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ds-ts-smut-fics · 4 years

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Lovely Boys [Chapter Three]

Summary: Janus and Logan are both in love with Remus, it’s just a matter of who can convince Remus of their feelings first.

Trigger warnings: NSFW, real hardcore insecurity, not the healthiest habits, rough sex, being caught (kind of, they’re not walked in on), mention of abusive and negligent past exes who neglected proper BDSM rules, some very rude degrading self talk, sl*t as an endearing term, pretty heavy pet play, Janus is a brat

Genre: Hurt/Comfort smut (Sub Remus, dom Logan, switch Janus), intruloceit

Written by: Virgil & Claire

Edited by: Virgil

A/N: One more after this! It’s more of an epilogue. <3 Also! I’ve been having trouble with read mores lately, so pls lmk if it doesn’t show up ~Virgil

Remus’ hand was warm and soft in Janus’, and completely restless. Remus bounced excitedly. Janus was… In a sort of daze, not quite caught up with reality.

"Remus wanted to make a stop on the way, but…” Logan glanced over his shoulder at them. “If we're adding J, maybe a postpone on the collar, pet?"

He pouted. “O-okay…”

“Why postpone the collar?” Janus held Remus closer.

"You're okay with getting a collar for him, some toys? I didn't want to assume, but…" Logan nibbled his lips. Both of you in collars… Hands bound and waiting orders~

“Well, I certainly don’t like this look on his face.” Janus tapped Remus’ nose. “You want your collar tonight?”

Remus nodded sheepishly. “If that’s okay.”

"Very true…" Cupping Remus' face, he smiled. "If my pup wants a collar, a collar he shall have… Kiss?"

Remus kissed him excitedly, and pulled away quickly to throw open the door. “C’mon, c’mon, can we go?”

Chuckling, he nodded, offering Janus his arm. "Shall we, dear? The pup is anxious to go…"

Janus took his arm with a little, embarrassed nod. “Yes, I’m ready.”

"Good boy…" Patting the hand on his arm, he followed Remus out, offering the other hand to him.

Remus took his hand as Janus spluttered a bit, blushing. “That is not…”

Grinning, Logan winked. "Shhh… It's okay, J!"

Janus scowled and climbed into the backseat, letting Remus take the front.

Bending to steal a kiss, Logan sighed. "Janus… Did I say something wrong, dear?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged.

"I'm sorry…. How can I make it right?" Tapping the steering wheel, he sighed. I want you both happy, Janus.

“He’s just being a drama brat,” Remus giggled, “isn’t that right, Jan-Jan?”

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, face pink.

"Oh… You scared me a moment, Janus!!" A soft smile breaking, he sighed. "I don't want to lose either of my precious boys!"

They both blushed bright red, Remus squealing and kissing Logan’s knuckles, Janus scowling and looking out the window.

Turning to driving, he stroked Remus gently. "Should we get him something pretty too, Rem? You're getting a collar…"

“Yeah!” Remus turned back to grin at Janus, and Janus couldn’t help but return it. “You deserve something pretty, too, Jan!”

"Both of you pick whatever you want, okay? No kink shaming… Just love!" Grinning happily, he hummed as they made their way to the shop, parking the car.

“Yes, sir!” Remus giggled and grabbed Janus’ hand as they walked into the store.

Walking behind them, Logan grinned, coming up to take Janus' other hand. "Stay close to one of us at all times, my pup… I don't want to lose either of you."

“Good luck keeping him from wandering,” Janus chuckled. He reached out and grabbed Remus’ shirt as he got distracted by something, pulling Remus back to the group.

"Collar and leash set will certainly help…" Reaching out, he took Remus' hand.

Remus flushed deep red and glanced back at him. “Yeah?”

Janus shifted awkwardly and grinned. “What, do you like that idea, little pup?” Janus wasn’t actually surprised. He’d seen plenty of Remus’ magazines spread around the apartment.

"I think he likes the idea of someone else holding the reins… Would you heel for me if requested? Should we train you to commands~?" Stroking Remus' cheek, he kissed him softly.

Remus moaned softly, kissing him back. Janus tugged on the back of his shirt. “Let’s go look at the leashes,” he said eagerly.

One arm around Remus, Logan nodded, leading them over. "Indeed… Perhaps one for each of us? He can choose who he wants to guide him at that time?"

“God, you really do have money, huh?” Janus rubbed down Remus’ back. “Go on, go crazy.”

Remus wasted no time in obeying, rushing over to the selection and trying each of them.

Logan nodded as he watched. "I have quite enough to support all three of us, yes. What do you want, Janus?"

“I’m okay,” he said instantly. “I don’t need anything.”

Gently taking Janus by the chin, Logan hummed. "Tell me, baby? You've been so good… Let daddy get you a treat?"

Janus flushed deep red and looked away. He forced a little scoff. “Don’t patronize me. What happened to thinking I was too dominant for you?”

He pulled Janus into his arms, holding him gently. "The way you seem to want to melt into my arms and be protected… It makes me want to cuddle and protect you, give you everything that I can."

Janus hated that he said that, only because Janus did exactly that: Melt into his arms, nuzzle into his neck, all without his own permission.

“I’m not a sub,” he grumbled, but it wasn’t all too convincing. “You can try to collar me, but it won’t be easy.”

"I don't want to collar you, love… Remus needs it, the structure. You, you're a precious jewel because you want support but not control. We share~" Kissing his cheek, he hummed.

Janus shuddered. “I don’t need anything,” he mumbled.

“Janny! Look!” Remus bounded forward with two collars in hand and thrusted them out. “This one has spikes!”

Chuckling, Logan released Janus to let him coo over Remus, smiling. "Perhaps a dinner or just cuddling then, but do tell me if something does catch your eye, dear? Remus… Do you want them both, hun?"

He nodded excitedly. “This one for Janus!” He held up the spiked one, and the thrusted a soft velvet one in Logan’s direction. “And this one for you!” He practically vibrated with excitement as he whirled on Janus. “Which one are you getting?”

Janus faltered. “Uh…”

"He's getting the one that speaks to him, pet.. and that might not be in this shop." Stroking Remus, he smiled. "Which do you want, little one?"

Remus glanced between the two of them, and then decided his attention fully on Janus. “You’re not getting a collar?” He whined.

Janus hesitated. Remus stared up at him with wide, sad eyes. “Of course I’m getting a collar. Just waiting for Master here to pick one out.”

Remus immediately brightened up and put his in the basket, then rushed off to explore more.

Logan watched a moment before turning to Janus. "Do you want me to choose or are you just putting him off, lovely?"

“Just pick a collar,” he huffed.

Sliding an arm around Janus, he smiled, taking him to the faux leather section and picking up a black collar with a snake scale look and gold buckles. "I'd love to see you in this, baby~"

Janus blushed as he looked at the collar. “That looks pretty sick,” he mumbled.

"Classy and wild, just like you!" Stroking a thumb down Janus' cheek, he smiled, setting it in the basket.

“We should find Remus. Who knows what chaos he’s gotten himself into without supervision.” Janus looked away, but Logan didn’t miss the way he leaned into his touch.

Grinning, he nodded. "Of course, sweetheart… He was headed towards the paddles and crops."

Janus rolled his eyes with a fond laugh. “Of course he was.”

They found him staring at what may have been the most… Extra paddle Janus and Logan had ever seen in their lives. It looked like it could cause some real damage.

“Remus,” Janus said in concern, “have you ever actually engaged in pain play before?”

Remus looked at them with a blush and nodded. “Yeah!”

Janus crossed his arms over his chest, remembering Remus had never had aftercare before Logan. “Your partner hitting you in the middle of sex without negotiation first isn’t pain play.”

Remus’ smile faltered, just a bit. “Oh. Well, then no, not technically.”

Humming, Logan gave Remus a squeeze. "We can talk about what you like, okay, darling? Things like this can actually damage you if you're not careful, and you deserve to be safe even if you want a little hurt with the pleasure."

Remus frowned in confusion. “Damage… Isn’t that the point?”

Janus dragged his hands down his face and sucked in a breath. He peeked at Remus between his fingers, eyes narrowed and cold. “Do you still have your ex’s numbers in your phone? Their addresses?”

Sighing, his hand clenching, Logan frowns. "Pup… The cornerstones of play are safe, sane, and consensual… That's why we talk, and consent is so important. Pain is okay only if you want it. Same goes for marks, restraints, all of it."

“But… I want whatever you want,” Remus mumbled.

Janus grabbed Remus’ hand and tugged him away. “If you really want to try it, we’ll start with something small. And you have to swear you’ll safe word if you don’t like it. Got it?”

Remus kissed Janus on the corner of the mouth. “Okay!”

Turning to the display, Logan hummed, testing a smaller paddle, trusting Janus to talk sense into the pup. "My lovely boy, it's good that you trust your partner, but we need you to give us feedback in both the good and bad, okay?"

Remus nuzzled into Janus’ neck, who held him like Remus was some sort of hurt angel. “Yes, sir.”

“We don’t want to actually hurt you,” Janus murmured. “It would… It would break my heart if I put you through pain. Please don’t let us.”

Remus finally seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. He frowned and looked between the two, shrinking in on himself. “Okay. I won’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it wasn’t…”

Hugging him gently, Logan nodded. "It's okay, baby. You didn't know… We're so glad that you're safe, and we want to keep it that way, okay?"

Janus hugged him from the other side. "You're a good boy."

Remus let out a little squeak and covered his face. “I’m not… Not a good boy,” he said, flustered.

Logan nuzzled him. "We see you as a good boy, our sweet pup… Let us show you how good and lovely you are, honey?"

Remus buried his red face in Logan’s neck. His legs were wobbly. “Nng…”

“Oh,” Janus smirked, “maybe we should finish up shopping before there’s a problem.”

Laughing, Logan nodded. "Leash, pet bed… I'm thinking a tail and ear set and some padded socks for when he wants to be a four legged pup…"

Remus rubbed his legs together with a little whine. “Can I put the bed by your desk?”

Janus ruffled Remus’ hair and kissed his cheek, tugging him towards the pet play section.

"I'm thinking one by my desk and one in the kitchen by your bowls so you can watch one of us cook for you, pup… Sound good?" Smiling, Logan followed them with the basket.

He nodded excitedly. He squealed as Janus picked him up and settled him on his hip. He kissed Remus’ nose, suddenly very angry that he hadn’t been doing this the entire time. He pulled Remus in for a close kiss, and swallowed down the fact that he loved him.

Sighing, Logan took another picture. "My lovely boys…"

Janus blushed and glowered at him. “Put your phone down,” he snapped, while Remus giggled and nuzzled into him.

Winking, Logan grinned, coming over to kiss them both. "I'll send you the picture!"

Janus’s glare deepened, but he didn’t oppose. He set Remus down with a kiss to the top of his head. “Go pick out some things, baby boy.”

Remus wasted no time, excitedly perusing the selection, occasionally picking some things out.

Hugging Janus lightly, Logan smiled. "He's so happy…"

“I’ve never seen him this happy,” Janus admitted, trying not to sound frustrated.

"Because we're both here… And he's getting away from his toxic parents. I pushed and gave the way, but you got him here, sugar. Thank you." Kissing his cheek, he gave Janus a squeeze.

Janus rolled his eyes. “Don’t patronize me. It was all you, you don’t have to pretend.”

Tipping his face with a frown, Logan sighed. "I'm not patronizing. He was singing your praises while you were out today, telling me how you set schedules, made him healthy food, encouraged him to rest and study… You kept him alive, baby. I'm very grateful for your loving care of our boy!"

Janus shrugged a little, but didn’t deny it anymore. Remus came back with a basket full of equipment, grin spread ear to ear.

Attention shifting, Logan grinned. "Show us what you got, puppy?!"

Remus happily took them through the leashes he found, the puppy ears and little outfits, and the big, fluffy bed. Janus was hardly surprised to see he’d snuck some baby bottles in there, too.

Ruffling his hair, Logan praised him. "Such a good boy, going to be even cuter all dressed up for your masters!" Remus squealed and threw himself into Logan’s arms. Scooping him up, Logan chuckled softly. "Such a good puppy, yes you are!"

Remus kissed along his neck, shaking with happiness. He hunched his hips a little.

“We should get going,” Janus said with a grin.

"Mmm, probably right, pup needs a full reward…" He nuzzled Remus, giving his ass a squeeze.

Janus took the baskets and followed them to the register. Watching what Janus' gaze lingered on, Logan picks up a few more things, adding in nipple clamps that are adjustable and petting a black and yellow outfit for a moment.

"What's your size, J~?"

Both boys glanced back, and Janus’s face flushed red. “Right. Like I’ll let you make me look like a bumblebee.”

“Medium!” Remus said excitedly. “But he likes things bigger, so get him an extra large!”

Janus pressed his hand to his forehead.

Snickering, he moved his hand back to the deep blue outfit behind it, getting an extra large for Janus. "Good to know!"

“Would you knock it off?” He whispered as the clerk giggled at them. “I don’t need anything!”

Kissing Janus' cheek, Logan adds it to the pile anyway. "Ah, but I want to treat you… Even if you don't need it, wear it for me, baby~?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. “Fine.”

Logan grinned wider. "Thank you, honey… It just felt wrong not getting you treats too."

Janus got into the backseat with the bags as Logan and Remus once again claimed the front. His heart rate quickened as he realized they were going to Logan’s home, unknown territory. Janus wouldn’t have the upper hand anymore.

Smiling back, Logan started towards his home again. "Do you want separate rooms for now, dears? Your own spaces as well as shared ones?"

Janus grimaced. “That’d be fine.”

Remus pouted. “Do we have to?”

"You don't have to, lovely, and it's okay either way. Janus can have his own space and you can be in my room and both are valid, sweet pup!" Squeezing Remus' knee, he hummed.

As Remus kissed Logan’s cheek, Janus wrapped his arms around himself and stared out the window.

Logan glanced back. "Janus? What activities other than debate interest you, dear one?"

He shrugged. “I like theatre. Music. Makeup and clothes.”

Smiling softly, he nodded. "I have a few rooms that I haven't done anything with… I was planning to make Remus an art space, would you be interested in some interior design?"

Janus straightened up and barely repressed a smile. “I suppose.”

"Perfect! I want this to be our home… Not just mine." He grinned, turning towards his home, pointing out good restaurants and parks as they got closer.

Remus giggled gleefully as Janus smiled. “I should call my parents!” Remus squealed, and before anyone could stop him, he whipped his phone out and dialed, putting them on speaker.

"Oh my…" Logan frowned, looking for a place to pull over just in case.

"Remus, darling…” a bland voice crackled through the phone, “I hope you have some good news, I was just on my way out to the salon!"

“I do! Where’s Dad?” Remus vibrated with excitement.

"Out to golf… Is it important? Have you finally been attending classes? Your grades are abysmal… How will we ever find you a job, a wife— You're just so unfocussed!"

Janus bit his lip to bite back the scathing responses. Remus wilted a little. It was okay, they’ll be proud! “No, I’m dropping out! I have a boyfriend— Two boyfriends! One of them is rich!”

Janus dropped his head in his hands. Oh, boy.

Squeezing Remus' knee, Logan cleared his throat as she inhaled. "Indeed… You won't be needing to pay his expenses any longer, we shall provide for our dear Remus."

"Who is this?! YOU RELEASE YOUR CORRUPTING GRASP FROM MY BOY NOW!!"

"Look to the issues covering the spring gala, madam, I'm sure you'll figure it out…"

“Wait, wait- Tell her your name!” Remus said in panic. “Your last name, what’s your last name again? Tell her!”

Logan’s family was famous, and successful… Surely being with him was ‘presentable’ enough, right?

Smirking, Logan nodded. "I am Logan Taylor… And I am your son's boyfriend. I will protect and love this precious man as well as I am able."

"Taylor?! As in the corporation?! Remus Alexander Duke! What have you done…" She trailed off in shocked sputters.

“You’re…” Remus swallowed and blinked frantically. “You’re not… Proud?”

Janus seethed in the back seat. He couldn’t have expected her to be happy he was dropping out of college, but her reaction to Logan? More fear than excitement? Just how did she view her son?

"I am shocked… I… We— We had appointments for you to meet some girls. I thought you agreed with our plan, honey." She tried to be placating, gentle, though it was clear she was fuming.

“I told you I don’t like girls,” he mumbled sadly.

Janus lurched forward and snatched the phone. “If you want to talk to your son, it can wait until you learn to act like a mother. Bye.” Janus hung up and tossed the phone to the side, face red and hands shaking.

Logan tugged Remus into a hug. "I'm sorry, baby… Maybe she'll come around? Either way you have us, and we support you."

Remus sucked in a breath and buried his face in Logan’s shoulder. “I just… I thought this is what she wanted. Is this not…”

"I'm sure if I were a rich woman she'd be thrilled, my sweet pup… If I had to guess, she jumped to you blackmailing me or some nonsense because it's what she would do. Do you want to be mine on your own terms, baby? It's what's important to me, your happiness, and Janus' happiness… Not hers, not anyone else's." Petting down his back, he reached for Janus as well.

Janus held Logan’s hand with pursed lips. Remus nodded. “You make me happy.”

Smiling, Logan hummed. "Then let's be happy, together… She'll calm and accept us, or she won't. Maybe your father will be better?"

Remus shrugged. “She’s the laid back one. I don’t… Really wanna talk to my dad.”

Sighing softly, Logan nodded. "Mmm, I volunteer my parents for cuddles and extra support?"

Janus grimaced. “You like your parents?”

Smiling softly, he nodded. "Want me to call them? Try that announcement again?"

Remus huddled into himself and shrugged. “Sure.”

“You don’t have to,” Janus insisted.

"True… Home and cuddles first maybe?" Stroking Remus, he sighed. "Want to hold you…."

“Are we almost home?” He asked quietly.

Janus’ heart ached. He already saw Logan’s place as home? What about all the months they spent together in their apartment?

"We're halfway between the apartment and my house… Which home do you want, baby?" Stroking Remus' cheek, he sighed, giving Janus a sad look. Janus looked away uncomfortable.

Remus frowned. “I thought we were going to your house.”

"That is my home, yes… I was just… You were with Janus for quite some time, wasn't that home? Or is it more the person that makes it home…" Humming, he petted Remus softly.

Janus blushed. “Shut up, Logan.”

“I just want to be with both of you.” Remus sounded confused. “Did I say something wrong?”

"No, pet, just clarifying…" Stealing a kiss, he started driving again, taking them to his house and parking in the garage.

Janus hesitated, but Remus jumped out with so much excitement that he couldn’t help but follow, wrapping an arm around his waist. Remus was the sweetest, cutest boy Janus had ever met— He would do anything for him.

Giving them a soft hug, Logan smiles. "Welcome to my home… Now our home!"

When they got inside, Janus held Remus close and looked around warily.

Logan flicked the lights on, starting a small tour and offering a hand for support. "Main floor is all common spaces, kitchen, living room, a pair of small rooms I think will work for an art area perhaps as well as maybe another office for Janus to do school work? Upstairs is three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and my office…"

Janus scowled. “Why do you have a four bedroom house to yourself? How old are you?”

“Why not?” Remus asked excitedly. “If I had enough money, I’d buy a castle!”

Janus sighed.

Logan hummed. "I am 28, and I mainly bought it to be able to be close to business and school but have space to myself. Also, there's a nice backyard. I like to garden."

“A lot of space,” Janus grumbled.

"Well, yes… But I wanted to plan for a family. Being pan, and poly… I was expecting at least two partners and hopefully children." He blushed. "As an only child I wanted something different?"

Janus’ face went pink and Remus giggled, poking Janus’ tummy. “Ohh, you found Janny’s soft spot!”

"Hmm? Oh! The family or the garden space? I was planning for a future with this place…” Coming over, he stroked his pink face. "I want to share it with those I care about."

“I don’t have a soft spot,” Janus managed, trying not to lean into Logan’s touch.

“It’s both,” Remus said helpfully, cuddling into Janus’ back.

Humming, Logan shifted to hug them both. "I have a soft spot for you two so… Don't be shy, my dear?"

Janus just shrugged, hiding his face in Logan’s shoulder. Remus kissed the back of his neck, and he shivered.

"You're beautiful… both of you. Welcome home, my lovely boys."

Janus could have melted right there, trying not to show how desperately he wanted to hide in Logan’s arms and never come out, to hold Remus close and force him to believe he’s loved. Remus bounced behind him with naive excitement, squealing and cooing at Logan.

Shifting to better hold Janus, Logan grinned, tugging Remus in better so they can both cuddle him. "Mmm, to the couch, babies?"

Janus held back a groan and nodded weakly. Remus gripped their hands and bounced after Logan to the living room.

Nuzzling, Logan sighed softly. "Perfect… Get your collar for me, pup?"

Remus lit up. “Okay! I’ll get Jan-Jan’s, too!”

He was out the room before Janus could protest. Now left alone with Logan, he stiffened marginally and tilted his head away.

Humming, Logan rubbed the stiff back. "You don't have to wear it until you ask for it, baby… I respect your choices. You're not a sub, you're a switch, yes?"

Janus blanched. The idea of asking for it was… Not favorable. He hesitated on an answer. “I’ve never subbed before,” he settled on. “Didn’t think it’d ever…” Be an option, “cross my path.”

Nodding, he kept the hold light and gentle as he settled behind Janus on the couch. "Understood… I won't ask for more than you're willing to give. Even if it's just hugs and kisses as we share the ball of energy that is our puppy, I'm willing to just be your support, Janus."

Janus smiled a little— Remus always made him smile. He pretended Logan didn’t make him feel the same way.

He looked over his shoulder, forcing himself to meet Logan’s eyes. “I can give whatever you need me to.”

Stroking his cheek, Logan nodded. "Be honest with me… Don't hide yourself, or guess what you think I want. I wish for partners that I can care for but also tell me when I'm wrong?"

Janus swallowed and dropped his gaze. “I don’t know what I want,” he whispered. “I just want you to…”

Lightly lifting his head, Logan smiled. "Kiss me, be with me… We'll figure out the rest as we go?"

Janus barely let Logan finish his sentence before leaning in and kissing him softly, arms crossed over his chest. Cuddling him into his arms, Logan moaned softly into the kiss, curling protectively around Janus. Janus gripped onto his shoulders and pressed closer, biting back his own soft sounds of pleasure.

Stroking down his back, he hummed into the kiss, nibbling Janus' lips for entrance. More, want to taste you, baby~!

Janus immediately obeyed, mouth dropping open and pushing his tongue into Logan’s mouth. Gasping, he squeezed Janus' ass, grinding gently as he twined their tongues.

Janus pulled away just enough to whisper, “If you’re going to have me submit, it won’t be easy.”

Voice husky, he purred, taking Janus' head to kiss down his throat. "Mmm, I don't mind one bit, baby… You're worth it~!"

Janus bit back a groan, tipping his head back. “Good luck.”

Licking a stripe to his ear, he chuckled. "Thank you, baby~!"

Janus dug his fingers into Logan’s shoulders, dragging his nails down Logan’s back.

Chuckling, Logan nipped his ear softly. "Making you feel good, baby~?"

Janus gasped a bit. “Take a guess.” He tangled one of his hands in Logan’s hair, tugging hard.

Licking his ear, he nibbled it again, before moving back to his neck. "I think you like it when I go vampire on your neck, baby~!"

“Is that what you think?” Janus managed. He dragged one hand down Logan’s chest, his stomach.

"Mmm…. among other things~!" Gently guiding him to a wall, he pressed Janus against it, lifting him up for more kisses and nips.

Any leverage Janus had been working up to vanished as Logan lifted him up. He let out a groan through clenched teeth and wrapped his legs around Logan’s waist, gripping his shoulders for stability.

Smirking, he stroked his thighs, grinding lightly. "Mine… My pretty baby~!"

Janus whined and squeezed his eyes shut.

Kissing his face softly, he hummed. "Look at me, darling one?"”

Janus cracked his eyes open, and met Remus’ eyes over Logan’s shoulder. Embarrassment curdled deep in Janus’ stomach and he almost made Logan put him down, but the way Remus stared at them, holding their collars, like Logan and Janus was everything he’d ever been waiting for—

He flicked his bleary gaze to Logan.

Cupping his face gently like he's memorizing every line, he hummed. "Don't be ashamed… I want you to feel good in my care, love~!"

Remus bounced over to them with a grin. He kissed Janus’s red cheek. “I have the collars! And my leash.” He smiled cutely.

Letting Janus slide down, he stole a deep kiss before taking Remus' face to kiss him as well. Remus giggled against his lips and kissed him back impatiently, and then pulled away and thrusted out the collars.

Taking them, he chuckled. "Eager pup… Kneel, my dear pet?"

Remus dropped to his knees hard enough for Janus to wince, looking up at the both of them with wide, shining eyes.

"Slower next time, puppy… No hurting yourself, hmm?" Cupping the eager face, he gently tipped his head and settled the collar on, snapping it into place and adding the leash.

Remus rubbed his fingers against the collar with a grin. “Jan-Jan?” He held out Janus’ with a hopeful smile.

Taking Janus' hand, he squeezed. "As you please, baby… Your choice."

Janus crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled, “You can do what you want,” but Logan didn’t miss the way he tilted his head back and presented his purpling throat.

Sliding a finger under the offered neck, he smiled, sliding the collar slowly around, giving time to back away. "Mmm, thank you, baby~!"

Janus felt the collar in a more tentative fashion than Remus did, his eyes lidded. He shakily dropped to his knees.

Petting them both, he encouraged them to lean. "There's my babies… I've got you, safe and sound."

Janus had to remind himself that it was just the two of them there, that no one could see him… Acting like this. He leaned into Logan’s touch while Remus giggled beside him.

"Only like this for me, baby… Just relax, let me care for you today, hmm?" Cupping the tenser face, he rubbed behind Remus' ears.

“Yeah,” Janus whispered as Remus melted and whined into Logan’s touch, “I’ll try.”

