#and just wanted to hold and smell king’s christmas pajamas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ren1327 · 4 years ago

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Sweater Weather ch.5

Ben and Kenji watched Bumpy as she slept on Ben’s lap, Carmen sitting next to him to stroke her flank as she read her new manga, brown eyes scanning over each detail of the art.

Kenji had sat on the sofa and Ben flush against him, acting as the comfortable partner and lover.

But Ben couldn’t help but feel how comfortable Kenji was. How well he fit to his side. How warm this image of them with a dog and his sister relaxing in the living room was. He leaned his head back and Kenji looked away from the movie to nuzzle in his hair.

Ben wanted this to real if only to feel the comfort and trust in that single moment.

“Dinner’s ready.” Candy said as she came in, pausing to look at them and smile.

Bumpy yipped and stood, stretching before she followed Candy to her new bowl in the corner of the dining room on a soft rug.

Ben got up and Kenji followed, Carmen calling she wanted to finish the next few pages.

Kenji pulled out Ben’s chair and smiled when he sat down with a soft thank you.

Once Carmen was seated, Kenji sat between where Kosei would sit at the head and Ben.

Candy brought out a savory casserole with meat, cheese, tortillas and chili. She then placed down bowls of red rice, refried beans, chips, red and green salsa and cabbage.

“Enchilada casserole!” Carmen said excitedly, then looked at Ben from across the table. “It’s Kenji’s favorite!”

Kenji nodded and was happy to help Ben fill his plate.

Once he had a substantial amount of everything, Ben noticed they were watching him. He then saw that they were holding hands.

“Are you comfortable with grace, Ben?” Candy asked.

“I…yes ma’am.” He said and took Kenji’s and Carmen’s hands.

The family closed their eyes and he noticed only Candy and Kenji bowed their heads. He quickly closed his own eyes as Candy prayed outload.

“Dear provider and father above, thank you for reuniting our family this winter. Thank you for the safe journey of my son and our transition into our new home. Thank you for blessing us with Ben and Bumpy. And thank you for giving us so much more to be thankful for and love. And we say”

“Amen.” She and her family chorused.

Ben lowered his hands and smiled, blushing as he held back tears.

“Ben?!” Carmen asked and Ben quickly wiped his cheeks.

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s just been a while since I’ve prayed.”

“We don’t expect you to be obligated to, Honey.” Candy said and Kosei nodded.

“How you express or don’t express your faith is up to you. But thank you for joining our thanks.” Kosei said gently.

“Does your family have a faith?”

“I uh, I think we were Jewish.” He said.

“Think you were?” Kosei asked.

“Um, my mom was the religious one and um…my Uncle got work overseas so it’s uh…just been me.” He said.

“What?”

“I didn’t want to stress my uncle out and he knew I was with friends and I haven’t…I haven't even told him about Kenji to be honest. It’s been so long and I…”

“Oh, Sweetie.” Candy whispered. “and your mother—”

“Mom.” Kenji said and she covered her mouth in surprised.

Kosei sighed softly as Carmen looked from her parents to Ben, slowly putting the pieces together.

“Oh, Ben. I'm sorry…” She whispered.

“It’s okay. She’s with my dad and I know if I work hard, I can make them proud.” He said, sounding robotic at this point.

“Well, if it’s not too candid…You always have a place in this family. Even as a friend.” Kosei said and Ben smiled, wiping his cheeks again.

“I’m sorry. I made dinner awkward.”

Kenji put a hand on his and look him in the eye. “Never be sorry for expressing how you feel.”

Ben nodded as he looked down at his food. He took a bite…

And coughed hard, grabbing a napkin and holding it to his running nose and burning mouth.

“Oh my gosh!” Carmen said and gave Ben his water. “Kenji! Did you give him the green salsa?!”

“What? It’s not that hot?” Kenji said, grabbing his own napkin for Ben to switch out.

“Mijo, you’ve been eating jalapenos since you were in diapers! Mamita, get him some of the banana milk.” She said.

Carmen quickly got up and returned, twisting open a school cafeteria looking yellow bottle of milk and handing it to Ben, who sipped it slowly, panting softly as he finished it. He then whirled on his pretend boyfriend.

“You’re not human!” He said to Kenji, who was trying to hold back his laughter.

“Stop…stop laughing…” Carmen said, placing a hand over her mouth to hide her own smile.

“I reacted horribly the first time I had the green salsa too, Ben.” Kosei said. “I was sweating while pretending I wasn’t affected, then got sick later.”

“I told you not to put so much. You need to build up to that amount!” Candy said and Ben laughed imaging such a regal looking man sweating and red faced.

“Okay. Stay away from the green sauce.” Ben said. “I’ll remember for next time.”

He took a bite of the casserole and nearly melted.

“Wow…”

“One of the perks of my marriage.” Kosei joked, making Candy huff and roll her eyes with a smile.

“One of many, I hope.” She said.

Kosei took her hand. “Too many to count.”

“Ew. Mom. Dad.”

“Oh, they get to flirt, but us older folk don’t?” She asked her daughter, who giggled.

“So!” Carmen said, gaining everyone’s attention. “How did you two meet?”

“Online.”

“Friends.”

Ben and Kenji looked at each other and Kenji stuttered.

“W-well, we met through friends online…”

Ben put his hand over Kenji’s, smiling at him with steely eyes. Kenji’s mouth shut as Ben hunched his shoulders.

“Its kind of embarrassing really.” He started. “You see, he was video chatting with Sammy. And Sammy and I have been friends for so long…we were comfortable around each other. So one day, while Yaz was at a retreat, I had gotten out of the shower and was only in my boxer briefs because I forgot my clothes in my room.”

Carmen and Kosei looked scandalized as Candy covered her mouth.

Ben blushed as if it were true as he continued. “So, being so comfortable with Sammy, I was drying my hair as I walked nearly naked past her and Kenji unfortunately got an eyeful of my pale chicken legs. The scream I let out.”

Kenji chuckled just imagining the scene.

“And then I asked him for his number.” Kenji said with a shrug.

Candy laughed. “That sounds very like you, Kenji.”

“Texting Ben and calling him leveled me down. Made me want to come back just to…” He paused and shook his head, interlacing his fingers with Ben.

“He makes me happy.”

“So you two are still new to a lot of things.” Candy said. “Despite talking for three months.”

“Yeah.” Ben said and smiled at Kenji, almost genuinely. “He’s way taller than I expected.”

“But you’re just as cute.” Kenji said, making Ben blush deeply.

“Aw~!” Carmen cooed and Kosei scoffed at his daughter.

“Now, now.” He said, then turned to the boys. “Ben, I never asked. Do you prefer a separate room?”

“Excuse me?”

“Dad!”

“We understand how couples are and respect how you express your love.” Candy said. “As long as you’re safe. However, if you’ve only started being together…”

“Stop, stop this now.” Kenji said.

“I’ll be okay with Kenji.” Ben said with a nod. “He takes really great care of me and respects my wishes.”

Kosei nodded in approval of his son. “I am very happy to hear so.”

“Ben, I have to ask because it’s been bothering me…what’s that scar on your upper arm?” Candy asked.

Ben looked at the jagged scar on his left bicep. He covered it.

“It’s…from an old relationship.”

Carmen gasped and Kosei placed his glass down, eyes hard as he looked at Ben. Kenji squeezed his hand.

“What?”

“It was way before I met Kenji.” Ben said. “And I never brought it up because…”

“No, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” Candy whispered.

“It’s fine. He’s…” He took a deep breath. “He’s gone and I’m far, far away from him.”

Kenji pulled Ben’s hand to rest on his chest. “Ben…don’t be scared to tell me things. I won’t judge you, ever.”

Ben smiled and kissed Kenji’s cheek.

“Thank you. All of you.”

Ben sat on the king sized Ben in Kenji’s room.

It was decorated in shades of red and gray, as opposed to the white and blue outside. He was dressed in an old t-shirt and pajama pants, Kenji showering.

The room was very…sparse.

It had rich dark wood furniture, plush latte colored carpet and pale pastel yellow walls that could be white in different light. Rich strawberry red bedspread and rugs and grey curtains and armchairs next to a white brick fireplace with a glass guard. There was a desk, a small table next to the large window with the armchairs next to the fireplace and with another tall, small surfaced table. The bed was in the middle of the back wall, two nightstands holding touch lamps and piled with soft velvety red and grey pillows overstuffed, but comfortable enough to leave on when going to sleep.

Bumpy snored from her plush pet bed near the heating vent, exhausted from the busy day she had.

Ben felt himself already getting sleepy as he read one of the books Yaz had bought him as an early Christmas gift. He looked at his phone

He text Sammy.

B: I told them about J

S: WHAT?!?!?! Ben, you didn’t have to!

B: It felt right. I trust Kenji.

S: Okay. How do you feel?

B: A little better tbh Like Like I have some more eyes looking over my shoulders to watch my back Idk

S: Kenji would kick his ass into next year! I WOULD TOO!

B: Thanks, Sammy. We’re heading off to the hotel tomorrow. I’ll send you some pictures.

S: Be safe! Yaz said to say she misses you.

B: I miss you too. Love you both.

S: <3

Kenji came in dressed in flannel pajamas and looked at Ben, who was still curled up on the right side with his book.

“Um…”

“It’s okay. You’re probably cold.” Ben said, pretending to read his book as Kenji draped the damp towel over the back of his desk chair.

“Are you cold?” He asked.

Ben ducked his head a bit, not wanting to make a awkward situation more so.

Kenji reached into his bag and pulled out the soft knitted blue sweater he had worn to dinner. He held it out to Ben.

Ben blinked and suddenly, Kenji blushed.

“Sorry! I’ll get you a clean one or—”

“I’ll take it.” Ben said, taking it from his hands and pulling it over his shirt.

He blushed as he smelled Kenji’s cologne on the collar and wrists. Kenji got in bed next to him.

“What are you reading?” He asked Ben.

“A sequel series of this young adult…um…It’s a little complicated, but it focuses on my favorite characters from the first series.”

“Read a bit to me?”

“You wouldn’t understand it.” Ben said. “But if you want me too, I can explain plot details and stuff...”

“Okay.” Ben said and found where he had paused. “Magnus saw hundreds of masked people in elaborate costumes dancing in unison, and around them was music that could be seen as well as heard. As if ripped from a black-and-white sheet of paper and turned into bright, living shapes, the notes floated in the air, drifting along currents of musical lines and wrapping around the glittering masks and elaborate hair of the dancers. Along the ceiling, the constellations were moving; no, they were the orchestra…”

He noticed Kenji had relaxed and was dozing off, soft snores floating from him. Ben placed his bookmark inside the page and placed it on the nightstand. He touched the lamp, and the room went dark.

Kenji wiggled closer and hugged him loosely around the waist.

He smiled and pretended this was his life, with a loving boyfriend and his family and safe and loved—

“Sorry…Brooklynn…” Kenji groaned and Ben froze. He pulled away and rolled over, leaving Ben cold and feeling empty.

#jw fanfic #jw sweater weather #ben pincus #kenji kon #kenji x ben #kenji and ben #mentions of #red scrolls of magic #camp cretaceous fanfic #camp cretaceous sweater weather

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whichwitchami · 4 years ago

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Do you do anything special for the winter holidays? (Assuming you celebrate anything). Do you have any traditions you'd like to share? Or stories? Or a favorite winter recepie? I know most of those lean on the idea that you celebrate something and if you don't then by all means don't worry about it. Or share something wintery that isn't about a holiday. I dunno. I was thinking too much about too much and thought I'd offer an opportunity to just talk about whatever. Sorry ~🏵️

Hi friend!

I’ve been pondering this a lot this year since my boyfriend said he wanted to celebrate more of the Pagan holiday’s with me. A lot of times I just let them slip by because I don’t follow the Wiccan wheel of the year, and so I don’t much know what to do for each holiday. A lot of what I’’ve read for the Norse versions of the holiday’s involve bonfires and feasts, which are nice, but a bonfire in Ohio winter isn’t the most realistic thing.

I do technically celebrate “Christmas” or whatever secular, cultural thing “Christmas” is in America now. I was raised in a Christian household so 🤷

By that I mean there’s always a tree and decorations and we get each other presents and have a nice meal. My mom gave up on forcing my sibling and I to go to church well before either of us knew we were pagan. In non-covid times and before I moved away, we all went to visit family and do gifts and a nice meal there as well.

This year its about the same on the “Christmas” end, although not with my family because I’m now 3 states away and its COVID. My boyfriend and I got a fake tree to decorate (we call it the Yule tree cos of the idea that Christmas trees may have been stolen from a pagan tradition) and there’s gifts under the tree. He wants to try and make a beef wellington for Christmas dinner...though neither of us have taken on anything like that for cooking. We’ll go over to his parents for a meal and gift exchange as well. His mother was raised Catholic and while she’s not hardcore, she still upholds a lot of the Christian stuff.

For Yule celebrations this year, I plan on making wassail (a sort of tradition? My sibling and I have made it a few times, it stems from something I’ll talk about more later in this post) and we got a candle that’s supposed to smell like a Yule log. I told my boyfriend we can’t light it until Yule XD. I don’t know if we’ll do much more than that because I work on Yule this year (well, I work the 21st which I believe is Yule this year)

There are some non religious things my family and I did every winter while my sibling and I were in school. I haven’t figured out foolproof ways to incorporate them now that we’ve both graduated, but I try to do something to call back to those traditions each year.

While we were in school my sibling and I danced in the local dance theater’s production of the Nutcracker for YEARS. We even got my mom in on it one year as a party guest in the first act. None of us dance anymore since my sibling and I went off to college and especially in the year of COVID we’re not going to go to any shows. I’ll probably just play the music a bunch or try to find a movie of it that isn’t terrible.

The other one was attending my high schools madrigal play. We went almost every year for 8 years (my sibling and i are 4 years apart, so my 4 years of high school and their 4 years of high school) because my sibling and I both had friends who were in it each year. For anyone who doesn’t know what madrigal is, it’s a dinner and a show type of thing with singing in between courses, sometimes dancing, and sometimes a play within the show. The premise is you’re attending a feast at the house of a medieval King and Queen with all his lords and ladies. So the singers are dressed up in garb and sing traditional carols in between courses of a (semi) traditional meal. That’s where my sibling and I got the wassail from. We loved wassail the best at madrigal and so we learned how to make it ourselves.

I saw one idea on Facebook this year that I’d love to start, where you gift everyone in the house a book on Christmas eve and then spend the evening reading the book you were gifted. I think that’d be fun to turn into a tradition.

If/ when there’s kids in the picture, a friend of mine from high school had a tradition where the “elves” would drop off small gifts each day leading up to Christmas. Things like pajama’s, trinkets, etc. and the kids would have to do a mini scavenger hunt to find them, then on Christmas day they’d get the big presents. I think something like that could be fun as well.

Also, I want to teach my hypothetical kids the importance of giving back. There’s one youtuber I watch who is a phenomenal parent, and has taught his kids the importance of giving back via donations. Every year his child /wants/ to go through his toys and donate ones he doesn’t play with anymore to help kids in need and to make room for new toys he’ll get for Christmas. Like the kid seems genuinely happy to get rid of his old toys rather than selfishly hold onto them. I’d be so happy if I could instill the same sense of giving in my own children.

Honestly for me, whether its Yule or “Christmas” in so much as the cultural aspect of it that’s bled into every American home whether they want it or not, I just want to focus on simple, cozy, quiet things with my family over big fancy to-do’s. Like reading a book on Christmas even in a comfy pair of new pj’s with a mug of wassail with some candles burning. That sounds so much better than a big, stressful party with my whole family.

That was kind of a long, rambly post. If anyone who reads all the way through wants to chime in on their traditions, I’d love to hear them!

#yule #christmas #yule traditions #traditions #holiday celebrations #Anonymous

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nightashes · 5 years ago

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Virgil’s Self-Care Day

A/N: Inspired by @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes post. This fic is just utter silliness and fluff. No plot in sight.

Summary: "A fluffy fic where Virgil actually loves himself" Otherwise known as "Virgil has regular self-care days and the others join in."

Warnings: Food

Ao3 version - writing masterlist

The day begins with Virgil’s eyes snapping open. A smile spread across his face as he thinks of what day it is, the third Sunday of the month (otherwise known as Virgil’s self-care day.) He flings his covers off, springing from bed with a wide stretching grin. His alarm sounds a minute later and a song from Evanescence, his favorite band, begins blasting through his room. Virgil smirks at his phone.

“Sorry, bud, but your gonna have to be a little faster to beat me. I’m just too good for you.”

Was it weird to talk to his phone? Maybe. Did he care? Absolutely not.

Virgil takes a quick shower. His skin buzzing with excitement. Jumping out he speeds around his room throwing on his favorite ripped pants, combat boots, and for a change of pace he pulls out his Christmas sweater. The one that was made for him by Patton and Roman. Gosh, did he love those dorks.

Yes. Today was a great day. The thought came again and again. He just couldn’t get it out of his head. Nor did he want to. For today was his self-care day. A day just for him to spend doing what he loves best and hanging out with the people he cares for more than anything in this world. He studies his face in the mirror. A day like this deserves some extra special eye shadow. Maybe something even a little more.

Shifting through the makeup on the top of his dresser, the varying types of eyeshadow, mascara, highlighters, and lipsticks. For a day like this, a special day, would require some extra special care and attention. A foundation pale enough to make any vampire swoon. A purple lipstick dark enough for even his Gothic soul. And a smokey eye that was well... smoking. Yeah. Virgil was rocking it today.

Stepping back, he surveys his completed work. Brushing his hair to lay just in such a way as to cast shadows over his face, increasing his spooky vibes by ten. No one could deny (not even Roman) that being scary was just plain fun.

Speaking of the others, it was time for breakfast. Virgil bounds down the stairs, recipes he had searched for the night before buzzing in his head. This was going to be good. Logan was already in the kitchen making his morning cup of coffee. He looked up in shock at Virgil not only being awake this early, but also being so chipper about it. The thought disappeared as the pieces clicked together in his mind. And of course they would. Logan was just that smart.

“Self-care day, Virgil?”

“Self-care day.” Virgil smiles in response. “So pancakes? Or eggs and sausages? Maybe cinnamon rolls? Oh, I found a recipe for a quiche! What do you think?”

“As this day is for you and not I, I think it would be best to hold my opinions to myself and support your choice. Even if some of those choices are sorely lacking in nutritional value.”

“Quiche it is.” Virgil can’t help but appreciate Logan’s comment. The others always go the extra mile to make sure that he puts himself first on his self-care day. They truly do care about him.

