#i wanted to mimic her silly little gestures a bit & it let me play with hand directions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrskurono · 3 years

Text

Schweiden Sex Education: Intercourse || Wakatoshi Ushijima x Fem!Reader

Tags: mention of insecurities, vaginal penetration, slight size kink, soft sex, creampie, sex bruh

Character(s): Wakatoshi Ushijima (hq)

Word Count: 2.2k

a/n: this will be the final installment of this mini series, ngl it ended up more popular and more touchy feely than I thought it would. thank you everyone for reading <3

part (1) (2)

inter·course /ˈin(t)ərˌkôrs/

noun; sexual contact between individuals involving penetration

“Do you hate her?”

Ushijima blinked a handful of times at the voice going unregistered to him. Korai of course had to repeat himself.

“Do you hate our manager or something?” The second to newest Schweiden member craned his neck around to look at the same lady talking with the captain, “I mean...even since I started last season it seems like it but I dunno, do you just hate her or something?”

No longer the new guys, Ushijima still felt confused on what his teammate meant, “Why would you say that? I’ve never said that.”

Korai shrugged. White haired man taking the ball from his bigger mates grasp and chucking the volleyball at the real newbie coming into the gym when Tobio arrived. Korai gut laughed when the dark haired man didn’t catch it and only wasted a little more time before wiping at his eyes to look back at Ushijima with what he’d just said, “You spend so much time staring at her. Thought maybe you hated it her since never talked to her.”

Ushijima’s brows pinched in the middle with the deepest furrow, “I never said I hated anyone.”

Once more with a shrug Korai figured he’d drop it, “Well man, if you don’t hate her. You must have one hell of a crush on her then.”

The word rung in his head when you said it.

Sex.

You were naked under him. Rightfully so after his first attempt to bring you, or any woman, to an orgasm. He should feel proud if not a little smug. All he felt was nervous.

“Ok....sex,” You inhaled deeply now that most of your senses was collected. The real thing felt a lot different than your own hand and the same scenario being lit up on the tiny screen of your phone. Slight tingle from that orgasm you were wondering if you had been that hard up for a hook up. Dashing that from your mind you refocus on the Schweiden player before you, “I mean...I guess there’s not a lot to say about it. I’m sure you’ve seen porn or Korai I’m pretty sure played something off of Pornhub in the locker room at least once.”

That light anecdote didn’t seem to tear the man’s concentration away from you. Leaving you to wiggle a bit and get higher up on the bed. Thinking maybe he was going to follow. Ushijima remained staring at you with that all too familiar look on his face. A look you recall years worth of seeing from across the gyms at practice.

Without warning it dawns on you, maybe he doesn’t actually want to have sex with you. A feeling nothing short of claustrophobic when it hits you. The tingle you’ve felt since the locker room fizzles out with vigor. You’re exposed. Silly. Regretful. Suddenly to recount your words.

“I mean-” You stumble over words falling from your lips while looking up at him and trying to cover some part of you, “We don’t have to- Um Ushiwa- Uh Ushijima- I uh it’s fine if you don’t want to we can just forget this-”

“I don’t hate you.”

The slur of words from your mouth catch. His surprising you more. You stop trying to cover yourself with what little blanket you can up root. Instead your brows furrow uncharacteristically at him at the foot of the bed.

“What?”

Olive eyes dropping from you it’s the first time since he joined three years ago that you saw him actually break eye contact first. You’re nothing short of surprised when Ushijima, still naked, sits back on the edge of the bed. Easing up on the need to cover yourself. You realize he’s talking about something entirely different.

Brows pinched together you ask again what he meant. Crawling towards him now. Kneeling beside him unsure if you should lay a hand on him or something. His face seems complacent like normal but with the way he sounded. It just didn’t sound right to you.

Ushijima lifts his gaze to meet your naked body right next to his. Of course he couldn’t tear them away from your form before him. All those times he’d stared at you over the years. Only now realizing he’d been trying to think what you looked like in this exact light.

“...I...Korai thought I hated you,” He confesses in the weirdest manner. Finding the one thing he couldn’t take his eyes off of wasn’t your naked body. But your face, “I don’t....I never did. I just- I think I love you and it might have been my fault if I-”

Cut off directly by the feeling of your lips against his. There’s a spilt second the man doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Only to be thankful when he felt your hands gently take his and place them on your sides. Getting the gesture Ushijima curled his broad arms around your bare waist just as you curled your own arms around his neck. Delaying the need for a breath in the passionate kiss until finally neither of you could hold out.

“Lets make love instead,” You mutter against his lips. Feeling for the first time Ushijima trying to push back into the kiss like he wasn’t ready for it to end just yet. Drawing your fingers down from the nape of his neck. Small circles over his collar bone to dip down between his well defined chest, you look up at him and smile, “...because I think I might be in love with you.”

Nothing short of a glimmer in the otherwise deadpan expression. Ushijima for the first time since the locker roomer took a kiss from you. Not just taking it. He downright kissed you back into the middle of the bed. Lips never leaving yours it was barely any fumbling as he scooped his big hands under your bottom and pulled you into his hips. Leaving you to hold onto his shoulders as the urgency of the kiss translated over to your movements together.

Sooner than later you felt his cock rub against your inner thigh. Only breaking the kiss enough as you kissed his cheek and the corner of his mouth with a breathy whisper, “Put it in...please, I want you to do it.”

Nodding there wasn’t a question to be asked. Ushijima understood more than anything where he wanted his cock to go. You telling him only sealed the fact he craved no one else.

Gripping his cock there’s a second when you adjust your hips and allow his length to slip up between your soaked folds. Earning a pleasant moan to bubble up between your lips. Any other time you might have been worried to take someone so big. But that was the last thing in your mind right now. Consumed with need all you could think of was the stretch of his cock inside you.

Rewarded with the real thing faster than anything else. You gasp. Making him stop half way to which you panic and tell him through a loud moan to keep going. Ushijima can’t stop but sink his thick cock down to the base in your sopping wet cunt. Nothing he could even imagine prepared him for this.

“W-Warm-” The low rumble of a moan echoed in his chest. Ushijima unsure what to do pushed his lips back onto yours. Just the way your walls clenched around him and you engulfed his senses was ethereal to him.

“Move....how you wanna,” You whisper against his lips, “I want you to fuck me like you’ve been wanting to all these years.”

There was hesitation. You were right he had seen porn and what they did. But none of that seemed desirable. Right now all he wanted to do was feel you. Consume you. Make every fiber of his being tingle with your body.

Slow to start Ushijima began rocking his hips into yours. Each movement earning more than just a lowly moan from you. Assured that it was wonderful by your praise and touching all over him. Soon it became a need for him to snap his hips into yours. Watch you squirm under him, mouth agape and eyes locked onto him. Everything intoxicating to every single sense the man had.

“ ‘gonna cum-” You bite back a moan as your hips bounce with each forceful thrust, “I- I think I’m gonna cum-”

“Please-” Ushijima buried his face into the crook of your neck, panting, thrusts hard and deep as he felt himself approaching a familiar feeling, “Please cum- I want you-”

Tongue gliding over your parted lips and swallowing the knot in your throat. It’s nothing like the knot growing in your stomach. Boxed in completely by the enormous man above you. It’s hardly possible to snake your hand down to your clit. But when you do your free hand gripes the back of his neck as your fingers dance around your already sensitive bud, “I- It’s too much- Fuck-”

For a split second he wonders what is too much but that is dashed when the shudder in your body starts at your toes and every inch of you twitches under him. Sealing the deal for Ushijima when he feels nothing short of heaven when your cunt tightens around him in a way no mouth or hand could ever mimic. All that stamina in the world for nothing when he pushes his hips into yours. Desperate to follow your lead.

Rutting into you as deep as he can until the warm gush of cum overflows into your cunt. You’d never felt anything so intimate yet even as his lips found yours to kiss you. The twitch of Ushijima’s cock with each spurt of cum had you moaning into the kiss like a virgin all over again.

Both of you breathing harder than expected into the kiss. Finally came down from the high. His cock still buried in you and most of your body limp under him. You take a moment to swallow as you look up at the man before you. This time he was staring but you didn’t feel the need to turn away. Instead you smiled at him with a little giggle. And for the first time in nearly four years, Ushijima smiled back at you.

Minor Epilogue ;|

“Where’s Ushiwaka?” Korai dribbled the volleyball as he looked back towards the locker room.

Tobio looked up from his bottle after fiddling with the lid, “Hirugami didn’t say anything?”

White brows pinched together Korai bounced the ball as high as he could manage and huffed, “This is day three! He’s late and we get to wait for him!”

“You could just practice with Romeo and Sokolov before he comes.” Tobio offered without much concern as he grabbed the volleyball before Korai could catch it.

“Don’t break the lights Hoshiumi!” Hirugami shouted across the gym as he caught sight of one of the second youngest Schweiden harassing the volleyballs.

Grumbling to himself Korai snatched the ball back from Tobio, “Of course Hirugami-san!” Content with dribbling the ball at a much more manageable height, Korai looked around for a short stint at attendance, “You notice our manager has been late recently too?”

“And?” Tobio shouldered his duffel bag without a chance of even feigning interest in his teammates rant.

Brows still pinched Korai glared out at the double doors of the Schweiden’s gym, “I bet they’re hooking up. I bet- Look!” Korai skidded to a stop mid sentence when through the double doors it was the late Schweiden in question. Undoubtedly with their manager at his side. Like a detective Korai pounced on the chance to interrogate them but that was lost among the chaos when all of the Scweiden team witnessed Ushijima lean down and give their ever so wonderful team manager a kiss on the lips.

That’s when all insanity broke loose.

Korai was on them like stink on shit. Tobio and Toshiro ready to intercept Korai before his rabid-ness scared the new love birds away. Tatsuto wanting a better look at the drama amongst the crew. Leaving Fukuro and Nicollas to exchange glances at each other as they hoisted up the volleyball net.

“Is that Ushijima and y/n?” Nicollas peered over to the bustling drama at the front of the gym.

Fukuro, minding his own business, nodded, “Think they’ve been going out for a while now.”

Smiling as Ushijima’s face seemed stone serious as ever and y/n’s face flush red as the white haired Schweiden had some serious question, Nicollas laughed as remembered that feeling, “Ah young love....wish there was an educational course one could take when learning the affairs of the heart.”

Fukuro snort laughed and tightened the bindings on the net they’d be using for practice if they ever stopped their gawking, “Yeah, we call that sex ed here.”

Nicollas chuckled when he saw their lovely manager punch Korai in the side. Revealing the oddest sight of Ushijima smiling ever so slightly on his stoic features while the rest of the Scweiden’s rallied around the new couple as the two seniors could only stand back and laugh, “Sex and love education....I think we could all use that.”

a/n: The end is finally here! Honestly I can’t believe I’ve actually finished a series in the first place! To everyone who’s read and supported it thank you from the bottom of my heart. This was too much fun to write and I won’t lie I might have a little soft spot in my heart for Ushijima now <3

606 notes · View notes

cellard0ors · 3 years

Text

Fic: Movement (4/5)

Still working on this for @peachworthy. Should wrap up sometime this week or next and then the full thing'll get posted to AO3. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 here for now!

They decide to do it on a Saturday night.

Link has the weekend off from work and no classes. Rhett’s schedule is also free. They discuss the matter in terse terms, both seeming nervous about the idea, but neither backing down.

As such, Saturday rolls around with little fanfare until late into the evening. An evening that finds Link sitting on the couch, one of his legs jiggling and bouncing about as he waits for Rhett.

Rhett comes out to the living room holding a pillow and he offers it to Link. Link looks at it with some confusion and his friend clears his throat, eyes darting away, “For your lap.”

“My-?” Link looks down and then to Rhett and then…oh. Link colors, realizing that the pillow is to be used in order to cover any potentially ‘arising’ situation on his part. Feel exposed yet stubborn, he remarks dryly, “Don’t think I’ll need that.”

Rhett lets out a loud laugh and pats him in the chest with it, “Trust me. If I’ve done my job right? You will.”

“…point taken,” Link says softly and he takes the pillow, settling it over his crotch. To be fair, he probably will pop wood. After all, he sometimes pops it when Rhett’s full clothed.

Nude?

Yeah.

Link presses down on the pillow harder, even the errant thought of a nude Rhett causing a stirring. Rhett walks to the television and fiddles with the remote.

An app that Link’s noticed before, but never bothered with, is clicked on. Erotes Plus. The screenshots for the videos that come up are…certainly something. Link looks away, almost overwhelmed by all the bare flesh before him. The titles of the videos are also a bit much. Rhett notices and Link can hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “Prude.”

Link scowls and glares back at him and the screen. He is nota prude. However, titles such as ‘Lonely Housewife Squirts for The First Time’ and ‘He Rides His Daddy Dry’ would take anybody aback. At least Link would like to think so – he supposes some people are more immune than others. After all, his own history with porn is on the small side.

During puberty he’d taken his healthy peeks at nude magazines and a few of his friends had snuck out adult VHS tapes to check out, but for the most part it hadn’t interested him. Granted, this was probably due to his eventual discovery that – while he appreciated the female form – it didn’t draw his interest quite like the male one did.

And finding gay porn? Where he grew up? Yeah, pretty much a completely impossibility. And then – when he’d finally managed to snag some – it had, once more, disappointed. It all just seemed so cold and callous. Like a business transaction with a boatload of grunting. Not at all to his tastes.

Rhett, scrolling through the videos, finally finds one titled simply ‘Movement’ and turns to Link with an apprehensive glance, “Still plenty of time to say ‘no’.”

Link’s throat is dry. Unlike some of the other screenshots, this one is vaguer. It’s two forms silhouetted in shadow. One of those forms is Rhett. Link feels numb as he speaks, “I’m good.”

Rhett clicks the video and it begins.

He moves over and sits near Link, lounging against the other side of the couch in an oh-so-casual way. As if an adult video starring him hasn’t just begun to play.

The film opens with a lithe redhead in a yoga outfit doing various poses. While this is being shown the title card appears followed by the starring and since Link highly doubts Rhett goes by ‘Jenessa Star’, he can’t help but chuckle at, “‘Donatello Velvet’?”

“What?” Rhett asks simply and Link gestures to the television, “That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Problem?”

“That’s the screen name you chose?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just don’t see you as a ‘Donatello’,” Link grins at him and Rhett laughs, rubbing one finger along his top lip thoughtfully, “What would you’d’ve gone with then?”

“If I was doing adult film?” Link asks and at Rhett’s nod, he crosses his arms and thinks, “I don’t know…Bevin, maybe?”

Rhett tosses his head back and laughs and Link feels a fissure of delight at that sound, just as he always does. He turns back and the redhead’s poses have become…much more complex. Almost painful looking as she contorts herself to degrees Link wouldn’t think possible and then she rises, stretching out and that’s when Rhett enters.

Or maybe it would be better to think of it as Donatello enters. Yes, it’s a little easier that way and Link does his best to cling to that, to try and stay nonchalant as he offers dryly, “Well, well – there’s a familiar lookin’ fella.”

Rhett just hums and they both watch as he walks up to the woman. He runs his hands along her shoulders and down her arms, whispering into her neck huskily, “Good form.”

Link can’t help but let out a snort. Rhett rolls his eyes, “Okay, okay – I know, I know. Dialogue’s a bit-?”

“Bad?”

“…it could use some improvement.”

“Uh huh,” Link just beams and hey, this isn’t so bad. Cheesy and kind of silly and maybe it will just stay like this. Light and fun. For all Link knows, they won’t even watch the whole thing. Maybe just some of it and then they can turn on something els-!

Rhett begins kissing Jenessa’s neck, white teeth visibly dragging along her skin and Link’s whole body tightens. A phantom sting starts along the same side of his neck that Rhett’s touching on Jenessa. Jenessa’s whole throat arches back, a pleasured moan leaving her and Rhett’s tongue is…very pink.

Link’s Adam’s apple bobs as he says (much huskier than he’d like) “N-Nice camera work…”

Rhett just hums, “Mac’s always had a good eye.”

“Mac?”

“Mackenzie, the director of this one.”

Link just lets out a sound of acknowledgement as he watches Rhett reach around Jenessa and tug at her tank top. Tug until her small, pointed breasts pop free. He cups them in his hands and he has…great hands.

They looks so tan against her skin, palms rough and big, and Jenessa lets out a full throttle moan. Rhett teases the pink tips, fingertips agile as they play along the sensitive flesh, as they circle around her areolas.

She whimpers and turns, kisses him fully, passionately, and it’s…messy. Wet. Link can feel his whole heart thump hard at the sight. Janessa’s hair is shorter than Rhett’s – cropped close to her scalp and Rhett’s hands have abandoned her chest to run through the short strands.

Link barely stops himself from reaching up and touching his own hair, instinctively wanting to mimic how that might feel. To imagine Rhett doing it to him.

He tries not to fidget and talking, talking will help, “Surprised this isn’t more, ah, instant.”

Rhett shrugs, “Foreplay’s a thing, man.”

“No, I know,” Link knows his voice pitches a little high at this, defensive, “Just…figured, mean...’s porn…”

“Some of the earlier videos on here are like that, but when EP got bought out, the new owners took the company in a different direction.”

“EP?”

“Erotes Plus. The platform these films are on,” Rhett explains and then he starts mentioning a few things about different production companies and distributors and the like, but Link is too distracted because Jenessa is now fully naked and Rhett is on his knees between her legs, feasting on her moist lower lips.

The silken tip of his tongue is parting her, dancing along the bundle of nerves that is her clit and her head is tossed back on a loud, wild whine.

Her pale body undulates and she’s gripping his long hair so hard. Link feels as if he’s having an out of body experience. This is his roommate. His friend. The man he’s secretly in love with.

And he’s pleasuring this woman with such…focus. With intensity and finesse and when he rises, his erection is clear, straining at the linen pants that are containing it. Link points to the screen weakly, “Hippie clothes.”

The comment is stupid and unhelpful, but Rhett just laughs, “Yeah – kinda the theme of this series. I’m like, a Yoga Instructor or something? Least that's the way it was explained to me, so – linen pants, cotton top – I mean, we’ve had better costumes, but for this shoot-!”

Rhett is talking some more but, again, Link is barely listening. His eyes are transfixed by what’s taking place on the screen. Janessa easily strips off Rhett’s shirt and then his pants and – No. Underwear.

Link is seeing Rhett’s dick. It’s there…thick, but not as big as his own, a visible vein running along one side. Dusky dark and with a blushing pink tip and gently curling hair hiding his full, taunt sack…

“Link? Buddy? You doin’ alright?”

“Fine.”

“Lookin’ like you seen a ghost," Rhett teases, but there’s a breathless quality to his words, “My body all that bad?”

Link just shakes his head and watches as Jenessa strokes Rhett, as his head falls back and he lets out a shuddering gasp that Link feels in his very bones.

Link is suddenly very, very thankful for the pillow that bobs some as it reacts to the situation taking place beneath it. That situation being Link’s own dick perking upwards, making his jeans tight and constrictive.

“You…?” Something Rhett said finally seems to click in Link’s head, “You said this is a series?”

“Yup,” Rhett murmurs and now the film shows him pressing Jenessa against one of the studio walls and she raises one leg high. Insanely high. It’s a very gymnastic level move and Rhett slots his cock up with her opening, sliding hard and deep into her body.

Jenessa lets out a wail of pleasure as he presses in and she holds that leg up – all strength and grace as he begins to move within her at a steady rhythm.

Her hips answer some, but it’s more about how…open she is. And how deep he’s getting. They’re eyes are locked as he picks up his pace, rocketing in and out of her, shaking her whole form with his thrusts, her tiny breasts jiggling with each movement and movement, they call this…

“Got an award for this one.”

Thank God. That one comment draws Link back to some semblance of sanity even as his body quickens with an unspeakable longing, a carnal hunger that aches, “Really?”

“Uh huh,” Rhett says with no small amount of pride, “Best Sex Scene.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I owe it to her to be honest,” he waves to the screen, “She’s the one turning herself into a pretzel throughout this thing. Same for the rest of ‘em. They kept finding co-stars for me to work with who had had extensive training in this sort of body contortion. It was just my job to, uh, well…”

Rhett waves again and the answer is obvious: to fuck them through it. Link is not at all limber. In fact, he’s kind of a klutz. Nothing to match up with someone like this.

For some reason, this realization leaves him hollow. Cold. His arousal dims some, “Where’d you get the award from?”

“XRCO.”

Link makes some sound that would imply he understands, but he doesn’t. Rhett sighs, “Got nominated for Most Popular Male Performer on Pornhub but lost to Johnny Rockwell. Guy deserved it though. Performance he did that year was nuts.”

Link’s lost in the vocal cacophony that is erupting from the television speakers. Moans, gasps, grunts, cries of sheer ecstasy as Rhett and Janessa really ramp it up.

They’re in a different position now, Jenessa’s body once more arched at a crazy angle and Rhett's just...really getting in there. His hips are pumping double time, like a jackhammer, and she is loving it.

Her blue eyes are flashing with adoration, her lips curled in that moue that speaks to an almost pleasurable pain and Link can’t help but ask, “Are the others with her?”

Rhett takes a moment to process the question and when he realizes Link is asking about the other films in the series, he shakes his head, “Nah, man. You don’t usually have repeating partners. Like I said, they found other people who could bend in weird ways. The sequel to this sees me with Julian St. Croix. Great guy. Really smart. He’s actually working on another doctorate. Plans on working in the tech field when he retires, which – money he’s making, should be pretty damned soon. You want me to dial that up?”

Link just shakes his head. The idea of watching Rhett doing something like this with yet another person and with a man no less…

He feels crappy for, well, feeling crappy. This is Rhett’s job. He shouldn’t take this personally.

Besides, it’s not like Rhett knows how Link feels about him. To him, they’re just friends and he should play the part of friend – be a friend, a good friend, “I can see why you won the award, Rhett. You’re doing a…a great job. Real good acting.”

The sound of the shocked (yet oddly sharp) laughter that leaves Rhett at that actually causes Link to finally look at him.

Rhett’s face is a ruddy red, like he’s embarrassed or something, and he’s looking at Link with a bit of a wildfire in his eyes, “‘Good acting? Are you serious?”

Link finally shifts about on the couch (which feels fantastic considering his body has been fighting off a plethora of sensations for a while now) as he fully turns to him, pillow still firmly in place, “Of course! I mean, it-it seems like you’re really into this girl,” he gestures to the screen, “when you’re doing this and I imagine that’d take some acting chops.”

He chews on his bottom lip and lowers his gaze, hands ghosting over the pillow as he talks to it more than Rhett, “Un-unless you really are into her.”

“Into her?” Rhett pokes one finger over to the television, “Into Janessa?”

“Yeah, I mean…if-if you two are a couple or-or were one or-?”

“Me and Janessa?” Rhett asks incredulously and some of the heat seems to leave him. Link gets the impression that Rhett had, for a moment, been mad or affronted by Link’s well intentioned compliment, but now is completely changing track. Now Rhett seems charmingly baffled, “You think I’m into Janessa?”

“I-I was just saying if you’re not into her in this,” Link waves to the screen where (seeing as the volume is dying down) it would seem the film is reaching its conclusion, “Then the acting is good and if you are-!”

“I’m not,” Rhett confirms firmly, “I am very much not, nor was I ever, into Janessa. We’re friendly, but we’d never work as a couple, man. She likes cats.”

Rhett says the last as if it’s a blasphemy and Link can’t help but giggle, suddenly feeling bright and light even though he knows better than to do so, “Problem?”

“Not a big fan of lil demons…”

“Noted, “Link sighs and he feels much, much better. The film is finally over, he’s seen some of Rhett’s work, and he can now say the following with sheer confidence, “I’m proud of you.”

And with that, Rhett freezes. He freezes solid, back going ram rod straight, and his eyes – they’re as round as dinner plates.

Big and green and looking at Link like’s a wild anomaly and Link worries that maybe he, somehow, inadvertently offended him with the remark so he’s quick to explain, “I-I mean it, bo. I’m proud of you. Going out there and-and doing something like this. Being so…so exposed and vulnerable and for anyone to see and yeah, sure, I mean, I guess it’s just for people to-to beat off to or whatever, but when you think about it, it’s something that brings people pleasure, which is a lot better than bringing something bad into people's lives and I know some would argue that porn is like, some gateway into violent dark tendencies or whatever, but for the average person it’s a good thing to explore and the fact you can so freely provide that to them and not be ashamed-!”

Link is blathering.

He’s a blathering idiot.

But he feels like if he stops talking, Rhett might snap at him. Or be mad. Or-!

But instead Rhett just shakes his head and whispers, “You’re unbelievable.”

Link’s diatribe cuts off. His blood stops in his veins. He feels completely seized.

“I’ve been trying so hard…fighting with everything in me,” Rhett breathes and he just…eases forward, eases closer. He’s in Link’s personal space and Link wonders if he should back up or something.

He can feel the heat coming off Rhett’s skin. His breath is bathing Link’s face as he rasps, “But I can’t anymore. You’ll have to forgive me, but…”

Rhett kisses him.

Rhett. Kisses. Him.

Rhett kisses Link.

Their lips meet in the smallest, quickest, sweetest little peck. The sound of it, the quick wet click of their lips…it’s earth shattering, sound-barrier breaking.

And Link feels his whole nervous system lurch at it. And Rhett is still looking at him, searching his eyes wildly. Link blinks and licks his lips and tries to speak, but there’s nothing to say.

Rhett just grins softly, “Bad for business…that’s what you are…”

Link’s gaze dips to Rhett’s mouth. To his lips. Lips that were on his seconds ago. His eyes feel heavy lidded as he gulps and Rhett just huffs as he kisses him again. Again.

Another kiss and this one is more than just a peck. This one? This one is the one Link’s been dreaming of, the one he’s been wishing for.

This kiss is perfect.

#rhink #randl #my writing #peachworthy

43 notes · View notes

hunnybadgerv · 3 years

Text

Falling for Farah's Framejob | The Wayhaven Chronicles | Det. Bishop Vasquez x Agent Mason

Summary: Farah develops a plan and runs with it of their own accord, inviting Detective Bishop Vasquez to the warehouse to help them cook up some fun and silliness for the rest of Unit Bravo.

a/n: Reminder, Bishop is genderfluid. So, a horrible thing was heard in my own kitchen during the making of dinner and I couldn’t resist using it. Though this thing ran off with my brain. Consider yourself warned there is a lot of domestic fluff, cooking, and general silliness with a splash of pining.

Read on AO3

Falling for Farah’s Framejob

-1-

BAM!

“What the …?” Farah chirruped, her head snapping toward the detective.

Bishop raised a brow at her. It took a second for their completely serious look to give way to a tiny smirk that twitched upward. The two stared at each other, then Bishop tipped the chef’s knife under their hand enough to show the vampire the massacred clove of garlic. Farah’s brow drew together.

“You want to try?” Bishop asked with wide grin.

Farah’s eyes widened.

“Don’t go all out,” the detective warned, setting a garlic clove on the cutting board between them and set the knife down. They could just imagine Farah hitting the knife so hard the blade shattered or the clove pulverized to nothing.

Bishop talked her through where to set the blade and then Farah dropped a heavy fist atop it, which dusted them both with a fine mist of garlic. Again they looked at one another, then fell into laughter in unison.

“Think that might have been a little much,” Bishop stated.

“Guess now we’re garlic buddies,” Farah howled, bumping the detective’s shoulder with their own.

Bish laughed wildly, trying to dust some of the juicier bits off their clothes. “Good thing all the vampire stories are wrong or you’d be fucked.”

Farah froze and blinked once, then struck her best Wicked Witch of the West pose. “I’m melting.”

The detective snickered and shook their head, handling the next two cloves on their own.

“Melting,” Farah insisted, bumping the detective again with their shoulder. “What a world,” she crooned, acting like she was indeed fading away behind the counter.

“I thought you were helping me,” Bish charged, glancing back over their shoulder.

“I got you.” Farah sprang up next to them with a little hop. “Whatcha need?”

Another head shake. “Stir the rice and see if the water’s boiling yet.”

“On it.”

Bishop finished up the chopping, keeping a bit of an eye on Farah. The detective still wasn’t quite sure why they were doing this. Nate had told them that most vampires didn’t really eat, in fact he insinuated that most of them actively avoided I, which made sense with hypersensitivity and all. So, when Farah suggested that Bishop come over to the warehouse and cook with her, it was kind of a surprise.

They’d met in town and figured out a menu on the fly in the grocery store. Farah wanted to go all out, at least in the detective’s opinion. Apparently, their Southern tutor had also introduced the vampire to their hometown favorites. Bishop, however, kept the vampires’ oversensitivity in mind and planned to make sure to keep the flavors as natural and controlled as they could manage. They kind of hoped that the chocolate pièce de résistance might be the savior of the evening if the Cajun Gumbo went awry for some members of Unit Bravo—one in particular sprang almost instantly to mind.

Even with Farah’s easily distracted nature, it didn’t take the two of them long to get everything together. The rice was warming toward perfect doneness. The sauces were chilling. The flourless chocolate cakes were resting in what Bishop was sure had to be the safest hiding place. And the French bread was sliced nice and thin waiting for some the homemade garlic butter and a quick toasting in the oven. The two of them even managed to get most of the pots and pans cleaned and put back away.

As Bishop wiped down the counter, Farah cackled. The detective really wasn’t sure what they were talking about anymore, but their abs were killing them from laughing so much.

Noticing the wispy tendrils of smoke rising from the pan, Bishop nodded in Farah’s direction. “Pour that flour in there and stir it up.”

The flash of movement might have stopped the story for a second, but it picked back up as the oil sizzled with its fluffy addition.

