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lineffability · 10 months

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"Crowley."

Crowley froze, every atom of his body coming to a complete standstill. Aziraphale had appeared out of nowhere, just like that, and he felt like a fly in a spider's web, like he had just run against a glass door that he could not have seen. Oh, this was cruel. He did not turn around.

"Don't even use doors anymore?" He tried to keep his voice level, cold, unaffected. He failed considerably, but the message got across anyways.

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale said, immediately flinching at the words. The first time they were seeing each other again, after-- after that, and his first words were I'm sorry and he was apologizing for not using a door? Aziraphale felt like swearing, but could not. "I thought you wouldn't open if I-- well. I thought this was easier. Like a bandaid."

"Well, you were right. I wouldn't have." Steel was creeping into Crowley's voice, steel around his heart. With a forcing of limbs, he spun around, his gaze piercing through the armor of his sunglasses. Facing him.

"I need your help" Aziraphale said.

"What," Crowley said. He had possibly never put as much meaning into a single word. The glass door turned into a Great Wall. Aziraphale understood. But he was willing to climb.

The angel (oh, a true angel now, wasn't he--not his angel) fumbled, talking with his hands before his mouth even opened. Talking with his eyes, too, but they got lost in translation. Repelled by a black mirror.

"I know this is untoward. I know it's-- But Crowley, I don't have a lot of time."

"Nothing lasts forever, yeah," Crowley spat, hating himself the second the words left his lips. Unnecessary cruelty. Demonic, huh? Worse yet, Aziraphale accepted the verbal lashing. Don't forgive me, Crowley thought.

Crowley looked at him. He was still wearing his suit, there was tartan in it, but it had become polished, the worn edges returned to pristine, boring perfection. He looked prim. Proper. Perhaps this hurt most of all.

"Why are you here?"

Aziraphale glanced upwards. Then he looked intently at Crowley. I don't have much time. Right. He couldn't speak freely, Crowley realized. Of course he couldn't. This was exactly what he had been afraid of, what he had known would happen. His angel in chains. (Yet here he was. Here he was.)

"They don't know I'm here," Aziraphale mumbled, gesticulating weakly between them and Up. "I guess I can divert their attention now, for a bit. Comes with the new powers"--he shrugged helplessly--"but not for long. Crowley, do you know about-- about the-- what they're--"

"Armageddon 2.0? Sure."

There was an undecipherable look in Aziraphale's eyes. "Why didn't you-- well. It's not just. I mean it kind of is--it's. More than that. Crowley, I need you to do something for me."

"No."

"This is important." (This isn't about us.)

"I don't care." (There is no us anymore.)

"You do! You always have."

"Oh not this again," Crowley hissed. "You were an angel once. You can be forgiven. Shut up."

"That's not what I meant."

With two long, angry strides, Crowley closed the space between them. Menace, anger, hurt-- "Then what did you mean?" He spat the words. Like a weapon. (Then why was it a question?)

Aziraphale's face crumbled. He stood his ground nonetheless, not backing away. The angel's anger was less spiky, but it rose to meet Crowley's. It made his next words hit like bricks. "I mean that you love. I mean that you, Crowley, are the best person I know. I mean that I love you."

The words dropped like a lead balloon.

There was utter silence between them.

Why were they so close?

Why were his sunglasses so dark? Aziraphale saw only his own reflection. He couldn't bear that, and dropped his gaze. Oh, worse. There was his mouth, mere inches away.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley's lips, really really looked, and there was nothing more, now that he knew about the feeling of Crowley's lips and of his heart, there was nothing more he wanted to do than to kiss him. But he couldn't, he couldn't. Not like this. He needed the next time (he had to believe in a next time, in a time with Crowley, again)--the next time they kissed he needed it to be good and happy and an affirmation. He couldn't bear it otherwise. He would break entirely. He was sure of it.

But still, still-- Crowley was so close. He could smell nothing but him. Think of nothing but him. That weakness again, that soft spot inside him he had never known how to hold down. And with it, Want reared its greedy head. Aziraphal leaned in ever so slightly, felt their noses touch-- and then used all his strength to move away, to pull back. It was not the right time. Not yet.

He looked past Crowley, who might have as well turned to a pillar of salt. Crowley, whose face was a mask he couldn't let slip. The air flickered between them.

There were tears in his eyes when he finally forced his gaze towards Crowley's face, a silent plead to not misunderstand. Please, please. But he couldn't expect that of him. He was pulling away again. But not because he wanted to. No, there was nothing he wanted more than to pull closer. There was nothing more he wanted than to talk to him, to truly talk, to explain and apologize and make amends, but he was bound by Duty and Rules and Watching Eyes more than he ever had been.

This was his rebellion: he lifted a hand, the ghost of a touch, fingertips against cheekbone. The memory of holding on. Of never wanting to let go. Crowley flinched without moving, a shiver of his lips. Aziraphale let his hand drop, briefly, to Crowley's chest, holding it over his human heart. It was beating just like his.

This was his successful magic trick, when it counted: he drew away, leaving a crack in Crowley's steel-clad heart, and a note in his chest pocket.

"I'm sorry. I need to go."

"Of course you do."

"Oh, Crowley. I--" But he did not finish the sentence, knew there was no proper way how. So he said, quietly, softly, "Trust me, please."

And he did. Crowley hated it, hated it so much, but he did, he did trust him despite it all. But it did not erase the hurt. The festering wound. Now what was he supposed to do with that?

With one last pointed look, Aziraphale vanished.

Crowley was alone.

His defenses lay shattered at his feet, and he slowly gathered them back up. He did not mend the cracks. (That's where the light had gotten in.) He cleared his throat. Tried to banish from his mind the look in Aziraphale's eyes, the memory of his lips and of his tears.

And failed considerably.

I love you.

(Touched his cheek, and then his chest, and faltered.)

[this fic is now also on ao3 and being continued there]

#good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #crowley x aziraphale #in which crowley and aziraphale meet for the first time after the Divorce #oh god ok i really love this???#i wrote it in one go and am posting unedited but #i need this ?!?!?#im also going through the whole 'i wanna know how this continues' vs 'you're the one writing it' idiocy #oh you wanna know how it ends?? then write it??? fool #but i dont know...how it continues....yet.#i do have ideas though...#inefficable #my writing

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syrupsyche · 25 days

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So, I decided to follow along for Dracula Daily this year

And

Jonathan Harker is going on a road trip :D

yeah, he's pretty stoked about it! and even more excited to tell his fiancée all about it soon 😄😄

#i rly wanna do lil analysis for dracula like what i did for les mis letters...#unfortunately im in the middle of finals so that'll have to wait :((#and i've also spent the past 2 months writing a dracula × les mis fanfic so #probably need a bit of a break....#but ill be back!! ill be back....🦇#dracula #dracula daily #jonathan harker #jon harker fanclub #syrup asks #syrup art tag

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thesunisatangerine · 7 months

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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part four

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 4.3k

It didn’t stop after the first and it sure didn’t stop after the third, either.

Depending on her schedule, you saw Alexia once or twice at most a week; most of the time it was on the night after a Barcelona match and by the next morning, she’d be gone before you even woke up. But you’d noticed her visits had been increasing in frequency lately, not to mention that sometimes she’d still be in bed when you awakened. The first time you found her still asleep beside you, you were dumbfounded, thinking it was a dream image of her in front of you. And what amazed you even further was that it kept happening.

It wasn’t an unpleasant development. In fact, it was something you gratefully welcomed. And it wasn’t just that, either. Sometimes when Alexia came over, you didn’t even have sex you just… talked: about her training and her health, her teammates’ shenanigans–and hers, of course–her family and bits of her personal life. Meanwhile you told her about places you explored and showed her photos of where you’d been. Then she’d tell you about places you could check out, food to try, and even went ahead and promised to take you to some of the places herself when she had the opportunity.

These times were rare, sure, but you found yourself enjoying her company more and more to the point you noticed yourself craving for it–found yourself missing her presence despite your constant back-and-forth messages. And still you didn’t ask where this was going for fear of ruining whatever the two of you had; you were content and you just simply wanted to watch this unfold as it was. And anyway, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to fleeting relationships, situationships–whatever you’d like to call it–because who was to say this wouldn’t end up like your previous dalliances–ending before it could ever truly begin? Despite you hoping otherwise, a large part of you already convinced yourself that this wouldn’t be anything different: just another highlight to your getaway vacation that you’d look fondly back on a few years down the line.

You had a month left in Barcelona, maybe an additional few weeks depending on the client. What could possibly go wrong?