Virgil begins pulling out all the ingredients from the fridge and cabinets, summoning whatever they don’t have. He mixes the wet ingredients (quiches sure do have a lot of eggs), folds in the veggies and extra goodies, and pours it all into the ready-made crust. Just in time for the oven to beep, letting him know that it was ready to go. Sliding the tray in with ease, Virgil leans back against the counter to appreciate this moment. Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth in a semi-meditative state.

Patton speaks up from behind him, “Oh, is it your self-care day already?”

Virgil turns to see Patton already beginning to clean up the mess he had made baking.

“Leave that for me, Pat. I can handle it.”

“Virgil, if you’re baking for us. It’s only fair that I clean up after you.”

“Thanks, Popstar. You’re pretty cool.”

“Am I ice cold?” Patton throws back.

“Colder than Antarctica.”

“Awww, that’s pretty cold there, Mister. So what’s cooking, or should I say baking?”

Virgil chuckles out. “A quiche.”

“Sounds wonderful. And what are your plans for today?”

“Oh, I have some ideas. But I think I’ll just let the wind carry me, you know.”

“Something smells great. Whatever is in the oven is fit for a king.” Roman calls as he shuffles down the stairs, still in his crown pajamas. “Oh, Virgil!” He calls seeing the two shuffling around the kitchen. “I am looving that lipstick, I was hoping your self-care day was soon. I have a wonderful idea for what you can do to tick off your ‘spending time outside’ box. That is if you are willing?”

“Depends on whatever the idea actually is, Princey.”

“Well, picture this. The imagination. Flower fields. I know not spooky enough. But instead of the usual, I take you to see the new Deadly and Poisonous Plants and Flowers Exhibit. Made by yours truly just for you, Mr. Dark and Cheery.”

“Dark and cheery? Geez.” Virgil smirks at the nickname. “Yeah. Sure. I guess it sounds kinda cool.”

“Excellent! Just knock on my door when you’re ready. Now please tell me whatever you are baking is almost done! I swear that smell is making my mouth water.”

“In just a moment.”

And so after a family breakfast, where everyone made sure to compliment the quiche. Virgil had to say, it really was a good recipe. The group separated. Roman and Patton went to get ready. Logan insisted on cleaning up the table, since Pat and Virgil had done everything else. And Virgil sprawled himself across the couch, earbuds in and music on.

Virgil often called this time his “be like a cat hour.” Where he would lazily stretch out, taking as much space as he needed, and just spend an hour listening to his favorite songs and scrolling through his favorite Tumblr tags. It was a moment of pure bliss. Just an hour, where he could just be with himself and enjoy the moment. But like all things, the hour had to come to an end. And so with a heavy heart, he stretched out one last time, refusing to abandon the calm atmosphere of the moment, and rolled himself off the couch. He landed on the floor with an umpf. Blinking up at the ceiling, his mind slowly coming back online and thought through all of the options for what he could do next. Roman’s offer naturally came to mind. And so not a moment later, Virgil shuffled off to knock on the prince’s star-studded door, star-studded in that it was literally covered in sparkling stars. Virgil even recognized a few from that weirdly echoey mind palace that Roman had created during the Growing Up video.

He knocked once, twice, and before his fist could land a third time. The door swung open to reveal, a panting Roman with windswept hair. His pajamas finally replaced with his prince attire. “Ready, for the best self-care day you will ever experience.”

“I mean a self-care day isn’t really supposed to be a competition-”

“Just, come in. I have so much to show you.” Roman swings the door open, sweeping his arms through the air. “The imagination awaits.”

And so together, Dark and Stormy with Bright and Rosy made their way into the imagination. Walking across rolling hills, past a bustling town and castle, and to a wide expanse of meadows stretching across the west territory.

“Gardening has become a bit of a hobby of mine. And I get to grow so many nice flowers to gift to you and the others. Did you notice Patton’s flower crown the other day? Forget-me-knots, lily-of-the-valleys, and some daisies. All grown right here. Of course, I knew that wouldn’t interest you. So I was determined to cultivate a field of the strange and mysterious. Right over here.” Roman’s voice is loud and booming. His chest puffed out with obvious pride as he leads the anxious side deeper and deeper into the gardens. Across the twisting and turning paths until they stop at the edge of something right out of an Addams family movie. A knotted and scarred tree takes center stage with ivy growing up the twisted bark. The ground around the specimen is filled with black roses, deadly nightshade, oleander, hemlock, and varying types of thorny bushes.The path through the garden is scorched ground, as if Roman had created it by directing lightning strikes.

“Roman, this is actually pretty cool. How’d did you do this?”

“C’mon Virge, you can create anything with a little creativity.”

Virgil snorts at the cheesy answer. “Right sure. Just show me around.”

“Well, right done here, you will see a dried out fountain. And over there is a small cemetery. Nothing is actually buried there, but I thought you’d appreciate the aesthetic. There’s even a murder of crows that hang out there now.”

“Ah yes, my people, we do love to hang out in cemeteries and caw at the moon.”

“Oh, so you caw at the moon?”

“Do you doubt me?”

“No. no. How could I doubt someone who has shown they love to hiss as a way of communication? In fact, there’s a mini moon that floats above this garden just for you. Why don’t you go and caw at it now.”

“You think you can embarrass me into not cawing at the moon. Oh, Princey, Princey, Princey... You have no idea what you just started. Brethren crows!” Virgil calls to the birds settled amongst the tombstones. “The moon awaits us, let us caw!” And then the dark and stormy side runs off into the cemetery, flapping his arms and literally cawing at the moon.

Roman looks on, his mouth dropped, as his feeble mind tries to process the true magnificence that is Virgil cawing while the crows are flying around his head joining in his song. Some even land on his outstretched arms as if he were the Crow King and they were his humble subjects.

Virgil finishes his call with a wave of his arms, as the entire murder takes flight. Their bodies covering the mini moon as they fly off into the “night” sky darkening the already overcast garden. And the anxious side turns to his companion, a devilish smirk on his features as he delights in Roman’s flabbergasted expression.

“What’s wrong, Princey? Is my pure Halloween spirit too much for you?”

The creative side’s face immediately switches to a look of pure mischievousness. “Oh, you asked for it now. I’m going to tell all the sides all about your Halloween spirit.” He announces as he runs back through the garden heading towards the door to the imagination.

Virgil smirk only grows into a full-fledged Cheshire grin. “The hunt is on.” And then he is gone, sprinting after the creative side, his lanky form racing through the gardens, jumping over any obstacles. Barreling after the man who dares to try and best him.

Needless to say, Logan and Patton were both entirely shocked when Roman came rushing into the commons. Breathless and with windswept hair, gasping for words, only to be tackled by a cackling Virgil with murder in his eyes. The two dissolving into giggles as Roman fights to speak. “Logan… Patton… Virgil and… and the crows… and…”

Virgil manages to pin Roman to the ground, fighting to keep his laughter at a manageable level. He growls at his friend. “You’ve been caught by the Crow King. Prepare to perish!” A black permanent marker appearing in his hand.

Roman pales at the sight. “Virgil, wait. no. I’m sorry.”

Patton gasps at the sight. “Please, Virgil. He’s too young. He’s just a boy.”

“That doesn’t excuse him of his crimes. I am only doing what is just.”

“My beautiful face!” Roman bemoans as the marker meets skin.

Virgil is cackling.

Patton is clutching his heart.

And Logan… Well, Logan is just rolling his eyes.

“There.” The anxious side stands, releasing Roman from his grasp. “The deed is done.”

“What did he do?” Roman asks, desperately feeling around his face. “What did he write? Quick, a mirror! Someone get me a mirror.”

Patton manifests a mirror, passing it over to the panicking prince. “It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

Roman grips tightly onto the fatherly side’s hand. “Thank you, Patton.” He slowly raises the mirror with his other. Bringing it ever closer to his face to read the words written in bold across his forehead and cheeks ‘The Crow King Was Here.’

“My face. My poor beautiful face.” Roman waxes to the unforgiving world.

Meanwhile Virgil merely chuckles evilly. “You can’t embarrass me, Roman. I always win. That’s why I’m the king and you’re the prince.”

“Are we done now?” Logan asks with a look as if he and he alone carries the weight of the world.

“I’ll get you for this, emo.”

“Come at me, bro.” Virgil fires back.

Roman launches himself at Virgil, tackling him onto the couch. Virgil hissing in protest as he fights against his oppressors grip.

“Patton, help me.” Virgil reaches out to the moral side.

Roman flops down on top of Virgil, entrapping him beneath him. “Virgilcallshimselfthecrowkingbecausehecawsatthemoon.” Roman speaks quickly, his words running together.

“Huh?” Patton cocks his head.

“Virgil apparently caws at the moon?” Logan translates with utter confusion.

“I do!” Virgil shouts, his voice muffled as his face his pressed into the couch cushions. He struggles against Roman, lifting his head in defiance. “And I’m proud of it. I am the Crow King! Fear Me!”

“Mission Accomplished.” Roman collapses against the anxious side. “I’ll think I’ll just take a nap now.”

“Noooooo.” Virgil protests from beneath him.

“Oh, you silly kiddos. Do you guys wants some lunch?”

“Yes, please.” They speak in unison.

“Right. Virgil after lunch I was hoping to ask you to join me and Patton in our knitting club again. It was quite…pleasant the last time. And I thought it would check off your ‘do something creative’ box.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” The dark and stormy side speaks from beneath Roman, resigned to his fate as a couch cushion.

Virgil’s self-care days didn’t always contain such chaos. But if Virgil was being truthful it was days like this, where they could all let loose without care or concern, that made him look forward to them with such excitement. And as he laid there, smushed underneath Roman and planning out his knitting project revenge, while Roman chatted on and on about how he should be the one to make dinner and then they could have a movie marathon after, Virgil decided that tickling his way out from under Roman just required too much energy. Instead, he allowed Roman’s flowery language to wash over him, surprisingly at peace with his predicament, as he patiently awaited for Logan and Patton to return with lunch.

awesome people to tag: @stop-it-anxiety @rainboots-are-for-snobs @hexatrash @ollyollyoxinfree

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #sander sides #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #my writing #virgil loves himself #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #food tw

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eevee-winters · 5 years ago

Text

The Gentleman

Victor x Reader

1900 words

After the events of LFG Christmas party, you awake up to find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings. What happened last night? Who’s bed is this? Where are MY clothes?

This is what happens after my story ��A Christmas Invitation so I suggest reading that before this if you have not all ready.

Warning: NSFW (barely), FOOD PORN, heavy petting

“uhhhhh” you groan while stretching out your body after a long peaceful sleep. You are cradled by the purest form of comfort. Eyes still closed, you run your palms across the silky feel of the most exquisite sheets you have ever caressed.

Opening your eyes, they flutter as they slowly adjust to the sun light gleaming through partly folded curtains of an unfamiliar room.

“Where am I?? you grab you head. “What happened last night” you grumble. Your head pounds as you sit up to take in your surroundings. You are in a large stark white bedroom, there is a large black marble fireplace searing across from the bed, no wonder the room was nice a toasty as opposed to the frozen tundra out the window. The bed was large with a beautiful dark obsidian headboard, the king sized mattress was wrapped in thin silver silk sheets, the epitome of luxury, they felt like something you could only imagine would be found on the beds of modern day kings and queens, and the mattress caressed and molded to your body as if sleeping on supple clouds.The room was immaculate, the color pallet was black, white & grey , and everything was prim & in its proper position. Although something on the night stand caught your eye. Hiding behind the lamp was a cute orange shiba ina doll.

Is this Victors house? Am I in Victors bed? Did we …….? your thought was spinning out of control. You sprang up, the sheets fall off your body and you realize that you are not in your costume from last night, you were in a cute tabby cat pajama top with no bottoms.

The last thing you could remember from that party was Victor showing you that view. Everything else was fuzzy. maybe I shouldn’t have had that third drink you thought looking around frantically for some pants.

*knock knock knock* You jump to attention with the sound at the bedroom door.

“_____ it is 10 a.m. don’t you think it is time to get up” said the coarse voice behind the door.

Still in a panic you open a different door in the room to find a large master bathroom, on the floor you find the bottoms to match the pajama shirt you are wearing. Desperately you put on the pants right as the door opens. In walks Victor, he was in black stripped pajamas, his hair was still a bit wet from being fresh out of the shower.

“If you don’t get up now your breakfast will get cold” he asserted. Victor was holding a tray, he sat it down on the side table, walked over to the covers and genitally pulled them back, but the girl was not there. He turned to look at the bathroom door to find a crimson faces girl peaking at him through the door way.

“Are you hiding in there?”

“I…… I’m not hiding”

“You have a dumb look on your face, it suits you well” Victor teased “ Come your breakfast is getting cold. Victor watched as the girl came out of the bathroom, climbed up into the bed and proceeded to hide under the covers.

“Victor is this your bed?” you muttered, terrified to look him in the eye.

“Idiot, who else’s bed could it be?” he rolled his eyes

“Did you….. I mean did we….. uh?” you mutter apprehensively

Victor stares at you with intense sorrowful eyes. “Are you saying you don’t remember, could it have been that forgettable? I know it was my first time but I thought I did a good job. I assumed it was your first time too, wasn’t it.”

You started to feel yourself lose consciousness. You have dreamed of what your first time with a man would be like. You wanted it to be special for there to be butterflies,teddy bears, ginkgo leaves, or roses SOMETHING. Not some drunken night with your boss after a office party. The look on Victors face was so somber, a proud man like him would be heart broken if you told him he was terrible in bed, even if it was his first time. HOLY SHIT IT WAS VICTOR FIRST TIME at this point you had to say something to make him feel better.

“Oh yeah of course I remember. You know my brain can be slow to start up in the morning, you’ve seen me in early meetings. It was really wonderful”, you lie as chill bumps emerge up and down your spine. I” think we both did great for our first time.” At this point your face is officially a tomato.

Victor’s face goes from melancholy to his iconic poker face. “Yes it was my first time, my first time bringing home an idiot that drank to much, passed out and puked all over her clothes. I told you to slow down, you know you can’t handle your liquor.”

You are still smiling awkwardly at Victor up until his words begin to register in your mind. RIP your soul leaves your body Your body recoils from him in embarrassment, pulling the covers over yourself determined to hide from him forever. “I thought we had sex but this is so much worst” word spills from your mouth before your brain has time to fully process them, “OMG” you pop from under the cover “not that sleeping with you would have been bad I just thought that is what hap…..” Victor places a finger over your mouth, then chuckled “Dummy, I know what you meant, it is alright I am just glad you are feeling better. You were pretty sick after the party now come eat so you can get your strength back.”

He places the tray in front of you, then uncovers the steaming hot breakfast. There is a white cheddar & spinach egg white scramble, turkey bacon as well as some avocado toast, strawberry jam with freshly squeezed orange juice.

It all smelled so wonderful, completely forgetting all of your recent transgressions you start to dig in. Just as you imagined it was spectacular. UwU

After breakfast Victor gives you some alone time so that you can wash up. In the bathroom there is even a new pink tooth brush for you to use. Once you are done cleaning yourself up on the bed a new light blue blouse and a pair to dark brown jeans are on the bed for you to wear. The clothes were your styles and a perfect fit. Is there anything Victor is not good at?

You walk down the stairs to see Victor sitting on a chase lounge reading his morning paper.

“Thank you so much for the clothes, how did you know my sizes?”

“I sized you up years ago” Victor responded without even looking up from his article.

“So what else do you remember from last night?” Victor’s outer appearance was his usual deadpan expression, but on the inside his mask was cracking. The girl had seem receptive before, but was it only because she was intoxicated. For the first time in a while Victor begun to second guess his decision to be upfront with his heart.

“The night is coming to me in pieces, I remember you leading me to the elevator, taking me to your office showing me that view, then you……” The Kiss Your face turns bright pink as the kiss with Victor last night crosses your mind.

“Anything else?” Victor encourages. His brow arches in reaction to the sudden change in color to your face.

“Uh no….. nope nothing…. nothing else.” Your voice goes up two octaves, and slight beads of sweat begin forming on your brow.

Victor places down his paper. His eyes gleam with a seductive look as he get up an slowly saunters close to you. Unlike his usual poker face, is expression was bewitching. The closer he move toward you the further back you stepped, taking one final step you tumbled over onto the steps.

Victor laughed “Are you afraid of me? I am not going to bite you dummy.” He kneels down in front of you “Now let me help you remember the events from last night.”

Victor leans over gently places his hand behind your neck, his deep gaze into your irises arose a warm tingly feeling in your stomach. Then in one smooth motion his soft lips caressed your mouth, the taste of mocha on his tongue converges with the sweet mint on your own. Pulling you in close, firmly pressing his chest against yours. Your heart was beating in your throat, the heat from Victors body was cause your body to sweat. The goose bumps from his touch were to much to handle, and you began to shiver.

“Victor please stop, we…… we can’t……”

Victor quickly pulled away. “I’m sorry, I guess it was the alcohol last night. I would never want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.” His facial expression became so somber, Victor thought that his worst fears had become a reality.

“Oh no what I mean is…..” avoiding direct contact with Victor eyes, you began fidgeting with the buttons on your sleeves “ I have never done anything like this before, I just don’t want to do it here on the stairs.”

Victor looked at the girl whom he had loved for so long, the innocents on her face was so pure. He stood up, bent down and cradled her in his arms, and began walking up the steps.

“Victor, haha what are you doing? Put me down I am not a baby.” you giggled nervously. He pushed the bedroom door open with his right foot, softly laid you down on the bed, removed his shirt, ran his finger through your hair & “You are my baby?” NOSEBLEED

Who is this guy? Could this be the same stern CEO that I have know all this time? He straddled you placing his left hand behind your head & his right was in laced in your fingers. His kisses became more wistful, his tongue playing in and out of your mouth. Your body was on fire, this was the first time a man had been on top of you this way, everything was foreign to you.

The hotter your body got you couldn’t help but want Victors hands to touch more of you. Feeling this weight on you your body began to just go with the flow. You wrapped your arms around him stroking the smooth firm muscles on his back. Your body start writhing around in anticipation of what he would do next.

Victor proceeded to kiss your face then, slowly moving down to your neck, when his tongue nipped the fleshly are near your collar bone you let out a shameful moan. Victor was a very attentive lover and quickly doubled down on that spot, licking, nibbling and sucking on your new discover “spot”. Instinctively your fingers clawed there way into his back leaving etches of pleasure in there wake. Your legs began to part as if inviting their new found admirer inside.

“Seem like a certain someone is getting excited, I like your enthusiasm, but I have been waiting along time to just kiss you like this. I am a gentleman I don’t need everything all at once. We can save the rest for another time.”

