#fun fact: this is literally the very first piece i wrote for grip and the 'core' of the whole story everything else was built around | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kass-storycorner · 3 years ago

Note

Hello!! i stumbled across your works and i absolutely fell inlove with your writing (especially the angsty ones)

Can i jump on the angst train and request a fic with a line that goes "I'm here, you dont have to wait anymore," with childe? Like maybe the reader told childe that theyll wait for him no matter how long it takes (and maybe a sprinkle of argument) but something happened that made the reader be on the brink of death. With or without comfort/happy ending is up to u!!

first of all thank you so much for the request! and it really makes me so happy to hear that you like my writing, especially my angst haha secondly I am so sorry that this took so long, since I saw this ask in my inbox I couldn't stop thinking about it and finished the first part of this pretty quickly - only to be stuck at how to end it (and actually fulfill the request haha). right now i am not really happy with the ending, though I feel like this is the best I can currently do! I really hope you enjoy, please let me know if it was alright haha (also I fear that I didn't really...wrote Childe in-character, I don't know)

Waiting for you

Genre: Angst, Hurt, comfort at the end

Characters: Childe x gn!reader (Childe is referred by is actual name by the reader, but outside of dialog he's called Childe)

Format: bullet points (backstory) + Text (actual fic, answer to the prompt)

Word count: 4324

Content warning: veeeery slight spoiler warning for the Liyue quests, its literally just one sentence and I tried to keep it as ambigious as possible, slight cursing (using the word bitch too, though thats the only instance of using gendered-vocab for the reader, i still wrote them gn!), mention of blood, mild violence, not proof-read ahah when will i ever do that

you can find the fic under the cut, have fun reading!

You and Childe knew each other since you were just little kids – him and his family being neighbours had meant you always ended up playing with him and his siblings, though you both got along the best.

On more than one occasion you both just ran off to somewhere no one could disturb you, your secret hideout, trading stories of great warriors from outside of Snezhnaya you heard the fishermen at the docks talk about.

Most people and children were wary of Childe, he was always the one who wanted to ‘play-fight’, which ended most of the time with the other kid running home, crying. However, you were the exception, always able to beat him or at least have a tie. Your parents, especially your father, hated it when you came back home with bruises on your arm, a bright smile and telling how you beat Childe up that day. He never felt like Childe was someone you should surround yourself with, but he kept quite for your younger years, also thanks to your mother who wasn’t fond of the fighting either but saw how much time with Childe meant to you.

Things however changed after Childe fell into the Abyss.

It was apparent how violent he got after it, even his own family was completely helpless when it came to him. So his father send him off to join the Fatui, which was a very controversial decision in the small town you both called home – most were happy to not have Childe be around anymore, for he picked up more and more fights and became more violent, but even within Snezhnaya the Fatui have a bad reputation, so most people were convinced that he would only become even worse.

Your father was one of those who was happy, but also concerned. Your mother died shortly after Childe fell into the Abyss, so your father forbade you any contact with Childe.

This, however, did not work. After Childe had to leave Morespesok you kept in touch through letters and whenever he was in town you always met up in secret.

The letters you send each other turned sweeter the older you got, changing the feelings for friendship you both felt for each other slowly into a romantic love. Childe always ended his letter with saying that he would return soon and you always with “I’ll be waiting for you Ajax”.

You always looked forward to his letters and so did he for yours. When he came back to Morespesok after every mission he had to do for the Fatui you both would meet up in your secret hideout. This place became your save haven. Conversations, hugs, kisses and even more – everything that wasn’t written in a letter between you two happened there.

Childe was fine with this and so were you. He didn’t want people to know there was someone he loved as much as he loved you, as one of the Harbringers of the Fatui it could endanger you. You on the other hand were fine with it because, even though you had no understanding for why your father forbad you the relationship with Childe, you couldn’t stomach to disappoint him. After all he was your father and you loved him dearly, no matter how much you both might disagree on things.

Still, you longed for something more – with Childe and for your own life. You wanted to travel too; you haven’t had the chance to leave Morespesok past the few neighbouring villages. So, when Childe wrote to you that after his next visit, which would only be a few days long, he was going to Liyue and didn’t knew for how long he had to stay there – you asked him in your reply if you could join him. Him writing that it wasn’t possible and better for you to stay in Morespesok and just wait for him hurt, but you understood. You are fine with waiting for him, you always were.

You were expecting a sad but loving last night with Childe before he had to leave, ending with a bittersweet goodbye. You weren’t expecting what happened instead.

Childe was angry, it was clear to see. The moment he stepped into your secret hideout you knew something was off – how he averted your eyes, how he didn’t return your kiss with a passionate one, like usual. “Ajax”, you purred in a sweet voice, “what’s wrong?”. You tried to take his hand, but he only pulled it away. Ah, that was unusual. He never refused your touch, no matter how angry he was before. “There is nothing wrong, I just was curious if there is something you want to tell me?”, he replied in a bitter tone, not even looking at you. It took you completely off guard; you saw him be angry or sulky before, you two had your fair share of arguments in the past, but somehow this was different. “No, there is nothing except for the fact that I missed you very much,” you told him, but you could feel how you started to become irritated. When you saw him two days ago visiting your family’s shop with Teucer he gave you a warm and loving smile, winking at you when he handed you that piece of paper asking to meet up tonight. What had happened in between that made him act like this? “Tsk, fine,” and with that he was on his way out. You moved quickly in front of him, blocking the way out. “Now wait a moment, would you kindly tell me what is going on here?”. He just quietly looked at you for a few seconds before he shoved you aside. “AJAX!”, you couldn’t hide your irritation and growing anger anymore, burying your fingers in his arm in order to stop him from leaving. “What did I do to make you be angry at me?”. “It doesn’t matter”, Childe replied coldly, while trying to get you to loosen your grip on his arm. “Now let me go and run home to your father and your fiancé, I bet they are already asking where you are right now.” “My what?” you replied with bewilderment. “Childe, is that why you are angry with me? Because you think I am engaged to someone else?”. Honestly, you would find this situation hilarious if it weren’t for the fact that Childe still looked at you with a sour face. “Well, I don’t think you are engaged to someone else; I know you are. Your father was really excited about the whole thing when he told me, he even invited me to your wedding, granted if I could find the time.” As he said this, he noticed how your face was a combination of confusion and anger. And oh yes, were you angry. Angry at your father for telling such blatant lies and at Childe for believing them, confused as to why he would even believe your father in the first place. “Ajax, I-“you let go of his arm, pinching the bridge of your nose and letting out a deep sigh. “I am engaged to no one, never was. I didn’t tell you this, because I didn’t want to upset you or worry you needlessly, but maybe I should’ve done it. My father continuously tries to marry me off whenever he finds anyone, he deems a worthy suitor. I guess he might have found one of your letters, though he never said anything about it, but I can’t explain why he suddenly started to become so interested in my marital status. Every few weeks he brings another person home, tells me I should marry them, for me to turn those poor fools down and tell my father he should stop. Most accept it that I have no interest in them, some stick around for a few weeks until the realise that nothing will come of it, but yeah. Ask anyone, Archons ask your family, it’s already a running joke here.” You expected the atmosphere to become less tense after you explained the whole situation to him, for him to even turn it into a joke and to apologise for his behaviour. Instead, it just grew more tense. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”, his voice still being cold, underneath it you could hear how angry he still was. “Because it wasn’t important, at least not to me. Honestly Ajax, I don’t see what the issue is here. I am not engaged and I do not plan to agree to one unless-“, you stopped yourself right there. ‘Unless it’s you who’s asking’, is what you wanted to say. You could feel how your heart fluttered even just at the thought. Childe, however, did not notice where you were going with your last sentence, too

occupied with his own anger. “Unless what?”. “It doesn’t matter, can’t we just drop the topic and enjoy our first and last night in months with each other without fighting?”, this was your last offer of peace, hoping he would finally calm down. But you knew deep down – Childe never was one to back out of a fight. “No no no, continue, tell me what you wanted to say!”, his voice growing louder and louder with every word. “Ajax, let it be,” you really weren’t in the mood for anything tonight anymore and the least you wanted to do was discuss your wish of a future with him. “No, I won’t. Tell me, because I would love to know. Or don’t, you can also just go and choose one of the various suitors your father picked out for you to fuck, I bet you really enjoy it how they are all standing in line for you,” he spit his words out, full of anger and disgust. This was the final straw for you, it was apparent that Childe choose words that he knew would hurt you with intent and it made you explode. “You know what? I’ve had enough!”, you screamed at him, feeling how tears were pooling in the corner of your eyes. Not out of sadness or because his words hurt, those were tears of pure rage. “You come in here, after I haven’t seen you in weeks, before you leave for an unspecified amount of time and all you have to do is pick a fight? Fine, here have a fight! You are unhappy that I didn’t tell you how my father wants to force me in a marriage I don’t want to be in? Boho, I am so so sorry for you Ajax. Really, I can’t fathom to imagine how much you must struggle with this, but oh well, life must be so hard when you keep travelling around Teyvat. Because I really can’t imagine how life would be outside this place, what it’s like to have anything to do. Have you ever noticed, ever realised how much I hate it? Hate the wating? Because that’s all I do! I wait for your letters, and I wait for you to return. All I ever do I wait, wait, wait. Wait for you to come home yes and wait for you to finally be ready for something, anything more!”, the tears were now streaming down your hot, angry face. Childe just looked at you, waiting for you to end what you had to say. “I am tired of waiting! I am tired of keeping us hidden, yes, I agreed to it too in the beginning, but now? Dammit, Ajax. I don’t want to be left alone here when you go to Liyue, I don’t want to wait if I don’t know for how long I should wait. I just- “it became harder for you to speak, sobs interrupting you every few seconds. “I wish you would let me join you.” Except for your sobs, which you tried to supress, silence fell over the two of you. Childe just stood there in front of you, watching how you tried to stop the tears. “You know I can’t take you with me. It’s… it’s not safe,” he said after a while. You didn’t expect for him to change his mind, however his words didn’t make you feel any better… on the contrary they made you feel even feel worse. “Leave me alone,” was all you could tell him in that moment. You didn’t want to have him near you, you didn’t want to see his stupid face or look at his sad, blue eyes. Right now, you only wanted to be alone. “(Y/N)”, Childe began softly, wanting to take you in his arms but the look you gave him made him stop dead in his tracks. “Please, I need to be alone now”. The atmosphere was heavy, both of you didn’t want to part on bad terms but – right now wasn’t the right moment to make up. “I will leave you alone, but (Y/N)”, he said, looking at you with regret about how he acted just earlier, “please wait for me.” You scoffed at his words. Wait for him, again. “(Y/N)”, you turned away, so you didn’t have to see his face when he spoke your name again. “(Y/N), please. Please promise me that you will wait for me, I’ll come back, I promise you and I will make up for this… and for making you always wait for me. I promise. You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice.” At the mention of the nursery rhyme you had to chuckle a bit. “The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend,

the frost will freeze your tongue off, so you never lie again,” you finished it, looking back at him. “Fine, I’ll wait. But leave now.” And with that Childe left you alone, leaving Morespesok for Liyue the next day.

It has been a few months now since Childe came to Liyue and while his endeavours here were more or less successful, what was on his mind most of the days was you and how you both parted. He wanted to kick himself in the arse for how he acted that day, for making you so angry and for making you cry. The worst however is how you haven’t written him a single letter yet and Childe, though he would never admit it because of his pride, was too scared to send you one first. That he should be the first one to send you a letter was something he was aware of but still – he couldn’t find the right words. What should he write? Every time he sat down at his desk, looking at the piece of paper in front of him… he was never able to make it past “Dear (Y/N)”, and even with this he wasn’t sure, maybe “Beloved” would sound better? Childe would’ve even considered asking Zhongli for advice, however after finding out that Childe was just a pawn in his plans – he still considers Zhongli a friend, but before he could ask for advice the feeling of betrayal needs to fade out. And now he got the order to return to Snezhnaya by the end of the next month… he felt so anxious at the thought of seeing you again, not even knowing what happened with you the past months. So in the letter to his family in which he announced is return, Childe asked them, after months of not hearing anything from or about you, how you were. When he held the letter of his family in his hands, he started to feel nervous, it included the answer of your wellbeing. He knew you would keep your promise, but still. What if when not? Reading the contents of the letter, however, made him wish that he had asked sooner. Childe couldn’t stop reading the few lines his family wrote about you over and over again.

You asked about (Y/N) wellbeing in your last letter. Ajax, we wish we could tell you some more pleasant news than this, but we haven't seen or heard anything of (Y/N) for a week now. No one really knows where they might be, the last we know is that they left their home after a fight with their father, but there is nothing more we can tell you.

After reading those few lines, the letter already crumply at the edges from the way he held onto it, Childe decided to immediately make his way back home. In his opinion it didn't matter if he returned sooner than ordered and that was a problem he will face later. For now, he wanted to know what had happened to you, because he couldn't, didn’t want to, believe that you left Morepesok... you promised that you would wait for him. But doubt crept into his heart and his mind - you were so frustrated with waiting, he noticed it before you even said anything that night. However, he kept ignoring it. It wasn't like that Childe didn't also wish for more, to build a home with you, to spend more time with you. The feeling of not being good enough for you, something your father and others in Morepesok made clear to him since your childhood together, and the fear of putting a visible target on your back by being by your side... all of it held him back.

The way back home only took him a few days and when he came close to his village, seeing the once so well-known roofs and chimney of the houses, he took a junction into the woods, making his way to the secret hideout of you two. When he arrived, he noticed how it looked lived in, at first a relive for Childe, until he saw the traces of a fight - and blood on the floor. He was quick to follow the trail of blood, the father he went away from the hideout the more blood was on the ground. Suddenly he could hear a strangers voice in the distance.

"Answer me you stupid bitch!", you felt a hand pulling you up by your hair, but you were already too tired, too beaten up and injured to even respond to that violent pull. All you tried to do was to keep your hands on your stomach, trying to stop the blood from gushing out. You could barely remember what had happened, how you got there. It all started over a week ago, when you father came with another suitor wanting to marry you. Like always you turned him down, saying you had no interest in marriage, this time however he wasn't as understand as the others were. The whole thing ended in you having a huge fight with your father about it, he tried to pressure you even more than usual to take that fella as your husband. It made you sick, you just couldn't stomach being around him anymore. You always wanted to make him happy, always feared of disappointing him. But this? Him asking you to marry a random person? It was something you just couldn't do. So you went away, ran out to the little hideout planning to stay there until Childe came back. You wanted to wait for him - you even got over your stupid pride and sent away a letter for him earlier this morning... and maybe this was your mistake. Carefully you tried not to be noticed by the people in your village, you didn’t want anyone to worry about you, however you also didn’t want to explain your disappearance for the last few days. The man who your father tried you to accept as a fiancé however seemed to have spotted you when you left the post-office. It was already too late when you realised that you were followed - the man made his way into the place that was only meant for you and Childe. After that your memory started to get blurry, how was that even possible it just had happened. He attacked you, you fought back, though the man was just stronger... you ran away, feeling the blood already coming from your stomach. Your body started to become weaker, your legs grew heavier and slower until you fell. Now he was above you, grabbing your hair and screaming. It was hard to even focus on what that man said to you, too tired grew your body and mind. 'I have to stay awake', you thought. It was clear that if you lost consciousness now... well, who knows what would happen then, you only knew it wouldn't be good. You had to wait for Childe, you had to be there when he got home.

There were more than a few things in Childes live he wished he never had to see. Seeing your limp body, blood streaming out of your stomach which you could barley cover with your hand, your hair in the hands of some stranger and your eyes struggling to stay open – yes, Childe wished this was something reserved for his nightmares, not for the reality he had to face now. It didn’t even take second for him to react at that sight, swiftly being next to that man and cutting his hand off with one of his blades, kicking the rest of him away. Childe would have loved to take his time with that man, torture him, make him regret that he was born, but what was more important was to stop your bleeding. Quickly Childe sat down next to you on the ground, using his scarf to stop the bleeding. “Ajax,” he could hear you whisper quietly. “Hey, I’m here, everything is fine, everything is going to be okay.” You desperately tried to keep your eyes open, to look at him. He was a mess, his eyes filled with fear and panic spread across his face. Never had you seen him with such an expression. For only what felt a few seconds you closed your eyes and then – “Hey, (Y/N) hey, open your eyes, talk to me”, you opened them and realised that you were in Childes arms now, his eyes switching from you to what was apparently the way to Morepesok. “Ajax…”, it was so cold. When did it became so cold again? “I waited for you and now you’re here… I waited. Kept my promise.” The last few words came out slurred. “Yes, I'm here, you don’t have to wait anymore. I promise you don’t have to wait for me ever again, just please-“ his breathing was heavy, he ran as fast as he could to the village in the hopes that the healers there could help you, that there was anyone who was able to help you now. “Please, don’t close your eyes, okay?” Before you could even answer him that you will try to keep them open you could already feel yourself slip out of conscious again. All you could say before everything went dark was his name again. “Ajax…”

The first thing you noticed was a warm hand on yours. Even before you opened your eyes you knew which hand it was. “Ajax,” you were a bit shocked at the sound of your own voice. It sounded so weak. You opened your eyes, seeing into those deep blue eyes looking at you. “(Y/N)”, he didn’t sound any better. Only now you started to notice the dark circles under his eyes and how his hair looked even messier than usual. Was he by your side the whole time? “How are you feeling?”. “Better than you apparently”, you joked, weakly grinning at him. He smiled back, rubbing the backside of your hand with his thumb. “I’m glad you’re better,” he replied quietly, looking down at the hand he was holding. “I’m glad you’re here.” At that his smile faded, turning into a sad expression and you already knew what this meant. “Don’t tell me…” “I’m sorry, I wasn’t even supposed to be here just yet and my early departure from Liyue apparently has caused some issues and… well, I was able to stay here until you woke up. The deal was when you wake up or-, well that doesn’t matter now. The deal was that I had to go back and fix the damage I caused once you wake up, which is honestly way more generous than I had anticipated.” You didn’t really understand what he was exactly talking about, you were still tired, but all you knew was that he had to go again. There wasn’t any energy left in your body to hold back the tears that were now falling down your face. Childe cupped your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “Hey, listen,” he said softly. “I promise you won’t have to wait for too long, when you recovered, I will send for you.” At this your ears peaked, looking at Childe with hopeful eyes. “Send for me, you mean-?”. “Yes, this time around I’ll be the one waiting for you to arrive in Liyue and not you’re waiting for me to come home.” At that you threw your arms around his neck wanting to hug him, causing you to hiss in pain. You forgot that you still had a stomach wound. “Careful now”, he laughed a bit at how enthusiastic you were about the news that you forgot your injury. “You promise that I will really join you in Liyue?”, you still couldn’t fully believe that he really was fine with it. “You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice,” you leaned back and held your pinkie up in the air. Childe smiled at you softly, interlocking his pinkie with yours. “The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend, the frost will freeze your tongue off, so you never lie again.”

#genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #gn!reader #reader fic #genshin impact #genshin fic #fan fiction #angst #angst prompt #bit of comfort #hurt #hurt prompt #writing

308 notes · View notes

jujutsubabe · 4 years ago

Text

Sleepover w Itadori

Itadori invited you to sleepover, but it’s awkward and you two just. Cannot cuddle cause it’s so awkward.

Word count: 1.3k

A/n: I couldn’t go to bed until I wrote this, so it’s not proof read🙄 I’m having Itadori brain rot. I will see you all in the afternoon, gooday.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah,” there was a shuffle, you wiggling around until the blanket covered just over your feet and wrapped around your arms. “It’s warm.”

“Do you want me to turn on the air?” He sat up, one leg out the bed and with every intention to hop out at your word.

He looked so worried, he was fidgeting under the covers and wouldn’t wrap an arm around you. It was like laying next to a shaking chiwawa.

You pushed him back into his pillow, kissing his shoulder. “I’m fine, relax.” You smoothed his hair out his face, trying to erase the crease between his brows.

He glanced over at you, still not giving into your touch, almost restraining himself from relaxing all the way. He turned his head back to the ceiling with a shaky sigh.

“Okay.” He tried to loosen his body with a breath, but it seemed as though he was only getting stiffer with each one.

His hands, arms, and legs were nowhere on you. He barely glanced at you the whole time you got into the bed. Respectable? Yes. You appreciated the gesture.

But was this how you wanted to spend your first night with your boyfriend...? Not really.

You were surprised he didn’t hop on you and slobber you down with kisses, or pull you into a deep suffocating hug the second you laid down.

Your expectations sat in the back of the room, awkwardly seeing its way out. It didn’t look like he would be cuddling, much less looking at you anytime soon.

A quiet silence passed by, but it felt so awkward. The both of you on the verge to say something.

