#but really i swear in every art he’s always gazing at him so fondly like!!!

[dreamingthroughwords]

no matter what official art it is donghua or audio drama or anything hua cheng is ALWAYS looking at xie lian like we get it my guy he’s your entire world we know you look at him like he hung the stars and moon and is your entire world and yeah he is we get it. relax a bit

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 18

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 18: Spiders, Demons, and People, Oh My!

“Just one more hour-”

“No, I’m putting my foot down you workaholic, you are shutting down and enjoying this festival with the rest of us,” Tang firmly said with arms crossed.

“But-”

“No.”

“It just-”

“Nope.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Love you too, but no.”

“Just give it up Pigsy, you know he’s not gonna budge,” Macaque called out as Wukong, in his human disguise snickered beside him.

“Shut it,” he barked back.

Tang decided to pull out the big guns as he clasped his hands together and said with wide eyes “If you don’t get your ass out of there and enjoy the festival, I will make sure you sleep on the couch for a week.”

“…fine!” He threw up his hands as everyone else cheered.

“Took you guys long enough,” Mei snorted.

“Just remember kids, threatening the couch is always a good way to get your partner in control,” the historian said with a wink.

“Don’t tell them that!” The pig demon shouted out.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have opened on a holiday!”

“I can’t help it!”

“I know you can’t sweetheart, but this is why I’m here to remind you,” he said as he gave a kiss to his partner when he closed down.

“Awww, aren’t you both sweet,” Wukong teased.

“Can it!” Pigsy embarrassedly yelled.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” he grinned to Wukong. No one besides those that already met him, knew that the monkey in disguise was the Monkey King and not just some dude called Wukong. Cause if they did, then the whole world would have shortly known by Tang fanboy screeches.

“Now that Pigsy has finally given in,” MK grinned as he ducked a rolling pin to the head, “we can finally meet up with everyone else!” He cheered as his bright purple sash, which was tied securely around his bright red changshan pants, flew behind him as Mei, who wore something similar to MK, but with a green dragon art wrapped around her shirt, charged after him.

“Man they sure are excited,” Sandy chuckled as Tang and Pigsy also followed the two children.

“Is he always like that,” Wukong asked as both monkeys slowly trailed behind them, easily knowing where the group was at all times.

“In a nutshell, this isn’t even his first time trying to work on Lunar New Year,” the other simian commented.

“I can scarcely believe it,” he muttered under his breath, not that it stopped the black monkey from hearing, as he forced himself out of his memories. “Also, have I mentioned that I’m loving the hairdo.” He smirked as he grabbed one of the two long strands from the monkey twin buns he was sporting.

“Blame Emerald, she wanted the both of us to match for some reason,” he rolled his eyes as he adjusted his bright red qipao adorned with flowers.

“I certainly will,” he teased. He was in a changshan as well, but in bright yellow that had clouds littered all around the front and he too had a sash tied around his waist, but in red. “Thanks for letting me borrow your sash by the way.”

“You would think that in your multitudes of outfits, you would have a red sash somewhere tucked in there. It’s even your favorite color,” he fondly huffed.

“I’m just as surprised as you are, I could have sworn I had one,” he lied with a smile on his face. Of course, he has red sashes, that’s his signature look, but he’s not gonna say that he wanted a piece of his friend’s clothing outright.

“Sure,” he rolled his eyes. “Well, we better catch up to them before they blow up the fireworks again.”

“Fireworks? You mean the one used during the parade?”

“Nope, I mean the ones they accidentally cause sometimes when they’re bored together,” he deadpanned as Wukong started to burst out laughing. “Not funny dumbass, there’s a reason there are now fire extinguishers at every other street lamp this time around.” He began to pick up the pace as he jumped onto a rooftop.

“Now I really have to know the full story!” He quaffed as he followed right behind.

“Not from me you're not, I swear I still have myokymia every time I think about it.”

“Man, I had almost forgotten just how good food stalls are,” Wukong said with his face stuffed with buns.

“Rethinking the shut in life,” Mac joked as he bounced the youngest of Yanyu siblings, Yuzu, in his arms.

“Oh yeah,” he eagerly nodded.

“We’ll just sit here and stuff your face, I need to hand Yu Yu back to one of her siblings,” he said as he went over to the group.

And that is precisely what he did as he continued his eating as he gazed upon the crowd of people and demons all enjoying the festival. He could see children running all around as they waved their puppet zodiac animals in the air, some couples were holding close to each other as they ventured from stall to stall, he could even see some mother, father, or guardian holding their child on their shoulders to get a better look.

“I should have come out here sooner,” he mused as he fiddled with the skewer stick in his mouth. “Really is nice out.”

“It really is, especially when the fireworks start,” he stopped when Mei finally announced her presence and sat next to him. He knew she was there and watching him, but he decided it was best if she made the first move.

“Well, how do you do on this fine night, little Miss. Stalker,” though that doesn’t mean he won’t still tease the hell out of her. He may be wary of her, but she is still vastly a child compared to him.

“Could be better, but since you're here I’ll guess I’ll settle,” she shot back and sat next to him.

“Ha, I could almost laugh, moon cake?” He held out a tray filled with mooncakes to the girl, who nodded in thanks as she took one. “They’re not as good as Moonshine, but they are pretty good.”

“The only cooks that can ever rival Pops is the chef that cooked for me when I was young and Pigsy.”

“If you say so,” he shrugged as he finished off the tray. “So what brings you around here.”

“Other than the festival?”

“Oh, that was a given, I mean here, with me as of this moment in time. I thought you still didn’t like me.”

“Still don’t,” she automatically said, “buttttt not as much as before.”

This made Wukong pause in his snacking as he looked towards Mei, “Oh? What changed? Was it witnessing my badassery? Beholding my awesomeness in all its glory? Or was it-”

“None of the above,” she promptly stopped him before he could get any more cringier, “You make Pops happy.”

“Oh,” he has to say that he was both not surprised, but still taken aback by her comment. “That's it?”

“Well, and you have stuck by his side when that creepy ass fucker showed up, so bonus points for that.”

“You should have seen Dad's face when you went absolute ham on his ass,” MK interjected as he latched onto Mei's back. “When he wasn’t all disgusted with the creep from hell, he was grinning the entire time. Especially when you landed those blows on him.”

“He was,” he couldn't help but perk up.

“Ugh, you both have it so bad for each other,” Mei said as MK nodded.

“What?!” He nervously said as he shot a look towards Macaque, who was talking to both Sandy and Yanyu, “I don’t have a-”

“You always try to go near him and cuddle a lot of time, all the affectionate nicknames, the goo goo eyes, jealousy towards Shun and your quick deflection of any mention of Dad boyfriend, stealing Dad clothing even though you had some of your own, I can go all day,” MK smirked as he listed off all the obvious ways the Sage monkey had a crush on the Doctor monkey.

“Don’t lie to us, it's so obvious,” Mei shared the same look.

It looked for a second that Wukong was going to rebuttal, but he sighed in defeat. “Is it really that obvious?”

“To everyone but Dad,” he chuckled and patted the monkey on the back.

“Greeatttt,” he groaned and put his face in his hands. “That’s just peachy.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t get too much grief over it, well at least not from us. I don’t know about the rest,” she shrugged.

“Really?” He peeks through the cracks of his hands.

“The two of us have been keeping an eye on you,” she gestured to both her and MK.

“MK, you too,” the Monkey King held a mock wounded look.

“Sorry, but I have to look out for dear ol Dad,” he scratched the back of his neck. “And to be fair, a part of me really didn’t want him to date anyone anytime soon after Shun and I didn’t know how the both of you would be like after the whole fight and everything.”

“Oh,” was all he could utter.

“But I can say that I don’t think I have ever seen Dad so happy than when he’s around you.”

“Now that’s a lie,” Wukong interjected, “You should see the way he lights up when he’s with you guys, his tail always swishes behind him when you're with him.”

“Ladies ladies, we’re all pretty,” Mei butted in before the two boys could go on to fight over the stupidest thing. “But at the end of the day, you make Pops happy so maybe you're not so bad and I guess you wouldn't be so bad as a partner.”

“It would definitely be weird,” MK couldn’t stop the images from intruding in his head.

“Thanks,” he couldn’t stop himself fondly rolling his eyes, but he paused when the implications hit him, “Wait? Did I just get your approval to court Macaque?”

“Court, who even says court these days?” The dragon successor says to herself.

“Red,” said the monkey's successor, “But yeah, you did. Though when it does happen, I’ll just let future me worry about that.”

“Thanks for the boost of confidence and approval, but those aren’t really necessary, I doubt Mac sees me as nothing more than a friend,” he gave a sad smile.

Both teenagers exchanged a look at the sheer stupidity of the monkey before MK sighed and stepped forward. “Well, I never thought I would be ever giving love advice to the Legendary Monkey King when mine is none existent.”

“Your Portay clone on the other hand is a huge flirt,” Mei called out.

“I still don’t know how that works!” He yelled back, he still can’t believe that his own clone would flirt with both of his crushes when he doesn’t even have the guts to say anything. He turned his attention back to the Monkey, “But what I can say is that you should tell him that you love him before it’s too late.”

“Kid, thank you for trying to encourage me, but I’m not going to do it,” he ruffled his child’s hair, “I don’t want to ruin what we managed to scrounge back together.”

“Dude, Pops still consider you his friend even after your big ass fight that went down in history,” Wukong’s eyes slightly widen at Mei’s words.

“Wha-”

“So, if you think that telling him would lead him to ditch you when not even physically fighting would? Then there is something seriously wrong with your head,” she bluntly finished.

The disguised monkey stayed quiet for a few more moments before grabbing both of their heads this time and fiercely ruffling it.

“Hey!”

“Not again! I just did it!”

“I’ll think about it,” he smiled down at both of them then scoped them in his arms as he walked towards Macaque. “Hey Moonlight! I saw this shooting game a few stalls back, I bet I can beat your ass on it!”

“Try me,” he smirked as he waved bye to the group and eyed the two squirming kids in his arms. “We’re they acting up?”

“Nah, just decided they needed a better view.”

“Your ass is not a better view!” Mei yelled out.

“Being upside down technically counts as a worse view,” MK shouted as well.

“What are you talking about it’s an amazing view!” He teased.

“No, it’s not!”

The black furred simian let out a laugh, “Keep them like this, Gods know it would be easier to keep an eye on them from doing anything stupid.”

“Aye Aye captain!” He mocks saluted as he held them steady and began to walk towards the stand together.

“Put us down!”

“Stop this is really humiliating!”

“Do you hear anything?”

“Nope, just little kids complaining.”

“We’re not kids!”

Everyone cheered as the parade was starting and they all gathered around in hopes to get a better look at all the different floats, with an extra cheer for their own zodiac.

“They sure are excited about the floats,” Wukong chuckled as he watched his student, Mei, and a bunch of other children stand on Sandy’s shoulder to get a better view.

“You should have seen the other year, they almost got onto the float,” he smiled as the two of them sat on a rooftop a little ways away.

“I can believe it…thanks for dragging my ass out here,” he slightly nudged him. “I really have forgotten just how amazing the festival is and spending time with people can be on this day.”

“Anytime Peaches, and if you want you can join us next year, though it won’t be in the city, but rather in the forest. We’ll be just eating round the table and lighting up lanterns with the whole forest, unfortunately not as exciting as the festival here,” he said.

“I would be more than happy to join in,” he instantly said. “I haven’t lit up a lantern in years and besides, anything with you guys is nothing less than fun.”

“Well I’ll make sure to let comet know to bring your ass around then,” he smirked as he looked up in time to see the first firework go off. At moments like these, he’s glad to have durable headphones, it was pure torture back then with ears like his.

“Yeah!” The disguised Monkey King stood up and cheered before sitting back down. “Fireworks are awesome no matter when.”

“I give it a 6/10, now lanterns on the other hand,” he said as he leaned against his friend.

“Don’t disrespect my lights like that,” he lightly shoved him before wrapping an arm around him and putting his head on his as the two of them watched the lights explode.

Everything was truly beautiful at this moment in time.

Unfortunately, the moment couldn’t last as the fireworks were cut short and before either one of them could comment on it, they heard screams and a voice that dominated.

“This is the Year of the Spiders!”

Neither monkey needed them to exchange looks before they both rushed to the scene and saw hundreds of robotic spiders spread all across, chasing and capturing people as they went.

“Shit Mind control!” Macaque cussed as he saw their eyes glow green when the spiders managed to snag someone.

“How in the fuck is the Spider Queen able to do that?!” Wukong muttered to himself as he already dropped his disguise and began to attack any spiders in his way.

“I don’t know, but I think something like that will have the answers,” he pointed to a large spider robot emerging from the ground. “At least Daiyu gonna have a real good time with this.”

“Damn, it’s like Bull King all over again.”

“I’m sorry what,” the black monkey blurted out. He heard the Bull became huge, but he thought it was an exaggeration, so he shook his head. “More on that later, I can already guess you're going to the spider robot of doom.”

“You know it,” he cracked his knuckles.

“You do that, I’ll try to find everyone else and destroy as many of these fuckers as I can,” he emphasized by breaking a few of the spiders on the humans and demons back. He summoned some clones and began to spread them out, “You better not get captured or mind controlled, I don’t feel like kicking your ass right now.”

“Trust me I won’t,” he cockily smirked as he summoned his cloud. “Be careful out there,” he yelled out as he flew off.

“I’m going to laugh in his face if he gets captured, now to find my kiddos and everyone else before I lose it” he muttered as his tail wrapped around the spider that tried to surprise attack him from behind and crushed it into pieces.

“Red!” Mei and MK rushed over to the fallen demon who had crashed land on their ship.

“That was a nasty fall you took there,” she continued as the both of them helped him up.

“What are you doing here?” MK asked once he was up.

“Escaping the Spider menace!” He hissed out to cover up the fact that his face was involuntarily heating up at his crushes arms holding him, “that Spider freak captured my father and she was going to do the same to me.”

“Shit she even captured the Bull King,” the Pig demon said.

“Yes, but luckily I know a way to cure the atrocious mind control that she had enslaved everyone in.”

“You do!” They all hopefully said.

“Yes, but I’ll need your help seeing that my own ride is currently,” he looked over towards the broken parts, “unavailable.”

“If it means saving them then count us in,” MK said determinately.

“But where are we going?” Sandy asked.

“The one place where we can only get the supplies,” he pointed upwards as everyone slowly realized what he meant.

“Space,” well almost everyone.

“No noodle brain! The Celestial Realm!” He loves him, but he can be a bit of an airhead at times.

“Fbiwbfowdjosbd The Celestial Realm! The home of heavenly deities and immortal beings!” Tang tried to go forward but was held back by his partner.

“Down Tang, down.”

“Yes,” he said unfazed, “so will you help me.”

They all exchanged looks with each other before MK stepped forward with a confident grin. “Guys, let’s help a demon steal from the Celestial Realm.”

“Macaque is so gonna laugh at me for this,” Wukong groaned as he tried to break free of the web. “So, so hard.”

“Seems there are things that even you can’t handle,” Spider Queen mocked as she stepped back into the room filled with tied up demons all being drained, some of them more tired than others.

“Can it little caterpillar!” Minsheng yelled out, they too were captured after they got surrounded. They're not as strong a fighter as everyone else, so it was needless to say they were hopelessly outgunned. “No one wants to hear you bitch! Seriously, I don’t know how Daiyu can even stand that voice!”

“You got that right!”

“I would rather die now than listen any longer!”

“Seriously just shut up!”

All the demons shouted out as they mouthed back to the Spider Queen.

“QUIET!” She yelled out in rage, “ Especially about that vulture. Lest you forget, you are all my prisoners now, you are nothing short of a battery for my darling. It’s best to remember that for the rest of your miserable lifespan.”

“I mean they're not wrong,” Wukong smirked, “You are getting really annoying.”

“I, unfortunately, can’t help but agree,” Bull King rolled his eyes at the supposed ‘Queen’ rage. “Your voice is grating enough that I wish to rip my horns from my head and seal them in my ears, but I know it wouldn’t be enough.”

“Why I outta-”

“And besides, you do know that this is not gonna work right?” Minsheng said.

“Now what are you blabbering on about now?” The spider demon was getting sick of this backtalk from these whelps.

“This plan, yeah it’s not gonna work.”

“Oh, now why is that? I suppose you mean of Monkey King protege and their needless efforts,” she smirked as she crawled up to him and leaned in close. “Well, I can assure you that those children are not prepared for my little spiders that are close behind ready to strike when they're down.” She backed up with that same malevolent smirk and was about to turn away when he spoke once more.

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about them.”

“What?” She turned back around, “Then who in the hell are you referring to?”

BOOOM! BOOOOM! BOOOOM!

A series of crashes and explosions all happened simultaneously from the outside as it only subsided for a mere moment before continuing once more.

BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOOOOM!!

“What in the hell!” She cried out as she caught herself on the wall.

“That, that is who I am talking about,” the rabbit demon said as the spider raced towards the monitor. She pulls up the screen to see a sight that even frightens some of the captured demons. Because there on center screen was a tall malevolent violent monkey with eyes that glow bright purple as it took down some of the larger spiders that have sprouted out. But what they all noticed is that the titanic demon looked pissed as he screamed.

“WHERE THE HELL ARE MY KIDS!”

“What the sweet hell is that!?” She screeched out at the sight.

“Congratulations! You have completely pissed off one enraged papa!” Minsheng smiled at her horror. “Now he will happily introduce you to your execution if you don’t do as he says.”

“What?!”

“Hah, not even I would trifle so lightly when it comes to the Six Eared demon and his claims,” the Bull King laughed loudly at her foolish actions.

Some of the demons were even nodding in agreement.

“You're telling me.”

“Even we know not to fuck with him.”