FIN

To Be Continued

#mlqc #mlqc smut #mlqc victor #mr love victor #love and producer #love and producer victor #mr love queen's choice #mr love queen's choice victor

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themissingmarvel · 6 years ago

Text

Forged in Fire (Quentin Beck x Reader) Part 1

(You read that right. This one takes liberties. It assumes Avengers are all still alive because it’s my fucking fic. Also, it still assumes Far From Home took place as it did. ALSO of note, it takes Beck’s history as a stunt man [comics] into account along with his work in tech. That said, it’s my first Beck fic and it’s been a hot minute since I watched FFH. Vague spoilers. And I can’t end it here so there’s gonna be more.)

Pairing: Quentin Beck (Mysterio) x powered!Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Language, mention of torture. )

(gif not mine)

Oh god… they’re really going to do it this time… I’m going to drown.

Your thoughts are erratic. Overwhelmed. Desperate. The water begins to pool around your ankles, your knees, your thighs. Dread fills your body as you pound feverishly against the unbreakable glass you’re confined in. The Box. That’s always what they call it. Once a week, always a different time. Always a different day. But it’s The Box that scares you most.

The water isn’t cold but it stings nonetheless as it rises to your chest, panic filling you and surging adrenaline through your body, not that it matters. The glass won’t budge, your fists almost breaking as you scream desperately to be let out. Two men stand, both in body armor, the room dark as they watch unflinching. They know the drill. So do you.

It reaches your neck and you tilt your head up, no longer able to hit the glass as it begins to lap at your mouth. You wonder if maybe dying would be the best. You’re only sixteen but you need this to be over. You never asked for this.

Hydra doesn’t care.

One last gasp of breath fills your lungs before the water overtakes you, leaving you floating in this glass container of pain. Suffering. Hate. Panic. Torture. They’ll break you, they think. They want to.

You feel your lungs begin to ache, your body panicking as it wants to breathe. Your lips open to scream but nothing comes out. This is it. They’ll kill me this time. I never said goodbye-

Suddenly your eyes flash open, practically tumbling out of your bed, sweat-soaked and sobbing, gasping for air that was not being withheld this time. Panic was still in your system, though. Adrenaline pumping through your veins.

That’s when you felt it.

The world around you, the room within Stark Tower, the large open space that felt oppressive in a way you could never explain to Tony but in a way that Bucky understood, dissipated. That giant bed. The white walls. The large windows. They became smaller. The world became smaller. You recognized the purple christmas lights hanging around the walls, the old band posters, magazines on the floor. This was your old bedroom.

Getting to your feet, the dim lighting reassuring as the room was also, you closed your eyes and took a breath, “Thank you…” a soft whisper left your lips.

You felt his warm arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against his chest, taught and firm, warm. Gentle. Reassuring. You felt him kissing the back of your head, his taller form then leaning down slightly to rest his face against yours as best he could, “I hate when you have those nightmares,” Quentin speaks gently into your ear.

You’re vulnerable here, but so is he. No armor, no facade, no dramatic speeches and yelling at the rest of the Avengers. No, this is Quentin.

Looking around the room you wonder briefly how he could possibly have gotten it so perfect. Of course, with Stark Tech at his fingertips and Tony cooperating with the man who loathed him more than anyone in the world, he could do it. He did do it. He did it for you. Tony had chided him for not working on the other more important holograms, but he didn’t care this time. He had found a reason to care about something else.

Placing your hands against his on your stomach you lean back comfortably against him, “They haven’t been as bad lately. I think… I think this helps me a lot,” you turn to face him. His hands remain around your waist, holding you close to him. He likes this. He likes this a lot. More than he should, really.

But he shakes his head, eyes narrowing briefly as he looks away, “I hate what they did to you. That they could do that to a child. Motherfuckers…” he mutters, aware of the complete hypocrisy of his statement. He’d almost killed Peter, after all, and wasn’t he the same age you’d been? It was different, he’d argue. You knew he would.

His sentiment makes you smile and you reach up, turning his bearded face back to you, “Hey. I’m here now, aren’t I? And that’s why you’re here. Helping us take down Hydra. You can take it out on them.”

Peter almost had about twelve panic attacks at once when he heard Quentin Beck would be assisting with the operation of taking down one of the largest Hydra bases yet. They needed a reliable manipulator, someone who could fool even the best tech in the world. As much as Tony hated to admit it, Beck was that man. Loki would help, but his was limited and it was magic. It couldn’t do what Beck’s did. It wasn’t as powerful.

And of course there were the dramatics at first. Tony threatened to kill Quentin should he even look at Peter Parker wrong. Wanda pried through his mind for any sign of deceit. He’d checked out. He’d agreed because he knew he’d get a clean slate. They’d let him go under supervision and under the condition he help when needed. That was prison enough for Quentin. But he’d get the fame. Mysterio would be a hero. Wasn’t that what he wanted.

The last thing he expected, however, was you. He’d heard your name, and he’d seen you use your powers, but he didn’t know you. He’d seen your face in passing. Blips on the screen. You weren’t like Thor or Iron Man or Hulk or hell… even Ant-Man. You were Y/N. Tony always said you were forged in fire. Maybe you were. That’s why water had been the most terrifying.

Quentin had found you curled in the fetal position in the hallway one night when he first arrived. Your breathing was shallow and rapid. You were hyperventilating. Sobbing. Crying. He had knelt by you and went to ask you what was wrong, to brush back your hair. You’d flinched, as if in pain, and he did the only thing he knew to do: he made an illusion.

The hallway had begun to vanish and you could swear that you smelled the grass. Soon you felt that same grass beneath you, even the texture was real. Confused, and temporarily pulled from your panic attack, you looked up to see a large willow tree encasing you safely. Quentin was next to you, wearing his black pajama bottoms and black t-shirt. Tony told you not to trust him.

“What did you do?” You asked him, defensive. Scared still.

He got it. He knew why. He couldn’t blame you, “It’s nice here, right?” He had turned and looked around, the wind swaying the dancing branches and leaves, the light speckled as it occasionally broke through, “You looked scared… I uh… I didn’t really know what else to do.”

You knew he had a choice. He could have left you there in the hallway. You’d have come to in a few minutes, feared sleep, avoided it, and you’d have read your latest novel. He could have even conjured something worse, just to fuck with you (although Rogers had warned him doing so would result in a shield to the head, helmet or not). Hell, he could not have come into the hallway at all.

But you were sweet. Tough. Kind. Powerful. Gentle. Forged in fire. Unbreakable. And you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid his perfect blue eyes on.

Well, fuck.

After that night, you’d both kept it quiet. Stark’s cameras had caught nothing, which was the point, but Quentin offered to stay with you. No strings attached. Promise I’ll keep my hands to myself. He grinned at you with that shit-eating grin. How could a man be like that? So damned infuriating. Good and evil.

It was a trial basis, you’d insisted. Quentin agreed, going so far as to even sleep on the floor. He’d managed to mess with Stark’s security cameras to sneak in and out of your room at night. Usually he could catch a nightmare before it was in full swing. You always did the same thing, whimpering, begging, pulling sharply at your sheets. He’d wake you with different scenes, until he’d been able to recreate your room from when you were thirteen, from just before your powers erupted. Three years before Hydra.

The nightmares had begun to slow and you’d begrudgingly told him to just get in your bed one night, “I’m tired of you sleeping on the floor, Quentin. It’s a California King anyway, could fit the entire Avengers in here,” you’d muttered.

He was taken aback. He’d seen you shove Thor, punch Barnes’ arm for being an ass, get into a pissing match with Tony, and almost uppercut Steve for stealing your sandwich. Accident or not, that was your damn sandwich.

And you were inviting him into your bed.

It had started with Quentin as far away as possible. That’s how these things always start, don’t they? And soon he’d gotten closer, rolled over and not corrected his positioning. He’d told himself it was to keep a closer eye on you. Keep you safe. But when he’d woken up early one morning to your head on his chest, arm draped over him, he knew that this was it. Peter Parker taking down half his drone army and almost killing him hadn’t defeated him. Stark managing to find him and jail him in a max security unit hadn’t broken him. But you? Your form against his, using him for comfort and security, had just about shattered him. Undone by a single person.

Cut back to the present. You see him thinking and you know he’s a man on a mission. He wants Hydra gone. For what they did to you. For what you felt to this day. He’d break every single individual’s mind if he had to. A hundred soldiers? A thousand? He didn’t care. They’d all pay. Every last one of them.

You lifted a hand and brushed back some loose hair, almost snapping him back to reality, “Hey… you with me?”

His eyes flickered, those startling blue ones the color of the waters in Bermuda. The color of tranquility. The color of a man not to be trusted and of a man capable of complete deceit. He was weak with you, though. Leaning down he rested his forehead against yours, “I’m always with you, sweetness,” his voice was low and soothing, just the way you liked. Always the thing to make you melt. But he knew that.

You did love when he called you honey, but especially sweetness. He was referring, of course, to that Jimmy Eat World song you’d always put on when you wanted to belt out some tunes of a time before Hydra. Back when you were in high school and being that emo kid. The Sweetness. He’d watched you mouth the words when you were doing idle tasks. You knew them by heart.

It had been a month since you and Quentin had been an item. But none of them knew. Natasha had her suspicions that something was going on but she had better things to do then babysit Beck. He was in Stark Tower. There was more security than god. And of course Peter was staying at home. May had made it clear that if Quentin came within a mile of her home when her nephew was present she’d beat him to death with his own drone. Lots of death threats. Couldn’t blame them.

Lifting a hand he pressed it warmly against your cheek, smiling softly. This was the Quentin no one else saw. This was the Y/N no one else saw. Costumes off. Powers gone. The two of you in a moment that was yours.

He closed his eyes and leaned in, pressing his lips warmly against your own. You closed your eyes and wrapped both your arms around his neck as you returned the kiss, delicious and warm. Comforting. You could taste him as he parted your lips with his tongue, searching out your own as he felt the need for you growing inside of him. The two of you hadn’t… done it yet. The deed. Slept together. Fucked. He had wanted to but he had wanted you to feel safe. Any other woman and he imagined he’d have charmed them into bed. You weren’t any other woman.

The nightmare had left your mind as you pressed yourself against the man who had been protecting you in secret. The man you had fallen for despite all warnings and insistence to leave it be. Now you were in his arms, feeling his hand that had been on your face moving to your hair, raking through it as he kept you firmly in his arms and in the kiss. His other hand was on your hip, gripping it firmly. He wanted you. God, did he want you. Whatever you’d give him, he wanted it.

You felt a soft moan escape your body, muffled in the kiss, but enough to cause a deep growl from Quentin, feeling his blood beginning to get hot. His grip got tighter, that piece of him so passionate and needy flowing through him as he held you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

“What the FUCK is this?” A voice boomed, echoing in the room that was both yours and not. Quentin dropped his hold on you, startled, and recognizing the voice, stepping back sharply as he ended the simulation, revealing the sterile room once more. And, of course, Tony Stark standing in his black pants and Led Zeppelin shirt looking like he was ready to murder someone.

He kind of was.

You jumped slightly, “Christ on a cracker! Tony, do you knock?!” You looked at him furiously, knowing what was coming next.

“I was a little preoccupied in losing my shit over Quentin not being in the secured room. I came to let him know we had the hologram blueprints set up. Though clearly the two of you are busy. Should I come back later when you’re done being a goddamn moron, Y/N?” He was fuming, fists clenched.

Unbelievable.

You glared at Tony, “You had no right bursting in here! And you’ve got absolutely no right in judging this!” Your own fists were clenched, your blood boiling. Your skin hot. Scalding.

Beck snarled as he stepped in front of you, jaw clenched, “Getting ready to take more things from me, Tony? What, you weren’t satisfied with stealing my life’s work, you’re gonna take the one thing I’ve got left that makes me happy?” He was walking now, with purpose, towards the man he had always despised.

Tony scoffed, “That’s rich. That’s fucking rich, Beck. You wouldn’t have been able to create anything if it hadn’t been for me, for what I gave you. And I can take it all back if that’s what you want. Throw you back in a cell for you to rot in.”

Quentin grinned. It was that grin he gave when he knew he had the upper hand. That grin that meant he thought he was the smartest man in the room, “Really, Tony? You think you can? You think you can take down that Hydra base without my expertise? Without me? You need me, and it kills you. Oh, I love this. I really do. You have no idea how much this thrills me,” he had gotten right up to Tony, leaving you behind by the bed.

It was strange to see Quentin in his true form. You’d watched him quip with Tony in the few times they’d be alone together, watched him glare and sulk, brood and narrow his eyes. Hell, you’d even heard him call Natasha “sweetheart” and subsequently watched Clint take the gun from her hand. You hadn’t seen the rage that he truly held for Tony. He’d gone after Peter, thinking Tony was gone, but now that he had the chance to best Tony at something? Hell, he’d take it.

He wasn’t done, though. Quentin kept that grin on his face, body suddenly relaxed as he tilted his head up ever so slightly, “You just want what you can’t have. Control. You’re pissed that you can’t control her, aren’t you? I bet you think she’s just another one of your fucking weapons, don’t you?”

Oof. That one stung. It stung you and Tony. He had taken to you hard, much as he had with Peter, but you were so broken. He understood that. He thought he could piece you back together. Who was Beck to try?

Regardless, now you were furious, walking towards where both men were and sharply pushing them apart, both able to feel the pain of the heat from your skin. Both winced. Both shut the fuck up immediately.

“I want both of you gone, now! Quen, go help Tony with what you were supposed to be doing to begin with. Tony, don’t ever come in to my room and accuse me of poor life choices, I’m not the one who was selling missiles to terrorists. You wanna pass judgment? Fuck off. Both of you.” You scowled at them, watching as both barely hesitated as they walked out.

Quentin paused once he was out, turning back with a look on his face you didn’t quite recognize, however, “We’re not done with this. Not by a long shot.”

You narrowed your eyes, confused by your sudden anger at this man who had used you as a pawn in a fight with Tony, used you to hurt him, “Oh, you’re right about that, Quentin.” You shut the door on him, calmly, cooly, and without effort.

As Quentin walked barefoot down the hallway, however, he knew he wasn’t mad at you. No. He knew that. His words hadn’t been a threat to you. He’d never threaten you. His words were a threat to Tony. To Peter. To Cap. To Bucky. To these people who he thought were holding you back from your real potential. Who were letting you stay broken. Using your anger and fear for their own perverse need for control.

He blamed Tony, as he always did. And as he walked, boring a hole into the back of Tony’s skull, he knew he could have both revenge, and you. Revenge on Tony, on Hydra, on all those damn goodie-goodie Avengers, and still keep you with him.

Quentin Beck was not letting you go.

(Tagging: @ellen-reincarnated1967, @with-the-words-all-wrong, @writingthingsisdifficult, @spookydefendordreamer @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @vigilanteavengerqueen and ask to be added!)

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blackivory-27 · 5 years ago

Text

A Terrible, Not Really Bad, Very Good Day

Words: 2388

Pairing: HyuRoy

Rating: I'm guessing slightly NSFW for two or three mentions of sexy stuff

Genre: Fluff, absolute Fluff, just Fluff

I’m so so sorry for being borderline late but @vino-and-doggos, I am your @fmasecretsanta2019 Santa!

You asked for some Roy/Maes AU trope-y things, and even if I’d never written any HyuRoy before I hope it turned out well, and I had a lot of fun too!

I tried to make them both in character and adorable as you wanted them - but be warned, it’s super-fluffy, so prepare some toothpaste!

Merry (very late) Christmas, and a Happy New Year!

It had been a long, long day at work for Roy. Not that other days weren’t long, or boring, but when half of your team is home, in bed, sick because of an outbreak of flu and you’re the only lucky one not to catch it you end up working with people you’ve never met before, or people you’ve met that you know are incompetent fools… and make your job much, much harder.

It should have been easy - go to work, finish his paperwork in time for the presentation in the weekends, wrap everything up with a nice little bow for the higher-ups and then dash out of the office at the speed of sound to go home and spend the rest of the day in bed (their only bed, finally): instead, documents had been lost, patience had run thin, stupid questions had been asked, and he was sure some of his brain matter had mixed itself with his sweat, he was depleted.

He kept thinking of his nice little flat, with his nice big fireplace and his big sofa, the smell of coffee in the room as he made his spoon clatter on his mug while stirring, something that Roy pretended to be annoyed by, but made him feel at home. He missed it dearly, so much, and he really would have wanted to leave everyone behind at the office and just dash for the door without even saying goodbye - but Riza’s ever-present look loomed in the back of his mind, and Fuery’s desperate, pleading eyes were too much even for him, so he’d stayed to help until late, when they’d finally managed to do everything.

When he left the building he cursed himself for not taking the car (“Be respectful of the environment, you work five minutes from the underground!” he’d say, and if he asked him something, he couldn’t say no), and then he cursed himself again for forgetting his umbrella. He hated the rain, it messed his hair and his coat up, it dampened his clothes, and humidity stuck to his face - and it was that annoying kind of light, thick rain that was just enough to need an umbrella, but not enough to be full rain. He was in a terrible mood, and everything seemed to add on it.

Even the underground was against him - late, slow, and full to the brim with wet, talking, existing people that just happened to exist too very close to him. He couldn’t wait to be home and forget everything about that horrible day, maybe ordering take-out for both of them while watching something on TV as they cuddled… it sounded like a simple, nice plan, enough to ease away the stress of his horrible day.

As he got off his train and onto the platform he was almost ran over by people trying to get on, and cursed out loud - screw manners, everyone was trying to piss him off on that specific day, so he was going to piss everyone off in return. He sped through the bystanders and columns of the place until he got to the exit, only to use his work briefcase to shield himself from the now heavier rain - how it could have changed so quickly, he didn’t know, but it was pouring like crazy and he still had a few minutes of walking to do before reaching his flat.

As he ran under the rain and almost slipped, his face lit up at the sight of his building:its newly-painted gate, the nice, tidy balconies with their plants soaking the water the sky was giving to them, the cute little windows and the pinkish, hideous curtains their sweet and old neighbour had put when she’d arrived, their blue, shiny mailbox along all the other ones on the wall, the roofed porch with its red tiles washing away the rain to shield anyone who had to get inside… it was better than Heaven for him, and when he finally got under it, he let out a sigh of relief and smiled deeply - finally, he would have been home to him, or so he thought, for as he reached for his keys, he couldn’t find them.

-Please no…-

He tried to find them once, Then twice. Then one more time, and then finally, he called his office to ask cleaning staff about it - sure enough, they’d found his keys in the office, and had left them at security. Just when he’d finally thought he was home the world had decided to play one more trick on him and leave him out in the cold under the rain. Giving up, he sat under the roof and moped, despaired, and rubbed his temples as the world around him turned cold and dark.

Or so he did for around five minutes, before someone opened the gate behind him, and it was him.