"That's all I want, little one… How about you curl up in the couch blankets, get them all ready and I'll get pup his knee socks, ears, and tail?"

Remus perked up, and Janus nodded, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest. He stole the remote and curled up in the corner of the couch, stealing all the blankets, and finding his favourite show. Remus followed Logan excitedly.

Smiling, Logan scooped him up, making for the bags and settling the pup next to the table. "Strip, pet… Then lean over the table for your tail!"

Janus’ eyes widened and his face flushed. He pushed out the thought that he’s going to see Remus naked— Remus himself didn’t seem too shy. He did exactly as Logan asked, clothes flinging everywhere, and bent himself over the table. Janus kept his gaze firmly on the T.V.

Stroking his boy, he hummed, rubbing some lube into his hole as he started to stretch him for the plug. "Such a messy boy… You'll be picking that up with your teeth and making a pile under the table afterwards, pup."

Remus whined and started to protest, but Janus cleared his throat. He flicked his gaze to Remus for just a second, shifted under the blankets, and looked back at the T.V as he said, “Puppies don’t speak, unless I’m mistaken.”

"Quite correct. Pups may whine, bark, yip, howl, or growl… But no words, are we understood, my slutty little bitch~?"

“What’s your colour in regards to that, darling?” Janus asked, barely managing to keep his gaze away.

“Green,” Remus squeaked, eyes wide.

Smiling, Logan worked him with two fingers, humming. "That's a good pup…"

Remus whined and whimpered, thrusting back against him. Janus couldn’t tear his gaze away anymore; he took in all of Remus’ beautiful form, everything he’d been wanting to see for so long, and hunched his hips even as guilt settled in his stomach.

Humming, he beckoned Janus over. "Baby? Can you get me his ears?"

Janus hesitated. There was no way he could get up without them noticing how hard he was. “Get them yourself,” he said and moved his gaze back to the T.V.

"Come here, baby… Or I'll send pup to you. Maybe he can help you with your problem~?"

“I don’t have a problem,” he snapped. “Get it yourself.”

Settling the tail plug in, he hummed, sliding the padded socks into place. "Well, then… His mouth is amazing though~!"

Janus ignored him, face bright red as he burrowed further in the blankets. Snapping softly to get Remus to kneel again, Logan dressed him in green lingerie and set the ears in place, before whispering something to him. Remus grinned and bounded over to the couch. He leapt up and Janus yelped as Remus landed in his lap. He curled up and nuzzled his head into Janus’ tummy, who very, very slowly rested his hands on Remus’ arm and head. Remus nuzzled into him for pets, and Janus felt like he was going to explode.

Grinning Logan came over to watch. "Isn't he adorable?"

“Mhm.” Janus’ voice was strangled.

Remus whimpered and looked up at him with wide eyes. Janus brushed Remus’ hair back tentatively, and Remus smiled and nuzzled into his palm.

"Go on, pup… Make him feel even better~!"

Remus eagerly tugged at the blankets, Janus tensing. Remus stopped with his hands on Janus’ pants and frowned up at him.

“Colour?” Remus asked softly.

Janus melted a little. “You really want to do this?” Remus nodded. “...Green.”

Remus smiled and unbuttoned Janus’s pants, yanking them down the best he could before ducking his head. Janus let out a choked whine and tipped his head back.

"Good boys…" Smiling proudly, Logan leaned in and stroked Janus' face, kissing his cheek.

Any guilt Janus had felt melted away as Remus sucked his cock eagerly, and he leaned into Logan’s touch. “Remus,” Janus panted, bucking his hips.

"Just give his hair a tug when you're close… He likes to swallow, but also likes being painted~!" Rubbing at Janus' shoulders and face, he kissed more. "Watch him~!"

Just the thought of covering Remus in his come, marking him as Janus’, had him tangling his fingers in Remus’ hair and tugging hard. Remus whined and pulled off half way just in time for Janus to come, half in his mouth and half over his nose and cheek.

Janus whimpered as he stared down at Remus with lidded eyes. He only felt so incredible for a moment before the guilt crept back in.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Janus whispered, frantically wiping away his come. “Use your words.”

“I’m okay!” Remus laughed kind of nervously, and grabbed one of Janus’ hands. “I’m okay. Master’s right, I like it. That was really fun!”

Taking one of Janus' hands, Logan hummed, licking it clean. "It's okay, baby…"

Janus shuddered, slipping his fingers into Logan’s mouth. Remus curled back up happily, not bothering to tuck Janus’ cock back away as he nuzzled into Janus’ stomach.

"Mmm, so delicious, baby… Almost jealous of the pup~!" Licking and sucking, Logan grinned.

Janus groaned and laid back, letting Logan do what he will with his fingers as Remus practically purred in his lap. He felt like he was in a dream. There was no way this was real.

Logan nibbled his palm. "Happy, baby~?"

He nodded dazily, and made a vague sound of agreement.

Stealing another kiss, Logan slid onto the couch, petting their pup and he kissed Janus deeply, content. Janus kissed him back with a sigh, fingers raking through Remus’ hair.

Smiling, Logan tucked Janus closer, stroking down his chest lightly. Mmm, my beautiful babies!

“I never thought I’d be here with you,” Janus mumbled, and after a moment of hesitation, “or him.” Remus had fallen asleep, snoring quietly and gripping onto Janus’s shirt.

"Mmm, same… But here we are and isn't it lovely?" Kissing Janus on the forehead, he smiled softly.

Janus squeezed his eyes shut as they welled with tears. “I’m sorry I… Acted, how I did. I was… Jealous. And upset.”

Petting him gently, he hushed Janus. "Baby, it's okay…. Really, it is."

Janus wiped his eyes and looked up, trying to keep his tears in. “I don’t deserve you two. Remus is… He’s so good, and you…”

Nuzzling, he hummed. "Baby, you're good, too. So good. One of the only people to out debate me, ever… You're a handsome, strong… Amazing man. I am lucky to have you and Remus at my side, baby!"

“You had to go through hell to get through to us,” Janus laughed weakly. “We’re both so stupid. You’re sure it was worth your energy?”

Nodding, he smiled. "So worth it… I would have no others at my side~!"

Janus kissed him softly. “Hopefully that lasts.”

Humming into the kiss, he nodded. "I want this to last, too… But even if something pulls us from a romantic relationship… I will always be your friend and supporter, Janus."

Janus wiped his eyes roughly. “Shut up,” he snapped.

Voice soft and fond, he hummed, taking his chin. "Never. I do not like falsehoods… Especially when it's about someone I love."

“You don’t love me,” he scoffed, pressing their foreheads together. “You barely know me. This whole thing…” He laughed wetly, “is ridiculous.”

"I am not in love with you yet, but I care for you deeply. I know that you are someone I want in my life, to get to know. Please let me care for you, Janus?" Touching the collar lightly, he smiled. "This is my promise, you are wanted. You are special and I want to date you. Your problems are mine, let me assist you with them. My arms are yours… Come to me when you have need or desire and I will catch you."

Part of him still believed this was some trick, that neither of them actually wanted him and they were putting him on. It probably wasn’t true, but if it was… Janus wasn’t so sure he cared.

He leaned into Logan’s touch and nodded, eyes fluttering closed. Stroking his hair, Logan sighed happily as they fell asleep in a cuddle pile.

Also a reminder that Virgil does smut commissions, each coffee equals 300 words

#remus sanders #sympathetic remus #janus sanders #sympathetic janus #sympathetic deceit #logan sanders #intruloceit #intrulogical #dukeceit #not safe for sanders #lovely boys #ds writes #dom logan #sub remus #dom janus #sub janus #switch janus #lmk if i missed any tags

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Soulbonds and Fairy Dust

TITLE: Soulbonds and Fairy Dust (rewrite) CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 9/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine one of the fae has been helping the Avengers, jumping in to help them on missions and vanishing before Shield can bring her in. Loki joins the team and convinces her to come talk to the team and consider joining before Shield takes more drastic measures. RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: This is a rewrite of the original work of the same name. Also on AO3 here

Sigyn took a moment as she entered the palace to use magic to change her clothes to an Asgardian style dress so she didn’t stand out as much. She was remembering more of her memories just by being home and knew automatically what the dress needed to look like in order to fit in. She made sure the green lines of power on her arm were covered when she did. Loki was so uncomfortable with what had happened that she was certain that he was going to reject the bond, going to reject her.

Even though she could see the bond was shimmering between the marks on her skin and the marks on his. She could see the soul binding. It was part of her nature to see such things after all.

Loki strode with such speed that Sig and Thor had to rush to keep up with him. They finally reached Frigga’s suite and Loki knocked, waiting for someone to answer for once instead of just barging in. Sigyn remembered that they used to just barge in. She remembered this place and these people. Now that shew as home, she was remembering her life there.

Frigga opened the door herself for them. Apparently they were expected. “Come in, darlings,” she bid the three of them, noting Loki’s fear and anxiety etched clearly on his face. She reached up to touch his cheek reassuringly.

He gave her a warm loving smile and pulled her into a hug. Mama’s boy never changed, no matter what was going on in his life. Sig couldn’t help smiling at the familiar old gesture. “It’s alright, darling. Whatever it is, it’s alright,” Frigga reassured him as she hugged him back. Whatever it was, whatever was wrong, it couldn’t be worse than her son coming home in chains because of a crime he didn’t choose to commit.

Loki released Frigga and showed her the spirals of power on his arm. “Have you seen anything like this before?” The purple lines radiated power as they spiraled up his arm, glowing softly with the new soulbond.

Frigga gave him a warm smile while Thor and Sig watched on, anxious for her response. “Of course I have, darling,” she told him gently and led her three children, Sigyn included in that count, into her sitting room proper so they could all discuss the matter. She also took the opportunity to say hello to her other son and kiss his cheek and to welcome Sig back to Asgard. She noted the green swirls of power on the back of Sig’s hand, which she hadn’t been able to cover with her sleeve. She wasn’t surprised that Sigyn was Loki’s soulbond.

Frigga turned to Loki once her three children were all seated on various couches and chairs around her sitting room with tea. She let the illusion fade from her own arm where light and dark gold lines of power swirled together from her hand up her arm. “It is a soulbond, darling. The mark of soulmates,” she told Loki gently. She knew that he knew what it was. He just needed the confirmation. He needed the truth. She hoped her suspicion that Loki would demand the soulbond be broken was unfounded. She watched his brows furrow while he thought over the implications and she waited patiently, sipping on her tea.

Loki didn’t think he deserved a soulmate, or that he would ever have one, or find her if he did have one. “I actually have a soul mate? Me?” The disbelief was obvious in his voice and Frigga suddenly knew the problem. He didn’t think he was worthy of a soulmate, not after the alien invasion, not after the things he’d done.

“Yes, darling. That is the only cause for those marks,” Frigga replied gently. She didn’t want to hurt her son.

Loki was in absolute shock. They were all in shock as soulbonds weren’t the most common of things, even on Asgard. Though the royal family tended to have more than their fair share of them. Loki never thought he deserved one, not after all the mistakes he’d made. Again, Frigga waited patiently for Loki to digest that piece of information and for his brain to start working again.

“What does this mean, Mother?” He asked, sounding like a small boy in his demand for answers. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind around all of this.

“It means that Lady Sigyn is your soulmate,” she told him patiently. She hesitated, but continued. “The soulbond increases both of your magic, plus increases things like your telepathic bond to the other. There are other perks of course. Though the bond does have one catch,” she paused again and waited to be sure she had all three of their attention before she would continue. “If one half of a soulbond dies, so does the other,”

Loki did not at all like the sound of that. Thanos was still a threat looming over his head and he fully expected that threat to come back. He didn’t want to risk Sig’s life. He didn’t want her life in the balance if Thanos came calling again.

Frigga read the expressions flashing on his face and waited for his conclusion, or more questions. She also noted Sigyn’s expression. Sigyn was sitting just out of Loki’s ability to see she and she was excited at the prospect of having a home in someone, though she was also wary that Loki was going to break the soulbond. Frigga was observant, and knew her son well, so she spoke again. “Thor, why don’t she take Lady Sigyn and show her to her suite. It’s the same one she had as a child,” Frigga ordered, dismissing them both. Loki wouldn’t talk to her candidly in front of witnesses, even witnesses like his brother and soulmate. And he needed to be able to speak candidly.

“Yes, Mother,” Thor replied and offered Sigyn a hand. The two of them left quickly, though Sig glanced worriedly back at Loki before she left. She wouldn’t disobey Mama Frigga, though and agreed to be escorted by Thor. None of them would dare disobey Mama Frigga.

Frigga turned her attention back to Loki when Sigyn and Thor had gone. “You seem displeased by this news,” she started gently once they were alone.

“I’m still in danger, Mother. Being on Midgard doesn’t change that. The news you just gave me makes it dangerous for Sigyn to be bonded to me,” Loki told her, speaking his concerns. Frigga knew about Thanos and the truth of why he had led the alien invasion on New York.

“There is always danger surrounding us, my darling. That does not mean we should abandon happiness when we can find it, simply due to fear. And you are currently bonded to Sigyn,” she reminded him. Her voice and tone were as gentle and kind as usual.

His heart broke when he asked the question that he needed answered. “Is there any way we can remove it? I don’t want to put her in danger. I don’t want to bind her to a monster,” he hesitated before he admitted the rest. “I love her too much!”

“You are no monster,” Frigga snapped at him firmly with a mother’s conviction. Loki gave her a small smile at her automatic dismissal of his self-pity. It was definitely a mother’s reaction. Frigga sighed. “It can be removed. If that is truly what you wish…"

Loki sighed. He didn’t agree with Frigga saying he wasn’t a monster, but she was his mother and that was her job. “I don’t know…” he put his head in his hands, frustration evident and rolling off of him in waves. “I’ve never dealt with something like this before. I love her. I have since we were children. And yes, I need to become acquainted with the woman she’s become. But I don’t want her in danger or tied to a monster for eternity, either!”

Frigga moved to sit next to him on the couch and pulled him into her arms, letting him rest his head on her shoulder, just as she had when he was a child and needed comfort. “Of course you have never dealt with anything like this, before,” she told him gently and stroked his hair. “But can you really live with never touching her again? That would be the cost of breaking the bond,”

Loki shook his head emphatically. “I don’t think I could live with that,” he told her softly.

“Then you will have to learn to live with the bond, darling. I know it’s difficult being told you’re soulmates when you just found her again, but can you really imagine life without her now that you have her back?” Frigga asked just as gently, guiding him to the answer that would make him happiest.

Loki shook his head again. “I thought she was dead. I mourned her for centuries. I never really believed I would ever see her again. I can’t give her up now that I finally have her back,” he said with conviction in his tone. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, lose her again.

“We all believed her dead,” Frigga stroked his hair while she held him in her arms. “I can break the bond if that’s truly what you wish, or you can treat that girl like the most precious thing in your life, earn her love, and finally find the happiness you have been missing since she was taken from us,”

Loki wrapped his arms around Frigga. “I will do my best,” he promised her after a moment. It only took a moment. He knew what he wanted, but it was still hard. He couldn’t give up Sig. Not again. “I’ve never had someone really care for me besides you and her. It will be an adjustment,”

Frigga hugged him tighter and smiled warmly. “She did care for you. Even as children. Or do you really expect me to believe that the incident with the bilgesnipe was her fault?” Sig had lied and claimed that incident so Loki wouldn’t get into even more trouble, since he’d been grounded at the time.

That drew a laugh from Loki. “You always could see right through me, Mother,” he told her warmly.

“I am her mother of course I can,” she told him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You will be fine, my darling. A soulbond is a heavy responsibility, yes, but the easy way out of it would just hurt you both,” she reminded him. “I will have the texts pertaining to soulbonds sent to her chambers. In the meantime, don’t you have a lady to reassure of you affections?” She teased. She’d seen how Loki had been acting since he came home and he would have to reassure Sigyn that he cared for her and make it up to her.

Loki nodded and released Frigga, kissing her on the cheek. “Thank you, Mother,”

“Anytime, my darling,” she told him warmly and saw him out of her suite.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #soulbonds and fairy dust #chapter 9 #rewrite #nekoamamori

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starberrywrites-ships · 4 years

Text

The Side Of Paradise

Linhardt x Bernadetta

Based on the song: The Side Of Paradise by Coyote Theory

"So if you're lonely, no need to show me, If you're lonely come be lonely with me"

Read on AO3: HERE

Ask me why my heart's inside my throat

I've never been in love, I've been alone

Feel like I've been living life asleep

Love so strong it makes me feel so weak

Linhardt isn’t the most affectionate person if you will. It’s not as if he wasn’t exposed to such treatment growing up. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. His parents were very expressive in showing their appreciation to each other. It never bothered Linhardt, he just thought it wasn’t something that needed his attention. Linhardt is blunt, and straight to the point. He’s a realist, having to constantly make sure Caspar didn’t get himself killed while also spending every day reading, collecting notes about crests.

Crests. They have always been fascinating to Linhardt. Capturing his attention the moment he saw his own father doing research. Linhardt first started with the crest easily accessible. His own. The crest of Cethleann. A symbol of kindness and mastery of light. Ironically, Linhardt sees himself as the opposite. Being nice to those who aren’t worthy seems like too much work. And he thinks of himself as a mediocre healer, especially for someone who hates blood.

Living out a proper childhood? He was too busy. He found his passion early on in life. Quickly learning he didn’t need anyone else. And he was fine with it. He liked being alone.

(Are you lonely?) Our fingers dancing when they meet.

It was the Imperial year 1180. The year Linhardt was enrolled in the Officers Academy. At first, it seemed like a bother to him. Having to be around people more often than what he was used to? Not his favourite. But, the pros outweigh the cons. There was a whole library in this monastery, probably full of material Linhardt has never laid his hands on before. Not to mention, being able to research his classmates and their crests in certain scenarios? It was like a dream come true. Sure, the actual reason for going like training seemed important and all, but not really Linhardt’s concern.

Upon arrival, the first thing Linhardt did was dump all his books out. Most of his strength comes from hollering all those heavy books around. Asking for help was too much work. He would rather do things on his own than be in debt to someone else. It might seem selfish but that’s simply how he works.

Finally getting everything in his room. He let out a sigh, plopping himself on the bed. 10 moons. Linhardt will spend 10 moons at this academy, growing his skills, his knowledge, and maybe, even his relationship with others.

You seem so lonely (Are you lonely?)

I'll be the only dream you seek

Byleth, a recruited mercenary. Linhardt will admit, he was slightly disappointed. He wanted Hanneman as a professor. He had to set a reputation. In order to get the freest time to study, Linhardt’s first impression will be rude, uninterested, and sleepy. While being sleepy isn’t entirely a lie. It is true, if it was up to him, he would be spending his days sleeping. But sleeping means taking up time, and he finds time precious. He can’t just let it go to waste.

While pretending to be asleep on the floor, he watched as one of his housemates run out of the classroom. It seemed as if she’s not one to like people either. Although, she deals with it much more chaotically. It grabbed his attention.

Maybe she has a crest.

So if you're lonely, no need to show me, If you're lonely come be lonely with me

Bernadetta von Varley. The eldest daughter of Count Varley’s. Heir to House Varley, responsible for religious aspects within the Empire. And best of all, bearer of the Crest of Indech. She definitely was an interesting character. Always the first in class, and yet the first one out. Clearly very skilled in a bow, a factor of her crest. The only problem was, it was difficult to speak with her.

She was fast. Spent most of her time within her dorm walls. It was difficult to find her outside of her room without the presence of the professor. But Linhardt did notice a few things. Dining hall, greenhouse, library. All these places seemed to be Bernadetta’s favourite spots to be.

She was the only one who Linhardt hasn’t bothered yet. She was something else, so he spent his days in these areas for the small chance of being able to catch her and talk. He has had lunch with her before. But he saw how anxious she looked. Sitting on the edge of her chair practically waiting for the moment she can escape. So, Linhardt doesn’t mention anything. He can wait until she’s comfortable.

Lonely (Are you lonely?)

Passion is crashing as we speak

She paints. Linhardt learned this.

He wanted a change of scenery. Reading in his room just wasn’t doing it for him. So he went out and searched for a quiet place to read. It just so happened, he found Bernadetta in the same place. She began screaming and freaking out, stating how if she’s in his way, she can leave. A sense of guilt built up in Linhardt. Simply saying she is not a bother and can stay.

You would think Linhardt would use this opportunity to ask her a few questions. But he came to read. And besides, she looked peaceful. The two continued keeping themselves entertained. No words were exchanged for a bit.

Unfortunately, Linhardt has no filter. Showing Bernadetta a sense of admiration. Something she definitely didn’t want.

You seem so lonely (Are you lonely?)

You're the ground my feet won't reach

Once again, the two were together. It seemed to become a common thing for the two. If he was being honest, Linhardt completely forgot his objective. It seemed to spend time with Bernadetta, even with the silence, which was much more fascinating than her crest. She was fascinating. And Linhardt found himself wanting to learn more.

His approach to this was being honest. Usually, he keeps his mouth shut. But he wants to help and show Bernadetta he is willing to be blunt with her. Most people see her as weak, but he sees something else.

What he did not see happening, was her panicking the moment he spoke up about how using crimson, her original approach would have made the painting better. Linhardt saw it as a compliment. He made an error, something that would have been avoided if Bernadetta stayed true to her artistic view.

The fact she saw it as an insult, going on and on about how she must break her brushes, burn the art and never paint again. Linhardt was shocked, to say the least, perhaps, being honest isn’t the best approach. He felt saddened watching her run away.

So if you're lonely, Darling you're glowing If you're lonely come be lonely with me

The year is now 1185. The war had been going on for five years now. The whole process seemed so bizarre to Linhardt. He’s not a fighter. His fear of blood proves as a weakness on the battlefield. With the professor back after their disappearance during the attack on Garreg Mach, he has been feeling better. With Byleth’s help, he knows they will help lead Edelgard and the other Black Eagles to victory.

Life seemed so sacred now. Linhardt didn’t know if he would live to see another moon. The idea of it terrified him so. Would he really fall on the battlefield? All his research for years just, gone to waste? He couldn’t let that happen. He had something to live for. Something to keep growing stronger for. Or, more like, someone.

Looking back on his Academy self, Linhardt realized something. In class, during training and on missions, in the dining hall, before he slept and while doing research. His mind was thinking of Bernadetta.

How could he have been so stupid? Granted, Linhardt never would have wanted to imagine himself in a relationship. From his perspective, it seemed only crests were important. But lately, he’s been finding himself wanting to do better. Wanting something more.

Wanting her love.

Underneath the pale moonlight

Dreaming of a circus life

Carousels and Ferris heights

I'll be yours if you'll be mine

There was no way he was just going to say it. They’re in the middle of a war dammit. No one is sure of their fate. Linhardt decided to enjoy every moment he got instead. And luckily, he got many moments. Going out into the field. He was thrilled to find Bernadetta there painting. It reminded him how rude he was in the past, and happy to see she didn’t let his words go to her head.

It was beautiful.

Linhardt was amazed at how much she had improved. The art was captivating in every way. It brought warmth to his heart. Making him feel a certain way. It felt like home. And watching Bernadetta accepting the compliment instead of running away, it was a cherishable moment. And Linhardt let his guard down.

(Are you lonely?) Our fingers dancing when they meet.

You seem so lonely (Are you lonely?)

I'll be the only dream you seek

Cute.

Linhardt called Bernadetta cute.

At that moment he wanted to tell her she was cute. Adorable. Pretty. Stunning. Absolutely beautiful. But, that would be too much for her heart. Besides, with the war still not finished, it’s best he doesn’t mention that he’s in love. At least, not yet.

For now, the two can be alone.

Alone together.

So if you're lonely, no need to show me If you're lonely, come be lonely with me

They won.

Rhea was killed and the war was over.

It felt like a dream come true.

Are you lonely? Passion is crashing as we speak

“Bernadetta,”

You seem so lonely

Linhardt nervously walked up to her. Was this okay? Was all this okay? The idea of having the chance to be happy, was he worth it?

You're the ground my feet won't reach

“Yes, Linhardt?”

So if you're lonely

She was beautiful. She was unafraid. Bernadetta trusted Linhardt. That much was clear. And it made him flustered.

Blush reached his cheek, hiding his hands behind his back. Clearing his throat while attempting to make eye contact. “You . . . mean a lot to me Bernadetta. Ever since our academy days, I’ve wanted nothing more than to be with you. You said yourself, we find comfort with each other's presence. That’s we’re alone . . . together.”

Darling, you're glowing

“Of course I remember, you mean a lot to me too Linhardt.” She says, blushing. The colour on her cheek brought up Linhardt’s confidence.

He can do this.

“So much in fact . . . I’m in love with you,” He stated.

If you're lonely come be lonely with me.

“Will you marry me?”

#fire emblem three houses linhardt #fe linhardt #linhardt fire emblem #fe bernadetta #bernadetta varley #fire emblem bernadetta #Bernadetta von Varley #linhardt von hevring #Linhardt x Bernadetta #bernadetta #bernhardt #bernadetta x linhardt #linhardt #fire emblem linhardt

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fanficshiddles · 4 years

Text

This wasn’t part of the plan, Chapter 4

Melody was almost sick because she was so nervous on the journey over to Tom’s place. The taxi had been bang on time, as expected. But she had kind of hoped it wouldn’t turn up.

She wasn’t really sure why she was so nervous. If she didn’t want to do this, she didn’t have to… But then, she kind of did have to. She had no other option, unless she wanted to continue the way she was going. Working all hours along with college. Something would break, and she didn’t want to think about what that would be.

It wasn’t all that surprising when she was taken to the posh part of the city. She looked out at all the fancy houses on the way. She could only ever dream about living in one of them.

‘Deep breath, Melody. You can do this.’ She muttered to herself when the taxi stopped outside one down a dead end. It was a stunning looking house, right next to a beautiful park. And it had a balcony on the upper floor from one of the rooms.

She stood for a moment at the bottom of the path, just looking up at the house that loomed over her. In a way, it was just as intimidating as its owner.

