stopped in front of them.
“It must be exciting to brag with your boyfriend about your hopeless projects.” Said the man.
Rowan raised his eyes and finally saw the face of the man that had been making Aelin’s life miserable.
“What did you just say?” Rowan stood and towered on the brown-haired man by twenty centimetres. Chaol also looked frail compared to Rowan’s muscular frame.
“Chaol, you’d better go.” Not that she cared about the man, she just didn’t want Rowan to get into trouble for a petty man.
“You’d better give up while you still can, Galathynius. Aeronautical engineering is not a field for a woman.” He crossed his arms at his chest trying to look intimidating but the look in Rowan’s eyes told her it was a useless attempt. Her boyfriend was ready to attack. She knew he had never hit anyone, but had a feeling that if Chaol didn’t stop it could be a first for Rowan.
“Chaol,” she stood as well and growled his name in warning.
“Oh, so you are one of those arseholes who believes that certain jobs can be done only by those who were born with a penis. It’s the fucking 21st century. Grow up, idiot.”
Rowan swore, alarm bells rang in Aelin’s head. He only swore when he was extremely mad, something that her unflappable boyfriend rarely was.
“Oh look, Galathynius, you have a knight in shining armour.”
Aelin moved between Rowan and Chaol, trying to separate them when her boyfriend moved a step closer to the other guy.
Chaol chuckled “Did you sleep with every professor—” but Chaol never finished his sentence. She saw the scene develop in slow motion in front of her. At those words Rowan’s face had turned feral and as on instinct his arm moved and a second later his fist found its target in Chaol’s face. 
Rowan then grabbed Chaol by the collar and lifted him up slightly “You take it back, immediately or I’ll smash all the twenty two bones in your skull.”
“Go on,” said Chaol, nursing a broken lips.
Aelin stopped in between and grasped Rowan’s hand gently “Put him down, Ro, he is not worth it.”
Her gaze then turned to Chaol “now you go back to whatever shithole you came from and perhaps go back working on your project and design a real aircraft.” She moved closer to him “I know what the fuck I am doing. And I know I will have a job in the airforce after this. You will just go back being daddy’s little spoiled boy.”
Chaol glared at her and Rowan finally let go of him, bur before he fully released him he pulled the man close enough that his mouth was near his ear “you disrespect her like that one more time and you’ll finish your degree from a hospital bed while sipping your food from a straw.” Rowan flashed his teeth in a threatening gesture “you leave her alone, because if I hear you have been a bastard to her one more time, I will make your life a living hell.” And eventually released him. Chaol shrugged his t-shirt back into place and walked away without adding another word.
Rowan sighed and then turned to her, his expression back being soft as soon as she looked back at him.
“You didn’t have to punch him,” she said while snuggling against his chest. His arms quickly around her.
“Yes I had to. What he said….” She felt him tense up again “he made me so mad, fireheart.”
“Seeing you thump him was very sexy,” she kissed him gently on the lips “my knight in shining armour.”
Rowan chuckled and looked into he blue eyes “you don’t need a knight. You are fierce, brave and strong and do not need any protection,” he added, his lips on her head. Nesting under his chin was her favourite position. They fit perfectly “I, on the other hand, as a male who is hopelessly in love with you, felt the desperate need to avenge the sullied honour of my amazing other half.”
Aelin giggled hard “you really sound like a knight.”
“Come on, Sir Rowan Whitethorn of Wendlyn, let’s finish our lunch, I have an hour of mechanics of flight coming up and I need sustenance.”
“Yes, my queen,” he said kneeling in front of her.
Aelin laughed and kissed him deeply “maybe I can be your queen tonight in bed as well.”
His smirk grew wider and Aelin felt heat pool at her core at his expression.
“Whatever m’lady commands.”
They finished their lunch in peace without any more interruptions and eventually they parted ways, going to their respective classes.
Chaol did not bothered her anymore. He didn’t even met her gaze and him ignoring her was all she asked. She was there to learn, he could just go and sulk in the afterburner of a jet, perhaps while on, for all she cared.
Aelin texted Rowan a thank you and his reply was a simple To whatever end.
111 notes · View notes
jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago
Text
Hayloft p.3
Tumblr media
Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader
Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)
Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though)
Word Count: 5.0k
A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took to publish! Work and school have been CRAZY!
Citation: (This is absolutely cited incorrectly but the poem included was found at this link!) https://rememberingthesixties.wordpress.com/2014/11/15/love-poems
Read the Previous Chapters!
Part 1  Part 2
_________________________________
“No! No! No! I ain’t got time for this today!” You groaned, twisting your key in the ignition only to hear the engine struggle to turn over. You were already running late to work, thanks to you misplacing your shoes, purse, and keys all on the same morning. When it was really only just you, your dad, and Arvin living in your home, it was ridiculous to be losing things as often as you did. It’s not like they were touching them. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was some gremlin that lived in the linen closet and hid your things to make life more difficult.
Of course, your car wouldn’t work either. What a fantastic beginning to the day.
You weren’t even sure what could be wrong with the car. It had worked just fine yesterday. There was no reason for it to suddenly fall apart on you. But alas, after several minutes of trying to start the car and checking what basic things you knew about under the hood to no avail, you gave out a groan of anger, “Damnit!”
With an angry kick of your old tire, you stomped back into the house. “Everythin' okay?” Arvin asked from the dining room table, where he sat eating a plate of toast and eggs.
“I was already running late this morning and now my stupid car won’t start,” you grumbled, throwing your purse onto the open chair and taking the phone off the receiver on the wall with more aggression than you intended. You were spinning the dial and putting in the phone number to the diner you worked at.
Arvin leaned forward in his seat, “I can take a look at it for you, if you’d like.”
“That would be great if you’re willing to but-” You began to answer but you stopped abruptly and held up a finger to him when a voice answered on the phone.
“Molly’s Diner. How can I help ya?” A woman’s voice that you recognized as your coworker Charlene asked from the other side.
“Hey, Charlene?” You asked, shooting Arvin an apologetic look for the sudden interruption. She sounded surprised to hear your greeting on the other end.
“Where you at, girl?” She questioned, the ambient wound of the busy diner in the background.
You leaned against the wall, gripping the phone with both hands, “I know I’m late! I’m sorry! My car broke down and I don’t think I can make it-”
“I can give you a ride if you need.” Arvin offered quiet enough for Charlene to not hear him on the other end but you perked up.
“Wait, hang on-” You interrupted Charlene just as she began to respond, “I can actually get a ride in.” You mouthed a sincere thank you to Arvin while holding onto the phone with both hands, feeling a slight glimmer of hope in your otherwise crappy day.
“You know what? Don’t even worry about it. You’re already so late just take the day off and get your car fixed. Just be here tomorrow, alright?” You could almost hear the way Charlene’s hand was waving dismissively from the other end of the phone.
You sighed in relief, “Thank you so much. I’ll make it up to you!” After a few brief goodbyes, you hung the phone up on the receiver.
Arvin stood up and placed his plate in the sink, “So are you needin’ a ride to work?”
You shook your head, “No, Charlene said to just take the day off ‘n get the car fixed. Thank you, though. It really is sweet of you to offer.”
Arvin only shrugged, “C’mon, after all you done for me, givin’ you a ride into town really ain’t much at all. I’d still be more than happy to take a look under your hood if you’d like.”
You blushed and tried to suppress the immature giggles that threatened to slip out at the way he worded his offer. His face visibly paled and began to stumble over his words, “‘m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to come out like that! I didn’t mean take a look under your… erm. I ain’t too good with my words sometimes. Forgive me.”
You laughed outright now, stepping forward and trying to pull his nervously fidgeting arms down, “It’s okay! You’re fine! You’re fine! I would love it if you looked under my hood.” You teased, overexaggerating the way you emphasized his words, throwing them back at him.
He rolled his eyes at you, an embarrassed smile pulling the corner of his lips upwards, before looking back down at you. It was then that you realized just how close you and Arvin were, your fingers still loosely touching his forearms where they had fallen. You looked up into his eyes - those soulful brown eyes - and found yourself wanting to know everything that they’d seen.
That familiar heat rose to your cheeks and you pulled your hands back, running them up and down the white apron you wore over teal uniform, “Well, um, I’m gonna go get changed outta this if I ain’t gotta wear it for work and then I can help you out with the car?”
Arvin’s hands found their way to his pockets and he nodded in understanding.
You had changed into a pair of jeans with a buttoned up blouse before jogging out front to find Arvin already bent over the exposed inner workings of your car. “How’s it lookin’?” You asked, slowing to a pace until you reached the car. You landed beside him, hands falling on the dirty metal as you leaned over to see the mechanics. He fiddled with a few things here and there, things that you didn’t quite understand. You were good with the basics of fixing your car. You could change the oil and fix a flat but when it came to the more complicated stuff, you were a little less well-versed.
He leaned back and wiped his greasy hands on each other, “I think I have the problem pinpointed. ‘M gonna need to head into town and get a part but it’s not a hard fix at all.”
“Thank you so much for doin’ this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You took a few steps back as Arvin lowered the hood, letting it fall the last few inches with a heavy thud.
“Yeah, well I’m happy I can finally be some help ‘round here to you.”
You rolled your eyes, following Arvin back to the house, “Please, you are plenty of help ‘round here. More help than I’ve gotten in years.”
Arvin gave you a knowing tight-lipped smile and nodded once the two of you made it through the front door. He didn’t say anything for a moment but there was a silent understanding. “You need anything while I’m out?” He asked, changing the subject.
You shook your head, “No, I’m alright. Thank you though.”
It was rare that you actually had time to yourself. While Arvin was gone, you found yourself wandering around confused for a short while until the buzzing silence wore on your ears. You sat on the couch and pulled the radio over closer to you on the coffee table, looking over your shoulder as if someone would catch you at any moment.
This was one of your secrets that you held close to you, knowing your father would make fun of you if he ever found out. Moon River had been a favorite radio program of yours since you discovered it while tuning through the stations a year back. It was full of romantic poetry and slow beautiful music. Everything you dreamt about but knew you could never have, not while you were stuck here at least. But a girl could dream.
“Tonight’s love poem is written by Betty Hayes Albright. We hope you enjoy.
They tell me not to write of love
but what else can I write –
when love is in my heart and soul
and mind both day and night?
“You’re just too young and you can’t know
of love,” (does anyone?)
“you can’t profess such knowledge –
stick to verse and pun.”
.
They tell me that, and say love poems
are worn out through and through
but I can’t agree with them,
for me love is brand new.
Feelings in me can’t stay down,
my love for him I can’t ignore,
somehow it’s got to be expressed,
“I’ve got no lock upon my door.”
.
To those who stick to subjects
of the sky and stars, of joy and pain
I write my poems of love because
my heart’s love-blood shall never drain.
Perhaps they too shall love again.”
You sighed as it came to an end and you couldn’t help but see Arvin’s face in your mind’s eye. Love had always felt like something you could only dream of. It was a “one day when I get out of here” thought, not something you saw yourself obtaining for a long time, if ever. Now with Arvin… well you weren’t sure if you could call it love but it sure as hell was the closest thing to it you’d experienced.
Since the words were spoken, they kept swirling around your head: “When love is in my heart and soul; and mind both day and night.” Since his arrival two months ago, Arvin had been that very subject on your mind almost constantly. He was the first face you hoped to see every morning and the last one you wanted to see before bed. Your entire mood lit up every time he walked into the room, even when you were stressed from work or your father. It hadn’t been hard for you to realize that he became the lighthouse in the rocky ocean, promising solace and providing light in the storm that could be your life at times. It was hard to not fall for that.
"Never heard that one before." You whipped around in a panicked start to see Arvin standing in the foyer. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."
You shook your head and tucked your hair behind your ears, "No, no, you're fine. You read a lot of poetry?" You watched Arvin shake his head and walk into the room. He stopped on the other side of the couch and you climbed up, placing your knees on the cushions and leaning over the back of the couch to look up at him.
"I don't like poetry all that much, at least the ones we read in high school… but I like that one." He looked down at where his hand gripped the back of the couch and his weight shifted on his feet.
Your eyes fell to his hands in an attempt to hide the blush that crept up on your cheeks that really had no place being there. "Yeah… me too. It reminds me that there is real love out there in the world."
A silence settled over the room as your eyes anxiously dragged up Arvin’s body till they settled on his eyes but you found yourself unable to hold his gaze. "I, erm, I got the part I need for your car." He took a step back and lifted the hand that wasn't on the couch, tossing the metal mechanism in his hand.
"Oh," you pressed yourself away from the couch and moved back to stand, "thank you for runnin’ all the way out into town."
