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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

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His Good Sweater: Chapter 13

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 6.7k

Recommended song: "Cupid’s Chokehold/Breakfast in America” by Gym Class Heroes

"I have to go."

"Can't you stay five more minutes?"

"I wish."

"Come on, just a few more minutes to cuddle." Pierre flings back the fluffy duvet and holds out a hand. "Please?"

"I have an exam," you say with a sigh but bend to press a kiss to his upturned palm. "I can't skip."

Pierre groans and slings an arm over his eyes. "What am I supposed to do all day?"

"I don't have a sim but I have an old PlayStation you're more than welcome to use. I think I still have one or two games."

"That won't keep me busy."

"I'm sure you'll find something. Just stay out of trouble okay? I'd like to get my security deposit back when I finally move out of this hellhole."

"Okay," Pierre grumbles, sitting up to give you a quick kiss. "What time are you getting back?"

"Four. We can go out to dinner or something." You smooth a hand over his hair, smiling lightly. "Or we can go for a picnic and take a walk through Saint James Park."

"Sounds like a plan." He turns his head to kiss your palm. "I'll be counting down the minutes."

You roll your eyes but your smile contradicts the sass. "I'll be home before you know it. Love you, champion."

"I love you too, mon coeur."

He was endlessly grateful for how easily the two of you had fallen back into each other. When he had shown up at your doorstep he had expected there to be awkward pauses and minutes of tense silence, but there had been blissfully little of either. As the days bleed into each other, your relationship only gets steadier, closer and closer to what it used to be. Maybe it was because you had been the one to break the silence or maybe it was because he had thrown himself into his career into someone's bed- whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. He was simply grateful to be welcomed back into your life. He didn't plan on leaving any time soon.

Pierre allows himself a half hour of lounging in bed before forcing himself to get up and shower. Off weeks were hard; all he wanted to do was rest and recharge but he still had to follow his workout regimen and sleep schedule or he risked falling out of the habit, making it that much harder to get back in the groove come race week.

First order of business: clean the clutter you had shoved in closets and the spare room prior to his arrival the day before. Folding the three baskets of clean laundry took an hour, washing dishes another thirty minutes, and vacuuming the entire flat took twenty. Once the counters are spotless and there isn’t a stray sock to be found, he takes stock of your pantry and notes what staples you were running low on.

Two hours later he trudges back up the three flights of stairs to your apartment, arms laden with reusable bags packed to the gills with food. His legs burn and he's slightly winded from the excursion; at least that could count as his work out for the day.

He's just about to start slicing vegetables for dinner when his phone chimes with a text from his PR agent, Sylvie.

You're supposed to be in an interview now. Where are you?

"Oh shit." He scrambles for his laptop which of course was dead. He manages to plug it in at the dining room table and angle it so the background is mostly neutral, just a band poster framed behind him. He checks his hair before logging into the interview.

"There's the star," the interviewer says, far too chipper to be entirely genuine.

"Sorry, I was having connection issues." He queues up his signature sweetheart smile that gets him out of any squabbles. It works, the woman's irritation melting into a more easy expression.

"Let's just get right into it. Since we're low on time I'll jump right in, if you don't mind."

Pierre leans back. He had an inkling where this was headed. "By all means, please."

"We just saw news of your deal with Christian Horner- if you take seventh in this year's drivers championship, it looks like you're at Red Bull Racing next year. How does that feel after being publicly demoted mid-season in 2019?"

A smirk tugs at Pierre's lips. He had known this exact question was coming. He had debated how to answer it without starting waves and still remaining truthful. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his ability to be diplomatic when others may have let their egos get in the way.

"Obviously I'm grateful that Red Bull has recognized the hard work I've been putting in at Alpha Tauri," he starts. "I think I've been able to push the car as far as I can but I still have pace in me, personally. So moving into the Red Bull would let me loose, so to speak, and give me a chance to prove that Red Bull is where I belong."

"Right, you have had quite a spectacular season so far with a race win under your belt and a few podiums for good measure. What do you attribute that success to? Why is it so different now in an Alpha Tauri versus that coveted second Red Bull seat?"

Pierre purses his lips. The answer he was expected to give wasn't one he was willing to voice. Instead he opts for neutral. "I've been able to focus and hone my driving this season. I've found a groove that works for me and with it has come an insane amount of confidence, which is something I struggled with for awhile after going back to Torro Rosso. I think it's really just that I'm finally comfortable in the car and with my team and that makes a huge difference."

"Thank you for that," the journalist says and Pierre nods. "Shifting gears, I have a few questions about your personal life if you don't mind."

This was the part he always dreads. Questions were often prying and he had to subtly skirt around them in a way that offered a satisfying answer without giving away too much. It was an art he liked to think he had perfected over the years but still didn't enjoy.

"As long as you don't mind me staying silent if I don't want to answer."

The woman laughs, the sound sharp and grating. "Of course. Unless I can bribe you into giving me an exclusive."

"Likely not. But you ask the right questions and we'll see."

"You've been seen hanging around a certain London neighborhood lately- that wouldn't have anything to do with you and your lovely lady, would it?"

He had been waiting for that one, too. When the two of you had returned from Red Bull headquarters he had noticed the man taking pictures across the street. He hadn't said anything to you at the time because really, there was no point in getting you worked up when he had a plan to handle it.

The question played right into his hand, in fact.

Pierre sits forward, folding his hands in front of him. "Actually yes. We recently got back together and if you'll let me, I would like to make a request."

The woman leans back and checks her notes. "Well it's not quite what I had planned but please," she gives a flourish with a hand, "you have the floor."

"I know driver's personal lives are something that a lot of people are interested in and that's great. I don't mind sharing things with my fans or letting them get the inside scoop, but there's some things I would rather be left alone. My relationship is one of them. I know you all took note that she hasn't been around the past couple months and if I'm being honest, it's because of comments and press coverage that invaded her privacy. I think some people forgot she was more than just a name on a screen."

Pen poised to take notes, the interviewer prompts, "You said you had a request?"

He doesn’t stop to assess the damage he had already undoubtedly done. Sylvie was probably already on the phone doing damage control with every news outlet she could get her hands on, if her muted and black square at the bottom of the screen was an indication.

"All I'm asking is that you leave her alone. If you have questions or comments you have to make, just direct them at me. Don't follow her around asking about me. Don't comment on her posts unless you're capable of being a decent human. Just… let her live her life in peace."

Maybe he was a love sick fool, but honestly he didn't care if he lost some support from fans. If they had such strong opinions on his personal life, he would be better off without them anyway. And his team could cut him and even if he was unable to secure a seat in Formula 1 after next season, he would survive.

But if he lost you again, he would be broken. It had taken being apart from you for him to realize it and he'd be damned if he was ever disconnected from you like that again.

"That's quite the speech."

Pierre shrugs. "It was. She's the most important thing in my life, right up there with racing.” Now that he had started down the road of truth, he found it impossible to hold his tongue. “I lost her once because people couldn't be bothered to remember that their words have consequences. I won't let it happen again."

"So you see yourself with her for a long time then?" The woman's eyes glitter with the potential of getting an even juicer tidbit from him.

Pierre’s jaw sets, muscles feathering. "That's not something I'm prepared to discuss."

The woman purses her lips and tips her head to the side. There was clearly more she wanted to say. "Well, I have to thank you for what you've given me here. My boss is gonna love the exclusive. I won't push any further. Thanks for your comments, Pierre."

"Thanks for actually being respectful."

“We aren’t all monsters.” The woman shrugs. “I can’t say I haven’t had my moments but I try to be straightforward.”

“Right, yeah. I get that you have a job to do.”

“Anyway. I look forward to seeing what you can do the rest of this season. Good luck.”

He signs off and instantly anxiety washes over him. If she twisted his words he was screwed. Sylvie would be on the phone as soon as the article was printed, no doubt trying to soothe sponsors and investors. She'd give him an earful about being respectful and not poking the bear but he'd tune it out like he always did.

The sooner he got away from Red Bull, the better.

Instead of dwelling on it he busies himself with cooking. It was one of his guilty pleasures. He always requested a full kitchen when he was staying anywhere more than a few days so that if he had the chance to make a home-cooked meal, he had the option. For tonight he had selected his favorite recipe. Parmesan-Cesar chicken wasn't normally something you would ever touch with a ten foot pole but as long as he was making it, Pierre knew you'd at least give it a try.

Music blasting in the background, Pierre sings along quietly as he unpacks the rest of the ingredients and gets to work. He does a little spin between the island and the sink, rinsing the dishes and putting them right in the dishwasher as he uses them. A clean kitchen is the mark of a great chef, his mom had told him, drilling the phrase into him when he was young.

In the middle of cutting potatoes Pierre gets a call. He only has an hour until you're home so he doesn't bother stopping, just puts it on speaker and continues measuring spices.

"Hey Daniel."

"Heard you're in London," Daniel says, Australian accent thick. "And a little birdie told me you and your lady got back together."

"We did," Pierre says, a smile splitting his face. "Finally."

"Thank god, now I don't have to listen to your drunk woe-is-me rambling anymore."

Pierre laughs and sets aside the measuring spoons. "It's not that bad."

"Oh please." Pierre could practically hear the eyes rolling. "The number of times I had to send an uber to a bar after a grand prix is insane. Charles and I should be entitled to financial compensation with the amount of babysitting we've been doing."

"I can handle myself!"

"Not after a martini you can't."

He was right there. "Is there a point to this conversation?"

"Oh right- I'm actually in town today too, got some stuff to shoot for McLaren before we head to Austria for the race next week. You guys wanna come out with us tonight? We're heading to a bar or two."

"I actually had something planned-"

"She already said she's coming!" Dan's girlfriend shouts in the background.

“Well then why even ask me?”

“To be polite,” Daniel offers with a laugh. “We’re meeting at the rooftop bar at the Trafalgar hotel at seven. That give you enough time to do whatever you had planned that’s apparently more important than seeing your best mates?”

“We’ll be there,” Pierre says and hangs up. He finishes seasoning the potatoes and pops them in the oven, finally getting a chance to sit while they cook alongside the main course.

He's on his feet a few minutes later, decluttering the last bits of mess around your flat. It was clear it hadn't had a decent cleaning in quite awhile- hopefully you'd keep it tidy now that the effort had been made. The guys would tease him endlessly if they found out he was acting like a housewife.

You arrive home just as he’s setting the table. “God, it smells amazing in here.”

“Salut, mon amour.” Hands full with hot dishes, he settles for a kiss to your cheek. “I made dinner.”

“And you cleaned,” you observe. “You were a busy boy.”

“Pyry would kill me if he found out I was laying around all day. I had to do something.”

You hang your backpack on the hook behind the door and take a seat at the table. “Well remind me to thank him again when I see him. This looks delicious.”

Pierre grins over his shoulder at you. “Me or the food?”

You throw your head back and laugh, loud and unrestrained. “The food, you goof.”

Pierre quirks a brow. "Is that the honest answer?"

"Okay, maybe both."

The meal is filled with your ramblings about your exam and your new hobby- this month it was hiking. You went into detail about all the few trails in the city you’d been on as well as the more challenging ones that dotted the countryside. Pierre just nods along as you talk, already planning on staying up late to learn what he could about the topic so he could be a better conversation partner.

The pair of you work together to tidy the kitchen and put away any leftovers. “Did you bring something semi nice to wear tonight or do we have to make a quick trip to the store?”

“I’ve got some Tauri stuff I can wear. And not just team gear,” he adds when you groan. “You know that cream sweater you love? The one with the logo debossed on the front? I’ve got that.”

“Oh,” you say before biting your lip. Your eyes trail down his frame and back up like you’re imagining it on him. A tingle travels up his spine under your assessing gaze. If you kept that up, neither of you would make it out of the apartment tonight. “My favorite. Yeah, wear that. It’ll be on my floor by the end of the night.”

Pierre places his hands on your waist and grins. “Will it? And what will be on the floor from your closet, hm?”

“Your favorite dress.”

“The orange one?” He realizes half a second too late that you would never know how much he adored that dress from the gala. It had hugged your curves in all the right places and left your back exposed, which would leave him free to trace patterns on your soft skin whenever he pleased. He had missed out on worshipping you in it that night and he wouldn’t mind the opportunity to do so now.

You roll your eyes. “I can’t wear that to a bar.”

“Says who?” Pierre nuzzles his face against your neck, breathing you in. A light undercurrent of sweat from your walk home from classes mingles with the usual bright scent of you, only serving to rile him up further. Never in a million years would he have guessed that a simple scent could do him in, and yet here he was, completely wrapped up in yours.

“Says me.” You sigh, tipping your head to the side when Pierre’s nose grazes your skin.

His lips follow until he reaches your jaw before he pulls back. “What one are you wearing then?”

“Does it matter?” You cross your arms, the smirk playing on your kissable lips tempting him.

“I have to mentally prepare myself.” And if whatever you chose was too sexy, he would need to get his handsiness out of his system before the pair of you met up with Daniel and his girlfriend. The last thing he needed was to be on the front of some seedy gossip column when his plan was to ease back into it.

You smile up at him, broad and unrestrained as if knowing your answer would affect him greatly. “The cobalt blue one that makes you stutter.”

The dress in question was just as form fitting as the orange one, but shorter and decidedly more distracting. It fell mid thigh and the spaghetti straps left your shoulders exposed, which coupled with the low back displayed a downright sinful amount of skin. You had worn it at a Torro Rosso event a couple years back and he had scarcely been able to get a full sentence out around you all night.

“That one’s a close second.” He follows you to your room, leaving you to hunt through the closet while he digs through his suitcase, thankful that he had the foresight to check out of his hotel on the way back from Red Bull and bring his things here.

Because there was no way in hell he was missing a second of being by your side while he was in town. Every moment had to count when he had no idea when he would be able to sleep next to you again, not when the season was nearly over and there were two double headers between now and winter break. When so many variables stood between him and you, he had no problem prioritizing you over a routine workout or a full night’s rest.

Pierre changes into the sweater and a pair of dark skinny jeans well before you emerge from the bathroom. He doesn’t bother responding to Dan’s text that includes an address and reminds him to be on time, instead opting to scroll through his instagram feed. He likes a handful of posts from his fellow drivers, including one of Max actually smiling at something off camera.

“Well?”

Pierre’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice. The phone falls from his hand when he drags his eyes over your body, head to toe and back again.

Oh, he was so fucked.

Maybe it was selfish, but with your hair done like that, the barest brush of makeup lining your eyes and in that stunningly blue dress, he didn’t want any other man to have the privilege of laying their eyes on you.

No, you were all his.

The moment you’re within reach, Pierre places his hands on the back of your thighs, just beneath the curve of your barely covered ass. You chuckle and tap your fingers under his chin. “Close your mouth; you’ll catch flies.”

“Just so you know, if you wear that dress I can’t be held liable for my actions.” Up to and including scaring off anyone that wasn’t Daniel or his girlfriend. No one else deserved to be blessed with your radiance. Hell, he didn’t deserve it, and yet here you stood.

“We’ll see about that.”

**********

Daniel and his girlfriend had already made their way through a round of drinks by the time you arrive. It wasn’t Pierre’s fault he couldn’t keep his hands off you and wound up getting distracted on the drive over.

"Late as always," she greets, kissing your cheek. "Dan got us here fifteen minutes early because he wanted the table with the best view."

"Like our names wouldn't have gotten us the table if we asked," Pierre says, wrapping Daniel in a one-armed hug before kissing his girl’s cheek in a traditional French greeting. "The view is pretty great though."

You were already leaning on the glass partition, hands curled over the edge and undoubtedly leaving behind fingerprints on the pristine surface, completely unfazed by the fact that the other patrons were staring. You had eyes only for the London skyline and Trafalgar square lit up below. The bar with its white marble tabletops and strict dress code was absolutely not a place that you should be standing on your tiptoes for a better view, but there was no way he could condemn you when your face lit up like that.

Pierre just places a hand on the small of your back and shoots a look at the bartender currently glaring in your direction, daring the smartly dressed man to say anything. He only raises a brow and resumes filling drink orders.

"You guys know how to pick a place," you say, "I could stand here all night."

"Right," Daniel's girlfriend says, rolling her eyes at Pierre who shrugs as if to say what do you want me to do? He was powerless to deny you anything that brought you a semblance of joy; your smile was everything to him. “Love, why don’t you come tell us about uni? You’re the only one of us currently enrolled, and I’m sure the boys would love to hear about all the drama.”

You and Pierre share a secret grin. You shake your head but allow him to guide you back to the cocktail table. “Drama? I’m an engineering major. The closest thing we have to drama is someone grossly miscalculating a structural load.”

Dan shoots Pierre a mischievous grin. “I heard Stroll might be moving next year-”

Both you and Daniel’s girlfriend groan at the same time. “No racing talk when we’re around tonight,” she says. “I’ve heard enough lately.”

“What’s new in the publishing world?” You ask, leaning into Pierre when he wraps an arm around you. He only half listens to her explain the so-called “top secret” project she’s currently working on, instead opting to get drunk on you.

The light breeze filtering through the surrounding buildings ruffles your hair. You lift a hand absentmindedly to tuck it behind your ear in an attempt to keep it out of your face. Everything you do is amazing to him, snagging his attention even when he should be listening to whatever it was his friends were saying. Your gravity was simply too strong to bother resisting.

“Enough talk,” Daniel’s girlfriend says, waving a hand. “You need a drink, and I want to dance. Let’s go.” Before Pierre can protest, she’s dragging you away to the glass top bar. You throw an apologetic glance over your shoulder and Pierre just winks. He was fine watching you from afar for now.

Pierre’s gaze drops to your perky ass when you lean in to let the bartender know what you want, likely shouting to be heard over the music, your dress riding up a bit with the movement. For having such a strict dress code, this place sure did feel like an upper class club.

You hook your thumb over a shoulder, the bartender’s gaze darting to Pierre before the man nods. The only explanation you offer is a wink, followed by a note on a cocktail napkin and a beer delivered a few minutes later by a server.

This is supposed to be the best beer they have. Just try it.

Leave it to you to constantly push him outside his comfort zone. Pierre tentatively sniffs the foamy glass and shrugs before taking a sip. Not bad, but he still preferred his usual whiskey.

Setting the glass down, Pierre turns back to Daniel. “Congrats on extending your contract with McLaren by the way. Should give you a decent shot at keeping up with the big boys and landing some serious points.”

“Seems like most of us are moving around, doesn’t it? Sainz to Ferrari, Seb to Aston Martin... The only one with any sort of long term commitment is Max and now me I guess.”

“And Charles,” Pierre adds. “He’s stuck in that red monstrosity for the foreseeable future.”

Daniel laughs, taking a swig from his glass. “And you’re moving too, huh? Austria should be interesting,” Daniel remarks, watching the girls at the bar nursing their own drinks. “What with the news of your new contract breaking and all.”

“Potential contract,” Pierre corrects. “Not for sure yet.”

Daniel scoffs. “Come on mate. You won’t have any problem getting up to seventh by the end of the season. Perez is slipping and the news that his seat is in jeopardy will only help your cause.”

Pierre takes a sip of his amber beer and nods. “I’m sure Perez doesn’t appreciate it, but he’s always been a good sport.” You catch Pierre’s eye and lift your fresh flute of champagne in a mock salute. Dan’s girlfriend drags you out on the dancefloor and immediately spins you. Your laugh is nearly audible, the memory of it fresh in Pierre’s mind as he watches you.

“Mate, have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Daniel shakes his head and drains his drink. “I really don’t know how it took you two this long to come together. You’ve been dancing around each other for years but neither of you would admit it.”

“I could say the same about you two.”

Daniel shrugs. “Fair point. At least we got it all worked out in a weekend though.”

Pierre rolls his eyes and shoves his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever. Not all of us can have a perfect love story.”

The grin Daniel shoots Pierre is pure sunshine. “How long are you planning on waiting before you ask her to marry you?”

“What?” Pierre sputters, nearly choking on air. “Who said anything about marriage?”

“Oh come on,” Dan says, rolling his eyes. “We all know it’s coming eventually.”

Pierre would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. But he wasn’t sure if it was the time for a proposal, not when you had just gotten back together. The last thing he wanted to do was go through the pain of losing you again because he was too forward.

“One day at a time,” Pierre says finally, dragging himself back to earth. “I just got her back a few days ago. I don't want to scare her off by proposing just yet.”

“Right. Well you might want to get a ring on that hand sooner rather than later,” Daniel notes, gesturing to the two men who had approached the girls. “How long are we gonna let that go on before we step in?” Neither of you paid the men any attention, instead enjoying each other’s company, but the men’s eyes roaming over your body sets Pierre on edge.

“They can handle themselves,” Pierre remarks, shifting on his feet. The weak attempt at self assurance didn’t do much to negate the red tinting his vision. “They’re fine.”

“Her sharp tongue will hold them at bay,” Daniel says, winking at his girlfriend. “For a while at least.” Props to Daniel for possessing inhuman amounts of restraint, but Pierre’s muscles were coiled and ready to interject at the first sign of trouble.

He has to pause to remind himself he doesn't own you. You could make your own decisions about who you spoke with and who you entertained as long as he was the one to take you home. He didn't care if you wanted to flirt; he knew it meant nothing and if you got a free drink out if it then so be it. But those were the rules: flirting, no touching. He'd step in if need be if someone took it too far.

But that didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

Pierre watches tight lipped as you politely chat with the man, your body language closed off and dismissive. Pierre hates that you even speak a word to him. He knows it shouldn’t bother him because he trusts you, but the stranger is a wild card. Pierre watches like a hawk as the man inches ever closer, slowly interesting himself into your personal space. He waits for you to take a step back, to grant him that silent permission to come over and insert himself in the conversation and get his hands on you, this proving you weren't on the market.

One of the men shouts something at you over the music and you leer back at him, clearly disgusted at whatever he had said. Whirling on him, you open your mouth, likely to snap out a profanity lined retort, when his hand latches onto your arm.

"Oh, fuck no."

Half a second later, Pierre is stalking across the dance floor, no thoughts other than teaching the asshole a lesson. His hands are already curled into fists, ready to swing if the man hadn't moved by the time he arrived. Tolerating someone hitting on you was one thing, but blatantly ignoring the clear dismissals and laying a hand on you? No way in hell was he standing by and letting that happen.

The resounding crack of your open hand hitting the man’s face has pride swelling in Pierre’s chest. That’s my girl. You’d solved the problem before he’d even arrived. You jab a finger in the man’s face, Daniel’s girlfriend right there with you to back you up.

“Fuck off,” you were saying as Pierre approached, “or do you need to go back to kindergarten and learn to keep your hands to yourself? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before laying a hand on a taken woman- or any woman, for that matter.”

Driving your point home, Pierre slips an arm around your waist and pulls you in until your back is flush to his chest. You crane your neck up, the tense muscles beneath his fingertips and the fury contorting your features confirming just how rattled you are.

The lines creasing your brow are soothed away when you realize who holds you. You open your mouth to say something but Pierre places a hand on your throat, thumb and forefinger framing your jaw as he cuts you off with a kiss, his eyes locked on the guy still standing off to the side holding his cheek.

You taste like the champagne you’d been sipping all night. It’s the only thought in his head outside of the jealousy licking through his veins like wildfire as he claims you then and there in front of the crowd. Mine, his heart sings. He flexes his fingers, taking advantage of your surprised gasp to slide his tongue against yours. Mine, mine, mine.

Pierre lets you be the one to break away, lips curling in a smug, kiss-swollen smile as you address the men. “In case you still don’t get the picture, I’m not interested. And neither is she.” You jerk your chin, indicating your friend and Daniel, who had indeed followed Pierre and since mirrored his possessive stance, one arm wrapped tightly around his own girlfriend.

The two men reluctantly slink away after mumbling something unintelligible but undoubtedly indecent. It had been a week and a half since he had been on track and he had plenty of pent up aggression to get out. He didn’t normally opt for using someone’s face as a punching back as a stress reliever, but rulers were made to be broken. Your hand splayed on Pierre’s chest is all that stops him from following and asking them to repeat themselves.

“Just let me hit him,” Pierre says, voice far more level and put together than he had expected it to be. “Just one punch. That’s all I would need.” His knuckles smart like he had already connected them to the man’s face.

“And let you throw away your contract? I don’t think so. The last thing you need is a blurry photo of you knocking someone’s teeth in hitting the front page of every gossip mag in the country. I’m fine, so you can cut the bravado.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

“I was wondering how long you were gonna leave us out here,” you say, trying to regain Pierre’s attention. When it doesn’t work, you grasp his stubbled chin and force him to look at you. “I didn’t expect to be stranded for so long.”

The eye contact is what finally calms his racing thoughts. Seeing the trust reflected in your face is enough to have his grip on your waist loosening to allow you to face him. “Someone convinced me you could fend for yourself. And while it seems that’s true, I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

Your satisfied hum is swallowed by the pounding bass but Pierre feels it rumble in his chest. “Sometimes even a queen needs saving.”

Though his point had long since been proven, Pierre’s hand slides down your back to rest on your ass nonetheless. “I knew you going out looking like this would cause trouble.”

You tip your head to the side, feigning innocence as you press your hips to his. You grin, noticing the hard on that had been bothering him all night. “Looking like what?”

“Drop dead fucking gorgeous,” he says, accentuating his point by sliding his hand up your thigh and under the hem of your dress. “You know I’m tearing this off you the second we get home, right?”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

The sound that escapes him is primal and possessive. The presence of bystanders does nothing to prevent him from palming your ass and kneading the flesh. He presses his lips to your neck and mumbles between kisses, “To torture me.”

You push lightly at his chest, laughing although your eyes dart around the space in search of cameras. Old habits were hard to break. “That may have been part of my motivation. But you’ll have to wait. I haven’t seen Dan in forever and I would actually like to have a conversation with him before we sneak off somewhere.”

At least you knew he wouldn’t be able to wait until you got home to get between your legs. “Fine,” he grumbles, hands settling on your hips. “Only because I love you.”

You beam up at him. “Love you too.”

Arm still slung around your waist, Pierre nods at Daniel and follows the other couple back to the table.

After two more drinks, you and Daniel's girlfriend are singing along to the music in lilting, off key voices, simply enjoying the night air. A stray breeze catches your hair just as you turn to look at Pierre and his heart damn near leaps out of his chest.

To his credit, Pierre’s cheeks are rosy from more than just the charged glances you throw at him as the night wears on. He was on his fourth beer, far more than he usually drank these days, and the buzzing in his head was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. When he has to squint to tell the time on his watch, he figured that was enough.

"I should probably get going mate," Pierre says, turning to Daniel. "Early flight."

Daniel laughs and beacons for the girls. He kisses his girlfriend's cheek when she returns with you in tow. "Are we leaving already?" You pout, and Pierre had half a mind to stay simply have your smile make an encore appearance.

