#Sorry for not citing this properly but I just woke up after a one day long migraine attack | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

Coffee & Meetings

Relationship: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Innocent!Reader Warnings: stalking, drugging TW, manipulation, Summary: Prequel to Pastries & Memories - Bucky sees you day after day at a bakery and decides you’re just perfect for him. All from Bucky’s POV. A/N: someone suggested this on ao3 and i really liked that idea so I hope i did it well! I am thinking about expanding this to a bit of a mini-series... :)

Masterlist

Six months earlier…

He first saw you on a Monday. A bright, sunny, lovely Monday morning. He hadn’t even been looking for you — hell, he hadn’t really been looking for anyone.

Bucky was planted at a little table in the corner of a coffee shop, sipping on a dark roast, watching people come and go on the sidewalk. It had become his new morning routine, an interesting yet annoying suggestion from his therapist. She had become concerned he was too into his previous routine. She wanted him to step out of it for a bit, expand horizons, maybe even find a hobby. The craziest thing he had done yet was this — drinking overpriced coffee at a local shop.

He had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Sometimes he looked forward to this new start to his day. Everyone at the shop was always nice to him, amazingly. They didn’t mind him dilly-dallying, nursing his coffee, as he people watched. They even had a bakery attached which was part of the attraction to the place for Bucky. He had smelled their pastries one morning and was hooked.

As Bucky sat watching the people, he was contemplating getting an almond croissant to go when something caught his attention. From the corner of his eye, like a little flash, he had seen someone that made him perk up.

It was her. It was you. You were standing in front of the bakery entrance debating on going in. You looked between the coffee and the bakery sign. You checked your phone then you walked in. Bucky watched as you entered the bakery, your face bright with the kindest smile he had ever seen as you greeted the cashier. He didn’t have to hear your voice to know it was contagiously joyous.

You were like a little tease standing around all those baked goods, flicking your hair over your shoulder as you pointed at which donut you wanted. Bucky suddenly felt hungry for something else. Especially when you bent over to point at the strawberry glaze on the bottom row.

But then you were gone as fast as you had come. He watched you from the window as you got back on the path to wherever you were headed, he guessed your job. Your hair blew in the wind. Your skirt bounced as you walked proudly, your hand grasping the box of donuts tightly.

Oh, yeah, Bucky thought, this new routine was definitely what he needed.

***

You quickly became the most exciting part of Bucky’s day.

With his cup of coffee and hawk-like gaze, he’d sit at the little coffee shop table, watching the world outside the window. You’d come strolling by fairly early, looking so classy and professional. He figured you worked in an office which seemed very unnecessary for a girl like you. You didn’t need to work, he decided. You were too beautiful, clearly too bright, for that.

But you never seemed to recognize this yourself since you were constantly strutting past in your blouse and skirt, stopping in every day to collect some new pastry for your coworkers.

The way you talked to the bakery staff was what really won Bucky over. You were so gentle and patient when the kid behind the counter fumbled with the boxes or accidentally grabbed the wrong item. You’d still shoot them your lovely smile and make light conversation as they rang you up.

You were too generous, especially noted by the strawberry cake you had purchased one more for your work. Whoever was on the other end of your kindness better appreciate it, Bucky thought. He also didn’t miss your obvious love for strawberries.

Bucky watched you for a while, almost for two whole months, in that coffee shop seat drinking in every inch of you. The baristas didn’t seem to mind his lingering. He always made sure to order two cups as some sort of compensation for letting him sit there and watch his girl. Yes — his girl, that was what he had marked you as in his mind. You hadn’t noticed him yet but Bucky wasn’t sweating it. All in due time, he silently promised you.

It took Bucky a few days to gather what was needed. You still weren’t noticing him but he was way past being bothered by that. He had been screwed by life enough to know that sometimes you just have to take what you want. Sitting around waiting and hoping was for men who had patience. He was over it. Little worked out for him so now he had to make it work.

The morning of the commencement of the plan, Bucky stood in his kitchen double-checking the items needed. Content with it, he carefully drew up the correct amount of light sedation into the syringe. It wasn’t anything crazy and apparently affected the mind first, body second. You’d be on autopilot for a bit, walking more like someone who was just having a rough day. But that wouldn’t be an issue because Bucky would be there. He’d be able to escort you to his apartment, simply appearing as the concerned, protective boyfriend among the sidewalk pedestrians. He got a bit giddy just thinking about it.

Moments after you were properly sedated, he’d need to administer you another drug in a timely manner. This one would be focused on memory loss. He’d discovered it on some corner of the black market while originally on the look for types of sedation. Apparently, this drug was part of some sort of failed spy mission in Europe. The seller swore it boasted good results, citing studies conducted. Bucky looked into it and agreed. After some clumsy navigation in the world of online shopping, it was his within a few days. The concoction seemed like it would do that job.

The goal was to pretty much scramble your brain just a little bit. Nothing crazy like making you totally forget key components of yourself but still hit a point where you didn’t have enough to fight Bucky’s word on, well, anything. This drug wore off, though, so he would have to come up with ways to get it in your system over the course of your relationship. It was still worth it to him. He wasn’t stripping you off your personality, just some little details here and there. You’d still be his shining girl, just only now focused on him.

The final items laid out were various feet of rope. Bucky was being overly cautious with this. He didn’t know if anything actually was going to work. What if you woke up and realized you weren’t in your apartment? That you were being watched over by a stranger? You were bound to panic but he understood that. If need be, he could restrain you while he figured out the right way to go about it all. It would never be to hurt you, of course — in fact, he felt it was more for your safety than anything.

After another run of the mental checklist, Bucky gathered the syringe and headed out to the coffee shop. The idea was fairly simple. After you came in for a box of pastries, he’d head out behind you, try to chat you up a bit. He had some old moves he could flex. Once you got comfortable enough, he’d make the move and then lights out. By the end of that day, you’d be making yourself comfortable in his apartment.

Bucky practically fawned over the idea as he walked. He had taken some steps earlier in the week to add some things for you in the apartment like ladies’ toiletries and new outfits. He had even finally purchased a real couch. All for you, so you could have a home. A real home. With him.

Bucky was still lost in his daydream as he sat in the coffee shop, looking between the clock and the window. He waited and waited and waited. The syringe growing heavier and heavier in his pocket as the seconds went by.

The clock struck a new hour. Something Bucky never planned for was unfolding: it didn’t look like you were coming today. He almost about lost it there. Almost went into the streets stomping away in anger. Everything was perfect, how could you just be the only missing piece? Did something happen? Were you okay? Gosh, he should’ve got to you sooner—

Your hair suddenly came into view. You were walking furiously, just glancing at the bakery this time before deciding not to go in. You looked anxious which certainly wasn’t like you. He wanted to crush whatever was making you feel such a way. But Bucky had to snap his thoughts back. You weren’t coming into the bakery. He wouldn’t be able to follow you out, to casually build-up to this moment. His heart was pounding. He panicked.

In a moment of stupid impulsivity, Bucky quickly left the coffee shop and began racing to catch up to you. He took long strides, quite amazed by how fast you walked in those heels, but it didn’t take him very long to now be right on your tail. Few more steps and he was able to pop up right in front of you. You jumped at his sudden presence. Bucky smiled, finding you so amusing.

"Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but I think you dropped something." He lied through his teeth so gloriously, way too easily. It was just the right comment to get you to stop in your tracks but didn’t completely scare you off.

Your brows furrowed, adorably confused. You looked down, searching for whatever it could be. "I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think I did."

Sir. The word stuck with him a bit. Maybe after some coaxing, you could always be calling him that. Bucky didn’t have much time to think about this, though, as you began to step around him. You had taken his moment of silence as a way to evade him. Smart, but frustrating. A mix of annoyance and anger shot through him. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into him quickly. You let out a yelp in surprise. He ignored it and before you could ask any questions, the syringe was plunged into your neck. To outsiders, it looked like a couple in some weird embrace, but to Bucky, it was just the beginning of something beautiful.

He got you back to his apartment fairly easily after that. You were eventually out cold and the next step of the process could begin. He was pretty much banking on the memory loss solution. Not a very religious man, Bucky still said a silent prayer as he administered it.

He took a step back from his bed, watching you look so at home knocked out on it. It was a wonderful sight, one he was saving in the back of his mind, even though he’d now see it every single day. Feeling quite content with how smoothly that all had gone, he had nothing to do now but wait for you to wake up.

Bucky took this free time as a chance to begin cutting off connections you had. Thankfully, your bag held your laptop along with other necessities like your phone and wallet. He was pretty thankful he wouldn’t have to try to get into your work to grab your devices. That would rely too heavily on whether or not you overshared. No one would believe he was the concerned boyfriend if just last week you ranted about how single you were.

Sliding onto a stool at his kitchen counter, Bucky set up your laptop. The first thing he noticed was your lack of password. You were too trustful, too good, and that was only example A. Bucky suddenly felt so relieved he had you in the safety of his apartment. There were lunatics out there.

Bucky navigated your laptop fairly easily. While he was pretty new to the technology scene, he could at least find the basics and you weren’t exactly running some government-level device. With a few simple taps and clicks, he was writing out messages to your boss and family.

He put in your letter of resignation, something short and vague, to your boss at the public relations firm you were an assistant at. Lower level work, not even anywhere near the big dogs. No wonder you constantly brought in treats for everyone. You were hoping your kindness would get you ahead. Bucky shook his head at your naivety.

A simple Google search showed him you were not the only assistant to the head of the firm. You probably wouldn’t be missed. The pastries, maybe, but you? An assistant? Someone would take your place within the week. Bucky was turning out much better for you than he had realized. He mentally patted himself on the back as he moved onto looking into your family.

Scrolling through your email contacts, it appeared you only had a sister for immediate family. No mentions of parents and… sure enough, another search brought up an obituary for your mother. No mention of a father. Even better, he thought. You needed that strong, guiding force.

A few scrolls through your current email thread with your sister and Bucky found out she was studying abroad. Could this all get any better? Nothing was in the immediate area of a threat. He responded back to the last email your sister had sent. Copying your language the best he could, he dropped some hints that you wanted a vacation. In just a few more exchanges he could drop the news that you were off in paradise. Correspondence could easily fizzle out and your sister would be too caught up in her European dream to notice an absence.

If this ever called for any more attention, Bucky figured he could easily invite her over. It’d take some training but you’d eventually remember your sister — or, what Bucky would plant in your head about her — then you’d happily host a dinner. Introduce your two favorite people to one another. He bought himself enough time to spend with you.

Of course, Bucky realized he got very lucky with you. He had done some minimal research beforehand but everything had been behind sign-in walls. He didn’t know if he was really ready to break into social media and instead decided to risk it. If all had gone to shit, like you having a real big, caring family or a prestigious job, there wasn’t anything a little talking couldn’t fix.

But Bucky had also kind of already knew you as he watched you day in and day out. He had felt that dire need to be comforted, to be loved, to be cared for, to be protected behind those cheery smiles and generous small talk. You always tried too hard as if you needed everyone in the world to love you, to praise you. That wasn’t it at all. You just needed him. And he needed you.

Lost in his dreamy thoughts, Bucky nearly jumped out of his skin (leave it to you to be the first person to actually scared him) when your soft voice called from the bedroom doorway.

"Excuse me," You said, nervously fidgeting as you slowly walked from the hall into the kitchen. "W-What’s going on?"

Bucky shut your laptop quickly and hopped down from the stool. He gave you a warm smile which you seemed to try to return. So obedient and caring already and you didn’t even know why — yet.

"Hey, doll," he said, keeping his voice steady and gentle. "You okay? You laid down for a nap earlier. I was worried you were getting sick." He placed a hand on your forehead pretending to check your temperature. Thankfully, you allowed it. After a moment, he pulled his hand away with a curious hum.

You frowned, obviously confused, much more than you were earlier. You looked totally clueless at the situation. It was the best reaction Bucky could’ve ever hoped for.

You glanced around the living space. "I- Yeah, I think I’m alright… I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember much. Who are you?"

Bucky chuckled, "I’m your boyfriend. Bucky. And this is our apartment. You remember, don’t you, honey? Maybe you’re just still a bit sleepy."

He watched as you blinked a few times, probably wrestling with whether to admit you really didn’t remember anything or to go with the lie. If you were a good girl, like he predicted, you’d settle with the lie.

"Oh." You bit your lip and eventually nodded. Jackpot. "Of course. Again, I’m sorry. I must’ve been really tired." You glanced over at the clock. It read just before noon. "I’m a bit hungry. Would you like anything, B-Bucky?"

He smiled. "A sandwich would be great, doll."

You nodded once in acknowledgment then began hunting for everything you needed in the kitchen. You looked a bit confused at first but slowly Bucky saw you get the hang of it. He took his place at the kitchen counter again, sliding the laptop out of your sight.

He sat there waiting and observing as his new girl began making him lunch. It was a sight he had dreamed of, but Bucky also knew this was too perfect too soon. You were bound to stumble within time but that was okay. He would have to fine-tune the details later but he was already complying some ideas on how to shape you into who you were destined to be.

Yes, he had a long way to go, but it would all be worth it if he got to come home to you standing in his kitchen whipping up a special treat like the sweetest housewife to ever exist. Because that certainly would be the next step down the line — making you his darling wife.

156 notes · View notes

vgckwb · 2 years

Text

Danganronpa: Away Chapter 4: Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me (Part 5)

I woke up the next day. I always liked sleeping in, but recently, I’ve come to like sleeping in general. I tend to get lost in my dreams, and I forget I’m here, which is a nice feeling. Except for when I’m having nightmares. However, I do have to wake up and face reality sometime.

I got ready, and I headed down to eat breakfast. Duke seemed particularly excited. I mean, he was teaching next, and he was really adamant about getting to teach, so I can see why. “So, are you excited?” Duke asked.

“I guess…” I answered. Duke looked at me weird. “I’m still tired, OK.”

“...You’d think getting up early for as long as we have would help you get used to it,” Duke remarked.

“Well, I’d argue the general stress of this place might hinder that,” I replied.

“Hmmmm,” Duke pondered. “You might have a point.”

“Well, I know I’m excited,” Monobird said, butting in.

“Oh!” Duke said, a little shocked. “Uh, well, to be honest, I think you might know what I’m going to be teaching…”

“Really?” Monobird asked. “I’m not in the forensics department, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’re pretty high up, aren’t ya?” Duke said. “You oughta know a thing or two, right?”

“Maybe?” Monobird said.

“I’m excited too,” May chimed in.

“Really?” Duke asked.

“Yeah. I can’t wait to see how you ruin this too,” May laughed.

“HEY!” Duke said. “I take offense!”

“You should,” May shot back. “I meant it to be offensive.” She giggled some more.

“Ugh! Can you PLEASE save your lover’s quarrel for after I wake up more?” I said. I then realized I said it. I sighed. “Man, I’m tired.”

“‘Lover’s quarrel’?” May questioned.

“Oh, yeah,” Duke said. “Justin here thinks I like you or something.”

“Really?” May said.

“Yeah,” Duke answered.

“How dense are you?!” Tammy asked me.

“Now now,” Pierce interrupted, “let’s hear him out. So, Justin, who DO you think this nightmare couple works out?”

I was confused. “How am I the only one that sees this?! I don’t even know how to explain this properly. But like, you know sometimes, two people might fight with each other, but they actually like each other, and just don’t want to admit it. It’s like that.”

There was a bit of a silence. “You really see that here?” Andy said, breaking the silence.

“Alright, look!” I said, getting mad. “How is me and Cassy, the most nothing thing, obvious to you all, but this clear lighthearted jabbing that will turn into something more not obvious?”

“Do you really want us to answer that?” Jay asked.

“Yeah, cause there are like at least five things I can cite for each,” Annabelle continued.

“Ugh!” I said, frustrated. “Just forget it. I think we’re already on thin ice in terms of the motive as it is. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I went back to eating, and trying to ignore everyone else.

After I finished eating, I got up and said “I’m sorry. I know this whole situation is frustrating for all of us. I just let it get to me for a bit. I’ll be in my room cooling off until class starts.” I walked out of the dining area and headed back to my room.

I slumped myself on my bed. Had the pressure of everything finally gotten to me? Everything felt like a fog. I just want to leave. But I can’t leave unless I kill someone. I’m not that desperate…am I?

Just then, I got a knock at the door. I went to open it up. “Pierce?”

“Hey,” Pierce replied.

“What are you doing here?” I asked

“I figured you could use some help,” he answered. I stood silently, not saying anything. “You’re right, this is hard on all of us. I don’t think anyone is mad at you for snapping like that.”

“I am…” I retorted.

“Well, that’s beside the point,” Pierce said “Look, we all have our moments of weakness. And honestly, I think we’re allowed to. We’re teenagers after all. Show me a well-adjusted teenager, and I’ll show you a bootlicker at best.” I was still pouting. “You’re fine. We’re all in this together. Don’t let this moment ruin everything.”

“How could this get ruined even further?” I responded.

“Well, sometimes, it’s nice to see the glass half-full,” Pierce said. “And yes, while the emptiness is particularly striking, we can’t let it bring us down completely.”

I sighed. “Fair enough, I guess… Thanks.”

“No problem,” Pierce responded.

“But um, could I just chill by myself a little longer?” I asked.

“Uh, sure, I guess…” Pierce said, sounding unsure.

“I do feel better,” I assured him, “but I just want to rest a bit more.”

“Sounds fine then,” Pierce said. “I assume you’ll join us for class?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Great. See ya then,” Pierce said. He left, and I closed the door. I flopped back on my bed and started thinking again.

This whole situation is fucked up beyond belief. A crazed killer who wants all of us dead. So far, their plan seems to be working. Six people have died at the hands of this madman.

But Pierce is right. Just giving up is also what this lunatic wants. So we have to hold onto whatever silver lining we can.

But sometimes it feels like the wire is going to snap. What do we do then? I guess hang on, but it’s hard… Hopefully we can figure this out soon.

A thought then occurred to me. Maybe this motive might have more merit to it than I had imagined. But do I…? Well, I’ve encouraged others… Maybe I should take my own advice.

Just then, I heard the announcements come on. Annabelle chimed in. “Good morning. We are now on Day 2 of between 7 and 14 before the motive kicks in. For this morning’s class, our teacher, Duke Hunter, has asked us to join him in the chemistry lab. See ya there.”

I sighed and got up. “Maybe after lunch…” I left my room and proceeded to head into the chemistry lab.

I thought I would be the last one there, but when I sat down, the lesson didn’t start. Then I heard someone coming from the hall. I turned to look, and it was Annabelle. “Sorry. I had to come from the third floor…”

“It’s fine,” Duke said. “Just take your seat.” Annabelle did as such. “Alright, for today’s lesson, I’m going to teach you how to clean blood.

All of us were confused. “Told ya he’d ruin it,” May said.

Sophie raised her hand. “Yes, Sophie?” Duke asked.

“Um…why?” Sophie asked.

Duke stared at us for a minute. “...Do you want the real answer?”

“If possible,” Cassy responded.

“...Very well then,” Duke said. “I’m afraid to admit, my motive here is selfish.” We were confused again. “I was already blamed once for a murder. I don’t want someone to look up how to clean blood, kill someone, and when the blood is cleaned, I get blamed, because I’m the only one who would know. I mean, apart from Monobird, that is.”