“Are you comfortable?” You asked this time.

“Y-yeah.” He gulped down, and if you didn’t know any better you were sure sweat was pouring off of him.

He was a horrible liar. You quirked a brow, giving him a once over that he noticed at the corner of his eye.

“Are you sure? You look...” you gestured to his demeanor, “A little stiff.”

He coughed out a laugh, “No no I’m fine! This is fine.”

He turned his body away from you, his back now facing you, “Goodnight!”

He practically curled away from you, and you didn’t feel such a large yearning towards your boyfriend until now. He was right there, but he only flinched away from your touch, giving you a nervous smile every time, how could someone be so close and so far at the same time?

You knew he was nervous about messing up your first sleepover together, but this felt excessive. He didn’t need to hold himself back from you this hard, it looked like it pained him to not surrender to his wants.

It hurt you too, it made you feel weird having him reject everything you initiated. Was it something more than this first sleepover? Did he feel uncomfortable around you or something?

You shook your head before you could ponder on any longer, if you continued to think you would definitely start getting insecure.

You tapped his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his spot to turn to you, his eyes wide open, making you think he wasn’t even trying on sleeping.

“Is everything okay?” He sounded breathless, like he ran a marathon, “Did you need some water?”

You smiled down at him, extra careful with the tone of your voice. “Yuuji, I’m fine. I just wanted you to face me.” Your hand grazed under his chin until his face was next to yours.

“I’ve been wanting to see you all night my love.” You kissed his nose and his face lit up.

If his heart were to burst into a million pieces at any moment it would be now. Sirens played and his mind played images of exploding fireworks over and over, he internally screamed at Sukuna to keep quiet as he laughed at the poor boy.

Itadori’s heart was in your hands, you were always so careful with him, always so patient, even when he freaked out over the smallest things you would be there for him.

This whole night you didn’t get mad at him once for being so nervous. He had a hundred apologies welled up in his chest for even thinking about facing the other direction, he didn’t mean to make you feel awkward with him, this was literally so embarrassing, Sukuna was going to make fun of him forever.

Who does that, when someone you love is laying next to you in the bed, who turns around to face the wall?

The longer he stared into your worried eyes, felt your hands graze over his cheek, the more guilty he felt. He didn’t mean to move away whenever you touched him, he just couldn’t handle the way it made him feel.

His heart was all bouncy and his throat just about closed up whenever you touched him. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable at all, he wanted to restrain himself from doing something dumb, but he didn’t know you were waiting to see his face all night.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, relaxing his hand on top of yours. His thumb running along the back of your hand as you squished his cheek.“I lied. I mean, I am kind of nervous.”

“I could tell.” You scooted closer and he could feel sweat raining down his hands. How were you so calm about this? “What has you so nervous?”

Maybe the fact that you were in his bed.

Or maybe the fact that you were in his bed and holding his face.

Or maybe the fact that you were in his bed, holding his face, mixing his scent onto your clothes, while looking really comfortable in his blanket, while also keeping calm with the very close proximity of your faces to each other.

“You. Or um, making you uncomfortable? I want you to feel safe around me. I don’t want you to feel like you need to hold me or kiss me or something.”

He blushed by the end of that sentence, his skin hot and nearly about to melt off as he looked at your eyes for some kind of reaction. Being open was such an awkward feeling.

“Oh, well I feel safe around you.” You pulled yourself into his chest, arms wrapped around him “I just want to be close to you.”

He nearly fainted. His mouth propped open as you snuggled yourself into his chest, his heart beat so loudly he just knew you could hear it. It felt like his body was out to betray him, his mouth decided to go dry and his hands wanted to be clammy.

You were giving him so many butterflies, he couldn’t help the excitement that ran through his arms. He never loved someone so much, not until he felt the way you melded perfectly into his arms.

You grinned, tightening your arms around him, and he finally relaxed under your touch. Fixing himself into your form, and squeezing onto you like a kid who just got their first stuffed animal.

He kissed the top of your head, multiple times as this feeling coursed through his whole body, with his heart pumping so fast, he couldn’t tell what the pattern even was anymore.

You felt right on him. Your arms and legs wrapped around him felt loose and secure, his hold on you only tightening whenever you did so as well.

Your legs all tangled underneath the covers, Itadori’s warm body surrounding you, and the firm grip he had on your body was just how you wanted to end the night.

You propped your head up once more to kiss his neck. “Goodnight.”

He smiled down, pulling your face up to kiss you on the lips, now giving you a proper and well timed “Goodnight” back.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fluff #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #yuuji x reader #yuuji itadori #yuuji Itadori x reader #Itadori yuuji x reader fluff #Itadori x reader fluff #sleepover bleh bleh 🤪#that emoji is actually kind of funny #I like it tbh #🤪🤪🤪#it looks so cool #like a poptranica character

475 notes · View notes

dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Patience | Loki Laufeyson

Hey lovelies!! I caved and wrote this in the car today LOL! I've never written smut this short so I hope it still has all the goodness of a longer piece! it's def a challenge but I am quite pleased with the outcome! I hope you've all had a wonderful day and do enjoy Loki edging his girl in the castle gardens!

Appetizers (Tags): Smut, Fluff

Entres (Pairing): Loki x F!Reader (third person)

Sides (Prompts): 7: “Teach me.”

Notes: Loki is 'teaching' reader how to use her magic, requested by @hellotvshowtrash

THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!!

Word Count: 1.7k

Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List

“Teach me.”

When she had asked that she never thought it would mean this. She never thought it would mean her back being pressed against the castle wall, Loki’s hand— one of many— pressing against her lips, keeping the feeble moans contained as another hand traces a delicate line down her navel.

She’s still fully clothed when his invisible fingers dip past her panties, only just having begun a walk through the gardens with the trickster god she’s grown fond of. He’s been charged with showing her the ropes of magic. Her abilities— quite like his own and rapidly increasing— needed honing and Frigga thought it best to learn from him. She wasn’t going to complain— she had become quite close with him in the months beforehand. Now, though, it’s different.

Very different.

Loki is a very— erm— hands on teacher.

She moans against the hand— the heavy, invisible, warm force that is entirely Loki but also entirely not— against her lips and he tsks, a teasing smile on his luscious lips. “Patience, dove. That’s the key to control. You must be patient.”

She balls her hands at her sides, pressing her lips together as she stares up at her teacher. In turn he meets her gaze, his real, physical hands resting neatly beside her head, caging her against the stone and shielding her body from anyone who may be passing by. She wants to complain— to grab those magic fingers she knows he has and shove them inside her. But he’s right. Frustratingly so. She knows the wait is worth it.

He leans down, nose brushing against her face, lips grazing her cheek so lightly she could scream. His breath is hot against her face, fanning her skin with his frosted lemon scent. It takes everything in her to keep her eyes on his and not rolling into the back of her head.

“Are you going to be patient?” He murmurs, nipping at her ear.

She doesn’t answer— she doesn’t nod like she knows he’s expecting. No one said she was an obedient student. When he pulls back she gives him what she hopes is a deadpan look— I can’t answer if you’re not going to let me talk. He sighs, rolling his crystal eyes, but the traces of his mischievous grin lingers and he snaps his fingers anyway. With a gasp the invisible hand over her mouth falls away, her lips meeting the cool garden air.

She smiles up at him, head cocking. “Maybe.”

The pressure on her stomach increases, ghostly fingers tapping on the soft skin below her waistband, just above where she aches for his touch. She scrunches her nose, swallowing the newest moan but holding her smile. His face remains calm, his lips inches from her own and twisted cruelly. She won’t win this— she already knows that— but she’ll try.

He leans down, letting his mouth wisp over her, smiling when he hears her tiny mewls. “You never learn, do you? What am I going to do with you, hmm?”

She grits her teeth, trying to shift her hips upwards towards the fingers but— like freakin’ magic— they move with her, remaining the same inch from where she needs him. It makes her throb harder, knowing that he’s right there.

“Keep teaching me?” She squeaks, voice airy— both from her attempts at teasing the trickster god back and from how pent up she’s beginning to feel.

He chuckles and it sounds like sex itself— sultry and easy and fun. “Oh you would like that, wouldn’t you dove?”

She nods furiously, sighing when his fingers— his real ones— wisp down her cheek, drawing over her neck before curling loosely around her throat. His thumb presses against the side of her neck, no doubt testing her response— her willingness. She— as always— presses back. Challenging him. Trusting him.

“Yes.” She breathes— whiney and hot— when she catches the flick of his brow.

She’s rewarded with the first touch of his magic, invisible fingers swiping through her folds, pulling a tiny gasp from her lips as sparks dance across her skin. She can taste them on her tongue, metallic and citrusy— completely him despite the fact that when he does it again, fingers circling her clit, she can feel her own magic in her fingertips.

This time when she pushes her hips up she isn’t met with resistance, only the skillful swirling of Loki’s energy against her and his amused, soft laughs. His hand around her throat pushes harder, steering her to let her head fall back against the wall while his other hand twists beside her cheek. He’s doing something and if she weren’t so lost in his ministrations— the hazy feeling clouding her head and the building pleasure in her squeezing core— then she would ask; what are you doing—

“Oh my— Loki—” She gasps as two magic fingers push inside her, pumping in and out so slowly she wonders at first if she's imagining it but— no— they’re definitely there.

“See what you can do with a little focus?” The god teases her, blue eyes electrified and dancing to her open mouth, fingers— flesh ones— pressing against her bottom lip.

She wastes no time wrapping her lips around them, bringing them into her mouth and sucking. He tilts his head at her when she swirls her tongue, brows drawing together, fingers pumping harder into her core, brushing the spot that has her seeing stars. When she moans around his fingers he blinks— the magic stopping and leaving nothing but a buzzing, fluttering between her thighs.

She goes to whine, nose scrunching again, but he beats her to it. “Patience, remember? It’s about control, dove.”

She understands the concept— she understands she has to focus and be patient— she just doesn’t want to do any of it. She doesn’t want control. Not now when her clit is aching and his fingers— fingers, magic, whatever— feel like the only thing that can make it go away. She just wants to cum. And she hopes he can see that when she pushes against his grip, pulling her lips from his fingers and pouting.

“Please Loki.” She bats her lashes at him, the waning of her pleasure making her fingers spark slightly in annoyance. “Need you so bad.”

His lips turn up again— that cruel twist of pretty flesh— and he blinks— again— and suddenly he’s back, fingers circling her bud and fingers pumping in and out of her at that steady, agonizing rhythm. He twists them, brushing her walls and drawing a little mewl from her lips. It should be concerning how fast she falls back into the pleasure— how quickly it builds up again— but she can’t think too hard about it when he’s curling his digits so wonderfully into her heat.

Still— despite the wonder it’s still too slow. The pleasure is all around her, consuming her bones and making her thighs shake, but she only teeters on the edge. If he keeps it up she will cum— she isn’t worried about that part— but she wants it now. She wants to fall off the edge and she wants him to push her.

She bucks her hips against his hand, brows pushing together and voice a mere whimper. “Faster— please, please, please faster!”

He only smiles and— “No Loki! don’t you dare—” Blinks.

When the hands disappear her tongue bursts with all the stored energy in her body once more. This time it doesn’t just taste like lemons it tastes like fire— like anger and passion and the throbbing ache of her damn core— and she could cry, tears pushing at her eyelids from how damn close she is. Her whole body feels like a live wire, humming with the memory of his touch. She wants to scowl at him— to lash out— but his blue eyes are too deep and she’s too weak to every little spark of pride.

“You’re doing so good for me. So so good—” This time it's his real hand— his warm, solid, completely him hand— that pushes past the waistband of her pants, long fingers pressing against her clit and sending an oversensitive jolt racing up her spine— “I think you’ve learned today’s lesson, don’t you dove?”

She can’t answer; she can only raise her hips, so desperate to feel him inside her that her own magic pulses at her palms, slamming into the stone behind her and making it rumble slightly. She blinks at the rush, her core throbbing with the new ebb and flow of her magic. It is that very moment which Loki sinks his fingers back into her, stroking the spot that seems to call his name. Her back arches off the wall, fingers biting into the stone and taking off chunks as she finally is brought back to the edge. Her body pulses under his touch and her power, vision spinning as she finds those blue eyes again. She’s so damn close—

“Let go for me.”

His words and the pleased, awed look in his eyes is all it takes for her to fall, core clenching around his fingers as her orgasm bursts behind her eyes. The power of it is unlike anything she’s ever felt— both at her hands and his— and if she weren't so blissed out she would roll her eyes at him for being right all the damn time. Stupid wonderful god with magic hands. Faintly, amidst the pleasure erupting in her stomach, she registers that there’s a green haze to her climax, tinting her surroundings the same jade as his shirt.

Always one for theatrics.

He doesn’t stop twisting his fingers until she's wrapping her hands around his wrists, legs trembling and blood more molasses than anything as she pulls him from her heat. He watches her closely, his own chest heaving, and, in a move bolder than she would normally enact, she brings his fingers— the very same ones that were just buried inside her— to her lips, slowly licking them clean of her. He tenses, eyes darkening, and she feels like the cat who got the cream— literally. He deserves it, she tells herself when she sees his other hand clench at his side, composure waning. Take that for being such a tease.

When she’s done she lets his hand drop, clicking her fingers and rearranging her disrupted clothes. She giggles when his jaw drops, dark brows furrowing. She does it again— snap— and moans gently at the feeling of her hair gently weaving itself back to it’s prior composed state. She passes him a coy smile.

“Control was never the issue.” She simpers, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to the gods throat. “But maybe I’ll need another lesson in patience soon.”

#Loki Laufeyson #Loki #Loki x reader #Loki x y/n #Loki smut #Loki fic #Loki imagine #Loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson fic #loki laufeyson imagine #mcu #mcu fic #marvel cinematic universe #Dinner at Dizzy's

238 notes · View notes

violettelueur · 4 years ago

Text

ITADORI YUJI + FUSHIGURO MEGUMI + GOJO SATORU + INUMAKI TOGE || WITH A MUTE S/O

| featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + gojo satoru + inumaki toge from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors and a lot of my side comments

| form : headcanons

| published : 25 november

| request : i really really like your writing, it literally makes me so giddy ngl. i’d like to recommend, if you can, a headcanon with toge, gojo, megumi and yuji where the reader is either blind or deaf or mute. you honestly don’t have to, but i think it be pretty neat if you did

| barista’s notes : hello guys! guess who is probably going back to school tomorrow after being in isolation? probably me~ ʕ ﾟ ● ﾟʔ also i can’t really lie, this piece was a bit difficult for me to write that i had to do some quick research about the topic that is related to this headcanons ʕᴥ·　ʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and have a wonderful day/night ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

ITADORI YUJI:

Itadori would be confused at first since you weren’t mute due to you having cursed speech as a cursed technique as Inumaki does.

It would be a bit strange to him at first since he is so used to people talking to him through speech due to his energetic personality, but over time he really does try to learn how to communicate to you.

You would at first write to him with a pen and notepad or maybe a whiteboard to make the writing process a bit quicker and easier.

“Wow babe, you have really nice handwriting”

Then there is you replying with the board covering your blushing face - this action will confuse him as he wonders if he said anything wrong only for you to smile at him to ease his worry

He would slowly learn to read you expressions - though not very well, he is trying very hard.

The gestures that he knows you are trying to convey to him within a second are ‘I’m hungry’, ‘I’m tired’ and ‘I love you’ - because I love you is basically you shaping your hands into a heart (girl, that is so cute~)

Itadori will usually ramble a lot, filling the room with his words which makes you really happy since he seems really happy ranting about the movies that Gojo-sensei made him watch for his training or missions that he had gone to.

Even when you are mute, that’s okay because Itadori’s love language is physical touch - so prepare to receive many hugs and energetic kisses.

And due to that, expressing your love to each other is quite easy since the both of you could just physically inform each other - lowkey I feel like Itadori would give the best hugs, he’s like the sun.

In conclusion, he really is trying to understand you and learn as quickly as possible - even then you wrote to him that it was okay and he should take his time - he really wants to be the best boyfriend possible - even though he is the best boyfriend affection wise.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI:

Fushiguro is the master of reading your expression and what’s going on in your mind.

Sometimes it really scares you because you wonder if he can read your mind since what he ‘guesses’ were just too accurate and precise.

“You seem like you want to eat Udon today, do you want to go to our favourite noodle place?”

You looked at him with widened eyes with the thoughts of: How the hell did he know what I was thinking? Can he read my mind?

“Y/N I can’t read your mind”

I......what a liar~

When it comes to your expression, he notices the smallest changes from the smallest crease that is formed on your forehead when you’re either annoyed or stressed to the smallest curve that your lips make you smile.

So when you are annoyed, he would gently take your hand in his and grip it tightly to tell you that he was right beside you and that everything was going to be okay.

He really takes in your expression and keeps them into memory, so it’s easier for him and you to communicate - or he just really likes to see you smile and would do anything to keep you smiling.

Fushiguro is really patient with you when it comes to communication, if you have to write a really long response, he would just patiently wait while either looking down onto the board/notepad to admire your handwriting or look at you and admire your face due to you looking so concentrated to finishing your answer - he thinks it’s a really cute sight.

Sometimes out of nowhere, he would kiss your forehead before giving you a soft smile when you look up - girl once again, I’m blushingggggg~

I don’t know but I imagined that little scenario with him sitting down in front of you with his hands in his pockets, while you’re standing in front of him as you write down something - I don’t know after many K-dramas and romance animes this is what is on my mind.

Unlike Itadori, Fushiguro isn’t that affectionate as his classmate but he would do things for you if you didn’t like doing them like washing the dishes or doing the laundry - basically acts of service.

In conclusion; Fushiguro is someone that lets you take your time and is really patient with you, he wants you to be comfortable and allows you to express what you are feeling in any way possible for you to communicate with him - don’t worry he knows what you’re trying to say/suggest.

GOJO SATORU:

Mr Gojo Satoru. The strongest jujutsu sorcerer will probably have a whiteboard himself like you so you didn’t feel alone.

Or maybe it was for him to proudly show you his drawing, just like he did with Fushiguro that one time.

To be honest, this really does light up your mood and sometimes make you forget that you’re mute to begin with because he just has that power.

There are times where he would write cute messages on the board and lift it up for you to see if you are at a faraway distance.

‘You look beautiful today ♡’ to ‘I love you honey~’

You can’t lie, sometimes it is embarrassing when it is shown in front of his students or when you are talking to someone - he’s basically teasing you at this point.

Also about his teasing, even though you can’t verbally respond to his playful comments, your face just expresses it all making it more fun for him to tease you even further.

Prepare for like 1000 flashes because he is going to take a lot of pictures of you - and you can’t even tell him to stop. Also, don’t try to jump around to get his phone, remember he is over 190cm.

On top of that, expect a lot of cute messaged from him during work or when he is on a mission like ‘I miss you’ or ‘I have some souvenirs for you’.

Sometimes he just texts you when you are standing next to him.

But once again, the blue-eyed jujutsu sorcerer really knows how to keep you happy and motivated even with your inability to speak.

There are times where Gojo is worried about your ability to fight for some reason - maybe he was just overprotective of you - but comes to the realisation that talking and fighting are not the same thing.

You are capable of defending and protecting yourself on your own, it’s just that he forgets sometimes.

Or maybe he uses it as a useless excuse to protect you because who knows, you can’t call for help when you might need it - spoiler alert, you bloody don’t.

But does he care?

Noooooooo~

He just wants you safe in his arms so he can come home with you - or maybe just to tease you even more.

In conclusion; expect a lot of cute drawings from him to lift up your mood as well as a lot of teasing here and there because he is Gojo Satoru…..what in the world did you expect?

INUMAKI TOGE:

Inumaki can really relate to you on the fact that you had an inability to speak, even though he can technically talk, it was still limited to ingredients of rice balls in a normal conversation.

Both of you would learn how to communicate with each other since both of you were hard to understand to other people that were around you.

Your friends would be so confused about how you both would understand each other even when there was just little to no words exchanged.

Sometimes you and Inumaki would smile at each other randomly and that other people around you would wonder what on earth the both of you were talking about.

Lowkey you two were gossiping about the second years.

Yes, you two were the perfect gossip couple - no one will ever know what you’re talking about.

Like Fushiguro, he is also very good at reading your expression and would ask if you were okay if he saw you looking upset or irritated.

“Salmon roe?”

You would then give him a thumbs-up before writing down what was making you irritated like “just a bit hungry” or “I really wanna go home, I’m too tired for this”

Since you and Inumaki couldn’t profess your love for each other verbally, you both would either text each other or just physically express it.

Mostly, forehead kisses and maybe some kunik kisses here and there.

Nothing too heated, but mostly sweet and gentle gestures.

