#working with other gems and he kept messing up and hiding away whenever he did mess up so :((( yeah he usually fights by himself OH I SHOUL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

childishfluff · 3 years

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i loved the fic!!!! could i request a little dream on a call with tommy and george? dream just kinda slips to about 3/4 and fluffffff- anon 👾(if it’s not taken

Sorry! I didn’t see this until last night so idk how long this request has been sitting here. I wrote it tho! Here’s the ao3 link if you wanna read there instead.

Minecraft Flowers- DSMP Oneshot, Little!Dream/CG’s!Tommy and George

Summary:

It was a normal day of playing on the SMP when Dream felt himself slipping. Of course, the moment his friends started to point it out, he denied his regression immediately. But it seemed that George and Tommy could fix that problem with an offering of a few Minecraft Flowers. -- This is non-sexual, sfw age regression, dni if you're nsfw/abdl/ageplay/cgl/ect. If any of the creators included in this work say *anything* about being uncomfy with fan fiction/of agere content including them, I will take this down and/or modify it appropriately. If they have already said something that I'm unaware of, please let me know.

A/N: I hope this lived up to what you wanted. He slips even younger at the end but I tried to stick to the requested age range! also content warning for Tommy cursing like, twice, in the beginning.

"WHAT IS UP, YOU FUCKING-"

"Shut up, Tommy."

Laughter burst throughout the Discord call following Tommy joining the call and just a few words. "Hi, Tommy," Dream greeted.

"Hello, Dream," Tommy replied. "And I don't need to shut up, thank you very much, George."

"Stop being mean, then," George said. "You're 16, no curse words."

"None of us are streaming, cut the child bit," Tommy requested, a slight pleading tone to his voice. Just for good measure, he added, "You bitch."

George and Dream had been on call for a few minutes, messing around on the server when Tommy joined in, entering the server as well. None of them were working together, doing whatever they were doing far away from each other, and simply talking while they did so.

"No more curse words," Dream mumbled, trying to focus on mining. This couldn't happen. Not now, not with George. And especially not with Tommy. It wasn't like both of them didn't already know, but he was still embarrassed to slip openly. It was scary, and hard!

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, green boy." Tommy's reply came through, the boy speaking casually. Though the other two couldn't see it, Clay pouted. He immediately realized how childish his reaction was, dropping the face and trying to focus back in on what he was doing.

It seemed so tempting to just switch to creative mode and build a cute little house. They three talked on and off, mostly just enjoying each others company in a much more chill way, off stream, without the elements of acting for the roleplay world they had created.

"So, what are you working on, Dream?" George eventually asked.

"Minin'," he mumbled quietly, not realizing how little his voice sounded until he spoke. He also didn't realize that he thumb was halfway in his mouth until he spoke either. He immediately sat up, speaking more clearly. "I'm, uh, mining."

"Aww," Tommy spoke somewhat teasingly. "Baby Dweam has come to visit, hmm?"

Tommy's ongoing joke about Dream's age regression was something that embarrassed Dream, but didn't actually upset him. He never made it on stream, and Tommy would always soften up if he actually was regressing. Sometimes, Dream was just tired, and childish traits shined through without reason.

"Is that true? Are you feeling small, Clay?" George's curious, but also soft, voice came through next. Dream felt a lot safer when the two boys spoke softly to him, but he still denied that he was slipping.

"No, I'm not small!" he defended in a high-pitched voice. "I'm big, very big."

"But Dweam," Tommy spoke in his teasing baby voice again. "What if I wanted to talk to Little Clay? I haven't seen him since before Christmas!"

You see, Tommy was a little too. He was an age dreamer rather than a regressor, at least most of the time. Tubbo was a little as well, and Fundy, and also Bad-

Actually, quite a bit of the people in the server were involved in that community. Some got into it after learning about it from someone else in the server, but with Tommy and Dream, it was a coincidence revealed after a stressful day when Dream slipped and Tommy did too, to help him feel more comfortable acting childish.

"Little Clay is hidin'," Dream claimed, blushing furiously.

"You should tell him to stop hiding, then," George replied. "He's so very adorable and I'd very much like to go pick flowers with him."

Dream was blushing even more, absolutely flustered by all the teasing and compliments. He whined, "Meanies."

"I'm mean? For calling you cute," George gasped playfully.

"I said that I wanted to talk to little you! That isn't mean, right?" Tommy questioned, looking at his facecam. George shook his head.

"We're not mean, you're just pouty because we're teasing you." George said. Even more blushing ensued.

"I bet he's blushing, George," Tommy said, as if he could somehow see Dream.

"I bet so too," he agreed.

"Not blushin'!" Dream squeaked, speaking much more like a toddler then before.

"I think you know that lying is against the rules, sweetie," George told him, speaking like a parent warning a child not to do something. This made Dream feel even smaller then before.

"Not lyin', not blushin', not small," he spoke in the most childish voice either of the others had heard come from him.

"Well," George spotted Dream's avatar on the prime path, sprinting towards him. "I picked some pretty flowers, but specifically for Little Clay." He equipped a flower he had found, moving his avatar to stand in front of Dream's. Dream had climbed out of his mine at some point, and he had just been wondering around during the time he wasn't blushing.

"Flower?" Dream's little innocent voice spoke up, moving his avatar to look at George's. "Purple flower!" he giggled, making George smile. "I wan' it, please." he pouted again.

"You asked really nicely, baby, good job." George told him, dropping the flower to him.

"T'ank you!" Clay felt happiness bubble in his chest at the praise. He had forgotten all about denying that he was in littlespace at this point.

"Do you know what good boys get?" Tommy spoke up, joining them on the prime path.

"Hmm?" Dream turned his avatar towards his, curious now. Tommy equipped red flowers so that Clay could see them.

"More flowers!" Tommy cheered, dropping a bunch of flowers to him.

"Whoa, whoa," Dream said, picking them up. "Lotsa flowers? Just for me?"

"Yep!" George and Tommy replied together. It was very entertaining to see one of the littles get excited over such a simple thing. For Dream, winning video games or getting the cuter things in games made him happy!

Like Minecraft flowers.

"We gotta put dem' all over! Leave a flower at everyone's house!" he said, immediately. George and Tommy 'awed' at him.

"That sounds like a great idea, little one," George agreed with a smile.

"How about George goes and gets more for us, and I'll take you around to leave flowers everywhere?" Tommy suggested. Dream almost pouted, until the part of his brain that was still somewhat logical reminded him that George would still be on call with them. He was leaving in game, they would still be able to talk.

"Mkay," Dream agreed. And just like that, they split off, Dream and Tommy continuing down the prime path and stopping at all the different buildings, while George left to find more flowers.

As the day went on, George kept joking about how finding flowers was 'such an important mission' and that he couldn't fail it. Every once in a while, he'd come back to the main part of the SMP and drop Tommy and Dream flowers.

They left them at every building, and just put them 'all over', as Dream requested. Tommy and George were sure that everyone would love the sweet little gift from Clay whenever they logged onto the server next.

Tommy had, at some point, called Dream the 'flower prince', which made him all blushy and shy. So of course, he kept at it. "Flowers are pretty," Dream pouted. "I like flowers."

"I knowwww," Tommy replied, "That's why you're the Flower Prince!"

"No, no, not a prince," Dream denied.

"You're definitely a prince. A cute, little, baby prince, that everyone loves!" George added.

"Baby prince?" Dream questioned, his voice somehow smaller then before.

"Mhm. You're the Littlest Flower Prince, Clay." George said.

"Wittlest? Not dat wittle," Clay said, his 'baby voice' shining through much more. He had managed to slip even younger somehow. All because of a cute little nickname.

"You're a little flower prince," Tommy spoke in a sing-songy voice, George joining in almost immediately.

"You're the littlest flower princeeee," they said next, holding out the last word. They stopped when they heard Clay's whining.

"It's okay if you slip younger, baby," George assured. "Do you have your pacifier with you?" he asked.

Dream looked around, before nodding uselessly. When he realized that his friends couldn't see him, he verbally replied. "Yeah," he said, reaching over and grabbing it. He looked over the green plastic, running his fingers over the gems that decorated it.

"Don't suck your thumb or anything, if you need to have something in your mouth, use your pacifier," George told him. Immediately, Dream slipped the nipple of the pacifier into his mouth, reaching over and switching over his camera. He covered the top half of his face, so the other two could only see his little pacifier, before shutting it off immediately after.

Both of them were happy that he was comfortable showing them anything at all. "The pacifier is cute, Clay." Tommy said. George agreed quickly.

"Yeah, you're absolutely adorable! Adorable little flower prince," George pushed the silly nickname again, but Dream secretly liked it. It made him happy.

The three continued playing minecraft until Dream started sounding sleepy, and George ordered that he took a nap. Dream didn't fight much, getting off the call after a promise from his friends to tell everyone that it was his idea to give everyone flowers.

And of course, everyone would thank him when he logged back on, little or not. And Tommy and George would start calling him 'flower prince' regularly, as a bit on stream, and a little nickname off.

All because Little Dream liked minecraft flowers. Could you blame him? Flowers are pretty, and Minecraft is one of his favorite things in the worlds.

And it was all even better when the Minecraft flowers were from someone who cared about you.

#dsmp #dream smp #dream smp agere #dream smp age regression #little!dream #cg!george #cg!georgenotfound #cg!tommyinnit #dream smp fanfiction

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ecoamerica · 23 days

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pillowfluffs · 4 years

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A Bit of Jealousy | Im Changkyun

Pairing: Changkyun X Reader (female)

Genre: fluff, angst

Request: “hi! I saw that your requests are open, may I request an angsty yet fluffy thing with changkyun? like... you both are engaged but you wanted to make an special surprise for their anniversary, but he thinks she's cheating? 👀👀👀 if it's a little complicated, you don't have to do it. thanks in advance!” -anon

Author’s Note: dw anonnie, I didn’t ignore your request 😤I got into writing it so it took be a bit, and it took be even longer since dialogue messes with me a bit, but hopefully this wasn’t too long of a wait for you 🥺 Thank you for requesting!! I hope you all enjoy!

He surrounded himself with the low basses of the new song he was stuck on, immersing himself with the music he had made so far yet there were no lyrics to go with it. He leaned back in his chair for the nth time with a sigh, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands. How did this happen? The world around him, the world he knew, thought he knew, felt who distorted. He felt empty and he could tell it was already getting to him. Within his own creating process, he usually did these two parts hand in hand: playing with synthesizers, producing various beats, different rhythms and the lyrics would flood his mind like a plague. It felt like the gears in his mind would turn faster and faster, soaring higher into the sky on his little cloud Lyrics would flow through his head like a river after a storm. But nothing came. The world felt like it was crumbling beneath his feet as he sat in his chair, the lights in his studio dimmed down with only his monitors and equipment being his only source of distraction.

He felt drained when he did only a small fraction of what he usually did and he knew why. You. He rubbed the shiny ring around his ring finger out of habit whenever he was deep in thought or just missing you. He loved you, yes. You were his bride to be, yes. Though, the thought of you after what he saw today made a fire burn inside of him. He hated how deep the pit inside of him was. No matter how many times he thought it over, the pit grew a little bit deeper with no resolution. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, resting his forehead in his folded hands as he went through the day in his mind, once again.

The bedroom was filled with a haze that felt like pure home. The aura in the room would make the two of you feel truly at home and nothing could replace it. The room was still with slumber, the bed sheets wrinkled from how much the two of you turned in bed. It was a bit messy but it was cozy and it was home. The room was spacious for the two of you with simple white walls, gray curtains, and a fuzzy carpet.

Feeling your mind come alive, one thought appeared after the other like flowers blooming after seeing the sun after a spell of time, you woke to the soft touch of Changkyun’s arms wrapped loosely around your waist, his low breaths tickling your ear. His body was warm feeling his chest pressed against your back. Your lips naturally curled upward as you turned in his arms, resting half of your body on his, your chin meeting his arm with your leg rubbed against his. He looked so comfortable whenever he slept which made you want to go back to sleep most of the time. You cupped his face in your hand, your eyes unable to leave his features- the face, the person, the soul you fell in love with a few years ago. Your ring glistened in the faint sunlight that shone through the curtains, the precious gem sparkling into your eyes, the thing you that told you you were really his and a similar thing on his finger, signifying he was really yours. His skin was smooth under your thumb as you lightly grazed his cheek, making a curve line by rubbing your thumb side to side. Your brought your face closer to his, taking his face with your other hand, unable to get enough of the love of your life.

He suddenly brought your hands up, bringing them around yours. He caught your hands in his, the one he grew to love the more he held them, the longer he held them. They fit so well in his hands like puzzle pieces.

“Good morning, to you too,” his voice was deep and rich, making your heart flutter in his chest as he brought your hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to them. “You’re up early,” he spoke, tucking a strand of hair behind you ear. He wrapped his leg around yours beneath the cover. The two of you were tangled with each other on the bed, almost always, taking in the feeling of having you in his arms and his skin on yours. It was a feeling he basked in, never getting tired of being around you or your touch on his skin, in his body.

“I did go to sleep earlier than you,” you said, which was true. By the time Changkyun returned from the studio, you were fast asleep. It wasn’t his fault he had to stay so late, though. A comeback for the group was approaching, a couple weeks away and as they gained popularity, they had to top the last comeback. They had their own flavor when it came to their music, the sound of their songs, the way they moved to the music, how they looked, everything- they had their own flavor when it came to what they did and they made sure everyone never forgot the taste they created. But making this taste took time, sacrifice, things like experiences that you sometimes may never get back, but meeting you, Changkyun didn’t care about how many experiences he missed out on if it meant a different one with you by his side for the rest of his life.

“How about you, then? You were at the studio all day. I didn’t even get to see you,” you pouted just a little, teasing him. After being together for awhile now, you adapted to his lifestyle since it was distinctly different. He called and texted whenever he could but he buried himself away in his cave of a studio with Jooheon and other producers when it was time to create.

“Well, I felt my beautiful fiancé awake so I just had to wake up to see her beautiful face,” his voice quiet as he leaned his head your closer, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. “But I’m all yours today. We can do whatever you want.”

The two of you eventually slid out of bed, stepping into the bathroom. The two of you were best friends, lovers, and now each other’s fiancé. You two were glued hip and hip in the bathroom as the two of you brushed your teeth, jamming to the music that played on his phone. He occasionally leaned over and bumped his hip to yours to the beat of the music, his eyes unable to leave your reflection in the mirror. He’d already seen all of you that he could but the feelings, the butterflies that fluttered in his chest always felt new.

Throughout the house, the walls were decorated with pictures of you and him, some taken with friends and the walls always having enough space for future memories to be made and experienced. It wasn’t the biggest house, wasn’t the smallest either, but it was home where he could be who he was with you beside him. He prepared breakfast downstairs as you got dressed and he stayed in his pajamas, which was really just his bare upper body while he wore sweats but you didn’t mind at all- it just meant you had two meals to savor. The kitchen was filled with a sweet aroma as he made waffle after waffle, pouring syrup over his own stack and added the toppings you liked for your own stack. His raspy voice sang along to the songs that played on his phone, in his own little world. He didn’t even hear your steps over the cool tiled floor, only noticing you when you snaked your hands around him from behind, resting your head on his back between his shoulder blades.

You sung along to the other part of the song that happened to be playing, this time it was your turn to rock side by side with him. He smiled widely, feeling himself melt when your voice matched so well with the music. He could listen to you sing endlessly but whenever he tried to get you to sing with him, you shied away. It was such a prize for him whenever you sang. He soaked up the way your voice reverberated off the walls, your voice matching the original singer’s voice with little effort. He couldn’t contain the smile that spread on his face, his dimples caved in on his cheeks, the way you peppered kisses on his shoulder blade, the way your featherlike touch tickled his shoulder as you traced over his tattoos. God he was so sexy in your eyes and for him, he couldn’t get enough of you.

He took your hands in his once again and turned in your grasp, meeting your face. You wore a simple, casual shirt with sweatpants, your hair messily tied up but he never cared. What you wore or how you looked never hindered his feelings for you. You didn’t have to doll up your face, caking makeup over it to hide your natural skin tone, “blemishes” according to society which were deemed to be imperfect but you looked so human to him. You looked so natural and raw compared to others today. You were you. Your voices filled the kitchen as he began to sing with you, singing horribly off key to make you laugh, which worked. As the waffle cooked, he twirled you around, spinning you around all over the kitchen but also kept a close eye on it so it wouldn’t burn. The only lights in the kitchen was a single ray of sunshine that peeked in, shining onto the ground and the light over stove but it was enough. He could adore you in any lighting and never get bored as you felt the same for him. It felt like it was humanly impossible to love someone this much but here he was loving you. You made him feel vulnerable but he could feel so vividly how you felt about him, it drove him a bit crazy for him to think how infatuated he was with you.

He pulled out the chair for you, pushing it in as you sat down. With the stove fan off, the house was suddenly still and peaceful, occasionally hearing birds singing outside. It was such a perfect day for the two of you and he wanted time to slow down already before it even began. He brought over the stacks of waffles and a plate of extras he had prepared along with a tray of toppings to the side of the neatly yet also aesthetically pleasing table he had organized for the two of you to share breakfast. To be extra fancy for the hell of it, Changkyun poured two glasses of orange juice in tall wine glasses.

“Happy anniversary.” He raised his glass before the two of you could begin eating.

“Happy anniversary, Kyunnie.” You brought your glass to his with a clink. You stood up and brought your lips to his for a sweet kiss before he could take a sip, feeling the smile spread on his lips as he thought about what he must’ve done in his past life to have you in his life. Today marked the day the two of you got together as a couple four years ago.

Pacing around his studio, Changkyun was restless. He couldn’t keep himself still when his mind accelerated. The place he felt like he could escape to only comforted him a little. How did the day that was meant to be spent celebrating the day the two of you got together end up like this? He could only imagine what his phone must’ve been going through but he tossed that thought to the side, the urge to check his phone away. He discarded the device to his couch when he came to the studio, locking himself in. Did he really mean anything to you? He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe what you did today, what he saw today. He tried to drown himself in the music, failing to do so as he resurfaced again and again, his mind resurfacing to you.

“I can go with you,” he said, standing from his spot at his desk, his personal little studio at home and leaned in the doorway to his little office.

“No, really Kyun. I think it’ll be faster if I just go alone,” you insisted, a bit rushed as you slipped into your shoes. “Ah, I really have to go. I’ll see you later today,” you said as you checked your phone, barely sparing him a glance as you spoke. You rushed the kiss you left on his cheek, your eyes still glued to your phone. He could see how your lips twitched as you tried to hide a smile, only letting it show when you were halfway out the door, rushing away. What was going on?

Changkyun usually went with the flow of things but with you, with the way you were acting just now, he couldn’t help but let suspicion percolate in his body. It was unnatural of you. And it really said something since he trusted you with his life. He anticipated today to spend time together, enjoying each other on your guys’ special day. No big gifts or surprises or anything but you left him alone without telling him anything, leaving him in the dark.

Out of instinct and curiosity spiked with suspicion, he quickly got dressed into something casual, jeans, a t-shirt, and a hooded jacket, and headed out. He made his way toward the street shopping center that was only a couple blocks away from your house. The roads were purposefully closed for only pedestrians and shoppers and on the long street, there were multiple shopping stores and people packed this area at night, especially during summer when multitudes of vendors opened, selling delicious foods and offered many games, bargaining with tourists and locals. With a quick jog, he realized two things: first, you weren’t a fast walker since he was able to see you walk into a cafe after successfully catching up, spotting you out of pure luck and second, he really needed to hit the gym again. The way he was struggling to catch his breath after a five minute jog from the house blew his mind as he panted clutching his chest in exaggeration. He panted and stepped into the store across the street of the cafe. It was a little store but filled with stationery. Many young adults filled the shop as they did their own things, making the perfect curtain for Changkyun to see you. From here, he pretended to shop while having a clear way to see you in the cafe. The area was somewhat busy since it was still early but it surprised him how many places were open already and people were already shopping. However, he used this to his advantage so he could easily hide and blend in if you were to ever see him.

When he saw you sit by yourself at the cafe, eyes again glued to your phone, he suddenly felt a wave of reality wash over him. He began to smile, laughing at himself for coming all the way here, mentally slapping himself for even letting his mind stray to doubting you as the first thing when you acted strange. You sat with your own drink but he still wondered why you didn’t just tell him- he would’ve been fine bringing you here himself or even getting some to bring back. But before he left, he stood still when he saw you suddenly look at someone, standing from your seat to give them a hug. Suddenly, everyone around him went silent, the store he stood in went quiet but in reality, it was just his world that went mute. He felt himself freeze in place as he looked across the empty street to the cafe, seeing you smile fondly with Hyungwon, leaving with him. Why were you with Hyungwon of all people? Why didn’t you tell him you were with a member of his group? Why were you with Hyungwon? On your anniversary of all days as well.

In search of a clear answer, he continued to follow the two of you from a safe distance, always going into the store across the street or wherever he could across the street, keeping a close eye on the two of you. Questions kept appearing in his mind the longer he followed the two you going deeper into the street, shopping for a longer time in multiple stores together, very close side by side. You led him from store to store, the conversation never seeming to end between the two of you. The clothes store, jewelry store, grocery store, etc. Why were you with Hyungwon? It was this question he kept asking himself but couldn’t think of a reason as to why. You held up shirts and sweaters, smiling, only to put it back after you shook your head and had a brief discussion and Hyungwon looked at it, holding it up to his own body.

It felt like his spirit was being crushed to dust the longer he had to watch you smile at another man, a taller, skinnier, more handsome man that he envied knowing how many people adored him.

But he slapped himself mentally once again, harder this time. There must’ve been a clear answer and you would tell him right? You two were going to be married after all. Reaching into his pocket, he dialed your phone number, the number he called the most out of all his contacts. He watched carefully, hearing the device call yours in his ear.

You paused the conversation hearing your phone ring in your pocket. You suddenly froze a bit when you saw it was Changkyun.

“Hello?” You spoke calmly on the phone but he didn’t miss the gesture you made to pause Hyungwon’s words, the way the light around your persona dimmed just the slightest when you saw his name on your phone.

“Hey, where are you?” He asked, pretending he wasn’t hurt. Putting on the facade he was clueless, the facade that everything was okay and he didn’t feel a wound being slowly pierced into his chest.

“Kyun, I can’t talk. I’ll be home later, okay?” You evaded, giving a glance to Hyungwon as he watched you speak.

“Yeah, I know. We just planned to watch a movie… So where are you?” He could feel his facade slipping like a mask coming loose around his head.

“Where I am, right….” You repeated, sending a worried look to the tall one. He watched it all like a sick movie, ignoring the searing burn in his throat as he swallowed. “I’m helping my mom with something, sorry I have to go,” you spoke after Hyungwon mouthed something to you but the phone didn’t pick up his words.

“Oh, okay then,” he said nonchalantly. It felt like he was putting the facade on for himself than you as he said these last words. “I love you.”

“Love you too, bye,” you said, hanging up. He missed the relieved look on your faces as the two of you continued shopping. He began to walk toward the end of the block, walking around a couple more before he was at the company building where the streets were busier with traffic. This had done it. He let the facade, the mask he had on fall onto the road, crushing it to nothing as he stepped over it. The piercing wound became a tear, a tear that repeated until there was nothing but little pieces that looked like an impossible puzzle. He felt cold as the sun hid behind the clouds, the day turning gloomy, matching the way he felt. With a fast pace, he kept his hood up, fists buried in his pockets. Stepping into the cool air of the lobby, he nodded at the receptionist who politely bowed, letting him through into the building. After waiting a brief moment, he steed into the empty elevator that played variety of the songs of the various groups under the company. The ride was short but slow. He focused on the song playing, only to realize it was his group’s song, the sound of Hyungwon’s voice making him feel bitter. With a couple strides down the brightly lit hall filled with framed posters of all the groups under the company and a swift finger scan, he stepped into the one place he felt like he could let the ropes he was holding, go. Hearing the door lock behind him with a satisfying click acted like a switch for him, like a signal telling him he was concealed. He let the silence in the room consume him.

The various emotions he felt coalesced into one big mess, bundling, compressing together into a storm inside of him. With a burst of strength, he threw his phone into the cushions of the couch. The device’s flat side slapped against the firm leather cushions of the couch. He dejectedly flung himself into his chair, leaning back, letting out a heavy sigh, looking across the studio. He remembered the day you stayed up late and with him to decorate it. You helped him frame the posters from his favorite movies, help assemble his chair and push the couches and table around as he followed the wordy instructions to build his desk. Although there was only a single framed picture of the two of you on his desk, there were still parts and prints and memories of you all over his studio and he couldn’t for get it. Jealously made him sour and he hated it. He took in everything he could, every sound in an attempt to distract, pull his mind away from the jealous thoughts he had in his mind, but there was nothing. The room was sound proofed. How useful for any other time except now. He was left alone to his thoughts.

“I’m home,” you called excitedly, unknowing the house was completely empty. You hid the bag containing your anniversary gift to Changkyun behind your body in case he was in the living room, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Kyun?” You called out. “Are you here?” You asked as you laid on the first section of the steps, calling upstairs. You heard nothing but the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Sitting on the steps, the later afternoon sun shined through the skylight on the roof of the house. Pulling out your phone, you checked your messages and calls, seeing none from Changkyun. Where was he? Clicking on his contact, you called his number, pressing the cold screen of your device against your ears. Your fingers twisted around the handles of the bag containing his gift sat beside you on the stairs, hearing the call go to voicemail. You checked your messages and voicemails one more time just to be sure, but alas, you saw nothing from him.

“Hey where are you?” You texted him but the message didn’t have the usual delivered message after. Was his phone off? You didn’t know what to think since he hadn’t told you anything. You stood from the stairs and began your surprise, taking the opportunity to get ready while Changkyun was out.

Looking at the time, you were taken a bit back, not realizing you spent so long with Hyungwon today to find a gift for Changkyun. You washed your hands and tied your hair back, preparing the dishes you wanted to make for dinner which consisted of some of your favorites and his favorites. As you washed the vegetables, you couldn’t help but think about Changkyun’s whereabouts, however. You mentally slapped yourself on the wrist for not looking for his gift earlier. The two of you had known each other for four years now and to be engaged in a a couple months but you wanted to make sure it was perfect with the help of Hyungwon.

You stood home alone in the kitchen as time passed, hours rolling by one after the other. Changkyun was still not home. You even made sure to take your time with things but even when all that time passed, he still hadn’t come home. Setting the final dish down, you felt accomplished seeing the dishes you were able to make but as you sat down at the table, the silence settled down around you, the notion that you were alone and have been alone for the last couple hours unsettled you. Grabbing your phone, to your dismay, there were no messages or anything from Changkyun. Opening your messages, the message was finally delivered but unread. Where could he be?

You pressed his contact, holding the cold device on your ear only to hear it repeatedly lead you to the beep to leave a message at the end. You repeatedly sent texts to him only for none of them to be heard. Where was he? You sat alone in the kitchen, as worry slowly began to percolate inside.

“Hyungwon, do you know where Changkyun is?” You sent the message to Hyungwon, going back to trying to call him only for the cal to be disrupted by Hyungwon’s own call to you.

“He’s not home?”

“When I came home, he wasn’t here and he still hasn’t returned any of my calls or messages,” you looked to his bagged gift in the seat beside you. “He didn’t tell me anything while we were out.. did he tell you anything?” You asked, fiddling with the corner of the bag in your hand. The kitchen was filled with the aroma of the dishes you made, making your stomach growl a bit after having really eaten anything since breakfast.

“No, nothing. I’ll ask the others and let you know.”

You sat still in your seat, repeatedly trying to call him and message him, scraping your mind for even the smallest things he possible could’ve said that you missed earlier today, but alas, there was none.