“Uh, yeah, why do you think I would know how to do that?” Monobird asked.

“Because you're a cop,” Duke said.

“Again, I’m not in forensics…” Monobird reminded him.

“Yeah, but as a cop, you probably accidentally, or purposefully, shot someone, and needed to clean it up quickly,” Duke rebutted.

Monobird looked at him. “You don’t have a positive view of law enforcement, do you?”

“I’m a teenager, what do you think?” Duke asked back.

“Need I remind you, us cops are giving you food and supplies,” Monobird shot back.

“Yeah, thanks,” Duke said. “Now, when are you going to do something about the psychopath keeping us in captivity?”

“...We’re working on it…” Monobird said sternly, but also somewhat defeated.

“Well then, in the meantime, let me teach my lesson in peace,” Duke said. “Ahem. So, the first thing that’s important is making sure you clean the stain as quickly as you can. Otherwise, you can use hydrogen peroxide to get rid of a tougher bloodstain. But f you react quick enough, detergents should get it out. Um, let’s see, what else…” Andy raised his hand. “Yes, Andy.”

“Um,” he began, “why does hydrogen peroxide work on blood?”

“Huh,” Duke responded. “That’s a good question, actually. Ya see, hydrogen peroxide, or H2O2, is an oxidizer; which means that when it combines with certain things, such as blood, it breaks them down. Hold on. This is actually a bit of a complicated process. Let’s start from the beginning.”

Duke then proceeded to teach us about some of the basics of chemical reactions, and how they work. While I was a little familiar with some of it, a lot of it was new, and honestly it was very interesting. When Duke is in his element, he’s really engaging.

Duke looked at the clock. “Ah shoot, has it been an hour already?”

“I’m afraid so,” Monobird said.

“Well, shoot,” Duke said. “And I have to wait until the next rotation. Well, I hope you had fun, despite the little detour.”

“You know, honestly, I did,” Sophie said.

“Well, that’s all I could ask for,” Duke said. “Anyways, class dismissed.” He left the classroom.

A few others did as well. I was on my way out when I saw Cassy stopping Andy. “Ummmmm,” Andy said, nervously.

“You…didn’t know how hydrogen peroxide works?” Cassy asked.

“Oh no, I did,” Andy replied. “I figured I could probably give him a gentle push into talking about chemistry on a broader level though. Since, um, I…wasn’t entirely interested in talking about blood for an hour.”

“I see,” Cassy said. “Good job.”

“Thanks,” Andy said. They left as well. I left too.

We kind of hung out a little bit until lunch time. Lunch was a bit quieter than usual, or maybe I was just too focused to pay attention. I had some ideas rattling around in my head, and I wanted to figure it out. I was ready to give that stupid bear and his psychotic puppet master what they wanted, but not in the way that they expected. Not in the way anyone expected, really.

I was the first to finish my food (so maybe I just wasn’t paying attention), and I went to put my dishes away. When I got back out, I heard Annabelle shouting. “Justin!”

I turned to her. “Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about something else, you know.”

She smiled. “I get it. So, are you excited for my class this afternoon?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” I replied.

“Great,” Annabelle responded. “I’ll see you then.”

“Right,” I shot back. “In the meantime, I’m going to be working on something. So, um, I guess if you really need me, that’s OK, but I’d rather not be disturbed.”

“That’s fine,” Annabelle said. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard something in her voice. I didn’t think much of it though.

“Thanks,” I said. I headed back up to my room. I got out some paper and a pen, and proceeded to write out some of my thoughts. I don’t know what I was looking for, but for a while, I knew what I was writing wasn’t it.

I sighed. I was trying to figure out how I felt about Cassy. A part of me still wanted to deny any sort of romantic feelings, but even if I didn’t want to admit it, I knew they were there. It’s just…being in a situation like this isn’t ideal for a romantic proposal. Still, I had to try.

I had to try because I knew it would help. If I could get over this motive, then surely anyone could. Although with the numerous factors, this was easier said than done.

Still, I felt myself getting closer after a certain point. I think I figured out something, and I just needed to push on from there. Figuring this out almost felt like a trial. I just need to find a truth, latch onto it and keep going from there.

Eventually, I think I landed one something I felt OK enough on. I took a deep breath. I knew that when I walked out of the door, I’d have to confront my feelings. “I can do this.”

Before I left, however, I heard the PA system come on. Right, Annbelle’s class. But the thing I heard coming out of the speakers wasn’t Annabelle’s voice. “BANG! BANG! BANG!”

“Th…those were gunshots…” I reacted, horrified. I left my papers in the room, and ran out.

I hurried to the announcements room. I was not the only one who heard it, since I ran into Cassy, Andy, Sophie, and Jay in the hall. “Was that…?” Sophie wondered.

“We don’t have time,” Cassy said, seriously. The rest of us nodded, and then rushed up the stairs.

We approached the announcements room, and soon enough, everyone but Annabelle was with us. We knew what that implied, but we didn’t want it to be right. However, we had to find out. I opened the door.

Sure enough, we were greeted with a horrific sight. On the floor was a gun. On the corner of a table was blood. Directly below the table laid Annabelle’s body. She had three distinct bullet wounds, as well as blood pouring out of her head. Annabelle was dead.

#danganronpa #danganronpa fanfic #danganronpa fanfiction #justin #duke #pierce #sophie #andy #tammy #Cassy #Jay #May #annabelle #maria #roman #Troy #Rachel #Buck #elliot #monokuma #monobird

3 notes · View notes

stuffkin · 3 years

Text

i am once again late but international sister’s day was august 1st sooooo here we go!

this is for @takamakiswife

Sonic Speedster: yo keep sunday free would you

Ann: maybe i already have plans

Sonic Speedster: clear your schedule then!!!

Ann: why?

Sonic Speedster: bc *i* have plans!!!

Ann hadn't had plans to begin with, but she continued to poke and prod at Ryuji for funsies until she gave in.

Of course, he won't tell her what those plans are. And by the looks of it, Akira's in on the secret, too--secret huddles, rushed whispers, sudden silence when she joins them, the works. She leaves them to it.

Sunday rolls around. Ann wakes up late, the late morning sun burning lazily through her curtains. Stretching languidly, drowsily, she rolls over and grabs her phone. It'd be incredibly easy to fall back asleep like this, but old habits die hard.

Besides, the handful of messages from the group chat wake her right up. Right. Secret plans.

Sonic Speedster: ann are you awake

Sonic Speedster: wake up already

Sonic Speedster: i'm bored

Cat Lord: ryuji it is barely 8am let people sleep

Cat Lord: why are you awake anyway

Sonic Speedster: im bored!

Cat Lord: want me to come over?

Sonic Speedster: um

The messages drop off after that. Ann blearily frowns at her phone. Well, that's not ominous at all. She checks the time. It's almost eleven.

Ann: well i'm awake now

It takes almost negative time for an answer to come through.

Sonic Speedster: ANN

Sonic Speedster: kira can we go see ann now

Cat Lord: i am literally sitting next to you

Ann: and yet

Cat Lord: and shouldn't you ask *her* that

Cat Lord: huh

Cat Lord: oh

Ann: let me see my boys

Cat Lord: incoming

None of them live particularly close to each other, so Ann thinks she has time to wake up properly. She's barely dragged herself out of bed to brush her teeth when the doorbell rings. Her reflection blinks back at her. That can't be them already.

And yet, sure enough, her boys are on the other side of the door. Akira looks tired and disgruntled. Ryuji is the polar opposite, grinning widely as soon as he sees her. "Ann!"

She stares at them both for a long moment, taking in the way Akira's holding Ryuji's hand to the way Ryuji's rocking on his heels to the way they're each dressed. Like Ann, Akira looks like he just rolled out of bed. Ryuji, on the other hand, is dressed to the nines in his usual No Mo' Rules shirt and a pair of shorts. Not unusual. But she spies the chew necklace dangling around his neck and the yellow Crocs on his feet. She softens.

"Couldn't give a girl time to get ready for our big day, huh?" She ushers them inside.

"Mm-mm. Too 'cited." Ryuji leans against Akira to slide off the Crocs. Then he dumps his backpack next to the shoes. Ann can't remember the last time she's seen him with a backpack.

"He was already halfway here when he was messaging us earlier," Akira tells her. "Guess the plan was to wait outside until you woke up."

"Was 'cited," Ryuji repeats vehemently.

"You sure are. Do I gotta be worried about these mystery plans, kiddo?" Ann puts her hands on her hips.

"Mmm, nope." Ryuji bounces on the balls of his feet. "'kira an' Mona made sure I didn't go too overboard."

That isn't reassuring in the slightest. Ann turns to Akira, who's slumped on the step and picking at the laces of his shoes with one hand while he's freeing Morgana from his bag with the other. Morgana winds himself around Ann's bare legs.

"Good morning, Lady Ann."

"Morning, Morgana." Ann leans down and scratches behind Morgana's ears in the way that he says he hates but the purrs say otherwise. "What have these troublemakers planned for me?"

"I'm sorry, but I've been sworn to secrecy." He doesn't sound very sorry at all. He just rubs his head against her hand for more scritches. Ann complies.

Akira yawns and leans against the wall. "All sorts of activities and shenanigans."

Ryuji looks up from where he's rummaging through his bag. "'kira!"

"What? I didn't tell her."

Making the most scathing noise Ann's ever heard from little Ryuji (and with strong contending with non-regressed Ryuji, to boot), he continues digging only to yank out a crumpled piece of paper. From where Ann's standing, she can see Ryuji's messy scrawl, some doodles, and what looks like streaks of crayon. At the top, in blocky letters, is SKEDUEL in English letters. Actually, now that she's paying attention, she's pretty sure the rest of the page is in English, too.

Ryuji's hatred of English is incomparable, and yet he wrote their plans in English. Something warm and fuzzy grows in Ann's chest.

Akira leans back and swipes the list from Ryuji. Ignoring the whine it elicits, he squints at it, nods, and hands it back. He points at Ann. The effect is diminished by the fact he's still sitting down. "You gotta go back to bed."

"I what?"

"'Kira!" Ryuji's full-on pouting now. "Shh!" He turns to Ann. Sullenly, he echoes, "You gotta go back to bed."

"Can I know why?"

"Mm-mm. Surprise."

He still looks upset, so Ann plays it up with a gasp. "A surprise! How'd you know I love surprises?"

It does the trick. The pout vanishes into a grin, his tongue sticking out between his teeth. "'Cause you always have."

She can't deny that, so she reaches over and ruffles his hair. "My baby knows me so well!"

Ryuji wrinkles his nose. "'m not that small today." He hesitates. "Don't gotta be small at all if ya don't want me to be. Gimme a minute an' I can be big."

"No, no no no no, don't you dare." Ann slides her hand from the top of his head to his cheek. "I want to see my li'l guy. Promise." She holds up her other hand, pinkie extended, and Ryuji relaxes. He wraps his pinkie around hers. Squeezing gently, Ann grins and taps his nose. "I'm all yours today, buddy."

"Good." He nods and looks at Morgana. "Make sure she goes back to bed?"

"Of course." Morgana starts to pad down the hall, looking back only to make sure she follows. She does. Once she's flopped back into bed, Morgana curls up on her stomach.

"You sure you can't tell me anything?" Ann wheedles. She can already hear clattering from the kitchen. Hopefully Akira's taking charge.

"Do you really want to make Ryuji upset?" Morgana counters with a yawn. "Just trust him."

"I do."

The room is quiet after that with Ann idly scratching behind Morgana's ears while listening for her boys. Every now and then she can hear a low voice (Akira) followed by a burst of laughter (Ryuji). It's enough to almost lull her back to sleep. Almost, because just as she's on the cusp of dozing again Ryuji pokes his head through the door.

"Sissy, we're coming in."

Ann waves him in, carefully shifting Morgana to the mattress so she can sit up. Ryuji pushes the door open the rest of the way to reveal Akira behind him. In his hands is a tray (Ann's pretty sure he had to dig into the depths of a cabinet to find it--she barely remembers it) laden with three precariously balanced plates and glasses of juice. Part of her wonders how much arguing was done for Akira to carry it instead of Ryuji. The other part of her is beaming.

"Did you two make breakfast?"

"Mhm!" Ryuji climbs onto the bed next to her.

"More like brunch at this point," Akira comments. He fussily arranges the tray on the bed before sitting across from them. Morgana cracks an eye open before slinking into Akira's lap, probably for mooching purposes.

"Pancakes an' 'nanas an' strawberries but only a li'l syrup 'cause 'Kira said so," Ryuji tells Ann seriously as though she can't see for herself. "An' cinnamon 'cause that's how Mama makes 'em."

"Ooo, that sounds delicious, bub! Thank you! I bet you and Akira worked really hard, huh?" Ann grins at him. His cheeks turn a little pink, but he's grinning right back, so he must not be too embarrassed.

"Yeah!" His voice drops, which is to say, barely at all. "'Kira kept eatin' the strawberries."

"Well, someone's gonna turn into a strawberry if he eats all of them, isn't he?"

"That might be fun," Akira says thoughtfully, as though he's seriously considering how he might transform into a strawberry. Knowing him, he probably is.

Ryuji isn't as amused. "You'd be too tiny to do anythin'!"

"What if I was a giant strawberry? A person-sized strawberry?"

"Um." Ryuji screws up his face in thought. It doesn't take him long to come to a conclusion. "Okay."

Akira nods sagely. "What fruit should Ann be?"

There's no hesitation this time. "A cherry."

Ann raises an eyebrow. "Why a cherry?"

She half expects some answer along the lines of what connotations cherries have, or something about the flavor, but Ryuji surprises her. "You always steal my cherries when we go get ice cream. They're your favorite."

He says it so easily, so earnestly, that Ann has to pause. She's never really considered whether or not she has a favorite fruit, but Ryuji's honest assessment makes her realize that maybe she does. "You're right!" She reaches over and boops his nose. "Now what about you?"

He shrugs. "'nana. 'S yellow."

"So are lemons."

"Too sour."

The conversation devolves after that, if only because Morgana tries swiping a piece of fruit and ends up with a banana slice on his head. Ryuji lets Akira cut up his pancakes, but refuses to let either of them feed him. Ann suspects he's trying to keep himself from slipping littler. Still, when he's finished, she takes the time to wipe away a smear of syrup from the corner of his mouth.

While Akira takes the dishes to the kitchen, Ann scoots to face Ryuji. "What's next on the agenda, kiddo?"

Ryuji yanks the crumpled SKEDUEL from his pocket and smooths it over his leg. Now that she's closer, Ann can definitely see the scrawled jumble of English. There are spots of Japanese that were hastily scribbled out. "Asakusa."

"Oh? What are we gonna do there?"

"Sissy wanted to go shopping there," Ryuji mumbles, fidgeting with the edges of the paper. "An' 'Kira thought Sky Tower would be good for lunch."

That's right, she had mentioned wanting to check out a shop that had opened recently. But… "I don't think you two would have very much fun shopping with me, bub. It's just a bunch of clothes."

Determination sets like stone across Ryuji's face. "It's fun 'cause it's with you, duh."

She doesn't quite believe him, but she appreciates the sentiment. "Well, I'm sure it'll be great."

Ryuji grins. "'m gonna see what 'Kira's doin'. You get dressed." He bounces up and out of the room before she can say otherwise.

With a sigh, she scoots herself to the edge of the bed before remembering a very important detail. "Morgana, shoo."

Once she's alone, Ann goes through the meticulous process of getting dressed. That is to say, she grabs a pair of stylishly distressed jeans and tight white top. She doesn't think she has the usual luxury of time--one rarely does with Ryuji--so instead of her usual pigtails, she pulls her hair back into a ponytail and swipes on the barest amount of makeup she can stand. It's not that she needs makeup; she just feels more confident, that's all. Still, she stares at herself judgmentally in the mirror for a long moment before grinning cheekily at her reflection. "Just right for a day with the boys," she tells herself.

The pitter patter of feet in the hallway tells her that her assumption about time was correct. As she opens the door, Ryuji is raising his hand to knock. He stares at her.

"Do I have something on my face?" Ann asks, twirling the end of her ponytail around her finger. She knows she doesn't--she'd just been looking in a mirror, after all--but she can't help but be a little nervous. Ryuji's opinion about her appearance has never mattered, and he's always been stupidly honest, so she's not sure why it matters now.

"You look really pretty," Ryuji says simply.

Ann feels her face heat up; to cover it up, she reaches forward and lightly pinches Ryuji's cheek. "Aww, what a sweetheart!"

Ryuji makes a face. "C'mon, 'Kira's waiting." As Ann follows, he adds, "He did alllll the dishes."

All of them? Ann remains silent for a moment, flustered. While there hadn't been many used for their brunchfast, and there probably hadn't been many used for cooking, Ann is acutely aware of how she'd been letting dishes accumulate all week. When they reach the entryway, where Akira is tugging on his shoes, Ann pokes him in the back of his head. "You didn't have to clean up my mess."

Akira looks up at her as if to say, well, it's not like you were doing it. But he doesn't say that. What he says is, "I like washing dishes."

Ann narrows her eyes at him before sighing. "Well, thanks." She plops down next to him and pulls a pair of sneakers towards her.

Once they're all shoed and Morgana bagged, they leave for Asakusa. Ryuji, in the middle, swings Akira and Ann's hands all the way to the train station, only letting go once they're on the train proper. He seems okay, but Ann keeps an eye on him anyway; there have been too many instances of little Ryuji bursting into tears on trains because it's too crowded or loud, and right now, it's both. Thank you, Sundays. But when she catches his eye, he just grins sunnily at her.

Even so, he presses closer to Ann once they reach Asakusa, the throng pressing doggedly towards the exit finally getting to him. He slips his hand into hers, palm pressed to sweaty palm. His other hand latches onto the back of Akira's jacket. Akira glances back, assesses the situation, and skillfully guides them through the crowd towards a less busy corner of the station for a breather. Ryuji doesn't look happy about stopping, but he leans against the wall and pops a detested chew bead into his mouth. Ann frowns.

He must be worn down. He hates those things. Squeezing his hand, she asks, "Is my li'l guy holding up okay?"

"Mhm." He doesn't say anything else, but she doesn't expect him to; she can see his jaw working as he chews.

Akira has no such reservations about speaking. "Headspace check?"

Disgruntled, Ryuji spits out the chew bead. "...littler." When Akira shares a look with Ann, correctly interpreted as should we head back?, Ryuji scowls. "No home."

It's such a stark difference from how happy he was earlier that Ann can't do much more than blink in surprise. Still… "Honey, we don't have to do anything you don't feel up to doing."

"'m fine."

Ann shoots another look at Akira. This time, it says, I'm leaving this decision to you. Akira looks just as lost as she feels--it's not often Ryuji is cranky when small--but his face clears immediately. " Okay, but if you start feeling worse or smaller, we're going home." He levels Ryuji with a stern look that leaves no room for argument. "No hiding."

Ryuji heaves a loud sigh, and the clouds disappear as soon as they've come. "Fine. Go now?" As an afterthought, he adds, "Please?"

"Good manners!" Ann praises warmly, squeezing his hand again. "Let's gooo." She isn't as adept as Akira at finding the neatest path through the people still milling about, but she does well enough, and soon they're bursting out into the busy streets of Asakusa. Now this she knows how to do. Making sure to keep a tight grip on Ryuji’s hand, she skips along down one street and the next, occasionally peeking back with a grin at her boys. Every now and then, Ryuji or Morgana points something interesting out to the others.