“Oof, you're really gonna get it now,” Yin laughed.

“Better hope you have some blessing saved up somewhere in that shriveled up place you got a soul,” Jin snorted, “cause you're gonna need it!”

Wukong was staring at the monstrous form of his crush in all of his crush with a slight blush and said with a happy sigh, “Oh you’re so fucking screwed now.”

“That’s Macaque!?” She shrieked as she turned and couldn’t help but give a silent gulp as each and every demon looked at her, whether they were exhausted or not, with a malicious grin.

“You're done Spider Bitch,” Minsheng gleefully said.

She didn’t say anything else as she scurried out of there and went to look for the little girl.

“Bye Bye little spider,” they called out as the door closed behind them leaving them with only the sound of mechanical parts churning and the sizzling noise of their energies being drained remaining.

“Of course you would be infatuated with the Six Eared doctor,” Bull King couldn’t help but sigh, breaking the silence.

“Oh come on, even you!” Wukong shouted back, thus putting the room in a burst of laughter as the demons, whether civilians, criminals, or anywhere in between, began to gossip like middle aged wives at the market when they spotted an old friend.

“Oooo, is that so?”

“Of course you would go after doc, he is quite the catch.”

“Tell me everything!”

“Spill the tea!”

“Now that is something I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“If you have lived as long as I have, you would have long guessed that this was a long time coming.”

“I’m surprised that it wasn’t sooner.”

“Please someone just kill me,” he groaned as the chattering just continued. “Death would be kinder at this point.”

“Sorry, but fresh out of deaths today,” Sheng laughed.

“And didn’t you get yourself like four times immortal?” Yin asked.

“Five, remember the Yama book situation,” Jin said.

“Oh right, I keep forgetting.”

“I regret that so much,” he groaned even louder, it didn’t help that even the Bull King was laughing at his misery. “So, so much.”

Somewhere high in the sky

“What the hell is that!” Pigsy pointed out the giant transparent demon.

They all looked in shock as Tang said, “Please don’t tell me that the Spider Queen made an ally!” He groaned.

While the three adults began to panic at the new situation that popped up, three people, two humans, and one demon smiled widely.

“DAD/POPS/UNCLE!” MK, Mei, and Red all yelled out as they witnessed the scene.

“SAY WHAT!” The three other adults spun towards them in shock.

“Wait,” Sandy squinted his eyes, “Now I may be getting old, but is that giant demon Macaque?”

“What/Excuse me,” both Pig and historian deadpanned.

“ It is! And he’s kicking butt!” MK cheered as the titan stomped on a hoard of spiders.

“Kick that spider ass!” Mei yelled out with a savage grin as the monkey tail threw a giant spider down and obliterated it.

“Of course this would be nothing less than what he can do,” Red smirked at the chaos that was firmly putting the wretched spiders in place.

If anyone was paying close attention, they would have seen both titan and monkey ears twitch. They didn’t move from their position, but a sigh of relief did emerge.

“Found em,” Ahmed asked after he crushed a spider in his jaw.

“Yeah, I don’t know how the fuck they got out of my radius of hearing so quickly, but I found them,” Macaque, who was puppeting his larger version, smiled.

“That’s one worry crossed off.”

“You're telling me, now all we have left is to finish off this shit,” the monkey growled as the lion kept a close watch on his back. While it wasn’t difficult to control his larger version for a short time frame, it was difficult trying to maintain both forms and making sure that there would be no excessive collateral damage. He may be angry, but even he doesn’t want to hurt any innocent people, so it was shortly decided before he began his shadow puppet that the lion would keep guard while the rest helped everyone else. He can even hear Daiyu manically laughing off in the background where there’s the most spiders and can hear the slaughtering of mechanical parts.

Back on the ship, the others were slowly freaking out.

“I thought he was a doctor?!” Tang exclaimed as he watched the monkey decimate the eight legged cretins.

“I thought so too!” Pigsy was just as confused as his partner.

“Dad was a fighter long before he was a doctor, he just doesn’t do it as often anymore. I mean he used to have sparred with the monkey king a lot,” the teenage boy explained.

“You mean to tell me this is him going easy?” The pig demon could feel his eye twitch.

“Yup!”

“I hate to see him at his peak,” the historian muttered, then he paused, “wait, he knows the monkey king?!”

“Uhhhhhh.” MK just realized what he had admitted and slowly began to back away.

“Oooo, you fucked up now,” Mei chortled while sporting a large grin.

It took a minute for it to fully sink in, but once it did, boy did Tang straighten up with his eyes blown wide as if he had just been electrocuted. “No way! No way! Is he the fucking Six Eared Macaque from the Journey to the west?!”

“Say what?!” Pigsy exclaimed.

“Maybe?!”

“Is that a question or an answer!” Tang demanded as he stalked closer to him.

“Yes!” He was officially freaked out.

“Oh this is funny,” Red grinned.

“Right,” Mei happily agreed.

“Are you saying that he is the legendary deity that managed to help so many lives, but he is also the enemy of the great monkey king and I am just now learning that I’ve been hanging out with that same legend and dneirbowdubeodosbsudbksd!” The book loving man's mind has been blown as his words have long passed him.

“Great, you broke my partner.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Wait are you just now figuring that out,” Sandy blinked, “I thought it was obvious.”

“You knew!” Everyone on the ship snapped towards the giant in shock.

“Yes? It’s not like he was trying to hide it,” he pointed out.

“He really wasn’t,” the biker woman was on the floor dying of laughter at that.

“Hey look scary, creepy, too many legged spiders in need of decimating right ahead!” MK diverted the attention back to the city ahead. “Talk later!

“Oh ho ho, believe me, there will be many, many talks ahead,” Tang hissed and stomped his way to the front of the ship.

“Welp that’s going to be Dad's problem right there,” he said.

“Gonna pin the blame on dear old Pops,” Mei snorted.

“Yup! This is payback for the needless anxiety this caused me,” the monkey's successor eye twitch.

“HA!”

She may be outnumbered and her pawns may have been taken out, but she will not back down after all.

“All of you together can’t beat me! I am the Queen of Spiders!” Spider Queen declared in hysteria as she took a step forward towards the monkey brat.

“Oh yeah,” they all turned to see the Monkey King casually walking down the wall as he picked up the staff and with a spin he declared, “Well I’m the King,” and with that statement, he freed his student.

He bent down and helped pick him back up with a sheepish grin, “Well you already know I’m not too hot on some things, apparently spiders are one of them too.” Then they all stood tall against the Spider Queen as if daring her to try to make the next move.

“Well if I can’t have this world, then no one can!” She cried out as she slung herself up to the Spider mech. l and started it up once more as the ground began to violently shake. “I’ll level this whole city!”

Right when she did that though, both student and mentor jumped up in the air.

“It’s now or never!” Wukong cried out as MK grabbed hold of the staff.

“Right!” The two began to spin and spin and spin even faster until they were a golden pinwheel of light.

“Here comes Monkey Kid!” Right after that last work, Wukong flung MK forward as the student shouted out facing the enemy head on and the proud mentor whispered as he watched his kid take that final strike.

The machine broke as everything shut down at that moment in, but before MK could feel proud, he had noticed that he was currently free falling.

“Shit!” He yelled out and quickly looked around to find any sort of platform he could get a hold of.

“I got you!” He felt his collar then his body quickly stop free falling as quickly as Wukong in bird form was holding him up.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite fast enough to fly far away enough from the incoming explosion in his small form, but luckily there was another as he quickly grabbed the both of them in his hands and jumped far away enough. Just in time as everything explodes.

BOOOOOM!

The machine shattered in millions of parts that it was spread far and wide throughout the city, finally bringing the Spider Queen's short, but deadly, reign to an end.

“Whew, thanks-DAD!” MK exclaimed as he finally noticed that he was in the hands of his father's titan form.

“Great catch Moonbeam!” Wukong beamed up when he got out of bird form.

The Monkey titan didn’t say a word as examined their bruised, injured, and bartered form and with a worried purr, he gently stood up and began to walk back to the group with them still cradled in his hands.

“Anddd I don’t think he is letting us go any time soon,” the student said as he slumped down, only to wince at his bruises.

“Nope,” Monkey King replied as he tried to relax, but both the memories and the wounds made it very hard to do so, it also didn’t help that there was a familiar smell in the air.

Their form eventually made its way to the rest of the group as they all stared up at the lumbering giant that towered over them all.

“I feel like I should be more frightened,” Tang mused as he stared up at the ominous titan with a glowing eye staring back at them.

“I don’t blame you,” Pigsy huffed as he had to stop him from instinctively standing in front of the group, even though the giant monkey was an ally.

“Just be glad he’s on our side,” Sandy smiled up.

“You're telling me,” Red nodded as he rubbed his hands from stopping the explosion alongside his father.

Bull King said nothing as he stared up at the titan.

“Hey guys!” MK shouted as he waved at them.

“Liking the view from up there!” Mei shouted back.

“It’s pretty nice! I never knew laying down on a giant monkey’s hand would feel good until now!”

“Maybe I’ll give you a ride on my war form then,” Wukong joked as he climbed up and sat on the titan's shoulder.

“Wait what?” Though he wasn’t able to ask anymore as the violent hand slowly came down and in front of the group.

“A ride! Count me in!” The dragon girl hopped in first as Sandy followed close behind.

“This might as well happen,” the pig demon sighed as he supported his partner's weight on him and sat down next to the others. But that didn't stop Tang from going starry eyed over the Monkey King and Macaque titan form.

“I’m not going,” Bull King growled when the hand still stood in front of both him and his son.

Red promptly halted in his step when he said that and looked almost longingly to his friends as he put his foot down.

The Bull demon saw his heir's morose expression and only took a moment before he sighed, “You may go if you wish…son.”

The Bull prince's eyes sparkled at his words and he lit up with glee as he rushed over to the rest of the group, getting one arm hugs from both his friends. Yet, the hand still hasn’t ascended.

“Nice teeth,” Mei commented as the Prince settled down and she noticed her other friend teeth.

“Huh?” MK saw her wordlessly take out her phone and show him his new sharpen teeth, his eyes sparkled with glee. “This is so cool! Hey Red, we match!”

“Indeed we do,” he gave a slight grin, “but mine are much more deadlier.”

“Give me a couple days to get used to this and we can find out,” he grinned back.

Before Red could shoot back a growl was heard.

“I said, I’m not going,” he emphasized his words and glared at the giant.

Giant Macaque only raised his brow as he used his free hand to pluck the Bull King firmly, but gently held him as he continued his way.

“Unhand me you insufferable cretin!” He yelled out as he tried to break free, but with him still being wounded and drained of his energy, the struggle was barely even noticeable.

“And you say I’m headstrong,” Monkey King snorted at the demon struggles.

“Oh I am so keeping this,” Mei smirked as she took so many photos.

“Send me that,” Pigsy and MK said.

“Will do!”

They were only put down when they finally reached their destination, which was Pigsy Noodle shop, and standing in front of the doors was a lion supporting a tired looking monkey.

“Thank fuck you all are alright,” he sighed as he released the titan puppet when everyone was off and he should probably be glad that Ahmed was supporting his sorry ass as he would have fallen straight down from the abrupt disperse of energy.

“Are you okay,” Wukong worriedly asked as he noticed his moon tired form and how the lion was helping him.

“Will be, but for now everyone gets your sorry asses inside so I can patch you up,” he pointed to some of the clones inside already holding materials in hand.

“I’ll help-” MK began to say, only to be stopped by his stare “-after I heal up,” he quickly added.

“Nice save,” Mei whispered as both of them and Red went inside.

“You and I are gonna have a long talk Mr. Six Eared Macaque,” Tang almost growled.

“Wasn’t really trying to hide it,” he smirked as the historian raised both his hands in exasperation.

“And that’s what’s pissing me off, ‘it came along the way,’ you weren’t even trying,” he huffed as he marched inside, but not before giving a stink eye to the lion. “And I bet you knew as well.”

“Guilty as charged,” he had to hold back his laughter as his friend gave another strangled yell.

“You're gonna have one hell of a lecture from him,” Pigsy smirked as he nudged the monkey.

“I have already accepted my fate,” he shrugged.

“Good call, also don’t really care about your past and whatnot, you have already shown me that you're a pretty decent demon no matter what history may say.”

“Thanks,” he gave a small smile.

The pig demon patted his shoulder and went inside as well. Macaque looked towards the blue giant who just smiled.

“I already knew.”

“And this is what makes you the smart one,” he smirked as the therapist gave a hearty laugh.

“You need help,” Wukong cautiously asked once more as he stepped forward.

“I am not doing shit except letting my clones do the bandaging and healing, I need to sit my ass down,” he grumbled before giving a slight smile, “but thanks for worrying about me dumbass.”

“Always,” he smiled back.

“Now go sit your ass inside before I make you,” he deadpanned.

“I mean I don’t really need it, you know I heal pretty-”

“I can easily tell that both you and Bull along over there had your energy drained,” Monkey King paled.

“Ah…so you know.”

“Oh I know,” he tail swished angrily behind him, “and I also know just how fucking dangerous energy transfers are when they’re not done properly! And I already know that it wasn’t really Spider Queen's main concern now is it?”

“Ummm,” he nervously hummed.

“Now, get your ass in there or else,” his eyes flickered.

“Aye Aye!” He quickly walked in and escaped the eyes of doom.

“So it seems that there is more to the story,” Tang muttered as he watched the interactions as a salve got put on his leg. “It seems that the two immortal monkeys aren’t enemies.”

“Oh there is a lot more,” MK wished he could rub his forehead, but his hands were currently occupied by the clone wrapping his hand. “So much more.”

No one could say anything else before they heard the Demon Bull speak.

“I’m not going in,” Bull King huffed, “I’m not so fragile that I need to worry about such items.”

“You know what no,” Bull demon raised his eyebrow at the doctor's tone. “I’m not even gonna argue with you, your ass is going in there and you are going to sit down and you are going to get checked over.”

“You dare speak to me like that!”

“Frankly I don’t care!” He barked out as he broke free of Ahmed’s hold and marched up to the larger demon. “I have long since run out of fucks to give and I simply don’t fucking care! I am already spread thin with clones all around making medicine, helping out at the hospital, checking for survivors, and other shit! I was spread thin when I made my Puppet Titan to obliterate the fucking spiders. I am so spread thin that even my own self control is waning as we fucking speak that it’s taking all in me not to just make your stupid ass go unconscious, just so I won’t have to fucking hear you! So. Go. In. The. Noodles. Shop!”

“You don’t have the power to stop me,” he growled and took a step forward, not even acknowledging the lion demon piercing eyes nor the monkey Sage's own ominous stare.

“If you don’t get your ass inside I will call Queen Iron Fan and tell her about your stupidity about your health,” he bluntly stated.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he took a step back in fear.

“Try me bitch.”

“…fine,” he let out a final huff and lumbered inside.

Mei whistled as the clone was getting some derbies out of her back, “Dannnggg, just one word of the mother and he just comes.”

“Mother does worry about our safety when she’s gone,” Red nodded.

“For good reason.”

“Okay!” Macaque said loudly as he plopped himself right next to Wukong, “While you guys are getting bandaged, how about you all tell me what the hell happened both inside the ship and how the hell did you get that antidote because I know the smell of immortal peaches from a mile away and that antidote had that in spades.”

“So that’s why the whole city smells like that,” the brown furred monkey eyes widened, “I thought I was going crazy.

“What is the point in that?” Bull King questioningly asked.

“Well, I thought that it would be better if we all figured out how not only she managed to get her hands on mind control potion that potent, but how almost all the demons, including you two, one of the strongest ones in the world, got captured by the Spider Queen.” He emphasized, it literally makes no sense how she was able to do that. Sure she may be strong with access to her minions that do her dirty work at times, but she’s not that strong to manage to take down so many villains, and she doesn’t have the connections to find a potion of that kind of caliber.”

“That is a fair point,” the Bull demon reluctantly agreed.

“Great! Now talk.”

“She caught the staff?” MK blurted out as he popped up from Mei's shoulder.

“I know! Caught me by surprise too,” Wukong huffed at his student surprise.

“To be fair, Lady Iron Fan did the same with me, but she had some sort of metal glove.”

“But not with pure energy,” Red leaned back into Mei side, “it took me countless centuries to find all the supplies to make that glove and the Spider Queen only used her energy, something is not adding up.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” she nodded as she subtly brought her two crushes, which she will happily keep to herself until both of them are comfortable, back to her. She could very much appreciate the fact that they both had very warm and comfortable bodies that she will happily take advantage of.

“So that’s where Minsheng was,” Ahmed hummed, “the others were worried about them.”

“He really did tell her off, but I saw him escape with the rest after they broke free,” the monkey explained.

“That’s one worry off then.”

“Son, how did you know the incantation and the symbol to enter the Celestial Realm?” Bull King asked when they got to the part where they were about to enter the realm.

“Umm well you see,” he nervously chuckled, “there are so many ways you can get inside the realm other than the main entrance and it’s not like it was hard to actually find another way once you know what the main one looks like. But don’t worry, I haven’t stepped foot inside the realm until today, so they shouldn’t know that it was me who entered!”

“To be honest I never knew that there were other ways you can get inside,” Wukong admitted, “Nice job.”

“Indeed, show me how exactly you managed this feat when we get home,” the giant Bull said. It is no easy task to accomplish something that no one else has done before, he didn’t acknowledge the pit of warm pride he felt.

“Yes father!” He excitedly said, not noticing that his two friends were eyeing the Bull King with disdain.

“Wait hold up, how the hell did you manage to sneak into the Celestial Realm almost undetected?” He questioned when his son finished telling them how they escaped the holy realm.

“Well there was like nobody there, the only real problem we encountered was the spiders, two lion statues that came to life, and perhaps my crippling anxiety,” he shrugged.