Changkyun sat back, reclined in his seat, his voice low as he mindlessly hummed to the rhythm of the synthesizers and bass mixed for a sample of a song on repeat. At this point, he could recite note for note, beat for beat because of how many times it played, doing its best to drone out thoughts in his mind. But it wasn’t mainly the thoughts that made him feel this burn inside him, no, it was his emotions, the notion that you could’ve been with anyone else in the world and today was proof enough- it was jealousy.

The lights in the room were off, leaving the ones behind his monitors on his desk that changed colors, from one gradient to another. His eyes felt tired after staring at the colors as they glistened on the wall and glass displays beside his desk but it was only his eyes. Then, the office phone the company used on his desk rang, the red light flashing. For the first time in hours, Changkyun paused the music, hearing the sudden silence crash into his ears like when someone jumps into water and then the water suddenly surrounds you.

“Hello?” He asked monotonously.

“Changkyun? You’ve been at the studio this entire time? Have you seen your phone?” The familiar voice of one of his members sounded in his ears. He subconsciously clenched his jaw but felt immediately inferior to the older member. Of course you chose Hyungwon. A lot of people did, and it cracked his heart.

“Shouldn’t you be comforting Y/N?” He spit back, a subtle kick in his words.

“Why would I be with Y/N? It’s your guys’ anniversary.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause by the looks of today, it seemed more like your guys’” he practically scoffed at his words, the feeling of betrayal flooding in as he now spoke with Hyungwon. Still sitting in the dark, the colors changed over his face, the lights still following their pattern.

“You saw us- Go home, Changkyun. Answer your cellphone.” Hyungwon demanded, the pieces for him coming together.

“Why should I listen to you?” Changkyun gripped he phone, contemplating on hanging up, leaving him cut off.

“Just go home. It’s all a misunderstanding but you need to hear it from Y/N,” his voice desperate.

He held the phone, hesitant to say or do anything, but alas, he did as Hyungwon told and hung up. He grabbed his phone off the couch, seeing the tens of messages and calls you left him, though only a few voicemails he listened to. They were all filled with your frantic voice that you just wanted him to come home and to call you back. He could feel a ripple of guilt that began to grow as he walked faster to the point he was jogging home. The fastest way would be through the mall he found you and Hyungwon walking through, but like almost always, it was filled with people as they filled the streets, buying foods and shopping from the numerous vendors. Bodies were pressed through the brightly lit street as people waddled their way through the crowd, trying to buy or see or eat more, making it difficult for Changkyun to get home to you.

You sniffled to yourself, now seated in the living room of your home where he sat earlier today, holding one of his pillows in your arms in the quiet living room with a single lamp on for light. You admired how your ring sparkled in the low light, wishing he would come back soon. Your fingers circled around the wrinkly, worn soft fabric of the case, leaning into the warmth you emitted into the fabric.

He moved as fast as he could through the crowd, maneuvering over the masses of bodies around. He squeezed around, going around others as fast as he could through the mall. The entire area’s atmosphere was filled with a foggy smoke from all the hot foods being sold by the vendors. The smells wafted into his nose as he passed, his stomach grumbling with hunger. He didn’t even realize he had spent the bulk of the day at the studio today without eating anything since breakfast. He finally broke free from the crowd and toward the clear sidewalks of the neighborhoods. The night sky was clear and there were just barely traces of light pink and dark purples far off in the distant horizon, the breeze blowing through his clothes and hair as it bounced with every step as he jogged.

By the time he got to the end of your block, he panted once again as he did earlier, the thought of hitting the gym resurfacing. Standing in front of the house beneath the starry night sky, he was surrounded by the chirps of crickets and the sound of his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Catching his final breaths, he approached the front door. With a cool breeze blowing by and he sound of his keys jingling in his hand on the knob, the door opened to the dimly lit house, the first thing he saw was the lamp in the corner. But then he saw you. You jolted up in your seat as he stepped in, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in as he pushed off his shoes to the side but stopped when he was out, not even realizing what to do with himself now that he was here. He was speechless.

“Kyun,” your voice wavered slightly as you stood, the blanket that was draped over your legs slid off to the ground, pooling at your ankles. “What you saw today, there’s nothing between Hyungwon and I.” You were suddenly before him in a couple of strides. He could see your worn eyes despite having not shed a single tear- not yet at least.

“Then what was it?” He asked, a part of him wanting to infuse venom into his words but another part silencing himself from doing so. The word “misunderstanding” in Hyungwon’s voice sounded in his head.

“It was this,” you said as you stepped into the kitchen, the cold tiles at the bottom of your feet as you snatched his gift in the bag, bringing it back to him. “I know we promised to not do any gifts, I couldn’t help myself but by the time I finally decided to get something, I realized I couldn’t think of anything to get you that would feel perfect enough for you,” you stammered over your words as they came out, feeling like the foundation you built yourself emotionally was crumbling around the edges. “I asked Hyungwon to help me and I hate that I couldn’t make a decision earlier so I could’ve spent all day with you.” You could feel a single tear cascade down your cheek leaving a wet trail over your dry skin. You swallowed over a lump that formed as you spoke, your eyes fell to his hands holding the bag, unable to bring yourself up to see his. You felt ashamed and embarrassed at the same time- ashamed you couldn’t be decisive sooner and embarrassed you couldn’t even look in your own fiancé’s eyes.

Changkyun stood speechless, not able to move his body a single inch. It felt like a cool sensation dropped down his stomach, raising goosebumps all over his body. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, not knowing what he could possibly say, no- he didn’t know where to start.

“I’m so dumb, I should’ve just got-“

“The only dumb person in this house is me,” he cut you off quietly as he embraced you into his arms with the rustling sound of the bag swinging in his hand, catching you off guard. “I let my emotions get the best of me and I should’ve just trusted you. I- I-“ he sighed, not knowing how to continue. “My mind assumed the worst when I saw the two of you two in the mall today. I should’ve just stayed home, answered my phone at least,” he spoke, his arms not letting up. “I’m sorry,” he brought his hand to hold the back of your head, fingers combing through your hair when you accepted his embrace, taking him into your own. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Could you forgive me?” He held your shoulders, breaking away from the hug.

“Of course, Kyun. You’re my fiancé after all.” You took his face in your hands, bringing your lips to his as his hands rested on your hips. “I love you,” you mumbled against his plump lips, his touch never leaving you.

“I love you too, and happy anniversary.” He dipped you backwards a bit, holding your back firmly before he brought his lips back to yours.

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more!

#monsta x #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #monsta x x reader #im #changkyun #changkyun imagines #changkyun scenarios #changkyun x reader #pillowfluffs #im changkyun #im changkyun x reader #im changkyun imagines #im changkyun scenarios

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shadowturtlesstuff · 3 years

Text

Dress part 2

so this is dress from Audrey rose’s perspective. i loved writing this. i finished it a few weeks back and its been slowly edited. i am working on other things, but i can feel my brain slolwy stop working, and i’m failing miserably.

This party is dreadful. Beautiful, but dreadful. The only things that are interesting to me is looking at the gowns being worn and the intricate details I discovered when observing them. And Thomas. But I refuse to acknowledge the latter and fix my gaze on a pale pink dress, little gems of dark pink lining the neckline flowed down the bottom of the dress. My own was of a pale green and blue, the top being blue and slowly turning green, with gems in little pockets so that if I were to dance, to spin, there would just be a flash of colour. It is a shame I will not be dancing tonight. Originally my dress was going to be a deep purple with white pearls around the neckline but I may have overheard Thomas talking to his carriage driver about his own outfit for tonight and may have decided against the purple.

My eyes move away from the gown and find Thomas who is conversing with an old man that I assume is his father. From the scowl on Thomas's face one can assume his father must be a pleasant conversationalist. Then Thomas's gaze slides away from his father and meets mine almost immediately, as if he was waiting for my eyes to find his, or that he could feel my gaze. A smirk replaces his scowl and I try to ignore the blush creeping onto my cheeks as I look away quickly; to find my cousin’s face fixed on mine, and eyebrows raised as she took in my expresion. She took her own gaze at Thomas, then winks at me and I scowl slightly. All night I had been stealing looks at Thomas, to try and notice all the details in his suit. He looked incredibly handsome in his midnight blue and black clothing, his hair brushed back and a permanent look of boredom and contemptment on his face. Apart from when he caught me looking. Then his lips quirked up in a smirk that I wanted to smack off.

It takes all my common sense to stay rooted in my seat and not walk over and ask Thomas to dance. Yet all of this silence and patience, pining and anticipating our next encounter was starting to weigh on my chest, hoarding control over my senses. It was infuriating. My mind was still convinced I did not ever need a husband, yet my mind also wondered about a life where Thomas was by my side. Every time I did the weight would increase slightly and I had no idea how to fix this. We were not even meant to be friends, uncle had warned me a few times when I had gone to investigate something on his behalf, that Thomas was trouble. Yet it always seemed he disliked Mr.Douglas more, and was miserable about the fact we did not have Thomas's particular skill sets on our side.

“It is most important for you young girls to attend not just tea parties, but parties.” Aunt Amilia was saying to us. Liza looked exceptional tonight, her dress was golden yellow with lilac accents. She had been very excited about tonight, about the prospects of romance and the fact she did not attend such things when trapped in the countryside; even though I hadn't been looking forward to tonight, her excitement was invigorating.

I let my aunt and cousin talk as I mess with the bottom of my glass. Attending tonight meant that there was another chance for our murderer to strike, another victim to add to his growing list. I shuddered at the thought of seeing another horrific scene; a woman cut open and dispatched as though she was worth nothing. Uncle and I had conducted post mortems on all the unfortunate women, they all seemed to have similar inflicting wounds yet they were worse each time. Uncle claims our murder is getting more confident as he is taunting the Scotland Yard. As much as I enjoy the magical atmosphere the ball produced; I couldn't help but think it a waste of time. There must be more we could do to find who our perpetrator was. Thomas and I had been discussing theories over the course of the last month whenever we found ourselves together, and even with our skills combined we were no closer than when we started. It certainly didn't help that we kept getting distracted. Thomas is an excellent flirt and seems to want to do just that all the time. It did not help that my mind kept drifting back to our kiss either. I had to keep convincing myself it was the adrenaline that caused me to kiss him, not the fact I had grown to like him very much.

I kept thinking about how his hands burnt my skin, electrifying me and it made me drunk on his touch. I kept wondering what would happen to me if we were to kiss again and if I would be able to control myself. To not drown in his touch.

I caught another glance of him, but his eyes were already upon mine. I looked away just as Mr.Douglas appeared at his side. I slid my eyes back to him as he begrudgingly spoke to his boss. Thomas scowled at something he said.

“Audrey Rose, would you like another glass of champagne brought to you?” Liza asks, capturing my attention away from Thomas. I had only had one and it couldn't hurt to nurse another tonight. So I nodded and watched Aunt Amila gesture to the waiters to bring a glass for me as well as some food for Liza. My glass is replaced and I try to ignore the growing boredom I have.

“May I borrow your daughter for a dance, sir?” The smooth voice of Mr. Thomas Cresswell appears to my left. Slowly I look at him, trying to hide my confusion. And longing. I would very much like to dance with Thomas. I would like to know how it feels to dance with him, whether he can dance. Yet we were not meant to be friends, surely Uncle will notice the fact we are, and perhaps scold me for it. My father looks over at him, surly registering who he is, who his father is and the title he holds. He gives a tight smile. Father is still slowly recovering from his opium addiction. Aunt Amilia arrived so she can keep an eye on him and it makes me happier to see him be less tired. Yet it does cause problems if I need to visit my Uncle. Nathaniel narrows his eyes at Thomas, surly bemused at why his apparent robotic friend would want to dance with me. However he gives a more genuine smile than my father does. Then Uncle scowls. I would much rather face the killer's knife than be in Thomas's position right now. I look towards where Liza is trying stilfe her giggles and can't help but smile too.

“Cert-” My father begins, but does not get far before my Uncle cuts in. Of course he would. Normally he would not care. I am still shocked my Aunt managed to convince him to leave his laboratory for this.

“No.”

“What do you mean no? She's my daughter I suggest you-”

“No. Mr. Cresswell, what are you doing? You do not wish to seek out my niece for the case do you? If so, leave now.” I see Thomas wince slightly, but smile before quickly looking at me and answering:

“No sir, I can see why you'd think that but I truly wish to dance. Your daughter is captivating.” His smooth words wash over me, the honesty in his tone fills my bones, making me more light headed than the champagne ever could.

“I shall dance with you Mr. Cresswell.” I interject before anyone else can speak on my behalf. Thomas is the only one I had wanted to dance with. I make my way to the dance floor, giddy with excitement. My hands shake slightly from the need to hold him.

“I'm glad you saved me. I've been dreadfully bored.” I tell him as he places his hands on my waist, my own finding his shoulder. I forget how tall he is sometimes. I would have to go on my tiptoes if I were to kiss him and he would need to bend to find my lips. He laughs at my words and everything about him relaxes slightly as we begin to dance. Each step is filled with confidence. Of course he'd be perfect at dancing.

“I'll always be the one to save you Wadsworth. I am your Dark Prince. Be sure to think about me and my heroic nature whenever you're alone.” Once again I ignore the blush making my cheeks it’s home and focus on his smirk. His ridiculously arrogant smirk.

“Please; I have more important things to consider than you.”

“You look beautiful, Audrey Rose.The dress is magnificent, compliments you perfectly,” he must be making the connection to his own outfit and contemplating the implications behind it; “although completely unnecessary, I'm sure you are perfectly capable of rendering me speechless without a dress on at all.” Or not. The fiend just wanted to shamelessly flirt with me. To make my skin turn hot and cold all at once while I consider his implications. His eyes hold promise and he no longer wears his impenetrable mask with force. It makes him look younger, more like the man I have grown to know and not the cruel beast society believes him to be.

“You claim I render you speechless yet you still speak? Are you lying or just horribly bad at compliments? Or, you hate the dress but need to charm me nonetheless?” Despite his vaulnrability I must not allow him to have the upper hand in this conversation or I shall never live it down.

“Wadsworth, darling, please; do you really think that little of me? I'm merely stating the obvious, it's what I do best. And I don't need to charm you when you are already infatuated with me. If I were you I would be. And as much as you truly render me speechless with your brilliant mind, I adore your body too, an added bonus, but I will always be able to tell you how astonishing you look.” He looks ready to kiss me, and I know if he did I would let him. It would be quite the scandal but I do not care at this point. We flirt, tease and taunt each other endlessly but it pains me that we do not get to do it as often as we wish. That I do not get to learn each side of Thomas, like this charming man who holds me tightly, as though if he let go of me I'd disappear. I feel as though I might if he did. I search for any lie, anything but the same pain I must be showing on my face. Instead of a kiss, unfortunately, he pinches my sides lightly, as if conveying his words to me. I pinch him back and we smile, content in our own little world.

“It is a good job you are not me then isn't it?” My voice is barely above a whisper and we both know my words hold little bite. People were fools to think Thomas was anything other than lovable. He may be in pain most of the time but that was a part of his charm.

He clears his throat, attempting to control himself, “I've enjoyed the game tonight, our secret moments in this crowded room no one knows about. Each little glance at me gives my heart a rush. Makes it worth being at this blastidly boring event. I've missed you.”

‘I’ve missed you.’

The three words repeat over and over in mind. We spoke this week yet in my bones I understand what he means. We haven't truly discussed our kiss; or our feelings. We are both too wrapped up in our individual fears. Yet even with the confession we dance in comfortable silence.

“When does this get easier?” My voice is quiet for a completely different reason than before. Our eyes meet and I find myself captivated by him, the fact my best friend is not perceived as my friend. A secret that neither of us ever wanted to keep. “I want to stay with you all night, but after this we must return to our lives, I go back to being judged for my curiosity and you will go back to the animatronic villain the world thinks you are. When does it get easier Thomas?”

He contemplates for a moment, his eyes flashing all sorts of emotion before turning to that calculated gaze that feels somehow more intimate than before. If he has an idea on how to make this all better then I have no intention of stopping him.

“Wadsworth, how much does your Uncle hate me?”

“He doesn't hate you, at least I don’t think he does. He- he isn't a person who gives positive opinions on anyone. Even me. But no, I do not think he hates you, just Mr. Douglas. Oh but he doesn't like that you are working against us. For him no less.'' I have believed for some time my Uncle would like Thomas to work with us and attend his school. He never technically speaks ill of him, but of who he works for. I’m half convinced Uncle is upset Thomas did not go to him first.

“It's not ideal, I despise him, he doesn't care about the cases, but of the fame; it makes me near vomit whenever he speaks about the women- or any woman for that matter.” Uncle had said the same thing a few times to me.

“Audrey Rose, if I were to quit would your uncle offer me an apprenticeship?”

“I think so but why?”

“There are more benefits in working with your Uncle than that egotistical man. The main one being right in front of me.'' I gasp slightly and stop for a second. Once again Thomas has left me speechless at how vulnerable he is for me, at how his words caress me and hold such promises that make us both slightly afraid. There was so much wrongness in the world, so much that confused me and left me stranded. Perhaps that is why I relish science so much, in finding out facts from the deceased because they could never lie to me, never hold my brain in such misery that I feel ill. Maybe the familiar feeling of carving open a body meant that it was the only sure thing I knew. That was before Thomas.

Now I know two things for sure. For the most part. Thomas would always baffle me but in the most delightful ways.

Finally I mustered the courage to speak. “You could talk to my uncle tonight, I'm sure he'd much rather discuss the case or anything remotely close to work rather than listening to my Aunt.”

“Would you want me to work alongside you Wadsworth because if not I can-” he would always allow me a choice, but he would always doubt himself too. So I snapped my head up from where I was staring at his chest. His eyes flash as he misunderstands my movements.

“Do not finish that sentence Thomas. Of course I want you to work with me and my Uncle.”

“My brilliance is desperately needed isn't it? I mean you cannot resist my charm.” He adds a wink, lightning the tone and making me roll my eyes in the process.

“No, I'm merely the one saving you from that- that man before he rots the only decent part of your brain.” Half truth, half a lie. I relish in our easy banter.

“If you are the one saving me, will you be like the heroes in the books, because I do recall that they always give their saved maidans a kiss once they are saved?” I blush again at his words, but more so the memory of his lips on mine.

We had been investigating when two ruffians attacked, so we fled to safety in an alleyway. With one look we were both upon each other, clinging desperately as our lips met, the feeling of being lost in him, the feeling of his hair beneath my gloves. Of the sweetest kiss he added after we broke apart. Even after then Thomas had doubted his actions slightly and apologized but in that moment I didn't care about anything but him. I'd seen a new side to him that night, one I wished to witness again.

We were coming to the end of our second dance, any more would be considered improper. Thomas seemed to stumble onto that fact too as his grip tightened ever so slightly. Just enough for me to notice. I doubt even his impressive deduction skills noticed his own movement as he was too fixated on my face. It made me smile slightly. Even as I knew I'd have to break apart and return to my table. To Liza's knowing smile and teases, to the males scowling and whatever my Aunt thought.

Slowly I let go of him, the music coming back into my head, as though I had stopped paying attention to it. We walk back to my table and I take my seat, hand going onto my glass as I calm my heart. Thomas stands there awkwardly by the empty chair, so I kick it slightly with a smile playing at my lips. He scowled but sat down. I tried desperately to ignore my cousin, I knew she watched me dance and would inform me of her opinions on it and on Thomas.

Everyone at the table is silent, watching and waiting. My father orders a glass of champagne for Thomas, which indicates either he likes Thomas or the title he holds. I watch as Thomas messes with the rim of the glass. My friend has never been exactly good at social interactions and becomes restless faster than a toddler. Uncle is glaring at Thomas so my father elbows him and it seems so unlike them I smile. They are no longer close due to my mother’s death, but perhaps my Aunt can change that for the better, at least a little bit whilst she is here.

“So Mr. Cresswell, my son has been telling me a bit about you, what is it you do again?”

I've not spoken to Nathaniel about Thomas. In fact I haven't spoken to him in quite a number of days. I make a mental note to fix that.

“I'm a scientist sir.” My fathers face drops, either having that information made true or knowing Nathaniel had missed it out deliberately.

“Surely a man of your title would pursue something other than that?”

“Science isn't about titles sir, it's just the pursuit of knowledge. You must want to know how things work, how things are made. I enjoy learning about the body, the world and how it works.” My father narrows his eyes at him. He used to enjoy that sentiment before my mother died. He loved making things. It was his form of science. Perhaps if mother had not died he would be more open to my love of science. I'm filled with silence that floods my head until Thomas taps the table slightly. My attention turns to his warm smile, one that tells me everything I need.

I am not morally corrupt for liking science. I return the smile, a silent thank you.

Silence falls on our table and I find Liza watching me and Thomas with something like wonder on her face. When she notices me she smiles, then raises her eyebrows up and down and we both nearly snort with laughter. But we control ourselves as Uncle takes a seat next to Thomas. His gaze makes Thomas bounce his knee in the annoying way he does when he is nervous.

“Would it be okay for me to attend your school sir?” Thomas askes suddenly

“Yes, on one condition; you must stop working for Mr. Douglas.”

Neither of us were surprised by the condition, although I am miserable that Thomas was accepted so quickly. I had to beg my Uncle to let me join and I've only ever been once. His stipulation for me was to remain quiet. Quite a task when the ‘men’ partaking in his lesson squirmed more than I did.

“Of course.”

After a few minutes Thomas returns to his table and my Uncle stays in the seat he's in, instead of going back to the seat beside my father. My father returns to his conversation with Nathaniel, Liza and Aunt Amelia being talking again. I look to uncle in hopes he will talk to me, but he is looking at his plate of food miserably. So I sit alone silently.

“Mr. Wadsworth? May I join you this fine evening?” The voice of Mr. Blackburn pierces my thoughts. He takes the seat that was my Uncles and smiles brightly at me. “It is lovely to see you, Miss. Wadsworth. You look beautiful.”

I force a smile as my mind wanders to the words Thomas uttered to me earlier. They felt real. It leaped at me and held me tightly. Blackburns’ felt much like my smile. Forced. Polite. I had no idea what he was doing here. If he wanted to talk about the case I'm sure he'd drag Uncle somewhere.

“Thank you.” I say, turning to look at Liza and begging her to help me out. But Aunt Amelia cuts in instead.

“She looks delightful doesn't she? You must dance together.”

I try to hide my wince but it clearly doesnt work as Liza smirks at me.

“Before you do that there is something we must discuss Audrey Rose,” Blackburn states, his tone makes me squirm in my seat like a child, Uncle looks up from his food finally and they look at each other carefully, “We need you both tomorrow at the station, the Ripper has sent another letter.”

So Uncle was right when he spoke about the killer's confidence another letter surely meant he was ready to strike again. I must speak to Thomas, get him to be at the station with us, he will likely notice things we would normally miss.

“Certainly.” Was all Uncle responded with. Especially since we both noticed my father’s glare at us all.

“Both? Both? When I told you to court my daughter I didn't expect you to let her see such horrors. You were to stop her madness not help it prevail.” He snaps at Blackburn. Anger rose as I understood what my father was saying. He had graciously allowed Blackburn to court me, to marry me, without even mentioning it once to me. I was clearly too much to handle and must be doused before I dare have a life of my own choosing.

“You have been secretly courting me?” I snapped at him, rising from my seat. “Father, why on earth would you allow this? I have a right to know, to choose for myself.”

“Audrey Rose, sit down and be quiet, you're making a scene.” My Aunt snaps back. Of course, our reputation is in such jeopardy if I stand up for myself.

How had I missed Blackburns’ advances, my fathers scheme? What else were they hiding from me? My father was enraged with me, Blackburn had the guts to look sorry for me. It was utterly ridiculous. I hated him, hated my father, hated society. Myself. I'd missed it because I had convinced myself he was a friend. I was so desperate I had ignored my intuition. I was pathetic.

Instead of sitting down I pushed my chair far back and began walking out of the ballroom. I needed air. Needed control. Needed Thomas. A thought I refused to linger.

The cold air bit at my skin, seeped inside me as I walked to the edge of the garden. The darkness comforted me as tears freely slipped down my face. I was a fool. I didn't want to marry Blackburn. I wasn't sure I wanted to ever marry. I just wanted to be a scientist. I wanted-

“Miss. Wadsworth, is everything okay?” Thomas appears behind me and I find it so utterly cruel that he gets to see me so vulnerable. Not an hour ago had we danced, had we been happy and now I was apparently being courted so I spun around and let out a joyless laugh.

“Perfect, Mr. Cresswell. I am a woman in this absurd society so I must not dare think about anything remotely masculine. I must not be able to pick who I love but have my father arrange it without informing me.” I spit at the words at him, knowing he was not to blame but knowing he was the only one willing to listen to me.

“Audrey Ro-”

“Blackburn. He chose Blackburn. He was never nice to me to be my friend, but because of him and my fathers scheming. If he hadn't been he would not have been this nice to me. I know I am not exactly the nicest person and that my interests disgust society but it was nice to have a friend.” I whisper the last part as though I voice how pathetic I am.

“Am I not your friend Audrey Rose?” His voice is an attempt at a joke, I think, but it is also tinged with pain. I consider Thomas my best friend, and it hurts me he thinks otherwise.

“You are but you're different, you; I don't need to try with you Thomas. I have to try with everyone but you.” He dares a step towards our eyes finally meeting. We needn't say a thing for us to understand each other.

“Wadsworth, I find it easy with you too. More than I even understand. This world is cruel and I wish more than anything to make it better for you, for it to be better in general. I- my father long ago gave up trying to marry me off, deeming me worthless and unable to love, and I still cannot figure out which is worse.” This was another side of Thomas he was showing me, to tell me that we may not fit into society but it doesn't matter too much. The fact will always hurt us slightly but we learn to live with it. Eventually.

He takes my gloved hands and rubs small circles over my palm sending shivers over my body. “You are worth more to society than they realise, so please keep fighting for your freedom. I will forever remain your friend if that is what you wish to happen, to help you figure this world out.” His confession replaces the darkness clinging to me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be a wife, but Thomas always made me doubt that. He would always give me my freedom because he understood how important it was to me. I tighten my grip and he catches his breath as I take another step closer.

“Thomas,” My voice is somewhat breathless, my own breathing failing me, “you are not unlovable, your father is a fool. An utter fool. I want you by my side always, I fear I couldn't do this without you.” I go closer, impossibly so, “What if, what if it was more than friends though?” I may have overstepped with my question, we were in such uncertain territory to what we felt and I wished I could take back the words. What if Thomas wanted nothing more than friendship? The kiss we had could have just been adrenaline for him. His flirts may be out of boredom or something else I couldn't understand.

“I- I’m sorry.” I stutter when he doesn't respond to me. I take a step back, ready to return to the line placed between us. Where I would forever remain it seems.

That is until his hand tightened on mine and brought me back forward. My face widens in shock.

“Wadsworth I'd like that too.”

There is a second of silence as it sinks in. “You would?”

“More than anything. I care deeply about you. I shall court you like a proper gentleman if that is what you wish.” We return to standing apart and I can't help but snort at his insane statement.

“You are anything but a gentleman Cresswell.” I smile brightly as we both laugh. “It may be my favourite thing about you.” He flashes me a devilish smile.

“I am fully aware, love, that you love the scandalousness of my words. Would you like to go back inside or return home, I am sure I can get us a carriage to share.”

“Us? Thomas you do not live with me.”

“Yet,” he adds. I roll my eyes at his dramatic nature despite picturing how lovely it would be to live with him. “It would be ungentlemanly to let you return home alone; and purly scandalous to be in close quarters with you.'' Once again I ignore his words and begin to walk to where the carriages await. I couldn't care less if father got mad at me for going home. I knew I had to be lectured anyway.