If all they did was walk around, Ann would have been happy. But soon enough they reach the clothing shop, all wide windows and bright clothes. "Here we are!"

No response from the boys. Glancing back, she sees Akira eying one of the floral sundresses. Ryuji, on the other hand, looks one part stricken and one part confused. Ann hadn't thought he'd enjoy this. Even out of headspace he'd always scoffed at shopping excursions. "You sure you don't want to do something else, sweetheart?"

Any misgivings wipe themselves free and make way for determination. "No." With that, he marches inside. Ann has no choice to follow, given that he hasn't let go of her hand, but she casts a helpless look back at Akira. He's no help at all, just shrugging and following them inside. Morgana gives her the kitty equivalent of a grin before ducking into his bag to nap.

They don't get very far inside before Ryuji yanks his hand free and slides his bag around so he can rummage for something. "Know I packed it so where--oh!" Triumphantly, he pulls out a laminated card and hands it to Ann.

"What's this?" Ann flips it over and reads the front. Gift Certificate for-- "Oh my God. Ryuji, honey, that's too much."

"'Kira got it," Ryuji says dismissively.

"With your money," Akira counters. He slides his hands into his pockets. "Sojiro's been letting him pick up some shifts at Leblanc. And I'm pretty sure there's a new part-timer at the beef bowl place on Central."

Ann's heart explodes in a rush of warmth. "You didn't have to do that."

Ryuji flushes, not looking at either of them and hugging his bag to his chest. "Sissy deserves nice things," he mumbles, "an' you like tryin' things on an' pickin' things for yourself, so…" His leg's bouncing in a way that tells Ann he's second-guessing himself. Well, we can't have that.

"Well, thank you, anyway." She scoops him in for a hug, giggling when he makes a surprised sound. "Wanna help me pick something out? After all, you know me the bestest!"

It works. Ryuji relaxes into the hug, and she can feel him beaming against her shoulder. "'Kay."

Grinning widely, Ann breaks the hug so he can slip his bag onto his back again. "Let's do this, then!"

In spite of the boys' hesitation, it doesn't take them long to warm up to pulling shirts and skirts and dresses off the racks for Ann to try. Unsurprisingly, Ryuji keeps handing her bright, fiery colors. Surprisingly, they're all modest. Again unsurprisingly, they are all things Ann would have chosen for herself.

She feels seen. Known.

She's in the middle of trying on a casual blouse with off-shoulder sleeves when she hears Ryuji giggling like a little madman, followed by Akira saying something that just sets Ryuji off more. Ann takes the time to study herself in the mirror before stepping out of the dressing room to see what all the fuss is about. It takes no time at all for her own laughter to bubble over.

"Ryu, what are you wearing?" she says in between bursts of giggles. Ryuji twirls--twirls--around to grin at her. On his head is a hat he'd pointed out earlier. All purple velvet and bits and bobs and more brim than hat, it is the most obnoxiously ugly old-lady hat Ann has ever seen.

He strikes a pose. "Am I pretty?"

"The absolute prettiest." An idea pops into her head. "Wanna learn how to catwalk?"

A quiet gasp is more than enough answer. "Jus' like you?"

"Just like me!"

"Okay!"

Fortunately, there aren't very many customers, and the even fewer employees don't cast them a second glance. Ann guides Ryuji through the steps, the poses, the works. He's not the most graceful about it, but he's happy, and that's all that matters. They even bully Akira into trying on a black skirt with red trim that he'd been eying. It somehow works with the hoodie he's wearing. When he spins, it flares out; when Ryuji "ooh"s, he blushes faintly.

"I think we know what Akira's getting," Ann whispers to Ryuji. He giggles and nods. Akira pretends to not have heard them before ducking back into the dressing room. Ann waits for him to come back out before doing the same.

One dress and one skirt purchase later, the three of them are stepping back out into the warm day. Ann swings Ryuji's hand. "What's on the schedule now?"

"Umm." Ryuji shoves a hand into his pocket and pulls out the vaguely crumpled SKEDUEL. Shaking it open, he squints at it. "Sky Tower nex', but no' that long since breakfas'..."

"Well, are you hungry?"

He shakes his head and pockets the paper again. Ann and Akira share a look. Ryuji's always hungry. Now that Ann's paying attention, it seems like Ryuji's energy is flagging like it tends to do when he's regressed. Before either of them can suggest returning home, though, he perks up and tugs on Akira's sleeve. When Akira leans closer, he whispers something in his ear. Akira nods seriously before pulling out his phone and typing something. When Ann asks what he's doing, he ignores her, but says, "Come on, new plan." Taking Ryuji's free hand, he leads them a few streets over. Not having much of a choice, Ann follows.

A crepe shop. They managed to find a crepe shop. A worthy replacement for Sky Tower, all things considered. Sky Tower isn't much of a place for itty bitties. Regardless, she protests when Akira moves to pay for her, only to back down when he levels her with a stare. Two crepes for her and Akira and a juice box for Ryuji.

They find a bench nearby to enjoy their snacks. In spite of his claim that he wasn't hungry, Ryuji doesn't complain when Akira pops a piece of crepe in his mouth. Even so, he stays quiet, watching the flow of people pass them by. Ann gets the feeling he's not really paying attention. A stifled yawn proves her earlier suspicion correct.

Ann doesn't say anything until they've finished their food and Akira's stepped away to throw away their trash. Propping her against the back of the bench, she asks gently, "Getting tired, baby?" She half-expects him to whine that he's not a baby, but it's not that surprising to get a quiet nod. "Yeah, thought so. You got up sooooo early today!"

"Was 'cited," Ryuji mumbles, echoing his first sentiment of the day. He rubs his cheek, frowning. "No home. Sche--um."

"Can I see the schedule, hon?"

Ryuji complies, sluggishly pulling out the paper and handing it over. Anm scans it quickly. "Geez, you planned a packed day."

"Sissy 'serves it. Lotsa fun." Ryuji slumps over to lean on her shoulder.

Ann wraps an arm around her shoulders to keep him steady. "Why so much?"

"It's Sissy's day," Ryuji says simply.

"Huh?"

"International Sisters Day," Akira supplies as he rejoins them. "Day to celebrate sisters."

"But I'm not..." She trails off as they both look at her, one expectantly, one with a raised eyebrow. It hits, hard, her heart combusting into a million fireworks. "I...guess I am, huh?"

"Love you, Sissy," Ryuji mumbles.

"Stooooop, you're too cute," Ann whines, planting a kiss on his temple. "But I love you, too, my sweet." She glances down at the list in her hand. If it weren't for the liberal use of crayon, she wouldn't have known what kind of headspace Ryuji had been in when he wrote it. Still… "I think some of this will have to wait another day. It's a lot, even for me. I thought you said Akira and Morgana kept you from adding too much?"

"He never said that," Morgana pipes up from over Akira's shoulder. "He said 'overboard.' You should have seen some of his original ideas."

"Okay, but this is still a lot."

Ryuji's voice is miniscule. "Didn' mean to be small today."

Well, that would explain it. Ann has no doubts a Ryuji on any other day would have breezed through this list no problem. "Well, that's okay. Now we just have a list of things to do later!" She gently shakes his shoulder. "But for now, why don't we go back to my house? I know a certain pelican and ostrich that miss you sooooo much."

"St'ech 'n' Scoop?"

He must be fading fast if his words are missing so much. "Exactly! Good job, sweet pea!" Her voice drops conspiratorially. "And I have lots of cookies."

The cookie bribe probably hadn't been needed, but the way a sunshine smile stretches across Ryuji's face couldn't be traded for the world. Akira's exasperation is just an added bonus.

As they return to the station, a link of brother and baby brother and sister, Ann looks at the SKEDUEL again. At the very bottom is a stick figure family, complete with cat. It's them, because of course it is. Ann had never particularly thought about siblings, or what it would mean to have them, but right now, she's thankful to have found the best brothers a girl could ask for.

#agere #persona agere #sfw agere #age regression #stuff writes

8 notes · View notes

punksarahreese · 3 years

Text

Warm | Bloodletting

Nosdecember day 11 | @neworleansspecial

Occult!Au; Connor’s trauma makes him feel cold and alone, but Ethan is there to help him through it

CW: abuse mention, murder mention, ptsd

***

Ethan would like to say that the screaming surprised him when it woke him from a dead sleep. That would be a lie though, since it had become an almost nightly feat as of late. So when he sat up upon hearing the muffled sobs and sound of shuffling across the dark cabin, he thought it would be like any other evening. That was until he heard the door slam shut, preceding a loud boom of thunder.

That was what had him on his feet, sliding on his slippers and rushing into the hallway in seconds. Will had emerged from his resting place on his old futon too, hair disheveled from sleep and looking at Ethan blearily.

“Did he..?”

“Yeah,” Ethan sighed, “I think he did.”

“Do you want me to go look for him?” The youngest werewolf looked exhausted, having been hunting all afternoon for the pack and for the vampires too. He was still wary around Ava and Estia but he supposed this agreement wasn’t too bad. At least if he was providing them with animal blood then it meant no wandering humans were at risk. Still, he wasn’t used to so much activity and hadn’t completely adjusted to the act of changing forms comfortably. Needless to say, the last thing Will wanted to do was go running after an upset Connor at midnight.

“No, I’ve got him,” Ethan shook his head and was already tugging on his boots, “He’ll be upset.”

Before Will could press the matter any more, Ethan had already slipped out into the storm. He didn’t bring an umbrella, though he did have the forethought to tuck Connor’s jacket under his arm since the other hadn’t bothered. He wasn’t sure which direction Connor had gone in and the rain interferes with his scent, so Ethan just started walking.

This was, unfortunately, more common as of late. Connor continued to have nightmares about his mother, ones he told Ethan about one night before Will had joined him. His mind often ran through the events of her murder, making him relive the trauma from his teenaged years every night. After his father’s death, at the hands of Connor himself, the nightmares got worse. He barely slept anymore and when he did he almost always woke up screaming.

Connor’s main issue was his coping mechanisms, or lack thereof. Ethan knew his dad had been abusive and would frequently punish Connor for showing any weakness. He knew that he grew up emotionally stunted, used to hiding his feelings and pushing everything down. Cornelius wanted a soldier, a strong heir to the clan; he didn’t have time for a soft son. It didn’t do Connor any good, especially not now.

He didn’t know how to cope, didn’t know how to express his emotions. He never had the chance to properly grieve for his mother and had to make the regretful decision to kill his own father. That was a series of events that would haunt the werewolf for the rest of his immortal life. It made Ethan worry.

Luckily it didn’t take too much walking before he spotted his friend. Connor was crouched on the ground by the riverbank, head in his hands. He wasn’t crying, not audibly, but Ethan could see his shoulders shaking. He was probably freezing, even though lycanthropy made their body temperatures run higher than normal; being out in a rainstorm shirtless is good for no one.

“Connor?”

“I’m fine, Ethan,” his mumbled reply sounded so dejected that it confirmed he was, in fact, not fine. Ethan didn’t say anything though, just came closer and wrapped his coat around Connor’s shoulders.

“You’ll catch your death out here.”

“That’s so dramatic,” Ethan could have swore he heard the eye roll from Connor, “I’ll live, unfortunately.”

“Hey, don’t,” Ethan didn’t like the sound of that. He knew they all had trauma and bad memories to work through, this wasn’t news. Yeah, life as a tiny pack of werewolves wasn’t easy and immortality was the opposite of comfortable. Still, Ethan wouldn’t let one of his pack suffer, especially not with whatever war was going on in Connor’s mind.

Somehow he managed to drag Connor to his feet, wincing at how bloodshot his golden eyes were. Connor hated appearing weak, immediately tried to shy away from him, but Ethan persisted. He wasn’t used to comfort, didn’t remember what it was like to be consoled or cared for. Even still, it didn’t take long before Ethan had coaxed Connor into a hug.

That was the breaking point, the moment where his façade shattered and the scared, abused boy came back to the surface. He hated this, hated that he so easily broke down, but it was what he really needed. Ethan just stood there, holding Connor as he sobbed into his shoulder. His whispered reassurances were barely audible over the rumbling thunder and the river beside them, but it was okay. Connor was just grateful to have him there, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

They stood like that for a while, until Connor’s arms had officially went numb. His tears did stop, save for some poorly stifled sniffles and sound that could only be classified as a whimper. It hurt Ethan to see him like this, the strong and ever confident man he had grown to admire since they met breaking down. He was broken, traumatized, and all Ethan could do was watch as his brain forced him to relive the worst parts of his life.

“You’re safe, Connor,” Ethan promised, “I’ve got you.”

“He-“

“I know. I’m sorry.”

The other man pulled back enough to meet his eyes and the pain that crossed his face was immense, “I- I don’t want to be a... a monster.”

“Hey,” warm hands found Connor’s cheeks, brushing away the tears and forcing eye contact, “You’re not a monster. You aren’t him.”

“But...” Connor exhaled shakily, “I- he said...”

“He was a liar and he hurt you. What happened was bad but you did what you thought was right. You probably saved a lot of lives that day, Connor, including your own. The fact that you even feel guilt for this means you aren’t a monster.”

“P-promise?”

Ethan nodded immediately, not giving him a chance to doubt his words. That alone helped Connor visibly relax, though he still looked like he wanted to run away and never stop.

“Let’s go home, okay?”

Connor wanted to protest, not wanting Will to see him like this. He wanted to keep some of his dignity, leave some semblance of his pride intact. Still, he was cold and so tired. He just wanted to sleep, though he knew the second he surrendered to the exhaustion that the dreams would be back.

“Tired...”

“I know,” Ethan agreed as he led him back down the forest path. He kept an arm around Connor’s waist, giving him a sense of stability because he knew everything was too much at that point. They walked in silence, both soaked from the rain and chilled to the bone. Ethan would light a fire when they got back, he promised, then Connor could rest.

Will wasn’t awake when they returned, knowing better than to pester Connor after a panic attack. While the other wolf trusted him, he didn’t like to show weakness around their newest friend and Will understood that. Their bond could strengthen eventually and maybe then Connor would let himself be more vulnerable, until then he could just let Ethan keep him safe.

It took a bit of coaxing to get Connor to sit down on the couch. He wanted to retreat to his room but Ethan wouldn’t let him, citing that he would only get sick if he went to bed so cold. So Connor ended up bundled in a blanket, looking rather poorly as he watched the other light the small wood stove across the room.

Maybe it was the warmth of the room when the fire started up. Maybe it was the exhaustion from his panic. Perhaps it was all of those things, plus the way Ethan sat down beside him and opened his arms without a word. Whatever the cause, Connor let himself lean into the comfort. No words to be had, that would be too embarrassing, they just sat in the silence.

The warmth was comforting, something that had been majorly missing from his life for years. It was weird but not in a bad way. For the first time, Connor felt safe, wrapped in a soft blanket and with his head on Ethan’s shoulder. Ethan didn’t mention it, just ran a hand up and down his arm in a soothing motion. Connor couldn’t help but melt into the touch because it was the most genuine affection he had felt in years. Even if he couldn’t express it properly, he was so grateful for this moment.

Ethan made him feel safe, cared for. He never judged him and he was always so patient. The way he logically navigated every situation and knew how to keep him calm was something Connor would forever admire. That was when Connor realized that just as much as he had saved Ethan when he first got turned, the other wolf had begun to save him too.

#idk how I feel about this #gay werewolves be gay and traumatized <3 #me posting this while everyone is asleep is clown behaviour #my aus #my-writing #connor rhodes #ethan choi #rhoi #werewolf!connor #werewolf!ethan #werewolf!will #occult!au #bloodletting #nosdecember #userglow #neworleansspecial #mutuals

11 notes · View notes

snowdice · 4 years

Text

There Are Things That Are Lost (Part 5 of the series “Is There Anything Left of Patton.”)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Virgil & Logan, Logan/Patton(?), Virgil & Patton (?)

Characters: Logan, Virgil, Patton(?)

Summary: Virgil’s lucky hoodie is missing. Patton is more helpful with this than Logan.

Notes: Zombie Apocalypse AU, Past major character death(?), It’s a zombie AU and Patton is a Zombie. Angst.

This is the fifth part of a series of one-shots called Is There Anything Left of Patton? For once we’re not going to have a big time skip between this one and the next one so watch out for their trip to the Home Depot next week.

Previous parts:

“Something Left”

“Someone You’ll Never Meet”

Food You’ll Never Eat

Things You’ll Never Do

“Ugh,” Virgil groaned. “Where’s my hoodie?!” Patton turned at the slightly louder sound of his voice and shambled over to him. Unwilling to deal with him right now, Virgil took the couch cushion he’d been looking under and raised it between them as a barrier. Patton glommed onto it and Virgil pushed a bit, so he stumbled back. Apparently, he’d been too rough because he fell and landed on his butt continuing to grip at the pillow mindlessly.

“Don’t be mean to Patton,” Logan scolded, walking into the room.

“Have you seen my hoodie?” Virgil asked him.

“You need to keep better track of your stuff,” Logan said. He pulled the pillow out of Patton’s grip meeting very little resistance.

“That is not helpful,” Virgil spat.

Logan grunted as he leaned over and pulled Patton to his feet by the underarms. Patton grabbed for his face once he was standing. “Hush dear,” Logan mumbled, gently taking his hands in his and pulling them away. “It’s okay.” Then he turned his attention back to Virgil. “Based on data from the last three months, I predict you’ll find it in a place you ‘swear you didn’t put it’ within the next 2-3 days. Then, you’ll inevitably loose it again within the week.”

“… I don’t appreciate your tone.”

Logan did not bother to respond to him this time. He simply settled Patton on the couch with gentle pushes. They had found that he was much more likely to acquiesce if they just poked him in the direction they wanted him to go instead of shoving. He liked to push back against things that were too forceful, but if you just nudged him, he tended to accept it. They’d figured out a lot of things like that ever since they’d started to let him off the leash a bit.

Virgil had convinced Logan to let Patton walk around on his own sometimes almost three months ago, honestly mostly out of boredom after a month being stuck inside by the winter weather. He’d cited the fact that the zombie couldn’t exactly figure out how to open doors or anything, and neither of them were worried he’d eat them at this point. All they had to do to keep him contained was make sure the exits of the room they wanted him in were closed. They didn’t even need to lock them; they could probably just put up one of those baby cages.

Okay, maybe not that. Sometimes when he got in attack mode, he could push really hard. Last month Virgil’d forgotten to close the door to the kitchen and had ended up being tackled for a piece of raw meat he’d been intending to cook. It had been all types of traumatizing to watch him eat something bloody while being held to the ground. Beyond just the instinctual fear, there’d also been the thought that maybe being covered in blood would finally activate his eat human mode and Virgil would be desert. Yet, the most he’d done to Virgil was shove at him with his creepy ass fingers. Patton was lucky Virgil had some weird misplaced affection for him after that stunt. Logan also was lucky for the same reason; else he would have murdered the man for laughing after he realized exactly what had happened.