“Well get to that last bit later, but what do you mean no one?! You went to the Heavenly Orchard, Lao Tzu alchemy lab, the fucking Jade Emperor Throne Room! What the hell did you mean no one was there?!” His eyes twitch as he gets shrugs from almost everyone, he says almost as now Red son is realizing that what he said is true and is slightly paling at what that could mean. Even Wukong and Bull King are looking at the group in absolute confusion.

“That does raise a concerning question,” BK rumbled. “The Celestial Realm is never without the deities inside, especially the Jade Emperor himself. So if all the deities were gone on the same day then there must have been a deadly matter that needed to be taken care of…but everyone gone? That still makes no sense.”

“You're telling me, it wasn’t even that easy for me to cause havoc when I was up there. I had to disguise myself as so many people just to make it out to the courtyard,” Wukong nodded.

“It just doesn’t make sense on why-” he stopped himself as he looked towards the other monkey and then his son and a thought occurred. “No, that couldn’t be, hey flicker do they still have that Spirit detecting thing for when you enter the realm.”

“Indeed they still do,” he faces palmed as he completely had forgotten that they had been specially made after people, deities, and demons tried to break their way into the realm one too many times.

Macaque couldn’t stop his smile from growing as he finally realized what happened and he burst out into laughter. “No way! No fucking way! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“Huh?” Everyone echoed as they watch the monkey burst out almost out of nowhere.

“Umm Dad?” He tried to call out, but he was too busy laughing.

“Pops? You good?” She tried, absolutely nothing in reply.

“Mango, moonlight, my other half,” Wukong grabbed him by the shoulder, which did make him pause, but still was sporting a wide grin. “What the hell did you figure out?”

“Srk, okay holy shit this is just way too funny,” he choked out and continued. “The reason why no one was there was because they sensed MK spirit energy and the staff, both of which had been imbued with your energy. I mean, I know that after sensing your energy was coiled around mine a few weeks ago, they did not want a second round with Wukong in any way shape, or form, especially his successor, so they just fucked off and left!”

Dead silence overtook the small restaurant as everyone's eyes slowly turned to the Monkey Sage, who was sporting both a cheeky and a sheepish grin.

“I feel like I should probably apologize to them one day.”

“The sad thing is that it sounds about right,” Red sighed. While he doesn't visit the celestial realm, he knows enough to know that many deities, including the Jade Emperor, would rather just up and leave than deal with Sun Wukong after what he last did no matter how many centuries may have passed. He does have to admit that out of everything he did, this may have been one of his biggest feats yet. “What is my life right now?”

“Let’s just continue,” Pigsy said as he was holding back his partner from asking so many questions.

“Evil laughter?”

“Shut up.”

“It was fun!”

“And highly entertaining.”

“Shut up!”

“And that’s all of it,” MK finished off.

“Crazy as usual, but that still doesn’t explain how she was able to do what she did,” he leaned back. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Wukong stiffen, but he kept that to himself. He will get it out of that monkey when they're alone.

“I heard the whispers again,” everyone's eyes whipped towards Bull King, but only Red son and Macaque knew what he was talking about.

“You mean the same ones that controlled you back then,” the doctor hissed out.

“Indeed.”

“You met Lady Bone Demon?!” Wukong blurted out but immediately regretted that as everyone's eyes were locked on him.

“You know that vile cretin!” Bull King growled.

“Wait Bone Demon! As in the same one you met in the Journey to the West! That one!” Tang wanted to lean forward, but both Pigsy and Sandy were holding him back.

Wukong said nothing as he gripped his fists under the table.

“Monkey King?” MK worriedly asked at the monkey's still expression.

“Sunbeam,” the monkey blinked at his friend's hand on his and looked up to see his concerned look, “what happened?”

“…okay,” he entwined his finger with his and looked at the group. “I met her on the ship.” He then began to explain his experience with the demon on the ship and the restaurant was silent as he talked.

“So,” Macaque broke the silence, “it seems that we were right on the idea that this was no ordinary spirit.”

“You’ve been investigating this?!” Wukong asked as everyone barring the Bull family and Ahmed looked in shock.

“Of course I have, Bull King got possessed and no one found that at all suspicious? I mean that’s why Queen Iron Fan is currently not even in the city right now, she is meeting some people over some enchanted artifacts and spells that will help. But now that we know who exactly we're dealing with, I think we can narrow that down by a lot. So, you’ll update her,” he said towards the Bull family.

“Already doing so,” Red’s son said as his eyes were glowing red.

“Good, now anything else you tell us?” He looked back to his dumbstruck friend.

“Just that I…encountered her a few times before and that there was a reason she was buried so deep underground,” he sighed as he rubbed his thumb on the black fur. “What she wants the most is to make herself known to the world and she wants to accomplish this by conquering the world, so she’ll be after me first and my powers.”

“And we will be ready,” MK determinedly said. “We know that she is alive and that she is probably planning something, but whatever it is, we'll be one step ahead of her.”

“You got that right, I mean who would ever expect this,” she gestured towards the room filled with people, demons, and immortals, “Wukong lives in isolation so in no way will he be interacting with mortals, supposed enemies with Pops and Bull family.”

“That part is still true,” Bull King grumbled.

“Mostly, but even then you can tolerate him and that is what she won’t be expecting!”

“But there still is the problem that we don’t know what she is planning after her plan failed,” Tang pointed out.

“Was it her plan at all?” They all turned to face Pigsy.

“What do you mean?” MK asked.

“Well, it just seems that with the whole spider theme going on, it was more of the Spider Queen plan and the Bone chick tagging along at the end, you know, like that one person in a group project. I always hated that guy, stupid Hans,” he growled.

“You…do make a point,” Red eyes flickered once he finished his talk. “And mother also said that she will be going to the highlands next after she’s finished dealing with the…unruly elves.”

“That’s one way to say it,” Bull King nodded.

“But since the plan with the Spider Queen failed, where would she go next?” Mei asked.

“We’ll hold on,” everyone looked to Sandy now as the giant looked at Wukong and Bull King, “You said that she was following the Spider Queen, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Indeed.”

“Well I may have only met the Spider Queen once, but it’s easily recognizable that she has a superiority complex that hinges more towards the self importance side, and judging by how you describe the Bone demon, she is very tactile and manipulative to use this to her advantage. So we already know it was Spider Queen's plan first, but it was the Bone demon who most likely approached her first as you said that the Queen was more hostile towards the other. But, even when the plan failed, I think that she will still stick with the Spider Queen as she is not only one of the strongest in the city, but maybe has the resources she needs at the moment,” he finished and took a sip of his tea.

“Holy shit,” Mei whispered out as MK nodded.

“Knew you were smart, but man you were hiding it in their big guy,” Pigsy smirked.

“Oh well just a guess based on what I know about their personality and actions,” he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“A well educated one it is,” Bull King said, “What is your profession?”

“I’m a therapist.”

“That makes sense,” he nodded.

“But for now, how about we hold this off until tomorrow,” Ahmed said as he looked at everyone’s bandaged bodies and drooping eyes, “I think we all deserve some shut eye.”

“But-”

“Their invasion just failed and they won’t be staring back up any time soon,” he cut MK off, “this can wait until tomorrow, where our minds would be fresher and perhaps our bodies a little lighter.”

“Agreed,” Macaque nodded.

“…okay,” MK gave in.

“Good, now everyone upstairs,” most of them began to trudge back up, the doctor eyed the Bull family, “I assume you have the teleportation spell?”

“Yep, prepped and ready,” Red confirmed.

“Then have a safe trip back,” and with final goodbyes, the Bull family left the restaurant, and with a flash, they were gone. Macaque watched them leave and promptly grabbed hold of the back of Wukong collar “And where do you think you're going?”

“Back to the mountain?” He questioned.

“No you're not, you're staying here.”

“Look Mac I really don’t feel like talking more about her,” he sighed once he knew everyone else was gone.

“And that is fine, but you are not leaving my sight anytime soon, now come on,” he pulled him up, “there is a hoard of blankets and pillows calling our names. So just relax, you are safe.”

It didn’t impact the monkey until he felt the warm coil of violet energy gently brush against his vigilant golden aura, did he finally settled down, and his nerves slowly relaxed and the next thing he knows is he is sitting on the rooftop surrounded by blankets and pillows and he is currently snuggled on Macaque shoulder as he hums softly and felt his soft hands groom his fur.

“Sleep Sunshine, we can deal with it all tomorrow,” he whispered and tucked him further underneath his chin.

He wished he could thank him for doing this, for watching over him during his blackout, for keeping him calm, but the words eluded him, and instead, he cuddled further into the hold. He stiffed when he heard soft footsteps approach, but relaxed at the familiar energy of both of his kids approaching him.

“Mind if we join,” MK asked as he took in the sight.

“Would you be up for that Sunspot?” Mac looked down.

Wukong didn’t say anything once more and just wordlessly nodded.

“Alright, you both can join, but right to bed.” He firmly told them both.

“Oh don’t worry, even my bones feel tired,” Mei said as she cuddled next to the black furred monkey and MK softly laid next to the brown furred simian.

Then there’s was silence once more as only the bustling from the streets could be heard as people reunited with each other once again, the whistle of winds, the steady breathing of the small group, and the soft humming of a six eared monkey lullabying them further and further into a deep sleep. And as Wukong listened, felt, and saw everything, only one thought was left as he closed his eyes for a long slumber.

He really loved his family.

As to why Mac didn’t get captured? Easy, he doesn’t have the same kind of cocky ego that both BK and Wukong shared. He actually likes to think before he acts.

Also, hey yeah remember how I said my longest chapter was like two chapters ago, welll I made a freakin new one and guess what? IT’S OVER 9000!! Like holy shit I need to sleep, but damn am I proud of how long I can make these XD

[moxfirefly]

Maybe kink prompt 43 that ends with kink prompt 37 with Michelangelo? 😈

Oh boy I swear that lad is the most susceptible for a situation like that. Let’s see how we make this work.

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Leonardo had often reprimanded him for staring because it could be considered rude.

For Mikey though he didn’t necessarily see it as a bad thing. He considered himself a visual person, Mikey simply just loved looking at things. He’d hang with Donnie in the lab because he liked watching his big brother create. He would spend countless hours in videos games merely exploring and finding every nook and cranny the game offered. That’s where art came into play, it was a means for him to loose himself visually, wether he looked it up or he created his own pieces.

Needless to say visual stimuli was always something he enjoyed in his more private moments.

He knows the staring becomes a problem when he meets you. Like April he harbors a crush on you, but then again Mikey had a crush on anything that breathed and he considered pretty. But secretly he considered you more than just pretty, he dare to use words like ‘beautiful’ and ‘brilliant’. Mikey tried to keep the staring at a minimal, quick glances that took in every detail he could in short burst.

He figured it was purely physical, the shape of you was something he’d find himself thinking about even after you left and took your wonderful scent with you. God, your scent, that had been a surprise. It reminded him of candy, sweetness that he was hooked on since the first time he took a bite when little. You radiated something he couldn’t fathom but he understood everything about at the same time.

The problem gets worse when he hugs you for the first time. Sure he had hugged plenty before, even April and that had been an experience, but this? The way you had pulled him tightly against your frame and the happy sigh that hit his neck. Mikey doesn’t remember a hug leaving him like he often felt after a good orgasm. Then, as if the situation needed to escalate even more, you had let go and look at him right in the eyes. He saw every swirl of color and he wanted those colors surrounded him. Your goodbye had been soft, words lingering against his skin like sweat.

Tonight he’s in his room, music playing softly in his headphones as he scrolls through Instagram. He had a ghost account he mostly used for gaming stuff and following some of his gaming friends. You and April had stayed over, crashing in the living room area. Mikey could smell that candy flavored scent all the way over to his room. He pictured you fast a sleep, your beautiful features in restful peace. Your lips parted, the curve of your body...

He groaned shutting his eyes. Even in his minds eye he still saw you, so perfect and soft.

So lovely and beautiful.

The sound of your voice, whenever your mouth took the shape of his name. Mikey looked at the curtain that provided some makeshift privacy, the empty bed above him (Raph had gotten his own space this year) His thumb moved across his phone.

He landed on your page.

He was instantly bombarded with all things you. There was a picture on there that he had memorized like some chant. It wasn’t even a scantily clad beach picture. It was so much more simple than that, it was you laughing. The lighting was just right, the crinkle in the corner of your eyes, that breathtaking smile. Mikey sighed, a heavy loving feeling spreading over his soul.

Man he was truly and utterly in love with you.

Fucking hell.

He left the phone on the bed, scooting up against the array of pillows. The song blended into one that naturally reminded him of you.

Mikey inhaled that scent, his hand rested on his plastron fingers drumming before they caressed a path down to the hem of his joggers. This had become almost ritualistic, he’d think you up or look at your pictures or simply have that scent stored in his memory. Mikey sighed as he pushed his hand into his pants, he felt himself drop out right into his awaiting hand.

He could live with this, if this is all he could have. Just thoughts and images and longing looks all having you at the center of it. He could live with the fantasy of what could be, especially when he grips his cock and slowly teases himself to madness. Every sense taken with you he hastily pushes his pants down, licked his palm and started pumping himself.

Mikey cursed under his breath, the image of you was doing this for him, lips at his jaw, body so close the heat of it felt real. With half lidded eyes he looks down at himself, the mess of precum staining his sheets and his hand. He spreads it, making his strokes so much more pleasing.

For whatever reason, he had looked to the side maybe his eyes wanted to fall on the picture still on his phone but instead he was met with a figure entering his room. He felt so close and figured his mind was playing tricks until he heard a familiar voice.

“Hey are you awa-oh” That caused him to come back to reality and throw the sheets on him. “Shit um...” Mikey couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact, he felt hot for all the opposite reasons. “It’s okay, I uh should’ve tapped on the curtain” You were blushing, this was certainly not how you planned to talking to him about something that had been circling you brain for months.

Mikey was about to make a joke when he noticed his phone was still open, and a picture of you was right between the two of you. Now he really wanted the floor to swallow him, you though remained pensive for a bit.

Much to his shock Mikey felt the bed dip, he saw you kneeling. “I’m going to ask you something and be honest, okay?” Impossibly blue eyes met your e/c, he nodded silently.

“Do you like me?” It was softly whispered.

“...Yeah, like a lot” Mikey fidgeted with his phone, locking it.

“Can I kiss you?” There was no hint of apprehension and that alone left Mikey speechless.

“You want to kiss me?” He asked, you nodded.

Then in something he could only think up in his most lustful musings he saw you crawl onto his lap. Before he could question if you sincerely wanted to do this your lips had found his.

Overwhelmingly beautiful, that’s the only way he could describe kissing you. Your hand cupped his cheek, the other behind his head. Mikey didn’t know why his hand landed at your forearm but the delicateness of that part gutted him. You were so delicate and breakable in his eyes and here touching a part of you it resonated so profoundly.

Mikey’s eyes were wide as saucers when you leaned back and pulled up your sleep shirt tossing it. “Is this okay?” Your hands lingered at the sports bra you still had on. Mikey licked his lips, his hands found the fabric. “It is.. are you okay with it too? Can I...?” You nodded and Mikey began to push up the garment over your head. There was a rush of emotions coursing through both of your bodies. This regardless of the rapid acelaration happening, felt right.

Mikey merely admired the flesh he would dream of. The warmth of your skin, the shyness in your gaze. “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful Y/n” His voice gave you goosebumps, you smiled fondly before crashing into his lips again. You teasingly pressed your tongue into him and he nearly melted against you with a shiver. You pressed your forehead against his, an openness to your gaze that said so much. Mikey swallowed, his throat felt so dry and his body was a live wire. You pushed the sheet that had been covering him, gaze never leaving his.

“Oh god” Mikey moaned when you gripped and stroked him slowly.

“Want you...” You mumbled against his jaw, the scales were so comforting.

“Me too, for months now” Mikey confesses with a groan. You smile against his cheek, a relieved sigh escaping you. For months he said, for months.

You moved your underwear to the side and descended onto his member. Mikey hissed and gripped your thighs, the heat felt like nothing he expected. That initial breach left him pulseless. He found your face and was knocked over with the way your skin flushed and how each inch that entered her made her moan.

When you were fully sat on him you wrapped yourself around Mikey and held him so close. That act alone was everything to him. He held you close, letting you take charge of the pace. “God you feel so good” You whispered against his neck, Mikey felt his stomach do a somersault at those words. This couldn’t be a dream now could it? He prayed he wasn’t about to wake up. With each upward and downward stroke of her walls it was positive that this was actually happening.

“Please, please, please” Mikey knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, with how tight and perfect you felt the end was close. “It’s ok Mikey, do it, I want you to do it” You kissed up his neck, your hips quickening. A sound you weren’t even sure what could be left him, it was a deep vibrating and that along was something you wanted to hear again and again. Mikey held onto you for life, emptying himself in you in a way he’d never felt he could.

His brain felt like a gummy bear, he wasn’t even aware what was happening when you reached between the two of you and rubbed vigorolously. The tightness around his member was so overstimulating that he moaned weakly. You fell against him breathing hard, Mikey held you equally tired.

“Are you okay?” Mikey made an affirmative noise, hand rubbing lazy circles on your back. “Stay with me please” His voice was sleepy, you smokeless weakly and nodded.

Mikey fell a sleep with that candy scent surrounding him, your warmth a too him.

Completely engulfed in everything he loved about you.

[iam93percentstardust]

Any kidfic recs where they have a lil kid but not a teenager? 🥰 Love ya!