———

A knock took your attention from your work to the door. You looked at the time–it was early evening on a Saturday and you weren’t expecting anyone. Perhaps you just imagined it? But then it came again not a minute later. You were reluctant to open it seeing as it was already dark but a ping from your phone that signalled a message from Alexia asking if you were home had you flying to the door.

Upon opening it, you found Alexia there with Nala resting in the crook of her arm, phone in hand, and a paper bag in the other.

“Took you long enough.” Alexia said playfully, all cool and confident but then her brows quirked upwards almost sheepishly as she said in a more tamed tone, “is this a bad time? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

You smiled at her consideration before you ushered her in. “No, no! It’s fine, really! Come on in. Sorry, I just wasn’t comfortable opening the door when it’s dark without knowing who it was.”

“Ah, it’s my bad. I should’ve let you know before dropping by.” She bent down and let Nala loose before she untied her shoes and left them by the door. Nala bounded to the living charged with curiosity, nose to the ground, tail wagging as she carefully examined the new space.

Alexia regarded her dog with an amused expression before she looked back at you. “I meant to bring this over after the game tomorrow but I saw the lights as I drove past so… here I am, I guess.”

You reassured her again as you locked the door behind her and you watched as she made her way to the kitchen. As you passed through the archway to the kitchen room, Alexia already situated herself by the counter taking out glass canisters from the paper bag she brought. When she took the lids off, a delicious aroma instantly filled the air, enticing your senses.

“What do you have there?” You asked as you leaned on the opposite side of the counter.

Alexia smiled at the eagerness in your tone and pride shone in her eyes as she spoke, “only the best fideuà and esqueixada in the world. Made special by my mother, of course.”

You peered into the containers and the sight made your mouth water instantly. As if it remembered that you hadn’t had any food yet, your stomach grumbled obnoxiously. Alexia definitely heard it because she fixed you with an amused smile and at that, your cheeks warmed so you tried to divert her attention. “You know what would put this all together?”

“What?”

“Wine or champagne. Wait–are you allowed to drink?”

“I’m allowed since I’m still not qualified to play yet.” Her visage became somber for a moment–it fleeted so quickly you almost didn’t catch it–before the light in them returned again. “If you have it, white wine is the best complement for this.”

You hummed and tapped your chin, turning to make your way to the cellar. “I’ll have a look. I’m sure Derek has some wine stored in here somewhere.”

You’d mumbled the last part but it seemed Alexia’d caught it because she asked, “who’s Derek?”

Something odd in her tone stopped you and made you look back at her. Her face was unreadable, almost too neutral. She didn’t think Derek was your boyfriend, did she?

“Oh, Derek’s my brother. He hasn’t been here for a while but he owns this house.”

“Ah, I see,” Alexia cleared her throat, looking away and you could just see a hint of redness in her cheeks. “Well, I’ll lay out the plates. I suppose they’re just in...?”

“The bottom drawer to your right and the utensils are in the upper one.” You instructed as you continued towards the cellar.

“Oh, yeah, I see,” came Alexia’s muffled response.

When you returned with the bottle of white wine, you found that Alexia managed to locate the glasswares by herself and were drying them with a tea towel. There was only one set of plate and utensils laid out though so you fixed her with a confused look.

“You’re not going to eat?”

Alexia shook her head. “I already had my fill with my family earlier. I’ll take the drink, though.”

“That’s nice that you visited your family today. How are they?” You sat at one of the high chairs by the counter, popped the wine open and poured each of you a glass. You noticed that Alexia’d heated up the fideuà for you from the steam that rose from its container which strengthened its aroma and made it all the more enticing. Alexia remained opposite you but she was close enough with her leaning forward on her elbows, her glass of wine in hand.

She sipped her wine and told you they were well, described little snippets of what’s been happening in her family life. She even told you about a prank she recently played on her sister, one that nearly made you choke on your wine.

You listened as she talked, liking the way her brows quirked and her shoulders move as she spoke, how each gesture became more pronounced the more passionate or interested she was on a subject. You asked questions and engaged with the conversation every now and again as you savoured the rich taste of the pasta and the freshness of the salad. You’d never had anything like it and you told her as much. In response, she said she’d give the compliment to her mother when she saw her next which made your cheeks warm up again. Once you finished, you tidied up and though you insisted she didn’t have to, Alexia helped you wash up anyway.

Afterwards, the both of you ended up in the living room with your glasses of wine. She gestured at your laptop on the couch with her glass.

“Work?”

“Yeah. Just double checking if I missed anything important and preparing for the match tomorrow.” You sat on the couch and put the laptop on your lap. Alexia opted to sit on the carpet, legs stretched and crossed, back leaned back against the couch, her head just beside your legs as Nala settled by her side.

She turned her head, looking up at you. “Can I see?”

You turned your laptop so she could see better. You flicked through the photos you were sorting through, explaining to her every now and then the thought process behind each shot. On some photos, Alexia asked you to pause so she could soak them in.

“These are great. You have a great eye.” Alexia complimented with an appraising nod as you got to the end. You thanked her as you pulled back. Then a question came to mind.

“Do you ever get used to it? The cameras, I mean.”

A pause.

“I’m not and I don’t think I ever will. I’m more comfortable with it now but if it’s possible to avoid, I’d do it. I know it’s a part of football and god knows how much more exposure women’s football needs,” Alexia released a heavy sigh, “but sometimes it just gets too much, you know? I mean, I really should be grateful, right? To have gotten to this point? But the media side of it is… not without its own set of miseries.”

There was an inflection in her tone upon her admittance–guilt. You gently carded your fingers through her hair, Alexia leaned into your touch in response, and you replied just as softly, “it must’ve been difficult. It still is and for you, especially. And I don’t know if anyone’s told you lately but you have to know: you’ve given so much of yourself already. It’s not a sin to want a little peace, Alexia, and it doesn’t make you ungrateful for wanting it, it just makes you human.”

Alexia took a deep breathe before she rested her temple against your knee. Then you heard her whisper, “thank you.”

A silence fell upon the both of you after that but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. She remained that way for the majority of the night, head against your knee as she watched a game of football on the TV.

By the time you finished up your work, it was already late evening and Alexia’d dozed off beside you. You felt bad as you gently woke her up and groggy hazel eyes found yours when you did. The sight made your heart ache from how much Alexia looked younger and more at peace this way, and you told her to wash up so she could stay the night.

And she did.

Now, your cheek felt warm against her chest despite the slight dampness of her borrowed shirt from her hair. Her skin smelt faintly of the soap you were using and with her arm around your waist, you fell asleep content, lulled to a deep slumber by the steady rhythm of her heart.

———

“Hey, please don’t wear that, it’s dirty,” came Alexia’s reprimand from behind you.

You glanced at her reflection in the mirror: Alexia was propped up on the pillows against the headboard, an arm behind her head, nude except for the bundle of sheets that covered one of her thighs, the marks you’d left on her neck and chest last night and this morning generously displayed for you to behold.

She was nothing short of glorious, you thought, looking relaxed and content like this.

You turned your attention back to your own reflection: Alexia’s Barcelona jersey draped over your smaller frame and fell just partway down your bare thighs. It felt comfortable against your skin and the fact that it smelt just like Alexia made it feel all the more special.

When you looked at her reflection again, you found her with an affectionate smile, eyes lidded and brows inflected slightly upwards, and suddenly the attention warmed your cheeks.

“But you only wore it for a shoot, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hummed, “do you need it?”

“No, I have spares,” she replied before she raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“That means I have time to wash it before I give it back since you insists that it’s dirty.” You said drily as you turned away from the mirror and padded your way to the bed, crawling on the sheets on your knees once you got there.

As soon as you got close enough, Alexia’s hands were immediately on you, guiding you to straddle her lap before she embraced you fully, resting her chin between the valley of your breasts as she looked up at you. You carded your fingers through her hair to see those fair, hazel eyes that never failed to make you shiver.

“I didn’t say you have to hurry. Plus… I kinda like seeing my number on you.” And then she was kissing your neck and you felt one of her hand creeping its way down to cup your ass. You gasped when you felt the heat of her fingers brushing against your core and you buried your own in her hair as she traced a path from your throat to your ear with her tongue, nipping at your lobe when she got there.

“Fuck… Alexia…” You moaned, “you’re insatiable.”

She kissed your shoulder and then she whispered, “only for you.”

———

Something flashed from the corner of your eye followed immediately by a string of whispered curses and a familiar whirring sound. You put your thumb over the line you were just reading so you wouldn’t lose your place before you looked over your bare shoulder to the corner of the room you knew Alexia was who you found, as expected, holding one of your Polaroid cameras.

