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shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

I swear I ain’t in it for the money, but I can’t stop thinking about sugar daddy shoto. Maybe he sweeps a cute little college kid or barista of their feet, just something fun and casual. But this man starts falling harder, needing a way to lock them down to him. Money isn’t quite cutting it anymore, so he decides fucking a baby into her would do the trick. Shoto would push her down into the mattress, large frame twisting her into a sweet mating press. This way they could stay together forever and Shoto would have absolutely no problem providing for his sweet family <3

but fr tho I feel like Shouto is NOT the type for kids.

Mans will tolerate them when they babble or wave at him, but he very actively Does Not Want them.

Always uses condoms, and even though he’ll threaten not to, it’s never a legit thought in his mind to cum inside. Shouto doesn’t want to be a dad.

-----

You’ll be sittin on a park bench, fading sunset dark and pretty in front of you yet all you can do is cry. There’s not really any people around so it’s not like you’re bothering anyone - you hadn’t wanted to cry in your shabby apartment (half the cause of your worries) just in case you received a noise complaint.

“Are you alright?”

A somber, smooth voice is heard. You’re swiping at your tears quickly as you look up, trying to laugh off your state of distress. “Oh, haha, yeah I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” It’s hard to smile with your puffy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

The man in front of you frowns, hands in his coat pockets, scarf draped around his neck. “You don’t look fine. Mind if I sit?”

He’s already claiming the spot next to you on the bench before you can say a word, turning to you with a passive expression. “Why are you crying?”

And that’s all it takes to have you breaking down all over again, tears streaming down your face. Just one person offering to listen to the heavy burden you have to bear.

‘’M sor-sorry...” You sob, wiping at your eyes with frigid fingers, successful in doing nothing more but smearing tears around your face.

“Here.” The man’s taking off his scarf, gloved hands offering it you.

“I ca-can’t use your sc-scarf sir.” But he’s insistent, pressing it into your hands up by your face.

“I’ll just get another one. Keep it, you’re in need of it more than I am.”

The kindness makes another fresh bout of tears roll down your cheeks, but this time you're able to dab them away with soft fabric as you sniffle.

It takes a moment for you to calm yourself. When you do, you can finally engage in conversation with the man.

You tell him about your job hours getting cut, how you’ve been turned down or ignored by every single place you’ve applied at for a second job. How you’re barely affording to wash your clothes - you have to hang them or drape them across things in your apartment because you don’t have the money to pay for a dryer cycle.

And to top it all off, you’re still short on rent, despite how you scrimped and saved and even forced yourself not to buy groceries this week - you’ve gone hungry for the past three days.

“You haven’t eaten?”

You glance up at the man and his incredulous expression, shaking your head. “I’ve been trying to save money, I thought I could afford my rent if-”

“What kind of food do you like?” The man is pulling out his phone, swiping and tapping immediately.

“Thank you, but I’m not-” looking for charity is what you want to say. Plus, you shouldn’t accept favors from strange men.

But the handsome man is waving you silent. “I’m cold, plus I’d like to grab a bite to eat before I head home. I don’t like eating alone though, you’d honestly be doing me a favor.”

You take a moment to process. Is he telling the truth? He sounds like an honest guy.

“Seems like the only place open around here is “Joe’s 24 hour Diner”.... You mind burgers?”

So that's how you end up in a booth opposite the man (”Shouto” he had told you as you both headed to the diner), munching away at warm food. It tastes so good, you hardly have time to worry about the man watching you as he eats.

You’d been shocked at his looks the moment you’d seen him in the light of the diner. Pretty two-toned hair, different colored eyes, perfect skin, expensive clothes. Why was he even talking to you? It’s obvious the two of you led very different lives.

“How does everything taste?”

“Delicious.” Is your response, and Shouto seems pleased, nodding before taking another bite of his meal.

Maybe it’s stupid... but you feel weirdly safe with this man. He doesn’t seem to bear any ill-intent towards you, nor has he made any comments about your body or let his hands or eyes stray. He seems like a gentleman.

Conversation flows easily between the two of you, even sharing a few chuckles at times. He’s some fancy rich businessman, you learn, and you share about your own life, laughing at the comparisons. Shouto can’t fathom growing up in a house with less than five bedrooms and a personal servant.

He asks for your number, and you’re hesitant in giving it - he surely can’t be interested in you? But he seems so sincere, it’s hard to say no.

When the two of you part ways, Shouto gives you a wave, “Hope to see you again soon, and under better circumstances.”

“You too! And sorry for being such a mess and stopping your walk-”

Shouto shrugs, cheeks beginning to pink from the cold air as you two stand outside the diner. “You needed help. I like to assist.”

-----

The next morning you wake to find an atrociously large sum deposited in your Venmo account by none other than a Shouto Todoroki.

Immediately, you’re calling him. “It’s too much, we just met. How can you give away that much money to some low-life?”

You hear him sigh on the other end of the phone. “You’re obviously struggling. I was wondering what your hours are this week, perhaps we could talk about this over dinner? Or lunch, if that fits better with your schedule. I’m flexible.”

It’s a few days later, days spent questioning yourself, questioning his intentions, before you see him again, both of you deciding to meet for lunch to further discuss... whatever had just happened.

“Was what I gave you adequate to cover your rent?” Are the first words out of Shouto’s mouth after you greet each other.

“Yeah, more than enough-” You squirm. “But I need to ask.... why?”

“Why?”

“Why me.”

“Oh.” Shouto’s expression clears. “That’s easy. I told you a few days ago - I like to assist. I’m quite lonely, and it feels nice to use my money on someone other than myself. I think providing for someone brings me... I wouldn’t quite say joy, but... contentment.”

You contemplate his answer for a moment.

“Well... you saved me with my rent, I don’t really know how to thank you.”

The man leans forward. “Well.... I know it might be a bit sudden, but how would you feel accepting me as a.... benefactor of sorts?”

“You mean like a sugar daddy?” Is your immediate, blurted response. You want to slap yourself for speaking before you have the chance to think about your words, but luckily Shouto just lets out a light laugh.

“If you’d like to call it that. I’m willing to provide financial assistance for you, in exchange for companionship, if you’re willing to give it.”

Your face heats up as you drop your eyes, fidgeting nervously in your seat. “I don’t feel comfortable with a... a sexual relationshi-”

“That’s perfectly acceptable.” Shouto cuts you off before you can continue. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate a contract of that nature. I’m thinking more along the lines of accompanying me at meals, sharing experiences with me, providing company and friendship to a lonely man. If it seems that we’d like to progress further than that after we get to know each other, well, that will be addressed then. For now-” Shouto meets your eye, dipping his head a smidgeon so he can look at you directly. “All I ask for is a simple, non-intimate bond between two people.”

This is crazy.

And yet you accept.

The situation may be wild, and completely absurd, but you’d be a fool not to say yes.

Shouto is charming and handsome, respectful, courteous - you could go on and on about his positive qualities. He just seems like a sad, lonesome man swallowed by work and responsibilities, too stressed and busy to put the effort into making friends the conventional way.

-----

Months pass by.

You’re eating at every meal, sated and never going hungry. You’re able to move into a new place, one that doesn’t smell like cigarettes and sits right next to a railroad.

Clothes aren’t a worry anymore, you have your own washer and dryer in your new apartment (Shouto offered to buy you a house, or a penthouse at the least, but you couldn’t justify it to yourself). You’re able to afford new things, and pretty dresses, shoes that are comfortable and fashionable and that fit.

You no longer have to wear clothes down until they have holes in them. You’re able to go to the doctor’s when you feel sick, able to pay for health insurance.

Life is good.

Shouto is a personable man, serious, but he can be rather funny and even crude at times.

The doubt and thoughts of “Why is he doing this for me?” and “I’m not good enough for this.” plague you, but Shouto always seems to catch on, reassuring you that you’re exactly what he needs - a friend.

And you’re more than happy to be that.

You think sometimes, that even if he wasn’t paying you, you’d still like to be friends with Shouto Todoroki.

Until he starts acting weird.

“You should just stay at my place. I have more than enough room,, it’d be easier for both our schedules. We’d get to see each other more often.”

“Uhm...” You don’t really know what to say. You like your freedom, and having your own place where you can walk around in your (expensive) underwear without being bothered.

“I think it’d be nice, don’t you? We could have breakfast every morning, you wouldn’t have to worry about traveling to and fro, we could spend more time together. We don’t see each other nearly enough.”

He’s pushing, insistent. How are you supposed to tell him no? He’s paying for your entire life. Plus, it wouldn’t be that bad to actually live with him. Shouto’s an amicable man.

So you move in.

“I bought you a few things, they’re on your bed.”

Shouto’s striding into the kitchen where you’re making coffee, buttoning up his shirt as he comes closer. You’ve found that the man likes to sleep in nothing but boxers, shrieking and flushing an embarrassing shade the first time he’d come to wake you up with a sweet “welcome” breakfast in bed.

It’s taken a while to adjust, but you finally feel that you’re fully settled in.

“Oh, you really don’t ha-”

“I wanted to. I went through your closet - your clothes are nice, but your underwear seemed to be lacking.” He’s so matter-of-fact.

All you can do is stare at the back of his head.

“Could you pass me a spoon please?”

-----

Shouto had splurged on expensive, fancy lingerie.

At least eight different sets were laid out on your bed. It was overwhelming. It also felt.... a bit intrusive? They were all in your size, in a complementary color for your skin tone.

Weird.

Not as weird as the onset of Shouto’s casual touches.

You’d be reading, or drinking tea and watching cars race by on the street so far below, and Shouto would come up behind you, caress your sides before intertwining his fingers with yours on one hand. He did it as if it was a normal thing, but it felt anything but normal.

Or you’d be on the couch together, and Shouto would shuffle closer until his large body was pressed to yours, almost curled around you. The faux-cuddling was a bit more off putting. How do you tell him no?

The touches became more and more intimate, Shouto’s gifts more and more frequent until you weren’t even spending a penny, the man taking care of everything.

The arrangement was beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Shouto’s bi-colored eyes seemed to always be on you, tracing the shape of your body, watching you move, or breath, or sit. It was distracting, and you felt bad for feeling this way towards the man who’d pulled you out of poverty, but it was so unnerving.

He seemed to notice.

“You’ve been so stressed these past few days. Is something wrong?” Shouto’s rubbing a hand into your shoulder, hovering over you at the dinner table.

“No?” Is all you can manage, wiping your hands on your napkin as you finish your food.

Shouto frowns. With a sigh, his hand drops from your shoulder and the man leaves your side, heads toward the kitchen.

You clear your plate from the table, following after him so you can wash it and put it in the dishwasher before you head off to get ready for bed.

But Shouto is rummaging in a cupboard, pulling down two wine glasses to accompany the bottle of wine that’s standing proud on the island. It’s your favorite, a sweet wine that Shouto knows you like, always brings it out when he decides to drink whisky or bourbon after dinner.

He pops the cork and pours you a glass while you finish with your dishes, handing you the glass when you turn away from the sink, pressing it into your hands. “Let’s relax a little bit, it’ll be good for both of us.”

You’re fine with that, knowing that a little wine won’t hurt you, especially when it’s of such fine quality. You’d never dreamed that you’d be able to taste such richness in your lifetime, spend frivolous amounts of money on wine and fine eateries. Yet here you are.

Shouto pours himself a glass, barely a sip filling the bottom. The man raises it to his lips and takes a swig, grimacing a bit in his flat, unexpressive way. You giggle a little.

“Too sweet?’

The man nods, setting the glass back down. “I’m not entirely sure how you can stand to stomach it. But if it makes you happy-” He shrugs, before pulling on of the bar-stools out from under the island so he can sit facing you, long legs stretching out before him.

You look at him, and he looks at you, and then you take another sip of wine to avoid the awkwardness.

“You’re distancing yourself from me.”

The accusation is quiet, Shouto’s eyes focused on your fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass.

He’s always been straightforward with his words. “Is there a reason you keep drawing away?”

The wine disappears from your glass, sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You fill your glass again before speaking, struggling to find the right words without upsetting your... benefactor.

“Well, Shouto... I don’t really know how to...” You trail off, hoping Shouto will say something, change the subject, say it’s alright and move on to something else.

But the man stays silent, eyes appraising you.

Taking a deep breath, and another gulp of sweetness, you try again.

“Sometimes the closeness... like, physical closeness? Makes me, well, uncomfortable.”

Hopefully, that would satisfy his curiosity for now. That wasn’t the only reason you’d been avoiding Shouto seeming distant, but you didn’t think sharing the others would result in anything good.

Said man accepted your response, dropping his eyes to his lap as he mulled it over. More wine was consumed, glass re-filled. You felt nervous.

“You’re saying that my touch isn’t something you’d prefer.”

Biting your lip, you soften at his confused expression, at the hint of sadness swimming behind his eyes. “Kind of. I don’t mind you Shouto, you’re really kind, and you’re good company, and a wonderful friend. I just don’t think the.... the intimacy is for me.”

Shouto raises his head, stares at you with those pretty eyes, lips parted as he comes to terms with your words.

“It sounds like you don’t trust me. I would never hurt you, you know this.”

You scramble to assure him. “I do! I do trust you, and I know you wouldn’t.” (at least you hoped) “But I guess I just... Coming into this agreement I wasn’t ready for that type of... thing. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

The man rises, shakes his head as he steps closer to you. “Don’t worry, I remember our first conversation about that aspect. I see that for you, that type of relationship would only begin after you really cared for the other person, trusted and wanted to see them happy, am I correct?”

“Oh, Shouto-” You rush. “No, I care for you, and I trust you, and of course I want to see you happy. I think it’s just, y’know, my last relationship like that went really bad, and it sucked. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Shouto nods, understanding. “I see. You don’t have to worry about any of that with me then.”

A smile crosses your face, and you feel relived that he accepted your rejection with grace and understanding instead of violence or anger. “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”

The mood of the room shifted, from tense and uncomfortable, to easy and light, and you poured another glass of wine, laughing a little at how worried you were about the conversation with Shouto, only for it all to turn out fine.

“I’m going to go drink some of the liquor that’s kept in my room. I could mix a few drinks for you to try, you might like how sweet they are. I know hard alcohol isn’t quite your thing.”

You beam a smile, nodding your head eagerly. Before, you’d feel apprehensive about going into his room with him to drink alcohol. But with the conversation the two of you just had, you knew - things would be fine.

-----

The room was spinning and you felt giddy and light. You were definitely tipsy.

“You can lay down on my bed, you’re getting wobbly on your feet.” Shouto had offered, and you’d gladly accepted, flopping down onto his comfy bedspread with a laugh at how the motion made butterflies rise in your tummy.

Shouto leaned against his dresser, swirling whiskey in his glass as he watched you, a half-smile across his face. You smiled back, before closing your eyes, a little bit tired as you realized that you might be a bit more than just tipsy.

Shouto had mixed quite a few drinks for you, and you’d drank each one eagerly, impressed with how little alcohol you could taste in each one. You don’t remember how many you had, but it didn’t really matter.

The next thing you know, hands are on your waist, scooting you further up the bed so your legs no longer hang off the edge. Cracking open an eye, you’re met with the visage of red-and-white, eyes soft and warm as they regard you, Shouto’s face tinged a bit pink from the few drinks he had consumed. The man had never been too good at holding his alcohol.

When those hands started to slip beneath your shirt, you wiggled like a little worm, not really comprehending the situation. Maybe it was a dream.

Your shirt was discarded, then your pants. It felt much more comfortable now, and you mumbled a “thanks” to the man helping you settle for bed. He was so nice, Shouto took such good care of you. You still kind of couldn’t believe the turn your life had taken with him, the good luck pushed into your path.

Someone was kissing you.

With a grunt of surprise, you kissed them back, meeting their feverish pace and trying to keep up, soft lips puckering and pushing against your own with intent. Kissing felt good. You liked kissing.

Then a hand was cupping your face, stroking tenderly over your cheek before it began sliding down, down your neck, into the valley between your breasts, trailing over your bra. It felt funny.

Pushing back for air, you gasped when the hand on your chest started squeezing at you, eyes flying open with the startling, sudden sensation.

Shouto was hovering over you, lips puffy, panting as he stared at you with lusty eyes, an uncharacteristic look on his face. This... this wasn’t supposed to be like this. You knew. Hadn’t the two of you just talked about something... important? Was it important?

You didn’t feel panic until a hand cupped your sex, feeling your skin through your panties.

This wasn’t right.

Alarm bells were ringing, dull and far away, but you didn’t think that Shouto should be touching you in such a way. you should be going to bed.

“Mm, Sho, can you stop?” But your words felt funny on your tongue, and Shouto didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t hear you.

His hair tickled your chin as the man bent to mouth at your tits, pulling the cups of your bra underneath them so he could feel your hot skin, let his saliva drag slick and wet against your chest.

Your hands instinctively rooted themselves in his hair as you gasped again, not expecting such a move, tugging lightly at his head to pull him up. Shouto just groaned, teething gently at your breasts and not moving an inch. His hips were grinding against the bed though, as he stood between your spread legs.

Before you knew it, your panties were gone, bra clumsily unclasped and discarded, and you were completely bare. Shouto was undressing before you, struggling with the buttons on his shirt before giving up, easily ripping the fabric of his body with one tug, grumbling.

You didn’t feel so tipsy anymore.

“Shouto, what’re we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, we need to stop-”

“Stay down.” Was his firm command, a hand splayed across your naked chest and pushing you back into the mattress as you tried to sit up. It made you breathless, the growl in his voice, the dominance emanating from the man. You stayed still.

“This’s gonna make us a stronger couple.” The man slurred, eyes dark and hands wandering, effortlessly keeping you pinned against the bed as he ground his hips forward against the edge. You were getting scared.

“Wait-”

You fell silent as one hand pushed down his pants, his underwear going with them, pink cock bobbing free. He was so pretty down there, and it made sense, all of him was pretty, but you suddenly realized the weight of the situation, what was happening.

“Shouto, no, oh my god. We gotta stop right now, we’re drunk, we’re-we’re-”

“Don’t care. Not gonna let you hide away from me this time.” Shouto shook his head, taking his cock in one hand and giving it a long, slow pump, flushed tip weeping precum and wetting his hand.

“No, no, this is wrong. I don’t want this, I could get pregnant!” You cried, beginning to panic for real, pushing against the one strong hand anchoring you to the bed.

Shouto just chuckled, letting go of his cock to crowd against you, getting up in your face to press a wet finger to your lips, the salty taste of his precum threatening to slip into your mouth unless you kept it shut. “Shhh, shh. If you stay nice and still, if you do what I say, I’ll use a condom.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You’re gonna listen to me, you always do.” The man nodded to himself, once again dragging his cock against the bed between your legs, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “Or else I’ll fuck you raw.” The finger was pulled from your lips, only to be wagged teasingly in your face.

You couldn’t believe how he was acting.

“Be nice.”

Shouto tapped your nose with a neatly manicured finger, before groaning as he heaved himself upright, red cock bobbing against his stomach, desperate for attention. The man gave you a look, as if to say “don’t move” before he took his hands off you, heading for his dresser.

Once you saw him pulling out a strip of condoms, you were on your feet, stumbling toward the door.

Although panic had sobered you somewhat, you were still struggling with the effects of the alcohol, so your reaction time was maddeningly slow. Slow enough that you weren’t able to truly fight against Shouto when he grabbed you from behind toned arms wrapping around your middle and heaving you into the air, only to throw you back on his bed.

You were almost sick on the bedspread, world spinning and stomach protesting, but you were able to calm yourself.

But then Shouto was on you, flipping you onto your back, a soft hand pressing against your throat threateningly.

“You want to have a baby? Want me to cum in you so you’ll get all fat with kids? Hm?” He was so intense, almost choking you, straddling your waist and keeping you pinned. It was too much

You were able to manage a tearful, desperate “No!” despite the hand around your throat, and Shouto backed off, releasing the pressure to instead stroke his hand against the sides of your neck.