-Maes, my love, my saviour, clad in shining armour just for me.-

-Come on, I’m wearing duckie pajamas, I only came down because I was tired to watch you mope from the window.-

-You watched me mope for a grand total of five long, never-ending minutes? How cruel.-

-I swear, sometimes you’re really a handful.-

-But you love me.-

-Drama king.-

The two men chuckled quietly before Roy finally got up and joined his lover under their umbrella, kissing him gently and closing his eyes to enjoy his scent, his skin, his slightly rough, prickly cheek, his arm around his wet waist: without letting him go, Maes started to wobble his way back to their house while laughing and almost tripping on the cobblestone thanks to his man’s attempts at getting his attention, none of them successful, and his later attempts to murder him and make it look like an accident.

Roy kept complaining about how horrible it had been to stand under the roofed gate until they got to their door, and then inside he complained about his job - but Maes didn’t care, he loved to watch him talk and move around their house no matter what he did, and even more to know he was finally getting rid of all the stress of his very unfateful day. He watched as he took off his wet clothes and office uniform with a slight eyebrow wiggle - that Roy noted and replied to with the same wiggle and a laugh before making his way to their bedroom, with their new double bed, and where the old two, single mattresses were laying in a corner, an old memory from the (recent) times they had spent huddling up on a single bed to spend the nights together. Now they had one fit for a couple, one fit for lovers, and for cuddles… and more.

Still, as he was changing into his pajama, he smelled something divine coming from the kitchen, and nothing akin to take out.

Drawers were clanking, cutlery was ringing, and he was sure at some point he’d heard Maes curse at something indefinite as he put down plates on the living room’s table: he was planning something, of that he was sure, but as curious as he was he didn’t want to spoil the surprise yet, and he took his time to dry his hair and style it again, fixing it in the mirror until he deemed it flawless again - he knew how much Maes loved his hair, though, and how short it would have lasted so combed.

At some point, though, he heard a bottle popping - that is, a bottle of wine - and his curiosity and hunger got the best of him. He wanted to know what was going on, what was the smell, and what warranted Maes opening one of their bottles of wine.

When he got to the living room he was more surprised than he thought: the sofa-bed had been opened and blankets were strewn about, pillows were laying on it tidly, and the fireplace was dimly lighting the whole room… it was a romantic dinner, topped with a delightful cuddling nest.

-Mmmh, I wonder, my love, what is this?-

-It’s a surprise for my over-worked, tired, needing-to-be-spoiled boyfriend, of course. I made your favourite dinner - vodka and salmon pasta, how does it sound?-

-It sounds good, but it smells even better… how long have you been planning this?-

Maes chuckled and got closer to him, putting his hand through Roy’s hair and gently running his hand on his neck, his shoulder, and then his cheek to pull him closer and kiss him deeply: he felt his lover relax under his touch and moved to his neck without stopping, his hand now running on his back as he pulled him closer in his embrace - he unbuttoned his pajama shirt to kiss his shoulder and collar-bones, too, but stopped to rub his nose on his and laugh again.

-I haven’t planned this that much, actually, I woke up this morning and decided I wanted to spoil you on my free day… guess I was right to do so, you seem tired.-

-I was feeling much better already, you could have continued, you know.-

-And ruin dinner by eating dessert first? Don’t worry, I’ll eat you out later.-

Roy burst out laughing at that, a genuine laugh that warmed Maes’ heart and pushed him to kiss him again: still, he did have a plan for that night and it involved eating before everything else, and eating actual food. So, he took Roy’s hand and courteously led him to the sofa-bed, where he bowed to him as he laid on the comfortable blankets (and earning himself a shove) and covered him in them, fixing his pillows and kissing him again before opening their bed tray. Roy felt like a king, like he should have been, and when Maes brought him their pasta he felt elated. Good food, warmth, a fireplace and his man right there with him, hugging him and holding him, kissing him and cuddling him… he felt the horrible day he’d passed wash away like nothing.

They didn’t watch TV, but Maes put on his favourite jazz music on it as he listened to his unfortunate tale: his head resting on his shoulder, he filled his belly and his heart as he felt his hair become uncombed and messy, but he didn’t care much about that as long as he could lose himself into his sweet embrace and his heartbeat in his ear. Soon, their plates were empty and they’d forfeited the bed tray toust lay down in each other’s arms for a while.

-So, a very bad day, uh?-

-Mmmh, it was… but not now, my love, thanks to you. You really like to make my life better, don’t you.-

Roy smiled at him, but he was charmed in return by his deep, loving eyes staring at him as he did: Maes was so handsome, so caring, so warm, even the worst day seemed perfect just because he was there, even the worst moment was a gift if he could come home to that.

-I try my hardest, my handsome dear, to put a smile on your perfect face.-

-What a flatterer you are, mister - as flattering as you’re charming.-

-Oh, now you’re making me blush.-

Chuckling, they kissed and spent some moments in silence, just breathing close to one another, feeling each other’s presence by the fireplace, but then Maes broke the embrace and got up - leaving Roy behind alone, desperate and abandoned (or so Roy felt).

-No, why are you leaving, how can your heart be so cold and your soul so stern, right when I needed you the most?-

-Yeah, yeah, stay there you big baby, I have a surprise for you.-

-A surprise? Bribing me to cease my rightful speech against injustice, what a lowly tactic.-

Maes snorted audibly, and Roy couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping his lips - how he loved to be dramatic, just to annoy him a little, and how he loved the way he never stopped nodding along to all of it. He was about to start again when his nose caught a whiff of the most delightful smell in the world, and of his favourite thing ever… chocolate.

-If that’s a chocolate cake I’ll let you take me, right here, right now.-

-And what about the rightful speech?-

-I’ll continue it afterwards, now give me that cake - please and thank you.-

His mouth full of cake and his back resting on his lover’s chest, Roy was finally, finally happy. He didn’t remember his day at work, he didn’t remember his shouting and the paperwork and the fixing every mistake - he didn’t remember any of that, he didn’t feel that stress anymore, he only felt how good Maes’ arms were around his waist as he pulled him closer to kiss his shoulders and his neck as he ate his cake. He let out a loud hum, sighing through his nose and holding out his fork to Maes’ mouth to offer him a piece the man quickly took before kissing him… he tasted like love and chocolate.

-God, Maes, I love you so much. Thank you, for everything you do for me.-

-Thank you, my dear, for being here with me everyday. I love you too.-

-Ah, we’re already behaving like old men in love.-

-Aren’t we?-

-How - DARE-

Roy slapped Maes’ arm, offended, but the man just burst out laughing and then assaulted his neck to tickle it - he dropped the plate and fork and pushed him away, but it was no use, he didn’t have a chance against his tickling fingers and relentlessness, he was hopeless.

They tickle-fought for a while (Roy almost won, or so he liked to believe) before finally stopping to catch their breaths between giggles, looking at each other in the eyes - but then Roy pulled Maes closer and kissed his nose lightly, caressing his cheeks with his hands cupped around his face. He loved him, he loved him so much.

-One day, I’ll marry you, Maes Hughes.-

His lover kissed him back, moving his black hair, preciously combed hair away from his face before smiling dearly and winking.

-I can’t wait for you to, Roy Mustang, I just really can’t wait.-

The plate forgotten, the fork abandoned, all that remained was the light of the fireplace.

#fmasecretsanta2019 #fma secret santa #HyuRoy #Roy Mustang #Maes Hughes

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szopenhauer · 5 years ago

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What time do you plan on waking up tomorrow morning? I doubt that I’ll fall asleep tonight but if it happens then I want to sleep in

Have you ever been in an ambulance? twice Do you enjoy receiving souvenirs? I prefer to buy them myself but I don’t like to travel lol Do a lot of people dislike you or is it the other way around? I hate them and they hate me back Do you try to stay busy a lot? define busy Do you lie a lot? nah, I exaggerate tho Do you still act childish most of the time? yup Did you ever enjoy gym class? yep What is your biggest insecurity? look? my skin What was the last thing you plugged into an outlet? my cellphone Do people consider you to be a funny person? yeah Do you have any bad habits? sure Do you like children? nooo If not, why is this? many reasons Do you own any gaming systems? I only play PC/ online/android apps How old were your parents when they had you? in their 30s Is there a big age difference between you and the person you date? there's barely any difference Does the future excite you or scare you? scares me Do you try to spend a lot of time with family? yes What do you plan on doing with the rest of your life? we’ll see What is your favorite movie from the nineties? hard choice Which decade were you born in? 90s XD Are you good at giving advice to people? I am but they don’t listen Have you ever been in a long-term relationship? wouldn’t say so Is there anyone out there who makes you feel completely useless? me, I make myself feel useless because I am useless Do you like texting or calling people more? texting Do you have a lot of friends? I have no friends Have you ever painted something and been impressed by it? meh Would you rather go out to eat or stay in? stay in Do you think you attract the opposite sex at a reasonable rate? I don’t attract them Where is your favorite place to travel? nowhere What is your goal for the next few months? working on my health issues mostly Do you own a lot of shoes? just a few pairs Would you rather wear jeans or sweatpants? sweatpants Do you think you have a good sense of style? I have my own sense of style but I head I’m good with accessorising Do you enjoy reading often? occassionally only Have you ever had a deadly illness? sigh... Where did you last eat dinner at? finally home

have you ever been invited to a tacky-christmas-sweater party? I like tacky sweaters but I dislike parties what is the biggest turn off to you? penis

when was the last time you had a nightmare? recently where do you see yourself in ten years? dead if you had the chance to re-do the past six months…would you do it? maybe does your family have traditions? some sort of have you ever had a horrible school picture? I’m ugly whose voice will never fail to get on your nerves? hmm... do you sleep on your stomach, side or back? definitely not my back would you ever take up a job in photography? don’t think so

Do you find it hard to believe that a dinosaur was once right where u are? kinda

What is your favourite part of the movie “The Lion King”? Timon and Pumba moments

Do you knock before entering someone��s room? of course

Would you freak out if you saw a spider crawling on you right now? one was crawling on me today twice and I didn’t freak out

Have you ever used a tanning bed? hell no Do you think people will eventually stop believing in God? :o

Have you ever been go-cart racing? I have not

How many jobs have you had in your life? it’s complicated but I’d say zero

Does your shower have a door or curtains? we have bath

Are you good at remembering names? am really bad at it

Have you ever walked the opposite direction on an escalator? noooo

When making pancakes, do you try to make cool shapes/pictures? I don’t cool

Opinions on Channing Tatum? blergh

Do you use your hand when you’re explaining something? it’s possible

Do you still live in your home town? I do indeed

Where do you apply cologne or perfume? -

What about your look makes it your signature ‘you’ look? childish stuff, leggings, funny quotes on T-shirts...

Do you have an innie or outie? innie

Do you type quickly or slowly? very fast

Have you ever been addicted to a game? for a short time period

How long do you spend getting ready every day? minutes

How many cavities do you have? lots

Do you take surveys hoping someone will see your answers or just ‘because’? just because

What diet could you never do? vegan

What kind of toothpaste do you like? none

What would you never do, for all the money in the world? sell my soul

Is the grass greener on the other side? it’s probably fake

who picks the music when you’re riding in the car? driver

do you know anyone who regularly uses a bike for transportation? my uncle

do you consider audio books not really reading? it’s listening

strangest thing you’ve ever put in the trunk of a car? wtf

do you carry matches or a lighter? I own a lighter but I don’t carry either around

do you keep socks with a hole in them if they are your favorites? ^^”

last time you wore clothes that were too small on you. I wear oversized

have you ever had something taken away from you by airport security? luckily not

something you were surprised to learn about your parent’s childhood? personal

do you store any non food items in the fridge? cosmetics (my mom does, not me)

have you ever told a friend you thought their parent was hot? not applicable

have you ever destroyed another person’s belongings out of anger? don’t do that!

plain band aids or fun ones? plain

which pain killer do you use? time

have you ever borrowed underwear from a friend? disgusting, cringe

last pair of shoes you threw out? my red martens?

have you ever thrown anything up to hang on the power/phone lines? I’m not stupid

do you pay attention to people’s posture? rarely

could you happily survive in a world without music? if I was born in it then 100% but if it stopped existing now then I’d be sad, still survive has anyone ever revealed one of your secrets to another person? more than once if you’ve stayed overnight in a hospital, how did you entertain yourself? this question today...

what do you often assume about other people? that they’re evil, more or less

do you recall the first time that you learned the truth about sex? middle school? how do you hold/position your pillow while you sleep? dunno how to explain that what kind of environment do you need to be able to sleep? not fresh pajama/sheets, smth under my chest/lungs lately, arm under a small pillow, light until I feel sleepy enough to turn it off, not wanting to eat or pee anymore as it bothers me, preferably no noise and strong smells too, alone, pajama, socks when it’s cold... have you ever rubbed anyone’s feet? ewww, feet are gross have you ever farted, but tried to pass it off as someone else? as smth else*

why do you use foul language, if you do? it helps like punching something

is there a type of candy that you do not like? most of candies is there anything about which you are consistently paranoid? sadly rank your life based on percentage spent happy, and percentage spent sad: 99% unhappy?...

Would you rather date someone opposite from you or the same as you? similar

Do you own any band merch? I wish

Do you like Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit? LOTR but not Hobbit

Do you usually regret things you did or things you didn’t do more? things I did

Do you prefer shopping with friends or by yourself? depends

If you had a parrot, what would be the first word you would teach it? hello/hi

What food did you eat the most lately? white bread

What do you want your wedding song to be? our song

True/False : If it’s meant to be, it will be. hopefully true

what’s something you want but will probably never get? health

Do you get embarrassed when your stomach growls in class? that is sooo awkward

Do you think tattoos are hot? I don’t mind some

When did you last play Monopoly? this year?

Do you love food more than you love people? I don’t like food nor ppl

True or False: you this read wrong I read this right, you written it wrong

Do you think underwater pictures look cool? creepy

What is the most ridiculous law you ever heard about? there was this guy who broke some ridiculous laws in England

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sml8180 · 5 years ago

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Ego Christmas - Day 21 - Peppermint

Peppermint

Wilford hummed to himself as he worked in the kitchen. It had been snowing most of the day, and as night fell, it was likely that it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. So, in order to lift spirits around the manor and bring all the Egos together, he decided to make his recipe for Peppermint Hot Chocolate.

He knew that Dark, the twins, King, and Dr. Iplier were in the living area, but he wasn’t sure about where the “newest” Ego was. He had been the Author at one point, but after an incident, Dr. Iplier had brought the man to the manor and claimed that he no longer wanted to be called that; the man had eventually told them to call him The Host, and they were all slowly getting used to the change, though they were still wary of the man. Because he wasn’t sure if Host would be joining them, Wil decided to play it safe and make enough for all seven of them.

Wil was just finishing pouring the hot chocolate into the mugs he had pulled out, smiling at the smell that filled the kitchen when he heard a set of hesitant footsteps entering the kitchen. He turned to find Host standing there, wearing a set of grey slippers, blue pajama pants, and a white T-shirt that was far too big on him, picking at the bandages over his eyes with his head bowed a bit.

“Something smells good out here…” Host mumbled, staying by the doorway that lead to the hall.

“Host! You’re just in time,” Wilford greeted, smiling. “I made peppermint hot chocolate for everyone, why don’t you come join us?” As he spoke, Wil took a handful of peppermint sticks out of a box, putting one into each of the mugs of hot chocolate.

“That sounds nice… The Host, er, I would like that, very much,” the blind man replied.

“Come grab a mug, then,” Wilford invited, setting one of the mugs on the kitchen island, letting the bottom click against the surface. Once he saw that the Host was holding the warm mug in his hands, Wil turned to the counter and set the other mugs on a tray, picking it up and starting to head to the living area with the Host following behind him.

Wil entered the living area and handed out the mugs of hot chocolate to each of the Egos there, before settling beside Dark, smiling when the demon leaned against his shoulder, warming his hands on his mug. Meanwhile, Host had stopped at the doorway, unsure of whether or not he wanted to enter the space. Despite the relative success of the story he had told the twins and King a few days ago, he still wasn’t completely comfortable around the other Egos.

“Host!” Dr. Iplier called out, spotting the other Ego standing just outside the room. “Come sit down, we were just about to put on a movie,” he urged, hoping to lure the other man into spending a bit of time around himself and the others.

With a moment of hesitation, Host slowly entered the room, finding his way towards Dr. Iplier, following the man’s voice as he went, and sitting down beside him on one of the couches. He couldn’t help but smile as the scent of peppermint filled the air, and the sound of some holiday movie starting on the TV. As he took a sip of his hot chocolate, he let out a quiet sigh; he hadn’t had anything with peppermint in quite some time. As he listened to the other Egos occasionally crack a joke at the expense of the movie they were watching, and otherwise chat with one another, he decided that maybe being around them wasn’t so bad, especially if peppermint was involved.

#egochristmas2019 #Wilford Warfstache #The Host #Dr. Iplier #long post

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nerdy-bookworm-1998 · 6 years ago

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Masterlist

Last updated 23/03/19

Marvel

Gretchen's 200 Follower Writing Challenge Masterlist

Takeout Night - Reader introduces the boys to a new cuisine

A Gift-Wrapped Christmas -(Bucky Barnes x reader) Reader helps Bucky with some wrapping

Big brother - (platonic!Steve Rogers x reader) Steve helps reader after a breakup

Christmas Angel - (Bucky Barnes x reader) Reader takes Bucky Chrismtas shopping

Christmas in the Woods - (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes) The boys pick up their Christmas tree

Happy Birthday - The team throw a surprise birthday party for reader

Christmas Fever - (Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes) The boys find reader crying in the middle of the night

Snowed In - (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Bucky and the reader get stuck in a snow storm

Christmas Claustrophobia - (Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes) Reader has a panic attack when she gets stuck in the attic

The Gryffindor and the Hufflepuff - Reader helps the boys find their Hogwarts Houses

Mistletoe Kisses - (Loki Odinson x Reader) What happens under the mistletoe, stays under the mistletoe

Belonging - (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Bucky comes home to find reader locked up in her room

Teacher’s Pet - (Student!Steve Rogers x Professor!Reader) Steve Rogers is a teacher’s pet

Lost - After a terrible accident, reader ends up in the Marvel universe

Widow's Bite - Imagine Natasha beating the shit out of your abusive ex

Puppy Eyes - What happens when the boys use their puppy eyes to drag reader into an animal shelter

I’ll always catch you when you fall - (Peter Parker x Stark!reader) Peter’s first mission with the team after the dusting doesn’t go to plan, reader cheers him up

Trust Me - (Bucky Barnes x reader) Bucky takes reader on a ride

Confident - (Stucky x reader) What’s wrong with being confident?