Let’s just say you were the IT couple within the second years.

In conclusion; there would be a lot of lowkey gossiping since you two were basically the masters of keeping secrets and gaining new information and light gentle expression of love, even though the both of you struggled with the verbal aspect of your relationship, it really didn’t affect it at all since you two successfully climb over that issue.

907 notes · View notes

tothemeadow · 3 years ago

Note

Can I get a hotdog with hot sauce and mustard with a side of onion rings to share with uzui 🏃🏾‍♀️💨

Here you go babe ;)

Summer Feelings Event

'krusty towers' / Uzui T. x Reader

warnings: NSFW, oral sex, vaginal fingering, fisting (might as well take a crack at it 👉👈)

words: 1,323

We shall never deny a guest even the most ridiculous request.

It was a mere plaque, nothing more. Hell, with a slogan like that, you thought it would taken as a joke. The thing is, though, is that the employees don’t treat it as a joke. In fact, you wouldn’t have heard of it in the first place if it weren’t for the receptionist at the check in desk. With an upscale resort and hotel like this, of course they take all their clients seriously, even down to the tiniest detail.

And there was something riveting about the receptionist, something that pulled your eyes to him and refused to let them go. Tall, broad shouldered, pearly grin paired with petal lips, and a set of rubies for eyes, this man was absolutely gorgeous. If anything, he looked like he worked for a modeling agency rather than a hotel.

“Ma’am,” he had told you, honeyed voice smoother than silk, “if there is anything – and I mean anything – that we can do for you, please let me know.”

You remembered staring at the breast pocket of his suit jacket, at the shiny tag that read Uzui Tengen. He slipped you a number for the front desk on a small slip of paper, that dazzling smile of his playing on his handsome features. Even then, your heart raced wildly in your chest; because, if you were to be completely honest here, that man was literal sex on legs and you wanted all of it.

It didn’t take much for you to give in; although the first few days were only filled with idle conversations and shameless flirting, you refused to call that special number in the late hours of the night. That is, until you found yourself sprawled out on your hotel bed, completely naked from your earlier shower and legs spread apart, fingers pumping in and out of your sopping pussy. With the aid of alcohol in your system, you’re practically on cloud nine, your other hand switching between playing with your breasts and your clit.

It wasn’t enough. No, what you needed was someone to fuck you raw, to completely stuff that sinful little hole of yours until you were screaming. It’s that very thought that led you to shuffling across the bed to your nightstand, fingers snatching up that slip of paper. About ten minutes later, Tengen is standing outside your door, looking as handsome as ever in a three-piece suit. You, on the other hand, are covered by the thin robe graciously provided by the hotel.

“You rang?” Tengen singsongs, a mischievous smirk on his face.

Instead of outright answering, you grab him by the tie and yank him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. “You take any request, right?” you rush, hands already making quick work of unbuttoning his top layers and loosening his tie.

“Your wish is my command,” Tengen replies, voice lowering to a panty-dropping rasp. “Anything you want, I’ll happily provide.”

“Good,” you mutter, pushing the garments down his arms and exposing the entirety of his defined torso. Broad shoulders, tiny waist – perfect. “Because I want you to fuck me.”

“So straightforward – I like it,” he purrs. “But may I offer something else first?”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his. “What?”

And, much like your earlier move, he remains silent, opting to push you backwards until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. He gently urges you to lie down, large hands undoing the loose knot to your robe. He mutters his appreciation once your naked body is exposed, his hands drifting over the plain of your stomach and the swells of your breasts. He gracefully kneels between your legs, wasting not a single moment and kissing your thighs while he kneads your breasts.

“Mmm,” he hums as he drifts closer to where you need him most, “looks like you were already having some fun. Who were you thinking of, baby?”

“Like you need to know,” you breathe. Tengen chuckles at your response, but the sound soon turns into a pleasured gasp as you grip onto the silvery strands of his hair, completely ruining the slicked back style. “Just – fuck – just do something.”

“Magic word, baby. What is it?”

“Goddammit Tengen, I gave you a fucking order-“

You abruptly cut yourself off with a moan when Tengen swoops in, plump lips latching around your puffy clit and suckling on it. His fingers quickly follow suit, skimming up the crevice of your thigh and brushing along the wetness gathered at your slit. A simple tug on his hair has him groaning into your pussy, tongue and fingers both plunging themselves inside of you. And fuck, he’s so fucking good, his mouth switching back and forth between playing with your clit and fucking you with his tongue.

Truly, you wished you noticed it before, but this smug bastard has a fucking tongue piercing.

The cold bead compared to the hot wetness of his tongue has you arching your back, fingers digging into his scalp. You wonder how anybody could be this amazing at giving head, but here you are, getting tongue fucked like your lives depended on it.

“Holy shit, Tengen,” you breathe, hips bucking into his face. And oh, he lets you do as you please, stuffing your pussy with four of his fingers while you rock into him. He eats like a man starved, the lewd slurping coming from between your legs making your face heat up in embarrassment.

“You taste so fucking good, baby,” Tengen husks. He smirks when he crooks his fingers, making you cry out in pleasure. “Look at you, taking in so many of my fingers like that – shit, I bet you could take my fucking fist, couldn’t you? God, I wanna try.”

“That’d be too much,” you babble, but holy fuck do your insides squeeze at the idea. “Your hand is too… too big-“

“So’s my cock, baby,” Tengen says. Placing a hand on your hip, he halts your movements and holds you still. “What’s gonna happen when I fuck you open, huh? If you can take that, you can take my fist.”

“No, no, Tengen, wait-“

“Relax, baby,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. “You’ll take it.”

Slowly, he retracts all four fingers only for his thumb to join. Your eyes roll towards the back of your skull as you shake, your velvety walls clamping possessively around him as he – holy shit – pushes his entire hand into you. Letting out a low, drawn out whistle, Tengen admires the sight of your pussy clamping around his wrist. His cock twitches inside his slacks, already hard as a rock and leaking precum.

“My, my, my, looks like my baby is a bigger slut than I originally thought,” he says. “I’m impressed.”

You merely whimper in return.

“Keep taking deep breaths, alright? ‘Cause I’m gonna curl my hand – hey now, relax.”

It feels like forever for your body to loosen up, but you can feel Tengen’s hand slowly curl into a fist, his knuckles pressing right against your g-spot. “Oh my god,” you pant, “your hand – it’s-“

“Shh,” Tengen hushes you, pressing another kiss to your knee. “You’re doing so well, baby. Let me make you feel real good before I fuck you with my fat cock.”

You still can’t completely wrap your mind around the situation. Here you are, having some man you barely know slowly fuck you with his fist – even more, you like it. The stretch is nothing like anything you’ve experienced before, and the amount of slick leaking from your cunny and slipping down your asscheeks is astronomical. You openly keen when Tengen’s mouth finds its place back on your clit. Clearly, he’s set on having you cum your fucking brains out – not that you mind, of course.

Ridiculous requests, huh – bet whoever wrote that wasn’t expecting this.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #uzui tengen x reader #tengen uzui x reader #uzui tengen #tengen uzui #summer feelings event

219 notes · View notes

kanene-yaaay · 3 years ago

Text

Go to Sleep

Kanene’s note: Gosh, having a schedule is weird. I just wanna post everything I already wrote and ramble non stop about it asdfgtyujkigfdo. XD

Well, this was suppose to be a drabble, but it’s very long so sdftyujikgfred. I hope you like it!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders from the serie Sanders Sides.

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

* This is Lee!Virgil with Ler!Roman. Around 1.500 words.

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

* Listen a bit to the birds today. Changing the way you think is not a bad thing. Drink water, sleep, eat and love!

[~*~]

Roman growled, missing by a few inches the button of his thunderous, infuriating alarm before finally hitting it. Staring and blinking lazily at the numbers his brain struggled to discern and recognize, only to confirm it was really time to wake up and start the day. He grabbed his pillow and squeezed it with all the strength he could muster, rolling from one side to other on the mattress, trying to wake up his body as quick as his mind and almost falling from the bed a reasonable number of times during the process.

He got up, yawing, stretching and humming as the first lyrics of the day stuck on his head, hand rubbing at his eyes as he followed the kitchen’s direction with slow steps and tired sways on the beat of the song.

Two dark, wide eyes stared right back at him, their owner completely frozen on the spot with his hand inside the cabinet, probably already holding some sort of a snack. Roman also stopped mid-step, gears running inside his mind, gaze locked on the other, his brow progressively furrowing.

“Virgil,” he began, voice slightly hoarse “What the heckty heck are you doing up? It’s barely seven in the morning!” Virgil only stared back, slowly closing the cabinet’s door, as if afraid the movement would startle the other. Roman proceeded to get some eggs and other cold ingredients from the refrigerator for the breakfast, his words growing more awake and vivid as they spilled with no filter or whatsoever from his lips. “You got an early shift again or something? Those are absolutely hellish. A bunch of people exhausted, tired and glaring at you as if you are the holder of all their problems and their solutions can only be achieved by being insufferable pieces of- Urg. I can’t believe they would give you one right after you got the night one. Damn, I didn’t even see you arriving here yesterday!”

He turned his attention back at the other, looking for a kind of frustration in the place of the still startled, wide gaze which continued to be directed at him. Virgil nodded slowly, stepping away and putting some physical distance between him and the confusion on Roman’s features.

Then, between the strings of sleepiness that clouded his brain, it clicked.

Suddenly more details on the other’s behavior started to become clearer: the way Virgil’s hair was messier than his usual ““style”” (Roman scoffed mentally, thinking that if he rolled his eyes any harder they would never come back to his normal place again), his wary, yes, but way too much slow movements, the way he seemed to be unable to stop blinking at every millisecond and, above it all, the final piece of the puzzle.

Virgil wasn’t wearing his pajamas.

“YOU DIDN’T!” Roman gasped, as if Virgil’s life choices were a personal attack. “YOU DIDN’T GET ANY SLEEP LAST NIGHT!!” A turn of heels and he was again fixating his glare on the other, his free hand accusingly pointing in his direction, receiving an annoyed hiss as immediate answer.

“Shut up!” Virgil snarled, practically growling back at him. “It’s fucking seven am don’t be so freaking loud.”

“Don’t change the subject! Why didn’t you go to sleep?”

The one being questioned just snorted, half amused. “Bold of you to assume I’d ever sleep in my whole life.”

“That is it.” Virgil didn’t even have the time to wonder the meaning of his friend’s sentence before the aforementioned picked him up, resulting to a not very contained shriek escaping from his lips and his hands not much gracefully – or gently, although since they were keen on just jumping on each other out of nowhere to play fight Princey would be fine - meeting his friend’s face.

“Roman! What the he-”

“Did you just SLAP me? My beautiful face?! Before my own beautiful eyes??” Virgil Storm always got, even if he would never admit this out loud, surprised with Roman’s capacity of doing a series of offended incoherent noises which evolved to words before being carefully metamorphosed in weird noises all over again, and in the end still managing to form comprehensible sentences. His surprise did nothing to quell the grumpy snark immediately flying from lips, though.

“And I’m going to do it again if you don’t let me go in this exact instant.”

“You go and try to help and that is the acknowledgement you get,” The one wearing pajamas with little crows printed on it huffed, mumbling in a lower tone as he noticed the sharp gaze being thrown in his direction. “fucking unbelievable.”

“I still can hear you, Princey. You’re literally carrying me.”

“I sTiLL cAn HeAr yOu-OW! Ow! Ow!” The sentence was interrupted when the sleep deprived one punched Roman’s shoulder. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Let me fucking gAAH!” In a way his wish was granted, one could say as they watched his protest being cut as Storm was impolitely tossed on his bed, Roman quickly following his friend on the mattress, arms hugging him from behind, and physically preventing him from escaping his current soft predicament. “Prince, you’re dead.”

“Shhh, no talking. We’re sleeping.”

“We are not. You are being a pain in ass and I am about to defenestrate you.” Despite his fervent protests, his sharp, flaming glare began to lose its heat, his body not doing any actual effort to free himself from the other’s – strong, good - grip, muscles starting to relax against the great warmth involving him in a comfortable and secure blanket.

“Sure, sure, mister Grumpy Pants, you can do that when you wake up.” He tightened a bit his hold around Virgil, yet being the most careful as possible, actively ignoring the annoyed hiss his friend gave him. His hoodie was really fluffy at the touch, slightly remembering his stuffed animals he frequently hugged to sleep.

For a moment, everything was pleasantly quiet. The one with smudged makeup, since he hadn’t time to get it off before being trapped by his roommate and best friend, felt the tiredness becoming sleepiness as the seconds went by.

…That was until an electric sensation shot across his spine, leading him to almost jump in the same place

“S-stop nuzzling me!”

“Hm? Oh sorry.” Virgil pressed his lips tightly closed, preventing the wobbly giggles to escape as Roman speaks, not realizing how close his mouth was from the base of his neck, every breath sending tickly shocks across every nerve. “You’re just too much sooooft.”

Roman opened an eye when realized that no snark remark from the other followed his words, the figure in his arms shaking too much to be asleep. A frown painted his feature as he readjusted the position of his hands, trying to get a bit more of balance to look at Virgil’s face when suddenly a high-pitched yelp escaped, cutting the air and immediately catching their attention.

“Did you just squeal?” He questioned as his glare assumed a playful shine seeing a blush spread on his now frozen friend.

“It was NOT a squeal! It was a yelp.” Virgil’s words came so fast that they almost tripped on themselves. Roman snorted, a smile taking over his face. “Get off me!” and, in the moment the one wearing a hoodie tried to pry his hand from the spot on his right side where it was resting, the pieces finally clicked in the right place and his smile quickly submerged, giving space to a smirk.

‘No WAY Doctor Doom and Gloom is ticklish!’

However, the red lover only blinked as the true personification of innocence and naiveness, his hand firm in its place, fingers starting to slowly move, light pokes being delivered on the sensitive skin. “But why that, Knight Mare? It’s cold and all I could ever want is just to hug my bestest friend!”

“You already hugged me, now go aWAY!” His voice trembled in the last second, the exact moment his thumb experimentally scratched the spot right under the lowest ribs, leading a surprised squeak to leave Virgil’s mouth.

They both stared at each other, gleaming, filling their wide eyes.

“No.” Virgil said, trying to squirm away but finding himself stuck between Prince and the wall. Roman didn’t even attempt to hide his smug grin, anymore. This was going to be so much fun

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you freaking dare!!” His friend only laid down again, now carefully, yet firmly, pulling him one more time against his chest, growling playfully. Years and years fighting for the Tickle Monster title on his family, battles and battles against Remus only sharpening his skills, which showed by the way his fingers seemed to find every single weak spot on Virgil’s skin, wiggles, scribbles, pokes and scratching exploring everywhere. “No! Nononono! You fucker, you moron, you bitch, you-” A few chuckles cut his curses as he one wearing pajamas squeezed his side a couple of times, the tip of his fingers also teasing his ticklish stomach. “Roman!!”

“No, no, my so dear, so ticklish, friend. Roman is no longer here, this is…” He paused for a dramatic effect, basically beaming at the giggly giggles and wiggly wiggles from the other. He shoved his face on his neck, the next words vibrating almost as bad as the spidering on his ribs. “The Tickle Monster!!”

#Cursing #This is inspired on a meme I saw that was basically two beans staring each other like ':0' with the legend 'Me waking up at 5 AM' and-#- 'My roomate going to sleep at 5 AM'#Idk why but this is so funny to me xDDD #I will probably use that exact scenario in others fics in the future #Lee!Virgil #Ler!Roman #Ticklish!Virgil #Sanders Sides tickles #Sanders Sides tickling #Kanene's Fanfic #Kanene's Fic #Kanene's Art #I couldn't write the tickles here for some reason xDD Honestly if someone want to continue the idea/fic pls feel free to!#I really like this idea xP

120 notes · View notes

gisellelx · 4 years ago

Note

What are some of your favorite Carlward fics?

So there are three that you are likely to find me just idly re-reading. Where I’m working on something and I’m just like, “Nope, need to revisit that one.” I’ll go on a bit about them since there are only a handful. Bittersweet Hurt by Minerva One

This was my first go-round at CarlWard and I love it to pieces. Even though I tread some of the same water in Patroclus Rising, it’s never not fresh. What I love about this is that she starts from the question I always feel is central: why Edward? It’s a question I’m never not trying to answer in my own work. Sometimes I’m in Carlisle’s POV, sometimes in Edward’s, currently in Bella’s, but it’s always about that to me. The saga is about that to me. The emotion in this one is just pitch-fucking-perfect. The build is slow and hot, the inevitability that the two are going to come together and that Carlisle’s going to be the reason everything goes to pieces--it’s just amazing. It gets at the ways in which Carlisle is utterly inadequate, completely not ready for what he started, and it just strips both of them bare, figuratively and delightfully literally. It also is tight. I think a lot of fanfic benefits from being novella-length--long enough to let the writer stretch out a bit, but short enough it doesn’t leave a novice writer scrambling trying to find the next plot point. This is beautifully plotted and leaves me a little breathless each time. I actually haven’t re-read it in awhile and need to. Intervention by AllTheOtherNamesAreUsed

Let’s take a left turn. Okay, so now here’s where people are either going to have to come along with me or throw me out, ha ha ha. I er, happen to headcanon that Carlisle, being a kind of uptight, workaholic, who feels like he has to be in control of everything all the time--six vampire children, the process of hiding his family, the lives of his patients--would seek catharsis, somewhere. He needs some way of being safe, of allowing his mind to blank with those he loves. So the fact that this fic, written for a kinkfest meme, also happens to begin with my other favorite Carlisle sex headcanon, which is that he enjoys Esme putting him into subspace, is icing on a really nice CarlWard cake. The middle of the fic (spoiler all the Cullens are poly) I can kind of take or leave--it’s an enjoyable read but I don’t love it the way I love the first and last two chapters. The final two chapters of this kinkfic are romantic, feral Edward/Carlisle. One of the things I love most about it is that she doesn’t back away from the paternal stuff. This is post-BD, and they are carefully re-aligning what it means for Edward to still very much be Carlisle’s son and yet for them to evolve that relationship a bit. There’s a line in there about Carlisle’s love giving Edward roots and Bella’s giving him wings that is just so right.

Trouble Follows by LyricalKris

I am too much of a lover of the vamp world to enjoy AH much. To me, Twilight is indeed as a semi-viral tumblr post put it, the story of a loving adorable couple and their chaos vampire children. I literally lose track of the characters in AH fic; it’s not enjoyable for me to read. I’ve been friends with Kris for--gosh I guess over a decade now and I forget when she told me I needed to look at Trouble but I finally did and whipped through the 2.333 books in the series in a couple days. As I wrote above, I hc Carlisle as a sub, so I wasn’t sure I could handle an AH with him as a dom. But it works. I link the second one because while erotic scenes are always fun, I find a good plot and character conflict sexier than anything else you can put down on the page. The first book is mostly sexytimes with a little growth sprinkled in, but in this, the second installment, there’s just such a lovely build of conflict around the two and between the two, and she sold me on a perfectly in-canon, non-vampire Carlisle and that’s a tall fucking order.

These are all mutli-chaps. Three shorts I revisit with some regularity are

Everything in its Right Place by Avioleta. Again, this is a really nice one dealing with Carlisle wrestling with his feelings for both Edward and Esme; it has some deliciously angsty parts and is brilliantly researched.

Red Geraniums by Pastiche Pen. Also one of the few AHs I re-read. It’s actually William I like in this story. In fact, I don’t know if she ever named Carlisle’s father in it. His name is William, fight me. :) The coupling in this one is great but like Trouble, it’s the plot here that gets me. A man coming to grips with his sexuality after he’s already done some things he regrets.

Not a Monster, My Love by dyly. I don’t even remember how I stumbled on this one. It’s less well-written than my brain will usually put up with (I try really hard not to be a writing snob, I promise but some things just pull me out of a story) but the H/C just really works in this short in a way that’s hot and beautiful at once. So there are six. @edwardsmate4ever I suspect you’ve probably hit all of them before, but perhaps others haven’t. I am never not here for a good CarlWard rec, especially if it’s vamp, so feel free to hit my inbox with them.

#carlisle cullen #edward cullen #carlisle x edward #carlward #fanfiction #recs #I'm wordy af and I refuse to apologize #I'm sorry I'm wordy af

31 notes · View notes

simmancy · 4 years ago

Note

Fine then. The REST for Ojaddy that haven't been answered yet pls and thank

for the record, this is because all Sam sent at first was

and I said that was cheating

this does have sim spice in it so. you know. don’t look. please.

1. What are things they both find funny?

Their senses of humor are pretty similar, probably because they... developed similarly. It’s gotten darker with recent years, they make a lot of rather dark jokes to one another.