“Stop acting like this, it’s the next logical step for us. You said you cared for me, wanna make me happy. This’ll make me happy. I won’t be like the last guy.”

His cock was pressed against your stomach, and you could feel it twitching. Shouto clambered off of you, letting go of your neck so he could grab the condoms he’d tossed on the bed before snatching you up.

“Do what I say and I use these.” He waved them in your face before tearing one off, beginning to open it.

You stayed still, gazing at him blearily, limbs feeling fuzzy, mind feeling the same.

The condom was rolled onto Shouto’s cock, the man spitting into his palm and giving the latex a few rubs to make it slick before reaching for you.

He dragged you to the edge of the bed - the perfect height for him to fuck you - and you didn’t fight, terrified of his threat. You couldn’t stand the thought of a baby.

(You didn’t know, but neither could he)

“Wanted to do this since I met you.” Shouto mumbled, pushing your panties to the side with a few fingers so he could guide his tip to your hole. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t know what to think of this side of Shouto. This unreserved, uncareful, slurring mess of a man that loomed before you, gaze dark and wild, limbs everywhere as he groped and squeezed and appreciate the shape of your body.

But he must’ve gotten impatient, because then he was pushing inside.

It hurt, stinging pain rippling up your back and you keened, causing Shouto to pause. One of his hands darted down to wrap around your calf, hauling it up on the bed so he could lean forward and press it to you chest, sinking his cock a few inches deeper.

“You’re gonna take it.” He hissed before messily kissing you, pressed so close together that it was hard to breathe. “I’ll make it feel good after you do.”

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dame-nervy · 3 years

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“This nightmare will never end, will it?” (Newt x Reader)

Where the Reader and Newt are sitting in the glade together feeling hopeless.

[angst]

Prompt by: Deity Prompts ( @deity-prompts )

Today had been a long day. A couple arguments had broken out, which resulted in a fight and two Gladers being locked up for the night. Alby had reminded everyone of the rules and why we have them, but it seemed like everyone was just off. Including myself and Newt. We’d swiped a jar of Gally’s drink to share and found a spot at the edge of the Dead Heads far away from the other Gladers who were mostly trying to sleep.

We’d been talking for a while now, the drink nearly gone, not drinking the way we do on bonfire night, just taking our time to nurse it between us as we vented. “Nothing changes. All the time we’ve been here and we’ve found nothing. Minho keeps saying ‘keep your eye out’, ‘we’ll find something’ but I’m starting to doubt it.” Newt admitted sounding frustrated, not that I could blame him, being a Runner is the hardest job in this damn hole. “Winston’s not saying it but I’m starting to worry about the chickens, they don’t seem to be producing as many eggs as of late. If we don’t get something in the box soon, in a couple months we might be in trouble.” I said taking a sip when he passed me the jar. We were silent for a moment as we looked out over the Glade, Newt breaking the silence first. “It’s like some awful dream.” It was said barely above a whisper, almost like he wasn’t saying it to me. “A nightmare.” I said, taking another sip before handing it back to him. He looked at the jar for a moment, swirling around the mouthful or so of what was left before looking out into the Glade. “This nightmare will never end, will it?” The way he said it scared me a bit, the utter despair, the question almost seemingly added as an after thought for my benefit. “I- I don’t know. I hope it will.” The silence that followed my pathetic try at reassurance made my stomach churn as he stared at the closed maze doors. “Newt, are you alright?” I asked quietly, not sure if I could handle the answer. “I don’t know.” He said after a too long silence, continuing to stare at the doors a while longer as I sat there not knowing what to say before he turned to look at me, a small smile on his face, obviously forced. “Better go to bed, gotta get up early to run the maze.” He finished the rest of the drink before standing up and starting his walk back to the homestead, leaving me to comprehend what had happened.

The next morning I awoke earlier than normal. Usually the doors opening woke me, but I was restless with the way Newt had behaved last night. I got up and watched the Runners mill around waiting for the door to open. I saw Newt, even from this distance I could tell he was off. He was a few steps away from the others and he wasn’t carrying himself like the other Runners; stretching and bouncing on their toes a little, he seemed distracted. He was looking around at the Glade, taking his time before stopping on me. Maybe he wasn’t looking at me as I was standing at the Homestead, but he didn’t move his head from my spot for a long while, not until the sound of the doors caused both of us to look away. When I looked back he seemed to be saying something, his hand coming up to his shoulder in a small wave which I managed to return before he was off, running through the door after the others. I stood their for a while before Winston dragged me off to breakfast, giving me a weird look. “What’s got you shucked up this early?” He asked as we got our meals from Frypan and sat down with the other Slicers. “It’s Newt. He seemed really off last night, and even so this morning. I don’t think he should have run today.” I told him honestly as I pushed around my food. “Yesterday was tense for everyone, and Newt’s got a good head on his shoulders. Once he starts running he’ll be fine. Just talk to him tonight.” Winston said, though it sounded like a part of him was trying to convince himself as well as me. I nodded my head, but the worry stayed. I knew I had to talk to Newt tonight, try to help him with whatever was going on. “Until then just focus on the job. There’s nothing you can do about it now anyway.” Winston added, probably trying to save me a trip to Med-jacks, considering how easy it was for a Slicer to end up there when they were focused, much easier when distracted. So that’s what I did; focused on the job until I could see Newt. Too bad the next time I saw him he was being carried out of the maze by Minho.

#the maze runner #x reader #Newt #Newt x Reader #the maze runner x reader #writing #one shot

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mythykl · 4 years

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UNSPOKEN,, *todoroki x (f) reader

Genre : fanfic, smut *aged up* (shoto is imagined to be 21yo or something,, and reader as 19yo)

rating : explicit, NSFW, 17+

Warning : fingering, oral?? todo is pretty horny overall. starts w a pretty intense bg story, so you gotta read through all that to get to the good stuff. cool.

words?? idk, it’s pretty lengthy tho.

our todoboi is a pretty lovin’ bf in here.

————————-

“I’m really sorry for yesterday, Y/N. I-I did’n-”

You clench your fists as you sit on the couch beside him, and interrupt, “Whatever it is- save it, I don’t blame you to begin with. I-I’m just mad. I’d spent almost a week for that chapter, to give justice and bring perfection in what I wanted to put across to the readers. Well- its not even about the time; I had thought through it so much, and atlas thought of typing it out yesterday- I mean- whatever crap that I had even written, I was proud of that- until,, your ignorant ass decided to show up in the room and fuckin’ switched off the computer assuming it’s already logged off, o-or whatever. You could’ve at-at least- fuck-” yup ya ass is livin’ in the worst nightmare of a writer, stay steady

You of course cried, and even threw a tantrum for an hour or so once you realized what had happened. But primarily, you were just mad- mad at yourself for not saving that damn file, and even at him cuz ofc.

Todoroki certainly didn’t take it well, since he is sad at present, and can’t even look in your eyes. He apologized multiple times since last night and had even prepared a breakfast for you before leaving for work; on the other hand, you haven’t even answered to his appeals yet with clarity.

Out of the blue you just cup his cheeks, making him instantly look up- at you, and then get up with an audible sigh, “Go get ready, I’ll prepare our dinner by then.” That gesture somehow took him aback.

He gets up instantly and blurts out in confusion, “I d-didn’t expect you to prepare a dinner for me, and on top of it- wait for me so we can have it together. You should’ve ate already, it’s almost midnight.”

You turn back to him, walking towards him to hold his hands, "I honestly don’t know what to reply. My heart- just thought it is the right thing to do that; one mistake isn’t enough to just hate you all of a sudden, Shoto. Moreover we are talking about this, it’s not like you’re being arrogant or things are left unsaid- and you’re genuinely sorry. I can see that in your eyes. I’m just- I don’t know. I’m depressed a bit- yes, but it can’t be helped now. I need some time to think, maybe.”

Little did you know that your kind words pricked him like thousands of tiny needles against his skin. He loves you, and however seemingly ‘small’ mistake this might be, he hates himself for hurting you- the person he loves so dearly. He thinks of his mother, his complicated family life- which had made him seemingly unemotional. You were one of the people to break through that forged cold wall. He had finally accepted you as his reality than his mere escapism and live with you, but here he is- bringing tears and fueling anger in you, like a good for nothing- just like his father.

After a slight pause, he just busts his arms open and pull you close to him, in his warm embrace, “What did I possibly do to deserve such an angel?” He almost whispers in his beautiful voice.

An angel?

“So talented, pretty, wonderful, real and warm. Remember. I love you. No matter what. I always will. And I respect you- your passion, interests, talent, likes and dislikes, freedom, strengths-weakness, your work, happiness- everything. Throw all the tantrums you want and cry all you want- more than just agreeing and being there for you- I’ll always make sure I understand you first. I’m sorry for being so ignorant lately.”

It may seem as if he’s crying, but he’s not. He said all that with a tough stance and gratefulness in his tone, a faint disbelief of having you as his significant other. While you just stood there, in surprise. You aren’t oblivious to his past and his journey through it. Is he blaming himself? or Is he again thinking that he doesn’t deserve happiness?- you’re at the loss of words and a mind fumbling all over the place. You simply subside the chaos, and hug him back.

“We’re definitely working, Todoroki. Understanding each other more than just being in love- something that many fail to do. Isn’t this great?” You at last blurt out.

“Yes. I guess,” he says as he detaches himself from you, “I’ll be right back- until then, read what I’ll send you as you have dinner. Gonna sound stupid of me- but I already had dinner at office. I assumed that you’d not prepare a meal for me and- would be asleep by now as well.”

“Wow icyhot, I’m mad at you even more now,” you say playfully as you walk towards the kitchen.

“I-”

“Save it. You would be saying that for the millionth time now,” you chuckle as you grab your phone, lying on the dinner table.

Before serving your food, you decide to see the text, only to find an attachment with a rather strange message- ‘Hey, here’s an headcanon for chapter 37, that I wrote. Enjoy.’

Wait-

Headcanon??

Wait did he- read your wattpad book? And moreover, came up with a theory to what might happen in the ne- next chapter.

Nice. jk. Ofc you lost your shit

For the sake of getting back to senses, you legit do the deep breathing shit- which your therapist always recommended you to do.

Now what?

You serve yourself some noodles instantly, since you don’t feel hungry anymore, rush to the dining table and start chomping on the cold noodles as you open the attachment.

What made you almost throw up was that the mention of word counts. Which is 3k by the way, though no where near how much you usually write.

Shoto is definitely not the kinda guy to have read any wattpad books, or more specifically even have come across the word 'headcanon’.

He probably noticed how you mention it as well at the end, but decided to put it in the beginning,, for god knows what reason?? Or, he did decide to go through the fanons- which your readers’ posts on tumblr. This eases your nervousness, you clearly urge for more.

You swipe down, reading furiously fast, yet scanning every word and sentence- atleast twice. The chapter, honestly, was mediocre. He had ideas but couldn’t put them across- with excessive repetition of words, but he is almost close to-

“Honey, are you done?” Todoroki’s voice almost scares you. You look at your bowl ready to grab another bite- but you had already finished the meal.

“Earth to Y/N. Don’t tell me my words were that mesmerizing,” he says with a smile as he rubs his hair with a towel.

“Let’s be honest, though you don’t have the talent of a writer, your idea was- kinda similar to mine. What I’m sayin is that you almost. GOT. IT. RIGHT. Well, kuro did spy on KAORI’S house that unfaithful night, and he didn’t have any sources as such, which does mean that he is hiding his real quirk- but, no- I’m not telling you more than that.”

“Since you already know that I read all your chapters, and did like the book- I certainly can’t wait to understand why KURO would possibly do that.”

You just smirk off his curiosity; “You gotta wait boy,” you say as you as you walk back to kitchen counter with your bowl. Todoroki marches behind you to grab the cleaning cloth to clean the table, as you do the dishes.

“Put that towel in the washing machine, please.”

“Yup,” you almost feel an ounce of happiness in his reply. After he closes the machine’s door, you at last ask, "So what are your thoughts?“ It has never been one of you expectations for the people to you read your books or even, praise you for writing, but a review wouldn’t hurt, would it?

"Uhh- well, I love how everything is now just coming together, as one can foreshadow that the book’s gonna end. The use of words was elegant, and the plot is bewitching. Has been a while since I even read anything in thriller, that too- this good. Fuck. Reading kaori’s point of view just the day before the murder was- unbelievable. And characters, they all are just great.”

That is indeed a Todoroki kinda explanation.

“Wow you did read all of tha-” but before you could complete your statement, shoto just grabbed your hips and stood tall behind you, now speaking in an extremely low tone, “And not to mention- the first sex between Kaori and Braun, it literally was like the depiction of ours. Except, they were awkward and slow, we weren’t.”

You pause. what took over him all of a sudden?

He continues, “That gave me a whole another perspective to what sex really means, and moreover what intimacy mean to you. It was.. surreal. Reading it, was as if- I’m living through that afternoon again, but with more emotions, and a bit more of you.”

“It’s not like I’ve explored much to actually wri-”

“Oh, is that so?”

“I’m not complaining, of course, but these are the moments I believe must be left to cherish and our intimate times just feel more- sacred to me like this??” Sigh, “Ugh. Now, how do I explain?” Well, that is true, even though Todo and you’ve dated for almost two years now, it was just four months ago that you lost your virginity with him, on your nineteenth birthday.

He had already lost his with the previous girl he was with. Though he never implied, it felt as if you were obliged to do it for him, due to your own insecurities. Once he got to know that, his reaction was nothing as what you had thought. He said that he loved you, and such things are nothing related to love; that sex is overrated, and continued on saying dorky yet adorable stuff like- cuddling was much better and what not. Since then, you had sex with him just thrice. None of you were really against this unspoken agreement, to not have-

Wait, an unspoken agreement?

Unspoken.

You instantly feel like an hypocrite, since you had just claimed to have nothing unspoken between you both.

Sudden a sharp pain in the skin of your neck brings you back to reality. Shoto is sucking on your skin, kissing ever so lightly. As if marking you.

An audible morn escape your parted lips as the bowl just falls on the kitchen sink. Todoroki leans forward and simply closes the tap and whispers, “So you do like to be 'submissive’, don’t you? Had this discovery while reading one of your books, 'Starless nights’.”

The exact book for which you had to watch vintage porn to make the chapters with intercourses more sensual and intresting.

Again, taking you by surprise, he simply turns you around as you continue stare at the ground with your hands wet, in front of you like dog’s pow.

“So I assume you liked my headcanon.”

“Yup; was much better than the crap I write, let’s go to-” but you’re interrupted-

“Now baby, we both know you’re the better writer, and that you just lied.”

“That was sarcas-” but he just pulls you closer and spanks you hard. You hiss as the pain spreads all over your butt cheeks.

“Never interfere, Y/N.” Wait wut-

Your immediate reaction was biting your lips- is he saying the words from the book? Not exactly inacting them but attempting to set a similar atmosphere, which you lowkey craved for in your wildest dreams.

“Since I’ve anyways taken this unspoken, unofficial oath of keeping you happy and stuff, now why not help you with some satisfaction- with all those juices flowing down your-”

You suddenly push him back and blurt while blushing hard, “Stop with this teasing and aw- awkward co- conversations todoroki! Fuckin’ juices, seriously? I’m not co- comfortable with-”

But then, you notice his right hand in your shorts. Or more like the sheer coldness against you clit, almost like there’s ice against it. When did his hand go in there? You end up clenching his T-shirt, as you jolt up on your toes.

“You. Clearly. Want. This. Don’t. You.” Suddenly, he pulls his hand out as he grabs your ass tight as he pulls you even further. Then, he brings his hand up to the height of you face and simply starts stares at the dampness on his fingers, “Wetter than I suspected."

Now behold the unbelievable.

He keeps staring at his fingers, opens his mouth as he places his fingers into them and suck it as you watch this piece of art in awe.

"Can’t believe that I had you like- just thrice before this. You do live up to what I usually call you, honey.” He continues, “I hope you’ve noticed my creativity as well, as i used my coldness to.. nudge it.”

“You’re being quite quirky today, aren’t you?” This statement just makes him go still, and the next second he’s found laughing. His deep voice, almost reverberating in the silent room. He steps back, brings one hand to his face as he looks down and continues to laugh. The mere sight of him in this way gives you so much warmth, this is the moment you realize that this is the true home. With him.

When he finally looks up, the mere sight of you blushing so hard makes him lose his composure again, but this time it’s a nervous laugh.

Approaching closer, you set your hands on his torso and continue, “That was quite execrable pun to chortle at, we were doing excellent just now-” but in reply, he simply cups his hand around your cheeks and say, “Shit y/n. You’re going to be the death to me,” and continues grinning like an airhead.

Why is he being annoying now? After so much sexual tension, how can he stop? In midst of you cursing yourself in your head, he leans at your height and kisses you.

Finally being out of patience, you look at the ground and stutter, “Ca-can we do i-it al-alrea-”

“Quite frankly, I’d like if you stay quiet, you shall take what I’ll give you, right?”

You look up immediately into his beautiful heterochromic eyes and say without any further doubts with a smirk, “Go ahead, Shoto, who am I to deny?”

“Sedective. umm, I like that.” he smirks too.

“Know that I love you,” and that’s it. Within one second, his hands are in your hair and his face is buried in your neck, digging deeper into you, as if uprooting releasing your soul from your body.

Skin glistening on your collar bone now and colours warming up on your cheeks, you whimper under his dominance, as he squeezes your waist and lightly nips against your shoulder. You shiver, with pretty evident goosebumps, in spite of the heat you both bear at this point.

Your breath gets hitched in your throat as he moves inwards below your collarbones. while his hands rest on your waist. You involuntarily climb a bit on him, intending to close the gap, but more to feel his manhood against you. Your hands firmly on his shoulders, almost pushing him back- maybe because it’s too much pleasure to feel at once.

At another rise of your hips, Todoroki places his hand on your waist and pushes you back down, “Easy, easy princess,” he mummers before getting back to fiercely kissing me. You run your fingers through his hair, as you body slowly commences to accept an indeed new experience bombarded at you.

Suddenly, you remember something. In heist, you shove him back and say, “Wait! We need to wash our hands- I- I mean we have just did chores. Well, at least partially and I need to wash myself- I mean I’m clean,” but then you stop to look at him just to find him in utter shock.

“Shoto! I mean I want this but hygiene is impor- fuck. I’m. Such. A. Boner. Killer. Ain’t I?”

“Point made.” Todoroki picks you up in bridal style and rushes towards the bathroom. for some reason i thought of adding this,, lmao

“Wait what-?”

“No time to waste.”

This makes you giggle a bit. You wash yourself while he as well washes his hands, and you practically pull him out of the bathroom, grab him by his collar and kiss him deeply as his hands slowly move up and down, feeling your torso- flesh untouched due to s mere knit.

His hand unapologetically moves to the hem of your sweater, and further inside; but within one move of his, you stood there shivering, exposed.

Immediately, you move forward in order to close the distance between you and shoto out of nervousness. His eyes drop down to your heaving chest and you’re painfully aware of that.

“Don’t. Don’t hide,” he mutters, grabbing a hold of your hands and locking them behind with one of his own for you to stay still; as he slides his other in your shorts. You feel his gentle hand running down the slit.

“Honey you’re dripping wet, what have i done to this innocence?” It seems that he expected a reply, but you didn’t. You just couldn’t. He then pulls the other hand to you face, diving in for yet another passionate kiss- accompanied by a battle of tongues this time. You are going breathless, but he refuses to move away.

The creasing in your folds level up to three fingers now,. He isn’t generous anymore, with aggressive circles in there, he finally commands, “Say my name.”

“Sho-shoto.” Your moans only fuel in his lust and desires, his want, an indeed selfish want to have you all for himself, to offer the utmost satisfaction.

He pushes a finger into you as you instinctively let out a small breath hold his busy arm with both of your hands. This makes him push you against the wall with his free hand.