He gave you a small smile and a nod, “It’s my pleasure. I’m gonna go see if this fixes the problem.”
***
"That should be it," Arvin slammed the hood back down and wiped his hands on his jeans. "We should take her for a drive to see if she's runnin' alright now."
You nodded, "Alright. Hop in." You took the keys from your pocket and gestured to the passenger seat. Arvin climbed in and you slid into the driver's seat, turning the key. This time, the engine started up without a problem. A big smile spread across your face, "You're a miracle worker, you know that?"
Arvin shook his head, "I ain't no miracle worker. Just good with fixin' things I s'pose."
Your feet were on the brake and the clutch when you shifted into first gear and began to peel out down the long dirt driveway. You stopped at the road and looked both ways, trying to decide which way to go. You looked to your right, the road into town, and then to the left, the way to that field that was oh so special to you. You began to gnaw at your lower lip.
Did you want to show Arvin? That little clearing by the creek had been your secret getaway since you’d discovered it three years ago. You never told anybody about it and you’d never seen anyone else there when you went so, as far as you were concerned, it was yours. Your special hide away, your paradise, your escape. But since his arrival, Arvin had become just that as well.
“You alright?” He questioned, looking over at you with a vaguely concerned expression.
You looked over at him, a nervous twist to your lips, “Can I show you somewhere special?” Perhaps it was an odd question to ask, though you hadn’t thought it was until you saw the curious and somewhat confused look dawn on Arvin’s face. Nevertheless, he nodded and, with a smile, you turned left towards the field.
It was a short but otherwise successful, trouble-free drive. You slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road into the dirt shoulder. “Where are we?” Arvin asked, looking around and seeing nothing but tall grass and trees.
With an impish smile, you turned off the ignition and looked towards him, “You’ll see. C’mon!” You threw your door open and walked around the front of the car towards the passenger’s side, hanging on the passenger door when Arvin finally opened the door to exit the vehicle.
He followed you to the edge of the brush where you walked as if you knew it like home. With minimal effort, you found the overgrown path and pulled him along behind you. The road disappeared behind the two of you as you wandered beyond the tree line, tall birch trees creating a maze that you knew by heart. The path was short and you navigated it with a sixth sense until you led Arvin to a small field. There was an imperfect circle of wild grasses beside a stream that seemingly appeared from nowhere but you knew it was that time of year when the snow started melting off the mountains. Bundles of wildflowers grew mixed in the grass. Just along the bank of the crystal clear creek water was a large dogwood tree with vibrant white flowers.
“Wow…” Arvin breathed out in amazement as he tried to take in the beauty of the place.
“Pretty, ain’t it?” You asked with a smile, the wonder in his brown eyes warming your heart. You were glad that he seemed to appreciate it as much as you did.
You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as your heart welled with happiness at his stunned reaction. He stepped in a slow circle, taking in the beautiful scenery. “It’s beautiful.”
“This is sorta my… escape from reality, I guess you could call it. I come here and I’m suddenly in a different world away from all the bullshit of life.” You reached down to run your fingers through the soft blades of grass. Arvin smirked and you looked up at him with a short breathy laugh, “What?”
He shook his head and looked down, hands buried in his pockets as always, “I think that’s the first time I ever heard you curse.”
You rolled your eyes, “I don’t do it very often. My daddy would always yell at me tellin’ me how un-ladylike it was to say bad words. Told me it made me sound ugly. I think his exact words were ‘a dirty mouth makes a dirty woman.’” Your voice dropped to mock your father.
Arvin spoke plainly, “Your pa needs to treat you better.”
You gave him a sad knowing smile and looked down at the ground, “It wasn’t always like this, y’know? I think that’s the saddest part.”
“What you mean?” Arvin asked.
You sat down on the grass, feeling the soft blades press against your skin as you sat back on your hands. Arvin followed suit, finding a comfortable spot beside you and waiting for you to continue. “When my momma was alive, he hardly ever drank. Wasn’t nothing like he is now. I think that’s the only reason I’ve put up with as much as I have. I hate seeing this miserable shell of the man I once knew but I also know that a real father wouldn’t have let himself fall into this pit - or at least stay down there long enough to practically leave his daughter to fend for herself. I just always hoped that maybe one day he’d pull through and… y’know… be my dad again.”
You laid back on the ground and stared up at the sky. The clouds passed by, white and weightless, pure and unaffected by the troubles of this world. You envied them. The way they floated along, either bringing shade and beauty to the sky or raging unapologetic storms, with no constraints as to where they could float and how they could behave… it made you wish you could be a cloud.
Arvin was silent, unsure of how to respond. He wanted to offer words of support and encouragement but he never had been too good with words. He hadn’t really been taught to talk about problems. His daddy had taught him to finish them with his fists. Finally, he sighed, looking out across the field, “I understand. I felt the same way ‘bout my daddy.”
You perched up on your elbows, “Really?”
He nodded and looked down at his leg, which he was slowly rolling side to side just to keep fidgeting in some way, “Yeah… he, uh, he changed into a totally different man after my mama died.”
You looked up at him but you could see he was trying to avoid your eyes. You rested a gentle hand on his knee, “‘M sorry, Arvin. I had no idea.”
He shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. It’s been a long time.”
“D-do you mind if I ask what happened?” You cautiously inquired but quickly added, “Of course, it’s fine if not. You just… you don’t talk much ‘bout yourself.”
Arvin took a deep breath in, “My mama died when I was ‘bout ten. Cancer took her. My daddy tried everythin’ to keep her alive but when it didn’t work… he killed ‘imself too.”
This time you were unsure of how to respond, stunned by the new information you’d just learned. “I-I’m so sorry,” you breathed out in disbelief. For some reason, you had never thought that perhaps Arvin could have had a similar childhood experience to you, like losing your mothers, but your heart went out to him.
“It took a long time for me to understand why he did what he did but I finally realized that he just loved my mama so much that he couldn’t bear to be away from her.”
“He should’ve loved you enough to stay for you.” Before you could stop yourself, the stunning but honest words slipped from your lips. You damn near stopped breathing when you realized what you said, “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s alright.” Arvin had been stunned by the words that came out of your mouth but he knew damn well they were only a vocalization of a thought he had had almost every day since the day his father put a bullet in his head. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I hadn’t thought the same thing before.”
A heavy silence weighed over the two of you that was only relieved by a cool breeze. “So what happened to your mama?” Arvin asked.
Your face twisted, “Labor complications. She was pregnant with my little sister. When she went into labor, things just went really wrong. She lost too much blood ‘n died. The baby died too. I think it was just too much loss at once for my daddy to handle.”
“That’s too much loss to make a child deal with on her own,” Arvin commented the same way you had earlier.
You shrugged, wavering your head from side to side. Like he’d said, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t had the same thought. “Looks like we got a lot in common.” You chuckled sadly, “I feel like I lost everyone who ever loved me. My mom, my sister, my grandparents, my dad...” Another silence settled and you waved the thought away, pushing yourself to sit up, “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to make this all sad.”
Arvin shook his head, “You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for.” He paused, hesitant to continue. He hadn’t talked to anybody about what happened back in Coal Creek and Knockemstiff but something was strongly compelling him to. Maybe it was a bad idea to continue but he did, “I had a sister once too.”
Your mouth fell slightly in surprise and you let out a heavy breath, “You did?” The use of the words had and did instead are have and do were not lost on you and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.
Arvin swallowed hard and nodded, “Yeah… she, uh, she got into some trouble with this no good preacher that came into town. She was just so lonely, reminds me a lot o' you, but when he saw that and he took advantage of her. Took everythin’ he wanted and when she got into trouble he just told her she was crazy.” He paused for a moment, the memories of his sister flowing through his head, “Found her hangin’ in the shed.”
You were dumbfounded by the story you’d just been told. Anger and sadness were clear in Arvin’s voice despite his attempt to hold on, though you had a feeling that just the way he had been telling you about it meant that he had shared more of himself than he ever intended to . You struggled to wrap your brain around the tragedy he had just shared. “What’s her name?” You finally asked after a few moments of silence.
Arvin looked out across the field again and then back at you, “Lenora.”
“Lenora,” you repeated, “That’s a pretty name.” Arvin only nodded wordlessly. Again, another pause before you continued, “You said it was some preacher that got her in trouble? What happened with that? I mean, you knew? Didn’t anyone else? Is he in jail or somethin’?”
The man tensed up next to you and shot a look towards you that was sharper than one he’d ever given you before. You shrank back ever so slightly, taken off guard by his response to your seemingly simple question. “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to-”
“Ain’t nobody woulda believed my Lenora if she told ‘em. You know how people see women who got babies ‘n no husband. Especially since he was the preacher…” he trailed off and you were desperate to see the memories that played behind his big brown eyes, “He ain’t gonna hurt nobody no more.”
Your brows knitted together, trying to decipher what that meant. Did he go to jail? Was he fired? Was his reputation ruined? You prayed whatever justice he got was fit for something so atrocious.
"I'm sorry you lost your sister."
"I'm sorry you lost yours too."
After a long silence, Arvin laid back beside you, his body grazing your arm as he lowered himself. The two of you rested beside each other in this new understanding of each other. As you struggled to keep your attention on the sky, your eyes frequently straying from the vast blue expanse overhead to the beautiful man to your right, you couldn't help but wonder if by some insane fantasy maybe he'd be struggling to keep his eyes off of you in the same way.
"Let's talk about somethin' less depressing," you prompted, "How 'bout girlfriends? You ever had one of those?"
Arvin’s chest rose and fell heavily as he sighed, "I ain't never had much time for a girlfriend. Didn't much like anybody in my hometown anyways. Don't think nobody liked me much neither."
You rolled your eyes and audibly scoffed, "I find it hard to believe you didn't have girls bangin' down your door for a date. You're tellin' me you ain't never went out on a single date?"
He shook his head, "Nope. I mean I kissed a girl or two back when I was younger but I never had no time for datin'. Always workin' or helpin' my grandma or keepin' Lenora safe."
You rolled over onto your side and looked down at him curiously, "Where you from anyways?"
Arvin was hesitant to answer, you could see it plain as day, though you couldn't figure why. Finally, he answered, "Lived with my mama and daddy in Knockemstiff but moved to Coal Creek with my grandma after they died."
Mentally, you wracked your mental map for any memory of those towns but found none. "I don't think I ever heard of those," you commented, lying back down.
Arvin stretched his arm up and readjusted his cap, "Not many people have unless you're from near there. Just some small towns you'd drive right through and never even notice. Knockemstiff is near Meade, Ohio."
"Oh!" You exclaimed in realization, "I heard of that one!" You giggled. You didn't live anywhere near there but you'd heard the name at least from a friend whose family was from Meade.
"What about you?" He asked.
You began tracing light patterns on your stomach with your finger, "What about me? You know where I'm from."
"You ever had a boyfriend?"
You kept your eyes staring straight up. “I tried datin’ a few boys back in high school but nothing too serious. They didn’t seem to like me much,” you admitted with a shrug. At the time, it had bothered you a little that you seemed to have a hard time finding a boyfriend but now you saw that it was better this way. Younger you had spent night after night praying for a knight in shining armor that would come and whisk you away to some beautiful new life. All they had done was run for the hills because they didn’t want to deal with your daddy… not that you could blame them. You’d learned not to depend on anybody for anything, certainly not some boy to make your life better. You’d have to do that yourself.
“I think it would be impossible for somebody not to like you.” Arvin said quietly but with no ounce of dishonesty.
You rolled your eyes and rolled over to look at him, “Your just sayin’ that.” Despite the fact you swore to yourself he was only joking, blood rushed to your cheeks.
Arvin’s head turned in the crook of his arm to make eye contact with you, “I like you.”
The sweetly joking smile you had on your face fell in shock. “W-what?” You stuttered less than gracefully.
“I mean it. I like you… a lot.” After your pause, his heart fell but he didn’t need you knowing that, “You ain’t gotta say it back.”
“I like you too,” you admitted quickly before Arvin could continue to doubt himself anymore but when you looked over at him, you could see that momentary flash of doubt in his eyes. You could almost hear his thoughts behind those big brown orbs: Nah, you’re just sayin’ that. So you decided to beat him to it, “I really do.”
A warm breeze couldn’t dispel the thickness that had been created in the air between you two as you both looked at each other, trying to decipher what the other was thinking and what on Earth you were supposed to do next. Neither of you were well experienced when it came to love or romance or whatnot but experience wasn’t needed to feel some higher power, call it God or the universe, pulling the two of you together.