“Very well, you may escort me home. From a distance.” I emphasise this to make sure he understands. He merely laughs at me.

When I make nearly a quarter of the distance and do not find Thomas with me I spin around and find him watching me with a weird expression on his face. He is captivating as he stares at me, his eyes full of wonder. His perfect hair has fallen in his face slightly, disheveling him slightly. My brows burrow in confusion at what could make him look like this, but I relish the look he gives me anyway. He really is a dark prince; standing tall in his dashing suit. He blinks when he releases I've stopped then begins to follow me.

“Are you alright?” I ask as he falls into step with me.

“Yes of course, I get to leave with the most dazzling woman at the party.”

We link arms, pay for a carriage and start to head towards my home. We sit across from each other, but the carriage is small and Thomas obnoxiously spreads his legs out so they brush against me and it takes all my willpower not to just place my hand on his knee, slowly stand then lean over him and kiss him. He nudges me and I raise my gaze, he tells me something but I've no clue what.

I blink and feel the heat of my blush form on my face. Which Thomas notices and smirks wickedly at me whilst raising his eyebrows in amusement.

“Wadsworth?” He asks and I hum a response and try to snap out of my indecent thoughts.

“Cresswell?” I attempt words, not sure that I can manage more than his name.

“My kiss? I am still waiting for it.”

When did I promise him a kiss? Not that I do not want to kiss him. He leans closer, knee hitting mine. I feel the heat of him envelop my senses even as I remember our dance and the words he teased me with. For a moment I see him doubt and so I lean in to make sure he doesn't regret being in here with me, regret asking to kiss me.

His lips are soft as they meet mine. I feel his hand rest on my knee as I deepen the kiss. My night has been abysmal and I do not think I would have made it if Thomas was here. I adore the feeling of his lips on me and find my hands wandering on his knees. This is so vastly different from the first kiss and it makes me wonder if our kisses will always be different. Thomas pulls back, resting his head on my forehead and searches my face. I am a complete mess as he looks me over and he smiles at the result of our kiss. He presses a lingering kiss then sits back. I return to being pressed against the back of the carriage as we regain our composure. But I feel his legs still against mine so I brush my own against him and his warm smile against his flushed face made my heart nearly burst.

“I should save you from boring events more often if it means kissing you like that.” The words hold the same promise as the kiss and I smile brightly at him. I didn't think I wanted a husband but perhaps being with Thomas my feelings would change. Even in my worst time Thomas would stand by me, and I'd stand by him. We would make mistakes, argue; but I felt the truth sink in that we would always see the truth in each other. He was my one and only lifeline and I do not think I could ever truly explain the feelings as they raced around in my body faster than I could comprehend.

@fangirling-again @goatahoan @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @purplecreatorhorsewagon @kittycat2187 @padfoot-sirius-black @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing @lovecakeandmore @loveyatopluto @yikesitsmaddie

#sjtr #hpd #efh #ctd #cressworth #cresswell #thomas cresswell #audrey rose wadsworth #stalking jack the ripper #hunting prince dracula #escaping from houdini #capturing the devil #thomas and audrey rose

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hopesbarnes · 4 years

Text

Black Swan (13)

Summary: Y/N used to be a Russian spy under the code name Black Swan. But that was a lifetime ago, now she’s a part-time avenger, dance teacher, surrogate sister to Natasha Romanoff, and trainer to new Shield Agents. She’s come a long way from the days of killing targets and being tortured. But when someone from her past comes around will she be able to ignore her history anymore? Or will she end up falling in love with the only man her sister ever loved?

A/N: Please vote if you haven’t!!!!

It’s been a long time since you were in love. Almost 30 years. Back then you were nothing but a naive child. He had taken that away.

You met Demetri at 18, right after your parents died. He complimented you, took you on dates and you fell in love. Only it wasn’t real. He was just apart of the KGB and tasked to find a girl for the widow program, and you were the perfect candidate. Familyless and ballet trained. It was only after you were taken that you realized his lies. After that you vowed not to love again, it wasn’t worth it.

Then… Bucky came along. He was just as broken as you. The walls came down quickly, and here you are three decades later in love again. This time felt different though. No longer did you want to prove yourself, or change yourself to please him. Instead, you just wanted to tell him about your day and listen to his old war stories. Love felt good.

Both of you knew that the bubble your relationship existed in needed to pop soon. Nat was suspicious about the guy you told her about and Sam kept nagging Bucky about going on a date. But for now, you kept sneaking around and enjoyed the time together while it lasted.

You felt arms wrap around you and turned to see Bucky with his head on your shoulders.

“Hello, love,” you said and turned your head to peck his lips. Being in his arms is your new favorite place. He makes you feel safe and loved. Something the Widow program did it’s best to permanently destroy.

“Should probably stop hugging you before someone walks in,” he said.

“One more second,” you remark.

After a few more seconds he lets go and moves to a safe distance across the room. It’s getting harder to hide your feelings for him, especially since all you want to do is shout to the team every sweet thing he’s done.

“I hate that I can’t show everybody how much I love you,” he pouts like a toddler.

“We need to tell them,” you hum.

“What if,” he says and then looks down. You can tell he wants to say something but is holding hack.

“What if what hun?” you ask.

“What if they don’t think I’m good enough for you.”

“Steve thinks I’m not good enough for you,” you laugh and the super-soldier looks at you confused.

“I- uh a few months ago he gave me a whole dad talk telling me not to hurt you.”

“Punk.”

You laugh at this, and Clint enters the room then. He’s fidgeting with his hands and his hair looks as if his hands have run through it a million times today.

“Whatcha laughing about there?”

“Steve” is all you say and Bucky nods before leaving the room.

“Can I talk to you?” Clint asks as soon as Bucky is out of earshot.

“What’s up?”

“So I think I want to propose,” he says. “To Nat! Not sure if that was clear,” he says frantically.

“You guys are really serious, huh?”

“I love her a lot. Like a lot a lot, and want to have her in my life forever,” Clint says with a puppy dog look on his face.

“Are you looking for me to give you her hand?” you laugh.

“No- I uh. I wanted your help to find a ring.” You can’t help but swoon. Clint went to you to find a ring. Natasha would find this incredibly sweet when she found out. She deserved everything in the world, and Clint would give it to her. You quickly agree to shop with him and set up a plan to head out tomorrow on the ‘mission’.

The next day you went with Clint to find a ring. A simple engagement ring didn’t quite fit the notorious spy. She needed something simple yet daring, a ring that said ‘yes I’m married but that won’t stop me from kicking your ass’. Clint was deadset on getting a non-diamond ring, and you agreed. The clear gem didn’t say, Natasha. And both of you knew she wouldn’t care how expensive or pristine the ring was (even though Clint could afford an expensive ring).

So needless to say, this ring needed to be perfect. And surprisingly Clint was picky. One ring was too basic, another too square. One wouldn’t match her eyes, and another would be too small on her.

The setting was easy to pick though, once he saw one with small arrowheads framing a stone he was set. And you agreed, it was a simple enough shape that strangers wouldn’t automatically see arrows, but enough that everyone would know it signified Clint. After that, the red-purple debate happened.

You both were quick to rule out any other color stone, and have the final pick be between a ruby and an amethyst. Clint wanted the ring to be purple to signify him, and you claimed Natasha would want the ring to be red, her signature color. Had the woman working at the jewelry store not known who you Clint and Natasha were, she would think the conversation was insane. But she knew better than to mess with the future Mr. Romanoff (Clint wanted to take her name, and that would be a debate the two of them have without you).

Finally, after two hours of going back and forth, you settled on the Ruby. He realized that the mix of the arrow design and red stone would be a good representation of both of them. And that the ring would look good whenever she wore Red.

When you got back to the compound later you knew you had to tell Natasha. You wanted what she’s about to have, and the only way to get that would be by having your relationship out in the open. So you texted Bucky and went to bed knowing tomorrow everything would be known.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #captain america tws #the winter soldier

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mcchipisfried · 4 years

Text

DEArtfest Day 4 - Proposal

Oh boy was this one hard (There were a lot of things I wanted to do but I could only do so much). I put in some Easter eggs for anyone who reads this just like how I’m planning to hide little things in my drawings.(If you want to find out these Easter eggs, check out Detroit Awakening on YouTube and maybe read up on some of your favorite lines from Detroit Evolution. I’ll have the Easter eggs listed at the end of the prompt!)

Gavin began pacing the inside of his living room the moment he had made it home. Nines had to stay and help Tina with some paperwork of sorts since she had recently become a detective and was still “adjusting” to everything she needed to do. This was of course a lie, but Nines had promised to not scan people unless they were in immediate danger so the chances of him catching on to the fact that Tina was lying were very slim, but never zero.

He had left the precinct as soon as he was finished with his work, which had been much earlier than usual, and had made it home in record time, although he wasn’t gonna ponder the fact that he had maybe run some red lights on the way. Maybe. But all his law breaking had a very good excuse, or at least that’s what he told himself.

It was an unofficial anniversary that Gavin kept to himself, where he would treat Nines just a little bit nicer, even going as far as to be more affectionate with him in public. Not that he was ashamed of being with Nines but it was embarrassing to get knowing looks around the precinct whenever he walked around with a blush that always seemed to reach his ears. But why, you may ask, was this day so special? It wasn’t the day they began their relationship, or any of their birthdays, so why was this day anything to celebrate? Well, it was actually the day Gavin and Nines had been assigned to be partners. March 27. How could Gavin forget the way he practically stormed out of Fowler’s office, shoving past Nines - then the RK900 - and failing to even budge him an inch. He had been angry, to be partnered up with a machine whose only purpose was to kill other androids, but that just wasn’t the case anymore, and truthfully it never was. It took three months for Gavin to even begin to see him as anything more than an android, much less a friend. But now, they were so much more. And Gavin thought that after everything they had gone through, they were finally ready for the next step.

Gavin had a ring, a very simple one. A small gold band that would look perfect with anything that Nines decide to wear any day of the week, if he said yes. Gavin had known that Nines was the one for him for a while now. He dealt with his “tantrums” and outbursts of energy whenever they came. He never bothered Gavin, about his very specific fixations and always helped him with his nightmares, now transformed. Sometimes he was a kid, sitting in the cold, waiting to die. Those weren’t so bad anymore. Other times he was in the alley, holding Nines in his arms, his LED off, and no one to hear his cries. Those were the worst. The worst of him, but Nines stayed. He would wake Gavin and just hold him until all he could see was Nines. But what mattered most was that he stayed and wasn’t that all he ever really needed?

Gavin had been planning the whole day weeks in advance. Nines couldn’t really eat so he had saved himself from having to prepare him a fancy dinner, but he could still do other things, like clean the apartment. Which he had done that morning. He had planned to take Nines out but they both knew that Gavin, even if he left work two hours earlier, would be exhausted and would immediately start complaining about having to leave the comforts of their home so that idea was quickly thrown out the window. He was still pacing the apartment before he finally sat down and put his head in his hands. What was he supposed to do? Everything he thought of seemed wrong or insignificant. He wanted this to be perfect but he couldn’t think of a way to make it perfect or even enough. He wasn’t enough.

Gavin gently took the ring out of his pocket and looked at it. It really was a simple ring, no lavish gems to adorn the outside of it, no meaningful engravings, it was just a simple band, and yet it was perfect. In his mind he could picture Nines, handing him his morning coffee and the ring shining against the light from his computer. Nines holding his hand as they walked around the park, the ring pressing firmly into his fingers. Nines holding his face as they gently kissed, the ring cold against his cheek. Nines. Nines. Nines.

After everything they had been through Nines stayed with him. With Gavin. Simple Gavin. Who didn’t have a lavish job or apartment. No pretty words to win people over with. Just simple Gavin who was messy, rude, lazy, and who right now, was wearing his heart out on his sleeve.

He turned to look at the table as his phone began to ring. Tina. Oh no. He picked up the phone.

“Tina, what’s up-” he began to say before Tina interrupted him.

“Gavin we’ve got a problem. Nines finished helping me out with all the paperwork and he’s on his way to you now”

“Wait wait wait” Gavin began to pace again

“What do you mean now? Those papers should have taken at least an hour and I thought you were supposed to distract him with some other bullshit before I gave you the cue?”

“I know but he slipped away! The papers were finished pretty quickly and I had to go send them to Fowler but by the time I had made it back he was gone! Gav I’m so sorry” Tina said, definitely sounding very apologetic.

Gavin sighed. He wouldn’t have time to do anything before Nine’s made it back home.

“It’s fine, T. I'll see what I can do”

“Are you sure? I can try calling him and say I need help moving my desk?”

“No, he’s probably almost here. I’ll call you later and tell you what happened.”

“Okay...and Gavin?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s gonna say yes. Call me!”

Tina hung up before Gavin could say anything else. He looked at his phone and thought of Tina’s words. “He’s gonna say yes” And god he hoped that was true. He turned to face the door when he thought he heard the sound of even steps approaching. Shit. He was out of time. There was nothing he could do except…

Gavin rushed to the door and did the only thing he could think of before he heard the door being unlocked from the other side.

...

Nines had finally finished helping the newly Detective Chen, who he had to remind himself to call Tina, with her rather easy paperwork. Although there was a lot of it, the overall difficulty was hardly anything that he couldn’t do within the hour. He glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed it was still rather early. He had finished his work at around the same time as Gavin but had been left behind in the wake of Tina’s cries for help. It seemed the detective wouldn’t need any more help and if she did she could always talk to another officer. He walked out of the precinct and quickly called down a cab. He still hadn’t learned how to drive and had honestly never seen the need to since Gavin was usually his ride home. As he got into the cab and told the driver the address of the apartment he began to think back on the day's events. Funnily enough, the day had been rather uneventful, with barely any cases and little paperwork, the most interesting thing that had happened that day was interacting with Gavin, but to Nines that was always the most interesting and best part of his day.

Gavin had been rather nice that day, if a bit too nice. He joked around with Tina but barely teased or messed with Nines, simply talking to him and smiling whenever he caught him staring. Gavin had even been brave enough to lightly kiss him on the cheek when he had handed Gavin his afternoon coffee, which he was very pleased by.

The only strange thing he noticed was when he had gone into the break room to have his usual five minute gossip break with Tina. Not that he was one for talking about his co-workers but Tina was always ready to share what she had overheard throughout the day. When he entered the break room he saw Gavin and Tina, who were quietly whispering to each other until he had entered, at which point Gavin had gotten up, patted Nines on the shoulder and left. Before Gavin had turned the corner Nines had quickly scanned him and saw that his stress levels were higher than usual but before he could ask Gavin if he was alright, Tina had begun to talk his ear off. And by the time he had made it to his desk, Gavin was already packing up for the day and Tina was quickly bringing in her tablet to begin the work she had needed help with.

Before he had even realized, he was already stepping outside of the cab and heading towards the apartment. As he approached the door, he heard quiet footsteps inside reach the door just as he began to unlock it. He heard a soft thud just on the other side of the door, and as he began to open it, he looked down not really imagining what he would find in front him. He let out a soft gasp, completely unnecessary because of his android body but expected of his human heart as it squeezed inside his chest.

There on his knee, was Gavin, and in his hand was a ring. The most beautiful and perfect thing he could ever picture. His eyes widened in surprise, his programming not quite catching up to what he thought, no, what had to be going before Gavin began to speak.

“Nines...you are...no um wait...Nines...I don't know where my life is headed, but I know that I need you in it, to make sure I don’t do something really stupid” Gavin chuckled, but chocked back a bit. His eyes were watering a bit and he was looking at Nines like he was everything he would ever need. Like he was enough.

Nines could feel himself beginning to fall apart, he didn’t know if he could cry, he had never done it before but it felt like he was about to burst with tears. He laughed a little at Gavin’s joke but didn’t try to interrupt him.

“Okay...okay Tin Can…” Gavin smiled, happy to see Nines laugh. “I need you. I need you to come back home. Everyday of my fucking life. And I know that’s kinda hard to believe because I was the absolute goddamn worst to you. Did you know that today is the same day we first became partners?” Gavin had begun to look down but looked up when he said this. Nines brought his shaking hands up to his mouth but Gavin continued before he could answer.

“I remember...Chris and Tina took bets on how long it would take us to kill each other.” He smiled at the thought as tears began to run down his face. “But…you stuck through it. Gave me as much shit as I gave you and eventually I stopped doing it to piss you off and did it...did it ‘cause it’s just what we do. You are my partner. You are my best friend. And you are…” he chuckled more, as he remembered saying this once before.

“...this force in my life that I can’t live without. I don’t want to look back. I will never be able to see a future without you. No matter what’s happened, you have never given up on me. Stay with me, Nines. Forever?” Gavin lifted up the ring, closer to Nines. He couldn’t be bothered to wipe the tears from his face as he smiled. Silently pleading, that he was enough, that this was enough.

“...yes.” Nines whispered. He crumpled to the ground and with shaking hands, let Gavin slowly slide the ring onto his finger. It shined from the light coming from inside the apartment, and before Gavin could even begin to process what this meant for them, Nines took him into his arms, and there on the entrance to their home, they held each other. Nines couldn’t stop whispering the same answer over and over against Gavin's shirt and Gavin couldn’t stop shaking from what had just happened. Nines said yes. He was still saying yes and all he could do was keep crying because after everything that happened this was enough. That stupid ring was enough. He was enough.

Nines gently pulled away from Gavin and held his face against his hands, the ring warm against his cheek.

“I love you” Nines whispered, before he gently leaned in to give Gavin a firm kiss on his lips. Gavin sobbed against it and held on to Nines tighter, like he was the only thing keeping him from flying away. Nines gently pulled away, just barely grazing his lips against Gavin’s.

“I did know.” Nines said, looking at Gavin as he opened his eyes and gave him a confused stare.

“About the date. March 27. The day we became partners. You cussed me out before storming out of Fowler’s office.” They both laughed at this. “I remembered the date but I never realized you were the romantic type Detective Reed”. Gavin blushed as they slowly began to get up and make their way inside.

If you were to stand on the other side of the hallway, you’d be able to hear Gavin tell Nines to shut up just as the door fully closed. You’d be able to hear their muffled laughter as they made their way into the living room. And if you stayed long enough, you’d be able to hear the sound of Tina and Chris’ laughter and words of encouragement of the future to come.

Hey! Did you know that Detroit Awakening came out on March 27, 2019?

Hey! Did you know some of my favorite lines from Detroit Evolution are from when Gavin is talking to Nines while he is recovering from Ada’s attack?

#fanfic #detroit evolution #reed900 #gavin reed #rk900 nines #deartfest #proposal

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ythmir-writes · 4 years

Note

may I request soft + lucifer?

fandom: Obey Me!

feat: Lucifer

no warnings!

A/N: and thank you for requesting him! my first Obey Me fic is for my bestest boi, so i am v happy ﾟ*｡(･∀･)ﾟ*｡

Soft

Lucifer entered the study and was not surprised to find Kita poring over their mountain of notes, muttering something under their breath. From the way their forefinger was repeatedly going over a line, it seemed they were intent to memorize a certain passage before turning the page.

He closed the door and kept his gaze on them as they continued to mutter, closing their eyes as their fingers began tapping on the table to help with some rhythm or other. Twice, they blew out a breath in frustration. And then they nearly swore, grabbed the book in both hands and looked for all intents and purposes, as if they were scolding it for being utterly confusing and hard to remember.

Lucifer nodded to himself. This was good.

He was pleased to see that Kita was taking the RAD midterms very seriously and he took satisfaction in knowing that they had taken his warnings of torture and hellfire, should they fail, to heart. Everyone should take his warnings to heart; it would save him all the trouble.

But as Kita carried on, Lucifer found that he was somewhat displeased all the same.

Kita had not noticed Lucifer enter study, nor did they turn their head to where he stood, continuing only to stare at the book in front of them.

Lucifer had half a mind to call out to them. How long had it been since they started studying now? Perhaps it would be best for them to pause and take a break?

But he hesitated, remaining by the door with Kita’s name and the words he wanted to say only half-formed on his tongue. Because reaching out would mean distracting Kita from what he had told them to do. He disliked the idea of pulling them away from what looked like a good flow in their work, and consequently opening himself to the possibility that he would be used as an excuse to discontinue any studying.

Besides, did he not himself disliked the idea of being interrupted whenever he was busy? Did he not go to great pains to make sure none of his brothers would make a mess when he needed to concentrate?

And yet.

It would seem that Lucifer disliked the idea of remaining unnoticed more.

So what exactly was he hesitating for? Surely, it was only a matter of calling Kita’s attention now, wasn’t it?

Lucifer took a deep breath, slightly unnerved that his thoughts would wander about before he could make a decision – but before he could even call to Kita, they had startled, turned their head, and looked at him.

“Oh, Lucifer.” Kita said, putting down the book. “I didn’t notice you there.”

“Yes.” Lucifer said, tone even, biting down the words you didn’t as he collected himself and ignored how now he was certain he very much disliked what he had just experienced and heard. But there was no sense in letting Kita know, much less any sense in allowing his mind to drag the issue further.

“I happened to pass by and saw the lights were open. You’re hard at work.”

“Yeah.” Kita repressed a sigh. “I’m in a bit of a rut, though. Hell has extensive history and I am trying very hard to memorize these names but it’s all just…” They trailed off, made a face that was almost one of distaste.

Lucifer waited for them to continue, using the silence to bridge the gap between them. When Kita only angled their head at him, Lucifer shook his in understanding.

“It bored you, didn’t it?”

“Not exactly…”

Lucifer almost snorted. “Trying to lie to a Demon, now?”

“Okay, fine.” Kita raised their hands. “But I was not bored, you know, exactly. I just felt it was all very monotonous.”

Lucifer quirked a brow.

Kita continued at his prompting. “I had thought that Hell’s rulers would have had more experiences that involved war and killing. You know, backstabbing and drama and mayhem! Instead, Hell’s history has been nothing but boring procedure and inheritance and deciding if a cousin or two could rule some lower province!”

“We are Demons.” Lucifer said. “Not uncultured savages.”

“I didn’t say that and you know I don’t mean it that way.” Kita rolled their eyes in mock exasperation, waved their hand at the book. “But this is all just so uninspiring and plain. If I wanted to know about Diavolo’s lineage and how much pedigree he has, I should be reading it from a very fancy and very elaborate Family Book. Not a book entitled History of Hell: In-depth Analysis of Important Historical Events.”

“That’s fair.” Lucifer chuckled. He’d had the same thoughts with the class then. “You better make extra effort then. I’ve heard that test is particularly tricky.”

Kita groaned into their hands.

“And you better not fail.” Lucifer reminded them.

“Sure. Your murderous pep talk last night at the House is a great motivator. Keeps replaying in my head how anything that will tarnish the name of the Great Lord Diavolo deserves only pain.” But Kita did not sound enthused.

“Punishment is the best motivator.”

Kita lifted their face from their hands. “Must it always be about punishment –”

“We are literally in Hell.”

“ – can’t I simply want to be a good exchange student and make you proud?”

Lucifer raised a brow and snipped away the tendrils of warmth that threatened to wrap around what little remained of his heart. He could not help but repeat what Kita had just said in disbelief. “You want me to be proud of you?”

“Humans can be very competitive!” Kita hurriedly added as they rubbed the back of their neck. An attempt, Lucifer noted, to hide the blush they usually had on that spot. “Can’t lose to Demons – even if they are the Lords of Hell – Luke won’t let me hear the end of it if I got less marks than Mammon or Asmo.”

Right. Right, of course. It would not have anything to do with him.

And yet.

Lucifer nodded. “Then do your best to make sure the little chihuahua won’t have anything to bark about.”

Kita averted their gaze. “Right.”

Silence lingered between them; Kita looking down at their book, hands still on their neck, Lucifer still standing and not quite knowing how to carry on with the conversation.

He should go. He should leave Kita to their studies, as was his original intention. He shouldn’t take more time than he already did from their schedule and he shouldn’t say anything further that would only prove to be distractions for the two of them. Idle conversation that would most likely lead to nothing unproductive. Besides, they would need a lot of time memorizing all the names –

“Well, then –”

“Lucifer, look – ”

They started to speak at the same time, stopped at the same time, and stared at each other waiting for the other one to start again.

“You go.” Kita then said.

“No, you continue.” Lucifer said, placing emphasis on his next words. “I insist.”

Kita seemed to recognize the tone he used as the one that brooked no argument. They took a deep breath, hesitating at first, before very slowly patting the book in front of them. “Can you help me with this?”

“What?”

“I mean – if you’re not too busy, of course.”

Lucifer stared at them as they continued to ramble, continued to explain that they knew Lucifer was also studying for exams on top of council duties but that he did tell all of them to study well – and they were trying, all the brothers have sworn off any shenanigans for two days – but they also know he’d aced this test before and Kita was, quite frankly, completely at a loss so if he could help them and maybe quiz them so they could retain the names more, that would be immensely helpful and they would be forever grateful.

“And,” Kita continued, nearly out of breath, “if you have any nuggets of wisdom now is the right opportunity to maybe share.”

Lucifer knew he could count the times when prizes had been so deliberately placed in front of him for the taking with little effort, knew he’d not even reach the count of three, knew that all he needed to do at the moment was to pluck the gem laid out before him and take it for what it was: a golden opportunity best taken advantage of while it lasted.

These moments were far and few in-between; life had never really been kind to him.

But he could not help but be a fool – a prideful fool – who distrusted anything he did not schemed for or forcibly took. “What it’s in it for me?”

“What?” Kita looked genuinely bewildered.

“What do you offer in exchange for my help?” Lucifer leaned on the table, wanting nothing more than to take back what he said and yet couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. “My help comes at a cost.”

“Cost? I’m just asking for – oh. Oh.” Kita clasped their hands together, eyes brightening.

And again, this took Lucifer by surprise. He had expected them to sulk, or retract their plea, or at least be annoyed at him. Kita had come from genuine need for results – a result he had demanded of them – and here he was demanding something from them again. If Lucifer were in Kita’s position, he would not hesitate to turn the offer down. Violently. Part of him had even prepared for the possibility that Kita would be angry.

But they were not. Far from it.

How was it so easy for them to take him by surprise?

“Of course! Because Demons will never do anything without this weird give-me- your-soul-in-exchange-for-a-wish thing, huh?” Kita laughed.

Lucifer found himself staring at them again. “Not your soul – ”

“I know, I know.” Kita waived their hand, stopping him mid-sentence. A rare thing – how many times had they interrupted him in the five minutes since this conversation started? “I’m a treasured exchange student, my soul isn’t up for grabs, blah blah blah.”

Kita looked at him with a determined glint in their eyes now, and the warmth that Lucifer had turned away earlier came back with a vengeance and with no intention of going away.

“First though, if I do pass the test than that means I won’t be suffering any tortuous punishment.” Kita said. “And you have to treat me to Devildom’s best ice cream.”

“It’s a little too late to change the terms to our first agreement but, all right.” Lucifer agreed. “As for my terms –”

Kita interrupted him for the umpteenth time. “If I score lower than Mammon, I’ll treat you to ice cream.”

“How utterly dull.” He scoffed. “If you score lower than any of my brothers, you will have to treat me to something from the human world that I have not yet tasted.”

“What?!” They gasped. “That’s impossible!”

“I think it’s only fair. Since it is in my interest that you pass this test with flying colors, it is only common sense that I put in such parameters to this new agreement. Besides, I’m the one rendering service, shouldn’t I be the one who gets to say my price?”

“Well, yeah…” Kita chewed on her lip. “But hang on, does this mean your reward is to actually see me pass the test?”