“M-my legs, it’s going numb,” on hearing this, he removes his own shirt and slightly repositions himself, with one hand now on the waist and the other back in there. He kisses your forehead as you look down, unable to keep up with his pace.

That’s when the coldness returns.

“I- ah- can we ge-get to the bed first?” Your stuttered words only results in a widened smile from him. He is enjoying the sight, clearly in love with the effect he has on you. His head shakes, further sliding another finger inside you, “You can do it baby. You’re taking it all in without questioning.”

You nod quickly, as you start climb up a bit again. In return, he slowly curls his fingers- more and more with each passing second making you almost cry out this time, “Please n-no, this is too intense for me.”

“Yet my princess didn’t make Braun stop after that, I read in somewhere that Kaori secretly wished for him to not stop even if she said so. Just go on.”

You didn’t know how to come back at it, because it is true. You want your Shoto to push those limits you’ve set for himself, and you’d as well be fine if he simply throws off you cliff at this point.

“Now now, spread your legs y/n.”

Did he say something? You couldn’t listen. With eyes rolled back, you can’t comprehend anything to begin with.

“SPREAD YOU LEGS or else I won’t play nicely.” You’re eyes shoot up, and find his already searching for yours; before leaning in and gently kissing you. Your legs not being shut anymore, todo takes the opportunity, making his finger get stuffed deeper. His two digits start moving faster and harder, pounding against your walls- all while he feels you squirm to slow down.

“You can take it hun’,” he definitely knows what he’s doing, and you’re totally in for it. “Y-yes,” you moan softly. This is when he slides in a third finger, now really making you scream.

You attempt to gasp and struggle to stand, but then he says,”Stay,” as you unknowingly slide down the wall. Your nails dig in the skin of his back as you try to stable your stance on your tip toes yet eventually, your legs give out on you.

Suddenly, you feel him hit a spot which just pulls something inside your stomach. Todoroki on the other hand, notices your unusual hitched breath and starts hitting the SAME. EXACT. SPOT.

His free hand goes to the back and around your waist, holding you evermore tightly so that you won’t hurt yourself.

“I feel- like that- again-,” you manage to blurt.

“Like what?”

“Like pe-peeing, b-but different. Just like th-the last time we-”

He simply smirks, “We what?” He sighs and growls in your ear, “Is princess gonna squirt for me?”

Your body shudders against him as you moan his name, again and again, “Shoto, I-I-”

“That’s it. Squirt for me y/n,” with that he removes his hand entirely for one second, only to push two digits inside again, now thirsting harder and curling tighter; with his thumb against you slit. His hand grows even more colder, almost stinging down there, making you restless.

“Now.”

He watches you open your mouth and moan loudly, as his hand only gets wetter, feeling you squirt against his hand. You shake hard in his hold. He doesn’t let you go. A tear escapes you eyes, but simply doesn’t seem to care,”Shoto, for some reason I-I feel s-so great wi-with yo-,” but you are interrupted as he shoves you further against the wall , sliding down your shorts and undergarment, again with three fingers in.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises you while curling those fingers inside and then removing them together. He further continues, “seems like you’re ready,“ as he rubs the wetness inside the slit, giving special attention to your clit.

Saying that, he kneels down, now facing lower abdomen and plants a kiss over there. You simply look down at him, still struggling to balance, searching for even a slightest hint to know what is there to come.

Maybe he’ll stand up an carry you to the bed? or How about making him feel better this time?

But then, his face smashes his face on your dampness; almost attempting to bury in it as he holds you up and pushes. your legs apart. You clearly know where this is going, todoroki will be showing no mercy whatsoever.

"That wasn’t even the start honey,” he confesses in midst of you moans and begs for him to go slow. It doesn’t hurt anymore as much as it gives an unbearable form of pleasure.

You moan and whimper, yet he continues to suck in your clit. You can feel a finger inside, or maybe two, as they go in and out. Practically shattering you all at once while fusing you once for all.

Your hand travel its way to his hair. Ruffled enough to make the red and the white parts almost indistinguishable.

Oh dear.

Though your eyes are close, hands are fumbling around for support and legs are strictly held in place by Shoto, yet you can feel his tongue moving. As if in patterns, not that you could figure out. It either went in for an eight or just licked off entirely as one does while eating an icecream. You moan his name again and again, the same sensation building up block by block as he paves deeper and denser.

“I can’t take this anymor-”

“What makes you think that’s gonna stop me from eating this pussy.”

Little do you know that shoto can’t hold back anymore, it’s not just that he is in control but he has lost control. At the sight of your dark flushed red cheeks, delicacy and vulnerability, he only gets faster and tougher on you. His other fingers reach around and grips your ass, with his fingers slightly grazing across your unused hole.

That’s it, that was enough for you to go stagnant again, in your mind atleast. Your legs start shaking, with your mouth parted yet again. Shoto quickly stands up, with fingers still inside, to help you stay stood up. You feel yourself about to pass out, but in actuality are fully awake and aware. He kisses you, now moaning with you as well, as he fingers you until you cum.

His teeth take in your lower lip as your eyes flicker up at his unmatched ones.

Shoto, with one hand against the wall, halts for a minute. He stands tall in front of you, while holding you as you struggle to stand.

In midst of huffed breaths, you manage to say, “I- I, I mean- can I make you feel good as well?” On listening thise words, he goes still, “Baby, you can barely stand.”

“Still-” but again, before you could say anything, he picks you up in bridal style and dropping you on the bed; letting you lay back while he removed his left over garments.

This is when his erect manhood is finally exposed, refilling your memories of your first time when you had simply wondered how would you take all of that in. You did, though it was painful. But this time you refuse to be scared by the length, you know this is going to feel the best and you’re willing to take him in, deep inside you.

Shoto sighs and walks to the bed, “No-”

“Shoto?”

“Tonight is about you. Let ME explore you.”

“I wa-wanna hug you,” you blurt out.

He giggles, “sure, all that my y/n wants shall come true.”

But when you attempt to get up, your legs just fail to response. Even the slightest movement feels like a bolt of electricity run through you. At the sight of you falling back on the bed, Shoto simply smirks and says, “By the looks of it, I think I did a pretty good job at pushing your limits.”

“Don’t- I can’t even walk.”

“Wait,” he climbs on the bed beside you, sitting with back against the headboard while you lie against him, still breathless, still attempting to move.

“Don’t move princess,” saying this, he carefully pulls you up, with your head on his thigh. He helps you sit up slowly, while embracing your body against him, and finally hugs you, like a child clenching onto his teddy favourite bear.

“You are so beautiful,” he says as he gets up, while eyes glued on you. He moves to the end of the bed and pulls you towards him as he climbs in again. His two digits reenter your dampness, almost making you hiss at first but it’s soon replaced with moans.

Your back arcs as you mumble, “Sho-shoto, I’m very sensitive ri-right n-now. ah-”

While on his part, he receives it as a signal to level up to the next stage. He slowly penetrates in, soon pacing up. Warmth filled in your hearts and sweat glinting the lustre. He repostions you both a couple of times, giving you different forms of pleasures with each go.

You as well witness his fire quirk leaking out at times. He kisses you deeply and claims you as his own as he repeats the words, “I’ll never let you go.”

Now it’s past 3am, as your exhausted bodies lay next to each other; that’s when he whispers, “I love you.” Maybe he thinks you are already asleep, but you are not. He clearly can’t leave anything unspoken.

i hope this has left you baffled

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sassmill · 3 years

Note

Hey! I saw that you went to Cedar Crest!! I’m attending there in the fall this year!!! How did you like it and if you have any advice for campus what would it be?

Omg I only just checked my inbox sorry for the wait! I absolutely loved it there. Obviously no place is perfect (and within administration there are certainly issues there, the Pledge Her Our Best alumnae group has been working to address this) but I was able to find such a perfect little niche for myself in the theatre department. It’s honestly a second family for me now. That’s one of the smallest departments so I’m sure it’ll be different if you’re majoring in like nursing or criminal justice, but don’t be shy about getting to know your advisors and professors. If they’re in your department, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them so you may as well get comfortable!

My biggest pieces of advice if you’re living on campus:

1) if you can afford it, the unlimited meal plan is the only meal plan that’s actually worth the cost. Parkhurst Dining Services is terrible, they keep raising prices without improving service and they treat their employees like shit (also,75% of the folks that worked in the dining hall and cafe during my four years were super cool. Befriend them before they get fired or quit, the company treats them *that* poorly). So if you’re paying out the ass either way, you might as well have unlimited meal swipes so you can just hang out in canova commons all day if you need to. Which brings me to my second piece of advice-

2) find a spot other than your dorm to work. Besides just giving you somewhere separate from your living space to be productive, it’s a good way to passively socialize and meet people. My favorite spots were the fireside couches in Canova commons on the weekends during brunch, The Poets Corner or the Pidcock room in the library, and the lounge in Hartzel Hall (make friends with the humanities department, they’re some of the coolest people. And very close with the theatre department 😉)

3) the best places to view snowfall are canova commons and the pidcock room. Walls of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the beautiful arboretum or park as it covers in snow? Can’t be beat.

4) at the end of semester, please go to Frolic and Midnight Breakfast. It’s so fun. You deserve it before finals start. Convince your friends to submit a skit. Beg your favorite faculty members to host. Thank Buskin Society and Student Activities Board for putting it together because as former President and treasurer of buskin society for three years, these students work their asses off on top of prepping for finals to put together a silly night of fun for the whole campus to attend for free. Did I mention there’s thousands of dollars worth of raffle prizes? And food? And it’s all free for students all you have to do is show up?

5) if you ever find yourself in Blaney Hall at night, mind the ghosts (and apologize to Dr. Curtis if you’re up to mischief. He won’t be mad—it’ll remind him of his daughter Betsy and her friends). Most of campus is slightly haunted. If you become friends with the campus police (they’re literally just always around everywhere and campus isn’t that big, you’ll get to know them by name pretty quickly), you might be able to convince one of them to let you into the attic of Hartzel Hall at night. Don’t be alarmed if something touches your hand while up there. They raised orphans there for home ec class in the 20s when it was Hillside House.

6) check out the alumnae museum whenever there’s a new exhibit! It’s in Curtis Hall, not Alumnae Hall. Take your friends and family there when they come to visit you. The college is over 150 years old, it’s got some fascinating stuff.

7) the absolute only diner you ever need to go to, for celebration or consolation or boredom or hangover, is the Hamilton Family Diner. The Ham Fam. The Hamily Family.

8) signups for SAB road trips are ruthless so if you really want to go, pay attention to when sign ups start because they fill up in minutes.

I hope you have such a great time, I really found my people there!

#cedar crest college #women’s college

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its-ya-boi-autumn · 4 years

Note

hello. May I have a crumb of soft Chrollo? Whenever you feel inspired, whenever your queue is a bit clear. Thank you for running this blog.

Thank you for being respectful like this, it’s greatly appreciated 😅 I apologize for taking so long to get to your request. I was a little stumped but I tried to make this cute. Also, you’re welcome, I love writing and I appreciate you guys giving me things to write about :)

Finding you awake this early in the morning was a surprise for him. Chrollo watched you from afar, making something on the stove. You had actually managed to wake up earlier than him and find the motivation to make something for yourself. How nice. A small smile tugged at his lips as he quietly trodden forward. The new feeling of arms around your waist startled you, causing you to jump and turn around.

“Oh! Morning, sorry, I didn’t think about making you one. Do you want one?” you asked, turning and pointing toward the burnt grilled cheese on the pan. Chrollo didn’t make any faces to indicate how unappetizing the burnt bread and melted cheese looked, especially as a breakfast meal. Instead, he smiled and shook his head.

“No thank you love, I appreciate the offer though.” he replied. Chrollo let go of you to lean back against the island counter and watch you. You finished up your food and plated it for yourself before turning the stove off to enjoy. Chrollo still didn’t quite understand how you could enjoy such a destroyed meal but nonetheless the little quirk made him feel a bit fuzzy inside. You loved food and he found it charming.

Chrollo followed you closely as you made way for the small couch in the living area you shared. You sat down and curled up with a blanket against the arm of the couch. Chrollo sat down next to you to observe your strange mannerisms. You took a bite of the burnt sandwich.

“What?” you asked with a mouth full of bread. Chrollo shook his head, chuckling to himself.

“Nothing, just curious about how you can enjoy that.” he sat back, leaning his head on the back of the couch. You suddenly felt defensive, sitting up and setting your plate down onto the long glass coffee table in front of you.

“So what if it’s burnt! I made it and I like it so what?” you teased, trying to avoid smiling so your little act would come off more effectively. Chrollo tittered.

“I should teach you how to cook more. Then you’d be able to eat better. I worry about your health sometimes.” Chrollo continued, letting his body fall forward and tilting his head while looking on at you. The grey of his eyes shined with amusement.

“Well, you’re not the one eating it, so don’t worry about it! I know what I’m doing.” you laughed, taking another bite and pulling out your phone to check some social media. Chrollo shook his head once more, scooting closer to you and watching what you were doing. His head rested on your shoulder and his arms cradled you closer to him. Despite your little act earlier, you let him hold you close and watched you scroll through your feed.

Nothing special was going on since everyone had to stay inside. The virus going around had been taking a toll on you recently. Thankfully, you had Chrollo living with you to help you stray from the dip of depression that threatened your mental health. Every post was simply complaints about having to stay in or just about how bored everyone was. You yourself was someone who enjoyed the indoors more than the out, yet being forced to remain in had begun to make you feel caged and alone more than ever, even with Chrollo here.

“Do we have any plans today?” Chrollo joked, coming off of you to cook his own breakfast. You shook your head in response.

“No, nothing. I don’t think this lockdown is going to come off anytime soon…”

“Well, the governor said within the next few weeks if everyone stays in.”

“They’re not going to…” you replied sadly, setting your phone down and curling back up into the blankets. Another crunch from your burnt grilled cheese. Chrollo felt a pang of pity stab him in the chest. He didn’t know what to do for you. The two of you had watched every movie on the platform you could afford and every movie you owned in the house, he’d tried to take you out wherever he thought there wouldn’t be too many people around, and he’d even tried to engage you in new hobbies with him. Most of the time, you were happy during these times, though when they ended you were back to being upset and down. He wished this lockdown would just lift so you’d be happier. Then, he got an idea. The outcome might be the same as every other time, though it was still worth a try. Just to see you smile, even if it was only for a few minutes.

“Go upstairs really quick.” he gave you light command, not turning to face you. Your face quirked quizzically.

“What?” you sat up, taking the blanket off and standing. Chrollo hid his smile from you.

“Go upstairs.” the chuckle was strained but he managed to stifle it. Confused, you did as you were told. You strolled lazily to your bedroom and sat down on the bed in wait. Your phone wasn’t even that entertaining anymore, nonetheless you began to scroll through Instagram anyway.

Downstairs, Chrollo made his food but told himself it could wait. He quietly picked up a pillow from the couch and silently padded up the stairs. Completely unaware of his presence, you continued to swipe through your news feed. Nobody was online right now and your heart sank a little. You were hoping to text-

You were hit with something fluffy, your phone being knocked onto the other side of the bed. You glanced up to see a smirking Chrollo in the doorway, his hand covering his mouth. You let your jaw drop.

“Are you really trying to start a fight with me right now?” you laughed, picking up your pillow and chucking it in his direction. He dodged easily, grabbing it up again to throw it back at you.

“Maybe so~” he teased, hurriedly running towards you and jumping onto the bed. Your phone now forgotten, you stood up on the mattress, picking up the pillow he had just thrown at you and hitting him with it. You didn’t have to fear hurting him due to the soft plush, so you went all out on your pillow fight. Chrollo was a bit more gentle, knowing his strength far exceeded a soft pillow.

The two of you continued to play together, trying to have some sort of fun in the mess that was quarantine. You actually found yourself enjoying the playtime. Chrollo was usually more of a relaxed persona, never letting himself falter in his cool demeanor. The few times he’d tease you or play with you were rare, but never disappointing. He knew exactly how to fix any problem and you envied that. Even if you’d just go back to being upset about having to stay in, the fact that he tried was enough. The fact that he cared about you enough to put in the effort to make you happier and make you feel better was enough.

Chrollo smacked you down onto your back on the bed, throwing his pillow to the side and falling down on top of you. You cushioned his fall by shielding yourself with the pillow in your hands. Once he was down, you disposed of it to embrace him while he loomed over you.

“Feel a little better?” he asked, his voice muffled by your neck. You hummed in agreement, wrapping your legs around his waist to flip him so you were on top. Chrollo let you have your way, staring up at you lovingly.

“Maybe later I can get you some lunch. We’ll see if anything is open for the time being. For now I have to eat breakfast though, I imagine it’s getting cold down in the kitchen.” he explained, grabbing your waist and pulling you away from him. He set you down gently onto the sheets before getting up and walking to the doorway.

“Come back up and we’ll watch something. I heard Netflix has a new movie out right now and it’s horror! I wanna see it.” you bounced on the bed. Chrollo smiled. Your attitude had changed and his plan had worked.

“Of course, I’ll try to hurry.”

(//I’m sorry for this being so short, I honestly got kind of stuck while doing it. Honestly, I’ll probably read back on it later and think of a hundred way I could have made it better. Nonetheless, I hope you like it ;)//)

#chrollo lucilfer #chrollo #hxh #Hunter X Hunter #cute #fluff #pillow fight #quarantine #request

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millennialfangirl · 4 years

Text

Wherever You Will Go (Ch. 2)

Fandom: Agents of Shield Pairing: Daisy x Daniel Rating: Teen and up Word Count: 2440 Summary: The team spends a week relaxing. Daisy and Daniel get closer before they have the rug pulled out from under them. Author’s Note: Who else is surprised I've already got the second chapter ready? Just me? I might even have the third chapter up sometime tomorrow before the finale!!!Well here you go, lovely readers. I hope you enjoy! Comments are treasured!

Read Ch. 1

Chapter 2:

Over the next couple of days the team settles into a routine. Most mornings, Coulson has breakfast prepared for those who aren’t sleeping in, which is basically everyone except Deke. They watch movies and tv reruns from the stored collection they have, and they sit around answering Sousa’s questions about the 21st century. They take turns making meals, and May leads a few of them in Thai Chi lessons.

And every night, Daniel finds himself back in Daisy’s bunk, and every morning they wake up wrapped in each other’s arms. They haven’t done anything more than sleep next to each other, content for now with enjoying the safety and intimacy of the bubble they’ve created.

The decision to try and not take the next physical step comes to Daniel while sitting around with the guys drinking some gross beer called Zima. It’s their third night of floating through the temporal zone, and the girls are in another part of the Zephyr doing girly things, or so he was told by Deke. Mack and Coulson bring out a deck of cards, and they all sit down to an impromptu game of poker. At least this is one thing Daniel doesn’t have to be shown how to do.

“And there are hundreds of women and men, ready to swipe left or right on,” Deke explains enthusiastically.

“That sounds...overwhelming...and depressing,” Daniel comments. “Like it’s too easy.”

Coulson and Mack discreetly fist bump under the table.

“Well, when you come from a future where there’s the same thirty people to choose from for all of eternity, it’s easy to fall for the next new person.”

“I suppose that would make this online dating thing seem ideal,” Daniel responds.

“Yea, but is it really the same as meeting organically? Jemma and I were best friends for years before, you know...and now look at us. We’re stronger than ever,” Fitz adds.

“C’mon Bobo, you and nana are totally relationship goals, but you’re one in a million,” Deke says before dramatically folding. “The rest of us aren’t that lucky.”

Daniel thinks about the infinite ways his life could have gone, and acknowledges the rarity of the situation he’s in with Daisy. He leans forward and carefully pushes all of his chips into the center of the table.

“I’m all in.”

***

On the fourth day when Daniel wakes up, he wakes up alone. He throws on some clothes, and carefully makes his way through the ship in search of Daisy. He’s light on his feet in an effort not to wake anyone. Eventually he finds Daisy sitting in the cockpit next to Coulson, both of them staring out into the bright colors flashing beyond. He pauses as he hears their conversation.