"Car coming," he murmurs, dipping his head to give you a proper kiss. God, you were stunning in that dress- he might not be able to string together words coherently, but he knew that much.

"Fine." You cross your arms for a split second to convey your feelings on the matter before wrapping your friends in a hug and saying your goodbyes.

Pierre's hand is already on your ass before you're in the uber. Get a few drinks in the boy and he let his guard down. You laugh and pull out of his embrace to usher him into the sleek black suv. If he had been coherent, he probably would have chatted with the driver about the specs of the engine or maybe even racing if he was a fan. Instead the ride is filled with stolen touches and sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.

"I can't wait till we're home," he mumbles. "You're gorgeous. How did I snag you? You're so far out of my league. No way should you be with me."

"I have a thing for guys that go fast in circles on the weekends."

"Really?" Pierre frowns. "Should I be worried?"

"No. You're the only one I have eyes for." His head is fuzzier than when you left the bar but your laugh breaks through, his stomach flipping at the melody of it. "And we are home."

Pierre blinks, realizing he does indeed stand in your kitchen, with no recollection of climbing the three flights of stairs between the street and your flat. "Oh. When did that happen?"

"After I half dragged you up the stairs." You bend over to undo the straps of your heels, giving him the perfect view. He lets out a whistle that ends in a hiccup.

"Take me to bed, lover," he says in what he thinks is a husky voice. It should be impossible for you to resist.

You roll your eyes and wrap an arm around his middle. "That's the plan. I'll take you to bed, strip you out of that sweater, and you'll be asleep before your head hits the pillow."

"Nnnnnno," he protests, hand sliding down your exposed back to settle at the base of your spine. "I wanna make the most of tonight. I leave tomorrow."

"You don't leave until noon," you point out. "Plenty of time to nurse your hangover and have fun before then, after you drink some water and get some sleep."

"But baby-"

"No buts. Do as I say or I'll send you off tomorrow without a goodbye kiss."

Even in his half drunken state he knew it was a swiss cheese lie, spotted with holes and completely stale. You'd never let him leave without a kiss goodbye because neither of you knew if it would be the last time. He was a race car driver after all, and that came with risks.

But he sighs anyways and slips off the cream sweater, letting it fall to the floor. At least one of you kept their promises.

After confirming he was settled into bed, you retreat to the bathroom. His heart aches at the absence, even though you're mere feet away with nothing but a thin door separating the two of you. He registers the sound of the tap turning on and your soft, off key humming of the last song he remembered hearing before getting out of the uber.

"Mon amour," he croons when you re-emerge in a set of silk pajamas. He reaches out his hands for you and you slide under the covers, immediately slotting your body against his. A leg hitches over his hip, tugging him closer until your middles touch.

"Mmm," he mumbles, nuzzling into your neck. "Je t'aime. Tu es l'amour de ma vie et nous vivons d'amour et d'eau fraîche."

"I have no idea what you're saying," you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. "But I like it. Feel free to keep going."

"Tes baisers sont du feu et je fond à ton toucher." He presses his lips to your neck before resuming his mumbled French. "Je pense toujours à toi. Je veux être avec toi pour toujours. Tu as mon cœur et je ne voudrais pas qu'il en soit autrement."

"I like the sound of that." You press a soft, sweet kiss to his forehead. God, that tenderness was why he loved you. That, and your personality, and your eyes, and your… everything. "Dormir, my love. I'll be here to listen to your pretty words in the morning."

The single word of his mother tongue on your lips has him smiling. "Oui, tu le feras. Parce que tu es à moi et je suis à toi."

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future updates!

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #my writing #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #f1 rpf #formula 1 rpf

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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 3 years

Text

Inferno dreams

Summary: A 23 year old girl gets the role she's been waiting to get for years. She didn't know until she got on set that she'll be working with her crush Chris. After weeks of growing clothes to each other and falling in love with out the other ones knowledge you and Chris finally express your feeling!

Chris Evans x female! Reader

Warning: fluff, friends to lover AU, implied smut

Masterlist | word count is 1.9k | Chris request are closed until I clean my inbox out | hope you all enjoy this |

Your heart is racing, palms are sweaty, legs are bouncing as you wait for that all important phone call. You've been waiting your whole life to be an actress. Many years of watching your idols on screen and learning from them how to be a good actor was going to be put to the test today.

After what felt like years your phone rang. You jumped at the sound, quickly picking up the phone. You waited a couple of seconds so that it didn't look as if you were desperate before you picked up the phone.

"Hello." You sounded like you haven't talked in years as you said hello. "Hi, is this y/n?" The voice behind the phone asked. You cleared your throat before you answered yes. There was a brief silence before you heard the voice again. "We'll Miss. Y/l/n you got the role."

You gasped, your hand coming to cover your mouth. "Oh my gosh. No freakin way." The guy on the phone laughed. "Yep you got the role; they're going to need you on set in three days so you can start filming."

You stopped freaking out to say okay, thank you and to hang up the phone. As the call ended you let out a squeal of excitement. You got the role, you finally were an actress.

You felt like crying and screaming at the same time. There were no words to describe how you felt in that moment.

Those three days passed bye with flying colors. On the third day you got up nice and early wanting to look like a million bucks. You ate breakfast, had a nice long shower, did light make-up, and dressed up in some pretty decent clothes. You packed a few clothes because you'll be spending about two month on set.

You left your home around 10am, driving to your new job. The music was cranked up in your car despite it being beginning so early. If people saw you they would've thought you were crazy. You were just super excited.

You arrived on set about an hour later. You parked Your car and got out to grab your luggage. As soon as you shut the trunk a smiling woman with brown hair and a clipboard in her hands, came up beside you. You smiled at her a little confused. "Hi."

"Hi y/l/n, I'm Maria and I'm going to be your assistant. I'll be showing you around and things. Would you like to see your trailer?" She asked in a sweet voice. "You nodded while picking up your two bags. "Lead the way."

Maria led the way to your trailer. When you arrived she opened the door for you and let you walk in. "I'll be back in about an hour so we can go on set and meet the director. Your script is on the couch so you can read it. If you need anything you can just call me."

Maria smiled before she waved bye to you. She shut the trailer door and you took a seat on the couch with a huff. I'm finally here you thought to yourself. You smiled as you picked up the script flipping through the pages. This was going to be fun, you just knew it.

You've been reading your script over for an hour when you heard a knock on the door. You rose from the couch and opened the door to see Maria. "Time to go."

You nodded before you stepped out of the trailer and followed her. You both walked a short way to the main set and entered. The place was buzzing with people, it kinda made you nervous but you kept following Marie.

"Here's the director, steven." Maria stopped in front of a man who was talking to someone else. "Oh my lead actress y/n, it's nice to meet you." He stuck out his hand and you happily shook it. "Hi."

Steven looked over his shoulder flagging someone down. "Y/n I'll like you to meet Chris." You turned to look at Chris who you thought was just a random guy, but when you saw that it was Chris Evans, you gasped slightly. Luckily he didn't catch that and stuck out his hand. "Hi y/n, I heard so much about you."

Holy shit! He knows your name… stay cool.

"Hi Chris." Your hand stayed enveloped for longer than needed which made you pull away as you felt your face heat up. You turned to Maria seeing her smiling, her lips pressed together. She definitely saw what was blossoming.

"Well set starts in a few minutes. While we wait you two can get to know each other. Steven and Maria walked away leaving you two alone. You placed your hand in your pocket, looking down at your feet. "It's very nice to meet you." You Mumbled as you looked up at him before looking back down at your feet. Chris smiled seeing how shy you were. "It's nice to meet you two y/n. I heard this is your first time acting, that's very exciting."

You laughed, "yeah, it is. I've been waiting to be an actress for a while now." Chris nodded, "well you're here."

You and Chris talked for a while. You both talked like you've known each other for years. Your shyness soon faded and you were full on talking to him.

Chris was already liking you. Your laugh made him smile harder than he was before, Your voice was soothing, everything about you made him feel good. He wasn't going to deny his crush that was growing. He's never felt this way about a woman.

Set was soon called and you and Chris soon started acting together. You loved Chris's acting just as much as he liked yours. Your chemistry was felt by everyone on set, Steven was quite happy about that too.

Around 10pm, after many hours of working, the set was done for the day. You left to go to your trailer. You didn't notice at first but Chris' trailer was beside yours and he was waiting to tell you goodnight.

When you saw him you smiled. "Hi Chris."

He smiled as he stood up from his trailer steps. "Hi y/n. Um I just wanted to say goodnight to you." He walked up to you placing his hand on your shoulder. "You chuckled softly as you looked at him. "Well goodnight to you too."

Chris winked at you before he walked off to go in his trailer. You did the same. Once you were in your trailer you plopped yourself in the bed with a smile. Yep, this was fun.

As the weeks went on you and Chris grew closer and closer to each other. He took you out for breakfast and lunch some days, he always helped you with your script, and he always said goodnight to you. You were falling more and more in love with him every second and it was getting to the point where it was hard to keep it in.

Chris felt the same way. He couldn't help but tell his family about you. He was always so energized when he spoke about you; everyone knew it was a matter of time before he asked you out.

Scott always teased Chris about it which pissed Chris off but he knew he deserved it for not telling you how he felt

You were sitting on the steps of your trailer after a night of filming. Chris was just returning when he saw you. "Hi y/n! Whatcha doing?" He came and sat down beside you. "I can't go to sleep." You said as you looked at him.

Chris nodded, "yeah there's days like that."

The both of you stayed silent for a second before you spoke. "Do you want to go inside my trailer and watch some disney classics?"

Chris eyes widened at your proposal. "Sure." You smiled before you got up and opened the door for you and Chris to walk in. You grabbed your laptop and sat down on the over size bed. Chris stood like a lost puppy, not quite sure what to do. You patted the space beside you, "come on sit."

Chris did as you said, sitting beside you. You started up your disney plus and you and Chris debated on what you'll want to watch. After a couple minutes you both settled on Lilo and Stitch. The movie played quietly as you both laid and watched.

Throughout the whole movie you felt Chris glancing over at you. It made you flustered and shy like the first day you met him. You tried your best to ignore him.

An hour later later the movie ended. "Wow that's great like it was when I was little. What do you think ch-," you stopped mid sentence when you saw Chris out.

You felt kinda guilty that you brought him over. He was probably tired and still decided to keep you company. Saint was the world to describe him.

You hopped out of bed and placed your laptop on the floor near your luggage. After that you grabbed a throw blanket and draped it over Chris before you crawled in bed and got under the blanket. You kept your distance from him the whole night thinking he wanted it but Chris didn't.

The next morning when you woke up, Your head was buried in his chest and his bulky arms were wrapped around your waist. You frowned as I tried to figure out how you got there. Chris stirred awake as you did. He was very aware you were in his arms.

"Good morning y/n." His morning voice was raspy sending shivers down your spine. "Good morning Chris." Chris chuckled as he looked down at you. You smiled softly at him. Before you could even think straight you placed your lips on his. God they were as soft as you imagined they'll be.

Chris couldn't help slip his tongue in your mouth. You moaned softly as you cupped his face. The kiss got heated, so heated the clothes were stripped off and love making was made. His body against your body, his moans mixed with yours, and his burning desire to pleasure you was too much to comprehend. He made you feel so good, like you were the only woman in the world. He didn't stop until he pleased you like you should be pleased.

When you both were done he laid down beside you chest rising and falling. You looked over at him seeing a messy haired Chris. "That's so good. I- I have no words."

Chris chuckled as he looked at you. His massive hands came to cup your cheek. "I wanted to do that for a while now." You smiled as he continued. "I wanted to show you how I felt about you, how happy you make me, and how these past few weeks you changed me." Chris ran his thumb over your cheek bone, looking at you with his baby blue eyes.

"Yeah I've been wanting to do that too." You ran your fingers in circles over his chest as you tried not to get nervous.

"Y/n." You looked back up at Chris's eyes. "Yes?"

"I was wondering if you'd be my girlfriend?" He said looking at you. You laughed, "of course you don't even have to ask." You leaned in and kissed him with a squeal.

You never thought in a million years you would be kissing the one and only Chris Evans but you were a damn you were so happy about it.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

I'm working on two request rn!

@chris-butt @princess-evans-addict @patzammit @bval-1 @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @raveviolet @rynabarnesrogers-reading @enn-j @london-dreamer71 @harrysthiccthighss @captainamerica-is-bae @la-cey @weirdowithnobeardo @lovepeacefood @baby-i-am-fireproof @denisemarieangelina @evans713 @smyfmj @thereisa8ella @rororo06 @keiva1000 @ughitsnic @adriannajackson123 @marvelnaturalock @notyourtypicalrose @dummiesshort @onetwo3000 @hhiggs @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @a-little-counter-esperanto

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagines #chris evans smut #chris evans x plus size reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x black reader

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cullen-collective · 3 years

Note

do it. write it. do it

Say. Less.

There’s never anyone actually interesting in these chats.

There’s me, who actually wants to discuss music, the way it feels, the lyrics’ poetic meanings, the way the drums crash like they’re my own heartbeat. And then there’s guys who might want to discuss that, but are probably here for the other occupants of the forum: girls obsessed with band members. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against them, and I fully understand geeking out over Pete Wentz (although I’ve always been more of a Stump girl) or Gerard Way or even Chester Bennington. I just keep having to switch to new forums when it’s clear that no one else wants to talk about the music, but instead have guys who claim to look like Adam Lazarra scam the email addresses and photos off those girls.

Which brings me here, to another new forum chat, scrolling through older posts about who drums harder: Travis Barker or Mike Kinsella, as the chat scrolls by on the right side of the screen. I was mindlessly scrolling, mentally agreeing or disparaging the opinions of other posters, too scared to comment. This site was pretty neat, and the account I’d had to create to post comments and chat had spaces for a list of my favorites, which I’d happily included. It also had a little bio, which I’d filled in with my name and age, as well as one of my favorite lyrics.

I kept one eye on the chat as it went, keeping up with the current discussion of how best to cut your bangs. I typed up a quick note that the best way to cut your bangs was to see a local hairdresser so you didn’t end up with Buffy season three bangs instead of the side-sweep you wanted.

Emo-ward: But is it really, truly in the spirit of punk rock if you don’t cut them yourself?

HellsBells: I think to be a real punk, you’d probably need to like different bands. To be alt, you can visit a salon or resign yourself to botched hair.

Emo-ward: Seems like the majority is going to choose the second option.

HellsBells: Well, sometimes we must suffer for the cause.

Emo-Ward wants to send you a private message. Accept. Decline.

I was stunned. No one ever requested me. My cursor hovered over “Accept”, my finger twitching. My mother, as scattered as she was, had always warned me about being too open online. What if this was like, a forty-five year old man who preyed on kids in chat rooms? What if it was a serial killer? What if it was someone from school trying to humiliate me? What if it was a kid from school who wanted to humiliate me and also did a little serial killing on the side?

Okay, I was being ridiculous. I knew nothing about this person. Hell, I hadn’t even looked at their profile. So I right-clicked the name in the chat and opened another window to his profile. Like mine, the profile had no picture, and instead had a graphic. It was Gerard Way but his hair had been edited to be bright green. I snorted, remembering my own, which was Britney Spears edited with a scene girl haircut that this chick in my Western Civ class had emailed to me as a joke after seeing the Ataris CD in my portable player. The name listed was Edward, the age as 16, and he had a lyric on his profile too.

“Watching from the floor.”

I recognized it, small as it was. It was from “Dear Maria, Count Me In”. I was a little surprised. Great song choice.

It seemed he wasn’t too sketchy.

I went back to the original page, steeled my nerves and hit “Accept.”

Emo-ward: Do you really have time in your veins?

My tongue pressed to the inside of my cheek. If this really was a sixteen-year-old boy, I was in trouble. He had just referenced the lyric in my bio, (from “Understanding In A Car Crash”: “It starts and stops and starts and stops again.”) and made it a joke. I had to one-up him.

HellsBells: Yes. I am also a pen.

Emo-ward: Where are you from, girl with time in her veins who is somehow also a pen?

I smiled at my screen. I couldn’t help it. He was kind of funny.

HellsBells: Forgive me, sir, if I’m not very specific. I’m from the Southwest. You?

Emo-ward: Well, miss, I will follow suit. I’m from the Northwest.

There was something about the way he wrote that made me want to trust him. Maybe it was that we had similar chat styles. Although… My mother had always said I talked like I was sixty. What if he was sixty?! Edward is an old man's name.

HellsBells: You kind of talk like an old guy, you know that, right?

Emo-ward: That’s because I’m 104.

HellsBells: Wow. You use the internet pretty well for a senior citizen.

Emo-ward: They had us take a class. So, what’s your favorite album right now?

I smiled. Funny, and hopefully not an old guy.

HellsBells: Will you stop talking to me if I say Take This to Your Grave?

Emo-ward: Only if you stop talking to me for saying mine is Meteora.

HellsBells: Only if you tell me your favorite song off the album is Numb. That’s where I draw the line.

Emo-ward: While that song isn’t my favorite, it’s pretty good. Anyway, the actual favorite is Somewhere I Belong.

I thought about that for a minute. I liked that song, but I hadn’t listened to it a lot. I’d have to give it another go. I had Meteora around here somewhere. I found the album in my bookshelf, put it in my portable player, and put the headphones on. I skipped to the right track, and let it play while I answered.

HellsBells: Not that you asked, but mine is Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes.

Emo-ward: Aggressive. I like it.

I burst out laughing. Out loud. In my house. On a school night. At eleven.

“Bella?” my mom called from across the hall. “Are you on the computer?”

Shit. “Uh… no?”

I heard Mom start giggling. “Go to bed, kid!”

“Okay!” I grimaced at the screen. No way I was ever going to hear from this guy again. But… I had to try, right? He was funny, and he had great taste in music.

HellsBells: Well, grandpa, if you can get the orderlies at the nursing home to let you use the computer on Friday, I’ll be here. Until then, I’m not an adult and have to deal with things like school nights.

Emo-ward: I’m sorry about that. I never sleep, so my school nights are exactly like regular nights. I’ll be here.

I shook my head at that, holding in a giant smile. You know what, fuck it, I let the smile loose. It wasn’t like he could see me. And I let “Somewhere I Belong” play on repeat until I fell asleep.

#twilight #the twilight saga #edward cullen #bella swan #fic #my writing #thanks so much for the permission #like for part two

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nestatargaryen · 3 years

Text

However Long It Takes || Mob!Tom Holland

Warnings : Language, talk of sex, (English isn’t my first language)

Tom Holland x Reader

Part 3 of Brothers Don’t Stab Each Other

Part 2

***

It's 3 a.m. and you can't sleep, Tom was still outside.

You rolled to your back and huffed. You mumbled to yourself. "Man up bitch, get a grip." You were jumping and slap yourself a little. Trying to collect some courage left in your chicken soul.

"You can do this."

You opened the door carefully. The Holland-Osterfield house are big, like crazy big, you saw your right and left, no one is up.

of course you dumbfuck, it's 3 a.m.

You walked around, trying to find the whereabouts of Tom, the only couch available in this place would be the living room's couch. It was a massive set, all of you usually hang around there for movie night and stuff.

You don't understand why he chose to sleep on the couch when he could be sleeping in the guest room, there are at least 5 empty room in this house. You were shocked when you saw his house for the first time. Completely jaw dropped.

Before you met him, you could never imagined being able to witness something as astounding as his house. But now... you’ve lived in this place almost a year after he forced you to move from your old apartment.

Which he bought for you after you and him gets serious. You already rented the apartment for 2 years but Tom wanted it to be yours, so he bought it. The apartment was now empty but every week someone goes there to clean it.

Then you saw him, laying on the big couch hand on top of his face, his body facing at the big screen in front of the couch. Seemed like he was asleep after watching.. whatever he was watching at.

You tip toed to his place, he was watching at...

news...

PFFTTT, Boringggg... You laughed inside yourself.

You walked to him, slowly poking his thigh.

he didn't budge, but something suddenly out of nowhere nudged to your legs.

You almost screamed but finally huffed when you saw Tessa, you put your finger in front of your lips and whispered, "Tom is being grumpy baby, Tess, we don't want to wake him up."

As if understand, Tessa moved to the other couch after you rubbed her head and silently sleep there.

Now you're back facing Tom. You huffed. The couch was wide enough, he chose the widest couch to sleep at. You sat at the empty place infront his stomach, then lay there and try to find a good comfortable spot.

"What are you doing?"

His voice was deeper and raspier than his usual voice. You were surprised and almost fell from the couch, but Tom held your head and back. "Careful."

"I thought you were sleeping." You said once you're back to the universe. Tom said no words and let go of you, slightly pushing you off him.

But you were quick, You chained your leg to him, hugging him like a koala.

"I can't sleep," you pouted.

Truth to be told, Tom can't sleep either. He was trying so hard not to walk himself back to your shared room. But he was too adamant that you should be the one reach for him. He wanted you to need him.

He was so frustated and almost ran to his bedroom, eager to cuddle woth you.

He scolded himself when he heard small steps. Definitely your steps, or maybe intruders. But the first one is more likely since there are dozens of guards spread across the mansion.

He felt your finger poking him and he almost laugh at house cute you are. But he's mad. Or is he?

"Why don't you find Harrison," he said emotionless. trying so hard to sound mad.

He's still mad, you huffed, burying the thought to cuddle with him, you thought about retreating to your room.

"Fine, good night, Tom," You said trying so hard not to sound shaken. You pursed your lips, holding your tears, as you shifted your legs, untangling them.

Tom suddenly pulled you closer, his left hand pinned your right leg on his hip. "Are you really going to Harrison? Unbelievable." He scolded you.

You shook your head no, not trusting your own voice to say the word. Sometimes you hate yourself for being such a baby. You nudged your head to his chest trying to find more warmth.

He held you closer, mumbled to your hair, "then why did you wanted to leave me, hmm?" His hands rubbing your back. He wanted to be angry but you're all softie like this. How could he?

"I don't want you to be mad even more," Your lips shaking against his chest. He caressed your hair, he knew he shouldn't be mad at you, he was just... jealous..

There is no way, he would let any other man, touch you the way he wanted to. Not now, not ever.

Unless, I'm dead all of a sudden. Chances are small though.

"I just want you to get the best of me," Tom frowned, pulling his body back, looking down trying to see your now teary eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"I know you had exes and they are bombass hot, model figure, and i knew you guys did that mm.." you sigh, disappointed to yourself, not even capable of saying the word sex.

What are you? A Nun?!

"So?" Tom was extremely confused.

"It's been almost a year since we date, and we never, do it.."

Tom raised his eyebrows, still not getting what your point is.

"Youhaventhadsexinayear and I'm afraid when we finally do it you will feel less satisfied because I'm an amateur."

Tom blinked.

"Unless.. unless you found yourself in someone eles's bed.." your voice become smaller.

There was a quiet moment before Tom said, "You do realize I have two perfectly functioned hands right?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, not getting it.

"You know?" Then Tom gestured it, with his hand, as if holding something and shake his hand in the air.

"Oh..."

He shifted himself. His back on the couch then lift your body up against him, pulling your head to his chest, caressing your hear. You hugged him. You can hear his heartbeat, "It's different than sex I know, but I'll thrive. I didn't date you only to have sex with you. You are much more than that. You should know that."

You moved your hands to hug his neck, moving up so you can nudge your face in his neck, your favorite spot.

he brushed your hair and his other hand hair rubbed your back.

"I'm not a saint, Y/n. There are so many things I want to do with you."

"To do to you," He whispered softly. Making your ears all red. He chuckled.

"But I'm willing to wait for you."

His thumb brushed across her tear-stained cheek. Then your lips.

"However long it takes."

You hummed, body slumped to his. You loved the smell of him, inhaling his scent while indulging yourself to his warmth.

"What did you do to, Haz?"

"Wow, you really know how to ruin the mood." he scoffed but still sofly caressed your hair.

You stared at him demanding an answer. Lips pouting with puppy eyes.

Tom rolled his eyes, "Finee, I was the crazy bitch who almost shoot him in the face and accidentally tripped him."

“Didn’t matter though. We used to punched each other for fun when we were kids.”

You laughed, yawning and mumbling, poor Haz,

"I love you, Tom. A lot," you were drifting to sleep while Tom kissed your forehead, hands didn't stop brushing your hair. His heartbeat lulled you to sleep.

"I love you too. More than I thought I was capable of. And it scares me sometimes."

You hummed, not getting a single word through your head.

#tom holland fanfiction #peter parker angst #tom holland x reader #mob tom holland #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom #tom holland angst #mob!tom

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belphies-cuhm-sluht · 3 years

Text

RuneDate (Belphie x GN!Reader)

3.1K Words

(Went all in on the runescape fic... Whoops!)

“I can’t believe you decided to go visit your family right before a fucking pandemic hit.” Belphie groaned into his phone. It had only been a week then since it had started and he was already complaining. You could only laugh in response, reiterating what the news reporters and the doctors on the tv had said.

“Only one more week. Fourteen days tops, and then I’ll be back down there with you.” You said cheerfully, your feet swinging back and forth in the air. You always acted this way when you talked to him, and he talked to you on the phone every night since you had been up in the human world, so this is how you spent most of your evenings. You loved the sound of his voice, it always made you smile, and you’d find yourself getting flustered, even if he wasn’t trying to get you that way.

“It better only be one more week. I… I mi-.... My bed is really empty, okay. So just, hurry up.” He grumbled, and you were sure that if you could see him his cheeks would be a bright shade of red, his face now buried in his pillow to hide his embarrassment as if you could actually see him through the phone.

“Mmhm… I’ll see you by the end of next week, alright. Get some sleep. Goodnight.” You hadn’t been able to hide the fact that you were laughing. He tried so hard to cover up just how cute he could be, but he wasn’t very good at doing it. He mumbled a quiet goodnight before hanging up the phone. You couldn’t wait to see him again, and this next week couldn’t go fast enough so you could finally be in his arms again.

Morning came, the same as it always did. The birds outside singing and dogs in the distance barking at whatever passed by. You groaned quietly, grabbing your pillow from underneath your head and holding it over your face, trying to block out the sunlight that streamed through, but the buzzing of your phone beside you had your eyes opening slightly, reaching out to grab it and answer the call.

“It’s too early, Belphie.” You were exhausted even though you hadn’t really done much the day before, but your sleep schedule was a wreck and waking up at 8 in the morning meant that you had only gotten four hours of sleep and you desperately wanted more.

“Hmph. You’re not going to bed at a good time. Plus, I haven’t been able to sleep either.” It was a constant complaint of his, one that’s become expected, not that it was your fault, and he didn’t blame you for it… But you did hear about it a lot. “Let me guess… Just one more week, right?” He mocked the words that you had said over a year ago. You could hear the annoyance in his voice, and you’ve explained to him multiple times that it wasn’t your fault, humans were just selfish and stupid, and he didn’t disagree with you at all.