With a dramatic sigh, Virgil flopped down on the couch next to Patton and immediately had fingers on his arm. “Do you know where my hoodie is?” he asked Patton, pushing the fingers away. Patton made a puffy moaning sound. Virgil nodded along. “I already checked there, but thanks for being more help than Logan.”

Logan glared at him. “It’s too warm for it anyway,” he pointed out. It was true, but that didn’t soothe him.

“And if a zombie comes and tries to bite me, I’d like to have more than a t-shirt for cover,” Virgil grumbled. “No offence, Pat.”

He figured since Patton didn’t stop with the grabbing at his face that he did not take any offence.

“The hoodie isn’t going to give you any more cover if a zombie attacks you,” Logan pointed out.

“Well, it certainly helps when this zombie attacks me,” Virgil said as fingers continued to touch him. He’d usually put up his hood and pull the strings tight to prevent the slightly too cold touch from hitting his skin when Patton did this.

“The lost hoodie is your own fault and I have no sympathy for you. Keep better track of your things.”

Virgil stuck out his tongue. “Fine,” he said. “you’d better hope I don’t die in an accident that could have been prevented by a hoodie when we go out today. ‘Cause I’ll haunt you.”

“Yes,” he snapped, “because I need more dead loved ones hanging around my house.”

…

Oops.

“Sorry,” Virgil said, properly cowed.

Logan sighed and sat down in the armchair across from him. “No, I’m sorry. That reaction was needlessly provocative.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he was battling a headache.

They’d been at each other throats the past couple of months. January and February had been particularly hard with the snow and the cold. They’d been snowed in the house with only each other and a zombie whose presence could either make Logan soft and sad or irritable at the flip of a coin. Now it was nearing April and though it had been snowing still two weeks ago, the weather had broken a day ago and it was suddenly edging on hot, at least in comparison.

Hopefully with a little fresh air they’d be able to calm down a bit around each other.

Speaking of.

“It’s fine Lo,” Virgil said. “I get it. We should probably get going if you’re ready.” At some point during the winter, they’d apparently sprung a leak in the corner of the living room by the armchair. They often woke up to the carpet damp and Logan was worried there might be rot if they let it go much longer. So, since the weather seemed to be holding, they were going on a mission to get lumber and some other supplies to hopefully fix it. The hope was that the Home Depot wasn’t too overrun and the wood there was good. Otherwise they’d have to chop down a tree themselves which would make a lot of noise: not exactly a good thing when flesh eating creatures that were drawn to loud noises were wondering around.

Logan nodded at his reminder and looked over at Patton, the skin around his mouth tightening.

Well, they certainly weren’t going to just leave him alone in the upstairs to roam by himself. Yet, Virgil knew putting him in the basement hurt Logan more than he let on.

There wasn’t anything for it.

They walked together towards the basement entrance, hidden carefully behind a few bookcases in Logan’s study. Virgil whistled long and low and, as anticipated, a couple of moments later, Patton lumbered towards them.

Virgil was glad that Patton wasn’t able to make the connection between where they were drawing him and the basement below because, if Patton was capable of hating anything anymore, he hated the basement. He imagined if Patton could produce the fleeting thought that coming to the study = cage in the basement, he would fight them all the way.

He was always discontent in the basement. The more restrained he was, the worse his sounds and struggling became. It was some instinct, Virgil guessed. After all, how were zombies supposed to hunt and eat people alive if they were trapped? Of course, Patton didn’t actually have to worry about that since he and Logan kept him very well fed, but the chomping living beings instinct seemed to be the only zombie instinct shut off for him. So, he’d still mindlessly shove against things restraining him just like he’d still reach for things and pull them to him and he’d still follow loud noises and dramatic movements. Just like he’d still chase you down and tackle you if you weren’t careful. He just didn’t eat you at the end of it all.

The point was, considering how strong he could be when he wanted to, it was fortune that he didn’t understand where they were going.

Unfortunately, Logan did.

He took a measured breath and pressed the lever that would open the basement door. “Come here, dear,” he requested. Patton turned his attention to Logan, reaching out to him. Logan grabbed one of his hands and pulled softly, causing him to stumble forward in confusion. “Come on,” he coaxed, “it’ll be fine.”

“Want help?” Virgil asked, pitching his voice low as to not attract as much attention from Patton. His hands moved towards where his hoodie pocket would usually be, but then fisted at his sides since he was just in a t-shirt. Virgil always asked even though he always got the same answer.

“I can handle it,” Logan said, his voice measured. Virgil just nodded once and leaned against the door to wait.

Want to read more? The next part of this series is…

There Are Things That Are Missing

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #logicality #?#adriana writes #zombie au #past major character death #angst #italop #platonic analogical #platonic moxiety #(sorta?)

100 notes · View notes

minervahopebeyond · 4 years

Text

Blood Petals.

Hi!! Here is the new one! I hope you like it✨✨

Ps. I’ve checked but sorry if you find any errors on this one.

Chapter 24: Cunning.

Draco woke up on Sunday with his head resting on Theodore’s naked chest. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. He felt a little sore bat nothing that he couldn’t handle, the Hanahaki normally hurt worse than this.

“Good morning.” He heard Theo whisper to him. He looked up and sa the boy smiling softly. “How are you feeling?”

Draco knew that he was asking about the stupid flowers.The question actually was: ‘Did we just made you more sick with this?’Draco just smiled at him.

“I’m fine. Really, Theo.” And he started to lean to give him a kiss, to calm him, but then he stoped half-way through... What if it was just about last night? Draco didn’t want to be those pathetic guys that assumed that they were kind of ‘a thing’ just because they slept together.

The brunette must had seen the doubt on his face because he closed the distance that was left between them and kissed him softly.

Draco felt his brain shut down. It was like last night: the boy got close to him, and the only thing in his body that was still working properly was the fucking daffodils. ‘IT’S NOT HIM! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?’ Draco ignored them as he returned the kiss. Whatever, it’s not like Potter is going to care, he already had the she-weasel.

They were still naked. The night before Theodore sealed the curtains and casted the silencing charm around them... The kissed deepened, the blond boy let out a soft moan as a petal escape from his mouth. Theo swallowed it just like last night, and bit Draco’s bottom lip, before putting some distance between them.

“Draco, I need you to think for the two of us right now.” He whispered with his eyes close. “If we keep doing this... Are you going to get worst?”

The grey-eyed boy kissed his neck softly, slowly and between the kisses he spoke.

“I... Frankly... don’t... give... a fuck.”

Theo let out a soft groan and mumbled ‘Fuck it’ before he rolled Draco as he put himself on top of the blond.

“I still think this is a bad idea.” Whispered the hazel-eyed.

“Yes, Theodore. But bad ideas are our speciality.” He responded with a smirk.

———————

He was alone in his bed now. Apparently being someone’s first (and second) time couldn’t cancel the Dark Lord’s mission. Draco felt so impotent. ’I don’t know what else to do so he would stop this.’

“Dragon...? The Golden Trio is outside, asking for you. It’s past noon.” Blaise said with a soft voice.

Draco sat on the bed and opened up the curtains.

“I know what time it is.” He said with a tired voice.

“Okay... you should eat something. You missed breakfast and lunch, we were worried.”

The blond boy started to get of the bed and grabbed his night robe to put something over his pajamas. He started to go to the dungeons entrance, trying to avoid looking at Blaise.

“Dragon! You’ve got-“ But his voice was cut out by the door of the room getting closed.

When he got outside, the three Gryffindors were waiting for him. The daffodils had mixed feeling about seeing the green-eyed boy. They were thrilled that he was worried, standing in front of him, but they also remembered his kiss with the redhead. He resisted the urge to cough.

“Ferret! Where have you been?” Ron said with a worried tone. Draco controlled himself ,so he would not rant about how he was hiding from the prat that was right next to him.

“I was feeling kind of sick last night so I came back. Didn’t want to interrupt your fun.” He said with a calm voice. Granger spoke then.

“Don’t you want to go to the infirmary...? You’ve missed two meals-“ The blond boy just shook his head.

“No, thank you, Hermione. I took some pepper-up potion. I was just resting.”

Potter walked to where he was, frown in place. He didn’t give two shits about being in Draco’s personal space. He tried to remain calm but he could almost feel his breathing if he focused enough... He looked down and saw those very green eyes, very quite angry.

“Did someone hurt you?” The prat who lived asked as he looked at Draco’s neck.

‘Dragon! You’ve got-‘

Shit.

He took a step back, fighting the blush and the urge to cover the hickey with his hand. It would be more obvious if he did so.

The flowers were frantic. ‘HE IS MAD. WE KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN. MAKE HIM HAPPY. MAKE HIM HAPPY. MAKE HIM HAPPY.’ Salazar, it was like they didn’t even have self-respect.

Suddenly, Hermione widened his eyes and the weasel smiled brightly. He felt Ron grab his arm to whisper in excitement.

“Ferret, is that a hickey??” He asked. “DID YOU DISAPPEAR LAST NIGHT TO GET LA-“ Draco interrupted him; hissing.

“Say ir a little louder, why don’t you?”

Potter eyes were hurt, it was clear as a day. What Draco couldn’t understand was why.Then he heard the boy ask with a soft voice:

“Are you cured now?”

Draco wanted to kill him. How does he even know if it was Theodore?But now Weasley was smiling even brighter and Hermione was looking at him, expectant.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He decided to play dumb. Maybe he could get around this.

No such luck, though. Potter looked around him to check if somebody was looking and casted a muffliato around them. He took out a folded piece of parchment and pointed to it with his wand.

“I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.”

The blanc parchment started to reveal it self to them.

‘<cite>Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP</cite>’

Draco blinked. Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs... Holy shit. This was the marauder’s legacy. A heirloom, just like the cloak.

Then, Potter opened the map and Tthe only thing he could do was gasp. The entire castle was there and it showed everyone who was in it, and where. He glared at Potter then.

“Did you spied on me again?” The dark-haired boy just rolled his eyes.

“Ron said that you disappeared. I used the map to find you, but then I saw you with Nott. I thought you wouldn’t want me to interrupt. Now answer: Are you cured now?”

The flowers were slamming themselves against his lungs, begging for him to do something. He tried to hold down the coughs but he couldn’t, Potter’s eyes were too pained and he couldn’t handle it.

Petals escaped out of his mouth, Weasley’s face fell and Potter groaned.

“How is this even possible?” And Draco lost his cool at that. Thank Merlin for the muffliato.

“Well; the cure is someone’s heart, not someone’s prick.”

Draco realized that he made a mistake really quickly. The expressions on Potter’s face started to mix with anger.

“You slept with him? When he doesn’t even love you back?”

He hated him so much. He hated that after all this years he still saw the world so black and white. There was no greys, no ‘in betweens’. He coughed again at the memory of the victory party.

“Sorry, Potter. But you don’t get to slut-shame me, when you snogged your Weasley princess in front of the whole fucking common room. At least I did it privately.”

“Yes, but I didn’t sleep with her.” And Draco was glad he didn’t because the idea only made him cough again.

“And how is it my problem if Ginevra doesn’t put out? I’m sorry? I don’t know what you expect me to say.” He asked arching an eyebrow. He wanted to seem aloof. He couldn’t let Potter know that he cared about this.

“Nothing. Do whatever you like." Potter answered with a harsh voice and started to walk away.

The daffodils were hurting him. He didn't want to cough again, this was too much for him right now. He tried to breathe slowly, to calm down the flowers.

The other two thirds of golden trio were staring at the boy with astounded faces.

"What the bloody hell was that?" The weasel asked with a shocked voice.

Granger sighed before responding.

"I think I have some vague idea of what it was."

Her tone sounded defeated, then, she turned to look at the blond boy.

"We are sorry for the incredible invasion of your privacy that we have allowed. You don't have to explain yourself to anyone, Draco."

He nodded and mumbled a 'thank you'. The Gryffindor girl asked Ron to go see Harry, because she might just slap him if she did. The redhead nodded and left to find the boy. Then, Hermione turned to him.

"Why don't you get changed and we can go outside for a while? I needed to talk to you about something."

Draco looked at her confused, but he went to his room to grab some clothes. He told Pansy and Blaise that he was going to spend some time with Granger, that he would see them at dinner.

The day was nice. At least as nice as it could be. The air was warm and the sound of the wind against the cup of the trees was really soothing.

He walked with the Gryffindor girl until they found a nice quiet place under some trees. The blond boy sat on the grass and she sat beside him.

Draco was kind of nervous. Hermione had an oddly calm look on her face. Then, she spoke with a soft voice.

"Please, don't freak out." She said as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. The boy took a deep breath. "I know it's not Theodore."

Her soft voice sounded like a scream to his ears. He turned to look at her, panicked expression on his face. Shit. Of course this wouldn't last.

"Since when?" He asked with a low voice. The girl looked at him with kind eyes.

"Since you 'confirmed' that it was Nott, I started to pay attention to when you coughed. How, when, how many times. It always happened around Harry, talking about Harry... Then, you started to not talk to us and you looked sicker and sicker as the days passed." He sighed in exhaustion. "I asked Blaise and Pansy if they thought that it was Theodore and the answer was no. Pansy also told me that I could not ask them who, something about a ridiculous code." The blond boy chuckled a little. "I definitely knew that I was right, when I saw your face yesterday. Tried to ran after you but I didn't want to attract more attention to you."

Draco felt his eyes start to fill with tears, remembering that fucking kiss. And of course his best friends would know. Right now he couldn't even imagine why he thought that they were unaware of the situation. They just loved him too much to bring it up... He pulled his knees to his chest and looked away.

"Please...Don't tell him. Every book I've read says that the rejection just speeds up everything. I know that my case is different but I can't be bed bound. I need to fight this war." The girl just nodded.

"I know. I Read everything I could too."

They didn't talk for a while, the sound of the wind filling the silence around them. Then, Granger spoke without looking at him.

"I've been covering for you since my suspicions started. Not because I think that you don't stand a chance, but because I don't believe that Harry is ready to hear it." He said calmly.

Draco turned to look at her, eyes wide as ever. The daffodils started to move, frantic, happy. His chest filled with this tickling sensation... Hope. He waited for her to go on.

"Don't look so surprise. He always thought you were something of his, one way or another." And you know... What the fuck? The blond boy just blinked. "I have another reason not to say anything but it's kind of selfish."

"What is it?" Granger took a deep breath before talking.

"I want you with us next year. We need you. I'm out-numbered by their stupidity sometimes, I swear." Draco couldn't help to laugh at that. "You can't come back if this gets worst, your family is going to drag you back to the manor, and I saw what you did at the ministry. I'm sure that you know more than that. We need you out there with us."

Draco frowned.

"I don't understand what that has to do with telling Potter."

"If he knows he will feel with the right to decide if you come or not. I'm not going to let that happen."

The blond boy had so many questions in his mind. The flowers wouldn't stop moving... Granger was talking about the top secret Golden Trio mission. She trusted him and she wanted for him to join them that she was lying to Potter about his situation. Draco thought that he was dreaming, everything felt so surreal.

"What is it? Your secret mission or whatever."

Granger had casted a muffliato as soon as they sat on that place, but the blond boy saw her took out her wand to renew the charms just in case. Then she looked at him, tired expression on her face.

"I shouldn't be saying this to you. To be frank, I can't find any more information than what Dumbledore told Harry... Maybe you know about this." She said with hesitation in her tone."Apparently, He made horrocruxes, seven of them. We need to find them and destroy them."

Draco busted into laughter. This year was the most ridiculous year of his short life.

"What is so funny??" The girl said with and annoyed tone. The blond boy answered between the laughs.

"That.. That is the <cite>most difficult</cite>... way of protecting one's soul. And protecting is a strong word because you lose your humanity each time." He snorted. "Fucking hard to destroy too. You need dark magic: Fiendfyre. And he made seven of them" Draco said, shocked. "No wonder he is so ugly."

Granger hug him then. The boy widened his eyes, as she began to talk with excitement.

"I was right! I've been trying to get Harry to tell you so you could help this whole time! Please say that you will help us.." She said with pleading eyes."Help me keep Harry alive. Please, Draco."

And the blond boy knew that he didn't have a choice. If Potter was going on a suicidal mission to hunt Horrocruxes, then he would make sure that the green-eyed boy would return from it. Draco sighed.

"We are not disappearing on Sirius and Mr. Potter. It would make them reckless and they would look for us anyway; Harry is the only thing they have." He took a deep breath. "If we do this, we do it with a safe house and we use it if nessesary. Whatever nomad life you are picturing is our very last resort." And the girl nodded enthusiastically. "And we train. The four of us. You and I are not going to be pulling their fucking weight on the battle field because Potter seems to only be able to cast an Expelliarmus."

"Couldn't agree more." Granger said with a smile.

Draco smirked at her and closed his eyes, listening to the cups of the trees moving... They kept in silence for a while and then he decided to speak.

"Very Slytherin of you." He said, smirk still in place. "To lie to your own friends when they are worried and shit, just because you feel that you have a better chance at surviving if you do, of protecting the ones you care about. Cunning as hell, Granger."

The girl smiled brightly at him.

"Always thought that I would do well in your house. I have so many big dreams... half of my house mates just wish to be Aurors or something predictable like that. When this is over, I'm going into politics. You will not recognize the ministry when I'm done with it... Sadly, I knew it was not an option for me since I read about Salazar Slytherin before coming to Hogwarts." Draco looked at her, his smirk fading away. "It's okay. Gryffindor is a good house, Ravenclaw would have been too. It doesn't really matter, in the end the ones who want it enough are the ones who make it far, the houses are irrelevant." He nodded at that.

"You are right, It's irrelevant... but just so you know, you really would have done well in Slytherin." Draco said with a determined voice and she smiled again.

#drarry #fanfic #fanfiction #prongsfoot

15 notes · View notes

shakespeareanqueer · 4 years

Text

The Oracle - Chapter 2 (Navi Awakes in the Compound)

Series Summary: Navi walks out of the shower one day and right into Avengers: Age of Ultron. What!? Suddenly immersed in the MCU with the forbidden knowledge of future movies, they make it their mission to change the future

Chapter Summary: Navi awakes in the compound, and has an informative discussion with the Ancient One and Wong.

Contents: Discussion of body image and fitness, curse words 🔮WC: 1,507

A/N: And chapter 2 is now live! I’m trying to post more regularly so I can get all my challenges, open series’ and bingos done. But we all know how bad I am about posting schedules so we’ll see how this goes. Enjoy!

I’ll reblog with my tag list, links to my masterlist and a masterlist post for this series, citing the header and linking my tag list (which is open!)

When Navi woke, they didn’t open their eyes right at first. If they kept them closed, they could imagine they were back in their room, the only connection to the Avengers being their Captain America: The Winter Soldier poster that had hung above their dorm room bed in college, now tucked way in the back of their closet. But this bed was far too comfy to be the old, beat-up, overly firm mattress they had lugged from their last apartment to their new one. So instead, as their eyes fluttered open, it was the actual Captain America that they saw seated in an armchair in the corner, typing away on a laptop. For a moment, they could pretend it was just a clean-shaven Chris Evans, but a closer look at the computer on his lap revealed StarkTech written in large letters and a holographic keyboard like something out of science fiction.

Navi quickly closed their eyes before Steve could catch them awake, not sure they were ready to deal with this shit yet. But it was too late; Steve had heard their shift in breathing. He turned his attention to them and closed his laptop.

“You’ve got some explaining to do,” he said, using his stern captain voice.