“I just want to make him feel at home, and I figured you’d be the best person to ask, what, with your love of history and all,” he hears Daisy say.

“That’s a very sweet idea. I’m sure he’ll really appreciate it,” Coulson replies. “I think I have something in mind. How about after breakfast I go over the recipe with you?”

Daniel’s heart melts and he backs away from the bridge of the ship. Hopefully they don’t hear him on his way back to Daisy’s bunk. He settles back into the still warm bed, and when Daisy reappears ten minutes later, he pretends to wake up. He doesn’t spoil her surprise, and when she makes a lame excuse to leave his side after breakfast, he easily goes along with it.

That night Daisy leads him into the dining area with his eyes covered. He can smell something has been cooked, but he can’t quite place it.

“Surprise!” she yells as she lets her hands fall.

He opens his eyes to see a large dish of meatloaf and sides sitting in the middle of the table on display. The team is gathered around the table, all with varying degrees of concern on their faces.

“I thought I would cook something you’re used to from your time,” Daisy explains even though he already knows.

He acts surprised and squeezes her into a big hug before sitting down in front of the meal. They all dish out their servings, and one by one, Daniel watches all of them try to hide their initial reactions to the meatloaf. He mentally prepares himself as he takes his first bite, conscious of the fact that Daisy is watching his every move. He likes to think he does his best undercover work yet.

He enthusiastically gulps down the overly dry and salty concoction, and then lies through his teeth.

“It’s delicious! Just like home,” he tells her. He watches her clap her hands in excitement, and he thinks his parched mouth is worth it in the end to see her so happy.

He carefully stares at every other member of the team in warning, and they all start to sing their praises as they hastily dig into their meals.

Despite how awful it tastes, it’s still his favorite dinner to date.

***

“You mean to tell me that Daisy isn’t a part of this group of superheroes?” Daniel asks, befuddled one night.

Daisy laughs and snorts in derision. They’re passing around snacks, gathered in the common area with a large screen t.v.

“I’m not exactly Avenger-material. I was kind of a vigilante for a while there,” Daisy says with self deprecation.

“Honestly,” Fitz starts, “she’s been too busy saving the world on her own,” he comments.

“Oh, that’s sweet Fitz, and very true,” Jemma adds.

“Okay, first, that’s a major overstatement. I have not been doing anything on my own. I’ve had your help at every turn, and sometimes I’m the reason the world needs saving, so no, I’m not supposed to be an Avenger,” Daisy finishes.

Everyone except Daisy passes knowing glances back and forth, but decides to drop the subject.

“So Jemma, do you have any more pictures of Thor?” Yo-yo asks with a grin.

The men groan and the girls huddle around Jemma’s phone.

***

Daisy is sitting alone in her bunk on their sixth night in the Zephyr. While she has enjoyed, coveted even, her time with the team and Daniel, she can feel restlessness brewing in her gut. Her body is no longer aching and her mind is already planning all the things they need to take care of as a team when they return to the present time. She’s looking forward to going home, and focusing on her family, and herself.

That starts tonight. While Daniel has been off with Mack, Yo-yo, and May training and exercising his new prosthetic, Daisy has enjoyed some quiet moments of pampering. She has re-highlighted her hair blonde, and has chosen to add back her purple streaks. She thinks it’s the perfection combination of the edgy side of herself she has had to embrace over the years, and the young, hopeful girl she’s always been underneath. It absolutely has nothing to do with Daniel’s preferences.

She’s parting her hair in it’s signature look when someone knocks on her bunk door. She answers it and is surprised to see Daniel standing there in a suit holding a bouquet of paper flowers. His face is just this side of sheepish as he holds them out for her to take. Then he notices her hair and his smile goes wide.

“What are you doing?” she can’t help but ask.

“I would like to formally ask you to dinner, just the two of us.”

Daniel’s face is full of hope and anticipation, so she doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“I would love to,” she says, pausing to take the bouquet. “I’m assuming you weren’t really training this whole time.”

“That’s need to know,” he says smugly, and she can’t help but laugh out loud.

Thirty minutes later she meets him in the dining area, wearing a hastily put together outfit, including the yellow shirt she had from the 50’s, and a pencil skirt she borrowed from Jemma. She’s nervous, because when she starts to really think about it, this may be the first real date she’s ever been on. She’s always fallen into relationships rather impulsively, and this feels more like a conscious decision. For the first time, she really wants to actively make this work, and for the first time, she feels like she’s with someone who’s willing to put in the effort.

He’s pinned to the spot when he sees her walk in, and there’s a softness in his eyes as he looks her up and down. Then he walks up to her and takes her hands while leaning over to kiss her cheek. It sends goosebumps all the way down to her toes.

From there, he leads her over to a chair he pulls out for her, and slides her seat in. In a moment he is pouring her a glass of red wine, which she didn’t even know they had, and she’s looking down at a delicious, juicy looking burger. She has been dying for a hamburger, and she eyes him suspiciously, wondering how he knew. He smiles back at her mischievously.

The dinner is perfect, and so is the company. Towards the end of the meal, Daniel puts on some soft music, and they spend the rest of the night dancing close. When they kiss at her bunk door, it’s the most passionate to date. Her back hits the door as their hands explore and their lips nibble. He seeks out her neck, and she holds him in place, her fingers mussing up his hair.

Without looking, she slides her door open, and starts backing them into her room. He stops abruptly, pulling away from her as he catches his breath. His face is flushed from the wine, or their kissing...or maybe both.

“I think, maybe, I should sleep in my bunk,” he says regretfully.

“Are you sure?” she asks, slightly disappointed.

“Yea, I don’t think there’s an ounce of me that I could control tonight,” he says with a dopey, longing expression.

So he kisses her goodnight, and leaves her standing at her door with a dreamy look on her face. And for the first time they sleep in different beds, and she’s okay with that, because she really wants this to work.

***

On the seventh night, their bubble of happiness pops as they sit gathered together and listen to what Coulson learned in the time stream.

Some of them will be going back to 2019, instead of 2020, to be turned to dust by an egomaniacal tyrant, while others will be going to different periods in time.

When Coulson is done explaining everything, the room is silent before abruptly breaking out into discussions and arguments.

“Why can’t we all just jump to 2024?” Yo-yo asks.

“It’s not that simple,” Coulson starts. “From what I can understand, the only reason some of us weren’t snapped back in 2019 is because of another time loop. Some of us have to go back to that point in time to be snapped, so that the other past version of ourselves can stay there and take care of Izel, and find Fitz.”

“So you’re saying that if we go to 2020, instead of 2019, our past selves will be turned to dust, and Izel will succeed in taking over the Earth?” Mack asks for clarification.

“I’ve talked it over with Fitz, and we think it’s because the stones will always choose to snap the oldest version of ourselves,” Coulson explains.

“And Daisy has to be there, where the battle will take place, so that she can help fight this Thanos guy?” Daniel asks with concern.

Daisy chooses that moment to stand up abruptly, and leave the room. Daniel moves to follow her, but May has him hold off. “Not this time,” she tells him, before going to follow Daisy herself.

Daniel looks around the room brokenhearted.

“In every timeline I really cease to exist if I’m there for the snap? I won’t come back with everybody else in 2024?” he asks.

“In every timeline,” Coulson answers regretfully.

Coulson looks pensive for a minute, a fraction of doubt on his face, and Daniel jumps on it.

“What is it?” he asks.

“There’s a very, very small cha--” he starts, but Daniel cuts him off.

“I’ll do it, whatever it is, no matter how small of a chance,” he declares with determination.

“Let’s go over a plan,” Coulson responds with a knowing smile.

***

An hour later, Daniel is standing outside of Daisy’s door. Coulson lectured him at length about all of the unknown variables at play, how one move could completely change the course. They’re not only relying on themselves, but others to play their part. When Coulson and Daisy return to 2019, they can’t warn a single soul. They can’t guide the Avengers in any way. They have to let things run their course, or they could be responsible for Thanos winning in the long run, and Daniel will never see the 21st century.

With the weight of everything he knows on his shoulders, he knocks softly on her door.

“Come in,” he can hear muffled through the door.

He steps in and closes the door behind him. She stands up from where she had been sitting on the floor against her bed, and he can see the balled up tissues littered on the floor. Her eyes shine with more unshed tears, and something inside him snaps. They deserve one moment of happiness.

He steps into her space and kisses her hard, and his hands connect with her body, pulling her as close to him as possible. He gently backs her up, and they fall onto the bed. He glides his hands up and down her sides as he moves his lips from her mouth to her neck. He starts to pull up her shirt, but stops.

“Is this okay,” he asks, and she answers by lifting the shirt the rest of the way off and over her head.

She leans back into place with her hand gripping the front of his shirt. There are dried tear tracks on her face, and a quiet desperation in her eyes.

“I need you,” she says, and it sounds a lot more like she needs him not to disappear from her life forever, but for now, he’ll give her everything he has.

“I’ve got you,” he says as he leans down to kiss her once again.

Their last night on the Zephyr, they go to bed together, like so many times before, but this time, they don’t sleep.

****

Thanks for reading!!!

#dousy #daisy x daniel #daisy johnson #daniel sousa #aos #agents of shield #my fic #daisysous #daisy x sousa #dousy fic #aos fic

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itsblissfuloblivion · 4 years

Text

metanoia

A/N: surprise holiday gift from @gryffindormischief & @fightfortherightsofhouseelves. Hinny Muggle Modern AU for your reading pleasure :)

FF and Ao3

_____

Honestly, if Sirius wasn’t the estate lawyer for Mrs. Figg, Harry probably never would’ve known about the shop. About his shop.

Because Mrs. Figg loved two things - cats and pizza. And apparently thought Harry should too.

It just so happens Harry’s most recent assignment has wrapped up - with a significant number of deranged menaces to society locked away. Though not enough. Harry has been victim to the knowledge of just how horrible a human can be since he could barely spell his full name.

And now, just about thirty years later, he’s bagged his fair share of serial killers - including the one that started it all. At least for him. He’s studied, tracked, and caught them with an endless supply of motivation. Motivation that Sirius has on more than one occasion called an ‘obsession’ or ‘avoidance.’

Harry likes to think of it as a positive outcome from a highly traumatic childhood. And saying it that way makes him sound like a well adjusted adult so he sticks with it.

Though in the privacy of his own mind, it sounds less and less true with each passing day.

Which is probably why the shop feels like a set up. A glass half full type might say kismet or destiny, but again, childhood trauma and possible suppression of feelings.

Sirius sighs. “You were rabbit trailing.”

Harry grunts. “Was not.”

“Tell me what I just said.”

“Pizza shop.”

“You are a terrible godson.”

“No family discount for you,” Harry says with a grin, swirling his coffee.

Rolling his eyes, Sirius resumes his explanation. “Arabella loved you in her own strange way and this is her even stranger way of showing it.”

“But - why ? I said I liked her pizza. But she literally has a photo wall of her herd of cats - do I look like someone who wants to stare at that all day?”

Sirius fiddles with his empty Splenda packet, tearing it to bits and sighing a little. And when he does speak it’s not really an answer. “They would want you to be happy.”

Harry blinks.

“Your parents.”

“I gathered.”

A herd of teenagers bustle into the coffee shop, bringing an icy wind and puddling rain with them. Harry really hasn’t missed London’s general greyness. Psychotic murdering crime syndicate aside, Majorca was warm and sunny .

“I’m good at it, Sirius,” Harry says after a moment, “Protecting people, catching killers, don’t I owe it to them, to everyone, to keep going?”

“Don’t let that arsehole steal your whole life - you got justice,” Sirius frowns, “However much you could, that is. You don’t owe anyone, any of us.”

Harry’s quiet a moment. “Well I guess we should go take a look at my new shop.”

The first red flag really should’ve gone up when Sirius told Harry the walkthrough could wait. When he coaxed Harry into taking a post-travel nap . Then he makes his chicken alfredo pasta bake for supper and pours him a large glass of chardonnay, which was when Harry began to feel suspicious. But, just as Sirius wanted, Harry’s too pliant with rich food and heady wine to question it and ends up falling asleep without even realizing.

Yet, when he wakes, he is in pajamas and tucked in bed, mouth a bit stale. Apparently Sirius draws the line in his babying at toothbrushing. It’s just after one in the afternoon and Harry would bet fifty quid Sirius is currently the person buzzing his mobile off the bedside table.

Harry swipes his thumb across the screen and presses the phone to his face.

“Wake up lazy bones.”

“You’re the one who plied me with wine and pasta.”

Sirius’ laugh is a huff. “You’re such a lightweight.”

Harry flops back on the bed and sighs. “Ever hear of jet lag?”

“Nobody likes a whiner.”

There’s some grumbling on Harry’s end and some grouchy barking on Sirius’ end and after what Harry will fully own as whining, he agrees to a greasy breakfast and a tour of his new acquisition right off.

Halfway through his third slice of bacon - deliciously crispy and oily - Harry glances at a mysteriously quiet Sirius. “So what is it?”

“What is what?”

“The catch, the surprise, the thing you’re going to ruin my breakfast with,” Harry answers around the rim of his coffee cup.

“Breakfast? It’s well past two. Don’t know how things are on the continent but - ”

“Breakfast is the first meal of the day,” Harry asserts, “Now answer.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Eat your breakfast .”

Knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, Harry lets the issue drop with a lingering look. Or at least on the surface. Internally, he’s still in full Inspector Mode and highly suspicious of every glance Sirius gives him and every word he says.

But odd as his godfather’s behavior is, it’s not particularly helpful in any information gathering sense. Which isn’t to say it’s not a nice meal. Clinical as Harry may paint himself at times, workaholic though he can be, he loves his godfather and getting caught up doesn’t take twisting his arm.

So yes, he drops the issue for a time, but by the time they’re walking down to Arabella’s, Harry can’t resist any longer. “Don’t you think you should give me fair warning for whatever I’m about to encounter?”

“Since when do I do things like give fair warnings?”

Sirius pushes the door open, overhead bell ringing their entry, and shepherds Harry inside.

Distracted as he is by the display of gallantry, Harry takes a moment to zero in on the figure behind the counter. And when he does, everything clicks together.

His voice is a low hiss, “What the hell, Sirius?”

“Didn’t I mention?”

“You have problems,” Harry grumbles, low enough that hopefully their conversation remains private , “I officially fire you as my godfather.”

Sirius straightens his Santa-themed scarf, jauntily tossed over his shoulder and a bit at odds with the punk vibe of his leather jacket. All of which is at odds with his profession but that’s an issue for another time. A time when Harry’s not less than four paces away from his not-so-secret celebrity crush. Ginny Weasley, star striker for the Holyhead Harpies.

A crush that is complicated all the more by the fact that she’s also his best mate’s sister whom he has not seen since they were almost something. Back when he was a dumb teenager with an axe to grind and entirely too much angst for his awkward green bean-esque body.

“You can’t fire me. It’s outside the scope of your authority.”

“I’ll - ”

Harry loses whatever he was about to say to the ether, well that and Ginny’s eyes as her attention shifts from her final customer to the new entrants. Her patented customer service smile slips into place and she’s halfway through her welcome when her eyes light in recognition. “Harry! Sirius. I wish you’d warned me.”

Ruffling his hair, Harry manages to steel himself and wander closer. “Sirius doesn’t do warnings.”

Ginny nudges the register closed and passes the customer the receipt once it’s printed. “Yeah, I guess that checks out. So we’re business partners now, yeah?”

Harry leans against the counter, taking in the half-full shop, Arabella’s catered shrine to her cats. Which reminds him. “What about the cats? We’re not - ”

Grinning, Ginny tilts her head toward the empty barstools and pours a few sodas. “That was my first question. We are not feline parents.”

Sirius nods. “Arabella had a lady in her quilting group - she’s a cat lover. Took the lot.”

“How will all this fit in - aren’t you busy?” Harry asks, turning his attention to Ginny.

She shrugs. “Somebody’s #1 fan status is in danger, I am officially retired.”

“Shite I - injury?”

“Nah, just felt like time. I’m not getting any younger - in sports years - and I’d rather go out on top than limping if I can help it,” Ginny explains, “On top and in love. The magic was still there but I could feel it fading.”

“Time for a new dream, eh?” Sirius puts in.

“Someone’s been watching too much telly with Teddy,” Harry teases and glances sidelong at Ginny, whose cheeks are a bit flushed, “My godson is quite the fan of Rapunzel.”

Ginny chuckles. “I learned that on very long afternoon of babysitting Victoire and Ted.”

The conversation peters out and they linger a bit uncomfortably until the chef passes a couple of pizzas through to Ginny. With a spared smile for her companions, she grabs the two pies and heads into the dining area to deliver the orders.

Harry can’t help but watch as she turns on the charm, poses for a selfie with a nervous looking little tween at the table, and heads back their way.

Sirius nudges Harry’s arm. “Nice surprise, eh?”

Things pick up at the shop, so Sirius orders a vegetable laden pizza to go and blusters about something important he’s just got to do and disappears as soon as his pie is ready.

Leaving Harry to feel awkward and out of place, not sure he can leave and even less sure he can stay. The latter more a thing about sanity.

He might not be a huge ‘be open about your feelings’ person but Harry’s at least somewhat self aware. And Ginny Weasley, cheeky and fit as ever, wielding the power vested in her as a co-owner of a pizza shop like a queen with a very doughy throne - well it’s not good for his state of mind.

The last forty-eight hours have been highly confusing and unexpected and Harry really feels he’s handled things with admirable elegance considering the post-assignment haze he generally experiences coupled with the usual jet-lag. Well he’s a bit out of it and that means his already low ability to filter and process emotions is severely impeded.

All of which leads Harry to feel he should be cut some slack for his awkward exit - chosen at a time where he can’t do more than offer Ginny a passing wave and earn narrowed eyes in return.

So when he finds himself off the clock two days later and somehow standing in front of Arabella’s, Harry’s really not sure it’s a good idea. Or even what the idea is.

It’s late, yesterday’s snow already either shuffled to the side by plows or trampled by Londoners tramping through the streets, and Harry’s simultaneously hungry and too terrified to be so.

Because if Ginny Weasley’s angry at eight and a half because he and Ron put snails in her sock drawer was terrifying, Harry can only imagine he’s in for a dangerous evening.

The overhead bell beckons his entry and Ginny’s voice calls from the back, “Just a sec - we’re actually - “ she pauses wiping her hands on her apron as she emerges from the kitchen, “Closed.”

“Is it ever closed for me ?” Harry asks.

Ginny scowls. “Dunno we haven’t really discussed any of this, have we?”

“I-”

“You’re not starting off as a particularly enjoyable business partner.”

“It’s been less than a week, give a bloke a break, yeah?” Harry defends, twisting the lock on the door and claiming a seat at the counter.

Ginny pins him with her stare. “If you’re going to hang about after closing, help me clean up.”

Harry accepts the rag she tosses at his chest and follows her minimal, and gradually less angry, instructions. It’s congenial, and Harry finds himself beginning to relax like he hasn’t - maybe ever. At least not without the aid of some sort of sleep-inducing medication or a couple shots of whiskey in his system.

And somehow, Ginny manages to pull him out of himself, her easy chatter draws him in and somehow he finds himself making it more of a conversation. Hell, he’s having a good time and Harry would want to thank Mrs. Figg if he wasn’t still just a little ticked at being manipulated and at the fact that an octogenarian knew his interests better than he did.

Regardless, he returns most nights, sometimes after a day off, sometimes after a long shift he just wants to forget.

Ginny’s always there delivering a cheeky rejoinder or a prod to his shoulder when he’s ‘not putting in enough elbow grease’ scrubbing the dishes. And sometimes, he begins to hope, her teasing gets just a tinge of flirtatiousness.

After a month, Harry finally asks, “So you’re here alone?”

“ That’s not something a serial murderer would say,” Ginny says with a smirk, refilling another napkin holder.

“No, I mean, for closing.”