“What’s this supposed to look like?” Farah asked.

“Wet sand,” Bishop told them, looking up to notice the intense nose wrinkle on Farah’s face.

Amber eyes blinked at them as if she was waiting for them to deliver a punchline.

“Don’t leave me hanging. What’d he say?”

Farah flashed a toothy smile and chuckled. “It just gets more wet when you lick it.”

Eyes closed in regret, Bishop’s head fell back with a shake.

“Can’t believe I’m the one that has to break it to you, but that’s how it’s supposed to work,” a low voice offered from the doorway to the hall.

Bishop’s chin dropped slowly and they swallowed at the sudden lump in their throat. Mason smirked and the detective tried not to think about the fact that he probably heard the gesture. At least they knew he couldn’t possibly hear the tingles that the sound of his voice shot down their spine. The way his keen gray eyes studied them made Bishop wonder if maybe they were wrong.

The spell broke when Mason sneered. “What the hell is that smell?” he asked Farah.

She shrugged.

“Yeah, figured this was going to go south,” Mason declared

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Bishop taunted with a sharp glare in Mason’s direction. No one criticized their cookery skills without literally eating their words.

“Whatever that is, it’s unsalvageable.”

“Bet,” Bishop shot back before Mason even finished the last syllable.

That got his attention. Mason straightened. “You’re on. Don’t think your science’ll save you now.”

“Shows what you know. That’s exactly cooking is, Agent.” Bish laughed knowingly. “Just delicious chemistry.”

“Uh, Bish,” Farah called.

The distinctly raw flour smell was venturing past toasty. Sliding up to their cooking assistant, Bish grabbed up a wooden spoon from the rest next to the stove and turned their furrowed brow and full attention to the roux. They’d made it like they usually did, forgetting that Farah wouldn’t be familiar with proper speed roux procedure. Mason’s hearty chuckle resounded off the tile surfaces with a smugness that Bish would not allow. There was no damn way they were going to lose this bet, and certainly not in the first two minutes.

Not a half a minute later, the roux was saved and another set of scrutinizing eyes manifested in the doorway. Adam’s jade gaze darted around the room like a chaperone at a high school dance. Bishop wondered if it was Farah’s remark or Mason’s that caught the unit commander’s attention and drew him toward the action as well.

“Still smells like chalk,” Mason noted. The click of his lighter being snapped open and closed repeatedly now echoed around the kitchen.

Bishop rolled their eyes then raised their hand to mimic a quaking duck with their slender fingers. “Yeah, you just keep talking. You’ll choke on every word.”

Mason chuckled at them, snapping the lighter closed and leaning forward to rest their elbows on their knees. The detective couldn’t look away if they’d wanted to. The silver finish of the lighter glinted in the low light as it twirled between Mason’s deft fingers. Their tongue darted out over their bottom lip and pulled it between their teeth. His wolfish grin and the toasty scent in the air pulled Bishop out of their trance.

Specialist Agent my ass. Troublemaker Supreme is far more accurate, Bishop thought. The roux, thankfully, was only at the strong cafe au lait stage. This time, they kept their full attention on the pan despite the fact that they could feel Mason’s keen gray eyes on them. It made their skin prickle.

“What are you making?” Adam asked.

Before Bishop even thought about answering, Farah hopped onto the counter and started detailing the planned menu. “Gumbo,” she answered in a sing-song tone.

“Chicken and sausage,” Bishop added as they stretched to reach a bowl brimming with roughly chopped vegetables.

“That’s the trinity,” Farah announced like a play by play announcer. “Green pepper, onion, and celery,” they counted each ingredient on a separate finger, “then comes the pulverized garlic.”

Neither Bishop nor Farah could recall that incident without a chuckle.

“What?” Adam asked.

Bish shook their head. “Nothing,” Farah said with a chuckle.

The veggies sizzled brightly as the detective scooped them into the pan. The chalky raw flour smell had dissipated and gone nutty and toasty. With the addition of the veg, the kitchen erupted in a lovely scent that Bishop could only describe as … green and distinctly Southern. It was one of those lovely mouthwatering scents that always made their stomach growl even if they weren’t the least bit hungry.

They were instantly aware of three pairs of eyes on them, which sparked a serious blush.

“What’s that … ?” Nate asked from the hall, rounding the corner. “Oh, Bishop. Did Farah rope you into this?”

A tiny shrug. “Not really roped.”

“Just wait,” Mason mumbled, his voice low and tantilizing. The image that sprang into Bishop’s head at the suggestion, just darkened the heat in their cheeks.

Adam shot a warning glaze across the kitchen.

Bishop was unphased, well that’s what they tried to tell themself despite the fact that they could feel their pulse beating it’s way through their jugular. It was one of the strangest things about working with vampire’s; they were far too aware of all the little things no one else could hope to notice unless they were looking really hard. And for all Bishop tried to control those little things, the effort just seemed to multiply the reaction.

Oh, right, broth, they thought grabbing the container they’d prepped for just this moment.

“Let me,” Farah said with another quick hop off the counter.

“Drizzle it. Slow,” Bishop said in a low guiding voice. They stirred tender vegetables careful not to splash any of the oil mixture out of the pan. “Stop for a sec.” After whisking the mixture smooth again, they gave Farah a nod for more. Back in their element, the detective’s full focus returned to the meal in the making.

“Surprised to find you down here,” Nate said quietly as he slipped into a chair at the table near Mason.

Adam crossed the room and stood near the window watching the night march against the retreating light of day.

“Why’s that?” Mason replied quietly over his shoulder.

“Why, indeed?” Nate asked, rhetorically as Mason’s attention returned to the human cooking for them. A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You get the sausage,” Bish told Farah with a pat on the shoulder as they shifted past the young vampire as if they were in the middle of some song and dance. Grabbing a nearby plate, large chunks of delicately browned meat got drowned in the dark stew. It was a hectic choreography they had worked out somehow over the last few hours. The detective pulled the spoon out of the way and leaned back when Farah dropped the chunks of meat into the boiling mixture, which splashed out violently.

Mason tensed, relaxing again as soon as Bishop giggled.

“Hold up. Don’t be scared.” The detective took Farah’s hand and turned palm down over the pot. “Just open, low over the surface and you won’t get the splatter.”

Following the suggestion, Farah grinned. “Nice. Good to know.”

“Not sure I buy that,” Bishop said with a laugh of their own.

“I don’t know. A few more lessons and I might be able to cook dinner for you.”

The entire room erupted in laughter, except for Bishop, who slid an arm over Farah’s shoulder and pulled them close. “Good, because I hate cooking alone.”

That seemed to calm some of the giggles in the room, and reinforced Farah’s grin.

“Time to cover it?” Farah asked.

“Yep,” Bishop said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. When Farah moved from their side, Bish saw it. “Oh damn.”

“What?” several voices asked at the exclamation, far too worried over such a tiny irritation.

Bish blinked over their shoulder at them all. “Forgot the wine. Should have added it after the broth.”

Farah looked almost heartbroken.

Wedging the bottle between their thighs, Bishop started the corkscrew then noticed the forlorn look. “It’ll be fine. Just might need a few extra minutes is all.”

Relief showed on Farah’s face. Bishop still wasn’t sure why this all seemed like such a big deal to their friend, but they hoped to discover an explanation at some point. The cork came free with a resounding pop, and the detective wandered toward the stove giving the cork a slow wiff. Smells perfect.

All eyes remained on them when they tipped the bottle and drew several circles around the pan. Pulling the steam toward their face and taking another long sniff, they dashed another splash of wine into the pot. Then gestured for Farah to put the lid on.

“Adam, do you only drink reds?” Bish asked.

“Depends.”

With a nod, they walked across the kitchen and stretched on their tip toes to grab a wine glass from the display that hung them upside down so that no dust gathered in the glass. Careful not to fully tip the bottle, Bishop filled the glass a little more than halfway and held it out to the eldest of them.

“It’s a dry white, not sure if that’s your style.”

Adam took the glass and swirled it softly before raising it to his nose. Then he took a tentative sip. He gave a silent shrug in what Bishop could only hope was at least a modicum of approval. Still it brought a smile to there lips when he crossed back to his spot near the window with the stem pinched between his fingers.

Looking around the kitchen, it was kind of strange. The five of them just gathered in the kitchen together while dinner simmered. Bishop couldn’t help but recall visits to their gran’s when they were little. It felt like this. Smiles and giggles and talking and cooking. Wonderful smells and conversation. Then there was Mason and the way his eye moved over them.

“Still smell like chalk?” they taunted, leaning on the counter and staring right back at Mason.

“There’s still a hint of it in the air,” he replied too quickly.

Bishop was almost certain he said it just to get under their skin, but this was one arena where the detective’s confidence shone. “Give it an hour, and see if you can still say that.”

“An hour?” Farah crowed. “A whole hour?”

Bishop chuckled. “Believe me, it’s not that bad. And good things come to those who wait,” they added, their gazing flicking toward Mason for a second before Farah’s forehead landed against their shoulder with dramatic flair. Bishop patted her back in an attempt to soothe the impatience.

-2-

“Aren’t you meant to be helping me with coffee and dessert?” Bishop asked.

Mason’s chuckle tickled against the shell of their ear. “Who says I’m not?”

He shifted subtly behind them. With his body pressed against their back, they’d already lost count of the number of scoops of coffee they’d put in the pot—thrice. The detective couldn’t resist the feel of him, however, and leaned back against the firm plane of Mason’s chest. The hand on their hip flexed as the tip of his nose traced the length of Bishop’s carotid. They could feel every calm breath teasing against their thin sensitive skin.

It was maddening.

Dropping their head to the side served as a silent request for more of his attention. They really wanted him to kiss them, at least, though given the fact that Mason had managed to keep some kind of physical contact with them all through dinner, a sharp bite might prove more satisfying.

Either way, Mason denied them and brought his lips back to their ear. “Just how strong are you planning on making that?” he asked with a gutteral chuckle that shook down Bishop’s spine.

Without a doubt, Mason had to be able to hear the way their heart pounded in their chest, but with him so damnably close, he’d feel the shiver his voice sparked through their body, too. Bishop sighed in exasperation, both at themselves and Mason, as they lifted the filter out of the coffee pot for the second time.

Leaning back, they tipped their face toward their distraction. “Could you please, I beg of you, grab me the small plates, so that I can get this pot of coffee started?”

Mason stared at them for a long moment, letting his knuckles trace the line of Bishop’s jaw. When his hand spread out over the side of their neck, he kissed them. Bishop’s pleased hum reverberated through them as Mason deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking into the detective’s mouth in a tease before delving farther. He broke it sooner than Bishop would have preferred, stepping to the side and opening one of the cabinets just as Nate rounded the corner.

The detective’s short hair would do nothing to discuss the flush burning up their neck. No, it’d be completely obvious how worked up Mason had them moments before. Bishop’s eyes flicked in Mason’s direction as he stretched his lean body toward the high shelf. Bastard, they thought with a sly smile. He seemed completely unphased, meanwhile Bish could still feel the heat blazing even hotter in their cheeks and at the tips of their ears.

“Hey, you two.”

Mason just nodded with a low grunt, while Bishop emptied the overfilled coffee filter and placed it back into the coffee maker for yet another try.

“What can I do to help?” Nate offered, earning a curious glance from Mason.

Bishop’s attention was wholly focused on the coffee, finally able to get the right number of scoops measured out. “Um,” they thought as they closed the lid of the pot and flicked the button on. “I need the sauces in the bottles on the top shelf of the ice box.”

“Gotcha. Oh, and Mason, Adam needs you upstairs.”

That got his attention. He set a few plates near Bishop and let his hand brush across their hip before striding across the kitchen. A little spark shot through them, then the detective grabbed a small saucepan out of a cabinet, and filled it with water.

“Anything to worry about?” Bishop asked, curious about what he’d said.

Nate gave them a tiny grin and shook his head. “Farah was getting impatient. I figured maybe you could use a more helpful set of hands.”

The heat rushed to Bishop’s cheeks again, as they set the pan on the stove. “Sorry,” they said in a sheepish quiet tone and bit their bottom lip.

“No need to be,” Nate said. He bumped the refrigerator door closed with his elbow.

As he approached them, Bish grabbed one of the bottles and set it in the pan of water. “Thanks. But we both know I could exercise a bit more willpower.”

He chuckled at them. “True, but at the start of something it can be intense, especially with someone that prides himself on that particular trait.”

“That’s the truth,” Bishop agreed. That was the perfect word to describe Mason, they thought. They pulled a tray out of lower oven and set it on the counter. With considered care, they tapped a few of the giggly little cakes out of the ramakans they’d been baked in. Holding them carefully, Bish peeled the parchment paper off them.

“Like opening a gift,” Nate observed.

“A luxurious chocolaty one.”

“Best kind, depending on who you ask.”

Bishop chuckled. “I think so. But I didn’t want to make too many,” they explained as they set the cakes on the rack once again.

“Probably a good call.”

“Yeah, I noticed I was the only one that finished dinner.”

Nate bumped their shoulder with his elbow. “I thought it was wonderful. And the fact that you got Adam to even try it should feel like a victory in itself.”

That puffed Bishop up a little and they nodded. “And I was shocked that Mason tried it.”

“To be honest, I think that’s the first time I’ve seen him eat anything.”

Bishop didn’t say anything, couldn’t really. They weren’t sure what to make of that little revelation. Instead they grabbed the plates and set out seven of them. Popping back over to the stove, they lifted the bottle and swirled it around to distribute the heat more evenly and set it down once more.

“So, what are these?” Nate asked picking up the bottle with a reddish hue.

“Sauces,” they repeated, with a wide grin.

The vampire cast a look on them that read, smart ass.

“That’s a raspberry coulis. Just cooked them down with a bit of sugar and lemon zest and strained it to remove the seeds and fleshy bits.” Bishop winced at the turn of phrase; Nate didn’t seem distressed about it, so they let it go. “The tartness pairs beautifully with the chocolate. But it could be too intense.”

“Is that why you prepared three?”

Bish nodded, he’d figured out their plan. “A French pastry cream, very lightly sweetened. Just a nice creamy accompaniment.”

“And that?” Nate pointed at the pan in front of them.

They hissed in a breath through their teeth, still feeling a little guilty about this one. “This is a little self-indulgent favorite of mine. Bourbon caramel.”

“Oh?” Nate’s brows rose over his soft brown eyes.

Bishop smirked knowingly. “Want a taste?”

“Please.” The other bottle was set on the counter and Nate wandered over. When Bishop held their hand palm up with the index finger extended, Nate copied the action, and was rewarded with a warm strip of the sauce. He popped it into his mouth before it could ooze over the sides of his finger. The hum that rumbled in his chest drew a smile from the chef.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” they laughed, giving the bottle another swirl in the water.

Nate darted across the kitchen and back in the blink of an eye. He leaned one hand on the edge of the counter holding out a spoon, and Bishop couldn’t hold back their grin or their laughter. But they did lift the bottle once more and fill the tablespoon until the caramel started to dome.

“Vampire with a sweet tooth, huh?”

With the spoon already in his mouth, Nate could do little more than give them a crooked smile and a shrug.

Bishop snapped the dial on the stove to off and crossed back to the cakes and plates. On two, a little ocean of red filled the bottom of the plate before being topped with a perfect little chocolate confection. Two more cakes received healthy crowns of the cream. The last three plates each got a turn on the rack where Bishop drizzled them with lines of caramel, before setting the cake atop it. Then a few more thin lines fluttered over the delicate desserts.

“Maybe you should have made more,” Nate suggested, having watched the display intently.

“I did. But I figured that this might be best to start. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”

Nate nodded, but gave the detective an incredulous look; they couldn’t help but wonder if they wouldn’t be taking any of the cakes back home with them. “I’ll get the coffee and the cups.”

“I’ll get these.” Bishop had waited tables in high school and college and was more than capable of lining the plates up perfectly, but before they got two situated, Nate set a lovely dark wood tray on the counter near them. “Much safer.”

“Especially in this house.”

The two of them chuckled quietly as they loaded their respective trays with goodies. Bishop doubted any of the cakes, except the one plate she made for herself would get more than two bites taken out of it, if that many. They weren’t offended. On the contrary, the fact that Unit Bravo, who had no need for typical human food any longer, had tried anything they cooked made them feel proud, and a little more welcome in a way.

“Do you know why Farah did this?” Bishop asked once they’d placed the spoons and napkins on the corner of the tray.

Nate stopped near them and gave a little shake of their head. “I really don’t. But for one, I’m really glad she did.”

“Me, too,” the detective agreed. They’d have to remember to let Farah know. Maybe they’d find a really fun way to thank her.

#TWC fanfiction #Farah Hauville #Nate Sewell #Agent Mason #Adam du Mortain #Detective Bishop Ripley Vasquez #Falling for Farah's Framejob #Don't @me I know how out of sync the premise of this is #But Bish loves to cook you can't change my mind #And Farah is devious and amazing #Food and cooking #Friendship #Relationship Building #Mutual Pining #Flirting

11 notes · View notes

boxoftheskyking · 4 years

Text

Something Good, Part Eleven

Things I don’t know about include medicine and plants. Thanks Google.

Sorry to Lan Qiren’s reputation I guess I need him to be a dick.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

---

After morning lessons, the children are taken to the infirmary. They file in, a little row kneeling and a row standing in a half-circle around the bench where Wen Qing stands, holding onto a mortar and pestle like her life depends on it. From his position in the corner, Wei Wuxian gives her a bright encouraging smile. Lan Wangji sweeps in and joins Wen Qing at the front, giving the children his typical not-smile—it strikes Wei Wuxian suddenly that this particular warmth in his face, a loosening of tension around his eyes, maybe, his mouth still neutral but not so set, is something that only comes out around the children. Lan Wangji, he’s starting to realize, exists in the space between things. Not warm, not really, but not entirely cold either.

Wei Wuxian’s good mood is slightly spoiled by the arrival of Lan Qiren. After acknowledging the respectful bows of greeting he remains in the doorway and gestures to Wen Qing.

“Disciples,” Lan Wangi says, standing up a bit straighter, if that’s possible. “Lady Wen is a very accomplished doctor, and she is going to give you all a lesson today. Let us thank her.”

“Thank you, Lady Wen,” the children chorus.

Wen Qing inclines her head. “Today I am going to show you a simple dressing, which helps to heal a cut or scrape. The first thing we do is to clean the wound with fresh water.”

She’s clearly uncomfortable with all of the attention focused on her, but she patiently talks the children through chopping herbs and measuring out oils, which type of cloth is best for binding. She lets them each come up to smell the ingredients separately and the concoction together, looking a bit thrown at their starry-eyed adoration with every question. The children are very well behaved—Wei Wuxian only has to tap the Trio of Terror on the shoulder a few times and raise his eyebrows before they stop fidgeting.

“Now I can show you how to apply the dressing,” Wen Qing says. She turns to Lan Wangji and blushes, looking between him and Lan Qiren awkwardly.

“Here, Lady Wen!” Wei Wuxian pipes up. “I volunteer to be your patient!”

He winds his way around the kids and squeezes in between her and Lan Wangji, rolling up his sleeve. Wen Qing picks up a small knife and the smaller children gasp.

“Wei-qianbei!” Lan Sizhui cries out, covering his eyes.

“Don’t worry, friends! Lady Wen is a very talented doctor and will fix me right up.”

Wen Qing sets the knife against his forearm, but before she can break the skin another hand closes gently around Wei Wuxian’s wrist, pulling him away.

“That is not necessary,” Lan Wangji rumbles, fingers warm and firm and circling Wei Wuxian’s forearm completely.

“It’s alright, Lan Wangji,” he says quietly. “Lady Wen has healed worse than a little cut.”

“It is not necessary,” he says again. He keeps a hold of Wei Wuxian’s arm and picks up a brush, dipping it lightly in ink and drawing a thin line across his skin. “There. That will do.”

“I don’t think—”

“A-Yuan is frightened,” Lan Wangji says quietly, not looking up from the drying ink for a long moment.

When his wits have regathered, Wei Wuxian pulls gently out of his grasp and turns a smile on the children. Lan Qiren is glowering from the doorway.

“We can imagine that this is a little cut. Nothing to worry about! Lady Wen, will you show us how to apply the dressing?”

It’s a bit silly; Wen Qing dabs around the ink with a cloth and ties the fragrant bundle around his arm.

“It feels better already!” he says, striking a strong pose to make the children laugh.

“Yes,” Wen Qing says, fussing with her ingredients. “So that’s how the medicine works. You can add other ingredients as well, if there is swelling or infection.”

The children look at her. She looks at Lan Qiren. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji look at each other.

“Thank you, Lady Wen,” Lan Wangji says, bowing graciously to her. The children mimic him.

Lan Qiren stays in the doorway, watching.

“Hanguang Jun!” Ouyan Zizhen calls out suddenly. “When are you and Lady Wen getting married?”

Little romantic.

“Very soon,” Lan Qiren says from the doorway.

The children buzz with excitement until Lan Qiren clears his throat, frightening them all back to attention. Wei Wuxian stands between the couple, very carefully looking at no one.

Unable to stand another second of silence, Wei Wuxian cries out, “Disciples! Should we show Lady Wen what we learned in the garden?”

There’s a great cheer, and when Lan Wangji gives a nod the children file out of the infirmary.

“Everyone check on your favorite plants and make sure there are no weeds!” Wei Wuxian calls after them.

“Here, let me take this off,” Wen Qing says, reaching for the dressing, but Wei Wuxian pulls back.

“Oh no!” he pouts. “This was a gift from the great Lady Wen. Lan Wangji, don’t let her take it away from me. After all, I may need it one day!”

Wen Qing rolls her eyes and starts out of the room, only to be stopped by Lan Qiren. Wei Wuxian tries to overhear, but Lan Wangji catches his arm again, gently. He reaches out and rubs his thumb over the smear of ink that peeks out from beneath the cloth.

“It would have been fine, Lan Wangji,” Wei Wuxian says softly. “I’ve had worse than a little cut from a friend.”

“I know.”

There’s nothing else to say, and in the silence Wen Qing’s voice carries through the room.

“—I don’t understand, Teacher.”

“Don’t worry, it will become easier as they get to know you. They respect you, and that is what matters. Between you and Lan Wangji, the junior disciples will have everything they need.”

“Uncle,” Lan Wangji says, moving away from Wei Wuxian. “I don’t understand your meaning.”

Lan Qiren waves a dismissive hand. “Certainly you do. After the wedding, when Lady Wen moves to Cloud Recesses permanently, she will take over caring for the children.”

Wei Wuxian digs his thumbnail into the wood of the table.

“Uncle,” Lan Wangji says again, stubbornly polite, “Lady Wen is an accomplished doctor. Surely her talents are more suited for the infirmary. There is no reason Wei Wuxian should not stay as caretaker.”

It looks very wrong for Lan Qiren’s glare to focus on Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian almost wants to dive between them, as if he could take the force of it like a lightning bolt to the chest.

“Wangji, we will be in a stronger negotiating position after the marriage. The Gusu Lan Sect has borne this shame long enough.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply. Wei Wuxian might almost think he’s been forgotten, but Lan Qiren casts him a brief disdainful glance on his way out the door. He digs his nail deeper into the table, then yanks his hand back as a splinter starts to draw blood.

“Come on, Master and Lady,” he says, aiming for cheerful. “The kids are excited.”

They reach the garden just as Lan Yixian hits Su Meiling in the back of the head with a clump of dirt. Before she can start yelping about it, Wei Wuxian rushes over to brush off her hair, waving the others around him with one hand.

“Here, here, come on. Let’s show Lady Wen and Hanguang Jun what we learned about the garden. Do you remember?”

“Yes, Wei-qianbei!” they crow.

I’m going to miss that, he thinks.

He lines them up in a scraggly, muddy row, silently wishing he could change them into their play clothes, and says, “You know the song, so sing when I direct you! Licorice first!”

He taps Wen Ning on the shoulder and sings quietly along with him.

“In a sandy bed in bright light Here is licorice, growing strong!”

Wei Wuxian taps Yao Hauling on the head, and she sings, “Soothes your stomach with one small bite!”

“Everybody!”

“Sun and rain we sing our song!”

Wei Wuxian spins along behind them, tapping heads between each line.

“In the shade with lots of water—”

“Here is ginseng, growing strong!”

“Helps revive a sleepy daughter.”

“Sun and rain we sing our song!”

“Winding up the poles in sunshine—”

“Lei gong teng is growing strong!”

“Fixes swelling—clever green vine!”

“Sun and rain we sing our song!”

“Here in shadow, where it’s soggy—”

“Pink rhodora growing strong!”

“Take when mountains make you groggy.”

“Sun and rain we sing our song!”

“Excellent, excellent!” Wei Wuxian shouts, tousling hair and pinching cheeks. Lan Wangji and Wen Qing clap, and Wen Qing leans over to give her brother a squeeze.

“I knew they couldn’t take your music away,” she murmurs to him, smiling over Wen Ning’s shoulder.

“I don’t get in trouble if someone else sings it,” he replies, tapping his nose.

“I am very impressed by your memorization,” Lan Wangji says. Lan Sizhui looks like he’s about to lift off the ground with pride. “And the medicine garden is very well-tended. You have all been very attentive to the plants and also to the rabbits on the back hill. The Lan sect and I thank you for your dedication.” He bows very formally, and the children bow in return, struggling to keep their grins under control.

“Now, my clever, muddy rascals,” Wei Wuxian says, “off to lunch! Go on, wash the dirt off your hands. It may be medicinal, but it tastes bad on rice. Go, go!”

“Dirt is not medicinal,” Wen Qing says as they run ahead of him.

“It’s a medicine garden, Wen Qing.” He winks at her. “Walk! Don’t run! Walk! Come on—”

“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Wangji says. “A word.”

It’s not a question, but it’s not a command either. Somewhere in between.

Wen Qing nods to them both and hurries off after the children.

“She’ll get the hang of it,” Wei Wuxian says. Stop. Shut up. “They’ll love her. So will you, of course. If you don’t already.” Shut. Up.

“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Wangji frowns, “about what Lan Qiren said.”

“Don’t worry about it. Never mind! Naturally, nothing lasts forever. Naturally!”

“Wei Wuxian—”

“Although I do agree with you, Wen Qing is wasted outside the infirmary. Not wasted, obviously! What do I know? Lan Qiren is so old fashioned. But! Above my pay grade, clearly. Actually, I don’t get paid—”

“Wei Wuxian—”

“Wei Ying. Please.” He swallows and looks down at his hands, picking at his bandage. “Once. Once more.”

“Wei Ying.”

He hates how it thrills him.

“You work hard. What you do—I can’t do what you do.”

“You sell yourself short, Second Master Lan.”

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian’s eyes snap up to meet his. He looks very much like he wants to break eye contact, but he doesn’t.

“Aiyah,” Wei Wuxian breathes.

“Only when the children aren’t around.”

“Obviously.”

Lan Wangji nods, turns, hesitates, and leaves.

“Aiyah.” Somehow, haltingly, Wei Wuxian smiles.

Part Twelve

#assorted writings #something good #the untamed #cql #mo dao zu shi #writing dumb little songs is one of the only things I can do quickly #so there you go

63 notes · View notes

tirednotflirting · 3 years

Text

you're the one to help me get to sleep // maybe i fell in love when you woke me up

oh boy that title looks a lot longer on tumblr than it did on ao3. anyway.

i got stressed out yesterday and finished some fluff bc that’s what we do here at tirednotflirting. forgot to post it here yesterday though so i am doing that Now post-first cup of coffee of the day and halfway through the french toast i made.

random side not but i’ve been listening to my time capsule playlist on spotify and i highly rec checking yours out bc this is So Fun.

here is this on ao3 if you wanna read there.

The sun is just beginning to set over LA and Alex is in love.

The day had been long but good. One of those California summer days that stretched on long enough that it made him wonder if the sun would ever start heading toward its resting place below the horizon. Warm but not hot, the slight breeze allowing them to spend the afternoon writing outside instead of stuck up in the studio.

He’s out on the balcony now, already changed into pajama pants since they decided they would stay in for the night, and a glass of wine dangles between his fingers in between sips. The city is somehow quiet from his spot above it though he can tell it must be loud from all the activity he can see on the street. It’s nice, Alex thinks, to find peace among the blaring white noise of Los Angeles. Today had been his last full day in the city, his flight back to the farm and his furry friends sometime in the early afternoon. He has his boarding pass loaded onto his phone and could easily wander back inside to find his phone and triple check the time so he could make note of when they need to be up in the morning but he’s not quite ready to start thinking about how he has to leave again yet.

Jack would also just immediately kick him back out to his current spot if he tried heading inside right now anyway. Over coffee that morning Jack had declared he would be making dinner for Alex’s last night (It’s romantic, Al, and I only have one more night to romance the fuck out of you). At the time Alex had assumed it was the still half-asleep side of Jack speaking but when Alex arrived back at the apartment after spending part of the afternoon writing, he’d been handed the glass of wine currently resting in his hand and ushered to the balcony door by an apron-clad Jack.

It was rare for Alex to feel this much peace on his last day of a trip to see Jack. Usually there was some element of sadness or anxiety over the impending time apart until more band things or another trip to either coast. But as he tips back the last of his wine and stares back out toward the last bits of light in the city sky, all Alex can feel is a fullness in his chest.

He decides he’s going to want more wine with dinner and given the time, he figures Jack must be close to finishing things up. Alex pulls himself up and pushes the sliding door open to call out toward the kitchen.

“Jack, babe, am I allowed into the kitchen for more wine?”