You weren’t quite sure when you and Arvin had started to inch your lips closer to each others’ but when they finally met in a gentle experimental kiss, it was as if fireworks had gone off. Your heart swelled with an emotion that could only be described as longing. Breathing stopped as if the feather-light touch of his lips on yours had knocked the air out of your lungs and you found yourself unable to catch it.
Both you and Arvin were hesitant to pull back and neither of you did until there was no air left in your lungs. It was one of those kisses that left you less. Breathless, speechless, thoughtless. Just less. And yet somehow more. A part of you that you had denied being empty for so long felt like it was now filled by Arvin and, perhaps that was too much credit to give for simply saying he liked you and sharing a mindblowing kiss with you, but damn.
“I-I-I uh…” You tried to stammer out something that would be fitting but there were no words.
“You ain’t gotta say nothin’.” Arvin reached over and gently brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “But I’ll be damned if I let you go without tellin’ you you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
You reached up and covered his large hand with your own, twisting your wrist so that your fingers would interlock with his, “Who ever said you gotta let me go?
__________________
Taglist:
@peterswebshooters
@thisisparadisemylove
@justapurrcat
@tomsirishgirlx
@peterswebshooters
@femmme-xxx-fatale
@kittyformannn
251 notes · View notes
mm2305 · 3 years ago
Note
What Ethan & Olivia AU is this? #OpenHeartAU
Tumblr media Tumblr media
An eventful encounter
Pairing : Ethan Ramsey x Olivia Valentine || Rating/Genre : Teen+/romance, general || Warnings / Words : none / 2.8k ||Setting : Alternate Universe - Regency Era || Disclaimer : all characters and pictures belong to the rightful owners
Summary : During one of her trips in town, Olivia meets the newly-arrived Dr. Ramsey.
A/N : Let me start by saying that this has been in my inbox for almost a month and I'm so sorry for the long wait. Secondly, this was something completely new to me, since it's set in a different time and universe, but still very fun to write! No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I really hope this comes out good enough :)
Enjoy!
My masterlist
Tumblr media
-/-
Somewhere in the England of 1816
Olivia's pov
"Oh come on you little bugger", a young woman sighed exasperated, looking at her reflection in the vanity. She had been trying for the last twenty minutes to gather her long hair with some pins, but it was difficult to contain all of it in them. Finally, she got ready and rushed down the stairs of her home, Edenbrook Manor.
"Mrs Clarke? Where are you?"
"I am in the kitchens Miss Olivia!", the other woman replied.
Olivia followed the stairwell leading to the kitchen and greeted Mrs Clarke, one of the people who worked in her home. She was more than that to her though, since she was the one who practically raised her, her friend and closest confidant. Her father, Ernest Valentine, was a merchant, quite known for his successful business, but was away from home most of the year, coming only a few weeks at a time. Therefore, her mother, Anne Valentine, was left to manage most of the affairs regarding the estate and surrounding grounds they owned. Both did love her dearly, they just didn't have time for her. Since she had no siblings, she was left with no one's company but Mrs Clarke's ,who in her and her family's eyes had become a member of the Valentine family too.
"Do you need anything else from the market Mrs Clarke?"
"No Miss, that's everything we need. Are you sure you want to go, though ?"
Having grown up close to her, Olivia was always helping around the house in whatever ways she could, even though she wasn't expected or needed to do so. Of course, she didn't neglect her occasional music , embroidery and drawing lessons, even though her true passion was biology, anatomy and science. In another world she imagined herself being a doctor, but since that wasn't possible, she just made the best of the situation at home, doing many things to pass her time.
"Of course! It will be a great chance for me to get some fresh air since I have not been out for a while. I promise I will be careful."
"Alright dear. Then you had better go now, it's quite a walk to the market.Who knows, you may meet somebody worth going to a ball with today."
"Not likely Mrs Clarke. And besides, you know I have high standards."
With a slight wave to Mrs Clarke, Olivia took her basket and headed out of the Manor.
----------
After a long, refreshing walk, Olivia reached the local food market. Rows upon rows of products had filled the sides of the road, the smell of flowers, herbs and fresh fruit invading her senses. People moved at their own pace, some slow and others faster, with baskets of their own at hand and doing their shopping. The whole street seemed to have come alive on that warm, autumn afternoon, creating a charming, quaint picture.
In just a few minutes she had gathered everything she needed, her basket full of herbs, vegetables and fruit. Ready to go home, she turned around, towards the end of the market, not noticing the tall man coming her way and colliding with him, the force knocking her down on the ground.
"I am so sorry sir, I did not mean --"
"Forgive me Miss I --", they both started apologizing at the same time. Olivia noticed she was still on the ground and the stranger offered his hand and carefully helped her back on her feet.
Finally looking up at him, she felt her breath catch in her throat.
The stranger was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. He was tall with a strong physique. His hair was a dark mahogany brown color, just visible in his hat, leading to his piercing, ocean blue eyes. He had a sharp jawline with high cheekbones and she was sure that his smile would be just as beautiful as the rest of his face.
His warm hand was still holding hers, the gesture sending sparks through her body. The man, noticing he was still holding her hand, cleared his throat and dropped it gently.
"I am deeply sorry, Miss. I hope you are not hurt.", he said in a deep yet gentle voice.
"I am alright, thank you for your assistance Mr..?"
"Ramsey. Ethan Ramsey. And you are?"
"Olivia Valentine, sir, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"The pleasure is all mine. Oh! You dropped your basket!". He immediately bent down to gather the scattered apples, pears and whatever else could be saved.
"Please allow me, you need not do this…", she also kneeled beside him to gather the items, her hand going to catch an apple at the same time as Mr. Ramsey,their fingers briefly touching. They both locked eyes again, the movement making Olivia's cheeks redden in color. Did he feel that too? Looking away from his eyes for the sake of modesty and back at her now half full basket, she realized that she had to start making her way back home soon, if she wanted to make it before dinner. With a small sigh, she got up and dusted her dress,more than a little disappointed that she hadn't had the time to learn anything about Mr. Ramsey.
"Thank you once more Mr Ramsey. I sincerely apologize for falling onto you. If you'll excuse me, I need to return back home. I wish you a pleasant afternoon. ", she smiled softly at him and curtsied briefly before turning her back to him and starting walking. Hmm… I have never seen him before in town. Maybe Mrs. Clarke knows something about him. She decided she would ask Mrs. Clarke for more information when she reached home. Alas, she had not made it three feet away when Olivia heard him coming behind her.
" Ms. Valentine? "
" Yes? ", Olivia turned around curiously looking at him.
" Would you allow me to walk you back to your house? I… It's the least I could do for you after our eventful encounter", he asked with a hint of a smile on his face.
He really is handsome, she thought wordlessly. Was this her chance to get to know the mysterious man better? Was this a chance for a new friendship to bloom? Maybe something more? "Stop getting ahead of yourself Olivia. You just met this man! He may even be married!", The little voice in her mind warned her, but her heart, full of excitement at the prospect of getting to know him better, had already decided.
" I would love to"
------------------------------
Ethan's pov
Ethan was absentmindedly walking across the stone paved streets of the town he had just moved in. Or rather, his new residence was close to this town. Instead of taking his horse, he decided to take a walk from his house to the town, to get a feeling of orientation around this new place. Being prepared and feeling in control, made him feel more confident in himself, particularly since he was not good at social interactions. Being a man of solitude and always focused on his work, made him unwilling to make any meaningless acquaintances, the frivolous events he was often invited to, being of no essence to him. It was because of his work that he decided to move here.
Immersed in his thoughts as he was, he didn't notice the young lady that accidentally ran directly into him. The force of the blow knocked her to the ground, Ethan immediately apologizing and offering his hand to help her back up.
When the young woman looked up at him, he was left speechless.
This lady, whoever she was, was easily the most beautiful woman he had encountered in all the thirty years of his life. She had golden, blond hair that seemed softer than the most expensive silk and a spotless, alabaster skin. Her big, forest green eyes seemed to be able to see right through his soul and her rosy, full lips were in perfect harmony with her features. She was quite shorter than him, her head just reaching his shoulder and he could guess, even through the many layers of clothing, that she had a lean, feminine frame.
Her hand was soft and small in his and that's when he noticed he was still holding it. Clearing his throat to collect himself, he apologized again to her.
"I am alright, thank you for your assistance Mr..?", she asked him, her voice sounding like the most beautiful of melodies.
"Ramsey. Ethan Ramsey. And you are?"
"Olivia Valentine, sir, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Where have I heard that name from though? Catching himself being so entranced in this lady he just met, he allowed his eyes to wander away from her, when he noticed her basket, previously full of products, now scattered on the ground. He set down to gather whatever could be saved, knowing he must seem like a fool for doing what a gentleman would never probably do. All his thoughts flew out of the window, when he felt that spark again from both their fingers closing around an apple. Olivia's cheeks turned in a color close to the apple she was holding, making her seem even more beautiful than before. What is it that has me totally mesmerized by this woman?
To his great displeasure, their brief encounter would have to be cut short, since she had to return back to her house. Wishing him farewell, she began walking away but before he fully thought about what he was about to ask, his feet were carrying him towards her.
"Ms Valentine?"
She turned around, clearly wondering what he wanted to ask from her. "Yes?"
Taking a deep breath he gathered the courage to ask her what he wanted. "Would you allow me to walk you back to your house? I… -he staggered even though he never did before, looking for a reason to convince not only her but himself too as to why he was doing this for someone he just met - It's the least I could do for you after our eventful encounter", he added with a small smile.
For a few seconds that really seemed to stretch into hours, he could see the wheels in her mind turning, before she looked up at him and said the words he so much had come to want to hear.
"I would love to"
--------------
Olivia's pov
Ethan offered her his arm to take and Olivia weaved hers through it, her hand settled at the crook of his arm.
They began walking and for a few minutes no one said anything, a somewhat awkward silence setting over them. Neither of them seemed sure as to what they should say to break the ice. Finally Ethan, with a small cough, began talking to her.
"Do you live far from town, Miss Valentine?"
"My home, Edenbrook Manor, is about an hour and a half away from here."
"Oh! I actually bought a residence that is, apparently, close to your house."
"So you are the new doctor who bought Kenmore Park!"
"Indeed, I am"
"May I ask what made you choose to come here? I have the feeling you have been offered better and perhaps more, financially speaking, beneficial positions in bigger towns or cities."
He didn't hesitate to answer. "I was offered a position in this hospital and I was instantly aware that here, I could be more useful since there are not many doctors willing to work in a more rural area. Besides, I had missed the countryside. Has my arrival become such a popular issue here? ", he raised an eyebrow teasingly.
"Yes and no, Dr. Ramsey." she put emphasis on the Doctor, teasing him back too.
Ethan lowered his eyes, seeming a little sheepish. "Ah well… I could not find it in my heart to correct you, Miss. I am sorry."
Olivia chuckled, waving her hand dismissively. "You do not need to worry about it, I assure you."
"You see, this is a relatively small town and it is rare that something new happens. People have the tendency to talk. Or rather gossip, if I am being honest. But I actually learnt about you, from my maid, Mrs Clarke. I do not really get out of the house a lot."
"May I ask why?", Mr. Ramsey asked. Then as if considering how indiscreet he must seem, he sucked in a breath and turned to her. "I am sorry, Miss Valentine, it was not my place to ask."
For some reason, Olivia found herself not minding. Normally, she would not be interested in having a conversation with a man, knowing that at her age every move was scrutinized by potential suitors. That is why she remained unmarried at the age of four and twenty, much to society's disappointment. She just could not bind herself to a loveless marriage of interest. However, with Ethan, talking was easy and she felt surprisingly comfortable with this man she only met an hour ago.
"Well. I remain unmarried at the age of four and twenty and people like I said before, tend to talk. I find myself uninterested in what they say but it does make everyday life easier, since I do not have to hear my parents and Mrs Clarke trying to convince me to attend balls at every chance.", she rolled her eyes with what she felt was loving exasperation.
"I honestly could not imagine a woman such as yourself not being asked for her hand in marriage", Dr. Ramsey said, his face carefully neutral at her admission.
"It is not that I have not received any proposals, but it is I who refuses. My father is quite successful at his profession and those suitors were clearly interested in my family's wealth, not me."
"Then yours was a wise decision to make, if you allow me to say this, Miss."
Nodding silently, Olivia contemplated asking the question that had been in her mind ever since they began their walk. Oh just do it already Olivia. Before she could think further about it, she blurted out her question.
" How about you, Dr. Ramsey? Is there a wife waiting for you at home?"
"No, actually. Much like your case, I have no interest in people not caring about the important things in a marriage. That is not to say I stand against the institution. But, there has not been the right person in my life, so far."
A small, imperceptible smile graced her lips at his answer.