Surprisingly, Ginny flushes a bit, her voice only wavering a bit as she begins to speak before strengthening as she squares her jaw, daring him to comment. “Well, that first night, my - our - help called in sick. And then eventually you were so regular I figured why make Francis stay and pay someone when we handled it fine enough.”

“So you’re taking advantage of my free labor.”

“Hardly free partner ,” Ginny teases, filling another holder.

Harry laughs and the shop falls into silence as they go through the motions of closing, now something of a choreographed dance between them.

It’s comfortable and yet Harry feels a weight on him, words running up his throat from somewhere he’s not even really conscious of. Repressing it begins to feel pointless - why wouldn’t he just say it? What’s the harm? Part of him wonders at his trust of Ginny after only a month, but it’s really longer than that, when he thinks about it. And if he spends one more day of his life living in constant apprehension of betrayal, of someone else leaving him or letting him down - maybe Sirius was right.

Bastard.

“Ginny?”

She rises from her crouch behind the counter, ponytail askew and a slash of flour across her cheek, hiding her freckles in a dusting of powder. “Yes?”

“Did you ever - how did you know when to retire?”

Ginny pushes flyaways from her face and disappears into the kitchen, which is really not a particularly fun reaction to receive after finally drumming up courage to ask. But she returns soon enough with a few mismatched slices of pie. “We can eat the mistakes - or the rejects I suppose - and have a chat,” Ginny smiles and gestures to one of the tables without the chairs stacked, “Grab a seat.”

Harry does as she instructs and sighs. It had been a long day, more death, more horror, more of the worst of humanity. If he’s honest, which is something Harry’s really working on, it feels like that’s all his life is. Arabella’s is an escape of sorts. And Ginny is - something else entirely.

“So my retirement? You’re not investigating me for some murder, right?” Ginny asks, pulling a slice from the tray and biting into it with a sigh, “We make good pizza.”

“No, I - I’ve just been thinking,” Harry fiddles with his napkin and finally selects a slice of pizza absently, heedless of the mushrooms he really doesn’t like. Maybe the fidgety nature of pulling them from the pie will calm his nerves. “I’ve been realizing maybe I’m not happy.”

Ginny raises her brows but doesn’t interrupt as he continues, “Before I felt like I had a purpose, a reason to be doing what I was doing. Beyond just being good at it.”

“Even after?”

“Yeah - I felt a pull even after we caught Riddle, like my work wasn’t finished,” Harry answers, thoughtful, “But lately it feels more like a placeholder, like I’m just doing it to do it.”

“You’re unhappy.”

“I mean - it feels odd to say it ever made me happy ,” Harry laughs, dry, “But I was fulfilled in a strange way, had a purpose, you know?”

Ginny shakes some red pepper flakes onto her pizza and considers him for a moment, her eyes softened, before she responds. “My career wasn’t the same as yours, but I think you know when it’s time for a change. Even if you don’t want to see it. Even when it’s scary to see. You invest your life, you devote everything to being the best. It feels mad to leave it all behind.”

“And yet you did.”

She scoots her chair closer and leans her head onto his shoulder, like they’re meant to slot together. “Isn’t it madder to leave things the same and stay unhappy?”

The shop looks different by daylight, Harry notices. Less intimate. And it’s odd too. He’s never been in a shop completely alone during the day. Or really at all, since his nights spent at Arabella’s are never without Ginny except when he takes the rubbish out.

Dull considerations like the oddity of sitting alone are all he has to keep his mind busy, to prevent himself from bouncing around with wild energy or calling and taking everything back.

But he’s not one for backpedalling, especially when he’s spent so much time and energy in moving forward.

And yet, it feels like a part of him is missing. But instead of the fear of a phantom limb, he feels weightless, like he’s thrown away everything holding him back.

Back from what, he’s not really examining too closely, so for now - well it’s -

The door opens with a ring of the bell and Ginny’s low, warbling hums reach him in the dining area. “Alright Gin?”

“Fu- ” Ginny drops her keys and grumbles, “You scared me, arsehole.”

“I tried not to.”

“Sure,” Ginny drawls, “Now what are you doing here? Please don’t tell me someone was murdered in our kitchen.”

Harry laughs and nearly chokes on his tongue when Ginny presses a kiss to his cheek. “Nah, I’m on holiday.”

“And you’re here.”

“I heard this place has the best garlic knots,” Harry says, following Ginny as she moves toward the combination supply closet and back office.

“Surprised you know how to find this place in daylight,” Ginny teases, jabbing her elbow into his side.

“Arabella’s cats are a bit creepier in the full light.”

“Don’t I know it,” Ginny says, wry, “I think Gingersnap’s eyes follow me.”

“Did you ever ask why a black cat was named Gingersnap,” Harry asks as Ginny opens the safe and pulls the register tray free.

“Maybe Arabella was so bad at making ‘em they always burnt.”

Harry laughs and in the privacy of his mind admits he follows Ginny around like a lost puppy as she preps for the day. So he’s pretty close behind when she turns and tosses a pinny in his face. “If you’re going to hang about at least pull your weight.”

“Where’s Franny?”

“Don’t bring her into this.”

“I just worry after the wellbeing of those in my employ.”

Ginny scoffs. “She’s on holiday from uni, went home to Kent.”

“Just in time to miss London’s lovely Grey Christmas,” Harry laughs, wrapping the apron strings around his middle and glancing out at the looming clouds overhead, the puddle riddled streets.

“Posh boy used to wintering in exotic locales, can’t handle a good ol’ fashioned London winter,” Ginny teases, “Keep your complaining inside and pitch in, put that fit body to good use.”

Shoving Ginny’s shoulder, Harry disappears into the kitchen and begins checking the prepped dough and running down Ginny’s list of morning tasks.

He’s just finished warming up the espresso machine when Ginny returns from her paperwork in the back room. Their gazes lock for a moment and Harry feels like he’s been caught out at something, not that he was even doing anything. Except perhaps daydreaming a bit about Ginny returning his sad secret feelings and ending their usual teasing banter with snogs instead of flicks to the nose.

But it seems Ginny is not clairvoyant, or at least not owning it quite yet when she says, “S’nice having you around. I actually get paperwork done before eleven at night.”

“Well,” Harry takes a deep breath and ruffles his hair, “Get used to it.”

“Get used to - ” Ginny narrows her eyes and steps closer, “Why?”

“I had a lot of vacation time saved up,” Harry begins, focusing acutely on the grinder, “And I wrapped that case - the human trafficking one,” Ginny nods her understanding and Harry continues, “And so I called in my days and uh. I gave notice.”

She gapes. “You - ”

He puffs out his chest, feeling accomplished at rendering Ginny nearly speechless, “Done. I’m out. That was my last one. Just a few exit interviews after the New Year and then, adios.”

Ginny considers him for a moment, unreadable as she almost seems to reach for him, and then shakes her head. “You’re such a stalker.”

“Excuse me?” Harry yelps with a grin, pressing his palm to his chest.

“Everyone knows you were a Ginny Weasley super fan,” Ginny raises one finger, “And that you had a thing for me back before uni,” Harry flushes as she plows ahead, “Add in the fact that your godfather orchestrated this little ‘surprise’ partnership,” she shakes her head, “You’ve probably been collecting my hair for a doll at your flat.”

“Excuse me, it’s a puppet.”

“How’s my godson slash entrepreneur?” Sirius barks as he pushes the front door open with his hips.

“Working like a dog, paying for any sins I may have ever committed,” Harry growls, hands elbow deep into dough.

Sirius scans him head to toe with an ever-growing smirk, “You’re welcome.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot high up into his hairline, fists already constricting around the piece of dough he’d been working on. If there’s ever anyone’s fault for what he’s been feeling over the past weeks, the tension and frustration battling in his chest, in his mind, ready to explode in his face the next time she smiles or says something cheeky or simply exists in his presence.

“Don’t start making faces,” Sirius points a finger at him as Harry’s on the verge of snapping back, “I know you when you’re happy. I changed your nappies, don’t you forget that you ungrateful godson of mine.”

And to that Harry doesn’t have much to say. Sirius is right, as much as Harry’d like to deny it.

“So you quit,” Sirius plows on after a pause.

Harry takes a moment then shrugs, “Yeah, it was time, I guess.”

“Good for you. And now - how are things?”

“What do you mean?”

Sirius quickly looks at Ginny absorbed by paperwork and winks, grin, and ultimately nudges Harry.

Harry’d like to send dough spiralling at his godfather’s head.

He’d like that very much indeed.

“There’s nothing there, Sirius,” he mutters.

“Aha,” Sirius snorts. “Then tell me this: if you’re not fueled by sexual frustration right now then why are you groping and playing with that roll of dough like it’s something else?”

Harry feels himself go scarlett, blood boiling in his ears.

“Out. Now.”

“Don’t I get a pizza for my efforts?” Sirius grins.

“Out before I kick you,” Harry barks, wipes his hands on a piece of cloth, ready to take his godfather by the collar before he mocks him even further.

No one pushes his buttons quite like family.

“What about my family discount?”

There’s a freshly baked pizza sliding down the front door as Sirius leaves in a fit of pleased laughter, Harry fuming on the other side of the shop.

“Should I ask?” Ginny raises her head from around the stack of papers, eyebrows raised, pen in her mouth.

“No,” Harry says, clipped, and marches back to his station.

Naturally, they thought hanging a Buy one, get one free sign on their door would be splendid for their business and any small business owner’s drive to build a faithful community around their shop.

It proves, however, that as great this move is for their business, it is also horrid for their poor wrists, as they hurt after rolling pizza after pizza, for their cheeks (Harry fears that fake smiling 24/7 might give him a paresis), and, if everyone’s being fair, for their mental health and general libido levels. It should be noted that tension, as well as flour, can be cut with a knife.

“Think we should hire help?” Harry asks after the upteenth time he coughs on flour.

A relieved sigh, “Thought you’d never ask. We definitely need one of those people that can naturally smile non-stop, know what I mean? Because if I have to grin like a loon for one more customer, I’m officially out.”

Harry scans her closely and pouts a little.

“Would you really?”

“Would I what?”

“You know, leave me?”

She doesn’t spare him a glance, fully concentrated on adding extra cheesy on an already cheesy pizza.

“Are we together now, Potter?”

“Let’s not hide behind those floury fingers, Weasley, I saw you checking out my arse,” Harry huffs, watching her curiously out of the corner of his eye.

Ginny laughs wholeheartedly for a beat, cheese and pizza forgotten.

“Harry, Harry, if that’s how easy it is for a girl to get you, then you must’ve had a million relationships because that bum is super tight.”

Harry feels himself blush, chest warming on the inside.

“So’s - erm, so’s yours.”

“Well, if we’re doing this,” Ginny grins cheekily, “so are your eyes.”

It’s Harry’s turn to grin, he’s very pleased.

“My eyes are tight?”

“Don’t be a prick. Your eyes are pretty,” she sticks out her tongue at him, resuming her pizza making.

A pause, tense and vibrant.

“So is your hair. And your freckles. And the way you look when you’ve got your mind set on something,” Harry mumbles at first but manages to finish in a more confident note, eyeing her from behind his round specs.

Ginny takes a moment for herself, rubs her nose then turns around to look at Harry with the very look he mentioned. That hard, blazing look that starts a fire within him and sends his thoughts twisting and turning into dangerous places.

“Your messy hair, your little smirk when you’re pleased with yourself. You.”

Harry’s completely forgotten about customers trundling in, orders upon orders to be delivered or anything else for that matter. All he has the wit to say is a feeble “oh.”

A wall of tension thickens and threatens to crush them, each staring at the other, each holding their position, feet firmly on the ground, cheeks flushed and hearts beating wildly.

“It’s hot in here,” Ginny remarks, dry.

“Yeah. I know.”

“So bloody hot,” she speaks again, still yet daring.

Harry can hear himself breathe hard, “The - uh, ovens.”

A minute passes and, as it drags its heavy legs to the finish line, Harry hears rather than sees Ginny laugh a bit to herself, throw away the piece of cloth she used to clean her hands and stride over to him.

“Yeah, I can’t handle it. Thought I could, but I can’t,” Ginny sighs and informs the room at large.

“So why are you unbuttoning my shirt?” Harry manages to underline before his brain explodes at the touch of her smooth fingers over the skin of his chest.

“Helping?”

She’s undeterred as she speaks, rather absently while her fingers work every button, one after the other until his shirt lays open and their gazes lock.

Harry barks a laugh, “Try again?”

“You’ve got a spot,” Ginny shrugs, fingers mapping the length of his chest.

Harry closes his eyes, draws in a breath. He lets it out in a shudder.

“So’ve you.”

There’s barely a second between his words and the moment Ginny’s legs lock around him, his hands supporting her on the table top, they’re mouths kissing hard and fast. Kissing, licking, grazing, biting in a tangle of hair and flour and pizza everywhere.

Harry’d like to say something clever and sassy but he’d like to keep kissing Ginny even more. And more. And more until her tongue is in his mouth and her palms moving in circles on his bare chest and his fingers knotted in her ginger hair.

He feels they’re melting into each other, limbs glued together like mold, fire blazing, scorching.

It’s more than any of them can take.

“Move this elsewhere?” Ginny gasps between kisses.

“Do we really have to?” Harry breathes, pants.

“Unless you wanna risk a citation from the Health Department,” she giggles into his ears, giggles that turn into full on laughter when he lifts her in the air, carries her into the pantry, locks the door.

Laughter that turns into moaning when their lips meet again behind closed doors.

#itsblissfuloblivion writes #hinny au fic #hinny au #hinny fic #hinny #harry X ginny #harry potter x ginny weasley #christmas au #muggle au #modern au #sirius black

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arianakristine · 4 years

Note

I've been rereading some RH chapters and I just finished Storm. I can't remember if you've written the actual "moving in" conversation. If not, is it something you'd consider writing?

Title: Sunday Morning BreakfastSummary: Getting Graham used to the routine.Note: RH verse. I think other people have requested this, too, (including you all the way back at Storm!) and I am finally getting around to it :) It;s short, but I am getting the muse back in shape.

Grahamclicked across the screen, scrolling through the report. The words were dry andplaced, the investigating officer writing almost as if using canned responsesto each piece of evidence. He growled at the back of his throat, irritated atthe lack of effort that was put into it the first time around.

She’djust been a kid. Just a little older than Henry.

Heglanced up over the hood of his laptop. Henry was on the couch across from him,feet curled up underneath and game controller in hand. His hair was messy, andhe was still in his band t-shirt and pajamas, brow furrowed in concentration.

Grahamhesitated, rolling the cursor over the words again before glancing up. “Ipromise I’m almost done.”

Henryhit the pause and gave a half smile. “No rush.” He sat up a bit and eyed him.“What kinda case is it?”

Grahamrubbed the back of his neck and considered his answer. “About fifteen yearsold. A girl went missing near Julliard and was found near 101st.”

Henry’sface dimmed a bit before he nodded knowingly. “Oh, so an old homicide?”

Henodded with a grimace. “And the first guy really didn’t know what he waslooking for,” he grumbled. He sighed heavily and clicked from the initialreport to the witness list.

“Isthat why you got called in yesterday? Even though there was the storm?” heasked.

“Exactlywhy,” he said and ran his hand through his hair. He blew out a low breath. “Lazothought she caught something in the photos and wanted back up for interviews.But it ended up being a dead end. Now I need to comb through it again and seeif I can come up with a few new theories before Monday’s meeting.”

Henryperked up. “Can I help?”

Hewinced, already feeling like he would be in trouble with Emma for saying asmuch as he did. “Let’s ask your mom when she gets back.”

Heslumped against the back of the couch and flicked his game back to active. Hedidn’t even glance up as he responded, “she wanted to ask you something, so I’msure she’ll be back soon.”

Heraised an eyebrow. “Ah, really? Do you know what that something is?”

Henry’sface was suddenly impassive, the click on the buttons loud as the TV boomedwith answering explosions. “I have an idea.”

Grahamsnickered, expecting that the lad had much more than an idea. Emma had beenbrimming with excitement when he showed up for breakfast, though it quicklyturned sour when she’d gotten a call. She had made him promise to work in theliving room until she got back. He also didn’t miss the look shared betweenmother and son, the silent conversation that took place that he only halfcaught on to – the ‘save it’ that was justinterpretable.

“D’youhave to go out a lot like that? I mean, get called in for stuff even at nightand weekends and stuff?” Henry asked, the sounds of shooting and demons dyingnearly drowning his words.

Graham highlighteda witness and linked the report, and then nodded absently to Henry’s question.“Not a whole lot, but it’s still part of the job. If I was in a different unit,it’d happen a lot more frequently, but usually we have some more leeway in coldcases.”

“Well …I guess that’s better,” Henry said at length. “Is it dangerous?”

Grahamlooked up again. Henry was deliberately not looking at him, though he noticedhis Adam’s apple bobbing. He closed the laptop and set it to the side. “It canbe,” he answered honestly. “But I know how to keep myself safe, too.”

Henrysighed and paused his game again. He turned in his seat and met his eye. “Iknow. All the guys down at the precinct say you’re good at this.”

The airwas heavy after he said it, words unspoken that Graham didn’t have to readinto. “It’s easier than having to keep alive in the woods,” he said and crackeda smile.

Henrydidn’t smile back, and instead slumped back onto the couch. “Graham …,” hetrailed off, collecting his thoughts. “Did—did you—“

Hewaited calmly as Henry collected his thoughts.

He blewout a low breath and his green eyes shaded. “Were you in Heaven?”

Grahamstartled a bit. Oh, that. “I think you’ve been watching too much TV,” he said,a lame attempt at lightening the mood.

Henrydidn’t fall for it, dark eyes wide and steady on his.

Herubbed the back of his neck and rose, pacing the length of the couch beforesitting next to him. He stared at his hands a long moment, piecing through hismemories. He didn’t want to give the boy any less than what he really thought.“No, I don’t think so,” he began, squinting as he tried to focus. It felt …hazy. Not like Storybrooke memories, but hazy nonetheless. “I don’t think I wasin the other place, either. But it was dark and cold and … I think I was justwaiting.”

Henryseemed to think that over. “Maybe because you were meant to come back to us?”he asked hesitantly.

Grahamwould love to say that was the reason, wanted so much to reassure him withthat. But he had never really thought of himself with a purpose more than a cog.Luck was all he would attribute to what he was allowed to have here. “I don’tknow about that, Henry,” he said finally, and then leaned back against thecushions. “Something must have happened when the spell was cast and undone. ButI just don’t know what that was. What’s harder … I don’t know if we’ll everknow for sure why I’m able to be here with you guys.”

Henryfrowned, obviously unsatisfied with the answer. “But you’re glad to be here,right?”

Grahamgrinned, the sudden flood of happiness sharp and poignant. He threw an armaround Henry’s shoulders and squeezed him in. “Absolutely, Henry. I couldn’timagine anywhere better.”

Henrypeeked up and grinned back, eyes light and happy. “Okay,” he said, and thentossed an arm around to make the hug real. “I’m glad you’re here, too,” hesaid, muffled into his shirt.

Thedoor creaked and clattered, and Emma bounded in, muttering under her breath.She paused when she saw them and swiped a hand through her messy curls. “Good.You’re here. Now we can get back to breakfast.”

Henrypopped his head up, beaming. “I’ll get the cocoa!”

Grahamblinked in bewilderment at the sudden flurry of activity as Emma joined him inthe kitchen. “Uh, what’s going on?” he asked.

Emmaclattered a pan onto the stovetop and turned with a glint in her eye.“Breakfast.”

“Thisis our routine!” Henry chimed in from deep in the fridge. He came out with armsladen with eggs and milk and a package of bacon. “Every Sunday we do this,because it’s when we have the most time together.”

“Suddencall-ins notwithstanding,” Emma said sullenly, then leaned over to kiss herson’s forehead. “We get a big breakfast together, one that’ll last for a couplemeals. Then we pile on the couch and watch a good-bad movie or two, then decidewhat special treat we want during the week.”

“Specialtreat?” he asked.