“I wish. I miss you… Maybe I can’t sleep because I’m not with you.” You heard him scoff on his end of the phone, and then the rustling of his sheets as he got out of bed. It’s like you could almost see him if you closed your eyes and listened close enough. He was on his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth, the sound of the floorboards that creaked beneath his feet were distinct and made it clear that that’s where he was going.

“Oh please…” He mumbled around his toothbrush, and while most would be annoyed with him talking while doing it, to you it just made things seem a little bit more normal. He would always try to talk to you from the bathroom while he brushed his teeth, and you could see it now, the toothpaste dripping from the corners of his mouth that you’d roll your eyes at but quickly throw him a rag for before it got on his clothes. “You never went to bed at a decent time down here either. You always wanted to stay up and watch horror movies, I had to practically put your ass to sleep.” He let out a low chuckle before spitting into the sink and then rinsing his toothbrush off. “I have an idea.”

“Oh? What is it?” You sat up in bed, intrigued by whatever his idea could possibly be. You knew that he wasn’t going to sneak up and spend the night with you, as much as you wanted him to. Diavolo was put off by the idea of anyone coming or going from the Devildom, he didn’t know if demons could catch the virus, and he wasn’t going to risk catching it himself.

“You ever play runescape? I know it’s an old game… but… It can be like a date… or something…” He quickly swigged the mouthwash, definitely trying to hide the fact that, again, he was flustered by his own words. God, if he got any cuter your heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“A runescape date. Yeah… that sounds really fun. Tonight then?” You were already pushing yourself off your bed and going over to your computer, quickly signing up and downloading the game for later. It had been so long since you’ve actually played it, and even if it was slightly confusing and you were, on a stat level, an absolute fucking nooby… it would be fun, because you were playing it with him.

“Tonight. And uh… maybe I can teach you how to fish… I’m really good at fishing. I just reached level 98.” And honestly, that was the hottest fucking thing you’ve heard him say in a while. Like… level 98 fishing in runescape. Fuck! You really just wanted to see him fish at this point, but you’d have to wait until later.

“You’re gonna have to teach me a lot of things… It’s been a while.” You were talking about the game, and you knew that he knew you were talking about the game, and you were pretty sure that you hadn’t sounded seductive or hinted at anything sexual, but Belphie was… well… Belphie, and he knew how to turn things in that direction quite easily, and he knew that it would have you stuttering a little and it was like he lived just to fluster you at the most random moments.

“It’s been too long, but I’ll teach you a lot of new things once I have you back here.” You hated him… you adored him but you hated him. You both knew that you couldn’t do anything about the feelings that he had purposely made you feel right now, but he loved teasing you, just to get you back for all the times you teased him over text. He cleared his throat, and you could hear him walking back out into the bedroom. “Alright well, I’ll call you later. Can’t wait for our date tonight.” He chuckled softly, knowing that he was basically blue balling you at this point, but you’d also get him back for it, you just needed to think of how. He quickly hung up before you could say anything else, and you knew that he was laughing his way all the way back to his bed where he’d lay back down and probably pass out for the next hour or so. At least it gave you time to finish the tutorial and try to get the hang of the basics.

You didn’t know what the hell you were doing, and that was an understatement. You spent hours wandering around the map, accidentally starting fights with random NPC’s and big ass rats which you’d run away from immediately because you weren’t about to die, you wouldn’t let that happen to yourself. You tried to get the hang of fishing, which… props to Belphie… you didn’t understand it. You weren’t catching shit, and the couple times that you did, it was nothing but shrimp. An entire ocean full of bottom feeders, which wasn’t a problem, aside from the fact that your pockets were filled to the brim with shrimp… that you tried to cook but you aren’t very good at that… so then it just became filled with burnt shrimp that you couldn’t eat and you didn’t know how to drop either.

By the time the date rolled around… you weren’t any better off than you were when you first started. You only went up like one level in fishing and you weren’t even sure how that happened, but it took about five hours. Your stats were a solid 0 on everything else, and you were still stacked with burnt shrimp… so all in all things were going great in the game and you hadn’t died yet.

“Alright so… you have to add me first…” He said, and he honestly had the patience of a saint because, like everything else in the game, you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing. “Do you know how to do that?” He asked after a couple seconds in which you were staring at the screen and trying to figure out what to push to add him.

“Nope…” And as much as you tried to laugh it off, you felt like a freaking idiot. He chuckled lightly, guiding you through what should have been the easiest task. Once you had added him, man you felt so cool. You did that… with help… but you did that.

“Okay, now… you have to do the spell to get you to the castle. It’s like the teleport thing… it was in the tutorial.” The tutorial, that you had already almost completely forgotten about… except the part where you made bread. For some reason that really stuck with you. “The spell book, it should be on the left side… do you see it?”

“Oh… OH! Yeah I see it!” Finding the spell book was simple, but figuring out how to actually teleport was so confusing for some reason. You realized that triple clicking was, in fact, not helping at all. You only needed to click once and then your character would go through the motions and then they’d teleport. “OH I got it! Okay… coming to the castle… okay… Oh I’m here!”

“There you are! You’re doing great. Okay… now just… first we’re gonna go to the bank and you can put all your stuff in there. So just… follow me. Do you know how to do that?” No, no you did not… but you said that you did because you didn’t want to seem like more of an idiot than you already felt. He already knew that you didn’t though, apparently the fact that you didn’t know how to use your magic or how to add a friend made it pretty clear that you wouldn’t know how to follow his character, so he quickly ran down how to do that too, which was such a big help, he doesn’t even know. “Alright, and when you get to the stairs, you’re gonna have to click that you want to go up.”

“Right… the stairs… got it!” The fact that you wanted to clap for yourself when you successfully went up the stairs just goes to show how much you don’t understand about the game. “Okay… I’m at the top… Oh wait, I have to follow you again… Okay… Okay I got it.” The fact that he wasn’t annoyed yet was shocking, and you constantly felt the need to apologize for being so clueless about what to do. You were glad to know that he couldn’t hear the constant clicking of your mouse as you tried to figure out where exactly to click to actually do something. “Alright… my bag is empty… now what….”

“You have to keep your sword and your shield… just those two… the sword and the shield. And then I’m gonna trade with you… You’re gonna need a lot of food, and I need to get rid of these lobsters.” You nodded to yourself, quickly putting the sword and shield back before closing the window and facing his character again. You didn’t know how trading worked at all, you didn’t know if a window was supposed to show up or what… but you waited, and even if you felt like a complete fool, just being able to spend with him like this, it made you happy and even if he couldn’t see you, you were smiling the entire time.

Once you finally figured out how to trade and you were stocked with lobsters, that’s when the real fun began. “Okay… now you’re ready. Do you want to fight the goblins or the cows?” You paused for a second, and you really had to think about it for a second. Cows or goblins…? You didn’t want to fight the goblins because you just assumed that they would be stronger (even though after playing for a bit and raising your own level you realized that they were the same strength as a fucking cow… weak ass goblins), but you really didn’t want to fight the cows… for obvious reasons, but you just assumed they’d be weaker, so you chose them anyway.

“So I just… I just click on the cow?” You asked after he led you to the little gated off area with the cows, and he hummed in agreement, standing back a little as you found the “right” cow to start fighting. “And this’ll raise my strength?”

“Yeah, but you should probably work at your shield first so… try changing your attack…” And there it was again… something you didn’t know how to do, which, again, he knew very well that you didn’t know how to do it. “Alright, you see the swords on the left side of the screen? The little button with the swords? Click that… and then change your attack mode to the one for shielding….” As if you’d know which one that is, but you were gonna wing it and hope that you picked the right one. You knew that he wouldn’t judge you for not knowing, at least not to your face.

The amount of damage that these cows delivered almost made you not feel bad for absolutely beating the shit out of them with the weak ass beginners sword that you had. “Oh my… fuck… do you hear my button clicking?” You asked while rapidly smashing the button on your mouse. You hoped he didn’t, but god, even to you it sounded loud and you had earphones on. “It just keeps doing damage to me but I can’t fucking hit it?!”

“Your stats aren’t high enough yet.” He said in between his laughter. If Levi was there he’d definitely be judging you right now. You were getting your ass handed to you by a fucking level 2 cow, how ridiculous is that?! “Just raise your shield more and then you can choose another attack method to raise your strength. You should at least get them all to five.” Five was a pretty high number to aim for considering you were only getting like 2xp everytime you even hit the cow, but, even if it took forever, you’d have him there with you.

It turned into the both of you just shooting the shit while you went around and murdered every single cow, occasionally being prompted by Belphie to eat a lobster before you die… and you probably should have used the wicked sweet one liner of “wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gotten killed by a cow”, but you were too busy to think of it while killing the cows yourself. You were too busy talking and rapidly clicking at the cow to realize that your health was low, and before you knew it you were dealing with death, who is legitimately the most annoying, talkative fucking character in the game.

“Oh shit… you died?”

“Yeah and Death won’t shut up. He just… oh my god… shut up.” You whined softly, much to Belphies amusement. Every time you tried to leave Deaths weird ass portal cave he kept calling you back to tell you more which only annoyed you further, which in turn had Belphie laughing which was your favorite sound aside from his actual talking… so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

“I told you to eat the lobsters. That’s why I gave them to you.” He was still laughing as he told you the reasoning behind the lobster trade, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. You hadn’t had this much fun since you were actually down in the Devildom with him.

“I'm gonna fuck these cows up.”

“And eat the lobsters while doing it.” He added, which made you snort quietly… even though he heard it and proceeded to laugh even more. You had never heard him laugh so much, and as much as you hated the fact that you couldn’t be there with him in person to see him, you still got to hear him laugh, which was the most you could ask for at this point.

Neither of you had realized how long you had been playing until you heard Beel come in the room through Belphies mic, clearly scaring him because you could hear the sharp gasp and then the quiet mumble of “fucking Beel…” before he actually acknowledged his twin.

“Ah shit… Hey, Beel wants to go get some Akudonalds…” Belphie said, and while you knew that you couldn’t stay in a call or play the game forever, it was always hard whenever the calls ended for the night. “Keep playing though… level up more…”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll get on your level.” You teased, and you heard him scoff again and you were pretty sure he rolled his eyes. He and you both knew that even making it halfway to his level would take forever, but if it meant being able to play with him again, you’d do your best to get halfway to halfway there. “I’ll talk to you later…”

“Well duh… I’m not leaving forever, dork. I’m going to get some chicken nuggets. I’ll text you when I get back.” He sighed softly. “We’ll have to do this again though… And try to go to bed at a decent hour. Please. I’ll visit you in your dreams if you do-”

“I’m hanging up now and going to bed! I’ll be asleep by the time you get back with your nuggets! Goodnight!” You quickly hung up, and just as you were about to close everything out on your computer and actually go to bed, you saw him typing.

“You’re such a dork… I’ll be there soon. Goodnight 💙”

#obey me #obey me! swd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #om! shall we date #om!#obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me x reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x mc #obey me Belphegor #obey me Belphie #obey me Belphegor x reader #obey me Belphie x reader #obey me Belphegor x mc #obey me Belphie x mc #belphegor avatar of sloth

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dinopopduck · 3 years

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Ezekiel Only Being Unaffected By Certain Kinds of Magic

Let’s just start with me saying this isn’t exactly a new theory. It’s the demigod thing, and it’s a fairly popular one. If you haven’t heard of this headcannon, I put as much as I can find here. If you have, I found a bunch of new stuff that I haven’t seen anyone else mention, so reading this isn’t a complete waste of your time, I hope.

I tried to keep this from becoming wordy, but it got really long anyway, because there was a lot to talk about here.

Ezekiel being unaffected by magic is sort of an ongoing thing in the show. He is influenced by it much of the time, such as by Santa’s Hat, Pan’s Flute, Prospero’s spell, lycanthropy, etc. When it comes to the stuff he was seemingly completely immune to, there is one link that connects them all.

Apple of Discord: Everybody knows this one. The Apple is a Greek artifact, meant to turn you into the worst version of yourself, and Ezekiel was only one completely unaffected. It’s blamed on “he’s already the worst version of himself” or whatever.

Zeus Lightning Bolt: the episode where Ezekiel ends up decked out in Greek armor, and is sent to pick up Zeus’ Lightning Bolt, which was freaking out and zapping everywhere. He picks it up just fine, and he’s then able to hand it off to Flynn. It may have been purely because of the Greek armor he was wearing, but Flynn did not seem so sure about that working.

Cindy’s Love Potion: Ezekiel is able to be near the potion without becoming obsessed with Cindy. At first, it’s blamed on him being obsessed with himself, then later Jacob tells Ezekiel that he was already in love with Cindy. It was an obsession, not a love, potion you literally spent the episode proving that blah blah, he didn’t even recognize her at first blah blah, anyway, I have a better reason.

There are two Greek mentions in this episode. First, the potion project itself is called Project Aphrodite, a Greek goddess. Second, the sunflowers; when asked, Jenkins mentions how sunflowers are a Greek symbol of unrequited love. In addition, “love” potions may have originated in Greece, or at the very least, were common enough to have multiple sites claim that, lol. At the end of the season, where each librarian uses their gifts to turn Apep mortal, this greek potion is what Ezekiel ends up using.

See a pattern here? Everything that he was completely unaffected by was Greek in some way. So, he has an immunity to these kinds of artifacts, but why? I vote demigod.

Anyway, moving on.

Here’s some magic he could have been immune to, or could not have been. Its pretty debatable.

Fortuna: Technically a Roman Goddess, but the show does acknowledge how similar they are to Greek Gods. He may have been affected by the spell, but broke out of it pretty quick. Some think he may not been affected at all; slot machines aren’t exactly fair, especially in a casino that exists to cheat completely. As for Ezekiel getting so upset over losing, what he says, “Not the guy that loses, I’m the guy that wins” sounds very similar to what he was saying in Point of Salvation, but that’s a whole nother topic.

Alternately, he was affected and this point shouldn’t be here. I don’t know, I’m not the writers.

Libris Fabula: He was a little bit affected, just far less than the others, as he acted pretty much the same. He did get a barely noticeable clothing change, became luckier than normal, and was just able to cast a spell for some reason? Speaking out that spell, it froze the guy, and a certain Greek God does have the ability to put people to sleep. Not really the same thing, but worth thinking about. Maybe. More on that later.

Most people think he was immune, but he could have just been similar enough to the character he was portraying that he didn’t need to change a whole lot.

These ones are barely worth mentioning, because have other reasonable (though I guess your definition of reasonable may be different from mine) explanations, but you could see them as magic immunity as well:

Silver Screen: Ezekiel gets into character the least, while Cassandra and Jacob are out singing and calling people by their character names. Maybe less affected, maybe just a spoilsport. Probably the last one.

Point of Salvation: Was the only one able to remember previous loops. Since they were in a video game, it’s explained that since he was the first through the door, he became the player while everyone else became NPCs. I mean, sure.

Christmas Thief: Saint of Thieves only used his truth telly power on Ezekiel’s mother, not him. Ezekiel did not feel obligated to say anything. Could just be that the guy wasn’t talking to Ezekiel. Or, earlier in that episode Ezekiel tells his mother he doesn’t steal anymore (at least for anything other than the Library, I assume, cause he still kinda does) and therefor that made him immune to the spell, since it only works on thieves.

Image of an Image: Both Cassandra and Ezekiel got their pictures taken, and Cassandra was the only one affected by the transfer spell. However, Ezekiel wasn’t one of the “chosen ones” because he snuck in, and jumped in front of the camera while Eve (one of the “chosen ones”, who was later able to be affected) turned away. Either that, or he just didn’t have time to feel the effect, since his picture was taken after Cassandra’s, and Eve’s was placed in manually.

That’s all the possible instances of magic immunity I could think of.

Next, we have some other stuff that is relevant to this point, but wasn’t necessarily artifact/magic immunity.

Prophecy Cube: Created by the Oracle of Delphi, who is from Greek mythology. This isn’t about whether Ezekiel was affected by something, as he was still able to use the prophecy glass/get stuck in the cube. Rather, it’s about the Zeus Challenge in the cube. They probably would have died in there, but luckily, Ezekiel had just happened to steal, and keep on him, the exact thing they needed to get through– a bunch of golden coins, and a prophecy that ensures at least one coin can’t be destroyed. Luck? Prophecy? Divine Intervention? Plot convenience? Okay its probably the last one but STILL

Also, Ezekiel getting pissed at Zeus.

Zeus’s Bolt (again?): There is a promo image I think for season 4? that has each of the Librarians holding their tools. Jacob had his axe, Cassandra had a notebook, Flynn had Excalibur, all normal, except for Eve and Ezekiel. Eve had this big staff thing I didn’t recognize, and Ezekiel had Zeus’ Bolt for some reason?

Lightning, just, in general: If there is wild electricity in an episode, Ezekiel is probably around.

Examples:

City of Light: Gets shocked and knocked backwards into Jacob by a very electrified fence, gets up right afterwards and is fine.

Broken Staff: The Zeus Bolt thing, you get it.

Image of an Image: Ezekiel electrocutes Jacob. Jacob was not really fine. He lived, though.

Point of Salvation: Ezekiel electrocutes Jacob part 2 Electric Boogaloo, but this time on purpose. He was not fine. He died. But don’t worry, he lived.

Self-Fulfilling Prophecy: Mentioned a little bit above, Ezekiel, Jacob, and a student get stuck in the Zeus Challenge, and Ezekiel uses some coins he just so happened to steal recently. Throwing them on tiles shows whether or not lightning will strike if it was stepped on. Seriously, why is it ALWAYS Jacob?

The Dark Secret: Ezekiel is the one sent to wrap a cord around a lightning rod constantly being struck by lighting. “Why am I bloody doing this”, he asks? I mean, Zeus probably isn’t going to kill his descendent(?), right?

Werewolves: Have you heard of the Lycaon of Arcadia? It’s a Greek myth. Basically, this dude named Lycaon wants to test how smart and all-knowing Zeus is. To do so, he kills his own son, cooks him, and serves him to Zeus to see if he notices, ya know, no biggie. Zeus was like “wtf man” and brings the son back to life, and turns Lycaon into, you guessed it, a wolf. So, Zeus creates a werewolf of sorts, maybe one of the firsts. In Fangs of Death, Ezekiel just so happens to be the one (main) character to be turned into werewolf. So, if he was a descendant of Zeus, imagine how big of a “fuck you” that was to the god. That all being said, Ezekiel was turned by an Egyptian god, so that might not have been intentional. Also, they may have just been avoiding turning Jacob, because there is already a werewolf named Jacob and they didn't want another Twilight reference in that episode.

Family/Name: Ezekiel is adopted, and his adoptive mother mentions how she took him in off the streets. Because of that, we don’t know who his birth parents are, and whether or not he, or anyone else, knows is unknown. Soooo, we can take some creative liberties as to who his parents might have been.

As for his name, it carries some religious connotations. It should be remembered though, the meanings I’m talking about here are Biblical, not Greek, so again, might mean nothing for this argument. “Ezekiel” is “God’s Strength” or “God will Strengthen”. Jones might also be something like “God is gracious” or “God has favored”, thought different sites say different things. However, I’m pretty sure the name Jones came from his adoptive mother, and apparently Jones is a common last name in Australia. His first name is more relevant, because all of his siblings have themed names; Mercy, Charity, and Honor. So, either his mom named him differently because she knew something we don’t, or he already had the name before she adopted him. Either way, this probably means absolutely nothing. But what are we here for? To analyze a dead show like an English teacher analyzes the color of curtains in an 100 year old text. If it wasn’t for all the other stuff, I probably wouldn’t think about this too much.

Okay. So Greek stuff, lightning, and Zeus himself come up a LOT when it comes to this guy. So is Ezekiel the son of Zeus? Possibly, but a more popular theory is that he’s Zeus’ grandson. Because Zeus’ son just so happens to be Hermes; god of things such as luck, travel, money, trade, and most importantly, thieves. Oh, and animal husbandry/shepherds and sleep, I don’t know how much those apply but I will try.

Time for some comparisons, honestly most of these don’t even need to be explained so I’ll keep it short-ish, cause this shit has gotten way too long already.

Luck: Ezekiel, especially in the first season, likes to rely on luck, and tends to be very lucky in general. Examples where this is mentioned include Fables of Doom and Apple of Discord. “Smarter to be lucky then lucky to be smart!”

Travel: We can assume that he ended up traveling in his previous job (that being heists all over the world) fairly often, even before the Library. Becoming a Librarian with a teleporting door increased that of course.

Money: Steals very high-value items to sell. Also apparently likes to take money from his coworker’s wallets. And probably everyone else’s.

Trade: The aforementioned high-value pieces he steals are traded/sold for money. In Christmas Thief, we find out he kept none of the money or items, giving it away to others who needed it. That kinda fits this category, I think.

Thieves: I really don’t need to explain this. Unless you haven’t seen the show.

Animal Husbandry/Shepherds?: Basically the care of animals. Um, well he doesn’t keep cows or anything, but he has a tendency to “adopt” magical creatures that need help. Stumpy, Nessie Jr., maybe Frankenstein’s Monster as well?

Sleep: I mentioned earlier how Ezekiel froze a guy (not really in an icy way, just couldn’t move) by hitting him with his coin. Hermes is able to send people to sleep with his Caduceus (the snake wand thing). Yeah, it’s not really the same thing, though you could consider being frozen a kind of sleep. He could have just been lucky enough to find a magical coin, and lucky enough to figure out how to use it at the exact right time without even knowing what it did. It’s a stretch either way, really, and was never explained in the episode at all. Yeah, I can't find anything else that fits.

Hermes is considered to be a thief and trickster, and a lot of the things he is god of are Ezekiel’s main occupations. With all those similarities to Hermes, frequent events related to lightning and Zeus related things, and immunity to Greek artifacts, we can conclude that he is perhaps the son of Hermes, taking after his father in abilities and getting visits from grandpa.

Alternatively, his somehow IS Hermes, but I doubt that. He’d probably be way more powerful. He was also able to see the future with Prophecy Glass, which Jenkins claims is impossible for immortals to do (although in that case he was talking about a Prophecy Cube, but close enough). It’s more likely that he is a demigod.

Okay, that is all I can think of that is relevant. I binged the series about two months ago, and have been thinking about this theory. I went ahead and re-watched the episodes that I mentioned in more detail, as well as parts of others that I remebered. The reason I bring this up is because I may have missed things. I did not rewatch a majority of the episodes, more that I looked at a list of episodes on wikipedia and tried to remember what happened in them, watching clips and episodes if I needed to.

The show was cancelled, so we’ll probably never get a confirmation as to who Ezekiels’ birth parents were, and as such, you can’t prove me wrong! That being said, if I got any facts incorrect in this, please tell me so I can fix it. I’m not well versed on Greek Mythology, in fact I know basically nothing, and did the research as I went along. So again, there could be more. This is just what I found in like, less than a day of searching.

Join me next time on “How is Cassandra magical, where’d she get it from? Also, were we ever gonna meet her parents?” And “In the first episode of season 3, Jacob is just able to hit a heavy punching bag of its chain, across the room, at bullet speed, just because of a shift of his wrist, and later in that episode do the same thing to Apep, and it’s just…never addressed or spoken about again? Like wtf man?”

I'm probably not doing that

If you managed to get through all of this, thank you, and I hope this wasn’t too painful to read.

#the librarians #ezekiel jones #greek #hermes #zeus #this took so long #magic #magic immunity #theory #headcannon #demigod #curse of cindy #apple of discord #broken staff

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quazartranslates · 3 years

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Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH40

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 40: Star Death Reality Show (XXIII)

In front of the screen, Qi Leren went completely cold. Even the temperature regulating suit couldn't keep out the chill pouring into the bottom of his heart.

The "Qi Leren" in the game knew "Passerby A", but Qi Leren didn't remember "Passerby A" ever meeting "Qi Leren". Was the save file changed or the whole game changed?

Qi Leren stared at the "Qi Leren" on the screen. "Qi Leren" had ignored Passerby’s existence. After seeing Maria's tombstone, he went to Ning Zhou and started a familiar conversation that made his hair stand on end.

"She always wanted to go back," Ning Zhou said.

"Go back to the Holy City?" "Qi Leren" in the game asked.

Ning Zhou nodded: "But she had been unable to go back and dared not to."

"Qi Leren" asked him, "Do you want to go back to the Holy City?"

As if it was fate, he watched the same story unfold before his eyes, only this time, he was a passerby. It was also this unique perspective that made him see many things that he hadn't noticed before—originally at that time, had Ning Zhou’s face really looked like this?

That faint shyness, when he changed his perspective, was so obvious that it couldn’t be hidden. And the look in Ning Zhou’s eyes... Those eyes that reflected the golden glow of the sunset, where can you hide the tenderness?

Maybe only two people who had feeling for each other would be too stupid to see clearly.

The following story was almost according to the exact direction of the Nightmare World, except that there was one more "Passerby". The "Qi Leren" in the game seemed to be familiar with him. From the words inadvertently mentioned by "Qi Leren", they had come from the same Novice Village. Just when Qi Leren thought he was replacing Dr. Lu, Dr. Lu also appeared, and the number of people on the Holy City task this time became five.

Passerby A, Qi Leren, Ning Zhou, Dr. Lu, and... Su He.

The Devil of Fraud who had hidden his identity and appeared in front of them as a friendly senior once again joined their ranks.

Don't take Su He, don't take him!

However, no matter how the Qi Leren in front of the screen shouted in his heart, he still knew nothing about the future fate in the game. Passerby A was just a passer-by, who couldn't control all of this. The game didn't even give him any options; he could only choose to go along the established route.

Until they came to the Holy City, until the nightmare of the new moon came, until...

Until "Qi Leren" died.

When the Passerby, who had drunk the antidote, hurried to the old site of the Vatican along with Dr. Lu, everything was already over. Qi Leren didn't even have to go to the Vatican on top of the mountain, because he knew that the other Qi Leren was sleeping in the tree tomb in the Garden of the Holy Tomb.

Once, there was an afternoon with warm sunshine, when they had had a picnic here, the grass and treetops were full of flowers. A gust of wind had blown, and blue and white petals fell in abundance. At that time, he had been lying in the hollow tree stump covered with green grass, relaxing in the sunshine.

Past and present seem to overlap in this cutscene.

He came to the Garden of the Holy Tomb, silently watching "Qi Leren" sleep in the tree tomb under the starry night with the milky way hanging high above them, and Ning Zhou quietly standing beside "Qi Leren".

From dusk to dawn.

Companionship was always short, but missing could be very long.

This long thought, this long farewell, may take up this person's whole life—if he didn't wake up.

The Holy City was becoming more and more boisterous, and finally it was time to say goodbye.

He saw that Ning Zhou, who had not recovered from his injuries, had picked seven white wild roses and plucked off the thorns one by one, which seemed to be him breaking free from the shackles of his heart one after another, and every bloody thorn pierced his skin.