"I assume you are quite taken with your job, no? Since you moved to a different area, just because you want to help here…", Olivia changed the topic after a moment, her tone more cheerful and her heart longing to hear how life as a physician is.
"Indeed I am. Of course I owe all the skills I have acquired, to my mentor, Dr. Naveen Banerji head of Solomon's Hospital in London and professor at --"
"Edinburgh Medical School.",she finished with something that could only be described as wonder in her eyes.
" But how do you know?", he turned to her, surprised that she had heard of Naveen.
Olivia's eyes lowered to the ground, knowing that what she was about to say, would make him laugh at her.
"I… I study biology, anatomy and science whenever I can. I know it is something impossible for a woman in our times, but if I had the chance, I would love to take a proper apprenticeship and become a physician. Naturally, I cannot help but be informed about everything surrounding the medical world. And Dr. Banerji is one of the best doctors in the country. "
When she reluctantly looked back into the eyes that seemed to call for her, she saw an emotion similar to admiration in them. What for, she could not understand , but it made the butterflies in her stomach flutter excitedly.
" Miss Valentine, I've known you for just about two hours and yet, I can confidently say that your intelligence would make you an excellent physician. Please, do not hesitate to ask me anything if you have questions, it would be my pleasure to answer them for you.", Ethan assured her, his voice sincere and the opposite of what she expected to hear.
Olivia's face lightened up at that and she started excitedly asking him several questions, for the rest of the way to her house. It had been a long time since she had met someone not dismissing her love for medicine and even longer since she sincerely enjoyed talking to another person besides her family.
"Maybe this could finally really be the start of something worth exploring", they both thought, grinning happily for the rest of the way back, perfectly content in each other's company.
-/-
A/N : if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading!
Tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed and if you want to be moved to another category) :
Perma (all edits and fics) : @romewritingshop @codykosuckmytoe @sophxwithers @actuallybored @potionsprefect @ethansramsey @crystalwillow @gryffindordaughterofathena @kiara-36 @mrsethanfreakingramsey @writer-ish @panda9584 @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @queencarb @shanzay44 @nikki-2406 @starryeyedrookie @coffeeheartaddict @schnitzelbutterfingers @mysticaurathings @starrystarrytrouble @lsvdw-blog @izzyourresidentlawyer @silma-words @stygianflood @headoverheelsforramsey @maurine07 @natureblooms24 @a-crepusculo
Fics : @alina-yol-ramsey // Regency era fics : @princess-geek
54 notes · View notes
barricadebops · 4 years ago
Note
A combination of 2, 5, 7 and 11. For my loves E and R.
Prompts:
"Is there a reason why you're blushing like that?"/"OH you're jealous!"/"Please just kiss me already." /"I think I'm in love with you."
The creak of the door opened wide enough to spill streams of light into the dark room as Grantaire turned away and groaned, an arm draped across his eyes. 
See, it wasn't that he was sick or had a headache that he needed to stay in bed and rest, and that the light was currently unbearable. None of that was true.
The matter at hand was that the day prior, Grantaire had broken his leg attempting to help Musichetta move into her new apartment with Joly and Bossuet, and it seemed Bossuet's bad luck was spreading to infect others with the way Grantaire had tripped and fallen down the stairs, breaking his leg in a rather painful manner. 
Now that he thought of it, Bossuet was near him when the accident occurred. Yes, it seemed Bossuet was definitely spreading his bad luck onto the others, starting with him.
And the thing is, it was just a broken leg. It wasn't as if he had caught the plague and was going to die. But Joly ordered him strict bed rest for the rest of that day continuing into tomorrow, and as much of a jolly man Joly could be, he could also muster quite the threatening smile when it came to medical matters. 
So Grantaire wasn't taking chances. Besides, even if he wanted to, it's not like Enjolras would let him. His boyfriend was taking this whole role of "personal-carer" (he said he refused to call himself a "doctor" on accounts that doing so would erase the years of hard work people like Combeferre and Joly go through to become one--Grantaire personally thought it didn't matter because none of this was necessary anyways, but hey, what does he know) a bit too seriously if you asked Grantaire. 
His boyfriend. God what a sentence. Grantaire could probably heal himself with those words only if this were some magic-kids cartoon or something.
So no, he wasn't physically sick; he was sick of having to lie in bed all day. He didn't feel sick. He wasn't sick. Hell, he didn't even have a hangover. As long as he used his crutches, he could move along. 
But alas. Joly. If he was here, he knows Joly would make some sort of a jollity out of being confined to the bed.
His attention was drawn out of his head and back to the present as the bed dipped by his side and he pitched his eyes up to Enjolras' familiar blue pair. 
Well, there wasn't much positive about his predicament, but the extra time with Enjolras? That was likely the one good thing that came out of this. 
Not that he didn't get enough time with him. But any extra time he got to spend with him was all the better. 
By his side above him, Enjolras laid a hand on his chest. "Are you feeling alright?" he murmured, mindful of the silence that preceded his entry into the room. 
Grantaire grinned up at him. "I broke my leg, Enjolras, I didn't have a stroke." All the same, he raised his own hand to curl around Enjolras', brushing a thumb over his soft skin. 
"It was worth asking," was all he replied softly. 
He rubbed another circle on Enjolras' hand before raising it up to his lips and pressing a light kiss on it. Enjolras' smile grew more brilliant even in the dim of the room. He chalked it up to the brightness of his, as Jehan once put it in a poem, exquisite teeth.
At the red that bloomed on Enjolras' cheeks, he smiled and teased, "Is there a reason why you're blushing like that?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." 
"Why yes," he grinned harder at the way his blush grew darker, and he paused a moment to press another lingering kiss on his knuckles, "I would like to know." 
Enjolras carded a hand through his curls, prompting a satisfied hum from Grantaire. "Live in suspense." 
He reached up his hand not already occupied with holding Enjolras' own and twirled a finger around a stray curl on the side of Enjolras' face.
"I thought lecture ended at three? It's--" he glanced briefly at the clock-- "five now. I'm not trying to keep you trapped at home, I can tell from personal experience it's not fun, but you've gotta understand my curiosity here."
Enjolras hummed. "Well, one of your classmates--I think he said his name was Sadiq--he said you left your newest project in Dr. Alvarez' classroom, but that her room was still open. And I would have passed the building on my way back here anyways, so I thought I could bring it home so you could still work on it. If you're up for it, that is." 
Grantaire's eyebrows knit in concern. "Enj that canvas is by far one of the heaviest things I've painted on before. You walked all the way home carrying that thing?"
With a teasing smile, Enjolras said, "It's my secret superpower." 
He quirked an eyebrow. 
Enjolras chuckled. "Alright, no I didn't walk home. The canvas does have some considerable weight to it. But I did bring it home; Maxence was driving me home, and he said he wasn't in any rush. And don't worry, I'm the one who loaded the project into the car, I know it's important. And I made sure he drove extra slow and careful too. So… here I am." 
Quite on the contrary, the idea of Enjolras on an extra slow car-ride with Maxence didn't exactly please Grantaire. Really the thought of Maxence anywhere near Enjolras didn't please him. 
He knew these were his insecurities at play. He knew he should probably address them before his behaviour turned toxic. But really, there had to be some merit to his dislike and suspicion of the man. He saw the way he would look at Enjolras, the way his touches would always linger just the slightest bit too long. And of course, Enjolras, who himself was quite the tactile person with his friends, never thought anything wrong of it. 
But everytime he was there with Enjolras, offering "companionship" by walking out of class with him, or walking him to his next lecture, or offering to help study a concept at the coffeeshop a sizeable distance away from the Cafe Musain--Grantaire couldn't help it; he seethed. 
Some of that displeasure must have shown on his face, or must have made itself heard in the beat of silence he allowed to stretch on for just a moment too long for it to not have been charged, but not with any sort of buzzing of joy. 
Enjolras' face immediately faltered. "Is something wrong?" He hesitated. "Should I have left it?" 
And despite the fact that his mind was clouded over in a haze of resentment at the mention of Maxence, he still had enough of it in him that he couldn't stand the way Enjolras' lips pulled down at the corners. He forced a smile on his lips as he strained to say, "No, why would you ever think that? Your mind, Enjolras, I swear I don't know where you get your ideas from sometimes, it's unreal--"
"Grantaire," Enjolras interrupted. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question. 
But Grantaire himself had never been one for answering what had been asked of him, so instead he smirked a little this time and lightly squeezed Enjolras' hand still held in his own. 
Sighing, he could tell Enjolras knew there was no point in pursuing a topic he knew he wouldn't get answers to, so instead he shifted and moved Grantaire head up off his pillow so he could instead lie his head in Enjolras' lap. He let out a contented sigh and burrowed closer as he felt his boyfriend's hand slip into his curls, stroking softly.
"Combeferre and Courfeyrac really need to sort things out," Enjolras murmured quietly. "I swear I'm going to lose it with the pining in that house. It's thick enough to--"
"To cut with a knife?" he finished lazily. Enjolras hummed an affirmative.
"Exactly. I mean, how any two fools can be this oblivious I have no clue. Courfeyrac keeps going out of his way to do all these things for Combeferre, and while I generally don't like using this phrase because of the way it tends to imply that romantic relationships are somehow superior to platonic ones even though that's not true at all, it's clear to anyone that Courfeyrac's trying to show he thinks of Combeferre as maybe more than a friend, and I don't know how Combeferre--who himself is clearly in love with Courfeyrac!--can miss them, I mean the gestures are clear enough--"
He hummed distractedly, too taken with the way Enjolras' hand felt in his hair. "Like the way Maxence drives you around all the time?" 
The hand in his hair stopped stroking abruptly. "What?" 
Grantaire peaked his eyes open in confusion before shutting them closed again, wondering why Enjolras stopped before the memory of the last few seconds struck him hard enough to make his eyes fly open once more as he realized what he said. 
"Wait, no, I--"
"Why does that matter?" 
He glanced away nervously, only to find once he looked back at his boyfriend, that Enjolras didn't look angry or even miffed. If anything, there seemed to be a hint of a smile playing at his lips. 
His throat dried; he wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to react. "I…" 
Enjolras tilted his head, peering into his eyes with a sort of intensity it seemed only he possessed, though offset just the slightest bit by the way he seemed to be biting back a smile. "What's wrong with that? In fact, it's better when considering carpooling is a good choice to reduce emissions--though not the best way, mind you--and it saves time too. I don't see what's wrong. Maybe it's his vehicle?"
"Enjolras--"
"Or maybe--wait!" Enjolras' grin broke out in full this time. "OH you're jealous!"
Grantaire let out a long-suffering groan. "You're going to tease me about it?" 
Enjolras made a dramatic show of thinking. "Well," he started, "if I did tease you, you would kind of deserve it for being stupid enough to be jealous of someone I clearly see as a friend." 
"Well he clearly sees you as much more than that," he muttered darkly in reply. 
Enjolras pulled a hand through his hair, though this time was more to call attention to his eyes once more. "I know that, Grantaire. And I've been meaning to talk to him about it, too," he said softly.
His eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "Wait, you--?" 
"I'm not entirely oblivious, you know," he continued with a hint of amusement. "I know that he's been… trying to get past the territory of friendship. But of course, I'm not exactly looking for that with him. And I'm going to talk to him about it soon." He paused for a second before continuing on, "You, however, should comfort yourself with the trust that I hope you have in me, enough to know I wouldn't be dishonest to you in that kind of way ever."
He sighed. "I know. I don't doubt you, I just…" he trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence, even if he could recognize the emotions swirling around in his head. 
Enjolras cupped his cheek, and he gazed above into his face, an expression so gentle it almost made one wonder how it could turn severe, though it did happen on occasion. "We'll talk about this later, but we will talk about it," is all he said. 
"I'm sorry." 
Enjolras leaned forward, his curls reaching low enough to tickle Grantaire's forehead. "You are forgiven," he whispered before pressing a soft kiss to his skin.  
Grantaire closed his eyes took a moment to revel in the feeling of Enjolras' lips on his skin, humming in content for the while they lingered, and attempting to stifle his disappointment when he drew back. Of course, his attempts were no good and Enjolras laughed.
"Too quick?" he asked, teasing. Grantaire opened his eyes once more and grinned. 
"Always too quick. Would it be too fast to ask for another?" 
"That depends." Enjolras scratched softly at his head. "What's the magic word?" 
Grantaire's grin grew. "Magic words, you mean. All hail Feuilly our saviour."
Enjolras let out a surprised laugh. "While that is true, it wasn't what I was looking for." He shrugged his shoulders and smiled down at him mischievously. "Looks like no kiss for you--"
"No!" he interrupted. Enjolras' laughs grew more vibrant, making Grantaire soften at the sight of it. "Please?" 