Definitely! Kidfics tend to be very hit or miss for me since child development can be very hard to get right but the ones that I do like, i tend to positively love and frequently reread

You didn’t specify a ship so I went with Stevetony, Winteriron, and Stuckony, but I’ve separated them by ship so you can easily pick and choose which ones you want to read:

Stevetony

Of Strippers and Snow Shovels by @betheflame

Tony has some questions about what Peter's dad does for a living after Peter draws an ... interesting picture about why his dad is his hero.

Practically Perfect in Every Way by @betheflame and @hogwartstoalexandria

Tony Stark is a lot of things - billionaire, former playboy, professional philanthropist - but a few years back he added two more titles: widower and single father. As Peter keeps growing, Tony can't seem to keep a nanny. Thankfully, his employee James Barnes has a solution.

Art therapist Steve Rogers is really tired of living grant cycle to grant cycle, but is wary when he gets an opportunity from his best friend's boss to be his child's live-in caregiver. He hates Bucky's boss. But then he meets the kid and then he gets to know Tony and then...

And then they all live happily ever after.

Rockabye by @bladeofthenebula27

Cute alphas didn’t appear out of nowhere to help ruined omegas. That was a widely accepted fact.

Tony Stark had always known his life wouldn’t be easy as a genius omega in an alpha’s world. But not even he predicted getting knocked up and forced to move to a small town in the middle of nowhere.

Some things can’t be hidden by @s-horne

“What?” Peter sat up in the booth, suddenly alert. “Dad, what is it?” He followed Tony’s eyes right to a man in the doorway of the restaurant. A big, blond and young man that even Peter could admit was attractive.

“Is that him?” Peter asked. “He’s young.”

“He’s 32,” Tony argued, though he was still pale and didn’t shift his gaze.

“Have you actually seen proof of age? Because he looks young, Dad. Like not that much older than my age. Have you checked his ID? There are some good fakes out there, just warning you.”

“Will you be quiet?” Tony hissed, lifting his hand and waving to the man. “He is perfectly legal, thank you very much.”

Peter watched as the guy lit up as soon as he noticed Tony, awkwardly dodging the lunchtime crowds as he tried to make his way over to their table.

“Hi,” he said when he reached them, a beaming smile on his face. He made a motion to kiss Tony before his eyes flickered to Peter and he changed his course, pressing his lips to Tony’s cheek instead and stepping away quickly.

Adventures in Babysitting by @s-horne

Bucky babysits Peter for the first time on his own. There are cuddly toys, tears, cupcakes, and bedtime stories.

It Takes a Village (or a team of superheroes) by aven_garde

Three months after the Chitauri attack, Tony received a phone call that changed his life. (Or, the one in which a group of remarkable people come together and balance battling villains and raising a child).

In Trouble Deep by @festiveferret and @sirsapling

"Whoever did this has a reason, and Stark needs to be with someone who can protect him. He won’t exactly be able to protect himself like this.” Fury looked at the baby consideringly. “No, it’s you, Steve. Besides, he likes you. Suck it up, soldier, you’re stuck with him.”

Tony, Please by @festiveferret

Steve is doing just fine nursing a painful crush on his most captivating client. That is, until his babysitter has an emergency and drops Steve's six-year-old daughter off at his work. Somehow, everything goes off the rails.

like-like by nanasekei

Morgan doesn’t really know Captain America.

And honorable mention cause even though it’s just a pregnancy fic right now, I’m holding out hope for a sequel with a baby:

Baby’s Breath by @s-horne

Wow. Tony’s mind went blank when his eyes moved involuntarily and focused in on where Nurse Rogers was pointing something out on the computer screen. It was nothing, really. It was a blob roughly the size of a jelly bean. The picture wasn’t even clear. It was black and white and so ridiculously grainy that Tony couldn’t see clearly.

Oh. Actually, the reason he couldn’t see clearly was because of the tears in his eyes.

“Wow,” he said, voice breaking on the short words. “That’s…”

“Your baby. Right here.”

Tony fell silent again, just taking it all in. That was his baby. His child. A whole little person living inside of him, ready to grow and stretch and make his body do all kinds of weird things. Nine months of his baby inside of him and then eighteen years of them living in Tony’s house.

Somehow, it already didn’t seem like long enough. Seeing it on a screen wasn’t enough either. Tony wanted to reach out, to trace the tiny image with his fingers and try and feel what little extra he couldn’t inside of him.

After a long moment, he licked his lips. Shit. He was having a baby.

“Steve would love this,” he breathed out.

Winteriron

High Noon in Sandbridge (part of the Nights in Sandbridge series and does rely on some of the other works in the series, so make sure you read those first if you haven’t already) by @tisfan and @27dragons

Life is pretty good for Bucky and Tony these days. The restaurant is doing well, and they’re happy with their little family. Then Bucky’s sister meets an untimely end and Bucky and Tony are suddenly guardians to a niece they’ve only met a handful of times. Their attempts to make a home for the bereaved child are complicated by Tony's mother, Bucky’s ex-lover, and the man who claims to be Billie’s father. But whatever her parentage, Billie is a Barnes through and through -- stubborn and hot-tempered and not remotely interested in making a life in the one place that her mother had sworn never to return. Will she ever learn to call Dockside and Sandbridge home?

Place in Your Heart by potrix

They try to hide it, Bucky can see the effort they all put into making him more comfortable, but Bucky isn’t stupid, he knows they’d rather have him somewhere else, somewhere far away from their home, the place where they’re supposed to feel happy and safe.

The Long Way Round by potrix

“Maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore,” Tony blurts out in a rush. “It’s—I think it’s for the best. If we stop.”

It takes a moment for the meaning of the words to register, but when it does, Bucky turns cold, stomach sinking. “Are—are you breakin’ up with me? Tony—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Tony hurries to reassure, reading Bucky’s mind. “You were perfect, Bucky, I swear you were. Are. This. It’s not. It’s really not you,” he says with a small, humourless chuckle, “it’s me.”

Bucky looks at the tense line of Tony’s shoulders, at the sad set of his mouth, the defeat in his eyes, and he knows it’s the truth. Or, at least, what Tony believes to be true.

 Or; sometimes, people mean well, but that doesn't always mean they know best. Bucky and Tony, unfortunately, have to learn that the hard way.

Letters to a Soldier by CityofAngels

When Peter Stark, son of the famous tattoo artist Tony Stark, signed up for a program to write letters to a soldier, he didn't know what Bucky Barnes would change in his and his father's life...

Boys Will Be Boys by NotEvenCloseToStraight

When Peter and Harley can't stop fighting at school, Dad!Tony and Dad!Bucky meet up to try and figure out a way to keep the peace between their kiddos, but end up falling for each other instead.

Stuckony

‘Til the End of the Line by Avengers_Whore

“Steeeeeve!”

“There’s the lil devil now,” Bucky murmured fondly. “Lemme see ‘im.”

Steve laughed and nodded his head, walking out of the kitchen and heading towards the bedroom. He opened the door and sighed when their omega was nowhere in sight on the bed. He made his way towards their closet and opened the door, pointing his phone at the brunet curled up in all of the clothes.

Fennel Root & Super Soldiers by @betheflame

Peter hasn't stopped crying for weeks and Tony is nearly at his whit's end. Thankfully, Steve and Bucky have a plan.

Forging Bonds by Huntress79

Just when Tony thought that his relationship with Steve and Bucky is safe and stable, he learns of a son he apparently has. How will “his” soldiers react to the sudden addition to the household?

[59writes]

THE DRAW (PART ONE)

(PART TWO)

if you’re reading this as like an actual fic: first of all I’m sorry. how did you end up here. it’s most definitely 2 am go to bed. this fic was literally made because of a fucking uquiz about “ what kpop boy are you enemies to lovers with”

second of all, ignore any chess mistakes. idk I know legit fuckall about chess, my brother just always bitches about it whenever I want to stop playing because I just have my king left or smth like that because I know I’ve lost. mf reads chess books.

like look: I UNDERSTAND the game and how it works, and the idea that you have to think ahead and plan. but I’m adhd as shit and there’s no such thing as time or planning. ergo, I suck. like I SUCK. I feel like if I applied myself I’d be great but fuck that. I’m a bad chess player and y’all gotta deal.

third: I mention League Of Legends at one point. I’m so cringe yes shut up ok but I’ve been special interest-ing League for several months now and I need to let you know that Josh, y/n, and Jeonghan play a mean jungler/adc/support combo (respectively). I have so many more headcanons typed in my draft or whatever but I know nobody wants to see it so

anyways pls enjoy this train wreck of a fic lol

If you had known playing chess would have led to this bullshit, you never would have started playing in the first place.

You wouldn’t have worked your ass off, wouldn’t have pored through strategy books and watched live-streamed games, wouldn’t have competed for months to become an official grandmaster. Absolutely not. None of that hard work and pride deserved to be wasted on Yoon Jeonghan.

Thanks to your exceptional academics and study habits, as well as your headlining pursuits in chess, private schools crawled to your front door and begged for you to give them money just so they could brag about having you as arm candy. You didn’t care. It was free scholarships, a chance to leave your tiny town, a chance to start anew with people just like you. If you were lucky, they wouldn’t know your fame status, or would be used to the junk by now. Some would probably be even more popular than you.

So you grabbed a paper, scribbled a signature on, and packed your bags.

You had picked an academy for the arts, as logic games apparently counted as one. They figured they could do something with your whimsical essay writing as well, submit you in scholastic contests. It didn’t matter. You were free, and there to play some goddamn chess.

They had a hardcore club there, meeting daily on weekdays and occasionally for casual play on the weekends. Everyone there was excellent, all clever players with quick logic and a competitive edge that you hadn’t seen in a while. It was refreshing, but still not enough of a challenge.

You swept the floor with your classmates, and rose to the top of the club’s rankings within a week.

Of course you lost games here and there, as everyone did, but for the most part any game you began was imbalanced from the beginning. Your opponent could at best only defend themselves, only able to pick off pawns or bait bishops that inevitably ended in a brutal checkmate.

You were top of the class, and for once it took some effort. You felt like you’d earned something, and you were actually interacting with serious chess players who wanted to learn, not fawn over your work. They played fair and every game was fun.

That was until the blond bitch came in.

He sauntered into the class about a month after you’d hit the top of the leaderboard, long blond hair tied back in a neat and slick ponytail. You barely noticed, immersed in a game with another boy, Joshua. You studied the board as your opponent looked up, grinning wildly.

“Jeonghan!” He called out, waving at the other boy.

Jeonghan’s ponytail whipped across his shoulder as he turned, matching Josh’s smile with a killer beam of his own and jogging over.

“‘Shua!” He chirped, playfully wrapping an arm around Joshua’s neck, strangling him while his other hand smooshed Josh’s hair around.

You watched them wrestle for a second before clearing your throat. “Josh, your move.”

“Aw shit.” Josh says, wrestling Jeonghan’s arm away from his shoulder. “Back to the ass kicking.”

You grin. “If you hadn’t made that dumb move literally third turn in-“

“Hey! We are NOT talking about that!”

You snort and glance at Jeonghan, who’s gone quiet, studying the board. He crouches down and whispers in Josh’s ear, both of them scanning the board. Josh finally nods, pushing one of his pawns forward.

“What was that about, Hong?” You ask, capturing said pawn with a neat L from your knight.

“Nothing.” He replies sweetly, while Jeonghan smirks.

“Sure it wasn’t.”

Josh doesn’t reply. The rest of the game is tensely quiet, interrupted only by Jeonghan murmuring into Joshua’s ear every few minutes, a devil on his shoulder.

But it was fine, you were ahead by a few pieces, your bishops slowly inching towards a checkmate. The next move was it, the game in the bag.

And then your queen is gone.

Jeonghan takes the liberty of removing it from the board with a proud smile while Joshua cackles.

The game doesn’t last much longer, soon the both of you down to just pawns and your king, and then just the kings. A draw.

And let’s be honest here: Joshua kinda sucks at chess.

Josh counted it as a victory, though, hitting Jeonghan with a high five that echoed around the classroom like a firecracker. The boys talked briefly while you set up the board again for the next duo and packed your bag, ready to head to your dorm for a much-needed nap.

You wave to Joshua and turn to go, only making it a few steps before someone grabs your wrist. You whip around, ready to tell them off, only to be met with Jeonghan interrupting whatever swear you were about to say with a sharp smile.

“I’m playing you on Monday.”

He lets go of your wrist and turns around, resuming his talk with Josh as if nothing happened.

Rubbing your wrists ruefully, you headed home.

•••

Of course, his bullshit didn’t stop there.

You did, in fact, play him on Monday. He had you cornered within five minutes.

The next time, in four.

He gathered a crowd a few games in. Every time you’d meet his gaze he’d smirk, eyes brimming with some sort of superiority that made you furious, always endlessly cool and calm. He’d flick his hair over his shoulder every so often, even stopping to talk to spectators while you puzzled over the board, trying to hide your stress.

You were second place by Wednesday.

•••

“You cheated.”

Jeonghan just raises a brow.

“Put the rook back.” You growl, firm.

“Sorry?” He ignores your request, instead poking at one of your previously captured pawns he has resting on the table next to him. “Can you move? I’ve almost got checkmate.”

“My rook, Yoon.” You hold out your hand. “Give it back, or put it back yourself. H6.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you resign? If we were using a timer you’d have been disqualified sometime last week.”

It’s taking every ounce of self control to not slap the living shit out of the smug bastard. “Jeonghan, if you don’t-“

“How’s the game going here?” The chess club leader had made her way to your table, grinning widely upon seeing her favorite students.

Jeonghan smiles kindly at her while you curl in on yourself, trying not to explode. “It’s fine, Ms. Lee. Almost done with this one.”

“Are you missing a piece? Looks like the black rook-“

“Must have fallen off the table.” Jeonghan chirps, ducking under the table and returning with the piece in hand. He sets it with the rest of his captured black army, sending a thumbs up at Ms. Lee. “Thanks for noticing, we don’t need to lose any more pieces.” It’s an innocent sentence, but it makes you turn a boiling red. Lose a piece, my ass.

“Well played, both of you.” She replies, patting Jeonghan on the head fondly before walking off. The blond rolls his eyes, ducking his head so Ms. Lee can’t see.

“Jeonghan, you asshole.” You hiss as soon as Ms. Lee is out of earshot. “I saw you take it out of your pocket, you lying-“

“If you’re not moving, I’m going to.” Jeonghan replies, moving his bishop forward to capture your queen. “Checkmate. Good game.”

You can only gape as he grabs your hand to shake it and walks off, approaching Joshua.

That was when you really knew you hated him.

•••

You studied his games from then on, partially to learn, partially to gather evidence. If he was cheating this consistently with other players, you could definitely get him kicked out of the club and subsequently your life once competition season started, as well as learn and potentially steal his strategies.

Infuriatingly, though, every single game he played besides the hellish ones with you were completely fair. No pieces being slipped into his thin hands when nobody was looking, no clock taps that discreetly took a few seconds from his opponent’s timer. Even with Josh, who he was best buddies with: not even a joking steal or a prank of any kind.

It was just with you.

Every single game you played together, he managed to do something to piss you off, if not blatantly cheat. If it was one of the days you had spectators, his harassment would come in the form of heavy looks and obnoxious “I’m waiting”-esque moves: tapping his nails on the desk, raising a brow, checking his watch.

And if you were alone, you basically had to glue your pieces down to the board to stop them from slipping their way into his pockets. It was obvious when he did it, too, always sending you a smile, too innocent.

It was infuriatingly adorable how proud he was of his nasty behavior. And he was focused too: none of his other opponents got the thought and effort he put into outwitting you and attempting to steal things without you noticing. As much as you hated him, you had to admire it.

Which is why it was so hard to finally draw a line and refuse to play with him anymore.

Though he shrugged when you put your foot down, his dark eyes watched you the rest of that club session. Every time you caught him, he held your gaze for a moment before looking away and resuming cheerfully animated conversation with his opponent.

God, how was he so easily likeable?

He respected your decision, though, and didn’t even attempt to talk to you. It was genuinely polar and strange, and it made you lost in thought as the months passed.

You almost missed the absence of anger, as stupid as it was. School had always been boring and simple, and chess with Jeonghan was the only thing to have made you frustrated in a long time, to have truly challenged you in a long time.

Even when you buckled down on trying to get him out of your head, he seemed to follow- being friends with Joshua (and honestly most of the other club members) almost always devolved into chats about the club and “why aren’t you playing Jeonghan anymore?”. Josh often suggested playing video games with the two of them, and you had to refuse (although playing League with Josh was so fun).

It was lonely.

Stupid Jeonghan.

•••

Finally, tournament season started.

Following (what was apparently) club tradition, the entire team dyed their hair between practices. You settled with a simple streak of blue that was stolen from Josh (he went completely teal, the madman).

The next day, Jeonghan came to practice with his blond ponytail gone, replaced by a dark brown undercut, hair bluntly chopped to end around his jaw.

Unfortunately, it suited him.

He saved a blond spot for a bit of Josh’s blue, however, and Josh dyed it for him in the middle of the clubroom, laughing the whole time. They’d planned it, clearly, as you were pretty sure Josh didn’t just carry around dye in his backpack.

Which means he knew you two would match when he did your hair.

It was confirmed by an apologetic shrug when you cornered him while he threw away the dye-stained gloves.

“Give him a chance, please y/n?”

“Hong Jisoo. You know how I feel about that dumbass-“

“y/n-“

“Why are you so insistent on having us talk again? He’s a two-faced-“

“y/n, you’d like him. He’s funny, and genuinely nice. I don’t know why he was acting like that with you, but that was almost three months ago. Give him a chance.”

“You should be glad I like you, you stupid fucking rat.”

Josh laughs as you walk away, fuming.

Unfortunately, you did like that stupid fucking rat, and so when he offered dinner after an out-of-state tournament (he pinky swore he’d pay) you finally gave in.