Henrynodded and went back to the fridge. “Since mom works a lot and I get a lot ofhomework, we get to choose one special treat so that we’re sure to do somethingtogether that’s just for fun.”

“Like alevel of his video game, or a night out to Jacob’s, or the planetarium, or outto a museum,” Emma supplied.

“Butthat’s not until later, and that always changes. This part is always the sameexcept for the food!” Henry called from the depths of the fridge.

Grahamgrinned and stood up, brushing off his pants as he approached the counter.“Well, then, can I help? Or would I be breaking the routine?”

Henrypopped back up with a handful of vegetables. “You can help dice,” he cocked hishead to the side. “I haven’t seen you cook a lot yet, but we gotta find something for you to do every Sunday.”

“Hey,now, I can cook—“ His eyebrow popped up as the statement hit him, and he lookedover to Emma. She was avoiding his eyes, whisking eggs in a big yellow bowl.“Every Sunday?” he asked.

Shehuffed a sigh and set down the bowl, and then placed her hands on her hips.“Well, yeah. That is if you wanna stay here.”

“Huh?”he asked, brows furrowing.

Henrydropped his elbows on the counter and then placed his chin in his hands. “Wewant to ask you to move in,” he said simply.

“Move—“he looked sharply to Emma.

Shegave a half-smirk, and shrugged one shoulder. Emma reached and tugged through Henry’shair anxiously. “The kid and I discussed yesterday. We thought it might beeasier if you didn’t have to go back to an empty apartment at the end of theday. And we kinda like you. It’d be nice to have you here all the time.”

Grahamopened his mouth, but no words came. He pushed against the counter and pressedhis lips together a moment before responding. “You guys are settled here, Idon’t want to impose—“

“Whosaid you’re imposing?” Emma said. She pushed the eggs over and glanced at himpointedly. “So long as you help.”

Helooked over them both, catching the equal amounts of nervous, excited energy.Slowly, a smile began to tweak at his lips, so much that he had no control overit. “You’d want me here?”

“Weneed to stick together,” Henry replied with a sharp nod.

Grahamgrabbed the bowl. “Really?”

“Really,”Henry chirped.

“Really,”Emma reiterated, then handed him a pepper grinder from beside the burners. “We’reall here for some weird, cosmic reason. I like the idea of being together onpurpose.”

He lookeddown at the bowl of eggs and carefully began adding the spices. “Well, I guessI should get packing.”

Henryperked up. “For real?”

Grahamlaughed, still feeling a little disbelief. “Why wouldn’t I want to be with youand your mom?” He ruffled his hair playfully. “I like the idea of beingtogether on purpose, too.”

“Good,”Emma said, her sparkling eyes betraying the attempt at nonchalance. She movedaround the island and stepped on tiptoes to peck at his lips. “We’ll have youpick the movie, then.”

If thiswas the reason he was here, he couldn’t say it was a bad one.

Maybehe’d even eventually believe they were meant for this: together.

#gremma #graham humbert #emma swan #henry swan #hunted believer #swan believer #ouat ff #redefining home #skagengiirl #3b rewrite #ny au #kristy answers stuff

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starryjealousy · 5 years

Text

First Winter

Title: First Winter Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: V, Nero Rating: PG Warnings: Mild swearing Summary: Living with Kyrie and Nero is affording V the opportunity to experience a lot of things all over again.

It's been, to put it lightly, a bit of a struggle getting V accustomed to a normal human life.

Up until now, Nero hasn't realised what all he, and everyone else around him, just takes for granted. The little things, such as a home-cooked meal, a good long shower that can be as hot and cold as desired, a soft bed with freshly washed sheets; they're all things V knew once, before he became who he is now, but experiencing them in this body is so different that almost everything seems to inspire a strange wondering surprise in him, something Nero's never quite sure how to react to (and he's sure it's obvious, but well, what can he do?) It's starting to become a bit of a routine, really - just when he thinks everything is settling down, something new comes up, and they're starting the cycle all over again. He thinks he's getting used to it, and slowly, he's beginning to think that's less and less of a bad thing.

Then the seasons change, and one crisp day, they wake to the first snowfall, peaceful white threatening to melt away at the barest touches of wintry sunlight.

The children, of course, are excited (and Kyrie has to gently scold them for neglecting their breakfast in favor of chattering away about how much they're looking forward to going outside), but it's surprising to Nero just how excited V seems to be too, a look of open childlike wonder on his face that's almost breathtaking in its intensity. It makes sense, really - V has never experienced winter, he's really only been alive a scant handful of months and it's the first time he's been genuinely human - and yet, some part of Nero still isn't entirely sure what to do about it, his thoughts a whirling melange of pity and uncertainty that he's trying his best to push away. To have never truly known something like this, to look on it as brand new, as something that must be touched, felt, experienced - what, he wonders, does that feel like?

(The moment he thinks it, he feels inexplicably guilty, somehow--)

The breakfast dishes are eventually cleared away, the closet gone from neat order to a hurricane of garments tossed every which way as coats and hats and gloves are procured, and the children and V are out the door like a shot, Kyrie trailing after to fuss at all four of them to make sure their coats are zipped up and to put their hats on properly and - Nero just shakes his head, follows at the rear and stuffs his hands into his pockets, absently watching the ephemeral swirls that are his breath in the chill air. It's a nice day, really, only the smallest breeze nipping at exposed noses and cheeks to turn them a cheerful red, and soon he's relaxed, watching with a small smile as Julio and Kyle teach V how to make snow angels and Kyrie helps Carlo roll up snowballs to make a wobbly little snowman. This is what life should be like, he thinks; quiet, peaceful, spent with the people he loves--

--and when, he suddenly wonders with a start, did he begin including V in that statement?--

--he doesn't even realise how lost in his own introspection he's gotten until his face is abruptly covered in chilly powder, and he swipes it away with a sputter to see a grinning Julio pointing in his direction with snow-covered mittens, cheerfully explaining the concept of a snowball fight to V.

So that's how it's going to be then, he thinks, and he finds himself smiling as he stoops to gather a handful of snow for himself.

It's not long before they're all flinging snowballs back and forth, the air filled with the sound of loud and happy voices, and Nero honestly can't remember the last time he had so much fun - it's a shame when it finally has to end, cold and playful exhaustion settling in, and soon Kyrie's herding the breathless kids back inside to warm up but V doesn't follow, only stands there, a snowball cradled awkwardly in his hands that he's looking at as though trying to divine something from its roughly-spherical depths. He seems...melancholy, somehow, almost morose, and that expression tears at Nero's heart in a way he'd never admit to, taking a step closer and raising his hand to reach out. "...Hey. You alright?"

V startles a little, looks up at him, blinking slowly in the way that Nero has come to learn means sheepish embarrassment. "...Yes, I'm fine. I was...merely thinking," he responds quietly, turns his attention back to the snowball, rolling it carefully from one hand to the other and back again. "This is...extremely pleasant, in its way. I suppose it became a bit--" pausing, he looks as if he's trying to pull the proper words out of thin air, finally just giving a helpless shrug and letting the sentence stand as it is. By now, he knows Nero will get what he means, even if he can't say it how he wants to. "...I'd like to stay out here for a bit longer. You can go inside, it's alright--"

"What if I don't want to?" Nero raises an eyebrow, lets a teasing note creep into his voice as he speaks, and he's strangely gratified when that gets a huff of a laugh from V, some of the strange sadness leaving soft green eyes. "Yeah, there you go. That's better. Don't look so sad, it makes you look like a kicked puppy--" he steps closer again, puts his hand on V's arm before he can even think, and gives him a reassuring smile. "Look, I know this has to be pretty overwhelming, and I can't even start to imagine how that must feel. But just...try to relax, huh? Have fun, like you were doing with the kids. Don't think about it so hard."

V purses his lips briefly, eyes darkening with thoughtful contemplation, a wisp of breeze ruffling his hair into his face to be absently shaken back a little. "Have fun," he repeats, as if it's a bit of an alien concept all of a sudden, turns his gaze down to the snowball and then back up to Nero's face, the softest of mischievous smirks beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, I suppose I can manage that."

Nero blinks, steps back, apprehension tugging at the back of his mind as that smirk grows wider, as V focuses on him with a laser-sharp gaze and lifts the snowball with a slow, deliberate motion. "No, that's not what I - don't even think about it, don't you dare throw that snowba--"

He never finishes the sentence, seeing as it's rather hard to speak with a mouthful of cold powder from that snowball impacting his face.

"--goddammit, V--!" he sputters once he's managed to clear the snow away, and he'd probably say more, but now V's laughing, doubled over with the force of it, and it's impossible to stay even the least bit angry in the face of that warm, open mirth. "...You're a real jackass sometimes, you know that?"

V just looks up at him, grins guilelessly, trailing off into hiccuping chuckles that just might be the most adorable thing he's ever seen, and he finds himself smiling back, a flush rising to his cheeks that has nothing to do with the chill.

"...C'mon. Let's go in. I'm gonna introduce you to something else you'll love," he finally says, turns to head inside, hearing the soft crunch of V's boots on the snow as he follows. "How do you feel about the thought of hot chocolate?"

V blinks slowly, tilts his head, considers that - combing through indistinct memories, most likely, but clearly ones that he can pull at least something tangible from. "With marshmallows?"

"Now you're talking." Nero looks back, gives him a grin, and feels warm all over when he grins back.

#devil may cry #sfw #character: nero #character: v #warning: swearing

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benhardyisdaddy · 5 years

Text

In The Shadows - Part 4

MASTERLIST

(okay so i feel like this is rlly long so im sorry lol my fics r like either super long or short no in between IM SORRY i hope u like it tho sksksks ily BYEEE oh also this pic gives me hot mysterious bf vibes so im using it)

Word Count: 2,750

You scarf down your warm meal within a minute. You stare at the now bare platter in front of you and smile. This is the fifteenth warm meal you’ve had in the last five days. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, breakfast lunch and dinner. Ben never misses a meal for you. You’re slowly getting healthier. The second day you were here was very challenging for you. You had broken out with a severely high fever. You couldn't control your shaking and could barely keep anything down. You had passed out three times in that day. What caused the fever? You two were still uncertain. You were so dehydrated and weak, it could've been triggered from anything. But you’re better now. Your skin is gradually getting its color back, the bags underneath your eyes are slightly less dark and now you can officially stand up without feeling like you’re going to tumble over. And that was a great feeling.

You continue to stare at your plate while lost deep in thought, when Ben knocks on your door.

"Come in!" you call out.

The door gently opens up and he peeks in. He grins and strolls over to retrieve your empty plates.

"Good?" he asks.

"Delicious." you reply back.

He smiles and walks to the window and pulls open the curtains. You gather your hair into a ponytail and hold it with a rubber band. Your hands feel your scalp and it's, of course, oily. You quickly become self conscious around Ben and look away. You don't want him to notice how scummy you must look. When you have no water to take showers with, it's kind of hard to maintain your hygiene. Ben looks over to you and you look down at your hands and your dirty nails. You try to quickly clean them.

"Hey," he says, trying to get your attention.

"Yeah?" you ask, still looking down.

"Follow me."

You look up fast, shocked. Ben walks to the door and stands there looking at you. You furrow your brows and shake your head not understanding.

"I want to show you something." he says, noticing your confused expression.

"You mean I can actually leave the room?" you ask, dramatically.

Ben fake laughs. You smile and slowly attempt to stand from the bed. Within seconds he's next to you and holding your arm. You gasp at his touch and freeze. He notices how tense you become and quickly lets go.

"I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I was just gonna help."

"It's fine." you say back fast. "I'm fine."

You look up and half smile. Has this man housed you and fed you and kept you alive? Yes. Is the man still a vampire? Yes. Do you trust him?

No.

He takes a step back and walks to the door. You grab a hold of the medal cart that holds your IV and steady yourself. You walk towards the door and wheel it next to yourself. This is the first time you’re leaving the room since you’ve been here. You walk into the hallway and look around. A door at the end of the hall is closed. Another door beside it is closed as well. Ben starts walking to the left of your room as you pass a set of stairs that leads downstairs. You pass them and walk to another closed door. Ben opens it up and it reveals a bathroom. You stare into it confused.

"Ta da!" he sings out.

You look to him and back to the bathroom.

"Wow, um, it's big!" you say, attempting fake excitement. "But I already have a tinier version of this in my room."

He laughs and walks even further into the giant bathroom. You walk in behind him and look around. White. Everything is white. A white bathtub, a white shower, white toilet, the floors and walls are white, the counters and sink are even white. You walk in even further and notice a large cardboard box sitting on the counter. You look at it and then to Ben.

"Okay, well, while I was out, I decided to go into a store and look around. I figured, you've had a hard week, and you're a girl, and you might, maybe, like these?" he says, dragging his sentence out.

You walk to the box and slowly open it. Inside is a variety of different things. Mascara, eye liner, foundation, blush, powder, eye shadow, a toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, a razor, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and last but not least, tampons. You pick up the pink box and look over to him. He's blushing and shrugs.

"I had no idea what to get. I just figured you might need-"

You put up a hand to stop him.

"It's fine. Thank you. Honestly. I don't know the last time I've seen or even worn makeup. I use to all of the time before all of...this. So, seriously. Thank you."

He smiles widely and nods. Then his head perks up a little more as he holds up a finger.

"I almost forgot. Here," he says, walking to the shower.

He opens up the door and turns the handle to the right. Water pours down from the shower head and you stand there in amazement. You’re use to toilets working, but never showers. Steam fills the room as the water continues to rush down. Ben looks to you and smiles.

"Oh, here," he says.

He slowly reaches out for your arm and you jerk away, not thinking. He looks at you and lifts his brows. You smile apologetically and allow him to touch you. He peels away the tape of the IV and slowly pulls it out. You hiss at the slight sting, but it's over quickly. He grabs the IV cart and smiles.

"I'll leave you two alone." he says teasingly.

You laugh at him and smile. He exits the room and closes the door behind him. You walk to it and out of habit, lock it. You turn back to the shower and quickly undress. You lay your clothes on the counter and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You stare as you cock your head to the side at your reflection. You’re dirty and bruised. You close your eyes and take in a deep breath. You step into the shower and feel the warm water pour over your sore back. Your muscles ache as you lean your head back and allow the water to pour over your face. You grab the body wash and lather it all over your skin. All of the mud and dirt and blood that you have collected on yourself all washes away. The bottom of the shower turns into a brown mess as it all rinses down the drain. You finally wash and condition your hair. The oiliness is officially gone! You grab the razor and shave the tiny forest on your legs and under arms. Relief. You then stand under the water for several more minutes enjoying every last drop, then you finally turn it off.

You slowly open the shower door and step out. You grab a white towel hanging a hook and dry yourself off. You wrap it around your body and walk to the foggy mirror. You wipe some steam away and stare. You’re clean! You can't help but smile. You look to the counter and grab the deodorant. Something you’ve missed so terribly! After that, you brush your teeth. The strong minty flavor over takes your taste buds. You brush and brush and brush until you feel like they're clean. You spit and wipe your mouth. You look back up and smile in the mirror to view your teeth. As you’re examining your now pearly whites, there's a light knock at the door. You pause and listen.

"It's me," calls out Ben. "I have clean clothes for you. I'll just sit them here by the door."

Before he's done talking, you walk to the door and crack it open. He looks you up and down and then to your face. You suddenly remember all you have on is a towel. You fold your arms over your chest and blush.

"Uh, here you go. They were my sisters, if that's okay. They're clean, I promise. Oh, and the, uh, underwear… I got them from the store as well. They're not my sisters." he says as he laughs.

You reach out and take the clothes. You can’t help but laugh back at him.

"Thank you," you say.

He nods his head and awkwardly takes a step back.

"Okay, I'm just gonna..."

You quickly nod your head as well.

"Oh, yeah. Me too..."

You slowly shut the door and lock it again. You look at the folded clothes and sit them on the counter. You put on the undergarments and are happy that they fit. You then slip on a black tank top and grey sweats that are tight around your ankles. A large, long sleeved maroon colored cardigan is in the pile. You slip it on and then the black socks. You examine yourself in the mirror. First clean clothes you’ve had in months. Being here has given you a lot of firsts. You grab the towel and squeeze your damp hair. You bend over and shake your head. You stand back up and the room slightly spins. You grab the counter and steady yourself. It passes.

You then look to the makeup and think to yourself for a moment. Makeup or no makeup? You haven't worn it in months. You don't really need it anymore. I mean, when vampires take over the world, makeup doesn't seem like a big issue anymore. Then again, Ben did get it for you. And it wouldn't hurt to maybe look nice for once. Maybe just some foundation. He did get the perfect shade. You grab the tiny glass bottle and shake it. You open it and pour a little on your fingers. You spread the liquid all over your face and gently massage it. Your once red skin from the hot shower is now flawless. You look down to the mascara and pick it up. You shrug, open the tube and gently swipe it all over your lashes. In an instant, your eyes are brighter. You put the mascara back and grab the liner. You slowly put a thin line of black across your lid. You pull back and make sure it looks okay. You walk to the door and take a deep breath. You slowly open it and peer out.

You take a step forward and a movement catches your eye. You look forward and the room all the way at the end of the hallway is wide open. Inside is Ben. His back is turned to you as he lifts up his shirt over his head and tosses it to the ground. You feel almost guilty for watching, but you don't look away. You watch as the muscles in his back tense up with every move he makes. He grabs a shirt that was lying on the bed and puts his arms through it and then turns around. You realize that he's going to see you, so you freeze. He looks up to you and your eyes lock. Don't look at his abs, don't look at his abs. He slips his shirt over his head and walks towards you. He stares you up and down and shakes his head.

"Wow," he says. "You look-"

"Clean?" you interrupt.

He laughs and nods.

"Definitely clean."

You smile and turn to walk back to your room. You suddenly don't feel as insecure about yourself. You sit on the bed as Ben opens the drawer to get more supplies for the IV, when all of a sudden there's a knock at the door downstairs. You both pause and look at each other fast. Your heart races as you wonder who the hell that could be? Ben closes the drawer and stands up. He looks to the hall and then back to you. He slightly smiles.

"I'll be right back. Stay here." he says almost sternly

You nod quickly as he exits the room and walks down the stairs. You jump up from the bed and tiptoe to the hallway. You stop right by the stairs and listen. You hear a voice talk and then Ben. It's another man. You can only make out the words 'girl', 'healthy' and 'eat'. Eat!? Your heart races even faster. Eat what?! Eat me!?

"That wasn't the deal!" you hear the man shout.

A loud crash vibrates through the house. You jump at the noise and run back to your room. You look around frantically. You need to hide. You run to the closet and open it. Inside it's packed with giant, heavy cardboard boxes. You look through them, but they're all filled with either clothes or books. You turn around to run to the bathroom, but are stopped in your tracks. A brunette man wearing a long black trench coat is standing in the doorway, blocking it. He's smiling at you.

"Hi there." he says.

You say nothing. You continue to watch him as he steps closer. The man looked human, yet didn’t. His skin was unusually pale and his eyes were bright red. The bags under his eyes were almost black as every vein in his body bulged. His fingernails were disgustingly long and sharp and his overall features were distorted and terrifying. You knew exactly why he looked like this. This is what happens to a vamp when they live off of human blood.

"You must be (Y/N). Ben told us all about you."

You take a step back.

"He was right, you are pretty. And skinnier than I thought.” he says disappointed. “He was suppose to fatten you up. You know, the skinny ones always taste bland."

Your body begins trembling. Fatten me up?! Ben’s job was to get you healthy and what? Eat you? What happened to not hurting you? Nothing makes sense right now. He lied. He lied to you! And now you’re about to die, all because you actually thought you could trust him. A vampire! How stupid were you?

"Oh well,” continues the man. “It doesn't matter. You'll still taste good."

And before you know it, the man lunges at you. You scream and run to your bed and jump on it. You attempt to run for the door, but he's too fast and blocks it. You stop and slowly back up. Tears flood your eyes, you can't stop them.