But in general, they can be goofy with one another. They probably speak often in memes.

3. If they complimented each other, what would they say?

OJ would probably abstain from this question--Maddy prefers less vocal compliments, anyway.

Maddy: “He’s always right, even when I don’t want him to be.”

4. What would be their ship name?

Ojaddy was the officially decided one, it was MOJ in my earliest notes.

7. Write a ~300 word love scene for them.

8. What were their first impressions of each other?

Who knows at this point? They don’t know where their memories of each other begin.

17. What senses (sights, smells, feelings, etc). remind them of each other?

The smells of Brindleton Bay in general--especially around the dock/their houses growing up, so the sea, salt air, sand between toes. A bit of beach bonfire for Maddy specifically--OJ associates Maddy with fire for the obvious reason that she is wild.

Additionally, OJ sort of begins to associate the creaking of floorboards with Maddy returning home.

18. What would be their love motto?

Physically: palm kisses. They say a lot with the palm kisses, it’s just their personal way of de-escalating a situation while still saying “I love you, endlessly.”

Other than that, I guess... There’s the line in Dress by Taylor Swift--”I don’t want you like a best friend.” That. They want each other more than like best friends. She really only bought that dress so he could take it off one day.

19. If they could each write a single line in their marriage vows, what would they be?

I will always return to your side. (OJ: like a boomerang. Maddy: yes exactly)

20. What is a promise they have made to each other?

Besides the one mentioned earlier? They’ve promised to remain in PB Bay, to be close to Kabi of course.

21. How have they changed each other for the better/for the worse?

Well they hunted vampires together for a bit, so that’s pretty cool.

OJ makes Maddy think more about the world around her. Maddy makes OJ braver.

22. If their lives were what was originally intended at birth, would they have still fallen in love?

Oh... Probably, yes. I think they were always going to be each other’s first loves.

If Maddy had gone the vampire path, she probably would have tried to take OJ with her, tbh................................ A much scarier end of gen 3, tbh.

23. Write a ~300 scene between them with no dialogue, only body language.

24. What is something they have each had to forgive the other for?

Maddy puts herself in constant danger. OJ has to be the “bad guy” and bring her back to earth. They forgive each other for these facts every day.

OKAY STOP READING HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 THANKS SUPER APPRECIATE IT actually just stop reading here period if you don’t mind

25. What moves do they know work on the other?

Fangplay for OJ. The second teeth touch skin he’s done..... Maddy is almost always willing to go, though. OJ could just like, walk by her and say, “Hey beautiful,” and she would grab for his junk. When we did the Shipping thing, I filled in her horny levels at MAXIMUM and I stand by that.

26. What are their favorite parts about physical affection/sex?

Is all of it a cop out? They are both CONSTANTLY physical with one another. I think it’s about the reality of it--they spent a long time believing it wasn’t happening, and then it couldn’t happen, and then it shouldn’t happen... That when it did happen, they learned how to revel in it. It’s their own private thing. It’s just theirs.

27. Do they have any kinks/fetishes that they share?

The aforementioned fangplay (which he gets in on sometimes! He bites back when she wants!). Maddy is the dominant one--OJ prefers to submit to her whims ahaha.

28. Write a ~300 fantasy one of them has about the other.

Cool great, so actually, when I was writing.... I’m gonna talk about it real quick because I feel like I have to. And honestly, looking at what I have here, I could probably take nonsense out of this ... thing ... for the love scene and the “scene with just body language” because that’s legitimately all this thing is and uGH OKAY HERE WE GO BYE.

So I felt like writing-writing, and I decided to write OJ and Maddy getting together (which there are pictures for), because I wanted to. And AS I wrote it, Madeleine Moon escalated at every turn, so what we got was actually... Her fulfilling her teenage fantasy because she’s mad with power, and it’s of course also OJ’s teenage fantasy because holy shit he has Maddy in his bedroom so.

I’m EMBARASSED but here is an excerpt from my embarassing secret Ojaddy smut document:

“You really don’t have to, not if you don’t want,” he mumbles, a hand on her bare waist. She laughs and kisses the top of his head.

“But I do want to,” she whispers back, reaching and pulling his shirt over his head. She looks away from him to survey his body, before returning her gaze to his. “Don’t you want me?”

“Yes but—”

“No, no buts but this one.” She moves his hand to her ass, and squeezes for him.

OJ sighs, frustrated. “But this is my—I mean—I always thought—”

“I always thought it’d be in my room,” she confides, stripping her crop top off. Her bra is lacy and black. It’d look great on the floor. “That one day you’d be brave enough to just... Come in and say something stupid, but romantic. And maybe I just wouldn’t be able to stop myself.”

“H-how?”

“Well, I’d sit just like this,” she says, straddling him. One arm is around his neck. “And I’d begin kissing you, starting... mmm... here.” She leans forward, and he moves to meet her lips, but she kisses the blade of his shoulder, then a trail of fire up his neck. “And... maybe my hand would end up here.” It’s on his chest, moving up and down. He isn’t imagining that she’s admiring him. Her mouth has reached higher now, she’s nibbling on his earlobe. “Maybe you’re brave and touch me back,” she whispers, and he can’t help shivering. His hand is still on her waist, but he’s gripping her tightly, fingernails drawing circles on her back. He wonders if it’ll leave a mark, if she’d like that. Her hand is now hovering, fingertips just ghosting over the front of his shorts. “And maybe I’m especially brave.” She unzips them, slides down to her knees in front of him and her hand reaches and it’s so much, all of this. He groans out her name, every name—Mads, Maddy, Madeleine, like it’s a prayer.

tldr - their real life is a fantasy, Maddy’s fantasy was getting in OJ’s pants, OJ’s fantasy was letting her, now they get to explore fantasies with each other! a true happy ending for everyone

29. What are each of their signature foreplay moves?

This is really just Sam trying to get me to release the smut document huh

OJ’s is kissing Maddy all over. Literally. All over, until she goes feral. So. Edging.

Maddy’s is, of course, biting. Biting and seeing how fast she can get OJ in the mood. This is especially fun when he is supposed to be doing anything else.

30. Write a short exchange of dirty talk between them.

pls don’t make me do that. literally all their dirty talk is asking the other “is this okay” and saying the other’s name

31. What do they love to do after sex?

Naptime in the afterglow

32. Do they enjoy morning or night sex?

Night, for sure. If they start in the morning... They don’t leave bed.

literally i want to crawl into a hole and die but also maybe finish the bad smut document because I stopped right before they got Into it and then ran off and wrote a very, very, VERY different piece and literally all i’ve done for two weeks is written ojaddy and worked on the gen 4 save from the ground up.

#otp asks #ask game #there is sadly sim spice under the cut so i guess dont read it #actually dont read it at all #samssimscc #ask #saviorhide #literally gonna go hide ok bye

32 notes · View notes

pengychan · 5 years ago

Text

[Good Omens] Winging It - John 15:15

Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon Rating: T

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: A good chunk of what happened in this chapter was not planned. I am really bad at planning.

***

“All right, let’s see - three options, no?”

“Yes. Owen Brown, Lawrence Brown, and Rusty Brown. According to the information--”

“It’s Rusty,” Crowley spoke up, causing both Gabriel and Aziraphale to fall quiet and turn to look at him. Gabriel was utterly confused; Azirapale just raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain that knowledge. The demon shrugged.

“I refuse to believe any parent whose surname is Brown would willingly choose to pick Rusty as their child’s name, unless there was a demonic intervention. It’s a bully magnet. Must have picked it himself when older. The man’s got a sense of humor.”

A chuckle. “We raised a child whose mother named him Warlock,” Aziraphale reminded him, causing Gabriel to blink.

“You did-- what?” he asked. To his knowledge there were a lot of things an angel and a demon were not supposed to do together - they were supposed to do nothing together, really, except trying to thwart each other at every turn - and Gabriel suspected that ‘raising a child’ came rather close to the top of that list. Maybe slightly below ‘stopping the Apocalypse’.

Crowley ignored him, rolling his eyes. “You know the Satanic nuns of the Chattering Order of St Beryl must have had something to do with it.” “The who and the what now?” Gabriel tried again. This time, it was Aziraphale to ignore him.

“That is… fair. But we cannot rule out the possibility his parents did pick the name, and that therefore he is not our man. May I remind you we once knew a lady called Farting Clack?”

Crowley chuckled. “Ah, Victorians. That was a fun time. Except when we argued because you wouldn’t give me holy water.”

“I did eventually, give it a rest.”

“You did what!” Gabriel exclaimed, outraged. Only to be, again, ignored.

“Took you a good while, is what I’m saying.”

“Well, excuse me for worrying you might accidentally--” Aziraphale trailed off like something had struck him, and Crowley flinched. They both turned to Gabriel at the exact same time; Aziraphale’s eyes were wide, Crowley’s were hidden behind glasses.

And Gabriel was very, very confused.

“... What?” he asked. The demon’s expression stayed unreadable, but Aziraphale’s anxious one melted in a smile. A very nervous smile. What in the--

“So, three options,” Aziraphale exclaimed, clapping his hands together with exaggerated glee. “Best to start looking into them, no?”

“Er… yes, I suppose. I do need to figure out where they live, at least. Then I suppose I can go by exclusion, visiting each of them.”

Crowley nodded. “Well, good thing we have an expert in tracking people down right here,” he said, and turned to Aziraphale. Gabriel followed suit, only for Aziraphale to blink at both of them like a particularly confused owl.

It… didn’t give Gabriel much confidence over his supposed expertise in tracking down people.

“I am-- no expert in tracking down people.”

Crowley’s turn to look confused. “You tracked down the Antichrist.”

“I had a book full of prophecies to give me pointers. I suspect that counts as cheating.”

“Or as an intelligent use of available resources,” Gabriel suggested. Aziraphale chuckled.

“That does sound better.”

“Ah. Right. We sure could use something like that now,” the demon muttered, and pulled out a phone from the… frankly ridiculously tiny pockets of his trousers, where no phone would fit unless there was a literal miracle at play. “... But at least we have the names and birthday, so there’s that. All right, first one, Owen Brown…”

***

“You’re shitting me.”

“Mr. Brown, I can assure you angels do not do that, either.” Uriel’s voice was calm, but her hands did grip the clipboard a little harder. She had hardly ever visited the lower spheres of Heaven where mortal souls resided before that ordeal, and now she was beginning to see why. “Please, do try to control your language.”

“Right, right, sorry,” Daniel Brown waved his hand, leaning back on his seat. “Not in front of a lady. Got it.”

“... I am an angel, Mr. Brown,” Uriel pointed out flatly just as the man’s wife, sitting by him, raised an eyebrow.

“Since when do you try not to curse in front of ladies? Because I can’t recall you holding back much in the twenty-something years we have been married.”

“You’re not a lady, you’re the wife. You knew the cussing was part of the package by the time we got to the altar, shouldn’t have married down,” Daniel Brown pointed out, and smiled. “Still not a clue why you gave me a chance when we met.”

She smiled back. “One too many drinks.”

“Ah, a drunken mistake, then.”

“The second best mistake of my life.”

“... Wait, what’s the first--”

Uriel held back a sigh. “Yes. Well. Regardless, what I have told you is true. You do have a brother as opposed to a sister as you believed.”

Daniel Brown rubbed his face. “Jesus Christ.”

“I repeat, there is no need to involve him,” Uriel droned. Mortals were a lot more difficult to deal with than she remembered, but then again last time she had directly dealt with any had been a few millennia earlier, when the trend was showing up with several pairs of wings, a few heads, wheels of fire and a handful of eyes here and there. They would occasionally die of fright but for the most part, once the screaming had ceased, they were cowed enough to politely listen.

And never did accuse them of, quote, shitting them.

“Right, I-- sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I just-- it’s a lot. First I die, it’s kind of, I mean, new. Then I met my wife again - wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but I thought I had lost her for-- well, it is a lot.” He cleared his throat again; Liv Brown reached to take his hand and squeezed it. He held it back. “Then, turns out the slightly weird but not-bad-at-all guy who helped me land a job and befriended me was the literal Archangel fuck-- the Archangel Gabriel in exile. And now you’re telling me that Alison is not… Alison anymore, and that I wasted over a decade searching for her-- him-- on wrong information.”

Well. Perhaps it was, indeed, a lot to deal with for any human mind. Uriel made an effort to smile. “Gabriel is currently working on locating him so he can give him news of your passing. If there is anything more specific you wish him to know, within reason--”

“Within reason?”

“Except letting him know you’re sending this message from beyond death. That, I am afraid, is forbidden by current guidelines.” Uriel took a blank piece of paper she had on her clipboard and placed it on the table, along with a pen. “It will be given to Gabriel, and he’ll relay your message once your brother is found. It’s what he does best, after all.”

“... Heh. From announcing the birth of Christ to telling my brother I’m sorry I was a dick. Bit of a downgrade, but life is shi-- crap, anyway.” Daniel Brown chuckled and took the pen, but didn’t start writing yet. He looked at her questioningly. “… Why was he cast out? What happened?”

He’d asked before, and Uriel had told him it was none of his business, if not precisely using those exact words. When that had happened, her memories of Gabriel were few and in-between, and she was no longer sure the events had been precisely as they’d remembered and recorded for future reference.

Now that those memories were back - only of Gabriel, none of them had dared bring up the possibility of trying to remember other angels who were no more - she could tell him the details, if so she wished.

She did not, in fact, wish to. But it was not for her to decide.

“... I will ask Gabriel whether he wishes us to share that information with you,” she finally said. Daniel Brown seemed to realize it was the most he could hope for and he just nodded before he looked down, swallowed, put the pen to the paper, and began writing.

***

“He’s writing back!”

“Is he?”

“Yes. That’s what the dots mean. He’s typing.”

“This was… surprisingly easy.”

“Oh, I know. Whatever demon worked on Zuckerberg got a promotion, I heard. Got to admit, that Cambridge Analytica affair was a stroke of genius.”

“Ah, so that was Hell’s doing.”

“I’m amazed you doubted that for even a moment.”

Gabriel supposed he might have guessed what Aziraphale and his demon were talking about if he focused, but he did not: all he could do was stare at the screen of Crowley’s phone, at those dots as the man at the other end - Rusty Brown, a man with rather debatable taste in t-shirts who, according to his profile, had indeed been born in Plymouth seventy years earlier but did not resemble Daniel in the slightest - wrote his response.

Maybe it is him, he thought. It would be a stroke of luck for Daniel’s brother to turn out to be the only man they’d been able to find and approach through social media; an easy way to deliver a message if there ever was one. That would be good. Too good, given Gabriel’s recent luck.

And, within moments, a message came to confirm as much.

“I’m afraid you got the wrong man, I have two sisters and no brothers,” Rusty Brown had written. “Sorry - best of luck with your search.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Ah, I supposed that would have been too easy.”

“No such thing as something too easy. I like it when things are easy.” Crowley frowned at his phone. “And here I thought he was the most likely candidate. Let me see…” he mumbled, and began typing. Gabriel craned his neck to see the screen.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking if his sisters are among his friends.”

“... Why?”

“If their parents went and named him Rusty, I’m curious to see-- ah, Scarlet and Sandy Brown. Not sure I want to imagine what grade school was like for them,” he muttered, and blocked the screen. “Well. One’s out, two left.”

“And we did find one Owen Brown on the electoral register whose age fits,” Aziraphale added glancing at Gabriel. “If only we could figure out the place of birth, we’d know if he’s the Owen Brown on our list. But it’d be quicker to go speak to him, he lives in Luton. No phone number - probably no landline.”

Gabriel, who had only a very vague idea of where Luton was, nodded. “I’ll go find him, then. I took the rest of the week off specifically for this,” he added. What he was doing for Daniel was of paramount importance, of course, but he was also needed at work and disappearing with no warning would have been extremely unprofessional.

Aziraphale waved a hand. “It won’t take long. Crowley and I can take you--”

“Absolutely not," Crowley declared, cutting him off. Aziraphale turned to glance at him. Crowley crossed his arms and tilted up his chin, clearly ready to stand by what he’d said.

A sigh. “Crowley, it wouldn’t take more than--”

"We're not going with him. We'll put him on the first train, give him a map, and good luck to him."

"Now, dear. Luton is not that far, it would take less than a hour with the Bentley and you wouldn't even need to take the M25--"

"It’s not the M25 that’s the problem,” Crowley replied. “After driving down it while on fire, I don’t think it’s going to ever feel like a problem on a normal day again. Luton is the problem.”

"... Something in particular about it that I don't know about?"

"Last time I was there, I got stabbed."

"Oh. That does sound bothersome,” Aziraphale conceded. “What did you do to--"

"I walked in a pub."

“And then?”

“Nothing. I walked in a pub and got stabbed by someone who decided he didn’t like the way I was looking at him.”

“Were you not wearing sunglasses?”

“Of course I was.”

“Then how would he know--”

“He didn’t. He just was in a stabby mood.”

“Charming,” Aziraphale muttered.

“Luton,” Crowley huffed.

“Well, it was probably quite a while ago--”

“The Nineties were not that long ago.”

“I… can go on my own,” Gabriel dared intervene, trying not to sound overly worried by what he was hearing. “I’ve taken trains to come here, after all. It wasn’t difficult.”

Aziraphale seemed a little concerned regardless, but in the end he relented, and Crowley did drive him to the station the next morning, to catch a train for Luton. With that, the address and money for a cab, Gabriel was rather sure he was at no risk of getting lost.

And he’d make sure not to step in any pub, just in case.

***

“... Not the bloke you’re looking for, no. Sorry, mate.”

“Ah-- well, I suppose it was worth a try. I’ll be on my way. My apologies for the intrusion.”

“No, wait - I was about to go have a pint with some mates, come with us. It’s on me.”

“Really, I cannot accept--”

“You can, young man. Won’t let you go your way looking like someone kicked you. A pint or two always makes it better - just a quiet night out with the lads.”

“Well…” Gabriel hesitated a moment, then relented. A pint or two was nothing he couldn’t take - he’d had nights out like that in Southampton, first with Daniel and then with other colleagues. And besides, the man was in his late sixties; surely, things wouldn’t get too out of hand. In the end, he smiled and nodded. “... Only if you let me pay the second round,” he said.

He did pay the second round. Owen Brown paid the third. A friend of his paid the fourth; Gabriel insisted to pay the fifth.

Afterwards, he wouldn’t be entirely sure any of them was paying at all.

***

Ever since regaining his memories of Gabriel - and before then, really - Sandalphon had wondered what meeting him face to face again would be like. Last he’d seen him, Gabriel had been terrified of him, hiding behind Beelzebub of all beings; it was not a pleasant thought.

He could speak with Michael without fear now, at least, and Sandalphon hoped it was only a matter of time before he would willingly summon him, too, so that they could talk. Clear up, if possible, even if it would be a difficult conversation.

What he had not expected was for Gabriel to summon him by drunkenly shouting his name in the back of a pub in Luton, England, before the eyes of a group of drunken humans who cheered at his appearance like it was a magic trick while someone from inside yelled about not firing fireworks close to buildings.

And Gabriel looked… almost more dishevelled than he’d been when he had been cast out of Heaven, except that now he had No blood on him and a smile on his face almost too wide to be physically possible.

“San-dal-phon,” Gabriel had slurred, throwing an arm around his shoulders before he could say a word and turning to the humans. “This is my friend, guys!”

“I, uh…” Sandalphon had blinked as the humans raised their glasses and cheered. He chose to give a polite smile. “Greetings,” he said. Some responded to his greeting, some just drank, someone put a glass in his hand, and he stared at it for a few moments before realising they expected him to drink.

“Good,” Gabriel was muttering, arm still around his shoulders. Strange as his behavior was, it was… nice to see he was not afraid of him. “Good stuff. Try.”

Ah well, Sandalphon thought, may as well do as he asked. It wasn’t like a glass of whatever concoction the humans had offered him could hurt an angel, anyway.

***

“Uuuugh.”

“Owww.”

“Head hurts.”

“Where are we?”

“... Earth?”

“This isn’t Heaven for sure.” Gabriel sat up, fighting back a wave of nausea, and blinked blearily to put his surroundings into focus. They were in… someone’s back garden, it seemed, on what looked like a semi-inflated camping mattress. “Probably still Luton,” he muttered, rubbing his face, and turned. Whose house was that? He’d only seen Owen Brown’s home from the front, so it was hard to tell. God, they must have been blind drunk to crash like that. The sun was just rising, and he barely remembered a handful of moments from the night before.

Behind him, Sandalphon was struggling to sit up as well, his suit all wrinkled; Gabriel suspected his own suit looked about as much of a mess, and went to uselessly smooth down the front. “You… miracled the glasses full a few times, didn’t you?”