Jack’s head pokes out from the kitchen with a pout on his lips. “Five more minutes, Alex. You have to give a chef space to work.”

“Bring me the bottle then, please,” Alex says in his sweetest voice, his lashes fluttering. He can see Jack’s dramatic eye roll from where he leans against the door frame before he steps back into the kitchen, emerging a few seconds later with the bottle of white he had poured for Alex earlier.

“Here you go, you lush,” Jack says while passing over the bottle once he’s close enough. Before he has a chance to step away, Alex pulls at the front of his apron to briefly press their lips together. Jack drops a hand to the bottom of Alex’s back to hold him close, his fingers pressing into his skin through his t-shirt.

“I like the apron. It’s cute.” Alex compliments as he smoothes out the wrinkles in the fabric.

Jack’s hand runs up and down Alex’s spine as he hums. It’s an action that mimics the way Jack had been waking him up most days, and a lazy smile pulls at Alex’s lips at the memory of the fond moment. “Thank you,” Jack muses. “I only wore it because I figured you would think that, so it’s nice to know I was right.”

Alex laughs. “You wore something just because you thought I might find it cute?”

“I like being told I’m a cute boy. Sue me,” Jack says, his hand wrapping more securely around Alex’s waist. “Now go back out. I’m just putting things into bowls, I’ll be out in a second, handsome.”

Alex feels himself blush as Jack leans forward to press his lips to Alex’s temple before spinning on his heel and heading back toward the kitchen. As he steps back outside, Alex can’t help but hope that they never leave this phase of their relationship. This not quite honeymoon but not quite settled phase, where they’re so damn comfortable being with each other (in a way Alex used to spend hours awake at night worrying they would never find the path to) but compliments like the one Jack’s just thrown his way still make him blush. It’s a nice spot to be in for now, he thinks.

He pulls the cork from the wine and gives himself another generous pour before leaving the bottle in the middle of the table they’re meant to be eating at. The sky is just fading into dusk, the city draped in a blanket of purples and blues when the light above him clicks on. Alex turns from his spot to find Jack sliding the door open mostly with his foot, two bowls somewhat precariously balanced in each of his hands. Alex jumps up and ignores Jack’s whines as he takes the bowls from him and wanders back to set them on the table while Jack jogs back through the apartment to return with plates and silverware and another wine glass.

“Alright so if this sucks, we’re blaming my mom because she basically walked me through the whole thing step by step,” Jack says once they’re back at the table while he pours wine into his own glass. “Also the caprese salad was her idea since I wasn’t feeling leafy but I feel like romantic dinner date is incomplete without salad.”

“You called your mom to have her walk you through a recipe?” Alex smiles as he lets his head drop to rest in the palm of his hand while he watches Jack spoon some kind of pasta onto the two plates.

“Listen, you know I’m helpless in a kitchen,” Jack says while pushing one of the plates in Alex’s direction. “And it’s your last night here and I wanted to do something nice for you, damn it.”

“That’s very cute,” Alex replies before taking another sip from his wine glass. “You’re very cute.”

“You already told me I was cute. You gotta get more creative with your adjectives, Mr Songwriter.”

Alex shakes his head in mock protest. “I said the apron was cute before, not you.” Jack scowls at him while gently kicking his ankle. “Hush, I knew what you meant.” A smile pulls at Alex’s lips when he notices how Jack leaves their feet all tangled up together under the table after the kick. It’s silly, he knows, to get all blushy over such a simple, nonchalant action but he can’t help it.

Jack points his fork across the table at Alex after taking a bite. “Also my mom said to call her when you get back. She wants to catch up and probably bug you again about when you’re going to propose.”

Alex laughs brightly. “Well my mom was asking that I get you to Facetime her when you’ve got some free time likely for the exact same conversation.” He gestures down to his plate with a nod. “This really does not suck, by the way.”

“Our mothers really ought to be more strategic in their approach on this,” Jack says while shaking his head. “I mean it’s completely impractical that we both propose. And thank you, I try.”

“I think they figure if they double the effort they have a greater chance of success or something.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

The banter back and forth over their meal continues well into the night. After a while, Alex insists on clearing the table and taking things inside. He quickly cleans the dishes before grabbing another bottle of wine from the fridge and clean glasses and heading back out. Jack has moved over to the couch he keeps out there and has a blanket pulled over his bare legs, the nighttime breeze dropping the temperature enough to call it a cool night. Alex fills their glasses and leaves the bottle on the table before wandering over to where Jack has decided to lounge.

“For you, sir,” Alex announces while handing over one of the glasses. He takes a seat next Jack, scooting closer to his side to steal some of the blanket and drops his head to rest against Jack’s chest.

Jack hums his thanks as he takes a sip and wraps an arm around Alex’s shoulders. His fingers immediately move to play with the sleeve of his t-shirt as he sighs. “Is it selfish to ask you to cancel your flight and stay longer?”

“Not selfish but also not really a possibility, my love,” Alex says while tilting his head up to press his lips to Jack’s jaw. “I’ve got animal friends to attend to and you’ve got that trip out to see Zack to pack for.”

“Mmm, yeah you’re right,” Jack says while swirling the wine in his glass. “The goats and Zack need cuddles too, I guess.”

“Exactly.” Alex sighs as he lifts his shoulder, asking Jack a silent question that he thankfully knows the answer to. Jack drops his hand to rest in his lap and Alex reaches over for it, his fingers slipping into the spaces between Jack’s and squeezing to press their palms together. He smiles lazily at the action. It’s the little things about time with Jack that stick in his brain when they’re apart. The weight of Jack’s hand in his own, the steady sound of his heartbeat below Alex’s ear, the tapping of Jack’s foot against the ground since even in the quiet, still moments Jack has to find a way to expel the extra energy he always seems to possess. It’s all so familiar and warm. Alex isn’t sure what life would be like without the small details that make up them.

He isn’t sure how long they sit there, sipping and resting against each other while staring out at the light polluted LA night sky. Long enough that Jack eventually lets out a yawn that breaks Alex out of the daze he’d fallen into, the gentle rising and falling of Jack’s chest beneath his head acting as a lullaby of sorts.

“Bedtime?” Alex asks with a gentle laugh. He lets their hands fall apart in favor of moving to cup Jack’s jaw. His thumb runs across the top of his cheek, just below his sleepy eyes.

“Think so, yeah,” Jack slurs his words slightly as he leans into Alex’s touch. “Don’t you need to pack? We’ll probably need to head out at like eleven since your flight is at one.”

And of course Jack remembers what time his flight is at when Alex hasn’t bothered to check all night. He’s always taking care of him in the little ways. In the ways that Alex didn’t realize he needed taking care of, really.

Alex moves to stand and smiles at Jack’s pout when he reaches to pull him up with him. “I can pack in the morning. Right now I just want to cuddle my boy.”

Jack grins at his words and rises without any more protest. They gather the glasses and shuffle back inside. Jack steals them away from Alex once they reach the stairs and gestures for him to head upstairs while he goes in the direction of the kitchen. Alex pouts at the action and leans against the railing to wait for Jack to round the corner again.

Jack jumps a bit when he finds Alex in the same spot he left him. “And you thought I was a sleepy boy?” Jack laughs, something warm and soft behind his gaze. Jack takes a couple steps up, his hand reaching back to loosely link with Alex’s to guide them upstairs.

They get ready for bed quickly despite the half asleep state they both drifted into and soon enough Alex is crawling beneath wrinkled sheets. He’s just barely plugged his phone into the charger when a pair of arms pull him toward the center of the bed.

“How are you always so warm?” Jack mumbles into the back of Alex’s hair as his arms wrap more fully around Alex’s middle. He turns in his arms and Jack settles against his chest. “Not that I’m complaining since it’s freezing in here. But still.”

Alex laughs as he tries to keep his eyes open while Jack nuzzles his cool nose against his collarbone. He reaches a hand up to thread into the hair at the back of Jack’s neck. “Somebody’s got to keep you warm.”

“I’m glad it’s you,” Jack mumbles almost incoherently. Alex waits for him to say more as he continues drawing short patterns through Jack’s hair but he only softly hums and nestles further against his chest.

Alex is moments away from falling falling falling to a peaceful rest when Jack’s hand settles against the bottom of his back beneath the sweatshirt he stole from his closet, the extra layer of Jack’s familiar scent providing some additional security on his last night in this bed. Alex feels Jack’s sleep steady breath puff against his neck and in his final moments of consciousness, all he can think is Jack Jack Jack. His gentle laugh and warm gaze fills Alex’s mind as he lets his eyes finally flutter shut.

And maybe that’s what love is, falling asleep already in a dream.

It’s pouring down rain in Maryland and Jack is in love.

He’s only just woken up, his mind still cloudy from sleep and his eyes still locked shut. Jack isn’t sure what time it is but given that he’s rising naturally and not from an alarm or kisses being pressed against his cheeks, he assumes it must be pretty late into the morning hours.

It’s his first morning on this visit out to the farm. His flight the previous night had gotten in before dinner so Alex had declared it date night (Is every night we’re together not date night, Alex? Romance mode 24/7, baby.) and insisted they stop at the store for ingredients before heading back to the house. Once they were at the farm, they tended to the animals (or Alex did while Jack sat on the floor and let the goats chew on his hoodie strings) before heading back inside where Jack sat at the counter and told Alex stories about his airport adventures while watching him cook. They had tried to start a movie after food but Jack kept falling asleep every few minutes with his head in Alex’s lap so it wasn’t long before he was being pulled in the direction of the bedroom.

He sighs as the last moments of sleep drift off and he settles back into the land of the living. He’s yet to open his eyes in case the sun is peeking in anywhere in the room since he knows he’s not yet awake enough for true daylight. Two thoughts enter his mind almost immediately though: it’s cold as hell and there’s coffee brewing in the kitchen. Both of these things are a result of a third thing that Jack notices and it’s that Alex has left him alone in bed.

Jack would get whiny about the third thing but he knows that given where they are it would be pretty selfish of him. Mornings at the farm are loaded with more responsibilities than mornings in LA, and Jack knows the animal friends deserve breakfast and Alex’s bright, sleepy smile just as much as he does. Plus, his boy did make him coffee.

Jack takes a deep breath and catches the scent of dark roast mixed in with the scent of Alex (his cologne and the same laundry detergent he’s used since his mom would pack it for him on their early tours) before finally pushing himself up from the mattress and opening his eyes. The room is thankfully still dark since Alex left the curtains closed for him but he can hear the rain beating down against the windows even through the heavy fabric. Jack pouts then, suddenly worried about Alex having to wander around out in the January rain by himself.

He finds a hoodie and the slippers his mom gifted him for Christmas a few weeks earlier on the floor beside the bed and pulls both on before shuffling from the bedroom. Jack immediately pulls at the sleeves to cover his hands and considers going back to the bedroom to steal a shirt to throw on underneath the hoodie but the coffee hits his nose again and he continues in the direction of the kitchen.

The only light on in the room is the one over the sink and because of the rain, the kitchen remains pretty dark despite the clock on the microwave reading that it’s a little bit past ten. Jack wanders through the room to the drying rack by the sink to get his mug (the one he found in some little thrift store somewhere in Texas with the painted butterflies) before turning back to the island. He fills the mug from the mostly full French press that must have been made pretty recently, Jack thinks, as he burns his tongue a little on his first sip. Fresh coffee means that Alex has already been out to the stalls for the morning so Jack turns then, having a good feeling about where Alex may have wandered off to, and lets his hip rest against the edge of the counter.

From where he stands leaning against the kitchen island, Jack can see Alex’s head poking out from the back of the couch out on the front porch. He’s got a blue beanie pulled over his head and Jack can see his hands cupped around a mug and he can see the steam rising against Alex’s face. He pulls his phone from his pocket to check the temperature and rolls his eyes at the number shown on the screen but it doesn’t stop him from lifting his own mug to head in the direction of the front door.

Alex looks over in his direction as Jack pushes the door closed behind him to join Alex out in the cold morning air. The rain had settled mostly and a thick fog blankets over the property, the trees at the end of the road and pasture just barely visible. A soft smile pulls at Alex’s lips as he pats the cushion beside him. Jack returns the grin as he takes in the crinkles beside his boy’s tired eyes. Sometimes Jack forgets they’re getting older but then notices a gray hair when he’s looking in the mirror while brushing his teeth or notices Alex’s laughter lines deepening ever so slightly and it reminds him just how long they’ve been on these wild adventures together.

He takes the spot beside Alex and pulls the blanket he’s got covering his lap over his own before letting his head drop to rest against Alex’s shoulder. Jack turns to press his cold nose against Alex’s neck and smiles when he hears a soft whine in response to the action.

“Why are we having our coffee outside when it’s nearly freezing out?” Jack mumbles against Alex’s skin. He feels a hand reach up to card through his bed head and smiles at the feeling.

“You’ve been in California too long,” Alex teases. “We would have been calling this a warm morning back in the day.”

“Jesus, are we really old enough for things to be back in the day now?”

“We’re definitely getting there, love.” Alex laughs before pausing to take a sip from his mug. “Anyway, I finished up feeding everybody and wanted to keep listening to the rain.”

Jack figures that’s a fair enough answer (at least coming from Alex) so they sit in silence for a little while. They sip from their respective mugs and Jack cuddles impossibly closer to Alex for warmth as he searches for patterns in the sound of the rain against the roof. Jack notices the shapes Alex has been drawing through his hair change suddenly and he sits up a bit to see his face and pouts at the expression he’s met with.

“What are you thinking so hard about, huh?” Jack asks as he reaches a hand up to rub away the lines across Alex’s forehead. “Is everything okay?”

“Do you want to move in together?” Alex asks in a somewhat rushed voice while his hands pull at the ends of his sleeves. “Like here? On the farm?”

Jack’s hand falls from Alex’s forehead to cup his cheek. “What?”

“I mean, you should probably keep the place in LA since we’re over there enough for work stuff. And I’ve just been thinking that this feels like a good place to settle down and,” he pauses to take a breath and looks up to meet Jack’s gaze. “And I don’t know if I’m moving too fast but I want to settle down with you.”

“Al, I’ve known you for like, half my life. We’re not exactly operating on a normal relationship timeline here. I’d love to move in,” Jack says into the space between them and he can’t help but lean forward to brush their lips together when Alex’s eyes widen. “Though you’re going to have to teach me how to actually be helpful around this place rather than just sit and look cute while petting the goats.”

“Having someone to sit and look cute with the goats is an essential part of farm maintenance, Jack. Don’t sell yourself short,” Alex says while reaching to cover the hand Jack still has against his cheek. “But don’t worry. We’ll teach you to be a proper farm boy. Get you some boots and everything.”

“I want a cowboy hat, too. But sounds perfect.” Jack says before leaning in to press their lips together again. Alex pulls him closer and Jack feels himself smile into the kiss. Alex’s warmth almost makes him forget about the cold winter air surrounding them and his mind is flooded with the thought of a future where everyday is spent with the eternal summer’s day that is Alex Gaskarth.

Alex pulls away first and a giggle leaves his lips as Jack whines at him. “Guess we should go ahead and actually get the day started then?”

“Has to happen eventually, I suppose.” Jack sighs as he sinks further into the couch.

Alex laughs as he stands up, his hand reaching down to link their hands together. “Come on. We’ve got brunch with the mothers in an hour and now we’ve got good news to share with them. Moms love good news.”

Jack allows himself to be pulled up from the couch and in the direction of the front door. He leans against the wood once they’re back inside and pulls Alex into his hold while his arms move to hang over his shoulders. “We smell like farm and wet dog. And since we’re going to be sharing a home now, I think it only makes sense that we try to conserve resources. What do you think?”

Alex rolls his eyes and slides his hands up to rest against Jack’s chest. “Thank you for the invitation but I figured I would make up another pot of coffee for us while you go get ready?”

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I keep asking myself the same thing.”

With a final press of his lips to Jack’s cheek, Alex heads off to make the promised coffee. Jack watches him head into the kitchen from where he stands in the front hall. He sees Alex leave the mugs on the island in favor of pulling his phone out to connect to the speaker next to the sink and a second later a song starts playing that immediately has him bouncing on his toes as he fills the kettle from the sink. Jack smiles as he leans against the frame into the dining room while he watches Alex dance around and softly sing while scooping new coffee grounds. He turns then and Jack is caught as Alex smiles and winks in his direction, a mouthed Go while pointing in the direction of the bedroom being his parting gift.

Jack blows a kiss and starts making his way down the front hall to the stairs. He pauses for a moment at the table where Alex had left a mess of different holiday cards he’d received throughout the season. Bright colors and happy smiles meet Jack’s eyes as he spots friends and their families and pets. He sighs and continues down the hall after a moment, wondering if maybe they could get the goats to sit still long enough for a holiday card sometime next fall. It’s a swirling, dreamy thought, but he spends the rest of the morning stuck on the idea of seeing their smiling faces and well wishes mixed into their loved ones’ piles of cards.

And maybe that’s what love is, waking up to the beginning of another dream.

#jalex #jalex fic #i said this on ao3 but i sent the first half of this to bella but not the second half so ignore that the grammar is probably better in the #first half bc of that #this was the first piece i've written in probably several months that's longer than 2k so that's kinda cool #probably bc it could have been split in half but shhhhhh

11 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 4 years

Text

Finding Harmony - Ch 5 M Major

Luka had never cared about clothes much. Sure he had a style, but it wasn’t something he thought consciously about, it was just things he liked to wear. He was doing this modeling thing as a favor for Juleka, and to spend time with Marinette. The clothes, until today, had mostly been an afterthought.

He wasn’t prepared for the wave of emotion that hit him once he was standing there, in clothes that Marinette designed and made with him in mind.

This was why he loved her. This was what he’d seen that day, when she walked into his room wide-eyed and stammering. Something in his soul had recognized her, when he had given her a song and she had received it, not with blank confusion, plastic smiles, or guarded hostility, but with reverence and wonder and gratitude. Marinette took all the bits of himself that he gave, and cradled and treasured them, because she understood. Because she was the same. Because he was standing here wearing a song she wrote with color and cloth and the work of her hands and it was absolutely wrecking him.

Juleka was right, he was hopeless.

“Luka, is everything okay?” Marinette called, and he realized he’d been standing there too long.

He steadied his voice as best he could and called back, “Yeah, everything’s fine, I’m dressed. These clothes are amazing, Marinette.”

She got him. Marinette absolutely, one hundred percent got him, from the subdued base colors to the pops of brightness, to the way the snake motifs were simultaneously edgy and whimsical enough to be nonthreatening. The shirt fit closer than anything else he ever wore, but it was comfortable and not clingy. The jeans, subtly textured to mimic the lines of Viperion’s suit, felt like an inside joke between the two of them, made even funnier because she didn’t know that he knew she knew.

He took one more steadying breath and stepped out from behind the screen.

Marinette did an excited little wiggle. “Oh, you look so good, just like I imagined! Ooh, I love it when a project comes together. How does it feel, do I need to fix anything? Turn around.”

“It feels great, Marinette, really, it’s like they were made for me.” He winked at her as he turned slowly.

“Hang on, there’s a loose thread back here...there.” Marinette stepped back. “Perfect.” She looked up into his face. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” Luka stepped close and gripped her shoulder. “I really do. You’re an artist, Marinette.” He grinned. “Sneaky, too. You didn’t have any of this detail done the last time I was here.” He turned slightly to indicate the patches of different textured fabric on the jeans.

Marinette giggled. “It’s true, I saved some things for last so you’d still be surprised.”

“I’m speechless, really.” He dropped his hand and stepped back, gesturing her towards the other screen. “But you better…” Marinette nodded and turned away as he turned to look in her full length mirror. He could see then just how well the clothes complimented his body. Luka wasn’t especially vain, but his face heated a little bit as he wondered exactly how much time she’d spent looking at him to get such results.

“How’s Juleka doing?” He heard Marinette whisper to Rose, who was standing at the corner of Juleka’s screen.

“She’s freaking out a little bit,” Rose whispered back. “I think I can calm her down, I just need a little more time.”

“Take as long as she needs,” Marinette told Rose, and then she turned to Luka. “Why don’t I go on down and meet Alya at the park?” Marinette suggested, putting a hand on his arm. “Come down when you’re ready, okay? No pressure, we’ve got plenty of time.”

“Thanks Marinette,” Luka smiled at her. “I’ll play for her a bit, that might help calm her down.”

“Perfect. Okay, we’ll see you in a few minutes. Meet us by the near fountain when you’re ready.” Marinette went down through the trapdoor.

Luka picked up his ever-present guitar and sat on Marinette’s chaise, playing a familiar, comforting melody just to remind Juleka that he was there with her.

After a few minutes his sister finally emerged from the screen, paler even than usual, but breathing steadily. Luka smiled as he looked Juleka over. He wasn’t sure how they’d done it but her hair was smoothed back into a low tail, the purple tips of her bangs tucked under the rest of her hair so the color didn’t show and clash with the blues and reds accenting the black clothes, and she wore combs on the sides of her head with a beaded version of Marinette’s snake motif. The flowy shirt had lace accents edging a wide collar that exposed Juleka’s collarbone, paired with sleek black pants that were textured similar to his own. Her outfit was both Juleka and Marinette, with a vibe that mixed Juleka’s edge with Marinette’s sweetness, and lent Juleka a bit of Marinette’s boldness as well. There was no hiding in this outfit, even with Juleka curling in on herself in nervousness. Luka got up and maneuvered her in front of the long mirror, so she could see herself.

“I like it,” was all he said, but Juleka glowed, her shoulders straightening as she looked herself over, and he swallowed against another rush of emotion to see her stand proud. “Well,” he said, smiling at her reflection, “Are we ready to do this?”

Juleka gave him a decisive nod, and led the way down the stairs.

Marinette had her back to them as they approached, and she was clearly arguing with Alya about something.

“No, Alya. I’m going to go with Luka and we’re going to have fun and there’s not going to be any pressure or awkwardness or drama, end of story. Anyway, I asked him weeks ago, I’m not going to bail on him now.”

“I still think you’re missing a chance, but if you’ve already asked him then I guess—oh, hey guys! Ready to rock the camera, you two?” Alya waved and Marinette turned quickly, blushing as Luka and Juleka approached.

“Great, you’re here,” Marinette said, putting on a smile that was only a little strained.

“Everything okay?” Luka asked her quietly as Alya turned away.

“Yeah, just a difference of opinion,” Marinette smiled thinly. “We’re having a lot of those lately, but we’re working on it. At least this time she took no for an answer, so that’s progress.” She smiled at Juleka. “Ready Juleka? How do you feel?”

“Okay,” Juleka said, fidgeting. Her shoulders were rolling forward again as her chin dropped toward her chest. Rose took her hand.

“Just like the plan, Juleka,” Marinette said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll start out here at the fountain, and then if we feel up to it, we’ll try a few other places through the park. We’ve got plenty of time so we can take a break any time you need to. We’re aiming for way more pictures than we actually need, so don’t feel pressured. Then just before sunset when we have the best light, we’ll change you both into the formal clothes.”

Juleka nodded her understanding.

“As for poses, I have some reference pictures to get us started, and then as you get comfortable, we can just roll from there.” She patted Juleka’s shoulder. “If you need a break, don’t be afraid to let us know, okay? ”

Juleka dipped her head in a way that normally would have hidden her face, ashamed of her weakness. “Okay,” she mumbled.

Luka lifted his hand to rest it on her shoulder but he was distracted as Alya put one fist on her hip, and proclaimed, “Man, I had no idea you were packing guns like that, Luka. Marinette, he needs a tattoo. He doesn’t look right without one. Maybe you could draw the snake on him with a sharpie or something.”

“Alya, he doesn’t need a tattoo, his arms are nice the way they are,” Marinette replied decisively, pushing Luka gently towards the bench by the fountain and scowling back at her friend.

“Ohhhh are they now,” Alya drawled, cocking a hip and shooting a smug look at Marinette, who spluttered.

“I’m just saying he’s fine the way he is!” she flailed, and then turned to Luka. “I mean, not that you would look bad with a tattoo if you wanted one, but you don’t need one.”

Luka snorted, seating himself on the bench. “I’d love one but I’m a total wuss around needles.”

Marinette paused her freakout and looked at him. “Really?”

“Absolute truth.”

“But your ears are pierced.”

Juleka snickered. “He passed out.”

“And she’s never going to let me forget it,” Luka sighed.

“Not in a million years,” Juleka grinned back at him.

“Big talk from someone who’s afraid of a few pictures,” Luka challenged, eyebrows raised. “Are you coming over here or what?”

A flush lit Juleka’s pale cheeks and he winced, afraid he’d pushed too far, but Marinette took her cheerfully by the hand and led her to the bench. She sat down between them for a moment, showing them the pictures she’d brought.

It was smart, giving them a place to start from, though Luka frequently had a hard time keeping a straight face as they tried to get into the poses. Marinette finally rolled her eyes at him and told him to go ahead and laugh so he could be serious when it was time for the pictures.

While he did manage to keep a straight face once they really got started, the awkward feeling didn’t leave him. Luka tried not to mind. He was really doing this for Juleka and Marinette, anyway, and he was willing to feel stupid for a while for their sakes. Marinette kept up a cheerful stream of praise and chatter and Rose was bubbling over with enthusiasm as always. Juleka began to relax and get into it, even giggling once or twice at Marinette’s silliness or blushing at Rose’s enthusiastic praise. Pride swelled in his chest as Juleka’s confidence grew; she really was gorgeous and it was gratifying to see her come to life, out of the protective shell she’d so carefully built around herself.

“Oh, are you guys doing a little photoshoot? How cute!”

The saccharine voice was unfamiliar and somehow thoroughly unpleasant, but Luka didn’t break pose until he heard Alya’s camera click. He felt Juleka draw closer to him, nearly hiding behind him, and he looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. She bit her lip and raised her hand as if to brush her bangs forward, but stopped.

Marinette planted herself squarely between her models and the newcomer. Newcomers, Luka realized. He didn’t recognize the girl with the long hair but Adrien had come up behind her. Great, he thought, glancing at Juleka again and then back at Marinette. Just what we needed.

“Hi guys,” said Adrien, looking more on edge than Luka had ever seen him. Or maybe it wasn’t the way he looked, maybe it was the way he sounded, a stressed out edge to his voice that was at odds with his relaxed stance. “Doing some more work for your website, Marinette? The designs look great, really unique.”

“They’re definitely not like anything I’ve ever seen,” the girl said, and though the words were innocent, somehow they sounded like an insult. Luka felt his shoulders tensing up.

“Isn’t it cool, Lila? Marinette’s always been plugged in to the rock ‘n roll aesthetic,” Alya said cheerfully. “You know, with all the work she’s done for Jagged Stone, and all. It’s a smart angle to start with for the website, but you know you need to show some range too, girl! Maybe next time, you can be her inspiration model, Adrien!”

“Adrien’s a professional model, Alya,” Marinette pointed out. “He’s under contract with Gabriel and they’re very strict about using his likeness. I could get sued if Adrien modelled for me without permission.”

Adrien looked stricken. “I didn’t even think about that last time, Marinette.”

“You’re okay! I mean, it’s okay! I didn’t think of it either until later. N-n-not that I didn’t appreciate the lelp, uh, help.” Marinette squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, then squared her shoulders and opened her eyes to smile at Adrien. “I appreciate you helping out, and of course I’m always happy to have your advice, but I think it’d be best if you didn’t appear in any more of the photos.”

Luka’s eyes widened slightly. “Whoa,” Juleka muttered beside him. “That was a whole sentence.”

“Well, of course Gabriel can’t allow Adrien to be used like that,” Lila said brightly, just the slightest emphasis turning her statement into a condemnation. Easily deniable if anyone called her out on it, Luka thought, a sour taste in his mouth. What a manipulative piece of work. Her eyes on him made his skin crawl and suddenly he was the one who wanted to hide behind Juleka.

“I’m glad to see you’re giving modelling another try, Juleka,” Adrien grinned at them, and Juleka gave him a tentative smile around Luka’s shoulder. “Don’t be shy, you look fantastic, and this is one of my favorite locations to shoot.” He waved a hand at the photographer setting up near the carousel. “Just be confident, you’ll do great.”

Luka turned his body so that Juleka was fully visible, though he put his hand on her back for support. “She looks awesome, doesn’t she? I keep telling her how pretty she is, but I guess it doesn’t mean much coming from her brother.” Juleka scowled and socked him in the arm. “Ow, don’t bruise me before we’re done with the photos,” he teased.

“Of course Juleka’s nervous,” giggled Lila. “I mean, there’s so much more to modeling than just being pretty. I don’t have much experience yet, but M. Agreste picked me personally, so I just know I can’t let him down. But when you’re working with an up and coming designer, you never know what people are going to think! I mean, we all know Marinette’s wonderful, but once it’s out on the web it’s out there for everybody, isn’t it, and people can be so fickle and cruel. It definitely won’t do Juleka’s modelling dreams any good if it turns out the public hates the designs.”

“Well, Marinette did win my father’s design contest,” Adrien piped up, his smile as bland as ever, but with that same stressed out edge to his voice. “And I know they gave you a release to use the photos from the show for that. That should get people’s attention, and once people are looking I know they’ll be blown away.”

“Marinette’s work speaks for itself,” Luka agreed, his own easy tone covering just how much her insinuations annoyed him. “There will always be haters, you can’t please everybody, but these are definitely the best clothes I’ve ever worn.”