There was movement at one of the windows, Tom was looking out from behind the screen. That made her start to move up the path towards the door. When she reached the bottom step, the door was already opening.

Melody found her legs unable to keep moving when she saw him. He was certainly dressed down, but somehow he still managed to look really smart. With a thin red jumper, sleeves rolled up his forearms and dark skinny jeans. The clothes certainly didn’t leave too much to the imagination.

‘Are you coming in?’ Tom asked, stepping to the side with a small smile.

She wanted to say no and run away. But she nodded and continued up the steps.

His house on the inside was just as nice as the outside, his décor was simple though elegant. It was him all over. It was neat and tidy, too. Just like his desk and office always seemed to be at the college.

‘Let me get your coat.’ Tom said. Melody jumped slightly when Tom put his hands on her shoulders, sliding her jacket off for her.

‘Relax, Melody. There’s nothing expected from either of us tonight.’ He purred in her ear, making her shiver slightly as he removed her jacket from her to hang up.

She turned around to face him, still feeling really anxious as she kicked off her shoes. The carpet under her feet was nice and cosy, obviously he had under floor heating.

‘You have a lovely home.’ She said, still looking around. She didn’t really know what else to say.

‘Thank you. Come on through to the living room, I’ll get you a drink.’ Tom motioned to the doorway at the left.

Melody went through and was slightly amazed at the size of the room. There was a nice fire place in the centre of the wall opposite her, and it was going nicely. Giving the room a warm and toasty feel.

Well, if I get to spend some time here, I guess this might not be quite so bad. Melody thought with a small smile.

‘Make yourself comfortable.’ Tom said and disappeared to the back corner of the room where there was a minibar.

Melody took that chance to have a look at some photographs Tom had hanging on the wall. She assumed the pictures were his family. It made her feel a little more relaxed, knowing he was still human at the end of the day, with a family. For some reason, she never thought about her teachers as being normal. Having a life and family.

She sat down on the sofa nearest the fire, Tom returned quite quickly with two drinks. He sat down on the same sofa and handed her a glass. She was surprised it was her favourite, whiskey and coke.

‘Thanks… How did you know my favourite drink?’ She asked after taking a big drink.

‘That’s what you had last weekend. So I assumed it was a safe bet, didn’t know it was your favourite though.’ Tom grinned.

Melody didn’t really know what to say after that. She felt so awkward and nervous. But luckily Tom was on the ball.

‘I’m sure you’d like to discuss the elephant in the room. Get it out of the way and get you more comfortable, correct?’ He asked, leaning back quite comfortably. Legs splayed wide open and he draped his arm across the back of the sofa near her. His presence was rather dominating. It made her a bit more anxious, a stark reminder that she was in his territory. He very much had the upper hand.

‘Uhm… Yeah. I… I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t really know how it works, as such. And I’m still not quite one hundred percent sure I want to do this.’ She looked down at the glass in her lap, focusing on the ice swirling around.

‘Well if it makes it any easier, I haven’t either.’

Melody looked up at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. She wasn’t sure why, she just presumed that he would’ve perhaps had a sugar baby before.

‘What made you join the site?’ She asked.

‘I will be completely honest with you, Melody. I overheard you and your friend, Rana, talking about the site. I’d never realised how in need you were for money. At first, I was worried about you joining a site like that. But when I joined, I realised just how extensive the site was for the safety of the sugar babies. When I found that you had joined, I decided to get in touch.’

Melody’s eyes widened. ‘Wh… What? Why? I don’t understand.’

Tom chuckled. ‘I know it may not seem it, but I only want what’s best for my students. I don’t want to see any of you fail. And I’ll admit, the selfish side of me is jumping for joy at the thought of having you at my beck and call.’ He grinned wolfishly. ‘But I have plenty of money to spare, money that you need. I want sex. So, why not?’ He shrugged.

Melody didn’t know what to say to that. Part of her felt warmed at his words, in a way. But at the same time, she was thinking she should’ve been freaked out that he joined just to contact her.

‘Isn’t, um… Isn’t it against the rules for a teacher and student to… get together like this?’ She asked.

‘You know it is.’ Tom nodded. ‘That’s why we will have to keep it quiet.’

‘If we do this.’ Melody looked down at her lap again.

Tom smirked. ‘I think we both know we will, darling. You wouldn’t be here if you were closer to saying no than yes.’ He reached out and hooked her chin, raising her head up. ‘And with your situation, I really don’t think you’re in the position to say no. Are you?’

Melody blushed a little at his intense stare. Her heart felt like it was going to burst, it was beating so fast.

‘I… I guess not.’ She whispered.

Tom brushed his thumb up over her cheek, then leaned back. ‘What do you want for dinner? Chinese or Indian?’ He grabbed his phone and pulled up some menus.

‘Oh, I don’t mind. But you don’t need to get me anything, my body clock is all over the place for food. I can easily get something later when I get home.’ Melody rambled.

Tom looked at her with a raised eyebrow. ‘Well, that will be the first thing to change. You need to get your body into a proper routine. What time do you normally have your dinner?’ He asked with a stern tone.

‘Uhm, if I’m working at the pub then when I get home. So, after two ish in the morning. Otherwise, it’s between seven ish and midnight.’ She said sheepishly.

Tom tsked lightly and held his phone out towards her. ‘Chinese or Indian?’ He asked again.

Melody looked down at his phone. ‘Uhm… What’s cheapest?’ She didn’t want to assume that Tom would be buying, although she had a feeling he would be.

Tom’s eyebrow rose up again, it was certainly getting a lot of exercise tonight. ‘I’d say you’re smart enough to know that when you’re with me, I pay for everything. That is the whole idea of a sugar daddy.’

‘I… didn’t want to assume… since we haven’t confirmed anything.’ Melody said quietly, looking down at the phone she took from him to check out the menus.

‘Hm. It’s a good job you’re cute.’ Tom grumbled before getting up and going to the other side of the room to top up his drink.

Melody blushed and looked at him with wide eyes at the compliment, but he didn’t see because he had his back to her. Part of her wanted to ask him what would’ve happened if she wasn’t cute. But she wasn’t brave enough to ask that, so kept quiet.

‘Have you decided yet?’ Tom asked, joining her on the sofa again.

‘Indian, please. If that’s what you want too.’ She handed the phone back to him.

‘Excellent choice. What do you want?’

‘Chicken vindaloo and rice, please.’

‘Not too hot for you? Sure you don’t want a korma?’ Tom teased with a sly smirk.

Melody narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I’m sure. I enjoy hot and spicy food.’

‘Very good.’ Tom called the takeaway and ordered, he was having the same. Turned out they had similar taste when it came to food.

While they waited for their food to arrive, Tom steered the conversation back to their arrangement.

‘Do you have a number in mind for how much you need on a monthly basis?’ He asked.

‘Oh, uhm. I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it. To be honest, I didn’t even think I’d get this far. When I joined the website, I wasn’t expecting anyone to message me.’ She said shyly.

‘Well, how about I cover your college loan. I will pay that off monthly, along with your rent and any utility bills. Then I will give you two grand a month, to use on groceries and anything else you so wish. Possibly extra pocket money depending on how much you please me and how much time you spend in my company. Does that sound fair to you?’ Tom asked so casually.

Melody’s eyes almost popped out. That was an insane amount of money!

‘Are you serious? My rent alone is like five hundred pounds a month. And not to mention the college fee’ She was cut off when Tom raised his hand to silence her.

‘I am well aware of how much it costs to live in London. You got a bargain at five hundred a month.’ He frowned. ‘I am more than capable to look after you financially, Melody. I am more concerned with whether you will keep your end of the arrangement, spend ample time with me. As you do not seem to be the most relaxed when in my company.’ He said bluntly.

Melody swallowed before answering. Her mind was still slightly reeling with the figures he’d just given her. ‘It’s just this whole thing. It’s so new to me, I am nervous about it. This wasn’t part of the plan I had when I took out the college loan to get in.’

‘You got in over your head. But at least you’re realising that sooner rather than later. You really can’t go on as you are. Not just at the risk of your college work, but for your own health and sanity too.’

‘I know… I know.’ Melody sighed and leaned back on the sofa. The drink was finally starting to help her feel a tiny bit more at ease with her teacher.

‘What’s your main concern with agreeing to this arrangement?’ With the hand that was draped across the back of the sofa, he reached down and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, making her blush again.

‘I’m worried I feel like a whore. It just doesn’t seem right.’

‘What’s seen as right and wrong varies in everyone. There is no harm in having someone look after you, financially and otherwise. And there is nothing wrong with sex. It’s not like you are a prostitute on the streets, sleeping with multiple guys a night for cash.’

Melody snorted. ‘That’s pretty much what Rana said, too.’

‘Perhaps you should listen to her.’

They stopped talking because their dinner arrived. Melody was glad that while they ate, they spoke about general stuff while at the dinner table in the dining room. It was a huge mahogany table that could easily sit a dozen or more people.

Melody found out that Tom was a bit of a geek. He enjoyed superhero movies, the odd comic book along with other literature, Shakespeare being his favourite. His favourite music was rock and some pop. They’d even been at the same gig last year. And he enjoyed traveling. Something that Melody had only ever dreamed about.

She slowly relaxed a bit more, now he was seeming more and more human as time went on. Instead of like some strict robot.

After dinner, they found themselves back on the sofa with another drink.

‘Well, I’d say you’ve had enough time to dwell things over, Melody. Do you want to enter an agreement with me?’ Tom asked in a serious tone as he put his drink down and turned to face her fully.

‘What, exactly, will be expected of me?’ She asked.

‘As we’ve mentioned before, sex will be on the cards. As long as I have an ample amount of your time, we won’t have any issues. You can back out of this arrangement at any time if you truly want to, just as I can. The main part of this relationship working is that we are open and honest with one another. If I feel you aren’t giving me enough of your time, I will tell you. Likewise, if you feel you aren’t getting enough out of this for what you give, you need to tell me.’

Melody sighed and ran her hand down her face. She was attracted to this devilishly handsome man. He had money, that she needed. And he seemed to want to spend time in her company. She would get free time again, proper sleep. God, the thought of having a lie in was almost making her cry in utter joy.

‘Ok, Tom… I want to do this.’

#This wasn't part of the plan #fan fiction #tom hiddleston #sugar daddy tom hiddleston #teacher tom hiddleston

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for-ests · 4 years

Text

Falling For You- Tom Holland x Reader (Part 2)

Part 1

Word count: 4, 073

Warnings: None

✭♡✭♡✭♡✭

Tom scanned the park for you, feeling his nerves grow with each passing moment. What will you think of him now? Did you still like him?

He sighed loudly as he watched the cars pass by. Your bewitching smile refused to leave his head.

He had been nervous all day, knowing that deep inside, he needed you more than ever. You were more beautiful than he remembered, your maturity radiant and refutable. How did he miss the potential you promised?

This date was impulsive. But Tom couldn't deny how long he'd been waiting to see you again. With how much he had missed you, the only cure was to try and mend things.

If only he had been more courageous back then. If only... if only.

He never got the chance to tell you how he felt back then. And now, the young man was starting to second guess himself. His heels began to ache from standing in an awkward position for too long, eyebrows narrowing as he wondered if you would appreciate what he had planned out.

Tom was too shy, too self-conscious. But thankfully, his trip to America had settled those conflicting thoughts. He was now a different person on the inside and the outside. More confident, physically, and mentally.

He had worked so hard to improve his acting skills; with hard work came success. He'd been working out regularly for months now, and his body was starting to sculpt into the complexion he'd always dreamed of having. Now, all that was missing was a woman by his side. Tom may have changed his appearance, but he was still the same softie his parents had raised him to be. He still cared for his home, his family, and his friends. That would never change, no matter how famous he got.

Just like his feelings for you. He had hoped and prayed they would go away in time, but they kept growing stronger. When he saw your face last night in the pub, it all came crashing down like a tidal wave.

He remembered your tenderhearted ways, how you had always been there for him even when he didn't deserve it. He was too childish to realize it then, but he was deeply in love with you and didn't know how to deal with it. Tom had not been ready, even if he desperately wanted to be.

He could tell the same realization happened to you. It was evident in your eyes, in your reserved yet hopeful body language, and in the slight blush that crept along your cheeks every time he uttered your name.

The passion was still there. It had to have been, or else you wouldn't have said yes.

Tom leaned against the chain-linked fence, glancing back every once in a while just to see if you had arrived.

He wanted to see you so badly. The anxiety was killing him. What if you didn't show up? The anxious boy grimaced. That would be reasonable. That's essentially what he did to you. He left without saying goodbye.

He felt so much better about himself now, but that didn't mean you would take him back. What if you secretly hated him? The romantic side of him that he had saved for you was just waiting to emerge, begging and grasping for attention.

It was starting to cloud his consciousness.

Tom exhaled deeply and scrolled through his Instagram feed, reading a few recent comments that fueled his ego. He had about 200k, which was good for an amateur actor who hadn't landed any starring roles. A small fan base was better than nothing, and all of this newfound attention was from his own hard work and dedication.

But he was getting there, his dream role was a few weeks away. That audition would mean everything, but for now, he needed someone to help take his mind off things. You were the perfect person to do so. The person who always did, back before all of this started. Even before he was able to pursue his dream. The thought of losing you permanently had always scared him, so much so that he wasn’t able to form a proper goodbye. One that caused all this pain to begin with.

Tom hadn't seen you in ages, and you looked better than ever. If he'd fancied you back then, he couldn't even imagine what he would do for you now. His heart began to beat faster at the thought. It was scary, as he realized he might possibly do anything.

"Tom?" Your voice snapped through the silence, everything else becoming mere background noise.

He lifted his head and almost melted right then and there.

Your hair drifted so peacefully in the evening breeze, seeming to light up the entire atmosphere. You smiled shyly at him and tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. "What's up?" You greeted, sighing deeply as your breath misted into the air. Your cheeks were starting to redden from the chill, but you didn't seem to mind.

You looked just as nervous as him. Possibly distracted by your own thoughts.

Tom hadn't really thought it through when he asked if you wanted to take an evening walk. But when was London ever a comfortable temperature?

"I promise we won't be out in the cold too long." He chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets from the brisk air. "I just wanted to take you one place."

Dismissing his statement, your eyes focused on his hands. You started to rummage through your purse. "Do you want mittens? I have an extra pair."

"S-sure." He said between shivers, graciously taking up on your offer. Tom took his hands out of his pockets and slipped the warm fabric on. "Thank you."

He's always appreciated how prepared you were. He knew you had prepared yourself for heartbreak, even if you did not show it. Only someone with a genuine and kind heart would be so bold. You were there to hear him out.

Because last night, even drunk, Tom could see the look in your eyes. There was a longing you held that he was unable to notice before.

"It's no problem." Your nose crinkled in the most adorable way as you smiled. "Now, we can hold hands."

The last part came out as a whisper as if you were unsure of your own rash actions. Regardless though, you followed through, grasping his hand tightly.

Without blatantly making your intentions known, he had gathered the hint. You were willing to try and make things right. That was all he could have asked for.

Tom noticed you had become surprisingly cheerful. Knowing you all too well, he understood that your cheerfulness was a way to protect yourself, a facade of sorts.

Embarrassed, Tom glanced away briefly. If he failed to win your heart back on this date, things between the two of you would no longer exist. The young man knew he couldn't deal with that. You were far too important.

"Ohhh." He laughed, intertwining his coated fingers with yours. "I'm the one who's supposed to make the moves, not you darling."

You leaned against him and tittered, feeling more confident with Tom's true intentions. You had already surpassed your high school awkwardness in less than five minutes. It had taken you and him three years to get this close back in the day.

But you were different, and so was he.

Breathing deeply, you discarded those thoughts. You glanced up, and the cold that had previously surrounded you disappeared when you looked into his eyes. "Where to?"

Tom squeezed your hand firmly, his entire body warming at the sight of you so content by his presence. "You'll see, I think you'll like it."

✭♡✭♡✭♡✭

You tried your best not to laugh as Tom guided you down the rocky and secluded path. You could hear each step you took, the snow crunching underneath your weight. The snow threatened to push over the hemlines of your socks, but you persisted farther.

To you, the entire situation was comical. The sun had begun to finally set, and you were slowly hiking through a forest with a man you had once known in grade school. A branch brushed against your jacket as Tom slowly but surely helped you through the forest.

You did not need the help but you knew how proper Tom was. And because of it, you were able to cling to him longer than necessary.

"Where in the world are you taking me?" You ventured to ask, already knowing he wouldn't give you the answer. You found this quite the adventure for a first date and reunion. The place he was leading you to seemed familiar, but in a way, you could not describe. The landscape had been cast into shadows, yet the atmosphere was one you found yourself resonating with. Nostalgic vibes from deep within your soul, masked under the guise between good and evil.

"Shh!" A deep chuckle followed shortly after you stepped over a fallen tree, it was hardly visible. "Almost there." He spoke without looking behind him. The two of you were completely alone, and that thought made you excited.

You were quiet after that, but your grin stayed constant- your true feelings unable to remain hidden. The little things he did made you feel special. Tom could make your heart flutter with just one glance.

Tom’s hat was covering the hair you adored, but his curls were poking out slightly. You wondered if he still hated them, even though all the girls used to swoon over his locks. Unbeknownst to him, you had engaged in that endless dialogue.

Keeping your eyes focused on the back of his head, you almost didn't realize that you had come to an opening. A large boulder was placed in the middle. It was big enough to seat a few people comfortably.

It took you a moment to remember its significance. But as soon as you did, a blush appeared on your cheeks. Tom thought it was adorable.

"The kissing rock?" You squeaked.

"You were my first kiss." He reminded, turning to you with a shy smile, reflecting on the more awkward moments of your relationship. Though sometimes unbearable to think about, bittersweet they remained.

You blushed at the memory. You both had your first kisses with each other one night when you and all your friends decided to play seven minutes in heaven. A freshmen year hangout circle that sometimes pressured you to partake in activities you wouldn't typically have.

At fifteen years old, your heart began to pound loudly in your chest. Watching the lone beer bottle land on your best friend and crush caused your eyes to go wide. Admittingly, you had hoped that you might be able to kiss him, but now that it was happening, your anxiety spiraled until you were unable to move.

"Uhm-i-" You stuttered, open-mouthed. You were only brought back to reality by a flood of teasing and laughter. Your girlfriends knew how infatuated you were with him. Yet they also knew how shy you were. An interaction like this would never happen in any other scenario.

Your best friend cheered you on with a smirk of approval.

"Let's go then." Tom eagerly stood up, watching your cheeks grow noticeably red. He tried to usher you into the room and away from the gaze of all your so-called friends.

Once the closet door closed, you exhaled roughly. You'd never kissed anyone before, and Tom knew that. What if he was grossed out by you in this way? Would you be able to keep your mouth shut?

"Well, my friends say you have a crush on me." He whispered, leaning as nonchalantly against the wall as he could. Even through your own sheepishness, you could sense his nerves. "So we can kiss if you'd like to."

An excellent proposal indeed, but the fact of any boy being aware of your true feelings sent your sense into a frenzy. How could they possibly know you were in love with your best friend?

"If you want to." You bit your lip, glancing away.

A short, goofy, and inexperienced Tommy spoke under his breath. "I've always wanted to."

"Okay." You said, sitting up a little straighter. You didn't know what else to do. Weren't the guys supposed to lean in? Were you supposed to keep your eyes open?

Tom moved towards you, testing the waters by setting one hand on your shoulder and tucking the other by the low of your back. His touch was shocking in this way, and your teenage brain was desperately trying to sort through the motions.

Naturally, and almost perfectly, he leaned in. Your lips touched hesitantly at first but then pressed hard once the two of you were able to kiss with closed eyes. You gripped him suddenly as the kiss escalated. You weren't ready for that, though part of you wanted to continue.

"Someone might see, Tommy."

Tom pulled away, trying hard not to grin.

"Then, we pretended like nothing happened."

"Yeah." He scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly. "Then you started dating Jerry."

"Fucking Jerry." You chuckled heartily. "What a bloke."

"Yeah." He smiled, biting his lip as he noticed your anxious expression. You didn't seem to be as excited as he thought you would be. Maybe you didn't have any good memories here? Tom pondered on your high school relationships. He'd never kissed anyone here back in the day, but he had heard great things from his mates.

Most serious couples in your high school had kissed here after school. It might be cheesy, but he wanted to kiss you here. He always had. If you shared terrible memories with this place, he wanted to try and make a good one.

Tom thought that making this relation would cheer you up. Nostalgia was a fitting cure when times were low, especially when you had been away from home for years.

"Follow me." He urged, taking your hand in his, and pulling you towards the rock.

Your hesitation soon faded as your hands intertwined again. This wasn't what happened back then. It was different, Tom was here with you, and you were adults now.

Smirking to yourself, you shook your head. You two were alone, you were adults, and you had feelings for each other. Right? So why were you so afraid?

Taking this leap would mean there was no turning back. Whatever happened tonight would determine your entire relationship with him.

“Y/N?” He chuckled, waving his hand in your face. You had zoned out for a moment.

“Sorry,” You laughed with him, smacking his hand away from your face in a teasing manner.

Tom helped you climb up the boulder, his hands resting firmly on your waist to hoist you up. You blushed at the contact, knowing he was gripping lower than he needed to. Chills were sent up your spine as his warmth moved elsewhere.

Once you had gotten on top of the rock, you turned around to give him support, only to find he was already sitting next to you. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head lightly. "I see you're more athletic now."

He scooted next to you, a cheeky grin upon his lips. "I'm only trying to show off, you know that, right?"

Your eyes darted in the opposite direction, trying to keep your eyes focused on the long stretch of forest. Tom was much more blunt, much more confident. The old Tom would have never been so straightforward. And as much as it embarrassed you, you loved it.

You turned back to him once the burning sensation in your stomach died down. "You're going to have to do more than that." You teased, becoming aware of how close you were. His lips were just inches away, and he was starting to seem irresistible.

Tom noticed it too. His urges growing stronger as he watched your tongue run smoothly across your lips. The action made them glossy and far more kissable. Were you waiting for him to do it?

After a moment of searching for an answer in your expression, he started to lean in. He closed his eyes and went for the kiss. Tom could feel his heart racing, he had wanted to do this so badly, and it needed to be perfect. He had to make up for the years he had failed to make you his. Maybe it was for the best, but the time you had spent apart had only caused both of you pain.

If that was not a sign, Tom couldn't fathom what would be. Everything about you felt right. Everything about you, he loved. It was about time he was brave enough to come forth and admit it.

And perfect it was. As soon as your lips touched, he felt his emotions ignite in a peaceful yet passionate blaze that he had never felt before.

You shivered from the contact, knowing that if you were standing, your knees would have buckled. Being there with him, like that, was everything you had ever dreamed it would be.

You kissed him back, deepening the kiss and asking for more. You were in love with him, and he didn't even know it. Maybe this was your last chance to show him, perhaps this moment with him was all you had left.

"Tommy--" You gasped against his lips, literally melting into his warm embrace. His hand brushed against your cheek, guiding you closer with a gentle touch. The second kiss was wet, much sloppier than the first. Your emotions were poured into every movement, your skin aflame and senses alive.

More. I need more.

The way you moaned his name encouraged him to take a step forward and pull you closer. He had waited so long to do this, and he never thought he would be able to. That's why this was so special. He was getting a second chance with the love of his life.

The kisses intensified, and your lips parted, inviting him for more. Practically begging for it.

Your lips began to move in sync, the kisses turning sloppy, filling with hunger and need from all the time you had spent apart. From all the years of denying your love.

Tom's hands began to wander, feeling you up and down from all the angles you had always imagined he would explore. You let him readily, relishing in his praise, becoming drunk on the sensation his lips gave you. You wanted more, you needed more.

You held his face in your mitten-covered hands, kissing him tenderly as you moved to sit on his lap. The contact caused Tom to groan, his arms looping around your waist and holding you as close as he could through the thick clothes you were wearing.

He wanted to feel your skin against his. He knew this wasn't enough to satisfy the passion building up inside him. You were too tempting and always had been. Tom knew you were innocent, and that's what made you so much more alluring. You were waiting to become his, and now was finally the right time.

The two of you pulled apart briefly to catch your breath. Tom tilted his head back to gaze at you. Your cheeks were flushed, but it might of been from the cold. Your expression was sheepish, but not ashamed. And your eyes... man, your eyes seemed to promise him treasures he could only dream of.

"I've been waiting so long to do that." Tom managed to string together a full sentence. It was true, and he has been repeating that to himself for the past two years.

You hastily glanced away. "M-me too." You whispered, acting as if you still did not believe it happened.

Wishing for it to continue, but knowing you had to stop before things got too heated, you crawled off his lap and sighed. You couldn't stop smiling.

"I really fancy you." Tom blurted, eyes widening at the realization of what he said. "If you couldn't tell..." He added, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. That's what he did in embarrassing situations.

"I figured that out when I saw the rock." You blushed. "I remember you saying that you wanted to bring your future girlfriend here."

He couldn't believe you would remember something like that. It made him feel warm inside, a fluffy, and respectful kind. That must mean that you felt the same, or at least you did. It made him sad to think that you liked him back in high school. Hearing him say something like that must have broken your heart.

"I guess that wish came true," Tom said.

Your eyes widened. What did that mean?

"I want to be with you, Y/N." He whispered, all the presumptions of his youth fading away with just one sentence. Now, he seemed like a man. A man who was able to admit, and make sense of his decade-long feelings.

You could not find the words to speak, your mind analyzing all the possibilities of what that could mean.

"I really hope you know how sorry I am for leaving you." The words came out in a flood, and Tom's composure crumbled in front of your eyes. "When I saw you yesterday, I realized how much I hurt you. You don't deserve that Y/N." He took a deep, shaky breath. "I hope you can give me another chance to make things right... and to possibly be more than friends."

You were deeply pained from his tone and the way his voice faltered when thinking of the past.