“Do not misunderstand. I expect all of my efforts to bear nothing but the best fruit and as such your passing is but the natural course. However, in the unlikely event that you do fail, then my reward is the execution of your punishment and the pleasure of something novel from the human world.”

Kita slowly nodded. “I was expecting something else, really.”

Lucifer raised both brows, curious.

But Kita only shook their head. “But more importantly, do you seriously think I can top Satan’s score?”

“Of course.” Lucifer answered, taking the empty seat beside them. “I am the one tutoring you, am I not?”

Kita grinned widely at that. “You should not let Satan hear that.”

“I have all the confidence in my skills and all the faith in yours.”

“Whatever.” Kita’s hands went to their neck again. “But all right. Deal. I can practically taste my ice cream already.”

Lucifer took out his personal pen, flipped open the book to where Kita was last reading. “Now, I want you to look at these names and tell me what stands out to you the most.”

It was only when Lucifer was sure Kita was immersed again on their textbook did Lucifer allow himself the softest of smiles. Something that he knew he never believed he could do.

Lucifer did not count how many hours passed as he and Kita went over dates, places, names that were too familiar, too weird, and too closely spelled to be any different from all the others. He did not count how much snack they both consumed or how much coffee Kita managed to guzzle in-between bathroom breaks. Nor did Lucifer count how many times he had sensed his brothers peaking at them from the door, with him bracing himself for any interruption. But none of them entered – if only in their respect for Kita and what they wanted to accomplish.

But Lucifer did count the times Kita was close enough that their arms brushed against each other, and the times Kita would lean over to where he was point at the map and he could smell their perfume. Lucifer counted the times Kita smiled triumphantly at having recalled something faster, the times they rubbed their cheeks in frustration, and the times they laughed at his comments on about Devildom history.

He counted. And each one, he tucked inside that warmth spreading in him, making him feel a lot of things he would not bother counting or saying out loud.

35/182

#Obey Me #Obey Me! Lucifer #ythmir writes #ythmir fanfics #35/182 #182 #first obey me fanfic #and i hope i did my best boi some justice #i just want softness for him for my first fic

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sugamoonv · 5 years

Text

Eyes Off

Hi, can i requesting a Taehyung scenario? you Taehyung's girlfriend and a worldwide supermodel that is gonna walk in a Victoria Secret fashion show. Everyone is jealous because you look really sexy/hot and how will the other members react, especially Tae?

Parings: Model!Reader x Idol!Taehyung

Word Count: 1,812

Warnings: implied smut

A.N: As always, let me know what you think!

Sweat dripped down your face as your feet slowed to a stop. The bottom of your sneakers were warm from the treadmill. The sound of moving belts and the occasional clunk of weights filled the gym. You gave a quick glance to your co-workers next to you in the row of treadmills before stepping down and wiping your face with a small towel.

Your wrist vibrated as your phone received a call and sent it to your fit-bit via bluetooth and with a tap, you answered.

“Hello?” you spoke into your headphones.

“Are you at the gym?” your boyfriend, Taehyung’s voice fills your ears.

“That obvious, huh?” you panted out and Taehyung chuckled into the receiver. You sniffled and wiped your upper lip with the towel. “I’m just finishing though so I’ll be over soon for lunch.”

“Okay, good because I refuse to eat without you and everyone’s getting mad at me.”

You laugh out loud and gather your belongings from the public cubbies by the entrance. You wave goodbye to the other women as you exit the door.

You pull your shirt away from your shoulders. The damp spot from your freshly-washed hair made it stick to your skin. The rest of the shirt was baggy on you along with the sweatpants you borrowed from Taehyung and your socks that constantly slipped down to your ankles. It didn’t make sense to you to dress up if you were going to be changing later on for another run through.

You cover your mouth to laugh at something Jimin says before taking a sip of your water and reaching forward to your plate. Jungkook insisted on lettuce wraps so you had a napkin or your hand in front of your face each time you shoved a whole wrap in your mouth.

Taehyung leans against you and pats your stomach as you finish chewing your third wrap.

“Mmm, I can’t eat anymore.” You brush your hands on your pants. Jungkook leans forward and steals the last wrap from your plate with his chopsticks and pours sauce on top before pushing the whole thing in his mouth. None of you pay any mind to the way his cheeks puff out.

“Are you gonna’ be late tonight?”

Taehyung drowsily nods into your neck.

“What do you want for dinner then?”

“Bulgogi…..and noodles,” he kisses your neck.

“Alright. I have to go,” you stand up from your place at the table and lean down to peck Taehyung’s lips, “I’ll leave a take-out container in the fridge for when you’re done.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

“Love you too.” You give hugs to the rest of the boys and sling your bag over your shoulder before heading out of the restaurant.

Taehyung ignores the flashing cameras as he sits in the first row with his members. He pushes the thin, designer frames up his nose and glances at the people still filing in. He kept his face neutral at the presence of some major icons in the fashion industry and politely waved to the few people he recognized rather than excitedly sparking a conversation with them. He was here for you so he was going to make sure he kept the attention off of him and his members as much as possible.

In fact, part of him was annoyed that his members were here because he knew he himself would draw enough attention. But nearly the entirety of BTS?

Taehyung had had no say in the matter though. After finally being lucky and touring in the same city you had to fly out to for a fashion show, he asked to attend. And thinking of the publicity, BigHit had made Taehyung agree to take Namjoon, Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook. Yoongi had decided to stay back.

Taehyung was not only nervous for himself but for how you would react. Because not only was this the first fashion show he’s attended, it’s the first time he’ll be seeing you actually work. Sure, he’s heard you talk about your job and has seen you playfully model for him, but this was different. This wasn’t a half-naked picture of you on some advertisement in a magazine he hides from the others like some horny teenage boy. This wasn’t going to be like one of the rare nights you were both free and spent it ruining the lingerie he bought you or you were allowed to keep from previous shows or shoots. There were dozens of eyes on him tonight and hundreds were going to be on you and that made his heart beat a little faster.

At long last, when everyone’s finished taking their seats, the lights dim and the anticipation in Taehyung’s stomach heightens. A spotlight flickers on and points at the base of the runway where the designer walks out from behind a large panel. Flashes blind Taehyung’s peripheral vision but he remains apt on listening to the inspiration and meaning behind the woman’s collection. With a bow and a round of applause, the music sounds and the show begins.

The first model comes out fully dressed but as the show goes on, the models become more and more scantily clad until they’re fully on to the lingerie line of the collection. That is when you first make your appearance of the night. Your gaze is focused and face void of any emotion as you strut down the walkway in what has to be ten inch heels. Taehyung can see the muscles in your calves flexing to keep you stable as you walk.

Taehyung swallows heavily at the first piece you’re wearing and he’s not sure if this is some messed up version of heaven to be seeing you in your element yet not be able to put your hands on you. The duality of power and grace in the way you move has Taehyung admiring you and squirming in his seat. Not many realize the physical and mental labor it takes to succeed in your career, but watching you, Taehyung found that he was no longer upset for all the times you blew him off to work with your trainer.

“Tae, are you sure that was Y/N? Because I don’t remember her looking that sexy last time I saw her.” Hoseok leans forward in his seat to talk down the row to Taehyung.

Taehyung can only tear his eyes from the runway after you’ve retreated back behind the panel and once he does, he’s able to address Hoseok. Taehyung brings a hand up to his face and smirks while casting a smug side look to Hoseok. But he has to do a double take as he sees the shocked expressions on his members’ faces. Specifically Jungkook.

Taehyung forgot that before tonight, he’s been the only one to see you dressed the way you are. Namjoon keeps his face as calm as possible, something he’s able to do because of the strong platonic relationship between you two, along with Jin. Taehyung was sure that Jin’s ears were bright red simply from the surprise of seeing his “little sister” in only a bra, panties, and heels. Hoseok was giving Taehyung looks of approval, like a proud father to a son, which boosted his ego and made him protective of you at the same time. It was Jimin’s and Jungkook’s silence however that worried Taehyung.

And so Taehyung found himself gauging Jungkook’s and Jimin’s reactions rather than watching you. Though he could tell whenever you walked out because Jungkook’s eyes would get as wide as saucers and he would guiltily glance at Taehyung and shift in his seat. Jimin would squint as his eyes followed your form and Taehyung saw the way Jimin would tap his fingers before rubbing his thighs until you left.

Taehyung was fuming by the end of the show, causing him to almost miss the final look you were wearing. You appeared on the runway alone for the final time that night wearing the signature piece. It wasn’t the Fantasy Bra, but the gems on it sparkled in the stage lights and camera flashes and made your skin glow. The top and bottom were connected with an open, intricate pattern that barely covered your stomach. And the color of the piece contrasted beautifully with your skin tone and drew the eye to all of your best features.

Taehyung was sure he had actually died and gone to heaven when you came back out at the end of the line up, the designer to your left and a large smile on your face as you made eye contact with him.

Taehyung has to convince his member to leave without him and push past dozens of people before he spots you in the stuffy, open space backstage. The smell of hairspray, makeup, and burnt hair makes his nose twitch. He’s able to properly locate you when you scream his name after seeing the top of his head in the crowd of people. You launch yourself onto him in a full body hug once you’re close enough. You’ve changed into loose sweats and your hair is still is still styled in the complicated up-do.

“You never told me you were coming,” you exclaim into his neck. You hop down and tilt your head up to look at him. “I would have made sure to do better if I’d known you were coming.” Taehyung chuckles at the way you pout at him.

“You did amazing,” Taehyung leans down and kisses your lips, “I’m so proud of you.” You smile into the kiss and snake your arms around his waist.

“Where are the others though? I thought I saw them with you?” you knit your eyebrows.

“They got a head start back to the hotel.”

Disappointment flickers across your face but you nod and begin to make your way outside with Taehyung where your car is waiting for you. You give polite waves to the other models as you leave, ignoring the hard looks they give you and flirty smiles they give Taehyung.

The ride back is quiet and you nearly fall asleep on Taehyung’s shoulder a few times, but every time he wakes you up with a ‘Not yet, babe,” or ‘Don’t fall asleep’ and a small shake. It’s amazing you’re able to keep your eyes open with the gentle lull of the car and Taehyung’s body warmth, the rest of the drive.

You stay a few feet behind as Taehyung checks the both of you in. The lobby of the hotel is dead silent as most people are probably asleep at this hour. You silently walk alongside Taehyung until you get to your shared room. A squeak leaves your lips as Taehyung spins you against the closed door once you’re inside and traps you between his arms.

“I’m gonna’ make sure that everyone on this floor knows you belong to me.”

Tags: @slowlyandrogynouskyrptonite @detectivebourbon @omgsuperstarg @eshika0102

#taehyung #v #taehyung x reader #v x reader #jealous taehyung #model reader #model au #idol au #implied smut #taehyung x reader fluff #bts prompt #bts prompts

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officialleehadan · 5 years

Text

A Question of Faith

Brandon was glad when they crossed the border into Canada.

Their RV was a boat, but Blaec drove like everything smaller than him should simply get out of his way. It was funny in a way. At least Brandon thought so.

The dragon would also actually spit flames when someone cut him off. Brandon suspected that he was the cause of a sporty car blowing a tire. It seemed like the sort of thing Blaec would do.

Whenever Evalene wanted her seat in the cab, he went back to his maps and charts.

They were due to stop at one of the major Vampire holdings shortly, and the whole team was going in loaded for vampire. They were allies, it was true, but none of the mercenaries trusted them and Brandon had no reason to doubt his team.

“Sunlight, holy water, crossbow,” Thori said as he laid out the items on the table for Brandon. The half-dwarf was taking his job as armorer very seriously. “Don’t bother with a holy symbol. Three lighters, tuck one into your sock.”

Brandon followed the instructions. He had fought vampires before and Thori had checked him out on the bow the day before.

“Why no holy symbol?” he asked curiously. His department didn’t use them either and he never thought to ask why.

“It would not do you any good,” Xaenxa said. “You haven’t the faith in a god to make it work.”

“So not cross-specific?” he asked, tucking a handful of flares into his bag.

“Hephaestus’ symbol is a lightning-struck hammer,” Thori said, showing him what looked like a normal hammer. It bore etching of a lightning bolt on an anvil on both sides and seemed to hum. “Hela’s is a half-black half-white mask.”

“Faith is what matters? Not the symbol?” Brandon said, mostly to himself.

“Not faith,” Thori corrected. “The belief that your God will intercede if necessary. Hephaestus will. So will Hela.”

He nodded to Evalene who was pulling on a Kevlar vest. As soon as it was on, she ducked back into one of the bedrooms. Xaenxa already had a vest on and Thori and Brandon’s were waiting.

“Poseidon wouldn’t intercede for her.” He said. “Triton might well, but we would have to be closer to salt water for him to get involved.”

“But you’re not a priest either,” Brandon commented, pulling on his vest and adding a normal one on over it to keep it hidden. He and Thori were going in as the hired muscle they were.

“Every smith of His is a priest,” Thori corrected. “I’m not a cleric like Xaenxa, but I am of the Order, after a fashion. Enough to count.”

“If I had my way, me and Blaec would be the only two going in,” Rhys said as he came out of the other bedroom. For obvious reasons, neither he nor Blaec would be wearing Kevlar.

“Melaena specifically invited all of us by name,” Evalene called.

Brandon had overheard her having that very argument with Blaec the night before.

“If we don’t all show up, she might refuse to work with us, and we need her Coven to help if the Hoard gets unleashed. She rules the entire mid-east territory all the way to the northern ice.”

“She wants you there because if you’re there I can’t torch the mansion,” Rhys grumbled. “She’s hobbling me and Blaec with you four. It’s clever and it reeks of trouble.”

“We’re ready for trouble,” Xaenxa reassured him. She reached over and ran a hand delicately over his cheek. “I have my spells ready and waiting, Thori and Brandon will cover us, and Evalene’s songs will still work on a vampire. Besides, when has Melaena ever crossed Blaec?”

It was unexpectedly reassuring and Brandon tried not to be too confused by it. Seeing the murderous dark elf happily playing with children was mind-boggling enough. He was trying to simply stop expecting things out of her. He kept being wrong.

Rhys took the comfort as it was offered and bent to kiss her cheek.

“Thank you sweetheart,” he said softly. He added something soft in Russian that Brandon didn’t understand. He assumed it was fond. They were surprisingly affectionate with each other when Xaenxa wasn’t killing Rhys.

Whatever Rhys said, it seemed to please Xaenxa. She flashed him a smile.

It was a little astonishing to Brandon how many weapons Xaenxa managed to hide under the slinky gown she wore. It was tight and floating and silver-white. Brandon could only guess at what it was made of.

Somehow Xaenxa managed to fit her vest on under it. It didn’t show. Brandon thought it might be magic.

The only weapons she had visible were her favorite dagger, strapped to her thigh through the long slit in her dress, and a pair of delicate jeweled stilettos that tucked into her hair.

The pearls she always wore in her hair simply shifted around them. Brandon still hadn’t figured out that trick of hers. He didn’t think he wanted to know. More of the tiny gems draped around her throat and from her ears.

He had traded his usual clothes for a dressy black suit he wore for formal events. Thori’s was nearly identical. They didn’t look like much and they weren’t supposed to. Of the whole team they were the most vulnerable.

Rhys looked almost like them, except that he had added a bright red vest underneath.

When she reappeared, Evalene was draped in layers of blue and looked like she wore the ocean. The jewelry she wore looked simple until Branson realized that it was all carved of polished dragon scale.

Between her and Xaenxa, Brandon figured they could charm just about any man they wanted.

Blaec looked on. He had unbent enough to replace his leathers with a suit that was almost the same color as his scales. He looked frighteningly impressive. If Brandon was a vampire, he would think twice about tangling with the dragon.

“Is everyone ready?” Blaec asked. His eyes skimmed over them all and finally he cracked a smile. “Well, at least they won’t be able to snub you about your clothes. Well done.”

The comment was mostly directed at Thori and Rhys, but Brandon thought he was included as well. Xaenxa preened.

“Vampires make the Ailfar look like frat boys,” she said. “All that ridiculous pomp. I swear they get it when they’re human and it never goes away.”

“You like Lord Tepes,” Rhys said, coming up beside her.

“Vlad is old enough to be sensible.”

“He also throws a hell of a party.”

“That too.”

Brandon grinned. He had met the ancient vampire on a diplomatic trip a year or two back. The meeting had begun with Vlad summarily decapitating two of his minions who made to lunge at the humans.

Defiance would not be allowed.

Melaena Sheer was one of Vlad’s Children. She was also a known entity to Brandon’s Agency and extremely powerful. For the first time in days, Brandon felt ready for what they were up against. Vampires he knew how to handle.

Blaec had called ahead to a limo company so they would be arriving at the mansion in style, and all in one vehicle. Thori had suggested that it might be better if they did and after some thought Blaec agreed.

It was rare but vampires did sometimes work with necromancers. If that was the case, any vehicle they arrived in would not be safe to drive by the time they were ready to leave.

The limo would drop them off, and return when Blaec called for it.

Far more reliable than letting the Coven provide a car or trusting them to leave the RV unmolested.

When they were ready to go, they all filed out and Blaec stopped for a minute. When Brandon turned to see what the dragon was doing, he was amazed to see a firetruck were their RV was a moment before.

“No one messes with a parked firetruck,” Rhys explained. He eyed the illusion and nodded to Blaec. “Anyone asks about it, a polite officer will walk around the corner and give them some reason why it’s important that this truck stays right where it is.”

“And it will also keep anyone who’s looking for us from tampering with the RV.” Brandon finished. It was a good trick. Now he knew why Blaec had insisted on parking them in the lot of a public park.

A moment later a sleek black limo pulled up and the driver moved to hold the door for them.

Xaenxa smiled wickedly at the man and Brandon saw him blush deeply. It was surprising to him that he didn’t seem to react like that to her anymore. Maybe he was just getting used to her.

The oddness of that thought carried him all the way through the ride to the heavily-secured mansion where the vampire coven waited.

+++

HGE - Mismatched

What do you get when you put a dragon, his mermaid, a dark elf, a half-dwarf, and a firebird into a zombie apocalypse?

A very frustrated human, who really isn’t sure how he ended up in this situation to begin with.

Death Valley Sand

The Regency

Red Scales and Golden Hair

En Route

Silver-White Knife

A Question of Faith

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patton-croc-agenda · 6 years

Text

Dancing’s Not a Crime

A/N: I was in the mood for some royality, and kind of wanted to make up for Patt not being in chapter 2 (or 3 spoilers) of Coral and Crowns jglhdsfjslsd. So here, take this! I managed this in an hour and a half by writing nonstop

Song: Dancing’s Not a Crime by P!ATD

Summary: Patton may be having a bad day, but when Roman asks him to try a fusion dance with him to see if it could really be done, well, Patton can’t say no.

Pairings: Royality

Words: 2,448

Warnings: There’s like 1 scene of characters making out and also a few suggestive jokes/comments but other than that you should be good!

Patton was laying stomach first on his bed, watching cat videos with his hoodie pulled up over his face. He called this his “broodie hoodie” look, because he was brooding in a hoodie!

Either way, Patton had a sad day, and he was trying to cheer himself up, because Patton didn’t wanna bother the others with his sad day, especially when it was small enough to fix himself. Sadness did not constitute making others sad, darnit!

There was a knock on his door, and Patton sat up and looked over curiously, wondering if someone needed their good ol’ Pappy Patton to lift their spirits or offer some fatherly advice. He pasted on a half genuine smile (the genuinity would probably increase when he saw whoever it was at his door) and called out, “Come in!”

The door flew open, and Roman twirled in dramatically, kicking it shut and flopping down next to Patton on the bed dramatically, holding an arm up to his forehead in obvious woe. Patton giggled, smile genuinity up to 56%! Roman looked up at him and fluttered his lashes (at which Patton tried not to blush).

“What can I do for you, Ro?” Patton asked, immediately burying his hands into Roman’s hair. Roman very obviously enjoyed physical contact, and Patton wasn’t one to complain when he got to run his hands through his soft, shiny hair. Roman nearly purred, and Patton tried to hide his endeared squeal as a cough.

“I,” he drew out the I dramatically, “had the bestest idea, and only you would suffice to trying it out,” Roman said. Patton tilted his head curiously, hands still combing gently through Roman’s hair.

“What idea would that be, My Prince?” Patton asked. He wondered if he imagined Roman’s pupils getting a bit wider at that nickname, but quickly brushed the thought aside as Roman gently took Patton’s wrists, hands still buried deep in in Roman’s hair. He looked at Patton and grinned, a hint of nervousness to it, but still perfectly charming. Patton’s own smile genuinity was up to 64%.

“Wellllll you seeeee,” Roman was dragging his words again, this time in almost a teasing way, “I may have re-bingewatched some Steven Universe, and I realized that since we are figments of Thomas’s personality, and therefore imaginary, I was wondering if we would be able to fuse like gems if we danced.” Patton blinked rapidly, thoughts twirling. He had a million questions. Was that possible? How would that work exactly? Would they have to look like gems? But most importantly…

“Why me?” Patton asked softly. Roman looked at him, his gaze soft in a way that made Patton’s heart flip-flop in his chest. Smile genuinity up to 72%.

“Well, I know Virge would be far too worried about what could go wrong, so he wouldn’t be relaxed and focused on dancing, and Logan would probably just call the idea stupid. Besides, even if it doesn’t work- I’ll get to dance with you,” Roman winked as he finished speaking. Patton couldn’t help his flush. Was that flirting? Did that count as flirting? Was Roman flirting with him?

“We don’t have to, though, if you are not comfortable,” Roman said, voice a bit sad around the edges. Patton immediately shook his head before realizing that was confusing and verbally stating (read: shouting)

“I’d love to dance with you! Or, try and fuse, whatever,” he babbled, pulling his hands back. Roman growled suddenly and pulled Patton’s hands back, burying them in his hair again. Patton tried to keep his cheeks from burning anymore but That Sure Was A Sound.