“I think? I-- ah, yes. Yes I did. In front of witnesses.”

“Drunk witnesses. They will either forget about it, or think they dreamed it up.”

“God, I hope so. If Michael finds out, I’m going to be in trouble.”

“You can sleep on my couch if they cast you out,” Gabriel tried to joke, trying to brush back his hair and entirely missing the uncomfortable look Sandalphon gave him. “Agh, my head…”

“Wait, I can fix that.” A touch on the back of his head, and the pain was gone - as was the hangover as a whole, the unpleasant taste in his mouth and the ache in his lower back. Gabriel stood, glancing down - his suit was once again clean and pressed, too.

“... Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He heard Sandalphon standing up as well, and turned to look at him as he miracled his own clothing back in pristine condition. He adjusted his collar, and cleared his throat. “Well, that was… an unusual evening.”

“It was,” Gabriel agreed. “Er… why are you here in the first place?”

“You summoned me?”

“I did?” Ah, he probably had. “... My apologies. I was intoxicated.”

“I could tell. But-- still better than having you scream and hide behind the Prince of Hell, no?” Sandalphon added, clearly trying to joke. His smile froze when Gabriel flinched - at the mention of Beelzenbub, namely, but Sandalphon couldn’t tell. “I mean-- sorry. Shouldn’t have brought it up. I know you have… good reason to want us to keep away.”

A sigh. “Do I?” Gabriel muttered, turning to face him fully. “I knew you wouldn’t have harmed me again. And I knew you didn’t have a choice when you did."

“But we sort of did,” Sandalphon said, meeting his gaze. “We could have refused and-- gone with you.”

“Rebelling to God on my account?” Gabriel repeated, and found himself unable to contemplate the thought. “You’d have found yourselves in Hell, and not Earth, for something like that. It doesn't bear thinking about,” he added, realizing the truth of it only as it passed his lips. Say that Michael, Uriel and Sandalphon had indeed refused to carry out God’s order - what then? They would have faced God’s wrath, probably thrown down in Hell, while Gabriel was stripped of his wings and cast down on Earth anyway.

And Gabriel found he couldn’t bear the thought.

“We… we should have--”

“It doesn’t matter. The outcome wouldn’t have changed,” Gabriel cut him off. “It was… out of your hands. No point thinking about it now.”

A long breath. “All right. But I am-- glad we still remember you.”

Something about those words warmed up a spot in Gabriel’s chest. He smiled. “Thank you. I’m glad I never forgot you.”

“If there is anything you need-- anything at all--”

A sudden whistling noise caused Sandalphon to cut off, and Gabriel to pull out his mobile phone from his pocket. The battery was still full - a little miracle by Aziraphale ensured it never ran out - and there was a flashing icon on the screen, that of a text message. The number was not among his contacts, but Gabriel suspected he could guess who it came from.

He simply didn’t really know anyone else whose number could possibly be 666-666-666. No one he was on speaking terms with, anyway.

Are we still on speaking terms?

Gabriel forced himself to ignore the thought, and opened the text message. There was a name, an address, followed by only three words: it is him.

Gabriel read the message again, then put the phone back in his pocket. He briefly touched his breast pocket, where the message Daniel had written was. He had memorized it, of course, so he could relay it to his brother, but what he hadn’t thrown it away; the reason why he had not were a few brief lines Daniel had written on the back of it that were not addressed to his brother.

They were addressed to him.

Thank you for doing this for me. Sorry I didn’t believe you when you said who you were but, I mean, come on. I miss having you around. You’re a good man, what does God know anyway? Hug my brother for me and give the guys at work a pat on the back. PS - Fabrizio was right, putting cream in carbonara does land you in Hell. Warn Łukasz to stop.

“Gabriel? Everything all right?” Sandalphon asked, and he looked up.

“... Yes. I do need a favor, though.”

“Anything.”

“Could you give me a lift to Devon, by any chance?”

***

In the end, Lawrence Brown hadn’t moved too far from his old home in Plymouth. Or maybe he had, and made the decision to return to Devon in his later years; not something Gabriel could blame him for. Built by the sea, Paignton seemed a good place to live.

The house Gabriel found himself looking at, too, seemed the perfect place to spend one’s retirement; a small white cottage with flowers in the garden, and a tree for some shade. However it seemed that no one was home, which was not something Gabriel had really prepared for. After knocking the door a few times to no avail, and briefly considering writing a message with his phone number - not viable, as he didn’t have a pen - he decided it would be best to try again later. Before he went, however, he tried to glance in through the window, just in case--

“... May I help you?”

A voice called out behind him, causing Gabriel to flinch and turn. He found himself facing what, for a moment, looked very much like a cloud; a very white and very fluffy cloud, with four legs, black eyes and a lolling tongue. A-- yes, a dog. Gabriel had been long aware of their existence, of course, but would never cease to be perplexed by the sheer variety of shapes and forms within what was essentially the same animal.

He’d never really wondered how humans had achieved that, but then again, humans were capable of more than he had thought possible for a long time - up to looking at some of God’s most efficient killing machines on Earth and somehow deciding they were going to make friends out of them, tying themselves to said killing machines with a length of rope. Or leather. Or fabric.

In this one case, it was leather specifically that tied that giant, smiling cloud of a dog to its human. A woman, somewhere between sixty and seventy, with gray hair pulled up in a bun, a rather oversized jumper, and thick black-rimmed glasses. She was looking at him questioningly, and Gabriel cleared his throat, giving his best smile.

Come on, he told himself, you’re the Messenger. You have delivered far odder messages than this one. Just don’t start with ‘do not be afraid’. They always freak out when you do.

“I think you may, yes,” he said, still smiling. “My name is Gabriel Archer. I’m looking for Mr. Lawrence Brown. I understand he lives at this address?”

“Oh,” the woman said, “I’m afraid my husband is out for some errands, but he should be back shortly. I don’t believe we’ve met,” she added, not stepping closer. A little wary of a stranger she found peering through her window - Gabriel supposed that was normal, even if he hadn’t showed up in the midst of golden light with a vast array of otherworldly and, he could see it now, frankly unnecessary features for the task.

The fluffy white cloud made a boofing sound, just kind of smiling at him, and Gabriel could see why she wasn’t counting too much on it being of any protection should he turn out to be… what did humans seem to fear again? Axe murderers? Gabriel certainly hoped he didn’t look like one.

“No, we have not,” he said. “Nor have I had the pleasure to meet your husband yet - I have… a message for him. From his late brother,” he added quickly.

Whatever she had been expecting, that was not it. She blinked, recoiling a little. “... From his brother?” she repeated.

“Yes. Daniel Brown,” he said, and saw some recognition in her eyes.

“He… talked about him, a few times, but not much,” the woman muttered, and it was easy to tell, from her expression alone, that it had been a sore spot for Mr. Lawrence Brown - the brother who had rejected him so long ago. She finally took a step forward, clearly reassured he was someone with an actual reason to be there that did not include mugging or violent murder. “Late-- has he passed away?”

“... I am afraid he has. I am sorry,” Gabriel murmured, and he truly was. It felt wrong, on every level, because it should have been Daniel to stand where he stood, to finally see his brother again after so long. He was meant to be a messenger but ah, he wished he didn’t have to be now. “I am here on his behalf, or… at least I picked up the search where he left off.”

“Are you his solicitor, or…?”

“Only a friend. Daniel had been looking for your husband to make amends, but he didn’t know… his current name.”

A sigh. “Of course, he would not,” she murmured, and finally stepped closer, holding out her hand. By her side, the cloud-dog kept wagging its tail, tongue still lolling. “I’m Berenice,” she said. “Lawrence’s wife, though you gathered that much. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Archer. ”

Gabriel smiled. “The pleasure is all mine,” he said, shaking her hand. When he let go of it, it immediately went to rest on the dog’s head.

“Well, it is awfully rude of me to keep you standing at my door like a salesman. Do come in. Lawrence should be back soon, or else he would have taken his walking stick. I still would very much prefer if he took it for short walks as well. He has a bad knee and I always tell him that his stupid kneecap doesn’t give a toss how long or short the walk is, when it decides to give in it gives in and he’d be in for a nasty fall without the stick. But he’s a stubborn old goat, of course. Pushing seventy and still acting like he’s twenty.”

Gabriel smiled, thinking back of the numerous occasions Daniel had insisted on picking up more weight than he could reasonably carry in the warehouse, just to show off, only to spend the entire evening complaining about his back ache… and then do it all over again the next day. “Seems stubbornness ran in the family.”

A chuckle. “I am sure he’ll be glad to hear more about what his brother was like,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness. Gabriel hoped it would help, although nothing could change the fact he was there to inform Lawrence Brown of the untimely death of his younger brother.

“... I do hope I can give him more than bad news,” he said, and followed Berenice inside, daring to pat that dog-shaped cloud on the head to receive a soft boof and a very pleased look.

Maybe, Gabriel reasoned, the humans were on to something when they took killing machines and chose to make friends out of them.

***

"I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you." -- John 15:15

***

[Back]

[Next]

#good omens #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable husbands #archangel gabriel #beelzebub #crowley #aziraphale #sandalphon #archangel uriel #winging it

18 notes · View notes

mistymark · 6 years ago

Text

the one with no curtains [2] [fluff ver.] // m.k.l

mark lee x reader // university!au // 4.0k // masterlist

summary; in which mark lives opposite y/n and doesn’t seem to own curtains

requested; sorta

warnings; it gets a little saucy? *not smutty*

notes; unedited I literally just wrote this in a few hours so I hope y'all like it :)) part one is here, and this is a separate story to the angst ver. like theyre happening simultaneously not one after the other. though, if you read the angst ver you might be familiar with a few of these scenes :))))

You continued on with your day, relying on your coffee date with Mark to get you through the day. The excitement building in your stomach as you finished your last class of the day almost hit a breaking point as you rushed from the room, eager to find your friend.

She was waiting for you outside the library, books in hand as she looked down at her phone. You called to her, grinning and waving from the top of the staircase that led to the grand building. “Y/n!” She smiled at you, attempting to give you a hug as she wrestled with the many textbooks in her hand. “Sorry, I just grabbed my new textbooks from the office and they’re so heavy. Come here.” She held her arm out to you. You opened your mouth to offer her some help with the stack of books but someone beat you to it.

“I’ll grab those,” a hand swooped underneath her arm to grab the textbooks from her hands, and you looked up to see a rather tall guy smiling widely at your friend. “Hi.”

The look of surprise that flickered across her face dropped as she returned his smile, “Hi, what are you doing here? Our date isn’t for another, like, hour.”

“I know, I just wanted to come see you,” he shrugged, cradling her new textbooks in his arms, his laptop bag slung across his body. “Plus, you should be glad I’m here; these are heavy.”

“I could have managed.”

The boy tore his glance from her and looked at you, “Oh, hi. I don’t think we’ve met; I’m Johnny.” He attempted to hold out a hand to you, but thought better of it when he almost dropped all of the books in his hands. He gave you an apologetic grin and you chuckled.

“I figured,” you laughed. “It’s nice to meet you, Johnny. I’m Y/n.”

You watched his eyes widen slightly, before the easy smile made its way back onto his face. He nodded, turning to his girlfriend, “Are we heading back to your place?”

She nodded and, rolling her eyes, grabbed two textbooks from the pile in his hands, “Yeah, but tell me if they’re too heavy, okay? We can switch.”

Your friend’s relationship with Johnny was so adorable, you loved hanging out with them. They agreed to walk back to your apartment building – so he could help her with her books – then split off to get ready for their date. You heard Johnny groan jokingly at the weight of her books, but veer away from your friend’s attempt to grab another from the pile to lighten the load. As you walked beside them, you couldn’t help but wish for the same thing; a fun, adorable relationship. With Mark, a part of your brain thought.

You pushed the thought away, instead opting to tease your friend about a funny story she was telling. Part of you was nervous for your coffee date with Mark, which was bizarre as you frequently went out for coffee at this time.

After mentioning the restaurant Johnny was taking her, you found yourself thinking back to Mark again, and shook your head.

“What about you, Y/n? Any plans for tonight?” Johnny looked sideways at you, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Oh, yeah, sort of. One of my friends and I are going out for coffee later, but other than that I’ll probably just study,” you smiled at him.

You watched his smile grow wider and his eyes lit up, “Oh, cool. Bit late for coffee, don’t you think?”

“It’s a tradition, I guess,” you shrugged, hoping that your blush wouldn’t give away how much you were looking forward to tonight.

“It’ll help her get through the hours of study we all do at 1am,” your friend added, bumping her shoulder into Johnny’s, his much taller frame barely moving as you walked. She shot him a pointed look at him.

He opened his mouth in faux shock, “What? I’m a superior being whose brain works at its optimum in the early hours of the morning.”

You laughed, “Amen to that.”

“So things with Johnny seem to be going pretty well, huh?” You quirked an eyebrow at your friend once you were safely in her room. Johnny had divided the remaining textbooks equally between you two in the elevator, opting to get off at the floor below yours with a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Yeah,” you watched her smooth out her dress with a subtle smile on her face from her bed. “Y/n, oh my God, he’s amazing. I really think he’s the one for me.”

You groaned and threw a pillow at her, “Ughhhhhhh! Mom! Gross!”

She laughed and sat down beside you on her bed, wrestling another pillow from your grasp, “I’m not your mom, child.” She looked at her hands, fiddling with the small ring on her middle finger, “I’m serious, though. I really love him. I kind of want to-“

You sat up quickly with wide eyes, “You want to marry him?”

She searched your face and looked down at her hand again before meeting your eyes again, a smile on her face. “Yeah, I really do.”

You hugged her, “I hope you do marry him.”

She sighed and looked at you, “What about you? How are things with Mark?”

“Good, we’re going out for coffee in a bit,” you avoided her gaze, shy about your feelings for the boy with no curtains.

She excitedly grabbed your hand, “Oh my God, what are you wearing?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know yet.”

Your friend leapt up and moved to her door, “Come on, I’ve got time before Johnny comes back.”

“You look perfect,” she assured you, gripping your arm comfortingly. “I can’t believe you never wear this coat; it’s gorgeous.”

You glanced down at the red material, hugging it tighter around your body. You tapped your shoe against the ground. “Are heels too fancy?”

She assured you no, then checked the time on her phone, “I should probably get going.” She pouted and hugged you, before closing the door behind her.

You busied yourself with cleaning up your apartment a little, pulling the curtains back to let in some natural light. You felt yourself inhale sharply as you were surprised with Mark standing in his window, too. You made eye contact and smiled, waving.

His eyes were wide, and he held up a finger, signalling for you to wait one moment. He disappeared into the darker part of his apartment, returning with a piece of notebook paper and a sharpie. He scrawled a message on the paper then flipped it over for you to see. Wow.

You blushed, a small grin making its way onto your face. He smiled back at you and you could feel your heart hammering in your chest. Did he have to be so gorgeous? He held up his pointer finger towards the sky, twirling it in a circle.

You laughed at his awestruck expression and twirled childishly, putting your hands on your hips when you were done. You held your hands out, palms up. Well?

He flipped the piece of paper around in his hand wrote something else. WOW.

You giggled nervously and hid your face with your hands in embarrassment.

A new piece of paper was placed in view; ready to go?

You raised your eyebrows and grabbed a pen to write a message back; I thought we were leaving at 7?

He nodded to himself as he leant against the window to write on the back of his sheet. When he stepped back, he flipped it over, a smirk tugging at the left side of his mouth. I don’t wanna wait.

You nodded, grabbing your purse and heading towards your door. When you looked out your window as you shut the door, only the sight of a setting sun met your eyes.

“Ready?” He was sitting in one of the few misshapen chairs in the lobby and you wondered how he beat you to the ground floor. Must’ve taken the stairs, you thought.

“Someone’s eager,” you commented, a small smile tugging at your lips as you reached out your hand for him to grab. When he slid his hand in yours, you pulled him up from the chair and started heading for the door.

“How was your day?” He asked, his voice quiet. Shy.

For some reason, the question flustered you. Suddenly you couldn’t remember anything that happened that day. “Uh, it was alright,” you said, staring at the brightly coloured clouds in front of you. “Oh, I met Johnny today. You know, my friend’s boyfriend?”

He glanced at you, “That’s nice. How’re they going?”

“Hopelessly in love,” you sighed with a giggle. You shook your head, “They’re really happy.”

“I know the feeling,” Mark mumbled.

“Hmm?” You said, turning slightly as you walked so you faced him. You had used him to turn mid-step and it was at this point that you realised you hadn’t stopped holding hands. Your mouth suddenly went dry as you stopped walking, you gaze fixated on his hand in yours.

“What?” He looked at you, an amused smile on his face. He stopped beside you and followed your eyes to what you were looking at. “You only just noticed I’ve been holding your hand this whole time?”

You nodded, your lips quirking up at his more confident demeanour.

When you didn’t say anything, he suddenly became nervous, “Do- do you want me to let go?”

“Oh! No, no, no,” you looked away from him, attempting to hide the impending blush on your face. “I like it.”

You didn’t have to look at his face to know he was smiling. You could hear it in his voice. “Okay, good.”

When you got to the café, you both simultaneously sighed, “Oh, God. Denise is working, again” before looking at each other with a shocked expression and then laughing far too loud for the staff’s liking.

Since you had sat down – in the same booth as your very first time visiting the café with him – he hadn’t let go of your hand, instead opting to hold it on top of the table. While he was reading the menu, his thumb had been softly rubbing circles on the back of your hand, and when we wanted your attention to point out something new on the menu (despite the fact that you ordered the same thing every time you went in), he squeezed it.

Both of you had rosy cheeks, but you blamed it on the cold weather. Your ordered your usuals.

“Y/n.”

“Mark,” you stated back, eyes still scanning the menu, despite having ordered already.

“Y/n,” he squeezed your hand in his and you looked up at him, shutting your menu. “I want to talk to you about something.”

You tried to hide the panic on your face with a forced smile, “Oh, God, you’re not breaking up with me are you?”

He laughed half-heartedly, “Well, actually…”

He trailed off and you gasped in mock surprise, and you both giggled.

“What I was going to say,” he shot you a pointed look for interrupting him, “was that, uh, I really like-”

“Bagel and sandwich?” Denise arrived with a black tray, setting a bagel and coffee down in front of you and a sandwich and tea in front of Mark. You thanked her but she stood there expectantly as you made awkward eye contact with Mark, trying to give a hint that she could leave you alone now.

“Enjoy your meals, kids!” She chirped happily, spinning on her heel to go harass another table.

You and Mark stared wide-eyed at each other before bursting out into fits of giggles at her erratic behaviour.

“Go on,” you said, picking up your spoon and waving it at him before stirring your coffee mindlessly.

He cleared his throat. Nothing came out. You stared at him expectantly, until; “I really like bagels,” he said, staring at your plate.

You quirked an eyebrow at him. This is what he wanted to talk about?

“And I’m thinking about ordering bagels, and I know how I feel about the bagels,” he flicked his eyes up to meet yours, “but I don’t know how bagels feel about me.”

Your mouth popped open to form a small ‘o’ but you quickly gathered yourself. This was not about bagels. “Well,” you glanced down at the bagel on your plate, trying to hide the smile on your face. “I think bagels would like you, too. I think you should just go over to the cabinet over there-” You pointed at the cabinet by the register, where the remaining sandwiches and bagels were held – “and tell the bagels how you feel.”

His held your gaze for a moment, his smile stretching wider on his face. He suddenly stood up and you watched in confusion as he walked to the sandwich cabinet in the café, turning around to nod at you briefly before he faced the display, “Bagels, I really like you. Like, really like you. I hope you like me. And, Y/n,” he turned away from the two remaining bagels sitting in the glass cabinet, “I really hope you like me, too.”

The other students in the café furrowed their brows at him, before looking back at their phones, laptops or papers. You stood up, the red on your face getting deeper as you grabbed his arm and dragged him back to your table, “You’re so annoying, oh my God.”

He stopped in his tracks, planting his feet so you couldn’t drag him, “I meant it. I do like you. A lot.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, smiling at him, “I know.”

“Well? Aren’t you going to tell me whether you like me back?” He spluttered, his large doe eyes searching your face for pity or embarrassment at his declaration of his love for bagels.

“I like you, too. A lot.” You shyly pushed your hair back from your face.

His face lit up and he let you drag him back to your booth. Somewhere in your peripheral vision, you could see Denise checking her watch, and the other waiter staring at you with pride.

You ate in near silence, frequently smiling shyly at each other from opposite sides of the table. When you were done, he paid, despite you offering. You left the small café hand in hand to walk back to your dorm.

“You know, I’m really glad I let her write that message to you at the beginning of the semester,” you stated happily, glancing up at the dark sky. “The one on the window.” The stars littered the sky above you, and the dim lighting that the streetlights provided made his features seem softer and, yet, sharper. You were transfixed by him.