Birthday Surprise - (Stucky x reader) It’s your birthday

Welcome to the jungle - Tony turns the team into animals

A Father’s Fear - (Steve Rogers x Reader) What happens when you tell Steve you’re pregnant

Sickday - (Steve Rogers x Reader) Steve takes care of a sick reader

Concussion - (Stucky x Reader) Reader has a concussion

Thunderstorm - (Skinny!Steve Rogers x Reader) College AU where Steve and the Reader spend time together in the library while it rains outside

Full Throttel - Biker AU! What happens when a bar owner gets caught in a war between two rival MC’s

One Call Away - (Steve Rogers x Reader) Steve is always one call away

Scorpia - What happens when the Barton sister no one knew about shows up at the Avengers Compound littered with injuries?

Jazz Girl - (Stucky x Reader) Reader takes the boys dancing

Heart of the Ocean - (Stucky x Reader) Mer! AU Steve is a selkie who is mated with merman Bucky. What happens when they discover a group of merpeople hunting a human woman?

Sparring Time - (Stucky x Reader) Steve and Bucky decide it’s time for the reader to learn hand to hand combat, but she has a few tricks up her sleave

The Bet - (Stucky x Reader) Tony, Sam, Nat and Wanda take a bet on how fast the reader will show her hand (companion piece to Sparring Time)

Love Machine - (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Reader gets a big surprise when meeting Bucky's furbaby for the first time

The Arranged Marriage - (Prince!Steve Roger x Princess!Reader) Victorian era au where Steve and the reader are betrothed but cannot stand one another, will the sparks fly or will everything go down in flames?

Baby Blues - (Stucky x Reader) The boys come home to find the reader near tears because she can’t calm down their daughter

Puppy Love - (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Bucky and the reader find a box of puppies for sale and decide to take them home

Beg for Mercy - (Hades!Bucky Barnes x Persephone!Reader) Even the king of hell bows to his queen

The Distraction - (Steve Rogers x Reader) Steve is shocked to learn it’s his turn to play the distraction

Yes, Alpha - (Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader) Reader is being stubborn about staying in bed until her alpha steps in

Home - (Stucky x Reader) After a rough day at the compound Steve and Bucky find out what home means to them.

The Howling Commando - (Stucky x Reader) tony organises a Halloween party and fem!reader goes dressed in a howling commandos uniform and Steve and Bucky are just: 'error. Supersoldier.exe has stopped working'

Occupational Hazard - (Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff) Steve learns the hard way that Natasha always carries a blade wherever she goes.

Super Soldiers and Panic Attacks - Steve and Bucky help the reader with a panic attack in the happiest place on earth.

Christmas in July - The team wake up to find the compound full of the smell of Christmas

The Necromancer - Necromancer Bucky is encouraged by deceased reader to find Steve

Festive Spirit - The reader loves Christmas and Bucky is a bit of a Grinch

Snowballs and Hot Cocoa - Day 1 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. It’s the first heavy snowfall of winter and the team spends it playing in the snow before snuggling up with some hot cocoa.

The Annual Cookie Baking Bonanza - Day 2 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. The reader wakes up early to bake Christmas cookies, only to be sent back to bed once Bucky, Steve and Sam arrive back from a mission

Operation: Deck the Halls - Day 3 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. The reader is on a mission; to decorate the Avengers Tower living spaces before the team wakes. Will she succeed or will she fall asleep before the task is complete?

Carols and Cuddles - Day 4 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. Steve, Bucky and the reader are enjoying a quiet evening at home when they get a very, not so very unexpected surprise.

Girls’ Night In - Day 5 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. The girls spend the night relaxing after a long week of missions.

December Date Night - Day 6 of my 25 Days of Chrismtas Celebration Calendar. It’s date night for Steve and Y/N. Steve plans on making it absolutly magical

The Christmas Tree Lighting - Day 7 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. The town closest to the compound is holding their annual tree lighting ceremony and have invited the Avengers to attend but not everything goes smoothly, luckily Steve and Bucky are there to save the day.

The Annual Stark Christmas Gala - Day 8 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. It’s time for the annual Stark Christmas Gala, but Y/N isn’t really in the mood. Maybe a new friend can turn that around.

Online Shopping - Day 9 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. All Bucky wants to do is go home, curl up with his best and do some online shopping, but she has other plans

Signed, Sealed and Delivered - Day 10 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. Y/N gets Fury an early Christmas present. Fury is not very jolly, or so they think.

The Annual Avengers’ Family Christmas Card - Day 11 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. It’s time for the annual avengers family Christmas card and Steve gets a little more than just a photo out of the deal.

The Mystery of the Secret Santa - Day 12 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. The Secret Santa strikes and Clint knows exactly which lab tech with their own secret and a supersoldier boyfriend is responsible.

Crafts for Christmas - Day 13 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. Peter helps y/n make some Christmas baubles.

Snowstorm - Day 14 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. Y/N is stuck in a snowstorm on her way home, but not everything is as bad as it seems.

Going Home - Day 15 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. Y/N is on her way home for Christmas when Steve drops a bomb on her.

Turkey Sandwich with a side of Vomit - Day 16 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. Y/N gets food poisoning from a turkey sandwich. Luckily Doctor Barnes is there to make it all better.

Snowy Slopes and Broken Bones - Day 17 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. Y/N, Steve, and Bucky go on vacation and Steve wants to go snowboarding.

A Disney Christmas - Day 18 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. When Tony announces a Christmas vacation Y/N is the personification of the energizer bunny, but not everything is as it seems.

Avengers Pajama Party - Day 19 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. It’s time for the avengers family holiday pajama party and y/n has a little surprise for Bucky.

A Snowy Engagement - Day 20 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. Bucky and y/n go for a snowy walk in Central Park.

The Winter Wedding - Day 21 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. Bucky and y/n get married in a Christmas Eve wedding. Part of my Lost universe.

A MC Christmas - Day 22 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. It’s Christmas time at the Howling Commandos MC. Part of my Full Throttle universe.

Flannel Shirts and Reindeer Skirts - Day 23 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. Y/N takes Bucky home for a family Christmas at the Barton farm. Part of my Scorpia universe.

The Festive Education of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes - Day 24 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. Y/N teaches Steve and Bucky about Christmas.

The Yule Feast - Day 25 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. Y/N and Steve have their own private yule feast with their children. Part of my Arranged Marriage universe.

The Ice Queen’s Secret - When Bucky and Y/N get stuck together in a dingy cabin during a snowstorm secrets are revealed

Steven’s Secret - Y/N has been very busy lately with juggling her job, studies and spending time with Steve Rogers, her boyfriend of two years, causing Steve to distance himself from her. What will happen when she hears him talking to Sharon about telling his girlfriend where he’s been for the last three weeks?

A Pep Talk From The Past - Bucky gives himself a pep talk before asking y/n a very important question.

Solving the Mystery of the Secret Valentine - Two months after Bucky finds out y/n is keeping secrets from him it all comes to a head when the compound is attacked, or is it?

The Misunderstanding - Bucky thinks y/n is cheating on him with Steve, but everything is not as it seems.

A Dinner to Die For - No one goes after y/n family and gets away with it, no one.

Audiobook of Love - Steve and Bucky are missing their best girl while on a mission, but she has a special surprise for them.

Migraines and Movies - Tony drops everything when his daughter needs him.

Scrapes and IHOP Pancakes - Nat and y/n have a post-mission breakfast

Trick or Treat - It is Brooklyn and Sarah’s first time going trick or treating, and their Avengers aunties and uncles love their costumes

Tolkien

The Royal Artist - (Thranduil x elf!reader) Thranduil meets the reader on a beach and is so entranced by her that he invites her to stay at the palace, but she has her own past that she is running from, will it finally catch up with her?

The Bookelf - (Thranduil x Elf!Reader) Thranduil finds a distraught reader in the forest and takes her under his wing

#master list #nerdy-bookworm-1998 #marvel #avengers #tolkien

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rainbows-fanfics · 6 years ago

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Two Dearest Friends (Chapter 6)

Summary:

Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King of Halloween Town, meets Sally, a ragdoll created by Dr. Finklestein. A friendship blossoms between them as he introduces her to the world outside of her tower. Sally is falling for him as their relationship grows into something more, and Jack finds the same is happening to him.

A story where the Christmas incident never happens, and Jack and Sally find their happiness on their own.

Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally

It takes awhile until she can wrack up the nerve. Days of relentless chores, scrubbing, cooking, and sewing. She's been fighting off the thought every day since her last encounter with Jack. The last time she remembers being truly happy - away from the work and demands she has to face here. And it's those thoughts that cause her to cave in. She decides to add a cup of Deadly Nightshade into one of the Doctor's lunches, being he was in a good mood and it was easy to do. When she gives it to him, he gulps it down easily, compliments that her cooking skills are getting better, and then faints right on the spot. She opens a nearby pantry to take an extra blanket off of one of the shelves, unfolding it and neatly draping it over Finklestein's unconscious body. Then she leaves for the town through the front door. The sight of the Skellington Manor looming over the town fills her heart with hope. ----------------- She feels completely out of place. She can't find any familiar faces in the crowds, and some of them are giving her odd looks. The fact is as clear as day -- she's lost. She decides to find somewhere she can at least feel at home, or in a better one...Maybe there is a seamstress shop somewhere? Before she can search for once, she stumbles upon a familiar-looking store. If she recalls correctly, this is the same place Jack recommended to her during their tour. The doors are wide open this time. She goes straight in and is greeted right away with various potions - the liquids inside of them sparking, fizzing, or even fogging. She's too busy marveling at these that she doesn't notice a figure come from behind her. "Welcome to 'Witches' Goods'!" A voice booms. "Feel free to take a look around!" She turns around but finds no one. Someone taps her knee and when she looks down, she finds a very small witch looking back at her. She has a big wart on the end of her long, green nose and has messy black hair that was tied back in a ponytail, all while wearing a signature witch's hat. "Say..." The witch eyes her. "Haven't I seen you around with Jack before?" She's unsure how to reply, and awkwardly fiddles with her hands. "You might have?" They're both cut off by someone riding a broom between them. A lady jumps off and lands beside the other witch. This one has white, ruffled hair and is much taller. She has, not one, but three warts on the end of her nose. The figure takes a step forward and inspects her, making her get flustered and take a step back. "You're right, Zeldaborne! This is the girl who Jack spent all day with, don't you remember?" She nudges the witch gently. "What is it? Susan?" "It's Sally." She corrects. "Well, Sally, I just wonder what business you had to have to spend that long with our King." She jabs a finger accusingly in her direction. "He doesn't give just anyone that much attention, you know!"

"Oh, he was just giving me a tour...of-of the town. Because I'm new." Zeldaborne smacks a hand to her forehead. "Oh, that's RIGHT! You must be the Doctor's new creation. That explains the new face." "Indeed it does, sister!" Helgamine replaces her accusing attitude with a welcoming smile. "We welcome you to our shop, then! Is there something you needed today?" "Actually, yes. I was wondering if there are any seamstresses around here?" The two witches exchange confused glances. The tall witch turns back to her and shrugs. "There aren't any here, I'm afraid. Haven't been for awhile. But if you'd like anything else, we'll be happy to do business with you!" She frowns, clearly disappointed at this answer. "Oh...I don't know what I'd want." "How about taking a look at our Pumpkin King selection? Everything is 35% off!" They direct her over to a stand, which, when she finally looks at it, seems more like a shrine. When she approaches it, she can see the many familiar faces of the merchandise in there - all consisting of Jack's face. Whether they're on dolls or pieces of paper or even bottles...he's everywhere. She grabs one of the dolls and feels her heart burn as she holds it. It feels nothing like the real Jack...he's warmer and smells of pumpkins. This one is made of cloth and stuffing - which she knows for sure because she is also a doll. She doesn't notice the two witches are now at her side, resting their heads in their hands and gazing dreamily. "/sigh/ Jack......" They sigh longingly in unison, causing her to jump and drop the doll. The two fight for it until Helgamine holds it in her arms, clutching it close to her chest. By this point they both have their eyes half-lidded and big smiles that reach their cheeks. She wonders if they're suddenly under a spell. "Did you know Jack once called me pretty?" Zeldaborne suddenly asks. Sally doesn't quite understand. "Pretty?" "He also called me interesting!" Helgamine exclaims. "He's such a horrifying man. It's as if he could hold the world on his finger." She blinks and says nothing. Jack is pretty dreamy...he is everything she ever wanted in anyone, come to think of it. The skeleton can probably pick any ghoul he desires with those looks of his. A tinge of worry suddenly comes to the ragdoll at this thought, and she tries to get rid of this hollow feeling in her chest. "He called me smart..." She brings up slowly. "Does that count?" They scrunch up their noses at her response. Helgamine repeats, "Smart? No, no! We're talking about how beautiful he sees us! It's not a surprise with looks like THESE, after all." They start pampering themselves with their magic, exaggerating their blemishesg. They begin to talk more and more about Jack, never seeming to leave the topic. Neither of them hadn't notice her slipping out of the shop. They don't stop talking and she can still hear them when she's at the end of the street. She sighs in relief once she's far away that she can't hear them anymore. As much as she appreciates hearing more about the Pumpkin King, THAT was just overwhelming. But maybe those two are just really attached to Jack? Something about that thought makes her leaves hurt, and she doesn't know why. What is so bad about being smart, anyway? There isn't anything wrong with it. Sometimes the Doctor praised her intelligence and would scold her for not being smart enough. Treasuring looks over brains isn't fair. And Jack likes her intelligence. He said so himself! She doesn't realize the melody she's humming on her way back home, nor the new confidence she has in her steps. ------------ The Doctor is still asleep when she comes back. He is snoring loudly in the lab, and when she peeks in, she sees a pile of drool collected on the table. At least that's a sign he won't be waking up soon. She takes this chance to scamper up back into her room, shielding herself behind the closed door. She sits there and daydreams some more about Jack. That is, until she hears his wheelchair powering up from the bottom floor. When she glances back, she finds Finklestein in her doorway with an ice pack held on his head. He looks miserable. "Do you know how long I was asleep, Sally?" He groans. "I've got a great headache..." "You've been sleeping for awhile now, Doctor." She fakes a smile. "Have you been working a lot recently?" "You know very well that I've been working!" Her smile falters. Doctor Finklestein slumps in his chair. For a moment, she thinks she sees some sympathy in his eyes past his glasses. "I'm sorry, it's just...this has got to be a tremendous migraine. Perhaps I should ease down on the work. Just a tad bit. Halloween is coming soon, after all..." He's out the door before she can say anything more. She doesn't want to bother him and goes back to thinking. That is, until she remembers she still has a couple of books to finish about Halloween. She's grabs her books from under the bed, opening them and starting to read the History of Cat's Wails. ---- Her room is completely dark by the time she finishes the book. She doesn't feel tired at all, but slips on her pajamas anyway. She's about to climb into her bed until she sees a wave of white coming from her window. When she comes closer, another flicker comes. She gazes out curiously until she finds the source -- The Skellington Manor. A tower on the top of the mansion is currently illuminated by something bright. It flickers fiercely for a moment until it fades completely. She stands there and blinks once or twice, waiting for it to come back again. "Oh, Jack..." She murmurs to herself. "What are you doing now?" He would sometimes stay up from nights to no end, she found. Sometimes his light would only switch off when morning came. All she can see now is a dimly-lit window from afar. She sees his outline get up from a seat and start pacing around. The figure continues this while the ragdoll watches with curious yet longing eyes. Then, the lights goes out, and the windows are dark like they were before. Sally waits for a minute or two until climbing back into bed. She wraps the blankets around her figure and lays there in silence. Her eyes are still locked on the window, at the dark tower that once showed her the shadow of a man she was coming to admire ever so greatly... When she finally closes her eyes, her thoughts are overwhelmed with ideas. Did he finally create life like Finklestein did? Or was he doing one of those fancy "experiments" she'd see from time to time? All she can think are the many things he could be doing in there. What he's thinking, what he's doing, and what he might be saying. She turns to the side and smiles, a nice feeling growing in her leaves. Thoughts like these always put her mind to rest and have her sleep in peace. Maybe thinking about him is all she needs to get through these nights... -------- Finklestein is right about Halloween being very important here. Outside of her bedroom window is a filled town square, with monsters alike standing about. She can barely make out an empty space anywhere. No matter how many times she scans the crowds, she can never find Jack. She thinks it'd be easy to - an insanely tall skeleton would stick out like "a sore claw". She finished her books on Halloween earlier that week, but they still didn't give her much information. All she learned was that creatures often used props and scary cobwebs to decorate their houses with. She also learned more about how black cats are considered unlucky and how ghosts learned how to deal with pain. Nothing that correlated to Halloween exactly. The ragdoll is now making her way down the ramps. She'd trip and stumble every so often, but that was inevitable. Once she is on the first floor, she hears voices coming from the living room. She recognizes the Doctor's and hears the Mayor's follow after. This must be another one of their meetings. "Ah, that's excellent! I'll be sure to tell Jack you're going to participate this year, Doc." "Yes, yes, that's fine. Is there a deadline for this project?" "So long as you get it done by the 25th, it should be fine. I hope you're having horrible ideas this year!" "You could say so, yes." Sally slowly peeks into the room, trying her best not to be seen. The Mayor is standing in front of the kitchen table, leaning forward and shaking Doctor's hand generously. When she looks at her creator, she finds his hands are itchy and he's sitting attentively in his wheelchair. This must mean he'll be caught up in his studies later - he usually looks like this when he has something on his mind. When she tries to get a better look at what is happening, her hair slips from behind her ear, and causes the Mayor to see her. "Ah, miss Sally!" He tips his hat to her. "I hope you're doing well this horrible evening." Finklestein looks up in surprise before changing it to anger. Oh, dear. She is supposed to be working, wasn't she? She gives the Mayor a sheepish smile and slowly steps out of the doorway. It'd be rude not to address him,. "Why, yes, I am. Thank you." The Mayor's grin widens as he motions back to the Doctor behind him. "-I was just telling the Doctor here the plans for this year's Halloween. It truly is the most horrible time of the year!" She can't help herself. "Horrible?" "Why, yes. This year will be the best that has yet to come! Because, of course, your father here will be making the renovations on the wheeled horse that carries Jack. It'll be more quick and-" "Husband." "Doctor." Both Finklestein and Sally pause. He scowls behind his glasses while she gulps in fear. She can already imagine the earful she'll be getting from him in only a matter of seconds. The Mayor stands between the two of them and awkwardly scratches at his forehead. "Well, um...I best be going! Make sure that-" "If I may, Mr. Mayor..." She steps forward, managing to ignore the Doctor's glare on her back. This is very bold of her to do, but she's risking it, anyway. "I was curious as to what everyone is doing outside?" "Oh! Well, every year on the first week of October, the town prepares for Halloween through activities! This week is carving pumpkins." "Why do they do that?" "Because-" "THAT IS ENOUGH!" They both freeze as the Doctor angrily wheels over to them. He points an accusingly gloved finger at Sally. It is clear that he wants to outright yell at her, but the Mayor's company prevents him from doing so. Instead, he settles on a low, cautious tone. "Sally, I want you back in your room in precisely 3 seconds. Do you hear me?" She can feel her leaves start to tingle in fear. The ends of her lips start to quiver as she nods gently. Before she can leave, however, the Mayor steps in front of her. His expression has changed from happy to sad, and one could tell from his tone that he is very uneasy. "Doctor, there's really no need for that. If Sally wants to know more about Halloween, I'll be happy to-" He holds up a gloved hand to silence him. "I appreciate your concern, Mayor, but I'll have none of it. I know what's best for her. Go, now, Sally." He gives his ragdoll a dismissive wave of the hand. She stands there in disbelief until he repeats the gesture. Reluctantly, she leaves the room and climbs up the ramps. When she's out of sight, she slows down and clutches at her arm. She regrets ever pushing her luck. She knew she was going to get in trouble - but getting yelled at in front of someone else feels so humiliating. She can still hear the Mayor's voice from below. "I'm sorry if I caused you two any trouble. If you need anything, Doctor, just let me know." "Well, your department HAS lost my certificate. I can't ask for anything more." "We'll look into it. Tell Sally I hope she feels better." She's in her room by the time he leaves. She sits on the bed and stares at the floor in silence. The sounds of commotion outside catches her attention, and she removes herself to watch the scene from her window. All of the citizens out there look so...happy. They're laughing, smiling, and some are even holding hands. She closes her eyes and clenches her fists. She can now feel the physical suffocation of the Tower, and the mental frustration of the Doctor's rules. She refuses to be cooped up in her room and only leaving it to cook and clean. Not when there's so much outside. And especially not while Jack's out there and she's stuck in here. She moves to peek outside of her room, finding the hallway empty. She tiptoes down and peers into the living room. Finklestein is no longer there. She takes this chance to reach the front door, but hesitates once it comes to grabbing the handle. Should she really do this? Sneak out into the open just like this? Take advantage of what little faith the Doctor has in her by leaving the door unlocked? She feels both sides gnawing at the insides of her brain, but when she peeks through the crack and sees Jack's home, her decision is made. She opens the door and quickly shuts it behind her. = ------- She enters through the town square, naturally, and recognizes just a few of the endless monsters there. She finds children running around playing games, crowds idling by and chatting, as well as a long table filled with pumpkins and creatures carving them. The sight of such happiness lightens her mood, and she completely forgets about the Doctor as she joins the crowds. While walking around, she can't help but admire all of the decorations. Paper bats, glowing pumpkins, extra cobwebs, ragged sheets...everything is everywhere. She gets close enough to the tables that she starts to overhear people's conversations. One group erupts into laughter, which catches her attention. The group contains a werewolf, four vampire brothers, and a few other creatures Sally doesn't know. "Did you hear about Jack?" The Werewolf asks, stuffing his paw in a pumpkin. "People say he locked himself in his house again." "Vhat?" One of the vampires asks. "I heard zat he's locked himself in ze study!" "Technically, that'd count as his house, too." "Vell," A short vampire cuts a hole in his pumpkin. "Vhatever he's doing, he hasn't been around for a veek. Vhat do you zink happened?" "Don't know. How much you want to bet he's caved in and left town?" "Don't be ridiculous! Jack loves his town! And Halloween! And us!" "I'm joking, Harlequin." None of them speak after that, so she decides to remove herself and continues to walk aimlessly around town. Every now and then she hears someone mention Jack. The discussions all revolve around him missing or how he locked himself inside of his house. She isn't sure what to think of this information. They can just be rumors, and he really is okay. Right? She eventually finds some familiar faces; the Halloween Town band leaning against a wall, engaged in a song. When they see her, they stop playing and give her their full attention. James is the first to greet her, waving casually. "Heya', Dolly. Nice ta' see your face 'round here." "As with you three." She bows politely. "How are you doing?" "Horrible, just horrible. 'S th' same gig as every year. Every festival th' Mayor has us play a song or two." "That's exciting." "Say..." James rubs his pointed chin. "What are ya' doin out here, anyway? Come to join th' festivities?" The ragdoll shakes her head. "I'm afraid not. I'm not exactly supposed to be here as it is..." A thought suddenly occurs to her. She looks at the three and asks, "Do any of you know what happened to Jack?" The three of them exchange glances. Jimmy turns back to her and shrugs. "Who knows? The guy's hard to read. Sometimes he'll be out and about and the next he's in his house all day. I suggest you don't listen to the rumors, though. They get around faster than a bat in the sun." "But is he alright?" Her tone sounds worrisome, which earns a knowing glance from James to the rest of his crew. He turns back to her and places an assuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry 'bout him, Doll. He's alright where he is, I'm sure. The guy can just be...a little unpredictable." She doesn't say anything more, disappointed with the answer. She really wants to know if he's okay. She's been caring about him more than herself lately. And she was sure that he would worry about her well-being, too. Past his role as King, maybe. A cold feeling comes to her at this thought and she starts gnawing on her bottom lip unconsciously. "Aw, don't be sad." James pats her back lightly. "We'll play a song for ya'. How 'bout that?" "Thank you for the offer, but I'm alright." She frowns. "I'll be seeing you around, I guess." She walks back into the crowds without another word. She's becoming a little gloom. She is still upset at Finklestein, so she can't return to the tower. It is much too suffocating. Just the thought of being there makes her restless. So she makes her way to the only place she knows relaxes her, and what is starting to become her favorite place in all of town: The Graveyard.

#the nightmare before christmas #long post #jack and sally #tnbc #disney #fanfiction #two dearest friends #jack skellington #jack x sally #the mayor of halloween town

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minuete-blog · 6 years ago

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Philes’ Xmas Advent Calendar Prompt Day 25: Christmas Day

🎄 Merry Christmas!!!🎄

The very last advent prompt story is finally here. It is the first and only multichapter I’ve drafted for a series on AO3. Thank you to all who traveled through this journey of various degrees of angst (there were only 5 stories?) to the early msr fluff. Special thanks to @only-txf-fanart for the Advent Calendar Prompts. My writing muse came back in time to participate.

🎁 For those of you who haven't read the series, it can be found here. 🎁

❤️For those who just want to read the subtle romance that blossomed from this advent calendar series, read in this order: I’m Offering You The World, Last Minute, The RomCom Gift, and Christmas Offering. ❤️

Tagging @today-in-fic @txf-prompt-box

Christmas Offering

Chapter 1. Movie Missed

Scully feels warm and cozy as she sinks deeper into the couch. She hears Mulder calling her from a distance, strands of hair being swept away from her face with a gossamer touch. She hums in defiance, wraps the afghan blanket more securely around her.

“That won’t do.” She hears Mulder chuckle. She furrows her eyebrows and manages to crack open her eyes making out a blurry image of Mulder kneeling on the ground, his chin resting on the crook of his right elbow upon the couch, facing her at eye-level. He smiles softly.

“Hey there, Scully. The movie just ended.”

“What?” She asks confused, disoriented as she sits up, her hair plastered on the left side of her face. Pouting a little, still groggy from sleep, she remembers what happened. “I missed the movie?” Mulder nods and gets up off the ground to run his fingers along her left cheek and loosen the strands of hair stuck to her face. She thinks she felt a featherlight kiss on her left temple.

“Come on. Go freshen up. I’ll have coffee ready for you before you head out.”

“Mmkay,” she mumbles and untangles herself from the blanket. A few minutes later, she re-emerges from the bathroom looking somewhat awake and decent, her hair looking more windswept than bedhead. She can smell the pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen as she sits down on the couch to put on her boots. Mulder reappears in the living room, and hands Scully the travel mug he just gifted her a couple hours ago filled with coffee. She offers her thanks as he walks her to the door. She turns around.

“Mulder, are you sure you don’t want to come to my mom’s? You’re always welcomed.” He shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m good, Scully. I won’t be the best company considering how tired I feel.”

“Well, what are you going to do the rest of the day?”

“Once you leave, I intend to fully pass out since I hadn’t slept yet. I’ll be okay, Scully.” She frowns a little, looking up at him from behind her shoulder as she opens the door. Mulder leans against the door frame as she exits. “I kept you long enough away from your family. I need to be nice and share.” Scully gives him a small smile.

“Merry Christmas, Mulder.”

“Merry Christmas, Scully.”

Chapter 2. Scully Christmas Gathering

Scully arrives at her mom’s home on time with 15 minutes to spare despite the fresh snowfall. She gulps down the last of the coffee in her travel mug before stepping out into the cold, and retrieves the large shopping bags containing the presents in the trunk and backseat of her car. Just when she reaches the front door, it suddenly opens revealing a man standing nearly six feet with ruddy brown hair and dark green eyes clad in a burgundy plaid shirt and jeans.

“Charlie?!” Scully exclaimed surprised and excited to see her little brother. She drops the bags and gives him a huge hug. He laughs.

“Hey, Sis.”

“That’s it?! A ‘hey, sis’ after years of not hearing from you, and you decide to show up on Christmas Day?!” She playfully punches him in the arm.

“Hey, now! You get photos of my whereabouts. They’re a small fortune, you know.” Scully rolls her eyes at him, though she’s not the least bit irritated by his remark. Her free-spirited brother found his true calling as a freelance photographer right after college, landing assignments every so often from travel guide magazine publishers.

“Those don’t count. You’re not even in them.”

“Yeah, but I took them.”

“I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“I know. Mom’s pissed at me right now for not telling her I’m in town. She’s upset that I won’t have any presents to unwrap. Come on, let me help you out.” Charlie reaches for the bags and brings them inside as Scully follows him to the tree. The house smells like holiday spices from the mulled spiced cider their mom prepared in the kitchen the night before. The living room looked picturesque with a roaring fireplace, complete with hung stockings and a fully decorated tree with all the ornaments handmade and collected over the years. She notices Melissa’s stocking with her favorite horse sleigh ornament hanging on the mantle. Scully smiles a small bittersweet smile as she heads over to the tree to place the gifts underneath. She sees a light flash from the corner of her eye.

“Charlie, really?” She turns to him only to be greeted with another flash of light.

“I’m creating memories, Dana. Just go about doing what you’re doing and pretend I’m not here.” She scoffs.

“Don’t worry, Dana. I’ll be turning off the flash once daylight breaks.” Scully hears footsteps coming down the stairs and sees their mom in cozy, festive flannel pajamas and a fluffy robe. Their mom smiles at the two of them beside the tree.

“I see you two are catching up. I’ll make some coffee. I already woke up Bill and Tara. They’re getting Matthew ready. The King’s Mass is held at 9 this morning. That should give us more than enough time to unwrap presents and get ready.” Their mom looked at them amused by their dubious expressions. Both Scully siblings seemed to have forgotten about the Christmas Day mass they hated attending as children. Bill hosted Christmas last year, and Scully’s previous holiday seasons had been overshadowed with life-altering events. Their mom shakes her head smiling as she heads to the kitchen.

“Shit! Crap! Sorry for cussing on Baby Jesus’ birthday. I totally forgot all about The King’s Mass. This is probably why I subconsciously avoided visiting during Christmas season,” Charlie murmured to Scully, “I guess I’ll have to don on some khakis.” He glances over at Scully, “and you look like you’re a government agent. Shouldn’t you dress in something more festive?” Scully shrugs.

“I packed an overnight bag, but I didn’t account for Mass this morning. I’ll be fine. I’m sure Tara or Mom bought me a nice scarf or something this year for me to throw on.”

Within the next couple of hours, the Scully family festivities went underway filled with chatter, coffee, spiced cider, cinnamon buns, and Christmas music playing in the background. Matthew is the main star as he wobbly walks to his Nana, allows Auntie Dana to hold him, and pats the shiny boxes that keep coming his way. Charlie stays in the background taking photographs. The adults exchange presents, with mostly Tara and their mom oohing and ahhing over presents they unwrap. Scully merely grins and offers her thanks until she opens a box from Tara that housed a royal blue blouse tunic with a scoop neckline. She gasps in amazement; she hears a click and shutter from Charlie’s camera.

“Looks like you have your festive outfit,” he says. Scully admits to her family that she plans to wear the tunic for mass as her family breaks out in laughter. She excuses herself to quickly change.

As Bill, Tara, and their mom get ready for mass, Scully tidies up the living room while Charlie entertains Matthew. “So what’s up with Fox? Why doesn’t he join us?” Scully looks at Charlie in surprise.

“He goes by Mulder and he doesn’t celebrate Christmas.” Charlie hums.

“I’ve been taking photos this whole morning, Dana. You’re here, but you’re not here. It shows.”

“I just have a lot on my mind.” Charlie shakes his head as he lets Matthew study his camera.

“No, you have this far-off look in your eyes. A restlessness about you. I recognize that look anywhere.”

“What are you trying to say, Charlie?” He purses his lips and shrugs, their conversation ending as they hear the rest of the family returning downstairs.

Bill rented an SUV that could transport all of them to the church, but Charlie insists that they take two cars.

“I wanna catch up with Dana!” Charlie announces as he runs to the passenger side door.

“Really, Charlie? I’m tired of driving,” Scully whines, but she walks to the driver’s side and unlocks her car.

Chapter 3. The King’s Mass

The Kings’ Mass at St. Mary’s Church was full of generational families much like the Scully clan. Their mom waved at many of the churchgoing ladies, offering well wishes and season’s greetings as she led them to her usual pew. Tara, Matthew, and Bill sat in the row first, followed by their mom, Scully, then Charlie. The service started with the usual procession of the pew boys, then the priest, Father Bennett, and the deacons. They had a larger than usual choir having some of the Sunday School children participating in today’s service. Just when the priest welcomed everyone to the church and encouraged all to greet their fellow brothers and sisters, Charlie turns to Scully and says, “I think you should head back home after service.”

“What?” she hissed through a fake grin as she waves at a family two pews ahead.

“You heard me, Sis. Just go.” Scully gives him a look as she sits down waiting to listen to the choir sing before the liturgy. Charlie pesters her again when they stand up to recite the hymns from the church bulletin. He causes enough commotion for their mom to give them a pointed look. Scully glances at her apologetically.

“You two are worse than Matthew,” she whispers leaning back for the two to see Matthew passed out in Bill’s arms. They sit back down again for the sermon after a deacon recited Isaiah 9:6 where Father Bennett spoke in detail of the miraculous birth of their Lord and Savior, symbolizing hope and love to mankind, but not without the struggles and sacrifice that Joseph and Mary had to endure to travel to Bethlehem.

“...so let us be reminded of His enduring love for us as we celebrate his arrival with loved ones. To not forget the road traveled for all of us to be here in this room. Let us honor his arrival with a giving spirit, full of compassion and empathy towards our fellow man,” Father Bennett concluded, “Now, as we begin communion, let us feel His loving spirit surround us.”

“Now’s your chance, Dana,” Charlie says as the pew rows were systematically dispersing to line up for communion, “Just make a break for it. You heard what Father Bennett said ‘celebrate with loved ones.’”

“I am celebrating with loved ones!” she responds a little too loudly as they stand at the ready for the church volunteer to beckon them to get in line.

“Mom, can you talk some sense into Dana, please?” Charlie says turning around giving their mom a knowing look, “I know you saw what I saw this morning. You can’t deny it.” She sighs in resignation, lips pressed together.

“Dana, I’m glad we got to spend time with you this morning, but Charlie’s right-- a part of you isn’t with us, it’s someplace else.” She gives Scully a fierce hug. “We’ll see you later this week. Charlie is staying for a couple more days before he flies out to the Netherlands. Now, go. You have some matters to attend to.” Scully’s eyes turn glassy as she manages not to cry. She smiles against her mom’s shoulder and gives her a quick peck on the cheek. She mouths and waves goodbye to Bill and Tara who each had a curious expression on their faces. Charlie gives her a quick hug and waves goodbye to her as he stands aside to let her out of the pew. She can hear Bill asking their mom where she’s going, and her mom answering that she has to attend to matters of love. Scully walks out of the church with one destination in mind.

Chapter 4. Give vs. Offer

It seems that no one left Hegal Place as Scully had to park a block away nearby a liquor store. She quickly runs into the store and purchases some items for the day. The afternoon weather is nippy, but tolerable with a heavy coat she had placed in the back of her car as she briskly walks on the sidewalk, being careful not to slip. She doesn’t know whether Mulder is at his place or not; it didn’t occur to her to give him a call during her trip. The early snowfall that morning had covered all the parked cars, making it difficult to identify which car is his. She finally arrives at his building, promptly taking off the heavy coat from the extreme temperature change. She knows her hair looks unkempt again from the weather as she takes the elevator up to the fourth floor. She can’t decide whether her heart was rapidly beating from the brisk walk or the notion that Mulder might not be home. Scully raps on the door sharply, causing the “2” in “42” to be slightly askew. To her relief, she hears muffled footsteps behind the door. The door cracks open revealing a disheveled Mulder dressed in sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He braces himself against the door frame with his right forearm as he rubs his eyes. His left hand still on the doorknob.

“Scully? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your family?” he asks in a gravelly voice, eyes squinting from the hallway light. She realizes she must have woken him up from his sleep. His eyes come into focus, and she can see him take in her appearance. “Is this how you usually dress at family gatherings? Maybe I should accompany you next time you go.” She feels a blush forming on her cheeks.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about the movie this entire morning,” she says, averting her gaze away from Mulder’s form, staring down at her boots. “It’s been bothering me, how Sandra Bullock’s character is in love with what looks like a huge asshole.” She looks up at him slightly flustered, “And Mulder! Even if I had watched ‘While You Were Sleeping’, I wouldn’t have caught on with the line you misquoted. The character’s mom gave her dad the world, which by the way is not a snow globe but a regular globe. So, I can only deduce that the actual line is ‘I give you the world’ not ‘I offer you the world.’” Mulder looks amused.

“To be fair, Scully, I only watched the movie once on cable. I thought I got the gist of the phrase, especially when paired with the snow globe I grabbed at Grand Rapids to show you. It appears much later in the movie by the way.”

“But ‘give,’ and ‘offer’ are two very different words, Mulder,” she continues, “Their meaning is completely different in context. ‘I give’ means that there are no strings attached to this phrase, no conditions set in place, while ‘I offer’ allows the other party a chance to accept or decline the option.” Scully knows she’s rambling, but she can’t stop herself. She holds up the plastic bag in her hands.

“For instance, I’m offering you this bag full of items I purchased at the corner liquor store. It contains components to make delicious hot chocolate—you still owe me hot chocolate, Mulder--”

“Of all the things to begrudge me for, it’s hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate, milk, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles, marshmallows, and peppermint sticks. And since it’s around lunch time, I even purchased some gourmet frozen dinners because I know the state of your fridge and pantry, Mulder. A man can’t suffice on sunflower seeds alone.” Mulder’s grinning at this point. He unbraces himself from the door frame and reaches for the bag, but Scully holds it away from him.

“Mulder, this is an offer. Offers usually come with conditions from the party presenting it.”

“State your conditions then, Scully.” He drawls as he leans against the door frame crossing his arms.

“I want you to be the one to prepare hot chocolate for the both of us. I also want to finish watching the movie. I want to see how Sandra Bullock’s character goes from thinking she’s in love with an asshole to falling in love with Bill Pullman’s character.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Mulder’s eyes shone brightly as he stared at her intently. Her eyes slightly widened at his question. He straightens himself up and fully opens the door. He motions with his head as he says, “Get in here, Scully.”

She exhales a breath as she crosses the threshold. Mulder murmurs, “I was thinking about you all morning too” as he closes the door behind her.

#my fic #hooray #it’s finished #advent calendar prompt #day 25 #Christmas Day #romcom trope #msr #kinda

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yeoldontknow · 7 years ago

Text

Warmth

Author’s Note: merry christmas @kpopandlock <3 i love you and i hope you enjoy your gift <3 this takes place in the Did You See universe and is an update to jongin’s story. ~you do not need to read each story to understand this one. Pairing: Jongin x Reader (oc;female) Summary: In early December, Jongin plans a date night for you. What started as plans for dinner quickly becomes a night full of surprises; what started as plans for dinner, quickly becomes the start of the rest of your life. Genre: fluff Rating: PG Word Count: 3,974

FiaNini sent a Link FiaNini[3:22 PM]: reservations made! FiaNini[3:22 PM]: we have a table reserved for 7 Y/N[3:26 PM]: !! Y/N[3:26 PM]: im so excited i haven't been there in 170000 years FiaNini[3:28 PM]: lord FiaNini[3:29 PM]: you're spending FAR too much time with yeol

Y/N[3:41 PM]: i only sent 2 !! Y/N[3:43 PM] - Message sent with Fireworks: WOULD YOU RATHER I DO THIS FiaNini[3:44 PM]: oh wow FiaNini[3:45 PM]: i love how long it took you to find the screen effects FiaNini[3:45 PM]: i thought you were typing a novel Y/N[3:46 PM]: i know :c Y/N[3:46 PM]: im ancient Y/N[3:47 PM]: so should i meet you at the place at 6.45? i can stay later at work and prep for the meeting tomorrow FiaNini[3:49 PM]: no actually can you meet me at 6.15 somewhere FiaNini[3:50 PM]: i need to pick something up first and want your opinion Y/N[3:51 PM]: oh is it that ted baker scarf you wanted? Y/N[3:52 PM]: i still stand by my opinion Y/N[3:52 PM]: burgundy brings out your eyes FiaNini[3:54 PM]: you're still on about the scarf? Y/N[3:55 PM]: YES FiaNini[3:55 PM]: it is not about the scarf Y/N[3:56 PM]: goddammit FiaNini[3:56 PM]: it's better than a scarf Y/N[3:56 PM]: ARE WE FINALLY GETTING SILK SHEETS FiaNini[3:57 PM]: what no Y/N[3:57 PM]: and why not?? Y/N[3:58 PM]: im trying to elevate our life Y/N[4:01 PM]: jongin Y/N[4:03 PM]: my love Y/N[4:05 PM]: my heart Y/N[4:09 PM]: king of pajamas Y/N[4:13 PM]: prince of chicken FiaNini[4:15 PM]: sorry for pulled into a meeting FiaNini[4:15 PM]: prince of chicken?? lmao Y/N[4:16 PM] - Sent with Gentle Effect: *whispers* silk sheets FiaNini[4:17 PM]: omfg lmao Y/N[4:17 PM]: how long were these effects here without me knowing wtf FiaNini[4:18 PM]: if i want silk sheets i'm putting them on the wedding registry and making other people pay for them Y/N[4:19 PM]: i love a genius FiaNini[4:20 PM]: ANYWAY FiaNini[4:23 PM]: im sending you a location to meet me. it's just a hallmark store. shouldn't take too long just want your opinion on a thing and then we can move onto the main event FiaNini sent a Location Y/N[4:25 PM]: oh wow i had no idea this place was here Y/N[4:26 PM]: ok! FiaNini[4:27 PM]: i adore you duchess Y/N[4:28 PM]: gross Y/N[4:28 PM]: i adore you too

Hours later, fingers gently warmed by the heat of a peppermint coffee, you wait patiently outside Jongin’s specified location with a small smile. The cold chill of the air kisses your knees, makes your skin feel somewhat tickled by December, or perhaps it's simply the season that makes you feel wrapped tightly around bliss.

Life carries on around you, gliding over and through your stillness as though you are not even there: volunteers ring bells for donations, surly men and women pass with brisk steps, and the noise of it all makes you feel somewhat connected. You’re separate from the chaos, observant and living life at a pace different to those around you, letting yourself kiss the magic and see the wind, the breath from your lips becoming a warm frost as it reaches the cold.

The night does not smell special. There are no lingering whispers of pine or spice in the air; people on their phones do not wish one another merry this or happy that. Truly, the only sign it is the holiday season are the window displays reminding you that it is so.

But you feel it, down into your bones, a kindness that cannot be silenced and a love that refuses to be kept to itself.

Against your cup, you tap your ring finger and giggle at the sound of your ring against the cardboard. Your favourite chime, you think, muffled and quiet and totally yours. Briefly, you're reminded it is a symbol and not motion of a change. This is not your first Christmas with Jongin, simply one of many, but the sentiment is different, the importance of your gift choices heavier merely because you are promising always, not just with words but with actions.

Bringing the cup to your lips, you smile to yourself once more, secretly and with private delight, sipping gently to savor the taste. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, an urgent noise for such a timeless moment, and you frown slightly at the intrusion. Not rude, not uninvited, merely unexpected.

HoHoYeol[6:11 PM]: DUCHESS!!!!! HoHoYeol[6:13 PM]: tell me what you think of this font for the save the dates HoHoYeol sent a Photo HoHoYeol[6:14 PM]: also look at the pics my talented, beautiful, perfect, gorgeous countess took of you for the mailer HoHoYeol sent a Photo HoHoYeol sent a Photo HoHoYeol sent a Photo HoHoYeol sent a Photo HoHoYeol[6:15 PM]: ISNT SHE AMAZING??? HoHoYeol[6:15 PM]: you look good too!!!!!

‘Always so early, Duchess.’

At the sound of Jongin’s voice, your body and soul stand to attention, spine tingling simply from the way his tongue kisses syllables. The richness of his tone drips over your skin, warming you down to your toes like liquid gold poured down and deep. Lifting your gaze from your phone, you both smile as your eyes meet, his own pulling wide across his face as though he were ascending dawn. Odd, you think, for he so often reminds you of the sun.

He approaches you with casual grace, delicate steps that appear almost weightless, carried towards you on the wings of desire. Behind him, his coat flaps in the wind he creates with his movements, and you are briefly reminded of flight, of motion, and of the day he asked you to marry him.

Absentmindedly, you tap your ring finger against the cup once more.

‘Aren't you cold?’ he asks as he approaches you, arms outstretched and aching to hold you.

You reach for him, body moving forward naturally in on its own as though he were your moon. ‘Not anymore,’ you murmur softly as you burrow into his neck.

No, you were not cold, but any moment without his touch feels brutal enough to numb you.

Stepping back slightly, he tucks two fingers under your chin to tilt your gaze upwards. For a moment, he hesitates, eyes scanning over your features as though memorizing you and this moment. Something like adrenaline begins to flare in your blood, but he does not give you long to ruminate over the feeling.

He presses his lips over yours and hums into the kiss, chaste and soft, but warm with delight. Leaning into the kiss, you smile against his lips, both of you beginning to giggle for seemingly no reason - overjoyed by the feeling, the season, each other. Through your coat, you feel his fingers pressing and rubbing circles against your waist, a habit he he adopted the first time he kissed you.

As you release a contented sigh, the noises around you begin to dissolve, the sound of your own heart beating serving to ground you in the moment. It reminds you you're alive, that this is living, and time moves only when you will it so, as long as you're with him.

But almost instantly, the moment is broken and fractured, the buzzing of your phone piercing the moment with a sharp, upward ding.

‘Yeol again?’ Jongin asks, moving his lips over your jaw to rest his head against your shoulder.

Peering over his head, you lift your hand to glance at the screen. He's sent more pictures, more praises, mostly for his girlfriend but many for you.

Laughing at all his enthusiasm, you step away from Jongin to scroll through his texts.

‘Yeah, with the pics for the mailer,’ you say distractedly, stopping on a rather jovial picture of you and Jongin. Turning your phone to show him, you beam. ‘Aren't we cute!’

As Jongin studies the picture, you study him, watch the way his gaze seems to pause and linger. Visibly, he seems to soften, impassive expression overruled by the one he reserves just for you, one that's easy to miss and lasts only for a moment.

As though remembering himself, he pulls back with a grin and shakes himself free of awe.

‘I like that one,’ is all he says, but weight of his words, the gentle and smooth way he says it, means his heart has been set. He turns towards the door, gesturing for you to follow him. ‘Sometimes I think he's more excited than you are about this wedding.’

Tapping out a reply, you glance up to see Jongin holding the door for you. ‘You know he likes to be involved,’ you remind him, walking quickly through the door and scrunching your nose slightly at the abrupt scent of cinnamon. ‘I just want to be married.’

‘I know,’ he says, following behind. ‘I just can't imagine what he'll be like when it's his turn.’ Pausing beside you, he does a quick once over of the store before nodding his head. ‘Over there.’

Putting your phone in your pocket, you move with Jongin and answer his rhetorical question. ‘A mess,’ you giggle affectionately. ‘Like, even more than he is now.’

As though magining Chanyeol on his wedding day, Jongin barks out an endeared laugh. ‘Well, rest while you can.’

With brisk steps he leads you over to a section devoted to ornaments, the wall lined with rows and rows of choices ranging from comical to sentimental. Fondly, you smile at each, remembering briefly how you selected ornaments for your first shared tree. Jongin was anxious with excitement then, jovial but keeping it contained beneath his skin so as not to make the wrong choice. He was careful then, as he seemingly is now, his arms crossed cover his chest as his brow tenses in thought.

You eye him quizzically, waiting for an explanation as you already selected ornaments weeks ago, with slightly less diligence. Lost in thought, he does not turn to meet your gaze, and you bring your attention to the wall before you. Almost instantly your eyes settle on a small, plastic ornament in the shape of an airplane. A sinking feeling opens in your stomach, your heart clenching in regret. This was not the ornament you selected for this year, but it should have been, it could have been, had you only seen it when you were looking. Reaching out to touch it, you let your fingers gently graze the plastic, remembering.

‘Okay,’ Jongin announces brightly, bending over quickly to pick up a box. ‘What do you think?’

Straightening, he shows you his selection with a satisfied grin. He’s proud of this, wrinkles forming around his eyes and a laugh threatening to spill over from his lips, cheeks puffing with the strain. Lightly, he shakes the box, jiggling it happily as he watches you take it in. You glance at the ornament and then at him, silent and still, feeling slightly shellshocked.

Chewing your inner cheek, you read the words on the box over and over as you try to quell the thousand questions burning on your tongue. It’s not a mistake, you realize as your cheek begins to bleed. You did not read it wrong. In plain letters, the words BABY’S FIRST CHRISTMAS are printed in cursive, and etched into the glass moon of the ornament.

Finding your voice, you step back slightly, giving yourself a bit of distance from the object. ‘Do you know something I don’t?’

‘No,’ he shrugs happily. ‘Just, what do you think?’

Nodding as you keep your eyes trained on the words, you keep your expression impassive as you struggle though disbelief. ‘I think I’m not pregnant,’ you state plainly.

‘I know,’ he nods eagerly, not seeming to give in to your confusion. ‘But what do you think?’

‘I think it’s lovely, but -’

Jongin cuts your words off with a delighted laugh. ‘This is the one!’

Bewildered, you watch him move quickly to the counter, and wait patiently for him to say it was a joke, that he is kidding. But the clerk scans the box and he reaches for his wallet, nonchalant and without any heaviness or hesitation in his fingers. It’s when the cashier smiles at him, offers words of congratulations, that you feel your body moving while Jongin accepts her well wishes with glee.

‘What is happening?’ you murmur as you reach his side, words sounding more like a hiss than a question.

He rocks back and forth on his toes, his hand rubbing gently along the hem of your coat. ‘I’m buying an ornament,’ is his simple reply.

You huff, leaning your weight onto one foot as you watch the cashier bag the item. ‘You’re not just buying an ornament.’

‘I know,’ he says, suddenly serious. ‘I’m buying the best ornament. I’m so glad you agree.’

‘Jongin -’

Once again, he cuts you off, holding out his arm for you to take with a wide smile. ‘Shall we?’

You’re silent as Jongin leads you away from the shop with confident steps, hurried and impatient. Beside him, you move quickly to keep up with him, mind racing with too many questions for your hands to catch. This, you know, has been planned for ages, whatever this is. Always, he’s been like this, perceptive and observant when it comes to gifts, the objects themselves ranging from small to grand, nothing selected without careful, devoted thought.

But when he is like this, excited and anxious, eyes narrowed and heart on a mission, he is standing on the precipice of monumental change. The first time you saw him like this was the night he kissed you, and then again when he proposed. When his jaw clenches and his fingers hold yours a little too tightly, that’s when you start to brace for a shift. The world is moving around you as you move within it, and you cannot help but feel unprepared.

Children was not something you discussed, not with any serious intent. In passing you’ve discussed your desires, teased casually with each other about the future, but you had assumed the notion was a long way off, an undertaking for a different day. And while the light in his eyes when he’s like this makes your heart swell and your soul fall a little bit more in love, the confusion gathering in your veins makes you feel overwhelmed and somewhat frantic.

‘The restaurant is the opposite direction,’ you offer after a while, studying his reaction to the words.

He does not turn to meet your gaze, instead leads you around a corner of an unfamiliar street. ‘This is a shortcut.’

‘Jongin,’ you say sharply, wincing slightly at the harshness of your tone. Unphased, he simply chuckles at your side. ‘What the hell is going on?’

‘We’re having a date!’

‘Why are you so cheery about my confusion?’ you pout, trying unsuccessfully to surrender to surprise.

‘Because it’s adorable,’ he beams, turning finally to gaze at you. Propelled forward by his motion, you bump into his chest and let yourself become enveloped in his embrace. ‘You’re so pink and frustrated.’

You cling to him, hoping for reassurance and understanding, trying to let yourself feel surprised with this date. Somewhere, excitement begins to build, and you try to focus on it, to release the disappointment of a meal at your favourite restaurant, and to give over to trust. Breathing in the scent of his cologne, you steady yourself, let your fingers wind tightly in the fabric of his coat.

Jongin would not make a choice this large, not without conversation and certainly not without you. A simple fact, a heady truth, and one that makes the tension in your muscles relax.

‘I’m not pink,’ you whine into his chest.

His lips come to the crown of your head, pressing a kiss to your hair before pulling into a smile. ‘You’re very pink,’ he whispers, and you grin at the sensation of his breath moving individual strands, tickling you with his non-touch. ‘We’re here by the way.’

Stepping back to look at him, you study his expression momentarily, taking in the flush at his cheeks and the emotions that glisten in his eyes. Wherever he has taken you is meaningful, heavy, makes him suck his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from explaining everything all at once. Bouncing slightly, he studies you in return, willing you to want this gift as much as he does, and you think seeing him like this, boyish and wild, makes you limitless.

It does not matter what he gives you because it is an extension of his love, and his love makes you boundless.

Glancing up at the storefront, you realize with a start it is not a store at all. On a vinyl awning spanning the length of the building, the letters ASPCA are printed in blue letters. It hits you all at once, and paradoxically does not come at all, your mind blanking as your mind rushes to form words.

‘Jongin,’ you whisper, not taking your eyes off the letters. ‘What is this?’

It is not the question you want to ask, not even the question you meant to ask, rather it is an amalgam of every question, every thought you are able to formulate. Memories swim, some vivid and some faded, formless things you can no longer entirely recall, but all containing the wish of something to love. How long had you talked about it, the silence in the house that could be filled by such a small thing? Years, you think, perhaps from the moment you moved in together. Perhaps, from the moment you met.

‘I know it’s super early, but…’ Jongin’s voice leaves him, emotions turning it thick before it disappears completely.

Turning your gaze back to him, you see how relieved he is for you to know the truth, a weight seemingly lifted from his shoulders. It’s the most relaxed you’d seen him in weeks, the giving over to wonder and bliss.

‘Jongin.’ His name on your lips feels like enough, feels like a gift in itself, and it’s all you can manage before he breaks from you to head inside.

‘Hi,’ he says as he reaches the reception, ‘I’m here to pick up Abby?’

The sound of the name sparks something within you that traverses the line between terror and elation, and you briefly think on how those emotions feel the same, relying entirely on context.

‘I’m sorry,’ he explains, turning to see your somewhat blank expression and starting to panic, words coming in a rush. ‘I know we should have talked about it and chosen together, but I saw her and thought she was perfect. And then I came here two weeks ago and met her and she’s completely perfect. I just - ’

Your gasp of surprise cuts of him off, the sight of a kind looking young woman carrying a Corgi puppy in her arms. Abby wiggles excitedly at the sight of you and Jongin, as though recalling Jongin and wanting to be with him once more. She’s a flash of tan and white, small and beautiful.

Moving past Jongin, you greet her with wide, wet eyes.

‘Hello,’ you coo, running a finger over her snout and laughing at the softness.

‘Sit with her,’ the assistant says, lowering Abby to the floor and handing you the lead as she turns to Jongin. ‘We can finish up the paperwork.’

Lowering yourself to the floor, you let Abby walk around you in circles as she sniffs. It takes a mighty effort, not reaching for her and simply letting her learn you in her own time. But she takes to you quickly, just as eager as you to be in your lap and in your arms, her tiny body trying to climb over your legs.

‘Let me help you,’ you laugh softly, lifting her gently to rest in your lap.