"Tommy, it's okay. I understand." You smiled sadly, wrapping your arms back around the boy. You didn't want him to feel bad about it. Though both of you had suffered, there was no going back to fix it. The time apart, though excruciating on bad terms, helped bring you back together. Being away from him for the first time, helped you realize how special he really was to you. He wasn't just your best friend. He was not just a crush. He was the love of your life.

Tilting your head, you pressed a chaste kiss to his chilled cheeks.

It's not like you had confessed to him before, or made your feelings known. You were both oblivious about your feelings. But why did he leave without saying goodbye all those years ago?

Tom could tell what you were thinking by the grief-stricken look on your face.

"I left without saying goodbye because I knew I couldn't face you. I was afraid to confirm my love for you, Y/N..." He hugged you back, burying his head in the crook of your neck. You smelled as amazing as he remembered, your warmth engulfing him in comfort no other woman could. You were what he had always been craving, and you were always right in front of him.

"Love?" You whispered astonishingly, picking up on the word as he breathed its existence.

Tom pulled away, nodding slowly.

"You love me?" You gasped, tears starting to gather at your eyelids. The fear of your feelings blossoming further in a one-sided relationship faded. It was going to be okay.

"I love you." He confirmed, all his nerves vanishing as your expression beamed brightly back at him. For a moment, silence consumed you. Before you could think further, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. Reaching your sleeve up, you quickly wiped them away.

"I love you too." You choked out, the words feeling so good on your lips. So right to say and express. "I always have..." You admitted, eyes flickering away as you said it. "I was too afraid to tell you, and it killed me."

"But I'm here now, I've realized my mistake," Tom assured, pulling you into his chest and squeezing you tight. He couldn't believe how stupid he was back then to leave someone like you behind. You were meant to be together, you had to be. There had never been anyone else that had come close.

He wasn't going to let you slip away again.

"Come back to my place," Tom commanded more than he asked. The cold was starting to become unbearable, now that the passionate heat that sparked between you had calmed.

"I want to show you how much you really mean to me."

#tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland

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thesandersarchives · 4 years

Text

The Immediate Aftermath (1)

What it says on the tin (in other words: what happened right after Logan turned off the recording). Loceit, background Intruality. Fluff, kissing. 959 words.

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As soon as Logan heard the click of the last recorder switching off, he sighed, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them, his vision was slightly more blurry than he remembered. A sign that the Eye’s influence was gone, he assumed. Hoped.

The others were watching him, and even without Seeing he could tell that they were all anxious. Waiting for something to go wrong. And inexplicably, looking to him for reassurance that it wouldn’t. That they were all going to be okay.

Before the events of today, he might’ve said that it was too soon to tell, that there was no way to prove any of them were truly free from the Fears for good.

But instead, he nodded, and offered a smile, because despite all signs to the contrary, today had happened, and Logan couldn’t bring himself to tarnish the hopes of his friends--and Dee. Whatever Dee was to him. And it was high time he found out, now that he thought about it.

He reached out a hand, and waited until Dee took it, relishing for a moment the softness of his glove before speaking.

“...Kiss me?”

Dee grinned, an expression he’d not yet seen on the man, and it was brilliant.

“Gladly, darling.”

Kissing Dee was simultaneously exactly what Logan imagined, and completely unlike what he had expected. His lips were soft, with a slight coldness that lingered from their time in the Lonely, and he made a quiet sound halfway between surprise and pleasure when Logan reached up to cup his face, the tip of his thumb brushing over the scar that streaked across Dee’s cheek. He tasted like Earl Grey, and his hands sat gently at Logan’s waist--until one hand snaked up to pull Logan’s tie and deepen the kiss.

They would have carried on that way for as long as their lungs would allow, Logan was sure, but for Virgil clearing his throat and breaking Logan’s focus on the man in his arms. Dee was visibly blushing when Logan reluctantly pulled away, though it only showed on the unmarred half of his face.

From the heat he felt in his cheeks, Logan was certain he looked roughly the same, except his hair hadn’t been mussed like Dee’s from when his hat had fallen off (when had that happened? How had neither of them noticed?). And the others weren’t faring much better, except for Remus and Roman, who were openly (infuriatingly) smirking at him.

Somehow, Patton recovered from the awkwardness first.

“Hey, Thomas? Is there a shower I could use? Because I really, really need one.”

He grimaced, showing his grime-covered hands--not that he needed to, the dust and dirt on his clothes and across his face were already proof enough. Remus nodded, his expression shifting to match Patton’s as he reached for the other man despite the state he was in.

“Dibs on going next. You guys don’t want to know how long I’ve gone without washing. Like, at all. Seriously, it’s been a long time.”

Roman’s nose wrinkled. “Yeah, we can tell, Reek.”

Before Remus could, undoubtedly, open his mouth to retaliate, Thomas stepped in.

“There’s multiple bathrooms, you don’t have to wait your turn. Here, this way.”

He turned, but stopped at the sound of someone’s stomach growling. (From the way Virgil immediately tried to shrink into his hoodie, Logan had a pretty good guess as to who that someone was)

“Uh, the kitchen’s just down the hall to the right, first door on your right. Help yourselves!”

And with that, Thomas took off, Remus and Patton in tow. Roman immediately turned to follow Thomas’ directions to the kitchen, loudly proclaiming that he was starving--and pointedly ignoring Virgil’s look of relief and gratitude as he did so.

The two of them started down the hallway, leaving Logan and Dee in the room they’d all been transported back to after exiting the Lonely.

A room which, Logan now realized, seemed to be Thomas’ library.

Dee looked at him with a smile. “I was going to suggest following Mr. Storm and the elder Mr. Kingsley, but judging from the awestruck look on your face, perhaps you’d rather stay here?”

Logan thought for a moment, then shook his head. “This will all still be here later. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

Dee winced. “...All I’ve had today is a cup of tea.”

Logan’s eyes widened, and he promptly grabbed Dee by the wrist and led him out into the hallway after Roman and Virgil, launching into a lecture about the importance of nutrition and how tea alone is not a proper breakfast, dear, I thought you of all people would be more sensible when it comes to taking care of yourself.

Dee let out a breathless kind of laugh, something uncertain beneath the sound, but acquiesced with a smile that might’ve been described as fond, as Logan pushed them both towards the kitchen.

“...Logan, honey, I appreciate your concern, but I’ve literally been kept alive for over a hundred years by supernatural forces, I’m fairly certain at some point I stopped needing to eat.”

Logan frowned, though it was somewhat halfhearted.

“That excuse would have worked this morning, but as of roughly ten minutes ago, you’re a regular human being. So right now, you’re going to let me make us both some food, and then we’re going to eat. And then I’d like to come back to the library and push you up against the shelves and kiss you some more. If you’re amenable, of course.”

Dee was sporting another half-blush by the time Logan finished speaking, but he was grinning again, and Logan fell a little bit further for him as the other man pretended to think.

“Well. Against the shelves sounds a little uncomfortable, but for you... Oh, I suppose I can make it work.”

Logan’s laughter rang out through the halls.

Yes, he thought to himself as Dee tried and failed to muffle his own giggles, they were going to be okay.

#supplemental #ficlet

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cherriesradio · 3 years

Text

Isn’t love meant to be easy? Todoroki

So this is already pretty long and I don’t feel like finishing it so uh yeah.

Warnings: mentions of abuse, forced engagement, bad parents on both sides, one-sided love, mentioned like of musical theater (that’s not really a warning is it lol)

Quirk: Earth. Basically earth bending.

Shoto remebered when he was a kid and his siblings would sneak in books for him. Endeavor being the little jerk he is only let them read books about heros. And only he’s that he saw as “good enough.” Aka the overly arrogant and merciless hero’s. Shoto’s siblings didn’t care what books they brought in, just that it wasn’t revoking around a pro-hero. As long as it would give Shoto and ouce of a normal childhood, unlike them.

He remembers that sometimes, the stories he read in secret would have a romance. The boy and the girl, they would bump into each other. Probably at school. The boy picks up the girls books, their hands touch. And it goes on from there. They eventually confess under a cherry blossom tree, and they kiss. And then live happily ever after.

So, he thought that live would be easy as that. Bumping into each other. Little did he know, love was much more complicated.

You whimpered, scared by how many people were at the party. Even more scared by what your parents told you about this party the day before. You were going to meet a boy, at the same young age as you, and possibly be engaged to him by the end of the night.

Marriage scared you. It’s such a big commitment, yet you had to make the choice in one night? And as a young child as yourself? And knowing how everyone you had meet over the years who were also rich, then it probably wasn’t even going to be your choice. Simply dishonorable.

“Darling, make sure to hold onto my hand. We’re about to meet the boy.” Your mother said. You nodded your head and gulped.

A red and white boy. Around five, the same age as you. He had big eyes. One was grey and the other was icey blue. He looked just as nervous as you, trembling in his perfectly fitting tux.

You looked up, to where your neck would hurt for looking to long. His father probably, was Endeavor. Your parents praised him because he was a big and powerful hero, but he clearly didn’t have a good heart. He look intimidating even without fire bursting from his skin.

“Hello Y/n. I heard you have a powerful quirk. (“Of course he would start with that.” You heard a girl from behind the small boy sigh.)

You gently nodded. You were always told your quirk was powerful. You trained when you wanted but being determined to be a great hero, you trained constantly. When you Frits got your quirk only a year ago it was rather weak, you could barely pick up a rock that weight more then a few pounds. Now you can pick up double your weight.

“Hm. This is my son, Shoto. Shoto, introduce yourself.” The man looked down on Shoto and pat his back, Shoto stepped forward. He was right in front of you.

“My name is Shoto Todokri. I’m five years old. My quirk is Half-Cold Half-Hot. I can make ice with my right side and create fire with my left side.” He said in a monotone voice. He had a strange tremble when he said “left side.”

“Hi. I’m Y/n L/n. My quirks Earth.” You smile softly and held your hand out, he nervously shook it.

Your parents made you spend the whole night with Shoto. He was a good kid. He was patient and queit, you were stuck doing most of the talking. You thanked the lord that your parents were respected, or else you could have been in danger with all the strangers.

That’s how it started.

He didn’t realize he had real feelings for you. You were going to be forced to marry him as son as you turned eighteen, there was no reason either of you should remotely enjoy a forced relationship.

And then came UA. He was going to get into UA for sure, and so we’re you. Purely because you were both powerful. Either way, your both from rich family’s, they could’ve bribed you into it if you weren’t powerful.

And you were clearly avoiding him. He didn’t blame you, you were forced into this relationship and so was he. You would occasionally wave at him in the halls or give a small hello. That was the most you would give him.

He couldn’t help but feel bad about it. You were a kind and patient person, but you didn’t have I care in the world about him.

And like he did with most of his problems, he went to his best friend. Deku.

“Hey Midoryia? Can I ask you something?” Todokri said, tapping on Dekus shoulder. Deku turned to him.

The empty common room was strange. Of course it was rather late, but Todokri knew Dkeu would still be up studying.

“Sure Todokri! What’s up?” He smiled. His freckles popped off his face even in the dim room, the fridge and lamp being the only sources of light.

“I… thsi is going to be rather personal, but I’m engaged to L/n. And it’s kinda bothering our relationship.” Todokri awkwardly said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Deku looked surprised. Everyone he told did, since arranged marriages are so rare now. He quickly connected the dots, that you both had powerful quirks and that Endeavor would take advantage of that.

“Oh. Sorry, Todokri. What do you need me for in that, though?” He titled his head to the side. Todokri’s left side glowed with the white light of the full fridge.

“Your good at friendship. If we’re going to be married one day, than I want to at least have a platonicly good relationship with them. I don’t want them miserable.” Todokri said. Deku could clearly see the guilt in his eyes. Deku gently nodded.

“Well, I could try to get you to connected. Their mostly friends with Kacchans group, but I know them pretty well. They asked to study with me a few times.” Deku muttered. “Next time we study together I could mention you, say how great of a person you are. Maybe get you two to hang out somehow.”

Todokri quickly nodded and was glad to be given the offer. “That sounds perfect Midoryia. Please do.” He said, then turned and went back to his dorm room. He slept more Pres fully than normal.

“Hey Y/n, you know Todokri right?” Deku casually said, turning the yellowing page of the old school text books. The library was empty beside you two and the workers.

“Yeah.” You say and raise an eyebrow. You knew him and your fiancé were friends but you didn’t see a reason why he would have to mention him.

“All Might told me I should try training harder with my legs, since I’m only now trying to use them. So, I’m gonna be pretty busy for a month or two.” He said, looking directly at you insteda of over his book. The room felt hotter. You were definitely leaning on Deku’s support with school, you would probably start failing again if you stopped.

“That good for you. But bad for me. You know how bad I was before you offered to study with me.” You say.

“Don’t worry! Todokri is a smart guy, try studying with him! He’s more queit than I am, but if you spend some time with him he’ll come out of his shell.” Deku said.

You puzzle it in your mind. It would be overwhelmingly uncomfortable, you two wer engaged yet you had ingnored him for most of the school year so far.

“Sure. I’ll ask him about it later.” You say offhandedly. You scoff in your mind. You had only seen this kid at party’s your parents forced you to go to, they didn’t even put the effort into getting you two to know each other well.

You walked up behind the half and half boy. You refused to call him more than a poor, shy and anxious kid. His existence pissed you off. He was a nice kid, polite and patient. But the fact that you were forced to marry this guy you had barely talked to made your blood boil.

“Shoto Todokri? Could a talk to you for a second?” You said, in the voice and tone your parents told you was proper.

“Yes, Y/n? Sure.” He said and turned away from the lunch he wasn’t focused on eating. “What do you need?”

“Could you help me study? Deku’s gonna be busy for a while and I’m a little dependent on him. Which I should probably fix…” You said, drawing your hand back to your chest from his shoulder.

“Yes. I don’t mind. Um… would eight be good? Meet in my dorm?” He said gently. He felt like you were like a wild animal, would scurry away at the slightest wrong move.

“Sure, that’s fine. Well uh… see ya later.” You awkwardly wave and walk back to Mina and Denki, they could clearly tell how nervous you still were. Yet, Todokri stood still. He played with the sting on his hoodie, and blushed.

“Yeah, I’m sure that George Washington was the fourth president.” You sarcastically said. You should’ve remembered that Shoto was horrible at American History, the only class he was bad in.

“Trust me! I’ve very sure he was the fourth!” He defensive cried. You snicker and roll your eyes.

“And who was before him? And after em’?” You say and hide a laugh.

“Um… Alexander Hamilton was a president right? And then… then Thomas Jeffery?” He said, almost shaking from how nervous he was. He had already helped you with every other subject, this was the only one you said you were good at but wanted help just in case.

You made a system. On mondays you would do history, on wednesdays you did math, and on sundays you did American history. And any other day you would train. What a great Sunday you were having.

You snickered and banged your fist on the counter of the empty common room. “Heck no! Alexander was in charge of the treasury, and also wrote for George Washington during the war for independence. Thomas Jeffery,” You did quotation marks with your hands. “wasn’t a person. Your thinking of Thomas Jefferson. He was a president, the third.”

He sighed, it came out white from his cold side taking over. He was trying to keep himself from catching fire. It always felt like that would happen around you after the month you’ve been studying together, fro some reason.

“I think your gonna have to help me with this. How do you even know this stuff?” He said with a sad and pouty look.

“Hamilton, it’s a musical. One of my favorites.”

He took a menatal note of that.

“Shoto!” You giggled, elbowing the teen. He laughed wildly, not for the first time. Not anymore.

Your jokes always made him laugh wildly, not caring if others see him in the act. Because your there, laughing with him. Sometimes at his own silly actions, and others at your own statements.

You made him happy. Happier than he ever remembers being. He’s been happy before, just… not this much. Not with Iida or Ochako, or his siblings or even Deku. You made him happiest.

“I can’t believe you sometimes!” You giggled and covered your mouth as to not make the white room explode with laughter. Everyone was staring at you already. Half of the class already thought you were dating, the other thought you were pining. Well, Shoto was.

But, the sweet stares you started to give towards Izuku during class, the lingering touchs when you grabbed his arm to ask to study, the tab bit longer than it should be hugs, those heart eyes you would give to him during lunch. It all seemed to stain into his memory, never able to leave.

Friday, January 5. You and Shoto were having your now normal sleepovers, watching romantics comedy’s and crappy tv till midnight.

#mha #bnha #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #todorki x reader #todorki shouto

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notveryglittery · 5 years

Text

sleeping at last

summary: virgil can’t sleep. remy’s here to fix it. words: 1.2k / ships: platonic sleepxiety (remy & virgil) warnings: mentions of not sleeping for an extended period of time, implied self-deprecation. let me know if there’s anything else! notes: it’s my first time writing a proper fic in ~4mo and i might actually cry, i’m so happy and proud. ironically enough, i got this idea and wrote it while trying and failing to fall asleep. also, keep a look out for a few more parts, it’s gonna be a series <3

read on ao3!

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Hiya, babe.”

“Please don’t make me regret this.”

“Shh, okay, it’s fine.”

Remy moved slowly, settling himself onto Virgil’s bed, careful to not disturb the other. Virgil had his head in his hands and his breathing was erratic, short stuttering inhales and shaky exhales. His shoulders were trembling.

“Shh, okay,” Remy repeated, dimming the lights in the room with a simple swipe of his fingers through the air. “I have an idea. Think you can look at me, hon?”

For a moment, Remy was worried Virgil was nearing being unresponsive. It was one thing to help the anxious side get the shuteye he’d been unable to achieve for the last day and a half. It was another thing entirely to help him through a panic attack. Remy took a deep breath, preparing himself to do so, if necessary.

Thankfully, a few seconds later, Virgil lowered his hands and lifted his head. Even in the low light, Remy could see Virgil was sans makeup, and the bags under his eyes were not a pretty sight. It looked even like he might have been crying earlier, if the redness was anything to go by.

“Hi there, sleeping beauty,” Remy said, gently, teasing.

Virgil cracked a smile, swatting at him half-heartedly. “Shuddup.”

“No can do, sweetie,” Remy replied in a despairing sort of tone, as if he really was so sorry about it. “Gotta talk to help you get to dreamland.”

“How dreadful,” Virgil groaned, somehow the perfect mix between annoyed and hopeful. It was weird and seemed kind of impossible but Remy wasn’t going to question it.

“You’re not allowed to call my methods cliché, got it?”

“No promises.”

Remy rolled his eyes, pretend exasperated.

“Deep breath in.”

Despite Virgil’s initial response, he followed Remy’s example easily. They both inhaled through their noses. Before Virgil could release, however, Remy held up his hand. He lowered a finger by five Mississippi counts in his head, before beginning to exhale slowly through his mouth. Virgil did the same.

if it hadn’t been thirty six hours since Virgil had last slept (and if even then, it had been more than three hours of rest), Remy would joke about how he could already see the tension draining from Virgil’s shoulders. That’d just put him on the offense, though, as it was clear he was close enough to snapping without Remy’s ribbing to make matters worse.

“We’re gonna go again, but this time we’re gonna close our eyes on the exhale, okay?”

Virgil looked ready to oppose, as if the idea of not being able to see his surroundings when he was so on edge was absurd, but Remy was already beginning to take a deep breath in. Virgil, seemingly desperate enough for a night undisturbed, hurried to do the same so as not to fall behind. This time, Remy counted only two Mississippi seconds, before initiating the exhale. He let his eyes slip shut, only able to hope that Virgil was doing the same. Once his lungs were free of air, Remy opened his eyes.

To his surprise, Virgil’s were still closed, and his head had begun to dip.

‘He must be exhausted,’ Remy thought, ‘I ought to watch over him better.’

“Ready to go again, darling?” He asked, barely a whisper, as if hesitant to break the silence.

Virgil’s eyes snapped open with a quick hitch of his breath. After taking a moment to settle himself, he nodded. “Can you count out loud, though?”

“Anything for you.”

And so they continued. Eyes kept open as they inhaled. Two Mississippi seconds counted aloud in the softest voice Remy could muster. Eyes slipping closed as they exhaled and remaining shut until the next inhale.

After roughly eight rounds of this (Remy wasn’t worried about keeping track, as he already had one set of numbers to repeat), Virgil was looking significantly more relaxed. It wouldn’t do him any good falling asleep sitting up, though, and so Remy decided then it was time to move onto the next step.

“Okay,” he began, hesitantly, so as not to startle Virgil with switching tasks suddenly. “Part two.”

“Hmm,” Virgil answered, swaying slightly in his current position.

“Need you to lay down. Can you do that?”

“Of course,” he responded, sounding haughty, as if offended that Remy had to ask whether he could accomplish such an easy request.

Without much grace, Virgil simply flopped backwards, head landing amongst his pile of pillows. Remy supposed it was a good thing Virgil had already been sitting in the middle of his bed when he’d arrived, so there was less shifting to do before getting comfortable. He was pleased to see Virgil had continued the process of closing his eyes while breathing out and opening them again while breathing in. It seemed harder each time, though, his eyelids fluttering the longer he went on.

Remy moved as well, situating himself further up and closer to Virgil’s head. He settled with his back against the headboard and, with a single thought, made the bed just bigger enough to accommodate them both without being cramped.

“I’m gonna put my hand in your hair. Is that okay?” Remy asked.

Virgil hummed, in what could have been a yes, but Remy wasn’t risking it.

“Virgil, honey, is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Virgil mumbled, tilting his head towards Remy’s voice, blinking up at him.

Without waiting this time, Remy sunk his hand into Virgil’s hair, combing his fingers through the violet locks. He did so slowly, working to carefully remove any knots that needed untangling. Virgil hummed again and if Remy didn’t know any better, he’d guess Virgil was about to melt right into the mattress.

“Keep breathing,” Remy murmured, “eyes closed on the exhale. I’ll count for you.”

Between having to focus on when to have his eyes opened or closed and listening to Remy’s steady counting, the racing thoughts that normally plagued Virgil’s mind were sluggish now, caught in the web that Remy was weaving. Eventually, his eyelids grew too heavy to even bother in trying to lift them.

“M’gonna…” he tried. A few more deep breaths passed before he continued. “Eyes… shut.”

“Good idea,” Remy agreed, “you’re so smart.”

Virgil grunted, as if he wanted to disagree.

“Fight me about it in the morning,” Remy suggested, smiling just enough that Virgil could hear it in his voice.

“Bet,” Virgil managed somehow, despite one long exhale and the tingly feeling of Remy’s fingernails scratching at his scalp doing their best to lull him to sleep.

“Bet,” Remy echoed.

it was maybe fifteen minutes more (it wasn’t like Remy was going to take his phone out to check the time and it definitely wasn’t like he could trust the clock on the wall) before Virgil’s breathing had evened out completely. His expression was peaceful, lips parted slightly and eyebrows no longer furrowed (they seemed to be constantly, always in some state of concern). Remy carded his hand through Virgil’s hair once more before moving away, stretching his arms and twisting his upper body just enough to loosen his muscles from sitting still for so long.

He was careful getting back to his feet, doing his best to avoid any sudden shifts or creaks. Virgil had always been a light sleeper, after all. It took one more easy thought to return the bed to its original size, so Virgil wouldn’t wake up disoriented by the extra space.

“Good night, angel,” Remy whispered. “I’m sending you good dreams so don’t worry about a thing, got it?”

He waited, as if Virgil would tell him ‘no promises’ again.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

#sanders sides fan fiction #sleepxiety #sleepxiety fan fiction #virgil sanders #remy sanders #dani writes

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thearvariblues · 4 years

Text

The Bard and The Wolf - Chapter Two

(AKA Geraskier in the Metal Band AU you didn’t know you needed)

The second chapter of my Fic That Was Supposed To Be Short But Definitely Won’t Be. You can also find it on AO3, if you want! :)

The masterpost for this fic can be found HERE.

2 – Breathe, Buttercup

Silence fell when he walked into the Kaer Morhen’s rehearsal room, and he immediately started to question his choice of clothes.

Yes, he was wearing the same tight black pants as he did the last time. But he’d rummaged through his wardrobe and found a V-neck black T-shirt and a long black vest to go with it (and it might have been a ladies’ vest, but he quite honestly didn’t care), and also a pair of heavy leather boots he used to wear when he was sixteen. His eyes were framed by black eyeliner, and he couldn’t resist putting a little bit of lip gloss on his lips.

He was convinced he looked stunning, until he saw all the band members staring at him.

God, was he trying too hard? Come on, those were metalheads, he clearly wasn’t one of them, why was he even…

And Geralt’s face was completely blank, Christ, but his amber eyes went a little wider. Was it disapproval? It had to be disapproval.

Luckily for Jaskier, someone decided to speak before his anxious brain could force him to turn on his heel and run.

“Oh, wow,” Renfri said. “You look gorgeous, buttercup.”

“Uhm,” Jaskier blinked, his racing mind coming to a sudden stop. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Lambert grinned. “Definitely looks much better than the pink shirt you were wearing last time.”

“That was magenta, not pink,” Jaskier said automatically.

“Right,” Lambert laughed. “As if there’s any difference.”

“Well, actually...” Jaskier started, but then Geralt smirked.

“Actually, there’s a massive difference, according to Ciri,” he said. “When I said I wasn’t sure if the pink shirt would fit our image, she rolled her eyes and said Jeez, dad, that was MAGENTA. I got a bit lost after that, so I don’t know what exactly the difference is, sorry.”

“Honestly, I don’t really need the explanation. He was pink. He’s not pink anymore. That’s good enough for me,” Lambert said.

“Ciri’s gonna be disappointed, though,” Renfri commented. “She was so looking forward to taking you shopping to find you something proper to wear...”

“She still can. I mean, those are my only black clothes,” Jaskier smirked, gesturing to his attire. “And it took me ages to dig out that T-shirt. Also, there definitely isn’t any mysterious hole on the back I had to cover with the vest, oh, no. And I have literally no proper accessories, except for the boots, and they’re like twelve years old.”