Jeonghan coming?

lol yea

that ok?

not rlly

I’ll give him a chance tho

:D thank u

you owe me

I’m buying ur food :(

josh we r literally getting fast food

you owe me

lol k >:)

[rhubarbbaby]

Strawberries and Art 4

Jihoon x Y/N

Genre: College AU, Fluff, Smut (y´all can visit me in horny jail) Word Count: 6,3k Summary: Like every passionate art student, you spent most of your time immersed in your drawings and paintings. The day you meet Jihoon, your everyday life suddenly gets a lot more exciting…

All chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Chapter 4

When the two of you entered your apartment you took both of your jackets and threw them over one of your kitchen chairs. It was weird showing him your living space after only having met him a few days ago. You were not a tidy person…paint, drawings, blank pieces of paper were scattered all over your apartment. Even though he was aware that there were still oh so many things he didn´t know about you (yet) Jihoon instantly recognized you everywhere. Every item in your apartment screamed you. The small potted plant on your window sill, a blue hairclip on your kitchen table, the seemingly empty bottles of paint that you had left in the sink. All of those things added up to you like puzzle pieces.

Only now realizing the intimacy of the moment, you became nervous again. For a moment the silence between you was filled with uncertainty and a hint of awkwardness. He had never been at your place and neither you nor he knew how to act. God, you really should´ve tidied up yesterday.

“Uhm, you want a glass of water or something?” you finally broke the silence. “Yeah, sure.” His voice sounded a bit distracted but because you were trying to hide the shakiness in your own voice you didn´t notice it too much. You filled two glasses with water and put them on the kitchen table. Jihoon was not looking at you. He was focused on the wall that was connecting your kitchen with your small living room, which basically only consisted of a sofa and a TV that you only rarely used. On the wall you had hung up some of your work. Not because you specifically liked it, there was simply not enough space where you could have kept all of your drawings. The wall was stuffed; some of the paintings were even overlapping each other. The thought of him seeing your work was making you so nervous you wished to vanish so you would never have to look him in the eyes again to see his reaction. What if he didn´t like your work? You couldn´t think of anything worse in that moment. But at the very same time you couldn´t keep yourself from staring at his side profile. He really was astonishingly beautiful.

“Did you draw these?” he asked you, still looking at your paintings. “Yup.” “All of them?” “Yeah..” “I…I´m not often speechless but wow I really don´t know what to say.” He turned around to look at you again. “Are they that bad?” you forced out a giggle. He stared at you, he knew you were joking but your voice suddenly didn´t sound confident at all. Your eyes were fixated on the floor; you were trying to avoid eye contact. “Y/N, these are fucking amazing.” He said softly, a smile appearing on his face. He looked so sincere. Accepting compliments had never been one of your strengths but the relief of realizing he actually liked your work paired with the fact that the compliment was coming from Jihoon himself made you grin. “Thank you.” “Don´t thank me. I should thank you for letting me look at them.” “Now you´re exaggerating.” “No I´m not.” “You are!” “Ok, maybe. But you just look too cute when you´re flustered.” You just stared at him for a second, wide eyed, cheeks rosy and hot, still grinning. When you couldn´t bear the tension between the two of you anymore you hid your face in the palms of your hands. “Jihoon, can you please stop.” He chuckled and took two steps in your direction just to put one of his hands on your hip to get you closer to him, while his other hand tried to drag away your own hands from your face. “I´m not doing anything, Y/N. No idea what you talking about.” Obviously having way too much fun teasing you, he was beaming. You had your head tilted to the ground, so you still wouldn´t have to look at his face. “You know exactly what you´re doing.” Your heart was beating so fucking fast and your breathing was shaky but you couldn´t help but giggle at the situation. Why did the bastard always have to tease you?? “I swear I´m innocent!” You were looking up at him again, both of you were grinning, and if you would´ve paid a bit more attention to his breathing you would´ve realized that he wasn´t as calm as you thought. “Innocent, my ass.” You shook your head to accentuate your point. He let out a hearty laugh at your choice of words just to pull you even closer into him at the same time. He now had both of his hands on your hips which had made you put your hands on his arms to steady yourself and oh Jesus you could actually feel his muscles through his shirt. Raising one eyebrow, still smiling at you, he said “If the lady would be so kind to tell me what she is accusing me of, I might be able to change my behavior.” “You´re just…” you started your sentence but you couldn´t get yourself to finish what you wanted to say. The situation, the tension, him…Everything was too much, so you just tried to hide your face on his shoulder. “I´m just what? Continue.” He urged you on but he also held you close to him with putting one of his hands on your lower back. “You´re…you´re just making me so nervous and I don´t even know how to react.” You whispered against his shoulder. He didn´t say anything he just pulled you into an even tighter hug. One hand on your lower back, the other one stroking your hair. “I´m sorry. But you just look too cute when you´re blushing.” “Jihoon!” He chuckled and you could feel the vibrations of it too. “Sorry.” You stayed like this for a while, your bodies pressed together, him stroking your hair. You were so close to him you were able to feel his heart beat in his chest. Your cheeks were still a pretty shade of red and you still were a tiny bit nervous but your heartbeat was finally slowing down again and had started to align with his. You were sure you could´ve stayed like this forever; hugging him in your kitchen while beams of sunlight were coming in through the window.

“Y/N?” “Mhm.” “Can I kiss you?” You lifted your head off his shoulder to look at him. Your eyes were wide, startled by his request but as soon as you saw the tiny bit of insecurity in his eyes you realized that no you hadn´t imagined that, and you also hadn´t misheard, Jihoon really had just asked to kiss you. You didn´t have to think about it, there was probably nothing you wanted more in this exact moment so you simply just nodded with a slight smile. In a second his lips were on yours, his hand was now holding your face. His lips were so soft, and he tasted so damn good and for a moment you forgot about everything. You forgot about how minutes ago that same man you were kissing now had been able to turn you into a blushing mess, you forgot you were standing in your messy apartment, hell you even forgot about your assignment. You just felt his body against yours and how perfectly the two of you molded together, you felt how tight you were holding him, how he was holding you even tighter and fuck you actually felt his lips on yours. When he slid his tongue inside of your mouth, you couldn´t stop yourself from letting out a small sigh which made him chuckle against you.

He eventually pulled away after what had felt like a way too short eternity. He fondly stared at you just to turn his head to look at your drawings again. He still had his hand on your face stroking your cheek when he said: “On a serious note, you´re really talented. Like seriously.” You hugged him tighter, you couldn´t see his smile when you did so. And maybe, just maybe he was blushing a bit too. “Thank you.” “I should be thanking you for drawing me. In some years people are going to pay you lots of money for that." “Oh my god will you stop it already.” You giggled against his chest.   “Never.” You just stood there for a few more moments, both of you not wanting to let go. Being close to him made you feel comfortable and excited at the same time. You could still feel the beating of your heart very distinctively and your stomach was doing things but you also felt at ease. Fuck you had such a crush on this man.   “Ok so like do I have to sit still on a chair or how does this work?” Jihoon ripped you out of your thoughts. “Basically yes.” You giggled and softly pushed yourself away while gesturing to the kitchen table. It felt weird not to touch him anymore. The second you had let go of him, you wanted nothing more than to hug him again and nestle your face against his neck and fuck you really wanted to kiss him again. “Uhm, my desk is really small so I think we should just stay here.” “Perfect.” He sat down at the kitchen table, smirking up at you. He looked so fucking cocky. “Give me a second; I need to get my stuff.” You stuttered, still a bit perplex because of the kiss.

Had this really just happened? You stumbled to your bedroom where you had your desk, on which you kept most of your drawing utensils. Quickly you grabbed all the things you needed. Your mind was foggy, still in denial of what had just happened. Coming back to the kitchen you sat down in the chair opposite of Jihoon and took out all the items that you needed. You tried very hard not to look at him, fuck you swore you´ve never been as nervous as at that exact moment. How were you supposed to draw a straight line after just having kissed him?

“You ready?” you asked, your voice too quiet to sound confident. “Born ready.” He grinned. “Just please make me look handsome.” You playfully rolled your eyes at him. “Are you fishing for compliments, Jihoon?” “I don´t know…is it working?” he chuckled. “You already know you´re handsome. I don´t have to tell you that.” You laughed. “So it was working.” He winked at you. “Shut up.” You averted your gaze from his face, so he wouldn´t see the blush that was covering your cheeks again. He just snickered at your remark but kept looking at you, never turning his eyes off of you.

“Can we talk while you´re drawing or do I have to be quiet so you can concentrate?” “We can talk. I´ll try to pay attention but don´t be mad if I get distracted.” “I could never be mad at you, sweetie.” You nearly dropped the pencil you had just picked up. “Jihoon! Stop calling me that.” He had both of his arms crossed over the table and was leaning forward to grin at you. “You don´t like it?” “Oh my god Jihoon, just stop teasing me.” You said while trying to hide a smile. He threw his hands into the air defensively. “I swear this wasn´t my intention. I´ll stop.” His face was serious but the corner of his mouth was twitching, trying to hold back a smile. After looking at you for a second he added: “I´m sorry, Sweetie.” “Jihoon!” No longer being able to hide his amusement, he let out a deep laugh. That kind of laugh that made his eyes disappear. And even though you were still nervous and blushing you couldn´t help but join in. “I´m sorry Y/N. I´ll try to stop. But you really don´t have to be embarrassed. You do look very pretty when you´re blushing. Seriously.” You didn´t avoid his eyes this time. Why did it feel so intimate to just look him in the eyes? Your breathing wasn´t exactly regular and you felt like your tummy was full of butterflies who were trying out new break dance moves. “Thank you.” Your voice sounded so soft and Jihoon could hear the shyness in it but there was just nothing more adorable than you in that moment, or so he thought. He wouldn´t mind teasing you for hours, hell he´d love that.

“Should I tilt my head a certain way?” “No not really, just try to look my way.” “So I´m getting a free pass to just keep staring at you. Awesome.” “That was just cheesy.” You giggled not looking at him because you had already started to outline the shape of his head on your piece of paper. “But you liked it.” He stated. “I wish I had your ego.” “I swear it´s not as big as it seems.” “Not sure I believe you.” You shot a glance at him as you said so. He didn´t say anything for a moment, only the scraping of your pencil on the paper was filling up the room. Of course you couldn´t have known but Jihoon was contemplating. Contemplating whether he should open up to you. He liked flirting with you, making you blush, fuck he loved kissing you and he´d be lying if he said he hadn´t thought about doing other things to you… but he also couldn´t ignore your seriousness, the way you seemed to be really interested in what he was saying. He couldn´t ignore how you were actually listening to him talk about the things he was passionate about. And he definitely couldn´t ignore the fact that he was nervous because you had only gotten to know this cocky, overly confident side of him. He wanted to get to know you. But he also wanted you to get to know him.

“I´m insecure about a lot of stuff too, you know.” His voice had come out softer than he wanted it to. You didn´t look up from your paper. But he knew you were listening, you always were. “I´m very insecure about my music.” He continued. “I really want to play some songs for you. Now that you showed me your work, it´d only be fair. But I´m afraid you won´t like it.” You stopped drawing for a second and looked at him, puzzled by his honesty. “You really don´t have anything to worry about. I already know I´m going to love your music. Every piece of art, every song or whatever is always a self-portrait of the artist themselves, in some sort of way at least. And I like you, why wouldn´t I like your music?” He stared at you, a hint of disbelief glistening in his eyes. Jihoon had been so sure he would never meet a person who knew all the right words, had been so sure he would never meet a person who would be able to give him a feeling of security just from a sentence. But there you were, sitting in front of him concentrated on your drawing, not aware of how much a difference your words have made. There you were: tenant of all beautiful words he had always wanted to hear. Jihoon didn´t consider himself romantically minded but holy shit you were making him reconsider. “Thank you for saying that, sweetie. It means a lot.” You smiled. This time the pet name didn´t make you blush as much.

You had been drawing for about an hour now. Both of you hadn´t said anything for the last few minutes. The silence was comfortable and neither one of you had felt the urge to break it. Jihoon kept looking at you, admiring your concentrated face while you took in every single one of his features. It felt so right to draw him, like everything that had ever happened in your life had lead up to this exact moment. His face was full of beautiful lines and curves and you saw beautiful shapes everywhere. It amazed you how perfectly and neatly all those sometimes imperfect lines were connected to form something even more beautiful. Yes it felt right to draw him but you also weren´t able to ignore the tiny hint of anxiety that was sitting in your chest. You really wanted this portrait to be perfect, not because you wanted a good grade (that too) but because you wanted him to like it.

Meanwhile Jihoon was still looking at your wall full of drawings. “Did you hang up that drawing of that poppy field you did?” he finally asked. You smiled to yourself, realizing he had actually remembered the paintings you had told him about. “I gave it to my mom. It´s back at home.” “By the way I still remember you telling me about that one hedgehog drawing you did as a kid. Do you have that around somewhere?” he beamed at you. You groaned playfully “I told you it´s not even good!” “I just wanna see a cute hedgehog drawing. Is that too much to ask for?” he was pouting and you giggled. “Maybe I´ll look for it later.” “You´re the best.” A childish grin settling back onto his face. Trying to hide your own smile you just continued to shade the left side of his face.

After the second hour had passed Jihoon seemed to have grown a bit bored with sitting still the entire time. “What are you thinking about?” “Not much honestly. I´m contemplating if I should use another pencil for that part or if I…” “You ever do nude paintings?” You looked up from your drawing to look at him. You had definitely not expected him to ask a question like that. If this was a comedy show, you would´ve comically spit out your drink out of shock. “You´re volunteering or something?” you had no clue how you did it but you somehow managed to make your voice sound very casual as if his question hadn´t really affected you much. Obviously amused by your attempt to flirt he raised an eyebrow. “You really just want to get me naked Y/N don´t you?” This was not fair! Why was he so cocky? When he saw you trying to hide your blushing cheeks with staring (a bit too hard) at your drawing he chuckled. “I´m just joking…” he said softly and waited for you to stop eyeing the piece of paper in front of you. When you glanced up at him he added “Unless…” while wiggling his eyebrows. Yes your face felt hot from blushing and yes your hands had started to shake a bit again but you couldn´t help but laugh. “Jihoon you are the worst.” You giggled. “Nah I´m not.” He smiled at you. “No you´re not.” You smiled back.

“Nah but seriously. You ever do nude paintings? I´m just curious.” “Yeah sometimes. But I only ever draw women.” “Why?” “I don´t know. I guess I just find the female body aesthetically more pleasing.” “Makes two of us.” You giggled “Why did I know you would say something like that?” “Because I´m a smart man who appreciates women?” he smirked. “How are you so cocky?” “Cocky? What do you mean? I´m just being honest.” He dramatically put his hand over his heart as if he was outraged you´d think something like that of him. You snickered “Yeah right…” “You don´t think I´m smart?” You were still smiling, but your eyes were focused on your drawing again. “I didn´t say that.” “So you don´t think I appreciate women?” “I didn´t…” He interrupted you before you could finish your sentence. “You know, I could show you. That I appreciate women I mean.” He was smirking when you looked up from your drawing. Had he really just said that? You let out a nervous laugh “Jihoon, please stop teasing me.” You again hid your face behind your hands. “I mean…I meant what I said.” He chuckled. “But yes I´ll stop, sweetie. I know you have to finish your drawing.” “Thank you.” You mumbled as you continued to draw. His words echoed in your ears...I meant what I said.

“I think I´m done.” You smiled at him and slid the piece of paper over the table for him to look at. He looked at your drawing. He had always been rather confident when it came to his looks. He considered himself averagely looking. He had small insecurities like everyone else, sometimes he thought his eyes were too small and not always did he like the way his eyebrows went or how his nose bent. Normal people stuff. But he was looking at your drawing of him now and all those insecurities seemed to have vanished. You had really captured his face perfectly. He didn´t look perfect he still thought his nose could be a bit smaller but for some reason the drawing looked so delicate, so soft. He could see you had drawn it. He was sure he would´ve been able to recognize any of your drawings anywhere. He looked at his face and his heart started beating a tad bit too fast, because he realized you had looked at every tiny detail of his face and still decided to draw this soft, beautiful version of him. Hell you´d definitely get an A. But he couldn´t care less about that. All his mind was focused on was realizing that this was actually how you were seeing him. He was sure he would never be able to completely fathom that.

“You don´t like it.” your voice made him look up from the drawing. “What?” he wasn´t sure he had heard you right. “You´ve been staring at it for so long…you don´t like it do you?” “Sweetie, you´re crazy.” “What?” now it was your turn to be confused. He just got up and walked over to you. Lingering in front of you for what must´ve been at least half a second he looked down at you still sitting on your chair and then he simply bent down and pressed his lips onto yours. It took you a short moment to reciprocate the kiss. You were still confused. Hadn´t he just called you crazy? Deepening the kiss he was reaching down to cup your face with his hand. Just as you had completely immersed yourself in the kiss he pulled away and stared into your eyes. “How the fuck are you gonna hand me the most perfect fucking drawing I´ve ever seen and still think I´m not gonna like it? Huh? How does that make sense?” “I…” you stammered. “You really have no clue how goddamn talented you are.” He didn´t even let you think of something to respond before he was kissing you again. This time you were quick to move your lips against his. You were still sitting when he grabbed your hips and arms to pull you up against him. He held your hips so tight that it almost hurt but fuck it also felt just so so good.