He stopped walking, “Are you saying I should be on a date with your friend and not you right now?”

“Maybe,” you smirked at him. He pushed your shoulder and you stumbled sideways before making your way back to his side, his hand instantly finding yours again.

“I’m glad I was shirtless when she happened to be looking out the window,” he glanced at you, gaging your reaction.

“You spent that whole week shirtless,” you rolled your eyes, before tugging his hand so he’d look back at you. “Speaking of, where has that gone? It’s lame seeing you with a shirt on.”

He laughed, “It’s winter.” You were only a minute’s walk away from your building and you really hoped that this wouldn’t be the end of your... first date?

“Lame.” You yelped as he laughed and pushed your shoulder again, but this time he kept his hand in yours so he could pull you back when you stumbled away from him.

When he tugged you back towards him, he pulled you so that you ended up standing in front of him, your faces merely centimetres apart. You felt your smile drop as you stared at him with wide eyes. Kissmekissmekissmekissme.

Slowly, he leant forwards, his head tilting up slightly to connect your lips together softly. You melted into his touch, leaning into him more as he gripped your hand. He pulled away all too soon for your liking, but he leant his forehead down to rest against yours.

His breath fanned your face as he sighed, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You hummed in response, your brain unable to form a coherent response, enjoying the close proximity. If anything, he looked better than ever. His large doe eyes stared into yours, and you could hear how quick he was breathing.

You felt yourself step back, “Come on, it’s getting cold.”

“How can you be cold, you’re wearing a massive coat,” he exaggeratedly looked you up and down. Despite the large coat, you felt exposed under his gaze. “And, by the way, red is definitely your colour.”

“Shut up,” you laughed as you walked through the lobby doors of your building. He pressed the elevator button and stared at the reflection in the metal doors.

“We look really good together, don’t you think?”

“I could’ve told you that months ago.”

The familiar chime of the elevator caught your attention and you stepped inside. Mark walked to the back and leant against the handrail, tugging you by the hand to stand between his legs. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Can I kiss you again?”

You didn’t say anything this time, instead choosing to crash your lips onto his, hoping no one else would need to use the elevator at this time. The doors slid shut slowly, and you felt him smile against your lips.

A garbled voice announced the floor number, and you stepped away from Mark, catching your breath as you waited for the doors to slide open once more. He seemed to be struggling to catch his breath, too.

“What are you smiling about?” You tease, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the elevator, only now realising that while you had been making out, he had pushed the button for his floor.

You heard him laugh behind you as he fished for his keys in his jeans pocket, unlocking the door and holding his arm out for you to enter first. Sliding your coat from your arms, you dropped it on the floor with your bag as you always did when you came over, and stood in the middle of his bedroom awkwardly. Every other time you’d hung out in his dorm, you’d immediately gone to sit down on his bed or desk chair, or even the floor, but this time was different.

If you sat down on the bed, it might seem too sexual. If you sat down on the desk chair, he couldn’t sit next to you. If you sat down on the floor…well, that’s just a little bit weird because, why would you choose the floor over actual seats?

After closing the door and hanging up his jacket on the hook beside it, he turned around to walk towards you. Seeing you in the middle of his bedroom, standing there in your dress and heels, lips slightly pink and puffy from kissing him earlier, made him smile at you, stars forming in his eyes.

He walked over to you, grabbing your waist and pulling you into him to kiss you again. The taste of you was too exciting, too high-inducing that he never wanted to stop. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and leant back slightly to say something.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Just like old times.

He grinned at you, “Yeah.”

The last time you saw Mark Lee on campus, he was shirtless.

It was almost a year after you’d started dating him, and you had decided to move out from your dorm in search of your own place.

You were busy packing moving boxes with items you didn’t even know you had when you glanced out the window, trying to get a peek of your boyfriend and his friends having a water fight on the quad to celebrate the end of another year.

He ran around them, apparently targeting Johnny as he threw handfuls of water balloons at the boys. Some of their girlfriends and partners sat on the side-lines, talking amongst themselves and watching the fight unravel. It’s just for the boys, Mark had told you. We do it every year.

Eventually, though, they all flopped down onto the lush grass, exhausted. You watched as one by one the boys stood back up, grabbing their things and walking into your building, and you caught Mark’s eye as he looked up at you, grinning and whooping. As if you could win a water fight.

A few minutes later, he was knocking on your door, already peeling his soaked shirt off his body as he entered. He wolf-whistled as he looked around your dorm, “Wow, you’ve made progress.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed you on the cheek as he passed you, making his way towards the half empty boxes you had been packing just moments before.

“Unlike you,” you teased, tossing him the masking tape so he could secure a box you’d finished filling. “I can see from here, you’ve barely even started.”

He looked up at you. “You been watching me, voyeur?” He smirked at you, raising an eyebrow as he stretched the tape out loudly. It wouldn’t have been so attractive if he wasn’t shirtless. You cursed him silently.

“Maybe you should get some curtains,” you shrugged, purposely looking away from his body and turning around to tape up a box sitting beside you.

“I think some people enjoy the view.” The same thing he had said when he’d first responded to your friend’s message on the window.

You rolled your eyes, turning around to respond, but you were instead met with your boyfriend’s chest only inches from your face. You were startled, but you tried your hardest not to show it. “I, uh, I-”

“Definitely enjoy the view,” he grinned, bending down to kiss you briefly on the lips. He pulled away and clapped his hands together, “Alright, let’s get you finished and then we can start on my room-” You opened your mouth to say something but he held up a finger so he could continue without interruption, “-and I know I said I had started, but, the truth is, I haven’t.”

“I KNEW IT!” You shrieked with glee, running to the window to point vaguely in the direction of his room.

He rolled his eyes and held up a roll of bubble wrap, “Okay, okay, come on. We’ve got a lot to do.”

“You’ve got a lot to do,” you corrected.

“Hey, it’s ‘we’ now,” he said softly, pouting at you from across the room.

You could feel your heart beat faster in your chest at his words but you ignored it, “Right, it’s ‘we’ when you need help packing up your apartment but it’s ‘you’ when-“

“Oh mY GOD, stop bringing that up! That was forever ago!” He threw a bag of packing peanuts at you in an attempt to get you to shut up.

You laughed at him and continue boxing up your things.

“And lastly, welcome home,” your landlord said to you, bowing slightly as he handed you the keys to your new apartment and bidding you two goodbye. You held a small box in your arms with a few items in it and made to step into your apartment, but Mark’s hand on your arm stopped you.

“No, we gotta do this right,” he placed the box in his hands down on the floor of the corridor. You shot him a confused look as he bent down slightly, then squealed as he picked you up bridal style, carrying you into what will be the living room of your shared apartment.

You laughed and covered your face with one hand, the other gripping tightly onto his shoulders, “Mark, this is for marriage. Not just, you know, moving into a new place.”

His smile faltered slightly as he let you down, but kept one arm around you. He didn’t meet your eyes, staring around the large apartment with pride, “Well, I guess that’s next then.”

so there you have it folks :))) the last part to TOWNC series :))) some of you seem excited by johnny and the friend’s storyline which is cute, so maybe as a spinoff I could write their story but who knows ???? anyways I hope you liked it and enjoyed the emotional rollercoaster

1K notes · View notes

justformyself2 · 5 years ago

Text

P.S. I Love You (p4)

Hi guys, welcome to the last part of the series (awnnn). This was very fun to write, for real, i really feel proud of this story and i love the original so much that i included some dialogues from the actual movie in it. Well, i hope you guys liked it as much as i did ♥

The Rom-Com Writing Challenge is brought to you by my dear creative friend @lullabieswrappedinlies. As the title says, this is inspired by - the great at making me cry hard movie- ‘P.S. I Love You.’ if you haven’t seen it, go see it before you read this

BEFORE YOU JUMP IN BE ADVISED:

.This series contains spoilers from the movie P.S. I LOVE YOU.

. Pairing: Reader x John Krasinski.

.It contains strong language.

.It contains angst and grieve.

. IF you want you can read this along with the amazing soundtrack from the movie CLICK HERE

NEW HERE? CLICK FOR PART THREE.

(Y/N) POV

"John, did you wrote some of the letters?"

You expect his answer, and at the same time, didn't feel prepared for it.

He walks away to put the empty glass on the sink, and when he stayed there, looking out the window, without saying a word, he said everything.

Your chest clenches like a fist. Your legs retreat towards the living room, where the TV was on without a spectator. Everything else was automatic behind the blur; You, placing the glass, with the untouched water, on the cabinet, grabbing your purse and heading out to the door.

"(Y/N) wait." His steps are right behind yours while you were going down the stairs, agile, but you don't have the velocity on your muscles to make up for it, and because of that, his grip becomes inevitable.

"(Y/N)." He calls again. The blur gets intense, and it pours out of your eyes, along with the confusion. You make it to the pavement, and outside, the daylight was almost over, but the winds were still warm against your skin, warmer on the arm his hand grabbed.

"Look, just let me explain, please." He places himself in front of you, avoiding the next step forward.

"What? What do you want to explain? That you wrote the letters I thought MY husband wrote? Did he even knew about this? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?" You are aware of the stares received from strangers passing by. "How can you assume this?" "Gerry is not the type of guy who would quote Edgar Allan Poe, or say things like 'fiasco' or 'idyllic.'"

The hyperventilating John in front of you, with an expression you could only describe as lost. At this point, you could only wish he would stop trying, but he doesn't.

"Maybe he wanted to, intentionally, because of you." You sigh heavily.

"Then why do these letters sound exactly like what you wrote on Denise's birthday card? Why it sounds exactly like the letter you wrote to me before I went to Ireland? The words, the quotes. The ps: I love you, did you wrote it?" Your troath was starting to hurt, as an invisible fist was being gulped down along with tears. "Look, please, lets come inside so we can talk."

"Are you insane? You thought you could take advantage of a situation like this? He was your friend, my husband, what did you think you would be getting out of this?" He tries to reach your arm one more time.

"DON'T, don't touch me. I can't believe this."

"Hear me out, okay? He asked me to do it. Gerry knew, he asked me to help him write the letters for you, believe me, or not, he was getting weaker each day, I couldn't deny."

A third party approaches from the side, switching his attention for a minute. A white, skinny bald man with a red apron holding a baseball bat, which with he is softly beating his open palm, was looking directly at John.

"Everything all right over here?" His eyes narrow, while John's rolled back.

You get stuck for a second, and then a stuttered "Yes." comes out your mouth automatically when you looked at the bat he swung over his shoulder casually. "Are you sure?" He asks again, and you nod. "Yes, I was about to leave, thanks." "(Y/N) Please, can we have this conversation inside? Then if you never want to talk to me again, I will understand. I will quit the job, disappear from your life. I promise." John took over, ignoring the threatening body language of the man, who was now retreating inside the small bakery with a few people watching from inside. His eyes aimed hopeful towards you, who was swallowing dry. "I don't know if I can believe you, John. Do you know what this is looking like to me?" You watch the hope inside the hazel eyes shift. "I need you to trust me this one last time."

JOHN'S POV

I watch her occupy the space on the couch, and stayed inclined, with her elbows on her knees, as if he was ready to leave at any moment, and I couldn't blame her. I take the spot further away and decide to start talking before she could actually leave. I had to swallow my fears first.

"When Gerry had the idea, I tried to talk it out of him. I really did, but he was firm, stubborn. He wanted at all costs to be here for you even after he was gone, and he would do it with or without me. It was some days before he got really bad, and when he was starting to hit a certain state, I couldn't deny anymore, I just couldn't. As you said, he was not very good at writing about feelings, but he did write some of the letters before I agreed to help him; some other ones I had to finish by myself when he was getting worse." I take a brief pause to search for something on her expression, but only found a could, distant observative glance. "He just needed help, and you weren't supposed to find out any of this, but of course you did. We both counted on you not paying this much attention."

"(Y/N) It was no secret that we once...You know, felt something for one another in a weird timing, but then you met Gerry, and I respected that. I'm not the type fo guy who pulls schemes or crazy manipulations to get what I want. I'm not the type of guy who would try to benefit from such a situation, and I know that you know that."

She reclines back on the couch, covering her eyes. I could see the wetness on her cheeks. Something seems to dislocate inside of me.

"I have the last letter, and he also left a recording." I get up, aiming towards the bookshelf, trying not to get too concerned about her lack of responses. The letter and the tape, already inside the player, with a piece of paper written 'For (Y/N) only,' were currently where I intentionally placed; behind the book I bought last week with a very fitting title, ' The Last Message Received' from Emily Trunko.

"This one I didn't knew about. He wanted to be only for you. I also haven't heard the recording, mark brought me a couple of days after he died." I collect the items and proceed to stay firm while offering them to her, knowing that the countdown was closer to zero, soon enough she would be out of that door again, and there would be nothing I could do about it. She grabs the tape player first, and then the letter carefully without making eye contact.

"I'm sorry (y/n). I thought I was helping. I really did. I understand how bad it all sounds, but seeing how you were today made me understand why Gerry wanted this." She is quietly staring at the tape player, still holding it on a fist. She presses play, and Gerry's voice filled the room.

"Hey, baby. It looks like you got the last letter, hun? I'm proud of you and less worried because I know I left the best people to care of you for me, so don't be sad and don't look back now. I will always be with you every step of the way, that is why I wrote all these letters, and that is why John helped me with all of them, I know this will sound weird, but I kind of guilt-trip him into doing it, so don't blame him from keeping it from you. He is a good guy, and there was no one else I would ask to help me but someone who understands how it is to love you and also understands about writing you letters. It's okay, I'm not mad you kept his letter, not anymore, at least, but in an ironic way that was my sign, you see, it all worked out the way it was supposed to, don't need to feel weird or guilty. I was lucky enough to have a place in your heart, and I have no regrets. I know you will be strong enough to move on, but I still can't move on without telling you, out loud, that you changed me. You made me a man by loving me, and for that, I'm eternally grateful, literally. You made my life (Y/N), but I'm only a chapter in yours, there will be more. I promise." There are coughs before he could continue. (Y/N) eyes are closed, and her cheeks are becoming wet again.

"So here it comes, the big one. Don't be afraid to fall in love again. I know you will see the signal. I know you will watch out for it when life as you know it ends. P.S: I will always love you."

The recording stops, everything stops, as we both were sitting quietly, only breathing, right then in there I knew she understood, without saying anything else.

I also understood that at some point, Gerry knew she would find out, he expected her to, the tape as proof, proof that he tricked both of us, but the fact that we listened together, that she wanted me to listen along with her was a variant. Now she as also exposed, now I knew she kept the letter i wrote to her before the trip to Ireland, a type of realization that sunk deep like a punch in the stomach, throwing me back into the past violently.

Everything that I said and meant it on that letter, pouring my heart out, making a promise to wait for her became vivid as if five years was an only illusion as if the past me was woken up again to be in this moment as if his job was to make me restless to shoot the question:

"You kept my letter?"

She moves, still avoiding looking at me. "I keep a lot of things." She is quick.

"Why?" but I was not giving up since there was nothing to give up for, that was it, that was the moment. I feel it in my skin and trusted the vibration running in all directions, the warmth with brought me. She also knew.

"I waited for you." "I know, but I couldn't, that was why I traveled in the first place." The back of her hand presses over the irritated skin under her eyes once more when another random tear ran down. "You couldn't?" My forearms started to shake slightly and I try to contain myself harder than I have for all of these years, and a feel like a dam, whose walls with cracks were unable to support the force of the water, her force. I was reaching my breaking point only after seeing her marry another guy, only after helping him write her letters, only after hearing her say that she just couldn't, that was the last push.

"When my dad left, I was fourteen, and I said, that's it, never again, no men. Then years later, I meet you. God, I was so scared of how much I wanted you, of how quickly it was and how terrified I was when I all I ever knew was abandonment, with my mom always saying 'that is just how men are' at least ten random times a day. After your letter, I decided to leave, take a break, if you would really wait for me as you said then that was the sign." She smiles randomly while observing the tape player still in her hands, and nervously bite her lips. "Unexpectedly, in Ireland, I met Gerry, and with the little time I had with him, I realized I would never have any control of what would happen, of who would leave me of who would stay. He taught me how to be alive, fearless like him, how not to let my past dictate my future, and even after death he is still teaching me. I will always love him for that. I made my choice without even knowing I made it, and I’m still doing it, but now I know he got into my life for a reason, like a sign, just like you. Do i sound crazy?."

Her voice cracks.

“No.” I answered catching a tear with my thumb. She smiles and I feel at peace like I haven’t felt for years.

Her wandering hand reaches mine, who was still shaking.

" Are you still waiting?" "Always."

#RomComWC #RCWC #fanfiction #story #p.s. i love you #movie #John Krasinski #writing challenge #john krasinskixreader

5 notes · View notes

missjosie27 · 5 years ago

Text

Year 1 Part 9- One Ending, A New Beginning

Hello, friends!

This is the last chapter of Year 1 that I wrote. I sincerely hope you enjoy it and as always, please leave feedback or comments if you’d like:)

Year 2 will be coming soon! Probably within the week!

It took about as long as Merula said (the only thing she hadn’t lied to them about in their year of knowing her) but after about ten minutes the body bind curse had worn off and the three Gryffindor boys were back on their feet, albeit heavily disgruntled.

“Have I mentioned how much I hate Merula?” Rowan said, rubbing the back of his head.

“Hate doesn’t even begin to describe it,” David seethed, his hands curling into fists. His mind was practically spinning from the amount of animosity he felt towards her.

“Now I know the exact pain you saved me from when she was bullying me,” Ben groaned as he clutched his side. “Ugh, everything hurts.”

“Not as bad as she’s going to hurt after I’m through with her!” David declared, charging forward towards the door.

“Wait, David,” Rowan said, grabbing his arm. “Hold on a second. She’s still in there.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Merula would have found what she was looking for and left. She wouldn’t stick around. Something must have happened.”

In the midst of despising the first year Slytherin no one had considered that angle until now and it left the trio pondering for a moment.

“It might be too dangerous to go back in,” Ben said nervously. “We don’t know what’s in there.”

David considered that possibility, but two worse ones overrode any hesitation he had in entering the door. With his anger subsided slightly, he was able to assess the situation much clearer, however, he felt more determined than ever.

“True, but if Merula gets her hands on something really powerful who knows what she’ll do with it. Above all, we need to find more clues about my brother. I can’t turn down the chance to find out what happened to him.”

“I agree,” Rowan said pulling out his wand. “If it was my brother, I’d feel the same way. Plus, an all powerful Merula is not something I want to think about right now.”

“It’s settled then,” David said, following his best friend’s lead. “Are you with me?”

Rowan and Ben nodded as they approached the door once more. All or nothing, Merula or not, this was the first step to finding answers to so many questions.

Alohomora!

The door creaked open once more, allowing the Gryffindor trip to step inside and shut it behind them. However, the sight that greeted them was far from what they were expecting.

True, the chilly cold that emanated from the door was ten times worse on the inside, but far from witnessing an all powerful Merula, she was trapped up to her midsection in a block of ice. Indeed, everything in the room seemed to be encompassed by ice. It was small, only big enough for a handful of people and unremarkable other than the frozen entity that marked its interior.

“Merula?”

“What happened?”

Rowan on the other hand was laughing.

“And here I was thinking you got your hands on some ancient amulet. This is too good!”

“Get stuffed, K-Khanna!” Merula shouted though she struggled to contain her shivers. “This weird ice st-stuck me to the f-floor, and k-keeps spreading all over me!”

That was disturbing to say the least. Ice of that nature couldn’t be common even within the magical world at Hogwarts.

“It’s spreading all over the door too!” she cried, pointing a finger. “G-get me out of h-here before I j-jinx all three of you.”

“I don’t believe you’re in a position to be making threats,” David said, the full brunt of his sarcasm coming to bear. “But by all means keep acting like a prat.”

“Grant! Will you just turn around?!”

All three of them turned to see that ice was forming seemingly out of nowhere and spreading down the door, forming a thick, icy top layer that eventually glossed over the door handle. Rowan quickly moved to open the door again, but found it wouldn’t budge.

“I can’t get a good grip on it!” he said, panic in his voice. “The lock and handle are frozen shut.”

“What do we do?” Ben asked frantically. “How do we get out of here? I-I’m s-starting to feel the cold too, D-Dave.”

Resisting the urge to wrap his own body in his arms, David realized none of them would last very long in here if they couldn’t get out. They had to find a way and fast. But none of the spells they had learned could break or melt ice. There was only thing they could do.

“We have to knock this door down off its hinges,” he said aloud. “We can use the knockback jinx to try and break it.”

“Are you sure that’ll work?” Rowan asked.