“Well, look who’s taking his new role as a metal singer very seriously,” Eskel nodded. “I’m starting to be glad Geralt insisted on giving you the chance.”

“I think that’s enough,” Geralt said, shooting Eskel a seemingly warning glance. “We should start.”

“Oh, good. Are we gonna introduce ourselves like we’re in school?” Eskel smirked. “Name, instrument, favorite drink...”

“No need,” Jaskier said. “I mean… For names and positions. Eskel, drums. Renfri, guitar. Lambert, bass.”

“And how do you know that?” Lambert said, cocking his eyebrow.

“I’m least likely to have sex with you. So you have to be the bassist, obviously,” Jaskier shrugged.

“And since he knows the lyrics to White Wolf, he’s obviously seen us play live before, Sherlock,” Renfri grinned. “Just out of curiosity, who are you most likely to have sex with?”

“A gentleman doesn’t tell, darling.”

“Is it Geralt?”

“Enough,” Geralt growled. “I wasn’t even going to say we should introduce–”

“I think Jaskier should definitely introduce himself,” Eskel said. “We should have more information about him before we decide whether we want him in the band or not.”

“Right. Sure,” Jaskier nodded. “It’s fair. So, my name is Jaskier, as you all know. Yes, technically it’s a stage name, but it’s also the name I prefer. I like fine wine, fine music, fine… company.”

“If this is the way you’re trying to tell us you’re gay...” Lambert smirked.

“Bisexual, in fact,” Jaskier smiled. “Pansexual, technically speaking.”

“Cool,” Lambert nodded. “I mean, that’s fine. Renfri and Geralt swing both ways, too, you know.”

“You really don’t know when you should keep your mouth shut, do you, Lambert?” Geralt sighed. “Please. I am trying to get somewhere here…”

“Can you play any instruments besides the guitar, Jaskier?” Lambert went on.

“Yeah, I mean, of course. I can play many instruments, really, really badly,” Jaskier grinned. “But I can definitely play the piano. And keyboards, of course. Also violin. Guitar, piano and violin are the only ones I play good enough to be able to teach them. Oh, and I can play the lute, of course, how could I forget!”

“Oh dear God, he can play the lute,” Lambert sighed. “I mean, of course he can, he’s a bard, after all, but still…”

“Just out of curiosity, what do you do for a living, Jaskier?” Eskel asked.

“I, uhm, teach music?” Jaskier replied, biting his lip. “There’s several people I tutor, and of course I am also a lecturer at the local university. Uhm. I didn’t mean of course, of course, I mean I happen to be a lecturer...”

“Breathe, buttercup,” Renfri said, clasping his shoulder. “Nobody’s judging you. Right, guys?”

“Sure not,” Eskel smiled. “So… you have a degree?”

Jaskier bit his lip.

“Yeah. Yeah. That’s right. A degree.”

“Jaskier?” Renfri said, lifting her eyebrows.

“It might be more of a doctorate,” Jaskier muttered. “In music education.”

“But that’s awesome!” Renfri beamed. “Finally someone who could teach Lambert to keep the rhythm!”

“Ha ha, Renfri, ha ha,” Lambert snorted. “Or he could teach you more than four chords, eh?”

“Nah, I don’t need more than three, usually,” she shrugged. “Right, Geralt?”

“Maybe you will, now,” Geralt smirked. “If Jaskier decides to become our songwriter, too.”

“Oh, I could?” Jaskier said, turning to Geralt with his eyes sparkling. “I mean, you don’t have a songwriter?”

“Yen wrote most of our lyrics, and we made the music together as a band,” Geralt sighed. “I’m not the best with words.”

“No shit,” Lambert smirked.

“Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh, boy, I’m gonna have a field day here. Oh, yes, baby, this is Jaskier’s time to shine!”

“Aaand you’ve just released the beast,” Eskel chuckled.

“I’m gonna write you so many great songs!” Jaskier laughed.

“Right. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Geralt said. “Before you do that, we need–”

“Renfri, honey, you’re gonna need way more than three chords, I assure you. But don’t worry, I’m a great tutor! I’m only gonna beat you a little.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed, trying hard to stifle a laugh.

“Oh, my dear hearts, I’m everything you’ve been waiting for! I’m gonna–”

“Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s speech came to a sudden hslt, and the bard shut his eyes firmly and bit his lower lip.

“Geralt?” he peeped.

“Before you do all that,” Geralt smiled, “we need you to try and play a few songs with us. All right?”

“Yeah. Of course, of course,” Jaskier nodded vehemently. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, of course. You may yet find that I am just a shitty folk singer, completely unfit for your epic… metal… songs. Right. For the record, you do have lyrics for your songs somewhere, right? Because though I really love Song of the White Wolf, I’m afraid I really don’t know your other songs that much, and...”

As Jaskier was rambling, Geralt’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the screen. A text from Ciri.

So… Are you keeping him? it said.

Geralt looked at the bard, who was currently talking about the importance of singers knowing their lyrics even in their sleep, and smiled as he typed the reply.

He’s an idiot.

Is that a yes, dad?

Geralt chuckled.

It’s a yes.

Jaskier accepted a glass of alcohol from Renfri’s hand. He was a quick learner, because he didn’t even think about asking what exactly was in it.

“So. I don’t want to sound too eager, but...”

“You’re in,” Geralt said. “If you want.”

Jaskier stopped with his glass halfway up to his lips. Those were currently too busy grinning to be able to drink at the same time.

“Seriously?” he asked. “You’re not kidding, right? It’s not some kind of a horrible, cruel joke? Valdo Marx isn’t gonna jump up from behind the couch and laugh at me for believing I could be a part of Kaer Morhen?”

“You’re really in,” Geralt answered him. “And no, we are not going to slap a wig on you and pretend you’re Yennefer, either.”

“Good. That’s good. I don’t really think I could pull that off. So… What now?”

“Now we keep practicing,” Geralt said. “For the Battle of the Bands, you mean?”

“More like for the gig next week,” Renfri muttered.

“A gig next what?!” Jaskier exclaimed. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! You’re expecting me to be able to sing a gig with you next week?”

“Relax. It’s a short one. Only thirty minutes,” Eskel said in a vain attempt to sound encouraging.

Jaskier raised his hand and put it firmly on his chest.

“Right. Only thirty minutes. Oh, dear. I’m having a heart attack. I’m dying. You are expecting me to learn… I mean, there’s just no way...”

“Come on. You’re a clever guy, aren’t you?” Lambert smirked.

“Next week. Next week...” Jaskier groaned.

“Don’t panic, buttercup. It’s gonna be fine,” Renfri said, clasping his shoulder. “We can meet tomorrow and keep practicing.”

“No, not tomorrow,” Geralt shook his head. He was the only one to have the decency to look somewhat apologetic. “I’m playing D&D tomorrow, and if I cancel it again, Vesemir’s gonna find me and skin me alive.”

“Oh, that’s just great!” Jaskier said, spreading his arms wide. “The fate of the band is at stake, we desperately need to practice, but the lead singer… Wait. Did you say D&D?”

And that was how Jaskier ended up sitting in a living room of a guy called Vesemir (an old friend of Geralt’s, apparently) the next afternoon, being introduced to a bunch of new players who also decided to join the campaign.

“I’m not really new,” he explained to Vesemir. “I just… kinda used to play with the guys from my former band, and since we’re not exactly on speaking terms right now, I’m looking for a new group, that’s all.”

“Great. Less explaining for me then,” Vesemir nodded. “Now, about your character...”

“Oh, yes, a very surprising choice,” Geralt muttered. “A human bard named Jaskier, who would have guessed.”

“Oh, look who’s talking, witcher,” Jaskier growled.

“My god,” Vesemir laughed. “Now, this is going to be interesting.”

“What is going to be interesting?” Geralt asked, rolling a dice in his fingers.

“Nothing, nothing. If you’re ready, gentlemen, we could start. Our story begins in a little village called Posada...”

“Good, you’ve passed the perception check, so… As you are threatening the sylvan, you suddenly realize there’s someone standing behind you. What do you do now?”

“I turn around and defend myself, what do you think?” Geralt growled and rolled the dice.

“One. Oh, great job,” Jaskier sighed.

“Shut up, Jaskier. I’m not the one who’s been unconscious for the past five minutes!”

“Yes, my poor eighteen-year-old baby bard got knocked out, that’s why he needed the mighty witcher to protect him!”

“Well, that didn’t really work,” Vesemir smirked. “Geralt, the last thing you see is a fist heading straight for your face. And then everything goes black.”

“That’s what you deserve for rolling a fucking one.”

“I really hate you, Jaskier.”

“I want to break the bard’s lute,” said the guy playing one of the elves. Jaskier didn’t remember his name, but he’d just started to hate the guy.

“No, not the lute! Not the lute!” he yelled.

“Why exactly do you want to break his lute?” Vesemir asked the guy.

“Because I hate humans?” the elf replied.

“Fair enough,” Vesemir shrugged. “No, you don’t need to roll for that. In your anger, you break the lute in half, much to the bard’s displeasure.”

“Displeasure? Displeasure?!” Jaskier growled. “This isn’t just displeasure. I’m gonna murder you.”

“You realize it’s not a real lute, don’t you?” Geralt muttered.

“Of course. I would tear anyone who would try to touch my real lute to pieces. But a lute is a lute. You don’t just destroy lutes, not even fictional ones!”

“He just really loves lutes,” Geralt explained to Vesemir.

“You don’t say,” the man replied. “Geralt, what do you do now?”

“I try to convince the elves to leave the bard alone. Apparently,” Geralt sighed when Jaskier looked at him with big, blue puppy eyes.

“Oh, thank you, thank you. Fucking finally!” Jaskier clapped his hands. “Now, just don’t screw the… Aaand it’s a one again.”

“Jaskier, I’m really starting to regret taking you here...”

Some thirty minutes later, the game had ended and the “elves” had left the apartment. Jaskier wasn’t convinced they would be coming back. They seemed like the types who only wanted to try playing, and trying once was more than enough for them. But Jaskier definitely was coming back. If Geralt didn’t mind.

“Right,” he grinned when he realized Geralt wasn’t about to get up and leave any time soon. “Thanks for the magic lute, I guess.”

“Who said it was magical?” Vesemir smirked.

“I’ve told you I wasn’t a newbie. I know how these things work. That lute is definitely magical.”

“Geralt, seriously,” Vesemir laughed. “Where did you find this guy?”

“On the pavement in front of our rehearsal room,” Geralt said. “His band just kicked him out and he desperately needed a drink.”

Vesemir’s eyes narrowed.

“Geralt?” he muttered.

“All right,” Geralt sighed. “Jaskier, this is Vesemir. He’s kind of… our band’s manager.”

“Not kind of,” Vesemir said. “Geralt. Talk.”

“Yennefer’s left the band. Yes, again. For good, this time.”

“Oh, great. And you were going to tell me when?”

“Right now, as you can see. I mean… hear.”

“Awesome. So Jaskier here is…”

“Our new singer.”

Jaskier raised his eyebrows. Oh, boy, was Geralt really starting to seem scared of this guy?

“Geralt, I’ve already told you,” Vesemir sighed. “You can’t choose new band members by picking up random weird kids from the street!”

“Why not? That’s how we got Renfri after Coën left.”

“You mean Renfri, who hadn’t even held the guitar in her hand before she joined the band?”

“She got good, though, didn’t she?” Geralt grinned.

“So what about you, eh?” Vesemir said and turned to Jaskier. “Can you sing, or do you just look pretty?”

Jaskier smirked and took a deep breath.

“When a humble bard...” he sang softly. “Graced a ride along… With Geralt of Rivia… Along came this… song...”

“Yeah,” Geralt smirked. “He can sing, but also play and write lyrics and music.”

“No, that’s too good to be true,” Vesemir shook his head. “After all these years, you’ve finally found someone who can do that? Well, welcome on board, kid!”

“I’m not really a kid,” Jaskier commented. “And about that lute…”

“Yes, yes,” Vesemir nodded. “It’s definitely magical.”

“Yes! I knew it!”

The next day, at four PM, Jaskier was doing his very best to try and ignore Ciri, who was busily buzzing around him with her phone’s camera pointing in his direction.

“Just act natural,” Geralt said, for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. “Focus on the guitar and pretend to sing.”

“I’m trying,” Jaskier growled. “Why are we doing this, anyway? I mean, I know, you want my photo for the post about me becoming the new singer, but can’t you just use an older pic of me?”

“Shut up and play,” Lambert sighed. “Though I still think we should take a photo of you both, Geralt. Our two singers.”

“That’s not happening,” Geralt’s husky voice rasped and Jaskier lost his concentration once again.

“Why not?” he asked. “We’ve got such a good chemistry together, and I’m just… me. I’m telling you, Geralt, if you only post me, it’s gonna be a horrible shitstorm.”

“I agree with Jaskier,” Ciri said. “You should definitely be in the pic with him.”

“No,” Geralt growled. “Just play. We have been here for an hour already.”

“Twenty minutes,” Renfri said and reached for her own guitar. “And only because you’re a stubborn cock. Hey, buttercup. Teach me that song, what was it called? The Fishmonger’s daughter?”

A huge smile spread across Jaskier’s face as his fingers started to dance on the strings.

“Oh, fishmonger, oh, fishmonger, come quell your daughter’s hunger,” he singed softly. “To pull on my horn as it rises in the morn. For ‘tis naught but bad luck–”

“And I’ve got it,” Ciri announced. “What do you think, Renfri?”

“That our buttercup looks absolutely adorable,” the guitarist smiled, looking over her shoulder. “Good job, Ciri. Now we only need to write the post.”

“Great,” Lambert commented. “That’s gonna be a piece of cake, isn’t it?”

Continue with Chapter Three

#witcher fic #witcher fanfiction #geraskier fic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the bard and the wolf #my fics

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writersmacchiato · 5 years

Text

Fluff Alphabet | Neville Longbottom

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

When he first saw you, he thought you were beautiful. Though it was your smile that caught his attention and he spent many afternoons daydreaming about it, always bursting out into a violent blush when you directed a smile his way.

You loved his eyes. How they seem to twinkle when he talks about something that he’s passionate about, how they light up when he sees you.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why? Why not?)

Neville might want kids at some point, but he’s not in a rush and if you don’t want to have children, he wouldn’t mind either. For him, having you, your plant babies and Trevor Jr. is more than enough for him and he loves your family as is.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

He likes to curl up against you with his head on your chest and his arms wrapped around your waist, your fingers combing through his hair.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Neville likes to plan small, quiet outings where you can both be comfortable. Often times, a picnic by the lake or walking through town and window shopping. If he wants to be romantic, he’ll dress up and cook dinner for you at home. Going all out with candles, wine, and flowers.

E = Everything (You are my _____ (e.g. my life, my world))

“You are my reason for smiling everyday.”

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Neville fell for you so quickly and easily, he thought it was embarrassing. It was during his time at Hogwarts with you, after a particularly awful session of Potions where it seemed that Snape had it out for him - more than usual. You trailed after him, grabbing the sleeve of his robe.

“Are you okay?”

He shook his head, “I will be.”

You frowned, but tugged him along. “We’re going to the lake.“

“Why?“

“To cheer you up, of course.”

He followed after you, listening as you ranted about how awful and unprofessional Professor Snape was, with a pounding heart that was a pile of lovesick goo.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Neville could not be rough. Even if he tried. There is not anything in his being that would permit him to be anything but gentle.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

When you first started dating, Neville had a hard time showing affection. Not because he didn’t want to, he was just shy and awkward. And, coupled with the off-looks he received — it was awkward. However, hand holding is the first thing he got down. He loves it. Will hold your hand at every given opportunity.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Neville noticed your kindness; how you stood up for others, helped them with the smallest of things...and wanted to be able to know you. He could be content with being your friend.

J = Jealously (Do they get jealous?)

He doesn’t get jealous, it’s more of a sad wallowing. His self-esteem is pretty low and you’re way out of his league, or so he thinks. Whenever someone comes along and flirts with you, rather than stepping in (he knows you can handle yourself anyway) he tends to drift away as negative thoughts plague him. You have to coax him back to you with kisses and reassurance that you love him.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

His kisses are soft, hesitant almost, but sweet. He has a hard time believing that you would want to be with someone like him, so he makes sure to cherish you.

You kissed him first. It was after a ‘date’ and he was walking you back to the dorms when you stopped and gave him a small peck on the lips before scurrying away. Neville’s poor heart almost gave out on the spot.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

He does.

You had just moved in together, it was only a few weeks in and were planning what to put in the garden. There was so much available space and the ideas were limitless. Neville was practically heart eyes looking at you as you rambled on about how there should be different quadrants for the patches to best utilize it. You then mentioned making room for a greenhouse, knowing how much Neville adored the ones back at Hogwarts.

“Merlin, I love you.”

You look at him warmly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too. Now, where should we put it? I think on the south side, because that area gets the most sun.”

Yes, he was in love with you.

M = Memory (What’s their favorite memory together?)

You shield your eyes, casting a look over the beach. The sun was only just beginning to rise over the horizon, a soft glow of yellow glistening over the water.

“This is perfect.” You say, grinning back at Neville. He can’t help but stare at you; seeing how the light makes your face glow, the tired but happy look in your eyes.

This is perfect.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Neville doesn’t necessarily spoil you with gifts, but with acts of services and quality time. He would rather plan an evening in with you, relaxing and romancing you than to gift you something. Although when he does, it’s thoughtful and something you thought he wouldn’t even notice.

O = Orange (What colors remind them of their other half?)

Green — he first properly talked to you in the greenhouse, during a class, and since then he’s associated green with you. Plants are his passion and he’s lucky enough to have you interested in it, even if it’s only for his sake.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Sweetheart and darling are his go to.

Q = Quaint (What is their favorite non-modern thing?)

His grandma gave him his mother’s wedding ring and for a long time he wore it around his neck, but then he took it off one day to clean it. He thought he lost it and was in near hysterics when you got home, reassuring him as you helped him look. It was under the bed, but he realized then he wanted you to have it.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

He enjoys curling up with you and just relaxing. Sometimes, you’ll watch a movie or read books, but he’s content with whatever as long as he’s in your presence.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Whenever he feels particularly upset, Neville will go outside to the garden and spend time with the plants there. This is normal for him, but he likes the familiarity of it, how it makes him feel in control.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

He can spend hours on end just talking about plants; all the facts he knows, new and old. Telling you the proper way to handle such and so, or how some of the plants are misbehaving. When he becomes a professor, he enjoys talking about his classes and students.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

For Neville, all he needs is some time in the greenhouse or garden and if you’re there? Perfection. Sometimes, if he’s feeling particularly stressed out, he’ll walk out to the pond that’s on your property and just sit out there for hours. That’s when you know to give him some space.

V = Victory (What is something they overcome? Are proud of?)

Neville thinks it’s a little stupid, but there used to be a plant in the garden that every season would wither away without fail. It was one of your favorites and he was determined to keep it living. And yet, nothing he did seemed to make a difference. He was doing everything right, by the textbook, and it still perished.

You had told him it was okay. But the next time he was planting seeds, he carefully placed them in a small pot and brought it inside to your bedroom — already full of plants. Every morning when he woke up he would place three drops of water, two drops of nectar, and a sprinkle of ground up cinnamon on the plant. You woke up when he let out a victorious shout months later after the same routine was followed. When you looked at him in confusion, you were shocked to see the plant fully grown looking perfect.

“You did it!” You exclaimed, tumbling out of bed to wrap him in a hug.

He grins, sweeping you off your feet in his excitement. “I did!”

W = Wild (What is a wild dream/wish/fantasy of theirs?)

Neville is content with his life, it’s turned out much better than he ever expected or hoped for, his wilder dreams are...well, we won’t say; this is the fluff Alphabet after all.

X = XOXO (Do they write love letters?)

Neville actually loves to write letters to you, so much that you’ve come to expect them for every birthday and anniversary. They’re always so sweet, tissues at the ready before you read them. You collect them all in a shoebox and Neville’s face was burning red all day when he accidentally found it.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

The idea of marrying you is a dream he often has, waking up with a smile and his heart about to burst when he sees you laying across from him. However, the idea of proposing to you is terrifying and it twists his stomach into an anxious mess. He knows you love him, but would you want to marry him?

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Neville gets a toad and names him Trevor Jr. and constructs an elaborate habitat for him both indoors and outdoors. You’ve walked in on him talking to TJ before while attending to his plants.

———

Everything tag list: @venusstarlight108 @knivestheresnothingtoit @yajairayellow @awesomefaith14 @ardentmuse @salladwinston @maddieb97222 @anchy-bananchy @staygoldponebone @unique05sstuff

Harry Potter tag list: @p-adfoot

#harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom imagine #fluff alphabet #im sobbing let me be a co parent for plants with neville #i already have three beautiful plants #im a good plant mom 🥺#neville wife me up

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fics-not-tragedies · 5 years

Text

Vanishing point: Chapter Three

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

This chapter wouldn’t be written without @ladyreapermc who helped me A LOT with the plot for this one, so thank you so so much darling, you’re wonderful!

Words: 3559; Warnings: smut; Summary: Juliet confesses to John about her biggest secret and when they’re back on Continental grounds she finishes one business all by herself.

Readers tag list:

@spookier-than-u; @sparrowsparrow; @oreofenyloetyloamina; @derangedcupcake; @geostarr; @catsmieow; @wickedlangdon; @bodhi-black; @bugalouie; @onebatch--twobatch; @fandom-lover-4; @mikaneonox; @drunkonyellow; @spadesandaces2342; @harrisongslimited; @a--1--1--3; @hhighkey; @lunilate; @i-cant-remember-my-old-login; @sgt-morgan; @coloursunlimited; @childrenofthegun; @weminiaturestrawberry; @silverlambcaptain; @scarletmoon83; @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day; @krazycags01; @charlottebonnie; @moonlit-raven-haven; @girl-at-the-verge;

“I bet you shot a gun before?”

Juliet blinked, opened her mouth to answer, but closed it, blinking few times before she decided to say something out loud, “Why are you asking?”

Wick had been silent throughout the whole ride back to Continental until now, rarely looked at her when she slid onto the seat right next to him, the drive felt like years instead of mere minutes and she wasn’t watching how he was handling his car gracefully, instead of that her eyes were glued to the road. The veil of silence that fell upon them made her question all of the things she was planning, making her doubt if they were right.

“Out of pure curiosity” he mumbled, when they stopped right in front of Continental. Surprisingly he opened the door for her, giving her a helping hand in getting out of the vehicle.

“There’s nothing pure about curiosity” she said when John gave his car keys to the valet boy, “Of course, but only the small ones... I feel like Santino deserves to be killed with something bigger.”

“So you want to shoot him with a big one, huh?” they both walked into the reception, the Concierge giving them both a small nod, before he slid them their room keys placed on a piece of paper across the front desk without even saying a word and moved to serve another pair of clients.

“Yes, but perhaps stick it up his perfect Italian ass firstly.”

John handed her the key to her room along with the small note, “Perfect ass? Do you still have feelings for him?” his eyebrow twitched slightly, the movement didn’t went unnoticed by her and she took the key from his hand making sure their palms will touch.

“The one and only thing I feel for him is raging hate” she looked down at the piece of paper before squeezing it in her hand, “and all I want is to destroy him.”

“But did you ever shot somebody?”

She swallowed, licking her lips, her hand squeezing around the piece of paper tighter, “I haven’t shot just somebody...” she sighed, it felt like he was after something, that he wanted to know everything about the circumstances that made her fire a gun, especially because they were supposed to work together.

“I hope you’re not trying to keep something from me, Juliet?” he drawled, the way her name rolled off his lips was unbearable for her, made her knees weak and all she wanted now was John taking her from behind on one of the leather chairs in the lobby, “You know me, Juliet, if you wish to betray me better do it now.”

She inhaled deeply, biting down on her lip, Wick’s eyes following the slow movement of her teeth sinking into her plump bottom lip, still covered in the rogue shade of her dark lipstick, as she hesitated again, a gasp leaving her mouth. The see-through material of her dress was like an invitation for him to stare at her chest for longer that he ought to, but he just couldn’t help herself, even though he knew it wasn’t polite to stare at women like he was. Of course her outfit wasn’t an invitation to behave like less of a man, but there was something captivating in every piece she wore, no matter if it was something overly revealing one like this or a pair of simple black jeans. She looked like a goddess and he had to admit it.

Juliet was well aware that there was no way she could lie to him, “I tried” she said, then when the shade of impatience appeared across his face, she quickly added “but I didn’t hit him… not directly.” With another hard swallow, she decided to speak before another awkward pause could overtake her “It was basically just a graze… a self-defense maneuver.”

His eyebrows shot up, the surprise on his face worth more than a thousand words, “Who?”

She rolled her eyes and gasped again, “It was when I was still with Santino, I…”

He wasn’t listening to her mumbles, all he wanted was to get his question answered directly without playing any games. “Who was sit, Juliet?” he asked, his tone able to cut through diamonds.

“Him” her eyes were looking everywhere but John, gaze dancing on the furniture in the background.

“Santino?!” he asked her and she just silently nodded in response. John swore he could see a hint of fear flickering across her face, “Is this the reason why you left?”

“No, it wasn’t the main reason. He thought he could own me at some point” she tried her best to stop her lips from trembling, to speak as calm as she could. The way he was still staring at her, waiting for further explanation was making her even more anxious, “Thought he could keep me locked in a fucking golden cage, like I was his pet or something.”

His jaw tensed, stare darkening, a hard swallow made his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, “What happened?”

Juliet quickly shook her head few times, like she tried to get rid of the tears that were forming in her eyes, “After I killed his two henchmen who scarred me, because he told them to do so, when he thought I was the one who betrayed him... I-I grabbed his gun but I’d never shot the one he owned before, I wasn’t thinking in that moment, so I doubt I even tried to aim properly. I just… it was a moment.”

He nodded slowly, “But… you wanted to kill him?” he managed to ask, his mind absent now, too focused on forming a list of reasons to kill the youngest D’Antonio heir.

“I think that was my main plan, but I was too consumed by my anger, I couldn’t think straight… the bullet I shot just grazed his collarbone, I bet he still has a scar in that place. That’s why I stopped you in first place John, because the anger took the hold of you and you were out of your mind. I made that mistake earlier and I just couldn’t sit and watch you do it too” she finally looked him in the eye, his gaze still dark, somehow it scared her.

Despite the fact that he felt respect for her, for what he did both times, he tried to ignore his growing attraction trying to focus on showing his power, “I’d make sure he regret everything he did.”

Her eyes widened, “No, no, we’re both into it now” she blurted out, “Don’t exclude me from the pleasure of hunting him down.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, “I know we have the same issues with him, but it feels like he harmed you way seriously…”

“Nothing even happened” she assured him, “he didn’t hurt me directly.”

“But he fucking did it indirectly, he told his men to harm you, to cut your back… to scar you for the rest of your life and that’s not the proper way to care for a woman like you…”

“John…”

One look was enough to silence her. He adjusted his bloodied tie, smoothed down the tactical material of his raven suit, shifting his body, moving his weight from one leg to another.

What he did over time was learning to disregard anything that was somehow disagreeable, but still he had to admit she was right. There was no need and no use for his overly emotional reaction, but somehow he felt like it was needed.

“Are you… worried? About… me?”

His eyes focused on her face, staring back into the depths of her eyes, “Do I have a reason to be worried?”

She swallowed, “Can I do anything to…” Juliet shifted closer to him, placing her free hand on his arm, holding her breath in anticipation for any kind of reaction.

John leaned closer to her, his lips close to her ear, “Perhaps not here and not now, everyone is staring at us and I hate that. Do you fancy a drink?” he asked her like it was the most usual thing in their community.

“The universal medicine for your wounds and my shattered heart?” Wick just nodded his head and she laughed a little, letting him lead the way to the bar.

The eyes of everyone were on them, but she didn’t gave a single fuck about it. She knew that it was the dress that was gathering all of the stares, which was fueling her ego, making her think that she was the one that mattered in those seconds when they both were parading up to the bar and sitting comfortably on the high bar stools.

“Do you have any other secrets?” he leaned onto the dark wooden counter with his elbow, so he could face her.

“I am full of secrets John” the bartender didn’t really had to ask them about their orders, just placed a full glass of bourbon and another one filled with perfectly chilled prosecco, “my life was based on mysteries, that’s why I’m still here” Wick slid one gold coin towards him and he accepted it without saying anything.

She sipped her drink slowly, her eyes scanning his face, trying to figure out what he’s thinking right now. There’s something dark in his eyes, something she can’t name and somehow she gets scared that he became overly worried after hearing what happened.

The bartender slid another note right next to her now empty glass and nonchalantly she took it into her hands, her eyes widening at the sight of the handwritten letters.

“I’m afraid I have to leave for now” she read the words scribbled on the piece of paper again, “but why don’t you wait for me in your room, I’ll meet you there” she crunched the paper in her hand before leaving him by the bar with a little wink and disappeared from his view behind one of the columns, before walking into the hall, her tall heels clicking on the marble flooring in front of the elevators.

Juliet entered the brightly lit elevator and clicked the button with the floor number, looking at herself in the mirror. The bit of paper she still had in her hand seemed to burn a hole in her skin. She was still looking fierce, her lipstick wasn’t smudged, the way the material that was barely there was hugging her body made her look like a goddess.

The doors opened with a sound and she stepped into the hall, noticing that the doors she was supposed to walk through were guarded by Ares. She looked at her with something in the eyes that resembled pity mixed with shame and without singing anything to Juliet she just took one step to the side giving her access to the doors.

She wasn’t bothered with knocking, so she just pressed the door handle and sauntered inside. To her surprise the lights were dimmed, something soft was humming from the record player by the window and she moved further, her heels sinking in the fluff of the carpet. Doors closed behind her with a clicking sound and for one moment she thought it all was a set up.

Until a familiar hand gripped her by the wrist and pulled backwards, “Bella” voice rasped and he was spun around, so she could face him.

She let out a shaky breath, her face flushed with embarrassment, “I know I shouldn’t come here…”

The words nearly made his superiority go up in smoke, his hand trembling a little and he tried to hold her gaze and appear untouched, “Bella you have no shame as it seems…” he made a pause, swallowing hard, bringing his hand to the back of her neck, her body curved towards him instantly with merely a graze of his touch and he closed his fingers around her neck, gripping tightly, “Are you lonely? Did you missed me? That’s why you’re here belissima?”

She whimpered when he squeezed her neck, the sudden switch of mood she flicked in him was almost too much.

“I asked you a question pupa, please be a good girl like you were.”

“Y-Yes…” she whispered.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward, he chuckled darkly, let go of her and walked over to the leather armchair, sinking onto it, before nodding downwards to his lap, “Just suck it, so che vuoi.”

Juliet bit her lip, unable to believe how easily it all went by now and she lost no time dropping to her knees to undo his belt buckle, watching with wide eyes as he reached into his tailored suit trousers and pulled out his cock, looked at her, unmoved, making a barely noticeable nod.

She took in a deep breath, gasping loudly when he forced her down onto his length when she wasn’t moving fast enough and almost choked around his cock when he forced it down her throat and she gripped his thigh, nails digging into his skin through the suit, her eyes watering from the burning sensation.

A low guttural groan escaped his lips, his fingers winding tight into her hair and just when she felt like she couldn’t hold on, he pulled her up, looking at her with wild eyes.

He let her breath for few moments before he forced his cock down her throat again, growling loudly when she swirled her tongue around him, her lips wrapped around his shaft tightly and she swallowed hard around him, again, again and he became worried for a moment thinking that he took it too far, letting her take another breath and he groaned again when she kept her lips wrapped tightly around him, before his tip slipped out of her mouth. She was panting loudly and looking up at him with wide eyes.

“You wanted my cock, bella, so fucking take it in your pretty little mouth…” he drawled, unimpressed, pulling lightly at the handful of his her he gripped tightly in his hand, his jaw clenching as he was desperately trying to be quiet, to not let out any strangled moan, “Just don’t leave any lipstick marks sul mio cazzo, pupa.”

She breathed out shakily, “Santino, I-I…”

Her cheeks were bright red she was about to say something back, but she was too scared to disobey and took his cock into her mouth again and pursing her lips to merely suck him with the inside of them, starting to bob her head up and down once he let her, her throat closing around him when he kept her pushed down to stay in her hot mouth, groaning quietly, his head thrown back but his eyes still focused on her movements.

He enjoyed this too much and he wasn’t going to miss a second of it, “Il problemi, pupa?”

She gasped, her heart racing as she looked back at him, “I forgot how big you were, Santino…”

He groaned, her words fueling his ego, yet his body was still tense, “Tutto qui, pupa… I forgot how much I liked it…” he drawled, fingers still tangled tightly in her dark silky hair, as he pushed his cock past her warm lips again, a louder moan escaping his lips.

Juliet whimpered, doing her best to accommodate to his size and pleasure him the way he deserved, moaning around him desperately when she heard his reaction, sending vibrations up his skin, fueling his groans even more. She was gagging to hear him, hear how good she made him feel, forcing him to lose control even more and she drew back to look up at him, slowly starting to stroke him, “How you like it, amore?” she asked, spreading the precum and her own saliva on his length.

His eyes darkened, “Non prendermi in giro, puppa” he growled through his gritted teeth, swallowing hard.

She hummed, licking her lips. “Why don’t you moan louder for me, Santino?”

He gripped her hair tightly, but then chuckled a little, “Mmmm, I might, pupa… but only if you work hard enough.”

Moving her head down instantly, she swallowed around him, whining when he pulled on her hair again and she took him back into her mouth, starting to bob her head faster, trying not to choke on his cock, desperate to impress him.

“Does this make you wet pupa? Are you dripping under this dirty little dress? Would your panties be soaked, if you’re even wearing any?” Santino groaned despite his efforts in trying to remain silent, his teeth pressing hard into his bottom lip, trying hard not to lose himself in the superb feeling of her hot mouth wrapped tightly around his length.

He was considering cumming on her face, marking his territory, showing her where she really belonged and he knew she would love it and he was losing his mind with barely the image in his head, knowing to which room she’d be wandering to after she leaves him again, this time forever.

When she started massaging him with her hand where her mouth didn’t reach a blush crept onto her face at the thought of him being overly possessive. It was the way he was acting right now and the fact that she was never like that back in their days. When she met him he was younger and way more… soft. It seemed like the killing business hardened him.

Santino’d slip up and moan every now and then, the way his hips reluctantly bucked upwards into her mouth making her gag around him.

It was him getting closer to orgasm, but she was mimicking the volume of his groans, the sound of her lips on his cock, the sounds she made were almost louder than his suppressed moans of pleasure, making him gasp desperately when she came up for air again but her hand instantly took over the job and before he could put her in her place again she leaned down, kept her wide eyes on his as she took solely his tip into her mouth, sucking needily on him.

He was getting close, half of the pleasure how badly she wanted him and it drew him in so much that he could hardly punish her for disobeying him, obsessed with the innocent expression on her face while the most obscene sounds rose from her lips, getting him closer and closer.

“Are you going to cum for me, Santino?” she coaxed, her eyes begging as much as her swollen lips.

Juliet was stroking him again, drew his attention down to the contrast of her flawlessly painted nails against his cock as her long fingers flew up and down his shaft, then went to massage his balls and his eyes snapped back up, mesmerized by her confidence, by her shameless need.

“I’ll do anything you want, bello…” she drawled, “anything for you…”

He groaned, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

She licked her lips, eyes fixed on his, “Just relax…” she whispered, the words rolling off her tongue in the dulcet tone of her voice, “I’m not going to kill you now” her hand gave his cock a gentle squeeze, then started moving faster again, “but I know there are many women willing to kill to be in my place right now…”

The way she hummed, lowering her head again made him wheeze, “Mmmm, yes, Santi, you’ve got full control, so powerful…” she knew he was close but she wanted to make sure that his ego was fueled properly,. “You’ve got everyone bowing down to you, including me…”

He forced her head down again, moaning louder, “Just fucking take me, finire quello che hai iniziato, pupa...” he groaned loudly, his head dropping backwards again.

She struggled to breathe around him but slurped and swallowed around him again, swirling her tongue, sucking eagerly and she felt him twitch at the back of her throat, a low groan of relief falling from his lips as he came and held her down, kept his pulsing length buried inside her hot mouth as she drank it all down.

Just as she felt like she couldn’t hold on, he drew her head back by her hair, the intensity of his blues eyes locking with hers, making her heart skip a beat before it started to match the pulsing emptiness between her legs, fast and overwhelmed and she looked down at his cock, licking her lips, satisfied that despite her promise his whole length was covered in lipstick stains.

The door opened and tall, dark haired woman in skimpy dress walked inside.

Juliet raised to her feet and leaned over Santino, slapping him with such force his head flew to the side, the sound of her hand meeting the skin on his rosy cheek bouncing of the walls.

“So you needed me only as a warm up? Before…” she scanned the woman with rage in her eyes, “before the main course.” Her hand shot up to slap him again and he flinched in the seat, having nowhere to run and her hand meet his face again leaving another red imprint, “Your taste in women got more fucked up with age” Juliet said while walking past the woman and through the still opened door, walking slowly to the hallway, then closing them behind herself with a loud thud.

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gamerwoo · 5 years

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Seonghwa: Facade (Part 3)

Characters: Seonghwa x female reader (featuring Hongjoong)

Genre/warnings: royalty au, sorta arranged marriage au, slowburn, fluff, a little bit of angst

Word count: 3,301

Summary: Being an assassin, you’ll do anything for anybody as long as they can pay for it. However, you might’ve met your match after meeting your next target, Park Seonghwa, the prince of the kingdom. It’s not that his fighting skills match yours or that he’s even a little suspicious of you – it’s how he has a heart of gold, cares so deeply for his kingdom, and would do anything for you despite the fact he has only just met you. So now you have to make a choice: fail your orders and accept death…or kill the man you’ve fallen in love with.

a/n: IT’S SEONGHWA’S BIRTHDAY SO I’M POSTING A DAY EARLY LMAO

Previous | Next

Day 17; 10:41 -- 73 days until deadline.

You hadn’t seen Seonghwa since that day that you saw Hongjoong for the first time while he watched you and the prince. Somebody would come to your bedroom and apologize on Seonghwa’s behalf for not seeing you, but it wasn’t until the day before that you were finally told he was sick -- by Hongjoong who could tell you were anxious because nobody would tell you what had happened. Seonghwa was your target, so you thought he’d either found out and was actively avoiding you, or plans had changed and nobody told you. Either way, it made you nervous.

“He didn’t want you to know because he didn’t want you to worry,” Hongjoong had explained. “He’s not deathly ill or anything, it’s just a stomach bug.”

So three days had gone by since he had first gotten sick, and you’d been in your room all three days. You were starting to get bored, even with Hongjoong coming in to ‘check on you’. Nobody else in the castle seemed to give a shit about you except for Seonghwa, which made no sense since everybody thought you were going to be the new princess and then queen. You thought the people that lived in the castle would pay a little more attention to you. You may have had a mission to do, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t ‘befriend’ anybody while you were staying there.

Instead of suffering another moment of boredom, you waited until the castle had gone mostly quiet before sneaking out of your room. The halls were much darker than you’d ever seen them since you’d never snuck out of your room other than to climb out the window and shimmy down the vines that climbed up the side of the castle, but you knew this was good since it meant everybody was asleep. So you made your way to the kitchen and tried to throw together a soup as quickly as possible. It was one you would make for Mingi or any of his friends when they fell ill, and you’d learned it from a sweet midwife whom you’d had to stay with for a mission before. She claimed it could cure any stomach bug, so you paid extra attention when she made it -- even though you knew it couldn’t actually cure anything.

Once the soup was made, you held the bowl of soup between both hands and made your way to the prince’s wing of the castle. Despite everybody seeming to be asleep, you kept your steps soft and light, and your senses sharp just in case somebody happened to be lurking. You were sure most of the guards were still awake, working in shifts to protect against possible intruders or any other dangers.

When you’d reached Seonghwa’s door, you balanced the bowl in one hand to knock softly. You didn’t hear a reply, but you slowly opened the door anyway, peeking your head inside.

Seonghwa laid in bed, his face illuminated by the fire in the fireplace across the room. His eyes were barely open, watching the flames as they made the wood crackle every now and then. He didn’t even look at you as you slipped into the room -- a task that was much easier with this thin, milky white dress that you were given as a nightgown rather than the stiff, thicker dresses you had to wear during the day -- and closed the door softly behind you.

“Seonghwa,” your voice was quiet when you spoke his name.

Immediately, his brown eyes flashed over to you, a tired smile spreading over his features, “Darling, what are you doing here this late? I don’t want you getting in trouble over me.”

“I heard you weren’t feeling well, so I made you soup,” you told him, bringing the bowl over and setting it on one of the two nightstands.

Seonghwa pushed himself to sit up. His cheeks were flushed pink, and there was a very light sheen of sweat on his forehead that made little strands of blonde hair stick there. When the blanket fell away from him as he sat up, you saw the fancy attire he had to wear wasn’t on his body, either -- not that you expected him to wear fancy garments to bed, but you didn’t expect him to be shirtless. You’d been around plenty of shirtless men before, so you weren’t sure as to why you felt your cheeks heating up. You blamed it on the warmth from the fire that was across the room.

“How’d you find out?” he frowned as he reached over for the soup with the spoon resting in the bowl. “I told everybody to keep it secret from you. I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

You just shrugged, coming up with the best excuse you could, “If we’re to be married, worrying about you is something I’ll be doing often. May as well start now.”

Seonghwa chuckled as he stirred the soup slowly, “I guess that’s true.”

He ate a spoonful of soup, humming softly at the taste. He seemed to like it enough to eat more of it, but he didn’t comment on it like you assumed he would. You raised your eyebrows at him while watching him eat another spoonful, his eyes meeting yours and pausing with the spoon in his mouth.

“Hmm?” he asked around the spoon.

You laughed softly, “Good?”

“Mm!” he took the spoon out of his mouth and swallowed, putting the spoon down and nodding eagerly. “Yes, it’s very good, darling. Thank you for making it for me, I greatly appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. I learned the recipe from...a kind woman from my home.”

“It tastes a lot better than the soup they’ve been giving me, actually. It tastes more...like...home. Does that make sense?”

“No,” you admitted with an amused laugh.

“The soup I’ve been eating tastes like the fancy stuff we eat at dinner parties and whatnot,” Seonghwa explained, ignoring the fact that you were technically laughing at him. “This tastes like what I imagine soup made by your mother would taste like after hours of playing outside in the snow and coming in to warm up. It tastes like home -- warm, happy, and made with love.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, shaking your head, “That was very cheesy, Seonghwa.”

“Yes, but it’s true,” he stated before eating more of it.

Seonghwa continued to eat and continued to keep thanking you for making him anything so late at night. You reassured him it was no big deal since you typically stayed up late anyway, but then he started lecturing you between coughs on the importance of getting enough sleep. You promised you were getting enough sleep, but he wasn’t having it -- even as sick as he was.

“Once we’re married, I can always make sure you’re sleeping the proper amount,” he nodded to himself.

“Shouldn’t you be worrying about yourself? You’re going to cough up a lung,” you joked. “And speaking of sleep,” you began, standing up and taking the almost empty bowl from him and setting it on the nightstand, “you need a lot of rest to feel better.”

Seonghwa flashed you a dazzling smile even though he was pale and flushed, “Tuck me in?”

“Are you a child?”

“No, I just want my fiancee to spend more time with me.”

“Weren’t you just telling me to go to sleep earlier?”

“Then sleep beside me.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes, “Okay, now I’m sure this fever is messing with you.”

Seonghwa whined softly as you gently pushed on his shoulders, making him lay down before you pulled the covers up and tucked him in anyway. He grabbed for one of your hands, holding it with both of his, “At least stay a little longer. Until I fall asleep. I haven’t seen you in three days.”

You sighed, looking into the puppy dog eyes Seonghwa was giving you -- the same eyes you’d seen from Mingi whenever he wanted something, too. But you knew you had to continue to act the part, so you gave into Seonghwa with a slow nod.

“Fine, I’ll read to you until you fall asleep,” you decided.

Seonghwa smiled and released you from his hold, allowing you to walk over to one of the few bookshelves in his room. He watched you the whole time, thinking you were absolutely stunning like this -- no makeup, no fancy hairdo, and a simple dress that showed off the curves of your beautiful body but was also very plain and let your own natural beauty speak for itself rather than being too overpowering from the intricate detailing. Like this, you didn’t look like every other noblewoman he’d seen -- you were even more beautiful. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t checking you out and admiring you.

When you’d finally chosen a book, you went back over to his bed, sitting on the edge and angling yourself to face him. Seonghwa reached up with one hand, cupping your cheek and stroking it softly with his thumb.

“I didn’t think it was possible to think you were more beautiful than I already thought you were,” he murmured, realizing this was the first time he was seeing you without all the extravagant clothing and makeup. He’d never just seen you before.

Your cheeks blushed pink under his touch, your eyes falling from his face to the bedding you sat on. Your heart started beating quicker, but you knew it was just an involuntary response to the compliment.

“Your fever is making you delirious,” you chuckled before you opened up the book and began to read to him.

Seonghwa knew he wasn’t delirious, and he knew he had never seen anybody as breathtakingly beautiful as you, but he would have to wait until he was better to convince you. So, for now, he kept quiet and let you read, listening to your every word until his eyelids began to get heavy. Your voice was just so soothing and nice to listen to that it began to lull him to sleep.

When you’d noticed he’d fallen asleep, you closed the book and placed it on the nightstand beside the bowl. You stood from the bed, made sure he was tucked in properly, and then went for the door, trying to keep as quiet as possible. You spared him one last glance as you opened the door, his slightly sweaty skin glowing from the dim light of the fireplace. It was no secret Prince Seonghwa was beautiful, but he was even more beautiful with his face completely serene, his full lips slightly parted as he slept.

You quietly slipped through the door, silently and slowly closing it before turning around to leave. That was when you jumped and let out a quiet gasp seeing somebody right in front of you.

“What are you doing?” Seonghwa’s uncle demanded in a hushed tone.

“He’s sick, so I went to take care of him,” you explained. “He’s asleep now.”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, “Why would you do that? You’re not actually falling in love with that retched boy, are you?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes slowly just so he knew how dumb he sounded, “I would never fall in love with my target, sir. I’m simply doing what any fiancee would do. I have to act the part, don’t I?”

And with that, you walked past him and down the hallway that was only dimly lit by candles, making your way back to your room.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Day 19; 23:52 -- 71 days until deadline.

After the little stunt you pulled two nights ago, you weren’t allowed to visit Seonghwa anymore. You were told it was because they were afraid of you falling ill as well, but you knew it was because Seonghwa’s uncle was mad at you. You didn’t really care if you got to take care of him or not, you just wanted something to do to keep you from rotting away in your room from boredom. However, one of his maids came in to ask you how to make that soup because Seonghwa refused to eat anything else. You got to go down to the kitchen for a day to make a large pot that they could reheat whenever Seonghwa got hungry.

That only kept you occupied for one day, though. So now you were back to sitting in your room, reading whatever books you had, doodling on whatever stray papers you could find, and staring out the window while you daydreamed of doing anything other than sitting around a bedroom. You did visit Mingi the last two nights, but you could only do that for an hour tops. It didn’t keep you from getting bored during the day.

But that night, you were debating on going to find Mingi again. You knew sneaking out too much would get you in trouble, so you tried not to go check up on him every single night -- he was an adult, anyway. You just missed your brother, and you hated feeling so useless and just bored all the time.

A soft knock on your bedroom door had you turning away from the window that you sat at to look out at the night sky.

“Come in,” you called softly.

When the door opened, you expected to see the grumpy old man giving you a stern look and ready to interrogate you. But instead, you were met with quite the opposite -- a handsome prince with a dazzling smile. Seonghwa quickly closed the door after he entered, walking over to you with soft steps as you stood up.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him in an urgent whisper.

He chuckled, “Nobody can hear us. I just wanted to thank you for the other night. I haven’t gotten to seen you since, so I snuck out. I assumed you got caught since my uncle specifically told me I couldn’t see you until I was better.”

Seonghwa took one of your hands, holding it up against his before slowly lacing his fingers through yours. You stared at the way your hands intertwined as you tentatively did the same. You weren’t sure if you liked these small gestures now or if you were just getting used to them being done.

“You didn’t get in too much trouble, did you?” Seonghwa asked softly, fluttering his eyelashes at you while he held your hand to his chest, right above his heart.

You shook your head, “No, he just asked what I was doing in your room unsupervised and after hours. I’m sure he was more upset with any guards around than me.”

“If anybody bothers you, you send them to me, alright? I’ll deal with it.”

Then, Seonghwa did something you weren’t expecting. He bowed his head, pressing his lips tenderly against your forehead. It barely brushed your skin, but you still felt the touch. You felt your heart leap out of your chest at the gesture, but you were already composed by the time he pulled away and smiled at you.

Maybe you weren’t used to the gestures yet.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised before he let go of your hand and left your room.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, your shoulders slouching forward as you dropped your head into your hands. You had no clue what that even was. Why would he kiss your forehead like that? Anybody else you’d ever had to form ‘romantic’ relationship with only kissed and touched you in sexual ways, but Seonghwa...

There was another knock at your door, and you suddenly stood up completely straight, staring at the door like you’d gotten caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. You were positive it was going to be Seonghwa’s uncle this time.

“Yes?” you called.

The door opened, but in walked another surprise guest: Hongjoong. You sighed, letting your eyes close and your body relax.

“Good Lord, can you and Seonghwa stop with these surprise visits?” you groaned.

“What are you so tense for, _____?” Hongjoong teased as he silently closed the door.

“What are you doing here?” you countered, not bothering to answer his question.

“You and I haven’t gotten a chance to properly talk,” he shrugged, walking over to sit where you’d been sitting in the windowsill. “I spoke to you all of three minutes the other night. Haven’t gotten to go see Mingi, either. How is he?”

“He’s alright last time I checked,” you told him. “He said you had a mission in the castle.”

“And apparently, so do you,” he smirked. “Please tell me it’s that fucking awful uncle of his. God, that guy is insufferable.”

“Really? You don’t like him?” you asked, walking over to sit beside him.

“No one does. He’s the only family Seonghwa has left, though. Lord, I can’t believe Prince Seonghwa and that man are related at all. Seonghwa’s so kind and caring and loves people and nature and everything, and his uncle is... Well, he’s the devil if the devil were a tall old man with a resting sour face.”

You looked at Hongjoong curiously, “You like the prince?”

Hongjoong just scoffed as if the answer were obvious, “Who doesn’t? Prince Seonghwa is amazing -- you should know, _____. How long have you lived in this kingdom? Since you were born?”

“Yeah, but you know I stay under the radar and don’t pay attention to the law.”

“That is true. Still, he rules over all of us so I thought you’d like him, too.”

“...Should I like him?”

“Do you like him?”

You opened your mouth before slowly closing it, letting out a sigh. You looked at your lap, your hands gripping the seat of the window, “I was paid to assassinate Prince Seonghwa. That’s why I’m here.”

The silence that followed your statement told you that Hongjoong’s jaw had all but dropped to the floor. Even he was stunned by this, but you had to be truthful with him -- he was somebody you could trust, anyway.

“O-oh...” was all he said.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, finally meeting his eyes again. He actually looked sad, and you were actually sorry. “If I don’t do this, though, then--”

“Then you die,” Hongjoong nodded, “I know how it works. Don’t worry, _____, I’m not upset with you and I don’t blame you for going through with it.”

“Really?” you asked as Hongjoong stood up and walked toward the door.

He nodded, only pausing to look at you when he opened the door to leave, “I just wish it didn’t have to be him. He’s so genuine and kind and-- ..._____, I think he really cares deeply about you. I do get what you have to do, I just-- If you could ever find a way out of it, I think you should.”

“...Really?”

Hongjoong closed the door again, apparently not done talking.

“_____, do you really not feel anything toward Prince Seonghwa?” he wondered. “Not even just in a friendly kind of way?”

You paused to think about it. You did feel...something when he complimented you or did things for you or gave you gifts. At first, you just felt nothing but sorry for him whenever he was nice to you, but now you felt almost grateful sometimes when he treated you with such kindness. You could admit you didn’t think Seonghwa was a bad person, but you didn’t know what else you could say past that just yet.

It didn’t matter, though. Your opinion on him wouldn’t change anything.

When you didn’t say anything, Hongjoong left you alone in your room.

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gloomy-goober · 6 years

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Make Believe Part 4

@but-jesuschrist-im-never-good @vergeangst @louvrejpeg @here-to-vent @justanotherpurplebutterfly @holdnarrytight @fangirl4ever07 @twinkly-lights @fandomsandanythingelse @that-space-gay-writes @abstractedthinking @fandomsofrandom @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

A ROMAN’S KINGDOM SPECIAL! 1, 2, 3, 4!, 5

Note: This takes place late highschool-early college. Not sure where it fits perfectly into the time line of GUPoaW but I wanted to do a thing that was more fantasy but based in this universe.

Daring sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise! What could be more amazing than a world that can be shaped to the whim of the pure creative energy of a man? Or could it be something terrifying as pure energy can sometimes run without reason?

The sun hung low in the sky as the part of four exited the woods. The faces they wore barely told of the hardships they had endured to get this far in their quest. Two of the four wore the blood of a fearsome gorgon, both riding a blinding white steed.

The other two rode together on a brown steed, their conversation dying as they spotted a village set against the backdrop of the setting sun.

“Are you sure this is the village you told us about?”

Patton’s voice broke the silence that had settled over the part when the town had first been spotted on the horizon. It had been a long ride after Logan had his feet turned back to flesh instead of stone, only whispered conversations happening and the occasional request for the water skin they shared.

“Of course,” Roman answered and glanced back at the moral side, “Why do you ask?”

Morality did not look at the prince; his gaze locked on the steadily growing buildings.

“You spoke of it like it was an amazing, lively check-point. It kind of looks abandoned.”

Roman did not answer.

The man had a point. The road they were on had no one moving to at least come home from the market. The closer they got the more they saw just how empty the streets were. The light of the sun had not yet disappeared, but all the people had.

The path they traveled on slowly changed from dirt to cobblestone which made every step of their horses seem louder then they were.

“This is not good,” Anxiety mumbled from the back of Patton’s horse. The anxious trait voiced what the other three were thinking.

The village had an ominous feel to it.

He has a point. Roman thought briefly before he shook it off.

“Nonsense,” the prince said out loud, “The inn should be just up ahead. We can get a room, maybe even find a change of clothes for me and our unlucky wizard and be able to rest so we can leave come sunrise.”

“Sunrise?” Logan said the word in a question form of doubt and Roman waved his hand.

“Sunrise, morning; same thing.”

“Not real-.”

Roman made Darling speed up a little to cut off his riding companion’s point. He did not want an argument over word choice; he just wanted to make sure they were all safe for the night.

Even with his fake confidence he could not help but send wary glances at every building they passed. Sometimes he would see curtains moving as if people were spying on them.

What happened to the welcoming people of this village? Is this another threat we must face as we travel forward? I had not planned on one being here.

“The ‘Rainbow Otter’?” Anxiety’s condescending tone pulled Princey back from his inner thoughts. “Really, Roman? That is what you thought would be a good name for an inn?”

“It’s so cute,” Patton giggled as their horse stopped near the entrance of the place. A sign hung above the old door with the faded picture of a multi-colored otter. Rusting letters spelled out the name of the inn.

Roman pouted and slipped off Darling’s back after he slowed her walk, “Old-timey inns were named after color and an animal.”

“Yeah, but usually they are cool like ‘The Red Rat’ or ‘The Black Eagle’, not a rainbow otter.”

Roman helped Logan off the back of the white horse and sent a glare over to the darkly clad side still on Patton’s horse’s back.

“I couldn’t choose a color, so I chose rainbow. You are just mad that it isn’t something as dark and emo as you.”

Creativity looked away from the other to stare at the door. Usually patrons would be bustling about outside the inn; most just coming to get a drink after a long day’s work. Now the usually happy place was silent.

“Are we even sure that this place is open?” Logic asked skeptically.

“Of course it is, probably just a slow day.”

He squared his shoulders and walked up to the old door to knock with more confidence then he was feeling at this present moment. The long they stayed in the village the more the feeling of unease burrowed into his mind.

He waited expectantly for the friendly face of the inn keeper to let them into the warmth of the common room. Instead, Roman got a wary eye peaking out from a crack in the door before it was opened to the even more wary face of a man usually so filled with life.

“Oh, your highness, I did not expect you,” the man’s voice was shaky as he looked around the empty streets. “I am afraid you have come at a bad time.”

Roman felt a rock plummet into his gut. This would be another side-quest; not that he minded but they had barely left the last one.

“Reg, what is going on? The city seems to be dead, I have never seen this place so quiet.”

Reg twisted a rag nervously in his hands.

“It is nothing to trouble yourself with, my liege. It seems you have enough worries already,” he nodded his balding head to the mess that was on Roman’s once white outfit. “I assume you are here for the night. If it was not so pressing for you to move on out of this town I would ask Marge to have a look at this mess you made of yourself.”

Roman put a gentle hand on the Reg’s arm to try and calm the man’s nerves.

“I could care less about my state of dress-.”

“That’s a surprise,” someone mumbled behind him. Roman chose to ignore him.

“I want to know what had scared all of these good people so terribly that they are hidden away before the sun has even set.”

Reg looked at the prince and then at the three that stood behind him. With a sigh he opened the door to the inn wider.

“Get your horses into the stable and come inside. It is not safe out here,” the inn keeper said and then moved back into the building.

The four sides looked at each other with worried glances; the uneasy feeling had only enhanced with the cryptic words that Reg had given them.

“We should leave,” Anxiety broke the silent. His hood down to look at them all with a worried expression, “It is obviously not safe here.”

“We would probably not find proper lodgings for a few more hours if we did that,” Logic countered, “As much as I do not like the feeling of this place I also do not think we can go much longer with just eating road-side berries. We are already low on water.”

“And if these people need help we should help them,” Roman added in as he started to lead the two horses to the stable area next to the inn. Darling and Patton’s horse seemed to be the only animals to be staying there for the night. Meaning that they would be the only people in the inn for the night as well.

“But-,” Anxiety wanted to protest but cut himself off with a sigh. He seemed to understand there would be no way to convince the others to head the warnings they place was giving off.

Patton placed a hand on the youngest’s arm in a comforting gesture as the three followed Roman into The Rainbow Otter.

The common room was empty except for Reg and a young woman, barely over nineteen, behind the bar. There was no fire in the fire place, the bar had a lack of patrons, and the tables did not look like anyone had eaten from them in days. It was a sad contrast to what Roman was used to.

“Roman,” Marge smiled and revealed a small gap in her front teeth, “it is great to have you back here.”

“And it is wonderful to see you too,” the prince flashed his own smile though it faded fast, “I just wish it would be a happier welcome. This place seems to have turned into a ghost town.”

Marge’s smile faded, and she set down the glass she had been messing with, “Yeah. It really is a sad sight, ain’t it.”

She put a smile back on her face, though it was smaller now, “But not as sad as the state of you. I have never seen you so messy in all my years of knowing you.”

Marg moved out from behind the bar and tisked at the sight of his stained white clothing.

“You look like you got green paint dumped on you. What were you up to, Ro?”

“Marge.” The call of her name broke away the girl’s teasing and she looked over at Reg. “They have had a long ride. No more teasing until they are given some clothes to borrow and some dinner.”

“Yes, father,” she sighed and looked at the other three that had come in with the prince curiously before she turned and left the room.

“I am sorry about that, your highness. She has been insisting that you could help with this issue since it started but everyone else in town has their doubts.”

The inn keeper moved over to the fire place and crouched in front of it to light it.

“What exactly has been going on, Reg? You keep alluding to it but haven’t told me what it is.”

Reg looked at the fire that he had started and then at the earnest face of the prince, then looked at the other three that had followed him in. For a second, the prince believed he would get a direct answer. Instead the man stood up and put a weak smile onto his face.

“It would be rude to worry new guests, your highness. I would rather make you as comfortable as possible, especially as it is I find myself under the rare circumstance where I have completely new guests in my establishment.”

Creativity sighed as Reg pushed past him to greet Patton, Logan, and Anxiety.

“Welcome to The Rainbow Otter, my daughter named the place when she was still a young girl,” he chuckled, “I hope you find your stay to be comfortable.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Logan said and got a more genuine smile from the inn keeper. “But I believe that my compatriot had asked you a question that you have yet to answer.”

The smile on Reg’s face dimmed and then disappeared as his trial for a distraction was pushed off by the new guest.

“Ah, I cannot lose this topic easily.”

The man sighed and wiped his brow. He looked to Marge as the girl came in carrying the clothes the four would need.

“You four should get cleaned up,” Reg said and held up a hand when the prince went to protest. “Get cleaned up, I’ll get dinner ready, and then we can talk. I don’t want you attempting anything, but I will let you know what is happening in this town.”

He moved over to the bar and opened a drawer. A second later Roman held two keys in his hands while Patton took the clothes from Marge.

“You know where the rooms are, your highness,” Reg said, “Two to a room. Just like always. I would give you each your own room but there is always that slight chance that I need the other two.”

“Thank you, Reg. You are always too kind to me,” Roman gave a smile and then turned to lead the four out of the common room and up the stairs were a small hallway lined with four doors was located. The rooms that they had been given were directly across from one another.

Creativity unlocked the doors and then looked at the three; an unasked question hung in the air.

When the silence became so intense that one of them had to step forward with the answer; the person being Logic.

“Creativity with Anxiety. Me with Morality.”

“What!?!” Roman and Anxiety said the word at the same time and then looked at each other in disgust.

“Why would you make that decision? After all that we have been through.”

“That is exactly why I made this decision,” Logan adjusted his glasses and took some clothes from Patton’s arms to hand over to Anxiety. “I am mixing up the order so that we have a less likely chance of rising tensions out of too much contact. Since I have ridden with you all day, and Patton with Anxiety, I have split us accordingly.”

“But why not you with Anxiety if you want a change?”

Logan was already leading Patton into the room across from the stunned two, the logical side turned to look at them both and then a small hint of a smirk appeared on his face.

“Because I said so.”

And with that the door closed.

Creativity sputtered in shock at the very abrupt exit Logic had just made.

“B-because he said so!” His voice was higher an octave out of the pure shock of the situation.

Logic knew that Creativity did not like Anxiety. This was all a plot to get him to suffer for twelve hours. Was it not already terrible that he had to be stuck on an adventure with the emo side.

Anxiety seemed to be thinking the same thing as he moved into the room, set down half of what he had been handed, and then moved to the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Roman asked.

“To see if we can get another key. I don’t want to spend the night with you and you don’t want to spend the night with me. Seems like the best option.”

The prince watched as Anxiety moved down the stairs and hurried to follow.

“Now hold on a second, I never said I did not want to share a room.”

“You made it pretty clear with your reaction,” Anxiety countered. “Besides, wouldn’t I just ‘give you nightmares’ or whatever you believe I do.”

Roman grabbed the younger side’s arm and stopped the decent, making Anxiety turn to look at him. The side almost shrank back from the intense glare he was receiving.

“Now you see here, Anxiety, I don’t trust you.”

“Knew that already.”

Roman’s glare hardened, “I don’t trust you, but I am not allowing you to go down and ask for another room key.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am going to prove to you that I can get through the night with us in the same quarters.”

Anxiety raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

Roman let go of the other’s arm and stood up taller, “I will not have anyone thinking I fear such a thing as you. Villain or no, we are on this quest together, and trust must be built if we are going to survive.”

The prince moved fast and leaned down so their noses were almost touching; voice moving into a low whisper. “But mark my words, Anxiety, this does not change anything outside of this world. Once this quest is through we will go back to our normal lives.”

Anxiety moved down another step as Roman turned around and made his way back upstairs. The prince knew the anxious side would not go down to ask for another key from a complete stranger, so he did not have to worry over that.

As he entered his shared room in the inn, he only briefly looked over the clothes he had been allowed to borrow before he began to change out of his ruined uniform. Belt and jacket peeled off slowly with a sickening sound because of the dried blood of the gorgon.

It is just one night, Roman. It is just one night.

He pulled the clean, white shirt over his head and gave a small sigh he changed into the simpler trousers that clashed greatly with his more expensive traveling boots. He was grateful for what his friends in this inn had provided, none-the-less.

Pushing any worries about the coming night, he left the room and headed back into the common area, not surprised to find himself to be the first one down. Anxiety he had passed as he came out of the room, the side seemed to have thought it wise to wait for the prince to leave before he went back in. Logic and Morality were probably talking upstairs.

He could hear Reg and Marge in the kitchen; talking too quietly for him to make out what they were saying.

With a small smile, he got comfortable in front of the roaring fire and let his eyes slipped closed. This inn always made him feel so at peace; a little family he had made for himself when he wanted to get away from the stress of being one part of a whole. Reg and Marge, and once upon a time Ann, had always welcomed the young adventurous prince into their home with open arms.

To see them so worried made his stomach roll with nerves; his happy smile lost as he opened his eyes to stare at the crackling flames in the fire place.

There was still a fire in a village to put out just a day’s ride away. A fire that people were depending on him to stop after he got the enchanted goblet. Logan was right back when they faced the gorgon, they could not allow themselves to get distracted by side-quests if they wanted to find the end to this twisting tale.

“I don’t think I have ever seen you so lost in your thoughts before.”

The prince jumped at the voice and he turned his head to look at the person that had crept up behind him.

Marge stood there with a smile, hands behind her back.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping your dad?”

She shrugged and took a seat beside him, “Your friend, Patton I think, told me to mosey my way out of there. Apparently, he wanted to help to repay us for the kindness. Told him it was no big deal, but he would not listen.”

“Sounds like Patton,” Roman gave a chuckle and chased away the last of his lingering thoughts.

“He is a swell guy. How do you know him? Just happen to be traveling the same way or something?”

Creativity held back a grimace and glanced away from her, “Ah. It is a long story, but I have known these guys most of my life.”

“Really,” Marge sounded shocked, “They your family? I mean, you guys do look pretty similar.”

“Like I said, long story, but I guess they kind of are.” Roman coughed and looked back at her. Fast to change the subject, “So, how have you been? Last I heard from you, you were thinking about becoming a traveling singer. What happened to that dream?”

Marge shrugged and looked away from him with an embarrassed blush, “Ah, that was just a silly dream. My dad needed me after my mom died and I just…I guess I grew up.”

“No dream is ever silly,” Roman said, “I think you should still go for it. Maybe not traveling but in town. You never know what could happen.”

Marge chuckled and gave him a gap-toothed smile. “That is what I like about you. Always encouraging people to follow one’s dreams; wish everyone could have your way of looking at life.”

“What do you mean?”

The girl leaned back in her chair and shrugged, “I mean, we all got to grow up sometime and that can mean giving up dreams. I didn’t want to run the inn but now I can’t think of anything else I could do.”

“You could sing. Be a wonderful performer known throughout the kingdom,” Roman suggested.

“Yeah, I guess,” the way Marge said it made it clear to Roman that she did not believe what he was saying, “But I like it here. Sometimes you got to make sacrifices for living or for love.”

Anxiety and Logan came downstairs at that moment. Both looking rather plain in their borrowed clothes. Logic almost looking how he normally did back in the mind palace in the simple garb instead of the robes. Anxiety looked slightly more comfortable, but the dark, hooded cloak stayed around his shoulders in place of his usual hoodie.

Roman only gave a passing glance to them before he looked back at Marge.

“I don’t understand,” he admitted.

“Sometimes dreams can change,” she said and poked the fire to keep it going, “I used to want to sing for a living now I am happy to take over the inn. Maybe just sing in the main square or in here…if things ever get better. Point is that I don’t think I want to be a world-renowned performer anymore. Too much work.”

Roman wanted to protest, encourage her to fight for the dream she used to talk his ear off about, but there was something in her eyes that made him hold his tongue. She looked happy with this new path of life. Content to stay in the inn and take care of it for her father.

“If that is what will make you happy,” the prince said and gave her a smile. “But always remember I am here to help you no matter what path you choose in life.”

Marge snorted and pushed him with her shoulder, “You are a right old sap, you know that?”

“But I am your sap,” he teased back to help break the serious moment that had fallen between them.

“Yeah, any sappier and you’ll be a tree.”

“A might oak. For all to gaze at in awe.”

“More like a twiggy little apple tree that can only make one red apple.”

Roman made a noise that showed just how ‘insulted’ he was, “Rude.”

Marge just stuck her tongue out in return. The two of them falling into giggles at their sibling-like banter.

“I missed you, Ro. You need to come by here more often,” Marge said with a light smile, “If this problem ever gets fixed.”

“Soups on!” Patton’s shout broke the moment and they looked back at the bar where the man stood. A bright smile was on his face as he waved them over. “Come and get your dinner, kiddos!”

Creativity sighed and rolled his eyes in a good-natured way. Leave it to Patton to be excited about serving dinner.

“Does he call everyone ‘kiddos’?” Marge asked as she stood up with a small stretch.

“Yes, well, not Logan. Least I have never heard him call Logan that.”

Marge nodded, “Interesting. You know the strangest of people.”

“Yeah, the evidence is in yourself.”

She pushed him, and he pushed back with a laugh. Both raced each other to the bar first so they could get the first serving of their dinner.

The joyful air that they had made for each other did not last long as they settled around the largest, round table in the common room of the inn. The nervous air of the town filtered into their small homey room as they eat the stew that had been given to them. The sides sat shoulder to shoulder with Roman at one end to be next to Marge.

The usual dinner jokes did not come about. About halfway through the meal Logan finally had enough with the tense silence.

“I think now is the time we should address this before the, ug, ‘feeling’ in the air drives out appetite away.”

Roman set down his fork and looked at Reg, who sat next to his daughter and at Patton’s side.

“Yes, I supposed now would be a good time to give you answers. I have kept you here longer then you should have been.”

“We wanted to stay,” Patton consoled with a smile. “Do not blame yourself for our stubborn nature, sir. You have been very kind of house us for the night.”

Reg gave the heart a smile, but it quickly slipped away as he poked at a potato at the bottom of his bowl.

“A month ago, it just started without any warning,” he began; not looking up from his food.

“At first it was just a begger or some petty thief, no one really noticed except for a keen few. Two weeks ago, it started to happen to more honest folk, ones that people did notice.”

“What happened, Reg?” Roman looked at the inn keeper with deep concern.

“Kidnappings. They started to happen every so often but lately two or three people will be taken in the middle of the night without no one knowing,” Reg sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Is there a pattern with these disappearances? Any reason that those that were taken were?” Logan inquired.

Reg just shook his head, “At first it seemed like it was going off the easiest to get but now it seemed to just take whomever. Maybe it thought that those people would not be missed or that they were easy to get targets, I don’t know. But whatever is taking them is taking them real easy; as if no one tried to stop it…no even the victim.”

A silence stretched over them.

“You called the kidnapper and ‘it’,” Anxiety suddenly spoke up and all the heads turned to the side that still hid under his hood. He shrunk under their gaze but pressed forward with his point. “Why do you think the kidnapper is not a human?”

“Son,” Reg looked into the shadow of Anxiety’s hood with a serious expression, “I know everyone that comes and goes out of this town even if they don’t stay in this place. Whatever is taking the good folks of this village is not something that is human. Nothing of the human kind would be able to take so many people without being caught.”

A shiver of fear ran through everyone in the room; Anxiety seemed to shrink further into his hood. Reg was giving them all an unspoken warning to stay away from it and move on in the morning.

“But that is why it is a good thing Roman showed up here,” Marge suddenly said to break the chilling silence that had blanketed them all.

“Marge, not this again,” her father sighed but the girl would not give up her argument.

“Roman can help this. He fights tons of monsters all the time. He can save all this people…he can save Julia.”

She looked at the prince at her side with wide eyes. Roman knew that she desperately needed her help but he was not even sure what he could be facing or even where the captured people could be. All he had for a lead was a few lights in a manor that was used often.

“I do apologize, but we do not have the time for such a thing,” Logic turned the attention of Marge to himself. His calm exterior almost acting like a shield to her heart break.

“What?”

“We area already on our own ridiculous mission. We cannot afford more delays as it is; while this is very troubling to yourself I believe it is better if we continue on our path and Roman return later to help you with this problem.”

Marge’s eyes, usually so filled with fire, brimmed with tears. Her dinner forgotten she looked at Roman with hope that he would counter his companion’s words but all she got was an uncertain look. That was all she needed to leave the table crying, her dinner left to go cold.

“Logan!” Patton stood up and put his hands on his hips, “That was not very nice. She needs our help to save her friend and all you want to do is get out of this as fast as possible.”

“I was merely stating the facts, Mo-Patton. We need to end this silly quest as soon as possible. The longer we leave Thomas without our aid, the more danger he could be in. I am unsure how time works in Roman’s imagination, but we cannot stay in here forever.”

“Well you could have said no a nicer way instead of like that or taken the time to see what she knows to help her. Sometimes you are just so…so…” He waved his hands around and made an annoyed noise before chasing after Marge.

“I do not understand, what am I sometimes like?”

Logan looked to Anxiety and the younger shook his head. “You messed up…you really messed up.”

He got up as well and walked up the stairs.

Three bowls now sat half empty, cooling in the night air.

“I will look into this, Reg,” Roman said at last. He placed his hand on the innkeeper’s and gave him an encouraging smile.

“What?”

Roman ignored Logan’s outburst.

“I will not leave your village in so much strife. I do not know how long this will take but I will do whatever I can to help you,” Prince looked over at Logic and then back at his friend, “Whether that be right now or after I return from this short quest with my companions.”

“Thank you, your highness, but you do not need to do this” Reg said with a sigh, “I am sorry if Marge’s upset nature is what is driving you to give us aid but we do not need it. I do not believe anything can be done.”

“That is where you lack where she prevails. Faith is something very powerful,” Roman gave a smile and stood up, “In the morning I shall investigate this manor to see if there are any clues. It is on our path, so it would not be too out of the way. If I can find anything I will report it back before we continue onward. If not, then I shall see you when our quest is done.”

“I cannot believe we are letting ourselves become distracted again,” Logic grumbled as he got up and left the table.

Reg did not seem to care as he stood up as well to take Roman’s hand with a grateful smile. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I will tell Marge immediately.”

Roman gave him his best grin and then looked at the bowls that were left on the table, “Do you want an assistance in cleaning this up?”

“I do not wish to trouble you, your highness, not after all you are doing for us and have done in the past.”

“Nonsense, what little I can give is something I shall gladly do.”

He picked up the bowls and carried them to the kitchen; humming a happy tune to himself. His mind was focused on the details that he had been given by Reg as he pours the left-over stew back into the pot.

He had to know what he should be looking for when they investigated the manor the next morning. What kind of monster only takes people that it thinks would not be missed?

Roman dreamed.

He worked tirelessly to make the perfect dream to let him rest perfectly to work hard the next day. He always knew when he could lay in bed, eyes closed, and make the perfect world to fall asleep to so he would have a nice story in his head. That is what normally happened every night.

This was not the case in the Rainbow Otter.

The prince barely glanced at Anxiety as he entered the room; his temporary roommate already curled up under the blankets with a pillow held tightly in his arms. He was kind to at least leave the lantern on for Roman, so he would not stumble his way to the bed.

As he laid down, he expected a few moments of daydreaming before he slipped off into dreamland.

Instead, he got an instant feeling of exhaustion. As he fought against his tired eyelids, he could have sworn he heard a scuffle near Anxiety’s bed. He did not have time to dwell as he drifted off into slumber.

No dreams; just utter silence in the unconscious mind

#Sanders Sides #Thomas Sanders #Growing Up Parts of a Whole #Make Believe #Part 4 #Roman Sanders #princey #virgil sanders #anxiety #logic #logan sanders #patton sanders #creativity #prince roman #morality #ocs #unedited

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austennerdita2533 · 6 years

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A/N: Here’s a Part 2 to my KC/Hades and Persephone drabble, “Fill Me with Your Kissing Death,” I wrote for AU week. It can be read as a standalone, but both parts/chapters are here under the title “Our Lips Are Raw with Petals and Pomegranate”:

(A03) (FFnet)

I’d also like to send a special shout out to the lovely Helen, @klarolinessecondbreakfast, because her stunning KC edit (here) reduced me to a flailing fangirl within seconds *cries: it’s so beautiful* and provided me with the inspiration to f i n a l l y finish this damn thing. And thanks to my beloved Sadie Sadie, @kickassfu, for listening to me bitch, moan, and complain about this story (and all of my writing) without cease.You ladies are the best!

Enjoy lovelies.

xx Ashlee Bree

Drain Me of This Blushing Neglect

Many eons ago, in a land rife with sharp, barbed edges which were thicker than mountain bone yet more slippery than a snake’s shedding skin, and throughout a kingdom forged out of tinted glass the color of dragon’s breath and oppressive temperature swings that clattered teeth or beaded flesh with sweat, a god-king paced the dim crooks and corridors of his home at all hours like a wraith. And like a wraith, he floated through his duties and demands. Lost to all dreams of delight.

It was during a time when loneliness still cracked hard along Klaus’s knuckles as well, charring blood between his bones until it drained into deeper pits of nothing because there was only empty air to hold, because there was only that whistling despondency around each muscle, around each tendon of his fists. It was in a moment, too, when midnight felt like a silk rope around his neck: exquisite in its strength and power to bind, but so tight he wanted to choke while his fingernails pried at the prickly coffin. Crying out for a rose-snowed droplet of life. Gasping for the swell of cerulean waves and dawn’s preening feathers.

As he skulked beneath the dense fog of another unbearable death-day one evening, however, a yellow daisy suddenly appeared like a vision to slip through the full but dark moon above his head. With naught but a single petal, it slithered open the center with a flawless vibrancy that made it impossible for him to blink. Eager, it seemed, to dig itself through the earth’s dirt and worms so it could wilt somewhere against the austere rock below, near his feet. Perhaps even die. For, there, in the Deadlands, the only water which existed came from tears which weren’t plucked—never plucked—but scratched from a cemetery of miserable, tormented, bloodshot eyes.

Klaus monitored the daisy’s progress with rapt attention. Curious, of course, but also flummoxed by the crumbling stones of the plum sky which fell to the ground like droplets of hail as the petal sliced its way inside. Humming vivid streaks of moisture atop blunt peaks and ashy ravines. And also illuminating the air with songbird waves that were slowly taking form. Down the center of the moon the flower cut with smooth purpose and precision, seeping into the Deadlands with a gush so it could unfurl all its spring curves before him like a million rays of honey slipping from a budded sheath.

It expanded toward him in silky green leaflets first, and in peachy feminine limbs second. Revealing to him, not a flower, but a garden of a woman not yet in full bloom. A sagacious, cheerful young woman, who, like him in a complementary way, was an outcast in a cosmos where multifaceted hopes or ambitions were stifled—blackened until they could no longer breathe. And yet…

The young maiden planted herself before him like a partially eclipsed tree: half shaded, half shining rays of gold.

“Sorry if the light stings a bit, but you’ll adjust to it in time. And to me,” she said, beaming. “My name’s Caroline, by the way.”

Like a perfectly off-kilter dichotomy, she then offered Klaus a sprite “hello” with no bow. Unafraid, it seemed, to match him eye-to-eye; nor to face him, toe-to-toe.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I thought it proper to introduce myself.” Caught off guard, all he could do was blink. “You know,” she added with a flippant hand gesture plus an anxious bounce of her toes, “since I’m to become queen and everything?”

“Truth be told, love,” he sighed and scratched the back of his neck, “I don’t recall placing an order to the Sky for a midnight bride, so I’m at a loss here. What are you saying? And how did you manage to squeak through the gates of my home without prior—ah, what’s the word?”

“Death?”

“I was going to say invitation,” he said with a twitch of his mouth, “but frankly…yes.”

“Oh, that.” Caroline rolled her eyes then snorted like the answer was obvious. “I came of my own volition, silly! I found and ate your lovely forbidden fruit.”

“You…you what!?”

“No need to pretend to be shocked or anything. That pomegranate was a devil to procure, sure, but not impossible by any means. (Personally, I think on some subconscious level, you hoped someone would find it and that’s why you didn’t obscure it from view completely.)”

“Besides,” she continued lightheartedly, “I was determined. I needed a new home where I could cultivate my extremes, and you…” she bit her lip, “well, you needed me.”

Klaus blanched for a second time, recovering only long enough to arch a brow at her.

“Don’t look at me like that. You do.” Caroline fixed him with a penetrating glance and crossed her arms. “You need me—I can feel it.”

Chuckling, Klaus mused over this last comment before billowing around her with an acute gaze so he could assess her, head-to-foot. He took in her green-thorned thumbs, her soil-hemmed gown, her hair woven through with dandelion weeds, and couldn’t help but think her an anomaly. A beautifully assertive and provoking anomaly, mind you, but an anomaly all the same.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he said in reply, “but I assure you I require nothing and no one. I never have and I never will. Moreover, the absolute last thing I desire is a spring queen.” “In fact,” he added with an air of protracted arrogance and a voice which boomed with commanding certainty, “were I so inclined to choose a bride for myself at all—which I neither am nor plan to be (I prefer to rule alone, unchallenged, you see)—what makes you think I’d dare to select one as fresh or as perky as you are, hmm?”

“Wow. Are you so greedy and bitter that you refuse to share the falling granules of Time with me? Seriously!?”

“And what if I am?”

Caroline gaped.

“You know,” she narrowed her eyes; placed her hands on her hips, “I rather expected you to be glad of some eternal company down here after all your time alone…but nope!”

“Instead, you’re nothing but a stubborn and pretentious jerk who’d rather sift along in solitary sameness, absolutely miserable, than usher in an opportunity for change and cohesion! You’re…you’re a coward! Terrified of the mere possibility of intimacy, you are,” she scoffed. “You want it more than anything, but you’re too damn afraid to let yourself have it even though I’m basically gifting it to you for free! And let me tell you, pal,” Caroline added with an arm-crossed humph and a pout, “being alone by choice is infinitely more tragic than being alone by command.”

“Pretentious jerk, eh?” Something twinged hard against his ribcage. “Coward?” It was his heart. It was his heart twingeing; it was his heart heavying in his chest.

“That’s not so awful,” Klaus said with forced apathy as he let the stinging truth of her words sink in. “I’ve been called much worse than that.”

“What?” Caroline’s brow furrowed and she softened. “By who?” she asked.

“My father…earthlings…tormented souls…” He offered her a tight, painful smile. “Anyone and everyone, I suppose.”

“Really?”

Klaus shrugged, glancing away to kick at a rock.

“I’m sorry that’s…that’s not okay. I shouldn’t have—you’re not that bad, okay? You’re just a little…rough around the edges is all.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Don’t let it go to your head or anything, and definitely do not make a habit of infuriating me, because I will throttle you,” she said, daring him to try with a look, “but I kind of like that you’re enigmatic. You’re vexing in a good way, you know? You keep a girl on her toes.”

Caroline drifted closer then, and it thrummed something deep inside of him because he could smell her authenticity. He could feel how much she meant what she said.

Soft and delicate, this spring darling was spun from thread that burned gold with candor, consideration and care; so instead of flaming into annihilation when another’s anger or pain snipped at one of her split ends, she curled herself around the wound like a compress and shined hope against it until all felt possible. Until all was healed again. Not healed in the way it once was, mind you, but doctored in a way which stitched all the residual agony together, making one feel better about the jaggedness it left behind in the end. More calm and controlled about it, so to speak.

She was nourishing in presence as well. She cultivated growth in a way that required the shoveling up of his old roots to study tangles and bends because she believed it was the only way to see where the neglect first started, because it was the only way for her to calculate when the rot would win out if there were no intervention.

(Not that Caroline wouldn’t work like hell before disease encroached that far, of course. Because she would. She did.)

Hair trickled over her shoulders like blades of grass bending in the breeze, too. It framed her in shades of mercy so blonde, and so glossy, she reeked of pure sincerity and compassion, infecting everyone she met along the way. And while the trunk of her was deep and grooved with shadows—not to mention full of thick sap Klaus smelled but couldn’t see without sawing further beneath her rings, the leaves of her were airy and graceful and constantly swaying in a fashion which he considered to be most distracting. Yet…

Also (much to his chagrin), grossly enchanting.

This young woman, who had appeared in his kingdom without beckoning, was beguiling in an unsettling way. She unnerved him with tender words and mannerisms until the distrustful paranoia in his mind began to thaw…until the cold armor of his chest started to fall with a settled plonk near his ankles.

Something about Caroline primed his ears to listen and consider before he spoke. Where, with anyone else, his mouth wouldn’t hesitant to strike out or blast.

So, why the discrepancy? What was so halting about her, how was she so melting?

She was everything Klaus shunned, after all. She was everything Klaus pertained to loath here in this jarring domain…amid these burdensome, endlessly lamenting, clutching souls.

A woman who, with a chirping voice much too high and sweet when she spoke her three-syllable name: Caroline, Caroline; plus a smile which held the promise of sharp green, yellow, blue and pink demands, and a chin stained with the red-orange juice of a pomegranate, had asked upon her arrival, if he’d clip open the iron cage around his heart for her. Wondering, sanguinely, if he’d make room for a white-blossomed girl with nothing to offer him but seeds.

But would he?

Could he?

Klaus already knew no one wanted to amble through the dank and troubled air of his thoughts, of his kingdom. Just like he understood no creature in existence thirsted for his smoldering artistry, either.

It seemed people feared the scraping of his charcoal fingertips through their heads because he tended to linger over their memories, dreams, and friendships until they shivered or sweat. The cretins never once appreciating the skill it took to sketch out every folded swoop of longing he found wound around their bones like shoelaces. Which was laughable, frankly. Truly laughable. After all, what was so hard to fathom about a king, sentenced to the dark, who knew how to paint others’ misery?

All beings shrank away from his hunger, though. They always had. They found fault with his voracious creativity and called him the Sculptor of Shadows behind his back while they tittered.

(And they were always tittering.)

Something unsettled earthen kind about the way his glare ripped them apart to draw what once was in the realm above, to paint that which was no longer their’s to hold or hide. With his eyes brushing against all the weight their hearts had to bear in life, he colored all conflict out of them and stroked it into the air for review.

Each piece was unique in its daunting, but exquisite, truth, too. No two stories, no two people, were the same.

Klaus had an innate talent for depicting with whom another’s life was shared, for how long it was felt, why it was relished, resented, or missed; and when it all came to an end—but most people hated it. Hated him for his creations. Every single one of them were unable to understand precisely why their old lives must be preserved on ghost canvasses that could echo, but could never be touched again. They couldn’t reconcile how much agony it cost him to portray things he longed to experience himself, but most likely never would.

Klaus knew, too, that no soul, dead or alive, cared for knowledge or insight into his bruising history. People preferred ignorance. People preferred not to hear.

It mattered not that his step-father, Mikael the Mighty, kicked him from the cloud-castles of his birth and into the pits of hell because he thought him a plague on the Original family—a repulsive half-blooded beast, you are; and no son of mine, he’d said before punting Klaus into the Deadlands to rot; to be forgotten; to roast in the flames like garbage—only that people distrusted the moonstruck yellow of his seer eyes more. They were eyes which stalked through so much of others’ loveliness and adventures, but reflected no such contentedness of his own in their depths.

Unfortunately, suspicion and aversion were the emotions which won out first and foremost among the once-living. It was easier for earthlings to fear him. Loath him. Misunderstand him. It was easier for them to condemn his pledge to preserve everlasting memories in death than to understand that he’d never waltz in the arms of the changing seasons himself unless he did so vicariously: through them.

Perhaps it was too difficult for anyone to believe Klaus might know something of dejection, too? Or grief. Or wonder. Or longing for something alive. Perhaps it was impossible for anyone to fathom that the Kindred of the Damned might know something of suffering, too?

“You can’t fool me, you know,” Caroline cut in like a chirping dove.

“No?”

“No.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I…” Eyelashes flicking to his face, gaze unwavering, she shuffled forward with tulips trailing in her wake to place a tentative but steady hand on his chest. “Because I hear the muffled howl of your heart full of holes—how all of that emptiness blows straight through you. It calls out like the notes of a flute every time the wind rustles in the hopes that someone out there will hear it and rush into your arms. That’s why I came. I heard it, I felt your aching melody in my veins,” she said, her voice as soft as a feather. “I still do.”

Reaching for his hand, she beamed up at him with the rose-gold softness of a million suns as she intertwined their fingers in a tender, comforting way he’d never been shown before. The gesture caused Klaus’s throat to scratch uncomfortably. His lungs tingled with the warmth of a coming sunrise, making it almost difficult to breathe.

“That doesn’t mean you can dethrone me, though, sweetheart,” he replied in a low drawl.

“It doesn’t, you’re right. But if you let me,” Caroline said with a tilt of her head and a spreading smile, “I could occupy one next to you so you always have someone by your side?”

Those words, as legend later would claim, changed everything.

For, although she left behind a small lesion on the moon’s sooty, weathered face where her perfectly-petalled tip punctured it with grace and light, she showed Klaus the finesse of bending instead of breaking. She replenished his rotted insides with laughter, with hopes of forever which tangled them together like two onyx-shamrock stems dancing in the wind. She taught him how, sometimes, a heart given freely beats louder and longer, feels fatter and fuller, and gushes softer and surer than a heart that’s taken forcibly.

Before long, Klaus realized her nectar burned too bright for him to resist the urge to close his eyes and revel in her liquid sunshine taste…so he breathed Caroline in until he was blinded. And here’s a little secret:

He never regretted it once, either.

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction #half agony half hope #our lips are raw with petals and pomegranate #this is kind of a birthday gift to myself #because no way in h e l l did i think #i'd manage to get another drabble out #before the kc valentine exchange #so happy i-can't-believe-i-wrote-this-fast day!#but also this fandom rocks my socks #so thanks for keeping me inspired; encouraged; and writing #*blows kisses to you all*#ashlee bree's writing endeavors

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fictionalabyss · 6 years

Text

Lori’s story.

Pairing : Crowley x Lori (OC) Crowley x Daughter!Reader. Word count : 2.579 Warnings : There is talk of suicide, torture and abuse. A/N : This addition piece to SLD was written solely to make up for missing information in the chapters, that I discovered had some how gotten deleted before the move. It is not NEEDED to enjoy the full series, but recommended.

Special thanks to the people who helped by giving me ideas when I was writing this piece.

This is an additional piece to SLD.

“So, Dad. Who’s going to be helping me train?”

“In here, Love.” Crowley lead you into the training room. Waiting in the middle of the open space, stood an attractive woman. Dark hair, fair skin and bright red lipstick.

“Who knew you had a type.” You mumbled jokingly at how she smiled at him, and he let his eyes linger.

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Crowley gave you a light push forward. “This is Lori, Darling. She does many things for me, and-”

“I bet she does.” You mumbled with a smirk, cutting him off, as you moved forward, earning a growl from him. “Lovely to meet you, Lori.” You smiled as you stopped in front of her.

“She’ll be training you.” He grumbled through clenched teeth, none too impressed with your antics.

“I have a lot to teach you.”

“Mhmm…” You giggled, looking over at Crowley who glared.

The smile plastered to her face was only slightly awkward. “Did I miss something?” She glanced between the two.

“Oh, just having fun at my old man’s expense, since I didn’t get to growing up.” You smiled and nudged Crowley with an elbow. “Lori, was it? Or should I call you M-”

“Don’t you bloody dare.” Crowley growled. “You might be a woman grown, but I am still your father and king of hell, and until you learn to use your power, I can still ground you. Get to bloody work.” He turned and stormed off.

“Love you too Daddy!” You called with with a laugh, and other demons in the room turned towards Crowley as he slammed the door shut behind him. You sighed happily before turning again. “So, now that that fun is over..” You held out a hand to her. “I’m Y/N.”

She took your hand, and yanked you against her. “Lesson one. Don’t let your guard down.” She placed a hand on your breast, and used her power to send you flying backwards on your ass.

“Jesus Christ.” You groaned, rubbing the sore spot on your chest. You looked up at her as she came over and held out a hand to help you up. You knocked her hand away. “I think I learned my lesson.” She smiled and gave you a nod as you got up off the floor. “I can see why my dad likes you.” You mumbled, and her smile got bigger.

You had your hands on your knees, panting as sweat dripped down off your forehead and onto the floor. “When do you feel the most powerful?” She asked. You couldn’t seem to simply tap into your power.

“When she’s emotional.” You glanced up and Crowley was sitting on a bench. He hadn’t been there moments before.

“So.. Anger?”

“Scared.” He answered, his eyes on you. Given your past, that would be your biggest trigger, and would cause your power to come out in full force.

“Fear.” Lori turned back to you. “I can work with fear.”

“Fuck you.” You ground out. If looks could kill, she’d have died again ten times over.

She laughed, but Crowley spoke. “I wouldn’t unless you wish to cease existing. She is powerful. Work around it.”

“But, Sir-”

“Work around it.” He told her angrily, shooting her a glare. “If you make her fear you, you will deal with me. She’s been through enough.” That last sentence was mumbled, but you heard him. You knew she did too.

She gave him a nod. “Very well. We will find another way around the block.”

“How is she coming along?”

“Do you really want to talk about that right now, Crowley?”

He barely glanced up at her. “I bloody asked, didn’t I?”

Sighing, her face took on a frustrated look for a moment before she schooled it. “We managed to tap into her powers-”

“And?”

She shrugged. “She’s powerful. Unreliable, at the moment. But powerful.”

His lips turned up in a smile. “How powerful?”

“You know, it’s kind of killing the mood here, Crowley. I’m standing here half naked, and you’re talking to me about your daughter.”

He finally took a good look at her. She had shed the robe she had been wearing, and now stood in a lace teddy. “Sorry, Love.” His smile widened and he motioned for her to move closer. His hands sliding up her thighs as she moved into his lap. “Just worried about her, is all. You now have my full attention. Scouts honor.”

She laughed. “Like you were ever a scout, Crowley.”

“But I do have honor.” He smiled before his lips met hers.

She moaned into it. “You are a man of your word.”

“You do hair?” You turned to glance back at her.

“I do many things.” She turned your head back to the mirror, and went back to your hair. She had been slowly earning your trust for over a week now.

“Hey, does he talk to you?”

“Your father?” You nodded. “At times.”

“Do you know why he has me dressing like royalty for a dinner?”

“Sorry, sweetie. Your father doesn’t always tell me his various plots and schemes.”

“Oh god, he’s up to something devious?” You winced.

She chuckled and glanced into the mirror meeting your eyes as she placed a pin. “He’s always up to something devious.”

“Princess?” Lori slowly opened the door and glanced in. “You’re father asked me to check in on you while he was occupied.” Hearing your sniffle, she moved into the room and closed the door behind her. “What happened?”

“I hurt him.”

“Who? Not your father, I saw him not long ago. He looked concerned but alright, though he didn’t say-”

“Sam..” You mumbled under your breath. “I hurt Sam.”

“Oh, Princess.” She moved closer as you started crying all over again, shoulders shaking. She gently rubbed your back as she sat perched on the edge of the bed. “Come now. I have something that might help talk your mind off all this.”

“Concentrate.” Lori reminded you. “Picture it in your head. Don’t doubt the image, your mind will know, as will the power. What do you see?”

Lori had been working on this with you for two days now. “You.”

Lori nodded, thought you couldn’t see it with your eyes closed. “Where?”

“Dad’s office.”

“Good. Go!” And Lori was gone.

Taking a deep breath, you held onto that image. “Don’t doubt it.” You told yourself. “Focus.” With one last deep breath, you snapped your fingers. Opening your eyes, you were in a small dark space. “Lori!” You called out, turning around and fumbling trying to find some out.

A door opened, and Lori chuckled. “Close.” As the light spilled in, you realized you were in a closet that was unused and unneeded. “You’re getting better.” She pointed out as you stepped out and sighed, leaning against the desk. “You are. You’re in the same room as me this time. Try again. Picture Franky this time. You have a connection with her, it might help.”

“I don’t know where she is!” You started to get anxious.

“Relax. It doesn’t matter. Concentrate on her. Her scent, how her fur feels. The connection you have with her. Focus, and hold on.” She watched you stand and take a deep breath. “Ready?” You nodded. “Go!”

Without thinking further, you raised your hand and snapped. Peeking your eye open, you glanced around. You barely got a good look when you were knocked on your ass, and Franky was licking your face.

Laughing, you wrapped your arms around her. “I did it!” You grinned. “I actually did it!”

“Good job, Princess.” You tilted your head back to see Lori standing nearby. “Now, let’s see if we can play a game.”

Crowley glanced up from his desk as Lori appeared before him. “What-” She held up a finger to her lips and shushed him.

“Gotchya!” You yelled, appearing behind her. “Tag, you’re it.” You laughed before snapping away.

“Darling?” He raised his eyebrows at Lori.

“Teleportation lessons. Not always reliable, but she’s learning. So we made it into a game. Shall I be joining you after dinner tonight, My King?” He gave her a nod. “Perfect.” She purred, leaning over his desk and biting his bottom lip.

He grinned, watching as she snapped away. Just moments later, a closet door slowly opened and you peaked out. “Hey, pst, dad.” He glanced over. “I’m getting good at this, huh?”

“Not good enough.” Came Lori’s voice from behind you in the closet, making you jump and squeal.

You quickly snapped away, and so did Lori. Crowley just shook his head with a smile.

“You’re really going to let her marry him?”

“What bloody choice do I have?” Crowley was obviously upset.

“You’re the king.” She pointed out. “Tell her no!”

“And what? Lock her in a bloody cage like they did to Lucifer? Probably the only bloody thing in heaven, hell or earth that will hold her.” He grumbled as he moved around his office.

“But you’re helping him..”

“She loves him.”

“So?”

“She’s been through so much already. And it’s my fault.”

“It’s-”

“It is. I bloody left her there. I should have kept a better eye on her. If anyone can keep her safe, it’s those bloody Winchesters. As much as I loath to admit it. Even I can’t seem to be bloody rid of them.” He slumped into his chair.

“Crowley-”

“Leave it.” He growled at her. “It’s happening.”

“Yes, Sir.” There was disdain in her voice.

“Drop the attitude.” He shot at her. “I don’t understand why you bloody care who she marries anyways.” He pulled a bottle and glass out of his bottom drawer, filled the glass, and drank it all down in one go.

“Because you get like this.” She glared at him. If he had bothered to look up, he might have seen the lies as she told them.

“Why?” He growled. Crowley had left her in a private room after the ‘interrogation’ with Dean. Dean had been right, he had needed to cool off or risk scaring you again. He hadn’t gotten much out of her, and only gotten more and more livid as she refused to give him a proper answer. She just said how mad she was about him having a child with a human. But why? “A real bloody answer this time.” They were standing in the hall outside the room she would be put in for the time being. He wasn’t sure what would be accomplished by the move, but Alistair knew best.

She spit out blood that had pooled in her mouth, getting him just under his right eye. “Fuck you.” Her head settled back against the rack she had been placed on, a smug smile on her face.

After calmly wiping his face, his eyes met hers and they were red. Grabbing her by the face, he dug his fingers into her cheeks. “I let you in my bed.” He growled. “I treated you above all others, and this is how you repay me? I demand to know w-”

“You loved her.” She snarled. “I did everything for you, but you loved her.”

“She’s my daughter!” He screamed in her face. “You tortured her for years!”

She laughed. “I tortured her mother first.” She grinned. “I thought it was her, you know. I thought you loved her. So I made her suffer and then I killed her. And that fucking Winchester banished me back here.” She scoffed. “That's when you finally saw me. I finally had your fucking attention. Or so I thought. Because you kept fucking going back. So I took it out on her.”

Crowley shoved her head back, banging it onto the rack and started to walk away. He felt sick. Normally, he would reward such behavior, being a demon and all, but this was his daughter.

“I wanted you to watch her suffer!” She yelled at his back. “I wanted you to watch her fucking bleed and die. A slow agonizing death like I gave her mother.” Crowley stopped at that. “I wanted her to do it herself. I wanted you to fucking watch how she couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted you to feel broken and useless, and watch as your precious fucking daughter ended her own goddamn miserable life, all because she had you for a father!”

Crowley was shaking with anger. “I gave you everything you wanted.”

“No, Crowley. I gave you everything you wanted.” He turned at that, confused. “Do you think they really wanted you for a king? They didn’t even want you in charge of the crossroads! I got you there, you MORON! I made promises, and deals! I pushed you up that fucking ladder from a lowly nobody playing with the hounds. You were just too fucking stupid to see it! I LOVED YOU! I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING AND YOU FUCKING IGNORED ME FOR A GODDAMN HUMAN!” Lori was practically foaming at the mouth as she screamed at him.

“Who did you make deals with?”

She laughed, a sickening sound as her head went back. “Everyone. You’re too stupid to see that the people closest to you are just taking what they want, and letting you think it’s you’re fucking idea.” Her body shook with laughter. “You sit there, on your throne, and you call them morons while they play you.”

“Who?” He growled, moving closer.

As she opened her mouth, a needle was plunged into her neck and the fire faded from her eyes, her head slumping down to her chest.

“What the bloody hell-” He turned to Alistair, eyes burning with fury.

“I need to move her in, as you instructed. Don’t worry, Sir. I’ll get answers.”

Crowley eyed him suspiciously. Alistair was his right hand, head of torture, taught Crowley everything he knew on the subject as he moved up in the ranks. Was he one? Was Alistair just using him? He watched as the rack was moved into the room it had been waiting outside. “Bloody hell.” He growled, and started towards his office. “You better bloody summon me when she wakes up. I will be sitting in.”

Cracking her eyes open, she glanced around and sighed when she saw the man currently across from her. “Room with a view, remind me to tip the bellboy nicely.” She quipped sarcastically.

“I know you.” He squinted his one good eye at her. “I don’t recognize the face but.. I know you..”

“I killed your wife.” She snarled at him.

His eye went wide. “You- You're the reason I’m here!?” He pulled on the restraints, anger taking over and dulling the pain he was obviously in.

She laughed. “You had it in you all along, sailor. I just amped up the volume.” She started looking around the room again. “Don’t worry, though. You won’t be in here forever.”

“I’ve been in here for centuries!” He yelled.

“No. Only feels like it. Maybe it’ll feel like a few more.”

“I’m never getting out of here, they said-”

“The king is a fucking moron, okay.” She turned her eyes back to him. “And I have people inside, and out. Trust me, you’ll get your revenge. On him, and that bitch of a daughter you raised for him.”

He settled down and smiled. “You can get me to her?”

“Only if you promise to finish the fucking job this time.”

He grinned, broken and bloody teeth showing. “Oh, I’ll finish it.”

Tagging : She’s Leaving, Dean - @mrs-celestial-dragneel-redfox23 @beccasnowflake @lexie-mo @alphaomegahybrid @smilebulldog @sandlee44 @vh1015 @evyiione @pretty-fortune @toridawn892345 @idk-wtf-is-happening @fluffyloveoreos @queen-of-moons-peace-out-bitches @chelswilman-xo @ronnie248-blog @linki-locks11

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