You sighed against his mouth, which made him pull you even closer to his body. The kiss felt so good but you also weren´t just able to forgot about how he actually liked your portrait of him. Had he actually called your drawing “the most perfect fucking drawing I´ve ever seen”? You had been so worried he wouldn´t like it, only for you to find out he loved it. You giggled against his lips. “What?” he pulled away, his hand still on your face, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “It´s just…I´m really happy you like the drawing.” “I love it.” he replied, his voice so sincere. “Thank you for letting me draw you.” “Don´t you dare thank me. I literally just had to sit on a chair.” “I mean yeah…but still…thank you.” “I said you shouldn´t thank me. Why are you never listening to me Y/N?” he jokingly groaned. He really wasn´t giving you a choice was he? You looked at him, trying to hold back a laugh before you started: “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, tha…” He cut you off by kissing you yet again. His mouth finding yours in a matter of seconds. The kiss was more rough this time, he didn´t waste time to slide his tongue inside of your mouth. It took your breath away. “Is this really what I have to do to stop you from thanking me?” “Maybe” you grinned. He shook his head as if he was disappointed before hurriedly pressing his mouth back onto yours.

When you felt his hands wander under the hem of your shirt and touch your bare skin you shivered. He quickly pulled away “Is this ok?” You didn´t trust yourself to use your voice so you simply took both of his hands and slid them further under your shirt. When you leaned in to kiss him again he smiled against you. He couldn´t believe his luck. You felt so good against him, so delicate, so soft. He let his hands travel further under your shirt to feel your bare skin. You felt so warm and when he was tracing his fingers over your side he could feel goosebumps forming on your skin. As you wrapped your arms around his neck just to slightly pull at his hair he groaned against your lips. God he really wanted you so bad. You still weren´t able to fully grasp the situation. You were actually kissing Jihoon. The boy you had only known for a few days, the boy you could listen to for hours because everything in him was full of passion, wholeheartedness and artistry. You didn´t know a lot about tunes or rhythm but you knew Jihoon embodied music and you couldn´t get enough.

Your bodies were glued together, not even a thin sheet of paper would have fit between the two of you, so when he walked you a few steps back until your hips were colliding with the table, you had to hold onto his arms and neck for balance. When he reached down to grab the back of your thighs to hoist you up onto the kitchen table you let out a tiny squeak of surprise which made him chuckle. “I´m not gonna let you fall. Don´t worry.” You were now sitting on the table, slightly looking down at him between your thighs, his hands under your shirt on your bare hips again. “You sure?” you raised your eyebrows. “Very sure, sweetie.” With that he started giving you light open mouthed-kisses on your neck that made you pull on his hair in return.

When he found that sweet spot right under your ear that made you see stars you gently moaned. “Fuck, Jihoon.” Without looking up at you he mumbled “What is it, sweetie?” When you didn´t answer he paused to look at you while cupping your face. “You want me to stop?” Yes he was teasing you; you could easily tell by the grin that had spread all over his face, he knew he was making you feel good. But his question was sincere.  You knew asking for consent and respecting boundaries were the bare minimum but fuck could this man be any more perfect? “God, no” you said and pulled him in for another kiss.

Jihoon´s hands wandered down to rub your thighs through your pants which made your hips jerk forward against his stomach. The growing heat in your abdomen robbed you of the ability to form a clear thought, you weren´t thinking straight, hell you weren´t thinking at all. You had slipped your hands under his shirt and were running them over his back. The combination of feeling his skin on yours and him continuously sucking on your neck and your lips made you let out a soft moan. He couldn´t believe you were making those sweet sounds just because of him, for him. “Sweetie?” his breath tickled your ear and made you squirm. “Mhm.” “Can I eat you out?” Your eyes widened at his request. Never had someone asked you something like this so boldly. When he didn’t receive an answer right away he slowed down and looked at you. “You don´t have to say yes. I didn´t mean to make you uncomfortable, sweetie.” “You didn´t make me uncomfortable. I just…you´re the first guy to ever ask me for this…” “Seriously?” You just nodded. And in that exact moment Jihoon wanted nothing more than to ruin you. You looked so innocent, so fucking pretty. “Let me take care of you?” he asked. You smiled at his choice of words. This man made you so so nervous, and you didn´t want to, couldn´t ignore the heat in your abdomen. “Please.” You whispered. A smile spread on his face and he gave you a quick peck on your lips. “Lie down.” His voice sounded so husky, so determined, he didn´t leave space for objection. He gently pushed your upper body onto the table so only your legs were hanging down. He quickly picked up your drawing from besides your head and put it on a chair nearby. “We don’t want this to get wrinkles, don´t we?” You let out a small giggle and before you could reply he had hitched up your shirt to leave kisses on your stomach. He didn´t waste time and pulled your shirt up to your chest so the only think covering your breasts was your bra. His mouth was still all over your upper body when he yanked down your bra so your nipples were met with cold air. You had closed your eyes and when he gently pulled on one of your nipples he could see how your mouth fell slightly open just to let out a soft moan. “Such pretty tits.” He groaned. His voice was so deep and he was so close to you, you could feel the vibrations of it on your stomach. You could´ve sworn this was the hottest thing you had ever heard in your entire life.

When you felt his hands pull down the zipper of your pants you tried to lift up your hips as so to help him but he only used his second hand to push you back down. “You´re so impatient, sweetie. Let me do the work.” You whimpered at his words. He was slowly pushing down your pants, including your panties while kissing down your legs. After you had heard the thud of your pants hitting the floor Jihoon hooked his arms under your knees. Your pussy lay open and unprotected before him but he didn´t pay any attention to it. You could feel the air on your folds and the wetness that had gathered between your legs. He was grabbing and clawing at your thighs and leaving kitten-licks all over your skin. As he got closer to your core he bit down gently. It felt so good, you weren´t able to hold back your moans. The noises that were coming from you urged him on even further. When he finally got to your core he looked down at your pussy. He didn´t touch you yet, he just looked down at you. You felt already so hot from arousal, you didn´t think it was possible but your face started blushing even more.  

“You ok?” he asked while caressing your legs softly. “Fuck, just touch me, Jihoon.” You whined and you were sure that with anyone else you would´ve felt embarrassed to sound this desperate but this was Jihoon. “Say please.” He grinned. “Please.” In any other situation you would´ve laughed at his words but you would´ve been lying if you said it didn´t turn you on. “You´re such a good girl.” He said when he finally ran his fingers up your folds. You bucked your hips against his hand at the sudden touch which just made him chuckle lightly. Your breathing was heavy and he could see your chest heaving up and down. Yes you were impatient for him to finally touch you where you needed it the most, but holy shit Jihoon was just as impatient to put his mouth on your beautiful pussy.

When he couldn´t hold back any longer he pushed your legs up even further so they were close to your shoulders and finally put his mouth over your folds. Your legs trembled at the first contact. And because patience definitely wasn´t one of Jihoon´s strengths he immediately started sucking on your clit and lapping up your wetness. It felt so good you thought you were turning mad. Your hands had clung to the sides of the table but now you had started to pull at his hair desperately, how could his mouth feel this good?? After a harsh pull on his hair he groaned against your pussy. “You taste so fucking good, sweetie.” You were not capable of forming a reply so you just let out another moan.

The heat in your lower body was so unbearable, so big, you felt like you would burst into flames any minute. As he started to suck on your clit more harshly you were sure you wouldn´t last another 5 minutes. Your orgasm was already so close and you couldn’t help but pull his face even closer to your core. He understood and continued sucking and licking your clit in the same rhythm. “Jihoon, I´m gonna cum.” You mumbled in between moans. He didn´t lift his head just let out an approving moan against your core. And then you came with Jihoon´s mouth over your pussy and your hands gripping his hair and for a moment you thought you would burst into tears from pleasure.

After your hips had stilled he gently put down your legs and pulled you back up into a sitting positon just to hug you close. Your breathing was still not back to normal and your legs were shaking a bit. Jihoon was soothingly running his hands up and down your back. “You good?” he finally broke the silence. “Better than good.” “You really are adorable you know.” “Just shut up.” You giggled.

Neither of you had a clue how much time had passed while holding each other. Your pants were still scattered on the floor and both of your hair was a mess but you couldn´t have imagined a more perfect moment. As you looked out of the window behind Jihoon´s shoulders you saw that the sun had already started to set and it was already getting dark. Without much thought you asked: “Hey uhm, do you maybe wanna stay the night?” Jihoon looked up at you. You really were gorgeous. The truth is he would´ve probably sold his kidney to spend a night with you but he also knew he had classes tomorrow morning that he still had to do some homework for. Life wasn´t fair. He ran his fingers over your jawline while looking at your face. “Fuck, sweetie I wish I could. But I still have to do some work for school.” “Oh my god I´m so sorry. And I kept you here all day just to finish my own assignment. I´m sorry.” He shook his head and gave you a quick peck on the lips. “Hush. That´s bullshit. I was just selfish.” “Huh?” “I just wanted a pretty portrait of myself.” He grinned and you let out a laugh. “I´m sure you´ll get an A by the way.” He added. “I really hope so.”

After you had put on your pants again and had fixed your ponytail you were standing next to Jihoon at your front door. “Can I see you again soon?” he asked. “Only if you say please.” “God you´re such a brat.” He chuckled and in a second his lips had found yours again. You really didn´t want to let him go. “Text me when you get home?” you asked. “Of course, sweetie.”

When he had left you started digging through your old paintings. 

The next day at school you were waiting for him in front of the music building. ”Y/N, what are you doing here?” He immediately pulled you into a hug. “Not happy to see me?” you grinned and started rummaging through your bag. “Of course I am. I´m just surprised.” “I actually need to get going asap because my classes are starting in a minute.” You murmured while still searching for something in your bag. “There it is” you mumbled as you pulled out the small envelope you had prepared. “I actually just wanted to give you this.” Jihoon hesitantly grabbed the piece of paper. “Why…” “I wanted to give you this as a thank you for letting me draw you.” He looked down at the envelope. “What…I told you, you didn´t have to thank me!” “I know but it´s nothing special. I promise!” you said, already turning on your heels to get back to the art building. “I hope you have a wonderful day!”

Jihoon just stood there completely dumbfounded. He opened the envelope right away, out fell two pieces of paper. He picked the smaller one. It was a little note on which you had written words with your neat handwriting:

“Thank you again. I know you said I didn´t have to thank you but still... I also know you really wanted to see that (really bad) hedgehog drawing I did as a kid but I couldn´t find it anymore. So I thought I´d just draw you a new hedgehog. Hope you like it!”

He just stood there. Speechless. And that was a big deal. Jihoon was never speechless. Why couldn´t he stop staring at this drawing of a hedgehog? He didn´t even care about hedgehogs. He was 120 percent sure he had never spent more than two seconds thinking about hedgehogs in his entire life.  But nonetheless he couldn´t stop staring. He of course knew that all this had nothing to do with the hedgehog itself.   And he knew it was ridiculous because he had just met you what was it? Not even a week ago? He knew it, but he also couldn´t keep looking at that small cute painting of a hedgehog. A fucking hedgehog…

Hi! It´s me, Jo. I´d like to thank you for reading my stuff! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you have any feedback, comments, requests, questions please let me know!

[emerald-amidst-gold]

FRIEND FRIEnd friend fr-

I have a 🌟 question 🌟

Souvenirs from days gone: Does Fane have a mundane object he's emotionally attached to from his past (draconic past or most recent)? A toy, a piece of clothing that doesn't fit any longer but he can't find in his heart to get rid of, a pretty pebble or a dried flower someone dear gave him in days long gone?

FRIEND, FRIIIIEEENNNNDDD! >:D Your questions always leave me pleasantly surprised and EXCITED because I just love explaining Fane's oddities and softer side!

So, objects that Fane is emotionally attached to? There are quite a few, actually! (Surprise, right? X'D) However, I'll go with the one that Fane cherishes the most!

In my fic, Mhairi gives Fane a crimson sash as a birthday present, and it's the only article of clothing (other than his leather wraps) that he wears that has Dalish inspiration. Though, he doesn't wear it because of that, of course, but the gift is something Fane rarely goes without because it was the first gift he received after his father's experiments ended (about a year after, in fact). It was like a safety blanket, a reminder that he wasn't truly alone, and that what he did perhaps wasn't in vain since Mhairi was alive, whole, and 100% unaware of everything that had happened to him.

----

"Vhenan, what is this? It appears to be of Dalish craftsmanship, but the materials are not what I'm accustomed to seeing.", Solas asked, turning to face where he was at the desk.

The rich crimson flowed over his sky's hands, delicate gold embroidery of leafless trees and the tiniest of hallas all along its edges and woven into the very core of velvet. Solas had a thoughtful, curious expression on his face, blue and grey orbs fixed on the beautiful article, almost appraising it. Fane chuckled at that, lifting a hand to scratch at his temple idly. Leave it to this elf to immediately pinpoint the one thing that actually meant something in his 'hoard' and assess it.

"You're too nosy for your own good sometimes, you know that?", Fane said, but he kept his voice light and a small smirk on his face. He wasn't miffed with the man; there were no secrets between them, just surprises as they learned and relearned.

Solas blinked, eyes and face snapping up to him as he was caught red handed. "I only--", he began, but Fane cut him off with a small wave of his hand.

He rolled his eyes, smirking more. "I know, my sky. Relax.", he assured, slowly pushing himself up from his seat with only a minor grimace of discomfort. He sat for too long again. How he did that with his job, he would never know.

Fane circled around the other end of his desk, strides slow, but not seeming like it as he easily closed the distance between he and Solas. The mage looked up at him, a wry smirk on his lips and the uncommon sight of sheepishness in his sky-line eyes. It was always a treat when he could coax out those hidden emotions with a few words. Always a treat.

"Here," Fane held out his hands, palms up and beckoning with two fingers. "..give it.", he said and smiled a tad more warmly as Solas gave him the crimson article of cloth without protest or question. The wolf was as keen as it was curious.

"I assume it is of sentimental value?", Solas asked as Fane began to fold the length of velvet and gold in a specific fashion, shortening it one way, lengthening it in another.

Fane nodded. "It was a gift.", he said, pulling the material taut to work out the kinks before seamlessly starting to wrap it around his waist. It was a bit harder to work this into his normal attire, especially with what he wore now, but the mage would get the gist.

Solas watched him raptly, head tilting a bit. "A gift?", he asked.

Fane huffed with amusement. "I know, an odd thought, but yes.", he affirmed, deftly tying and tucking without any thought. He had done this for so long that he barely had to visualize how the sash would lay, how the material would bunch or smooth out. As such, he glanced up, meeting soft orbs and a tender expression and greeted it one of his own. "..It was from Mhairi, so I guess it really isn't that odd of a thought if you think about it."

Realization flashed across his sky's features, thoughtfulness dissolving, blue swallowing grey as irises widened and pupils did so in turn. The shock wore off quickly, however, Solas' expression warming to where Fane could swear he could feel its heat physically. Or maybe that was just his face. His cheeks did feel warm. Which meant...he was blushing. Lovely. Why did he always blush when confronted with that look? Damn it all.

"I see. The craftsmanship makes more sense now with that in mind. Your sister is immensely talented in the delicate arts.", Solas said, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips more as he took a few steps to where Fane was suddenly having trouble tying due to how much warmth was between them. Damn the sky... It was too beautiful, too strong.

Fane cleared his throat harshly. "Yeah, she is.", he agreed, quickly turning his gaze down to crimson and gold because the view of blue and grey was making him lightheaded. "She spent months gathering the supplies and funds to make it. Odd jobs in the clan for coin and whatnot. I remember snapping at her when she told me she had gone to local villages to gather rarer items. Stubborn girl.", he grumbled, but smiled fondly all the while. His sister was indeed stubborn, but so was he. At least they were related in that fashion.

"She was willing to tempt to danger for you. I do not believe that is solely stubbornness, vhenan.", Solas explained with a fond chuckle.

Fane shrugged. "Guess not, but I still didn't like the thought of her traipsing into a town full of templars ready to maim her, to silence her.", he growled before taking a deep breath. Calm, calm. He would end up tearing the sash if he thought on those memories too much.

"Truthfully, nor do I relish that thought. Especially since I have seen the effects those in the armor have upon her.", the mage admitted. Fane remembered the event that Solas spoke of without full context. He would not let another gauntlet touch either of them again. "But, her gesture and endeavors were well meaning; they came from a place of love."

Fane hummed, ire washing away as he gazed at crimson and gold, trees and hallas. "Don't I know it.", he whispered with fondness. A new feeling of tranquility washed over him as he gazed down at the masterful sash, memories beginning to wiggle into his mind. "Material magic. That's what I've always called it."

He heard Solas chuckle, his hands coming into to view to help resume the task Fane could no longer complete due to emotions and more innocent days painting his psyche in gentle shades of pink. Every time he looked at his sister's gift for over long he...drifted, but not like how he once had when he gazed up at the sky, watching its expanse shift and feel his heart ache with yearning. This was more gentle, more welcome. It was nice.

"Explain?", Solas inquired, voice soft and gestures softer as slender hands skimmed along his waist and plucked at cloth. The mage was less prodding and more...reverent now. That made Fane lean forward a bit, resting the side of his head against Solas'.

"I just..feel calm from mere sight and touch. It's like how I feel when you speak to me in Elvhen in the morning.", he murmured, glancing down to see Solas was being less productive now, fingers merely tracing, feeling and memorizing delicate designs as his eyes were. "The material holds warmth and love; things I feel I still don't deserve, but am learning to accept. It's...something I don't think I'll be able to abandon even if the world commands me to." It would be one call he would not answer, and he would not feel guilt over it this time.

Solas' eyes fluttered shut. "Some must be obeyed, some mustn't. That is one I believe would be forgiven.", he whispered, coming closer still, fingers curling into lushness as Fane brought his arms up to loosely wrap them around an unadorned waist.

Fane hummed, nuzzling against the mage's temple absently. "We'll see about that, won't we? I may not abandon my sister's gift, but--"

Solas cut him off with a gentle shake of his head, eyes turning away from sanctuary to bore up into him, face soft, but expression hard. It was a look Fane was all too familiar with; they wouldn't think past today, or rather, he wouldn't. Easier said than done, but his sky was right. As always. He would find sanctuary tonight, not tear apart fabric as surely as he would one day tear apart a heart plated in gold and wrapped in velvet.