“Excellent. Just...keep doing that a little longer before we start,” Roman rushed the sentence out, as if embarrassed. Patton titered a bit, but kept up the soothing motions. He felt like his heart was pounding against his ribcage. It really did seem like Roman was flirting with him, but he wished he could be sure…

~~~

“Okay, so, don’t judge me, but this is a song Virgil gave me. I can’t help it though! Might be edgy, but it’s still a total bop!” Roman said, plugging his phone into a speaker and tapping a bit. Roman had soundproofed the room with a flick of his hand (Patton may or may not have tucked the information that Roman could do such a thing in the darkest corner of his mind) so Virgil and Logan wouldn’t hear the music blasting as they danced.

Patton’s feet swung as he sat on his bed, waiting. At one point, he no longer felt it was appropriate for being broodie in his hoodie, so he began to pull it off and tie it around his shoulders. The light tapping of Roman messing with his phone stopped, and Patton paused in his tying to look and make sure he was okay. Roman’s cheeks were pink and he was looking at Patton with an odd expression Patton didn’t recognize. He gave Roman a grin (semi-worried: genuinity 70%).

“Something wrong, My Prince?” Patton asked. Roman coughed and looked away.

“No, no! Nothing, Dearheart,” Roman said, voice smooth, and if that didn’t send flutters through Patton’s stomach.

“Alright I think we’re good to go,” Roman hit play, and a song Patton didn’t recognize began to play.

I'm a moon-walker

I'm like MJ up in the clouds

I know it sounds awkward

I'm filthy as charged, filthy as charged

Roman grabbed Patton by the hand and yanked him to his feet, mouthing along to the next words.

You're a sweet talker

But darlin' whatcha gonna say now?

The midnight marauders

The higher never come down, never come down

Patton giggled as Roman waggled his eyebrows along with the words. Roman took his other hand and began tapping his foot to the beat, Patton mimicked him.

The beat suddenly changed, and Patton felt Roman pull his left arm forward as he bounced forward on his left foot.

Dancing, dancing, dancing's not a crime

Each time the word “dancing” was sung, Roman would bounce from his left foot in front, to his right foot in back, pulling Patton’s arms as he did so. Left, right, left.

Unless you do it without me

Roman twirled Patton out, then twirled him back in. Patton felt slightly out of breath, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the dancing or because of how beautiful Roman looked.

Patton moved in tandem with Roman this time, right foot forward, left foot back.

Dancing, dancing, dancing's not a crime

Unless you do it, do it

Do it, do it, do it without me

Without me

Roman didn’t twirl Patton this time, instead letting go to shimmy a little in a way that made Patton laugh. Smile genuinity up to 80%

The two kept up their pattern whenever the chorus popped up- with Roman dramatically dancing around Patton whenever it wasn’t playing. Patton laughed and threw in his own (slightly terrible) dances.

Eventually, the song ended. The two clasped hands, breathing hard.

“Oh no! We didn’t fuse,” Patton fretted. Roman shrugged and threw another wink.

“Ah, you just tear all other thoughts from my mind, My Heart,” okay that had to be flirting, “but fret not, I will simply replay the song. We have the dance moves down now, so we should be able to focus on the idea of fusing.” Roman snapped his fingers and the song began again.

As the chorus began this time, Roman threw mouthing along right out the window and simply began to sing.

“Dancing, dancing, dancing's not a crime. Unless you do it without me. Unless you do it without me!” he sang. Patton grinned and beat Roman to the punch.

“Dancing-” he sang, glad Roman caught on

“-Dancing-”

“Dancing’s not a crime!”

“Unless you do it-”

“-do it-”

“-do it do it do it,” Roman pulled Patton close, chest to chest.

“Without me!” Patton pulled back, deciding to dare a playful wink, and oh, the fire in Roman’s eyes was not an unwelcome reaction.

They pulled apart as the chorus ended. Roman danced much closer to Patton this time, leaning in, hands brushing again Patton’s arms, and- at one point- his lower back. Patton simply smirked, though his blush was certainly giving him away.

The chorus began again, and when it came to spin, Patton decided to catch Roman off guard and be the one to twirl him. Roman managed to get through the twirl, but stumbled when Patton pulled him back, causing him to knock right into Patton, who wrapped his arms around Roman’s neck in alarm.

Roman caught himself- and Patton- last second, successfully dipping the man. The music faded into the background as the two looked into each others’ eyes. Chest to chest, foreheads together, noses brushing.

They blinked in time with each other, their heartbeats syncing, their breaths mixing. Patton felt warm all over, warm, warm, warm.

Two heartbeats beating in time with the pulse of the song.

One heartbeat beating along to the rhythm.

Two breaths mixing.

One breath, inhale. Exhale.

He stood there for a moment, feeling a bit lightheaded, but oh so full of love, love, love! He wasn’t sure who he was exactly, but he was so, so happy. He smiled, and it was 100% genuine.

Then, their thoughts clashed suddenly, mostly in surprise and delight. One became two once more, and Roman and Patton fell apart. The song finished and they simply lay on their backs, staring up at the ceiling of Patton’s bedroom.

“Oh...my… GOODNESS WE FUSED!” Patton sat bolt upright, lifting his arms above his head in triumph. “I mean, it was only for like, five seconds, but it was so cool!” Roman had a hand on his forehead, looking slightly shocked.

“I… I didn’t actually expect it to work!” Roman said, tone fill of disbelief. Patton frowned the tiniest bit, scooting his way over to Roman and, without really thinking, laying over top of him. Roman sucked in a tiny breath.

“What?!” It was Patton’s turn to be shocked, “Roman, this was your idea!” Roman looked to the side sheepishly.

“I… may have just been looking for an excuse to flirt with you,” Roman said, avoiding all eye contact. Patton’s stomach lurched, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“So you were flirting with me,” he said, more to himself than Roman. Roman looked at Patton, a bit exasperated.

“Patton, I’ve been flirting with you for the past three months.”

“Oh.” Roman burst into laughter, eyes closed in delight, hair sticking up in all directions from Patton playing with it earlier and from the sweat caused by dancing. Patton realized that since Roman had been flirting with him, he must like him. And Patton liked Roman, so that meant…

Patton ran his hands into Roman’s hair, and gently closed his fists. Roman’s eyes flew open and he met Patton’s gaze. Slowly, Patton gave Roman’s hair a light tug, urging him up. Roman complied, and Patton slowly leaned forward on his chest. He could feel the rapid beating of one of their hearts from where their chests were pressed together, but he wasn’t sure whose it was. He wondered if they could accidently fuse again while kissing. He guessed he’d find out.

Their lips were a sliver apart, and Patton kept his gaze on Roman’s, waiting for him to pull away, to say no. He didn’t, so Patton lightly connected their lips. It was soft, chaste, and Patton pulled away, keeping his hands in Roman’s hair. Roman stared for a moment, and Patton felt the fluttering worry in his gut.

Suddenly, there were legs around his waist, and Patton felt the world go topsy turvy as he was suddenly on his back. Roman was hovering over him, pressing their lips together again, much more urgently then Patton had. Patton whimpered and yanked slightly on Roman’s hair. Roman pulled back and growled, much like he had earlier, and Patton smirked a bit. Roman scowled, but there was a playful spark in his gaze.Then they were kissing again, long and desperate, but somehow still so, so sweet.

They finally parted, Roman gasping as he laid his head against Patton’s chest. Patton stopped tugging and went back to carding his hands through Roman’s hair. They didn’t say anything for a moment.

“So, did you wanna try fusing again, now that that’s out of the way?” Patton murmured. Roman let out a happy little sigh.

“Yes, but later. Right now, I just wanna cuddle my new boyfriend, and kiss him, and maybe take a nap.” Patton giggled and playfully wiggled his eyebrows.

“Man, sounds like a lucky boyfriend you got there,” he teased. Roman chuckled, and it vibrated through Patton’s entire body.

“I’d say I’m the lucky one,” Roman murmured next to Patton’s ear, kissing his jaw lightly. Patton giggled again, sure his face was pink.

Roman stood, helping Patton to his feet. A second later, though, Patton was off his feet again, and in Roman’s arms. With a flick of his wrist, the door opened, and Roman sauntered out.

“Where are we going?” Patton asked.

“My bed is bigger, more room for cuddles...among other things,” Roman winked and Patton’s cheeks went from pink to scarlet.

Roman laid him gently on his bed which was- true to his word- much larger than Patton’s, before he crawled next to him, pulling Patton’s back to his chest and wrapping his arms around his middle. He began to little kisses along the back and side of his neck, causing Patton made a happy sound in the back of his throat.

“You know, I was pretty sad earlier today,” the words slipped out before Patton could stop them, and Roman halted his kisses for a moment.

“You were?” he sounded genuinely concerned, but placed another sweet kiss to Patton’s jaw. Patton hummed in confirmation, squirming in Roman’s arms until he was released enough to turn to face his boyfriend (that word gave him goosebumps in all the best ways).

“I was, but you made it better,” Patton whispered, like it was a secret. Roman’s eyes fluttered a bit, looking as if Patton had told him he was the most stunning person he’d ever laid eyes on (which was also true).

“Well I- I hope I can continue to make your bad days good ones, regardless of whether I do so intentionally or not,” Roman said it like a promise. A word he’d honor to his dying day. Patton didn’t doubt it.

“I know you will,” Patton said, and he kissed him on the lips, sweet, and gentle; oh so grateful and full of love, love, love.

General Writing Taglist: @angeliclogan @pattons-constellations@amuthefunperson@tatergator27@honeycoloredcorduroy@1esor2 @that-royal-ravenclaw@sardonicsanders@iridescentroyalty@sheeparecutest @pathos-logical @virge-of-a-breakdown@doodlesxkiwi@hungry-red-panda @peachy-patton

Royality Royalty: @notveryglittery

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fic #ss #ts #royality #roman sanders #patton sanders #ts royality #Jack writes

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triggeringthehealing · 6 years

Text

Mischief, Magic, and Mates

Derek/Stiles, 7k, G, AO3

Summary: Stiles has always been curious about everything he encountered, always on the search for answers about how things worked and why they worked the way they did. The mating runs which take place in Beacon Hills every spring are no exception, but it took some time before he figured out that there's magic involved.

He doesn't want to find a mate for himself, not after he saw what the loss of one does to a person. He just wants to know how it all works.

Sometimes, when you take things apart and put them back together, some pieces are left behind.

A/N: This is. my story for the @sterekreversebang 2018, inspired by the awesome art from the lovely @classy2shoes :D (check it out HERE)

-=-=-=-=-

The mating runs take place every year, on the eve of spring. Each time, volunteers old enough for starting a settled relationship sign up for the run in the hopes of finding their perfect partner.

Most of the pairs — and sometimes triads — which were matched during a run have proven to be stable and compatible, not only due to the effort that they put into finding each other in the woods but also due to scent markers that led them together.

Not everyone believed in the power of the mating runs. And some of those who did believe did think that there was something unnatural about the matches, something that defied free will. So a lot of eligible single people simply did not volunteer and some regarded those who did sign up with sneers of superiority.

Then there were those who just found it amusing.

Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinski is one of those people. He’s been watching the mating runs ever since he was aware of them happening. At first, finding his perfect mate was the dream, the ideal. But with time and because of circumstances beyond his control, he lost faith in the forces that helped make the matches.

As he grew older, he found that there was no science behind it, that it wasn’t chance. He knows the matches are really special because there is magic making them so. He knows because he is magic.

The spark didn’t manifest until he was sixteen, five years after he lost his Mom to a tragic illness — one that he attributed to magic once he found out he got it from her — and a few years after his father had been elected Sheriff of Beacon Hills. Stiles’s parents were a Match made during a mating run, something Stiles’s father likes to point out whenever Stiles goes on a rant about free will and forced happiness.

“Yeah, and look how that ended up,” Stiles always mutters to himself these days.

He used to say it out loud, but he learned that upsetting his father wasn’t in anyone’s best interest. Not if Stiles wants to keep him out of the whiskey barrels and living a long and healthy life.

That is part of why Stiles is not a fan of the mating runs. Why he doesn’t want to run. Why he doesn’t want to find his mate.

Because what is the point of finding them if they’re just going to die anyway? Or if he dies young? He wouldn’t want to make anyone suffer the way his father did, not if he can prevent it.

For years he kept his distance from the runs and never bothered signing up at all. He watched his best friend find his mates, saw his crush walk out of the forest after a mating run, hand in hand with his worst enemy at the time.

That one was the breaking point for Stiles. Because if someone can find a new mate after they've lost their first one, then is the magic around it as strong as everyone says at all? Does it matter whether one finds their partner during the run or at a completely different time?

For Stiles, the answer was a strong "no". He wasn't going to volunteer for the run, wasn't going to take it seriously. He would stay as far away as possible and ignore everyone who would try and convince him otherwise. He also decided to learn as much as he possibly could about the magic that was involved in the runs and in helping the connections along.

"Ah, so you've finally chosen to get your proper training after all," Deaton, the local druid stated when Stiles walked into his office — at a veterinary hospital, of all places — and asked about the mating runs' magic.

"Not really," Stiles said, shrugging a shoulder. "I just want to know about the mating magic."

"Ah, I see."

Deaton turned to a stack of papers on his desk and remained silent.

"So, can you help me?" Stiles asked after a while when the silence lingered longer than he could handle.

"I could," Deaton said, not looking up. "But it's quite advanced, and without you understanding the core of your own Spark, I don't believe you could grasp the intricacies of anything more complicated."

"I could look it up on the internet," Stiles told him.

"And you'd find misinformation, rumors, and potentially answers that might lead you down a dangerous path," Deaton said. "Though I think the latter would be intriguing rather than a deterrent to you."

"Glad we understand each other," Stiles told him.

"We very much don't," Deaton said, finally pausing what he was working on. "I can help you learn about the mating run magic. I will do so on the condition that you go through the full training to develop your Spark to what I believe can be a full strength of a Mage."

Stiles thought about it. As much as he didn't want to dive into the world of magic, especially with Deaton — he had a habit of not answering questions clearly — it was a better option than trying to find the information alone. The internet was a good place to start, but having someone to parse through what he found and tell him what's true and what's fiction would be nice.

"Fine," Stiles said eventually, to Deaton's obvious satisfaction.

-=-=-=-=-

He's three years into his training when he wanders into the woods where the mating runs take place for the first time. It's on the eve of Christmas and it's really only to escape everyone else. Scott's family is starting to grow, Allison expecting her first child and both Scott and Isaac are in protective fathers-to-be mode that Stiles can't deal with.

His usual hiding place — his own home — is not available because his dad and Melissa are preparing for their wedding. Not that Stiles minds, it's something he's been looking forward to. But it does cut into his alone time which he has gotten used to over the years when his father was raising him alone on a schedule that was far from steady and predictable.

So he ends up in the woods. The Beacon Hills Preserve. The piece of forest that is empty of all civilization and of any houses or even well-maintained trails. The space that only ever gets used one time each year, for the mating run that tends to take over the town every April.

Thinking about the timing of the run as he walks through the growth beneath the tall and slightly menacing-looking trees, Stiles wonders if the month of the run contributed to his dislike of the whole ceremony and event. Because that's his birthday month, and while he didn't see any difference while his mom was still alive, he certainly did after. As a law enforcement officer — even before he was elected Sheriff — Stiles's father was almost always involved in the organization, leaving Stiles to celebrate his birthday weeks after the actual day.

It's that first walk through the Preserve that gives him the idea.

Unlike any of the other years, Stiles keeps track of the preparations for the mating run, notes the deadlines for volunteering and continues his Mage training.

"Seriously?" Scott asks him when Stiles mentions that he might run in the upcoming one.

"I didn't say I was going to put in an effort," Stiles says. "But hey, I might try."

Scott looks at him with suspicion, but then gets pulled away by an Allison-related emergency, much to Stiles's relief. That doesn't last long though, and Scott eventually does get around to asking whether Stiles is planning on interfering with the run and ruining the potential of people who will participate to find their mates.

"I wouldn't," Stiles protests weakly.

Because the moment Scott mentioned it, Stiles's mind immediately jumped to ways that the magic involved could be bent in and out of the shape that it's meant to be. But while Stiles is mischievous, he's not actively interested in ruining anyone's life. Unless they deserve it.

He’s not going to go in and destroy someone else’s dream. But he’s already considering how he can mess with anyone who would be looking for a mate and consider chasing after him. There are things in the books that Deaton has deemed suitable for Stiles to read that discuss the various ways that Mages were able to, in the past, modify their own scent markers and bend the mating magic to do what they wanted. Of course, most of them were doing it to make sure that the person they've chosen without the adjustments and influence on the magic would be the one they ended up with after the run. Stiles's aim is different.

More and more, he finds himself walking into the forest and exploring its nooks and crannies, snooping around all the areas that the run normally covers. It's not a small area, so it takes him several months of visits there before he's almost certain that he's got it all figured out. Then he sets off on a mission to develop a spell that will do what he needs it to.

"Mr. Stilinski, this is not the work I've asked you to do," Deaton says when he finds Stiles at a table filled with jewelry-making tools one day, several months before the next run.

"The potion is over there," Stiles says, waving his hand at a table nearby, never looking up from what he's working on.

"You're making an amulet, I see," Deaton comments when he walks closer to look at what Stiles is doing. "That's quite a smart move. It should enhance your spells."

Stiles nods because that was his aim and reason for choosing to fiddle with silver and gems, trying to mold the silver into the shape he needs.

"I'd suggest adding a dash of this," Deaton says and hands Stiles a vial of clear liquid. "It's a variant of mountain ash and has proven to have various magic-enhancing qualities."

"It's not going to like, make me into a magical lightning rod, is it?" Stiles asks, looking at the vial with suspicion.

"Not quite. That would require a Nemeton."

"I thought you said there was one of those in the Preserve," Stiles tells him, attention now completely off the jewelry piece he's been working on.

"There is. It is, however, dormant."

"Is that... good?"

"At the moment, yes," Deaton says, turning to the potion Stiles has made earlier. "This is rather good," he tells Stiles when he smells the potion.

"But it could do with some improvement?"

"Of course," Deaton says.

Then he walks out and leaves Stiles to his ministrations with the silver that's not behaving the way Stiles would want it to.

Several weeks later, Stiles has managed to finish the earring, molded it the way it needed to be, the topaz surrounded by a silver circle fitting nicely, resting right on his earlobe when he puts it on. He can't see it unless he's looking in the mirror, which he figures is just as well because the way it reflects light would be distracting otherwise.

He wanders into the woods again after that, this time with the earring helping his focus. The first few spells he casts are testing ones — simple things to make the greenery grow, one or two to heal some trees that have been attacked by rot or insects. It's not until he tries to cast one that he needs to practice for the mating run that something starts feeling off. He's not sure whether it's because of the spell or if something has changed in the forest, but the woods feel different.

"Are you sure?" Scott asks when Stiles tells him about the weird feeling of being watched that he had on one of his trips into the Preserve. "Maybe Deaton knows what he's up to and he's following you to make sure you don't hurt someone. Or something. Or yourself."

"I feel the love, Scotty," Stiles grumbles. "But no, it doesn't feel like when he's watching me."

"It's a little unsettling that you know how that feels," Scott says.

"For all that I wouldn't trust him with my life, he returns the sentiment right back," Stiles says, a smirk playing on his lips. "I've come to know how it feels when he's trying to be particularly sneaky about it."

"To be fair, you do go behind his back a lot with the things you do," Scott points out.

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

"But hey, if there's something in the forest and you're sure that it's not Deaton, maybe you should mention it to him?" Scott looks at Stiles, who's already shaking his head. "Just a thought."

"Then I'd have to tell him just how many times I've been there without telling anyone."

Scott gives him a look that's so pointed that Stiles almost considers going to Deaton with his minor concern. But in the end, he decides that it's not a big deal and that it's probably his imagination running a little wilder than usual.

For a few weeks after that, his attention is taken up by winter holidays and everything that surrounded the chaos that usually came with not only Christmas but also New Year celebrations. He doesn't have any chances to sneak out into the forest, but there's an unease that follows him around. Like he should be in the Preserve, should look for something. Or maybe someone. The feeling hits him extra hard on Christmas Day, but he's so tied up with his family and with studies for Deaton that he doesn't get out of the house at all.

The next thing he knows, it's January and the mating run is only two months away. Stiles isn't sure if he knows everything he needs to, debates whether he should put off volunteering for the run for another year. But then Scott mentions off-handedly that no one they know or are close with is running this year. And that's what convinces Stiles that it's the best time to test his theories and the magic he's managed to learn.

Not that he tells anyone that he's going to run until the night before he absolutely has to.

"You're doing what?"

The way that Scott, John, and Melissa all ask at the exact same time is almost eerie. Allison and Isaac are watching from across the room, Allison with a curious frown, Isaac with an amused smile like he knows that Stiles is up to something he shouldn't be up to. Which, to be fair, is Stiles's usual mode anyway, so it's a good guess on Isaac's part.

They're all gathered for dinner the night before the mating run as every year since John will leave before everyone else in the morning to set up at the Preserve, assuming his duties as Sheriff for at least some portion of the run's duration. Because those duties always keep him away from home for at least a few days, depending on how long the run carries on — the record is a full month — Melissa came up with the idea of a family dinner the night before.

Stiles probably could have timed his decision to announce that he's running this year just a little bit better.

"I've decided to give it a try," he says, shrugging like it's not a big deal.

John narrows his eyes at Stiles with suspicion, like he's in half a mind to tell Stiles he can't. Which would be pointless, because Stiles is an adult and he submitted his volunteer paperwork on time.

Fortunately for Stiles, that’s the moment when the oven announces that dinner is ready to be served. He rushes out of the dining room and into the kitchen under the guise of helping out Melissa with the food. It’s avoidance, but he’s not up for questioning and interrogation from his dad, not when John has years of training at it professionally and knows Stiles’s weak spots like the back of his hand.

What he’s not counting on is Melissa.

“Stiles, kiddo,” she starts right as he has his hands full with a tray of steaming chicken casserole and can’t just drop it and run. “Are you sure about this?”

She’s gentle, concerned, and for a second Stiles wonders if this is how his mom would’ve been before his first mating run. To Melissa, he just nods.

“You were so against it,” she continues while they putter around the kitchen and gather all the dishes on the counter. “What made you change your mind?”

It’s not a question that feels as intrusive or accusatory as his dad’s would’ve been, so it catches Stiles off-guard and he blurts the first answer that comes to his mind.

“The magic, actually. I always knew it was involved, obviously, but then I studied so much about it that it made me curious.”

“Ah.”

Melissa doesn’t say anything else. She finishes the salad she’s been making and then grabs the bowl and heads for the dining room. Before she walks through the door, still out of earshot of Scott and John, she turns around and looks at Stiles. Her face is filled with a mix of fondness and worry that Stiles tends to refer to as The Parent Face. It tends to come with a hint of exasperation from both Melissa and John.

“Be careful out there, kid, okay?”

Stiles nods and she walks into the dining room. There are immediate sounds of protest about the salad that Melissa is carrying, which makes Stiles chuckle. He grabs the casserole dish and follows her, laughing at the sigh of relief from both John and Scott when they see that they’ll get more to eat than veggies.

Luckily for him, no one at the table returns to the conversation of the run again. At least not until after, when Scott, Ally, and Isaac have left the house and Melissa heads out to her shift at the hospital. That's when John pulls Stiles into the kitchen under the guise of doing the dishes. At first, that's what they do, but Stiles knows that the peace and quiet won't last for too long. So it's not a surprise when John looks at him with curiosity and concern as they are finishing up putting everything away.

"Are you sure, son?" John's frown doesn't disappear as he faces Stiles, the question quiet and there's worry in his voice.

"I am," Stiles says, realizing that it's the truth.

His reasons may be suspect, but he does want to do this. He spent so much time studying all the magic behind the mate bonds, so much time trying to figure out what it was that pulled those who were more compatible towards each other. And yet he doesn't know why or how it is happening, what specific type of magic is at play. Going into the forest during the mating run seems like the best way to figure it all out, to get the answers he craves.

He's not — not that he's going to tell that to his father, whose eyes are bright with hope — expecting to find someone for himself during the run. If anything, he's planning on actively avoiding anyone who'd show genuine signs of interest in him. Despite having learned some of how the magic works, he's still not willing to risk hurting anyone the way he'd seen people hurt in the past. The same way, he's not willing to throw himself into something that might end up hurting him in the end.

"Just please don't do something stupid in there, okay?" John asks gently, putting his hand on Stiles's shoulder. "I don't know if it's a mate you're looking for, or if it's just knowledge, but please be careful."

"I will, Dad," Stiles says with all the sincerity he can muster.

John sighs, but he doesn't pry anymore. Stiles realizes that his dad has more than just an inkling that Stiles's motives aren't the same as every other volunteer's. Why he doesn't question those motives further and why he lets it go like he doesn't suspect Stiles of having plans that are going to disrupt the run, Stiles doesn't know and he doesn't ask.

After all, he doesn't plan to ruin anyone's chances of finding a mate other than his own. And that doesn't matter since he hasn't wanted that chance in a long time.

John leaves him alone after a short while and Stiles heads out into the garage apartment he's living in while he finishes his training with Deaton. There, he goes through the spells and mini-rituals he'll need to perform in the morning and he looks through the notes he took in preparation for the run one last time.

He doesn't sleep well, the anticipation of the run — even when he's not taking its traditional reasons seriously — makes him wake up way too early after several false starts at falling asleep in the first place. Stiles is glad though because he gets to perform his rituals at dawn, with the sun rising as he chants the words to enhance his focus, to dampen his natural scent, to boost his agility. The last one, in particular, he only added as an afterthought, but he's now — as he trips on the corner of his bed — glad he did.

When he finally gets to the kitchen in the main house, Melissa and John are long gone. Stiles makes himself a sandwich and sips his coffee in peace, but his mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and questions as he muses over his plans for the day. Being in his mind this way always brings up thoughts he's not expecting and today is no different. While he's thinking about the forest and recalling the paths he discovered when he was out there to explore, he's struck with the memory of the one time when it felt like he wasn't alone in the woods. The time when his senses were on alert as if he was being followed.

Stiles wonders for a moment if he should've asked Deaton about it, but then his reminder for the run's start goes off. He scrambles to get out of the house and doesn't think about it anymore.

"Mr. Stilinski," Deaton says when Stiles tumbles out of his Jeep at the edge of the Preserve. "You're unexpectedly early."

"It happens," Stiles quips, but he knows it doesn't happen a lot.

Deaton looks at him with a mix of suspicion and amusement. "I was surprised to see your name on the list."

"Well, I figured that since I'm studying the magic of the run," Stiles explains, trying to sound nonchalant, "I might as well experience it in its full glory."

He only gets a hum in response. One that — even after the years working with Deaton — he can't translate into a regular language to determine if it's approval, suspicion, or disappointment. But Stiles isn't relying on anyone's approval of his plan, he knows that he's doing this, that he's walking into that forest and finding out how it all works.

"Perhaps," Deaton says after a while, as the cars with other participants of the run begin pulling up into the clearing they're in, "it will stop scaring you as much as it does once you understand it."

Stiles opens his mouth, then closes it quickly again because they're not alone anymore and he's not up for debating this with an audience present. Instead, he watches as the others gather around Deaton. He spots his dad's cruiser as more cars pull up, but he only nods in John's direction subtly, not wanting to disclose his relationship with him. Some of the people who are here to run do know Stiles, but there are a few outsiders, people who obviously came from other towns in the county, unfamiliar faces whom Stiles never saw before.

The ones who are local seem to be already paired up. Stiles observes everyone and notices the subtle gestures that give it away — the looks, the aborted movements as they try to not overtly touch each other. For them, the run is a confirmation of what they already know. For the others, it's a search. Stiles, knowing that he's about to make this run different than any of the others, is glad that no one from Beacon Hills is on a genuine mission to find their mate. Especially that no one close to him, no one he knows well, is here.

Then Deaton speaks up, recites the guidelines — no violence, no interfering with others, no traps, no magic — and then they're all off, some walking, others jogging past the arch bearing the sign of The Beacon Hills Preserve.

Stiles doesn't rush. He lets everyone else head in while he strolls leisurely up the main path. Only a few dozen steps into the woods, he turns off into what looks like bushes but has a small path behind it. He's at an advantage a little, knowing the woods the way he does. The spells he cast and the rituals he performed aren't there to confuse the scents or to enhance them, but they allow him to move around the forest quieter and to hear and sense the others better.

It doesn't mean he's completely quiet though. No magic has yet been discovered that would entirely counteract his natural clumsiness, especially when confronted with the uneven surface of the forest ground. But he's not as noisy as he tends to be on any other day.

Still feels weird, he thinks as he advances through the trees, heading for what he knows is a thicker part of the woods, one that will give him more cover and a better view once he climbs up.