"Ben!" you scream out.

The man coldly laughs.

"Ben! Please!" he yells in a mocking tone. "It's no use." is all he says.

In a flash, he's in front of you with his hand tightly around your throat. You grasp his wrist and struggle to breathe. You try to fight out of his grip, but it's no use. He's too strong. The room starts to spin as you lose oxygen. You keep trying to scream for Ben, but can't.

"You know, it's a shame. He really liked you."

Just as the man reaches down to bite your neck, you hear a giant whack. The man tumbles forward as you slide to the ground. You take in a deep breath and cough. You hear another whack and look up. Ben is on top of the man, fighting him. A giant slash is on his forehead as thick black ooze pours down. Ben has a large frying pan and is slamming it into the man's head. You feel a sharp sting in your right arm and look down to it. Blood is oozing down from a long cut that you must have gotten when sliding down the wall. You look behind you and spot a sharp nail sticking out from the windowsill. You look back to Ben and you’re heart almost stops. They were both paused and glaring at you, their eyes pitch black. The man's face is snarling as he looks to your arm. A drop of blood drips down and splashes onto the hardwood floor. You look back up and in slow motion, Ben screams at you.

“RUN!”

The man is under him, trying to claw his way to you, leaving scratch marks on the floor. His actions and snarling almost turn animalistic. You finally understand what's happening. You fly up and do exactly as he says.

You run.

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#benhardyisdaddy #in the shadows #part 4 #ben hardy #benhardy #ben hardy imagine #benxreader #benhardyxreader #benhardy!#benhardyxy/n #fic #series #angst #vampire

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lastbluetardis · 5 years

Text

Chemical Potential (2/11)

Summary: Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

Ten x Rose University AU

This chapter: ~2200 words, all ages

Notes: This was written for the lovely @thegreenfairy13 as part of the @dwsecretsanta gift exchange. I’ve changed my posting schedule to the middle of the week as AO3 is more frequently down over the weekends, I’ve noticed.

AO3 | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | epilogue

The early October sun shone brightly overhead as they walked towards the center of the sprawling campus, their joined hands swinging loosely between them. The day was cool but steadily warming, and Rose saw several students carrying jackets and sweatshirts over their arms.

“This is one of the most annoying times of year,” James said. “The mornings are cold but the afternoons are warm. It’s impossible to know how to dress!”

“Layers,” Rose answered, unzipping the front of her jacket to reveal the long-sleeve shirt underneath.

“Quite right,” he agreed. “I can’t wait ‘til the trees start to change. It’s beautiful.”

Rose nodded. The campus had been built into a mountain, and trees lined every walkway. She couldn’t wait to take photographs in the height of autumn.

“What year are you?” Rose asked curiously.

“Second year,” he replied. “And you?”

“First year,” she said.

“Oh, so you must be brand-new to the country and the whole institution of university.” When Rose nodded, his voice softened. “How are you adjusting?”

A dull ache radiated through her chest, though not as fierce as it had been when she’d broken down in the loo.

They’d reached the dining hall, and James released her hand to jog a few paces ahead of her to hold open the door for her. The chivalrous act made her smile. Jimmy had never gone out of his way to hold open doors or anything for her.

James’s eyes were expectant, and Rose remember he’d asked her a question.

“Oh, you know.” She shrugged. “Some days are good, others not so much.”

James nodded knowingly, and when they were both inside, he rested his hand at her lower back and guided her to the food court. The touch sent tingles down her spine.

Rose looked around with interest. She very rarely found herself in this building; most days, she packed breakfast and lunch and had no need to purchase a meal. She thought of the banana and baggie of cereal in her backpack, but when she smelled eggs and bacon, her stomach rumbled, and she knew she wasn’t in the mood for the breakfast she’d brought.

James grabbed a tray for himself and one for her, then he made a beeline for the pancake station.

“Oh, brilliant!” Rose followed him and saw a giant grin on his face. “Banana pancakes!”

Rose smiled at his enthusiasm and giggled when he stacked six pancakes onto his plate. She was more conservative and only took two, then followed him to scoop eggs and bacon beside her pancakes.

“I’m still not completely used to Americans’ love of sweet foods for breakfast,” Rose said, watching James completely douse his plate in maple syrup, covering not only the pancakes but also his eggs and bacon.

“Oh, I love it. I’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth,” he admitted sheepishly.

“You don’t look like it,” Rose blurted, and she cringed.

But James laughed and winked, then moved to the other end of the food court for coffee. Rose followed and got herself a cup of tea.

When they reached the register, James whipped out his student ID card while Rose dug into her backpack for her wallet. James frowned when he saw she’d taken out cash.

“You don’t have a meal plan?”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“A meal plan,” he repeated. “Everyone who lives on campus is required to have one. And even some people who don’t live on campus get a meal plan. Like me. I don’t live on campus but I spend so much time here and sometimes I don’t feel like bringing my own food. I’m rubbish with having cash on me and I don’t like using my credit or debit card for small purchases so it’s just easier for me to put dining dollars into my account.”

Rose bit her lip to stifle a smirk the longer he rambled on. She met the eye of the clerk at the register and grinned when the woman rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“No, I don’t live on campus,” Rose explained. “I pack breakfast and lunch most days.”

“Then here, let me…” James turned to the cashier and said, “All of this is together.”

Heat flooded from the tips of Rose’s ears down her neck. “No, you don’t have to do that. I can pay for myself.”

“I know, but I want to,” James answered, his cheeks going pink. “Please? I’d like to. It’s not every day I make a new friend.”

Rose sincerely doubted that, what with how talkative he was even to a perfect stranger like her.

“Are you sure?” she mumbled.

“Absolutely.”

He handed over his ID card to the cashier, and one swipe later, James and Rose walked with their food to the long wall of windows at the back of the room.

“Thank you,” Rose said softly, following James to a round table that could comfortably seat six people.

“Anytime. God, I’m famished! I usually eat breakfast before class but I accidentally overslept this morning. I thought it was Tuesday, not Wednesday. I’ve got a totally different alarm for Tuesdays. So I didn’t have time to eat.”

James sliced his fork through his stack of pancakes and shoveled them into his mouth. His cheeks puffed out comically and his eyes fluttered shut as he let out a soft humming sound of contentment.

“I love pancakes,” he sighed through his full mouth.

Rose smiled and took a reasonable bite of her food.

“I’ve got another class at eleven,” James warned. “Calc 3. Do you have another class today?”

“Art of the Renaissance at noon.”

James furrowed his brow. “What’s your major, anyway?”

“Art and education,” she replied. “I want to teach someday, I think. You?”

“That’s brilliant. And I’m double-majoring in physics and mechanical engineering.” He paused. “What the hell are you doing in general chemistry?”

Rose looked down at her plate and speared her fork through her eggs.

“It was the only science class that fit into my schedule,” she muttered. “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“Can you withdraw?” he asked gently.

“Not without dropping below twelve credits,” she said bitterly. “I’m here on a full scholarship, and they’ll take it away if I’m not a full-time student. So I’m kinda stuck.” She huffed out a huge breath and massaged her temples, her earlier anxiety coming back. “I need to keep a 3.0 GPA, and I can’t get anything below a C.” Tears welled into her eyes as her heart started hammering throughout her whole body. “I’m so fucked, James.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” His chair scraped across the floor until it was butted up against hers. His thigh pressed into hers and he wrapped his arms wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his chest. She tensed for a minute but then melted into the embrace.

Tears dripped down her cheeks as he hugged her tightly. He nuzzled his cheek into the top of her hair and rubbed his hand up and down her back in long, slow strokes. She buried her face into his chest when she remembered she’d wiped off all of her makeup and wouldn’t ruin his shirt. She sniffled, and her lungs filled with the smell of him. Sandalwood and laundry detergent and fresh air. God, he smelled good.

“Easy does it,” he murmured.

She let out a shuddering breath, mortification overtaking her. Pulling back from his hug, she grabbed her napkin and blotted her eyes and blew her nose.

“God, I’m sorry,” she whispered, pressing her lips into something she hoped looked like a smile.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “It’s okay to show emotion. It’s okay to cry when stressed. You’ve had loads to adjust to in such a small space of time.”

Rose nodded and mangled her napkin in her fist.

“How did you get here, anyway?” he asked. “To an American university.”

“A plane,” she teased, a genuine smile finally crossing her face.

James rolled his eyes and snorted. “Smartarse.”

She giggled, and said, “I applied to a few universities in America. A mate of mine moved to New York last year with his job and really loves it here. I wanted a fresh start. Moving to a different country seemed like a good way to do that.”

He looked at her curiously, obviously wanting more details. She didn’t feel like going into her past with him yet, and she waited to see if he would press for more information. She was relieved when he stayed silent.

“How about you?” she asked. “How did you end up here?”

“I’ve lived in the United States since I was sixteen,” he replied. “My Aunt Sarah moves us around a lot for her job. She’s a journalist and is always moving to different countries, chasing stories. She moved us to the US six years ago. She’s currently in Flint, Michigan doing some reporting. I moved here for school.”

Rose desperately wanted to ask what happened to his parents, but he’d given her the courtesy of not asking for more information than what she’d provided. She would do the same.

Instead, she asked, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” he answered. “Twenty-three in December. A little older than the typical undergraduate student, but I got a late start. I did a bit of travelling, trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. And I honestly still have no idea what I want to do.”

They lapsed into an only slightly awkward silence. Rose trailed her fork tines through the leftover syrup on her plate and James finished the food on his.

“Do you want to study together?”

Rose looked up at him when he spoke, but he was very intently adding packets of sugar to his coffee. One… Two… Three… Four… Blimey, five! He wasn’t kidding about the sweet tooth, she thought.

“I thought it might be nice, y’know? Chemistry is hard, and next to impossible if you go it alone. I thought maybe we could buddy up and help each other through.”

Rose was about to decline. She’d caught a glimpse of his exam score over his shoulder in class that morning—a perfect score. He didn’t need her help studying, he just felt sorry for her. She didn’t want to burden him, no matter how much help she needed to get her through the class. If it was even possible for her to get through the class with a satisfactory grade.

But it would be so nice to have a friend to hang out with, even if it was just to study. She liked James—a lot—and she found herself wanting to get to know him. He seemed like someone she could become really good friends with.

James had finally looked up from his coffee. His eyes were deep and earnest, and she saw absolutely no hint of reluctance in them like he regretted offering to help her study.

“I’m really bad at chemistry,” she warned.

James shrugged. “We’ll take it slowly.” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then reached out and covered her hand with his own. His palms were hot from being cradled around his coffee, and the warmth felt nice. “I want to help you if I can, Rose.”

Rose bit her lip. What was the worst that could happen? She could agree to study with him and still fail the class and their study sessions would be a complete waste of James’s time. But if she studied alone, she was certainly going to fail the class.

So what if she did study with James and still failed? Maybe she’d get a good friend out of the experience.

And what if—what if—she studied with him and passed?

“Okay,” she said softly. “Yeah, let’s study together.”

James’s face lit up in a delighted grin, and he gave her fingers a sharp squeeze. “Brilliant! I look forward to it.” His eyes drifted behind her shoulder, and his brows lifted. “Bugger. We’ve been here longer than I thought. I’ve gotta run.”

Rose glanced over her shoulder to the clock on the wall. Ten-fifty-five. Oh, right. He had a class at eleven.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he promised, standing up from the table.

Rose smirked. “Yeah? And how are you gonna do that?”

“Hmm? Oh! Er…” He fumbled around in his pockets, first the front pockets, then his back pockets, then finally his jacket pocket until he found his phone. Rose took it and typed her contact info into it. When she handed it back, he tapped on the screen and Rose felt her own mobile vibrating. It stopped after a second when James shoved his phone into his back pocket.

“There, now you’ve got my number,” he said. “Right! Goodbye for now, Rose Tyler!”

“Bye, James. Thanks for breakfast. And thanks for… thanks.” She trailed off awkwardly, but James’s eyes softened in understanding.

“Gotta dash,” he said. He turned away and began walking away, and Rose settled in at their table to catch up on some homework before her noontime class. “Hey, Rose?” She looked up to see James had turned back around. “I’m so glad I met you.”

Rose beamed at him, feeling her heart skip a beat when he returned the smile.

“Me too,” she called out, and she heard a high-pitched giggle before he turned and strode outside.

#thegreenfairy13 #dwsecretsanta #ficandchips #dwfic #doctorroseprompts #(i know drp is on hiatus #but i want to keep in the habit of tagging drp)#doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #university au #my fic #chemical potential

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ilovethings-somuch · 6 years

Text

Saturdays Away

Frank Adler x Reader

Finally another addition from my 1,500 Followers Celebration! This one was requested by my dear @princess-evans-addict and she requested the Wearing Each Other’s Clothes trope along with the line “I could do that, but I won’t.”

Morning afters with Frank were uncommon. He was usually a little paranoid about Mary coming home early from Roberta’s when we were at his place, and when we were at my place he always felt that he needed to get back so he could take Mary off Roberta’s hands. This weekend, however, was a bit of a treat. Mary was going on a little camping trip with her girl scout troop which meant she was out of town from Friday afternoon until Sunday morning. Frank was staying at my place for the duration of Mary’s trip and I was beyond excited about getting so much time with him.

Frank decided we should go into the city to try a new restaurant and I was excited by the prospect of dressing up to impress him. Frank planned to pick me up at 6, leaving me a mere hour to get ready after work. I rushed between my closet and the bathroom, trying on all of my dresses before settling on the first one I had tried on. Jewelry was a whole new issue. I was always afraid of overdoing it so I decided to wear a set of earrings that matched with a necklace and skipped the rings and bracelets I was considering. I simply touched up my makeup from the work day and added a little extra eyeshadow and lipstick before moving onto my hair. I had meant to curl it this morning, but a small alarm clock issue had left me throwing it into a bun as I ran out the door. I took it out of the hair tie only to display a wild monster. I ran my brush through the knots a few times before plugging in my straightener and getting to work. It was always pleasing to see the transformation as the straightener did its job and I was left with straight sleek lengths. I pulled part of the front away from my face and secured it with a round pin.

I managed to finish getting ready moments before Frank knocked on the door. I called for him to come in as I sat on a stool to get my shoes on. I stood to meet him as he closed the door behind him. I immediately took in his grey suit, the white shirt tucked tightly into his pants and the deep red tie he was sporting.

“I was worried I was going to be overdressed,” I admitted as I watched him look at me same way I had just looked at him.

“That’s impossible. You look stunning,” he took my hand and I leaned in for a kiss. “We should get going,” he reminded me once we broke apart. I nodded my agreement and grabbed my purse as Frank led the way out the door.

The restaurant we went to was impeccable. The food was amazing and Frank even ordered a nice bottle of wine to go with our meal.

“I feel like we’re celebrating something,” I noted as the wine was served.

“We are,” Frank said. “We’re celebrating us.”

“To us,” I raised my glass and he gently bumped his against mine.

I was a little bit tipsy as Frank drove us back to my house. I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering to all the things I wanted to do with him tonight which lead to me sliding closer to him on the bench seat of his truck and nuzzling into his side.

“What are you doing?” Frank asked, a smile dancing on his lips.

“Just getting comfortable,” I smiled back at him before stretching up to kiss the corner of his jaw. I trailed my lips down and places kisses along his neck, occasionally swiping my tongue across his skin. Frank squirmed slightly and I noticed his pants becoming tighter. I continued to tease him the rest of the ride home and by the time we were in the door his pupils were blown wide and he was devouring me in seconds.

I woke up with Frank’s arms wrapped securely around my waist. I had forgotten how good it felt to wake up in his arms and know we had the whole day to waste together. After laying in bed a while longer, my growling stomach made it clear that it was time to get up. I maneuvered my way out of Frank’s arms and as I stood up I saw Frank’s white button up from the night before strewn across the bedroom floor. The thought of how Frank might react to seeing me in his clothes had me pulling on his shirt as I made my way to the kitchen.

I started cooking bacon once the pancake batter had been mixed. The kitchen warmed up quickly with the cooking and the smell of food only made my stomach growl more. It took Frank longer than I expected to wake up and I had begun to wonder if I started cooking too early, but shortly after that thought crossed my mind, I heard the sound of water running in the bathroom.

Frank came into the kitchen and smiled lazily at me. He had pulled on the pair of sweatpants he left at my house a few weeks ago but his chest remained bare. I turned back to my cooking before I could accidentally let it burn and Frank met me at the stove. Hands wrapping around my waist and the slight scruff that brushed along my neck was definitely something I could get used to.

“So that’s where my shirt went. I was going to wear that, you know,” Frank said, his breath ghosting across my skin.

“Oh, well you can wear mine if you want,” I teased.

He spun me around as I finished the comment and looked me up and down, “I could do that, but I won’t.”

“Probably for the best,” I pressed my lips together to suppress my laugh. I watched as Frank’s eyes slowly glanced down to my lips, but the smell of smoke interrupted us before we could get any farther. I turned back to the stove quickly and got the bacon off the frying pan and onto a plate before I turned back to Frank, “You need to go sit over there until I’m done cooking.”

Frank put his hands up in surrender as he chuckled and walked over to sit behind the breakfast bar. He started talking about all the things that were happening around town today. There was an art fair happening by the water that he thought I would enjoy and normally I would, but when faced with the option of either staying in all day with Frank or literally anything else, I had to choose staying in.

“What about that movie we didn’t get to see in theaters. I bet we could stream it from somewhere by now,” I suggested instead. By this point, I had finished cooking the bacon and was finishing up the last couple pancakes.

“That sounds good, we’re talking about the Bond style one right?”

“Actually I was thinking that scary one that I said I would prefer to watch in my home where I could hide in your arms the whole time. We could definitely do both though, drop the whole art fair thing and just stay here,” I shrugged as if I didn’t have a preference. Frank stood to help me get the last couple additions to our meal.

“You really don’t want to go anywhere?” He asked as we sat down and started plating our meal.

“I’m not totally against it if you want to, but we don’t get the opportunity to lay low very often. I thought it would be nice to just stay in. I’m sure we can come up with plenty of things to do here,” I tried to add a wink at the end but it came off way less smooth than I had hoped it would. Frank laughed into his coffee before soothing my pout with a kiss.

We did end up having a bit of a movie marathon before we ended up back in bed. The sheets were a tangled mess on the bed and Frank and I were tangled within them.

“I wish every weekend could be like this,” Frank admitted as his fingers ran along the length of my spine.

“Maybe it could be,” I said. Frank looked at me quizzically making it clear I’d need to explain further. “I don’t mean the sex necessarily, but Mary likes me right?”

“We’ve been over this, Mary loves you,” Frank assures me with a smile.

“So then, maybe we could take our relationship to the next step.”

“What step would that be?”

“We could move in together.” I wish I could say I had been confident that Frank would agree, but honestly, the thought had only recently occurred to me and there I was blurting it out in front of him.

“You think we’re ready for that?” Frank asked, almost instantly crushing any hope I’d had that he would agree.

“You don’t?”

“Of course I do,” he moved his hand to cup my cheek and kissed my forehead before continuing. “I just want to make sure you’re ready, ready for me and Mary.”

“I am. Besides, I do have a spare bedroom that I’m sure Mary would love.”

“Oh, you think we’re moving here? You might have to fight Roberta on that one,” Frank tells me with a smile as he moves in to kiss me deeply.

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khrsecretsanta · 5 years

Text

To: Trilies (James)

ARC 1 - Trololous (Atan)

Hi, this is for James (Trilies). I hope you like it. And have a happy holiday!

From trololous.

ARC 2 - Autolykos (fiamma/fia)

Hi, James!! I’m happy to write for you this year! Sorry it gets a little stiff in the end, I haven’t been writing for a while because of university, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! I love my Estraneo kids as well, I wasn’t sure if you wanted something holiday-themed or not, and I’m sure you’d love to see these kids not suffer more, but I came up with something a little sweet, Ken and Chikusa wanting Mukuro to have a fun time. Happy holidays!