----

Fane loves Mhairi with all his heart. They may not be brother and sister in blood, but they are in soul. It's why everything he has to do and say later hurts so immensely; he doesn't want to do it. And it only hurts worse when the sash becomes a sword of pain to his heart rather than a blanket of sanctuary, but he keeps it, he endures. The sash seems mundane to those on the outside, but Fane doesn't care about them or what they think. He'll take any ounce of love he can, even if he feels, deep down, that he truly doesn't deserve it.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, ravenclawkward-art!

For @ravenclawkward-art. Happy Christmas! I hope you enjoy!!

Read On AO3

*****

Derek catches the first hint of the scent as he fits the key into the lock. Traces of vanilla, cinnamon and the earthy tang of petrichor hang in the air— it’s a scent he’s become thoroughly acquainted with over the last few years.

He pushes open the front door, prompting the scent to waft through and envelope him like a warm hug.

“How did you get in?” He asks, not even looking at the figure sprawled across his couch. Moving through to the kitchen, Derek sets down his paper bag of groceries. “Actually, how did you get here?” He asks, turning. He hadn’t seen the Jeep on his way in.

“Oh, you know.” Stiles wanders in after him, hopping up onto the counter beside the fridge. “Magic.” He punctuates the word with jazz hands.

Derek huffs fondly, rolling his eyes and reaching for the milk. “Don’t you have friends you can annoy instead?”

“Good try big guy,” Stiles teases, helping Derek by handing him things out of the bag. “I’m here for the pack meeting.”

“You’re three hours early.”

“I’m super punctual.” Stiles swings his legs, knocking his heels into the cupboard door beneath him. “Oh.” His legs still suddenly and he drops down from the counter. “You got mail.” He disappears out of the room for a minute, returning with a letter, still talking. “Like, who even sends mail anymore? I swear werewolves live in the stone ages.”

Derek snatches the envelope Stiles is waving in his face, tearing it open to scan the letter inside.

“It’s the Robertson pack.”

“The who pack?” Stiles peers at the letter over Derek’s shoulder, trying to read along. Saving him the effort, Derek passes it over when he’s done.

“The Robertson pack took me and Laura in after the fire,” Derek explains, moving to lean against the bench. “Their Alpha, Sarah, knew my mom when they were young.”

“Why didn’t you stay with them?” Stiles asks, folding up the letter. “You and Laura lived in New York on your own. Wouldn’t it have been better to stay with another pack?”

Derek shakes his head. “I wanted to, but- Laura had just become Alpha. It made things difficult. So, we left. We kept in touch for a while, but after coming back here, after Laura’s death and everything that happened with Peter… we just lost touch.”

“Until now?” Stiles hands back the letter. “They’re asking permission to enter the territory.”

Nodding, Derek takes it, unfolding and refolding the paper carefully in his hands. “I’ve never hosted another pack before. Mom did it a couple of times.”

“What does it involve?”

“It varies depending on the pack. We would offer them a place to stay and a meal. The Robertson are old family friends so it will probably be a little more informal. More like… what does your dad do when extended family comes around?”

“He hides the good whiskey,” Stiles jokes. “But seriously, this is awesome and, as your emissary, I can help you plan.”

With a roll of his eyes, Derek turns from the kitchen. “You’re not my emissary.”

“Why not?” Stiles whines, trailing behind the werewolf. “I’d be so good at it.”

“At planning or being my emissary?”

“Por qué no los dos?” Stiles says it with an exaggerated wink, dropping back down onto the couch.

***

By six pm the rest of the pack have arrived, and the house is full of loud voices, lively conversation and laughter.

It’s taken a long time to reach this point—a point where the pack trust Derek as their Alpha, and each other. A point where a pack get together feels like… family.

Looking around the room, something swells in Derek’s chest at the sight of Kira and her swollen belly. Sandwiched between Stiles and Erica on the couch, she’s guiding their hands to feel the baby’s kicking.

His gaze flicks across Stiles, laughing at something Erica says, his head thrown back exposing the long line of his neck. A lot of this was Stiles’ doing.

Stiles was the one who had instituted pack night. He’d called it compulsory fun night. He’d begged and bullied every single one of them into gathering at the site of the old Hale house and had turned up with Lacrosse sticks and movies. He’d forced Derek to use his words when he was feeling frustrated and encouraged communication with the pack.

Derek had wanted nothing more than for the pack to bond together properly, so he had done as Stiles told him and in doing so, he’d built his confidence as an Alpha.

Stiles looks up suddenly, catching Derek’s eye from across the room, and winks, before turning back to Kira without even breaking from their conversation. Derek feels his face flush and ducks back into the kitchen to finish cooking.

This was something Derek had initiated. Everyone takes a turn providing for the pack, whether it’s a home cooked meal or take out.

Derek’s made tacos. He sets out meat and salsa and guacamole on the counter so that everyone can serve themselves and starts building his own before the literal wolves descend.

It becomes a free for all after that. Derek snatches his plate and his beer and escapes to the living room. The rest of the pack follow suit, finding places to perch and eat. The house has a more formal dining room, but they really only eat in there on special occasions, preferring to sprawl out in front of the TV.

“Hey.” Stiles drops down onto the couch beside Derek, almost toppling his tacos off his plate. He rescues one, jamming it onto his mouth and crunching down. “So, I spoke to Lydia and she said she can help with planning this pack get together thing.” He continues to talk around another mouthful of food, and it should be gross, but it’s just so Stiles.

“Uh huh.” Derek rescues Stiles’ beer before he sends it flying. “So, if Lydia’s in charge I guess should I be pulling out the tux?”

With a snort, Stiles retrieves his drink and drains the bottle. “You own a tuxedo? I don’t believe you have ever worn a suit in your life.”

“Hey, I have hidden depths,” Derek counters. “I could own a tux.”

“I’d like to see that.” Stiles smirks and brings his beer back to his lips, seemingly forgetting that the bottle is empty. He lowers it quickly, face flushing—though, maybe that’s just the glow from the TV.  Derek tries not to dwell on it.

Sometime around midnight the pack start to either filter out or upstairs. The house is big enough for everyone to stay over if need be, Derek made sure of that when building it, but he’s the only one who lives there full time—most of the pack have houses closer to town.

Derek doesn’t mind that they’re all spread out. There’s always someone over at any given time—usually Stiles. Speaking of, Stiles is sprawled out on the couch, snoring gently.

“Hey.” Derek wakes the spark gently. “You want to crash here?”

Stiles stretches on the couch, his shirt riding up to reveal the pale skin of his stomach. “Wha’ time izzit?”

“Almost one.”

“Oh.” Stiles sits up slowly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Yeah, thanks.” He shuffles off towards the downstairs bathroom and Derek finishes unpacking the dishwasher. “Can I borrow a sweater?” He asks when he returns, his hands wrapped around his body to ward off the chill in the air. It’s two weeks until Christmas and winter has finally settled across Beacon Hills.

“Sure, come on.” Derek puts the last plate away and leaves the kitchen, heading to his bedroom. Stiles follows him upstairs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed while Derek digs through his drawers. “Here.”

Stiles takes the sweater and shrugs it on over his head. They’re the same height, but Stiles is not as broad as Derek so the sweater hangs, just a little, on his lanky frame. He paws his hands up in the sleeves and flops back onto the bed.

“I’m so tired,” he whines.

“Then go find your bed,” Derek tells him, nudging Stiles to move. “This one’s mine.”

“Can’t move. Too sleepy.”

“Stiles.”

“Can’t hear you. I’m already asleep.”

With a quick shove, Derek sends Stiles tumbling to the floor.

“Rude.” Picking himself up off the floor, Stiles sticks his tongue out at Derek and trots off to his room.

***

Three days later the whole pack gathers at Derek’s house.

Lydia, as always, has outdone herself with the spread. There is enough food and meat to feed a small army and she has the wolves all rotating through shifts on the spit. The rest of the pack are put to work moving tables and chairs out onto the wide green lawn.

Up on the porch, Isaac has set up speakers to play music while they work.

“One of the wards just triggered,” Stiles says, grinning as he sets down his armload of plates and cutlery. “Must be them.”

Twenty minutes later Boyd is the first to cock his head to catch the faint rumble of a car turning on to the winding track that leads up to the house. By the time their visitors pull up onto the grass, everyone (bar Scott and Jackson on spit duty) is gathered around on the porch.

“Alpha Robertson,” Derek greets walking up to the newly arrived group.

“Alpha Hale.” The werewolf’s mouth ticks up in a smile. “It’s good to see you Derek. It’s been too long.”

“It has.” Derek returns the smile. “Sarah, this is my pack,” he says, turning and gesturing to the curious faces lining the porch. He almost knocks his hands into Stiles, who is hovering a half-step behind him.”

“Stiles Stilinski,” he says pushing forward, arm outstretched in greeting. “Pack emissary.”

Derek barely restrains rolling his eyes in front of the older Alpha, turning to hide his face under the guise of beckoning forward the rest of the pack. After they’ve made their introductions, Sarah introduces the pack to her husband and three children, Alex, Mark and Lilah.

“So, what brings you out our way?” Stiles asks as they all walk back up to the house.

“My eldest joined the Thomson pack earlier this year,” Sarah explains. “We’re heading up to visit for Christmas.”

“She’s gonna have a baby,” the youngest kid, Alex, offers shyly from behind his mom.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Stiles tells him. “So, you’re going to be an uncle. I’m going to be an uncle soon too,” he says with a conspiratorial whisper and a head nod towards Kira.

“We’re not much for flying,” Sarah continues, “and we thought the trip might be a good opportunity to visit.”

Nodding, Stiles leads the way into the house. “Derek said you were friends with Talia.”

“We’re actually related.” Sarah grins when Stiles skids to an abrupt halt. “Third cousins?”

“Through Dad,” Derek confirms.

“What?” Stiles turns to Derek. “But you said- I thought your dad was human.”

“He was.”

“Huh. Cool.”

They show their visitors to their guest rooms so they can put down their bags and then take them outside.

Dinner is a rowdy affair.

There are fifteen of them crowded around the two long tables that have been dragged onto the grass. Once the younger members of the Robertson pack, namely Alex and his older brother Mark, get over the shyness of meeting strangers it’s every man for himself as the food is laid out.

“So, who’s manning the fort back home?” Stiles asks, leaning across Derek to talk to Sarah.

“Stiles,” Derek warns, nudging the human away from his plate. “You can’t ask that, it’s not polite.”

“Oh, sorry,” Stiles says, looking genuinely apologetic, but then he barrels on anyway. “I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just this guy here-” he pauses to bat at Derek’s shoulder “-keeps telling me we can’t leave the territory unguarded whenever I try to suggest getting away for a few days.”

“It’s fine,” Sarah is quick to reassure them. “My sister is looking after things while we’re gone. And Derek’s right when it comes to new packs.”

Derek raises his eyebrows at Stiles as if to say, ‘I told you so’ and ducks another playful swipe.

“But you’ve been Alpha for what, seven years now?” She asks. “And Beacon Hills has been Hale Pack territory for, I don’t know, generations, not to mention those wards we passed on the way in.” Sarah points to Stiles. “That was you?”

Stiles nods quickly. “Yep.” He accepts the bowl of baked potatoes from Boyd. “So, what you’re saying is that Derek needs to get out more? ‘Cos that’s what I’m hearing.”

“I’m saying that it’s okay to take a break occasionally.”

Stiles laughs, his knees knocking into Derek’s under the table. “Derek doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

***

The full moon falls two days after the Robertson’s arrive and Derek invites Sarah and her family to run with them through the preserve.

It’s a Saturday and most of the pack have taken the weekend off, so they spend the day at the pack house, working off the restless energy that comes with a full moon. As the afternoon rolls on the games get rougher and someone digs out the lacrosse sticks.

“Count me in.” Stiles jogs over with Scott and Isaac and snatches up one of the sticks, twirling it in his hands.

“Is that a good idea?” Mark, the middle Robertson child, asks. “A human playing against werewolves?” He looks to Derek, tone dripping with cocky arrogance but Derek just shrugs.

“Oh, to have the confidence of a fifteen-year-old werewolf,” Stiles sighs, scooping up the ball. “I could have used some of that as a teenager.”

“Could have used some of the athleticism too,” Derek quips, knocking Stiles with one shoulder.

“Oh, you can shove it,” Stiles grins stumbling away, still in possession of the ball. “You playing or what kid?”

“Fine,” the young werewolf shrugs. “It’s your funeral.” His eyes flash gold.

“That’s not that impressive,” Stiles tells him. “I can do it too.”

“But you’re not a wolf.”

“So many doubters today.” He closes his eyes for a moment and when they re-open they shine bright with the power of his spark.

“You going to play or just keep showing off?” Boyd asks.

Stiles grins, playfully baring his teeth “Oh, it’s on.”

The moon finally breaches the horizon just after four pm. It’s not yet dark enough to go running through the preserve, but some wolves start shedding clothes and skin, sprouting fur as they shift from two legs to four.

The lacrosse game is forgotten in favour of chasing each other around the clearing.

“Don’t even think about it,” Stiles warns, backing away from Derek. “We will not be playing chase the human tonight.”

Grinning wolfishly, smile wide and full of teeth, Derek makes a big show of slowing kicking his sneakers off.

“I’m not kidding Der, I will end you.”

“Better start running,” Derek teases, pulling his shirt up over his head. From the corner of his eye, he can see the rest of his pack watching with various shades of amusement.

“Fuck you buddy.”

Derek can tell there’s no heat behind the words and Stiles is trying to hold back a smile. He’s bolting off around the house before Derek’s shirt has even hit the ground.

“Go on then,” Stiles says once it’s finally dark enough to enter the preserve. “Pick on Stiles time is over; I need a nap after that.” He sprawls out on his back in the grass, staring up at the sky. It’s a clear, cool night.

Derek stands over him, nosing at Stiles’ hair then swinging his head towards the trees. He takes a half step, waiting for Stiles to follow.

“I think I’m going to hang here with the women and children,” Stiles says, craning his head back. “I’ll just slow you down. You have fun though.” He reaches up to tangle his fingers in Derek’s coarse fur before giving him a gentle shove towards the forest. “Go on.”

With one final glance over his shoulder, Derek trots off into the trees.

***

By the time they return to the house, everyone is exhausted. Derek immediately searches out Stiles as he re-enters the clearing. He’s easy enough to find, sitting by the dying bonfire chatting to Kira. The red glowing embers illuminate their faces and cast deep shadows across the lawn.

Derek pads over to them, drawn to Stiles like a moth to flame, flopping down in the grass beside Stiles.

“Good run?” Stiles asks, slumping back so that he’s half leaning against Derek. The werewolf lets out a soft contented rumble. “Mm, glad to hear it,” Stiles mumbles around a yawn.

“Ugh, it’s late,” Kira complains from where she sits. “I think I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you boys tomorrow.” She stands with Scott’s help, and waddles back towards the house.

“I think I’m going to call it too.” Stiles pats Derek on the shoulder and stands slowly, taking the time to stretch before heading inside.

Derek waits until he’s inside before he heads off in search of his discarded clothes, still sitting and collecting dew on the grass. He shifts, picking up his sweatpants and shaking them out. He pulls them on and makes his way towards the porch.

“You should be proud of what you’ve created here.” Sarah joins him at the top of the steps. They lean against the porch railing and watch the wolves still sprawled out in the grass after the run. “You’ve built a strong pack. I know Talia would be proud of you.”

Derek ducks his head. There’s a warm feeling in his stomach at the Alpha’s words. “I didn’t think I’d find this again.” He confesses, voice low. “And, for a while I didn’t think deserved it.”

There’s a familiar footfall behind them and the comforting scent of cinnamon and vanilla.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt.” Stiles wanders up beside them. “Can I borrow a sweater?”

“Did you return the last one you ‘borrowed’?” Derek asks.

“Hey,” Stiles leans against him, one arm slung across Derek’s shoulders. “It’s not my fault your clothes are so damn comfy. If you didn’t want me taking them, you should have bought cheaper, scratchier sweaters. Ever think about that Der?”

“Fine,” Derek gives in quickly, waving Stiles off before he can launch into another tirade on the superiority of Derek’s sweaters.

“Thanks.” Stiles trots off, letting his hand trail across Derek’s back.

“You guys are good together,” Sarah says, her voice warm. “You’re lucky to have found a mate like Stiles.”

“Mm,” Derek nods, eyes following Stiles back towards the house. The words sink in and he freezes, mind frantically replaying every interaction he’s had with Stiles over the last few days, wondering how they could have possibly given her that impression.

Stiles is- he’s Stiles. He’s funny and smart and kind and— they’re not mates, no matter how much Derek might wish otherwise.

Still, he doesn’t correct her.

Instead, he makes some mumbled excuse about being tired and escapes to his bedroom.

That, at least, is the truth. It’s been a long night and now the sun is just beginning to peek up over the horizon. Derek feels as though he could sleep for a week as he climbs the stairs to the second level and throws his bedroom door open ready to crawl beneath the covers.

“Stiles.” He nudges the lump half hidden under the covers. “This isn’t your bed.”

The younger man murmurs something unintelligible and rolls onto his side.

With a sigh, Derek pulls back the covers, and climbs into bed.

***

He’s warm when he wakes.

So, very warm.

There’s a line of cinnamon scented heat pressed down the length his chest. Lying there in the soft space between sleep and wakefulness, Derek feels more comfortable that he ever has in his life.

And then the warm body in front of him shifts and Derek is suddenly very aware that Stiles is that warm body. He must have pulled him in to his chest at some point while they slept.