Navi lolled their head to the side to stare at him, somewhat agog at how blunt and rude he came off. After a pause they muttered, “Can I at least pee first?”

Navi went to pull back the covers, then stopped. For the first time, they thought to check what they were wearing. They had not paid any attention when they had arrived in Sokovia in all the chaos of battle. They had, of course, been stark naked when they stepped out of the shower back in their own universe, but then they stepped out into the middle of a war. They must have been clothed in something when all that went down, but they couldn’t remember what for the life of them. They glanced under the sheet to see themselves clad in gray StarkIndustries sweatpants and a black StarkIndustries t-shirt, both several sizes too large.

“One of the nurses changed you while you were passed out. Your clothes are in the wash with our uniforms,” Steve announced gruffly. “Bathroom’s over there.” He pointed off to the other side of the bed. Navi mumbled their thanks and worked to detangle themself from the sheets.

“When you get back you—”

“Have some explaining to do, yes I know,” they finished for him. As Navi slipped out of the bed, they spared Steve a glance over their shoulder. “Is this how you make friends, Captain?”

“Is that what we are?” he asked skeptically. “Friends?” One eyebrow was arched dangerously high.

Navi snorted. “Nooo,” they retorted sarcastically. “I saved Pietro’s life because I’m the sworn enemy of the Avengers. Have some fuckin’ faith in people, Cap. I know, sorry, ‘language,’” They tossed the last bit over their shoulder without thinking as they disappeared into the bathroom.

Navi peed and washed their hands, then finally took a moment to properly look at themself in the mirror. The version of themself that they saw looking back at them took them by surprise. They blinked rapidly and tapped the glass, half expecting it to be some kind of screen with a filter overlain.

They looked like themself, but different. Their skin was clearer than it had been, no acne scars or splotchiness. Their hair was shiny brown and healthy-looking with no split-ends and a lovely amount of wavy curl, albeit a little bed-head. They ran their hands down their body and followed the same path with their eyes; they were themself but… improved. As they dragged their knuckles along their spine, they could feel that none of the vertebrae were sticking out funny, and it was much more of a straight column than an S-shape. They put their knees together and they were both facing the same direction, and there was no pain in those joints at all. It was like what they might have looked like if their DNA had had the chance to thrive without them getting in their own way by falling out of trees as a kid and touching their face with greasy hands and then popping the pimples as a teen; without nurture getting in the way of nature.

While examining their miraculously straight and perfectly white teeth in the mirror, Navi saw the reflection of yellow light beginning to sparkle behind them. The sparkle swirled and expanded until it was a full-blown portal. Out stepped Tilda Swinton and Benedict Wong, in full Doctor Strange costume—robes and all. But of course, it wasn’t them at all, it was their characters, the Ancient One and Wong.

“Oh thank goodness,” Navi exclaimed, turning to face them. “Finally some people who might know what’s going on.”

To the contrary, both sorcerers looked remarkably confused. “You seem less surprised than we thought you would be at our presence,” Wong admitted.

“Few people respond so well to a pair of sorcerers stepping out of a portal and into their personal space,” the Ancient One added.

Navi shrugged. “Yeah, well… I’ve seen it all before, haven’t I? Knew what to expect the second I saw the, you know.” They wiggled their fingers. “The crackling yellow light.”

Wong and the Ancient One exchanged a questioning look. “We were under the impression the universe you came from didn’t have sorcerers…” said the Ancient One.

“Well not in real life. But in the movies. With pretty accurate casting, I must say,” Navi replied.

“I see… So you’re aware that you are presently in the wrong universe?” the Ancient One continued. “Not the one you were born in?”

“Very aware, yes,” they answered.

“Have you discovered your time-related powers as of yet?” she asked.

“Oh boy, have I,” they joked. Then they mused, “I wonder if I can do it without the adrenaline rush of battle…”

Navi scrunched their face and concentrated hard, grunting slightly with the effort. At first, there was nothing. Then suddenly, the green energy burst from the palms of their hands and connected with the ground just like the first time.

“Ha!” Navi shouted in triumph. “Did I do it?”

Wong peered out of the door and into the bedroom. Steven was frozen mid-pacing. Tony was frozen mid-stroking his beard thoughtfully. And Pietro was frozen mid-wild gesticulating while speaking.

“Yes, time is indeed stopped,” Wong confirmed, shutting the door to the bathroom once more.

“I’m really good at this!” Navi announced cheerfully before turning their attention back to the Ancient One. “So what’s the diagnosis? What happened and why am I like this?”

“Our prevailing theory,” she began, opening the Eye of Agomotto around her neck and swiping her hand to create an endless ribbon, around which floated representations of the five Infinity Stones. The whole thing was right out of Endgame, only there were two timelines hovering one over the other, extending through the mirror on one end and the shower curtain on the other. “Is that you fell through a crack in one universe—”As she spoke, a little dot Navi presumed represented them acted out her words. “And landed in this one, then skidded either backwards or forwards in time, thereby absorbing the power of the Time Stone. That’s this—“

Navi cut her off. “Yeah, yeah I know what the Time Stone is. And it was definitely backward in time. ‘Cause it’s only 2014, right?”

“2015.” The Ancient One looked guilty and apologetic. “If we’re right, and you fell through a crack in your universe… It’s likely impossible to push you back through it. With any luck, the crack will have healed on its own by now. And even if it hasn’t, shoving you through it could cause your entire universe to collapse.”

Navi nodded. “I understand.”

They glanced out at the men in the bedroom, their brain finally starting to clear of the fuzziness they had been feeling since they entered this strange new world.

“I don’t mind,” they concluded softly. “I think I can be of some help here.”

“So you want to stay here with the Avengers? Not come back to the Kamartaj with us?” the Ancient One asked.

They glanced once more at the way Steve’s face was scrunched in concentration, at the excited gleam in Pietro’s eye, at the worry lines across Tony’s forehead.

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” they decided. “I’ll visit you sometime, though. Once I get my head together, I’ll have some questions. If I stop by the New York sanctum, can I get through to you?”

Wong and the Ancient One still seemed very disconcerted by the calm and informed way Navi was discussing matters, but confirmed that that was a valid way to reach either of them if they were to simply speak to the Sanctum Guardian. Then they disappeared back into the portal, leaving Navi alone in the bathroom once more.

10 notes · View notes

illfoandillfie · 5 years

Text

Taking Control

This is my A Night At The Fandom gift for @m0etenchandon I hope you like it!!

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader x Ben Hardy

Summery: You decide to give the boys a taste of their own medicine.

Warnings: Smut (18+), Threesome, unprotected sex, dom/sub (Switch!Reader), oral sex (f and m receiving), orgasm delay/denial, hair pulling, spanking, choking, blindfolds, gags, restrains/bondage, degradation, handjob, fingering, begging, but also some soft cuddles

Words: 5153

A/N: I don’t write dom!reader a whole lot but what can i say? I was inspired lmao. also ya’ll know by now i’m a slut for a threesome lmao

Taglist: @idontbelievethiss @somekindof-cheese @dtfrogertaylor @ezmina98 @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @moreofthat-jazz

The first time you ended up in bed with both Ben and Gwil was when you were tispy at an after party. If you’d had less to drink you probably would have said it was a mistake but, after a couple of cocktails and more than a few champagnes you didn’t mind the way they sidled up to you. Ben had leaned in so you could hear him over the music, saying something which may have been a very bad pickup line. You’re not entirely able to remember but it was definitely super funny and worked well enough to get you to kiss him, hard, in the middle of the dance floor. There was tongue, you’re certain. Of course, once you’d parted Gwil said something about feeling like a third wheel so you’d pulled him into a messy kiss too. Before you knew it the three of you were locked away in an empty room. An opulent personal library that you probably weren’t meant to be anywhere near. Despite the location and slight inebriation, it had been fairly soft and sweet. You’d ended up lying between them on the rug, facing Gwil, his hands all over your tits, kissing you passionately, while Ben was buried in your cunt. Then they’d rolled you over so Gwil could fuck you while Ben sucked hickeys onto your neck and chest, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You crashed together in your hotel room, limbs tangled, feeling very satisfied. The next day had been less awkward than you'd expected it to be when you woke up with Gwil’s arm slung over your waist, your head under his chin, and Ben’s face buried in the crook of your neck.

The second time was about a month later. A few rainy days in a row had all of you complaining over your group chat, sick of being cooped up. Gwil offered a trip to the museum as a possible solution, citing the new exhibit about space travel. It sounded fascinating, though you and Ben would happily have agreed to just about anything that gave you an excuse to leave your apartments. After spending a few hours wandering through the museum, taking photos of each other with space suits and planets hanging on wires, you decided to head back to Ben’s place for a hot coffee and maybe a spot of lunch in front of the TV. Somehow making lunch turned into flirting which turned into fooling around which turned into you sitting on Ben’s face while Gwil did his best to choke you with his cock. Eventually it turned into you, squashed between the two of them as you watched bad movies from the comfort of Ben’s couch. They kept you warm as the rain continued to bucket down outside, occasionally sharing soft kisses, but mostly just leaning your heads on each other’s shoulders as you relaxed.

Less than a week later you were at a pub together. A few too many mojitos had you somewhat exaggerating your prowess at darts. Overconfident, you challenged both of them to a match, claiming they could come up with the punishment you’d suffer for losing because there was no way you were going to lose. Except you did lose. By a horrifically high margin. Entirely the alcohol’s fault, of course. The result was you tied to Gwil’s bed with both men taking it in turns to tease you and edge you with their tongues and fingers until you were begging for them to please please let you cum. They did eventually, but only after they’d finished over your tits and grown bored of your whining. Of course, they’d also taken care to clean you up and praised you for being so good as they snuggled in close to you.

After that it became a fairly regular thing. Pretty much any time the three of you were together you could guarantee it’d end up in someone’s bed or, like one memorable time at Gwil’s place, bath. You lost count of the nights that ended with you on your knees for them, or with Ben’s hand around your throat while Gwil spanked you, or with you just pressed between them, lazily jerking them off while their fingers roamed over every inch of your skin. After a few months of fooling around with them, you were hit by the realisation that, no matter how things started, they always ended with the boys in control. You’d been restrained and spanked and gagged and blindfolded but you’d never had the chance to return the favour. Every time you’d come close something had stopped you and once again you were being tied up or called degrading names. Not that you had anything against any of that. It was all fun and they did always look after you, making sure you had a good time and were okay afterwards. But you couldn’t help thinking it would be nice to switch things up a little, maybe leave them with the bruises for once. That night when you wound up together again you were curious as to what would happen if you tried to take charge.

“I had a dream about you last night Benny,” you bit your lip playfully as you dropped to straddle his lap on the couch, running your fingers up and down his arm as he automatically gripped your waist. Ben glanced at the hallway where Gwil had disappeared a second earlier before his eyes came back to you, focusing on your lips, “Oh yeah? And what happened in this dream?” “Well, I was sitting on your lap, just like this,” “Yeah?” he raised his eyebrows at you. “Yeah,” you giggled, “except your hands weren’t on my waist. They were,” you stretched the last word out as you took his wrists in your hands and pulled them together over his head, “like this. Tied up with rope so you couldn’t move them.” Ben’s eyes grew wide but he made no move to break free of your grip. “You looked very pretty like that. Sounded very pretty too. Begging me to fuck you, to let you cum.” A whine escaped from deep in Ben’s throat as you leant in closer, lightly brushing your lips over his. “Starting without me?” Both you and Ben whipped your heads round to look at Gwil as he came back, three bottles of beer in his hands. He placed them down on the coffee table and Ben let his arms drop back to your waist. In two steps Gwil was beside you, grabbing a fistful of your hair so he could tilt your head back. “Desperate slut couldn’t wait five minutes,” he twisted your hair around his fist, making you squeak at the pain, “think that deserves a spanking, don’t you? A little lesson in being patient.” “Yes Sir,” almost automatically you dropped back into the submissive roll the boys were used to. Ben blinked at you, looking like he’d been hit with whiplash. “You’re being quiet Ben,” Ben cleared his throat, “Just thinking about how I wanna see this whore squirm. She’s such a fucking tease.” You shivered at his tone. A moment later you found yourself being pulled around, positioned over Ben’s lap with your arse in the air. Gwil readjusted his grip on your hair, kneeling so he could pin your wrists to the couch with his other hand as Ben slid your shorts and underwear down your legs.

By the time they were finished with you your face was covered in tear tracks. Ben’s cock pressed hard against you as you tried to wriggle away from his hand coming down repeatedly on your arse. Then they’d switched, pulling you around like a ragdoll so Gwil could spank you too, all the while mocking you for being so visibly turned on by it, even as you begged them to stop. Once they’d decided you’d had enough you were pushed against the arm of the couch while they took turns fucking you from behind, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. Ben had been especially rough, frustrated by your earlier teasing. It was while he was buried to the hilt in your cunt that you decided you needed to flip the script on them properly. Later that night, as the bruises settled into your skin, you hatched a plan. You put a message in the chat saying you couldn’t stop thinking about them and desperately wanted a repeat performance of earlier. Flirty emojis were used liberally. Unsurprisingly both replied in less than a minute and within five, you had firm plans for three days’ time at Gwil’s place.

Three days later, an hour before you were due to be there, you knocked on Gwil’s door. He answered, a little surprised at your early arrival but happy to see you nonetheless. He led you through the house towards the dining room where he’d been sat at the table, books and his laptop spread out in front of him, doing research for an upcoming roll. You apologised for being early, making up an excuse about getting the time mixed up, though your early arrival was entirely premeditated. After all, Gwil was going to be the tougher nut to crack, it’d be easier without Ben there. Taking up residence in a spare chair you told Gwil to ignore you and keep working. “I don’t want to interrupt,” you said in your submissive little girl voice, all corruptible innocence and desire to please, which you knew drove Gwil wild. He shifted in his seat but otherwise didn’t react. You waited a few minutes, before speaking again. “Y’now, I had a dream about you last night,” “What happened to not interrupting?” he chuckled, closing the book he’d been looking through. Clearly, he was intrigued and the work wasn’t anywhere near interesting enough to hold his attention. “Sorry, I’ll be quiet,” “No, no, continue. What happened in this dream?” “Well,” you drew circles over the table with the tip of your finger, putting on a show of absentminded fidgeting, “it was just you and me, no Ben around. It started with me giving you a blow job but then I was tied to a chair with one of your ties.” “Go on,” his voice was deeper than it had been a moment before. “And you were using me so hard, Sir. Kept fingering my pussy without letting me cum, making me so horny I agreed to do anything you asked. I woke up when I came. You were fucking my throat in the dream and then I was awake and alone and so wet. Wish I’d stayed asleep a little longer to see what else you were going to do to me.” “Who needs to be asleep? I’ve got plenty of ties just upstairs and a perfectly good chair here. And Ben won’t be here for a little while. He can take a turn using you when he arrives but we could get started now.” You stopped drawing patterns on the table and looked at Gwil with wide eyes, “Oh yes please Sir. Where do you keep your ties? I’ll go grab a couple.” “Upstairs, second draw in the wardrobe.” You nodded before racing up the stairs, trying not to grin too much as the first step of your plan worked.

When you returned Gwil was still in his chair though he’d cleared away the laptop and books he’d had out. “Found them,” you said with a giggle, holding up the four ties you’d grabbed. “Why so many?” “In case you wanted to blindfold and gag me,” Another giggle. “Here. Now,” Gwil growled, clicking his fingers. You scampered across the floor and dropped to your knees in front of him. “Good girl. Now show me how this dream started,” You made short work of his fly, pulling his pants down his long legs, setting his cock free. He was already hard, your innocent submissive act working exactly as you’d hoped it would. You took him in your hand, stroking him, before you leaned in to drag your tongue along the underside of his cock, following a vein until you reached his tip. Gwil groaned as you lowered your mouth onto him, sucking at his sensitive head before sinking lower. You went slow, taking your time, using everything you’d learnt about Gwil over the past few months to make him forget himself. Between the bursts of rapid-fire flicks of your tongue on his frenulum, your fingernails dragging lightly over his balls, and the way you moaned as you finally took him into your throat, he was a complete wreck. When you raised your eyes, you saw he had his head thrown back, groans rising into the air around him as he clutched at the edge of his seat with one hand, the other resting lightly on the back of your head. “Oh fuck, Princess,” he moaned as you gently squeezed his balls and hollowed your cheeks. You gagged as the weight of his hand became more insistent, pushing you to take more of him. He wouldn’t let you up to breath until he’d spilt every last drop of his cum down your throat. Carefully, you pulled away, leaving a small kiss on his tip as you took his hand from the back of your head, lowering it to his side. Then, while he was still dazed, you made your move. Scooting behind his chair you hurriedly brought his wrists together, binding them with one of his ties. He didn’t register what was happening at first, too caught up in trying to breath properly. It wasn’t until you were back in front of him that he noticed what you’d done.