The warm of her fur feels like holding a small sun, and your heart skips at the familiar sensation, just like when you hold Jongin close. Immediately, you see her as family, as the missing piece of a life with him you did not know had been absent. As though she cannot get enough of you, she crawls up to your chest, paws pressing into you in earnest to get and remain close. She yelps for your attention, happy and excited and desperate to love you, and so you lift her, cuddle her into your chest and laugh as her warm tongue glides along your jaw.

Like this, you fall into your own world, eyes closed and falling in love all over again. Abby’s heartbeat races against your chest, fragile and delicate like a hummingbird, while your own heart opens and makes room to fit her inside, easily and without question.

Rustled movement catches your attention, and you open your eyes to see Jongin settling to kneel before you. Eyes wide, he watches the way Abby turns her attention to him, conflicted, as as though she is eclipsing two suns, unable to discern where her focus should lie. His expression matches your own, one of pure love and adoration, a flush creeping up his neck as he struggles to keep his composure.

Reaching out to stroke her head, he speaks quietly, reverently. ‘I know how much you always wanted a Corgi, and -’

‘She’s perfect,’ you whisper in response, unable to tear your eyes from her small form.

For a while, he remains silent and lets the world fade, wrapping you both in a bubble of protective adoration. ‘I know,’ comes his eventual, quiet reply.

‘Is she really ours?’ you ask, looking up at him finally.

Wetness runs down your cheeks, making your brow furrow. You don’t know when you started crying.

‘Mostly,’ Jongin hums, scratching under Abby’s chin. Luxuriating in his touch momentarily, she walks between you and he, eager for both of your hands. ‘She’s yours.’

Ours, you think, the love you feel for them both unable to be contained by the confines of your heart. ‘You couldn’t wait, could you?’

It’s unlike him, really, to give gifts so early. Tradition consumes his actions, making meaning behind every gift and every thought, but this, you think, is how everyday with him will be. Unremarkable days suddenly becoming extraordinary simply because he makes them so. This gift was yours as much as his, a readiness to call you his family and build it further consuming his every thought.

Like this, he is no longer able to contain his love for you, his desperation to keep you in a perpetual state of bliss bordering on urgent.

‘Do you really think I could?’ he says, sheepishly.

At this, you laugh, letting Abby nuzzle into your palm The softness of her softens your entire reality, your voice filling with warmth. ‘You’re turning into Yeol.’

Shaking his head, he lets his hand rub circles over Abby’s rump. ‘It’s you, Duchess,’ he urges, gently, peering at you bashfully through his eyelashes.

Cocking your head to the side, you hear his words and let yourself swoon. ‘It’s you, too.’

No, you think. It’s us.

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fatesinthenight · 7 years ago

Text

A Fine Christmas Morning

The sun was up on the house The boys all slept soundly snuggled in bed There was peace but not for long For a mischievous ego was ready to pounce Wilford ran into every room and jumped up and down on every bed. "It's Christmas!" He shouted with glee. This pink lad rushed to their tree where under it lay presents for all Each wrapped fitting each ego The rest of the boys came down and all gathered around All of them happy as can be Of course a dark one still looking annoyed as ever Doc opened his first and what a delight The pulls out a new mug It reads best doctor around And to much of his surprise there was more A shiny new stethoscope with his name on it Ed pulls out the tissue paper grinning He finds his prize and holds it dearly A photo of him and his boy He loves it so much And it was something he could never put a price on Host opens his gift with careful hands He feels his gift slowly and delicately A soft smile plays on his lips He feels it is a leather journal With a set of ink and a lovely quill King of Squirrels squeals with joy The largest jar of peanut butter in his grasp Even his loyal squirrels at not forgotten They squeak happily with a sock full of nuts Yandere giggles o so sweetly He holds out a new toy for his schemes A sharp katana shimmering bright He laughs both with madness and cheer Google smiles with his thoughtful gift A hand knitted sweater with a 'G' on the chest He turns to his brothers who all have one too A soft sweater indeed for a droid He wears it proudly even if it gives him a slight itch Silver rips the wrappings with excitement He pulls out a new figure for his collection This one is special of course For it is one of Silver himself The superhero in such a dramatic pose Bim Trimmer is cuddled into his pajamas He opens a box and inside is plant A soft flower that smells so nice Beside it is a new mic with his name in gold Trimmer smells his sweet flower with a smile just as sweet The Jims jump for joy They have shirts with Jim 1 and Jim 2 The boys however don't know who is one or two Now Jim and Jim don't care For a Jim is a Jim and that's all that matters Now that Dark he holds his black wrapped gift with caution He opens it slow just for precaution Once the lid is off he is taken back For it is a stack of new music sheets for his piano Just as he thought that it was done there was more He sighs as he finds a new shirt with the name Edgelord Even Dark Chica is content She wags her tail happy At her paws lies a bone with a black bow She guards it intensely Last is the fun Wilford who is most exited indeed He rips through the box so exited As he holds up his gift in the air showing it to all The rest of the egos look afraid and still Someone had the bright idea to give the pink boy a new gun A pink pistol to match his mustache Now all the boys look at their gifts happy Such a nice morning in the ego house Even if they may bicker Even if they may get on each other's nerves They are all family And a very unique family indeed *i hope everyone had a good Christmas. I'm sorry I took time to post I wanted family time for the holidays. Hope you like this one :) -Fates

#Wilford Warfstache #darkiplier #bim trimmer #dr. iplier #the host #silver shepard #ed edgar #googleplier #the jim twins #yandereplier #king of squirrels #markiplier #marks egos

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kinetic-elaboration · 8 years ago

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62 (the bed to share) WITH BELLARKE OMFG PLZ PLZ PLZ (tysm)

I had so much trouble with this one, anon!! Like way more trouble than you’d think a cute little trope-y ficlet could possible cause. That’s most of why it took so long to answer this, I’m sorry. But here it is at last!

Bellarke, Modern AU, ~2,700 words

For the prompt “It’s only one night, we’ll just share the bed” from this list.

Read on AO3.

Clarke’s hair smells likeoranges.

Bellamy already knewthis, though. He knows because they’ve hugged before: once after graduation,and once after he helped her move into her new apartment, and once after shegot back from a month abroad and he picked her up from the airport and sherushed into his arms and almost knocked him off his feet, which he hadn’t beenexpecting, at all. And he knows because a few weeks ago, they went out todinner with some friends, and he walked her home and she invited him in, and heended up kissing her against the wall outside her bedroom, in the dim lightwith her hands grabbing on to the front of his shirt and the sound ofintermittent evening traffic coming in through the window. Afterward, afterthey’d pulled apart and before she let go of his shirt and before either ofthem managed to look the other in the eye, he buried his nose in her hair andbreathed in its light citrus scent. A few strands tickled under his nose. Heremembers that moment now better than the kiss itself: how he delayed steppingback for as long as he could, how he knew even then that each extra second ofhesitation would burn into his memory.

That was three weeksago, and they still haven’t talked about it.

It’s dark now andClarke’s hair is fanned out behind her and around her on the pillow, like fairytale princess hair—if princesses slept in old worn out NASA shirts that theyobviously stole from their roommate and green plaid pants the pattern ofChristmas wrapping paper. Still, Bellamy’s surprised to see just howpicture-perfect Clarke looks in sleep. It’s like someone carefully arranged herinto the most precise pose, cute and half-curled up and utterly serene.Sleeping next to someone is supposed to break your illusions about them. Seeingtheir silly pajamas and hearing them brush their teeth, waking up the next dayto their morning breath and mussed up hair: the whole routine is designed toburn up old fantasies, to bring soaring, irrational daydreams back to Earth. Sofar sleeping next to Clarke is doing the opposite. Her hair shines even in thedarkness, fluffy and golden with the gentlest of waves.

He’d been surprisedshe didn’t pull it back in a ponytail or braid to sleep in. Octavia alwaysbraids her hair before bed. When she was little, Bellamy would do it for her:their nightly routine through her whole childhood, until she hit high schooland said she was too old. One he still misses sometimes, if he’s honest.

He’s supposed to seeO again tomorrow, but only if he makes it through tonight, through theseendless hours of insomnia, to the other end of this almost supernatural timeloop during which he’s stuck thinking the same damned thoughts after the samedamned thoughts.

When Clarkevolunteered to drive with him upstate and help Octavia move, he’d been, first,surprised, and then honestly and truly grateful. He’d asked her if she was sureatleast twelvetimes.And he’d only stopped when she’d taken him by the shoulders, looked him in theeye, and announced, “Bellamy. You’re my friend, Octavia’s my friend, and aroad trip will be fun. Plus, I want to meet this Lincoln guy. He sounds great.”

(Meeting Lincoln isanother part of this whole adventure that’s keeping Bellamy’s stomach in knotsand his brain wired and awake even at 1 a.m. He’s stuck on the eternalexistential question: is any guy, even an allegedly really smart, totally cool, crazy talented, passionate,sweet, teddy-bear-in-human-being-form guy, good enough for his baby sister?)

They were supposedto leave first thing in the morning, and get to O’s place before dinner: it would be a littletight, but they’d manage if they just left on time. But then Clarke had alast-minute emergency at home, Bellamy almost forgot the housewarming gift he’dagonized over for weeks (no, a last-minute replacement when they got into townwas not an option), and cartroubles delayed them even longer, no more than an hour after they’d finallyhit the road.

By seven, it wasobvious they weren’t going to arrive at any decent time. They stopped in at adiner, a leather booths and retro menus sort of place, with an actual jukeboxin the corner, and Clarke ordered for them both while Bellamy stepped outsideand called his sister to give her their latest ETA. She was, annoyingly, notsurprised. “I told you youwere nuts to try to drive up here in one day.“ He could tell by her voice that sheknew, without being able to see, exactly what faces he was making at his phone.“Getsomething to eat and get some sleep. Don’t do any more driving. I’ll see you tomorrow. Ilove you.”

He was definitely going to do some more driving.Another hour, even, and they’d have a great head start on tomorrow. He wasplanning to tell Clarke as much, but she cut him off as soon he slid back intohis seat.

“Look,” shesaid, poking at one of the giant meatballs on her plate. “I know you want toget as far as possible tonight. But I’m tired, you’re tired, it’s been a longday. Let’s just spend the night here.”

“Here in thediner?” Bellamy arched an eyebrow, pretending to be confused. “That’s an…interesting idea.”

Clarke rolled hereyes, gestured toward the window with her fork. “‘Here’ like in the motelnext door. I saw a vacancy sign. Do you want some of this garlic bread?”

The garlic bread wascrispy just one shade shyof burnt, and the taste stayed with him long after they settled the bill, drove down the street, andbooked the last room at the motel. He could still discern an echo of it, even,as they carried their bags inside, and it was all he would let himself think about—howmuch fucking garlic there was on that bread—as they stood staring at the single king-sizebed in the center of the room.

Staring it down forseveral long moments did not, magically, make it transform itself into two beds.

“Well.” Clarke lether bag drop down with a decisive thump. “Rock paper scissors for the floor?”

There must have beensomething more than fatigue and long-building stress in the expression he gaveher, something more like unadulterated disbelief, because she grinned andbumped her arm against his arm. “I’m kidding. It’s just one night, we can sharethe bed.”

Yeah. Just one night. Thelongest night of his life, probably.

He’s just about toturn over onto his other side, because he can’t spend any more time staring atthe back of Clarke’s head and wondering when this old gray fatigue will turninto sleepiness and then oblivion itself, when he hears a voice out of thedarkness—“Bellamy,are you awake?”—and he startles.

He hesitates a longmoment, uncertain if his mind is playing tricks on him. He’s lost all sense oftime; maybe he’s lost all sense of reality too. But as he waits for his vocalchords to gear themselves up again, Clarke’s body starts to move, like acreature rising from the deep, not turning toward him but uncurling,stretching, her arm sliding up under her pillow and her legs straightening out.Sea waves of them under the floral motel comforter. It’s a bit like watching aflower blooming.

“Yeah,” heanswers, finally. “Can’t sleep.”

“Mmmm.”She curls up again, a tighter ball this time. “I think I drifted off for abit. What time is it?”

“No idea. Pastone.” It was one the last time he looked at his phone, but it could betwo, or four, or just minutes before dawn, for all he knows.

Clarke hums againand then, with the same slow, careful movements, sea change movements,continent shifting movements, she turns over until she’s facing him. As shemoved, she looked so much larger than she is, and now, at rest again, she looksso much smaller. She smiles at him faintly. His eyes have adjusted so well tothe darkness that it’s not hard to make out the expression on her face: sleepyand curious and fond.

Bellamy feelshimself curling up, too, mimicking her.

He really loves thiswoman. He loves her and he’s known it for a long time, without voicing it,without daring to admit it to himself. He loves how sweet she looks, cozy andtired and private, alone and warm under the blankets with him, and he loves that she isn’talways sweet. He loves that when they get to O’s place, she’ll be giving orderswithin about five seconds, that there is a more than even chance either he orOctavia will get into a fight with her before the day is out, that the fightwill be forgotten by the time they’re in the new house, surrounded by cardboardboxes and pizza boxes. He loves that Clarke will unpack the coffee maker first,her housewarming gift, and use it to make herself a cup after dinner. He lovesthat she’ll never apologize, nor ask for an apology.

He hates that he’sso taken with her that he can’t tell if he’s being clear-eyed or strikinglynaïve.

“What are youthinking about?” she asks. The words are pitched low but above a whisper, no one todisturb in the room except themselves. “Octavia?”

Yes. But not justher, so he shrugs. “What woke you up?”

“I don’t know. Weirddream, I think. But I can’t remember it.”

She has one handunder her head, under the pillow, and with the fingers of the other she picksat a random spot on the sheets between them, like she’s trying to pull out athread. They both watch her fingers.

“I had a dreamonce,” he tells her, resisting the urge to hold her hand, but letting his lienearby, just in case, “that I was lost in these tunnels, and when I found myway out, it was through a lake. I came up out of the water, and—I think it wasthe end of the world.” He hadn’t really thought of it like that, though, at thetime. The dream becomes clear only when he puts it into words and speaks themaloud.

Clarke stares backat him, straight-faced and thoughtful, her eyes shining. He thinks she must betaking this dream, this random scrap of his subconscious, very seriously, until a wide smile bloomsinexplicably across her face. “I have no idea what that means,” sheadmits. The words bubble up in a giggle, barely suppressed, and it isirredeemably adorable.

He’s so distractedby smiling back at her and admitting, “Neither do I, no idea,” that he barelynotices the way her fingers have crept across the space between them andstarted to play with his.

And then when hedoes notice, it’s all he can think about.

“Are youcold?” Clarke asks him, as his thumb starts to run a semi-circle acrossher skin. He’s not sure if seconds have passed, or minutes, or how many.

He flicks his eyesup, wondering if she’s joking. Under the blankets, their body heat combines andmultiplies, feeds off itself; if anything, he’s a little too stuffy and warm,breathing in the recycled air of generation after generation of strangers. Butshe’s watching him, earnest and expectant, so he shrugs, and lies, “A little.”

Her eyes glint, andshe smiles like this is precisely her scheme. As swiftly as if the revelationwere choreographed, Bellamy understands. He drops her hand and opens his arms.

Clarke turns andslides back against him, until she’s snuggled close and his arm is around herwaist and she’s holding his hand again, against the softness of her stomach.Her hair is in his face. It will be annoying soon but right now when hebreathes in it is the soft citrus of an orange field that fills his senses andall he wants is to bury his nose against her neck. This is not a friendlyembrace. It takes all his strength to keep lying to himself, that he could bethis close with any of his other friends.

At first, Clarkeshifts a little, rearranges herself, rearranges them, but then her movementsbecome more infrequent, until they are both all but still in the quiet middle of the night.

A car passes outsideon the main road: the swish of tires on pavement, a passing beam of lightsliding in around the edges of the curtains.

Bellamy still feelsfar from sleep, too attuned to every moment and too intent on memorizing thisfeeling, so he can play it back to himself later, and wonder at it, but hefigures that Clarke has drifted off again by now. Still he’s not surprised, this time,to hear her voice lilting softly up to him again: “I’m sorry Inever…said anything about it…that time at my place.”

Rarely has he heardher sound either so apologetic, or so confused. Like she can’t find the words;like, if he could see her face, she might be blushing. But he doesn’t ask forclarification, because of course he knows exactly what she means. He’s beenplaying the kiss over again too. The in and out of her lungs as he holds herclose reminds him of the way her chest heaved against his after they brokeapart, drawing in deep breaths of air. The soft riot of her hair in his facebrings back the sensation of pushing a few strands behind her ear, a gesture tofill the pause before speaking, and because he so wanted to see her face andher eyes and her kiss-red lips.

“I didn’t bringit up either,” he answers.

“I just don’twant you to think it’s…” She takes in a deep breath and lets it outslowly. He feels it; he hears it. “I didn’t regret it. I justdidn’t…know what it meant.”

What it meant. Hearing the words aloudsnaps a clear, ringing realization intoplace, and he can’t help but laugh. It’s suddenly funny, how relentlessly theyhave both overthought such a simple thing.

“I think it meant weboth wanted to kiss each other,” he says.

She doesn’t answerright away, and he can’t see her face to know if she feels this too, thissudden lifting of uncertainty, this easy fearlessness. He can feel her shifting in hisarms, though, turning slowly to look back at him. When she does, his breathcatches and the smile fades slowly from his face.

“I still wantto kiss you,” she says. Her voice is a whisper this time, and her nose isso close to his nose, they’re almost touching.

He doesn’t let himselfthink.

He just leans in, until hislips slide gently over her lips.

Clarke’s fingertipssettle gently against his cheek, holding him steady, touching him as carefullyas if he were glass. He wraps his arms around her—less gently. He holds herclose like he never wants to let go. They kick the blanket almost down to theirfeet and he presses her back against the pillows and somewhere in another room,an air conditioner kicks on, a summer hum forming a background to their ownuneven, desperate breaths.

Frantic kisses andintimacy in an anonymous room: the sort of thing people do and don’t evermention again, after. But this time won’t be another secret they keep hiddenunderneath their tongues. He’s not worried. They break apart sometimes betweenmarathon tongue twisters and Clarke smiles up at him, secret and soft, happy and sure, and he knowsthere’s no reason to be worried.

The next day, theywake up early and get coffee and muffins from the motel breakfast table, throwtheir bags in the back of the car, and hit the road. Bellamy drives, and Clarketexts Octavia to tell her they’re on their way. After she sets aside her phone,she lets her hand rest on his leg, casual and easy, like it’s nothing. Likeit’s an old habit. Already it feels like it is.

They have threehours of driving ahead of them and still so much to discuss, and Bellamy can’twait to say it all.

#bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #bffnet #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #the 100 #modern 100 #mine #my writing #answers #anonymous #i'm still a little eh about certain parts of this? but i'm also ready to let it go so #hope you see this anon

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