"Hm. Please what?" Enjolras continued to tease. 
"Please just kiss me already."
This time, when Enjolras' lips kissed his own, he could feel the way they stretched into a smile, prompting Grantaire to smile into the kiss too. 
When Enjolras drew back, Grantaire had thought he had never seen quite so lovely a sight in so long. If Enjolras at his most fiery was like the radiance of the bright sun, then at his gentleness he had to be the soft colours of the morning's dawn. 
And for Grantaire, who had for so long seen only dark night, it was surely a most beautiful sight. One that ought not to be corrupted with a toxicity such as jealousy.
"I think I'm in love with you," he muttered in amazement. 
At that, Enjolras' smile simply grew even more dazzling.
"I'd sure hope so, or this engagement ring you bought me really would have been a bit of a waste," his fiance said, joy evident in his speech. "But know that I love you too."
66 notes · View notes
chibiwritesstuff · 4 years ago
Note
Hey! May I ask for Malleus and Lilia being hesitate to start a relationship with the mc because of their long life span? And also welcome to the fandom!
Σ(°ロ°) You probably didn't ask for angst but this is just such a good angst prompt and I LOVE writing angst more than anything so I hope you don’t mind. I might have gone overboard with it though. If you do want a happy ending instead don’t hesitate to tell me! Thank you! Everybody’s so nice in this fandom.
Also, stan Lilia. Man, I simp for this old man so much.
Pairings: Malleus Draconia x Reader, Lilia Vanrouge x Reader.
Now, let’s depart enter this twisted wonderland~
Tumblr media
“Tsunotaro, I think I have fallen for you.” You quietly said warmth spreading across your cheeks. “Will you let me stay by your side till the last breath I take?”
That was a few nights ago, and he left you without giving a reply. Instead of saying anything, he instead returned to the confines of his room and hid. While Sebek was glad he’s back Lilia sensed something in him that he asked the younger fae to leave the future king be. Now, all he can do is watch you from afar as you share your smiles and laughs with your peers from Heartslabyul.
Oh, how I miss hearing that laugh of yours… He can’t but think as he kept his gaze at you.
You two stopped meeting each other ever since. Well, more like you change your course of direction the next night you saw each other. He can remember clearly how tired your eyes look, how you’re ready to cry one more second you stay in his presence. You merely bowed your head and walked straight in Ramshackle Dorm.
“Lilia, what should I do?” He cried that night. “My only friend, the only one who understands me outside of our family… has left me.”
“Humans are quite delicate creatures, Malleus.” The older fae answered, pity evident in his eyes. “From the sound of it, the trust that you two have has been severed from your actions.”
“I want to stay by their side, I want to keep talking to them, laugh with them.” He continued wallowing in his sorrow as he remembers all the times you two spent on each other's side.
“Tell me, Malleus.” Lilia made him sit upright and face him eye to eye. “Do you reciprocate their love?”
It's not that he doesn’t return your feelings, far from it. He loves you more than anything in the world. Yet, the thought of him living on as you age and eventually dying scares him. He’s tired of being left behind, of losing things he deeply cares for and living on without them by his side. Fears that clouded his judgment that night which lead to the pain twisting in his heart for not being able to be near you anymore.
Time is but a blink of an eye for his species but who would have thought that it could feel this agonizingly slow as well. What he thought had been years already is merely but a day… without you by his side. Just one conversation, that’s all he wants. He wants the normalcy of his days with you to be back. So, imagine his joy when you approached him with a smile once more.
“Tsuno – I mean, Malleus.” He frowned when you refrained to use the name you had lovingly given him. The pain in his chest returning even greater than before. “I have great news to share.”
“No need to call me by my name. You’re more than welcome to call me Tsunotaro as you please.” Please, call me Tsunotaro again. Call me with that love you have for me. “What is this news?”
“Crowley has found a way to send me back home!” You grinned as he felt his heart shatter into pieces, eyes widening in disbelief. “I can finally go back home! Everybody’s heading to the Hall of Mirrors to send me off.”
“Is that so…” He can't breathe. The pain is too much even though you’re finally talking to him again…you’re smiling at him again. “Then allow me to send you off as well.”
“Alright! Let’s go then!” You took his hand and guided him to your destination.
How warm. He can’t help but think so. I would love to hold your hand forever and never let you go.
You two arrived and you let go of his hand to greet the others. Farewell speeches were made, tight embraces, and souvenirs from each dorm handed to you. You grinned as you accepted everything given to you. Alas, it’s time for you to leave and you stepped in the mirror. The moment you’re gone, the mirror cracked, signifying that your departure is a point of no return here. He stood still as everybody slowly left the Hall of Mirrors until he’s the only one left. His eyes began watering as everything that happened finally sinks in. The now cracked mirror mockingly reflecting his broken image. You left, returned to your world facing forward with a bittersweet smile… and he let you go without answering your confession.
“Then the least you can do is give her closure.”
“(y/n), I too have fallen deeply in love with you…” Tears flowed endlessly as he gave his reply to no one. “So please…”
Will you stay by my side till the last breath you take?
Tumblr media
“Isn't it better to have a few years filled with love than have a lifetime worth of what-ifs?” You cried as he rejected your confession to him before running away towards your dorm.
“(y/n), it's nice seeing you here.” Lilia’s smile faltered a little as you hesitantly smiled back before leaving as fast as you can.
Day by day, you both tried to initiate conversations with each other without being too tense. He can tell how you’re forcing yourself to talk to him like nothing happened and it hurts the both of you. Both wanting the pain to end yet now willing to let go of what little interaction you have. He tried to distract himself by performing his duties as Diasomnia’s vice-leader, cooking food, even go as far as reading history books that he knew the true version of said history. All to dull the pain he feels as soon as his thoughts drift towards you.
Why did you have to have such a short lifespan? He kept asking himself as he leafed through a book he’s holding. I would love nothing more but to stay by your side and start a family. A simple life with you… how nice it sounds.
But he can’t fathom the idea of existing without you by his side once your time in the world expires. He’s more than happy to love you with all his being but he can’t help but hesitate as he thinks of the future ahead of you two. A few more days have passed and the two of you had officially stopped talking to one another. It was merely by chance that he spotted you talking with his son. He was on his way towards the light music club room to distract himself once more. Against his better judgment, he eavesdropped at your conversation with Silver.
“I envy you, Silver.” You spoke with such sadness that Silver can’t help but pat your head. “Despite you being human as well, Lilia chose to keep you by his side.”
“He truly does love you,” He reassured as you slowly began to shed tears. “He just doesn’t want to live without you by his side when the time comes.”
“And look at what happened instead.” You scoffed as you wiped your tears harshly. “I can’t even bear talking to him without being reminded that I’m not important enough to be able to stand by his side till my last days.”
“(y/n)…”
“I thought since he has you, he knew that this will happen and he’d rather treasure those few years with people he loves than just leaving them be.” Your eyes, tired and dull from the emotions swirling in your heart and mind. “Tell me, am I too foolish for clinging on that little hope back then?”
“No, you only followed what you felt was right.” He dropped his hand to his lap and looked down the ground. “Sometimes things just don’t happen the way we want it.”
“Thank you, Silver. No offense on your situation with Lilia though.” You smiled in defeat before standing up and dust off your clothing. “Please do keep your promise to me.”
“As much as I’m against it, I understand.” Silver sighed as he stood up as well. “Farewell, (y/n). Please don’t forget about us when you return home.”
Lilia froze as hopelessness settled in him. You’re leaving not just him but everybody else. He silently left the area and walked aimlessly as his feet somehow managed to bring him back to his room. His body felt colder than ever, body stiff and eyes wide at the realization of his fears. His fears of you leaving him behind as he will keep living his immortal life. Except, instead of through death, you’ll return to where you truly belong.
But, you also belong by my side…right?
He can’t help but laugh bitterly at his situation. He knew this would happen one day. He accepted this since that dreadful day he rejected you. So why…
“You’re right, (y/n).” For the first time in his immortal life, he shed tears and let out a scream of agony.
I’d rather spend a few years filled with love with you than live my immortal life filled with what-ifs about what we could have been.
429 notes · View notes
chillwithaster · 3 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
SUMMARY: “Wo ho ho there, Kaedehara, where do you think you’re going?” Venti and Xiao moved to grip each of his wrists. If Kazuha had not known any better, he would think they were shackles by how deathly their holds were.
Venti gave him a light smile. As if he’s going to let this bleach-streaked, toothpaste-hogger fiend anywhere close to his date to the-
“Your date?” Xiao started.
Whoops, did he say that out loud?
RELATIONSHIPS : Albedo/Kong | Aether (Genshin Impact) || Kong | Aether/Xiao | Alatus (Genshin Impact || Kong | Aether/Venti (Genshin Impact) || Kaedehara Kazuha/Kong | Aether
Please consider supporting me on Ko-fi because im kind of in a need for extra cash to help out my family during the pandemic ! every little bit helps and I'm giving out incentives for donations ! A dollar for a personalized reviewer and study guide or a genshin fanfiction of your choice !
AO3
“Well, this is most unfortunate.”
Venti could already feel the caffeine in his systems fuel his flight-or-fight response as he saw not one but two of his roommates standing outside the library.
He really needed a drink and pronto.
This was supposed to be his shining moment; the ballad to end all ballads; the righteous bard’s claim to a golden prince’s heart after their loveless rendezvous.
Venti had finally gotten the courage to ask Aether out to the Ludi Harpastum Dance – one of the most anticipated events in the entirety of their university. It was known as a Mondstadtian custom that he himself absolutely adored for its flowers, games, cuisines, and especially romantic atmosphere.
It was going to be perfect, really.
But no, Barbatos above and mighty, these – unsultry fiends decided to rain over such a wonderful parade.
“Agreed.” He shot a half-hearted glare at the white-haired male next to him, who had decided to dress-up from his usual plain tees and jeans.
Instead, Kazuha was wearing a half-buttoned black blazer (one that Venti swore was his, mind you) with black skinny jeans and a white polo-shirt. His hair was tied tighter than his usual lopsided ponytail, and Venti swore the other’s glasses had never been cleaner.
Now, though Venti was quite ecstatic to see his friend out of his usual horrendous fashion-style, he was visibly irked by the bouquet of Carnations in Kazuha’s arms.
“Move. You’re blocking the entrance.” The other two broke from their staring contest to find slitted amber hues.
For as long as Venti knew Xiao, even the Contemporary Music major knew his roommate looked good in a turtleneck.
And unfortunately for him, Xiao knew that too.  
Sporting a sleeveless dark green turtleneck and a black leather jacket fastened firmly around his waist, Xiao glared from behind the brown, large toy dragon plushie he was hugging.
“Uh excuse me.” Venti chirped, a hand to his hip to assert his dominance as their senior. “I was here first, mind you. Now buzz off.”
Xiao cocked a brow at him. “Don’t tell me you’re bringing in food to a library.”
The braided boy gawked at him before guiltily looking down at the two boxes of doughnuts in his hands. Boxed in pastel green and white, his warm, delicious, better than what his other roommates could ever bake in their entire life, homemade desserts stared back in shame at the thought of being left behind.
“Of course not!”
Kazuha and Xiao did not believe him.
“Of course…” The Inazuman began before moving past Venti. “Now please excuse me, I need to speak with-“
“Wo ho ho there, Kaedehara, where do you think you’re going?” Venti and Xiao moved to grip each of his wrists. If Kazuha had not known any better, he would think they were shackles by how deathly their holds were.
Venti gave him a light smile. As if he’s going to let this bleach-streaked, toothpaste-hogger fiend anywhere close to his date to the-
“Your date?” Xiao started.
Whoops, did he say that out loud?
Venti turned to his supposed ally as he released Kazuha’s hand. However, despite his fumble, the Cheshire grin on his lips still slashed through. “Yeah. My date to the Ludi Harpastum Dance.”
If looks could kill, Venti would be six feet under.
“Isn’t it quite bold of you to assume he’d want … you?” Kazuha began, scanning him up and down.
“I am offended!” Damn, the senior could feel ten years being subtracted from his time on earth. “And yes I do! Unlike both of you, I’ve known Aether the longest. From all the way ever since he moved here, so that makes me his best friend.”
The other two were not convinced.
“Yeah. Friend.” Venti wanted to hurl something hard into Xiao’s smirk. “And aren’t you more mature than that? For such an old man, you’d think you’d be past using the length of a relationship to measure its worth.”
“I agree with Xiao.” Kazuha hissed from behind, and Venti almost held a high grin at knowing why he was so defensive. Kazuha only had a month in his little pool of Aether interactions, so he knew he stood no chance if that was the criterion. “One’s closeness mustn’t be measured by how much – but rather how well – that time spent together was.”
Venti rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever.”
Honestly, he had not expected this. Especially not from these two.
Venti had always assumed that Xiao wanted nothing to do with relationships, especially since Xiao had made it quite crystal clear to anyone that had tried making moves on him that he was not interested. Same goes for Kazuha, who seemed to be more inclined to pour his focus into his studies in Literature rather than pursuing a love life.
But alas, here they are.
“Excuse me.” The three snap out of their heated staring contest to find a mop of kempt blond hair behind them.
Albedo stared at the three suspicious figures with a raised brow. As the junior librarian of the campus, it was his job to make sure students were not loitering outside to cause a mess.
“You’re keeping others from entering. If you have no business here, could you please go back to your dormitories.” His eyes shift to the pastries in Venti’s arms. “No food inside.”
Venti could just hear the snickers from behind him.
“Right, of course.” He started. “Sorry, Albedo.”
The three would have moved to allow the blond entrance had Kazuha not seen the striking figure painted diligently on the canvas in Albedo’s arm.
“Wait.” The albino held a hand to Albedo’s shoulder. “That painting…”
The bright crimson on Albedo’s cheeks was already a dead giveaway.
Venti and Xiao stopped in horror before peering over Albedo’s shoulder. Ah shit.
Drawn with the precision only the famed Kreideprinz could attain was a figure basked in golden locks. The figure’s face was turned away ever so slightly from the viewer, framed by light bangs as soft eyes gazed longingly into the sunset behind them. But even without seeing any other details, the two already knew who this was.
Suddenly, a plushie and a batch of doughnuts just felt sad.
Albedo turned to face the trio, shamefully hiding the portrait behind his figure.
“You like Aether?” Venti began.
“Yes, and what of it?” Albedo brought his jacket’s sleeve to his mouth, covering the bright blush he was harboring. “I don’t believe that I have any reason to be quite ashamed of such…and for you to be so scrutinizing…”
The three stared at him like kicked puppies.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
Albedo stopped and looked at the gifts in their hands.
“Ah.”
The weight of the situation just immediately dawned on the four.
“It seems the captor of ours hearts knows no restraint.” Kazuha sighed wistfully.
Xiao said nothing, but a nod was sufficient.
“…Are you all here to also ask him to the dance?” Albedo leaned on the door.
Even without an answer, he already knew.
“We can’t just go in there.” Xiao sighed. “It’ll end in a disaster, trust me.”
“But we cannot just let such an opportunity pass.” Venti saw how Kazuha was almost ready to barge in the doors for himself.
“Right, right, calm down there, he’s not going anywhere.” Venti offered.
Albedo moved to turn around, and the three watched him peer through the library’s wooden doors.
There seated amongst several stacks of books was their culprit. Aether had a textbook over his head and a whale pillow under his folded arms. With how slow his chest was rising, the four knew he was asleep.
“I should scold him next time. The library is not his bedroom.” Albedo smiled fondly at the figure, and the other three could only stare in defeat.
There was no way they could just barge in there and disturb his peace like that. Especially not when he looks so exhausted. Aether would just be overwhelmed by all their invitations, and the last thing they wanted was to be a burden to their beloved.
“So, now what?” Venti moved out of the way, glancing in confusion at the other three.
Kazuha and Xiao shared a look, but it was Albedo that first opened his mouth.
“We should take him to a date. A proper one. One from each of us. And one where we could help him alleviate his stress and show him a good time.”
The three stopped in consideration.
Albedo continued. “Think about it. He’s quite exhausted. If our feelings for him are genuine, then we should be willing to console him when he needs us the most. And only then – perhaps -  he can decide who he wishes to take to the dance.”
Venti had wished his first date with Aether were under different circumstances.
But at the same time…he isn’t against the thought of spoiling Aether silly. Even if it is shared sentimentally with three other people.
After a moment, it was Kazuha that gave an opinion. “But we should set ground rules. If the purpose of this date to help Aether unwind, it is imperative that none of us ask him to the dance.”
“Why?” Xiao crossed his arms. “Then wouldn’t that just render our dates pointless?”
“Not quite.” Kazuha offered a smile. “Aether’s happiness should come first.”
Xiao agreed in a heartbeat.
“Okay, let’s go with that.” Venti smiled at the prospect.
Yeah, Aether’s happiness is the topmost priority. And if none of them could provide that for Aether, then Venti thinks that none of them (himself included) are worthy of Aether’s kindness!
“But…” His thoughts blank. “Can I go last?”
“Why?” Albedo raised a brow.
“My paycheck doesn’t come until next Thursday.”
If his peers had one thing in common, it was how stupid they could make someone feel just by staring.
“I had to cut back time for my classes, okay? Sheesh!” Venti argued.
“Then that’s settled.” Albedo sighed.
“May I go first?” Kazuha offered, and though none of the other males seemed to object, Xiao was quick to reply with a sharp ‘why’. The albino bashfully chuckled. “There is a musical I have been meaning to bring him to that is in three days. It would be a shame to miss it.”
There were no objections.
Albedo raised an open palm, only to be met with several blank stares.
“A form of contract. May the best man win.”
The blonds lips were quirked upward slightly, and though apprehensive, Venti shook his hand.
Venti wasn’t the smartest person, but he wasn’t dumb either.
He may not know a lot when it comes to studies, but he knows one thing.
When these three wanted something, they would break the earth just to get their way.
“Indeed! May the winds guide you in your endeavor.”
But it also takes one to know one.
34 notes · View notes
socketz · 4 years ago
Text
Johnny Depp x Female!Reader
Indulge Me.
Tumblr media
Type : Fluff! (with a wee bit of Angst thrown in there)
Warnings : Internal conflict, swearing, kissing (pretty detailed, though nothing overly sexual), a little alcohol consumption I suppose, and that’s all. It’s super fluffy! 
Word Count : 6.3k (kinda short, I know :/ my bad) 
Request : Not Requested.
Summary : Johnny x Female!Reader, where they have been close friends for a super long time, and the reader (you!) has slowly developed feelings for him. A confession, a walk, and a sweet, slow, kiss, in the rain. 
Authors Note : I don’t know why I got the urge to do this, but I started writing and simply did not stop, so here we are. I thought it turned out quite cute, although it is very cliche :) Also, Johnny is not famous in this, though it’s set in like ‘91, or ‘90. He’s just a really sexy regular guy, I suppose. That’s all :) Enjoy!
Indulge Me, Johnny Depp x Female!Reader
There was truly something about him - about Johnny - that you simply could not place. The two of you had been friends, strictly friends, for almost too long to remember, and it seemed that with every passing moment either of your spent, swaddled in each other’s company, that relationship merely grew. It manifested, and developed, so incredibly, yet entirely unnoticed, by both Johnny, and yourself. It was incredible, really, that such a friendship could hinder quite so rapidly, and seemingly only for one participant. 
You didn’t mean to begin noticing the little things, the details, about him. Like the way he smiled, so incredibly gentle and uplifting - contagious, you could argue - or the way he would change, so naturally, when around you, in comparison to that of everybody else. His laugh would grow louder, freer, and his voice would amplify; no longer riddled with nerves and a sense of timidness. Comfort, you supposed, was a factor he allowed himself to become engulfed by, whenever you were present, and you certainly liked it. You began noticing the way he would touch you, tender, and cautious, or the way he held your hand - merely due to instinct, he would always blame, though your butterflies wished it something else - and the way he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, when you complained for the cool breeze, never once bothered by your close proximity. You noticed the way his eyes could light up, and he would smile something small; ridden with joy, for no particular reason at all. You noticed that his hair was longer, now, and that it fell to a messy central parting, digits consistently brushing it from his gaze - you liked the way he styled his hair, you decided, and it was so soft - so tender. You began to notice the way he treated you, so polite, yet bitterly brutal when his jokes played themselves around. You noticed things that you probably shouldn’t have, and, well, such an inconvenience caused a severe disruption to your whole mechanism. 
At first, you thought it to be an illness of some sort. The stomach churns - the best kind, as you later discovered - and the butterflies, the tingle between your thighs. Am I sick? You began to think, as you checked yourself for a temperature. Alas, there was nothing but a flush of embarrassment to your reddened cheeks, and a heavy sensation within your chest, as you supposed that it would all disburse within a matter of days. 
Well, a couple of days came, and went, and things had only gotten worse. 
You began to dream of him, and, admittedly, you enjoyed them - of course you did - but it only made your face-to-face discussions an almighty difficult task to partake in. The butterflies ascended into a trail of breathtaking tingles, ignited by the slightest touch, and a sense of fire ruptured within your throat - it was so difficult to say the things you wanted to say, when your infatuation threatened to spill from your tongue at any given moment, and his beautifully chocolate gaze held you so captivated, so numbingly, to your place. He rendered you silent, your mind falling blank, with a simple smile, or a glance. Pathetic! That’s what you’d call it. Utterly pathetic. And, realistically, you knew it would only grow worse, the longer you decided to repress such information from your closest companion - and apparent lover, in your emotions’ eyes - but you simply couldn’t find it in you, not at all, to utter such simple words.  
They could do so much damage - undo so many memories! And ruin everything. Maybe you were simply paranoid - maybe you were driven by utmost fear - but romance seemed so terribly painful, and you weren’t entirely sure if you could handle the way it would end. After all, everything good must come to something bad, right? Perhaps it was just the way your childhood played out, between lies and heartbreak, separation and loneliness, and fear and rejection - or maybe you were right. Maybe everything people were taught, all that they would read, about love, and about fictional infatuation, was just that - fiction. Maybe true love didn’t exist, and the books had it all wrong. Though that would not explain the thin sheen of sweat, glistening something noticeable upon your forehead. 
You were nervous, to say the least.  
The seven o’clock News displayed upon your television, igniting the darkened room in an expanding, blue, illumination, and you nibbled your nails somewhat anxiously, thoughts engulfing the surrounding buzz of the visual journalism - not that you ever paid it any mind, anyway. You always found the News boring - they reported nothing but shit, and you made sure to voice such an opinion, whenever Johnny would force you to watch it. “It’s educational!” He would laugh, gripping onto your hips and forcing you upon his lap. Of course, it was only something playful, and his arms would snake around your waist, chin against your shoulder. It was comfortable, you could never deny, but the News was still ever-boring and droning. 
Though, now, it seemed appropriate. You were far too nervous to concentrate on anything in particular, like a gameshow, or something of the sort. Even the soccer seemed far too involving for you. 
After all, today was the day you finally relieved yourself of such a weighty secret. You could hardly contain yourself any longer, and you were growing tired of the worried glances Johnny would throw your way, when you flinched from his burning touch, or paused mid-sentence, struggling to find your gasped breath. God, it was all so embarrassing. You hoped sincerely that it wouldn’t render something awkward, or differentiate your friendship, in any which way, but you were certain it was all one sided, and just wouldn’t be the same after. Perhaps he already knew, and was attempting to ignore such a thing, as best he could, and for that, you practically worshiped his ability to handle difficult situations lightheartedly. Or maybe he was as entirely clueless as he seemed to be, and it would be as awkward as you could picture the whole ordeal going. 
Either way, you needed to say something, before it accidentally slipped within a regular conversation, and ruined everything. You attempted to reason with yourself, that if things truly did turn bitterly awful, at least tonight there would be pizza and wine, to salvage your mortification, and- 
The soft jingle of metal echoed, distant, yet alarming, throughout the quiet and dim apartment. Scuttling, your hands grasped the remote control, muting the television in a rapid and almost panicked manner, breathing laboured and uneven. You weren’t ready - you definitely weren’t ready. You couldn’t do this - tell him how you felt, that is. How the hell would you even go about it? It wasn’t the kind of thing you could just bring up- 
“They didn’t have any of that wine you like.” He sighed. You froze, rigid in your seat. “I got somethin’ else,” He trailed, “Doesn’t have a brand, I don’t think.” Two rustling bags settled in place before you, his keys landed with a loud crash upon the glass surface, jacket shrugged upon the ground with a sudden waft of cool breeze. Johnny glanced toward you, as he slumped hastily upon the sofa, booted feet kicked out before him. “What’s up?” He mumbled, his eyes fluttered to a gentle close, eyebrows furrowed gently. 
“Nothing.” You said. How great of a lie it surely was, though you refused to blurt your confession aloud just yet. 
An eyebrow raised, doubtful for your unconvincing reply, as a gentle grin teetered to the corner of his lips, and, oh, didn’t he look pretty. “C’mon,” He teased, “What’s up with you?” A finger jabbed to your side - an extraordinarily ticklish disposition for yourself - and you squirmed instinctively, a certain warmth engulfing your chest at the familiarity of that supple smirk. 
“Really,” You persisted, “It’s nothing.” A breathy chuckle falling from upon your quiet tongue. “Have you tried that wine before?” You could confess your adoration for the poor man amidst the meal, though for now, it could wait. 
“Uh-” He frowned, the quiver of a smile to trace his gaze.“No.” He said. 
A subtle laugh dripped from your throat, gently shaking your head, as you mumbled a witty response. “Am I surprised, Jonathan?” To which he scoffed, his gorgeously depthful eyes rolling, and shone you a wickedly charming smile. 
“Guess not.” He muttered, a beat of comfortable quiet to drift you both by. “You’re watching the News?” He then added, a furrow to draw his eyebrows closer; glance fluttered between yourself and the blare of the silenced television, projecting utter bullshit as it went - ever-the-regular, you could argue. 
You simply nodded, “I am.” You said, somewhat a grin to upturn the crevices of your expression. A soft round of laughter fell from the man beside you, and you found your breath stuttered within the depth of your throat. It was an angelic muse, really, and thus you found yourself unable to conjure a furtherly coherent - never mind advanced - response, the simple two words proving enough for his bemused self. 
“But you fucking hate the News.” He scoffed. “Why the hell are you watching it?” 
A subtle giggle left your throat, and you snatched the lip of the bag before you, eager to indulge within the gorgeously scented - and warm - food. “Shut up, Johnny.” You said, a gentle smile to follow, “What’d you get?” 
“I don’t know.” He smirked, “Somethin’ meaty, I think.” 
“Of course,” You sighed, unable - quite - to dislodge the grin upon your rosy cheeks. “I mean, why would you know the pizza you ordered, right?” 
“Precisely.” He smiled, “I’m thrilled you understand.”
“Always a pleasure.” You simply said, for your mind had distilled something blank, useless, and your words had seemed to fail you. The sofa was old, it was desperate, clinging on to the stitching hardly reliable, but it was comfortable. It was familiar.  Johnny, and yourself, had refused to refurbish it - those cushions had been with you both, from the very first night. Roommates, you were. And simply the best kind. But there truly was something so tragic about a romantically tinted friendship, no matter for whom the sufferer seemed to be. 
Johnny latched upon the large pizza box, throwing it open, and - unsurprisingly - knocking the wine glasses with a greatly shrill ring, their clink a subtle jump. They wobbled, slowly, though regained their posture, and you found your shoulders slumping to a tender slouch. “Idiot.” You muttered, a certain fondness about your breath, as he merely smirked, and picked up a stringy-cheesed slice, mauling the triangular corner with not but an ounce of grace. 
A shimmer of grease coaxed the pout of his peachy lips, cheeks bulged with bread, and with toppings; over-loaded and particularly Johnny. Meats of various kinds - various shades - littered upon the excessive amounts of cheese. “Did you order extra cheese?” You mumbled. The man nodded, a wolfish grin to reciprocate his childish gaze, and you merely breathed a subtle chuckle. Of course, you thought; of course he did. 
You reached for the wine, popping the cork with a slight groan, and you poured a tester within the clear glaze of the bowled glass. You raised the edge to your mouth, took a sip, and smacked your lips. “Not bad.” You uttered, decidedly enjoying the rich tang of fruity combustion, flat and coiling, upon your tongue. You poured the glass full, hardly a centimeter from the brim, and you took a rather large gulp, quite liking the flavour, as it trickled upon the back of your throat, and you sat back, nestled within the comfortable cushions of the wondrously aged sofa. It was almost moulded to your body; for you always sat on the right, and Johnny, the left. 
A comfortable silence embraced you both, and you found yourself almost wishing it could remain undisturbed - you couldn’t find it in you, no matter how hard you probed, to conjure any kind of courage at all. Your knees, they felt weak, and your stomach churned uneasily - entirely disagreeing with the digested mouthful, as you rammed the corner of a pizza slice within your mouth, and you chewed slowly, cheeks beginning to rise in temperature. How the fuck would you even go about it all? ‘Oh, by the way, Johnny, I’m entirely in love with you, and I lose myself every time we touch!’ It sounded ridiculous. There was no possible way you could simply blurt out such a destructive sentence. You weren’t even sure if your feelings were real! They had just bothered you, and you feared that they’d somehow escape the breach of your lips, and flutter around, utterly unnoticed. Goodness, it was terrifying. 
“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, or are we gonna sit here in silence?” Johnny said, a light amusement to simmer upon his tone. You gulped, swallowing a particularly dry mouthful, and your muscles seized up. 
Surely this was the perfect opportunity, no? “Well…” You trailed. You did not want to ruin everything you’d worked so effortlessly to build with each other. Maybe you were just being silly, and your feelings were hardly potent at all. Maybe it was all dramatic, and you were fine. Maybe it was an exaggeration, and the entire thing was meaningless, and- “I think I’m in love with you.” You blurted. Fuck. Fuck, fucking fuck! Your eyes clamped shut, and you loathed the white noise. You could hope that he hadn’t heard you, though he wasn’t chewing, anymore, and he seemed suddenly rigid beside you. That was certainly a way to go about it, you scolded, wishing - with a burning detestation - that the sofa would swallow you whole. 
Say something, you begged, silent, and to yourself, as the quiet continued on. He shifted, and you froze - furtherly, if apparently possible. You daren’t share a glance with his gaze, fixated upon your burning mortification, as another gentle bite snuck between your lips. You chewed, and you chewed, a soft shimmer of sweat beginning to accumulate upon your brow - how foolish you had been, to admit such a thing, in that kind of way. “What was that?” He muttered. Shit! His throat was tight, you could hear the subtle restriction, and tone low, quiet. Don’t make me say it again, you thought, a volumed gulp to follow such a ponderous moment. Please, don’t make me say it again. 
“I’m sorry.” You sighed. Goodness, was it always supposed to be quite so difficult? Something began to wedge within the base of your throat, aching substantially, as the rising sensation of freshly salted tears began its ascent. Were you really going to cry? “I didn’t-” The voice caught in your throat, hindered by that ever-growing lump. God, you really hated this. “I didn’t mean to.” You didn’t mean to ruin your friendship, and everything in between, for a stupid confession that held you to the brink of fucking tears. 
More shuffling was to be heard, and you noticed his hands swiftly maneuvering the - now closed - pizza box, delicately dropping the white board upon the coffee table, no longer perched between you, and him. His gaze burned upon your expression, and your cheeks flamed scarlet, glare locked unwaveringly upon the television, slightly glazed with something fearful. You truly didn’t want to lose him - to have him laugh in the face of your affection, and turn you away. And although you knew the let down would be gentle  - it was Johnny, afterall, and there was hardly a bad bone in his body - you anticipated the worst. “Y/N,” He said.You gulped. A sigh escaped his lips, and he maneuvered the pizza slice from within your subtle grip, sneaking a quick bite as he went, and placed it quietly upon the table. “Y/N.” He tried again. You turned to face him, hesitant in yourself. His expression was gentle, the comforting kind of soft, and the corner of his lips lightly fluttered to the ghost of a smirk. “What are you crying for?” He scoffed, the grin simply growing as he spoke. “Don’t cry, Love.” You had hardly noticed the slip of a few salty confessions, as a soft laugh fell from your lips, hands roughly ragging upon the moist complexion. Pathetic, you thought, you were so fucking pathetic. “Come ‘ere.” He said. Your eyebrows drew together, glance unsure and lightly confused. He was so calm, and seemingly unphased by your confession - you couldn’t quite understand it. 
He rolled his eyes, the tilt of amusement to pepper his cheeks, and he grasped your upper arm, dragging you along the short distance of the sofa. You slumped into his side, another giggle trickling from your tear-tangled throat, his arm engulfing you in a tight embrace; one along your shoulder, and the other curled upon your waist. You rested your head on his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat subtle and calming, and he shuffled about, gradually withholding a lying position, yourself flatly placed along his front. “I’m sorry.” You repeated, a light sigh to accompany the apology. You meant it, really, you did. It was never truly your intention to adapt to such feelings, to succumb to your attraction - he just made it so fucking difficult, with those beautifully brown orbs, and a smile filled with the brightest kinds of sunshine. 
“Please don’t apologise.” He said. A short silence followed, and - perhaps it was simply an imaginational malfunction - you thought the rhythm of his heart rate differentiated, though only for a fleeting moment. “Did you mean it?” He whispered, tone soft; hesitant. 
A gentle frown caressed the bow of your expression, and you tilted such to face him, his features crossed handsomely with a sense of slight worry. Of course you had meant it - why on earth would you lie for such a thing? “Yeah.” You said. His gaze flickered between your eyes, a whir of doubt embracing the warm stare, and his tender wrap upon your frame squeezed for a passing moment. The hint of a smile glazed his orbs, a certain light suddenly rupturing within their mocha tone, and the corners of his mouth twitched a feathered smirk. 
“Oh, yeah?” He said. 
Your eyes rolled, seemingly still slightly dampened by your emotional concern. “Yes, Johnny.” You said. 
“Ah, right,” He muttered, grin widening to that of something toothy, and warm. “See, I thought I was going crazy.” He craned his neck to the slightest degree, gaze dropping momentarily to your parted lips, before springing back up, a twinkle of mischief to glaze his eyes. “I thought,” His tongue darted gently, dampening the flush of his lips, and you found yourself staring with a tingle of a blush - God. Your thighs began to ache, camped tightly together, at such a marvellous sight. “There’s no fucking way,” He continued, slowly, as his tone simmered to that of a tender whisper. “That the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known, could fall in love with me.” 
Beautiful. Beautiful, he had said. Beautiful! He thought you were beautiful! Your heart stuttered, and a furrow found your eyebrows, consciously aware of the circular trail, lightly peppered upon your waist by his wandering fingers. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You said, a mere mumble beneath your gaze of adoration and concern. What was wrong with loving him? 
A breathy laugh escaped his lips, the simmer of amusement and amorous repentance dancing within his stare. “Well, why me?” He said, “You could choose anyone.” He shrugged, “Kenny, from that corner store. Andrew - you know, Andy, the one that makes the cakes all the time?” You merely nodded, albeit speechless as to his rambling. “And what about Louis? The flower guy?” You raised an eyebrow, “You could take any of ‘em. You got a choice. So why pick me?” Why wouldn’t it be him? Why would it be anybody else? You couldn’t quite understand his doubts, as you adjusted your positioning, and leaned up ever-so-slightly, with great attempt to level your shared beam. Surely he wasn’t feeling insecure, he had no reason to, after all - none that you had given him, that is. 
“Don’t start that.” You said, “I wouldn’t want anybody else.” 
“Oh, yeah?” He asked, an eyebrow raised, “And why’s that, Love?” He was teasing you, you could ensure, though you felt little resistance to fall within such bait. 
“I wouldn’t want anyone else, because,” He glanced feverishly to your mouth, and the words seemed to pause, caught briefly within your throat. His gaze returned to yours, his smirk filtrated with some kind of newfound arrogance, and, my, didn’t it look devilishly handsome on him. 
“Because what, Deary?” He said, a sudden dark swirl to his tone. It was rich, nauseatingly good. 
“Because I want you.” You said. “And I’ve always wanted you.”   
Though your fear found itself wretched, stammering doubts of rejection within your conscience, you supposed there was just no going back from that. And you didn’t truly believe you wanted to.  
A glimmer of something heartily mischievous eloped within his gaze, “In what way?” He humoured, a slow smile beginning to trace the very corners of his wondrously entrancing lips. You paused, a moment of silence, and wondered whether you could dare to be as graciously brave as your protruding thoughts were  starting to grow. 
Your tone fell to something quiet - low. “In any way you’ll let me.” You said. And, oh, it had you aching, the way those delectably beautiful eyes darkened, and a pepper of thickening quiet settled between the two of you.  
Johnny’s mouth opened, the breach of something verbal threatening to fall from the gasp, though nothing came out, and he closed it, instead. His breathing stammered, you dared to notice, and you felt almost ill, bereft with the simplicity of your want, your need, for his emotional acceptance. “I see.” He said, somewhat breathless, and entirely succumbed with - what you depicted, perhaps foolishly, to be - love. You felt something rise, flutter, within the depth of your digestion - almost drabbled with such pride, that you could affect him in any which way. A grin engulfed his expression, once more, and elated the darkness, clouding his chestnut orbs in a magnificent kind of way, as one hand crawled up from upon your waist, and clasped the curve of your blushed cheek. His calloused thumb traced a thing of gentle affection, stroking the soft complexion in a timid manner, and that flock of butterflies found themselves satisfied with their numbingly strong fluttering, crawling upon your skin in a matter of nerves and anxiousness. “Well,” He spoke, glancing adoringly between your eyes. From one to the other, as though he couldn’t quite believe you to be smitten within his hold, reciprocating his feelings so endlessly. The warmth of his adorning breath fanned the supple part of your gaped lips, expectant; waiting. “Best go put on your shoes, then, aye?” He whispered. 