—

Until Mukuro returned to Kokuyo-land in flesh, Ken and Chikusa had relied on Chrome to let them know he was… Doing. Even though the both of them always got the same answer because what else could I possibly be doing chained up six feet underwater, Ken? Chikusa still prays for the other to magically gain an understanding of sarcasm, to this day. To be fair, Mukuro had a way with words and even he struggled to tell if he actually meant anything he was saying at times.

Still, even with him now here, Mukuro remained elusive and cryptic as he always was since childhood, maybe even as expected of him as a Mist. Then again, none of the Kokuyo Gang were concerned with Vongola, at least not as much as Chrome and Mukuro were. This wasn’t about Vongola, though, and Chrome, as much as Ken and Chikusa missed her presence, was out of the picture. This was about Mukuro.

Because he had been away for so long, the only way Mukuro got a grasp on the situation at Kokuyo Land was through possession, and he could only do it so often. It was only after the situations with Daemon and Vindice that he bore full witness to the common occurrences at home. Most of the time, he had absolutely nothing to worry about. In fact, now that he was back, he went out of his way to assert how he had appreciated some peace of mind away from his gang’s antics even if it meant being imprisoned…

“I don’t think he really means that,” Chikusa said, as he and Ken sat on the roof of one of Kokuyo Land’s other abandoned buildings, planning. Hopefully, neither Mukuro nor his owl were watching from somewhere. “Mukuro, I mean.”

At least alone, they were free to talk about him as someone they knew instead of worked under. Not that they minded it, being extremely loyal, but they felt obligated to be concerned about him every now and then. Ken on the other hand, furiously scratched out another bad idea on his notepad. Chikusa noted his terrible grip on his pencil, consequence of them never properly going to school, and mused that whatever the other had written down, was probably in too poor a script to be legible to even himself.

“Of course he doesn’t! But you and I both-“ he paused to rip out the paper and crumple it up. “-would die before he says it to our face. I know he’s hiding it.” If he was true to his namesake, his ears would have flattened to match his saddened look, but Chikusa pinched himself lest he laugh at the mental image and offend the other. “It’s Mukuro… but…”

“I get it. You’re right.”

They stayed silent for a long time. In the distance, birds were chirping as the sun began to set. While Mukuro was gone, the two of them weren’t sure if he was watching them while their bodies were… reminded, of what they had gone through years before. It wasn’t as unpleasant as the nightmares they had as kids, but they were unwelcome nonetheless. Ken would become extremely inconsolable until it passed, and the already distant Chikusa would become a walking unresponsive shell that would suddenly crash and need to be reminded that everyone was trustworthy again.

If Mukuro was watching them then, he either didn’t care and it was Chrome’s own kindness that prompted her to try and comfort them, or his silent instructions. But they were sure it wasn’t easy for him too, especially given the whole… Remembering things from six past lives. If he wouldn’t remember from the two of telling him (but they wouldn’t. Their hurt minds learned to appreciate whatever ignorance they could get), in a few days his body would remind him of what… they… had done to him. And they wanted to fill that day with as much distractions as possible, hopefully to counter whatever negative feelings he could feel. Would he show them? No. But the two of them were smarter than they let on to be confident that Mukuro would appreciate this if he were in their place…

“How troublesome. You know, we’re overthinking this.”

Ken cursed in agreement but earned a hard look from the other male, before scratching at his hair. Chikusa hoped that whatever they ended up deciding on doing, would result in Ken getting a bath. To ease the mood, he sighed. It was getting dark now.

“Pretty sure we can’t mess this up too badly.”

Ken hoped so.

—

Although Mukuro was not one to dwell on the past, it came back to him against his will from time to time, and although it didn’t cause him to have as… severe… a reaction as Ken and Chikusa, it was exhausting to deal with nonetheless. This time, though, he eased into the morning with a relatively cool head. A rare occurrence, and though wary, he decided to appreciate it while he still could.

“Hm…?”

Rubbing his eyes and sitting up, he found a tray placed some distance away from his form, on his bed. A tray of… breakfast?

He didn’t remember any of the Kokuyo Gang members being able to cook… Even if they could, they didn’t have gas. It might have been ordered out, but was it? Ken and Chikusa were too prideful to take money from Mukuro (although the same could not be said for illusionary money, although Mukuro was not one to gamble with the law, entertaining as it was) and so clearly instead of snacks, this was what they’d opted for. Either way, curious. Clearly it had been here for quite some time, at least enough for it to go cold, since it wasn’t covered up with anything… Proper household items were not the gang’s priority, but, it looked appetizing nonetheless. His eyes were drawn to a neatly folded note, which he gingerly took up to read while scratching his side with the other hand. Of course. It featured a poorly spelt message in an illegible handwriting by Ken, crossed out and replaced with a much neater and formal message by Chikusa at the bottom:

HEY!!! Get up sleepyhead!!!! We went all the way to get this for you, so you better show up downstairs or I’ll drag you out!!!

Good morning, Mukuro-san. Please enjoy this, we thought you’d like it.

Mukuro definitely thought he’d enjoy this more if it was a warm meal, and questioned the choice of a written note over a text, but this was sufficient. It wasn’t fair to expect too much out of the two of them. Though, it impressed him that they had managed to enter his room and place this here without waking him up—

Drawing his trident to his hand with illusions, he swung and plunged it deep into the invisible but definitely existent figure sitting on the edge of his bed. The floating piece of buttered toast promptly dropped back onto the plate.

“Fran. You’re starting to make me think you’re asking for it at this point.”

His student, now materialized, pouted at the three new holes placed in his hat and shuddered at the other’s forced smile. “Geez, okay, sorry….”

…Despite that inconvenience, everything else about this day so far was charming.

—

“Stop cheating.”

“Piss off!! You’re just mad you’re losing.”

“….”

Mukuro lingered a little longer in the threshold of their living room, watching the two of them furiously engaged in some fighting game, as usual. Although, he noted it was a newer game and a newer console, and wondered when they had managed to purchase it. Probably while he was gone. Speaking of missing people, other than Fran, M.M. was no where to be found. Probably was doing the right thing and went out to avoid their antics. Amused, he plopped onto the couch while nursing a water bottle.

“You could certainly use a class in sportsmanship, Ken,” he said, smiling at the jolt from both of them, before taking a casual sip from his bottle.

After his initial fear faded, Ken flashed a grin. “What use is that?! Hey. Mukuro-san.”

“Mhm?”

“I’ll think about it if you can beat me.”

“Nonsense. I won’t participate in something so..” He paused to squint at the game. “Brutish.”

“He’s right.”

“Thank you, Ch-”

“Play against me instead, Mukuro-san. It’s no fun with a cheater.” As soon as he stopped talking, Chikusa quickly dodged a swipe from Ken and they started bickering as usual, but if Mukuro wasn’t sure if they were serious before, he was now. What was with their insistence? Was today some special occasion that he was unaware of? Even if it was… It put a much warmer feeling inside his chest to think that they were doing this just because they wanted to…

“…. Honestly.” Sighing, Mukuro waved his hand in wait for one of them to hand him a controller, laughing slightly. “You two are hopeless.”

Their only responses were smiles. In their defense, he’d been their destruction-bent gang leader for long enough. He deserved to be a kid like them, even for a little while.

“Can I ask, what’s with the water guns over there?”

“We get to chase the loser around with those, Mukuro-san. It’ll be fun.”

“Kufufu… It sounds so.”

“WHAT?! Hey, hold up- We didn’t agree on this!!!”

“It’s fine, Ken. You might win. I don’t know how to play.”

“Here, let me show you…”

A little while to spend with their real friend, was more than enough.

ARC 3 - Ppurificated (ppurificated)

When you say estraneo boys, i think about how they possibly were before experiment, so enjoy their adorable smile before the inevitable :)

#trilies

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johntenctzen · 5 years

Text

gift 》 johnten

@doppelgangergoat this is my gift to you. i know you wanted a johnten ficlet and i came up with this. i hope you don’t mind that it isn’t really an adventure or smut story, i suck at writing those rip. i hope i didn’t disappoint and that you like this nonetheless! and while you don’t really celebrate christmas, i still want to wish you a warm and happy two days :) and!!!!! if i somehow didn’t gross you out and you want to stay in contact (honestly, i dont know why you would, i’m kinda gross) feel free to message me!

playlist:

mariah carey - all i want for christmas is you

pentatonix - that’s christmas to me

andrew belle - all those pretty lights

themes: friends-to-lovers, romance, getting together, mild swearing at the end

word count: 1345

Ten looks over at Johnny and grins mischievously at the sleeping giant. Without second thought he kicks the older man out of their shared bed, laughing when he hears the man screech out in confusion. Ten looks at the edge of the mattress and sees Johnny’s head pop up a moment later, his hair a tousled mess on top of his head. A fond smile appears on Ten’s lips.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty, naptime is over. I still have one more thing in store for us.” Ten tells his best friend. The other grunts as a reply, getting up. The Thai boy can see the other looking at him, before turning around and walking over to the closet. Ten rolls onto his back, wanting to give the other some privacy while he put on clean clothes.

Ten recollects the memories he made with his best friend on this day. It was the first Christmas Day they got to spend together, despite knowing each other for years. The years before they’d always had other plans, but this year they had made sure to include the other in their plans. This had resulted in Ten planning out the first Christmas Day for them.

The day started with the younger waking Johnny up with a delicious breakfast he had definitely made himself and not bought at a store, ahem, in bed, followed by their usual morning cuddles.

Then Ten had dragged the other out of bed and forced him to wear a festive jumper, so they were wearing matching sweaters. Johnny did what the smaller male wanted, because he loved seeing Ten happy. Next off, they slowdanced to cheesy Christmas songs, like all normal best friends would do, obviously.

Afterward, they had gone out for a Christmas drink at Starbucks, because Ten was a walking cliché and Johnny loved him for it. Next they went to the park, walking around and enjoying the white world around them, hands intertwined. This was such a normality between them, Ten never even noticed they did it anymore. Johnny, however, was always hyperaware of the other and if his hand was gross and sticky and could Ten feel his heartbeat through his palm?

The walk had ended with Ten throwing a snowball in the other’s face, igniting a war between the two men. Wet and sweating, they had walked to the restaurant Ten had booked them a reservation for. They had enjoyed a quick meal, before making their way back to their apartment, where they had crashed onto their bed, falling asleep soon after, tired from the day’s activities. That brings us to the present.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he hears Johnny ask him. Ten looks up and sees his best friend looking at him, dressed to the T. The older always looked good, but for some reason he looked even better now. A smile appears on his face. “How I beat you during that snowball fight.” Ten replies playfully and gets up.

“Why are you dressed so.. properly? You don’t even know what we are going to do, for all you know we could be going skydiving. Anyway, grab your gift, because we will not be coming back here for that.” he adds soon after. Ten walks over to the other man. Johnny shrugs, not wanting to give the smaller man an answer to the first question. “Let’s just go.” he replies instead.

For their final adventure of the day, Ten had decorated the rooftop of the flat with blankets and pillows and Christmas lights and an outdoor heater while Johnny had been asleep. They take the stairs to the rooftop. A smile appears on Johnny’s face as the pair make their way over to the cosy sitting space.

“I wanted somewhere that wasn’t our apartment for the gift exchange.” the smaller male says, while they get comfortable. Ten looks over at Johny, a smile on his face. “I want to thank you for coming along with me today and letting me do cheesy shit.” he says honestly.

Johnny couldn’t help but smile as well, rolling his eyes. “You don’t have to thank me for being a friend, man.” he says, trying to calm his erratically beating heart. “Anyway, I just kinda want to get this over with because I’m really nervous and shit at this and - yeah.” Johnny continues. He reaches in his back pocket and grabs a bow. He places it on top of his head, trying not to burst into panic-tears.

“Ten,” he starts, not looking at his smaller friend, “we’ve known each other for more than five years and during that time I’ve come to the realization that - well, I think I’ve always known? Yeah, I think I’ve known since the beginning, but yeah - I eh, you mean a lot to me? Uhu, yeah. Maybe more than a lot? The world, the universe. Whatever. God, I’m bad at this, aren’t I? And uh, you asked my why I was dressed like this, right? Well, because of this! And yeah, maybe that was a clear giveaway, but what else would you’ve wanted? Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I love you and I hope you accept me as your gift because I can’t return it, eh me.”

Johnny looks up to see his best friend with a box in his hands and tears in his eyes. “John, you’re a fucking idiot and you suck at confessing, like, you are actually terrible at it. I did all this work to make the rooftop cosy and pretty and you have the audacity to confess that badly to me.” Ten says, gnawing at his lower lip, feeling a little overwhelmed. “But I love you, too.” He opens the box, revealing a necklace with a ring engraved with Ten’s full name hanging off it. “I’ve wanted to do this since we met, but I never knew if you liked me, too, and then we became such good friends, I didn’t want to mess things up.”

Johnny looks at his best friend (boyfriend?) and grins at him. “I’m sorry.” he mumbles, apologizing for his bad declaration of love. “Do you still, you know, want me?” Ten nearly has a stroke because, honestly, why does he even love that giant of a man? “Yes, asshole.” he mutters, shoving the box into Johnny’s chest.

The older laughs and looks at the necklace. He takes it out of the box and hangs it around his neck. “Ah man, now I’m sad, because I wish I’d have gotten you something as well.” He pouts, playing with the little ring that rested over his sternum.

Ten, despite still being a little upset over the others confession, smiles at Johnny. “I’m glad you like it. I don’t need anything, except for you to stop pouting or I might have to kiss it off of your face.” he threatens. He can see a glimmer in Johnny’s eyes as the man keeps on pouting. The younger rolls his eyes at the other and climbs in his lap. “You asked for this.” he says, before slotting his lips over Johnny’s.

Ten feels Johnny’s large hands settle over hips, holding him close. The smaller wraps his arms around the other’s neck, angling his head to deepen the kiss. Johnny opens his mouth, changing the kiss from innocent to a little more raunchy. He lets his tongue swipe against the younger’s mouth, asking for entrance, which he gets. Their tongues meet in the middle and a choked gasp leaves Ten’s mouth.

The younger pulls back a little while later, having explored each other’s mouth well-enough for now. “Let’s head back, we need to make up for the lost time.” he says, trying to sound as confident as he normally feels. Johnny smiles and nods, standing up while he keeps holding onto Ten (how he does it is a mystery, he’s apparently really strong). They walk back like this to their shared apartment. It’s safe to say that they made up for the lost time and that their neighbors didn’t sleep well that night.

#nctincss18 #secret santa #nct #johnny #nct johnny #ten #nct ten #johnten #nct johnten #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct scenario #nct scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop imagines #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios #doppelgangergoat #mp

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katzuyas · 6 years

Text

dazzle me with gold

from the start | ao3 | previous part

That night Yuuri dreams of the moon again, but it isn't the Lady in the sky. It's the old moon, the one that's always watched over him during his nights in the forest. It has always guided him, kept him sane for as long as the curse lasts. It's warm, somehow, even if its light is a silver veil over all that it touches with its cold hand.

Yuuri dreams of that moon and of his paws hitting the ground harshly while he runs: runs faster than the wind and howls louder than it rings in his ears. His heart beats wildly in his chest, but it is only the excitement of the chase, the scent of blood and prey that makes it so, not fear, not despair, not sadness. Somewhere before him, Yuuri knows there is another runner – the chased, whom Yuuri is following after.

He awakens way past dawn without having caught them, but the nightly chase fills his own legs with an ache of satisfaction that he cannot be upset about. It feels fulfilling in a way that having caught his prey always feels like and, despite it not happening this time, Yuuri greets the new day at Victor's side in an amiable mood.

The threat of the full moon hangs on the horizon as it has before, not much has changed in those short hours. There are only days left until the moon becomes round once more, but unlike any other time the monthly dues are near, this day Yuuri does not find himself fearing for what's to come.

In fact, as Victor kisses him over breakfast, Yuuri cannot find a fault in anything: his world is beautiful and joyful, lacking in nothing, pining for naught more than he already has been given.

Yuuri sighs sweetly against Victor's lips, content beyond simple words.

"What is it that you wish to do today, my love?" Victor asks, tucking a strand of Yuuri's hair behind his ear. He is smiling tenderly, cheeks pink and eyes aglow with happiness, and Yuuri cannot honestly wish for anything other than to keep on gazing at Victor like this for the rest of his life.

"Can we just do this?" he asks back. His hand runs through Victor's hair, silver like the moonlight and just as beautiful. "I cannot help but feel like the more I look at you, the more things about you I find to love. Like this, here," he says as he ducks his head to press his lips against the little mole on the underside of Victor's jaw. "I never knew you had it, but it is irresistibly charming. I wonder what else I might discover if I dare look close enough?"

"I keep no secrets from you, darling, but if you wish to explore, hardly be it in me to deny you that right," Victor replies even as his face reddens further at the prospect.

He means to say more, but their moment is broken by Pavel who announces that the Lady wishes to speak to Victor. Yuuri's disappointment settles upon him in a cloud that brings about the end to his happiness and brings the corners of his mouth down, but they do not stay there for long, because as soon as he catches the sight of that, Victor kisses him once, twice, three times... until Yuuri cannot help but smile again and laugh against Victor's heart-shaped smile.

"Go, Vitya, see what she needs." Yuuri sends his beloved lord off with an adoring swipe of his thumb over Victor's neatly shaven jaw. "The sooner you do, the sooner you will get back to me."

"I will only be a moment, my love, I promise," Victor vows.

He leans close to steal one more kiss, this time from the high of Yuuri's cheekbone. It makes Yuuri flush, but brings a twinkle to Victor's eyes and a joyous spring to his steps, which make Yuuri giggle into his hand as he watches him go. Yuuri is left alone when the doors close behind Pavel, who dutifully follows after his master, but it is not so for long, since Ilia returns to clean up after their finished meal.

"You look cheerful today, my lord," the boy comments with a little smile. "Happy things acoming?"

"I'm not certain about that," Yuuri replies, gazing at the door that Victor has disappeared through with a lingering smile of his own, "but I feel... hopeful, you might say. Light. As if my burdens have become less overnight. Does that make any sense?"

"It certainly does. Love tends to make little sense and much of our lives lighter, if it is reciprocated."

It is only because of the colour still present on Yuuri's cheeks from when Victor put it there that Yuuri does not blush at Ilia's words. To hear what he has many a time heard from Victor's lips from someone else, someone who sees them together and alone alike, someone who has no reason to meddle with their affection for each other... Yuuri cannot help but feel Victor's love burn twice as boldly in his heart.

And it fills him with far more happiness that one man can handle.

"I'm going to the library," Yuuri announces as he climbs to his feet, unable to remain seated.

There is a wealth of power inside him that wishes to be unleashed and a brisk walk down the corridors might help to settle it.

"Should Lord Nikiforov ask for me, please tell him of my whereabouts," he asks, to which Ilia only gives a nod and replies, "Of course, my lord."

Yuuri leaves the chambers much akin to how Victor has done so before: his feet are light, his heart is full, and the smile on his face does not wane as he traverses the halls to the golden library doors. The room has not changed since the last two times he's been there, so Yuuri takes his steps to the little sitting area by the windows, where he'd left the most important book in Victor's collection – the Bestiarum Vocabulum.

As he nears the table, Yuuri sees the discarded books that have yet to be cleaned by the servants on Victor's order. He checks the titles and the covers, and then checks again, because surely he must be mistaken. When the second look does not bring about any change in what he sees, Yuuri pauses, breath stuck in his throat.

The happiness he's felt this entire time floats out of him as if it never was.

He stares at the empty spot where he'd left the book that contains all the secrets of his identity and wills himself not to give into the panic, because... because–

The book is gone. And whoever has it, has Yuuri's fate within the palm of their hand.

#yuri on ice #victuuri #viktuuri #vikturi #victuri #my fic #dazzle me #YES HELLO 911 WE HAVE A THEFT HERE #and no I'm not talking about yuuri stealing victor's heart #not this time uwu

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