The thought comes to him when the feeling of being watched returns, like that one time that he mentioned to Scott. He knows that it's none of the other people participating in the run — they've all gone in a different direction — nor is it Deaton of John supervising the run. All those are louder, Stiles knows he would hear their steps and possibly even their breathing the further up the hill he goes. This is different.

He tries to shake that feeling off as he nears the trees he scouted out before, the one he chose as his vantage point. After all, his main aim for this run is to observe. His earring seems to be buzzing with the combination of its own magic, the spells Stiles cast that morning, and the forest's innate power. Once he's up in the tree, settled in on a thick branch, Stiles mutters the final incantation under his breath, the one that allows his mind to reach out through the trees and the growth to the people around the woods.

It's strange to feel the bonds forming. it's like they were already there, but the forest's power flows into them and makes them stronger. Like it's adding strands to a rope that was always there, twisting it and pulling it tighter until it's strong. He feels a jolt every time a pair — and one triad that makes Stiles think of Scott, Isaac, and Allison — touch hands and the bond between them locks into place.

He can feel the pull of strings that the people at each end didn't know about. Then the jolt again when the people meet in the forest for the first time. He can sense the joy, the curiosity, the content in the matches who walked into the forest with their mates, the satisfaction of those who didn't but found someone in there.

Then something happens that he didn't anticipate. The remaining participant of the run — the ones with bonds extending outside of the forest and thus not likely to meet someone today — veer towards where Stiles is sitting like a magnet is pulling them there. But it sends them on a wild chase around the woods, up and down hills, through a stream and into a cave. Al the while, Stiles senses something else in the woods, something that seems like it’s trying to intimidate the runners. Something that gives him the same sense of being watched that he felt before.

The topaz in his earring feels warm, hot to the touch when Stiles reaches up to touch it. Then, just as he's about to climb back down and get out of the forest before something goes wrong, the figures start appearing in the clearing underneath him. One by one, they dash in and then fall at the feet of the tree Stiles is sitting in, all of them seemingly exhausted. Stiles stays quiet in the tree and they don't seem to be paying him any attention. It's like they've run to a finish line and dropped down to rest after crossing it. It makes no sense, it doesn't fit with anything that Stiles knows about the run. Normally, when it's become clear that someone won't find their mate — which is usually hours, sometimes days after the start of the run, though the latter is rare — they simply return to the entrance to the Preserve and leave.

He's still wondering about the magic that made this happen — the people on the ground below his feet now all seem to have fallen asleep — when he hears a crack from the woods, like someone deliberately stepped on a branch to announce their presence. Stiles glances in the direction of the sound and narrows his eyes.

it should be unnerving. It should shock him, maybe enough for him to lose his balance and fall down from the branch he's on.

But when the black wolf strolls into the clearing beneath Stiles, there's only curiosity at first. Then, when he's made sure that he's not imagining things, Stiles feels something else.

He was so focused on the others' connections, so used to ignoring his own, that it feels foreign now. It feels almost unsettling to feel it twist and turn, tighten as new strings make it thicker and stronger. And then he can see it. It's only for a fraction of a moment, but he sees the strings come together and twist into one rope, a red string and a bright blue one both glowing as they twine between the plain ones. He can see it from about an inch away from his wrist and sees it extend towards the wolf on the ground below.

The wolf that's now looking up at Stiles with eyes that seem entirely too knowing to be anything other than human. Then the wolf glances around the clearing at the people sleeping on the ground. When he looks up at Stiles again, he begins to change. It's the eyes first, human ones looking odd against the black fur around them, then the face and ears. As the wolf shifts from four legs to two, Stiles is torn between surprise, curiosity, and wonder.

He doesn't get a chance to move or speak, because just as the wolf's transformation completes, the bushes at the other end of the clearing part and Deaton walks in.

"Mr. Hale," he says quietly, with a surprised but pleased expression. "Welcome back."

The man — naked, Stiles thinks — nods at Deaton, but his eyes turn back to Stiles almost immediately. They're green now, Stiles can see that even from a distance, and they're looking at him with the same curiosity that Stiles feels. There's also expectation, the man's face shadowed with what looks like fear. Why he would be afraid, Stiles doesn't know.

He doesn't jump down from the tree yet, feeling a little unsteady as his mind processes the information that it's observing.

"You didn't tell me there were werewolves in Beacon Hills," he finally blurts in Deaton's direction.

"It wasn't necessary information," Deaton tells him. "Now would you please get down off that tree, Mr. Stilinski?"

Stiles jumps down — almost falls over as he realizes that he misjudged the distance and almost landed on top of someone — and then looks at Deaton with disbelief.

"Okay, how is 'werewolves in Beacon Hills' not necessary information?"

Deaton shrugs his shoulders.

"There were none, at least as far as I was aware," he says, looking at the werewolf.

Hale, Stiles thinks. Still naked, his brain adds, unhelpfully. He knows the name, he remembers the family who used to live in Beacon Hills and whose house burned down in the fire a few years—

Stiles's mind screeches to a halt as the pieces fall together.

"Wait, Derek?"

He stares at the man's — Derek's — face, his mouth open as he tries to process the information. Because now that he figured it out, he can see the resemblance to the guy whose sister used to be in Stiles's year before the fire. The one who played basketball and always seemed too cool for anyone else.

"Stiles."

"Ah, I see you two know each other," Deaton says. "That should make things easier."

"Well, not really," Stiles immediately replies, because while he's familiar with Derek's face and name, that's about all he knows of him.

They were never close, never talked, Stiles wasn't even close with Derek's sister Cora, who was on the list of those who didn't make it out of the Hale house when it burned down. That memory stings even though he didn't know the family, but it was a big deal in town. And afterward, the only survivors of the fire left town. Derek and his older sister Laura, plus their uncle who was badly hurt by the flames.

"What's going to be easier?" Stiles asks when the rest of Deaton's words register in his mind.

Deaton looks pointedly at Derek and then back at Stiles, but doesn't say a word. Stiles stares and then remembers. The bond.

"Oh. Oh no," he says quietly.

Derek, on the other hand, is looking at Stiles like he's trying to figure him out. Which can only be explained by the fact that he was out of town for years, because anyone who has been around knows better than to try. Including Stiles himself.

"I wasn't here to... I mean, I wasn't planning to... I didn't...." Stiles groans as the words aren't coming out right, no matter how much he tries to convey that finding someone wasn't his plan, wasn't something he wanted, wasn't something he was interested in.

"You two can get to know each other first," Deaton says. "I suggest you do it in a place where Mr. Hale can acquire some clothing. Congratulations on mastering the full shift, by the way."

Derek grunts in response and then he turns and starts walking towards the bushes he walked out of. Stiles doesn't wait for an invitation, figuring that he's not going to get one anyway, and he sets off after him.

"Wait," he shouts as he tries to keep up. "What does Deaton mean full shift? Are there other shifts you can do? Have you been a werewolf all your life? Because that explains so much, really, from all those years ago. Is your sister back too? Are you back for good or only for now? Why were you in the forest during the mating run? How long have you been back? And was that you watching me today?"

Derek doesn't stop until he reaches a dirt road and a sleek black Camaro that's parked there. Stiles, now almost completely out of breath, stops and leans against a nearby tree, trying to catch his breath. He does not watch Derek move as he pulls on a Henley and some jeans. He very much does not think about how Derek's not bothering with underwear.

"Yes. We have a Beta shift which is only partial. Born this way. Laura is not here. I don't know. I don't know. A few months. And yes. How did you know I was watching you?" Derek rattles off and it takes Stiles a moment to connect the answers to the questions.

"I could feel it. It's probably the ritual that made my senses more focused," Stiles says, his hand moving up to his talisman earring.

"You're a Mage," Derek says flatly, leaning against the hood of his car.

"Spark. In training."

"I didn't think you were allowed to use magic in there," Derek nods towards the forest. "Not during the run."

Stiles feels the heat rise in his cheeks and he's pretty sure his blush is visible from space.

"Well, not really," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn't in there for the traditional reason. It was... an experiment."

"An experiment. During a mating run."

"I wanted to know how the magic works," Stiles says, shrugging.

"Did you find out?"

"Nope. You showed up. I have a feeling that's something that I couldn't have planned for."

Derek looks at him with a blank expression. It unnerves Stiles because he's used to being able to read people. With the obvious exception of Deaton, but even he has times when Stiles can read into the minute changes in his face.

"I wasn't going to...." Derek starts. "I'm not here to find someone," he says, after a beat.

"Funny that, me either," Stiles tells him. "It's not like the bond is a shackle," he adds with a shrug. "You can walk away. I would, but I actually live in town, so I wouldn't go far. I mean, I'm guessing you moved somewhere a lot further away. And regardless of you being here now, I guess you're not staying? I can't blame you, I wouldn't either. If I could leave, I would too."

Derek's face changes from its blankness to what looks like amusement to Stiles. Of course, it could also be anything else, it's not like he has a Derek dictionary.

"I see you still talk as much as you used to," he says, completely throwing Stiles for a loop. "I would've expected you to grow out of it."

"Yeah, Dad hoped I would too," Stiles says, then pauses and narrows his eyes at Derek. "Wait, you remember me?"

"Hard not to. You were always the most noticeable whenever I was picking up Cora after school."

There's a hint of sadness in Derek's voice. Just enough that Stiles wants to kick himself for bringing up the past. For being a reminder of it, though there's not much he can do about that.

"Loud and obnoxious," he says instead. "I've heard that one before."

Derek shrugs.

"So, what now?" Stiles asks him.

"Get in," Derek says after a beat, nodding towards his car. "I'll drive you out."

"You're not going to like, drop me off deeper in the forest or anything?" Stiles asks, but he's already walking around to get in the Camaro. "Because I know this part of the Preserve, but I'd kind of like to get home at some point."

"I know."

"Wait, so how long exactly have you been back in Beacon Hills? And how many times have you followed me in the woods?"

"Enough. You shouldn't walk around here alone."

"Why? Will I be eaten by the big bad wolf?" Stiles asks, grinning.

"Maybe," Derek says.

And there's a definite spark in his eyes and a smile tugging on his lips. And holy shit, Stiles thinks, that's flirting. That's something that Stiles wasn't on the receiving end of a lot. Just enough to recognize it.

I can work with that, he thinks.

Then he startles when Derek chuckles like he heard Stiles's thought.

"Wait, did I say that out loud?" Stiles asks.

He only gets another chuckle in response. At a loss for what else to say — and he's entirely aware of how unusual that is — Stiles sits back and watches Derek as he's driving. He doesn't look the same as he did when Stiles last saw him, which makes sense since that was years ago. Now, Stiles can't help but let his eyes wander over Derek's features, over the sharp angles of his jaw and the long line of his neck. He looks at the way Derek seems relaxed when he's driving — Stiles isn't surprised, the Camaro is a dream machine and absolutely beyond anything Stiles ever got to drive. He does have a soft spot for his own Jeep — it used to be his mom's — but he'd love to get his hands on the Camaro.

"Not happening," Derek says. "And you're talking out loud again."

Stiles cringes and wonders when he started saying things out loud.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles.

"It's fine," Derek tells him, pulling up at the clearing where Stiles parked his car at the start of the run.

"So, this is me," Stiles says, nodding towards his Jeep. "Thanks for the ride."

Derek doesn't respond at first, so Stiles reaches for the handle and starts opening the door.

"Wait," Derek speaks up when Stiles puts his legs out and starts leaning out.

"What?"

Derek takes a breath and suddenly seems unusually hesitant, almost shy in a way that confuses Stiles, since what he's seen of Derek so far gave him no indication that shyness is even in the vicinity of possible emotions for Derek.

"I... since the run... I...."

"Yeah?"

Stiles suddenly feels hopeful, like maybe there's something brewing that he hasn't hoped for. Something he actively avoided but with the mating run and the bond...

"Would you like to grab a coffee?”

"Yes, yeah," Stiles replies almost immediately, maybe even a little too fast, but he doesn't care.

Derek's responding smile is blinding.

-=-=-=-=-

When Stiles finally admits to his dad how he ended up going on the first date with Derek, they had several of them under the belt. In fact, Stiles doesn't tell his dad that he's dating anyone, let alone that it's someone he met during the mating run or that it just so happens to be a werewolf until months into the relationship.

Despite his worries about the reaction to his confession, all he gets is laughter, a pat on the shoulder, and several pointed "I told you so"s not only from his dad but also from Scott.

Stiles doesn't care. He still doesn't have all the answers about the mating run magic, but he has Derek now, and the answers will come one day.

#sterek fanfic #sterek #eternalsterek #sterekreversebang

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ecoamerica · 23 days

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Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

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pueroimmersi · 5 years

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— BASICS.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE TALL / SHORT / AVERAGE ?

eggsy is around average height, at 5′9″

▸ ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT ?

admittedly, he would rather be taller... but he tries not to get too bothered about it as it isn’t something that can be changed.

▸ WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE ?

eggsy's hair is a dirty blonde, sometimes more of a caramel colour, but it does lighten significantly during the summer. when he isn't working, it tends to just be a bit of a mess; he runs his hand through it and lets it be that way. if he's working, then he does put more effort into combing and using gel. it's quite short, but he no longer shaves the sides of his hair since joining kingsman.

▸ DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR / GROOMING ?

not really. when he isn't working, he pays almost no attention to it at all except when it's truly a mess after waking up. typically, he's wearing a hat whenever he's outside so he doesn't really need to focus on the state of his hair, doesn't feel like he needs to be concerned about it while inside. he doesn't ever let it get too long though, even before kingsman. prefers it short. when it comes to kingsman, then he does spend more time on it all. needs to, in order to fit the part.

he's relatively "normal" with grooming habits - but he does shave most of his body hair, simply because he prefers the way it looks.

▸ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE / WHAT OTHERS THINK ?

he takes cares of his appearance, but he doesn't care what other people think. he dresses for himself, more so when he's outside of kingsman, but he doesn't let what other people think affect his appearance or style. he does dress 'more expensive' even when it's just trainers, a cap and a tracksuit: he's always wearing branded clothes.

— PREFERENCES.

▸ INDOORS OR OUTDOORS ?

outdoors. while eggsy can be a home body, that tends to be when he's in a relationship with someone. he's used to having to be outside, avoiding dean and generally just wanting to stay away from the council estate as much as possible. he likes the freedom that there is with being outside, compared to how cramped and claustrophobic being inside can often be. he usually walks jb, goes for runs, just likes being outside.

on the opposite, there are times that eggsy can spend days inside, only going outside to walk jb. this is most often coming back from a mission, when he needs a day or two to unwind. will order food and watch netflix all day and stay in bed.

▸ RAIN OR SUNSHINE ?

sunshine. eggsy is a summer boy, through and through. prefers it when it's warm, because he tends to run cold quite often. the exception is when it's too hot and humid, which he can't handle at all.

▸ FOREST OR BEACH ?

the beach. living in central london means he can't go to the beach often, but he loves it whenever he is able to go. if he could choose, that would be where he'd choose to retire.

▸ PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS ?

metals. eggsy doesn't really see the point of gems, at least for himself. but he isn't that much on wearing jewlery minus his dad's before joining kingsman. after that, he doesn't wear any apart from the signet ring purely for the taser aspect.

▸ FLOWERS OR PERFUMES ?

flowers. while he likes perfumes, colognes more specifically, eggsy finds himself a bit of a hopeless romantic when it comes to flowers. he likes the meaning behind them, more so when people know about those meanings when choose bouquets. he just thinks that they can brighten up a place, and he likes that even though he can't entirely explain why.

▸ PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE ?

personality. surprisingly. while when it comes to one night stands and short flings, eggsy prefers appearance, they also don't often happen. he doesn't like them purely because he prefers to connect with people. that's why he favours personality, because he can't be with someone that he doesn't connect with and get along with personality-wise.

▸ BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD ?

eggsy would rather be alone, rather than being in a crowd and feeling alone. he doesn't like being the centre of attention too often, as much as he finds himself being exactly that. he keeps himself to himself as much as he is able to. rather than being in a crowd, he sticks with the small group of friends that he has; brandon, jamal and ryan. he'd rather be with them than a pub full of people with no one to talk to.

▸ ORDER OR ANARCHY ?

eggsy tries to incorporate a bit of both in everything that he does. even with kingsman, he doesn't quite keep to the rules the way that he should. but he also doesn't go entirely off the rails. he was more anarchy than order before kingsman, which is something that will never change - but he is trying to help and save the world, rather than hurt it any further.

▸ PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES ?

painful truths. eggsy's never been a fan of lying. the truth always comes out eventually, and so he would rather feel the ache of a painful truth than the paranoia that comes from knowing that someone is lying. he's seen it before; with his mum and dean. the way that his lies bit away at her until there was nothing left. he'd rather just know the truth, regardless of how much that may hurt.

▸ SCIENCE OR MAGIC ?

science. eggsy likes the idea of magic, but he knows that there's no sort of truth to it, no matter how much he may have wished for it when he was younger.

▸ PEACE OR CONFLICT ?

peace. eggsy has live with conflict all of his life, and his job revolves around conflict. he would just like some peace in his life. in any form that he can get it.

▸ NIGHT OR DAY ?

day. more specifically? dawn. eggsy likes it when it's brighter, when he can get things done and not have to worry about any sort of restrictions - but he also prefers it, more so, when it's quiet out in the world and he can go and run for a few hours first thing in the morning without having anyone get in his way or just ruin it in any way.

▸ DUSK OR DAWN ?

dawn. visually? he does prefer dusk, though. he thinks it’s nicer to look at, but he likes the calm of both of them.

▸ WARMTH OR COLD ?

warmth. eggsy runs cold; his toes are nearly always cold, and when it's winter, the heating is on or he's hiding away beneath a ton of blankets or with hot water bottles. he doesn't like being cold. at all.

▸ MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS ?

a few close friends. eggsy doesn't really see the point of having many acquaintances, given that he doesn't want a lot of people involved in his business, honestly. he'd rather just have a few people that he can really rely on and trust, rather than a ton of people in his contacts that he still doesn't feel like he can entirely trust even a couple of them.

▸ READING OR PLAYING A GAME ?

playing a game. he likes reading, but there wasn't much available to him before kingsman, and he finds playing a game more stimulating, mentally and challenge-wise. he likes to be active, doing as much as he can at any time.

— QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS ?

eggsy has a few bad habits. more than he's willing to admit to, but the main one is that he smokes whenever he's drunk. he tends not to drink much, even though he often finds himself in situations that involve alcohol or in places that are often fueled by consumption. he also smokes weed. a lot. which is a bad habit, even though he doesn't admit that it is. he thinks it's fine as long as he stays away from the harder stuff.

other than that? his bad habit would probably be his swearing. he can't stop it at all, no matter how hard he tries. even around daisy, he isn't able to stop it entirely.

eggsy bites and picks his fingernails a lot - that's more of a nervous habit, though, but still something that he isn't exactly proud of doing.

he leaves his trainers by the stairs, rather than putting them away in the shoe cupboard, or even just moving them out of the way.

▸ HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM ? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM ?

lee unwin, eggsy's father, died when eggsy was aged 7 (roughly, who knows with the kingsman timeline, honestly). he always idolised his father when growing up, so it affected him deeply. he was always told stories about how great his father was, and stories about how he was when eggsy was younger - but eggsy could never remember them, which affected him negatively because he was so desperate to remember everything that he could. that he looked like lee, or acted like him. it was also one of the main driving forces, initially, of him agreeing to do the kingsman trials. while it did evolve into him wanting to do it for his own reasons, lee was why he agreed initially. he wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, more so after dropping out of the marines due to michelle - especially as he'd joined to purposely follow in lee's footsteps. he just always wanted to live up to his name, and that still affects him deeply almost 20 years later.

the other loss of his life was harry hart; something that shook him to the core, more than he was willing to acknowledge or admit to. he tried to emulate him in every way that he was able to. it, perhaps, did shake him and affect him more than lee's death did, because he had memories with harry. he wanted to make harry proud, in any and all ways that he was able to. he failed, though, and their relationship ended in an argument before harry died, which also hit him harder given that he knew that it was his fault that the argument developed the way it did. he didn't handle it well, at all. kept his house as a shrine, even after living there for two years.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS ?

all of the more 'current' fond memories are anything involving daisy. when she first grabbing his thumb in her fist. when she first walked. when she first said 'egg'. all of them revolve around her, because she is the centre of his life aside from kingsman. he wants her to be happy and healthy, and to have a good life and to not be affected by the environment that she had to grow up in initially. he wants to give her the best, in any way that he can.

one of the other fondest memory that eggsy has is the only time that he went to the beach when his father was alive: it was cold, given that it was nearly the winter, but they travelled down to brighton beach, and it was almost deserted except for kite fliers. it was one of the last times that they were all together as a family, before lee was recruited for the kingsman trials.

▸ IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL ?

it isn't easy, but it's perhaps easier for him than it is for most 'normal' people. eggsy does it because he has to, not because he wants to. he wants to create a safe place. he wants the world to get better - and so, unfortunately, killing people is a part of being a part of kingsman. there isn't any way around it, as much as eggsy sometimes wishes that there were. over time, eggsy has become desensitized to it, but it still affects him deeply in certain situations.

▸ WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN ?

it's rare for eggsy to break down. he prefers to keep his emotions buried in himself. to compartmentalize them and keep them to himself. when he does break down, it's typically when he's alone. he finds it too vulnerable to do so in front of other people - and so, if eggsy were to break down in front of anyone, there would be a tremendous amount of trust there. it can go one of two ways: violently, or an overwhelming amount of emotion. eggsy will ruin everything around him, will trash his room and break things and yell until he physically is unable to. or he'll cry; sob and sob and sob until no more noise can be made. will stay where he is and try to make himself as quiet as possible, often when he's in bed in the middle of the night. there isn't much in terms of an inbetween.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE ?

it is very rare, but eggsy knows that when he's working with someone from kingsman, that he does have to trust them (literally) with his life. merlin, harry, roxy. he trusts them all with his life. there's no hesitation there between any of them about what they're doing and whether it's the right thing to do, because they all have each other's best interests at heart.

▸ WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE ?

honestly? eggsy initially goes into denial when he's in love. doesn't let himself believe it, at all. that he isn't in love with the person, and it usually tends to involve him avoiding them to also avoid the emotions that he's feeling towards them, because he can't let himself be in love with them. it tends to sneak up on him. when he's okay with it? when he's with that person? he's soft. softer than he is with anyone else, because he doesn't get that opportunity in any other aspect of his life - hasn't had it either, at any opportunity, given the circumstances of his life. he wants to be quiet and calm with someone; to sit with them all night and talk, or just be comfortable in silence with them. to be able to shove his cold toes under their thighs when sitting together on the sofas together, and enjoy the moment together. he is overly-affectionate at some points: he likes contact, however small. likes brushing fingers together in public, even though he isn't much for pda beyond hand-holding. he wants to be close and have that connection. he wants to be able to tell the person that he loves everything he's thinking, about the good and bad parts of his day. but also to just sit there in silence and watch the news, or listen to the radio, and not have it feel like it's an issue or something to be embarrassed by.

TAGGED: @agnt-roxy

TAGGING: @hartif / @knightfailed / @marwnad / @statesangria / @rottweilerrr / @underoosed / everyone

#this was Fun ngl #⚔️ ❛ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴀ sᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ❜ about.#⚔️ ❛ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ sᴛᴏʀɪᴇs﹐ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ❜ headcanon.#long post //

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kingsholmrp · 5 years

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RASMUS HEDQVIST

Age: 28 Birthdate: 10th March 1990 Gender and Pronouns: Cis-Male, he/him Hometown: Göteborg, Sweden Occupation: Employee of Cookie Monster + other stray jobs

He is a Silver. He is an Empathic Creation.

BIOGRAPHY:

When Viktor Lidman met up with a woman named Caroline Hedqvist he was fooled to believe he was one of those to have finally met their end game. Although Caroline was on the rougher side, the two seemed a perfect pair for a good three years in the making – yet there was a hidden secret between the pair that Viktor has cautiously held back from his girlfriend, even if it had caused some heated debates as to why Viktor refused to visit a proper hospital whenever he got hurt or why he always hid away whenever he cut himself and gained a rash. The secret only folded itself by accident when the couple ended up in the middle of a late-night attack on their way home from a bar and Viktor held no other option but to defend using his powers out of fear his girlfriend would get hurt. Viktor was a Silver, something Caroline had only heard off as a supposed fairytale story and scoffed at as an adult – wielding the power of Empathic Creation and the possibility to create objects and creatures through emotions.

Viktor had hoped that the two would work through it, tight and in love as they were, but the truth became much darker for the wishful man. In fact, Caroline was furious by his lies, as well as terrified, distancing herself from Viktor; and when someone eventually came knocking on their door to ask about that specific night, filled with rumors from their attackers, Caroline didn’t spare a moment to point them in the direction of Viktor. It was the last time she heard from him and neither did she care to inquire where he had gone. To her, Viktor was dangerous and someone who had purposely stolen three years of her life that she’d never get back and when people wondered where he’d disappeared to, she’d simply reply that he’d run away with some skank.

Now, what she didn’t call for was the fact she happened to be pregnant. It came as a shock five months in, but against all odds she didn’t have the nerve to go through an abortion. Another four months later and Rasmus Hedqvist entered the picture, unknowingly a Silver much like his father and thanks to this, his childhood started off as any other child was supposed to. Caroline didn’t treat her son any better or worse (even if he was a painful reminder of that former ex of her’s) for the first four years of his life as he, miraculously, managed to avoid any major bruises and bleeding that would have given away the color of his blood. Whenever he scrapped a knee, Caroline just thought it to be paint or some other annoying dirt on his skin – but Rasmus’ luck didn’t last forever, and reality came crashing down with a heavy nosebleed that exposed him as a Silver and devoured every ounce of love his mother held for him.

Caroline wanted nothing but to give Rasmus up, ditch him on someone else and get away from her responsibilities. She once again felt cheated by life, by Viktor and this strange defect that kept everything around her from being normal. Yet, she couldn’t and instead she took on the job of keeping Rasmus away from the public eye, to make sure he didn’t expose himself further and ruined her reputation as an honorable and normal person. She decided to homeschool him and she was no longer a loving, caring mother but rather a strict overlord that wanted utmost calm and quiet. Rasmus on the other hand and no idea of what was happening around him as his mother refused to explain a thing and having no further knowledge of his powers. He began to play along, wanting to keep himself out of trouble and Caroline pleased.

A few years went by and Caroline found herself another boyfriend, a groggy individual with no respect in his body but at least he was no Silver and that was good enough for her. The two went on to have another child, a girl they named Moa and she quickly became the gem of the family with Rasmus stacked on the side. And, perhaps, that would have continued to be Rasmus’ life if the new boyfriend, Henrik, hadn’t decided to strike fear into Rasmus one fateful day and thus activated his powers.

Henrik had been mad. Pissed off after a phone call with a friend and wrecked through their house with his blood vessels near bursting. Then he had made his way to Rasmus, firsts up in the air and ready to strike against the eleven-year-old boy with all his fury, right before Rasmus blacked out from a second force that certainly felt worse than a fist. When asked about this fateful day, Rasmus will have a hard time collecting his memories of his actions – mostly because he doesn’t want to remember his former living room smashed into pieces and his mom’s lifeless body in the corner, alongside a yet-breathing Henrik. His sister was screaming in her room, terrified of the noises around her that had woken up her from a nap, but Rasmus paid no attention as he stumbled through the rumbles around him. Had he done this? How had he done this? He had no time to dwell, possessing this urgent fear that no matter what: he had to get away and that fast.