He was breaking free from his chains, but wasn't he taking off his armor?

This was his farewell to his lover, and also to the faith that dominated the first half of his life. From now on, he would continue to have faith, but he would no longer be accepted by that faith, because he was already a heretic.

When Ning Zhou placed the seven white roses on Qi Leren, his expression told Qi Leren that he had made a decision.

The Qi Leren in front of the screen choked on his breath, and both dry and wet tears stung his skin. They formed a thin layer of frost, and his chest seems to have a fire burning inside it, burning him, tearing his heart, cracking his lungs, an inferno that made him unable to breathe.

On the day of his resurrection, he had seen the withered white roses, but he hadn't seen the man who had carefully cut off every thorn, so even if he was sad, he was full of hope, and he knew that they would meet again one day.

But when this scene that he had never seen before was staged before his eyes, he knew what it was to have pain pierce his heart.

Had he experienced one tenth, one hundredth, one thousandth of Ning Zhou's pain?

But even if it was one tenth, one hundredth, or one thousandth of the pain, once he felt the same way, it was tantamount to torture.

When Ning Zhou had stepped out of the Garden of the Holy Tomb and walked to the cathedral at the highest point of the Vatican, Qi Leren looked at his back; when he knelt in front of the statue of Maria and drew a cross on his chest, Qi Leren looked at the side of his face; when the archangel with blazing wings was summoned to come here, he merged his strength with Ning Zhou, and he held the Sword of Judgment. Ning Zhou also held the virtual Sword of Judgment, and waved it hard in the direction of the rising sun, cutting open this dead field with one slash.

Amid the holy power that filled the sky, the gold and silver spots, and the hymns and music, this church seemed like a heaven on earth.

Qi Leren looked at his lover like a holy angel, but he couldn't help smiling proudly, even though the tears on his face had not dried.

But such a smile only stayed on his face for a moment.

In this glorious destruction, the holy field was touched by the power of the Devil, and the darkness hidden in the abyss was ready to move and quietly come to this pure land. The blazing angel possessed by Ning Zhou was attacked by the power of this dark demon and gradually dissipated, turning into falling feathers all over the sky. The strong wind swept into this world and woke it from its dream.

The power of holiness was cut off, and a red light flashed in his eyes. Ning Zhou covered his face painfully, clutching the Sword of Judgment and kneeling on the ground.

A narration appeared on the screen, making Qi Leren fall into ice:

[The child of the Lord of Destruction and the Holy Nun returned to the place where the story began, ending the Holy Nun’s life regret. These lovers, who once shared the same ideals and explored the mysteries of the world together, ended tragically. The power of destruction and the power of protection were doomed to clash. Perhaps, when chasing the ultimate source of power, whether a saint or a demon, you will eventually get lost in power and forget yourself...]

[A new destructive force has begun to wake, will he repeat the same mistakes? Or is it that a new miracle is faintly brewing in his body...]

Qi Leren collapsed in his chair, staring at the narration disappearing from the screen.

He thought that this world was crazy.

Otherwise, how could it treat Ning Zhou like this?

How could this gentle, kind-hearted believer who had devoted his whole life to fighting the Devils be a descendant of a Devil? And the power of that Devil was awakening in him...

Could Ning Zhou accept it?

Qi Leren trembled, afraid that he would not have the strength.

He couldn't imagine how a devout believer, who had just lost his lover and been excommunicated from the Holy See, could accept this truth. If there was a God in this world, how could He add another whip mark to a scarred person?

God, he has suffered so much pain, why do you want to break his back, so that he can't keep his last faith and pride?

Do you really love him? Have you really loved him? Will the believer not be subjected to irresistible temptations, and his faith in you will help him overcome these temptations. Isn't that what is written in the Canon?

Qi Leren couldn't say anything. He was just a passerby watching this tragedy happen, but he couldn't say a word.

This task had come to an end. After evacuating the residents of the Holy City and watching them follow the people of the Holy See to the distant Neverland, Qi Leren got on the aircraft and once again returned to the Village of Dusk. Here, he was faced with another choice: whether to follow Ning Zhou to continue the next task, or to stay in the Village of Dusk.

Without a doubt, Qi Leren chose to follow Ning Zhou.

Ning Zhou returned to Neverland. He wanted to go back to the Holy See and confess his decision to the Pope. Qi Leren waited for him at the Holy See’s stronghold outside Neverland, waiting three days and three nights.

The wind on the tundra was cold, and in the long polar night, the aurora brightened the sky in a mighty display. Qi Leren stood at the top of the valley and looked at the boundless world of ice and snow in the distance, but this beautiful scenery made him feel desperate.

He knew Ning Zhou would come out from the world that had once sheltered him and imprisoned him, but the fate imposed on him didn’t know what compassion was, and it would lead him to another bloody world, which was even more cruel than any before.

He was such a good person, but he bore such a cruel future, a future that could destroy his will.

His life seemed to be cursed, and he kept losing, and losing again, until there was nothing left to lose… When he was a teenager, he had lost his only relative, and when he grew up, he had lost his lover, and even the land of eternity that filled his soul had closed the door to him, even in the distant future, he would even lose himself.

The Passerby on the screen looked at the snow with a straight face, but the Qi Leren outside the screen burst into tears.

When you love someone, even if he is wronged only a little, it makes you feel too distressed.

His yearning heart could no longer be suppressed, and Qi Leren impatiently wanted to fly to Ning Zhou now, give him a hug, and tell him—at least he hasn't lost him yet.

Three days later, Ning Zhou returned, and they boarded the aircraft again, flying to the distant Sea of Tranquility desert and heading for the Underground Ant City.

At dawn, the sunshine outside the window fell on Ning Zhou's face through thick glass, and Qi Leren looked at him quietly. He did not tell him the story of "Qi Leren", as if he had forgotten that he had this deep love.

It seemed that he was neither sad nor forlorn, as if he had cured himself.

This calmness was a sort of despair.

On the 29th day after the task of the Holy Nun, Qi Leren, who had triggered the second part of the main task but was forced to part ways with Ning Zhou, got a system prompt:

[Party member Ning Zhou has died.]

-----

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knight-queen · 3 years

Text

Lunatic Parade Subaru Sakamaki–⁠ (Chapter 2)

[Chapter 1]

Place: ??? (BG black)

Yui: (nng…)

(Huh, what time is it…?)

(Last night, I was having difficulties in sleeping so I couldn’t sleep well…)

(...? Oh no...I can’t move my body…! Bu- but why…!?)

???: ….Zzz

Yui: (Someone...is here...!?)

Place: ホテル•モーントシュタイン客室 / Hotel • Mortstein,Guest room

Yui: 一Su- Subaru kun!?

(Lemme think? Why’s he sleeping on my bed…!?)

(Could it be I accidentally fell asleep here…? ...Nope, it’s no way…)

Subaru: nnh…

Yui: (Wa- What should I do! He is about to wake up…!?)

*Subaru gets up*

Subaru: ….ah?

Yui: Err...that’s...Good morn- ning?

Subaru: ...Yeah….hm?

That’s, Yo- you!? Uwaa! Why are you here!? *blushing*

Didn’t I warn ye’ not to enter on the other side!?

*Subaru backs off*

Yui: You misunderstood! This is my portion…!

Subaru: Haah!? That’s not一

Yui: Then look! My Rosary is on this bed-side…

Subaru: ……

Yui: (What can I do, he isn’t saying anything…)

*Subaru stops blushing*

Subaru: Oh...I see now...yesterday…

Haah…

Yui: Subaru kun…?

Subaru: ...How’s your health today?

Yui: Eh…? Health? I haven’t felt anything recently though…

Subaru: ...Then, it’s good.

Yui: (Why does that mean…?)

Saying that...why were you sleeping on my bed-part…?

Subaru: ...kh...that’s ‘cuz…*blushing*

...Shuddup! That doesn’t even matter!

Yui: Eeh...but I’m curious…

(Because...he strictly prohibited not to enter on the other side…)

Subaru: ……

Yui: ……

Subaru: ...Tch! Aaah, damn it!

Got it, if you’ll be satisfied if I say it, then I’ll!!

...You’re...having a nightmare last night.

Yui: Eh…?

Subaru: When I was sleeping on my side, I heard you making painful noises and...

That’s why...I go there to check out your state.

...Was it my bad?

Yui: Oh…

(Last night, it wasn’t a dream that I felt my chest hurt…)

(Because of that, Subaru kun has...slept…)

You were worried for me, right?

Subaru: Wha...I didn’t really worry or something like…*blushing*

Yui: Fufu…

Subaru: Shit, don’t laugh!

*Screen shakes + Subaru gets closer*

Yui: Kyaa…!?

Don’t pull off my arm so suddenly…!

Subaru: Shuddup! I’m gonna sleep twice.

Yui: Eeeh…!?

Subaru: Just be quiet and embrace me…!

*Hugs her tighter*

Yui: (Oh come on. We must have to get up by right now...but…)

(Last night, I am sure he had been concerned for my health all the time…)

(Just a little bit...should be fine, no?)

Place: Glimmer Street Main street / グリンマーストリート表通り

Yui: The antique art dealer that you’ve mentioned yesterday...do you know where he is?

Subaru: Yeah...but saying the truth, I don’t wanna drag myself near him…

Yui: Is he such a weird person…?

Subaru: Weird you say...He’s a narrow-minded guy who always comes up with a disagreement for some reasons.

Even for the father, he is a damn crap old-uncle who always shows-off around.

Yui: You didn’t have to explain it in such a cruel manner…

Subaru: Hmph…

Subaru: However...this old uncle is the only guy who can resist my father.

By putting it that way, that guy is incredible, I think.

Yui: Oh...I see now…

(The one who can resist Karl-Heinz san...then he should be a pretty amazing right…)

(I wonder what kind of person he is…)

Subaru: I am sure he lives around this area…

Oh, here it is...let’s enter.

Place: Aizen Stahl, Antique Art Store/ アイゼンシュタール古美術商店

Subaru: 一 Oi, Ye’ here?

Antique Art Dealer: Hmm…?

Ooh! You’re the youngest kid of the Sakamaki.

Yui: (This person is the artist of the antique…)

Antique Art Dealer: You were so small in the past…

Now you’ve grown up so much, like walking in the future carrying a woman huh.

...I think she looks like a young girl having a plugged-nose though.

Yui: Pu- pugged nose…!?

(How awful…)

Subaru: Tch…

...Don’t care about him that much. I told that he's narrow-minded and has a disagreement with everything, right?

Yui: Y- yes…

Antique Art Dealer: So, what’s up today? For you coming in this place is rather rare.

Did Karl-Heinz assign you any mission or something? Heheh…

Subaru: Ye’ aren’t even close, that old man has no connection with it.

...Do you know that guy called Earl Walter?

Antique Art Dealer: Hm….

Subaru: I had smashed several furnishings of his castle yesterday.

Antique Art Dealer: ...You did?

Subaru: Yeah.

Antique Art Dealer: Ho...you see...the furnishings of the Walter are…

Pfft….Hahahah! Oh my, I see! You breaked them huh!

That was the masterpiece thing you did!

Yaay, you did well, youngest kid of Sakamaki!

Yui: Eh…

(He seems to be laughing so much…!?)

Subaru: O- oi…?

Antique Art Dealer: What are you trying to hide? I strongly hate that guy.

Yui: Is that so…?

Antique Art Dealer: Yeah, absolutely. For telling the truth, he has stolen my treasures in the past.

Since then, I just continued hating and hating him…

For this, I become overjoyed hearing this, you know!

Yui: (I get it...so that was the reason…)

Antique Art Deal: I think I can repair the implements in his castle other than the goods in his treasure house.

Subaru: You mean it!?

Yui: That’s a relief….!

Antique Art Deal: Since you had blown up the hell out of that guy then...I shall help you.

Which stuff do you wanna repair?

Yui: A jar, sculpture and a painting…

Antique Art Dealer: I get the point. If that's the case then I can manage somehow I think. Hold on a sec.

*Walks away*

Yui: Looks like at the end we can come up with something, Subaru kun…!

Subaru: Yeah, I believe so…

*Pulling something big*

Antique Art Dealer: I appreciate your waiting. What about this thing?

These things are quite similar with those types of implements, right?

Subaru: Yeah, almost like that.

Yui: Then...if we give these to Earl Walter, he may pardon us…!

Subaru: Yup, we appreciate it. Then We’re takin’ out leav一

Antique Art Dealer: Hold ittt!

*Slaps Subaru*

Subaru: Ouch…! What the hell are ye’ doin’!?

Antique Art Dealer: Who said I’ll do these for free!

Subaru: Haah!? Did you say you’re gonn’ help us out!?

Antique Art Dealer: If you sound like having complaints then I won't hand these over to you.

Subaru: Ghh…

...Oh! Then I am gonna go to the human world and get some money from that old father.

That’s why...let us make an exchange with these.

Antique Art Dealer: Hmph, I don’t even slightly agree that Karl-Heinz will take out money for such things.

Subaru: ….kkh….

Yui: Then...what can we do for the charge…?

Antique Art Dealer: Let’s see…

If you can hand me three things that I’ll order, then I am gonna exchange these things.

Well, if I put in other others, those things should be close to my hand-maid things.

Yui: Hand-maid…

Subaru: Tch….annoying but...that’s the only way.

一一Understood. We’ll get them for you.

Antique Art Dealer: ...Told you, right? Then, let’s tie up our discussions here.

Yui: What should we search to begin with?

Antique Art Dealer: ...The head-mask of a clown. That should be an antique item.

Subaru: HAAH!? Why the heck you need such a thing!?

Antique Art Dealer: That’s because I want that, so you can’t blame it.

If you don’t want to then you don’t have to, ya’ know? Since I am not allowing exchange if so.

Subaru: ...Told ye’ that I am gonna do it! I’m gonna search for that right away so wait!...What a shit!

Place: サントノレパーク通り / Saint Honoré Park Street

Yui: It’s much crowded that I’ve thought…

Subaru: Ahh...ear sore…

Yui: (It's a parade after all so we have to endure these…)

一Ah! There is a clown right ahead! I think there’s gonna be a performance onward.

(It was a great decision for visiting the amusement park. Because, after it if we ask about the head-mask to the clown, then一)

Vampire Child A: Oh! It’s a clown! Hurry up and come 一!

Vampire Child B: Hold on一!

Clown A: There, there. Don’t push each other, okay~!

Yui: (Wah, it’s a huge crowd...I can’t get near him at all…)

Subaru: Oi, what are ye’ gonna do? There’re so many kids so we can’t get to him.

Yui: Umm...at this rate, the performance is gonna begin soon…

(What shall we do…)

Clown B: ...What shall we do?

Clown C: I can’t answer even if you ask...it’s a weekend after all…

Yui: (Hm? Over there are…)

Look, the clowns are getting prepared over there. Let’s talk with them.

I think they are having some kind of trouble…

*Walks over there*

Yui: Excuse us…

Clown B: Yes?

Yui: Did something happen? You look somehow troubled…

Clown C: Oh...that’s...the clown who was supposed to play main role in this performance,

Cannot show up for getting an injury…

Vampire Child A: So we can’t start!

Vampire Child B: I am getting sick of waiting!

Yui: (Ah...there children are…)

Clown A: ...Kh, We can’t buy ourselves time anymore! What should we do!?

Yui: Tell us! Is there anything we can do to help you?

Clown B: Eeeh!? But…

Subaru: Ha? Oi, what are ya’ sayi…

Clown C: No...maybe you can. If you lend us a hand in the fountain-show then…

...Certainly...if you do that much then...At this moment, that’s the only way.

Subaru: What’re ye’ thinking? It’s now way...we can help ‘em!

Yui: Sorry for deciding all of these even if you’re refusing to….

But, if we help, then we can have a talk with them as early as possible…

Subaru: ………

Clown A: Can you please do it for us?

Subaru: ...Certainly...we won’t have a delay talking with ‘em if we do so…

...Understood, we’ll do it.

Clown C: That’ll be a great help! But...we’re lacking time so, please get ready right away.

Yui: Yeah…!

*After a moment*

Clown A: Alright, dear people! Thank you so much for your long wait!

Clown B: After a moment, we’re going to show everyone in a fantasy world.

Yui: (Aight...let’s do my best…!)

→Game

Words Subaru said in the game 一

What're you doing? Get started.

Looks like we’re done.

If you win 一

*Audiences’ claps *

Yui: (Have we done it...perfectly…?)

Vampire Child A: Ohh! Wonderful!

Vampire Child B: The fountain-show was so incredible, right…!

Clown A: Thank you very much! You succeed so well!

Yui: Really….!? We did it, Subaru kun!

*Yui hugs Subaru*

Subaru: Uwaah…!?

*Fades to CG*

Yui: (What a relief...we get that right…!)

Subaru: O- oi! Lemme go!

Yui: Eh?

Vampire Child A: Look! It’s a couple, a couple!!

Vampire Child B: Right~! A lovely-dovely one~!

Yui: ...kh…!

(I was so happy that I….!)

Yui: Ah, Subaru kun, that’s...err, I didn’t mean to do it…!

Vampire Child B: Couple~! Couple~!

Subaru: Tch…! Ya’ll are being damn noisy!

Vampire Child A: Uwaa! We got him mad! Let’s escape!!

*Run*

Subaru: Fuck…!

Yui: (Uuh...and also, what was I doing….so embarrassing….!)

*CG Fades*

Yui: S- sorry, I did something weird so suddenly…!

Subaru: Geez…

Clown C: Phew, thanks to you two, the show has ended up smoothly.

Furthermore, you absolutely deserve larger congrats than I’d expected!

Clown B: Honestly, thank you a lot!

Yui: (I’m glad that we’ve come out handy to them.)

Clown A: 一Once again, we’re expressing our gratefulness for supporting us.

Clown B: As a thank you, please recommend to us what can we give you as a present.

Yui: Err...Actually, if you could manage us a thing that we have been searching…

Subaru: 一 This one. Can you recall seeing something like this?

Clown C: This is…

Yui: (Ah...that photo was…)

Subaru: It’s a head-mask used by a clown. If you have it, then please give it to us.

Clown A: Oh...it looks like an old-modeled head-mask. I hope it is left out in the warehouse...

However, you have helped us so much after all, so we’ll search up the warehouse for you.

Yui: You mean it!? Thank you…!

Clown A: Then, we’re gonna go there to search….can we request you to wait here for a while?

Yui: We’re counting on you!

*Goes away*

Yui: That’s good right, Subaru kun…!

Subaru: If they find it, then yes…

Yui: (...Looks like we’re having a freetime. What can we do…)

Oh...tell me Subaru kun. We’re having some time so let’s play something cool?

Subaru: Huh?

Yui: It’s boring if we just wait here plus…

Subaru: ...What do you wanna ride?

Yui: Err...let’s see….Oh, what about Merry-Go-Round?

Subaru: HAAAH!? Which fool is gonna ride such a childish thing!?

Yui: Ah…

(So we can’t huh...I really wanted to ride something together…)

Subaru: ……..

Tch…

*Walks away*

Yui: Subaru kun…?

Subaru: ...What’re ye’ standing like a statue for? Hurry up.

Yui: Eh...hurry up but why…

Subaru: Huh...you wanna ride, no? Come along before I change my mood to ride.

Yui: ...Mhm!

*After a while*

Yui: Haa, it was fun…!

Subaru: Which side was fun….such stuff was just embarrassing! *blushing*

For starters...You ended up choosing that horse-drawn vehicle…

For making me ride on like a clerk...of that horse…!

If ye’ make me do so next time, then I’ll blow ye’ up…!

Yui: (Certainly it was embarrassing of two of us riding together but…)

I enjoyed riding with you, thank you for that.

Subaru: …ngh…*blushed*

Well...if you’d enjoyed it then it’s okay but….I won’t gonn’ face such a ride next time!

Clown A: 一Sorry for making you wait!

Yui: Oh, you are…

Subaru: You’ve found that?

Clown A: It was...expectedly way much old, so it wasn’t left in our warehouse.

Subaru: Haah!?

Yui: S- such…!

Clown A: However, if I take the correct conjecture then you may find it in the dress shop of this town.

Yui: Dress shop…

(Then we should go there I think.)

Thanks a lot for giving us valuable information. We’re going to that shop then.

Clown A: Yup. Take care…!

Place: Glimmer Street, Aizen back street

Subaru: 一Where can we find that dress shop?

Yui: Umm...according to the map we received earlier, that should be around here.

Right ahead of that crowd, I guess…?

Subaru: Crowd….I’m sick of that.

Yui: Ahaha, you’re right…

(By the way, I wonder if it’s just my imagination to have a bad feeling about it…)

Place: Dress Shop /ドレスショップ

Yui: ………

Subaru: ………

Why is it crowded here too…!

Yui: Y- yes…

(The bad-feeling that I was having was true after all…!)

Umm...excuse me. Anything going on here?

Vampire Woman A: Yeah, there’s going to be a fashion show.

Yui: Fashion show!?

If the fashion is gonna start then I bet the workers in this shop are busy…

Subaru: Ahh...crowds are annoying too. So, let’s wait until it’s over.

Yui: Right...let’s wait then…

(Fashion show of the Demon World huh, I am bit interested一)

???: 一Ah! Hey you there!

Subaru: Aah?

Yui: (Hm…?)

???: I want you to follow me!

*She pulls Subaru*

Subaru: Aaah? What’s so sudden!?

Dress shop owner: I am the owner of this shop. I’ll explain everything inside that room. Anyway, come!

Subaru: Oi, hold it!

Yui: Ah, wait….!

(What on this earth going on…? I should just follow them…)

Place: Dressing Room / 試着室

Yui: (She has brought us very inside this shop…)

Dress shop owner: My apologies for bringing you here so suddenly but please get changed into this costume.

Subaru: Haah!? You’re doing these so abruptly! Why the heck is going on!

Dress shop owner: ...Right, I was forcing you way much…

For here on, we’re going to perform a fashion show here, however…

It was frustrating that there wasn’t a single model out there to wear my masterpiece costume.

I was able to find substitutes from the time being but none of them were perfectly suitable.

However, in the meantime you show up! You’re an ideal model for this.

Yui: (Subaru kun….a model…)

Subaru: Stop fussing around! Who’s gonna do such a shit!

Dress shop owner: No refusal! I’ll make you to be the model by any means!

I bet you’re gonna be pleased with the costume that I created.

Subaru: Hmph, what an absurd one. Oi, we’re going back.

Yui: Ah, but….

(We must have to ask them about that head-mask…)

(Above that…)

*BGM stops*

(I am very interested in seeing Subaru kun participating in the fashion show…!)

Tell me, Subaru kun...it’s a great offer so please participate in it?

Subaru: AAAAH!? You’re also saying these!?

Yui: ….Please do!

Plus...please lend me your ear a bit?

*Subaru gets closer + Yui whispers*

Yui: You see, it may be the right chance for us to ask them about the head-mask…!

Subaru: ...gh…

Dress shop owner: I have no clue what you’re mumbling for…

But I am begging you too. Because you can be the supreme model for sure.

Subaru: ………

….Lend that thing. I’m gonna wear it.

*Starts putting on*

Yui: Subaru kun…!

Dress shop owner: Woo! Thanks a lot! Then come here please!

Yui: (I am looking forward to the upcoming…!)

Place: Glimmer Street Main street / グリンマーストリート表通り

*Shutter sounds of taking photos*

Yui: (Every single model has so cool styles. I can’t help but to admire them…)

(Subaru kun’s turn hasn’t come yet…)

Dress shop owner: Alright, so our last display will be this costume of our pride!

Yui: (Ah, he shows up…!)

*Louder Applause + Shutters*

Monologue一

The appearance of Subaru who modelled was looking so cool that anyone’d get caught in his enchantment.

...It was rather a displeasing mood for me though.

He was in an unusual appearance or for something else, I was feeling like he was refreshed.

The shop-owner who stood by this Subaru kun 一一

She is so beautiful too.

I was just curious that...two of them who were getting captured in photos taken by others, what conversations they were having while having short distance in between them.

End of Monologue

*Shutters*

Dress shop owner: The visitors are congrating us so much…!

Come on, you also shake your hand with these audiences.

*Swats her hand*

Subaru: 一Don’t you freely touch my hand.

||気安い means actually friendly or familliarly. However, I thought ‘freely’ would go smoothly with the sentence. However, the more literal concept would be “Don’t touch my hand treating so friendly / familiar with me.

Yui: (Ah…! Subaru kun just shook off the shop-owner’s hand.)

Subaru: I’m engaged. Hand-shake with someone else.

||Spoilers! 予約済み means engage / reservation. I am pretty much sure he meant engaged. Because it reflects a clue about ‘engaging’ to the dress-shop owner. :p But some translators may also translate like “I am reserved here. Touch other else” x’D However it would sound weird or logicless since ‘reservation’ has nothing to do with ‘touching hand’. The next sentence, it makes it more obvious :’)

Dress shop owner: Oh my…

...Fufu, it’s that girl over there huh.

Subaru: ...Hmph.

Yui: (I hope he won’t fight over this time…)

*After a moment*

Yui: 一Subaru kun!

Subaru: ...Oh, you come huh.

Yui: Oh...you have got back to normal appearance huh.

Subaru: Absolutely! Who’d wear that damn cloth for a long time.

Yui: (I want to...tell him about my impressions of that show...How should I describe that?)

→Selection

面白かった / You looked interesting

かっこよかった / You looked cool (+correct)

Yui: Subaru kun, you looked so cool!

Subaru: I- is that so? I haven’t really done anything. *flushed*

Yui: It’s not like that. That costume also suited you pretty well and…!

Subaru: ...Thanks.

Dress shop owner: Thanks for the earlier. For you, we really hit a huge profit.

Subaru: I’d acted just as you said. This time, listen to our request.

Dress shop owner: What is it? It will be a pleasure to help you with anything I can.

Subaru: ...Have you seen something similar to this photo? We’re searching for that.

Dress shop owner: ...Oh, it’s inside our warehouse. I’m going to bring that so wait please.

*After a while*

Dress shop owner: 一I think it’s this one.

Yui: Yeah, it is!

Dress shop owner: No one has been using it since it was just left there...You can have it if you need it.

Yui: Thank you so much! We did it, Subaru kun!

Subaru: Hm...I have no clue what he's planning to do with this worn-out thing…

That’s fine. Let’s get back to that old uncle anyways!

Yui: Right. Ah, really thanks a lot!

Dress shop owner: Whether it’s useful to you or not comes first. If it’s possible then stop by here again.

Place: Aizen Stahl, Antique Art Store/アイゼンシュタール古美術商店

Subaru: 一Here, ye’ haven’t gotten any complaints right!?

Antique Art Dealer: Oooh! This one indeed! I haven’t imagined you’d really give it to me.

Subaru: Geez, my head hasn’t just got that why do ya’ need such a thing.

But...with this we’re done with one of the assignments I hope.