“Of course,” Lila said, eyeing him up and down with a slight sneer, as if she hadn’t been blatantly checking him out a few minutes ago. Luka heard Juleka growl quietly. “I’m so lucky, modelling Gabriel clothing, you just can’t help but feel confident.” Lila gave a little twirl to show off her dress. “It makes such a difference.” She latched on to Adrien’s arm. “And having such an amazing partner to work with is a huge help. And you have such an unusual look, Juleka, I’m sure you’ll stand out no matter what people think of the clothes. Just don’t think too much about what you’re wearing and you’ll do great!”

Juleka straightened up, her shoulders going back and her uncovered eyes flashing. “Don’t worry about me,” she said, so clearly that everyone looked at her in surprise. “I feel great in this.” She struck a pose, and Alya whipped the camera up, grinning like a maniac.

“Show her how it’s done, Jule,” Luka muttered approvingly, backing out of the shot.

“That’s great, Juleka. Tilt your chin up just a little more—there, perfect!” Adrien cheered. Lila gave her “partner” a black look, but if Adrien noticed, he ignored it. The others were staring wide-eyed at Juleka as she went through a series of poses, looking like the pro Luka knew she could be. He folded his arms and grinned, winking at her when she seemed to run out of steam and glanced at him as if to ask, how did I do?

Suddenly Alya gasped. “Marinette, I have the greatest idea,” she squealed, grabbing Marinette’s arm. “Why don’t you put on the jacket and go pose with Luka?”

Marinette scowled. “Alya, that was supposed to be a surprise!”

“Never mind that right now, put it on! It’ll be great, you’ll look like the sweet girl wearing her bad boy boyfriend’s jacket. Juleka, you don’t mind taking a quick break, do you? In fact, maybe you could do something with Marinette’s hair real quick. Luka, come back over here.”

Marinette sighed, but took a prettily wrapped package out of her bag, opened it carefully, and slipped on a denim jacket with the snake motif embroidered on the front panels. It was much too big for Marinette, and Alya was right, it did look like she was wearing her boyfriend’s jacket. He took a slow breath to banish the heat creeping up his neck, glad that he had an excellent poker face. Because he was mature and chill and he could totally pose like her boyfriend without blushing up a storm, no big deal. He glanced at Alya, who looked entirely too pleased with herself. Luka was aware from Juleka that Alya was the head of the get-Marinette-a-date posse. Whether all this achieved was pushing Marinette and Luka together, or whether they actually managed to make Adrien jealous enough to open his eyes, he supposed it was a win-win from her perspective.

Oh well, if Marinette wasn’t going to object, he wouldn’t either.

Juleka redid Marinette’s hair into a low ponytail and put the end over her shoulder, while Rose touched up her makeup with quick, efficient movements.

When Marinette turned towards Alya for her approval, Luka saw that the back of the jacket was intricately embroidered with more elaborate version of the snake and flowers design on his guitar. It was a stunning piece, a little bit retro and a little bit punk with just a touch of Marinette sweetness. It looked like a huge amount of work and he kind of loved it. Maybe if he ever did manage to sell a song, he could get Marinette to make him one.

“Wow, Marinette,” Adrien said admiringly, examining the detail on the jacket lapels. “That’s quality work. Really nice. And did you design the back yourself? It looks amazing.”

“Oh, Marinette, you do so much work,” Lila chimed in. “No wonder your hands are always so rough, you must work your fingers to the bone, poor thing! It’s great to follow your passion, but you shouldn’t wear yourself out! I can tell you haven’t had much sleep lately.”

Marinette growled, and Lila’s eyes widened innocently. Alya elbowed Marientte, who just sighed.

“Ready when you are, Marinette,” Luka said nonchalantly, putting a hand on her shoulder to guide her away. “Where do you want us, Alya?”

“The jacket is amazing, by the way,” he added under his breath as Alya directed them back toward the fountain. “And your friend is about as charming as you described. Don’t let her get to you, she can’t ruin this.”

“Don’t underestimate her,” Marinette muttered back.

“Don’t underestimate yourself either. You’ve been fantastic all day, Marinette. You’re confident, in charge, you have a plan for everything, the clothes are fantastic, and did you see Juleka just now?”

“She was amazing, wasn’t she?” Marinette giggled.

“Because of you. You set this whole thing up to be as relaxed as possible, you made sure she had the support she needed, you planned ahead and prepared. You set her up for success. I’m proud of her, but I’m always amazed by you.”

Luka smiled at her, and heard the camera click behind him, reminding him of the others.

“Okay, Luka, stand over here and then lean against the bench there, like you’re almost sitting on the arm, and then Marinette, you go stand close to him.

“You might want to move a little more to the right, Marinette, so you can still see his clothes,” Adrien interjected. “There, perfect,” he grinned as Marinette adjusted.

“Luka, put your far hand on her waist and Marinette, you turn your back to me and put your hand on his shoulder—or maybe his chest would be better,” Alya directed.

“Is that okay with you?” Luka asked Marinette, who was blushing rather fiercely.

“S-sure,” she stammered, and Luka frowned.

“You don’t sound okay with it. You can tell Alya no if—”

“No, it’s fine, I just didn’t expect to be in front of the camera today and I’m nervous.” He watched her face as he settled a hand on her waist, but she didn’t flinch or look like she wanted to move away. Marinette raised her hand and it hovered uncertainly in front of him. “What about you, is this—”

Luka took her hand held it over his heart, cradling it in such a way that her hand was mostly resting on his hand rather than on his chest, and Alya squealed. “Oh, keep holding her hand like that, that’s perfect. Marinette, keep your back to me but turn towards him just a little bit. Perfect. Now just look like you’re in love, you too.”

Well, at least that wasn’t hard. Not for him, anyway. Luka studied Marinette’s stiff face. “Is she always this enthusiastic?” he asked with a small smile. Marinette giggled and relaxed a little.

“Yes, always,” she told him. “Always, everyday, one hundred percent. That’s Alya.”

“Marinette!” Alya called. “Get up on your toes and kiss his cheek!”

“Alyaaaa,” Marinette grumbled, and then looked up shyly at Luka. “Is that okay?”

“It’s fine with me, but only if you want to, Marinette. The world won’t end if we don’t get that specific shot. Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Instead of answering she did as Alya directed, rising up on her toes and barely brushing her lips to Luka’s cheek, pausing there for a moment to give Alya a chance to get the shot, before pulling back. Luka tried not to smile, but didn’t succeed very well.

Alya squealed when she checked the image and showed it to Juleka, who smirked at Luka, and to Adrien, who nodded approvingly. “Looking good.”

“They should back up a little more, closer to the fountain,” Lila suggested.

“Great idea,” Alya replied brightly. “Luka, why don’t you get your guitar? Marinette, sit on the edge of the fountain and cross your legs.”

“Wait, let’s make sure it’s not wet first,” Lila said, hurrying forward. “Maybe over here, Marinette, come this way.”

Luka didn’t clearly see what happened, he only saw Marinette pitch forward suddenly. He lunged forward at the same time as Adrien.

Both of them were too far away. Marientte crashed into the bowl of the fountain with a splash.

“Oh no, Marinette!” Lila cried, jumping back just in time to avoid the wave of water that slipped over the side of the fountain. “Oh, I should have remembered how clumsy you are, I should never have suggested getting that close! All those outcroppings at the bottom, of course you tripped!”

Luka stopped short of the bowl of the fountain and leaned over the edge, reaching for Marinette. Adrien hopped right over the edge and waded to her, catching her other arm. Together they hauled the gasping and stunned girl upright and got her seated on the edge.

“Are you all right? Did you hit your head?” Luka asked anxiously.

“I don’t think so, it was just c-cold,” Marinette stuttered. “It knocked the wind out of me.”

Adrien didn’t say anything, but the model’s lips were pressed in a thin line as he looked back at Lila. To Luka’s surprise, the girl openly smirked at him. She was too close for any of the girls to see it.

“Oh, Marinette, is your jacket ruined?” She crooned, pitting her hands to her face.

“No,” Martinette gritted. “I made sure it was washable.”

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Lila said insincerely as the other girls finally snapped out of their stupor and came running.

“Oh, Marinette,” Alya sighed. “Girl, what a time to pull a Marinette special. At least we got a few good shots.” She looked at Luka and groaned. “And now you’re wet too. Guess that means it’s time for the wardrobe change.”

Lila opened her mouth but Adrien cut her off. “Well, I’d say good luck, but I don’t think you need it. The weather’s great for a shoot, just enough clouds to keep the light soft. I hope you get some good shots. We’re due in makeup any minute now, so we better go.” Adrien took Lila’s upper arm and began propelling her away. “Stay confident, Juleka, you look fantastic. I can’t wait to see the pictures, Marinette.” He practically frogmarched Lila back to their waiting photographer across the square. Luka watched them go with a frown. Their whole vibe was just...weird.

“It’s almost golden hour anyway, so this is as good a time as any,” Alya shrugged. “You guys go, I’ll hang out here and wait for you.” She looked over toward the other photoshoot.

Marinette sighed, shoulders slumping. “Sure. But, why don’t we take the camera with us? I’ll go ahead and download a copy of the pictures so we have a backup. You know, in case you need more space or something.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “You sure, girl? You’re more likely to drop it in the street by accident. And you’re dripping wet.”

“Rose can carry it!” Marinette declared, looking over to the other photo shoot with narrowed eyes. Alya rolled her eyes.

“You’re paranoid, girl. I don’t know how you’re blaming Lila when we all know you don’t need help to fall in a fountain, but whatever.” She handed over the camera.

Marinette turned towards the rest of the group and pasted on a smile so fake Luka felt physically pained by it. “Okay, my fabulous models, back to the bakery!” She started off without looking back to see if they were following.

Luka hesitated, and then sped his long stride a little bit to catch up with Marinette. She looked up with that fake smile and he winced. “Don’t,” he said, as he put his arm around her shoulders, ignoring how wet she was. He’d already been splashed getting her out, anyway, and she hadn’t freaked out, so presumably the water wouldn’t hurt his clothes. Marinette’s smile dimmed, became a lot smaller but a lot more genuine, and she leaned into him.

“Sorry,” she sighed.

“It’s okay. Just feel what you need to feel. You don’t have to fake it. So that was Lila, huh?”

“Yep,” Marinette grumbled.

“I think you were smart not to leave the camera.”

“Really?” Marinette looked up at him.

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t know the girl, but I don’t like the way she looks at you. And after everything that happened, better safe than sorry.” He bit his lip. “Did she push you in?” he asked very quietly.

“I don’t think so,” Marinette frowned. “It happened so fast. Will you think I’m paranoid if I say I think she planned it either way?”

“No,” Luka replied grimly. “The look on her face afterward was proof enough.”

“Thanks, Luka,” Marinette sighed. “You don’t know how much it means to me to hear that someone sees what I see.”

“I saw it. I heard it in every word she said.” Then, hoping to lighten the mood, he asked, “What’s golden hour, by the way?”

“The hour right before sunset has the best light,” she explained. “It’ll make everything look nice and soft for the formal clothes.”

“But it means we’re on a schedule,” Luka nodded. “Got it. All right then, your dress-up doll awaits.” Marinette snorted and smacked his arm, and he chuckled.

They all trumped up the steps to her loft, Marinette waving off Mrs. Chemg’s confused questions about why her daughter was soaking wet with a “tell you later!”

“You were amazing out there, Juleka,” Marinette, now wearing dry clothes, told her over the screen. “You really showed Lila.”

“I suppose,” Juleka’s subdued voice replied. “It was just...I didn’t like...I mean, she didn’t really say anything bad, but…” There was a long pause. “I just didn’t like it.”

“She was being kind of insensitive,” Rose agreed. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to, but..”

“She meant to,” Luka said flatly, emerging from behind his own screen, straightening the suit jacket. “If I tried to play what was in that girl’s heart this afternoon, it would sound like a horror movie soundtrack. She knows exactly what she’s saying.” He sighed as Marinette and Rose stared at him. “You know I would never tell you who to be friends with, Jule,” he said, addressing himself to the screen, “But if you’re going to keep hanging around with her...well, just be careful. She’s the kind who knows how to hit where it hurts. If she decides you’re not on her side anymore, it won’t be pretty.”

“You...really think she’s that bad?” asked Rose, glancing sideways at Marinette and then back to Luka.

“Probably not, as long as you’re on her good side.” Luka shrugged. “But she’s definitely not the kind of person I’d want to be friends with.” He spread his hands. “How do I look?”

“Gorgeous,” Marinette answered without thinking, and then blushed deeply as Luka grinned. “I mean, the suit looks perfect on you.”

“You’re spoiling me for regular clothes, you know that, right? Do I need to wear a tie?” He tried really hard not to whine that last bit, but it did come out sounding a little put-upon.

Marinette giggled. “No, I cut the collar to look good without one. We just need to do this--” Marinette unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and fidgeted with the collar for a moment. “There. Okay, stand back, look relaxed, put your hands in your pockets.”

Luka did as she asked, and chuckled as she gave a little squeal-hop-wiggle. “It looks so good!”

“Of course it does,” he said warmly. “You do great work, Marinette. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.” He looked up as Juleka emerged from behind her screen in a closely fitted dress that flared out from her knees, going to the floor in the back and the middle of her shins in the front, and grinned. “Awesome, Juleka.”

“I took a chance with this one,” Marinette said critically, circling Juleka. “But I think it worked out. Girly, but edgy. Do you like it, Juleka?”

“I love it.” Juleka said it in a mumble, but there was a smile on her face as she rotated in front of the mirror. “Awesome.” The snake motif flowed down the lines of her body from her shoulder to the hem.

“Man, when did you grow up?” Luka asked admiringly, even though he knew she would hit him for it. She did, turning and punching him lightly in the arm.

“We’re only two years apart, weirdo.”

He reached out to ruffle her hair, but stopped himself just in time. The girls had tucked it up into some kind of complicated knot that they probably would have killed him for destroying.

“Let’s go,” Juleka huffed, turning away, but Luka could see she was pleased.

They made it down the stairs and to the park without incident. Marinette had been right, he realized, the park was filled with soft golden light. Marinette frowned. “Where’s--oh.”

Alya came jogging over from the other shoot, waving. “Hey all, you look great! Let’s do this!”

Marinette showed them another packet of poses and this time it didn’t take nearly as long for them to get relaxed into it. Marinette pulled Luka after they had a few good shots of him and let Juleka take center stage for the rest of the shoot.

“Look at her,” Luka said softly to Marinette. Thanks so much for doing this, Marinette. I can tell it’s really helping her confidence.”

Marinette squeezed his arm gently. “You’re such a softy of a big brother.”

Then it was sunset and they all went back to Marinette’s, the models changed back into their regular clothes, and everyone crammed around Marinette’s computer. “Now keep in mind none of these are edited,” Alya warned. “This is just a first look.”

“Tell me if there’s any you really hate and I won’t use them,” Marinette said as Alya loaded the images.

Pride swelled in Luka’s chest as they clicked through the pictures. Juleka was a bit stiff in the first few, but as she got more relaxed the pictures got better and better. The girls squealed and gushed, and he stood with a slow smile spreading over his face. Luka put his hand on Juleka’s shoulder and squeezed. “You look great, Jule,” he said quietly, when there was a pause in Rose’s excited gushing. “I told you you were made for this.” She didn’t say anything, but looking down, he could see the smile curling her lips. “This is...kind of a lot of pictures,” he remarked as the slideshow seemed to go on and on.

“Thank God for digital,” Alya said brightly, and then Luka couldn’t answer because he was staring at the picture of himself holding Marinette’s hand against his chest, looking down at her with an expression that could best be described as “quietly enamored” as she looked back up at him, the picture of sweetness and innocence. Objectively, it was a good picture, showing off the cut and details of his suit as well as the detailed embroidery on the back of the jacket. They also absolutely looked like a couple. In fact he’d seen engagement photos that looked just like this. He felt Juleka’s elbow dig into his ribs and his face heated at her quiet snicker.

Luka folded his arms and covered his mouth with one hand as Alya went through the rest of the pictures. Marinette standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek almost killed him. It was obvious that he was trying not to grin and Marinette had a pretty blush on her face. He hadn’t even noticed at the time that she had lifted one foot off the ground but it made the whole pose even cuter.

He dared a glance at Marinette and found her peeking through her fingers at him. He bit his lip and tried not to laugh, she looked so cute, sparkling with both amusement and mortification. Both of them shook with repressed laughter as Rose squealed delightedly at each new picture.

“So we can do some editing tomorrow,” Alya said, closing the window. “There should be plenty to work with. I think that turned out pretty well. I gotta jet like now, guys, so I’ll see you tomorrow!” She packed up her things and was gone as the other girls waved.

“I think some of those will be really fantastic for your portfolio, Juleka,” Marinette added. “Thank you so much for coming today.”

Juleka turned and hugged Marinette, mumbling something in her ear that clearly wasn’t meant for anyone else to catch. Whatever it was made Marinette tear up and squeeze Juleka even harder. Then, to his mild surprise, Juleka turned away from Marinette and hugged him too. “You’re stupid and I hate you,” she muttered into his shoulder. “Thanks for being there with me today.”

“You’re a pest and you exhaust me,” he told her, kissing her forehead. “I wouldn’t have been anywhere else.”

“Can I pleeeeeeeease hug now?” Rose begged, and then jumped on both of them before anyone could answer her. Luka laughed and expanded his embrace to include her.

“All right, all right, you guys go,” he squeezed them both one more time. “I know you’re dying to gush, so don’t wait for me.”

They didn’t, and he chuckled as they clattered down the stairs, Rose’s squeals audible until they left the house entirely. “Juleka’s going to have hearing damage before Rose is done with her,” Luka observed.

Marinette sat down in her desk chair with a heavy sigh. “That was fun, but I’m tired.”

“I could hear it, today,” Luka said, sitting down on the chaise and picking up his guitar. Marinette looked up at him.

“Hear what?”

“M.”

She brightened and came to sit next to him. “Really?”

“Really. I told you earlier, you were amazing today.” He brushed her bangs back from her forehead and tilted her chin up so he could see her eyes clearly. “I was right. It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to hear more of it. But Juleka said something to me a few days ago and I think she was right too.” Marinette blinked at him and he let his hand fall, still smiling back at her as he continued. “You can get by on your own—“ He played G for her as he’d done before. “But it’s not what makes you happy. M sounds better as a chord.” He played a G major chord. “Now that you’re in tune, maybe the next step is figuring out which other notes need to be in it, and which ones just don’t mesh.”

Marinette sighed. “How can I do that if they’re all out of tune too?” She wrinkled her nose. “This metaphor might be too complicated for me.”

“You're doing fine,” he chuckled, squeezing her shoulder. “You know you can’t control anyone else, Marinette. People will be who they are.”

“But it’s not who they are,” Marinette pouted. “It’s who she wants them to be. That, what you saw out there earlier today, that wasn’t Alya. That wasn’t Adrien.”

Luka hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I can’t really speak to that, I don’t know Alya enough. But, you know, I don’t think people really change that much that fast. Maybe it’s just that, Alya is her best self when she’s with you, and her worst self when she’s around Lila. Selfish people have that effect sometimes. Selfishness feeds selfishness. And as for Adrien...” Luka shook his head, strumming a tune thoughtfully. “I don’t know, there’s something weird going on there. He seemed like he was trying to rein Lila in, but for some reason he was afraid to be too open about it.” He shook his head again. “Really weird. But...try to give him the benefit of the doubt. I think there’s something going on there that we’re not seeing.”

Marinette nodded slowly, and then smiled up at him. “Thanks Luka.”

“Always, Marinette.”

“So...are you part of my chord, then?”

He smiled down at the strings moving under his hands. “I’d like to be,” he said softly, and then quickly added, “Remember how you felt today. How it feels to be the real you. It’ll help you stay in tune from here.”

“Thanks for doing this, Luka,” Marinette said, as he stopped playing and reluctantly put the guitar back in its case. “It was great you were there for a bunch of reasons, but--I also think it wouldn’t have been as much fun without you. It was great having your support the last few weeks. I really needed it.”

“You know you don’t need any excuse for that, Marinette.” Luka stood up and lifted the strap over his head, settling the case on his back. “Really. I’ve loved spending time with you and I hope we can still hang out.”

“Me too,” she said, cheeks dusting with pink, standing up with him. “Um, and…” She turned away and pulled down the denim jacket she’d hung up to dry. “Alya kind of spoiled the surprise,” Marinette sighed, “And it’s still pretty damp, but, um,” she held out it out to him. “This is for you.”

“For...me?” Luka just stared at her for a moment. “Marinette, I can’t, that must have been so much work. It looked so good on you, you should keep it.” Luka folded his hands over hers and pushed the jacket gently back towards her.

Marinette pouted. “Luka, I made it for you. I just, I was thinking about you and the idea came to me and I couldn’t not make it for you. You have to take it, I even made it with extra room so you can still wear your hoodie under it. It goes with your guitar. It’ll never suit anybody else as well as it would you.”

“But—” He knew even as he protested that it was futile. He was an artist, too, and he knew exactly what she meant when she said she couldn’t not make it. Sometimes a melody was too perfect and you just couldn’t help but use it. Luka knew he had to take it even before she spoke again.

“Please? I wanted to. I’ll be crushed if you don’t keep it,” Marinette told him, and that was it. Luka sighed and took the jacket from her hands.

“I love it,” he told her, running his fingers along the embroidery. “I really do. It’s perfect. I...” He shook his head, at a loss for words.

Marinette stepped into him and hugged him, and he wrapped one arm tight around her. “Thanks for everything, Luka.”

“I didn’t do much. Certainly not compared to this, and painting my guitar, and taking me to the awards gala, and letting me wear the suit you made.”

“Yeah, you did,” Marinette muttered into his shoulder. “You just don’t know it. You don’t know what it’s meant for me, these past few weeks. Maybe I would have made it through without you, but probably not nearly as well."

“Marinette…”

“I’m glad you’re part of my chord, Luka.”

Luka knew it was a bad idea even as his hand curled behind her neck, tilting her face up, and he called himself six kinds of idiot in his head as he kissed her. But when her mouth came alive under his and they moved softly together, it didn’t feel like a bad idea at all. It felt like heaven, like the cure for homesickness, like the bridge of a love song.

Love. She loved someone else. He pulled away, already missing her, hating how much he loved the delicate little noise their lips made when they parted. “Thank you,” he said into the space between them, taking a shaky breath. He cleared his throat as he straightened, dropping his hand. “And...sorry. That one was on me. I know I said we shouldn’t, but...I don’t know how else to tell you how much this means to me, Marinette. I’ll treasure it, really.”

“As long as you wear it,” Marinette said a little breathlessly, smiling softly. “Don’t treasure it in the back of the closet.”

“I don’t know how I’ll be able to wear anything else,” Luka said honestly.

Marinette licked her lips nervously, eyes flicking away and back to his, hands tightening on his almost painfully. “Luka, I—“

“I should go,” he muttered, prying his hands away, not wanting to hear another apology. He saw her concerned face and smiled. “It’s—“ He didn’t want to lie to her. “I’ll be okay. I’m just a little overwhelmed and I really need to go now, okay?”

He turned and walked blindly until he was out of sight, and then slumped against a tree and closed his eyes, irrationally angry. How many times could two people kiss before they admitted they were more than friends? He wanted to kiss her and she wanted to kiss him and why, why couldn’t it just be that simple?

Because attraction isn’t love, Luka reminded himself, and just because his reactions were driven by his emotions didn’t mean it was the same for her. She didn’t have to be in love with him to be attracted to him, to enjoy kissing him, and if he was hurting right now it was his own fault for kissing her when he knew better. He wanted something so much deeper than that with her. She has every right to want someone else. She trusted me when I said I can handle it.

We’ll both be crushed if it turns out I can’t.

He shook his head and started for home, determined to find some kind of balance within himself. Luka saw a lot of meditation in his future.

#quickspins #finding harmony #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics #backlog

34 notes · View notes

n0v4hearts · 4 years

Text

So This is Love

Ship: Snatcher/The Prince (AHIT) x SI/OC

Word Count: about 3,160 ish words, and not beta read (unless sending this to your friend at 3am to read it over is beta reading ksbdjd)

Ok, so this is majorly self indulgent, because I low-key really like masquerade balls and grand costumes and stuff, but I can't write imagery for JACK and the song "So This is Love" basically came into my heart and smashed my knees with the image of me and Snatcher dancing to this elbdj

Also! The Prince doesn't really have a name, so i just named him Luka lol

(I haven't posted anything og my self-insert, but they go by Bee and they/them pronouns, and they work as the king's mail carrier and post man. They and Luka have been close friends since childhood, and that's why they get away with so much stuff together lol)

Anyway, I need to stop rambling, I hope you like it!!! I know I do-- The actual fic is under the read more!

... <3

Acorn sighed, as they fiddled at their clothes. Even though they are a mail carrier, they are a royal mail carrier and got the privilege to be invited to a masquerade ball the kingdom is holding. The heir of the kingdom – Prince Luka – practically begged for Acorn to be there, seeing as they were a close friend of his. Luka even had a tailor of his make a set of clothes for the occasion. When he gave Acorn their set of clothes (on a mail run, no less,) they almost burst into tears. Even though Acorn was a friend of the Prince's, and technically worked for the King and his Court, they were still pretty surprised that the King allowed them to join. Acorn sharply shook their head to try and stop thinking about what happened before the party, thoughts lingering on the clothes and the handsome Prince instead.

Thankfully, Luka made the clothing he gave them lighter than what most ball dancers would wear, as well as not having many intricate ruffles or details sewn on, unlike the richer party-goers of the ball. Ladies' dresses were puffy and frilly, with hand-stitched flowers and lace put onto the dress and bodice, waists thin and masks ranging from a simple face covering with pearls and feathers to a full-on mask with lace and colorful markings with animal representatives. Men's suits were… less fun to look at, but still brought attention to them, with brighter colors and designs in the suit rather than the tones than most were used to seeing, along with their ruffles more prominent. Their masks were similar to the ladies, with most being simple masks and the most extreme one Acorn has ever seen being a peacock themed set of clothes.

Luka, who's family was hosting the ball, had a moderately complex suit. His was centered around a mouse, trying to mimic Acorn's rabbit mask and the suit he commissioned for them. His pale white and more natural fur-like colors of his suit and extra details contrasted his normal clothing style, which used more purple and red tones, showing his stature in the kingdom. His overcoat had slightly padded shoulders to emulate his everyday wear, and his vest to protect his shirt slightly covered the silly cravat that Acorn loves to torture him about. He didn't wear his boots, as he was forced to wear his uncomfortable dress shoes. Luka's mask was ornately decorated, with a small crown of pearls shaped vaguely of a lute sat on the forehead, and silver adorned the cheeks and temples of his mask. Acorn's mask and suit were nowhere as near to the simple extravagance of the kingdom's prince, but they were still proud to wear it, albeit, slightly embarrassed. Their mask was of a simple white rabbit, it's ears extending from the area just above the temples. Despite being very simple in shape, there were swirls of silver, and around the eyes and the edges of the ears, there was gold paint. Their mask also had a very little rabbit nose, similarly decorated to the rest of the mask. Their suit had no overcoat and had a more brown set of tones rather than the pure white of Luka's. Acorn was able to wear their boots, as it did match his suit, and they were sure if Luka was there to see that, he would probably give them a look that would kill.

Speaking of which, Luka was greeting the party-goers, occasionally leaning down to kiss a lady's hand as her group of friends giggled at the small gesture. When he looked up from greeting a different woman who was surrounded by her escorts and saw Acorn, they could tell his night was made. Even though they could see his mouth, he was still in front of a small group, and couldn't show his excitement fully. Luka's eyes lit up, his hazel eyes catching the candlelight to make them a more pale yellow than normal, a happy glint in his eyes. Before he could excuse himself from the group to say hello to his friend, Luka was thrust into a conversation about courting, with the young woman – her name, what was her name… Vanessa? Was that it? – and him being the topic of conversation. Acorn saw Luka stiffen slightly when he turned around to an older gentleman gently touching his arm, and realized that they would probably both be here for a while.

. . . <3

Luka crept behind Acorn, trying to be discreet about getting to the food table. Well, as discreet as he could be, being the kingdom's one and only heir to the throne, while people are trying to make him do political moves, like marrying their daughter that probably only wants to get in his pants or leave. He jabbed at his friend's sides, making them jolt and whirl around, glass slightly raised in case they needed to resort to violence. "Oh, you–!" Luka chuckled and struggled not to laugh louder than was socially acceptable as Acorn realized it was him and gently smacked the back of their hand on his shoulder. "I almost splashed my champagne all over your suit, You're High–" Acorn was cut off before they could continue.

Luka shook his head and put a finger over his lips. "Don't call me that, please. I just got out of a conversation with a neighboring kingdom's duke. I'm sure their daughter is nice and all, but God, I just want to have some food and spend time with you before I'm forced to go dance with the people here." Acorn quirked an eyebrow at that. The Prince? Wanting to spend time with the mail carrier? During a ball to find a suitable lover? Not out of the blue, but certainly not expected. Before Acorn could ask the thoughts running through their head, Luka quickly responded. "We haven't had any time to speak at all lately. I mean, I've been looking for a good school to look into law practice and you've been constantly working all the time with deliveries that my father is making you do. The whole reason why I invited you to this is so I could talk to you, not talk to the political figures," Luka bitterly spat out as he grabbed a small plate and put some sweets on it. "… Is that so wrong?" He stayed silent for a moment after saying that, previous actions slowing and calming slightly.

Acorn shook their head. "Of course not! It's alright to want to talk to someone who hasn't spoken to in a while. But," They lowered their voice slightly and moved closer to Luka, who in turn subconsciously moved towards them. "Why here? Where you are trying to find a suitable lover?" They turned their head slightly to get a look at Luka and oh stars, when did he get this close. His shoulder-length hair had a small ponytail in the back, tying off some, but leaving the rest down to frame what little of his face people could see. He smelled like vanilla and lavender, and Acorn couldn't get enough of it. They were thankful for the mask for once, hoping that the other couldn’t see their face flush scarlet as they realized what they were thinking.

Acorn looked away, probably a bit too quickly, and looked around at the scene around them as Luka sighed. “Well, you know how it is. I was kinda forced to come here. Royal duties to,” he switched to a deeper voice and cocked his head a little higher, “keep the royal bloodline alive and all that wonderful business.” He shook his head and started to walk away from the table with his plate piled high. “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t wish to, but I would like you too.” Acorn looked at Luka and smiled, while they both walked off together. Luka side-eyed them and lifted his mask slightly to eat easier. They smiled at one another after a moment, and after Luka gently slapped Acorn's hand for trying to steal a chocolate truffle, they walked onto a balcony to (hopefully) get some better privacy to talk with one another.

. . . <3

The two slightly moved their masks away from their faces, finally being able to breathe more comfortably and show their faces while in their own company. Acorn walked closer to the balcony and looked up at the sky, while Luka slowly picked at the desserts on his plate. “It’s beautiful.” Luka looked up, and swore his heart stopped at the sight ahead of him. Acorn was leaning over the balcony’s intricate stone banister, one leg tucked behind the other. Their tight bun was slightly undone, hair messy, but oh so… Elegant, is that the word? Even in the dim light of the moon shining down on them in their suit, and the band still heard playing, Luka could just stare. This moment felt too intimate. Even… even for just friends, silently pining. Acorn turned slightly, to look back at the other. “Don’t you think so?” Luka stuttered as he let out a held breath – since when did he stop breathing? He flubbed an agreement that seemed to satisfy Acorn, because they turned around and kept looking at the stars and constellations. Luka unknowingly kept admiring them, smiling to himself. He finished his dish and set it next to him as he got up to look at the stars next to Acorn. They stood there for a few minutes, pointing out constellations and enjoying each other’s company for a bit.

Luka looked over at Acorn, and his heart flipped. Oh how he wished he could just kiss them –

… Wait.

Oh. Oh.

Oh no.

He flushed red at the thought that he couldn’t quickly shoot down as he wanted to. He? And Acorn? His childhood best friend, who helped him through everything, even though they were the child of a mail carrier? He wanted to laugh, but the thought had crossed his mind too much as of late for his to even think about drawing an awkward chuckle from himself. They were just so… so perfect for him not to fantasize about what a relationship with them would be like. It would be a scandal for sure, but would anyone really mind? He saw the was his parents looked knowingly at him when he laughed a little too hard at one of Acorn insufferable puns and jokes. Even when the topic of this ball was brought up by an advisor, the King told him that it was really just a formality to “keep the bloodline alive”, and nothing more. Luka realized that he was probably staring, and cleared his throat slightly, looking back at the stars above. Then one of the band members – violin presumably – started a familiar refrain, as the other instruments slowly joined in.

Luka looked at Acorn, as they looked back at him. “You should probably… go grace somebody with you amazing dancing skills Luka.” They looked at the slightly ajar door they left open when they came out on the balcony. “I mean, some lucky lady is probably wanting to dace with you. Perhaps the one you were talking to for hours on end, hmm?” Though their voice had a teasing tone, Luka could tell that they didn’t want him to leave. Not yet.

Luka pretended to think it over, and grabbed their hand to pull them closer to him. “No, I don’t think I’ll leave just yet.” He chuckled, and dramatically leaned down to kiss Acorn's hand as they sputtered. “Care to join me for a dance, my dear?” Even in the dim lighting, Luka could tell that Acorn's face was probably scarlet at this point. Their mouth opened and closed for a moment, trying to find words without sounding like a fool, but eventually they just nodded their head. Luka smiled gently. “You don’t have to. I won’t mind if you refuse Acorn.” They stood their ground and shook their head, saying that they did want to dance. So, they got ready to waltz in time with the music.

Luka put his hand on Acorn's shoulder while Acorn put theirs on his waist. They clasped each other’s hand, and started swaying gently with the music. It was surprisingly more springy than they both remembered, but the pair started dancing slightly. They turned and swayed as the music continued, and slowed when the band quieted to let the singers… well, sing.

So, this is love

Mmm~

Luka hummed the words slightly as the pair subconsciously moved closer to one another. Acorn looked up at Luka slightly, eyebrow raised. Luka scoffed slightly. “We both know that we’ve been raised on this song, don’t give me that look.” Luka gently nudged the other, and Acorn chuckled.

So this, is love…

So this is what makes life, divine

Closer and closer still, the pair moved in tandem with one another, circling like two moons orbiting a forgotten planet. They swayed, with Luka gradually whispering the lyrics, enjoying himself. They both looked borderline ethereal to the other, both of them unbelieving of the sight they had.

“I’m all aglow, mmm

And now I know,”

“And now I know…” Acorn sang slightly, looking at Luka while he sang the verse before. They both seemed surprised that Acorn did that, but Luka recovered and muttered that they had a nice voice. Acorn flushed, and buried their face into Luka’s jacket, stuttering.

“The key to all heaven is mine…”

They harmonized with themselves and the singers inside the castle. They had stopped dancing altogether at this point, and had just started embracing each other instead. Acorn's head was on Luka’s shoulder, and Luka was staring ahead, head tilted slightly to clay. The pair still swayed gently, but it wasn’t to start dancing.

My heart has wings, mmm

And I can fly

I’ll touch every star in the sky…

Luka looked down to Acorn, and saw the peaceful expression they held. ‘They are right there,’ he heard himself scold. ‘Just kiss them, get it over with.’

So this is the miracle

That I’ve been dreaming of…

Mmm

They now faced one another and started slowly leaning together, their faces almost touching. Luka’s eyes fluttered closed as Acorn's glanced down at his lips.

Mmm

So this…

Is love.

The singer’s duet ended, and their lips finally connected. It felt like fireworks and explosions were going off, sparks dancing on their lips. As the two gripped each other tighter, they didn’t hear the pair of feet making their way towards them. “Your highness, you are–” The guard cut herself off as she realized what she had walked into unknowingly. The two parted quickly once her voice was heard, and Acorn tried to shuffle away from Luka slightly to try and at least pretend that they totally weren’t kissing, what? “I, I’m sorry your highness, I can come back–”

Luka shook his head, but never let go of Acorn. “No, no. What is it?” He inquired and put most of his attention to the distraction at hand, slightly disappointed. Acorn looked down at the ground, away from the guard, suddenly taking interest in a few pebbles on the surrounding stone.

The guard re-positioned herself. “The King wanted to see you sire, but I will just let him know that you are… Busy doing other things. I, uh. Hope I didn’t interrupt anything too maj– you know what? I’m just gonna…” The guard awkwardly walked off, shifting in her armor slightly, embarrassed that she walked in on the prince and the mail carrier having a moment together.

... "Wait, the mail carrier??"

Luka waited for a moment after she left, making sure the gentle clinks of her armor had faded completely. The pair stayed silent for a moment, before Acorn tried to shift away again. Luka pulled them to where they were originally in his arms and smiled mischievously. “Where do you think your going, lover?” He teased, laughing slightly as Acorn pretended to fight back. He grin became wider as he realized that Acorn had blushed darker. “Oh, did you like that dearest? Calling you ‘lover’?” Luka cooed at them, as Acorn gently swatted at him. “Just come here, sweetheart,” and with that last teasing pet name, he brought them into another kiss, less tentatively. He could feel Acorn smile as they let out a silent sigh and melt against him, knees weak. Luka pulled away slightly, and as Acorn's head followed the movement slightly, he whispered, “Don’t you think we should take this somewhere a little more private after the guard, you know…?” Acorn's knees fully gave out, and Luka hurriedly clung onto them as he felt how hot they were. He fussed over them for a second, hoping that they didn’t fully pass out.

They both chuckled for a moment after Acorn quickly recovered, and Acorn muttered something along the lines of “Kissing is just fine for now, anything more and I think I’ll die.” The two couldn’t contain their loud laughter at this remark, Luka’s laughter carrying on over Acorn's. He leaned over and gently pecked their cheek, saying how they didn’t want anyone to see them kissing again, and that he was sorry that he insinuated something more than kissing. Acorn pecked him back on his lips, and accepted the apology.

💛

(Little bonus scene! I didn’t really wanna write this out fully, but I kinda wanted to add what one of their fist meetings could be sknf -- enjoy!!)

Looking back on it, the Snatcher could hardly believe that he was so in… actual infatuation and love with a childhood friend that he could hardly believe that he could marry Vanessa. She was of course, fine at the start, but the lingering feelings for the pair never truly left their hearts. He shook his head, looking back down at his book, waiting for that kid – Hat Kid was it? Or was it Bow? – when a knock sounded on the tree bark. Snatcher sighed. “What do you want, ki–”

His sentence was abruptly cut off as he saw an all too familiar face in the entry way with Hat Kid behind them. “Hello your highness. Been a few years, hasn’t it?” Snatcher almost dropped his book as his jaw hung slightly. Acorn, in the flesh. Right there. Their clothes were much more casual to fit the modern times, and they carried a mail bag on their shoulder, with a mail carrier's cap in one of their hands.

Snatcher blinked a few times. “Yeah… 10, at least, huh sweetheart?” Acorn laughed loudly, and ran towards him. They embraced again, and finally after 200 years of waiting, wondering if the other was alive or not, Acorn peppered Snatcher’s face with kisses. There certainly wasn’t going to be any complaining about this for a while to say the least. Even from a ghost who always said he had a reputation to uphold.

#self shipping #self ship #oc x canon #self ship fic #self ship writing #dead.lawyer #beeans.art #humming #this took WAY too long #i am super happy with how it came out though. i got to be kinda cheesy smbdjd

7 notes · View notes

moondustis · 5 years

Text

sunshine all around me (m)

pairing: mark lee + reader genre: smut, fluff, minor angst word count: 4,1k summary: “When church camp is over you go home and don’t think about soulmates anymore. You think about graduating, you think about dreams that you can go after and you think about a boy pushing you inside a lake.” a/n: this is a sequel to innocence and heaven all around me, i suggest reading them before this one to understand the plot better.

When church camp is over you go home and don’t think about soulmates anymore. You don’t think about not being the same anymore, or about people leaving you behind. You think about graduating, you think about dreams that you can go after and you think about a boy pushing you inside a lake.

Mark is different from Jaehyun, but similar in a way. He’s comfortable, warm and easy to be around. But he doesn’t treat you like you might break, like a delicate thing, the way Jaehyun did. You find out that you like it.

Mark is different from everyone you have ever met in this small town. He thinks big, outside what everyone seems to want him to do. He wants to chase his dreams just like you, and maybe with you if you get to be this lucky.

It’s a wednesday afternoon, summer break almost at the end and you try not to think about what that implies. Mark is showing you his vinyls as you both sit cross legged on his bed and of of them plays in the background. It’s mostly old stuff, classics that his father passed along, and even if you don’t know half of it you enjoy listening to him talk with such excitement.

“I don’t have a lot of new stuff.” He says, sorting around the albums and getting a pink one out the box he keeps them. “But I got this one recently... Have you heard it?”

He shows you an album that you finally recognize and you can’t help but laugh a little. “Harry Styles? Didn’t take you for a One Direction enthusiast, Mark Lee.” You tease and he blushes at little, shaking his head and laughing with you.

“I swear I’m not.” He says, defending himself and you just nod playfully like you don’t believe him. “But his solo stuff is like, really good. You gotta give it a listen.”

He hands you the album and you examine it. It’s pretty and you like the pink tones. “Yeah? What’s your favorite track?”

“Oh... It’s actually a song that reminds me of you.” He avoids your eyes a bit, his words confident but his body language saying otherwise. It’s extremely endearing. “It’s the one called Only Angel.”

You never heard the song but the name alone and the fact Mark has a song that makes him think of you makes your heart flutter. “Really? I’ll definitely have to listen to it now.”

You give him a sweet smile that he reciprocates, shifting around the bed so he can put the vinyls away. “I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will.” You probably won’t even care if the song is bad. You would probably enjoy anything if Mark told you it made him think of you.

“You know what we should do?” He asks after moving the vinyls away and plopping himself on the bed again so he’s on his back, arms sprawled around. You move to tickle at his exposed tummy without hesitation and he laughs while squirming around.

“Get ice cream?” You guess and he smiles nodding his head.

You walk to the ice cream parlor hand in hand, some people giving second glances your way. You don’t mind it, just laugh when Mark swings your arms together in a silly way.

The two of you haven’t talked about what happened and what is happening yet. You don’t feel the need to and apparently neither does Mark. It’s easy when he kisses you and it tastes like dark chocolate ice cream, and the memory of someone that tasted just like this once is faint.

✱

You meet Mark’s mom a month after summer camp. You have seen her before of course, at church and whatnot but it’s different this time.

Classes are back but you still go to his house frequently, but now it’s after school and his mom there sometimes so he says it would be better if you two met before something awkward happens. Like her finding his catholic son doing not so catholic things.

It goes well, your hands sweating a bit, even more when Mark calls you his girlfriend for the first time.

“Girlfriend, huh?” You tease after his mother has left for work again and you both retrieve to his room.

He looks like a deer caught in headlights, laughing in a nervous way. It’s so easy to rile him up. “Oh. I-I just thought that it would be okay.” He stumbles over his words, talking a bit too fast. “Sorry for not properly asking.”

You laugh, sitting on his bed and gesturing for him to come forward. “It’s okay, Mark. ‘M just teasing.” Your hands settle on his arms, tugging him down so you can get a kiss. “I like being your girlfriend.”

He hums before kissing you, sweet and warm like always, hands on your hair to tilt your head in a better position. You love the taste of his chapstick and how he looks at you with puppy eyes when you break the kiss. “You do?”

You nod. “And I like kissing you too.” He kisses you again, deeper this time with his tongue licking against your lips until you finally part them, letting his tongue move against yours in a way that has become familiar.

He moves you further to the bed during the kiss in a messy way that you don’t mind. It’s nice to have him on top of you, your hands gripping at the hair on his nape as he kisses you with a bit more purpose.

“What else do you like?” He asks when you break the kiss to catch your breath. He sounds confident, almost seductive and it’s such a high contrast to the boy who lost his virginity to you in a church camp that you can’t help but tease.

“Hmm, let me think.” You joke, hands moving to his neck and he shivers a little while smiling at your antics. “I like how you feel on top of me, Mark.”

You notice his eyes are blown now, mouth parting at your words. “What else?” He asks again, in an almost whisper now.

“I like... when you fuck me.” You whisper back, stuttering a bit as your cheeks go pink to match his. Once upon a time, you would never even think of saying these words, but everything with Mark feels so natural that it makes you brave. “And I like your cock.”

The words just escape you and it’s so dirty that you have to close your eyes in embarrassment. “Holy shit.” Your hear him saying with a breathy voice, almost close to a moan, before he’s kissing you again and you don’t have time to be embarrassed anymore.

It goes like it usually does, Mark dips his hand underneath your skirt and plays with your clit until you’re as wet as he likes. He doesn’t need instructions anymore when he makes you cum with two of his fingers inside, his eyes watching with lust.

He doesn’t need instruction anymore when he finishes getting the condom on and enters you with a moan that you mimic. It’s blissfully almost, but there’s a thought in the back of your head that says more would be good too.

“Mark...” You breath out after another slow thrust, his head immediately coming up from where it’s resting on the curve of your neck. “‘M so close. Please fuck me harder.”

It’s the first time you’re asking for that, his eyes widening a bit. “Harder?” He asks, and you would find it cute if he didn’t look so good with his hair a bit sweaty and lips puffy and red from kissing.

You nod quickly, gripping harder at his back as if to accentuate your want. “Please.” You plead and he mutters a quiet okay before changing the pace of his movements.

He was always so gentle, almost careful, with this, so it catches you out of breath when he starts fucking into you with quick sharp thrusts, each one accompanied by a grunt.

In no time he starts going faster too and it makes you moan his name. This is new to you just as it is for him, when he asks if it’s good all you can do is nod with whines falling from your lips.

You close your eyes and images of his hands around your neck one day fills your mind. Of his hand coming down in a slap that makes your ass red and tingle. You can’t imagine sweet and caring Mark doing something like that, but maybe that’s what makes the thought so good. Maybe that’s what makes you come with your whole body arching from the back and his name spilling from your lips.

He follows soon after, cursing when he finally finishes inside of you. One of his hand grips tightly at your waist, making you clench around him and he cries out.

You giggle when he plops himself beside you on the bed after throwing the condom away and putting his boxers back on. He looks relaxed now, without a care in the world as he cuddles you closer. For now you won’t think about the test you have tomorrow or how it scares you a little that Mark Lee is engraving himself in your heart without even noticing.

✱

You had forgotten that this would happen, even if your mother had told you a million times. She was beyond excitement that Jaehyun would be coming to visit his parents for a weekend, telling you about dinner plans and whatnot.

So when friday comes, you get home from school to find him sitting on your front porch. The same front porch he had kissed you for the first time.

He doesn’t notice your arrival until you’re clearing your throat and his head is shooting upwards. “_____!” His voice is half surprised, half out of breath, as he gets up from the stairs and stops for a couple uncertain seconds before he’s hugging you. “How long has it been, holy shit.”

You hug him back, a little out of breath from the strength he’s putting in this hug. “Hi, Jae.” You mutter against his chest, feeling a hundred of feelings twirling around your head. “Long time, huh?”

It had been almost a year since last time you saw him, during christmas and even then it was just a brief hello before he had to leave again. He looks the same, you notice when he breaks the hug, the only difference is his hair shade that’s just the slightest brighter now.

It’s not weird, the way he keeps a hand on your cheek. It’s caring and platonic, like everything that surrounded Jaehyun had been for you for the past years. “I really missed you.” He says genuinely and you say the same words back, hugging him again. “Do you have anything to do now?”

You shake your head. “Not really, why?”

“Then let's get ice cream.” He says, giving you a smile that’s too familiar.

It’s not weird, you tell yourself, as he sits across from you outside the ice cream parlor across the church. It’s nostalgic, that’s why you get the weird feeling in your chest. You eat the dark chocolate one and he gets vanilla. You want to ask but you don’t.

“So you and Mark Lee, huh?” He asks around a scoop of ice cream, eyebrows raising at you.

You blush, feeling guilty for some reason. “Did my mom tell you that?”

“Mine actually. Apparently you’re the talk of town.” He’s teasing in a way that screams Jaehyun and you can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, well, everyone likes Mark.” You mutter, finishing the last spoon of your ice cream. It was true, Mark, like Jaehyun once was, is the city’s favorite. He always say hello to everyone on the street and sings on church, there’s nothing much to unlike about him.

Jaehyun’s eyes soften. “Come on, everyone likes you too.”

“I doubt that.” You shrug, laughing a little uncertain. “I’ve been missing sunday mass a lot lately... they probably think I’m corrupting him or something.”

Jaehyun laughs with his whole body now, the one that you once considered your favorite in the world. “Like I corrupted you?” His sounds boyish, voice low so no one around would hear it.

“Jaehyun! Oh my god.” You exclaim, slapping his arm from across the table but laughing too. “What is wrong with you?”

“Sorry, sorry. Was just messing with you.” He apologizes insincerely, smirking around the spoon and looking down. “But hey, It doesn’t matter if these people don’t like you, right? You’ll be out of here soon.”

You nod, slowly. “Yeah, you’re right.” Just a few more months and you’ll be leaving just like Jaehyun did. You can already understand why he almost never visits, there’s no future here.

“Are you still going to SNU?” He asks and you nod in reply, a bubble of excitement on your stomach. “What about Mark?”

His question sounds like nothing more than that, but you know he wants to know if you’ll have to go through that again. Wants to ask ‘is Mark going to leave you like I did?’

“He’s going there too.

” You say with a small smile on your lips and you can practically hear his sigh of relief.

“That’s nice... really nice.” His voice is genuine and he looks at you now, with eyes warm and you remember a time where he felt like home. Not with bitterness, never that. “I’m really happy for you, ____. Mark is a nice dude. And it’s nice to see you living in your life, even if I find out about most of it through mom’s gossips.”

You laugh, reaching out for his hand and squeezing it. “I know, Jae. I promise I’ll do better at updating you on my latest news.”

For some reason, in your overdramatic mind, this feels like he’s finally returning the pieces of your heart that he took with him that day years ago. You would tell him that he will always be a part of your life, but there’s no reason to. He already knows because you will always be a part of his too. It was meant to be like this.

“But tell me, when did you and him even get together?” He breaks the sentimental moment.

“At church camp.” You immediately regret telling him because knowing Jaehyun, you know he’ll tease you about this for the rest of your life.

✱

You and Mark are cuddling in your living room couch, watching some tv show that he was really into but you didn’t catch the plot exactly, drifting asleep from time to time. Something about a bank heist or something.

He comes to your house a lot lately now that your mother finally got used to him, falling to his boyish charm like everyone around town. You usually did homework but graduation was close now, the old responsibilities not as heavy.

You’re almost falling asleep again, the sound of the tv show fading away when you feel his hand moving to your neck and you whine at him interrupting you. “Noo, I was almost asleep.”

He laughs softly, the one you love so much and suddenly you’re not that bothered anymore. “Sorry, baby.” The nickname has been a normal occurrence these days because the two of you had a fight, making him extremely loving afterwards, as if to apologize even if you weren’t upset anymore.

You watch him through sleepy eyes, eyeing the dark circles around his eyes and the stubble that he forgot to shave this morning. He continues to play with your neck, until his hand descend just a little and he starts to play with the little cross pendant you always wear, his eyes following the movement. “Jaehyun’s mother gave it to me.... the necklace, I mean.” It just escapes from you but he doesn’t seem bothered by the mention of Jaehyun, never is.

His eyes just move to yours, softening as he smiles at you. “I really like it.”

“Me too.” You mutter, moving to press a peck to hips because it seems fitting and because you want to. He seems to like it, pressing peck after peck on your lips until you’re giggling and telling him to stop.

“I had an idea.” He says suddenly, sitting up on the couch and moving you alongside. The tv show playing is long forgotten.

You look at him with a suspicious look. “Hm, what is it?”

“We should go on like, a road trip or something like that.” He says, eyes not leaving yours, almost pleading for you to say yes. “After graduation, to have one last memory and all that.”

“A road trip?” You ask, laughter in your voice. “Where would we even go?”

He thinks for a second. “I don’t know... To the beach, maybe? You always talk about how you want to go there.”

“It’s gonna be winter then, Mark. We won’t even be able to swim.” The two of you know you’re just arguing for the fun of it, when it comes down to it you’ll go anywhere with him.

“Come on, baby.” He whines. “We can go for the view. And we’ll be together so there’s no way it won’t be fun.”

You throw a little show of acting like you’re pondering if you should go or not before you’re smiling at him. “Yes, let’s have a road trip.” He celebrates with with a deep ‘let’s get it’ before pressing another peck to your lips, making you laugh. “Will your dad be okay with letting us borrow the car?”

“Of course, baby. We’re just two christian kids going on a religious journey, what could go wrong?” He says in a funny voice and you laugh even harder.

✱

Graduation comes in a blink, and soon after you’ve posed for pictures and gotten your diplomas, you find yourself with Mark in his dad’s car.

It’s sunny outside but still cold enough that you can’t keep the windows open for too long. By far not the perfect weather to go to a beach but you’re still excited when Mark pulls from the driveway and drives until you’re on the road.

You’re only one hour into the five hours drive when you start getting impatient. The song that plays on the radio a bit boring and the excitement of doing this making giddy. “Are you hungry?” You ask Mark just to say something, but if he is there’s a lot of snacks packed on the bag sitting on the backseat.

He laughs at your question. “Of course not, baby. We literally ate before we left.” He says, sneaking a glance at you with his kind eyes before he focuses on the road again. “Are you bored already? I told you can take a nap if-“

“Nooo.” You cut him. “I promised I wouldn’t fall asleep. Gotta make you company since I can’t drive.”

“Suit yourself.” He laughs again and it’s sweet, so sweet that you feel like a teenage girl with a crush. Since you’ve gotten in the car you have had this feeling in your stomach, like the butterflies that you felt when the relationship were just beginning are going crazy again. Maybe it’s because Mark is driving you to a place that he knows you’ll like, maybe it’s because you’re finally both alone without a care in the world. Whatever it is, you hope he feels the same way.

You look outside the window for a moment, the sun is weaker now and you hope it won’t be gone so soon. “Doesn’t this feel like a thing that would happen in coming of age movie?” You wonder out-loud, not taking your eyes out of the window.

“Like the ones you like to watch?” You hum as you pass by a theme diner that you wish you could stop by. “What’s the plot? Madly in love couple go on a road trip before college starts?”

You snort, ignoring the butterflies going even crazier at the little word. “That’s exactly what the plot is.”

“I would definitely watch it then.” His voice is teasing and it makes you laugh. “Especially if you were the main character.”

You let out a silly shriek and he laughs too. “Oh my god. Are you flirting right now, Mark Lee?”

“I don’t know... did it work?” He asks smugly, doing a kissy face without taking his eyes out of the road and you can’t help but give in, pressing a smacking kiss to his cheeks with a small giggle.

“It did.” There’s a silly smile on your face that he mimics. “You know it always does.”

“That’s kinda corny, not gonna lie.” He teases but still moves his hand to your lap so he can hold yours.

“Says the corniest man alive.” The offended gasp he lets out is so funny and well place that you spend the next minutes laughing until you’re tired.

You stay in a comfortable silence for the next hour, only making comments here and there, with the radio playing songs that you mostly don’t know. You wish you had remembered to make a playlist to listen to.

You almost doze off a few times but never falling completely asleep, sometimes watching Mark drive, in a way that’s weirdly attractive to you, and other times looking outside the window.

It stays like this until a familiar tune starts playing on the radio and you’re muttering an ‘oh my god.’

“Dude, no way.” Mark says excitedly as he moves to turn the volume up. It’s a song that he showed to you one day, one that was a part of his vinyl collection and you’re both giddy that a song that you recognize is finally playing.

You both hum and sing along to it while the singer’s voice blasts through the speakers. “And I take a deep breath and I get real high!” You sing loudly, making Mark laugh as he takes quick glances at you and your improv performance with your phone. “And I scream from the top of my lungs...”

“What's going on?” You both scream with the radio, laughing afterwards.

As the chorus starts, you act on impulse and open the window so you can stick you head outside while Mark sings the ‘yeah, yeahs’ and drums on the steering wheel. You don’t even mind the cold wind hitting your face and making your hair fly around. You feel happy and in love and when you get inside again, looking at Mark, he has a smile on his lips that tell you he feels the same way.

✱

You finally get to the beach an hour later because you make Mark stop at another themed restaurant that you couldn’t let pass by, but it’s perfect because the sun is setting and it looks like something out of a movie.

“This is so perfect, Mark.” You breath out when you two finally make to the sand. You don’t mind the cold wind , actually think that it makes it even better.

“Yeah.” He lets out a sigh, his hair getting in all directions and his nose turning pink from the cold. “Was worth the drive, huh?”

You hum, moving closer so you can hug him. “Thank you for bringing me here.” He feels warm because of all the layers he has on, and his cologne is still strong making you sigh as you continue to watch the sunset with your head resting on his chest.

“Thank you for coming with me.” His words are muffled but so sincere that you’re hit with the wave of infatuation that has been building ever since you got into that car. Maybe ever since you took his virginity inside an old cabin. You could cry as you look at him, your eyes glassy as he meets them and gives you your favorite smile in the world.

“I love you, Mark.” You mutter quietly, like it’s a secret you share. It’s the first time either of you have said it, jokes about being in love aside, and it feels right.

“I love you too.” He says just as quietly and then you’re both giggling like silly before he kisses you.

It you still believed in soulmates you’d probably say Mark is yours, because that's just how you are and that’s how it feels like. But you don’t believe in that anymore. You believe in the way you feel when Mark is around and you believe in the way he makes you smile without even trying.

And deep down you believe this is how it was meant to be all this time.

#mark scenarios #mark smut #nct smut #nct scenarios #neowritingsnet #shes finally here! the final heaven all around me chapter :)#i know this story was short but still you guys showed so much love to it that i wanted to make something special to end it #hope you like it :)#i apologize for anyone that sees this on mobile!

386 notes · View notes

tisfan · 4 years

Text

I Take Thee, Witch

Chapter Five - I Wanna Reach Out and Grab Ya

Bucky couldn’t sit still, Wanda decided. She’d dragged more than one chair over to him. Moving things with a gesture and a few choice words was the most impressive part of her magic. Or maybe it was that she was using magic and it made him nervous.

“Look, I’m not a very important witch, and I don’t know a lot of magic,” Wanda started. “You’ll hardly notice at all.”

“You’re moving things around by pointing at them, I think that counts as impressive magic,” Bucky said, waving his arms around.

“Oh, no, no,” Wanda said. “My father’s very important, he’s in charge of the moon.”

“I thought you said he worked for NASA,” Bucky said, stopping in his tracks to look at her.

“Well, yes, he does, sort of,” Wanda said. “In that he drops in from time to time, especially when they get their silly little satellites too close.”

“And no one’s ever reported a witch in a pointy hat showing up at NASA?”

“Well, no,” Wanda said. “You’re being prejudiced, the pointy-hat thing was centuries ago, and not all witches wear them.”

“Did you seriously just hashtag-not-all-witches me?”

“Look, Papa has a coven on the moon,” she said. “It’s safe and there are a lot of technological issues that cause problems and complications with magic, so-- moon coven. That’s where Papa works. The Brotherhood of Witches.”

“Witches aren’t women?”

“Right, like all doctors are men,” Wanda said, rolling her eyes. “You don’t have to be sexist and stubborn at the same time. Witch is what we do, what we are, not what bits and parts we have.”

“So, do something witchy,” Bucky challenged.

“You mean aside from moving the furniture,” Wanda said. She sighed, gestured, let her nose wiggle and poured herself a drink. From across the room. Let it float over to her hand. “Hmmm. Whiskey. Not my favorite.” She twitched and the whiskey became a glass of wine. “Not enough.” Another wiggle and there was a margarita in her hand. A big one, with sugared rim and some gummy fishes floating in it. “Better. You want one?”

“Vodka,” Bucky said, firmly, staring.

She snapped her fingers and produced a vodka for him. And just to be obnoxious about it, she imported it from Russia. She didn’t include the Russian who was drinking it, because she couldn’t make things out of nothing. She could move them, replace them, change them. But there were certain rules about magic and creating something out of nothing was… well, it had been done a few times before, and the results had been disastrous.

Certainly, she wasn’t going to get arrested for Creating Chaos.

“All right,” Bucky said. He drank his vodka and then hissed between his teeth. “Oh, that’s good.”

Wanda pointed a finger and filled it up again. “You believe me now?”

“Oh, I’m not sure that I’m not just dreaming,” Bucky said.

“You’re not,” Wanda assured him. “I mean, maybe I shouldn’t have married you. Witches don’t always mix with mortals, and a lot of times it really doesn’t go well, but I… I just love you, so much.”

Bucky finished the glass of vodka. “I love you, too,” he said. “I do, don’t I? You didn’t…” He made some sort of gesture with one hand that was meant to mimic a magic spell, but looked just ridiculous. His fingers were far too stiff.

“No,” Wanda said. “I… I can’t do that. Not that another witch couldn’t, perhaps. But I don’t know how. All I-- Papa wants me to marry a warlock, the Vision. And I didn’t want to. So I cast the Hearts Desire. It’s not a love potion, it doesn’t… create feelings. It just shows you the-- not even really a soul mate. Just shows you the person you’re most compatible with. That you have the best chance of having a good relationship with. All the rest of it, that’s all still us, and our work to make it work.”

“So, the magic said I was your best possible… husband?”

Wanda nodded. “Are you mad about it?”

Bucky put the glass down and crossed the room to her. “I’m not mad,” he said. “I love you. We’ll-- we’ll talk about it more in the morning.”

“I mean, I thought you should know,” Wanda said, biting the side of her lip. “But also, I probably ought to warn you.”

“Warn me?” Bucky picked up his glass again, refilled it. Honestly, if he kept that up, she’d probably have to magic him sober again, just so she could enjoy her wedding night. And she wasn’t really good at that sort of thing.

“Papa was here,” she said, waving a hand at the now closed and locked window. Not that locks -- mortal locks -- would do any good if Papa wanted in. “He’s not… disposed toward our marriage.”

“Uh.”

“He’ll probably just try to talk me out of it. A lot. I’m unlikely to wake up with a bullfrog on my pillow or anything.”

“That’s possible? The whole turning people into frogs thing?”

“For some witches,” Wanda admitted. “And while it’s not hard to change yourself. I can do that. But it’s really hard to change other people. He’d not expend the effort. Also, the Council of Witches disapproves of anything that might let mortals know we’re around.”

Bucky gave her a sharp look. “Like marrying one?”

Wanda winced. She had hoped he might not put that all the way together. “It’s possible.”

Bucky put the glass down again, and while he wasn’t looking at it, Wanda whisked it off to the sink. No more drinking. “I’ll fight for you, you know,” Bucky said. “Witch or not. You’re my wife.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Bucky said, gathering her up into his arms. “Now-- I’m going to take you to bed, unless there’s something else pressing I need to know.”

“Not right at present, I think,” Wanda said, giggling as he carried her the few feet over to the bed and dropped her on it.

“Hello, wife.”

“Hello, husband.”

Outside the window, barely noticed, an owl watched, golden eyes unblinking. For a long moment, the owl merely perched there, resting on the rail. Then, with a sigh that seemed too big for such a creature, it launched itself into the air.

Higher and higher it flew, way past what a normal own would do, and then past what a normal owl could do.

He was beyond the reach of earth’s gravity before Erik Lenhsherr changed into his birth-form. Strong and powerful and handsome, wearing a dark magenta cloak and his psionic disrupting helm, he made an impressive sight. If anyone could have seen him.

Which they could not. Erik had not reached the age of five full centuries by being an idiot.

He landed on the dark side of the moon and approached the fortress there. Genosha shimmered out of the illusion that protected it, and the door opened to admit him.

The Vision appeared, probably summoned by magical alarms. “And--”

“She married a mortal,” Erik snarled.

“Oh,” the Vision was a nebbish sort, technically a witch of such high standing as to earn his own sobriquet. But he didn’t have the magnetism to pull off powerful witchery. He’d been expecting to marry into Erik’s family and earn more status with that alliance. “What shall we do?”

“Watch. Wait.” Erik suggested. “She’s not likely to be very happy among the mortals, and when she’s ready to come home, it would be best if she wasn’t already angry with you.”

“True,” the Vision said. “And, if nothing else, mortals don’t live all that long. I can just as easily be married in thirty years as now.”

Erik hummed thoughtfully, but didn’t respond. Better to be silent, and thought wise.

But Wanda had always been stubborn. The twins both were.

It would be a long, difficult half century.

for @livewire28

A/n - If this was an actual TV show, this would be the end of the pilot episode... consider the theme music playing

#bewitched AU #winterwitch #Bucky x Wanda

11 notes · View notes

lilliloves · 4 years

Note

20. “I’m not playing truth or dare.” For Brio! Thank you :)

I got LOTS of requests for this one so hopefully it satisfies the masses! Part of this universe!

The corner of Beth's mouth tilts upwards as she watches her sister and best friend bicker back and forth about - well, she isn't entirely sure what it's about. It had started off as something stupid and veered it's way towards ridiculous. She's lost track of their current disagreement but the sound of the two of them arguing over something inane and meaningless is almost comforting.

The three haven't had a true girl's night in ages. It's no one's fault - life just seems to get in the way when you wish it wouldn't. It's not like they haven't seen each other - they always see each other - but on most occasions the kid to parent ratio is significantly unbalanced (not in their favor), leaving little time for catching up.

The night has been long overdue and while they have all been extra busy - Annie had just gotten married after all - Beth can admit that maybe, possibly she's been putting this off.

She wants things with Rio to feel more settled. She wants to have answers to the questions that she knows the girls will ask. She wants to feel confident about what she tells them.

Communication between her and Rio has gotten better and they have spent some time with the other's respective children but - something still seems off. Beth just can't put her finger on what. It still sometimes feels like he's just out of her grasp - that he isn't entirely hers yet.

Maybe it's the lack of a label between them. She doesn't know what she is to him - assumes that if he's letting her spend time with his son that he must care about her but is she his girlfriend? Can she even imagine a day where she calls him her boyfriend? Those particular titles seem...silly.

She sighs, wondering if maybe they aren't actually communicating better if she still feels this lost.

"Let's play a game." Annie says, interrupting Beth's thoughts.

Beth glances in the direction of her sister and then over at Ruby - both curiously looking at her. They haven't asked about Rio yet - surprising to Beth in some ways but also not in other ways. It's part of the reason she’s finally insisted they get together. She's starting to get the impression that Ruby and Annie don't actually realize how serious things with Rio have become.

Just the other day, Ruby had casually mentioned something about doing a double date with Stan and one of his single police friends. Annie had also not so subtly hinted that Nick had an older cousin who was recently divorced and looking to get back out there.

They know she's been spending time with him, it's only been a few weeks since he’d dropped by when they'd been prepping for Annie's wedding, but she's starting to think that they aren't taking it seriously and decidedly she's the only one to blame for that.

"I'm not playing Truth or Dare." Beth says immediately, leaning forward from her position on the couch to pick up her wine glass.

Annie's mouth drops open and she has the decency to look offended. "I would not suggest such a childish activity, Beth."

Ruby snorts, sipping at her own glass of wine before looking pointedly at Annie. "No? What's different today than the last time we got together and you suggested it?"

Annie smirks and holds up her left hand, ring sparkling under the light. "I'm a married woman now."

Beth laughs but can't help the genuine smile that pulls at her lips. She's happy for her sister and it's clear as day that Annie is happy for herself. Maybe that's part of the reason Beth suddenly feels so ready to move forward with Rio. She doesn't have to worry about Annie the same way she has been for years now.

"What game did you have in mind then?" Beth asks, humoring her.

"It's a new game I made up." Annie says excitedly but Beth is hesitant to share her sister's enthusiasm when she clocks the gleam in her eyes. When Annie slyly looks over in Ruby's direction, Beth narrows her eyes.

"What kind of game?"

"The tentative name is called 'Interrogate Beth' but I'm open to other suggestions." Annie answers seriously not taking her eyes off of her sister for fear that she'll run out of the room or, worse, throw a drink in her face.

"Doesn't sound like much fun." Beth deadpans, attempting to push down her ever growing impatience.

"It is, though. It's sort of like 20 questions except we ask all of the questions and you answer them without complaining."

Beth glares but instead of shutting her sister down entirely she contemplates the benefits of the game. While it's ridiculous and has clearly been created with the intention of putting her on the spot - wasn't her whole hope for tonight to enlighten her friends on her life?

She looks to Ruby and raises her eyebrows. "You support this idea?"

Ruby purses her lips and side eyes her friend. She sits up straighter and nods. "I support anything that gets you to open up to us a little bit."

Annie claps and smiles seemingly surprised that her game idea has been so readily accepted. She runs with it though, not willing to give Beth the chance to back out. "Good. Settled. I'll start. Beth, how's work at the bakery?"

"How's work at the bakery?” Beth repeats, the tone of her voice dripping in annoyance.

"Yes." Annie answers and she's either ignoring her sister's frustration or clueless to it.

"That's what you're going with?" Beth asks, giving her sister the opportunity to maybe ask something slightly more - personal.

"We'll work our way up to the good stuff." Annie says, her face serious. Beth sighs once again but instead of fighting her sister she rolls with it because, let's be honest, that's typically the best way to deal with her.

"Work is fine."

Annie shakes her head and pushes her leg underneath her to give her more leverage on the couch. She wipes her hands over her jeans and speaks. "No. Sorry, new rule. You have to elaborate. No use of the words fine or good."

"You realize I want to murder you more times than not right?"

Annie raises her eyebrows but doesn't look entirely put off or surprised by Beth’s admission. "Mm. And leave Sadie motherless? Leave Nick a widow? Yeah, no. My game, my rules. Go."

Beth looks to Ruby for help or support or something but she holds up her hands and shakes her head as if she wants no part of this.

So Beth relents and answers Annie's question. "Work at the bakery is going really well. The hours work with the kids schedule and I'm even doing some mornings on the weekends I don't have them."

Annie smiles, content with her answer. "Speaking of the kids, how are the little devils?”

"You just saw them two days ago." Beth answers dryly, already exhausted by the questioning.

Annie throws her hands up in frustration and turns to Ruby. "Why don't you ask a question."

Ruby contemplates the request for a second before shifting her body to face Beth head on. With one look, Beth can tell that Ruby won't be wasting any time.

"Are you interested in going out with one of the officers Stan works with?"

Beth shakes her head and feels her cheeks brighten. "No - I -"

Annie let's out a yelp and bounces in her seat excitedly. Before Beth can continue or Ruby can ask a follow up she chimes in:

"Are you interested in a blind date with Nick's newly single cousin?”

"No -" Beth says and once again her sentence is cut off before she can finish.

"Are you still boinking gang friend on the regular?"

"Annie!" Beth shouts, and now her face is definitely burning up.

"Jesus." Ruby mumbles, dropping her head into her hands.

Beth jumps off the couch with no real intention of going anywhere but she needs to feel more in control than she does at the moment. Annie mimics her action, jumping out of her seat as well, prepared to go head to head with Beth if necessary.

"You're out of your mind." Beth points out, her voice as steady as it can be after being so worked up.

"Someone's gotta ask the tough questions." Annie says with a shrug.

Beth sits back down and makes a gesture for Annie to take the spot next to Ruby. She perches herself on the edge of the couch and folds her hands in her lap. Beth inhales and exhales, once and twice and then three times before she looks up at the two sets of eyes staring back at her.

"Jesus, are you pregnant?" Annie asks suddenly. She’s whispering and her eyes are wide.

Beth's mouth drops open. She doesn't know how her sister can continuously surprise her but just when she thinks she can't possibly make another imbecile comment -

"No! What?"

Annie has the decency to look slightly bashful but it's also clear she thinks the blame lies with Beth. "You just seem so...nervous."

Beth groans and then decides to steer the conversation in the direction that it needs to go. She knows better than to let Annie start up a game and she should have ended it before it even started.

"Rio and I are seeing each other."

She's not sure what she expects but it's not the glazed over look both women give her from where they sit.

Ruby speaks up first giving her friend a reassuring smile. "Girl, how about tell us something we don't know?"

It takes Beth a moment to speak but when she does, she's clearly confused. "If you know than why are you trying to set me up with single policemen and divorced cousins?"

They both shrug but it's Annie who chimes in first. "It was that or tap your phone line."

Ruby swats at the girl next to her and speaks up. "It's not easy to get anything out of you. We thought it might...encourage you to share."

Beth sighs, resigned, and falls back into the cushions of the couch. "There was nothing to tell for a while. We were just...casual."

Annie holds up a hand and speaks bluntly. "If by casual you mean sleeping together I have to disagree. There are lots of things I'd like you to tell us about that. The size of -"

"Oh my God." Ruby says burying her head into the pillow beside her.

"Shut up." Beth says with a glare, stopping her from finishing the sentence. "We were just sleeping together but now it's...more...it's -"

"Serious?" Ruby asks, finishing her sentence.

Beth flushes and looks down. "Yes."

All three are silent momentarily. Beth's desperate for them to say something but it's taken her months to be accepting of her relationship - imagine how the two of them must feel?

"I truly don't get it." Ruby says finally and Beth deflates at the words. She understands - she doesn't really expect them to get it but...

"I know. it's just -" Beth trails off not sure what to say. Not sure how to make sense of it for them. Not sure if she wants to.

"Explain it to us." Ruby says and she's pushier now and Beth knows it comes from a place of love, of worry, of concern but Beth isn't sure she wants to - or should have to - convince them to be accepting of her relationship.

"I'm not sure I can." Beth answers quietly and it's, for the most part, completely true. One fact she's reconciled is that a lot of the reasons why they work together don’t necessarily make sense on paper.

"What do you like about him?" Annie jumps in and Beth gives her sister a small smile because she's always been a good buffer between she and Ruby when things get tense.

She's thought about this before. Thought about the things she likes about him (and doesn't) and the things that make her want to be with him...always. She flushes when she thinks of the obvious. How good looking he is, how charming and sexy and appealing the whole outside package is to her - to anyone with a pulse really. Annie clocks her look and waves her hands in the air as if to stop Beth from speaking.

"You can't say his dick."

Beth is ready for the comment - she knows Annie better than anyone after all - so the pillow that gets thrown at her face is mid-air before the sentence is even finished.

"He respects me." Beth says determinedly and she sees Ruby's eyes widen and can almost hear the thoughts in her head. How can she say he respects her when he's held a gun to your head?

Beth continues before Ruby can formulate a response. "The bad stuff is in the past. He respects me. He listens to me. He...gets me."

"Gets you hot and bothered." Annie mutters, quickly covering her face for fear of having another object thrown at her.

"There's that too." Beth concedes because their attraction isn't everything but it's what got them here in the first place.

Before anyone can argue, Beth hears the door in the kitchen open and footsteps enter the house. She turns, knows it must be Rio, it couldn't be anyone else, but she didn’t anticipate seeing him tonight so she’s thrown for a loop.

Three pairs of eyes watch him enter the living room. He stops short when he sees them all sitting quietly, watching him, and gives a small wave.

"Hey." He greets quietly but he's looking directly at Beth.

"Hi." She says back with a small smile but a question in her eyes.

A head peeks out from behind him and Beth's smile widens at the sight of Marcus in front of her.

"Hi Miss Beth." Marcus says through a toothless grin.

"Hi Marcus." She says happily. She can feel eyes on her back but chooses to ignore them for now. Her eyes shoot back to Rio's but she isn't annoyed, just curious. "This is a surprise."

"I know." He starts, his voice apologetic. Marcus wraps his arms around his father's legs when he notices Annie and Ruby in the room and he shyly pushes his face into his thigh. "Pop, say hi to Miss Beth's sister and friend."

Marcus gives a quick wave and smile but nothing more. Annie and Ruby return the greeting and Beth thinks they might excuse themselves to give some privacy but - no. It’s not their style to miss out on the very thing they'd just been giving her a hard time about.

"Everything okay?" Beth asks, standing from her seat on the couch.

"Power went out at the loft." Rio answers. His eyes swing to the window and Beth follows his gaze. For the first time she notices the rain pouring down. She briefly recalls hearing about a bad storm coming through but had forgotten about it in her haste to prepare for the evening with her friends. "I called."

Beth glances around the room but doesn't see her phone. She gives Rio a shrug and small smile as if to say, "sorry." He knows she's terrible at keeping track of where her phone is at any given moment, especially when she's caught up with her friends.

"S'ok." He says. "Brought pizza. We'll be in the kitchen."

Rio nudges Marcus and Beth watches as the two walk back towards where they came from.

Beth turns slowly back towards the girls and smiles. "He's a really good dad."

When they look at her in confusion she elaborates.

"Add that to the list of things I like." She says and as if to further make her point: "I can keep going too."

"Beth," Ruby starts hesitantly but Beth doesn't let her finish her thought.

"I get your doubts. I do. But you've only ever seen him in work mode and you've only ever seen us together that way too."

”So...he's your... boyfriend?”Annie asks and Beth opens her mouth to respond when she hears him clear his throat behind her.

Her neck swings around and from the look on his face she knows he’s heard Annie’s question.

ARE YOU? Beth wants to scream but she smiles and waits for him to speak.

”Enough pizza if you’re interested.” He says pointing towards the kitchen, smirk still firmly in place.

Annie giggles loving every moment of the situation they’re in. Beth knows she’ll be the easiest to bring over to her side on this one. She’s certain that, in Annie’s mind, anyone is better for her than Dean.

Beth mouths a thank you and turns away assuming he’ll just leave but -

“Boyfriend sounds a little juvenile, no?” He says with a laugh before walking away and Beth wants to crawl into a hole and die but also...at least they’re on the same page.

She’s not sure why she doubted it to begin with. She’s a different person in this relationship with Rio than the person she was with Dean. She’s older and wiser, sure, but - it’s him that makes her different.

Makes her better, she’s starting to think.

So she’ll attempt not to rush anything, attempt to figure things out as they go. She looks up at Annie and Ruby who both seem interested in the idea of pizza and thinks all they need is time too.

#beth x rio #nbc good girls #brio fic #prompts #vuccijl #my fic

41 notes · View notes

grandmalavi · 5 years

Text

Moondance, a Marquillo/Serquel fanfiction. My first time writting about these two, so I hope it it isn't too cringy nor extremely OOC. Enjoy! :)

“MOONDANCE”

Raquel found Sergio outside, seating by the beach, bare chested and barefoot underneath the moonlight. Staring at the crashing of the waves, it seemed as if the ocean held all answers to the overthinking going on inside that brilliant mind of his.

He'd sneaked out little after dinner, when she'd been too enthralled in a conversation with Ailyn, the kind Filipina woman he'd hired to help with them with house chores, to properly notice his escape. Once she'd noticed his absence, though, Raquel immediately knew where he'd go— in this pacific island of theirs, there weren't many places to run off to, after all.

She'd left her mother to continue chatting with Ailyn from where she knit by the kitchen table, calm and chatty as the woman rarely was these days. They discovered the sound of one of Sergio's old classic records would have a surprisingly soothing effect over Marivi, and it now played softly at the background as Raquel left the room, travelling upstairs to found Paula already tucked in bed. The little girl flipped curiously through the pages of one of the books Sergio had purchased for her birthday, a month ago, and once her mother sat by her side, Paula filled her ears with excited babble over Harry Potter's newest adventures until finally being convinced into turning the lights off and going to sleep. Smiling at her small form underneath the sheets, Raquel had left a crack of her daughter's door open, so that she'd have that little bit of light coming inside the room the way experience taught her it'd make her feel safer, although the talk around bedtime these days was that nine was too grown up to be afraid of silly monsters anymore.

Then, and only then, Raquel went out in search of the complex, annoyingly withdrawn man she turned out to love— supposing she'd given him the time alone he seemed to need to think, by then.

Their living room double doors opened to a breathtaking view of the ocean, and in specially hot days they'd taken a habit off setting in the comfortable net outside and watching as Paula ran around in the sand with her new Palawan friends. She and Sergio would talk about nothing and everything, swinging pleasantly in the arms of one another while exchanging the silliest smiles, between caresses and kisses that'd leave them both needing and turned on, although much too comfortable with just snuggling innocently in the breeze to move inside and do something about it, at the same time. Their touching would be torturing, but of the best, slow-burning and arousing sort of kind— leaving both flustered and breathless afterwards, often clinging onto one another like high schoolers until the time they'd be alone again would come.

This night, Raquel stood by the doorway while bracing herself against the chilling ocean breeze coming in, her eyes wandering briefly until she found Sergio's familiar form, his slean shoulders bared outside in the cold, although he remained unflinching in face of the waves constantly licking his legs. Feeling a wave of sadness wash over her at how lonely he seemed, she sighed, and without further hesitation started making her way toward him.

Her feet dug into the cool sand, goosebumps lifting all over her arms once she reached the spot where he sat, pushing her wavering hair out of her eyes to stare down at him. Cross-legged, Sergio had his elbows over his knees, not only his jeans soaked by the come and go of the ocean but all the rest of himself, as well. With water drops still glimmering in his skin and his hair damp, glued to his neck, it was clear he went for a night time swim in the freezing cold waters ahead— and, judging by his t-shirt thrown soaked in the sand by his side, not so long ago.

He was clearly freezing, the muscles of his back coiled and tensed, making something ferocious inside Raquel rise, wanting nothing but to wrap herself around him and handle him all the warmth she had. Even so, she held back, finding a fragility in his posture that told her he might recoil, in case she'd do so. And even though her approach hadn't been silent, at all, Sergio didn't seem to notice her presence there until she came to sit by his side, crossed legs underneath her summer dress to mimic his own, her knee coming to brush slightly at his.

At her touch, Sergio straightened suddenly as if struck by electricity, his eyes raising to her face as hers lowered, to find the whiskey glass half filled with wine he cradled between his hands.

He'd rarely drink, unless if to make her company, and something about the fact he found more comfort at the bottom of a glass tonight made her feel all sorts of angry and sad. But looking inside his eyes, stripped off his glasses for the obvious risk of losing them underwater, Raquel found how unsurprisingly sober he was, for despite knowing how this meticulous man she came to know could oddly turn unpredictable sometimes, she also knew he'd never be reckless to the point of entering the ocean drunk off his ass.

No, this… this sounded more like something she'd do, being definitely the impulsive one out of both. The thought made Raquel smile at him, soft and a little bittersweet, wishing deep down she'd muster just enough reasoning to help him cope with whatever bothered him today, exactly the way she knew he'd do for her anytime her feelings made her go a little nuts.

“I really made you a rebel with this swimming in your clothes thing, huh?” she murmurs, tilting her head to the ocean with her smile widening, teasingly “I mean, it's a little late to be freezing my butt out there, but you could've called me to join, no? I can be a little rebel too…”

“Just a little, yes, Inspectora?” Sergio's eyes crinkled as he smiled, shortly and awkwardly, his head ducking at his lap to avoid eye contact “I, well, I wasn't exactly planning on doing it, until… until I-I sort of… Was already there, water on my waist.” he gestured nervously, his hand making as if to push the glasses that weren't there back to the top of his nose “I, you see, I-I had a couple more of these before,” he lifts his glass, swirling the wine “and then I suppose the alcohol must've made me think I wanted to get rid of something very badly, for I threw it at the waves. But as soon as I saw it floating away I regretted it, and let's just say I had to dive in and fish it back on myself…” he shook his head, shyly, looking at her through his lashes with a shrug and a self-deprecating smirk “Not my finest moment, so I'm glad you weren't here to see me destroying the beauty of fully-clothed swimming so pathetically, indeed.”

Raquel's smile faded as he spoke. Frowning, not liking the look in his eyes, she forgot the space she intended on giving him and reached to grab hold of one of his hands in hers, bringing it to her lap. Immediately she realized her instinct to be right, for Sergio's cold fingers squeezed hers quite frantically, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, sort of leaning forward towards her, his eyes sparkling in the reflection the moon provided on the waves.

Oh, my love.

“Sergio, did you get rid of Andrés' watch?”

His features twitched, a grimace of shame, and he nodded “Tried.” his voice was a whisper, that he drowned inside his glass in a nervous gulp of wine. Then, he shook his head, wiping clumsily a drop of water that slid from somewhere around the bridge of his nose, then down his cheek “I-I, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking, Raquel. What damn good would've come out of getting rid of the only thing my brother has left me…” he sighed, tremulously, scoffing at himself “My father's watch, Raquel. This old contraption he had restored for me because I'd refuse putting it aside in twenty years, all of it so that I'd have it in time before the heist… so that I'd have 'a second to remind our reasons' on me, he said.” Sergio's whole face scrunched, as if some sort of physical pain cut him from the inside “Same damn thing Dad told me the day he left to die, leaving me this watch so I'd have a piece of him, and since then it's become… It's become this piece of Andrés and that bastard smile of his as well, Raquel, and now it won't probably even work anymore…” he closes his eyes shut, trembling “I-I'm such an idiot-”

“Hey.” Raquel scooted closer to him, passing her arms through his, her chin propped on his shoulder as she tilted her head backwards to meet his eyes “Only I can call my boyfriend that, you hear me?” sighing, she asked softly “Where is it?”

“Over my shirt.” Sergio nodded towards it, and Raquel turned to reach for it. Turning the simple, delicate watch she'd only seen him take off to sleep over in her hands, Raquel saw how he'd attempt to dried it, although droplets of water had inevitably leaked inside it as she tapped its glass, its hands remaining frozen, still marking the same time from about an hour ago. The engraved quote “a second to remind your reasons” shone as she ran her thumb softly over the back of it.

“We'll ask Aylin if she knows any watchmaker in the village to take a look at it later.” she tells him, turning his hand over to set the watch firmly around his wrist, back where it belonged, planting a soft kiss to his palm before resting their joined hands back over her thigh again “But even if it can't be fixed, it doesn't matter.” she entwined their fingers, squeezed his hand “I'm sure your brother wouldn't care, for he gave it to you so that you'd keep on you as a reminder of himself and your father, not as just one more gift. What matters, carinõ, is that it's become important enough for you to make you dive into the ocean at night just to retrieve it back.”

Leaning her cheek to his arm while watching him mull over her words, she felt how cold and damp his skin felt, how he'd punished himself by seating there and letting shivers consume his exposed chest until now.

“Berlim was…” Sergio shook his head, his voice cracking “Sometimes reminding him is… difficult, complicated. I kept… looking at it, today, over and over, and, I-I don't know, Raquel…” he gulped, turning the watch anxiously around his wrist “ It was hard not to replay his death over and over, I suppose, just at the sight of this. It felt simply so… revolting, unfair. Then next thing I new, I'd already launched it at the waves. And at first… at first it made me feel so damn relieved you wouldn't believe it, Raquel. So, so much.” his tone was raspy, strangled, and he squeezed her hand so firmly it hurt “Until I realised, realised… I couldn't. Shouldn't. Immediately, it was as if this stone-shaped weight settled inside me, heavying me all over, a hundred pounds over my shoulders. It made me regret, then go after after it like the moron I am, so fucking ashamed and hoping I could somehow grasp his memory back-”

“Shhhh.” Her heart ached as she attempted a smile at him, rubbing his arm up and down in attempts of lending him a little of her warmth, at least. Feeling her own eyes filling at the sight of Sergio's shining ones, Raquel cradled his face in her hands, blinking her own tears away “You don't have to feel ashamed, you hear me? It's okay for you not to want to suffer nor carry willingly reminders of your losses around, Sergio. Means you're human. Means it's normal for you to want to run away from bad, painful memories, sometimes. It's perfectly okay…”

Sergio rested his forehead to hers, eyes closed, pulling Raquel to his chest as a tremulous gasp escaped his lips. She tried to keep her eyes open and watching him, but it was proven impossible as Sergio nuzzled his nose to hers, lips brushing softly against her cheek before he buried his face into the space between her neck and shoulder, releasing what it seemed to be a lifetime held breath, warm and heartfelt, against her skin.

Her eyes drifting closed, Raquel hugged him back and let him drown his sorrow inside her arms.

Very soon this morning, soon as the sun peeked at the horizon, she'd woken up suddenly and for no apparent reason to find herself alone in their bed. Missing the usual feel of Sergio's arms wrapped around herself, she'd sat and turned around to see where he'd went, finding his familiar form observing the sunrise by himself at the beach outside. Knowing the occurrence of his nightmares and troubled sleep the past few days very well by then, for she was the one to comfort him and witness him toss and turn, calling out his brother's name in the night, Raquel assumed he needed to clear his head off but didn't want to wake her up.

Nevertheless, she went after him. And wrapped her arms around him from behind as soon as she was close enough, hands sliding to his chest as she glued herself against his back, being able to feel the deep intake of air he took as soon he felt her touch. She'd earned herself a weak smile, Sergio's larger hands finding and grasping hers thankfully as she hugged him tighter, wishing to able to send all his troubles away with something as simple as her presence, alone. Together they stood, until sun rays colored the sand by their bare feet, orange glowing and outlining their joined bodies in soft warmth.

And then Raquel pulled him back towards the house, Sergio following willingly, wrapping himself all around her in return. Soon they no longer walked, but stumbled upon their unmade bed, falling over the mattress together amidst Sergio's pouring ticklish kisses all over her neck and shoulders and Raquel's breathless, relieved laughing out loud.

Their lovemaking was rushed and intense, a frantic ripping of clothes and ablazing hands exploring exposed skin, until Sergio's hips furiously met hers, coaxing shared gasps of relief out of both. Raquel's pent up desire for his touch made her dig scratches with her nails into his back, such was her pleasure, coaxing him into moving, harder, faster, deepest as possible within every thrust inside her until they both reached a sudden, toe-curling climax almost at the same time. Collapsing above her, Sergio's arms enclosured Raquel in a warm cage in which she immediately melted, his lips pressed against the pulsing hollow of her throat as they both struggled to catch their breath. She smiled in contentment, although briefly, once she noticed how tense and still he rested inside her embrace, silent even as she drew lazy shapes over his back with her fingertips, trying to get some actual words out of his mouth to express what had tormented him so much during the night.

Then, finally, as she felt moisture where his cheek had come to rest right above her heart, Sergio breathed his confession in a harsh whisper “He'd been forty-six today.”

And without further words needed, with her heart sinking, Raquel understood. It torn her how little there was she could actually do for him, but to hug him and feel his pain and let him hold onto her, caressing his hair as his silent tears slid between her breasts.

She'd never got to meet Andrés, besides for that brief and mostly unpleasant encounter with him as Berlim back at the heist, but that morning she and Sergio both fell asleep feeling deeply for his loss at heart.

When she'd woken up again, was to the strong smell of Sergio's cologne filling her senses, once during their sleep he apparently had turned on his side and crushed her to himself at some point, entangling his limbs around her in a death grip. Raquel's face glued to his neck, for she honestly felt hotter within the second against his warm body, but soon she found out she didn't bother much, when it was clear by his slow heartbeats Sergio felt deeply comforted and at peace in their sweaty embrace. She was, in fact, just starting to doze off again, lulled by the sound of his regular breathing, when he released her a bit, clearly awake, to cradle her face in his hands and place a lingering kiss on her lips.

“Good morning.” he'd said, smiling, and with that Raquel thought— wanted to believe— his troubled thoughts had ceased tormenting him, at least for today.

And true to his best abilities of putting up a facade, Sergio managed to convince her pretty well with another kiss and the promise of having breakfast ready for her downstairs, before he'd retrieve his glasses by the nightstand and left her hugging a pillow in lieu of his body, to disappear inside their bathroom displaying a relaxed smile on his face. Through the rest of the day, he never mentioned his brother nor the sorrow he'd expressed freely in her arms that morning again.

Raquel never approached the subject either, knowing that Sergio was bound to shyness and embarrassment if pushed into expressing himself prematurely, especially when the control freak inside him reacted so poorly upon having his emotions on check. And so she went along with his good humor and set about watching him closely, instead.

She laughed along Aylin and her mother's silly conversation topics at the breakfast table while accepting the coffee mug he handled her with a quick peck on the lips, watching him with the same moved gratitude of every day as he walked around her chair to deliver Paula's plate first, a smile opening on his face as the little girl approved soundly of her chocolate chips and bunny-shaped pancakes made out of scratch. Raquel even sneaked by the old piano Sergio had pushed against a corner in their living room, later, leaning onto the instrument in silent awe to observe him coaxing her daughter's enthusiasm into actually sitting and learning a few clumsy notes under his patient guidance. Unsurprisingly, she'd almost embarrassed herself by actually tearing up once Paula eagerly started playing the song they've been practicing for about two months now, Sergio's encouraging murmurs making her little girl smile proudly, seemingly suddenly so attentively and mature Raquel wanted nothing but to hug her tightly and never let her grow up.

But, above all, Raquel felt as if she could actually weep if any of them lifted their eyes from the keys long enough to acknowledge her presence there. Because family was the only word she could think of to describe Sergio's hand on Paula's shoulder and the little girl's clear admirance upon him every time he'd smile approvingly when she'd hit the right notes— the two halves of her heart, merging together into actually loving and caring for each other right there before her eyes.

Not for the first time since she'd brought her family to live in Palawan, Raquel felt deeply thankful for Sergio's willingness into making them a part of his life as well. He was such a different man here amongst them, and little by little she saw how he'd started to reveal new sides of his personality just by interacting with them. He no longer was the Professor nor Salva to her, but Sergio instead, a junction of both personalities into this man worth so much more Raquel could see both her daughter and mother starting to discover— and falling in love— for his true self as well.

Right now, being hugged and hugging him equally fiercely back, Raquel wished their newfound love could be enough balsam to relieve the lost of his loved ones somehow. Almost as if sensing her worry, she felt Sergio's chest expand against hers as he sighed very deeply, cupping the back of her head with both hands before finally releasing her, pulling back. She found pain still there in his face, but his eyes were clear once again, albeit intense, his attention solely focused on her in a way that made Raquel's stomach flutter in unexpected butterflies.

“We should get back inside.” he whispered, his features softer, tender, his hands moving to rub her upper arms “You're starting to freeze.”

"You are the only one freezing here, Professor.” deciding they've loathed over sadness enough for today already, Raquel opened a mischievous smirk at him. Smitten, she stole his glass of wine for herself and tossed her head back, emptying it in two gulps. Licking her lips, she left it behind on the sand, very much enjoying the way Sergio's pupils dilated as he watched her, amused.

“I've learned a long time ago that the best way to warm up is being creative.” she said, then leaned in for a kiss Sergio returned so hungrily she moaned against his mouth, coaxing a frustrated groan out of him as soon as she pulled back, smiling, and giggling got to her feet “You can get your old man's ass back inside later, 'cause right now you owe me a dance, Marquina.” she offered him her hands “Moondance is still my top ten Van Morrison favorite, so if you could, you know, get yourself moving while the moon is still out, that'd be great.”

“They'll have to get this engraved on my tombstone.” Sergio shook his head, smiling “Dead by Raquel Murillo's hands. Poor man couldn't say no, they'll say.”

And he grabbed her hands, stood up, resting his own hands around her waist to nuzzle her neck, feeling finally brought out of his own head there against her, happy and alive.

“Funny. Last night it seemed I was handling you just fine, no?” Raquel whispered by his ear, putting her arms around his neck.

Sergio laughed into her hair “Oh, you've got low tactics, Inspectora. Very low.”

“Anything's fair in love and negotiation, Professor. I didn't invent that.”

“Wrong quote. Great point, though.” he whispered, then nibbled her ear, chuckling when she gasped and pushed her hips automatically against his.

“W-Why aren't we moving?” Raquel stuttered, actually a bit flushed “Dancing and standing aren't the same thing, you know.”

“Oh, I do.” Sergio took one of her hands in his, pulled her closer and pushed back to beam a smug smirk at her “I told you before I never enjoyed dancing, but I did grow up with Andrés by my side, you know. He'd coax me into waltzing him more times than I'd like to admit, and I'll let you know I happened to get very good at it, Murillo.”

He winked at her and started swaying on his feet, gently guiding her along. Unable to stop herself, Raquel smiled wide, gasping and laughing in delight as Sergio unexpectedly spun her around, bringing her breathlessly back to his chest with a laugh of his own.

“You're not so bad, I admit it.” she breathed against his ear, heartbeats happily pounding, her chin over his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. Closing her eyes, she wished they could spend the whole night like this, blissful and lost in their own world.

“Well, I was taught well.” Sergio spun them in lazy circles, putting her messy hair behind her ear “My brother would come back from the dead just to wack me on the head if I'd embarrass myself in front of a pretty girl like you, Inspectora.”

“Pretty girl, huh?”

“Yes, very pretty. Hot, too. Naughty. And oh, so horny sometimes…”

She slapped him playfully on the chest.

“That's a good comment to reflect about on the couch, you know.”

“You think? 'Cause I think some punishing sex would teach me a better lesson-”

She silenced him with a kiss, one that escalated very quickly, up until they stopped swaying to devour each other's mouths, breathing loudly and eating one another's moans, the freezing ocean breeze ignored around them once hands caressed and burned every bit of exposed skin there was to be touched. Sergio was almost lifting off her feet when Raquel pulled back, breathlessly, resisting the need to wrap her legs around his waist.

“Let's get back inside.”

“But I thought you wanted a dance first.” Sergio murmured, showering her jaw line in languid kisses “I was starting to feel rather fond of this new dancing style, to be honest…”

“Sergio.” Raquel protested, faintly and barely audible as her eyes tended to roll every time his mouth touched her skin “Carinõ, I'd love to, but if we keep dancing with your hands wandering in this pace, soon enough both Ailyn and my mother will be able to spot my bare ass from all the way inside the house.” she wrinkled her nose, reminding a few near-misses in her teenage days “And trust me, she wouldn't let us hear the end of it anytime soon…”

“Alright, alright. Back inside.” Sergio sighed, releasing her to gather his shirt from where he'd left it in the sand and hurry back to her side so fast Raquel giggled, before he grabbed her hand and pulled them to the house “Let's go. Don't stop or make eye contact, or else they'll make questions!”

His seriousness made her laugh harder as they entered the house, Sergio pulling her behind himself like a man on a mission. They crossed the living room and went for the stairs like teenagers on a secret relationship, sneaking into the bedroom instead of out of it, while hoping the women inside the kitchen wouldn't catch them on sight. Her mother's sharp instincts, however, were not to be underestimated, and soon they heard her shout:

“Don't forget to dry yourselves, otherwise you'll catch a cold!”

Laughing at Sergio's deer on the highlights looks, Raquel called back “Don't worry, Mamá!”

As she heard Marivi's and Aylin's amused laughter downstairs, Raquel guided a flustered Sergio towards their room, thinking a cold wouldn't be a price so high to pay for all she could've expected from a dance under the moonlight with the man she loved, and more.

#marquillo #sergio marquina #raquel murillo #sergio x raquel #my fic #lcdp 3 #serquel #marquillo/serquel fanfiction #angst/sort of ??

82 notes · View notes

yukiwrites · 5 years

Text

In Search of a Present

For CorrianderWeek, Day 1: The Perfect Present and Day 2: Family Time Combining Days 1 and 2 cause I’ll post the sequel to this tomorrow!

Part 1 - Part 2

______________________________

The cold season had started enveloping Nohr like a chilly blanket -- the Dark Kingdom was always cold due to its location, but it turned especially frosty once it was that time of the year.

Nevertheless, despite the cold outside the thick walls of the castle, a young princess ran through the large corridors, her breath puffing in front of her face as she turned left and right, the layout of the castle ingrained into her memory.

"Mama!" Katerina knocked on Kamui's study with her personal set of knocks, banging the door open without waiting for permission. "Mama! Is there a birthday? A birthday!" The little girl hopped inside, her short, wavy hair bouncing beside her cheeks.

Giggling, the Queen pushed her chair back, inviting her youngest over. "Did you hear that the preparations are starting from the maids?"

"Mhm!" The princess jumped on her mother's lap, her eager expression making Kamui suppress a snicker. So cute! "Is it Katie's? Katie loves parties and presents!"

"Hah! I bet you do," Kamui booped Katie's nose, adjusting the little girl over legs lest she fell. "It's Papa's birthday, silly! Don't you remember we have it every year just when it's starting to get reaaal cold?"

"Oh yeah, Papa's!" She bounced on her knees, almost hurting Kamui's thighs in her excitement. "Is it now? Can I give Papa 'happy birthday'?!"

"No, no, Katie; it's not now." Kamui placed a tuft of hair behind her daughter's pointy ear, once again adjusting her legs now to wrap them around her own waist. "It's still a few weeks from now... Since it's the King's birthday, everyone is going to be really busy preparing a big party. You remember last year's, don't you?"

Katerina kicked her legs in excitement, digging her face into Kamui's chest. "Mhm! It was so much fun! So much food! And dance!"

"My little baby." Kamui showered Katerina with kisses, being welcomed with a loud laugh and scrambled hugs. "You arrived at a perfect time, did you know?"

"Really?! What's Mama gonna do now?"

"Mhm, really! Just when I was thinking about what to give Papa for his birthday... Will you help me, Katie? Mama wants to give Papa something great!"

The little girl's eyes sparkled, her puffy cheeks reddening in excitement. "Yup! Katie helps Mama! Let's, let's go, Mama!" She tried to disentangle herself from the confusion of legs and arms over her Mother's embrace, ultimately being placed on the floor by Kamui herself. She then took the Queen's hand and started pulling. "We'll find Papa the best present ever!"

"O-oh?" Kamui laughed, allowing herself to be dragged by her daughter. "Where are we going?"

"To my room! Katie has a lot of stuff, I'm sure we can find Papa something great!"

Kamui gasped in mock surprise, taking one hand to her chest. "You're going to give Papa something of yours? What a good girl, Katie!"

"But it's gonna be my present to Papa, so Mama has to give something else, too! Papa's gotta get lots of presents! And then... and then... heehee," she suddenly got bashful by the time they arrived at the door, her tiny hands hiding the huge grin on her face. "Papa will pat my head and smile... Katie loves when Papa smiles!"

Kamui felt a pang of cuteness crunch her heart, to which she reacted by crouching dramatically. "Uhhh... my daughter is so cute!" She whispered to herself as she once again wrapped both arms around the little girl, drowning her with kisses. "I also love when Papa pats my head, Katie... It's the best, isn't it?"

"Mhm!" Katerina returned the kisses just as enthusiastically, her tiny body and heart thumping with excitement. She wanted it to be Papa's birthday already!

Queen and Princess strolled around the castle under the little girl's whim -- first they went to her room, though once she started making a mess, Kamui sneakily suggested that they observed Xander for a bit to see what he would need instead of mindlessly looking around, bait of which Katerina bit marvelously. Then, they went to the King's study only to find that its owner wasn't present.

Instead, the one that was studying there was the Crown Prince, Siegbert.

"Bibig bro!" Katerina ran up to her elder brother, asking for upsies so she could sit on his lap.

"Katerina, and Mother as well!" He meant to get up to bow to the Queen, but the little girl over his lap made it difficult.

Seeing that tiny struggle, Kamui simply walked over to her son, patting his head. "It's okay, Sieggy; no need for formalities when it's just us." She held her hair behind her ear as she bent down to place a kiss on her son's forehead, missing the shy, childish smile he suppressed.

Blushing but not wanting to be seen as a child, -- he was fourteen years old already! -- Siegbert quickly cleared his throat. "I-is there something I can help you with, Mother? And you as well, Katie?"

The little girl looked at both sides to make sure that no one else was listening, placing a conspicuous hand over her lips so as to tell the ultimate secret. "Mama and Katie are looking for a present for Papa! Shhh, don't tell anyone!"

Siegbert snorted, though quickly straightened himself. "O-oh? I see! That's, um, marvelous? Is there anything I can help with?"

Katerina blinked in confusion. "Bibig bro isn't giving Papa a present?"

The Crown Prince nervously glanced from his little sister to his mother, his eager heart feeling pressured. "Um, I do have a... well, concept. I have been taking smithing classes lately and-"

Kamui crouched beside her son's chair to listen, resting her chin over her hand, a warm smile painted across her face.

Seeing his mother's silent support and under his sister's eager eyes, Siegbert felt oddly pumped about his idea. "And, well, I've been thinking," he turned to the papers over his desk, unearthing one from under a large pile, "of making a miniature Siegfried. Here." He flashed the detailed plan to Kamui, who accepted the paper with a nod.

"You really thought this through, didn't you, Sieggy?" Kamui said proudly, getting up on her feet so she could pat her son's head. "I'm so proud of you, my darling. I'm absolutely sure your father will be delighted to receive such a thoughtful present filled with all of your hard work."

Once again did the Crown Prince blush, though this time he was unable to hide it, the proud grin he tried his best to suppress leaking out at the corners of his lips. "Y-you really think so, Mother? If you truly say so, then I'm confident it's a good present... Hopefully I'll be able to pull it off with my current skill."

Still caressing her son's head, Kamui slid her hand down to his rosy cheek, pinching it slightly. "Skill isn't what's at play here, dear." She booped his nose once he shot his face up after the pinch. "Don't burn yourself up by trying to many things at once, okay? We're all here to help you grow, little by little."

"T-thank you, Mother-"

"Can I see it? Can I?" Katie raised both arms as she tried to peek at the paper Kamui held, unable to leave Siegbert's strong grip -- he was always afraid to drop her, see, so whenever she was up on his lap, he'd hold onto her for his dear life.

Kamui exchanged glances with Siegbert before turning to Katerina. "You need to ask Bibig Brother first, hm? It's his."

Instantly did the little girl turn to her brother, bouncing on his legs. "Can I, Bibig Bro?" She flashed the best puppy eyes she had in her repertoire, though all of which Siegbert was weak to. He could never say no to her.

"Of-of course, Katie. Here you are," he gracefully accepted defeat, respectfully accepting the paper back from Kamui only to hand it to his little sister.

"It's a sword! It's- it's Papa's sword! Are you gonna make it, Bibig Bro? Is it gonna be big?" She gasped loudly, looking from the drawings to her brother.

"Well, it's going to be small -- the size of a knife." He placed both hands just rightly apart to mimic the size he had planned, which only made Katerina's eyes gleam more.

"Tiny! Mama, it's so tiny! Katie wants to see it! Where is it?" She threw her hands up in glee, making Siegbert worry about his paper only to find it gone from her hands.

Kamui winked at her oldest son, as she safeguarded the paper on her breast. Sighing with relief, the Crown Prince turned to his youngest sister. "I'm afraid it's not ready yet, Katie... But it will be, soon. Do you want to be the first one to see it?"

"Yes!!" She threw herself into her brother's arms. "I can't wait, Bibig Bro!"

"But you must keep it a secret from Papa, hmm?" Kamui made a shushing gesture, prompting the little girl to loudly slap both hands over her mouth.

"Sheekret!" Her voice sounded muffled from the force she used to tie both lips together.

Laughing, Kamui patted Katerina's head. "Good girl. Now let's look around before Papa comes back, hm? Your brother already knows what he'll give Papa, but the both of don't, huh?" She mocked a pout, rekindling the fire within the little girl.

"Yeah! We'll give Papa lots of presents!" She raised both arms, asking for upsies out of Siegbert's lap, to which Kamui complied after returning the dagger's plans to him.

"Now, I wonder where we could look-" Before the Queen could even wonder aloud, a set of very familiar steps sounded close to the door moments before it opened to reveal none other than her husband, King Xander.

"Oh, what an unexpectedly pleasant visit." He said in a soft tone as soon as his eyes met his wife and youngest child's.

"Papa!" Katerina kicked her legs and arms, wanting to be held by her father. Weak to his little girl, Xander complied with pleasure, taking her into his arms.

Kamui smiled softly as she handed the little princess to Xander, brushing her hands in his in the process. They exchanged warm glances, their smiles mirroring one another.

"What do I owe the pleasure?" He adjusted Katerina in his arms, looking from his wife to the scrambling Crown Prince who got up in a hurry to bow for his Father.

Barely were the words out of his mouth, Katerina slapped both hands over her mouth once again, giggling as she hid her face into Xander's shoulder. "Heehee!" She trembled with mirth, utterly convinced she didn't look suspicious at all.

Xander narrowed his eyes to his wife, who conveniently looked up at a very interesting spot at the ceiling. "Kamui..."

"My, would you look at the time?" She gasped in fake surprise, looking at the invisible pocket watch she had in her pocket-less dress. "Katie, I think we've disrupted your brother's studying enough, didn't we?" She patted the little girl's back under her husband's doubtful eyes. His eyes still narrow, he looked at Siegbert, who flinched and immediately looked down in guilt, not wanting to give his back to his Father to pretend to study, though not knowing what else to do to effectively hide something.

Katerina gurgled a laugh, though did her best to suppress it. "M-mhm!" She leaned back, towards her Mother's hands, allowing Kamui to pry her out of Xander's embrace.

Saying nothing, the King simply observed as the suspicious actions played out. He sighed at the end, pressing his lips into a thin line lest he, too, smiled. Kamui truly passed on her 'terrible at keeping secrets' genes to their children, didn't she?

Xander shook his head, approaching his wife to place a kiss on her forehead to bid her farewell, noticing how Katerina dug deep into Kamui's chest to avoid eye contact. The reason for all that secrecy was obvious, of course, so it didn't bother Xander much -- if it were related to his duties, that would be another story.

But an adorable reunion to discuss what to give him for his birthday? The failed attempt at hiding itself already brought warmth to his heart.

That still wouldn't stop him from trying to... bribe the reason out of his wife once they were on their own, however.

Kamui knew her husband -- she also knew how well he knew her and their children; so the whole secret keeping was mostly to indulge Katerina and Siegbert in their own endeavors. She smiled after Xander stepped away to give her space to reach the door, raising an eyebrow with a somewhat cheeky smirk over her lips. THAT made the King narrow his eyes once again, unable to discern the underlying reason.

Studying his wife's expressions, Xander watched how she glanced at Siegbert and something beside him before reaching for the door. A hurried shuffling sound instantly followed behind Xander, making the King turn his attention to it while still observing his wife leave.

"See you!" Kamui said chipperly as she closed the door behind her, stealing a smile out of her husband's lips. Being married to her was a new wonder each day -- their oldest son was fourteen years old and Kamui still managed to intrigued Xander to that day.

Truly, he could never get enough of her.

At the day's end, King and Queen were only man and wife once enclosed to their quarters -- a fact Xander reminded Kamui every night, might he add.

Amidst one of their countless kisses, Xander held both of Kamui's hands over her head, trapping her under him. "Nowhere to run now, my Queen." He said in a hoarse voice, making Kamui bite her lower lip in anticipation.

"Whatever do you mean?" She played coy, adorably tilting her head to the side, exposing her bare neck. Noticing how she tried to entice him to run away from talking, though still taking the bait of succumbing to her creamy skin, Xander bit and sucked her neck, intent on leaving a mark. "A-ah, X-Xander, you're going to--"

"If I cannot make you speak under normal circumstances, it seems that my only choice is to pry it out of you by force." He trailed his kisses from her neck to her jaw, then to her pointy ear.

"I-I would like that." She confessed, breathing heavily. "I would like that very much."

"Oh, I know you would." He smirked, taking her lips once more.

There were three weeks until his birthday. Three pleasantly long weeks which Xander would take his sweet time in persuading his wife to tell him about her plans for the big day.

He would like that. Oh, how he would.

#corriander #kamarx #corrianderweek2019 #xander fire emblem #corrin fire emblem #kamui #xander #my writings #katerina #siegbert

11 notes · View notes

cs0127 · 5 years

Text

A detailed review of the OnePlus 7T from :wired:

I TEST A lot of phones here at WIRED. Smartphones incrementally change each year, and they’ve become more of an essential utility and less of a source of the tech world’s greatest innovations. I often appreciate their new features, but few of those enhancements spark actual joy. The OnePlus 7T, however, has done just that. Putting down the glossy, fingerprint-plastered Galaxy Note10 to review the matte glass 7T was both a relief and a reminder why OnePlus has continued to gain popularity as a smartphone brand year after year.

Like the company's previous devices, the 7T is a phone that showcases much of the best smartphone tech introduced in 2019 at a $600 price—more than $100 cheaper than many top rivals from Samsung, LG, and other manufacturers. What I’ve come to appreciate more is how it uses all that latest tech to enhance my life, often by getting out of my way. Its touch interface is simple and looks just like the brand new Google Android 10 OS it runs on, only a little easier to navigate. It’s just more pleasant, like a PB&J sandwich where mom cut the crust off just because she loves you.

Smooth and Frosty

If you’ve seen an expensive smartphone in the last two years, you know what the 7T looks and feels like, but I’ll describe it anyway. It has a 6.5-inch AMOLED display (that means deeper blacks and richer colors) that takes up its entire front. A teenie teardrop cutout hanging from the top of the screen holds a 16-megapixel selfie camera.

Like the similar and more expensive OnePlus 7 Pro, this display has a 90 Hz refresh rate, which makes the entire interface noticeably smoother. OnePlus calls it a Fluid AMOLED display, and it may live up to that name. Phones have been bumping up the resolution (this one has a 1080p HD screen), but the bump in refresh rate is more noticeable. Everything feels smoother and faster, with richer color than many displays.

The power and volume buttons are in all the right places, and OnePlus has kept its sound/mute/vibrate switch on the right side. It’s a dead-simple little toggle and worth every millimeter of its cutout, letting you easily silence your phone or perk it up anytime.

OnePlus was one of the first companies to introduce an in-display fingerprint sensor, and the latest iteration on this phone is faster than ever. I’ve had trouble with Samsung's on-screen sensors in the Galaxy S10 and Note10, but the optical fingerprint reader in the 7T does the trick in a way that’s more convenient than the fingerprint sensors on the back of many phones like the Google Pixel 3A.

The phone's frame is metal, and the back is covered in shimmering Gorilla Glass because ... well ... trends. It’s silly that the back is made of glass at all, given that we probably drop our phones more than anything besides our keys, and there's no big advantage to the glass here since the 7T doesn’t have wireless charging. But the “glacier blue” color certainly is sleek, and the frosted texture repels fingerprints better than some phones. OnePlus thankfully includes a clear case in the box. I suggest you slip it on.

All Spec’d Out

Between all that glass is a list of luxury technical specs. The 7T runs on a Qualcomm Snapdragon 855+ processor, which is half a tad speedier than the 855 on some earlier phones this year. It also comes with 8 gigabytes of RAM, and 128 GB of storage. (Sorry, no MicroSD slot; that’s all you get.) These are all fantastic numbers, as are the numbers you’ll see from benchmark performance tests. It’s a powerful phone, right up there with the best.

OnePlus doesn’t make a lot of changes to Android 10, but the changes it does make seem to (mostly) improve the phone's performance. You can more easily swipe up or down from anywhere on the homescreen to access the notification shade or pull up your entire list of apps. I also like the gesture controls that mimic recent iPhones, and the option to turn the back button into a swipe from the left side of the phone has worked well for me. Your mileage may vary, but you can disable these gestures controls and go back to a traditional back-button setup if you like.

The fact that the 7T even has the latest Google OS is a testament to the company’s focus on delivering software and security updates. It promises two years of updates for buyers of the 7T, and has demonstrated a positive track record on updates for older phones. This is notable—despite costing close to $1,000, most Android phones outside of Google’s Pixel line and Motorola's handsets do not get regular software updates, leaving security vulnerabilities exposed and new features out of reach.

With stereo speakers and a gaming mode that optimizes graphics (and can also restrict notifications and calls so you can play without interruption), this is an ideal machine for playing Mario Kart Tour, or any other high-end title, until your eyeballs fall out. Netflix looks lovely, as well.

I’ve ended most days having spent four or five hours with the screen active, and seen about 50 percent battery remaining. A few nights, it’s been closer to 30 to 40 percent, if I stay up late. This is good, but somewhat normal battery life. If you want to improve your power efficiency, you can turn the 90 Hz refresh rate down to a more normal 60 Hz. In a pinch, the included charger is very quick. It can juice the 7T up significantly in a half hour.

Sadly, like many high-end phones, there’s no audio jack (and no adapter in the box), but OnePlus sells an adapter for $13. And this phone also isn’t IP-rated for water resistance. OnePlus claims it will handle some rain pretty well, but you won’t want to drop it in the tub.

Ready to Zoom

When it comes to smartphones, you ain’t cool unless you have three rear cameras these days, and OnePlus always wants to be cool. Like the 7 Pro, it has a 48-megapixel standard rear shooter that outputs extra sharp 12-megapixel images, a 16-megapixel sensor beneath an ultrawide lens, and a 12-megapixel telephoto. This lets you take shots that you can both zoom out a bit, and zoom in to 2X. There’s also a portrait mode, which adds a bokeh effect, the shallow depth-of-field trick that keeps the subject in focus but blurs the background in a close-up photo.

I had a great time shooting plenty of outdoor shots around Tulsa, Oklahoma, in the past week, and I've even enjoyed the extra stability of the Super Stable video mode, which uses the wide angle lens to better stabilize 1080p video; 4K 30 fps video is also available. Everything looks good, especially shots in the Nightscape mode. Like the new iPhone 11 and the latest Pixel phones, the 7T enhances night shots, adding more light, color and detail to areas that would have just appeared as black splotches on older phones. Night shots require a steady hand and a second or two wait, but they are a definite improvement.

Related Galleries

The Quest to Get Photos of the USSR's First Space Shuttle

An Artist Takes an Unflinching Look at Her Own Hysterectomy

Space Photos of the Week: NASA's Curiosity Is a Salty Dog

Related Galleries

The Quest to Get Photos of the USSR's First Space Shuttle

An Artist Takes an Unflinching Look at Her Own Hysterectomy

Space Photos of the Week: NASA's Curiosity Is a Salty Dog

In some of the above shots, you can see some examples of Nightscape mode and Super Macro mode. If you press the flower icon in the upper left side of the camera app, you can move in closer to small objects and still see them stay in focus. The effect isn’t perfect, but I was able to get closer to some plants and ants than I ever have before using a smartphone. It’s a blast to play around with modes like these, and they solidify the OnePlus 7T as a phone for shutterbugs.

Plus One

OnePlus isn’t tampering with the formula that got it to the dance, and that’s good. The 7T is one of the most powerful phones you can buy, and it costs hundreds less than its peers. It also runs on all four major US carriers, and T-Mobile sells it directly.

I've recommended the Pixel 3A ($400) as the best phone to buy for a few months now, and given the performance it offers for the price, for many of you it still is the best phone. But if you are willing to spend an extra $200, the OnePlus 7T will give you a taste of the luxuries you’d otherwise miss out on.

Correction: I referred to the display as a "Liquid" display. OnePlus calls it a "Fluid" display.

you can check out all Amazon has to offer in the One Plus lineup at:(https://amzn.to/35H33nU)

#phones iphone mobile technology phone smartphone tech gadgets technologynews samsung android oneplus technews s mobilephone instagram iphone

5 notes · View notes

askthetimetravelboyfriends · 5 years

Text

When Marty wakes up he’s still tangled in Doc’s arms, face still nestled against Doc’s chest, and he can feel the soft thumping of his loves heart. His own heart feels like it might explode with love as he gently squeezes the older man. He’d missed this so much; waking up together, wrapped in Doc’s arms.

In that moment, he feels like nothing can hurt him. Nothing matters except the two of them.

Smiling to himself he cuddles closer to Doc and allows his eyes to slip shut again, but he doesn’t go to sleep; he simply lies there and listens to Doc’s gentle breathing. He doesn’t know how long he lies there before he feels Doc stir, and the older man grumbles softly and pulls Marty closer. The teenager snorts a laugh, and he feels his boyfriend smirk against the top of his head.

“What’s so funny?” He teases, and Marty pushes his grin against Doc’s chest.

“Nothing.”

“I’m surprised you’re up before me. Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah.” He sits back and lifts his hand so he can gently cup Doc’s cheek, smoothing his thumb gently over his skin.

The scientist hums softly and leans into it, and for a moment they stay that way. Then Marty’s stomach decides it’s time to mimic a whale call. Doc snorts as he pulls away, and arches a brow.

“Time for breakfast?”

“Maybe.”

~~~~~~~~~

They walk to a small cafe a few blocks down the road, where a lovely middle-aged woman with red hair named Flo takes their order. Marty orders bacon and eggs, Doc springs for the pancakes.

“Is there anything else on the agenda for the day?” Marty asks once Flo has brought them each a steaming mug of coffee.

“We could see a movie, if you’d like.” Doc offers, and Marty’s eyes light up.

“Do you want to see the new Nightmare on Elm Street?” He asks, and Doc scrunches his nose.

“Isn’t that the one that we were told is terrible?”

“By who?”

“The young woman working at the coffee shop in 2016.” He responds, and realization clicks in Marty’s eyes.

“Oh yeah!”

“I believe her exact words were ‘never watch Freddy’s Revenge, it’s the worst one of the seven’”

“Aw come on Doc, we shouldn’t know that, it’s 1985 remember.” He teases, and Doc rolls his eyes playfully.

“Oh, alright.”

~~~~~~~~

“She was right.” Doc comments as they leave the theatre, arms linked together.

“Yeah that uh.. That was bad. That was really bad.” Marty agrees, muffling a soft laugh by turning his face into Doc’s arm. “Look at the bright side though; the third one is apparently really good.”

“Apparently.”

They fall silent, comfortable in each other’s company as head back to the hotel to retrieve their belongings and check out. They head straight up to their room, making quick work of their small amount of luggage.

“Here, love. I’ll meet you in the car.”

“Okay.”

They share a quick kiss before leaving the room, and the elevator ride to the main floor is silent. Once they arrive Doc heads to the counter, and Marty heads straight out the door and to the car, which is only parked about fifty feet from the entrance to the hotel.

He tucks the bag in the backseat and then claims his spot in the passenger side seat, hand reaching for his pocket so he can play on his phone. He hesitates, head jerking upward when he hears faint shouting. Curious and confused, he turns his head toward the door, brows furrowing when he spots a black car with no license plates parked a few feet from said doors.

“That wasn’t there before..” He mutters.

He shifts in his seat, anxiety twisting his stomach, and the shouting gets louder. Concerned for his boyfriend, Marty reaches for the door handle so he can run in and check that everything is okay, but he freezes when a man comes running out of the front door, a black mask over his face.

He shrinks down instinctively so he isn’t seen, fear paralyzing him, and the man shouts something indescernible into the hotel. Without waiting for an answer he leaps into the car, and the passenger side door opens from the inside a moment later.

Seconds feel like hours as they tick by, and then everything comes to a screeching stop.

BANG!

Marty’s blood runs cold, and before he’s even fully processed what’s happening the second man is running out. Where fear had paralyzed him before it now drives him to fling open his door, using so much force that the hinge screeches in protest. The black car screeches away, and Marty isn’t aware he’s screaming until his throat starts to ache.

“Emmett!” He shrieks, racing frantically to the door.

All he can picture is the lybians, and Doc’s bullet riddled body falling to the ground.

He slams through the doors and his gaze immediately lands upon his boyfriend, whom is crouching with someone else over a middle aged man on the floor. Doc looks over at the noise, and his eyes go wide at the sight of Marty in the doorway, shaking and pale and looking like he’s going to collapse on the spot.

“Marty.” He whispers, standing immediately, holding his arms out for the teen. Marty ignores his boyfriends blood soaked hands as he rushes forward, letting out a sob that he didn’t even realize he’d been fighting.

He crashes into Doc’s arms and his hands fist into his jacket, shaking so hard he can hardly speak.

“Oh my god- Jesus Christ Emmett.”

“Shh, I’m okay, I’m here.” He murmurs softly, squeezing the boy tightly. “I’m okay.”

Marty can’t bring himself to respond, simply clinging to his lover with all of his strength, face pressed into his throat. Doc’s heartbeat comforts him, and it takes a few minutes but eventually he stops shaking.

“What happened?” He finally mumbles, and Doc squeezes him once more.

“Those two were trying to rob the place. This gentleman here,” He gestures to the blonde man knelt over the gentleman on the floor. “Is another guest. The man on the floor is the owner. His name is Jacob.”

“Is he..?”

“No. Brian has pressure on the wound, and I called 911.”

“Hurts like a bitch, though.” Jacob tries to joke, and Brian snorts.

“I bet.”

“Is he okay?” Jacob asks then, pointing weakly over to Marty, and Doc nods.

“Just a little shaken up; I’ve been shot before.”

“Stop talking, focus on not bleeding to death.” Brian hisses, and the conversation dies there.

~~~~~~~

“Are you ready to go home?” Doc asks softly, and Marty nods his head, grip on Doc’s hand a firm -but not painful- vice.

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to be okay?” He frets, and Marty nods.

“Yeah, uh.. Yeah, Doc. I’m fine.”

“Marty...”

“I’ll be okay. I just want to go home and cuddle.” He says truthfully, and Doc nods.

“Okay. Come on, sweetheart.”

~~~~~~

When they get home, the first thing Marty does is ask Doc to take his shirt off.

“I know it’s silly, but I-“

“Hey,” He interrupts gently. “It’s okay.”

Doc is quick to strip his shirt, and Marty visibly sags in relief when there’s no new marks upon his lovers chest. He wraps his arms tightly around the older man and huffs a sigh.

“That freaked me out.” He mumbles, and Doc nods in understanding.

“I know, sweetheart.” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of Marty’s head. “Shall we make some dinner? I’m sure you’d rather cuddle, but we haven’t eaten anything since the popcorn at the movie.”

“Yeah.. okay.” He agrees reluctantly.

Doc smiles and puts a new shirt on and heads to the kitchen, and Marty follows close behind. As soon as Doc starts cooking, Marty’s arms around him and his face is pressed gently between his shoulder blades. He doesn’t say anything, simply taking comfort in the steady beat of Doc’s heart and hearing his gentle breaths as he cooks.

~~~~~~~~

When they’re lying in bed that night, tangled in each other’s arms, Marty replays the afternoon in his mind, but facts are replaced with what-if’s. In his minds eye he sees, time and time again, Doc dying. Sometimes at the hands of the lybians, mostly at the hands of the robbers.

Some situations he runs in and finds Doc dead on the ground, some he dies in his arms, and each time riles Marty up further and further until he’s shaking again. He doesn’t realize it until Doc wakes up.

“Marty? Hey,” His voice is gently, but the teenager still flinches. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Marty wordlessly shakes his head, but Doc knows. He frowns sympathetically and reaches his hand out, gently touching Marty’s shoulder, and the teens head whips around to look at him.

“Breathe for me, honey. Just relax, it’s okay.” Doc whispers softly, leaning in and gently pressing their foreheads and noses together. “In and out, nice and slow. Do it with me.”

He guides Marty to breathe with him slowly, and bit by bit the teenager calms down. Once he’s breathing properly and the shaking has mostly stopped, he sags into Doc’s chest. The scientist immediately wraps his arms around him, carding his fingers gently through his boys hair.

“Sorry, Doc.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Marty.” He promises, and Marty relaxes a little.

“I guess today freaked me out more than I thought it did..” He admits slowly. “I can’t stop thinking about how... I almost lost you again.”

“Marty, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere. I know today was scary, but we’re both here, and we’re both okay. We made it through together.”

“Together.” Marty repeats softly, and Doc presses a gentle kiss to his temple.

“Always. Would you like to move to the couch, and we can watch a movie? Maybe it’ll keep your mind off of things.”

“Yes please.”

“Alright, come on, love.”

Doc stands and Marty is quick to follow, wrapping their blanket around his shoulders as they wander through the room to the couch.

Marty throws on a random movie while his boyfriend cleans off the couch, and one it’s clean Doc lies on it, head resting on the armrest. Marty climbs on, laying between his legs with his head on Doc’s chest. Doc shifts the blanket so it covers them both, and within ten minutes of the movie they’re both asleep.

#mammett #story post #1985 #violence tw #not vivid but just in case

35 notes · View notes

boogiewrites · 6 years

Text

Choking On Sapphires 29

Title & Song: I’m Shakin’

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 4100+

Summary: And old friend of Genevieve’s comes to visit. Alfie find himself a victim of his own karma.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Sexually suggestive dialog.

A/N: Every chapter of this story will have a song to work as the title and as a soundtrack. Chapter song is I’m Shakin’ by Jack White.

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist. (Includes Parts 1-28)

He hears you squealing, he believes it to be a happy squeal as he's started to learn to translate your loud vocal expressions at this point. As it is a Saturday, and just after sunrise, he does not rush as he moves the cover back over his typewriter.

You are currently holding a slender man's face in both your hands and covering him in noisy kisses as he indulges your affectionate notions with a reluctantly happy expression.

He's barely taller than you, his hair accounting for part of that height as it is coiffed and styled in a shiny arrangement as per the current trend. He has very dark hair and eyes, similar to yours.

"Your glasses are just darling on you Fred!" you say, touching the dark tortoiseshell squared frames before retreating your hands. He nods to the glasses in your hair.

"Look like you have them now too. We're getting fucking old Genevieve." he says with a grin.

"Don't get me started Freddie." you groan with a smile, shaking your head.

"Looks like you've gone and gotten rather plump on me Genevieve." he says smacking the side of one of your breasts with a snort of laughter.

"And what of it ya cow?" you say grabbing his face with both hands, squeezing his cheeks. You both start laughing at each other.

"I might've missed you a bit, you harlot." he says with a warmer smile after you release his face and wrap your arms around his neck again.

"I missed you, you twat." you purr contently, giving him a final squeeze as you hear Alfie clear his throat. "Speaking of..." you whisper as you pull away before introducing your boys to each other.

"Freddie meet Alfie Solomons." you declare, walking towards Alfie as if he were a show pony, hand extended and showing him off with a smile.

Freddie approaches Alfie with an intrigued look on his face, not predatory, merely observant. He reaches his hand out to Alfie who takes it in both of his enthusiastically, "I've heard much about you Freddie. Gen's been proper excited about you comin' in, she has. Ain't ya luv?" he says, nodding his head at you. You smile at his welcoming demeanor, feeling charmed yourself, knowing Freddie was enjoying being the target of it.

"I've heard about you as well." he almost gives away too much of your giggled phone conversations about the man in front of him as he shoots his eyes over to you. "I figured I'd learn more after this dress fitting today though." he says with a calm confidence, measuring up Alfie.

"Ah. Well, I won't keep ya from ya gossip then. I know Gen's excited about that dress." he says with a nod, moving over to you. "Ya gonna be at tea, luv? Or should I let the girls know ya takin' it in yer room?" he asks, his eyes warm and easy going under his strong brow. You're taken aback by the gesture, a strange lump in your throat appears suddenly. His arm around your back, the caring feeling of the question, oddly touched you out of the blue. The realization that he was considering you and your needs to the point of wondering ahead of time about your meals made you blink slowly at him. He shoots you a very subtle look of questioning.

"We'll be at tea." you say quietly, looking at his lips a second too long. "Viktor is making one of Freddie's favorites since we won't be in for dinner." you continue to speak softly, that Freddie can't even hear you, as his face leans closer still to yours. Alfie smiles down at you, not knowing where this bashful girl had come from.

"Ya goin' out tonight?" he asks in a soft tone that matched your own, not wanting to startle you further as your back straightens under the movement of his fingers against your back.

"Yes...maybe go to the opera or something. I planned on winging it." you admit with a huff of a laugh, a half smile managed beneath your wide eyes.

"Well I'll see you two at tea, won't I?" he asks his hand moving from your back to your shoulder for a small squeeze.

You nod and as pulls away, the same strange smirk on his face at you. You realize at that moment that there hadn't ever been a man to care about such things for you in your life since you were a child, and then it was only one relative by blood. There certainly hadn't been any that had slept with you that would care about such a thing. This heavy hit knocked you a bit off balance noticeably. Freddie sees the presence behind your eyes leave as he knows something has just occurred to you, as your eyes drift about, unfocused.

Alfie has left politely and Freddie knowingly takes your arm and leads you to your room. "I'd act like that if he looked at me like that too sweetheart, god damn," he says with a full amused and smug look on his face. "Not to insult your work Gen but that sketch you sent me of him does not do that big, charming Jewish ginger snap justice." he says with a laugh, snapping you out of your invasive thoughts as you nodded in agreement with the statement. ----- You're back to normal, wagging your chin loudly at Freddie, catching up and bitching.

"Just in time Alfie! I'm just about to fit her tits for this dress." he says in a laugh, tape measure in hand, pin cushion attached to his wrist.

"Oh well, I- Uh-" he says not coming around the corner.

"Don't play shy Alfie, we can trust Freddie." you say comfortingly. You figure he was trying to play low key on the sexual nature of your usual banter until he had a clear signal it was okay to be cheeky around this man he didn't know.

"Nothin' we ain't seen before, eh?" he says with that charming smile, directed at you as he walks his powerful and paced walk you thought was very becoming. Especially when he looked so broad in his soft white shirt. His hands in his pockets, wide shoulders swaggering towards you.

"There he is!" you say cheerfully. "I told you he's a cheeky boy just like you." you say, your face moving to Freddie.

"Best kind of boy." he says, mumbling in focus with a needle in his mouth.

"This the dress ya wearin'?" he asks, having the nerve to actually walk a slow circle around the pedestal you stood upon while Freddie fitted the dress.

"It's not finished yet but yes." you say, finding it hard to show off the beautiful gold floral lace that swelled out of your lower half in a classic ball gown silhouette.

"There will be more layers and beading when it's finished," he mumbles, fluffing the skirt with a frown. "We'll have a sheer bit across the upper arms, the middle of the chest here," he speaks informatively and casually. "And course it'll have all the beading and stones all across the bodice here as well. Have to be the shiniest thing in the room all the time, don't you?" he says with a warmer tone. "But you'll look like a golden ray of sunlight come to life once I'm done with you." he says excitedly.

"Even like this it ain't bad, yeah?" he says with an honest shrug.

"It's not but it's not up to level of obnoxiousness I need for my birthday." you say with a grin. "I have to have something big enough to match the grandeur of the ruby tiara."

"A fuckin' tiara?" he says with a low chuckle. "Oh Gen. What we gonna do with a princess like you, eh?"

"Empress actually." he looks at you with a friendly but confused look. "The jewels and tiara mimic those of Empress Josephine's." you say with a devastatingly charming smile.

"The Empress- Yeah of fuckin' course." he says with a shake of his head.

"I always wear a tiara on my birthday Alfie. It's the only day I have the excuse to!" you say exasperatedly. "I have this grand party to celebrate and if I," you place your hand to your chest. "...can't show that I'm worth celebrating than the party would certainly be dull wouldn't it? It's about living your fucking life and all that."

"It's about you getting absolutely pissed out of your fucking mind and waking up in some peculiar way that will lend itself to the community gossip for days after the fact." he says with his usual welcome pushy tone.

Your smile full of guilt you shrug at Alfie who is watching you with interest. "He's not wrong." you admit with a cheeky little smile, your chin pushing into your chest as you roll your eyes at yourself. "Why don't you get fitted for a suit Alfie?" you suggest, a mischievous look in your eyes as they move up and down his body.

"Well I didn't plan on it." he says with a shrug.

"Freddie is a wizard and will make it fit you like a dream. If you were one for loud colors I'd suggest a gold metallic suit to match my dress." you say with a high pitched laugh. He bites his lip for a moment at your laid-back silliness, finding your charm hiding in the most unlikely of places.

"You couldn't get me in no matching, cutesy-pie shit like 'at even ya's my wife, mate." he says with a slow-growing smile to accompany the chuckle.

"Well lucky for you she was kidding." Freddie smirks, pinching your sides.

"Yeah I'm not a fan of anyone wearing anything that looks like what I'm wearing, am I?" you raise your eyebrow and tilt your head. "But you would look so smashing in something taupe. Don't you think Freddie? Oh, or a nice blue-grey. Bring out those lovely eyes?" you say with a supportive, genuine grin while your forearms rest atop your head while Freddie fusses with your bodice.

"Those eyes are just begging for some color in that wardrobe. They're gorgeous, Alfie." he says motioning with his hand as if he's dismissing any objection. He turns his face to meet Alfie. "That's beyond me hitting on you, you heard the lady say it as well, just a fact." he nods, going back to his work.

"Well fanks for 'at mate." he says with a pleasant closed mouth smile. Oh, he was adorable when he was pleased with himself.

"I'd kill to see you in a dark purple." you pout.

"I like my neutrals now, luv. I prefer me flash from jewels." he says grinning, wiggling his decorated hands in the flattering light of the room.

"Like this one's style." Freddie says with a distracted polite expression, quiet as his back is turned to the man.

"I prefer to be decadent and do both."

"There's a thin line between that and gaudy, darling." he and Alfie both share a chuckle at your expense.

"I'll have you know Mr. Solomons is a fan of my taste in jewels." you say in defense of yourself.

"'At's true." he nods, backing you up.

"Well, I suppose you just keep minding that line then," Freddie says with a shake of his head. He sighs and stretches his back as he stands up straight. "I've almost got ya baps strapped in so if we're having tea you might want to send word." he says removing the pin cushion from his wrist.

You move your face in the direction of Alfie who already has his back to you. He holds his hand up in the air as he saunters away as if he knew you'd be looking to him.

"Got it." he gruffs out, disappearing out of the room. ----------------------------------------------------- You've called out his name in that lovely lilt it takes on when you're in a good mood. He's padding through the hallway, slippers on, glasses jingling around his neck to meet the source of the sound.

"There you are!" you say, your fingers smoothing out the silk of your dress. His eyelashes flutter as he see's you in something that must be new as he's seen no other woman dressing like that this London. "I wanted to show off a bit before I left." you admit with a coy shrug and a soft laugh. "Freddie brought it in, fresh from Paris. You can still smell a bit of perfume from the shop on her." you say with that romantic tone to your voice.

He's never seen you in pink before. Your look is soft and light and not what he's used to. Your hair bounces in tight curls, lips a light pink blush like that of your dress. He gets close enough to reach out and feel the softness of the fabric resting snugly against your body. The dress was cut for your curves, hitting the ground in one long line, his fingers feeling the low back as his arm made its way across the small of your back.

He leans his nose in close to your ear, and agonizingly slowly. He can see your eyes darting in question as he leans in. He takes a deep breath, nose placed against the strap of your dress on your shoulder. "Mmmm. I 'ont know if its the dress or not but you smell lovely." he says quietly, looking about like getting caught touching in your own house was a danger.

"Thank you, I used new oils in my bath Freddie brought as well." you say, moving your hair off your shoulder. You keep your voice calm and soft, your body humming from the powerful stance he was currently holding you in. You were amused by the level of affection he was showing outside of a locked room. You hadn't known how he'd start acting after you'd started sleeping together, but tonight you were seeing some grade A, prime charming Solomons on display just for you and it made the girl in you blush while the woman you were remained smiling with watchful eyes.

"Never seen you in pink before," he says in a more casual tone, reaching for your hand and making your spin for him. You stop and watch his face as his eyes move over your body. You'd forgotten what it was like to welcome or enjoy a man looking at you in such a way. He meets your eyes, placing your hand that he had held for your spin onto his back as he moves his arm around you. "You always wear such dark colors," he pauses, a thoughtful look plays across his face. " But tonight you look like the sexiest candy floss I've ever seen." he has a hint of teasing as usual in his voice and you smile at his words, his eyes watching your lips as they laughed and spoke. "But candy floss starts to disappear when it gets wet, doesn't it?" he says with a sly smile, you return the glance at his cheeky words. "And I know you don't do that." his rumbling chuckle makes goosebumps run across your skin. If he didn't kill you with violence it was going to be from dehydration wasn't it?

"But I do melt when you put your mouth on me just the same." you say saucily but without selling it too heavily in your expression.

"Mmm. Am I gonna get the chance to make you melt tonight, luv?" he asks with a snicker in his voice, leaning in close to your face, eyes watching your lips as you were starting to wish he'd just kiss you already.

"Hmmm." you answer with pursed lips. "Ask me after I get home. Depends on how late we're out and how much I drink," you say less seductively but with informative tone. "I don't know what he's going to feel up to so I'm not going to make any promises I can't keep," you say with a charming smile, tilting your head up at him. "Not a sexy answer but a practical one." you offer with a shrug.

"Who says practical can't be sexy?" he says with a low laugh, his shoulders moving with it as he kisses your cheek. "This dress certainly is though." he hums, raising his eyebrows at you, hand reaching down your back to your ass.

"Get your paws off her, Solomons, you're going to wrinkle that dress and it's African silk." Freddie says with a bossy but light tone as he walks into the room.

Alfie grins and steals a quick kiss when Freddie isn't looking, letting you go. "Well I wouldn't want to take part in that atrocity." he says with a low chuckle, hand moving to rub the back of his neck, stepping back and giving you a boyishly charming smile as if you'd gotten caught snogging in a storage closet. -- He's in his room, yawning as he rubs his eyes over an old book. He hears cackles from the lobby, he waits as he hears steps come down the hall in his direction. You were back far earlier than he anticipated.

"Bonjour Alfie!" you chirp, your hip swinging as you make your way into the room. "We ate and drank and it looked like rain and I'm not letting mother nature ruin this dress. But then I became tired because I ate too much pasta and we came home," you say with a pout that isn't reading as genuinely sad. "We're going to have a little chin wag in the study and you're welcome to join, or not." you move your hands back and forth, "Either way is fine. We are not sober, and will be continuing down that path if you would like to join us on that journey as well," you say happily, your hands clapping together with your loose body language, moving as you spoke by his door. "We will be loud so if we bother you to the point of annoyance, let me know, but please don't yell at me though because when I'm drunk and men yell at me it doesn't end well." you say with a heavy nod of your head.

"I'm not gonna yell at ya for enjoyin' yerself in yer house. Go on, have ya fun babes. I'll be here." he says nodding and shooing you with his hand. You spin and turn out of his room, trotting back down the hall to land on the couch with a bounce as Freddie poured more wine. -- "You've got Chanel getting all the credit in Paris, dressing women like men while Lanvin, not only a designer but multi-talented, takes a back seat." he hears Freddie bark.

"If you're trying to tell me of how the public favors a young beauty over a well developed aged mind, I'm afraid you are enlightening me in no way." Alfie hears you chuckle out. He's eavesdropping again. Shooting a wink at Aggie as she catches him. She'd never tell on him.

"I know that, I'm not daft. Just unfair to the spirit of creativity and talent." he says with a wave.

"If I'm wearing a Chanel dress, I'll still have more Lanvin on my body," you say with a flourish of your hand. "Although I use more makeup and perfume by the latter, I still believe I've given more money to Chanel." you roll your eyes. "But better to give Lanvin my money over Patou, I suppose." you shrug.

Freddie laughs into his glass. "Not a fan of ready-to-wear?" he smirks.

"You know I'm not." you return the glance with a shake of your head.

"Nor of tennis?" he laughs.

"You know I prefer other sport." you giggle. "How are my old freinds fairing? How is Madeline doing? She always knew how to fit a woman's body. Oh! What about Elsa? Her and Dali still playing off each other?" you ask with inquisitive eyes.

"They've both built quite the name for themselves. They both have their own houses now, you know." he says, with raised eyebrows.

"I did not." you say impressed. "Good to see the girls doing well though. I'll need to visit soon. I was always very fond of Vionett personally. But you know I'll always roll on my back for a good Grecian reference though won't I?" you giggle into the glass of wine.

"Speaking of the Greeks, why isn't your Zeus joining us?" he snorts, cheeky look on his face while not meeting your eyes.

"Oh, I feel him more of a...Dionysus." you declare with a broad grin. "I extended the invitation but he didn't come, so...." you shrug and take another sip.

"Well, we've got all the pink wine tonight honey. If getting this pink into you does not get him into yours then I'm afraid there's no hope." he says with a smile and shake of his head.

"Pink wine does make me a bit of a harlot." you say with a snorting laugh. "I don't think getting him in will be a problem." you say with amused pursed lips.

"And what was it like to fall off the wagon and right onto a cock?" he says, making himself laugh.

"Much better ride than the wagon, I'll tell ya that, Fred." you belly laugh.

"He's a broad man isn't he? This reflected elsewhere?" he implores with a naughty grin.

He hears you snort into your glass. "Yes, so is his religion," you whisper, tongue between your teeth as you silently laugh. "It's like going so long without it has made it feel different now or something. I mean he's...well, you know how I like 'em." you say with a shrug. "He's like that." you say with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah you little masochist." he chuckles.

"Eh, ya know me." you say with a giggle. "It's not just the breadth, the..." you make a hand motion to gesture the excellence of him, "It's this curve he's got." you say quietly, biting your thumb.

Alfie wets his lips and holds in a laugh as he has the dumbest grin on his face from hearing your praise.

"Ah yes. Still on the hunt for that elusive female ejaculation, I see." you snort into your glass.

"Not what I meant but he does fit me nice and snug I confess. My eyes almost didn't uncross after I got off from riding him, I swear." you fan yourself with your hand.

"It the wine or the man causing ya to flush?" he kids, prodding your shoulder with his foot as it hung off the arm of the chair he was relaxed back into.

"Both. Exacerbating one another." you laugh.

"Since I won't be sleeping with the man, any other dirty details you want to spill while I'm here? I know Claire doesn't like to talk about such things. Might as well get it out of your system."

"I'm not sure what's left to tell."

"Well what's different? You said it was different now. I said we were getting old but we aren't that old." he smirks.

"I don't know if it's age, the abstinence or just him." you shrug with a wiggle of your eyebrows. "Being as skilled and fun as he is, there's something else that's..." you sigh and frown slightly.

"You aren't known for your lack of words." Freddie says with a smile.

"No, but when you've done what I have and you find yourself experiencing something that you aren't used to it can be a bit confusing." you elaborate, moving your hands. "Maybe it's the intensity he brings. He's got that magnetism." your eyes narrow in pleasant thought of the man.

"Certainly, I noticed. Confidence, power, that boldness you're so fond of." he adds to your description.

"Yes he's very charming." you say quietly, looking into your glass.

"You are used to being the charming one." he says with a smirk, tilting his head at you.

You scoff out a laugh, "Two charming people can coexist." you say in defense of yourself.

"Yes, especially when one likes the other more." he says with pursed lips.

"What? I'm quite fond of the man but-" you start to retort with a wrinkled nose.

"I wasn't talking about you, dear." his tone reflects the expression he has so Alfie doesn't even have to see it to know what it looks like; eyes raised to yours with a lowered brow with insinuation.

Alfies back stiffens, his eyes shoot to one side, feeling paranoid by the accusation. He steps back, your reply muffled now from his ears. He lets out a heavy sigh, hands on his hips as he bites his lip and takes a few steps back, looking at the ornately decorated door. He supposes he deserved to hear the gut fluttering statement since he was eavesdropping.But now he’s left with more questions than answers, the opposite of the expected outcome, with the questions being all for himself.

Pt 30: Teenage Kicks (NSFW)

Tags! Let me know if you’d like to be added or dropped! Thanks!

@fangirlfreakingout@jaegeeeeer@cosettewinchester@lookuptheskyisfalling-blog@brianaisasongbird@cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464@hardygal69@thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle@negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this @shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted @vale0413

#Alfie Solomons #Peaky Blinders #ChokingOnSapphires #Tom Hardy #Alfie Solomons x ofc #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons fan fiction #alfie solomons fan fic #alfie solomons fanfic #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fan fic #peaky blinders fan fiction #alfie solomons x reader fluff #alfie solomons x reader smut #alfie solomons x reader angst #alfie solomons smut #boogiewrites

109 notes · View notes