Rasmus packed a bag with necessities and emptied both Caroline and Henrik’s wallets within minutes, before running out of the house and away from his problems. Equally keen to taste a bit of freedom as he feared the things to come, wondering if he was now considered a murderer and to be haunted down if he dared stop. Thus, he didn’t. Instead, Rasmus tried his best to adapt to his new lifestyle and to answer questions he now possessed about himself and the things he could do – and quickly began to realize he could shape useful objects out of matter that could help him survive, but that the success and the power behind it shifted depending on his mood. At a start he noted that when he was happy his powers nearly almost worked in his favor and showed itself easy to control and could create something as heavy as a functioning bicycle to get around, and when neutral he was better off using his power for smaller creations such as tools. However, whenever he entered a state of sadness he could create nothing but a sloppy mess of his ideas and when he was scared, or angry and upset, his powers took control for him. The last part proved to be his main problem for the years to come.

These days, Rasmus will rarely go by his own name and only stop by cities and towns to gather up money for his next trip. He tends to work his way between Sweden and Norway, jumping the border when he makes too much of a fuss in one country to hide in the next. He rarely sticks around for more than a few months at best, scared of being hunted down by his past mistakes or because his powers eventually get the better of him and leave a trail of destruction in its way. He tries his best to not connect with people more than he must, as he has come to learn that nothing truly lasts forever and it’s easier to bail if nothing is holding him back. Kingsholm is no exception to this rule, but perhaps the many secrets of the town can finally offer Rasmus the answers he so desperately craves regarding himself and the powers he wields. He hides behind the name Linus Thorell and keeps his identity low, torn between wanting a stable roof above his head and to hide away from society where it’s safe and he can’t risk hurting anybody else.

Rasmus Hedqvist is portrayed by William Moseley.

#all #m #s #rasmus hedqvist

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worldcakecakecake · 7 years

Text

Office Sweet

In which Ludwig, the boss of a designing firm, falls in love with his newly hired intern.

I’m so sorry that I updated this so late, but I explained in my last posts that I went through quite the turmoil this last month, and it is still not done as my family is moving to my grandmothers due to economic problems. Still, after finishing most of my classes and only dealing with a couple of last projects from one class, I finally had some time to edit and write. I hope you enjoy this long last chapter, once again sorry for the lateness and I hope that you continue to be patient for the rest of my works. Enjoy!

Chapter 4

Ludwig, even with his intimidation and seriousness, was quite a gem of a man that many tried their own way to flirt and get close to, only for it to be pushed aside, for Ludwig to return back to business and create no such chance for anybody. It was a wonder to everybody that the petite, sweet and charming Feliciano, the little angel that cowered so much as somebody coming close to him holding scissors, would be daring enough to somehow enchant their cold and hard boss. It was quite the loss for many who had an interest in Feliciano, who thought they would have a better chance with his friendly and easing composure, but instead he gave all that love and attention to the most frightening man in the company.

They made quite a couple, the chance bringing Ludwig into a new light, seeing him with smiles, to weaken in softness whenever they shared an embrace or when they took a spot to chat, bringing out this whole new side that the company preferred having the muscled German in.

After four dates, their fifth one to take place that coming weekend, Ludwig heavily began to wonder what kind of union they should be established on. Was Feliciano just a person he was dating? Or was he actually his…boyfriend? He was given that answer clearly one day as he handed Berwald the booth plans for a coming interior design convention they were going to participate in, both discussing his idea, hearing for his opinion, anything they could add and remove, a subject he was completely dedicated to until he spotted familiar curls by the side of his vision. Feliciano had just met up with Tino down the hall, smiling and waving, coming close for a chat, both squealing as they showed images of animals on their phones. Ludwig rolled his eyes. No matter what Feliciano was to him, they shouldn’t be doing something like that on job hours. Berwald had fallen silent, surely expecting Ludwig’s answer, one he didn’t bother to listen to as his gaze was caught by his own interest to the small Finnish blond that spoke on with the Italian brunet.

“-and this is our Maltese, her name is Hanatamago!”

“Ooohhh! She’s so cute! I have a little Pomeranian named Alfredo. My boyfriend has a German Shepherd, a golden retriever, and a dachshund!”

“Ludwig has three dogs?”

“Yes! They’re cuties!”

Ludwig shut down, his mind burned, yet his heart quickened in intense beating. He was sure he would faint from the utter emotion he felt at the moment.

Feliciano addressed him as his boyfriend…he was his boyfriend… Gott im Himmel, he was his boyfriend! He actually had to hold himself from the wall or else he would let himself melt unto the floor.

Ludwig and Berwald later had no idea what they were talking about, they left enchanted in their own feelings and thoughts.

Feliciano continued his usual business, of helping along with suggestions and ideas in groups, bringing them their coffee and drinks, and handing reports and others papers to Ludwig, to him the best part of the day now. It was during those handings that Ludwig and Feliciano had some alone time in the office. Feliciano would lock the door and take his sitting on Ludwig’s lap, one the blond would welcome with his smile, with a hand caressing his thighs, looks of longing in their eyes before they would crash their lips into the burning, into the intensity, arms wrapped around each other, dragging them more into whatever way their lips mended. It was continuous, only to depart for breaths, for smiles, for sweet words and to see how brightly their eyes shone. Occasionally they would force themselves to stop when Ludwig received a knock, Feliciano having to leave his office with a blush expression, the same Ludwig found himself in, quickly composing himself, coughing and trying to erase any proof of what just happened to whoever entered. It was never enough, it was always clear to whoever came, only spreading more rumors, more news, more wondering over what was happening in Ludwig’s office whenever Feliciano entered alone.

One day, Feliciano forgot to put the lock, desperate to be in Ludwig’s hold. He was horny, and after the day before, when Ludwig let his hand dare under Feliciano’s underwear to give him quite a rise, Feliciano was determined to get all kinds of new touches from those calloused, gentle, yet rough hands. He smashed their bodies together in one jump, Ludwig’s chair dangling and in danger of falling to the ground. Feliciano didn’t care, he would let it if it meant being in the cushion of Ludwig’s body, of their arms still around each other, of his legs finding the right balance as they once again met their lips, as they moved, twirled, somehow keeping them standing as their passion continued. Feliciano had his hands all over Ludwig’s chest, even unbuttoning some areas to take a better feel of his skin, refreshing to his touch, to the heightening of their kiss, Ludwig now biting into his lips, while Feliciano salivated with his tongue, for now both to join as they took a secure standing without the chair fearing to collapse. It was easier for Feliciano’s hips to thrust against Ludwig’s, to rut and feel as their erections grew through the fabric of their underwear and pants, moans being shared between their mouths, Ludwig’s own hands beginning the thread of his back, falling and falling until he had his ass in his easy hold, pushing him more to have them thrusting wildly, Feliciano now bouncing on him, taking more of that rod that even with restrictions was driving him to utter ecstasy, to escaped moans, to arches, to fingers threading in the hair that escaped from Ludwig’s gel as it became too heated to maintain. So hot, so hot, they were just about ready to shed their clothing, to have more of their skin against skin.

“Aaahhh, amore, forte, più forte, dammi di più,” he breathed, he seemed to sing in the most melodic voice Ludwig had ever heard, even if he couldn’t understand it all that well. Yet he was weak, compliant to piston more of their hips together, sensing the urgency, the peak approaching, just about ready to fall on them, just about ready to scream.

“Ludwig, we just got this request from Wales- and holy mother of heaven and hell, what the fuck,” Gilbert came in with a swift opening, seeing some movements, some tight holds around two people that quickly had his mind collecting what was going on in the privacy of his brother’s office.

In the suddenness, in the trying to regain some sort of decency, Feliciano fell straight to the ground, Ludwig got a mess of papers to cover his lap, stupefied and not even helping Feliciano to stand, who rubbed his backside hoping to relieve it from the pain of the fall.

“It-It’s…not what it looks like!" Ludwig tried to excuse, but his eyes were avoiding, he still flushed, Feliciano hadn’t done anything to hide his own bulge.

“I don’t know, everything looks pretty obvious to me,” Gilbert interrogated.

“It’s uh…it’s um…uh…” Ludwig really tried to find a good enough excuse, but nothing really fit, nothing could really hide the actions that Gilbert already saw.

“Luddy, just relax. Feli, can you leave us alone for a moment, I really have to discuss this request with Ludwig,” Gilbert spoke on normally, quite a surprise, he was not one to let something like this fall between him so easily.

“Yes-yes, of course,” Feliciano nodded and made his way out, avoiding eyes with Gilbert, but he could still see his grin, his teasing eyes and Feliciano only smiled back albeit in embarrassment, Ludwig thinking he only did it to be polite.

Feliciano shut the door behind him, leaving Gilbert with an even wider grin, with a wink, trying to hold himself from letting his chuckles become any higher by biting harshly on his lips.

“Um…yes, what did they sent from Wales?” Ludwig questioned hoping it could calm enough, but no, Gilbert kept on smiling and looking on with blaming eyes like an idiot.

“Gilbert!” Ludwig groaned, hoping he could quickly get to business.

“I can’t just ignore the fact that my little brother was about to get it on in his office with his boyfriend! Really, I never thought you would become so impatient as to let yourself almost bang him against your desk,” he laughed, coming close to finally land the file on his desk.

“I-I wasn’t going to, I was just…I was just kissing him."

“Your hips were kissing his all right. You were about ready to rip your clothes off,” he chortled.

“No um…no we-we weren’t, it just seemed like that to you, we just got a little… touchy,” Ludwig tried on to excuse, Gilbert couldn’t believe it.

“Right…by the way, you got a little… drool here,” Gilbert pointed to the one that was falling down the edge of Ludwig’s lips that he quickly brushed away with a rub of his hand. “Also, you might want to close up your shirt.” It was still unbuttoned as a mess, Ludwig quickly trying to put it together as well as trying to pull back the strands of hair that fell on his forehead.

“Yes…nothing happened, but all right,” he shrugged with a still evident smile.

“Just tell me about this request,”

“Okay, so…”

Six months since Feliciano came into the company, those last ones utter fantasy and dream. In that small amount of time, Ludwig was introduced to a chance of romance, to dinners, hikes, beaches, movies, even a weekend trip to New York City to spend with someone as Feliciano. Each day a new passion, a new smile, a new glow, a stronger realization to what this could be. Days at their houses, in the commodity of less clothes, of shared beds and breakfast, a normality that Ludwig had no problem with having for continuing days.

As he would wrap his arms around Feliciano’s figure, dressed in nothing but his shirt from the night before, with coffee staining his lips, Ludwig would lean in and clean it with his own, telling him, truly and with shine as the morning glow that came into his apartment: “I love you.”

That first time had brought a sudden shock to Feliciano, a frozen expression as he truly let the echo of the words reach him all completely. Ludwig had feared, instantly he hurt, and he was afraid for this brash telling, ready for apologies, but Feliciano then smiled, wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling him into his closeness and letting their lips meet in fire before he answered just as brightly: “I love you too.”

Ludwig had never known a more awake feeling, he had never seen the world with more a shine, never had more desire to work, to wake, to do everything in alight and promise. His company had never been more fruitful with the new dedications he gave it, with the new chances he brought to his workers that held it even higher. This was the opposite of what he expected a relationship would bring him. But like it had all changed in a matter of six months, it had its chance to do so in a single day.

“You’re…resigning?” Ludwig held to the letter weakly, knowing that any little wisp was enough to have it flying to the ground, or the wall, just anywhere that not lay between him and Feliciano.

“It was…what I decided when I first came here. All I needed were these six months of experience so I could go for that position in Rome,” Feliciano explained sadly.

It was an opportune position that should have left him with exploding joy, now it had him weakened to the point that he feared it wouldn’t let him stand.

“And…they accepted you?”

“Got an e-mail last night…” Feliciano rubbed his hand on his arm shyly.

Silence then settled, the letter between them hanging it.

“When would you be leaving?”

“About two weeks…”

“Oh…”

It only became more heavy, more hurting.

“Um…uh…” he hated to be doing this, he wouldn’t offer such a chance for anybody if they hadn’t been enough in the company, but this was Feliciano, his love, his recent sun and rain, and if it meant bending some things to keep him here…then he would try.

“I could…raise your position um…grant you the chance to lead projects, raise your wages, offer healthcare,” Ludwig tried to convince.

With the smile Feliciano wore, Ludwig thought it had done just the trick, but then it easily fell, Feliciano reaching his hands to take a hold of Ludwig’s.

“Ludwig…I’m the one who hands all your files, I know the company is overemployed, you don’t have enough to do something like that for me. I really, really appreciate it, but…even if you could, I would still really want this position in Italy,” he admitted, although breaking and downing.

“I’ve wanted it for so long, it’s exactly what I want to do. I’ll have my own office, my own clients, to control projects however I want, an amazing pay and more importantly I’ll be in my home and…this is a chance of my dreams and I don’t…want to give it up,” he told, leaning closer for Ludwig to see his purpose, one that Ludwig doubted he could break, even if it meant leaving him here in New Jersey.

Ludwig sighed, the hold of his hands becoming tighter, to then raise them to his lips to kiss, laying him there as what would happen next sink into his head, maintaining that hold as if it could maintain him forever with him.

“If it’s what you want then…I’ll accept, wish you the best in this new opportunity and…receive our…separation if we…if we have to…”

Feliciano could just feel his pain with the sudden grip in his hold, shaking, the bite to his lips, turning away, not wanting Feliciano to see the shattering in his eyes.

“Ludwig…I love you, I love you so much and what hurts the most about this is having to leave you behind, but…we don’t have to break up, I can message you every day and we can webcam every chance we get, I’ll send you all kinds of gifts, and you’ll come visit me! We can travel around Italy, and we could even go up to Germany!” He tried to light up, ecstatic for the future chances. He could leave this country behind, but he couldn’t leave Ludwig, and he would make him a part of him even if miles away.

Ludwig finally managed to smile, albeit with still lingering melancholy, because even if they did these things, it still meant time apart, it still meant they couldn’t be with each as often, it still meant him going away while he had to stay here.

“I’ll try what I can for us,” he decided, bringing Feliciano that large smile he adored.

They came into an embrace with strong promises, hands innocently on their backs, hips, necks and the back of their heads, awakening chances, strengthening a bond they knew not even distance could break.

Ludwig and Feliciano made sure to spend those last two resting weeks together, along with other friends Feliciano had made in the company that wanted to wish a proper farewell, luck and even appropriate gifts for all he had done for them. Lovino didn’t mind him staying at Ludwig’s so constantly these last few days, it was better than having him sulking about how much he would miss everybody…especially Ludwig. Lovino himself would leave for a position in Rome like his brother in a couple of months as well, so this wouldn’t be the last he would have of his younger brother. Now with Antonio…he was glad Feliciano was out of the house to have him over more often.

Despite the time Ludwig and Feliciano had been together, the intensity of their kisses, of their touches, their grinding and rutting, they really hadn’t been able to have appropriate sex. Ludwig sometimes hated that he waited this long, that he had to leave it for Feliciano’s last night in the city, when they could have begun to enjoy from something so intimate weeks before, when Feliciano leaving was not a threat, so it would feel wholesome instead of just a kind of special goodbye.

Ludwig had invited Feliciano to his apartment for dinner, advising him to bring wine to go with the menu of smoked trout and goat Cheese rolls, grilled beef, and his try with an orecchiette with broccoli and even some Neapolitan style pizza. Feliciano said the pasta was passable but the pizza was an abomination. He was lucky Lovino wasn’t there to give him a harsh throw of words and deny any blessings to this relationship. They ended up laughing about it, cuddling in the couch, sharing in wine and chocolate coated almonds as they spoke on, hands treading on curves of hips, on arms, sometimes falling silent to just let themselves stare to the wonderful glow of red on their skin, on the stars in their eyes, of their breaths reigning, pulling them the ever closer.

It was obvious the moment would lean them into a kiss, to move themselves much closer to the other as their simple touches grew into harshened grasps, just enough to have their moans awaken, which in turn raised the intensity of their want. Feliciano straddled Ludwig’s laps, beginning that rutting they very well knew while their hands continued to move all over them, through hair, necks, chests, legs and of course grasping of growing erections. They knew just how to spin, how to push, what parts of their necks to kiss and suck, wanting more of that skin, beginning to remove their shirts, to be granted that much more area for their lips and hands to explore, to arch them, for their voices to expand their melody of passion.

Ludwig decided this was not the appropriate place to start surely what was coming, and while skillfully keeping their lips connected in their wet mending, with swirling tongues and spit falling down to their chins, Ludwig raised them, Feliciano instantly wrapping his legs around those powerful hips, arms around the strength of his shoulder, while he moved them to the comfort of his room and bed.

Before Ludwig landed him on his sheets, he had quickly removed those jeans he wore, even his underwear, so when he did sink into the mattress, he was bare all completely for him to witness.

A golden beauty, seduction incarnated unlike any Ludwig had ever seen. Yes, he wanted that treasure, all that shine, all that love that Feliciano already welcomed with the opening of his arms…and legs. Ludwig quickly removed whatever was left of his clothing, for Feliciano to see his well form, majestic and powerful, having him dread that he kept it often concealed, but also vengeful for if any other could take a stare, could have this view. No, no, only his, Ludwig was only his, and with the choking embrace he gave him, their naked bodies lying across every inch of skin to feel and grow by its warmth, he enunciated the owning of this territory for him.

While they moved, while theirs hands and arms were all over their bodies, while they kissed in ferocity, Ludwig reached for the bedside table, where he kept them, where he stored them after he bought them that morning expecting this to finally happen. A good bottle of lube, a good pack of condoms, all to which Feliciano smirked as Ludwig laid them on the bed, taking the lube to start the preparation. Feliciano was more than eager, only a small hesitation in the way his eyes took every process of Ludwig opening the package, biting his lips in anticipation as he drenched his fingers enough with the clear substance. Ludwig neared, he pointed, laying comforting kisses on his thighs, Feliciano laying down, keeping his stare to the ceiling as Ludwig took the first dive. It began simple, movements that Feliciano only gave small cringes to, slowly accepting, slowly feeling it pleasure, having him calling, moving against them.

“More…” he moaned, with bites against his lips to keep himself from giving any other larger shout. Ludwig obeyed, loving that hint of a beg, loving how he made him contort, with a harshened grip on the sheets, heightening his voice the more he plunged. He loved it, he loved that voice, he wanted it louder, and in his intent, he began to move his fingers much quicker, deepening, hitting all the nerves that made Feliciano’s movements much rougher against it, now shouting along uncaring, just the way Ludwig wanted it.

“Stop, stop, stop, stop,” he suddenly wanted and Ludwig did so, giving him the space to breathe, to settle in his sheets, to regain enough just to speak.

To help him calm, Ludwig traced his fingers over his legs, watching how it helped him enough to regain his normal breathing, for his entire body to take a sudden rest.

“What happened? Did I…do something wrong?” Ludwig asked worriedly, ready for any kind of apology.

“No, no, quite the opposite, you were so good and I…didn’t want to cum before um…” he turned so beautifully shy with an enchanting shade of red that Ludwig couldn’t help his chuckle, from leaning and placing a dear kiss on his head.

“Thank you,” Ludwig told him, coming down into his embrace, settling well between his legs, making sure he was comfortable, that there was no fear in his expression before he let his hand line up his erection with his entrance, deliciously letting his tip rub against it, creating already enough of a sensation to Feliciano, who was arching and letting out little moans.

“May I?” Ludwig asked like such a gentleman that Feliciano found himself shouting in delight.

“Aaahhh, sì, sì, dio, sì!” He begged once again in the most beautiful way and Ludwig couldn’t deny him, as well as himself, any longer. He took the plunge, a hardened feat at first as he tried to make his way in, wanting not to be as hurtful, but no matter it was still a hard intrusion that had Feliciano whimpering, straining, gripping ever harsher to the large pillow now. It made Ludwig hesitant to continue, to just leave it at this depth, but then Feliciano moved his gripping to his shoulders.

“Ke-keep going,” he still wanted.

“Feliciano you look really strained, I don’t want to hurt you."

“Oh god, Ludwig! Just keep going! I’ll get used to it, it’s just-ah! It’s just big, bu-but I can deal!” He whimpered.

With a sigh, keeping a hand to soothe his hair, the other balancing on the bed, he began his push, slow no matter the commands Feliciano gave him. He did obey in trying to get deeper and deeper, until all his member was buried in his tightness, in his warmth, and it was the most amazing wrapped feeling Ludwig had ever experienced and he feared it would be enough for him to release that instant.

“Mmm, so good, so damn good-aaahhh,” he vocalized along with moans, breathing beside Feliciano’s head as he tried to control himself from going crazy in this kind of high and delight. Feliciano arched as he slowly got used to this delicious, amazing fullness, hands tracing sweetly on his back, easing him into their union, into the air of ecstasy, in the accomplishments of finally having each other like this. Feliciano smiled against the side of his face, one hand now rubbing at the back of his hair, then filling it with kisses and licks, until it had awakened Ludwig enough to begin his slow movements. So simple, yet enough to have Feliciano shouting, tightening his hold and whispering so enchantingly into his ear: “Aaahhh, moreee.” Ludwig couldn’t take it any longer, and with a tighter grip of the hand on his bed, the other on Feliciano, he began fastening and fastening and fastening until the bed joined along in his harsher movements, until Feliciano was shouting with each thrust, moving them along, in his hips, in the grips he had of Ludwig’s shoulder, in his moans, in his shut eyes lost to the euphoria, enough of a request of continuation and hardening. Any intensity, any loss of control was accepted and Feliciano welcomed it with wrapping his legs around his waist in a heavy grip, only strengthening Ludwig’s desire to go as untamed as he wanted, potent in those dips that had Feliciano’s screams heightening, into a mess, into frayed movements that only personified the extreme bliss he felt as Ludwig kept bringing him those powerful thrusts. God, how he still wanted him to go harder and faster and Ludwig would find a sure way to comply, to drive him crazier, to always bring a new alight of stars to both their eyes. Ludwig swore that this was what heaven felt like, that there would be no warmth more fulfilling, an embrace more loving, moans more symphonic, a more cushioned ass and thighs that held to him in quite a refresh he never thought he would find in an act such as this. So euphoric, so delighted, he didn’t feel the scratches on his back or wherever Feliciano desperately carved, it only added to his rapture, to the nearing climax that he tried not to give into, but oh god Feliciano tightened, he extended the most beautiful moan, his curls and bangs departing to reveal a face of angelic glow.

“Aaahhh, Ti amo, ooohhh, Ti amo cosi, cosi, cosi, tanto-aaahhh!” How could he continue to hold himself with someone that beautiful, that divine, that damn…perfect? Ludwig strengthened those last thrust, a quickening that made Feliciano lose any kind of ground essence, letting his screams take a volume of their own, uncontrolled as Ludwig’s meeting movements and raises.

“Du bist ein Engel des Himmels, Und oh Gott, ja, ja, ja, ich liebe dich, Gott ja, ich liebe dich!”

That did it.

Hoping to have them both joined in release, Ludwig helped Feliciano finish with a pump of his erection, drenching them both in white as they shouted out, as they gave in to the deepest shallow to let themselves ride the last of that force.

As soon as it began to settle away, Ludwig dropped and Feliciano left him use himself as his rest, both creating a melody of exhausted breaths. Sweat coated skin mixed along as one as their bodies still moved against each other while regaining their breaths.

As energy was restored, as other movements were given, they used it to caress at their hair, at their sides, meeting with a deepening gaze of their eyes, smiling and in it enough to show each other how incredible, intensifying and loving it had all been.

As it dwindled, as they had enough to be aware, Feliciano dared move back against him, to the union that still continued. Ludwig was left wide eyed, starring back to Feliciano to see him with a smile, a bite on his lips, teasing eyes and raised eyebrows.

“You…want to do it again?” Ludwig wondered as much.

“Luddy, I’m leaving tomorrow. I want the most I can get from you and I’m prepared to have no sleep tonight.”

Oh god that smirk, that new heat, that new vivacity that Ludwig completely wanted a part of.

“At least…let me change the condom,” he blushed in embarrassment, to Feliciano so cute, so sweet, leaning to place a simple kiss on his cheek.

“Of course, caro.”

Three more times, he had Feliciano four times in total that night, against the headboard of his bed, sideways, and had him riding lastly, in that very position falling against his chest, three in the morning when they decided to finally fall asleep, Ludwig so tired he couldn’t even stand for a shower, preferring to just hold Feliciano tight and let themselves drift together to dream.

Somehow they woke up in the shine of the morning, on the heaviness of a day Ludwig would lose Feliciano. The first thing they met as their eyes opened was their own gazes, with meeting smiles, new caresses…and new passionate heats. They were quick with reaching towards their lips, with hardening, with biting, licking, tongues swirling, continuous crashes of that softness that they never wanted to cease. Oh, Feliciano wanted him, for a full day to go at it again and again and again. He picked a condom from the package as he leaned down to take his penis into his mouth, licking, sucking and even rubbing with his hands, all having Ludwig begin new moans and bucks. In a break, he ripped the new one, beginning to place it on him, placing kisses down to the last of skin before it was completely covered. Feliciano didn’t waste time in mounting him, in rising enough to prepare him into his entrance, only a small amount of lube to enter in his hole. He was confident that he was slicked enough after the many times they did it in the night. He had it in him easy, the intrusion one now of ultimate bliss, that he welcomed with his own high moans as he adjusted, hands on his chest to balance himself, Ludwig extending his arms to grab his thighs, feeling on their creaminess, sending an assurance to start the movements he craved and Feliciano didn’t hesitate.

The rocking began, a hard one that messed the bed once again, that lost them in the wonder, moans released, Ludwig by know knowing just the spot to hit to drive Feliciano crazy in his rise and drop. Ludwig raised his legs to give Feliciano a better hold and rest, better to let himself harsh as he grasped tightly to his knees, head rolled, looking upward as if he was accepting heaven.

Of all the moments to receive a call.

Any other and Feliciano would have easily ignored it, continue on uncaring when he had these onslaughts. There was nothing else he wanted to give his attention to at the moment…but it was Lovino and they had decided he would take him to the airport, with his car having his luggage and everything. He reached for his cellphone from the bedside table, while leaning down his chest above Ludwig’s face, Ludwig taking the chance to lay kisses, to let his hands caress so endearingly sweet on his back, Feliciano shouting, but he had to bite it down as he accepted the call.

“Pronto?” He answered as normally as he could, rising once again to his sitting, eyes on nothing but on the shine of Ludwig’s eyes, all while continuing his movements.

“Hey, I’m about to head out to Ludwig’s place to pick you up, be ready and all that,” he warned.

“O-okay, wi-will do,” he tried to control his voice, although he couldn’t avoid how his face contorted in pure ecstasy, how he smashed himself more harshly unto Ludwig, the blond forcing himself to bite his lips to not come out with any moans that might reveal. This was not the position he wanted Lovino to suspect, even though it somehow made the situation hotter, Ludwig raising his hips more strongly, as if really testing Feliciano. No matter how he rolled his eyes, how he met those movements, how his grip on his knees turned tighter, Feliciano avoided all screams, all mewls, but he did leave out some huffs, some breaths, ones that surely Lovino would notice.

“Hey, are you all right? …Don’t tell me you’re crying with Mr. Hasselhoff over there,” Lovino still angered.

Feliciano wanted to laugh, but he only managed a smile in Ludwig’s direction, with quite a seductive wink that couldn’t make Ludwig hold that small groan.

“Oh yes, we’re really sad, sorry.” Harder slaps, pushes, Feliciano falling until he had one arm supporting him on the bed, only centimeters from Ludwig’s face, with a smile, hips continuing their banging.

Ludwig was incredibly tempted to ravage those lips that instant.

“Well pack it up and get going, I’ll be there in like fifteen minutes,”

“All right.” Feliciano hung up without another hesitation, letting the phone drop to the floor so he could focus instead on those impending thrusts, of screaming out before they finally crashed their lips, as harshened as the meet of their hips, hands on their rears pushing into the intensifying, into the growing of their sounds, into the bang of the bed against the wall.

With Feliciano keeping a last tightening hold of the headboard, he shouted out his release, Ludwig giving one last buck to give his own, joining in Feliciano’s screams, falling into the same heap that was common for every time they finished.

Oh god why did they have to say goodbye to this, to their naked holds, to caresses no matter the sweat that fell, even the sweet kiss they now shared.

A new rumbling in Feliciano’s phone, this time a text from Lovino saying that he was on his way and he would be there in a couple of minutes. They both jolted up and rushed, taking their shower together, fixing up their clothing and Feliciano dealing with a quick breakfast, not really enough after all the energy they used last night plus his still hurting hips.

Feliciano had just finished dealing with his hair when he heard the honk from Lovino’s car, of course impatient and hurrying. Feliciano sighed but knew they he had to, his being saddening, holding himself to the curtain of Ludwig’s window as a sort of way to keep him grounded there. Ludwig, now appropriately dressed, came forward, wrapping himself around his waist, kissing his shoulders, getting Feliciano exhilarated, with little huffs, a hand going to caress at his hair, savoring this. Another honk, elongated and annoying, interrupting, both defeated and knowing they had to apart.

Keeping a hold of their hands, Ludwig brought Feliciano over to the door, only a simple bag with last night’s clothes over his shoulder. The door was opened and Feliciano was out the threshold, but he turned to him, placing a hand over Ludwig’s chest, rubbing the area, looking up to him, taking that last gaze of those blue eyes in person, Ludwig letting his hand caress at his, taking the last of that softness there for him.

“Please come see me in Italy, and message me when you can. If you want, I can call you every night,” Feliciano wished hoping to make this more easygoing, filling it with more hope.