Antique Art Dealer: Yeah, you sure did. I’ll count on you tomorrow as well.

Place: Diamante Fountain / ディアマンテ泉

Subaru: Haah...I’m tired…

Yui: The first day was tough…

Ah, I got churro from the Wagon. Wanna eat?

Subaru: Yeah….mmn…

...The saying that “Sweet things taste more tasty the time you’re tired”, not a lie after all…

Yui: Fufu…

(But, today we really had to face many things.)

(I hope we’ll be able to hold out tomorrow as well…)

Subaru: Don’t make such a depressed face…I’ll be with you.

Yui: Right…!

(That’s true, if Subaru kun’s with me then we’ll be fine…!)

(Alright, let’s do our best tomorrow!)

一The END of Chapter O2

#lunatic parade subaru sakamaki #Subaru Sakamaki #subaru sakamaki lunatic parade #diabolik lovers translations #subaru #lunatic parade subaru sakamaki chapter 2 #lunatic parade subaru sakamaki chapter 1 #final #diabolik lovers lunatic parade #lunatic parade #dl #yui komori #here u have to play a game and u'll get a cg if u win #Cg; yui holding a arm of annoyed subaru

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olivia200312 · 3 years

Text

Teaser!~ Bay! Optimus x Human! Reader

Requested by the lovely @AngelRosePhoenix

Plot: I was thinking of Bayverse AOE that is Cade's 20 yr old cousin which is the same age as Shane. So while they're in the Old Church hiding, Tessa was checking on her phone on YouTube when suddenly she saw Y/N modeling on Victoria's Secret. It was all about her in Victoria's Secret every outfit and catwalk. The music is playing' Roses Imanbek by Saint Jhn". Y/N tries to stop Tessa when the bots were curious too. When she showed it, Bee used a bigger screen and everyone was whistling and making kinky talk to her. She is so flustered while Prime has a horny thing on his mind. So the Prime teased her in a kinky way which others were shocked. Then Cade said, "Yeah, I'd be happy for u that she'll be your girlfriend. She really needs it." Then Tessa complained about Y/N's allowed and not her. But Cade told his daughter that she isn't at Y/N's age. Then Y/N complained and yelled when she heard Optimus say, "Well, I don't mind at all being with her." And he smirked which made her blush furiously and then there goes to the lemon >:D.

This is a lemon! I literally sometimes don't understand some requests that I get that I have to fix it every time so that the readers can understand what's going on. I recommend you all to use Grammarly. It's free and it helps you when you're typing on your computer. I've been using it for months now and it helps a lot when I'm writing chapters or one-shots here. This takes place in the church of Tf4 AOE!

Head area:

Brain: Processor / Brain Module

Head: Helm

Face: Face plate

Ears: Audio receptors / Receptor Orifice / Audials

Nose: Enstril / Olfactory Sensor

Eye brow: Optical Ridge

Eyes: Optics

Mouth: Intake

Lips: Dermas

Teeth: Denta/Dentas

Tongue: Glossa

Chest area:

Chest: Chassis / Thoraxal Cavity

Back: Hexa-Lateral Scapula

Spine: Bipedalism cord / Back Strut

Chest and back armour:

Chest plate

Back plate

Mid-section plating

Neck guard

Side plating

Arm area:

Arms: Arms / Restarlueus

Forearms: Bitarlueus

Hands: Servos

Fingers: Digits

Arm armour:

Gantlets

Shoulder pads

Arm guard

Lower area:

Pelvis: Pelvis

Butt: Aft / Skid-Plate

Thighs: Tibulen

Calves: Cadulen

Feet: Pedes - the high heel bits are called Struts or Heel Struts.

Lower armour:

Skirt plates

Aft plate / Skid plate

Thigh guard

Ankle guard

General/Internal components:

Muscles: Cables / Pistons - It depends on the area in question.

Veins: Fual lines

Stomach: Tanks

Lungs: Vents - used to stop the con/bot from over heating.

Heart: Spark

Tattoos: D-con/A-bot Insignias and the lark

T-Cog: The thing that allows all Cybertronians to transform, be that their arms or their whole body.

Bonus:

Penis: Spike

Vagina: Valve

Body: Frame

Note: the art goes to the owner!

--------------------------------

Oh man, the day is just crazy! Apparently, Cade brought an old truck to his place together with Lucas. Cade Yeager is a single father of Tessa Yeager. His wife sadly passed away when Tessa was young and since then Cade took care of his daughter. He became overprotective and even made a rule to not bring any boys to the house! He meant it to his daughter of course. There was a woman named Y/N L/N. She's 20 years old. She's a mechanic and helps her cousin, Cade, a lot. Yes, Y/N is 3 years older than Tessa. She loves the girl a lot but she also knows her secret: Tessa has a boyfriend named Shane. He's 20 years old as well. Now, Cade didn't know it at first until... random shit happened. The truck is a Transformer named Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots. He's being hunted by KSI and that's why he's hiding. He got separated from his team and Ratchet got sadly killed... Sam Witwicky, along with his girlfriend, mysteriously disappeared.

The old truck transformed inside Cade's barn and man, he's mad! He obviously had his reasons to be mad. Y/N and Cade manage to calm him down. While they both started to fix him, the Prime fell his optics on the 20-year-old mechanic girl. She's just so beautiful...

Anyway, the story continued and Lucas got killed sadly. Everyone was sad that they lost a friend. The adventure continued and yadda, yadda, yadda. Let's get to the point of view now. The church. (I couldn't find a video where the church part scene played).

Everyone is now at the church, hiding. It was safe at least! Optimus and Cade are chatting while others are doing their stuff. Tessa is on her phone, checking random stuff out. It made Y/N very nervous. She has a secret and she didn't want others to find out. She made a video once where she dressed in every Victoria's Secret outfit. She even catwalked in her video for Primus's sake! She thought that no one would ever find out... She's wrong.

Tessa scrolled through her phone until she came across a video on YouTube made by Y/N. She watched it quietly until she smirked. "Oh, Y/N!~"

Y/N looks at Tessa and she got nervous when she saw the look on Tessa's face. "W-What is it?"

"You never told me how well can you catwalk while being in Victoria's Secret outfits."~

That caught Cade's attention as he stopped talking to Optimus and looks shocked at Y/N. "Y/N, you did what?!"

"I-It's not what it looks like!" She waved her hands in defense.

Tessa then showed it to Bumblebee or just Bee, the youngest one of the group and a scout. He showed it to the big screen, causing Y/N to yell "No!" and hide her face in her hands. She just wanted to disappear...

Other bots whistled while Cade looks shocked. Tessa still smirked. Shane then entered the church. "Hey, what's going- Oh God..." He looks shocked. Optimus Prime, on the other hand, has dirty minds in his processor. It's just that... that Victoria's Secret's outfits and catwalks... He just wants to take her now.

Cade seems to notice it. He got told by Optimus that he has a crush on her. He smirked in secret.

Optimus then decided to shock others and make Y/N more flustered. He watched how Y/N slowly showed her face and then the Prime, literally... teased her in a kinky way! No kidding! He did it! Y/N looks more flustered while others looked shocked.

Cade then looks up at the leader. "You know, I'd be happy for u that she'll be your girlfriend. She really needs it."

Tessa then complained. "Really, daddy? Why is she allowed to have a boyfriend and not me?" She looks also annoyed.

"You're not just at her age, sweetie," Cade answered calmly.

"Cade!" Y/N shouted embarrassed.

What Optimus suddenly said made Y/N faint. "Well, I don't mind at all being with her." She then made eye contact with him and saw him smirking. She then fainted.

At night~

The night arrived and everyone went to sleep. Well, almost everyone. The Autobots made sure to watch over and that the humans are comfortable to sleep. Y/N stayed awake and just couldn't sleep. She's now watching the night sky. There's an abandoned train close by and that's where humans slept. More surprisingly, it had comfortable chairs.

"You need to get some recharge, Y/N," said a familiar deep voice.

Y/N gasps and turned around to see Optimus but around her height. Looks like he made himself small. He then stood right behind her, pressing his tank and chassis area against her back. Y/N shivered from the contact. Let's just say that she's was getting turned on. It's just that it was getting sexual. Optimus then placed his servos on her hips and kissing her neck. "Do you really love me, sweetspark?"

"Y-Yes." She then gasped because of the air when her extremely loose blouse was pulled down, exposing her with Victoria Secret's sexy lace bra and panties. She heard Optimus growl. "You're so sexy that I want to take you."

Then Y/N's eyes were full of lust. She felt so wet that her pussy was throbbing, begging to be taken. She panted as heat builds up, making the Prime smirk. He then turned her around and his optics were full of lust when he saw her front body. He fo course finds her beautiful. He then smashed his dermas against t her soft lips. His servos traveled down right on her ass, squeezing it. Y/N moaned as she jumps and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"My spike wants to be inside of you ever since I discovered your dirty secret," Optimus growled.

"Take me.~"

He walks inside the train, where no one else was there. At least, they'll be 'busy' this night ;). He found a comfortable seat and laid Y/N down, while still kissing her. His glossa was fighting against her tongue while servos were rubbing her entire body, squeezing her breasts and her ass. Y/N moaned loudly and Optimus pulled away, causing them to pant.

"I'm taking you tonight."

Then Y/N decided to TAKE HIM instead of him her. She pinned him down, causing the Prime to look surprised when Y/N made him sit up with her straddling on his lap. He then purred and growled lowly, causing Y/N to smirk and grind on his lap. He placed his servos on her ass and pulled her panties down until they're at the ankles so they're not fully off. He used his digit to rub her clit and pump her, causing the female human to let out moans and arch her back. Optimus smashed his dermas against her lips as his free servo traveled up to her breasts. He simply pulled it up a bit until the breasts are out and squeezed them.

"O-Optimus.~"

Optimus purred as he continued for like thirty seconds before stopping, causing to growl in annoyance but then she smirked as she saw his big hard in the air. She lifted herself up and 'accidentally' slammed right into his spike, causing both the bot and human to moan loudly. Y/N hurtled herself a tiny bit but pleasure quickly took over and started to very sexually grinding, riding and dancing at the same time on Optimus' lap. The Prime watched in awe and grunted. He couldn't help but place his servos o her hips, feeling her moving.

"S-Sweetspark.~"

"You like that, Bossbot?" She's teasing him while still smirking and moving.

Optimus growled but doesn't care right now. His optics were watching Y/N's EVERY move. He felt like in heaven. He just loves the sexy human femme that was sitting on him, doing sexual moves while having sex on his lap.

"A-Ahh! Optimus, y-you're so big, hard, and handsome," Y/N panted while having a lovely and sexy expression on her face.

Optimus felt his spark beating fast while showing exactly the same expression. "You t-take my spike so well, sweetspark. I'd like to have a family with y-you in the future." He also grunted a few times.

Y/N giggles and kisses him with so passion that she and Optimus were both lost in so much love that Y/N didn't notice that Optimus started to thrust up roughly, slamming into her many times like dominant Autobot.

"A-Ah! Oh my G-God!" She panted and moaned while Optimus lowly purred and smirked. "I-I'm cumming!"

"Then cume for me, sweetspark. I'll fill you up so well.~" He whispered lowly into her ear, causing Y/N to squeak and blush bright red.

Optimus then grunted when he slammed one last time and released his transfluid. Y/N screamed so quietly that Optimus found it cute like from Japanese anime. Y/N panted and sighed in bliss. She was then gently lifted up so that Optimus' spike would come out. It was limp. Optimus then laid down with Y/N on top of him. He covered his mate up with a blanket and kissed her forehead. Both of them fell asleep.

youtube

#lemon #bayverse #optimus prime x reader #optimus prime #transformers #tf #transformers 4 #age of extinction #aoe #tf 4 aoe #human reader #reader

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fletchphoenix · 3 years

Text

Little Secret

Okay this is chapter 9 of the High School AU

PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION - TW for an attempt at s**c*de, s*lf h*arm and some other morbid shit. please don’t read / skip over the italics if you aren’t comfortable reading about those topics. Please. This is more of a vent piece as well but please be careful.

I love you all so so much.

As Hugo left, Varian let himself lay back on his bed and let out a huff. Wincing at the constricting feeling in his chest, he changed into his pyjamas and laid back in bed. Ruddiger, ever the saint, sat beside his head and let out gentle noises to soothe him, nuzzling his cheek against the boy’s as he calmed him enough to settle into a deep sleep.

----------------------

Teardrops dripped from his eyes and onto his phone as his breath shook with each inhale and exhale he took. Blue light from the screen stung the already teary eyes, the hurtful words that looked back at him instead of his reflection on the screen made the suffering even worse. His throat burned as he swallowed down acidic bile and his shoulders shook. Still, he couldn’t take his eyes away as the shock of the situation finally set in and his hand flew to his stomach, his gags finally ceasing after a few minutes.

He was well aware of the blood that rolled down his arm, indents from fingernails also stinging and buried deep into the pale, freckled skin that now had an ugly coat of scarlet that concealed them from his view. It ran down onto the bed steadily, not even ceasing as it still continued to run and flow across the expanse of skin and pool onto the sheets. They were red anyway. It fit right in, only a slightly deeper red than the covers.

Raising his head, he looked into the mirror - a true sight to see. Rather than a sight for sore eyes, he looked like something that would make someone gouge their eyes out. He wouldn’t blame them either. He felt like a freak, the weight of his secret almost crippling in his brain. Everything looked wrong about him - the way his hips jutted out too much for a boy, his overly feminine face, his chest...he wanted to rip that off. The material that constricted it made it almost hard to breathe every day, his chest heaving as he knew he had it on for too long, but he couldn’t risk taking it off. He just couldn’t.

Quirin had lost it when he found the last one, so buying a new one would be...too difficult. Well, as soon as the man had found out Varian’s secret, he’d lost it on the boy. Told him he’d ‘never be his son’ and refused to even look at him for a few days. He hated it when he cut his hair, even though he’d always kept it at a moderate length to keep Quirin happy. Well, if Quirin wasn’t going to call him his son, he wasn’t going to call him father.

What he hadn’t anticipated was this.

He only told one person his little secret. His almost deadly secret that he couldn’t risk getting spread because he’d already been transferred from Old Corona High to Saporia High, Old Corona apparently not being ‘good enough’. He’d left behind all his friend, everyone he’d ever cared about was gone and he wasn’t going back.

He met Andrew in his first week and almost instantly they’d bonded. They bonded over thinking the Corona High students were snobs and didn’t even deserve the air they breathed. He’d told Varian that everything he did was great and encouraged him to do more. He cared for Varian when his father was being difficult and had wiped away countless tears. He’d been there for him no matter what.

So he told Andrew his little secret.

He’d told Andrew. Andrew swore he wouldn’t tell anyone. Well, he swore until Varian befriended Rapunzel and her husband, Eugene. He didn’t even know he hated the pair, oblivious to the fact until Andrew had forced him to stop talking to them just the other day. Obviously he’d refused - why wouldn’t he? Rapunzel and Eugene cared for him. They loved him.

And so Andrew told everyone. Everyone in Saporia High knew his little secret, which is definitely not what he needed in a school that was almost built on republican values. It ached and pulled at his heart as he threw his phone across the room, it banging against the wall and he could swear he heard the shattering of the screen. It didn’t matter though anymore - not as if his father would have to fix it.

He rose to his feet. He had some business to attend to.

The burning returned as shaky legs dragged him towards the bathroom, fists clenched and locked himself in there, the tears still rolling down his cheeks. He felt too warm all of a sudden, sweat gathering and forming beads along his eyebrow as he heaved for breath and a pain spread and blossomed throughout his chest. He’d closed his eyes as he pulled off his shirt before he opened his eyes and stared at the binder that covered his chest. He wasn’t right. He didn’t know why he was born the way he was. The still shaking hands raised to open the glass cabinet in front of him as he took out two containers of pills. If he wasn’t gonna be listened to, he’d make them hear him.

The next time he woke up, all he heard was the persistent beeping of a monitor. A heart rate monitor. He remembered that from when his mother was in hospital. His vision was still blurred as he looked around the room, faces of doctors with masks and nurses opening doors appearing first, then the face of a familiar blonde rushing to his bedside as soon as the aforementioned door was even the slightest bit open.

“Rapunzel.” He coughed, forcing a smile onto his features. Everything ached. His stomach ached. He let out a wheezy cough as a dainty hand was raised to press against his cheek, the touch welcome and spreading a cooling touch against his skin. He felt too hot. Far too hot. He assumed that was normal, the humid air of the hospital being uncomfortable. The place was too sterile as well, too uniform.

Distantly, he heard screams of ‘Vivian! I want to see my daughter!’. Quirin. He raised his head from the comforting hand pressed to his cheek and dread filled his stomach. “Please don’t let him in.” He gulped, Eugene moving away from the bedside to stand in front of the door and help the staff holding the man back.

Rapunzel gripped his hand, a poor distraction as Eugene stopped Quirin from entering. “Oh Varian, we were so worried.” The soothing tone of the woman replied, the yelling outside ceasing as Eugene took a glance over. In fact, Lance and the girls were there as well as Cassandra and her girlfriend. A sad smile graced his features as he leant into the hand resting on his face and tears rolled down his cheeks.

“...And for as long as I live, you’ll never see him again!” The finishing yell of Eugene declared as the door to his room slammed shut and he rushed to his side, giving a silent nod to Rapunzzel. “Kid, you’re living with us. I’ll go get all your stuff and whatever you need, I just...fuck, kid. You should’ve told us sooner. We could’ve helped you, V. We didn’t know it was...that it was that bad. I just...fuck. I'm so sorry, Varian. I’m so sorry.” He explained, very clear tears welling in the man’s eyes as he apologised profusely to the boy.

By the end of the week, Eugene and Rapunzel had helped him move out and set up his room in the attic of their house. He didn’t want to be an inconvenience to them, but the couple seemed to welcome him with open arms as they took him away from Quirin. They’d also arranged for him to start at Corona High instead, having helped him legally change his name to Varian. No one would know other than the teachers.

Thank god.

------------------------

Varian woke up with a start, sitting up and wheezing. Oh, that was right. Hesitantly, the boy gripped at the sheets before removing his shirt and the binder residing under it before putting the shirt back on again. Rapunzel had always been sure to tell him when he had to take it off, ever the observant. She’d also always been the one to tell him to take his hormones. He knew she and Eugene loved him even after he came out.

But would Hugo? Well, that was a whole different story but...fuck it.

His fingers drifted to pick up his phone. 2:37am. He took a deep breath. He was sure Hugo would still love him either way, even if he wasn’t a biological boy. He was still Varian and he was still the boy Hugo fell in love with. Inner turmoil filled him as he let out a determined breath and dialled his number before raising the phone to his ear. There was no going back.

“Sweetheart, what’s up?” The raspy voice on the other end asked. God, he sounded amazing. Guilt still settled in his stomach as he took a large gulp. Shit, he was calling Hugo at 2am. They had school tomorrow and he’d probably woken the other up. Oh fuck, he’d certainly hate him now- “Baby, you gonna talk? I’ve gotta finish this level on-”

“I’m trans. Well, I was a girl. But I’m a boy. Well, I was never really truly a girl, I’ve always felt like a boy and I guess what I’m trying to say is I’ve always been a boy but I have a girl’s body and I thought you should know.” He stuttered out, silence meeting him on the other end of the phone. He facepalmed mentally, wanting to just curl up and die. Was he really this awkward? Why couldn’t he have just been normal and told Hugo face to face. ‘Hello my ridiculously handsome boyfriend, I’m transgender and I hope you love me!’

“Oh..” The other finally said. Varian could tell he was carefully choosing his next words, he could practically hear the cogs in his head turning in the deafening silence. “Well, I still love you and that isn’t gonna get rid of me, V. But thanks for telling me. You’re still my amazing boyfriend and I don’t love you any less.”

“Thanks Hugh. Sorry, I’ll let you finish your game. I uh-I love you. Goodnight.” He replied, hanging up and setting his phone aside as he stared at the ceiling. Hugo didn’t care. Hugo still loved him either way. A warm feeling filled his chest and a goofy grin took over his features as he slowly, but surely, fell into a deep and very happy sleep.

#varian tangled #tangled varian #varigo #varian and the seven kingdoms #tangled hugo #hugo x varian #hugo tangled #varian x hugo #tangled the series #rapunzels tangled adventure

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tiffdawg · 4 years

Text

Just Another Mission | An Agent Whiskey x Reader Fic

Gif: @javier-pena

Pairing: Jack Daniels/Agent Whiskey x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 3.1K

Rating: T | Warnings: None. This is literally all fluff. Fake marriage and sharing-the-only-bed tropes included!

A/N: Hi! Please enjoy this trope-ridden, cliché-filled Agent Whiskey x reader story that popped into my head at 2am the other night and demanded to be written. I blame everything on Pedro Pascal.

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

... . ...

Just Another Mission

Since taking on the mantel of Agent Rosé at Statesman, you’d been partnered with Agent Whiskey on numerous missions over the years. On paper, this was just another mission. It really shouldn’t have been any different from the rest. The two of you were tasked with infiltrating an insider trading ring on Wall Street that was doing enough damage to the stock market for Statesman to take notice. It was certainly nothing out of your ordinary purview.

As such, you and Agent Whiskey were going undercover as the heads of an up-and-coming southern investment firm looking to expand up north. In order to give your assumed identities a bit more depth and secure invitations to the criminal group’s private social events, your handler back at HQ thought it would be helpful if the two of you went undercover as a married couple. A regular twenty-first century power couple, if you will. The men and women involved in the insider trading ring, for all of their faults, seemed to be family-oriented people. Or, at the very least, beach parties for the kids in the Hamptons and private dinners at the Upper East Side’s finest restaurants with spouses served as the perfect pretext to meet to trade secrets, negotiate deals under the table, and discuss illicit plans for the future.

It almost seems odd that after all of your shared missions, the two of you have never pretended to be married as part your cover story before. But, as you stand in the doorway of your luxurious Manhattan hotel room, you were starting to see the benefit of not posing as a couple. You were also beginning to suspect your handler might be playing some sort of cruel joke on you.

Of course, in order to maintain your cover, she only booked one hotel room for the pair of you. It bolstered your cover story with the hotel staff and in the likely instance you were followed back to your hotel, it would help you keep up appearances. And, of course, there’s only one bed.

“Well, Agent Rosé, we are supposed to be married,” Whiskey quips with a wink as he moves past you into the lush, gilded room. Clearly, your displeasure is written all over your face.

You roll your eyes at your hotshot partner’s receding figure before following after him. You do your best to shake yourself out of it because you really don’t have any time to worry about something as trivial as an unexpected, slightly inconvenient sleeping situation. Instead, you refocus on the mission, hoisting your overpacked suitcase onto the downy, king-sized bed. You dig out the dress keeper and peruse your options for a moment before selecting an elegant black gown with matching evening gloves for the gala you were attending that night. It would be your first appearance as Mr. and Mrs. Castillo and the perfect opportunity to charm your way into the inner circle of the one percent. That is your priority.

… . …

Hours later, after an evening of drinking the best champagne, dancing with your fake husband, and successfully socializing with your targets, you’ve finally returned to your lavish Midtown hotel for the night. With your gloved hand still resting on the crook of Whiskey’s elbow, he leads you from the elevator to the door of your shared suite. He’s recounting a story about a time he talked his way out of a rather precarious standoff involving international arms dealers, a former US ambassador, and the disgraced prince of a small European country. You’re so absolutely enthralled by his story and the silky southern accent that drips off of his every word that for a split second you forget that you’re not actually married to the man on your arm. The thought startles you and you quickly remove yourself from your fellow agent, brushing past him when he eventually swings open the door to your shared room.

Aside from the occasional question about something that was said at the gala, things are quiet as you both type up your mission reports for the day. He finishes first, which is surprising for someone who’s known to be a bit long-winded, and disappears into the ensuite. Perhaps you would’ve completed yours by now if you didn’t steal glances at your fellow agent in between every sentence. Your eyes are practically crossing when you finally submit your report. It’d been a productive day, but you are more than ready to sleep for the next eight hours.

“What are you doing?” you inquire with a light laugh. You’d just finished your nightly routine in the bathroom and emerged to find Whiskey attempting to stretch out his long form on the loveseat sofa.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he retorts back. “I’m going to sleep so I can be well rested for our champagne brunch with the Montgomery’s at the grand old Plaza tomorrow morning.” After a quick glance at the clock on the nightstand he amended with a sigh, “Or rather, later today.”

“On the couch?” you ask, playing with a loose string on the hem of your much-too-short sleep shorts.

“Well, where else would you like me to sleep, darlin’?” he asks in response. You don’t even flinch at the pet names anymore and instead the moniker pulls at something in your chest. Part of you thinks it’d be best for both of you to just leave it at that. He’s trying to be the gentleman and if he sleeps on the couch, all of your problems would be solved. Another part of you…well, you don’t want your partner running on fumes with a stiff neck while you’re in the middle of a mission, do you? Your eyes flick over to the bed and their movement doesn’t go unnoticed by the attentive agent. “Now, I know I may push my luck flirting with you, sweetheart, but I never want to make you uncomfortable. I’m fine spending the night here on the sofa.”

“Who said I would be uncomfortable, Jack?” Your words come out quieter than you intended, but you know he heard you. Rather than wait for him to reply, you crawl into bed, leaving plenty of space for him to join you. After a long moment of consideration, and a forlorn look back at the stiff, overstuffed sofa, he relents.

Unsure how to position yourself with your fellow agent in bed with you, you toss for quite a bit. When you roll over for the fifth time, finally deciding that facing away from him would be the best option, he reaches out and pulls you securely into his chest. You gasp, surprised at his bold move, but find that he feels warm and solid against you. You’re so close you can feel his heartbeat behind you, drumming a steady, spellbinding rhythm. His arm stays wrapped around your waist, almost reassuringly, and your body relaxes into his.

“You settled now?” he asks, and you can just about hear his grin.

“Yes, I am,” you whisper back.

“And you’re still comfortable with this arrangement?” His voice is lower, little more than a breath against the shell of your ear but he’s not flirting with you now. His usual confidence is gone, replaced by the slightest hint of nervousness.

“Very much so. I promise,” you answer genuinely, resting a light hand over his where it sits against your abdomen in the soft space below your ribs. His only response is a slight squeeze around your waist.

With that, your eyes close and you let yourself drift off with the sound of his steady breathing behind you to lull you to sleep.

… . …

Much of your second day in the city was spent wining and dining a pair of your targets, another husband and wife duo. She was the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and he was the sole heir to an old New England fortune. You and the Mrs. stole away for a bit in the afternoon to do some shopping on Fifth Avenue. While Statesman had allotted you quite the budget to keep up the appearance of a certain lifestyle, you weren’t sure how Champ was going to feel about your new Chanel pocketbook. It might not have been a strictly necessary purchase, but it was an excellent way to bond with one of your main targets.