She was only wearing a pair of grey sweats which left her torso bare and–like all the time you saw her nude–you couldn’t help but appreciate the soft curves of her breasts and the carved muscles of her stomach. When she met your gaze, she smiled almost sheepishly at you not dissimilar to a child being caught stealing cookies from the jar.

You raised a playful eyebrow at her but instead of answering, she placed her eye over the viewfinder, aimed the camera at you, then pressed the shutter again.

The film came out with a whir and Alexia immediately tucked it into the pocket of her sweats. She then began to make her way towards you and at every other step, she’d stop to take a photo of you, carefully manoeuvring the camera to get the right angle as she did so. It was an endearing sight, really, and it was one that filled your chest full of warmth.

Eventually, she ended up on you, turning you over on your back as she straddled your waist, leaving you at the mercy of Alexia and her camera. From this position, you couldn’t help but feel extremely vulnerable and exposed not because of your bareness, but because you knew with the way your chest surged with warmth from how Alexia gazed down at you with a satisfied grin, the dimple on her cheek showing as her tongue peeked out between her teeth at the corner of her mouth, seemingly focused on getting the right shot, that this was a woman who had the power to completely and utterly unravel you.

As a photographer, you were well acquainted with how cameras had the capacity to capture the essence of a moment–to display in raw details the emotions of its subject and freeze them in time, readying them for the dissection and scrutiny of the viewer. You wondered then what Alexia would see written in the shadow, the light, and the colours in the photos she just took of you once she looked at them, and the thought both elated and frightened you.

Alexia brushed away hair from your temple but as she was about to pull away, you put yours atop of hers and turned your cheek into her palm, looking directly at her behind the camera. You heard her breath catch and then she stuttered out a breath, and the flash barely registered in your mind because you were too focused on the strength and the warmth of Alexia’s hand as you pressed butterfly kisses on the inside of her palm.

The next thing you knew, the camera was abandoned completely and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out from your throat when you finally felt Alexia’s lips on yours.

———

Alexia sat on one of the high chairs in the kitchen room, hair damp, a game of football on the mounted TV that was left forgotten in place of… something that you couldn’t quite see from this distance. Alexia’s shoulders were hunched over in concentration and you didn’t have the heart to interrupt whatever she was doing so you leaned on the archway, content with just observing her do her work.

“Are you just gonna stand there or would you care to join me?” You rolled your eyes and you didn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. So much for being sneaky–the fact that Alexia was an accomplished footballer who had crazy spatial awareness occasionally slipped your mind.

“Okay, Gwen Stacy, calm down.” Alexia looked over her shoulder then and stuck her tongue out at you, grinning. “How did you even know I was here?”

“Your reflection on the microwave.” She gestured to it with her chin and sure enough from this angle you were instantly visible especially with the white shirt you had on. The dark glossy surface almost made you look like a ghost.

Standing on your toes, you draped yourself over her broad back, arms wrapping loosely around her neck as you peered down. “So, what are we working on?”

“This.”

A bracelet made of a dark-blue and red string that looped into itself with a singular, small gold diamond-shaped charm right in the middle, a vertical bar at the two corner points of the long edge of the diamond, dangled between Alexia’s fingers. She took your right hand and placed it in your palm so you could look at it: the bracelet was simple but it’s delicate nature made it all the more beautiful and elegant.

“Oh, wow, this is so pretty.”

“It’s for you.” At that you looked at her, half-afraid that she’d feel the way your heart raced at her words against her back.

You were so busy trying to find the right thing to say that you didn’t realise that she took the bracelet back until you felt the warmth of her fingers on your palm as she turned your hand over. You watched her as she wrapped it around your wrist, securing the tie. You turned your right wrist over and looked at the delicate bracelet, and something in your heart soared at the small gift. The fact that Alexia made it herself made it all the more special to you.

“Thank you, Alexia. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

That night while you were sufficiently warm nestled by Alexia’s side, naked except for the sheets, your head on her chest, a realisation hit you.

“It represents FC Barcelona, isn’t it?”

Alexia hummed in answer, the rumble from the sound a pleasant sensation on your cheek. Then she held your wrist in the space between her thumb and index finger, the width of her palm supporting your hand as she turned your hand just so so the gold of the diamond could catch the light.

“And what else?”

At that, you looked at the bracelet intently. The two bars: one and one–Alexia’s number. So she really was serious when she said she liked seeing her number on you.

You let out a small laugh, then you nuzzled her jaw as you spoke, “you little sneak.”

———

Minding her bad knee, you flipped the both of you over with a strength that even surprised yourself and with how Alexia’s brows raised high, you supposed it took her off guard, too. You settled your weight on her stomach and you bit your lip when you felt her abs tense against your core, and the desire in you blazed into a raging inferno that threatened to burn you inside out.

She grabbed your ass in both hands with a firm grip, making you gasp when her hold made you grind against her stomach, her eyes smouldering as she looked up at you.

That look was your last straw; you couldn’t stop fighting your desire anymore so you let it swallow you whole. You fell forward, bracing your weight against your elbows as you craned your neck to kiss Alexia, rough and desperate, her lower lip between your teeth. The action rewarded you with a low moan, a delicious sound that shot heat straight down to your core.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Alexia gasped out between your relentless kisses.

“I like being on top,” was your simple answer whispered hotly against her ear, nipping gently at the soft skin there–teasing.

Then it was your turn to gasp.

Her fingers dug delightfully into your flesh, kneading your ass roughly before easing them apart with equal force. The harsh treatment caught you by surprise and the effect of it even more unexpected as you immediately melted against her, moaning her name helplessly against the crook of her neck.

She knew just how to make a mess of you.

“Hmm, do you?” She asked coyly and then proceeded in a deliciously low voice that oozed seduction, smugness, and sex. “Too bad I’m still in control.”

“Fuck.” Your body answered for you in a full-body shiver. Her words turned you on to the brink of falling and you found no purchase as you slipped from the ledge.

It should be embarrassing how you could come without Alexia even fucking you, and it should scare you that she had this much power over your body but in this moment, when her hands were everywhere but your pussy and her filthy words were whispered hotly in your ear, you could care less. So you fell apart, shaking and weak, as you sank on top of Alexia’s firm and soft body, her name barely coherent from the sobs that came out of your lips. Euphoria lit every nerve in your body as you came, the fabric of your underwear latched deliciously on your pussy like a second skin and you were sure that you’d made a mess on Alexia’s bare stomach.

You only realised Alexia had stopped her teasing ministrations until you heard her thick voice through the haze of the afterglow which you barely caught.

“You came.”

It wasn’t a question, really, but you let out a small affirmative moan because what else could you do? You were mush–the intensity of your orgasm caught you off guard and left you floundering that no thoughts formed in your mind, just pure bliss and ecstacy. But as the veil of euphoria began to lift, embarrassment bled into the edges of your consciousness and with it the instinct to apologise. The words were poised at the tip of your tongue when Alexia moaned.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” she breathed out and when you found the strength to lift your head to look at her, her eyes were lidded, pupils blown so wide they were almost all black.

And then she was pulling you in for a kiss, and then the wet heat of her tongue traced the edge of your ear, and she was nipping at your jaw while she dragged her palms from your ass to the side of your ribs. Your skin burnt at her touch and you could do nothing but surrender, to moan and whimper as your heat blazed anew despite having just been swept away.

“But this time, you’re going to come with my fingers in you.”

She didn’t even let the words sink in. Instead she wasted no time to slip her hand between your bodies and to push aside the fabric of your ruined underwear. Usually, Alexia liked to tease you and ease her fingers in you slowly as she sought as much reaction from you as she could, but the slick she found there must had been enough to satisfy her because she pushed two fingers in as soon as she found you. The thickness of her fingers slid in easily and you nearly screamed her name from the pleasure.

She was relentless in her endeavour to make her words true with the way she gripped your hip steady with her free hand so you didn’t stray too far from her touch when you moved to meet her thrusts, the pace at which she worked her fingers in you left you lightheaded the same way her teeth on your neck worked to drive you insane.

“Alexia, Alexia, Alexia–” You chanted her name like a holy litany, burying your face into her hair that was now slightly damp with sweat and breathed her in: her scent of sun and freshly cut grass, of faint wintergreen, and an essence that was uniquely hers. The moment left you full with something heavy and warm, something that spoke of and hoped for forever, and clarity washed over you: this wasn’t like one of your previous dalliances anymore because you wanted more with her.

The realisation hit you hard, the gravity of it left your mind in a momentary stasis that when you came back to yourself, the shock of your orgasm knocked the breath from your lungs and you felt yourself being pulled by the tide. So strong was it that you could do nothing but pray the flood wouldn’t take you–that Alexia wouldn’t let you drown.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: i think this is the halfway point guys for this one #ik alexia mentioned somewhere that she has dinner with her family on fridays but for this fic's sake i made it to saturdays lol #also i have a backlog of ideas i wanna start writing but i really wanna finish this one first #just a side note this part is 4.3k #so on aggregate this is officially the longest fanfic id written so far.#hope you guys like this and would love to know what you think about the story so far #just a reminder: im tweaking minor details as i go so the most accurate copy of all the parts will be on my ao3 (@thesunisatangerine)#apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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otrtbs · 23 days

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writing tips do not work on me

i wrote about gay wizards art heisting ,,,, the unbelievable dialogue is the least fantastical thing about it 😭

#like who cares? not me because the whole thing is already so absurd #might as well go all in #i think mary once said ahb was camp and ….. scream! yeah …. yeah. i think abt that often #but also love fanfic because u do not have 2 follow the writing rules if u don’t wanna #u can go silly w it #like seriously .. who cares

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maaxverstappen · 2 months

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help me hold onto you | T | 5/12

f1driver!max and streamer!charles

The man– Charles, Max assumes– sounds French. He loves that. He should be used to a French accent, he was forced to converse with Pierre often enough, but it sounds different coming from Charles. More melodic. Almost similar to someone he used to know once. “And that made me think,” Charles says, voice bellowing from Max’s speakers. “That it was stupid that we didn't have carrots before. Like, come on, it's a farming game.” Max has no fucking idea what the hell he is on about.

or: Max is lonely and finds Charles streaming on Twitch.

based on this prompt sent to @f1prompts

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pure-oddity · 8 months

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Fast foodies know the deal

Ghost x reader

(not proof read, this is just fluff straight from the source

Warnings: none, ovulation mention maybe? Its brought up a single time.)

The craving hits around 3 in the morning, it's ovulation week so the idea of not getting chicken nuggets from the drive through makes you want to cry.

You turn towards the sleeping lug beside you. He's on his back, breaths deep and even. Still as a grave but at your movement he takes the arm you had been using as a pillow to drag you further into his side.

Your Simon, took you forever just to get the man to admit he did more than tolerate you. even longer to admit he cared for you. It took you almost using his toothbrush to realize that the man might actually (gasp) like you. That one you didn't push, figured he'd come to terms with it on his own.

As you look at how peaceful he seems you try to fight the urge, you really do, but as you prop yourself up on your elbows and move closer to Simon's ear you resign to begging his forgiveness later.

"Simon, my baby? You sleeping?"

You wouldn't have known he was a awake had it not been for the lone eye opening to check on you

"Was, love. I was. Whats wrong, bad dream? Y' Can turn on the telly to that duck cartoon or the robots - won't bother me none." He rubs a comforting hand up and down your back, he's being so sweet you really do start to feel bad.

"I want chicken nuggets."

Silence.

Both eyes are open now.

The silence continues.

You smile sheepishly.

Wordlessly simon extracts his arm and turns so his back is to you.

"Nnooooooo! Simon pleeeaase. Pretty please? I want chicken nuggets so bad!"

"Go ahead. keys are on the rack, tanks full."

"Nooo you have to take me! come on baby please, for me?"

"My love. Sunshine. Light of my life. If you're hungry i made a perfecly good roast last night. Heat that up and let a man rest."

"I dont want a perfectly good roast! I want chicken nuggets. And a burger. And fries - oh maybe a shake?" You lean over him, hair purposely hung over into his face. He turns quickly and you're nose to nose

"So youre gonna have me get up at 3 fucking a.m. to get you a greasey, artey clogging, cholesterol raising gastrointestinal disaster of a meal - when we have a perfectly good home made dinner in the fridge."

"....please?"

Silence.

A deep suffering sigh.

An ecstatic squee

"Just get your fuckin shoes on"

------

You lean back over into the passenger seat, simon grumpy faced as you insisted that you should be the one to order.

You pat your thighs in glee as he pulls up to the window, gives you a dirty look , and hands the cashier his card.

The second window delivers your meal and drink quickly, you dig in like a starved animal. You're mid chew when he gives a grunt. A snooty sounding eh hem.

You grin and giggle, slowly airplaning him a nugget.

"Give me the chicken or i'll take the whole box"

You squeak and shove it to his lips quickly. His jaws snap around the nugget and it's gone within a single bite - you retract your fingers, still intact but wet with spit.

You give an 'eeeech' and look for somewhere to wipe your hand.

"Any of this ends up in or on my interior and it'll be your arse."

You roll your eyes and reach in the bag for a napkin, knocking the fries over in the process.

Silence.

The car drifts slowly to the left and is parked along the side of the road.

Not a word spoken.

You try to shove as many back into the carton as possible.

He stares at you.

You smile sweetly at him before leaning over the center console and kissing him. You meet his lips, they're stretched into a dangerous grin.

"Love" kiss "did you" kiss "spill salt" kiss "in my truck?"

You might not know a lot, but you know that voice means you're in trouble, which means it's distraction time.

You continue your sweet onslaught of kisses.

"Thank you for taking me baby, I love you so much. ", another smooch

is delivered.

"Youre my person, my favorite guy, love of my life."

He bites at your lip and you barely manage to slip it from his teeth

"Wanna spend the rest of my life with you, grow old with you"

He grips the back of your head and maneuvers your ear to his mouth, in a deep rumble he asks

"Are there fries on my floor, love?"

The dangerous smile still present.

"No of course not baby! i cleaned those up."

"So my truck is fry free?"

"Well - no didn't say that. there's a, a few under the seat"

He's grappling you into his lap now, the man looks a hint deranged.

"And why, my love, are you telling me about them instead getting them?"

he presses.

"'Cause I - hehe - I can't reach!" You giggle out as his hands slink towards your sides.

He pokes and prods at you, growling not unlike a bear while you squeal and squeak out little laughs.

"Gets a man up at ass o'clock-"

"Oh please, you get up early anyway!"

"makes him drive to get congealed grease-"

"you had a nugget too!"

"Then trashes his truck."

"Oh please it's like a handful of fries, I'll get them, i'll get them!"

He frees you with a huff and you dive back over to your side of the car. You pop open your door and hop outside to get a better angle at the underside of the seat. He gets impatient as you fish around for the last few fries, giving a little hurrah as the last one is snatched.

Clambering back into the truck you grin at him, happy as can be. He hums a short laugh, and you're off to home again.

He makes a beeline for the bedroom and you trot over to the counter to finish your meal, most of it having been shared and eaten in the truck. You sit back a moment to enjoy the feeling of fullness when you see Simon emerge again.

"Bed. Now. Kept me up long enough" he's already on you before you can think of a reply, slung over his shoulder. He makes quick work of getting you both situated in your proper spots.

You're snuggled into his side for the night, full and content. He breathes in deep and exhales slowly. you draw nonsensical patterns on his bare chest, playing with the hair there. As sleep overtakes you, your palm flattens over the spot where his heart resides; and you feel him relax just a smidgen more.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #fluff #odd stories #all of this was also written on a phone #so like of formating is weird thats why #simon riley fanfic #simon riley fluff #is it so wrong to want a big beefy grumo to get up in the dark of the morning to get you food???? i think not #is he maybe ooc in this? perhaps. perhaps. do i just wanna write a story in which the man is happy and has a dork of a spouse? ye.#also when i have nightmares i watch one of two cartoons on mute- its either transformers or darkwing duck!#sunshine series

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stuffeddeer · 5 months

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pathetic stalker dazai… SEX. NOW.

hiii anon i don't really write nsfw so the exact terminology is HEAVILY danced around hope thats fine 😭

cw: poorly written pathetic dazai going crazy over the thought of you

mdni PLEASE SLASH SRS im foaming at the mouth

He was so sick, so disgusting... The thought of you coming home early, seeing his current situation and calling him a pervert and a freak just made his cheeks burn brighter, teeth clenched as he continued to inhale your scent. Normally he'd be trailing you to work at this hour, but the idea of your empty apartment was too tantalizing.

Unlocking your apartment door was easy, especially since he's done it before, and resting on the side of the bed opposite where you slept sent his mind into haywire - picturing you sleeping next to him in your thin pajama shorts and loose tank top, imagining as it rode up while you tossed and turned...

Dazai's face was now buried in your pillow, trying not to drool on the cotton casing as high pitched, pathetic whimpers escaped his lips, cold hands bringing him the sensations he'd been craving since he saw you abandon your apartment earlier this morning. He pictured your hands as they made breakfast, lips as they chugged back your caffeine of choice, all of it... even the picture of you wrestling with bed head in the early hours had him moaning softly against your sheets.

Sweat dripping down his forehead, he rolled back over to his the other side of your bed, taking a moment to steady his breathing. With a glance to the mess he just made, he sighed. Cleaning up after was never fun.

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fistfuloflightning · 6 months

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I binge read @ruensroad’s glorious fic A Voice You Hear With Your Heart (belated congrats on surviving NaNoWriMo hon!) and because I am currently incapable of forming coherent thoughts for a review, have a rough approximation of the fic cover I had stuck in my head :D

#AHSKDJSHALSKJDHDHS #I am absolutely blown away #it’s another tiger of hu y’all!!!#murder mystery and detectives and married jiuyuan falling even deeper in love ahskfjsh #so good #ghost marriages are so fun to read/write #I literally have like a whole page of stuff I wanna say about this fic in my head #buts it’s mush when I try typing it out #so just take some visual love 🥰#also had across the sea by lisa van hal on repeat #fantastic track for their journey together #svsss #jiuyuan #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #shen jiu #svsss art #my art #fanfic fanart

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jouyato · 2 months

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I have not finished the game yet (a single route takes so long!!!!) but I have brainworms abt these two so have some good old AU fanart

#Pathologic #Daniil Dankovsky #Artemy Burakh #Burakhovsky #Danya's a bachelor of veterinary science. He's interning in Isidor's ranch to write a postgrad paper on the animals there or smth idk.#And Artemy's a little shit who's there to bother the new twink in snakeskin thigh highs #(Yes it's purposefully ridiculous bc Daniil's in game coat is also ridiculous)#Daniil's very much not a cowboy and Artemy makes sure to tease him abt not being in touch with the southern ranch culture or whatever #All while doing hot cowboy shit to flirt with the new guy #Meanwhile Dankovsky's just stoic but internally having a meltdown on whether it's alright to be flirting with his new boss' son #(oh god are they american in this??? Daniel Douglas and Arthur Brown??)#Anyways once I finish the game (I am on P1 Haruspex Day 9) I will draw and maybe write some fanfic bc I wanna explore canon stuff #but for now AU stuff to feed the worms in my brain crying for content #my art

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invye · 4 months

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I love when (fan)fiction does this thing when a non-magic character first hooks up with a magic character and they kinda expect all this weird kinky magic stuff to happen and they're equal amounts nervous and excited.

And then it just doesn't. Oh sure, there is magic in bed, actual magic, but its the most mundane and unsexy quality of life type of magic ever.

Examples, MCU edition:

Doctor Stephen Strange, world renowned surgeon turned world renowned sorcerer: uses just enough magic to steady his shaking hands so he can feel more confident about touching back.

Wong, the Sorcerer Supreme, highest ranking person in the entire magic society: summons any kind of required supplies with the same casual countenance as if it was a sleight of hand card production trick instead of actual magic.

Wanda Maximoff, fearsome Scarlett Witch, master of the most volitile Chaos Magic: uses telekinesis to pick up the pillow that fell to the floor during the initial shuffle to make herself more comfortable.

Loki Laufeyson, God of Mischief, shapeshifter, alive long enough to have tried everything the Nine Realms have to offer (and some things they don't): only uses his magic to clean up after. Because he's Royalty and cleaning is Beneath Him.

They all know the weird kinky magic stuff is something that has to be properly negotiated first. So non-magic character better be ready for next time---

#feel free to add your own fandoms & ships #i wanna know how this trope manifests in other places #non-magic/magic character #fanfic tropes #magic in bed #never strop dear writers #writing #ships i thought of writing this:#ironstrange #wongstrange #wandavision #lokius #but also all the x reader ships:#doctor strange x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #loki x reader

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essenceofarda · 3 months

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The Three Eowyns from my 1920s Middle Earth au, "A Dance at the Palantiri"!! The White Lady of Rohan, Dernhelm, and a flapper dancer!

aka the three personas of Eowyn that Faramir falls in love with simultaneously without realizing that they are all, in fact, the same person LOL

Fic Summary: It's the 1920s in Middle Earth, and Éowyn just wants to get away. Just for a week, to be able to truly be herself, not just an esteemed Princess of the Riddermark. When she escapes under the disguise of a man named Dernhelm to Osgiliath, by fate she crosses paths with Lord Faramir, an infamous playboy and partygoer, who manages to rope her into becoming a bartender at his equally, if not more, infamous club and bar, The Palantiri. The Palantiri is more than meets the eye, same as its owner, however. Éowyn quickly realizes that the club is not just for people to lose themselves, but to lose their secrets too. There's more than meets the eye of Faramir, too, she finds. Suddenly, Éowyn finds herself neck deep in a years old secret operation in the war effort, and must do so while keeping up the guise of a man.

Trying out and having fun with a different to my usual style "very stylized" style :D

Also should I update this fic?

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celestie0 · 1 month

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when ppl get too caught up in the accuracy of situations in fanfiction or if things are super realistic or as they should/would be in real life etc etc im like. my tumblr user in christ. it's fanfiction.

#ff writers don't get paid to put hollywood level research into their stories lol #also keep in mind ff writers don't have professional editors either #ALSO i've read a lot of published books and watched massive scale high budget production tv shows/movies that have put way less #effort into researching n making sure things are cohesive n legit compared to some fanfics i've read #js thinking ab a m00tie who had an anon come for her for something like this n i'm still pissed ab it #just enjoy the fic you're getting to read for free #like obv i think realism makes for a great story and is part of what good writing entails #but?? it's ok to bend the rules in some places?? it's a STORY #that's like getting pissed at a fantasy book for having dragons cuz they don't exist irl #just say u have a bad imagination n go #the author's pen is the will of the world in the story perioddd #either accept them or dont. but don't make fun of or criticize authors if you're not fuckin w it when ur just sittin behind a keyboard #also sometimes i just wanna read stories that don't remind me of the harsh truths of reality lmfao like get outtaaa heeerreee #just writer things

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venusmage · 3 months

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i think im over astarion but then someone draws him really hot and im so back

#sorry ive been absent. queue will be updated soon my pc is at the shop #so im vibin working on comms on my ipad #no art here #i cant play bg3 and am too tired to draw it so i had to post about it instead #i actually wanna write bg3 fanfic but fandoms this large scare me #bc i want some like. GOOD astarion angst w a friendly pc yk #like i personally think hes a huge asshole theough most of the game and thats fun when ur also romancing h8 #him*

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beanghostprincess · 5 months

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Sanuso Childhood Best Friends AU in which Sanji ends up in Syrup Village because the Orbit has to stop there for a while. They send little Sanji to buy food on his own with a bit of money (or, just, do whatever until he has to meet the crew again. They're a bit careless with the kid) and he meets Usopp when he sees the younger kid trying to steal food from the market. Usopp gets caught easily and the stand owner tells him to go away. Usopp replies with something along the lines of "If you don't give food to the great captain Usopp I will just send all my allies to destroy your business!!!" but it doesn't work (quite obviously) and the guy just ignores him. That just makes Usopp start begging because he doesn't have the money to buy anything and he doesn't want to go to Kaya's again. Besides, he doesn't want to go to the people who usually help him out because it's embarrassing and he doesn't want them to know. It's better to just either steal from this guy or beg. That makes 9 y/o Sanji's heart ignite with a passion and strength he didn't know he had inside, and he approaches the kid, staring intensely into the man's eyes and saying (with the angriest voice a 9 y/o can make) "Food exists to help the ones who're hungry!! You don't deserve this job!!" and the man stares down at him (Sanji's literally shaking, poor boy) saying that food is business and nothing else. And if he doesn't have anything to buy it with, he can go fuck off along with little long-nose. Usopp is amazed by Sanji's bravery and heroic behavior. Sanji hands him some beris, starts listing some stuff he has on display, and buys it. The man just has to give him the stuff, after all, but once he does he looks at Sanji like he's about to murder the kid. Despite being visibly shaking, little Sanji turns around at Usopp, his tiny hands being barely enough to grab everything he's carrying. So Usopp helps him, and they get out of there as quickly as they can once the man starts shouting at them.

They run for a while until they end up finally far enough to not see the man. Usopp is catching his breath when he turns to Sanji. "That was great! I- I could've handled it on my own, of course, the guy was super afraid of me, but-" And then Sanji just- He starts crying so damn loud. Usopp is completely lost as to why he's the one crying, but Sanji is literally shaking like a leaf and Usopp doesn't know what to do. "What's wrong?! I- Did- Did he hurt you or-"

"It was so scary!!" He holds the food tighter to his chest and tries to hold back the tears. "And- And he was so loud- I- Why were you arguing with him, dummy?!"

Usopp is, uh, a bit confused by the change of tone and meaning behind the kid's words. But he keeps crying and crying and shaking and Usopp can't help but feel awfully lost. "And why did you come to help? I had everything under control, you know?!" He really didn't.

"Because I-" He tries to wipe the tears away but they just keep on falling. "I'm a cook. I don't like it when people treat food like this. Especially when people are hungry." That catches Usopp a bit off guard, Sanji calming down for a few seconds before the crying starts again. He really tries hard not to cry. Like a man, or whatever. But his lower lip is betraying him. "He was so loud." Usopp really, really wants to do something to help, but right when Sanji says this, somebody riding a bicycle passes right behind Sanji, so close and loudly it makes him jump and sob harder. He makes himself even smaller. "Make it stop!" And so, of course, Usopp, as the hero of the village and bravest pirate and warrior of the seas, he takes Sanji's hand and leads him somewhere the older kid can't see because he refuses to open his eyes. But Sanji asks anyway, with the softest and smallest voice ever. "Where are we going?"

Usopp squeezes his hand. "You're a cook, right?" He turns his head around to Sanji, but doesn't stop walking. A huge grin shows up on his face when he sees the kid nodding. "Then you're gonna have the privilege to cook for the great Captain Usopp!"

And-

Usopp swears to this day that he will never forget Sanji's laughter at that moment. "A captain?" And it's like all his worries suddenly faded away with the simplest of lies. Usopp doesn't know if he's being genuine or if he's making fun of him, but the kid's smile makes his hands sweat. "Then I better make a meal worth of a king!"

Long story short, Usopp takes Sanji to his home and lets him cook in his very lonely and depressing kitchen. While the kid works, Usopp can't help but stare at him with impressed eyes. Sanji, on the other hand, has never felt such a rush when cooking for somebody. Not ever since- ... Mom. They talk about that too. They learn everything about each other. Usopp tells Sanji about his dad being a pirate and his mom passing away not long ago. He tells him about how the village and his best friend Kaya help him out most of the time, but he refuses to keep being so dependent on them, even if he has to beg strangers. He tells him about all of the adventures he's had and how people call him a liar out of jealousy. Sanji often believes what the kid says, being the naive kid he is, but he's smart enough to always think twice and realize that, okay, Usopp's stories might not be true, but if they make him happy, then they make Sanji happy too! If his dreams are told in the form of lies, it's kind of like Sanji's wish to find the All Blue. And so he tells Usopp all of that too. He skips the whole, um, family thing to talk about his dream. He tells Usopp about wanting to be a cook because of his ill mom (something they have in common!!). He tells him about his abilities in the kitchen! He keeps saying he'll be the best cook in the east blue!

It's nice having a friend. Usopp thinks Sanji looks really young for being two years older than him, and Sanji complains about Usopp being taller when he's younger. But it's nice, after all, to be with somebody who doesn't want to take anything from you.

Sanji's food is surprisingly good for a kid his age, and he's really glad Usopp likes it because he's been practicing for a whole year with the crew! Even if he makes the simplest of dishes, he's really proud of himself when Usopp won't stop praising him!

One thing leads to another, and when Sanji's crew finds him, they tell him they have to stay for a long while because their ship needs repairing and it's pretty grave. Sanji wishes he could say he's disappointed and sad, but he looks behind him at Usopp, and it kind of feels exciting to stay.

So they grow closer.

Sanji is always going back and forth between his ship and Usopp's home, but he barely spends time with his crew the days he stays in Syrup Village. Most of the time he even sleeps with his new friend! Sanji cooks for him and borrows money for them to buy the ingredients, explaining to Usopp everything that is to know about them. Usopp, on the other hand, is awesome at fishing, so they spend whole days at the beach trying to catch their food. It's the most fun they've ever had in their life. Usopp stops feeling lonely, and Sanji finally finds somebody who loves him for who he is. Usopp shows him beetles and insects and finds out that they make Sanji cry... He isn't proud of this, but sometimes (only sometimes) he places bugs on Sanji's way so he can save him. Sanji calls him his hero with the shiniest of looks, and Usopp just- He feels really warm inside. Sanji is always going to his crew to ask them about new recipes and things to learn while they're there, and he always makes them for Usopp because every praise about his food goes directly to his heart. They just keep on enjoying each other's company and many talents. Usopp even introduces him to Kaya! She's the cutest girl Sanji has ever met (not that he has ever met other girls besides his sister) and he's a bit jealous because it's obvious she likes Usopp, the guy just doesn't notice! If little Sanji isn't sure of who he's jealous of, that's something he refuses to think about.

"We're best friends." Sanji once says.

That gives Usopp the courage to respond with: "Then, when I become the bravest pirate of them all, you'll be my cook! You- You will, right?"

"Of course!" Sanji doesn't think he has ever smiled this much in the short period of time he has been alive. "Captain Usopp and the best cook in the East Blue- No! In all the seas!"

Loneliness is a word that now feels foreign to them.

But then, of course, Sanji has to go.

They promise to see each other again. They will, someday.

Sanji asks Usopp to come with them, though, but Usopp refuses.

"Come with me, Usopp! It's your chance to become a pirate!" (Don't let me go).

"I- I'm already a pirate, Sanji! Did you forget? I need to stay to protect this village from any harm and evil pirates that aren't like me!" (I'm so scared that not even wanting to go with you helps my legs move).

"But you said I'd be your cook!" (You promised).

"You'll always be my cook! And I'll always be your-"

"What kind of captain lets his cook go?!" Sanji yells, but he's the one crying the most.

"Sanji! Please! I- I'll do it. I'll sail someday and we'll see each other and we will be together but- But not now." The shame in Usopp's voice is obvious, and he can't tell lies from promises anymore.

"But I- What if-"

"I'll find you. The sea will bring me to you, don't worry! I told you I'm so good at fishing because I can speak their language, right? I'll just- I'll just send you messages through the sea! Just talk to the fishes and they'll tell you all you need to know. I'll always be with you!"

That, at least, makes Sanji laugh. "Liar. I know you can't speak-"

"But I'm not lying when I say we'll see each other again! Really! Believe in me!"

And Sanji has no other option but to believe.

Usopp tries to live years and years without regretting his decision that day, failing miserably. And Sanji keeps trying to talk to fishes even if he knows it won't work. He even asks some of them to save him (to tell Usopp they might not see each other again, at least) when he's stuck at that damn rock with Zeff, but they don't do anything. They don't even talk back at him. But he keeps believing for a while.

Until someday a gorgeous pirate asks him: "You're not in any crew, right?" Because she apparently wants him to go with her. And he would. He really would. But he owes too much to Zeff. So much he can't give it up. Not even for a girl, even if it hurts.

Her question is more painful than denying her the pleasure of being her cook, though. Because he has to respond with: "Huh? I- No. Had a captain once, though... Not that it matters now. Just- Not anymore."

When Luffy asks Usopp to come with him, he can see the shape of their long-lost best friend in Kaya's eyes. She always knew there was more between them than what they wanted to admit, but then again, they were just kids, so she couldn't really know at the time. Usopp hates having found out so late about it, but now this is a chance he won't waste. He can accomplish his dream and fulfill his promise at the same time!

And they do find each other, earlier than Usopp was actually ready for. Sanji drops a glass of wine when he sees him. Usopp basically trips and falls over the table and makes Zoro's food fall on his lap. Sanji's eyes never move away from him.

There's a long silence and a few weird looks being shared between the rest of the crew, but Usopp can't help but smile. He's extremely scared of what Sanji might say.

"I told you I'd find you, didn't I?" He tries to sound confident, but his voice falters.

Sanji can't stop smiling. "Took you long enough, captain."

Nami almost chokes on her food. "CAPTAIN?!" And the other two share the same startled expression.

But Usopp doesn't look at them. He's still over the table. It definitely looks ridiculous. "You- You're taller."

"And your hand is ruining my Quiche Lorraine." Sanji groans. "Could you not-"

"I'm sorry! I- I'm sorry. But don't speak to your captain like that!"

Nami interrupts him. "I thought you were lying when you talked about this guy!"

Oh. So he has talked about me. Sanji pretends he isn't forcing his heart to slow down.

So he just smirks at the redhead. "To be fair, madame, even if he tends to lie a lot-"

Nami rolls his eyes. "No shit, I figured."

But Sanji keeps going looking at Usopp. "Even if he does, he also keeps his promises."

By the way, you have to imagine them like this:

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amugoffandoms · 4 months

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Woo!! It's time! It's time for the gift exchange!! (@milgram-valentines-exchange) Happy Valentine's Day to @mrcrazyvillainvillainn!! I had such a fun time writing your gift!! Truly gotta let Mahiru and Mikoto be silly and happy! I really hope you enjoy!! I've never written a ship fic for any of the prisoners, so I guess we ball?? (Also, let me know if you want the art without the titles!!) JIAWODJIAOW Anyways, here we go! Please enjoy...

do i dare love you? (i have always loved you)

Is this selfish? This isn’t too much, is it? I just love you so much. How long would this dream go on? I guess we can just say that this feeling is happiness~ Do you really think you know what love is? You don’t have to keep it in and hide it away. "I love you", the reason why I'm here This is how "I" will love "you"! --- "To be honest, Mikoto Kayano didn't know what to expect." "Mahiru Shiina fixes the flowers in a bouquet and hands it off to the customer." (Mikoto Kayano and Mahiru Shiina love each other in the smallest of moments.)

To be honest, Mikoto Kayano didn't know what to expect. Getting a mysterious call out of the blue? Well, ah… That’s sure to scare him.

No, no, everything’s fine. No need to resort to anything crazy.

Mikoto exhales and splashes some water on his face. Turning off the sink, he looks up at the mirror and flashes himself a smile.

…ah, okay, that was a little embarrassing. Mikoto laughs to himself as he walks out of the bathroom and back to his desk.

He drums his pen against his desk as he moves his mouse around to turn his computer back on. Placing his head on his hand, he scrolls through emails and emails.

…

It’s just the same emails. “Fix that.” “I liked the original design better; can you do it again?” “The deadline moved. Make sure your designs are ready for–”

Ping!

Mikoto blinks and glances over at his phone.

New Message: make sure to come soon!

Right, yeah. Mikoto has to head back home soon. Okay, he should really get a start on his work so he can head home early!

Sitting straight, Mikoto pulls up some designs on his computer and grabs the small stack of papers.

With one more glance at the ideas given, Mikoto starts designing.

Mikoto leans back in his chair and slumps back. The design… is done! This is where Mikoto pretends to hear a soft achievement noise. Ding!

Anyways, Mikoto exhales and looks at the papers on his desk. The design is nice! One of his finest designs, actually. He flips through the papers and nods to himself, happy with the result.

In the corner of his eye, he notices his boss and quickly waves him down. The second his boss looks at him with a small smile, Mikoto realizes his desk is an absolute mess.

Ack–! Why did he leave his energy drink can here? Oh, these papers need to be in a folder–

Right after Mikoto finishes rearranging his desk, his boss finally makes it to his desk.

“Chief! I finished the design you wanted me to make!” Mikoto hands the stack of designs with a small smile. His boss blinks, clearly surprised at how fast Mikoto finished the designs. He flips through the small stack, checking each design.

His serious expression seriously doesn’t tell me anything… Mikoto internally groans.

“Good job, Kayano.” His boss places the stack underneath his arm. “These will probably suffice for our client. Do you have other designs that need to be completed?” “Ah, um–” Mikoto looks around at his desk. He doesn’t think he does. “...No…?’

“Oh?” His boss asks, surprised for some reason. Hey, Mikoto knows how to finish his work if it isn’t being constantly changed! “Ah… Alright then… I guess you…” His boss looks around the office. “...Actually, it looks like everyone is preoccupied.”

Mikoto shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Please don’t give him more work. Please don’t give him more work.

His boss lifts his wrist and looks at his watch. “Hm… It’s seven. Earlier than I would like to let anyone out.”

Oh, please. Please. Please-!!

His boss sighs. “Alright, Kayano. You may head home early today. I’m only doing this because you’ve got most of your work under control and I unfortunately don’t want to bother your coworkers with giving you their work.” You would anyway, but you seem to be in good spirits today…? “Thank you, Chief!” Mikoto smiles. “Don’t expect this often from me. Have a good night.” His boss turns right around and walks away, going over to a different cubicle. Mikoto watches as his boss walks away and pumps his fist.

Woo! I’m free! Mikoto grins to himself as he packs his stuff into his bag. Standing up, he shuts his computer off and looks around. To be honest, he feels really bad for his coworkers…

But, he promised to get home as soon as he could. Mikoto glances at his phone, specifically that one notification.

make sure to come soon!

He doesn’t want to break his promise. So, with a quiet exhale, he walks to the elevator and clicks the button to go down. The elevator doors open.

He walks in.

…

“…oh, I forgot to press the button to the lobby–” Mikoto mumbles as he quickly clicks the button down.

Mikoto hears the key click in the lock and turns the doorknob. As he walks into his apartment, the lights are all out.

“I could’ve sworn I left the lights on…?” Mikoto mumbles as he takes the key out of the lock and shrugs off his coat. He slowly walks through his apartment, fumbling for the lights.

His hands land on the switch and Mikoto flips the lights on–

Arms wrap around Mikoto’s neck. Something makes Mikoto twitch. “Surprise~!”

Mikoto jumps.

Mahiru laughs above him as Mikoto lies on the ground, dazed. “Ma– Mappi???” Someone relaxes.

“Hehe~ Did I scare you?” Mahiru giggles, absolutely beaming. “A… a little, yeah!” Mikoto dusts himself off. “I think I hit my head… Ow…”

Mahiru’s laughter immediately stops. “Ah– did I hurt you? Hey, let me see–” Mahiru quickly kneels on the floor and scoots next to Mikoto. “No, no. I’m okay, I promise– Please don’t worry!” Mikoto gives a weak smile. “Let me just look, okay?” Mahiru says, with a soft voice filled with concern. (Her voice is always soft, but these moments, they're just a little bit more comforting. Maybe it’s Mikoto being too detail-oriented recently, but he’s decided to notice the smaller things.)

Mikoto swallows. “Okay.”

She looks at the back of Mikoto’s head, checking for any bumps or bruises. The moment is silent as Mahiru looks all over Mikoto’s head for anything and Mikoto sits there, quiet.

To be honest, he doesn’t want to say anything. He doesn’t want to ruin it. It’s… those small moments, right? When you know someone loves you. Those are the moments you want to hold in your hands because they’re so fuzzy and warm.

“I love you,” Mikoto whispers.

There’s a pause. Mahiru stops checking his hair. Her hands are still. She’s not moving.

Did he ruin it? Maybe he should apologize and–

“I love you, too,” Mahiru whispers back.

And, they’re back to silence.

Mahiru scoots back in front of him. “You’re okay. Nothing too bad, okay?”

She says it with a voice that makes him know she cares: a warm, loving voice. It makes him want to cry just because she loves him.

And, he loves her. And, he'll make sure she knows that.

“Okay,” Mahiru says, her voice oddly strained. Is… is she about to cry? “Um… Okay, I made some food for you. I– I know you don’t usually like big gestures and I really shouldn’t push myself, but… I think you deserve it, okay?” “Okay.” Mikoto nods. He stands up and gives a hand to Mahiru, who takes it with a small giggle. “Hehe, this feels like a fairy tale~” She hums.

“Hey, can I…?” “Eh? Do what?” Mahiru asks, with a tilted head. “I mean, whatever it is, I don’t mind~”

Mikoto places a small kiss on Mahiru’s cheek. “Ah–!! Hey–! Oh–” She’s red, blushing from ear to ear.

Mikoto laughs. “That was payback.” “Oh, you-!!” Mahiru has an angry look, but her smile says otherwise. “Fine, fine! That’s fair. Okay, come on, let’s eat~ I don’t want our food to be cold!” Mahiru grabs Mikoto’s hand in hers, trying to drag him over to the table.

Her hands are warm. Mahiru quickly pauses as she looks at Mikoto and their hands. “Is everything okay…?” Mikoto nods.

“Everything’s perfect.”

Mahiru Shiina fixes the flowers in a bouquet and hands it off to the customer. “Have a good afternoon~” She grins.

As the shopkeeper’s bell rings to show the customer has left, Mahiru sighs and melts into the counter. “Shiina…? Are you alright?” One of her coworkers asks as they walk over. Mahiru mumbles something into the counter. “Uh…” They laugh. “Okay, I’m guessing you’re not okay. Um…”

Mahiru keeps her head on the counter as she hears her coworker’s footsteps slowly disappear.

Mahiru sighs. She’s really tired… She wasn’t able to get any sleep last night. She doesn’t even know why. She just couldn’t sleep. A lady like her should be getting her beauty sleep!

Oh, well… She’ll just have to brave the storm!

Mahiru quickly lifts her head up and instantly gets hit with a fit of dizziness.

Ah, that was a bad idea…

As Mahiru quickly blinks away the dizziness, she notices her boss and coworker walking over.

“I wasn’t doing anything–! I mean, I was doing something, I promise!” Mahiru awkwardly laughs as she waves her hands around defensively. Her boss shakes her head. “Mahiru, you can head home. We don’t expect that many people today, and you seem tired. I can cover whatever is left of your shift.” “Ah, but–” “I’ll pay you for your full shift, alright? Just head home.” “Okay.” Mahiru hesitantly nods and takes off her apron as she heads to the break room to grab her stuff.

When Mahiru returns with her belongings, her coworker hands her a small bouquet with lilyturf, dahlias, forget-me-nots, and red lilies.

“I know you’ve enjoyed taking these kinds of flowers home recently, so here you are!” As Mahiru opens her mouth to speak, her coworker continues, “And, don’t worry about the charge. I already paid for it.” Mahiru blinks, taking the bouquet and looking at it. “Ah… Oh. Thank you.” Mahiru smiles at the flowers.

“Of course! Now, rest well!”

Mahiru smiles at her coworker before leaving the store, the shopkeeper’s bell ringing behind her.

Mahiru hums as she enters her apartment and quickly walks over to her table near the couch, grabbing water from the kitchen. She places her bag on the floor next to the couch.

Sitting on the couch, she pours some water into a glass vase. Then, she places her bouquet in the vase.

Mahiru looks at the bouquet for a few moments, admiring each flower.

When she yawns, she finally lowers her head on a pillow and slowly…

Closes…

Her eyes…

There’s a smell of food cooking in the air. She feels warm.

Mahiru slowly blinks the sleepiness from her eyes and looks around.

…why is there a blanket on her…? Is someone cooking?

Confused, she pushes herself upright and glances at the kitchen.

Mikoto.

Mikoto is cooking.

“Huh…?” Mahiru blurts out, sleepy and confused. Mikoto looks over at Mahiru. “Oh, hey! You’re awake! Sorry, I tried calling you, but you were asleep. Um, so I let myself in with the spare key!”

Mahiru glances at her bag on the floor and quickly picks it up. Opening it, she searches for her phone. When she finally finds it, she turns it on and sees the notifications flood her lock screen.

3 Missed Calls

10 New Messages:

hey, mappi ^^!!

i’m off from work so i’m coming to visit!

Ah wait you might be at work

Go back to work!!

i think your door is locked??

hello?

mappi??

i’m letting myself in, ok?

oh dear where’s your key

found it!! Coming in now :D

Mahiru rambles as she stares at the notifications, “Ah– I didn’t realize you were calling. I’m so sorry, please forgive me–”

“Hey, hey. It’s all good!” Mikoto smiles. “You were tired, so I let you sleep. I grabbed a blanket from your closet. Hope that’s okay!”

Mahiru nods and sits there for a moment, not sure what to do.

She glances over at the table, spotting the bouquet. She looks at Mikoto, who has a smile on his face as he tries to cook some soup.

She knows why she likes getting these flowers.

They remind her of Mikoto.

They remind her of how much she loves him.

She loves him.

“Hey, let me help you, okay~?” Mahiru sings as she hops up and skips over to the kitchen. “No, I’m okay. I can cook, see?” Mahiru looks at the small pot Mikoto is using to cook soup.

It’s… hm… not the best soup…?

“Just let me help you, alright?” “Alright, alright.” Mikoto, stepping back, raises his hands. “Show me what you want to do.”

Mahiru quickly slides in front of Mikoto and glances at the pot. "Can you wrap your arms around me?"

"Eh–?" Mikoto coughs in shock. "Yeah, yeah– Um…"

Mikoto quickly wraps her arms around Mahiru and looks over her shoulder as he tries to stir.

“Mhm~” Mahiru hums. “You’re stirring a little too harshly. Relax, okay?” “Alright.” Mikoto slowly stirs the soup. “Still too tense. Okay, hold on.” Mahiru places her hands on his. “Okay, now… We’ll do this together, okay?”

Mikoto is quiet. Mahiru takes that as his yes.

Mahiru, with Mikoto’s hands in hers, slowly stirs the soup. She murmurs some small compliments.

Mahiru lets go of his hands and smiles. “See, you’re doing it now!” Mikoto breathes a sigh of relief. “Is it better? Honestly, I really couldn’t tell the difference.” “Hmm… Well, I guess there really isn’t.” Mahiru shrugs. “But, I think the amount of quiet, slow care you put into something will show itself." She's made herself learn that love can be soft and strong. Ever since her last boyfriend and she broke up on... amicable terms, she's tried being better. For love, and for who she loves. “I see.” “...I know it really doesn’t make sense. I’m sorry.” Mahiru shakes her head and slides out from in front of Mikoto.

“No, no. It makes sense, I promise.” Mikoto looks over at Mahiru with a smile. “It shows that you care.”

Mahiru smiles back.

After a few moments with Mahiru helping Mikoto cook, they finally eat together at the table.

“Mappi?” Mikoto fidgets with his spoon. “Hmm?” Mahiru hums, food in her mouth. “Thank you.”

Mahiru blinks and just nods. “Y-yeah, of course…!”

Ah– That was so embarrassing…! Not at all lady-like! I should’ve just…!!

“I really don’t cook often, so that was really helpful. Haha…” Mikoto rubs his neck with a smile. “I mean, I do cook! It’s just… noodles and stuff.” “Well, now you know how to cook one more thing!” Mahiru smiles.

“Yeah.” Mikoto looks at Mahiru with a loving smile on his face.

His smile is so sweet. He even tries to do stuff he’s never done before for me! Ack… My heart can’t take it–!!

I love you.

Mikoto stares at Mahiru before laughing.

“E-eh?? What did I do??” “Nothing, nothing. I love you, too.” Mikoto grins.

…she said that out loud…

Mahiru is instantly embarrassed. She feels warm again, but she’s not wearing a blanket. “Oh… Ah–” “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s sort of cute, I think…?” Mikoto rubs his neck. “Ah– If you say so…!!”

The two of them continue eating when Mikoto suddenly speaks up again. “Hey, did you mean to make you help me feel like one of those scenes from a movie…?” “E-eh?? No, no, wait– Ah. I really didn’t, I swear!!” Mahiru frantically shakes her head. Mikoto blinks, seeming to realize Mahiru is a little panicked. “Hey, no! I thought it was sweet–!”

Mahiru awkwardly laughs. “I’m glad you do… Um… Maybe I was subconsciously inspired by something…?”

“That’s okay.” Mikoto shrugs. “Everything you do is sweet.”

Mahiru beams.

“If it’s for you, I’ll make sure it’s worth everything.”

#mug writes #mug draws #milgram #milgram project #mikoto kayano #kayano mikoto #mahiru shiina #shiina mahiru #milgram fanfic #milgramvalentine's2024 #milgram valentine's exchange #we're going to have some afterward notes so let's see uhh #the notes are more detailed on ao3 so you can also check int out there lol #i wanted to have small references to what their crimes were #so you can see John pop in for a moment because he believed Mikoto was about to get attacked but once John realized it was Mahiru he relaxe #I wanted Mahiru and her boyfriend to break up amicably because their relationship is really crucial to Mahiru's character #I think actually beans' break-up fic they wrote was REALLY good and was what I was thinking about when I wrote that #I wanna say that Mahiru and Mikoto are both trying to get better at the things they messed up at #They should go to therapy actually /j #I wrote this before Mikoto's interrogation came out so that marriage question came flying back at me #he probably hasn't accumulated a “track record” yet to make his own business but i'd say mahiru might get him to quit early and go work #elsewhere because of how much his job is putting him through #Mahiru checking Mikoto's hair was supposed to be Mahiru carrying Mikoto to the couch but I didn't know how to write it without making it #awkward so I'm sorry wome #Looking back on it I think I realized that the lines that end both sides of the fic kinda...#go straight back to MILGRAM but trying to be better?#Everything's perfect - Mikoto said his life was fine; that he had done nothing wrong (An unconscious lie)#Here you have Mikoto actually believing he's doing okay; that he's fine and everything is okay #And while work is a hassle at least there's some aspect of his life that he connects to #If it's for you I'll make sure it's worth everything. - Mahiru wants to love perfectly she wants to love because it's the reason she elives

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