“What the fuck?” he gasped, trying to jerk his arms from where you’d restrained them. “Think it’s time you learnt how to play nice, Gwil,” he was taken aback by the change in your voice, no longer the giggly Princess, as you moved to straddle his thigh. “Let me go,” he growled. “If you really want this to end you can use our safeword. But I think you might actually enjoy not being in control for once.” Gwil looked you over as you began to rock against his thigh, still trying to twist his wrists free, “When I get out of here you’re going to be in for it,” “Maybe, but right now I’m in charge. So,” you placed two fingers on his stomach and began walking them up his chest, leaning in close to his face, “I think you should be nicer to me,” “Untie me and I’ll show you nice, Princess.” “Uh uh uh, you call me Ma’am now.” “Princess,” he drew the word out, “the longer it takes for you to untie me, the harder I’m going to have to punish you.” You leaned in close, looping your arms around his neck, your lips millimeters from his, “You’re being such a brat sweetie; don’t think you’ll be going free any time soon.” “Y’know Ben’s going to be here soon.” “Yes, and?” you sat back, keeping your arms round him. “He’s going to untie me and then you’ll have both of us to deal with. It’ll be easier on you if you just let me go now.” “No, I don’t think so. Now are you going to start behaving?” “You need to behave, Princess.” The sound of a doorbell interrupted you. “Now you’re in for it,” You stood and bent to retrieve one of the other ties, placing it between Gwil’s lips and tying it off at the back of his head. He tried to say something but it was too muffled to understand. “That’s better. Now be a good boy while I go get Ben,” with that you picked up the third tie, and left the room

“Hiya Ben,” you said as soon as you pulled the door open. “Hi, love, where’s Gwil?” “In the kitchen,” you shut the door behind Ben, “a little preoccupied but he’ll be ready to go in a minute.” When you looked over to Ben he was unabashedly staring, eyes roaming over you, taking in every inch of your appearance from your messy hair to your disheveled clothes to the marks on your knees. “Did you and Gwil get started without me, or are you blowing other guys before you meet us?” “It was Gwil,” you fell back into your Princess voice, “I got here early and kept distracting him while he tried to work so he put my mouth to better use.” “Leaving me out? Think I deserve an apology, don’t you?” “Sorry Sir,” you moved toward him, wrapping one arm around his neck as you brought your lips to his in a heated kiss. You slid your other hand into the waistband of his pants, palming his cock, feeling it growing hard under your touch. You bit your lip as you broke apart, pulling your hand free at the same time. “It’s okay. You’re our lovely little slut after all.” “I know how I can make it up to you properly, but it’s a surprise so you gotta let me blindfold you,” you held the tie up, dangling it in front of Ben’s eyes. “Alright, Princess,” he chuckled, “do you promise it’ll be worth it?” “Promise, Sir,” “Go on then,” he turned around letting you slip the tie over his eyes. “Can you see Sir?” “Nope,” he held out a hand in front of him, “Can you lead me?” You took his hand, bringing it up towards your face and sucked two fingers into your mouth. “Christ, Princess,” he gasped, as you pulled back to giggle. “This way Sir,” you said, pulling him along to the kitchen. As soon as he realised you were back Gwil tried to speak but, again, it was muffled by the gag. Ben let you sit him in a second chair and pull his hands behind him. “What are you up to Princess?” he asked, half laughing. “You’ll see in a minute,” you quietly bent down and used the final tie to bind Ben’s hands like you had Gwil’s. Once you were sure he was secure you removed his blindfold and then Gwil’s gag. Ben blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light but as soon as Gwil could talk he was demanding to be released. You rolled your eyes, taking Gwil by the jaw and tilting his face up to yours. “I told you already Sweetie, unless you use your safeword, the only way I’m letting you go is if you start behaving,” you leaned down to kiss Gwil briefly as you held his face tight. “What’s going on?” Ben asked, suddenly realising the situation he was in. You turned to face Ben, letting go of Gwil’s face so you could move closer and drag a finger along Ben’s jaw, “What’s going on, Benny, is that I’m tired of being your plaything. So today I’m in charge. Gwil here can’t seem to understand that, but you’ll be a good boy for me, won’t you?” Ben’s cock twitched and his eyes went wide as he began nodding. “yes Ma’am. I’ll be good.” You knew Ben would be quicker to play along, the way he’d let you control him the other day proved that, but you hadn’t expected him to get into it quite so quickly. It made you smile. “That’s what I like to hear, Benny. Think you deserve a reward,” you straddled his thigh like you had done Gwil’s earlier, pressing both palms to his chest. Slowly you dragged your hands down his torso, feeling his breathing get faster, as you began to rock your hips in an effort to relieve some of the pressure. When you reached the hem of his t-shirt you lifted it, pulling it up until you could get it over his head, leaving it caught around the back of his shoulders and neck. You leaned forward to lick a long stripe up the middle of Ben’s chest, all the way to his neck where you began pressing soft kisses as you flicked your thumbs over his nipples, making Ben whine. You paused briefly to look over at Gwil.” “See what happens when you behave Gwil?” “I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk for a week,” You tutted as you turned back to Ben, “he’s such a naughty boy isn’t he? Not like you, Benny. Your good. Gonna keep being good and do what I ask?” “Yes Ma’am.” “What do you want Benny?” “Touch me, please,” he whimpered. “Be more specific,” “My cock, please, I’m so hard, need you to touch me” “You sound so pretty when you beg,” you purred as you worked on pulling Ben’s pants over his hips, “knew you would.”

When you finally got him free you saw just how hard he was, precum leaking from his swollen tip. You rocked yourself harder against his thigh as you spat into you palm and began stroking him. Ben moaned out a, “Thank you Ma’am,” trying to buck his hips. You stopped all too soon, relishing the long whine Ben made. “Gotta be patient Benny, earn my touch.” “Yes Ma’am, I’ll do anything,” “Good boy. I think I remember you saying I was more fun to fuck while I was begging. So now I want to hear you beg for me to let you cum while I get off on your thigh, clear?” He nodded as you braced your palms on his chest again, grinding your clit against the seam of your shorts. As soon as you started moving, Ben began begging, telling you how hard he was because of you and how badly he needed you and promising to always do what you wanted if you’d just let him cum please. Every whimper, every needy gasp he made only spurred you on, hips speeding up as you dragged your cunt along his thigh, falling over the edge with a shudder. You slumped forward against Ben’s chest as you came, panting from the effort. He was still babbling, desperately wanting to please you, until you sat up and put a finger on his lips. “If I untie you will you keep being good?” “Yes Ma’am,” You slid off his lap and moved round to his back again. Your eyes landed on Gwil as you bent to untie the knot you’d made earlier. He swallowed hard as your eyes met his. “Looks like someone’s a bit lost for words. Did you enjoy that Gwil?” He had to clear his throat before he could speak properly, “No, ju-just thinking about how much I want to hear you beg for me,” “Is that so? Not jealous that I’d touch Ben? That I’d use him to get off? That I’m untying him?” Gwil shook his head again but he was less defiant than he had been a before, his cock half hard. You let Ben stretch his arms out once they were free, holding them above his head so he could pull his shirt off the rest of the way, while you focused on Gwil. “Y’know, I could untie you too. You just gotta promise to be good for me, do what I ask.” “Fuck you,” “Alright, suit yourself. You can just watch." Turning back to Ben, you reached out to stroke him a couple more times, earning another whine, “Gotta do one thing for me and then I’ll let you cum okay?” “What is it?” “I need that pretty mouth of yours.” He nodded as he stood, hands flying to your waist automatically, making you squeal as he lifted you onto the table. You didn’t even have time to praise him before he was tugging at your shorts, dropping them to the floor, quickly followed by your underwear. “Jesus, Benny, so eager,” He just hummed as his lips met your wet cunt. You quickly shed your shirt and bra and lay back, head landing right next to where Gwil’s chair was. He was watching you, wide eyed, biting his lip. His eyes darted away when they met yours, focusing on a spot on the wall behind you. “Eyes on me, Sweetie, want you to watch me cum,” the last few words were more moaned than spoken as Ben licked along your slit, flicking your clit on each pass. Gwil did as he was told, cheeks pink as he focused on you again. Ben lapped at your cunt like it was his sole purpose on earth, drawing more moans and breathless cries from you as he explored every inch of you with his tongue, swirling it around your clit, pushing it as deep into your hole as he could, running it teasingly lightly over your lips. Just when you adjusted to one sensation, he’d change his tact, making your legs shake as your brain struggled to keep up “Yes, Benny, just like that,” you clutched the edge of the table as you felt your orgasm getting closer. Ben added his fingers, pushing two into you as he resumed flicking your clit repeatedly. Gwil’s eyes were still on you, his jaw clenched tightly shut, which only turned you on more. Your cries only got louder and closer together as Ben doubled his efforts, latching his lips onto your clit and sucking hard as his fingers fucked you at a blinding pace. You came screaming Ben’s name, eyes locked onto Gwil’s. Ben continued sucking at your cunt, licking up your juices until you pushed him away. “Holy shit, Benny.” you said sitting up and reaching out to stroke his cheek. He leaned into your touch, “I was good?” “So good. Perfect. You still wanna cum?” “Please,” “Come here then,” You pulled him in to another kiss, softer than the last one, as you wrapped your legs around him. He took the hint, slipping into you. As soon as he’d bottomed out he began thrusting into you fast, chasing the release he so desperately wanted. “Slow down Benny,” your voice was soft but your tone was firm and, with a great effort, his slowed his hips, rolling them against you as he whimpered into your neck. “Being so good for me, listening so well. You ready to cum?” You felt Ben nod against you. “Want you to cum for me, now Benny,” Almost as soon as he had permission he was tipping over the edge, his hot cum coating your walls as he moaned against your neck. “What do you say?” “Thank you Ma’am,” “Good boy,” you praised him quietly as he left you, collapsing into the chair he’d vacated earlier.

Gwil was still watching you, cock harder than ever as his fingers twitched, wanting to touch you. “Going to behave now Gwil?” you asked as you slid off the table. “Yes,” he said it so quietly you almost couldn’t hear him. “Speak up,” “Yes Ma’am,” “I’ll believe it when I see it. You do not have permission to cum,” Gwil whined as you lowered yourself onto his throbbing cock, “Can I touch you? Please?” “No, you haven’t earned that,” you trailed a hand up his chest, bringing it to rest against his throat, “Gotta prove you behave before I let you do anything.” “I can behave, I can,” “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” Gwil gave you a questioning look for half a second before his did as you asked. You raised yourself on your knees and spat into his mouth, letting your saliva drip onto his tongue before you lowered yourself back down onto him. Gwil waited for you to nod before he closed his mouth and swallowed. You didn’t give him any more warning before you began to ride him in earnest, bouncing and grinding on his cock, bringing your hands up to cup your breasts as he stared longingly at them. It didn’t take long before he was whimpering out a needy, “Can I please cum?” You slowed your pace, swiveling your hips as he was pulled away from the edge. “That’s not fair, Ma’am, please, I need to cum so bad,” “That was for threatening me,” Once he had calmed down enough you picked up your pace again until he repeated his request to be allowed to cum. You slowed yourself again. “That was for talking back to me,” For the third time you began riding him again, dropping one hand to rub at your clit as his arms jerked with the desire to be free. For the third time he asked for permission to cum. “Not yet,” you grunted, your own orgasm close at hand. “Please, please, I n-need,” “Hold it until I say,” Gwil whimpered as your tits bounced in front of his face, one hand pulling at your nipples as the other rubbed fiercely at your clit. “You can cum,” you gasped as you hit your climax, clenching around his cock. It was enough to make him cum too, filling you with his release as he screwed his eyes shut and whimpered your name.

You peppered his jaw with light kisses, as his eyes fluttered open again. “Did so well,” you said softly into his ear. He turned his head, grazing his lips against yours, pulling you into a soft, sweet kiss. Suddenly he pulled back. “Can you untie me now?” “Sorry, of course,” you laughed, standing on still slightly shaky legs and kneeling behind him. When he was free he rolled his shoulders and readjusted his clothing. “Not so bad letting her take charge is it?” Ben said from his seat. “Spose not...still prefer when she calls me Sir though,” “I like calling you Sir too,” you said as you sat back on Gwil’s lap, wrapping your arms around him, “Just sometimes I like being called Ma’am instead,” you rested your head against his chest, looking over at Ben who was smiling softly. “Y’know you could have just told us that,” Gwil said, you could practically hear his eyes rolling. “But isn’t the hands on approach much more fun?” you poked him in the side, Ben laughing. “Yeah it was fun,” “If you play nice next time I won’t have to tie you up,” “Oh no, next time I’ll be the one tying you up.” “Watch out Y/N, Gwil’s got that look in his eye that says you’re in trouble,” “He is trouble. Think he’s angling for a spanking,” “Only if you’re bent over my knee.” “Well at least I can count on Ben to be my good boy, right Benny?” “Sure, if you come cuddle me now,” With a laugh you made to stand up but Gwil wrapped his arms around your waist, “Not yet, give me another minute,” “C’mon Gwil, you gotta share her,” “Y’know he’s got a perfectly good bed upstairs big enough for all of us,” you suggested. “Y’know if we end up in my bed, we will have to fuck you again...just as soon as we recover,”

#my writing #gwilym lee x reader #ben hardy x reader #gwilym lee imagine #ben hardy imagine #gwilym lee smut #ben hardy smut #i really hope you like it!!#i dont write a lot of dom reader so it was a little tricky at times #but im happy with it!!#technically im posting this late on my end #(1am on the 10th)#but i figure timezones work in my favour lmao

489 notes · View notes

hottestthingalive · 4 years

Text

Bluebells (3)

Chapter 3: Sprouts

Ao3 Link here.

First | Previous

Notes: Ah, chapter three. 19 pages long, the bane of my existence, and going from tooth-rotting fluff to mild angst in one chapter.

Plot: Virgil and Logan sleep together (but not like that), everyone thinks they’re dating, and Prince is confronted.

Relationships: Analogical, background Royality (so far!)

Tw: Cursing (and lots of it), mentions of death, mentions of potential kidnapping, assumed dating, mild objectification.

Logan couldn’t sleep.

He knew he should be able to -- ought to, in fact, have already collapsed from exhaustion a few days ago. He couldn’t quite remember the last time he’d gotten a full night’s sleep at this point.

But here he was, staring at the ceiling, looking at the peeling paint and wondering if anyone had noticed he wasn’t in the woods yet.

The odds were slim, of course. Fey, for all their allegiances and deals and petty rivalries, were naturally antisocial creatures. (Or at least Unseelie were. The only two Seelie Logan knew closely, Advice and Prince, were both exhaustingly extroverted, but the others of their court did not seem quite as exuberant, and he suspected they might be anomalies.) So no one would likely come looking for Logan tonight, especially after the spring equinox a few days ago.

Still, he worried.

Sighing, Logan turned on his side, shutting his eyes. What would Advice say right now? he wondered. What would he tell me?

...Well, knowing Advice, he’d make repeated human cartoon references and annoy Logan half to death. But mixed in there, he’d say something about Logan repressing his emotions and ignoring his actual worries in favor of trivial ones, and how he had to talk about his problems.

“Okay,” he said out loud, “What am I actually worried about?”

Anxiety, his brain supplied. He looks like he’s going to drop any moment. And Prince -- if it really is him, the human, then what on earth is he doing fraternizing with humans? Why did he miss the equinox? Why didn’t he tell his brother? What do I tell Duke if it is him, and he refuses to return? Would I have to keep it a secret?

Screw it.

He pulled aside the quilt, feet hitting the soft carpet on the floor with no sound. Logan could see perfectly in the darkness, now that he had taken off those infernal glasses -- adjusting his eyes to see through them meant depriving himself of his normal vision, which was impeccable in all forms of lighting and conditions. It was annoying.

Anxiety had insisted on Logan taking his room, citing some rules of human chivalry, and had gone to sleep on the couch. Logan couldn’t quite understand why he didn’t just take the room at the end of the hall, the one that presumably belonged to his grandmother, but he hadn’t questioned it, instead attempting to convince Anxiety to take the bed by citing his severe exhaustion.

The faerie had forgotten quite how good at arguing Anxiety was.

Logan pulled open the door to the room, adjusting the sweatpants that barely reached his shins. At least the shirt fit well -- it was a band shirt that had always been too big for Anxiety, the human had told him, and although a bit baggy, it was a good length on his lanky frame.

It was easy, creeping down the stairs, and Logan thought he had been perfectly silent until he heard Anxiety’s voice mutter, “You awake too?”

“Apparently,” he nodded, shrugging before he remembered that human eyes did not see nearly as well in the darkness. “Er… I just shrugged.”

“Thanks,” Anxiety laughed, voice gravelly with exhaustion. “Come sit with me. I’ll make us hot chocolate or something. Eventually.” He was wrapped in blankets, sitting upright on the couch with his purple hair going every which way. Logan noted with some concern that without makeup, the shadows under his eyes were far darker than he had thought.

“Sugar would probably be inadvisable at this hour,” he frowned, sitting down anyways. “You very much need rest, Anxiety.”

“Hypocrite,” the other mumbled, leaning his head against Logan’s shoulder. His hair smelled of lavender, from the shower he’d taken a few hours earlier. “When did you last sleep, L?”

“Last night,” Logan told him, honest as he always was, as he had to be. “My unhealthy sleeping habits do not persist into the summer months -- I only employ them during the time of my court, so I can do everything needed of me.”

“Then why’re you ’wake now?” Anxiety pointed out, words slurring slightly.

“Stress, I suppose,” he said. “Why are you awake?”

“I’m Panic! At the Disco, ’cept I’m not at the disco,” grinned Anxiety tiredly, eyes shutting. “Get it?”

“You are not falling asleep against me sitting upright on the couch,” Logan hissed, flicking his forehead lightly. “It’s awful for your back. And if you were having extreme levels of anxiety, you could have alerted me. I would have been happy to help.”

“You’re warm, though,” the human whined. “Aren’t you supposed to be cold? You’re a winter dude! Let me have the warmth, I’ll use it better than you.”

“My body heat is a biological defense against the conditions I work in, being a ‘winter dude’, as you put it,” he deadpanned. “I believe your exhaustion, mixed with your half-asleep state, has served to deduct from your intelligence and lower your inhibitions.”

“L, listen, I’m far too tired to understand your smart talk, okay?” Anxiety yawned, leaning on him again. “Can we just go to bed? I’ve got school tomorrow.”

“Yes, as do I. I’m accompanying you, remember?” pointed out Logan, before sighing. “Listen, you’re going to be all sore in the morning if you fall asleep upright on the couch. If you insist on making use of my body heat, I would advise we relocate to your room.”

“Why, Logic,” grinned Anxiety, obviously attempting a sultry look but only managing to look mildly dead, what with the shadows under his eyes and how he was squinting to see Logan at all. “Are you inviting me to bed with you?”

“Oh, that’s it,” groaned Logan, standing. “Go to sleep, loser. I will see you in the morning”

“How dare you,” Anxiety protested, attempting to stand as well before getting his legs tangled in the blankets and falling face-first onto the rug. “Ow. Get back here, you living heater!”

“C’mon,” he sighed, tugging on Anxiety’s arms to pull him upright. “Grab your blankets, you dumbass. It’s too late for your shenanigans.”

“Shenanigans, he says,” muttered the human as he gathered the blankets and his pillow into his arms. “Cocky bastard. Like you aren’t just as much of an idiot.”

“Sure,” soothed Logan as they made their way up the stairs again. “There is only an infinitesimal gap in our intellect.”

“Don’t be rude,” Anxiety grumbled as he fell into his bed, curling up on one side. “I regret teaching you human slang, I hope you know that.”

“Oh, I figured,” he grinned, though he knew Anxiety probably couldn’t see it in the darkness, and got under the quilt beside him. “Good night, Anxiety.”

“Night, L,” he heard in muffled response, before the other let out a huff of a laugh. “No homo, right?”

“Oh, very homo,” Logan snorted, rolling his eyes. “Majorly gay.”

“In a platonic way, though,” sighed Anxiety, eyes already shut as he leaned his head on Logan’s arm.

He nodded, because body language didn’t count as lying, not for fey, and now was really not the time to have that discussion with Anxiety. “Ah -- I just nodded,” he made sure to say, in case the other hadn’t felt the motion.

Turns out Logan hadn’t required it, as the purple-haired male only replied with a tired mumbling, clearly already asleep. He’d really needed the rest, huh?

A few hours later, a shrill sound awakened Logan, and he blinked awake to see Anxiety fumbling with the old clock on the nightstand. It was still dark out. “What time is it?” he asked.

“2:30,” Anxiety replied, hitting a button before returning it to the bedside table. “Sorry -- that’s my normal alarm, forgot to turn it off. I reset it for six.”

“You’ve been getting up every morning at 2:30 AM?” he frowned, sitting up properly. “Anx-”

“Don’t worry about it, L,” he sighed in reply, pulling the patchwork quilt back up over his shoulders and turning to face Logan. “We’re sleeping, okay? We’re lying here quietly with our eyes closed and not arguing about my shitty sleep schedule while it’s still dark out.”

“We’re going to discuss this tomorrow,” Logan warned him, but his eyes were already shutting. He was tired too, as much as he hated to admit it while berating Anxiety on his sleeping habits. The other clearly knew, as he let out a quiet laugh and said, “Sleep tight, Logic.”

He tried to respond, but he couldn’t tell if any sound escaped his mouth before everything slipped away.

The second time he woke up, Anxiety was already gone, the alarm beeping quietly. He winced, staring at it -- the old thing looked metal, but he hated the sound, and he knew Anxiety, ever cautious, probably wouldn’t allow anything iron-based near Logan.