“You and your husband make quite the pair,” she says while running her painted fingers over a stack of silk scarves at Saint Laurent. “He’s so obviously smitten with you.”

You preoccupy yourself with the rows of oversized sunglasses, hoping to hide your uneasiness at her comment. At least you and Whiskey were selling the married couple bit.

“I got lucky,” you reply with a lighthearted laugh.

That night, he’s already in bed when you come out of the bathroom. You can’t help but watch him for a minute from the threshold. He’s sitting up against the headboard wearing a white tee shirt that only accentuates his broad figure and, you presume, he’s reading over mission files on his tablet as his eyes scan the screen from behind thick rimmed glasses. You’d learned over the years that his swagger, while not entirely unwarranted, often covered Jack’s studious, serious side. He is an effective agent because of his hard work, diligent research, and careful planning. It isn’t a side of himself he showed many people, but you are among the privileged few.

After a moment, he meets your gaze from across the room. His eyes trail over your body, taking in your sleep shorts and oversized shirt, and a soft smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. You were well accustomed to his appreciative looks, but this was different, almost intimate.

“Well, darlin’, are you about ready for bed?” he asks. The question, while perfectly valid, struck you as something so wholesomely domestic.

You nod and offer him a small smile before slipping into bed next to him. He considers you for a moment longer then sighs to himself and tosses his tablet and glasses on the nightstand before switching off the light.

Cloaked in darkness, the two of you lie silently next to each other for a moment. Only the quiet hum of the air conditioning fills the room. But it’s anything but peaceful, and the longer you stir in silence, the worse this tension coiling between you and Whiskey gets.

“Jack?” you finally call out to him, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he responds. The sheets rustle as he turns to face you. You seek out his eyes in the darkness with only a sliver of moonlight peeking through the drawn curtains to help you.

“Will you hold me like last night?” you ask tentatively.

“Baby girl, I thought you’d never ask.”

You meet in the middle of the bed. His arms wrap around you as you lay you head on his chest, fisting the fabric of his shirt with one hand in a vain attempt to pull him closer as if your bodies aren’t already perfectly flush. You breathe in his familiar scent, something deep and rich and completely Jack Daniels, and you nearly sob at the relief of finally feeling him against you again. You’re almost ashamed to say you’d been craving it ever since you untangled yourself from his grasp this morning. You don’t know how this happened; how this man, your coworker and partner, cast this spell over you so quickly. But as he strokes your back with a gentle hand, you start to accept that it was there for a long time. And you hope that he feels it, too.

… . …

With everyone presumably at work on a Monday in New York City, you and Agent Whiskey decide that’s the perfect time to do some investigative work at your targets’ private homes. It’s no easy task considering they all live in the best (and most secure) penthouse apartments and spacious townhomes money can buy in Manhattan, but things went surprisingly well with only a few minor hitches throughout the day. At least things were going well until you discovered your final mark had recently upgraded the security system for their Park Avenue townhome and then things went south. Fast.

You’d passed most of the evening arguing with your partner, albeit in hushed tones so as not to alert the other hotel guests. While you and Whiskey had your fair share of disagreements in the past, you both have a bit of a stubborn streak in you, this fight is particularly ugly.

Eventually, you decide you’ve had enough of him and so you lock yourself in the ensuite, hoping to drown your frustrations in a piping hot forty-five-minute shower. You spend most of your shower doing little more than standing directly under the stream of water and counting to ten repeatedly while attempting breathing exercises Ginger Ale had taught you in an effort to reign in your anger.

He’s gone when you exit the steamy bathroom and for a minute you worry. Then you quickly decide it’s not your place to worry about the man and you throw yourself dramatically onto the bed with the intention of forcing yourself to fall asleep before he returns.

When he finally slips back into the dark room an hour later, you’re still wide awake. Out of spite and stubbornness, you give him no indication of that fact. You are, however, surprised when he climbs into bed next to you. You figured tonight he really would opt for the uncomfortable couch rather than sleep next to you. After some time, you fall asleep with your backs turned to each other. You can’t help but think that the distance between the two of you has never felt greater.

It couldn’t have been more than a couple hours later when you wake from a fitful sleep with the disheartening realization that you were both a little right and a little wrong. It leaves a horrible, sinking feeling in your stomach until you just can’t take it anymore. It’s the middle of the night, but you have to apologize right now. You reach across him to turn on the light and your light movements jostle the bed enough to wake him. Although, from the look on his face, you suspect he wasn’t sleeping well either.

Jack sits up so that he’s facing you fully and eyes you with an arched brow, patiently waiting for you to speak. Meanwhile, you’re chewing at your bottom lip and struggling to find the right words to express yourself now that you’ve got his attention.

“Do you know why I like working with you?” you finally ask, measuring each word carefully. “You’ve never doubted my abilities as an agent. Not because I’m a woman or because of any other stupid reason. You’ve always made me feel like your equal. Until today.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’. Truly, I am,” he answers seriously. His accent lacks the usual playful tone. “For a moment there I was sure I was going to lose you and I panicked, and I know now I should’ve listened to you. But please believe me when I say that I’ve never doubted you. Not once. The only thing I doubted today was my ability to keep you safe.”

“That’s not your job,” you assert.

“Like hell it isn’t,” Jack responds sternly. “You’re my partner.”

You nod, acquiescing. You couldn’t argue with that even if you wanted to; his safety is just as important to you. You take a deep breath before continuing. This is always the hardest part. “I’m sorry, too. For the way I reacted today. I was frustrated and it could’ve cost us this mission.”

“All is forgiven. You know that.” You sigh in relief when he hits you with one of his beaming smiles. The kind that makes his eyes crinkle in the corners. “You gonna let me hold you now?” he asks as he relaxes back into the plush pillows, gesturing to the space beside him. “I don’t know if I can sleep without you anymore.”

“After two nights?” you ask teasingly with a soft laugh.

“Best sleep I’ve gotten in a long time,” he says with a wicked grin. You can’t help but return the smile, knowing exactly what he means.

“Not yet,” you say coyly, summoning every ounce of courage you have before tentatively brushing your lips against his. You try to pull back so you can gauge his response, but there’s no need as he cups your face in his hands and brings your lips right back to his. This time the kiss is eager, hungry, and you return his enthusiasm with equal fervor. Your lips meld together perfectly and when his tongue slides into your mouth, you can’t help the little moan that escapes you.

When you finally pull apart, gasping for air, you both break out into a fit of laughter. This was probably a long time coming and yet it managed to catch you both by surprise. He places a few imperfect kisses, warped only by his smile, across your face and you fall back into bed with him.

The word love imprints itself into your mind as you hold his gaze, but you don’t speak it into existence. Not yet. Even though the look in his eyes tells you he’s thinking the exact same thing. You just know he is because after all these years together you can read Jack Daniels like a book. But this thing between you is new, precious even. Maybe it’s been there for a while, but you’re only just now ready to accept it and there’s no need to rush things. Better to let it mature in its own time because you know it’s going to age well, just like fine whiskey.

“Goodnight, Jack,” you whisper instead. You plant a light kiss on his soft lips, smiling as his mustache tickles you, before snuggling into the crook of his neck.

“I’m definitely going to sleep well now, my sweet girl,” He murmurs as he hugs you against him. In that moment you feel so safe, so cherished, so incredibly happy. Until- “Even if you do snore.”

“I do not!” you gasp and try to wriggle free so you can glare at him. He only laughs and holds you tighter, his arms wrapping firmly around you.

“Yeah, you do. Soft, little snores,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, it’s cute.”

... . ...

Thanks for reading!

Edit: find part two here!

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #kingsman: the golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #my writing #my fic #fic: just another mission

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years

Text

Sinners & Saints-Chapter 9

A special thanks to @statell for all your help and wisdom

Previous chapters on AO3

Chapter Nine (NSFW)

Claire and Maia packed all the personal belongings until late into the night. Claire and Jamie would leave with the helicopter in the morning and Darius would take the boat to the island of Mykonos where it would be stored in dry dock, under cover.

“Thank you for helping me, Maia. I think we’re done and if we forgot something I’ll buy it new. Get some sleep dear one, tomorrow starts early.”

Claire pulled on a black silk suit with a short skirt, tailored jacket, and starched white shirt. Black heels and the blonde wig transformed her into the billionaire’s wife, and she walked with purpose onto the forward deck with the kitten tucked under her arm. The men swiveled their gaze, stuck on the long legs coming toward them.

“Good morning gentlemen, this my engineer…” Claire froze mid-sentence realizing they had not talked about Jamie’s name for introductions. Jamie smiled and extended his hand introducing himself as Gregory Patton.

“Ah, yes, Gregory.” They piled into the chopper and watched Darius wave from the deck before running to pull anchor and make way for Mykonos.

Jamie watched the pilot openly flirt with Claire and shoved his hands under his legs to keep from balling his fists. Thomas was giddy with the almost three-hundred thousand he made in two hours of work, so he was oblivious to everything. When the yacht came into view Jamie was enchanted. It was all white and huge compared to the other boat with three decks in the back, and two in the front. He forced himself to look out the window at the ocean to hide his wonder.

Claire and Jamie walked into the saloon as the chopper was already in the air. They were met by the owner’s wife who looked very distressed. Claire smiled and held her hand out asking if everything was alright.

“Yes, Misses Dunn but I’m afraid Adso is very unhappy today and unwell. He forgets so much these days and he doesn’t want to lose his beloved boat. It’s time for us to go ashore and be looked after by our children. Please understand if my husband is short with you.”

“I promise, and I understand. Who would want to part with this?”

They found the owner on the upper deck sitting in shade looking like he lost his family, his dog, and his best friend. Claire felt tears press against her eyeballs and took a deep breath. At that moment she shed her impersonation and became Claire, the compassionate, loving, woman Jamie fell in love with.

“Mister Rosen! How nice to see you again. This is Gregory, my engineer. I understand the money has been transferred and you have papers for me to sign.”

He didn’t look up at her or acknowledge Jamie. Claire sat down next to him as his wife explained she had purchased the boat and they would soon have to leave.

“Before you do, I was hoping you could give me the history of the boat and what it can do. Like, what are the upgrades and why did you choose them, what is the farthest you have taken it?”

When he didn’t respond she asked, “what did you love most about this boat?”

He seemed to grunt and liven up a bit, looking at her and the kitten.

“What’s that?”

“This is my kitten. It will live here on the boat with me.”

“What’s its name?”

“Adso.”

“Adso? That’s my name.”

“Well, that is fitting, isn’t it? Now then, what kind of adventures can I have on this magnificent boat?”

That seemed to break the older man out of his shell. He reached out to stroke the kitten and smiled as he launched into his stories of the exciting places they had been on the yacht. Claire’s probing questions kept him talking and Jamie watched him look younger with each sentence. Claire talked to him like they were old friends, took her jacket off and put her feet up. Jamie was ready to burst with pride in her and her compassion for the old man.

After two hours of laughing and storytelling, the wife told Adso it was time to go. The man looked at Claire with such excitement and said he was glad she would live here from now on.

“One more thing, sir. Whenever you want to spend a day exploring please do it with me.”

It was a great way to put closure on a difficult transition. He would always be welcome. Adso’s wife hugged Claire hard, knowing she just spent two hours out of the kindness of her heart and she loved her for it. She took her husband’s arm and walked across the saloon where their trusted captain waited to tender them ashore.

“You know, I think the engineer is sweet on our Mary, ha!”

Claire watched the tender pull away from the boat with a tear in her eye. Strong arms encircled her waist and Jamie’s silky voice spoke his pride, devotion, and love into her ear.

“Are you ready to see your new home handsome?”

“Lead on love.”

They started below deck in the engine room and laundry, came up one flight to the guest cabins and crew area with a separate kitchen and living area, up another flight to the main saloon and forward deck with a shaded area and table for dining and a sun area with lounge chairs, they went up a flight to a second saloon with full media support for movies and television with a second forward deck. Up another flight to the bridge with the captain’s quarters and the sun deck. Jaime was confused because they reached the top deck, but he hadn’t seen the master bedroom. Claire led him down to the main saloon showing the dining area, the galley, and straight ahead was the entrance to the master suite that blew Jamie’s mind. The level of luxury was astounding and beautiful. There was a separate deck for this bedroom that gave them privacy from the world. Large windows in the bedroom and bathroom, and a sixty-inch flat-screen that rolled out on command.

“Well, how do you like your new boat sweetheart.”

Jamie stood and caressed her cheek, holding her to him. “This is Mary Dunn’s boat and I will think of you every day for the rest of my life, on this amazing yacht. It’s my gift Claire, a trinket compared to how much I love you.”

Claire wiped her tears and gave a brave face, “I have something to celebrate our new home, I hope the Rosen’s left some glasses.”

The galley had a full service for eight; glasses, dishes, flat wear, stem wear and serving bowls. Claire pulled two glasses and opened the one bag she brought on the helicopter. She set the bottle of fine whisky and two glasses on a tray and went to Jamie on the forward deck. They toasted their new home and kissed, another glass and another kiss, the third glass made them lose themselves in a kiss that was life-sustaining for them both and they stopped thinking of life alone.

“Jamie, I remember you have a birthday this month, is that right? It was in the Louvre when we spent the afternoon talking and admiring the art. I believe the date is the twenty-first?”

“What a memory mo chridhe. The only thing I remember from that day is your skirt being pulled up by the wind, and how much I wanted to kiss you.”

She pulled his arms around her and looked at his half-smile. “Am I right?”

“Aye, you’re a clever lass.”

“I want to make your birthday memorable, what is your pleasure?”

“Marry me, Claire Beauchamp.”

She had not heard her real name in quite some time and to have it linked with a proposal made her eyes sting with tears. Jamie hugged her and asked if that was a yes and then chuckled at her tearful response that it was. He hugged her to him and felt humbled that she would pledge herself to him with such an unknown future.

“I’m not going back, Claire. I figured I couldn’t outrun them with face recognition in all the airports, banks, even department stores. Fingerprint evidence left behind everywhere I went, they would catch me eventually so I didn’t see any possibility of running. All that changed when you bought this boat, Sassenach. We just stay on the water and keep moving.” He touched her cheek, “it’s not perfect, but I will be so damn grateful for every day I have with you.”

Jamie kissed both of her wet cheeks and then a long kiss to her mouth, full of promises and love.

The sound of a boat horn pulled them apart and they looked for the boat that was pulling up to the aft deck to offload all their belongings. Darius boarded the yacht and worked the hydraulics for lowering the back platform where they all pulled bag after bag out of the arriving boat. Darius thanked the man who shuttled them back from Mykonos and Jamie handed the man a one hundred dollar bill which made him very happy.

The platform was raised back to its resting position and Claire looked at an exhausted captain and first mate. It was quite an undertaking to prepare a yacht for dry dock. A checklist that required several hours to complete and then pulling their belongings to the transport boat that would take them back.

“As the owner of this craft, I order you two to your quarters until dinner. Take whatever you need to get out of those uniforms and disappear.”

Darius looked at all the bags to be brought in and Claire exerted her position over the tired captain.

“That is an order captain, be gone with the both of you.” She smiled at Maia and felt bad she handled so much alone, the poor girl was about to collapse. “Wait! You are both required on the front deck for five minutes please.”

Claire poured four glasses of whisky, thanked them from the bottom of her heart, and they threw them back. “Now you can go.” She couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out when she was commanding but noticed the other couple did not argue. They were too tired.

The day was overwhelming for everyone. Claire had tempted Jamie’s sexual appetite too many times throughout the day, with marriage proposals, touring the boat, an intimate introduction to their bedroom. By dinner time he felt like a live wire and could not relax. Claire surprised everyone with a lovely chowder of leftover lobster, snapper, potatoes, cabbage, onions, and spices. She served the other three at the table and set warm rolls on the table as well as a large salad. It was delicious and she seemed so happy to do it, even Maia was happy to be served.

The frumpled couple retired to their rooms straight away and Claire cleared the table and started cleaning up. Jamie held her wrists to prevent her from grabbing another plate to rinse and turned her around kissing her soundly.

“Let me finish so you can get ready for bed. I want to sleep for twelve hours with you in my arms, but we have other business to attend to first.” He pulled her hand to his concrete erection and she gasped, smiling slyly.

Jamie made short work of the remaining dishes and slammed the dishwasher closed. His long arms reached every last crumb on the table and counters and leftovers were stowed in the vast refrigerator. He locked up, turned lights off, set the alarm, and grabbed the whisky and glasses on his way to the master cabin. When he stepped under the rainbird shower-head he decided it was the most exquisite shower he had ever felt. Entering the bedroom he noticed the covers turned down, but he was missing one fiancé. He looked beyond the huge sliding glass door and saw his love reclined on a double lounge. She was naked and he stepped into a beautiful night with his love ready to ease his pain.

“On your back, soldier.”

She stretched her long legs on either side of him and brought her warm mouth down on him tenderly, slowly, feeling him fill her to her throat. He moaned and gripped the lounge to keep his hands from forcing her down on him. Jamie’s head was spinning in her erotic ministrations and groaned when she straddled him, sliding her body down on him with a moan. He watched her in the moonlight, so beautiful, so lost in her arousal. He knew she had changed in the time they were together but had not the brain space to figure it out right then.

Claire was swept away with carnal love and she watched Jamie’s face feeling more and more out of control.

“Come for me lass,” was the last thing she heard before the winds of erotic release made her deaf and her body left the earth in the pulsing delight that rolled through her.

Jamie held himself back until he watched her face in orgasmic release and he groaned pulling her hips down on him until he was spent. He carried her to the enormous bed, laying her on soft cool sheets, a gift from the owner. When he turned off the lights, he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, and it took a while to find his future wife. He held her close and thanked God for such a spectacular woman, come what may.

The tall man covered ground faster than the average human due to his extraordinary stride. Usually an advantage he appreciated unless he was on his way to a dreaded appointment, like today. The Senator’s secretary didn’t move fast enough for Hesser, so he strode into Frank’s office and told him to hang up the phone.

“Nice of you to barge in this morning. What do you want?”

Hesser almost felt sorry for the ignorant punk in front of him who could no more win the gubernatorial race than fly to the moon. He needed Hesser behind him and Doctor Beauchamp at his side if he had a chance in hell.

“We are running out of time to bring your bride back Randall, let’s take a look at some possibilities of where she might be. We know she was in Chicago, Paris, Italy, where else might she have friendlies that would give her shelter? What languages does she speak?”

When Frank didn’t jump to answer the question, Hesser stood up and grabbed his collar yanking him to his feet.

“You better take this seriously Randall, without her you lose and your career is over. You are here because we want you here, it’s not your merit or sparkling history in politics you sanctimonious idiot. Let’s add worthless to that list.”

Hesser was disgusted leaving Frank’s office and dialed his cell phone as he left.

“I need fifty more agents assigned to the Beauchamp case. I will send you their destinations in an hour. Make the travel arrangements and copy the dossier for each of them.” He clicked off his cell and tried to remember which of the Greek islands they visited on their honeymoon. He couldn’t remember a single one and barely remembered his ex-wife's face now.

The moment Claire’s eyes opened in the morning her heart rate bounced into the happy zone and everything she saw made her want to jump up and down. After a delightful shower, she pulled on a bikini followed by shorts and a loose top. Her shipmates were in the galley preparing breakfast, decidedly concerned over the lack of food.

“We have the same amount of food, it just looks sparse because the frig is bigger. Okay, okay, we will buy food today.” She laughed at the sad faces and left them to open the doors to the wonderful sea breeze.

Over breakfast Claire asked how long it was safe to sit on this anchor, “is it okay to just stay here for now?”

“No.” Darius finished his coffee and pulled Maia into his lap. “I need you to weigh in on this Maia so stay for a couple of minutes before you start cleaning up. I think it’s logical Hesser will search the Greek islands next because it makes the most sense, Italy to Greece. I say we move on to Croatia as soon as the supplies are restored. One more thing, you should go ashore as a blonde, just in case.”

“I agree Sassenach, or stay onboard and let the rest of us go ashore.”

“I need some things so I have to go, but I’ll wear the wig. Let’s split up, each with our own list, we won’t be as noticeable that way and only buy what you can carry to the beach.”

They went their separate ways and Jamie caught up with Darius on the bridge. He requested some time, so they sat in the captain's chairs and faced each other.

“You’re a captain of a ship Darius. Can you marry us?”

Darius looked long and hard at Jamie. “You’re both running for your lives and you want to get married?”

Jamie looked at his hands folded in his lap. “I suppose you feel there's a lifetime to do the important things, but I don’t feel that way. I asked her and she said yes, so we want to do this as soon as possible. We will say our vows in front of the Almighty and that’s enough for me.”

“Jamie, I can marry you in international water but I cannot file the marriage in Greece, or anywhere in the world, it will lead them to you.”

“It’s enough to know we did it and if something happens to us you can file the marriage certificate post humus.”

“Okay, that’s enough of that!” Darius got up shaking his head and turned to Jamie before he left the bridge, “I’ll marry you. We head 200 miles out for the ceremony and then set course for Croatia.”

Jamie felt tingling in his head and wanted to shout it out the window of the bridge. Several deep breaths and a smile that made his cheeks hurt were good enough. He joined the others for making lists to shop.

Claire ushered Maia into her room and led her out to the deck where they sat knee to knee.

“Jamie asked me to marry him.” She almost fell over when Maia launched herself at Claire in a happy hug. “I hope we can marry on the boat, but I want it to be special. I need a dress and some kind of decoration. Will you stay in town with me and help me?”

Maia’s eyes brightened and she stammered something about forgetting her whole list and sending the men back to the boat to unload.

“If we start early enough, we should have at least a couple of hours to shop.”

“Perfect! You are my best friend Maia.”

Little Maia blushed at that compliment because she had put Claire on a pedestal from the first day. She was deeply touched.

Jamie and Darius spent the afternoon spearfishing while Claire and Maia created lists for everyone, laid in the sun, and then gawked at the enormous lobster and grouper brought back by the men.

Jamie was fascinated by the hydraulics lifting the tender out of the water and seemed to never run out of questions when Darius was around. The next day he had the tender on the water, tied to the back of the yacht when Darius walked onto the aft deck.

“For a guy new to the water you learn fast. I appreciate the help and think it’s time you became a proper first mate if you want to.”

“Yes, I do want to but it will hurt Maia’s feelings.”

“That little beauty has very deep feelings but they’re limited to love, compassion, support, and stubbornness if that’s a feeling. You watch, she will start teaching you too and your head will spin from too much information.”

Jamie locked the boat alarm into his phone app and they piled into the tender to shop in Santorini. Between the four of them, Jamie carried the lion’s share of groceries back to the tender an hour later. Like on cue, Maia pulled a folded paper from her pocket and complained about forgetting most of the items on her list. Darius looked at all the frozen food and said he would be back to get them.

“So we meet here in four hours?”

“Four hours?”

Darius shook his head in agreement and the girls watched the tender speed away before they ran to a garment shop.

Claire was getting upset because she couldn’t find anything suitable. Maia looked around trying to help her friend and saw something perfect for the occasion. She brought it to Claire who looked it over with a critical eye.

“You will shine in this color Claire, the fabric is beautiful.”

Claire looked Maia up and down and strode across the dress shop to pick the same garment out for Maia who was thrilled with the gift. Claire would wrap herself in a soft sarong in deep blues and gold. Maia’s sarong was graduated pinks and dark green leaves sprinkled throughout. The garments felt luxurious and the women were happy. Claire inspected the men’s shirts and pulled a gorgeous white collarless linen shirt out for Jamie.

“Be a good girl and give this to Jamie tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, shit, there’s something else I need. Is there a place around here to get artist paint?”

“Yes, and I will get the decorations and champagne while you do that.”

Maia was gone in a puff before Claire could say a word. She found a nightgown that looked and felt much like the one she wore in Paris and then made her way to the craft store. Claire struggled with so many bags that were getting heavier by the minute. Maia swooped in on her and took half of them giving a puzzled look at the contents.

“It’s Jamie’s birthday tomorrow. I want to give him something from his past and hope he will try to paint again. I need to hide this stuff in a bedroom downstairs, can you help me?”

Maia looked at her like she was kidding and pointed to the tender as their feet sunk into beach sand. Fortunately, Darius came alone saying Jamie was preparing dinner and making quite a mess. Claire collapsed into her seat, exhausted from her shopping marathon. Once back at the yacht, Maia grabbed the bags with art supplies and pointed to others for Darius to bring. When Jamie came out he grabbed Claire for a long hug. He held her to him as he pulled the tender out of the water with the wench and stowed it safely in the boat garage, returning the back platform to its upright position.

“You're rather good with all these buttons handsome. It’s kinda hot.”

“That fits nicely into my plan Sassenach.”

“Which is?”

“Something to do with lobster, whisky, a slave to my pleasure and you … oh! Sorry love, I’m burning the rolls.”

Jamie ran into the boat heading for the galley and Claire shook her head and laughed.

Spirits were upbeat through dinner. They had food for several weeks, a plan to get to Croatia, and a wedding tomorrow. They were all very happy to embark on the next adventure. Maia cleaned up after dinner and Claire went up to the sundeck that had full-size mattresses across the deck that she could lay on. She smiled up at the stars and couldn’t wait to feel the wind in her hair when they were racing to Croatia.

“I’ve been looking high and low for you love. May I join you?”

“Actually, I think you will be very comfortable here Jamie. There are blankets under the bar if you get cold. I love you so much. See you tomorrow to take our vows.”

“But Sassenach, wait, what about a slave to my pleasure and ….”

“That I will surely be, tomorrow. It’s bad luck to be together before the ceremony sweetheart. I’ll miss you tonight.”

Jamie found himself alone on the upper deck, but the stars were brilliant diamonds sparkling in the black sky and he never tired of that grand view. He laid on his back and looked at them for exactly three and a half minutes then he fell asleep.

Claire arranged the canvases, paint, brushes, and other supplies in one of the bedrooms below deck. She prayed she was not overstepping but could not resist trying. He was a brilliant artist so how could he ignore such a big part of himself? She locked the door and went to her room. She was exhausted.

Darius went to sleep right after dinner. He would get up in a few hours and turn the boat toward the open ocean. It would take eight hours to reach international water and he hoped to be there before everyone woke up for the day.

Maia paced the lower saloon, checking her cell phone every other minute. She had slipped away from Claire when they were shopping to find the flower shop run by her brother’s best friend. He was happy to see her and helped her pick out three buckets of fresh flowers and garland. She gave him every penny she had, a gift to her friends. He was supposed to be here to drop them off and she started getting nervous. Another ten minutes and she got a text that he was at the aft deck. He kissed her cheek and waved, soon swallowed up by the black night. Maia stowed the flowers in the second refrigerator and sighed in relief before locking up and setting the alarm.

Jamie felt cool air on his face and opened his eyes. He could swear the boat was moving, and fast. It took a minute to remember why he was on the sundeck alone and by then he was sure they were moving. He walked downstairs to the bridge and almost scared the skin off of Darius.