Carefully drawing back the arm that had been casually slung across Stiles’ waist, Derek wiggles back on the bed so that he’s no longer pressed up against his packmate. The sheets are gathered around their waists, hiding Derek’s rather unfortunate issue, but it doesn’t hide the pale expanse of skin where Stiles’ sweater has ridden up over his side.

With a bitten-off sigh Derek rolls out of bed and stumbles across to the bathroom.

He stands, head bowed beneath the spray and lets the pounding water rinse away the dirt and sweat that still clung from the full moon run. He tries not to think about the fact he’s still hard, and lets his mind drift, but his thoughts keep coming back to Stiles, stretched out in Derek’s own bed.

With one hand coming up to brace against the wall, Derek palms himself with the other. He allows a single flash of guilt before letting his thoughts drift back to the bed, to the hollow of Stiles throat. He starts slow, working up to a quick rhythm and biting back a soft moan.

He’s close, the pleasure starting to pool in his gut and Derek increases the pace. His mind wanders to the dip of Stiles’ hips between the ruched-up shirt and the low-slung sleep shorts. His own hips jerk in short aborted thrusts and he comes with a swallowed curse.

After washing away the evidence, Derek cuts the running water and reaches for a towel.

Stiles is still asleep when Derek re-enters the room, so he dresses quickly and slips out the door. The house is quiet, with most wolves having only gone to bed a few hours ago, but there’s a soft clatter of someone moving about downstairs.

“You’re up early,” Derek says, stepping into the kitchen.

Scott stifles a yawn with the back of his hand and gestures to the coffee maker that has just beeped. “The baby is awake,” he mutters, reaching for the pot. “Which means Kira is awake, which means I am awake.” He pours himself a generous serving, filling the mug up to the rim, then passes the pot over. “Why are you up?”

“Sarah thinks Stiles is my mate.” The words come out in a rush.

“Yeah? And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?”

“I mean…” Scott looks uncertain. “What’s the problem? Was that all she said?”

“She said we’re good together.”

“Okay.”

“Scott.”

“What?” Scott leans back against the counter. “You are! You’re like the pack mom and dad.”

Derek waves him off. “Stiles doesn’t even like me like that!”

Scott scoffs against the rim of his mug. “What are you talking about? Stiles is crazy about you.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Dude, can’t you smell it? He’s like, super aroused around you, like all the time.”

“That’s just Stiles’ scent. He always smells like that.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Derek’s expression goes blank. “He doesn’t?”

Shaking his head, Scott continues. “It’s only when he’s around you… or talking about you… or thinking about you. It’s super gross.”

“I didn’t know.”

“He’s over here all the time! He’s asleep in your bed right now- don’t give me that look, you reek of Stiles.” Scott refills his mug and moves to pat Derek on the arm. “He likes you man, like, really, really likes you. Honestly, you’d have to be blind not to see it.”

***

The Robertson pack head off the next morning once everyone is well rested. There are fewer people around to see them off— Scott had been called in to an emergency at the vet and Erica had dragged Boyd off to visit her parents.

“It was really good to see you Derek. Please don’t be a stranger.” Derek lets himself be bundled up in a hug before Sarah moves on to say goodbye to the rest of the pack. “Stiles, you make sure to remind that stubborn mate of yours to take a break every now and then.”

Watching from the corner of his eye, Derek can’t quite read Stiles’ facial expression. If he’s surprised, he certainly doesn’t say anything, just returns the Alpha’s hug and cheerfully waves until the car disappears down the driveway.

Once they’re gone, Derek makes his excuses and escapes to his bedroom. Despite Scott’s assurances, he still hasn’t said anything to Stiles.

“We need to talk.”

Derek starts so badly at the voice in his room. “How do you keep getting in?” He asks, turning to face the doorway.

“Magic.”

“Still not funny.”

“Uh, it’s hilarious,” Stiles says, grinning.

“The door was locked Stiles.”

“I know, figured you were either moping about something or jerking off. Decided to take my chances.” He walks into the room, shutting the door behind him and leans against the far wall. “Anyway, you’re dressed, so you probably weren’t jerking off, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’ve been avoiding me since yesterday, something’s wrong.” He’s still smiling, but Stiles’ scent has turned tart with concern.

“It was nothing, just something Alpha Robertson said.”

“I like her.” Stiles gazes at Derek thoughtfully. He pushes away from the wall and crosses the room to sit on the bed. “She seems like a good Alpha.”

“She is.”

“You’re a good Alpha too.”

Derek smiles, ducking his head. It’s high praise coming from Stiles.

“A little clueless sometimes...”

The smile drops from his face.

“Let me guess.” Stiles leans forward, his arms braced against his knees. “Your current mopey face has something to do with what Sarah said before?”

Derek can’t look at him, he stares at the patterns in the carpet instead.

“The other night, she called us mates and you didn’t correct her.”

Derek’s stomach drops as his head jerks up. “You heard that?”

“It wasn’t exactly whispered. She said it right as I was leaving. Why-” Stiles swallows audibly. “Why didn’t you correct her?”

Letting out the breath he’s been holding, Derek asks, “Why didn’t you?”

He watches Stiles’ face carefully, scrutinising every little expression that flickers across his face in that second, reading the exact moment he makes up his mind with the slight lift of one brow and the uptick at the corners of his mouth.

“I wanted it to be true.”

Derek can only imagine what his own face must look like, caught someplace between shock and joy at Stiles’ words. His grin is probably bordering on manic when he says, “me too.”

“Oh. That’s-” Stiles licks his lips and tries again. “Good. That’s good. I’m, uh-” His gaze flick from Derek’s eyes to his lips. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Stiles’ hand hooks into the Derek’s shirt, drawing him in. Fingers tangle in his hair and then Stiles’ lips are on his, warm and urgent.

When they pull away from each other Stiles laughs, knocking his knees into Derek’s.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so fucking long.

*Epilogue*

The glare from the window falls right across Derek’s face and he shifts, slowly surfacing from the depths of sleep. He drags his arm up to cover his face, provoking a grunt from the person who’d been using it as a pillow.

Stiles shifts, rolling over to blink up at Derek.

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

Derek throws his arm over Stiles’ hip, dragging him in so their bodies are flush. “You’re in my bed.”

“Nuh uh, it’s my bed now,” Stiles teases sleepily, stealing a quick kiss before tucking his head under Derek’s chin.  “Oh.” He pulls away suddenly and rolls to the edge of the bed, leaning over to rummage around underneath it. Sitting back up, he holds out a present wrapped in brightly coloured paper. “Happy birthday.”

Derek sits up against the pillows and takes the parcel. “Thank you.”

“I got you a Christmas present too,” Stiles says. “But you can’t open it until we get to Dad’s.” He gestures for Derek to unwrap the paper. “It’s not much.”

“It’s perfect.”

[mikkomacko]

Sweet As Honey 11

Harry had heard a sniffle like that before. He'd heard the unmistakable hiccup of her crying, and the stuttering breathes of her heart aching. But he had never come home to her in such a state.

It's normal to come home to her curled up in his bed, with one of his hoodies and sweatpants on. Sometimes she'd be asleep, or she'd have a movie on like she does right now. However, she's never sat on his bed, body jerking with hiccups against his pillow she's holding, and tears streaming down her red cheeks.

"Darling," he gasps softly, dropping his gym bag at the foot of his bed and kneeing his way up the duvet to where she's huddled against the headboard. He plops down facing her, crossing his legs and reaching forward to cup her face in his left hand. He pushes her hair out of her face with the other, wiping at the tears on her cheeks. "hey," he rouses when she doesn't respond. "what's going on? What's the matter?"

His heart pounds in his chest, spreading panic throughout his body until his stomach is twisting uncomfortably and his head is spinning. It doesn't help when y/n meets his eyes, sniffling harshly, and biting at her wobbly bottom lip. Harry doesn't know if she's not answering because she doesn't want to, or if she can't speak around the harsh breaths and hiccups leaving her lips.

She whimpers heartbreakingly when he lodges his hand under her thighs, pulling her into his lap. Without hesitation her legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his middle, and her head falls against his shoulder. Harry rubs his palm between her shoulder blade and cups her bum in the other, patting his fingers rhythmically. To his dismay, she still says nothing. Her tears soak into his sweatshirt, and her snot and breath stain his neck but he doesn't care because it's y/n, and she's always taken care of him, and he loves her.

Harry lets her cry, doing all he can to soothe her by rubbing away the knots on her back and pressing kiss after kiss to the crown of her head. "You're okay baby, we're okay. I've got ya and I'll never let anything hurt ya." He soothes, feeling a little calmer with her against his chest. There's no safer place for her to be then right next to the heart that beats for her.

She's squished against him so tightly he's sure she's having a tough time breathing and her hiccups aren't doing her any favors, but he can still hear her when she finally speaks. "P-papa's sick,"

Another round of blubbering cuts her off, body raking with sobs. Harry does nothing to shush her. He holds her, absorbing her heartbreaking whimpers and trying to ignore the sadness seeping into his own heart. Yeah he loves y/n's grandfather, he's the main reason Steve and Marie approve of Harry now, but he's y/n's grandfather. It hurts him, but it sure as hell hurts her a lot more. Besides, he doesn't even know how sick Papa is.

Eventually, the tv gets stuck on Netflix's 'still watching' screen, and Harry's feet go numb, and y/n's cries fade into shakey breathes. She rubs against his shoulder like a kitten, yawning dejectedly, and he decides it's bedtime for them. They can talk about Papa in the morning.

He manages to keep y/n in his lap as he manuevers to the end of the bed and rises, holding her a bit tighter. Her legs and arms lock around him like a baby koala, keeping steady while he uses one hand to tug down the blankets on the bed and rearrange the pillows.

She's reluctant, clinging to his shirt when he lays her on the bed. "S'okay," Harry assures. "s'all ok darling. Getting in bed with ya, I promise."

Her fingers unlatch from his shirt, falling limp on her tummy, and she looks up at him through wet eyelashes and bleary eyes. Harry quickly wiggles out of his pants and tugs off his shirt, keeping his gaze locked on y/n. It's heartbreaking seeing her hurt, but Harry can't help but coo over her. It's usually the other way around with them. Harry always curled up under the covers and drenched in tears while y/n holds him and comforts him. He's just grateful that he gets to take care of her in return.

"Harry,"

"Coming baby," Harry murmurs, climbing over her with a brief pause to kiss her forehead before falling to the mattress next to her. She rolls into his side, laying her head on the inside of his bicep and latching her limbs around him like she had before. He tilts his down to look at her, wiping at the blotchy cheek of hers that's not pressed to his skin.

"What if something bad happens to him?"

His heart throbs at the fear in her voice. He knows how much Papa means to her. He was her babysitter after school up until she was 16. He taught her and Louis to play soccer. He gave her her first art kit when she was a kid. He took her to her first baseball game. He's been get biggest supporter and fan of her work up until Harry came around, and even then he sometimes outdid Harry. Papa is her hero.

"I can't lay here and tell you nothing will happen," he murmurs, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. "because we don't know. But I can promise you that you'll always have me. I'll take ya to baseball games and I'll paint with ya and I'll always always always love and take care of ya."

Her bottom lip wobbles, but she still manages to give him a tiny albeit grateful smile. "You promise?"

"Course I promise," he grins, endeared by the pleading look in her eyes. She really thinks he'd ever do anything but care for her? "M'marrying ya. Hope you wouldn't marry someone who wouldn't take care of ya."

She giggles wetly, tears welling up again. Harry knows not to panic this time. She's safe in his arms and he knows crying it all out will make her feel better. He cups the back of her head, pulling her closer to peck her forehead.

"S'okay to cry baby. You'll feel a little better after," she wiggles closer to him until she's practically burrowed in his neck. "and you always sleep so good after you cry too."

True to his word, y/n cries herself out until she's foggy and heavy with sleep, curled up on Harry's warm chest while he plays with her hair. He stays awake for a bit longer, watching The Office through bleary eyes just in case she wakes up still crying. And in the morning, when she wakes up with puffy eyes and a headache, eyes still blurry with tears, he runs her a warm bath and takes her for a cruise to Benny's Drive In, swearing that he's going to spend every day for the rest of his life pampering her. Papa or not, he'll make sure she still has someone to call her hero.

~

The tile is cold under Harry's bare feet, despite the heater being set on high, and he huffs because he should have just brought a pair of socks down with him when he first got up. As if knowing what he's thinking, y/n giggles from her spot on the floor.

"Why don't you come sit by the fire with us?"

Harry shrugs, setting his tea mug on the coffee table and slipping down to the carpet next to y/n and Arlo. Arlo squeals happily, grinning at Harry as he wobbles on chubby legs, y/n holding his little hands to keep him from falling. He's just recently taught himself to stand up with the help of the couch or coffee table or the legs of whoever's closest. He reaches for Arlo's hands, y/n happily passing him over and then gripping his torso to help him wobble over to Harry.

"Look at you bug!" Harry cheers, feeling a little watery at the sight of his baby now standing. "Gettin' so big aren't ya?"

Arlo giggles, happy to have Harry's attention (he's always greedy when it comes to Harry), and bounces up and down. Harry laughs, heart mushy when y/n lays her head on his shoulder and traces her fingers up and down his thigh. He's glad y/n's pregnant, because he can't imagine how sad it'd make him feel to see Arlo growing up without knowing for sure that they'd be doing the baby thing again.

"Snowing cats and dogs out there." Gemma says, making her presence in the living room known. Harry glances at her, offering a nod in good morning and mentally agreeing that it's snowing quite a bit outside. They went to bed last night to the beginning of tiny flakes and woke up this morning to a blanket of snow and big fluffy flakes still falling.

"I don't think that's the saying Gem." Anne says lightly, following her eldest into the living room. Both Harry and y/n chuckle, Arlo picking up on the sound and letting out a laugh of his own.

"Well good morning Mr. Arlo!" Gemma gasps, sitting on the couch closest to the fireplace.

"Hi," Arlo babbles, a little string of drool dripping down his chin. Y/n laughs, using the bib around his neck to wipe it off.

"He's awful happy this morning." Anne comments, knowing that Arlo's usually quiet and grumpy in the morning, a gift passed onto him from his mother.

"That's 'cause he slept with daddy last night, huh?"

Arlo bounces as if to say yes, stumbling a bit closer to Harry. "S'a good thing we got some good sleep last night. Gotta a busy week ahead of us."

Arlo tugs one of his hands out of Harry's, reaching towards his chest with a tiny whine of "da!" Harry lifts him into his lap, lips twitching into a smile when Arlo rests against his chest.

"Wear yourself out bub?" He laughs, patting Arlo's bum as he climbs to his feet to sit on the couch. He offers a hand to y/n, helping her to her feet so she can sit with him.

"We've got something to ask you," Harry tells Anne and Gemma, subtly wincing when Arlo squirms around his lap, feet dangerously close to stepping on his crotch.

"Oh?" Gemma says curiously, sitting up straighter and focusing on Harry. It's been a bit since they're talk and he knows they're waiting for him to bring up the topic again, but it's still a bit amusing to see them both so rigid over what Harry's planning to ask them.

"Every year my family travels to Colorado for the week before Christmas. It's sort of our early celebration since we've all kinda grown into our own traditions on Christmas," y/n explains, smiling fondly. Harry knows how much fun she has on this family vacation. She loves it so much that last year when they couldn't fly to Colorado since she was pregnant, he drove her across the country because he knows how much it means to her. The only time she's given it up was to come back home early to spend Christmas with Harry because she didn't want him being alone.

"We've talked to Steve and Marie and we all think it'd be nice if you two could come with us." Harry finishes, smirking at the surprise on their faces.

"Y-you want us to go?"

"We all want you to go." Y/n tells Anne, shrugging it off like it's not a big deal that they invite Anne and Gemma.

"We'd love to." Gemma accepts, biting her lip to contain her smile. It's been awhile since she's had a family oriented Christmas and the fact that it's Harry that's pulling them all together is bittersweet.

"On one condition," Harry quickly adds, "you gotta help us get the house together this week, yeah?"

Both of them nod in sync, grinning like two kids on Christmas. Harry's not really sure what to say now but he doesn't have to worry about it because Arlo's pushing away from his chest to look at Harry's face, shouting "da!" at him before shoving his fingers into Harry's mouth. Harry grips his little wrist, pulling Arlo's hand back as he pretends to nibble on Arlo's little fingers with exaggerated gobbling noises.

Arlo squeals with laughs, smacking his other hand to Harry's stubbly cheek. "What do you want?"

"Peas!" Arlo giggles, slurring the 'p' a bit. Harry laughs, excusing himself to take Arlo to the kitchen for baby cereal. He hasn't quite figured out that peas means the vegetable and not all food.

"Thanks for saving daddy bug," he murmurs, taking Arlo to his high chair. Arlo giggles again, smacking at Harry's cheek again. He takes it as a 'you're welcome daddy.'

~

The lights around the house went up, kudos to Harry and Gemma for working together to attach icicle lights to the roof, and outlined the windows and doors with garland filled lights, and covered the bushes surrounding the house with net-lights. Anne and y/n worked on the inside, lining the stair case and mantel with garland, putting up the tree Harry had brought home after work the other day, and putting out the multiple Christmas throw blankets they owned. Per tradition, y/n left the star for Harry to put up and the stockings, three new ones now hanging with theirs.

Y/n, Gemma, and Anne worked on baking cookies and special treats to leave for Nick and Lionel since they're watching the house for the week, while Harry ran out to the hardware store to get the main baby-proofing objects. Now that Arlo's getting closer to walking and tearing up the house with all his crawling it needs to be done and they know they won't have time to take care of it when they come back since it'll be Christmas.

It wasn't until they're sat in the nursery, