Hermione/Oliver - There is only one bed - Speedrun Prompts
for @thestanceyg
Rated T
There is only one bed - Accidental Cuddling
~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione had gone to sleep with her book open. It had slowly been lowered over her face as she fell asleep. In fact, the only reason Oliver even noticed she’d drifted off was that she started ruffling the pages upon exhaling.
Chuckling to himself, Oliver reached over and took the book from her, carefully marking her spot with the bookmark that had fallen down between them, and sending the book to the bedside table. He tugged the comforter up over her before getting settled on his side of the mattress.
Rain pelted the windows, and he briefly considered casting a silencing charm on it but thought better of it. The sounds of the rain were soothing. And honestly, they both could do with some soothing.
Oliver rolled over to face the opposite wall and extinguished the candles before stuffing his wand under his pillow and pulling the blanket up over his shoulder.
He wasn’t fully aware he’d gone to sleep, it felt as if he simply closed his eyes and opened them again to the sun shining.
Hermione’s curls were in his face, not choking him as he half-expected, but sort of just softly laying there on her pillow and right in his face. More noticeable than even her hair was the fact that she had his hand in hers, their fingers laced, pulled up between her cheek and the pillow. As if she was using his arm instead.
He let out a breath and ruffled her hair, shifting and realizing rather quickly that he was curled around her side, knees bent into hers and everything. Also, his arm was asleep, which would make extraction rather difficult. He’d had cuddly partners before, but Hermione wasn’t his partner.
Not in that way. Not that he’d kick her out of bed if she wanted to be there. Hell, they fit together pretty well, now that he was noticing. But he’d rather if they were both conscious for it.
He tried not to move because there was no freeing his arm without waking her up, and he needed just a second to figure out what his next move should be. His other arm was no help either, stuffed beneath her pillow, seemingly ignorant of the fact that this was a rather large bed, with plenty of room for the two of them without all of this… cuddling.
“Oliver?” Hermione whispered.
“Hmm?” he replied.
She swore under her breath. “I was hoping you were still asleep…” She released his arm and scooted away from him and back to her side. It seemed as if they had equally moved during the course of the night, winding up somewhere in the middle.
“I just woke up,” he said blearily. “If that makes it better.”
She pressed both her lips together and pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Sorry.”
“About what? You can’t control what you do when you’re sleeping.”
“Oy, You’re supposed to say you’re sorry too!”
Oliver chuckled. “I’m sorry too, Hermione. But it was bound to happen… surprised it hasn’t happened before, actually.”
“Agreed,” she said, straightening her legs. “It wasn’t… terrible.”
“That’s me,” Oliver said, stretching his arms over his head and yawning as he continued, “Oliver ‘Not Terrible’ Wood.”
“You know what I mean,” she said with a smirk. “I’m not talking about the actual… cuddles. Those were quite nice. I simply meant the… accidental nature of it all.”
“Agreed,” he said with a smile. “Not terrible at all.”
“Might even want to try it on purpose one of these days.”
“One of these days?” he repeated, trying not to sound like he was waiting with bated breath for her response.
“Today, this day, right now?” she offered, her smile crooked and a little wavering. As if she didn’t expect him to agree.
“Agreed,” he replied, smiling broadly, with it widening into a grin when he saw hers do the same. He scooted back down under the blankets to shift back into position. “Ready when you are.”
RULES: post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it.
Tagged by @beckyh2112
*recoils* Like... all-all? No, wait, it says “in your wip folder” Phew. *shoves 45-page document of summaries, snippets, and titles behind back* Hahaha. That’s fine. *counts number of partially-started things with their own file* Fine-ish. *ruthlessly cuts the bottom half of the list* Nothing to see here. Ahem. Where was I?
Secrets
April Wedding
The V Word
Castle of Vladliostro
Pregnancy in Arranged Marriage
Huh.
Unexpected Police Procedural
Her Alibi AUs
Aftermath
Anabelle in the Dark
Sing Muse of the Passion of the Pistol
The One Where the Way to Noxian Civil War is Through Their Stomachs (Hopefully)
Overlap, AKA Alternate Universe Shorts
Epilogue 2 Big Arranged Marriage AU
Sugar Mama Lite
Tam Lin AU
Badgerstreak and the Three Nobles
Alpha to Grayscale
I’m tagging people, but don’t feel obligated if you’re not interested, otherwise occupied, etc.
👻 Have you written holiday-themed fics? If yes, which is your fave? If not, what’s one holiday you’d want to write for, and which character(s) would the fic be for?
I have! I did a couple of Halloween-themed fics for the Darcyland Discord last year, a few of which are super near and dear to my heart:
Taste Your Beating Heart, which is probably the Wish version of @idontgettechnology's Seven Hundred and Eight Dollars but I love Darcy as a tarot reader and I love Steve hating Las Vegas and getting stoned like a true Millennial. (There's smut in this one!)
As chords do from the string is one that I might rewrite and turn into a submission for some Halloween writing challenge out there because it was super super fun to think about what it might feel like waking up as Frankenstein's monster and eventually it got me thinking about how big Harry Treadaway's dick probably is
Finally, She of the Water because it taught me about my last name and also I'm very very gay.
(One more because i secretly hope you'll like one of these): Darcy x Clint; Darcy works in a bridal shop. Clint is the maid of honor, but Darcy thinks he's the groom. She is torn between kissing him and kicking his ass when he hits on her.
Darcy couldn’t help the rage that flashed across her face before she shoved her retail mask in place. It was only a brief moment, but the guy definitely caught it, visibly froze, and leaned away.
“Did I say something wrong? Because I thought we were kind of flowing with the jokes about pizza and showing you pictures of my dog?”
She wasn’t sure he meant to end on a question, but his voice had definitely gone up an octave when he finished talking. And it didn’t help smooth her temper at all. Yes, she tried to be friendly with all customers for the sake of her paycheck, but damn it. She really had been flowing with him and she knew better. Now she wasn’t sure if she was really angry with him or herself.
“Clint,” the bride all but purred as she suddenly appeared at his elbow. “Don’t be an idiot. Well, you are one, just not about that. She thinks you’re the groom.”
“What?!” he practically yelled, looking frantically between Darcy and the stunning redhead next to him. “Why?”
“Uh,” Darcy paused, not sure why he would be upset at the idea of being with the gorgeous woman. “You’re kind of here with a bride and I don’t know many men who are this actively involved in dress shopping unless they’re the reason for it.”
He stepped away from both of them to flail his arms at them, the room, and everything in general it seemed.
“I’m the maid of honor!”
“Oh.”
“She’s like my sister!”
“Okay.”
“I’m not the groom!”
“Yeah, got that now.”
“I would never marry her!”
Darcy looked at the woman, noting that she didn’t seem to take any offense if her too-knowing-for-comfort smile was anything to go by. But it never paid to have scenes in the shop, so she tried to bring the freak out to a close.
“I feel like this might be getting a bit personal here.”
“Right. Okay.” Clint’s voice finally stopped climbing to a higher range and he took a deep breath.
The bride, who Darcy now remembered was named Natasha, sent them another cat-ate-the-canary grin, patted his shoulder, and sauntered back to the dresses.
“So...” he said, before letting out a strangled chuckle and rubbing the back of his neck. “Glad to know it wasn’t me. Or my pick-up line.”
“Oh, no, don’t get me wrong, your pick up line was terrible.”
“Uh...”
“But your enthusiasm is now appreciated. And now that I know you’re not the groom, we can continue to flow later at dinner.”
He visibly perked up and she couldn’t help the flutter her heart gave at the clear excitement on his stupidly handsome face.
“Where you’ll tell me all about how you became the maid of honor to a woman you’re clearly terrified of.”
His expression shifted a bit to embarrassed, but it didn’t dim the smile he gave her.
“Right? Like, I love her, but I feel like she might eat me alive sometimes.”
Fic you won't write meme: Darcy/Bucky title: The Lady Disagrees
When Bucky lets Steve catch up to him (okay, so it's more like he just happens to be in Sokovia when Ultron gets all genocidal and decides to help out) he's still far too aware of the threat of his trigger words and tends to keep to himself as much as possible. He's quiet, polite, and keeps all his emotions bottled up inside so as not to get too involved with anyone ‘just in case’.
The only person he lets in is Steve, and the only other person who can get any sort of emotional response from him is Sam. They bicker *constantly*.
Darcy has long since finished her degree, following it up with a masters in international relations, and a short course in publicity. She's taken a job with the Avengers Initiative PR Department and has a talent for finding the good spin in even the most disastrous missions.
Barnes’ presence at the Avengers Compound is a surprisingly well kept secret, but even the best secret gets out eventually.
In anticipation of that day, Darcy is given the job of presenting the Winter Soldier's story, except she's having trouble finding it. Barnes won't talk to her - he won't cooperate, no matter how hard she tries to make it easy for him.
She's at her wits end and ready to admit a reluctant defeat when one day she wanders into the middle of a bicker-fest between Barnes and Sam. She’s concentrating on a document she’s been given to analyse and absent mindedly interjects her own opinion on whatever it is they’re disagreeing about.
Her opinion just happens to be the same as Sam’s - ie the complete opposite of the one Barnes is supporting - and for the first time he speaks to her.
Except it’s less speaking and more impassioned diatribe.
She’s never seen Barnes like this before (he’s not one for socialising) and a metaphorical light bulb lights up in her brain.
No more Ms. Nice Darcy!
With a little help from Sam she begins a twin-pronged campaign - firstly, after a particularly untalkative session regarding his public image she throws a tantrum, calling him an ungrateful asshole and refusing to work with him anymore.
Secondly - and this is where Sam helps out by feeding her suitable topics and letting her know where they are - whenever she finds herself in the same room as the reluctant superhero, she picks fights with him. It’s minor disagreements at first - vanilla is better than chocolate; coffee needs milk and sugar to make it palatable, that stuff you drink is disgusting; baseball sucks, you're still an asshole - but soon the arguments extend to forbidden topics such as whether Star Wars is better than Star Trek (and then the need for him to watch them).
It takes several months of this before Darcy realises he’s pressing her buttons just as much as she’s pressing his.
It takes a few more months for her to realise that she wants more than just arguing with him all the time.
It takes the arrival of a top secret document (sent by an anonymous informer from Secretary Ross’ office) for her to realise that she’s falling (fallen?) in love with him.
It takes an explosion in Vienna and the public presentation of The Sokovia Accords for her to realise she doesn’t want to lose him.
I love so many of these, but I think I'm going to say #103: “I feel like a freakin’ soccer mom.”
(kind of borrowing something from a previous fic of mine but what can you do?if it fits, it sits)
Darcy was muttering to herself as she put away the way too many and specific groceries, and maybe shutting the cabinets a little too hard, but she couldn’t be bothered.
“Next time, they can do it their-fucking-selves,” was met with metal clang as she slammed a stack of baking pans onto the counter.
Sure, she could have placed an order through FRIDAY, but she was already at the store (she just wanted some peanut butter cookies), when her phone was started to get pinged by various Avengers and lab personnel and if she could just grab that one thing, “that would be great.”
And, of course, she did, because she’s Darcy and way too fucking nice sometimes.
“I feel like a freakin’ soccer mom,” she spat as she glanced around at the remaining food items, mentally cataloging where they needed to go, while simultaneously pulling together her own ingredients for those damn cookies.
“At least I don’t have to drive them around to Avenger practice,” that was punctuated by dropping the jar of peanut butter back onto the counter.
“Hey, Darce! Ooh, you did get chips! Thanks, man.”
She didn’t even look up as the chips were picked up, she was making sure she was adding just the right amount of sugar.
“Whatcha making? Oh, please tell me it’s the peanut butter cookies? Those are so go-”
Her head snapped up and she furiously pointed her peanut butter covered spoon at him, flinging little bits of the stuff everywhere. “No.” She pulled the bowl closer with her other arm. “Mine.”
“Uh, are you oka-” He asked as he opened the bag of chips.
“Leave.” She pointed towards the door with the spoon. “Bye.”
Wide-eyed and looking a little afraid, he backed towards the door as he took a chip from the bag. “Yes, ma’am.”
To be fair, she had warned him. The text message left no room for argument.
“Make sure your alone tonight.”
So when Fitz answered her skype call that night, he shouldn’t have been surprised to find her spread out in front of the camera, the only thing covering her was the sheet from her bed.
“What’s wrong Dr. Agent?” she asked, amused by his dumbfounded expression. Fitz shut his mouth with an audible click.
“Absolutely nothing at all.” he replied, jumping up from the bed and triple checking the hotel door. He knew, logically if any of his companions wanted in, not even that little key card could keep them out, but he wanted to air on the side of caution.
Read on Ao3
When he returned to the bed, he was pleased to see the sheet was gone and she had rolled back, propped up by the pillows against the headboard.
Fitz was a little giddier than he’d care to admit. He was practically pubescent at the moment, breathing a little harder from his sprint back and forth to the door and watching the screen, eyes wide, like he’d never seen a pair of breasts before.
Darcy seemed particularly amused by all of this. Fitz was excited though. This was something new for them. They didn’t get to see each other much, what with his always moving around and her distaste for S.H.I.E.L.D. in general, so it was nice to have these moments to themselves. This, however, was the first time they’d attempted something like this. They had been intimate before, but never over the phone or computer. Fitz liked trying new things with Darcy, she had a way of making things he never would have considered sound enjoyable.
Fitz had finally settled down, stripping off his shirt and pants when the worst happened. Their phones buzzed simultaneously, alerting them to work obligations.
“Looks like we’ll have to reschedule.” Darcy said, sounding put out by the interruption.
“What, no, let’s just ignore them.” Darcy looked incredulous and Fitz sighed. “Alright fine, call me later.”