“Jesus, Jamie, I didn’t expect anyone to be walking up on me. This baby is quiet, like a purring kitten. God, I love this boat!”

“Uh, where are we going?”

“You want to get married tomorrow, I mean later today, so we’re heading for international water, be there in four hours. I need something to munch on.”

Darius headed for the stairs to the galley and Jamie swiveled his head from the bridge to the retreating Darius.

“Don’t you need to drive the boat?”

Darius had a mouth full of food and shook his head trying to say autopilot. Jamie looked worried about going this fast with no one at the helm. Darius slapped him on the back, “if you’re not going back to sleep let me show you around the bridge. Why were you sleeping on the sundeck?”

“Claire says it’s bad luck to be together before the wedding.”

Darius laughed so hard he almost fell out of the captain's chair, “that’s rich, it’s what I love about women, they never make any sense when it comes to love.”

They could see the first rays of sunrise by six in the morning and it was the most beautiful sight Jamie had ever seen. He watched the colors change in the sky and on the water, purple, indigo, scarlet, orange, and a lite blue on the horizon. They were surrounded by water without a hint of anything else as far as the eye could see.

“Did you hear that?”

There was a crash below and both men stiffened and quietly crept down the stairs. Seeing a bucket of flowers come around the corner almost scared them half to death. Maia looked up at them on the stairs with a very strange expression and kept walking toward the forward deck. They got back to the bridge in time to answer the ringing phone.

"How long until we’re there?”

“Maybe an hour, why?”

“Drop it to five knots, the wind is blowing my flowers apart.”

Darius pulled the throttle back, “God she’s bossy sometimes.”

Claire stretched in her magnificent bed and smiled at the smell of bacon and sausage. When she realized this was the day she was getting married, she bolted upright in bed with a gasp. A minute later she was heading for the bathtub and panicked it was already nine o’clock in the morning. She opened the big glass door to the deck and looked around, she was pretty sure Santorini and all the moored boats were missing, in fact, she saw nothing but water on all sides and they were moving!

Maia brought a tray of food for her and explained that Darius left Santorini at one o’clock in the morning and they were now in international water.

“How does ten o’clock sound for your wedding?”

Claire swung her head from Maia to the bathtub to the sarong that hung on her closet door. Her face was pale and she nodded her head vigorously. Maia laughed and told her to relax and take her time.

Claire felt overwhelmed with bombarding emotions and wondered if Jamie was a basket-case too. He must be she decided. Meanwhile, Jamie and Darius crashed in the saloon watching a prerecorded game. Maia hung Jamie’s new shirt next to the couch he was sleeping on and decided to let them sleep for a while longer while she pressed Darius’s uniform.

At nine-fifty, Maia came down to the saloon with her new dress, makeup, and curly hair cascading down her back. He shook Jamie’s arm, and then Darius, and announced the wedding started in ten minutes. The two of them were blinking hard and shaking the sleep off as Maia handed Jamie the new shirt, clean jeans, and left giggling.

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp and James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser said the traditional vows on the main deck surrounded by their two close friends and sweet-smelling flowers. Neither had a certain future, both were being hunted, and they would never stop running, albeit in luxury. They seemed oblivious to their circumstances and kissed like they were all alone in the universe. Afterward, Maia brought out champagne and fluted glasses to toast the newlyweds.

At the same time, CIA agents were landing on every Greek island with an airport, while others flew into Athens and hired a boat to their assigned island. Five agents were pulled off Italy and sent to Greece for a total of fifty-five CIA agents looking for Claire and Jamie with eight by ten glossy photographs of face and body. They were told to follow and get their location but do not engage, that privilege was reserved for Hesser.

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aoifeanamadan · 3 years

Text

After School Special

Fandom: Minecraft YouTube rpf (mcyt)

Word count: 6488

Relationship: DreamNotFound (DreamxGeorgeNotFound)

Summary:

Montague versus Capulet, Taylor versus Katy, Dream versus George.

It was one of those fueds, the kind you barely even had to acknowledge. The sky is blue, we breathe air, Dream hated George.

Needless to say, neither of them were over the moon when they found out they had to spend two months working together in weekend detention.

Support this work on AO3 :)

Chapter Four: Hat Trick

Dream didn’t think texting George was meant to be this exciting. He didn’t think texting any of his friends was meant to be exciting point-blank . Not in the way texting George was. Every time his phone buzzed he was rushing to grab it, always on guard, always waiting. He had spent years calling his friends stupid for the way their faces lit up reading their phones. Now he was worse than all of them. But, it was different. This was George. And texting George was fun.

Dream was certain now that he was definitely funny. And he was smart, in the hard kind of way. He was unpredictable. Dream never knew what was coming. And he was nice to talk to. Every message sent, every message received, Dream felt them growing closer.

So, yeah, maybe his eyes were constantly scouring his phone screen. But he had a good reason. He was talking to George.

George, who said he didn’t normally talk to be people through the phone. He called it a handicapped form of communication, just as George-like as ever. Dream had forgotten to make fun of him for it, mind too busy with ‘ He doesn’t normally talk to people over the phone. He talks to you over the phone’. It meant he was special.

George (2:20 am)

i dont want to annoy you lol

Dream (2:20 am)

if you sending me memes at fuck o clock in the morning was annoying me i wouldn’t have kept sending them back

George didn’t read the message for a full minute. Staring at the tiny symbol, showing his message was unopened, Dream couldn’t bring himself to feel pathetic. In the back of his mind he thought he should, but the rest of him was buzzing. Every cell was humming with a new kind of want. He wanted to know what George thought, hear how he felt. It was overwhelming. There was no room left for shame.

George (2:23 am)

i dont want to keep you up

Dont you have that match tomorrow

Dream did. It was against ‘ Saint Joseph’s Preparatory Institute ’ a private school just half an hour away from Dream and George’s school. The kids there were spoiled in ways Dream found difficult to understand, summer homes in Italy and money thrown away on nights out in the city. The person Dream thought Geoge had been just two weeks ago was nothing compared to the Saint Joseph boys. It was as if all of them wanted to play God, a family of clashing entitled titans, a Grecian mess.

Dream was certain if anyone on his team brushed against one of their arms they’d be on the floor, crying for the referee. It was the first match of the season, only a challenge, but he had been preparing his boys for almost three weeks to make sure they didn’t give away any fouls. Even if it didn’t affect their standing in the league it would affect team morale. It was important. He wanted to win, just like he always did.

But, that night, Dream couldn’t have cared less. The match, less than 24 hours away, was pushed to the back of his brain. His entire frontal lobe was taken up with George’s words, glaring brightly up at him from his screen, awaiting Dream’s reply.

Dream (2:24 am)

ur coming right?

Dream hit send, he always did. He was a full-send person down to the bone. For him, it was easy. He did everything with complete confidence, full fucking send. He couldn't imagine it any other way, not when everyone was hanging off his every word. Shame was foreign to him.

But, the second he hit the arrow on that message, something foreign happened. His stomach knotted itself, his heart sped up. His eyes glued themselves to the screen, trapping him in the silence of his bedroom, waiting for any kind of reply. Dream didn’t understand why he cared so much about a stupid message.

No matter how hard he tried to tell himself to calm down, it didn’t work. His mind couldn’t be reasoned with. Logic was out the window, replaced with the thought of George standing on the sidelines while Dream scored a winning goal. His heart was in palpitations for an agonising 40 seconds. George’s message was the first morsel of food in a year to Dream’s hungry eyes.

George (2:24 am)

do you want me to

Dream was typing a response before he could think. He didn’t need to think.

Dream (2:24 am)

yes

It wasn’t until he sent it that he realised how it could be read. Desperate. It was overwhelming, this new way of thinking. Dream had never considered how other people might read his texts. His mind never had the time to consider how he was perceived, always racing away from him. This new thing, it was dwelling. Dream hadn’t dwelled before.

George (2:25 am)

okay

ill go then

everyone knows i love to spend my saturday evenings outside in the cold

Dream didn’t mean to grin the way that he did when he read the reply. He didn’t even notice the smile snaking its way onto his. He had never smiled at someone's texts before.

George (2:26 am)

what time

Dream didn’t mean to lie. But he did accidentally tell George to be there an hour early so they had more time, away from the pressure of his role as captain. By accident . He felt justified in his deceit, his new constant urge to make George his friend was enough to allow it. He wanted to be around him, talking and laughing, bickering and disagreeing and teasing. He wanted all of it, the before and after of the years of resentment. The new growing fondness that Dream was trying his best to ignore.

Above all, he wanted to be liked by George. He wanted the reassurance of his approval.

If George, who had hated him for years, who had been on the receiving end of his cold stares and scoffs, could like him then it would be sure. Dream could be certain that he was a good person.

They kept texting until George sent his death sentence, in the form of a digital message.

George (2:31 am)

go to sleep

And that was that. George’s status switched to inactive and Dream was left staring at the tiny dot where his green light used to be, the Daisy to his Gatsby.

Dream (2:31 am)

george

georgie

Dream forced himself to turn off his phone, it felt as if he was cutting off a hand. Giving up the hope of hearing anything more from George that night and accepting the isolation. But he could do it, almost happily, comforted by the knowledge he would see George the next day.

He recentered his weight and let his head sink into his pillow. It smelled old. Not bad, but old. Dream couldn’t stop himself from smiling, sad and gentle. He held his phone to his chest and squeezed. The metal didn’t move but his fingers ached with the force.

In the back of his mind, Dream realised it was dangerous. This smiling, this thing burrowing itself into his heart. But he couldn’t stop himself. He let himself imagine a world where he knew George fully, recognised every part of him as George. A jigsaw in the shape of a man where Dream knew the place of each part as if it were the back of his hand. It was a different kind of friendship than what Dream had known. He wanted to understand him, to uncover all the secrets he was holding so close to his chest. It felt as if knowing George was inevitable. And he wanted George to do the same to him, to see all of him and like it. To prove he could be known in full and still seen as himself, still Dream. Still human.

Dream didn’t feel himself falling asleep but he didn’t wake up until 3 in the afternoon, his phone still lying over his heart.

Sapnap collected him before George, so he had time to explain his misleading statement before George got in the truck clueless at half four in the afternoon, three hours before the match started.

George understood what had happened once they arrived at the empty pitch. Dream was thankful he had briefed Sapnap before their arrival, because without Sapnap there he was convinced he would have ended up in a morgue.

Once George had accepted and made peace with the situation, that is to say 95 minutes and multiple very stern telling offs later, Dream and Sapnap decided the only natural thing to do was warm up an hour early.

With a ball from Sapnap’s truck, they started to pass gently to each other. George only managed to claim he couldn’t play for 10 minutes before Dream and Sapnap convinced him to join in.

Dream had been sure George was exaggerating his incompatibility with the sport. Fundamentally, it was just kicking a ball. But Dream was very wrong. Dream tried to tip him the ball, a gentle touch, but somehow George still fumbled it. He managed to stand on the ball three times before kicking it past Sapnap.

They spend half an hour trying to explain the basics of soccer to an increasingly annoyed George, who thanked God when the real team started to trickle in. It meant he was released from the seventh circle of hell - soccer drills

Dream went through the motions of his pre-match routine; the warm-up and laughter and tieing of boots. The coach, their chemistry teacher, arrived ten minutes before the match started. Dream gave a particularly rousing speech and then suddenly they were in the tunnel, waiting for the referee to call them onto the field.

Normally, the time in the tunnel made any other time spent on the field feel tiny, irrelevant. It was a place that didn’t obey the laws of time. Four seconds in the tunnel made a month on the field feel like maybe ten minutes.

That day, Dream had spent three hours on the field before the match. Normally, the tunnel would have made that feel like a millisecond. A blip.

But, Dream could recall the hours spent easily. He barely had to think before George yelling at him and Sapnap rushed to mind. George trying to score a goal from the penalty line, with no goalie, and somehow hitting the crossbar . George’s sigh of relief when he saw one of the players approaching to relieve him of his place in the drill. It was all cased in amber in Dream’s brain. It was proof that he had prepared for this match. There was a time before it and there would be a time after.

Standing on the tunnel, waiting to be called out to play the first match of the year, Dream was calm.

Before he could think too deeply, Sapnap turned to Dream. His eyes were almost pleading. He grabbed ream by the shoulders and tried to look deep into his soul.

“Promise me that you won't start any fights this time.” Dream couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. He never started fights, but he replied anyway to put Sapnap at ease.

“I promise I won’t start any fights.” Sapnap breathed a sigh of relief, ever the drama queen.

“Thank you.” Sapnap turned to head to the team huddle, everyone waiting for Dream’s final good luck. Before Sapnap could walk away Dream grinned, lopsided and hyper.

“I will finish them though.”

Dream was walking out before Sapnap could protest, the team behind him. Dream didn’t want to prolong their wait any longer. They knew what he was going to say, and he knew they didn't need to hear it. The atmosphere changed the second the crowd could see them

Oakland had walked out stiff and straight-backed. Proper as always. Beside them, Dream and his team’s causal jogs and crowd-pleasing waves were even more charming. Dream allowed himself a moment to revel in the cheers before locking his eyes on the ball.

Once he adjusted to the floodlights, Dream’s eyes raked over the crowds until they locked on George, leaning on the low fence. He shot him his lopsided grin and waved. He was charm personified. The crowd’s heads swivelled in search of the recipient, but no one looked at George smiling as he rolled his eyes.

Once the whistle was blown, the team came alive. The state champions ran circles around Oakwood. Dream was two-thirds of the way to his aspired hat trick by half time, with the total score at 4 - nil. Their team worked seamlessly together, everyone exactly where they needed to be. It was like watching a well-oiled machine, or embroidery at super speed.

Dream and Sapnap were shining through, their natural chemistry turned to telepathy on the soccer field. It was as if the ball was a piece of metal and they were the magnets. It stuck to them, gravitated to their feet.

By the second half, Oakwood were angry. It showed in their game. They started to slip up, losing easy balls. Their footwork got sloppy. But they also got more aggressive. Somehow, the referee was turning a blind eye to every misplaced kick and accidental shove in the back. But, Dream had trained everyone for this. They stayed calm, took their deep deep breaths and played fair.

Oakwood did not take the same approach. The more time they spent on the field, the rougher they played. Dream had cycled through six of the ten substitutes by the time the second half rolled around. He was convinced the referee had optional cataracts.

With twenty minutes left, Dream’s team were 3 goals up - the only three goals of the match. But, Dream was still a goal away from his hat trick, and he was getting tired.

The rest of the team was playing defence, just like Dream had told them to do during training. He had said it would be stupid to go for glory in this situation, three goals up and approaching the end of the match. It would be plain dumb.

Dream knew all this, thought about it even. He knew it was right, but he saw an Oakland striker, who he was not supposed to be marking, running up the field. He didn’t have the ball, it was on the opposite end of the pitch, but Dream could see it in his mind’s eye. Two easy, unlikely passes and it would be at the striker’s open feet.

There were other boys closer to him, it would’ve made more sense for them to run to mark him. It would have been easy. But Dream couldn’t stop thinking of the one goal he needed for a hat trick.

Aching feet and heaving lungs Dream ran towards him. The striker saw him coming from a mile off.

His leg connected with Dream’s, and suddenly Dream was on the floor clutching his shin.

At first, there was no feeling. Then, just as suddenly as the air had left Dream’s lungs when he hit the floor, there was intense pain.

Dream looked down at his leg, curled up on the floor. He couldn’t hear the referee’s whistle blowing. But he could see the blood.

Before he could make a scene, he was pushing himself up unto his feet. The Oakwood striker didn’t offer him a hand up.

Dream was sent off to the sidelines, limping with an arm around Sapnap’s shoulder. Someone’s mother was a nurse. She assured him it was just a surface wound. Dream saw his parents in the stand, he hadn’t noticed them before. He would’ve waved weakly, or shot them a thumbs up, but he couldn’t focus on them. His mind was racing through anger and pain and anger again.

From the bench, Dream nodded to Sapnap to take the penalty. It wasn’t a question.

He had to sit the final fifteen minutes out, screaming from the bench. The only benefit was George’s spot in the crowd behind him was right behind the bench. He was sitting with his friends, making sarcastic comments about Oakwood. It was nice to listen to, distracting.

With Oakwood playing a man down, the team won 4 - 0.

After the obligatory post-win speech, Dream enjoyed a long warm shower in the changing rooms. It was a scarce rarity for him, only his third long shower in the changing block in four years.

After, Dream was alone in the dressing room, all aching muscles and sore lungs. He was sitting on the bench, legs shaking with the exhaustion of it all. His hair was wet and his shoulders were slumped. There was a low humming echoing off the concrete walls. Dream barely noticed it. He had screwed his eyes tightly shut and had his head hanging between his shoulders. He was waiting there until it was firmly ten minutes since anyone had left, just like he always did. And he was humming, which he did not always do.

It was coming from the base of his throat. The tune of ‘Call Me Maybe’ was raspy, hidden under his breath. But it was there, soft and delicate. The rise and fall, the soft lilts. It made the cold of air of the changing room warmer, familiar. He didn’t think about it, didn’t imagine he would be heard. He just sat there, hair dripping and voice humming. It was tender and charged, too patient.

Hey, I just met you,

And this is crazy,

“Well done, you. You did great” George’s voice came from the doorway, distant and delicate. It shattered Dream’s bubble of gentle calm.

Dream’s brain froze. It caught him off guard, disarmed him. The softness of George’s tone. Too genuine. Before he could unfreeze his mind to think about it, George was talking again.

“Except when you fell. That was embarrassing.”

Dream lifted his head from the wall and cracked open his eyes. George was smiling softly at him. It made Dream feel as if he was bending back his ribs one by one to get a closer look at his panting heart. He couldn’t quite bring himself to stand.

“Brave words Mr Speed Chess.” This was easy, this was Dream and George. Sharp banter and too intense bickering. It was easier than the alternative, the thing Dream wanted once the sun went down. The symbiotic vulnerability.

Dream realised just how tired he really was, listening to his own fragile voice. He was sure George had to have noticed it too. He was sure his smile was too soft, his words too tender to be teasing.

He didn’t know what it was, this new wall he was building. This refusal to let George see him vulnerable. Dream tried to rationalise, call to mind the years of hatred and distrust. It didn’t work, he was met with the hours he and George had spent laughing, the simple rhythm they had so quickly fallen into. George’s quiet jokes, Dream’s beaming grin. There was no reason for this guard Dream was invoking. Yet still, he couldn’t stop it. The hand always hovering over his mouth, ready to slap it closed.

Sapnap was coming in behind George before Dream could leave himself exposed.

“I swear to God, whenever I see you two together it’s like I get to watch a chihuahua provoke a wolfhound." Sapnap was next to George in the doorway, grinning. Dream smiled back, heaving himself up off the bench. Dream wasn’t sure if he was meant to be the chihuahua or wolfhound.

“Fuck off, Sapnap.” He muttered it at the same time as George, shouldering his way past them towards Sapnap’s truck.

“You two are the closest thing I have to a real-life soap opera!” Sapnap was calling out as he followed behind. Despite his best efforts, Dream smiled.

Once the three of them were in the truck, they could really talk. Sapnap and Dream were trying to convince George to come to a party at one of the player’s houses in place of their normal bickering. It was only right to celebrate the win, but George was insisting he couldn’t go.

Dream and Sapnap had matching that’s bullshit looks on their faces,

Through a mix of begging and empty threats, they managed to get George to agree to come inside, just to congratulate the team.

He stuck to his word, entering, finding the team all together in the front room and saying a single ‘Great Game’. Then, he turned on his heel and made his way to the front door with his head down. Sapnap and Dream rushed after him.

By the time they caught up, his hand was on the doorknob. But, before he pulled it, he was turning his head to the space on his left. Dream and Sapnap were still standing in the doorway to his right.

“Bad?” Bad’s face lit up as he abandoned his conversation to turn towards George.

“George!” He ran to hug a laughing George.

“Since when were you the partying type?”

“Since when were you?”

Dream and Sapnap couldn’t believe they had forgotten to tell him Bad would be there.

Twenty minutes in, George was on his fifth shot. Dream and Sapnap looked like Christmas had come early. Bad looked like a concerned father spotting his child in the boxing ring with Muhammad Ali.

“George, oh my God! What are you doing?” George was drinking straight from the vodka bottle while Sapnap and George watched.

George kept drinking from the bottle until Bad took it off him.

“It’s been a boring week. I'm about to fix that.” Dream had never seen George like this.

George’s grin was devilish, the kind that would have made Dream’s heart flutter and stomach drop if he was a girl. But he was not a girl. And so he thought nothing of George’s gleaming teeth and impish eyes. Nothing.

One thing Dream realised, an hour into the party, was that George was just as clumsy with his mouth when he was drunk as his limbs when he was sober.

Dream was standing in one of the doorways to the kitchen, talking to a girl. She was nice. She liked swimming and pc gaming, not worlds away from Dream. He figured they could be friends. She left to dance with her friends and Dream left to get himself another drink. George was standing next to the spirits.

“She’s not good for you. She was a dick to my friends last year. Hell, even I would be better for you and you hate me”

He hated the way George made his breath stop with stupid comments like that. Dream gritted his teeth.

“Don’t hate you anymore, Georgie.” His shoulders were stiffer than he wanted them to be.

George grinned back at him and drawled.

“For now, Dreamer.”

That fucking grin, sprawling between his aristocratic cheekbones. And that fucking nickname. He hated the way it made his stomach flip, acrobatic routines in the pit of his stomach. Dreamer, Dreamer, Dreamer . A mantra.

“Are you drunk, George?”

George opened his mouth, ready to deny it, but the cogs of his brain snapped his mouth closed before he could get the words out.

“You know what? Nevermind, you’ll know I’m lying to you anyway.”

Dream didn’t know what it was, the resignation in George’s voice, the gentle familiarity. It made him mad. He made it make him mad, because the alternative was wobbly knees and blushing cheeks. And George didn't have the power to do that to him.

George grabbed his arm, slender fingers gripping strong.

“Come on, let’s dance.” He started to pull him towards the front room, where the speakers were.

“Wait, George, wait,” Dream pulled George back to him gently. He was still clinging to his arm. Dream shrugged him off as softly as he could. His touch felt like hot coals, the way it made Dream’s skin burn. He couldn’t handle it.

“Why?” Dream didn’t like the disappointment painted all over George, stitched on his face and laced through his muscles. He couldn’t hide his emotions the way he normally did. Not here, not drunk and tired looking as if he wanted to beg Dream to dance. Dream had to explain.

“I can’t dance.” George’s face didn’t change.

“Yeah, why?” He was looking up at him expectantly, which had not been the plan.

“What do you- I’m bad at it. I can’t dance.” Dream gestured to his long legs and stretched arms. George’s face lit up, a lightbulb moment. Dream realised, George had thought he couldn’t dance because of his injured shin. He cursed himself internally for not being more dramatic.

“You don’t have to be good at something to do it, Dream. Dancing at parties is fun. It’s like exercise, but for your brain.” George pointed to his two temples with both hands, grinning. Not the plan.

“It’s very literally exercise for your body.” Dream didn’t realise there was a smile on his face.

“Fine, it’s exercise for your soul. Now, come on. Dance with me.”

Dream managed to down a shot while he was dragged out by George, it felt like fire down his raw throat. Before he could say no, George was pulling him to the speakers. Dream didn’t dance, he had never known how to. His limbs were too jerky, arms too awkward. And bad dancing didn’t fit the Dream image , not cool and nonchalant enough.

But George was looking up at him with a messy grin and the speakers were thumping and the bodies around him were thrumming. He tried to justify it to himself, the lights were low, no one would see him, but Dream couldn’t have said no in a million years. Not to George, not there, not then.

It was easy to tell the song was on its outro as Dream and George stumbled in. Dream laughed easily at his accidental win.

“Oh no! There goes that idea. Come on, let’s find Sapnap and Bad.” He went to tug George out, but George tugged him back. It caught Dream off balance, making him stumble after George to keep from falling.

George rolled his eyes, slinking his way to the boy with the aux cord and dragging Dream with him.

“Hey, Toby, what’s up?” George talked to the boy, who he was apparently friendly with. Dream knew he went to their school, but he didn’t know the boy. If George hadn’t just said his name, he would’ve had no idea. He stood awkwardly behind George, unsure whether or not he should introduce himself. He was too caught up in the unfamiliar awkwardness to listen to what they were saying. Before he knew it, George was smiling Toby a thanks and dragging him back into the crowd.

“What was that about?” Dream had to bend down to whis[er into George’s ear. George didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.

The iconic opening of Carly Rae Jepsen's ‘Call Me Maybe’ started to play. Dream couldn’t stop the barking laugh he let out. George smiled so widely Dream was sure his cheeks would rip open.

Dream wasn’t sure if it was the shots, or the crowds or the boy standing open and soft before him, but he felt the hardened rock around his muscles and tendons melt away. He couldn’t dance, but he could sway next to George while Carly Rae Jepsen sang one of her masterpieces.

George was his only salvation from the heaving, living heat of the crowd. His flushed face and ruined hair were all Dream could see. He tried his casual swaying, but George’s energy called for more.

Dream couldn’t help but sing along.

I threw a wish in a well,

I looked at you as it fell.

George was not a great dancer, really he just flailed and hopped. He yelled to the beat and flung his arms about him. Dream had to apologise on his behalf to a girl he had accidentally whacked. She didn’t acknowledge it.

Dream realised, no one there cared. Everyone just wanted to dance. Dream looked to George, laughing and jumping to the mirage of singing violins. It was all so intense, Dream couldn’t resist it.

His thudding, thumping body didn’t quite match George’s plasmic flow. His muses thrashed with the musical pulses, throat raw from the singing. No matter how loud he was, everyone around him was louder.

It felt like indulgence, sweeping slowly over his skin and through his veins. He had to choose to let himself enjoy it.

His dancing was horrible, but George loved it. Dream felt like it was a newfound candour, this allowance. He was bad, he was having fun. There was no contradiction. He could do both.

Where you think you’re going, baby?

Dream’s thudding stomps didn’t match George’s rough edged-grace, but he was there. And he was dancing. It felt like a win. It felt human, more human than Dream had felt in days. In those three minutes, he wasn’t the Dream. He was just another person.

He felt like one cell in the body of a giant, doing the same as everyone around him, but for the first time he liked it. He was doing the same as George, who was jumping offbeat.

But here’s my number, so call me maybe?

Dream’s panting chest felt like it was holding corporal freedom inside it. He thought his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his cell wall chest and soar away.

Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad.

I missed you so, so bad.

Dream couldn’t believe he had ever thought George was restrained and standoffish.