“It has to, otherwise we’ll be frozen statues by the time anyone finds us in here.”

He took out his wand and motioned for Ben and Rowan to do the same. However, he couldn’t help but take a glance back at Merula. It had only been minutes before since the full concentration of his rage had been focused upon her, but seeing her trapped- weak, afraid, and completely helpless- caused his resolve to soften. With her wand laying on the ground, she had no way to free herself.

I can’t leave her here. No matter what she’s done.

“Brace yourself, Merula,” David said to her, aiming for her entrapped legs.

“W-what are you g-going to do?”

“Save your arse.”

Without waiting for her permission, he fired the knockback jinx.

‘Flipendo!’

It had the desired effect, sending Merula backwards into the wall, shattering her icy prison.

“Oww,” she moaned.

“For the record, you totally deserved that,” Rowan remarked.

David, however, walked up to her and offered his hand to pull her up.

“Not even someone like you deserves to die in here. We’re going to need every wand on hand to bust down that door.”

She began to protest but the Gryffindor cut her off.

“We can go back to being enemies later, okay? But this one time, I need you to work with me. Help us so you can get out of here.”

Appealing to her own sense of self preservation did the trick as Merula reluctantly took his hand, grabbed her wand and jumped to her feet.

The foursome, briefly united in their desire not to end up in an early grave aimed at the door.

“On three,” David told them. “Fire with everything you got. One, two, THREE!”

A chorus of ‘Flipendo!’ rang out as four jets of light hit the door simultaneously, sending it clean off its hinges and onto the ground. They were free.

Merula immediately bolted without so much as a thank you, but Rowan hung back for a second, puzzling the other two boys.

“Rowan let’s go!”

“Wait, Dave. Look!”

He pointed up at a series of symbols and markings on the top corner of the wall.

“It’s the same language we saw on the golden brick outside of the door. I need to write this down.”

Rowan quickly pulled out a piece of paper, copying it down while Ben urged them to hurry.

“Filch is going to be here any second! Someone will have heard that noise!”

“Just a sec…got it!”

With barely any time left to spare, the Gryffindor trio ran as fast as they could, away from Mrs. Norris, Filch, Snape, or anyone else who could have possibly been alerted to the presence of a busted down door. They didn’t stop until they reached the common room, not even bothering to hide the noise they made whilst they hurried to their dormitories.

There were many more questions buzzing in David’s head as he jumped into bed and attempted to pretend he had the ability to sleep after what happened. But the questions could wait.

Presently, not getting expelled was more than enough consolation.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

To the surprise of everyone involved from that night, almost nothing came of the incident. David had fully expected a visit from Professor McGonagall or Snape or someone about breaking into (quite literally) the mysterious door and a lengthy detention sentence that would lead into the next year. Even more shockingly, Merula kept to herself during their classes, only occasionally throwing out a barb or insult. She wasn’t stupid, any mouthing off on her part about the vaults would only serve to get her in trouble as well.

And so, life went on and the routine of Hogwarts returned. Exams were coming up and most of the student body settled into a quiet lull, especially the older students, who’s careers depended on their following results. Rowan in particular was adamant about focusing on their studies, constantly quizzing them on various spellwork, facts, and numbers. It became so intense, that even Ben was bold enough to suggest they should take a break from the library and actually eat a meal.

The routine wasn’t to last long, however. There was one last bludger to be thrown before the year was out, and it came in the form of Professor Dumbledore.

In the midst of eating dinner per Ben’s suggestion, their meal of shepherd’s pie (and a retelling of story about one of Charlie’s younger brothers) was interrupted by Angelica.

“David,” she said to him. “We need to talk.”

Swallowing a mouthful of pie, he gazed up at her.

“About what?”

“Did you try and enter that door on the 13th corridor?”

His stomach immediately lost any desire for food as it felt like a stone dropped in the middle of it.

“Maybe this can wait until later? This is a pretty good pie, if I do say so myself. And Charlie was in the middle of a joke so…”

“You have a comeback for everything, don’t you?”

“It’s where I get my dashing charm.”

Angelica looked as if she didn’t know whether to laugh or scream, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You’re incorrigible, you know that? To think I’ll be your prefect for the next two years.”

“Imagine how fun that will be.”

“David, I know you think this is all hilarious,” she said, putting her arms on the table and giving him a piercing look. “But whether you care or not you represent Gryffindor, just like your brother did. Risking that representation is a poor way to go about your time here at Hogwarts.”

“I don’t know what you heard,” the first year answered back. “But it’s rumor.”

“You blasted down a door,” she shot back. “It’s not exactly a huge mystery that someone was in there.”

Sighing, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a letter.

“I didn’t come here to argue with you or punish you. I’m actually just a messenger. But I do want you to know that your house and everyone else in it matters. Not just you.”

David took the letter from her and recognized its seal- that of the Headmaster.

“Dumbledore wants to see you. He didn’t say why so don’t ask. But you better hope it’s nothing serious.”

He opened it straight away and saw a neat message inscribed:

Dear David,

I should like to speak with you tonight in the courtyard as soon as you are done with dinner. Please ensure you are alone as I would like our chat to be private. I look forward to seeing you then.

Sincerely,

Professor Dumbledore

In truth, David felt quite uneasy about the prospect of a one on one with the Headmaster, but he also had no choice. The most powerful wizard in Britain was not someone you could avoid or runaway from like Snape or Filch. He did, however, have one more thing to say to his prefect.

“Whatever you think of me, Angelica, know this. I’m not just here for myself, you can ask anyone at this table about how much I care about Gryffindor, my brother, my family. They’ll tell you.”

Ben, Rowan, and Charlie each nodded and that seemed to put Angelica more at ease.

“Okay,” she said approvingly. “I’ll hold you to that. You’d best be off now, you don’t want to keep Dumbledore waiting.”

Let’s get this over with

“Good luck,” Rowan said to him, while Ben smiled, and Charlie gave a thumbs up. Somehow, it was inspiring and that was not an emotion that he was intimate with. Even should he be punished; he knew his house had his back and he had theirs.

Deciding it was best to heed his prefect for once, David got up from the bench, and headed towards the Courtyard.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sure enough, the eccentric wizard was there when David finally arrived in the courtyard. Wearing blue robes with stars on them, they complimented the atmosphere rather well, as the first dots of light began to emerge in the evening sky. Approaching slowly, he figured Dumbledore knew he was there, but as of yet made no movement or indication of it, keeping his head towards the heavens.

When the Headmaster did acknowledge him for the first time, it was a warm, friendly greeting, almost grandfatherly in a way.

“Thank you for meeting with me, David.”

The first year Gryffindor wasn’t entirely sure what to say, but he figured it was best to at least be humble and not try and pull any funny business with Dumbledore.

“Of course sir, I just wanted to say that-”

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” the old man interrupted, returning his gaze to the stars.

“Sir?”

“The quiet night, the calm air of spring with the promise of summer ahead- it truly puts your troubles into perspective doesn’t it?”

David had no idea where he was going with this but decided not to question it.

“I suppose so.”

“I oftentimes come here when I need to make an important decision.”

Perhaps a decision about his time at Hogwarts thus far? It wouldn’t have surprised David if Dumbledore was pondering that topic as they spoke.

“My prefect said you needed to see me, but she didn’t specify what. I assumed it was everything that’s happened this year- the dueling, fighting werewolves, the cursed ice…”

He trailed off as the Headmaster took a long look at him through his half moon spectacles. He did not look angry, however.

“Perhaps you were expecting a lecture or a far worse punishment?” he asked aloud. “But I sense you have just as many questions about what has happened so far.”

David realized that he was allowing him a freebee to ask whatever he desired, a fact he failed until realize until now as the words came spilling out.

“Sir, what are these cursed vaults? And why was my brother so obsessed with them? Do you have any idea where he is?”

A whole year had led up to this moment, but perhaps constantly avoiding the subject of his brother had been unhealthier than previously realized. In any case, Dumbledore did not look surprised.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much more than you do on the subject of the vaults,” he explained. “I have been seeking out an expert on the subject myself. Some say that they were created by a powerful sorcerer who was a student during the days of the Founders, others say Salazar Slytherin used them to hide his immense treasures and secrets. Perhaps they originate with the school itself. One cannot be certain, but as you’ll find, Hogwarts holds many secrets.

“As for your brother, his disappearance has baffled even me. He came across the vaults as a second year and his efforts to prove they existed resulted in several dangerous incidents that forced my hand, unfortunately. I do not want to damper your impression of him, however, he was an excellent student and quite the keen mind. Jacob was quite popular with the staff and most of the students, but I have guessed that he was led astray by someone or something along the way.”

“My brother, for all his feats was…complicated,” David said quietly. “He was always good to me, but there was a lot more happening with him than he let on.”

“Much of which you are just finding about now,” Dumbledore added with a small nod. “It is not easy being apart from a sibling. It is something I can highly empathize with.”

“This whole thing…this whole year has been one giant mystery.”

“Indeed, Hogwarts itself can be considered a mystery. But I expect you to learn more in the coming years of your time here.”

David breathed out, as Dumbledore’s words sunk in, implying he was not about to be kicked out, which had been a very real prospect coming into this meeting.

“Sooo….I’m not going to be expelled?”

Dumbledore’s gaze was slightly stern but there was still the hint of his usual twinkling in his blue eyes.

“You have made many mistakes this year, David. But you have also demonstrated great compassion, resourcefulness, and courage. As I say to many of my students, it is the choices we make that truly define who we are underneath. From what I can observe, you are quite the talented young wizard and Hogwarts is better off with your presence. I believe you have earned Gryffindor one hundred points.”

David could hardly believe his ears, the revelation that he was not expelled consuming most of his happiness at the extra points.

“Thank you, Professor!”

“You are welcome. Though I daresay it does not erase the poor drubbing the Gryffindor Quidditch team took at the hands of Ravenclaw.”

David scoffed. “We’d need a thousand house points to erase that deficit.”

Dumbledore gave a booming laugh, one that resonated across the courtyard.

“Indeed, there is that famous sense of humor you possess. I look forward to six more years of it, the wizarding world suffers for the want of a good joke often times.”

The first year Gryffindor knew that his time with the Headmaster was winding down, but his mind still burned with questions.

“Sir, thank you for everything. But can we talk more about my brother and the vaults?”

Dumbledore nodded, the full twinkling in his eyes returning.

“We can and we will. Next year,” he said. “In the meantime, I believe you have final exams to attend and a feast to prepare for. I do hope you have a good summer holiday.”

Gesturing with his robe, the Headmaster indicated for him to be on his way and David obliged, heading back to the Great Hall to finish up his shepherd’s pie (if Charlie hadn’t finished it by now). There was much to do, and he wasn’t sure what would come next. But one thing he was sure of: he couldn’t wait for the next year to start.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The inevitable day arrived as the students took their luggage down to Hogsmeade station to depart back to London where their families and friends waited for them. Many were saying their goodbyes already as a sea of crimson, yellow, blue, and green interacted and chatted away while preparing the board the train.

“I can’t believe how fast it went,” Rowan said as he lifted his luggage into the compartment.

“Me neither,” David agreed. “Before you know it, we’ll be seventh years rowing back across the lake at graduation.”

“Don’t even say that!” Rowan shuddered. “I still have six more years of academics to go, Dave. I’ll have to do everything I can to become the youngest Professor in Hogwarts history. There’s not enough time.”

“I’m taking the mickey,” David laughed. “Relax, mate. We got plenty of time. Just you wait, there’s a lot ahead of us and we’re going to see it all.”

“You’ll definitely need more than seven years then,” Charlie interjected, joining their space. “Have you seen how huge this place is? Loads of people come through without learning half of what goes on here.”

“Personally, I’d be fine with that,” Ben added, the last to join their space. “Better safe than sorry.”

“It’s not Hogwarts without a little adventure, Ben,” David said with a wink, his good mood having been sustained the past few weeks. True, Gryffindor had only placed third in the house cup, but at least Ravenclaw had pulled out all the stops to take down Slytherin. It saved him the agony of seeing Merula brag with the rest of the snakes.

“I’ve had enough adventure for a lifetime really,” the blonde boy muttered but a friendly pat on the back from David was enough to induce a small grin from him.

“Just you wait. By the time this thing ends, you won’t be afraid of anything.”

Charlie took a glance at his watch.

“I gotta go find Bill for a second. Also don’t worry about Jae, he’s off selling the last of his merchandise before the train leaves.”

Before the three other boys could get comfortable, however, Rowan slapped his forehead.

“Oh, I almost forgot, Dave.”

He quickly took out a random piece of paper, the same one he had used to jot down the message inside the door with the cursed ice.

“I did a little digging after we broke down that door. Took me awhile, but I finally managed to decipher what was on top of the archway.”

This was certainly news to David, who had desired more answers after his talk with Dumbledore.

“You’re joking. What does it say? What was it?”

“I found on obscure book about ciphers and ancient languages. It’s Aramaic, probably goes back a thousand years. It says, ‘The Ice Knight stands guard past the vanished stairs.’”

This newfound information was both welcoming and also frustrating to the young Gryffindor. As opposed to answering questions it gave rise to new ones? What was the ice knight? And where were these vanished stairs?

“It’s not much to go off of but it’s a start,” David sighed.

“I’ll do more research over the summer,” Rowan told him. “I’ll have plenty of time too. Plus you know how much I love to read.”

“I can learn some more spells, too,” Ben offered. “I know it’s not much but…”

Rowan and David looked at each other, failing to stifle a grin, causing Ben to look alarmed.

“What? Oh God, did I say something stupid?”

“It’s alright, mate,” David explained. “I guess no one told you but we’re not allowed to do magic outside of school.”

“Yup, or else you get your wand snapped.”

The blonde boy sighed.

“This crazy world is just full of surprises isn’t it?”

“Too right, my friend. And there are far more awaiting for us when we’re second years.”

“Wonderful.”

The train soon whistled, signaling its imminent departure. The last of the students climbed aboard and they were off.

As Rowan, Ben, and Charlie set up a game of exploding snap, David gazed outside at the fields and hills that began to roll past, both confident and anxious about the future. In his heart, he knew the mysteries of Hogwarts had only just began.

#fanfiction #hogwarts mystery #hphm #david grant #rowan khanna #ben copper #merula snyde #albus dumbledore #minerva mcgonagall #gryffindor #slytherin

7 notes · View notes

gwentoryfics · 6 years ago

Text

imagine: amusement park date with hyunggu (fluff)

excuse this for being a little bit of a mess, i literally just wrote it in two hours and didn’t edit at all. lmao hERE YOU GO MY SWEET PEACHES

“Which way should we go first?” Hyunggu holds a map of the park open for you to both analyze. “Maybe start toward the back of the park and work our way forward?”

“Yeah, or we could loop around this way and make it over to the food court in time for lunch.” You draw a path on the map with your finger. “And then we could hit up the water rides in the afternoon when it’s hottest out.”

Hyunggu nods, satisfied. “See, this is why I keep you around.”

The two of you have been friends for at least two years, and he is without a doubt your very best friend. He’s close to you in a way that no one else ever has been; he knows all of your secrets, your dreams and aspirations, your fears - even the lies you tell yourself about how you don’t think you’re good enough, smart enough, thin enough, pretty enough. Hyunggu has helped you through so many ruts, and you honestly love him.

The only thing that he still doesn’t know about you is the fact that you’ve been harboring The World’s Biggest Crush™ on him for probably the majority of your friendship.

How could you not? He’s literally your perfect match. If soul mates exist, he is undoubtedly yours.

You screech internally - how did he turn you into such a hopeless romantic?

When Hyunggu asked if you wanted to go to the amusement park this weekend, you immediately agreed. You love roller coasters (although honestly, you would probably agree to do just about anything with him at this point - skydiving and bungee jumping included). But you’ve had to constantly remind yourself that he doesn’t mean for this to be a date. Probably.

You’ve been getting kind of mixed signals from him lately. He treats you the same as always, but sometimes you feel like his teasing has started to become flirty. But how much of that is you projecting your own feelings onto the conversation? Maybe he’s not flirting at all, and you only think he is because you so desperately want him to.

Whatever the case is, you constantly remind yourself that you shouldn’t get your hopes up unless he explicitly says that he’s interested in you. Otherwise, you’re just making dangerous assumptions.

As the two of you make your way through the park, you pick and choose various roller coasters and rides that look like fun. He always wants to wait for the front row, but you don’t mind the extra wait time. You’re a pro at waiting - as long as you get to spend time with him, that’s all that matters.

Just as you had planned, you reach the food court area right around lunch time, and afterwards you make your way towards the water rides.

“Let’s get on that one!” Hyunggu points at a ride nearby. The park-goers on the ride sit in log-like boats - no more than four or five in a boat - and travel along a water flume that’s raised up, probably at least twenty feet in the air. It ends with a big drop and a splash. “It doesn’t look too intense. I don’t think we need to change into bathing suits for it.”

You smile and nod. “Yeah, let’s do it!”

You both jump in line, and the path winds around, eventually dropping you off at one of those platforms that is perpetually turning. The little log boats move with the platform so the ride never really stops. Hyunggu leads the way, climbing down in to the boat you are assigned.

The boat only has one bench-like seat running from front to back, and Hyunggu straddles it, leaning back and patting the space in front of him. “Get in!”

“Are you sure you don’t want to be in front?” You tease him as you lower yourself into the boat.

“I’m trying to be nice,” he laughs. “You know you wouldn’t be able to see anything if you sat behind me.”

“That may be true,” you agree, smiling over your shoulder at him once you’re seated.

The boat departs from the platform and starts along its path, quickly coming to a moving belt that pulls you up the first hill. You hold onto the handlebars on either side of the boat, trying to keep yourself from falling back against Hyunggu (gravity and all that). As the the hill levels out and you drop about a foot back into the flume, you feel Hyunggu’s fingertips on your shoulder.

“Are you alright? Your shoulders are all red. Do you need more sunscreen?” He tenderly touches the reddened skin.

You reach up to touch it yourself, but it’s not hot like sunburn. “I think it’s just from my bag.” You have everything you need for the day in your drawstring bag, but since you opted to wear a tank top the fabric strings have been rubbing against your skin all day.

“Why don’t you let me take it for a while? Straps don’t bother me through my t-shirt.” Hyunggu removes the bag from your shoulders before you can protest.

“You’re going to look silly carrying two bags,” you comment, grasping onto the handles again as you go around a corner, your boat rocking playfully in the water as it picks up speed.

“I think you mean ‘thank you.’” He teases, pinching your sides once and making you squeal.

The boat is pulled up one last hill before leveling out again and wrapping around for the big drop. As you approach, you realize that the drop is a lot steeper than you originally thought it was.

“Oh my God, we’re gonna die.” You instinctively scoot backwards as the drop gets closer, as if you could actually avoid it. “We’re actually gonna die.”

Hyunggu chuckles, and you feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back against him. “You’re fine, relax.”

And just like that, the boat veers down the hill, and you’re pressing back into Hyunggu, screaming bloody murder. You’re totally fine on roller coasters when you’re appropriately strapped in, but this feels way too dangerous.

The boat crashes into the water at the bottom, sending up a huge spray of water - and suddenly, you’re soaked. What the hell? Everyone else looks mostly dry when they get off of this ride!

Hyunggu laughs warmly as your boat heads for the platform, and he releases you from his grip.

“That wave was huge!” You immediately complain. “Jesus, my clothes are completely soaked through!”

Behind you, Hyunggu’s laughter turns to cackling. “I never realized how great of a waterproof shield you are.”

“Damn it, Hyunggu.” You turn and realize that his clothes are completely dry, except for a bit of dampness on his shoulders and in his hair. “That is so not fair.”

“Maybe it’s time for bathing suits now,” he chuckles.

“You think?”

The two of you make your way to the water park area, splitting off once you found the locker rooms. You hang your clothes inside of your locker and hope that they might be able to dry a little while you’re gone.

You meet Hyunggu just outside of the locker rooms once you’ve changed. You brought along your favorite one-piece, a little emerald, retro number that’s cinched in all the right places. Hyunggu dons navy blue board shorts - and no shirt.

How dare he stand over there completely shirtless like it’s no big deal.

You’ve seen him shirtless before, but you don’t think you’ll ever stop thinking he has a beautiful body, no matter how many times you see him that way. Still, you put on a casual smile and pretend that you’re not hoping he thinks you look good, too.

“So,” you start as you near him. “Thoughts on the lazy river?”

“Sounds perfectly peaceful.” He smiles, and you both head off.

The water is chilly, but you don’t mind it too much. It’s nice to get a break from the hot sun, and it really does help to clear your head when it’s too muddled with thoughts about Hyunggu’s attractiveness.

You each grab an intertube, and you sit down into the middle of yours. Hyunggu pulls his down over his shoulders so his head, chest, and arms all stick out of the water. It works out well that way - he’s easily able to keep up with wherever you float off to.

For a bit you chat about nothing, really, but then Hyunggu changes the subject. “You know, you haven’t mentioned any boys for a while. Anyone you’re into these days?”

Oh dear. You roll your eyes to cover your panic. “Hyunggu, don’t you know I’m focusing on myself right now? I’m a self-sufficient woman. Boys are overrated.”

Hyunggu laughs. “Yeah, they are. But really, there’s not anyone?”

You meet his eyes, and there’s something so starkly serious about his expression. Why is he asking like that?

You take a chance. You no you shouldn’t, but you offer a flirtatious question as your response. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He raises an eyebrow. Instead of responding, though, he grabs you by your ankles launches you into a spin. You laugh and try to stop yourself by digging your hands down into the water, effectively splashing Hyunggu as you spin.

“Hey!” He splashes you back, and it’s an all-out war.

Even if he might never be your boyfriend, you can’t help but love every minute you’re there together.

At the end of the day, you insist on riding the ferris wheel. You’re both worn out from running around the park all day, but ferris wheels are your favorite - plus, the sun is setting and you just know everything will look gorgeous from up there.

Hyunggu humors you, and you both climb into the circular carriage. He sits across from you to balance the weight, and you peer over the edge as you’re lifted into the air.

The golden sunset washes the whole park in the most gorgeous shades of yellow and orange, the clouds turning pink above you. It’s absolutely beautiful, just as you thought it might be.

“Stay right there, don’t move.” Hyunggu breaks open his drawstring bag, fishing out his cell phone to take a photo of you. “Trust me, you’ll want this for your Instagram.”

You laugh, even though it’s unlikely. You rarely post photos of yourself. You’re often too critical of the way they look.

“Just keep looking out like that.” Hyunggu moves around the carriage, looking for the best angle. “That’s perfect! Beautiful.”

After snapping a few photos, he sits down next to you to show you the pictures, his arm casually coming to rest across your shoulders. Believe it or not, you actually love them. The multi-colored sky makes the perfect background, and you actually look really lovely (even in the overpriced amusement park t-shirt you’re wearing, since your other shirt is still wet).

Is this how you look in Hyunggu’s eyes?

“They turned out great,” you praise his photography skills as you flip through the photos. “Seriously, these are all incredible.”

He doesn’t say anything. Hyunggu sits quietly, looking down at the phone. You feel his fingertips glide carefully over your shoulder, and the simple touch makes your heart race. How are you supposed to breathe when he’s sitting so close?

You keep your eyes trained downward, even after Hyunggu pockets his phone. You’re too afraid to meet his eyes, too nervous about the minimal space between you.

“_____.”

The way he murmurs your name completely melts you. Does he feel the sudden thickness in the air? Are you just wishing that this could be a romantic moment?

The ferris wheel stops rotating just after you come over the crest. It’s too perfect.

“I love being with you. You’re my best friend. There’s literally no one else I’d rather hang out with.”

Oh God, what is he saying? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? Are you about to be friend-zoned?

What’s going on?

Hyunggu reaches over to hold your hand, and you swear your whole body goes up in flames. “_____, will you look at me?”

You do as he asks, and his face is alarmingly close. He’s beautiful and perfect and everything that you love.

“You are the most incredible person I know.” Hyunggu searches your face. “I don’t want to mess up our friendship by saying something stupid but I can’t keep pretending that I only want to be your friend.”

“Are you serious?” Your eyes linger on his lips. They look so soft and lovely.

“Dead serious. I’m really sorry for just dumping this on you, but I really like you, _____. I have so much fun with you, and it kills me how gorgeous you are.” Hyunggu releases your hand, and he cups your face. “Is there any chance, even just a small one, that you might feel something too?”

His gaze is so beautifully sweet, and you cover his hand with your own, finally finding the courage to spill your feelings. “Hyunggu, I’ve been in love with you for like over a year.”

“In love?” He echoes, his thumb caressing your cheek, and you immediately flush.

“That’s too much, isn’t it…” Maybe you should have censored yourself a little better.

“No, it’s perfect.” His forehead touches yours. “It’s the word I wanted to use, but I was afraid I’d scare you off.”

You nurse your bottom lip nervously. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Hyunggu.”

“I love you too, _____.”

Finally, finally, Hyunggu closes the gap, and his lips press into yours. The kiss is soft, sweet, and everything you’ve waited for.

And now, you’ve finally got him.

#universenet #kino #hyunggu #kino scenario #hyunggu scenarios #kino scenarios #hyunggu scenario #kino imagine #kino imagines #hyunggu imagine #hyunggu imagines #pentagon imagines #imagines

79 notes · View notes

elsaclack · 6 years ago

Note

This is really random but I saw a fic of yours about Amy being sick (I think the prompt was "Amy yells at the Vulture") but I can't find the full piece anywhere. Is it on AO3 anywhere? I love your writing and I completely understand if you just didn't want it out anymore. Just thought I'd ask! :)

i thought it was but i just went and searched my entire work history (including all 70+ chapters of those god-forsaken oneshot collections) and i couldn’t find it anywhere!! i guess i forgot to cross-post it back when i first wrote it, and it got lost when i deleted the original elsaclack. but i just scoured my docs list and found it buried in a random folder so i’ll repost it here and add it to the newest one-shot collection on ao3 :)

fun fact: this was written almost exactly 2 years ago!!! meaning that my writing skills have developed considerably since i actually wrote this. aka please don’t judge me if this seems like a sudden regression haha

also i wanna tag @phil-the-stone-art bc we actually developed the concept of The List together so she’s at least 35% responsible for this fic lmao

under the cut!

Amy Santiago does not get sick, thank you very much. She prides herself on her meticulous nightly hygienic rituals, on the cabinet full of multivitamins and minerals she takes on a daily basis in her bathroom, on the rigorous workout routine and diet she keeps herself on each week to maintain perfect health. She lives her life by a very tight plan (laid out in checklists and carefully organized in color-coded binders) that simply does not afford her any extra time to be sick.

Which is why, when she wakes up one Tuesday morning with a head stuffed full of cotton and violent shivers rolling down her spine, she gets up to start her usual routine in spite of the fact that she feels like she hasn’t actually slept in three weeks. Jake’s still snoring on the other side of the bed, another hour away from getting up to haphazardly dress in whatever flannel he can find lying on her bedroom floor that doesn’t smell too dirty, and he doesn’t even stir at the sound of her shuffling footsteps or running nose.

She drags herself into the bathroom, shuts the door, and flicks the lights on. Her reflection honestly makes her jump back an inch or two; she’s never seen her skin quite so pale, or bruises beneath her eyes quite so dark, or her lips quite so visibly dry and cracked. She reaches out to grip the edges of her sink and realizes that her arms and hands are trembling, and when she leans a bit more weight onto them she notes that her knees are quaking beneath her.

All in all, not a great start to the day.

She presses on, though, ignoring her running nose and congested head and general exhaustion. The shower helps a little, but not much.

When she shuts the water off, she hears Jake moving around in her bedroom, and her heart skips a beat. She hadn’t even realized she’d been in the shower that long. “Jake?” She calls as she wraps a towel around herself. Her voice is coarse and rough.

“Hey,” he knocks lightly at the door. “You okay?”

“Yeah - yeah, could you, um…there’s a binder out on the dining room table, should say something on the cover about that case I was working on last night -” she clears her throat and winces at the sharp pain that responds “- could you grab it and put it in my bag?”

“Sure,” he’s quiet for a moment and Amy’s left to gently rub at her temples with the heels of her hands. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound awful.”

“I’m…I’m fine.”

But she’s not. Her knees are still quaking and vertigo has suddenly set in and she’s swaying, reaching out to grab the tiled edge of her shower. Her hand slips against the wet surface and she falls forward, shoulder banging painfully into the tiles.

The door swings open and Jake bursts inside in a panic. “Ames? Oh my God!” She suddenly realizes that she’d sunk down to a crouching position upon falling. He kneels next to her, gently pulling her away from the shower and letting her lean heavily into him. Her head falls against his shoulder, forehead pressed to the crook of his neck, and she hears him tut. “You’re burning up, babe,” he says quietly.

“I’m fine,” her voice fails half-way through and she ends up finishing in an unconvincing whisper.

“You’re not going to work today,” he tells her.

“But -”

“You almost fainted just now, Amy. You’re staying home sick today.”

She tries to argue but he pulls her up off the ground, keeping his touch firm and steady should gravity leave her again, and her voice completely dies on the way out of the bathroom. He lets her whisper weak arguments as he steers her gently toward the bed, humming and nodding along as he pulls fresh sweatpants up her legs and eases one of his academy shirts over her head. He pushes back on her good shoulder with just enough force that she lays down and pulls the comforter up to her chin. Her eyelids flutter closed when he presses a kiss against her forehead.

“I’ll tell Captain Holt where you are,” he says quietly. His hand finds hers against the mattress, fingers twisting through hers. “Get some sleep, okay?”

She’s asleep before he even gets out the front door.

A few hours later she’s roused by the sound of her phone vibrating on her bedside table. Sunlight streams in through her window and she squints, disoriented, fumbling around with semi-numb fingers for her phone.

From: Jake PeraltaHow u feelin? Miss u at work. Charles says he’ll bring u goat soup later lol

It hurts to even swallow, and Amy has to work really hard to keep from whining at the splitting headache igniting behind her right eye.

To: Jake PeraltaFeel like garbage. I haev a headache. Im afraid to get out of bed for meds. Miss u too

She waits five minutes for him to respond, and when her phone remains motionless, she closes her eyes and lets it fall against her chest.

Precisely twenty minutes after that, she hears her front door open. It closes again and she hears footsteps crossing her living room and it only just hits her that someone is in her apartment when those footsteps cross the threshold of her bedroom.

“Hey, hey, don’t get out of bed,” Jake says soothingly. Amy falls back against her pillow from her struggling half-sitting up position as Jake drops a plastic grocery bag at the foot of her bed and perches on the edge of the mattress beside her. He replaces her phone back on her bedside table with one hand and smooths his other palm over her forehead (and she only just then realizes that she’s sweating) and grimaces. “You’re still burning up,” he says, running his fingers through her hair just above her forehead.

“I’m fine,” she whispers, and the words slip out between two wet coughs.

He frowns and gently scratches his short nails against her scalp. “I brought Advil,” he says, casting an absent glance over his shoulder at the bag he brought in, “and stuff to make soup. It’s the recipe for Nana’s matzoh ball soup.” She raises her eyebrows beneath his palm and he grins down at her. “Don’t tell Charles, but it’s literally the best soup you’ll ever have and it’ll cure your dumb cold in twenty minutes or less.”

“Promise?”

He leans down and pecks a kiss against her forehead. “Promise,” he says when he leans away. “I’m gonna go make some and bring it in here and you’ll be back on your feet before the end of the day. Peralta Guarantee.” He winks.

She sinks down into the mattress as much as she can when he stands up, opening her eyes only when he comes back in with two Advil tablets and a glass half-full of water. Within minutes she begins hearing pots and pans knock around in her kitchen, and through her cloudy mind she registers that her stomach is rumbling in irritation.

“Alright,” he announces from her doorway. Her eyes split open and he’s carefully balancing the soup bowl on top of her dresser. “I’ll help you sit up, don’t move.”

He pulls her up with one hand and waits until she’s sitting up steadily before hurriedly stacking her pillows up behind her. She breathes a sigh of relief when she leans back, not realizing just how much of a strain sitting up is until that moment. He hurries back to where the soup is still steaming and carefully brings it over to her, the tip of his tongue appearing at the corner of his mouth for how hard he has to concentrate on not spilling any.

He nestles it in her lap, and she smiles, because he looks so proud of himself and he’s really so adorable.

Jake stays with her until she finishes the whole bowl and then he takes her dishes from her and quickly rinses them out in her sink.

“I’ll be back after work to check on you and to finish cleaning that, okay?” He calls from her doorway.

She hums hoarsely and fades out of consciousness.

An hour later, Amy wakes up feeling half-human. Her head and throat still hurt and she still can’t breathe out of her nose, but her brain doesn’t feel quite so fried and her limbs don’t feel quite so weak anymore.

Jake was right - the soup really did help.

Not as much as Nyquil would, but…still.

She kicks the comforter off and moves to sit up, and her phone suddenly falls into her lap from her chest. She pauses, staring at it, trying to remember when it ended up back there. She has no new calls or texts, but when she unlocks the screen, there’s a new note pulled up.

Things i want t odo to jake in bed

Amy feels flames engulf her face that have absolutely nothing to do with her fever. The list has twelve items on it, each one raunchier and riddled with more spelling errors than the last, and by the time she gets to the end of the note she’s covering her face in embarrassment. She’s got just the vaguest memory of typing it (and it’s really more of a dream of a memory than anything else), but none of it will solidify into more than just faint snapshots in her head.

But the more she rereads it, the more heat begins building in her body - heat from the mental images, heat from the germs ravaging her body, heat from the thick comforter still draped over her legs.

She has got to go get some Nyquil.

Santiago Determination blazes through her as she drags herself out of bed, shoulders set and jaw clenched as she pulls one of Jake’s hoodies over her frame and slides her feet into her rarely-worn flip-flops. Part of her feels guilty, knowing that if Jake was the one home sick she’d insist on him texting her anything he needs so that he would stay in bed and recover faster, but she brushes it off as she grabs her purse.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?

She blames her scattered brain on the matzoh ball soup later. She blames her compromised detective skills and her lack of attention to detail and her general disorientation on the soup. Because under normal circumstances, no matter how sick she truly is, she would definitely have noticed the Vulture browsing the low aisles of the bodega around the corner from her house immediately upon walking through the front doors.

But as it is, she doesn’t, which means that he gets a visual on her before she’s even aware of being spotted.

She’s so busy perusing the medicine section toward the back that she doesn’t notice him stalking around the shelves, doesn’t feel him peeking around the Doctor Scholl’s cardboard display, doesn’t hear him mutter at a mother and daughter to get out of his way as he follows her ambling walk down the aisle. She isn’t aware of the danger until he’s basically on top of her.

“Yo, Santiago,” he says, his voice low and curdling. She winces and turns slowly, and he’s leaned against the shelves to her left, leering down at her. A handcart hangs between them; it’s full of at least thirty boxes of condoms, she realizes when she glances down. Her stomach shifts unpleasantly. “You look homeless.”

“Get out of the way,” she whispers hoarsely.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Peralta got you screaming so hard every night you lost your voice?”

Heat bursts through her cheeks and she glances back, meeting the scandalized look on that same mother’s face with an apologetic grimace. “Shut up.” She snaps as fiercely as she can.

He smirks, because her voice only comes in bursts. “Damn, you really let yourself go, didn’t you?” His eyes rove her body and she’s suddenly very keenly aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any underwear beneath her sweatpants. She can feel her face blossoming.

“Whatever.” She turns away quickly and digs her phone out of her purse, cursing when she hears the Vulture following her down the aisle. She dials Jake’s number quickly, and he answers after just two rings.

“Hey, is everything oka-”

“I need you go come to the bodega by my apartment,” she whispers. She can feel her hand trembling again and she curses whatever part of her thought it would be a good idea to do this on her own.

“Wait, what? Why are you -”

“I thought I could walk over here and get what I needed without you, but -” she winces at the sound of the Vulture’s laugh, loud and obnoxious behind her. “But I ran into someone and I need you to come save me.”

“Santiago, look - they do make extra-small condoms! Should I put a whole box in for you and Peralta or is that too many?”

She hears a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Is that the Vulture?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Do not faint.”

“I’m doing my best, but please hurry.”

Amy starts pacing up and down the aisles, doing her best to block the Vulture out. He trails along behind her, alternating between making lewd sexual innuendos about random items on the shelves they pass (“Everything’s a sex toy if you try hard enough,” while pointing out a plastic broom) and insulting her general appearance (“Y’know, you were much sexier before Peralta dragged you down to his level of ugliness. Just make sure your ass doesn’t get as fat as his”). It’s around the time they make it back to the medicine aisle that he turns to making fun of Jake himself.

“I still can’t believe you’re with that loser,” he laughs as Amy finally swipes a bottle of Nyquil off a lower shelf. She stands up slowly, gripping the shelves above her firmly, as a wave of vertigo hits her once again. “You’re hot as shit usually - not right now, obviously - I bet you could sleep with any guy you want.”

She clenches her jaw and tries to calculate how long it’s been since she hung up with Jake.

“I bet the sex is really boring, too,” the Vulture continues. “I bet it’s all missionary and full of, like, eye-contact and shit. I bet he tells you he loves you because you don’t make fun of his tiny weiner.”

“Okay, y’know what?” She snaps, and suddenly her voice is half back. “First of all, there’s nothing wrong with missionary if you do it right. Secondly, you’re full of crap if you really think eye-contact is boring. Third, you’re right, he does tell me he loves me, because he actually loves me, you sexist pig. And fourth, he’s not tiny.”

“Whatever. He’s a joke, just like you, and I bet the sex sucks and you’re both so bad at it that you can’t even tell that it sucks.”

She knows people are staring, but her brain just isn’t functioning right. She yanks her phone out of her purse and quickly scrolls over to her list. “Jake’s the best sex I’ve ever had, okay? In fact, he’s so good that I made a list!” She shoves her phone in his face and scrolls quickly, grinning in manic triumph at the dumbfounded look on his face. “I made a list of all the things I want to do with him because he’s so unbelievably good. You wish you were as good as him.”

He is, for once, speechless. Amy locks her phone and steps back, smug grin on her face. The Vulture’s eyes flicker to something over her shoulder and she sees the spark of recognition in his face; when she turns, she feels her stomach drop down to her toes.

Jake’s standing at the end of the aisle, looking just as dumbstruck as the Vulture. She gasps, and the sound comes out like a ragged squeak. His mouth is hanging open but his brows draw together at the sound.

“Ja- Jake,” she says hoarsely.

This seems to snap him out of his stupor. His mouth snaps closed and he immediately begins striding down the aisle toward her and there’s something new in his eyes - smug and barely-contained glee, maybe - when he throws his arm around her shoulders. “Hi, honey,” he says, laying a kiss against her temple and pulling the bottle of Nyquil from her grasp. “Let’s get you back in bed.”

“Yeah, well, you’re both a couple of losers!” The Vulture shouts after them. Jake twists around and flashes his middle finger at him and grins into Amy’s hair at the sound of his splutters. “I’m buying thirty-five boxes of condoms!”

“You’re amazing.” Jake murmurs once they’re outside of the store. “But next time, just call me instead of trying to go get stuff on your own. I really don’t mind doing it for you. That’s what boyfriends are for.”

She sinks into the passenger’s seat of his car and sighs in relief; her body is already aching from the exertion of just a lap around the bodega. She feels Jake slide in on the driver’s side, feels the engine roar to life beneath her and the air conditioner tickle across her face. The car lurches a little when he puts it in drive and then his free hand finds hers and interlaces their fingers.

“I’m sorry about…that.” She whispers once he’s pulled away from the curb.

“It’s fine, but I really mean it about calling me next time, okay? ‘Specially since you almost fainted this morning and everything, like, what would’ve happened if you’d fallen and hit your head and they took you to the hospital? They would’ve called Manny and it would’ve taken him three hours to get here and -”

“Wait, no, they’d call you,” she interrupts. “Manny’s not my emergency contact anymore. You are.”

He turns his head toward her and stares.

“I changed it two years ago, Peralta. Way before we started dating. I just figured, y’know, since you’re my partner and everything, you’d be able to get there the fastest. And, besides, that’s not even what I was talking about. I meant…the stuff I said to the Vulture. The list.”

“Oh,” he shrugs. “I don’t really care. The guy’s an ass. I could hear him yelling all the way from the front doors. Besides, you weren’t lying.”

He squeezes her hand a few times in quick succession and she snorts. “So you’re…not mad? About any of it?”

“I’m more curious than anything else. Do I get to look at the list, too? Or is that just between you and the Vulture?”

“I can’t stand you.”

She does let him see it once they’re back to her place. He reads each item carefully three times over without ever saying a word, and then stands and grabs his laptop and a notepad off of her dining room table. When she asks what he’s doing, he responds with a muttered “research” and then promptly tells her to finish her soup.

The night passes in a haze that has nothing to do with the cold or the soup or the medicine, and the next morning she wakes to the sounds of Jake’s congested voice explaining through chest-rumbling coughs that neither he nor Amy would be making it into work that day.

#em answers #brooklyn nine nine #amy santiago #jake peralta #jake x amy #my b99 fics #god i've been writing for b99 for a Really Long Time #sos #Anonymous

48 notes · View notes