He reached over cautiously, gently touching it -- when no burning sensation occured, he found the button to shut the loud clock off. The silence was blissful.

Walking down the stairs a few minutes later, clothed in the attire Anxiety had given him the day before (which he had found on the dresser, folded neatly, and smelling of the strange clothing-soap that humans used) he found the human sitting at the dining table. He was still in his pajamas, one hand curled into his purple curls as the other scribbled something into a notebook.

“What are you doing?” Logan asked, peering at him through the enchanted glasses, and didn’t miss how Anxiety jumped at his voice. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he shrugged, calming slightly. “Just jumpy. Forgot you were here, for a sec.” He glanced down at the notebook, shutting it and standing. “I was writing. Haven’t had much time for it, lately.”

He didn’t reply to that, even though he felt his lips curl into a pensive frown -- he’d decided not to confront Anxiety about these things, not now. If he wanted to talk, he would. At least, Logan hoped he would.

“I see.”

“If you’re already up and dressed, I should probably get ready too,” the other yawned, moving past Logan towards the stairs. “I’ll be down in a few, okay? How do you feel about eggs?”

“They’re a rather strange shape,” he replied, shrugging. “I do not have particularly strong feelings about them either way, although I do prefer the bird variety to the insect -- they can be far prettier, especially bluebird eggs. They’re a lovely shade of blue.”

“I meant for breakfast, L,” Anxiety laughed, leaning over the banister to flick Logan on the forehead. “Go sit. I’ll be down in a few.”

It turned out that sitting quietly at the table was not entirely advisable -- it gave Logan far too much ability to think about how domestic this all was, how he had spent the night in the same bed as an incredibly pretty boy he very much liked, possibly in more than a platonic way, and how he now had to spend all day with the same person under the guise of being a friend from out of town. Logan wasn’t an idiot, either, so he knew that Anxiety’s friends (especially if one of them was Prince) were probably going to think the two of them were actually romantically involved, something he definitely would not be able to deal with right now.

Prince.

He had to focus on that issue, foremost. If the friend of Anxiety’s turned out to not be the Seelie, he could enjoy the day and return to the forest at nightfall, free to mull over his feelings for Anxiety in peace. If he was the faerie Logan knew…

Well. That would be a whole other story.

The walk to Torbrook’s high school had been peaceful, the two arriving relatively early. “We’ve got to check you in with the office,” Anxiety explained, leading Logan through halls lined with metal lockers. He bit his lip at the sight of them, careful to stay in the middle of the hallway. “I’ll do most of the talking -- do your best to look shy, okay? We don’t want them asking you too many questions.” He pushed open the doors to a large office. A woman sitting at a desk waved them through to the room just off of it. “Mr. Poppy wants to see you,” she said. “He’s got your friend’s schedule.”

“Thanks,” Anxiety nodded, pulling them through the doors to the new, smaller room.

“Anxiety!” exclaimed a balding man sitting at the desk, a cheerful smile across his face. “This must be your new friend, then, huh?”

“Yeah. Mr. Poppy, Logic. Logic -- this is our principal.” Anxiety said, shifting uncomfortably.

“It is nice to meet you,” Logan said, casting his eyes towards the ground and waving shyly. Let it be said that although he could not speak untruths, he had perfected lying through his body language and appearance. He could practically hear the man dismantling him in his head -- introvert, nerd, fairly quiet.

“Nice to meet you too, Logic,” the man replied, his smile never faltering. “So, have you recently moved to Torbrook?”

“I will be staying here for a time, yes,” the faerie nodded, adjusting his sleeves. “I may not be here long, but while I am I hope to attend your school.”

He had to pick his words carefully, cautious not to lie even as he had to trick this man. It was the kind of challenge he loved, whether he’d admit it or not.

“I see you filled out the necessary paperwork,” nodded Mr. Poppy, glancing through a file on his desk. “I have your schedule here -- you and Anxiety will be having all the same classes, don’t worry about that! -- so just take it, and he can show you around. Your teachers already know you’re coming, so don’t worry about a thing! And just one more thing -- says here you use he/him pronouns. That’s correct, right?”

“Yes, it is,” Logan nodded, rather surprised at how strangely easy the process had been. Wouldn’t human schools have more… restrictive practices for admitting new students? “Thank you.”

“My son is awfully excited to meet you,” Mr. Poppy grinned, holding out his hand for Logan to shake it. “He was ranting all last night about Anxiety bringing his boyfriend to town.”

Logan felt his face flame, and was suddenly very glad for the illusion covering his cheeks as Anxiety spluttered “Sleep said what?! We’re not -- he’s not-”

“We’re not dating,” he said, rescuing both of their dignities and struggling to keep his voice even. “Just childhood friends.”

“Ah,” Mr. Poppy nodded, chuckling. “Well, glad to meet you anyways. Have a good day, you two!”

“You too, Mr. Poppy!” Anxiety squeaked out, pulling them both out of the room, his face a very bright shade of red. “Oh god, that was a nightmare,” he sighed once they were in the hallway with the door shut behind them. “Boyfriend! I can’t believe Sleep -- I’m going to strangle him!”

“That is one of your friends, correct?” Logan asked, reading the schedule Mr. Poppy had handed him.

“Not anymore,” he grumbled. “C’mon, my friends and Sleep are all in the library right now, so we can go introduce you to them, and then class will start in-” he checked his phone, “-ten minutes.”

He followed Anxiety, who navigated the twisting halls effortlessly. Logan glanced around him, still careful not to get too close to the lockers -- he’d felt the touch of iron once before, as a child, and he still remembered how it had burned.

The library in town had been larger, but still, Logan didn’t think he’d ever get over the excitement of seeing so many books in one place. Anxiety snickered at him, tugging him towards a table in the back, where a person about Logan’s age was sleeping with his head resting on the table.

“Sleep,” Anxiety said to the sunglasses-wearing individual, shaking him gently. “Hey, rise and shine.”

“Anx?” mumbled the sleeping human, who lifted his head slightly before dropping it back onto the table. “Leave me to die here, girl, thanks. I’ve accepted this.”

“Logic, this is our resident dumbass,” Anxiety deadpanned, indicating Sleep with his hand. “It’s okay -- as far as we can tell, having no brain cells whatsoever hasn’t been detrimental to his health.”

Sleep rolled his head to look at Logan, before bolting upwards. “Holy shit, Anxiety, where’d you pick up that?”

“I beg your pardon?” Logan asked, a cold bolt of fear striking his heart. (Had he seen through the illusion? How? What had he done wrong?)

Sleep grabbed Anxiety’s sleeve, tugging him closer, grinning. With Logan’s heightened hearing, he could clearly hear Sleep’s excited whisper: “Listen, if you’re going to be bringing hot boys to school, you tell me!”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” sighed Anxiety, who must have been as nervous as Logan himself judging from how he relaxed even as his face turned pink. “Logic, Sleep. Sleep, this is my friend Logic, the one I did, in fact, tell you was coming.”

“You told me a friend of yours was coming to school -- I didn’t know he was going to be cute! You mention that shit to your bestie, Anx!” Sleep cried, apparently not caring if Logan heard him any longer.

“Mor’s my bestie” Anxiety rolled his eyes, swatting Sleep. “And stop objectifying Logic! Apologize, you asshole.”

Sleep huffed, turning to Logan. “Sorry, hon. I’m Sleep. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna come on to you -- I’m not a homewrecker, and you two are real cute together.”

“Oh for fucks sake, we’re not dating!” Anxiety exclaimed, saving Logan from having to think his way out of that one. “And for that matter, you can’t tell your dad we are, Sleep!”

“It is nice to meet you,” Logan said to the sunglasses-wearing human, finally spotting his chance to speak. “And Anxiety is correct -- we are not courting.”

“Courting? Oh God, he sounds like Prince,” Sleep muttered, before looking around. “Where are Prince and Mor, anyways?”

A shrill sound echoed through the school, harsh on Logan’s sensitive hearing, and he winced. “There’s the bell,” Anxiety frowned. “I guess they’re late, then.”

And so it was only in English that Logan saw him, slightly late, skidding into the classroom with a sweet smile and a mumbling about traffic.

Prince met his eyes, and something flashed deep within them. They no longer held intricate swirls of gold and red -- instead, they were a dark brown, an utterly human color. Still, Logan would recognize him anywhere.

It was obvious that Prince recognized him too, from how his eyes darted from Logan’s rounded ears to his dulled teeth, his softer features and newly colored eyes.

Sleep sat in front of him, napping already, and Anxiety sat at the desk besides Logan’s. No one else had seen fit to take notice of Logan after his introduction by the teacher as a new transfer student, and Mx. Cee was preoccupied glaring at Prince, tapping their foot as he handed them a note from the office.

So he allowed himself a wink, simultaneous greeting and warning.

I see you, it said. I know you.

Prince took an empty seat beside Sleep, unable to look at Logan without incurring Mx. Cee’s wrath, and Logan glanced over at Anxiety.

Is it him? Anxiety mouthed, glancing at their teacher, who was facing the whiteboard as they wrote something.

Logan only nodded.

“What on earth were you thinking?” he exclaimed, pacing in the empty classroom. Prince stood before him, Anxiety sitting on the teacher’s desk and watching both of them with wide eyes. “Do you have any idea how worried we were? Your brother has been frantic, and the Courts are on the verge of civil war because you’ve been gone! The Wolves have been using your absence to advocate for war, Prince. Deceit has been just barely able to talk them down while Talyn and Joan try to soothe the other fey.”

“Oh, you do not get to be all high and mighty now! I thought you hated the Wolves,” Prince snarled, glaring behind Logan. “Let Anxiety go! I can’t tell what magic you’re using on him, but it’s strong enough that you must have found out his true name. You know control is wrong, Logic!”

“You think I’m controlling Anxiety?” Logan asked, momentarily startled into stopping besides where said human sat, staring at Prince. “...Have you met him? He’s unbelievably stubborn. I doubt I could even if I wanted to!”

“Oh, shut up,” Anxiety grumbled, his eyes remaining on Prince and his knuckles turning white where his hands clenched the edge of the desk. “You know you love me.”

“See, it’s comments like that that make everyone think we’re together,” Logan rolled his eyes. “That is just as much your fault as mine, you… What was it? It was one of the flashcards. Something about a facet of human culture that you identify as?”

“Emo?” suggested the human, and Logan nodded.

“Ah, yes. You emo… disaster! Can disaster be used in that context? Okay, it’s not that funny, stop laughing.”

He didn’t even mind Anxiety’s snickering, really. If Logan’s poor memory for human slang made his friend laugh instead of panicking over Prince, he would utilize that. Even if it was rather demeaning.

“Wait, if you’re not controlling him, how did you convince him to help you?” Prince frowned, staring between them. “Anxiety’s not exactly the friendliest of people.”

“He can also hear you, asshole, and would like it if you didn’t talk about me like I’m not here,” retorted the purple-haired male, amusement forgotten as he glared at Prince. “Is that how you made us be friends with you, despite me being so unfriendly? Were you ‘controlling’ us? Does Mor even like you?”

“Of course not!” Prince exclaimed, looking so aghast that even Anxiety looked remorseful. “I would never stoop to such means, Anxiety! Not with you, or Sleep, and especially not with Morality. I… I could never hurt Mor in any way, nor have I, nor will I, ever. I swear it, both on my true name and my honor as a faerie.”

Logan and Anxiety exchanged looks. Prince couldn’t lie, like all fey, and such a specific statement left no grounds for doubt. The human, at least, seemed temporarily reassured, although he kept his eyes on Prince.

“What are you doing in Torbrook?” he finally asked after a beat of silence, removing his glasses with a sigh and leaning back against the absent instructor’s desk. Prince looked up at him sharply, about to speak, but Logan beat him to the punch, explaining “This room has been warded. All of us currently have break periods, and Anxiety has informed me this room is unused during this time, so I have ensured no one will enter, hear anything from it, or see inside. There is little need for extra caution.”

“You charmed glasses?” Prince asked instead, touching his fingers to his eyes and removing his contacts, his eyes reverting to the deep red and golds Logan knew. Anxiety’s jaw dropped, but both of the fey were kind enough not to mention it. “That’s clever, Microsoft Nerd. How’d you get them?”

Microsoft? he wondered, resolving to ask Anxiety about it afterwards. “They are Anxiety’s,” he said. “My clothes, as well. You’re deflecting the question, though -- why are you here? Is it because of your affection for this Morality, or… something else?”

Prince deflated, fidgeting with the sleeves of his crisp white jacket. “Joan and Talyn ordered me here,” he told them quietly, and Logan’s eyes widened. “It was to be a secret from all, including my family and friends. We could not risk mentions of my mission reaching the Wolves.”

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Anxiety said, leaning forwards from his perch. “Who are the Wolves?”

“They are a group of fey who have grown in power as of late,” Logan explained, not taking his eyes off Prince. “They are notorious for advocating for violence and cruelty against humans, including raiding Torbrook to crib-snatch, despite Joan and Talyn having outlawed such barbaric practices hundreds of years ago. We… We met one of their number, years ago. Remember Lady Belladonna?”

He knew Anxiety did -- for years, despite acting unaffected by the events of that day, the human had had nightmares of his near-kidnapping. He had told Logan one night when they were thirteen, lying together in their field and staring up at the stars, a picnic blanket beneath them.

“I don’t want to sleep,” Anxiety confessed, his body warm against Logan’s own, the cool air ruffling their hair.

“Why?” Logan asked, turning his head from the stars above to look at his friend. “I was under the impression humans require sleep like fey do, as something necessary to function properly. Is something the matter? Is it being out here? You can return to your home if you wish, Anxiety, I would not hold it against you.”

“No, no, I like being outside!” he protested, rolling onto his side to face the Unseelie, their eyes meeting in the darkness. “I usually sleep fine. It’s just that… Last night, I had a really bad dream.”

“Do you wish to speak about it?” inquired the faerie. “It is of course alright if you do not, but Advice is always telling me to speak about my problems or nightmares.” He let out a huff. “It does help, but still -- he is only older than me by four months, he is hardly allowed to act grown-up when we are the same age.”

Anxiety laughed quietly at that, but his smile fell as he opened his mouth to speak again. “Do you remember that time when… When I met Deceit? When the faeries tried to take me?”

Logan tensed at that, but he nodded. “Of course,” he said. How could he forget? The thought of it had kept him up for many a night, irrationally… well, anxious, at the idea.

“I sometimes have nightmares about it. About what could have happened,” Anxiety admitted, curling up on himself involuntarily. “If you hadn’t gotten there on time, if you had and they had hurt you, if you had died or something because of me-”

“But I did get there on time, and they were not able to injure me,” Logan told him, reaching out to hold Anxiety’s hand. “You’re my friend. I will not allow you to be harmed if there is any way I can stop it.”

“Aw, you sap,” Anxiety grinned. “You love me.”

“Of course,” Logan rolled his eyes. “My summers would be quite boring without you, and probably my winters as well.”

“Have you seen her since then?” the human boy asked after a beat, and with Logan’s night vision he could see a tear roll down Anxiety’s cheek. Judging from how quickly it was wiped away, his friend did not want it seen or mentioned -- Logan obliged him in the latter. “The woman, the one who wanted to… to hurt me?”

“Yes,” Logan nodded. Lady Belladonna. He would not speak her name aloud inside the forest, especially in the dark -- names had power, even for Unseelie, even in summer. “She is… politically active, is how I believe you would define it, in our Courts. Not successful, usually -- the rulers of both Seelie and Unseelie fey do not support her ideals.”

“Does she remember me?”

“No. As far as any of the three of them know, she cast a spell which backfired on all three of them. She hates to remember it or have it mentioned -- apparently, it was quite embarrassing.” He snickered at the thought. “I can’t tell whether she’d be more mortified by that or the truth: that a faerie no older than eleven managed to catch her off guard, attack her, change her memories, and frame her for the whole thing.”

“She’s never going to find out, though, L,” said Anxiety, frowning. “Right?”

“I promise,” he nodded, and the moon came out from behind a cloud, making the human’s eyes shine. “I told you I’d always protect you, remember?”

“And I’ll do the same for you, Logic,” smiled the other.

A cold breeze rustled through the trees as Logan asked “How are you supposed to do that? You’re human, remember?”

“Listen, just because I’m human doesn’t mean I’m weak or something,” retorted Anxiety, flicking him on the forehead with his free hand. “Don’t be rude.”

“Sure you aren’t,” Logan smirked, baring his sharp teeth, and Anxiety flicked him again, harder this time. “Ow! Weren’t you telling me about your human constellations?”

“You deserved it,” he grumbled, but his eyes returned to the stars, tracing his finger between them. “You see that one there? If you make kind of an X, with one of the sides short -- that’s Cygnus, the swan.”

Logan fell asleep that night to Anxiety’s voice telling him stories of the stars, and when the sun awoke him the next morning the human was asleep too, leaves in his hair and his hand in Logan’s own.

“Wait, how long have you two known each other?” Prince asked, looking between the two of them and snapping Logan out of his memories with the question. “What do you mean you met Belladonna years ago?”

“That’s not super important right now, Princey,” Anxiety rolled his eyes. “Can we focus on the actual issues at hand?”

Prince glared at him, turning to Logan with his arms crossed. “Logic, tell me now, or I won’t tell you anything else.”

“...Anxiety and I have been interacting for the better part of seven years,” he confessed after a beat, ignoring Prince’s offended gasp and Anxiety’s facepalm. “But I have never allowed it to divert me from my duties, and I have only traveled to Torbrook now, after hearing about you from him.”

“You hypocrite,” the Seelie exclaimed, clearly offended. Logan sighed. They did not have time for this. “Seven years? Alright, get off your high horse Mr. ‘Oh, Prince, Why Would You Ever Go Interact With The Humans? It’s So Dangerous!’ Seven years!”

“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” he asked, but Prince wasn’t done yet.

“Does anyone else know?”

“Deceit, as he was there when Belladonna attempted to take Anxiety, but I erased his memories-”

“Deceit?!” Prince cried, hand to his heart as he cut off Logan. “Before me? Logic, how could you?”

“I just explained his memories were erased-”

“Me, the greatest of your friends-”

“You never have been, and never will be, the greatest of my friends.”

“-not told about your secret boyfriend! How could you?”

“Anxiety and I are not courting, Prince, we have established this repeatedly!”

“And then you have the gall to tell me I’m irresponsible for going off and getting a boyfriend!”

“We thought you were dead,” Logan snapped, and Prince’s rant came to a halt at that. “No, actually, we didn’t know what to think, because you were gone and hadn’t told Duke, or Advice, or Deceit, or me where you were going, you hadn’t told anyone, and Joan and Talyn had clearly been trying to keep the little fact that you were missing under wraps. We’re nearly in at war because of you, Prince, so yes, I’m going to be a bit mad that while we were preventing Duke from tearing apart the realm and navigating unrest from the Wolves, Seelie, and Unseelie, you were off kissing a human and having a grand old time!”

“Logic-” Prince began, subdued, but Logan wasn’t done, and he was sick and tired of being interrupted.