The George Dream had thought he had known for years, detached and reserved, quiet and reclusive; Dream watched in his mind as he died and was replaced with this new man. This new George had an unrelenting mind and thrashing heart. It fit perfectly with Dream’s aching body and delicate soul. There, sweating next to George as he sang his throat raw, Dream was sure George had to be his missing part. His final puzzle piece. If there was an empty cave in Dream he would stretch and chip away at it until it was the perfect size for George to settle in.

As the song ended, Dream tried to sort out his jumbled thoughts. His brain felt like a smoothie. Before he could take an internal inventory, Sapnap was beside him. It was easy to guide a panting Dream and George away from the dance floor and down a quiet hall, muttering about ‘totally unlike you, both of you’.

Dream couldn’t process the moving. He shut his eyes to keep it out, only opening his eyes for sporadic flashes of the house. He knew they were going down a hall together, but it all blended into one.

Sapnap got more and more excited the closer they got to the end of the hall. When he finally opened the last door, he was practically hopping.

Dream’s muddied brain recognised it as some kind of game’s room, like the basement in Sapnap’s old house. There was an easily ignored pool table, and on the pool table was an open bottle.

George got to the bottle first. He offered it to Dream and Sapnap before drinking from it. He coughed and spluttered as it went down.

“Gin.” His grimace was enough to deter them all.

Sapnap found a VR headset, the kind none of them had at home. They had to arm wrestle for it. Sapnap won, through methods involving plain cheating if you asked Dream. He had kicked Dream’s blooded shin ‘accidentally ’ mid-wrestle and refused a rematch. George hadn’t wanted to get involved.

Sapnap got to play on the VR first.

George was a nice drunk to be around. He wasn’t loud or annoying or excitable. He was just George, but less guarded. He thought out loud about the universe and the human condition and why goldfish were called goldfish when they were orange. Dream sat cross-legged in front of him while he spoke, slow and heavy. His brain felt cloudy, but in a nice way. A buffer between Dream and George, and everything else.

George liked to do things wrong. The more he talked about random things, the clearer it became. He ate pasta at breakfast time. He sat on chairs backwards and sideways and even upside down, laying his back on the seat and letting the blood rush to his head. He used his conditioner before his shampoo.

Dream tried to tell him, tried to enlighten him that he was living wrong.

“Well, I’m doing perfectly fine.”

Dream didn’t know how George managed to slip this gentle tenderness into everything he did. He swapped from sitting cross-legged to lying down, sprawling like a starfish. Dream did the same. He could feel their fingers brushing against each other.

Sapnap was immersed in his own digital world, but Dream was sure they were feeling the same thing, total separation from reality It was as if he and George had escaped time. They just lay there on the dirty carpet together, fingertips barely brushing.

“Ow!” The serenity didn’t last long. Sapnap had walked into a wall.

George laughed aloud. “That's going to hurt in the morning.”

Sapnap held up his middle finger, in the wrong direction. The headset was still on.

“It hurts now, idiot.” Dream grinned between them. He wasn’t used to their friendship.

“Well, at least you did your best!” Dream tried to give his positive input from his position on the floor. Sapnap shuddered.

“God, I hope not.” He went into the game again.

Dream turned his body back to the ceiling, but it wasn’t the same. The bubble was popped and he couldn’t stitch it back together.

Instead, he sat up to face George again so they could talk.

Ten minutes later, Sapnap was still alive and thriving in the game, while Dream and George were falling back into the natural rhythm of their conversations.

“Why did you think I hated you?” George’s voice was a rock skimmed on the pond of quiet. Dream was laying back on the couch, eyes again locked on the ceiling. It made it easier, not having to look at George on the other end of the couch. Their feet were tangled together. George was being gentle with Dream’s recovering shin. Dream didn’t think about it before replying.

“Didn’t you?” He didn’t see the gentle shake of George’s head.

“No. If anything, you hated me.” His voice bounced from the ceiling to Dream’s ears. Dream sat up to face him, ceiling tainted.

“No I didn’t. No, I don’t.” It was Dream’s turn now to shake his head. He wanted to lean forward and tell George a hundred times. He didn’t, he doesn’t.

“Okay, Dream.” George hadn’t sat up, still staring at the white ceiling.

Neither of them said anything for a minute. Dream looked at George, George looked up. Dream couldn’t handle the quiet, the noncommitment in George’s voice. He needed to fix it. He spoke into the silence.

“You just, you stopped talking to me. Like, overnight. So, I just thought you hated me.” Dream couldn’t keep looking at him. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes. He wished he hadn’t had that vodka. It was shoving cotton in his mouth and down his throat. There was morphine in his lips, he couldn’t get his words out.

“Yeah. I was anxious. I wasn’t talking to anyone.” George’s gaze was deadset, not on Dream.

“Well, you ignored me. I thought you hated me.” Dream tried to justify himself to George, to rationalise his behaviour at nine years old. George just hummed.

“So all of that, the years of dirty looks and rolling eyes, it was because I hurt your feelings by being too quiet?” George finally looked at him. Dream couldn’t believe he had ever wanted him to. His eyes were cold stone.

“Don’t say it like that.” Dream wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. His voice sounded small. Sapnap still had the headset on, he couldn’t hear them. He wasn’t coming to save him.

“Well, how would you say it, Dream?” George was still staring at him. Dream wanted to sew his eyes shut.

“I-” He looked away, but found himself looking back in George’s eyes before speaking again. “You weren’t just quiet . You ignored me.” It was all too quiet.

“You were too busy for me Dream. I wanted to be your friend, for years. Don’t try and spin this as if I dropped you. You couldn’t deal with me being quiet, with me going through a hard time. You needed my attention, you wanted it, 24/7. You were selfish.”

Dream couldn’t speak. He felt like someone was sucking the air slowly from his lungs and then the last traces of oxygen from his blood. George stood up and it was the final kick.

Sapnap must have sensed the movement, because just then he took off the headset.

“I think I saw some of my friends in another room. I’m going to go and say hi.”

“Hey, we’re your friends.” Dream had no idea how Sapnap knew to make his voice so soft at that moment. He had always had a sixth sense for those things.

“Yeah.” Dream managed to choke the word out.

“Come on Dream. Sometimes I think if you saw me bleeding out on your kitchen floor, you’d act like you hadn’t seen me.” George smiled tightly to Sapnap and left.

Dream let him go. He hated the tightness in his chest, the bitter taste in his mouth. He made himself feel angry in a way he knew he didn’t deserve to be. For the first time in his life, he knew George was right about what had happened. A lot of it had been his fault.

#mcyt #mcyt fic #dnf #dreamnotfound #dreamsmp #dream/george #dreamxgeorge #psa i actually dont ship them i just like creative writing and heat waves made me obsessed with their characters #dream #georgenotfound

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withyounct · 5 years

Text

What’s wrong kid?

Reader x Single dad!Jaehyun

Genre: Fluff

Words: 2.7k

Prompt: You notice a child crying at a school playground. You decide to see what’s up and meet an extremely stressed/extremely handsome father.

A/n: This is my first long story on this site. It’ll be in parts. Please let me know what you think of it. ^~^

“If I have to look at another PowerPoint slide, I’m going to fucking scream.” You groaned banging your head on the table, hoping if you hit hard enough, you’ll pass out. You were on the fifth bang in when you felt a hand stop you.

“I don’t want to carry your dead body anywhere, so please stop.” Lucas pleaded while he gently pushed you to a sitting position. Looking up at your group of friends you saw a range of expressions, but the most prominent one was ‘done’. So, you take one last look at your laptop screen and decide you weren’t even retaining anything at that point. You shut your laptop and began to pack up, which caused eyes to trail your way.

“Where are you going?” Renjun asked looking up from his textbook for the first time that hour.

“Home. You guys have fun, I’ll happily take this F I'm about to get on my quiz.” You declared. You were graced with a variety of side eyes given the fact you’ve never failed anything regardless if you’ve studied or not. After sending a flurry of kisses, you left the library and started your walk home. The university was a good 20-minute walk from your place, but you enjoyed it. You had a car, but there was something calming about walking through the streets and parks especially after a long day like this. The music you were playing suddenly stopped and you realized that you accidentally pulled out the headphone jack. That’s when you noticed the crying.

Across the street you were on was an elementary school. There was a little girl sitting on one of the school park benches crying her little heart out. You scan the area and couldn’t spot any teachers. Biting your lip, you across the street and up to the girl.

“Hey. Are you okay?” You asked softly as you slowly sat by her. She looked up and pouted. Your heart swelled; she was a real cute kid. She took some time wiping her tears and nodded.

“My dad is late again.” She whispered looking down at the little pink watch on her wrist. You look back at the school and figured the teachers assumed she was already picked up since it was so late in the day.

“My name is Y/n. What’s yours?”

“Hyunjin.” She extended a handshake. You chuckle at how cute the gesture was.

“What a pretty name.” You smile. “Okay Hyunjin if you want, I can wait with you until your dad gets here.” You offered shaking her hand. Hyunjin smiled and nodded her head vigorously. She began to tell you all about school, her friends, her dad, and her really funny uncles. You found yourself laughing at her stories and how animated she was when she told them. You asked her about her dad, and she told you that he works in a really big building and he draws other buildings. You figured he was an architect of some sort. You noticed that she never brought up her mom, so you decide not too either. About an hour and a half, you noticed her start to fall asleep and at this point she was completely leaning on you. The sun started to set and no sign of her father. You pondered on if you should ask her where she lives, but you also thought that would be a bit weird since you’re a stranger.

You were about to wake her up when a car pulled up and out popped out a man who looked not much older than you. He quickly made his way over and your first two thoughts were Man he's handsome and Holy fuck he looks stressed.

“Hyunjin.” He called out when he got close enough. The said child, who was now laying her head on your lap, woke up and dashed into her father’s arms. He scooped her up and apologized for being so late. She told him at it was okay because she met a new friend and she stayed with her. You got up, dusting off your jeans and smiled at the duo. The man placed Hyunjin down and the two walked over to you.

“I’m so sorry for all this. Works been so hectic, and I’ve been trying to make it to pick Hyunjin on time and then I got stuck in traffic. I haven’t even introduced myself yet. What am I doing? I'm Jung Jaehyun, Hyunjin’s father. Thank you so much for staying with my daughter.” He spilled in one breath while extending a hand. You laughed at his frantic manner and shook his hand.

“Y/n. It’s fine, really. She’s the cutest thing on this planet, and we had a lot of fun talking.” You confessed and Hyunjin was all smiles. “I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but if you want, I wouldn’t mind watching her until you get off work. My classes are finished before Hyunjin gets out of school.”

Hyunjin’s excited shriek could have been heard on the next street over. She grabbed her father’s hand and nodded vigorously. Jaehyun on the other hand pondered on the idea.

“I'm not sure. I’ll have to think about it” He said with uncertainty. Hyunjin’s face immediately fell.

“I totally understand. I’m a stranger after all.” You reassured.

You both exchange numbers and Hyunjin gave you a goodbye hug, which melted your heart. Jaehyun thanked you once more and the father-daughter pair drove off. You smile at how weird all that was and continued your walk home. When you entered your apartment, you were immediately berated by your roommates.

“So, where have you been?” Ten asked from his place on the sofa.

“Out.” You replied simply.

“I made dinner for everyone tonight. Your share is in the microwave.” Kun added. You looked up at the heavens and thanked every deity out there for giving you amazing roommates.

“I love you both. I'm gonna eat and pass out. Goodnight.”

“Love you too.” Ten chimed.

“Sleep well.” Kun smiled.

The next day was normal. You went to class and passed your quiz, much to Yangyang’s dismay.

“Dude. I studied all night and failed, and you barely studied for an hour and passed. Give me your brain.” He whined as the both of you walked to the café that your friend group hung out at for lunch.

“How about I give you my notes instead?” You offered leading Yangyang into the café. Your other friends Lucas, Haechan, Jeno, Renjun, and Jaemin were already seated talking over various foods and drinks.

“Where’s Mark?” You asked, sliding into the seat next to Haechan.

“Probably dead under a piled of music theory textbooks somewhere.” He replied amused.

“Damn rip.”

Normal college talks ensued about hating everything and how inconveniencing Mark was for probably dying before they could as well. A small food fight was about to break out when Jaemin mentioned a party that was going to happen the following week.

“Y/n I'm requesting your presence at the party.”

“Request denied.” You answered stealing one of Jeno’s fries. A chorus of complaints emerged from the group, but you didn’t care. Just when you were about to steal another fry, you felt your phone vibrate. You looked down and Jaehyun’s name was displayed. You got up and was greeted with screams of ‘You can’t run away’.

“Shut up, I’ll be right back.” You yelled walking out of ear shot.

“Hello?”

“Y/n. I'm really sorry to ask this last minute, but can you please pick up Hyunjin for me? I'm stuck in a meeting and I completely forgot I have another scheduled after this one.” He pleaded and you could hear the desperation in his voice.

“Yeah. Of course.” You heard him let out a sigh of relief.

“God you're a saint. I’ll text you the address and notify the school.” He explained. He thanked you again and hung up. You walked back over to your friends and packed up your stuff.

“Alright bitches I gotta go.” You threw down your part of the bill and hightailed it out before anyone could ask you anything.

You walked back over to the university science building where your car was parked and drove over to Hyunjin’s school. You arrived a bit early, so you were scrolling through the messages in your group chat. You were laughing at the number of confused memes your friends where sending you when you heard the school bell rang. Kids were running out of the double door and you spotted Hyunjin. You exited the car and walked onto the playground. She was busy talking to another girl, so you just watched her for a bit. You noticed she looked a lot like her father and wondered what her mother looked like.

“You must be Y/n?” An older lady asked, taking you out of your daze. You nodded and she told you that she was informed that you were here to pick Hyunjin up. You both talk about her for a second and agree that she is indeed the cutest five-year-old ever. Hyunjin saw her teacher talking to you and screamed your name. She quickly said bye to her friends and ran to hug you.

“We get to hang out today!” You half-yelled trying to match her excited disposition. You both said bye to her teacher and hopped in your car. On the drive she told you all about her day and how she’s sad because her dad will come home late, but she's happy to see you again.

You pulled up at the given address and gawked at how nice the house was. It had a modern and contemporary feel to it and that was just from the outside. While you were dumbly staring, Hyunjin got out the car and opened your door for you. She bounced enthusiastically saying how excited she was to show you around. You hurriedly grabbed your bag and was dragged into the house.

The inside was even more impressive. The kitchen was the size of your living room and was filled with the latest appliances. The living room was huge and there was even a beautiful garden that Hyunjin said she and her dad had worked on from time to time. As Hyunjin pulled you around you found yourself wondering why she didn’t have a babysitter. Jaehyun was obviously well-off.

Hyunjin asked if you could help her with her homework, so she can get it out the way and you guys could play. You commented on how mature that was and that you would be honored to help.

After an hour of homework, you both were free to play. Hyunjin told you about how one of her friends taught her how to braid. You offered up your hair and she gleefully braided it all the while telling you more about her amazing uncles.

“From what you're tell me Johnny is hilarious.” You laughed. She agrees and asks you not to tell anyone because she loves all her uncles, but Taeyong is her favorite because he’s sweet and acts like a kid sometimes.

You guys play for a while and decide to make dinner together.

“Okay Chef Hyunjin what are we having tonight?” You asked carrying her to the kitchen.

“Umm… chicken pasta!” She yelled after giving it some thought. You compliment her choice and began to prepare dinner. You had to admit she was the cutest help you could have ever asked for. She knew where exactly everything was and was great at setting the table. After dinner you helped her bathe and dried her hair when she was done. It was getting late, so you decided it was bedtime. She took it like a trooper and passed out after you read some of her favorite stories.

You wandered back into the living room after making sure she was asleep. Pulling out your laptop, you worked on a few assignments. You sent a message to both Ten and Kun telling them that you would be coming home later than usual and to not send a search party. Their replies hadn’t come yet when you heard the front door open and close.

Jaehyun walked into the living room looking like the handsome version of the walking dead.

“Y/n. How are you? How was Hyunjin?” He asked undoing his tie and tossing his keys in a bowl.

“Great. Hyunjin was an angel.” You informed with only smiles. You both reconvened in the kitchen and you recounted the day you’ve spent with his daughter.

“Then she made this braid, which is pretty impressive for her age. Dinner was fun. I didn’t know if you’ve eaten or not, but I made a plate for you as well.” You said. His face lit up and it reminded you of how Hyunjin’s face did the same when she’s happy.

“I haven’t. Thank you, you goddess.” He rushed over to the conventional oven where his plate was and smiled. “Chicken pasta?”

“Yeah Hyunjin said it’s one of your favorites.” You both decide to get to know each other. He learned that you were a sophomore in college majoring in Biology.

“That just sounds terrifying. Science was never my strong suit.” He shuddered as he placed a cup of coffee in front of you. You learned that he was indeed an architect and was a really successful one at that. He owned his own company and the ‘uncles’ Hyunjin referred to were his friends and partners. You also learned that he was only 26.

“I aspire to be that successful at 26.” You stated jokingly. “So that means you had Hyunjin when you were only 21. That must have been stressful on you and her mom.”

As soon as the words left your mouth you cringed. Hyunjin, who was a child, never talked about her mother and it was in your opinion a little tactless to bring her up with Jaehyun. You were about to apologize for being rude and nosy when Jaehyun spoke.

“It was.” He smiled at you, calming your panic heart. “But Hyunjin was the light of our lives. Her mom decided to put college on hold and stay at home while I finished. She died three years ago, car accident. Hyunjin was in the car and survived.” He finished sadly.

“Oh god. Jaehyun I'm so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I have Hyunjin.” He smiled and you noticed his dimples. A smile made its way on your face as well. “You know you’re the first person that Hyunjin has taking a liking to other than her uncles. All the babysitter I’ve hired she hated them.”

“You mean to tell me that angel has the capacity to hate!?” You yelled a bit louder than you meant to. Jaehyun busted out a laugh and you shushed each other, not wanting to wake Hyunjin up.

“Yes. It seems so.” Jaehyun said coming down from his laughing high. You looked down at your watch and decided it was time to leave.

“I should get going and you need to get to bed. No offense, but you look like you’re about to die from sleep deprivation.” You walked over and placed your mug in the sink. You turned back around and saw him go into his pocket.

“Here let m-”

“No. Your daughter is the cutest thing on this planet and I gladly did this for free.” You stated.

“I recall you saying that yesterday.” He laughed. “But please I would feel a lot better if I pay you.” You both went back in forth for a few minutes and then he pouted. This grown man pouted and you gave in.

“Fine. You win.” You murmured childishly. You heard him call you cute as you passed him, money in hand.

“Would you be interested in sitting Hyunjin? I'm working a huge project right now and I would be less stressed and worried if someone like you were watching her.” He confessed to your back as you packed up your things. You smiled and turned around.

“Jaehyun, your daughter is the cutes-”

“the cutest thing on this planet, is that a yes?” He bit his lip worriedly.

“I would love to.” You watched him raise a fist in victory and laughed. He walked you to your car and stood there waving until you were out of sight.

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 4 years

Text

2. REBIRTH

Rule 1: The human whose name is written in this journal shall die.

This was someone's handwriting. Probably some bizarre joke or elaborate social experiment. "What the fuck is this," Erik mumbled in disgust staring at the words. Someone's sick sense of humor? He reclined in his leather chair waiting for someone to tell him he was being recorded. Looking at the office phone on his desk, he anticipated the ring. At any moment, Gloria would call up and he'd return the prop to whatever production, laughing it off while refusing to sign the release. He checked his watch. Any minute now. His fingers drummed on the desk in wait.

In the meantime, the first few pages of the journal had been ripped out. Whoever dropped this book had obviously taken out what they didn't want to be seen and they'd left instructions on the inside of the front cover along with some foreign symbols, symbols Erik had never seen before.

Rule 2: This entry will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.

"An elaborate prank," he mused. "Someone has way too much time on their hands." Flipping through the blank pages, he closed the journal and tucked it into his black Burberry London suitcase. Out of sight, out of mind. Reawakening his computer, he decided to split his new tasks into smaller responsibilities and divvy them out to his staff including the task of updating the user control panel for the network. He could be home in time to surprise Mika for dinner afterall.

🎶 I spent my whole life tryna make it, tryna chase it/ The cycle of a black man divided, tryna break it/ You take a loss, shit don't cry about it, just embrace it/ Minor setback for major comeback, that's my favorite/ My nigga L said, "You do a song with Nip, K. Dot he a better Crip"/ I said, "He a man first, you hear the words out his lips?/ About flourishing from the streets to black businesses?"🎶

Turning off the engine, Erik let down the garage door and exited the vehicle walking through the front door of his Rockridge craftsman home. "BABY," he called stripping off his black wool blazer to drape over his arm. Immediately he heard footsteps rushing in his direction before his woman appeared, colliding into his chest.

"Oh Captain, my Captain," Mika swooned. Her glasses were fogged and her auburn dreads were in a messy bun on top of her head. Her eyes were dewy and mildly pink. He shook his head, putting it together.

"Again?"

"It was either this or go to the protest and you forbid me to go. Besides, it's like therapy for me," she sighed. "Dead Poets Society and Good Will Hunting.. Don't look at me like that. I needed to be elevated! Too much bad news," she frowned. He knew exactly what she was feeling. He felt it too. He followed her into the kitchen where his plate sat covered in aluminum foil. It was still warm since he wasn't late like she'd expected. Kissing Mika on the forehead, he draped his blazer on the back of his chair and set the table, opening the bottle of Pink Moscato he'd purchased on the way home to pour two glasses.

"Tell me about this case."

"Well I told you about the police brutality. You've probably seen the hashtags by now. Erik? I wanted to cry. I took this job to stop shit like this and now it's happening right under my watch in my city. I knew that cop, Erik. And now when I look at him I wonder what that badge means to him--What mine means. Without it, would he shoot me like he shot that boy?"

Erik chewed silently, letting her question hang in the air. They both knew the answer, he didn't have to speak it and make things worse.

"I had a horrible case aside from that.. I've been trying not to think about it, but--" she sighed rubbing the deepening crease between her brows. "I saved a little boy today.. he was eight years old and now he has to go into the foster care system because his dad killed his mom and his sister. I-- I was too late to save them."

"You saved one and to that one, it makes all the difference."

"Now that we have the father in custody, he and his lawyer are claiming that the murders were due to a mental illness and he's got the prior diagnosis to support it. If he gets off in court because of this, I will scream. Erik, I will shoot him myself. He took a baseball bat to a child's head, Erik. A twelve-year-old girl."

Laying down his fork and knife, Erik stood walking around the table to squeeze and rub Mika's shoulders, smoothing out the balls of tension. Her head rolled and she exhaled, her body relaxing. His lips pressed gently into her jaw and he dropped to one knee, pulling her fork from her hand and grabbing both of her hands in his.

"Mika? You are great at what you do and no one could've done it any better. You saved a boy's life today and you didn't kill the other two, he did. That's on him, not you." He kissed her knuckles as her soft eyes gazed upon his. The rest of dinner went by with lighter conversation. He let her go on as long as she needed to talking about Robin Williams and his therapeutic presence in cinema and after doing the dishes, it was time to retreat into his office as was his usual routine.

He booted up his computer and logged into his emails. There were four new ones of importance relating to business. His work was never done it seemed. Reaching into his black suitcase, he pulled out a gold-colored flash drive, but paused when his fingers touched the spine of the leather journal. Who wrote this shit?

Rule 3: If the cause of death is written within the next 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.

Rule 4: If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.

Rule 5: After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.

He had to take it in. The cursive semed to be written in something similar to ink but not quite. "These dumbass rules." Imagine someone sane coming up with something as ridiculous as this.

The black pen on Erik's desk shined, daring him to pick it up as his eyes flickered between it and the blank page. Nah, Erik, chill. You buggin out right now.

Erik grabbed his computer mouse, clicking to wake the computer. Clicking onto his favorite internet browser, he typed in the name of the boy who'd been shot by the cop earlier in the day. Jayson Miller. Noting various tweets, posts, and videos, he paid especially close attention to the protest that was happening in the neighborhood. Police were lined up and it was a matter of time before the National Guard got involved. He searched to find the name of the cop who'd shot Jayson but his name was protected. He decided he'd watch through the videos instead. That didn't turn up much.

An idea struck him. He knew he probably shouldn't, but the fact that he could do it and get away with it made him do it anyway. From his computer, he dusted off his old skills from high school and early college, cracking into Mika's work assigned computer from his own. He was able to easily hack the police database and find the cop on duty when Jayson got shot. Picking up the pen, he jotted down the name.

Phil Mathers.

He'd seen the guy a few times himself. Phil seemed the type to do something questionable for a few bucks and a vacation. Reading the report written by Phil himself, it read like the typical "he had a weapon" rhetoric of fear. It was as good as an admission of guilt.

"Fourty seconds to die? We'll see."

He waited for the report to come of Phil's death. Anything. Then he realized, he probably wouldn't hear about it so soon. He decided to cruise the internet in search of another current crime before stopping short realizing the most obvious option. Holding his pen, he wrote the second name.

Ronald Clump

Counting down silently, he leaned back in his chair to watch his screen. He'd refreshed the page and clicked around about six times.

"Well, guess that settles it.. This some old bullsh-"

The President of the United States suffers a heart attack. 9:22 PM.

The pen dropped from Erik's hand rolling into the floor as he gaped at the screen. A quick search showed two more sources confirming that the president had indeed passed.

"What the fuck? Nah. No. This isnt real. That was a coincidence, his old ass was in his last days. No." Jumping up, he paced the floor in disbelief. "He was gonna die anyway, it wasn't me." Stroking through his beard anxiously, he looked over to the journal sitting open on his desk. It was impossible. It didn't make any sense. He had to try it again--just to see. Because no way did this old journal have anything to do with what just happened. That would make him a murderer.

One more time.

Shutting down the computer, he moved to the bathroom he shared with his girl, showering, brushing his teeth, and running the electric massager through his scalp. When he got to bed, Mika was sitting up watching a stream of the protest. He gently took the phone from her hand exiting the stream and placing the device on a charger. He could feel her annoyance. If she couldn't be at the protest, she wanted to at least see it to feel that she was there. "Give your mind a rest, Mika. You've consumed enough death and destruction for a day." That seemed to give her pause as her face turned thoughtful, a small sigh releasing.

"You're right," she conceded laying on her side. He climbed into the bed beside her, looking her in the eyes. "Erik, I'm tired."

"I know. So am I."

A kiss on her forehead led her eyes to shut and soon he felt that she'd drifted off to sleep. After fifteen more minutes, it was clear that she had. Lifting from the bed silently, he walked into the closet pulling a pair of North Face joggers and a matching hoodie. Over the hoodie, he wore a black North Face vest and and black leather Saint Laurent Lenny sneakers. The journal, he tucked into the vest with a pen clipped inside.

While Mika slept, it was time to put the journal to the test. He swept downstairs and through the front door pulling off in his matte black Audi R8. Destination: Fruitvale.

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