And with that, he was gone. Hoisting you up, as he stumbled to his feet, and his expression elated a smile. He squeezed twice on your shoulders, humoured by such a frown, and he swooped down to collect his jacket from the floor. “Go on,” He said, “We’re off on a walk.” 
“We are?” You echoed, a slight distance woven within your tone. 
Johnny smiled, “We are, Love.” He said, and he barreled himself through the arms of his coat. 
You paused, be it only a moment, as gentle tufts of hair drifted upon his forehead, and he brushed them back, a toothy grin etched upon his face. He stretched up, an arch to his back, and muttered a; “Go on! It’s raining, you’ll get your feet wet if you don’t.” With a hustle, and a small shove to your shoulders. 
Frowning, you found your feet drifting you to the corner of the room - he’d gone mad. It was decided. Though, perhaps, you thought; you were just as crazy as he. For why else would you slip on your shoes, and throw on a jacket, hanging up on the wall hooks? Without another thought of hesitation, you shoved it all on, and you regained your full height, a little breathless - unfortunately so - and met the uneven smirk that was utterly Johnny’s.
He clapped his hands together, a soft connection, and rubbed them slightly, bounding to the door before you both, and swinging open the darkened oak. Neither you, nor he, bothered to dismantle the blaring illuminant that was the television, as he awaited the passing breeze of yourself. 
You wandered him by, mind a whir of incoherent thoughts, though one - one in particular - stood out, among the others. He hadn’t said it back. 
The weight of his arm, curled around the crease of your shoulders, brought you away from such a thought, and you had hardly noticed the few tender steps you had traced. “You smell nice.” Johnny said, a slight smile to his tone, “Fruity.” You merely grinned something small, and rolled your eyes. Ever the strange one. 
“You’re sure you haven’t had any of that wine before?” You jested, “On the way over, perhaps?” 
He smiled, something soft, as his free hand fumbled within his depthful pocket, and his gaze found his shoes. “The cheap stuff gives me indigestion.” He smirked, “Didn’t want the heartburn.”
“Ah,” You breathed, “I suppose that does make sense.” 
You approached the stairwell, poised to the end of the depressingly dim hallway, and watched as he bounced upon every step, no longer wedged beside you, but rather bounding upon the echoing chorus of the descending metal. His hair, naturally dried from a drizzle of cooling rain, flowed - up, and down - in a majestic kind of motion, as a subtle giggle fell from you, and your legs maneuvered a slight jog, to catch up with his waiting frame. 
He stood, slick with a grin, at the door, his arm a barricade upon its weight, as you muttered a curt thanks, and you stumbled into the waft of approaching crisp. The winter chill embraced your figure - a sudden movement, as it trailed from your toes, to your hips, to your finger-tips, and your nose - and you draped your hands within the depthful pockets of your dark coat. You shuddered - Heavens, was it freezing - and you clenched your jaw, spat with a sprinkle of dainted moisture, as the clouds shed their supple solemness. 
“It’s beautiful, don’t you think?” Johnny muttered, striding to that of a similar pace, as his hands, too, found the inner comfort of his pockets, and his arm brushed with yours. You warmed at the touch, though not by much, and you simply assumed it was all in your head, dismissive for the sudden heat. “The night.” He continued. “There’s just something about it.” 
You turned, gaze fixated upon the gorgeous glow of his sculpted features, contorted with a content smile, orbs fluttered upon the scenery before you both, unmoving, and entirely comfortable. Happy, you dared to notice. And as were you. “I know what you mean.” You mumbled, a saddened grin to quiver upon the corners of your lips, though you simply couldn’t force it’s obtain, as it fell, and your eyes found the floor. He hadn’t said it back. 
“It’s like-” He paused, tongue winding upon his lips, and his eyebrows furrowed momentarily. “It’s like the whole world is asleep.” He smiled. “It’s not, but it feels less… Alive.” 
You breathed a gentle laugh. “Like it’s only you.” You mumbled, “Without the pressure, and the judgement.” There was a subtle nod, as he brushed the fallen hair from within his vision. 
“I know how to be myself, when the moon’s my only company, y’know?” He admitted, nibbling the tender flesh of his lower lip, as his gaze darted, between the street, to the tree, to the housing scattered around. “Like whatever happens, under the stars, it-” He paused, he let out a breathy chuckle, and continued: “It won’t matter in the morning.” You simply nodded, as he opened his mouth, a stuttered mumble falling from his tongue, and your silence remained, for you knew he was not quite finished. “I just- I-” He paused, another shaky exhale, and your eyebrows furrowed. He scratched the lower-crown of his hair, ruffling it, slightly, with a nervous chuckle. “I don’t want-” He frowned, gulping, and continued: “I don’t want tonight to be one of those nights.” 
Your furrow seemed to deepen, the words falling before you found yourself able to grapple them. “What do you mean?�� You mumbled, a gentle cloud upon the frozen nightlife. 
“Look, I think-” He sighed, pausing mid-step, and standing, amidst the weighted rain, as it grew heavier, and you simply grew wetter. You paused, expression contorted with a slight confusion, dribbled with copious droplets that you didn’t bother to brush away. “I think I could dote on the darkness, forever and a day.” He said, and you frowned. You wondered just quite where he was going with such, though failed to interrupt his continuance, as he spoke, soft, among the patterning rainfall, draping upon the concrete with a rhythmic dance. “But it’s not-” He caught himself, one more, as another nervous laugh trickled from his dampened lips. Verbal gold, it surely was. “None of it - it’s not- it’s not as, uh, captivating, as you.” 
Your chest fell woozy with a supple ache, furrow one of grave compassion, and he glanced, hesitantly, with a curt removal, to your expression. You smiled, a glaze of sorrow melting from upon those amorous features. Captivating. He thought you were captivating. “And I think you- uhm-” He coughed, a slight smile to catch the corner of his lips. “I think you taught me to love, again.” He mumbled, head-up tilted, as his warm, genuine, gaze, infiltrated your own. 
“Oh?” You grinned, truthfully unable to rupture the flutter of great tingles, encasing your shivering complexion - a certain warmth cursing throughout your frozen blood. 
He laughed, a glance of something shy to his shoes, and he nodded. “Yeah.” He mumbled, returning to meet your joyous expression. “And I think I’d like to dote on you, instead.” 
“In what way?” You muttered, mocking for his previously sly commentary, a gratuitous - particularly brazen - step closer, to the grinning man, as his hands, slightly coaxed by a pink chill, from the breeze of winter's embrace, draped upon the clothed fabric of your hips. 
He drew a step closer, your shoes toe to toe, and he spoke - dangerously low; nauseatingly rich. “In any way you’ll let me.” He smirked. And, well, that seemed quite enough for you. 
There was a certain warmth about it - the capture of your supple lips upon the soft flesh of his own, molded wondrously to a hymn the Angels could never know. Eyes fluttered to a gentle close, engulfed with a sprinkle of vanishing warmth; the rain no longer seemed to matter. For you were clothed, slick like a second skin, in the thick moisture of everlasting water - wet, to the very bone - but no longer did you shiver, no longer did you tremble, with the ache of a chilling night. The pressure was timid, and the exploration a motion utterly anew - yet so beautifully divine, so entirely right. 
Your fingers - pink, and bitterly numb, in themselves - wove to clutch upon the lapels of his cotton jacket, a clutch of passion, and of longing, to emancipate the wondrous flutter in the depth of your gut. It twisted, it turned, it ached, it shrieked - you felt ill. Ill with the fever of amorous recipricance and a lover so sickly sweet, you felt you’d awake with cavities, in the later morn. You liked that thought, as your head tilted, be it only slight, to the side, and he followed your subtle retreat. Like honey, did he taste; like gold, did he display. And, oh, if this was love - if this, two lovers combined amongst the ache of winter’s cue - you decided that it was, undoubtedly, real. It was real, not a mere description of romanticised fiction. No. No; it was the golden sunlight, woven between your very hands; it was the melody of the birds, so suppley sweet; the dew upon the whispered grass, a lick of crisped morning; the enticing ferociousness of the oceanic waves, an azure of alluring power; the liquid gold, to drip from a Poet’s pen, woven beneath the tongue of their romantic thoughts - Oh, it were all that, and more. So much more. 
And, as his feeble smile fluctuated upon his bowed lips, and his fragile hold - something so gentle, upon the flush of your frozen cheek, you hardly noticed the grace of movement, thumb brushed beneath your fluttered eyes - draped across your features,  you found yourself discovering all that it ever could be. 
His tongue, though warm, and tender, slithered something slow upon the breach of your lower lip, and your cheeks furrowed a blossoming grin. Parting your lips, subtly, you allowed the delicate invasion of a gratifying, sweet, pressure, as the flesh ran along the side of your tongue, and you encased it within a frail suck, withdrawing from such an entanglement for hardly a moment. You inhaled a particularly deep breath, unfinished and wondrously interrupted, as his lips found yours once more, a collision of teeth, and of grinning hearts, and he craned upon your stature, a barricade to crawl along the base of your lower back. The soft slosh of clapped fabric wove amongst the rainfall, and a breathy chuckle harmonized from upon your lips, himself ridden with a gorgeous grin; chest-to-chest, with a kind of warmth you had never before known cursing throughout the very complexion that was your own, as your bodies collided, and his strength held you close. 
You inhaled the scent, familiar, though certainly different, and it tingled the depth of your nostrils - like woodland, and a subtle cologne. It seemed raw, so ravenously close, and your lips twitched upward at the thought. Oh, how you loved him. It ached your smitten chest, as he moulded his lips upon your own, and your movement harmonized something bitterly perfect, and it combusted among your soul. It tore the very sense you once held, from within your capacity, and it brushed such necessity beneath the carpet; for what was sense to a girl in love?
Nothing. All that made sense was him - was he - and you yearned to know it all; every crevice, every dent, for the rest of your days. Forever seemed a long time, though life so awfully short. To spend forever, a faux illusion of endless measures, by his side - it spread a warmth, such burning heat, throughout your tender frame, and you ached to know the script of every moment spent together, all until every moment were merely a memory, with nothing left to come. 
His feathered affection fell to a tender null, a lingering pause to disperse upon the gape of your swollen mouth, and he draped a peppered peck upon the very corner, withdrawing from such an intertwined proximity. You fluttered your gaze to meet his own - a stare of saturated honey; of every nightfall; of every poetic tale - and he smiled. A smile, so incredibly warm, you found yourself unable to withhold the reciprocance, as a timid blush crawled upon the complexion of your grinning features, and your eyes retained their strengthful embrace. 
For the bitter breeze had returned, and your lips were falling cold, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered - not the howl of brash wind, curling within your locks, and whipping the hood of your coat; the ache of layered rain, as it pattered, continually, upon the distilled world around; the treacherous ache of all things nauseatingly woozy, engulfing your frame in an intensely warm ambiguity - unfamiliar, though entirely welcome. None of it mattered - not as you drowned within the softness of his adoring gaze. 
Adoring, you thought; oh, did he adore you? “I love you.” He mumbled, a quiet crackle upon the pattern of rain, though you caught it - oh, did you catch it, clutched within the fragile hold of your softened heart, ached with the pressure of convicting ribs, it cried for freedom, for home; for Johnny. A smile, so genuine, so utterly enticed; joyous, draped upon your lips, and the corners of your glimmering eyes fell to a crease. He loved you.  He breathed a gentle chuckle, soggy arms curled upon that of your shoulders, as he drew you close - so unimaginably close - and he clutched your warmth upon his own. “God,” He breathed, his cheek slumped upon the crown of your head, down-tilted, and soaked with the cold of splattered rain. “I love you.” 
Arms draped across his middle, clutched upon his lower back - you ached from the cold, though you minded it not - as you smiled, and you breathed the only response you felt acceptable. “I know.” You said. 
“And I’ll give you the sun.” He continued, a mere rumble upon the quiet noise. “Indulge me, and I’ll give you the sun, ray, by fucking ray.” 
Oh, how you ached for such sonerous truth - for you knew he would never lie to you. 
410 notes · View notes