“Yes, I have known Anxiety for seven years. I never let it divert me from my work, I never up and disappeared because of it, and I never risked coming into Torbrook for it. I only did that when I heard you might be here, because again, we thought you were dead!” He felt a hand (belonging to the purple-haired male, no doubt) on his back, tapping a gentle beat into the skin, and he recognized it in the back of his mind -- 4, 7, 8, a technique Anxiety had taught him many years ago, and the same one he had led the human through just a few days past. He calmed, continuing after a beat, “I understand that Talyn and Joan sent you here for a reason, based on your earlier statement. I apologize for snapping at you -- it is not as if you could defy them, after all.”

“I… I’m so sorry, Lo,” Prince said, crestfallen. “I had no idea, I thought -- I assumed they would figure out a way to hide or mask my absence. My quest was so sudden, I had no time to ensure they did.”

“It’s alright,” Logan told him with a sigh, and at the skeptical look on both the Seelie and human’s faces, he rolled his eyes. “Truly, it is. But I would like to know what was so vital that you had to come to the home of the humans to do it.”

“There is something strange going on in this town,” Prince began, rolling his eyes at Anxiety’s mutter of “No shit, Sherlock.” “Not just your sleep schedule, Michael Mell-ancholy.”

“Be more chill, Princey, getting worked up doesn’t suit you,” Anxiety smirked, and Logan sighed.

“What do you mean by strange?” he asked, reaching over to where Anxiety sat beside him and lightly swatting his friend on the leg.

“Do you ever think about how fey have never tried to go anywhere other than Torbrook?” Prince leaned forwards, an unusual seriousness transforming his features. “It’s weird, isn’t it? We never try to make our way into other locales, even though this town knows how to defend against us by now. Even the Wolves don’t try to get further into the human world. Why do we all stay here?”

“The only portal is to the forest here,” Logan responded, but even as he said it, he frowned. There had to be other entrances to the human world -- not all stories of his kind had originated from Torbrook, after all. But then… “What happened to all the others?”

“See, that’s what I asked, too,” Prince nodded. “Turns out, no one knows. Talyn and Joan have been searching for the other entrances to Earth for centuries, but the only active one they’ve ever been able to find is here. They asked Deceit and I to check the records a few years ago, and that’s where it gets even weirder -- all the other doorways vanished at the same time this one became notedly popular for fey to travel though. Torbrook is the last portal from our realm to this one, and no one knows why, or how.”

Logan stared at him, eyes wide. “And we’ve never tried to get past this place,” he said slowly. “We’ve never tried to leave, to see the world. We’ve just… accepted being in this place.”

It went against faerie nature, this idea of stability, of constants. Fey were tricksters, and travellers -- and now that Logan thought about it, in the old stories, they were loners, just like he would normally classify himself to be.

And now they clustered together in a forest, content to lurk in a single place, barely leaving the trees because they feared the iron, being caught, being hunted. They feared humans.

“What has been done to us?” Logan asked quietly, nails digging into his palms.

“We thought… We thought originally it was the humans’ fault,” Prince said, equally low, with a guilty glance at Anxiety, who seemed to have caught on to the truth, judging by the look on his face. He’s always liked stories, especially of fey, Logan thought. It would make sense, him putting the pieces together. “But then we recalled that humans can’t seem to leave Torbrook either, not permanently, and how distressed that seems to make them. How, as much as they hate it here, they all remain.”

Anxiety and Logan exchanged looks, both remembering their conversation of a few days ago, and Anxiety’s own anguish at his inability to leave Torbrook.

“We can’t, no,” Anxiety shook his head, sliding down from his perch on the desk to stand beside Logan. “Are you saying we’re all trapped in this hellhole?”

“It certainly looks that way,” Prince nodded. “That’s why I’m here. Talyn and Joan want me to figure out why. But I… Well, clearly, I haven’t had much luck.” He stared at the table before him, tapping his painted nails on the wood nervously.

Logan and Anxiety had been able to have silent conversations since they were children. Perhaps it was being friends for so long or truly something more, but as they exchanged looks, Logan knew exactly what the other was thinking. He agreed, of course.

“We’re going to help you,” Anxiety said, for the both of them.

“You are?” Prince asked, surprise flashing through his eyes. Logan held back a frown at that -- it made the other faerie seem vulnerable, as if he’d been expecting both of his friends (at least, Logan liked to think he was Prince’s friend, and he could tell Anxiety certainly was) to abandon him, despite his clear distress.

“Of course,” Logan replied. “I believe we are… buddies, as you might say, and you appear to need aid. It is a rather momentous task, especially since the humans have spent years unable to deduce their own inability to leave Torbrook, and we would be happy to help. Although, you will have to inform your brother and the Courts that you are alright, sooner rather than later, to maintain my cooperation.”

“Are we still friends?” He was looking not at Logan, but at Anxiety, bearing an almost desperate expression, and the human’s face softened.

“I hope so,” Anxiety said. “I’m sorry I accused you of controlling Morality and Sleep and I. Even I should have realized that was unfair, especially since I was able to question it in the first place. Besides…” He laughed. “I see how much Mor likes you, and I doubt magic could fake that. I can’t see you using that to make him gush about you in private, either -- that would be incredibly self-centered, even for you.”

“He talks to you about me?” asked Prince, with such a lovestruck look that Logan had to resist the urge to gag. “What does he say?”

“Not the point,” Anxiety rolled his eyes. “Ew, get that look off your face.”

“Ah, yes. Er…” The other had enough grace to be flustered, clearing his throat as he returned his contacts to his eyes, the magic shimmering as the spell on the small items spread to mask their color entirely. “It’s alright, Anxiety. Your fear was not unfounded, after all, given my true nature, and I would not have reacted well in your place. No apology necessary.”

“I still was a dick though,” said Anxiety, before he checked his watch and straightened abruptly. “It’s almost time for theatre,” he gasped. “I promised Mariposa I’d be there early to make sure we’ve got all the props set up before we start. Princey, can you show Logic the way? We’ve got shared schedules, and I can put him to work painting sets or something.”

“Sure,” the Seelie nodded, waving as Anxiety sprinted out of the room, before turning to Logan with a grin. “So. You and Anx?”

“What are you implying?” he asked, eyes narrowing as he put his glasses back on. “I have told you repeatedly we are not in a romantic relationship.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t want to be, though,” Prince reminded him, resting his cheeks on his fists with an infuriating smile. “Does Tall, Dark, and Serious have a crush on his little human friend?”

“Don’t be a fool,” Logan snapped, moving towards the door. “Come, we must get to class.”

He’d forgotten just how quick Prince was -- the smaller faerie moved to block his path, looking up at Logan. “Just say it,” the faerie whispered gleefully. “Just say, ‘I don’t have a crush on Anxiety,’ and I’ll let you be, Logic.”

Well, shit.

Logan’s silence was all the answer Prince needed, the Seelie letting out a gleeful cheer. “Aw!” he squealed. “I told Anxiety he’d find himself a Romeo, but I didn’t expect him to be so true to the tale!”

“I certainly hope I’m not Romeo,” he sighed. “He was far older than Juliet, firstly, and their story also ended with a double suicide.”

That response only seemed to make Prince more amused, as he was still saying something about him and Anxiety apparently being perfect for each other when Logan grabbed him by the ear and pulled him out of the classroom, dissipating the wards with a wave of his hand. “Ow!”

“You are going to tell me where we are supposed to be headed to,” Logan told him, crouching slightly so he and the short faerie were at eye level in the empty hallways. “And then you will not say a word to Anxiety.”

“But I could set you up or something!” Prince protested, hands on his hips. “C’mon, Lo, you’d be so cute together!”

“He has enough on his plate without dealing with me,” Logan shook his head. “Besides, not only am I quite certain he is not interested in me romantically, he also is hoping to go off to college by next year, provided that he has enough money saved for both himself and his grandmother, and can acquire a scholarship. If we cannot solve this issue before then, I do not want to endanger his dreams.”

“...Why is he saving for his grandmother?” asked Prince with a frown, playful nature lost. “I knew he was saving for college, but she has a job that’s supported them both for years. Mor told me she’s an artist of some sort, and it apparently sells quite well.”

Logan stared at him. “You don’t know?” he said, ice filling his veins.

“Know what? Is Robin okay? I’ve only met her a few times, but she’s absolutely lovely. I haven’t seen her since December, of course, because that’s when Anxiety started his job and we stopped picking him up…” His words trailed off, his eyes full of concern and worry.

Fuck, Logan thought. Fuck, fuck, FUCK.

Clearly, Anxiety hadn’t told his friends about his grandmother’s sickness, or her indefinite stay in the hospital. It wasn’t Logan’s secret to share, he knew that, and though he and Anxiety would have words about this (He had thought Anxiety would tell his friends, of course he had! But if he hadn’t… Had he told anyone? How long had he been dealing with all of this completely alone?) he wasn’t about to spill the human’s secrets to Prince.

“He’s been worried about her ability to care for herself as of late,” he said, choosing his words very carefully. “She is fine,” (hadn’t Anxiety told him recently she was doing well and past the danger threshold, only being held in the elderly hospital for ease of treatment?) “but he gets quite anxious, you know how he is.”

“Oh.” The Seelie relaxed, his concern now seemingly directed at Logan and oh no, ew, feelings-

“I hardly think you’d be endangering his dreams,” Prince told him, offering Logan a comforting pat on the upper arm, probably because he couldn’t comfortably reach the Unseelie’s shoulder. “He might as well be the posterboy for a gay disaster, he could use a boyfriend for support in these trying times!”

The bell rang, and students began to flood the halls. Logan sighed. “I hardly think that would help his stress,” he said. “Now, show me to this classroom, and do not breathe a word of this to Anxiety, or anyone else.”

“Okay,” Prince smirked, leading Logan through the halls.

“Swear it,” Logan growled.

“Oh, fine,” the Seelie rolled his eyes. “I won’t tell anyone about that conversation we just had, none of it at all. I swear it. Even though I will be trying to set up you two, because honestly you guys will be the cutest thing this town has seen since Morality and I!”

“Don’t you dare!” he hissed, glaring at Prince, who simply laughed in response.

Deep in his mind, Logan let out a sigh of relief. He had been truly worried about Prince -- finding him was truly a relief, even if the news that accompanied it wasn’t.

For a moment, his thoughts darted away from his cautious grasp, pushing forwards wayward dreams. What if he could leave these woods, and Torbrook itself? Could he visit Anxiety, when he was off at college? Would he be able to join the human, if he decided to leave Torbrook permanently?

Could they have something together?

That was when he grabbed the reins again, steering his mind away from that particular train of thought. It was foolish to consider such things now, especially since Anxiety was a human. He would long outlive the other, as a faerie, and he knew such a thing would kill him if he allowed himself to get too close. Imagining a life with Anxiety, idyllic as it was, also came with imagining his death, and the millenia Logan would face without him.

It was better if he didn’t consider it at all, really.

So he followed Prince through the halls, shoving thoughts of his friend out of his mind -- for Logan did not love him. He couldn’t.

They would not be Romeo and Juliet, not now, not ever.

That was how the story would have to be.

16 notes · View notes

adscititious-cacoethes · 7 years

Note

(Gonna start by saying that I used to be bitchinameatsuit so helloooo I have not disappeared haha) But I come bearing prompts! Something fluffy with Miles! I'm talking, sickly sweet, domestic type fluff- the situation can be whatever you wish- as long as it rots my teeth, I will be happy 😂👌

Hiya! I know you asked for teeth-rotting fluff, and I don’t know if I delivered quite that, but I tried my best and it’s definitely fluffy! I’m sorry this took a bit, I’m experiencing the “pre-going back to college” blues at the moment. I hope you like it!!!

Pairing: Miles/readerWarnings: Fluff, swearing, feeling kinda down (just a little bit, based off of my own life at the moment).

You can send me prompts here, read prompting “rules” here, or read my other stuff here!

For whatever reason, you woke up sad that morning. It wasn’tanything you could pinpoint, just that tug at your gut that brought you down.You rolled over in your boyfriend’s arms and started poking his cheek gently.

“Miilllessss,” You drew his name out, like it was perhapsthe most difficult thing in the world, “wake up.”

“Hmm?” Miles finally stirred, groggily opening his eyes andbeaming once he saw your face.

“Morning, sunshine.” He said softly, and you felt that tugat your gut again.

You ducked your head and buried it in Miles’ chest.

“Do you just not want to get up or is something wrong,[Y/N]?” He asked, bringing one hand up to stroke your hair.

“Sad,” You mumbled, the hairs on his chest tickling yournose, “don’t know why.”

You felt Miles shift, “Well, let me fix that, then. You stayhere, princess, I’ll be right back.”

It took a few minutes because you were clinging onto himlike a koala, but eventually Miles managed to get up and tuck the covers aroundyou. You tried to listen intently to what he was doing (you’d get up but youknew Miles would look like a kicked puppy if you did), but after a few minutesyou dosed off.

You were pulled out of sleep by Miles softly saying yourname and the smell of delicious breakfast foods. Blinking your eyes open, yousaw Miles perched on the edge of your bed, a lapdesk and a glass of milk in onehand and a plate piled high with your favorite breakfast foods in the other.

“I couldn’t find a tray, even though I know you have some,so a lapdesk will have to do.” He said, smiling sheepishly.

“It’s perfect, thank you, love.” You assured him, pushingyourself up into a sitting position and letting him fuss with pillows andarrangements before handing you the plate. Once you were properly settled andstarted eating, Miles left the room and came back with two mugs of steaming hotcoffee. He set yours on the nightstand before circling around the other side ofthe bed and sliding into it, pressing his side up against yours and taking along sip.

“So, after breakfast, I need you to get ready, yeah? We’regoing to go shopping, and then take a walk in the park to see all the dogs outon this lovely Saturday, and get some tacos or something for lunch, and then we’llgo pet the dogs at the animal shelter. Then we can come home and cuddle andwatch shitty TV or whatever. Sound good?” He asked, turning to you.

You nodded, “Yeah, Miles. Sounds great.” That tug was backin your lungs, pushing into your stomach, but you tried to will it to go away.

“If it’s too much, let me know. I just want to do what makesyou happy, [Y/N].” Miles said earnestly, running his fingers through your hair.

“No, I think – I think it’ll be good. It’s hard to tellcause the sads are just kinda coating overtop.” You admitted.

Miles sighed and pressed a kiss to your temple, “I got you.Don’t you worry about a thing, okay? Dr. Miles is in and he’s got aprescription to cure your affliction.” He wiggled his eyebrows, which made youlaugh despite yourself.

“Alright, Doc, whatever you say.” You teased, taking a sipof your coffee.

It was perfect, just how you liked it, and for a moment youjust stared at Miles as he told you a story about work and wondered how youmanaged to be so lucky.

The two of you spent a while flitting in and out of stores,Miles insisting that the two of you try on the most ridiculous items you could findin each one, your boyfriend flooding snap chat with goofy pictures of the twoof you. You felt that tug, still, something in the back of your mind insistingthat you needed to be sad, right now,but Miles seemed to have a sixth sense for it – making you smile and laugh andsacrificing his dignity for your enjoyment every time you started to payattention to it.

After your (admittedly few) purchases were safely in Miles’car, you walked over to the park, Miles dragging you by the hand to each andevery dog you saw. You laughed at his enthusiasm and smiled fondly at the wayhis eyes lit up as he thought of new adjectives to describe each dog, cooing ashe pet them.

Once you got to the other end of the park, your stomachgrowled, and Miles dragged you out of the park and to the nearesthole-in-the-wall. Although you’d never been, the food was admittedly delicious,and Miles provided entertainment by giving each person who walked past the windowabsurd, over-the-top character traits. Every once and a while, he’d pausemid-sentence, look at you with excited, sparkling eyes, and exclaim “that’s a good one!” before scribblingit down on a napkin.

“Alright, what’s next on the list, babe?” You asked once thetwo of you were sufficiently fed and had exited the restaurant (even though youknew the answer).

“Well, next is the animal shelter, but we have to walk backthrough the park to get to my car, first.” Miles chirped brightly.

You threw your head back dramatically and whined, “But Miles, I’m tired, it’s so far.”

You were only joking, teasing Miles for the sake of teasing,but before you could register what was going on, he was bending down so thatyou could hop onto his back.

“I may not be physically fit enough to carry you all the waythere, but damnit I’m gonna try.” He announced, and you cautiously climbed ontohis back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Away!” Miles shouted and started trotting down the street,making you dissolve into giggles and bury your face in his shoulder. To thesurprise of both of you, Miles was able to make it all the way back to theparking lot.

“I am not going to work out for a week, damn, I love you, Ipromise you’re not heavy, but JesusChrist, [Y/N], that was a lot further than I thought it would be.” Milespanted as the two of you slid into his car.

“At least it’s cool and there’s a nice breeze today.” Youcommented, ignoring the shame tugging at your gut for making Miles carry you.

“Before you get all in your head about it, you didn’t makeme do anything, I carried you through the park on my own volition.” Miles toldyou as he backed out of his parking space and pulled into traffic, headingtowards the animal shelter. Once he was safely on the road, he let his righthand fall onto your knee, squeezing gently.

“Okay.” You said, pressing a kiss to his cheek and smiling.

It was probably the cutest dog you had ever seen in yourentire life. She was small and brown and cuddly and he name was Pickles and fuck Miles because you were in love.With literal tons of heart emojis attached.

“You like her?” Miles asked, shuffling over on his knees towhere you were sitting, Pickles crawling into your lap with a chew toy in hermouth.

“She’s literally the most adorable dog I have ever laid eyeson in my entire life.” You told him, fixing him with a grave stare. Mileslaughed and kissed your forehead before scratching Pickles behind the ears. Shepaused her chewing to give his hand a couple of licks, which made Miles scrunchhis nose up, but he let the puppy do it, anyway.

“Great! Let’s get her.” He said, like it was the mostlogical thing in the world.

“What?” You whipped your head around to look at him.

This must be a joke,you thought to yourself, staring at your boyfriend in disbelief. He justsmirked at you a bit.

“Whaddaya mean, what? You love her, I love you, the apartmentis pet-friendly, dogs are great. It makes sense.”

You squealed,throwing your arms around Miles and pulling him into you in an awkward,off-balance hug. Miles just laughed and hugged you back, waving over anemployee with one hand. Miles made you stay there with Pickles while he did allthe paperwork, citing “mother-daughter bonding time,” and soon enough, the twoof you (plus your new furry child) were back in Miles’ car.

Miles insisted that you stopped at the pet store, and heheld Pickles in his arms, following you dutifully with a bright smile on hisface while you darted around the store, picking out toys and treats andaccessories.

Later that night, the remains of Chinese takeout scatteredon the coffee table and the two of you snuggled together on the couch, wrappedup in blankets and watching your favorite TV show while Pickles snored softlyin your lap, you realized that you couldn’t remember the last time you feltthat tug of sadness in your gut that day.

“Thank you, Miles.” You whispered, leaning up to press akiss to his jaw.

“Anything for you, [Y/N]. Did you have fun today?” He asked,squeezing the arm wrapped around you just a littletighter.

“Yes, yes I did.” You confirmed. You saw the edges of asmile pulling at Miles’ lips.

“Good. God, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You knew that tomorrow morning, you might very well wake upwith that inexplicable tug again, but you also knew that Miles would be thereand he knew just how to chase it away.

#eloquentvellichor #prompts #replies #miles x reader #fluff #rt reader insert

24 notes · View notes