“I’ll send you all kinds of pictures of the dogs.”

“And what you bake?”

“Definitely.” To assure him he placed a kiss on his hand.

They came into an embrace, getting that warmth, that protection, that last familiar hold. A last kiss, longing for something more, but another honk reminded and Feliciano really did have to go before it got too late.

“I love you, so, so, so much,” Feliciano wanted to assure before leaving.

“And I love you as much,” Ludwig smiled, with one last little peck to his lips before Feliciano had to move away, never stopping his waving until he was taking the elevator down.

Ludwig heard him mount Lovino’s car, then driving on ahead fast…in speeds Ludwig was starting to think had been illegal.

He was gone, out, leaving his apartment empty and desolated, with no song, no passion and no light. Was this how things were going to be like from now on? Could he really just…cook, bake, take the dogs on their walk, work on some designs, continue on like it was any other day without Feliciano being a constant presence anymore? He dropped and slumped in the couch, for now accepted, but already missing that heat of his skin, that brush of any part of him over his own body, his voice, his topics, his smile. The dread had been so much that he hadn’t really stood from the sinking until he got a text from Feliciano reading: ‘Just about to board the plane. I’ll send you something once I land in Rome’ and three little hearts that added quite the sweetness.

He sighed, he would just have to deal, continue on, do what he could with only but messages like this to fill whatever needed presence of him.

In his mind he was already planning his visit to go see him, and so he would work to earn himself that chance.

‘Aww, Sasha adorable as always’

‘She’s a sweetie and she loved the Nussecke’

‘Now I want some Nussecke. I wish I could be babysitting with you~’ Feliciano truly pouted from his lean on the desk, going up the conversation to stare at the picture Ludwig sent him just a bit earlier.

It was of a little girl munching on the triangle treats, brown hair and face covered in flour as well as her shirt and jeans, but it did not cease her joy, her smile as she took it into her mouth.

She was the daughter of a neighbor from the apartment next to Ludwig’s, a single mother who constantly needed help with her daughter and Ludwig offered himself as a good babysitter. Feliciano never thought such a job would be so fitting to him, making him the more endearing and sweet, letting him blush the more at the pride that this man was his boyfriend.

It had been a year and a couple of months since they got into this relationship, months of this long distance, of missing one another heavily, of sad nights where they really wanted their embraces and closeness to relieve of whatever anxiousness, dread or load from their jobs.

Yes, Feliciano currently had the job he wanted, a great office, frames on his wall of his best projects, establishing and getting a known name in the city. The pay was great and more than enough to pay his living by himself even if Lovino was living in the city too, even had his own office in the very building. Everything was perfect…he just wished Ludwig could be a part of it as well, that he could finally visit him and spend those weeks they constantly planned and talked about. But then he would leave…and it would be the same repetition, the same suffering, the same longing and fault that left him crying in the nights already. Oh he loved Ludwig, he loved him so much and yes he would love to keep a hold of him for their entire lives, but he hated that they had to deal with their relationship like this, that they both could have such and amazing sweet moments on their own and they couldn’t be there to enjoy from them together.

‘I know you’re in your office, but can I call for a moment?’ He then texted.

Feliciano wasn’t really doing anything but dealing with some messages sent from the customers he worked for in the month. ‘Of course!’ In only seconds his phone was ringing with his call.

“Caro!” he greeted as dearly as always, just enough joy to lift him from his earlier sorrow.

“Liebling, how is everything?” Ludwig asked before anything.

“Oh, everything is going well. You know the Never Land theme I made for the Toselli kids?”

“Of course, it was spectacular. I showed it to others here in the company and they were heavily impressed. Now I’m trying to convince Gilbert not to buy a ship and stick it to his living room wall.” Ludwig rolled his eyes but Feliciano chuckled at the thought.

“They finally showed it to their kids, they sent me package of pictures of their reactions and it’s all adorable. They loved what I did and now I have new numbers of parents who want something similar for their own.” He was truly proud, excited to try new themes and bring more wonder to the living spaces of these kids.

“I’m very proud of you, and speaking of ships and Never Land, I think we should really start discussing my visit to see you.”

Feliciano jumped silently on his position, smiling wildly and ecstatic.

He was finally coming, he was finally coming!

“Yes, yes, yes, I want to be with you so badly. You have to see Rome! And we should go down to Sicily! Oh, oh! I have relatives that have a beautiful villa in the countryside, and we can go to Genoa too!”

Ludwig chuckled, not minding any of those mentionings at all.

“And then, and then, Germany! We can go see your family at Hannover, and I’ve always wanted to do a road trip around Bavaria!”

Ludwig could practically see the stars shinning around him. “I’m sure we’ll have the time. What’s the best time to visit?”

“It doesn’t matter! Come any time you want! I’ll reschedule projects if I have to!”

“How about right now?”

“Well if you can find a flight at this short notice, sure!”

“Actually I already went through my flight.”

Silence.

“Huh?”

“I think you should head out of your office.”

“Don’t tell me you just arrived to the airport! Luddy!” He hurriedly picked his car keys and headed straight to the door, ready to make his fast haste to pick him up.

“Actually…” Feliciano opened the door. “I’m right here.” With a proud smile, holding the phone still to his ear and surrounded by large luggage.

“Luddy!” Feliciano shouted, jumping head straight into his embrace, both dropping their phones to feel the caress of them after so long, that missed warmth, those scents familiar and non-changing, Feliciano not missing a chance to bury himself in it at the crook of his neck. He nuzzled him and Ludwig indulged in the form of his back, in the softness of his arm, placing an occasional kiss on his hair, until Feliciano raised his head and instantly had their lips meet, in enough of a melt to actually lean them down both to the floor, in the loss of everything but this. There was the luggage as obstacle but they somehow managed to lay somewhere between them, until they were laying upon one another as if they were in the privacy of their own beds.

“You’re here! You’re here! You’re here!” Feliciano kept shouting, not believing it still, holding him tighter, proving himself to this more real, and if it was a dream, maintaining himself in it for as long as he could.

“But-but-” he suddenly stood, sitting them and hoping that they could now talk appropriately. “When did you leave? How did you find the company? And why did you bring so many bags?”

“Last night. I called Lovino, he told me, convinced him to keep my visit a surprise, still couldn’t get him to pick me up, so I just took a taxi,” Ludwig shrugged it, helping Feliciano to get them both to stand once again. “As for why I have so many bags…well I wanted to tell you later but-”

“Hola! Estoy aqui y listo para la vitta bella!” Feliciano did not expect to see Antonio crashing in through the elevator with his own countless bags, waving ecstatically and making his way between them, surely to where Lovino’s lay.

“Antonio?”

“Um…” The elevator dinged once again with a group now, most not holding luggage, others with many as Antonio and Ludwig.

“I like our building better,” he recognized Neereja, there was also Gupta, Roshaun, João, Sadiq, Yong, Corisande, basically many who had been in the company.

“Um…what are they all doing here?” Feliciano asked, hoping that the question wasn’t rude, he was just curious.

“So um…I decided that the company should have a new base, so I opened a new one here…in Rome.”

Feliciano was frozen, letting that settle well, letting him realize. “You…you-you…seriously?”

Ludwig nodded eagerly.

“He really did,” Corisande assured.

“Hired many of us to make the move over here,” Gupta added.

“Right after you left he started working on this idea,” Roshaun.

“I wish my own significant would open up a new base just to be closer to me,” Sadiq dreamed.

“But I mean, a chance to work in Rome, Italy, who could deny that?” Yong exclaimed.

“The new place is three blocks from here, it’s still in the preparations, I actually suggested that they should just wait until everything was rightfully ready, but…” The elevator rang once again, yet another group coming, waving and greeting and making their space in the hall, filling it with all kinds of chatter now. “They were impatient, and most of them wanted to see you and-”

“Can we all crash at your place while we get our own?” Emil said squeezing himself between the crowds to greet others.

“How many came?” Feliciano wanted to know, seriously thinking how he was going to fit them all in his apartment.

“About…” Ludwig really tried to count how many he brought on his head.

“Twenty-seven!” Elizabeta shouted from her spot.

“Ludwig…I don’t think…”

Ludwig shushed him and leaned to whisper enough, “don’t worry, I got some contacts, three hostels to take them until then, but they’re still looking for an excuse to stay at your place.”

Feliciano took a breath of relief. He would drive himself crazy dealing with all these people, even if they had been once amazing co-workers.

“Well, we could all go out to eat?” He didn’t think he had enough groceries at home to feed them all, but they all chanted and celebrated at the chance.

“Are you paying?” Sadiq shouted.

“Haha! No!”

While all excited, all who had been downstairs reached up as well, Antonio and Lovino leaving the office hand in hand giving each other sweet smiles to join the rest. Feliciano pulled Ludwig away into a corner they could leave to themselves for a moment.

“So…you’re really moving here?” He had to really make sure.

“Yes, for as long as I’m able. I’m not going to let anything separate us now.” He raised his hand to leave a kiss to them, rubbing them in oath.

“But-but, what about your company back in America? And Gilbert, and your family?”

“I left it under new management, and Gilbert actually left back to Germany, got himself a good opportunity ther. He promised to come over here to visit. Germany is either a car ride, a train ride or a short flight away. I’m closer to my family than I was back in New Jersey. Honestly I didn’t care about the states, I was just there because of the offer I was given, but this one, it means more, with a perfect location, and you, you, you.” It was truly what excited him the most, the sureness that didn’t make Feliciano question this any longer, that just accepted his now staying presence with another strong hug, with sways, with laughter.

“Can we still plan that trip we were talking about?”

“Of course, we have a couple of days before we all start working here.”

“I still can’t believe it…Luddy….your Company is going to be my competition!” He laughed.

“I’m pretty confident in mine,” Ludwig dared smirk.

“Who knows, things can happen, maybe you’ll end up being my intern,” Feliciano teased.

“Hmm…” Ludwig leaned and whispered: “I assume that would be enough of a permission to make out in your office.” He had once been so shy and embarrassed about this, but now, it was all he wanted and could think about in his more heated moments.

Feliciano smirked in turn and leaned to whisper in his own ear: “We could do so much more than just make out.” He licked his cheek to signify enough of the implications.

Ludwig found himself wanting to act on them right now. It was deserving after having only dealt with pictures, naughty webcam chats and sexting. Then again…they were still out there, with a hall full of people that wanted to celebrate this beginning of a new opportunity.

“How about we leave that for tonight?” Ludwig smirked and Feliciano accepted, tippy toeing and leaving a kiss on his cheek.

Taking their hands, letting themselves be close finally, the touch of their waist fulfilling enough, they moved into the group to enjoy from the missed chats, from the missed environment that had granted Ludwig and Feliciano their love.

< previous chapter

#office sweet #gerita #gerita fanfiction #gerita fanfic #gerita fic

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fangirlandtheories · 7 years

Note

jazekiel prompt: Ezekiel used to/still does (up to you) self harm and Jake notices during the clown episode? (If that's an okay subject for you?)

#1. Thank you so much for such an amazing request Anon. #2. Sorry I took so long to write it.

Trigger Warning: Self Harm

long sleeves, fake smile.

Shut off love. Shut off happiness. Shut off truth and perfection. Shut off dreams, reality, and sanity. Shut off hope. Ezekiel Jones never intended to shut off feeling but it wasn’t something he could control. The awareness of how little his life meant crashed over him, daily, pulling him into his own mind like quick sand.

Ripped apart, limb by limb,

Shattering bones, heart caving in.

Self mutilation, scar after scar,

Empty and hollow,

Worn like tar.

It had began years before, when he was a teenager. He had watched his best friend, his partner at MI6, get shot. The girl wasn’t very fortunate. He wished it would’ve been a single shot to the head, rather than the five shots to the chest. She bled to death in his arms while he could do nothing to save her. Ezekiel knew that he should be sad, the only person he had trusted was gone. Instead he felt the deep web of nothingness. That’s why he did it the first time.

Technically the first time had been an accident. He had stumbled into his condo. He had tried to drown his numbness with alcohol, but it wasn’t doing much to help him. It made him forget, which was a sort of blessing. As he walked into his kitchen, he knocked a knife off the counter and tried to catch it. It sliced from the center of his palm to the inside knuckle of his ring finger. It was a red hot, steady pain. Excruciating. He liked it. To be fair, he liked feeling something. He wasn’t a fan of pain per se but it was better than dull nothingness.

He had grown since then and had sought out a new means to feeling fulfilled. The exhilaration of a heist outweighed the pain of a blade any day. The problem was that the heists had to be bigger, harder, more elaborate than before. As he grew more stronger in his theft abilities, he grew in confidence too. He was stealing things no one else had ever dared to. Oh the rush! He would be chased by guards every day of the week, wandering around all the wonders of the world, traversing and pillaging everywhere he went. It was a difficult life to lead. After a while, nothing was enough to fill the hole in his heart. Then came Cairo.

He had taken to traveling around the world to see famous museum exhibits, trying to take some of the most precious things. He had already earned a lot of fame and notoriety but this was the icing on the cake. At 16 years old he was considered a world class thief by the entire world of thieves. It was nice and all, but he was beginning to feel nothing again. He needed something new, something interesting to take his mind off his nightly routine with a razor blade. That was when he met Flynn.

He may be a world class thief but he still made some mistakes. One massive one was stealing from the mummy’s sarcophagus at the Cairo Museum. It was a weird memory that made more sense now. The mummy came to life and tried to kill a tourist, all to get back the gem that Ezekiel had pocketed. He remembered seeing some crazy professor fight it off, yelling about a library. Little did he know that just a few years later they’d meet again and that Ezekiel would actually work for the very same Library.

It had been two years since he started at the Library. Two years since the last…incident. He was fine. He was sure of it. Maybe he was even… happy. That feeling washed away one day and something entirely new took over. Whenever he had cut himself before, it was because he felt nothing. This was new. He cut himself now out of fear. Fear that he would cause their deaths. Fear that he grew too close to them, yet them not close to him. Fear of losing the one good break he ever had. He was never the same after that damn time loop.

His normal solution was to run, however, he loved them far too much to be able to leave them. He decided that hiding it behind long sleeves and a fake smile was his best option. He was doing a damn good job at hiding it too. That is, until he wasn’t.

The Amazing Mysterium, aka Kirby, had messed Ezekiel up. Not only did he take over his mind and control him, something terribly against Ezekiel’s morals, but he also was easy to trick. Ezekiel had a feeling the mission would end the way it did, but he never pictured that it would be him who delivered the final blow to the magician. He glanced over at Jake, who was staring at him oddly, but Ezekiel knew why. Jake had seen. Ezekiel was a shirtless snakecharmer and Jake had noticed. The others hadn’t, thank God, but Jake did. Nevertheless, Ezekiel did not want to deal with all of that at the moment. As soon as they got to the Annex, Ezekiel went home.

When he woke up the next morning, he expected the overwhelming surge of nothingness to hit him, which of course, it did. He wasn’t, however, expecting to find Jake reading a newspaper on his sofa.

“Did you break in here?” Ezekiel yawned at him.

“Yeah. I shut down your security system this morning.” Jake smirked.

“You… how?” Ezekiel whipped to face him, shock evident in his creased brow.

“I remember seeing you do it before so I just copied what you did.” Jake laughed at how surprised Ezekiel was.

“That… is actually kinda hot.” Ezekiel could feel his cheeks burning. “Anyways, what do you want?”

“Why do you have scars?” Jake cut straight to the chase.

“Wh-what?” Ezekiel wasn’t expecting him to be so blunt.

“Why do you have scars?” Jake repeated.

“I’ve been… fighting.” Ezekiel whispered. He wasn’t picturing this to be the conversation. He was supposed to have time to prepare a story. Time to wear his fake smile. Instead he shoved the mask on as quickly as possible, leaving it susceptible to slipping.

“Who against?” Jake asked gently.

“Myself.” Ezekiel couldn’t lie. He hated to lie more than anything. He was going to make up something about an actual battle but when he locked his brown eyes with Jake’s blue, he couldn’t bring himself to it. He caught the pity in Jake’s eye. “I’m fine.” He wanted to talk about it. He wanted to scream, to yell, to shout about it, yet all he could whisper was ‘I’m fine.’

“You don’t look fine.” Jake kept trying to break through.

“Then stop looking!” Ezekiel snapped. He rubbed his face with his hands, seeing the hurt expression on the art historian’s face. “Why is everything I do so… wrong?” He groaned, feeling the guilt for yelling at Jake.

“Your thoughts kill you, don’t they.” Jake asked, looking at the man who hung his head in quiet shame.

“You have no idea.” Ezekiel gave a humorless laugh, finally looking at Jake. “It’s been this way since I was a teenager. I thought I was getting better. I haven’t… I’ve just gotten better at hiding it.”

“What do you mean?” Jake asked.

“I mean… you guys think me stupid but I fake a smile everyday and you’re the ones who believe it.” His voice was hard and steely, full of emotion that was making it’s way to the surface, unable to stop.

“We don’t think you’re stupid.” Jake told him. “Just out of concern… when was the last time you…” He trailed off.

“It’s been happening on and off since I was 14. I would find something to fill that emptiness, but nothing was ever enough. I thought the Library would save me from myself but nothing has been the same since the Video Game. I’ve done it about 3 times since then.” He confessed. Jake had suspected that he remembered the loops.

“Doesn’t it… hurt?” Jake asked, genuinely curious.

“It does, but that’s the thing, I don’t care if it hurts, I just want to have control. When you spend so much time feeling nothing, feeling pain and having control is a relief.” His voice broke as he made direct eye contact with Jake. “I was trapped in that nightmare. Shaking. Trembling. Terrified. My nightmare didn’t happen just once though, it happened over and over and I was powerless to stop it. That is why I need control.”

“Ezekiel I’m so sorry.” Jake whispered, looking at him in awe. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“You actually care? Even though I’m completely broken?” Ezekiel asked quietly, while looking down at his lap.

Instead of answering right away, Jake leaned over and gave him a light kiss on the temple. “I care. I’ll always care.” He then whispered in Ezekiel’s ear. “Everyone is broken, they just like to pretend they’re not. It’s like a mask no one is willing to take off. Trust me, I would know.” Ezekiel gave a light smile, feeling slightly better after finally telling someone everything, before laying his head against Jake’s chest. “Ezekiel Jones, you’re so loved here. We will work through this together and be there for you, forever,”

For the first time in forever Ezekiel switched on his feelings. Switch on happiness. Switch on truth and perfection. Switch on dreams, reality, and sanity. Switch on hope. Switch on love.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope I did this request some justice. If you’d like to request more prompts, please come to my askbox at fangirlandtheories.tumblr.com. Also, if you yourself struggle with issues with self harm and would like to seek help, please call 1-877-953-8087. It’s free, nationwide, and open 24/7. These people can help you if you need it.

#The Librarians #Ezekiel Jones #Jake Stone #jazekiel #tw: self-injury #tw: self harm #self harm #This is honestly heartbreaking.#it was kinda difficult to write #i've experienced a lot of this #it threw me back into that mindset #But i wanted to write and finish this

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skittidyne · 7 years

Text

this is for @kaiyouchan and i won’t explain why

Kenma couldn’t really be called ‘awake’ just yet. The morning is still grey and drab, full of fog and dew, like the day is still in the same semi-conscious state the little witch is in.

Tetsurou has a lot of fondness for the quiet parts of the morning. There’s a ritual to it all, full of softness and silence, all of it drenched in familiarity. He’s never been able to replicate this kind of feeling with either of the tengu, not like this, not in the cottony parts of the morning, but that’s alright. Tetsurou hoards these mornings like precious gems.

Kenma gets out of bed usually on his own (usually spurred on by Midna), but that’s about as much as he’ll do without further provocation. Tetsurou likes to think that the cat is on his side; she’s already been fed by the time she drags Kenma out of bed, so there’s no real reason except to get him upright and out in the kitchen.

Tetsurou slides a bowl of fruit loops across the table as Kenma sits down. His eyes are still scrunched shut, nose a bit scrunched too, like the entire idea of consciousness still offends his dreaming mind. Kenma pours milk into his cereal with magic so he doesn’t have to move more than he must. It’s always best to give him a bit of sugar in the mornings, to help kickstart the waking process, Tetsurou has found. Cereal works as well as pancakes, if a little less fun to prepare.

Tetsurou sets his chin in his hands and happily watches Kenma try to feed himself. He himself isn’t hungry yet; he usually doesn’t eat until whenever lunch is, as much as that varies; Tetsurou has his own routines, and he prefers them that way, despite Keiji’s occasional nagging.

Kenma isn’t much more conscious by the time he’s worked through most of his breakfast. Tetsurou can only see a sliver of eye peer up at him, like he’s checking to make sure he’s present, before Kenma turns away again. His hair hasn’t quite grown out again, but it’s long enough to hide his eyes when he wants.

(Not right now, though. It’s still unruly from bed - and the night before - and Kenma hasn’t bothered to brush it yet. For everyone who says Tetsurou’s hair is a mess, he’d like to point them to Kenma some time.)

Kenma curls up on the couch, using Tetsurou as a pillow, and they both check the news and cat apps and email on Kenma’s phone. Tetsurou feeds the Neko Atsume cats for him, Kenma scrolls through news sites and taps out the accurate ones, and Kenma has dozed off again by the time Tetsurou is invested in a feel-good story about big cat cubs in an overseas zoo. The grey of the morning has turned to silver, then to bright pink and blue as the sun is well up over the horizon, but neither stir just yet. There’s no need yet.

Midna, yet again, is the one to decide Kenma’s schedule. She jumps down onto his stomach from the back of the couch with little remorse, making him oof and hiss in pain. She meows directly in his face.

“I think she says it’s morning time,” Tetsurou says quietly, not wanting to break the morning’s peace.

“She kept me up last night,” Kenma petulantly replies, “so I’m still tired. Brat.”

Midna meows again, then headbutts him, purring loudly. Tetsurou can’t help but chuckle. “It’s not her fault it stormed.”

“How did I end up with two babies about loud noises?”

“Hey, I’m good with thunder!”

“You’re both still bad with fireworks and gunshots.”

Tetsurou hums and doesn’t reply; Kenma certainly doesn’t push the issue. He’s never judged Tetsurou for that kind of thing, but neither will he shy from the topic, and it comes up from time to time without warning, like now. He doesn’t like to think about it.

“Sorry,” Kenma murmurs. From this angle, Tetsurou can’t see his eyes, but his mouth has a hint of a frown in the corners.

“You’re fine, you’re just cranky because your sleep was interrupted by a ball of fur and claws. Do I need to dress you too?” he coos. Kenma’s mouth immediately twists down into a scowl, but as he shifts around so he can glare up at Tetsurou, he knows the heavy bit has passed.

They may be into the talking portion of the morning, but it’s still soft at the edges.

They continue through their routine - Tetsurou does, Kenma goes along like a limp noodle. Speech doesn’t always equal ready for the day, and since there isn’t much on the plate for today, Tetsurou lets it slide. He kind of wishes his lazy days corresponded to Kenma’s, though. It’d be nice to lay around in bed and cuddle for an extra few hours, groggy and warm and extra affectionate.

Eventually, Tetsurou drags Kenma into something close to clothing. He still doesn’t really see the difference between sweatpants and pajama pants, but he trusts Kenma’s preference, and he himself likes wearing soft pants out and about, too. They haven’t been able to find a size that perfectly fits both his hips and his long legs, but they’re trying, and Tetsurou doesn’t matter the exposed ankles when it’s warm out.

It’s well past noon when they manage to leave. Kenma has pulled on that ridiculous hoodie with the pouch on the front that Tadashi had gotten him (as a joke, Tetsurou thinks, but he’d also given one to Suga, so maybe not) and Midna eagerly clambers in. It’s not as kangaroo-ish as Kei claims, but it’s still an overwhelmingly adorable sight. Kenma’s phone is full of pictures like this.

(Midna goes along with it because she doesn’t have to wear her harness if she stays in the pocket. Tetsurou doesn’t understand the connection between witch and familiar, but it results in a spectacularly well-trained animal, he’ll give them that.)

They walk instead of taking a broom or trying to squish onto the train. This way takes them through the shopping district, so while Tetsurou doesn’t know what’s on the list of today’s errands, he can guess. He window shops as they make their way toward the bookstore.

Tetsurou considers it a bad omen when they find the part timers standing outside the store.

Tadashi isn’t on shift, apparently, but Kei is, and his mood doesn’t seem to approve when he spots them. Not that that’s all that surprising or indicative of what’s going on inside, since that’s his default expression (disdain), but the others are worrisome. “Is Tadashi not here today?” Kenma asks as soon as they’re near enough. Midna pops her head out of the top of the pocket and the tall redheaded guy - Tetsurou thinks his name is Inuoka, or something, all he knows is that he’s the guy Tadashi accidentally turned into a werewolf - coos at her. She lays her ears flat and glares at him.

“He caught something, I guess?” the werewolf guy volunteers after a cheery little wave. “Tsukki’s filling in for him!”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I borrowed a book from Sugawara from him. Can you return it?” Kenma asks.

“Ah, Sugawara is actually...” Werepuppy makes a complicated hand gesture, seeming embarrassed, and Kei’s mood doesn’t improve, either.

“What trouble has he started now?” Tetsurou asks with a dramatic sigh. Kenma inclines his head toward the store, and Tetsurou steps around him to investigate in his stead.

Inside, he is surprised to see Suga here again. But more surprising than that is that that his beau is nowhere to be found. Yukie glances over to him, three sticks of pocky stuck in her mouth, and otherwise dismisses him. “Kuroo!” Suga calls as soon as he spots him, meaning Tetsurou can’t just back out of the store again. “Alright, you’re a neutral enough party. Settle something for us!”

Yukie slurps down the pocky like they’re noodles. He doesn’t want to know how. “He’s not exactly a neutral party,” she points out.

“We can’t use your coworkers, they’re too biased.”

“What about the little witch who summoned him? He doesn’t like you.”

“Now you’re just being rude,” Suga pouts. With a gesture and a running leap, he clambers up onto one of the bookshelves, peering over into the next aisle over.

Something breathes a jet of fire back at him.

“What the hell are you two up to in here?” Tetsurou groans.

Yukie swipes the pomegranate smoothie off of the countertop and slurps it loudly as she sidles around to stand at his side. Suga spares them both a particularly dirty look. “So, there’s like, a thing here, and Koushi thinks he gets rights to it? Even though it’s not his store and it’s my job to eat trespassing creatures.”

“Iwaizumi told me that Tooru told him that Kyoutani is missing a wrymling from his clinic. I’m not about to let her eat someone’s pet!”

“That’s quite the chain of events,” Tetsurou remarks.

“Also, it’s totally not a wyrmling,” Yukie adds with another slurp.

“I think I know a wyrmling when I see one.”

“It’s some kind of feral salamander.”

“It’s definitely a wyrmling!”

“It doesn’t have wings.”

“You can see the wing joints, it’s just missing them right now. I think I know what amputated wings look like,” Suga exclaims, exasperated, and peeks down into the aisle again. More fire.

“So you want me to guess at what this thing is?” Tetsurou asks, definitely not here for this kind of bickering.

“No, you need to decide who gets it! Do you want me to return this to some poor soul who lost their pet?” Suga demands.

“It’s setting the store on fire,” Yukie retorts. She finishes the smoothie with one last, extra loud slurp. (Tetsurou kind of wonders if hunger spirits are immune to things like brain freeze.) “Daichi would be ma-aa-ad,” she sings, taunting.

Suga gives her a baleful, kicked puppy look.

“Let’s see what this thing is,” Tetsurou breaks in, and he and Yukie sidle around bookshelves until he sees a squat, fat little reptile thing sitting in the middle of the aisle, happily gnawing on a selection of burnt romance novels.

Tetsurou has never seen a salamander before, and he’d only seen a wyrmling once, years ago.

“No clue, guys.”

Both Suga and Yukie groan.

“But I can help you catch it. I feel kinda bad for the books,” he adds.

It takes an ingenious (read: ridiculous) mixture of sleep soot (who knew that shit was flammable?), levitation, another smoothie, Suga’s coat, and Yukie’s stockings to tie it off before the thing is angrily swaddled and definitely doused. It squirms and squeaks wetly, looking particularly sorry for itself, if such mystery creatures are capable of that kind of thing.

And, because he’s good-hearted but stupid, Tetsurou stashes the thing under one arm and announced, “Alright, I’ll be taking this, then!”

“Huh?”

“We have to stop by the clinic later for Midna, so I can see if this little thing is the missing pet.”

“You just want to eat it yourself,” Yukie accuses with narrowed eyes. Even Suga looks like he agrees.

“That’s rude. I would never eat something that has the possibility of burning me from the inside-out.” If it’s not the pet, though, he thinks he may give it to Kei. He may have mellowed out on the spiritual diet front, but Tetsurou still feels the need to feed him whenever they see each other.

Not that they need to know he’s sniping this for such a reason.

“I’ll be calling Tooru later to check on that,” Suga says, relenting with a scowl.

“You do that. Oh - but Kenma has a book to return to you. We borrowed it from Tadashi awhile back.”

Suga trails him out of the store, to Yukie’s irritation. The part timers take in their sooty appearances and the angry reptile under Tetsurou’s arm, but none of them comment; with a shooing motion, they scurry back into the store to hopefully fix things before a less lax manager comes in to see the mess.

Kenma’s eyes fix onto the mystery creature. To Tetsurou’s disappointment, he doesn’t immediately identify it, or even comment on it. Instead, he holds out a battered old notebook in Suga’s direction.

“That little shit! I didn’t even know he had this!” Suga exclaims, affronted, and clutches at the notebook like he’s being reunited with something particularly valuable. It hadn’t even been that useful of a book. Kenma doesn’t comment, so neither does Tetsurou, though he does shift the angry little creature away from Kenma and Midna, just in case it decides to start spitting fire again.

After Suga leaves, and Kenma drags Tetsurou away from the bookstore before more can happen, Kenma quietly says, “You get into trouble a lot.”

“Nah, this is just another regular day.”

“Not really.”

“Sleepy morning, extra cuddles, running errands with a cat and running into magical mayhem? Yeah, it’s a normal day.”

“We have other, more normal days.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

Tetsurou grins, and tries not to laugh at Kenma’s face when he realizes they’ve lapsed into another one of their little arguments. He always does the scrunchy nose thing when he does. “We can try again tomorrow for a ‘normal’ day, whatever that means.”

“...Kay,” Kenma sighs, and reaches over to grab Tetsurou’s free hand. “Tomorrow, then.”

#bbac feelings #y'know just a day in the life

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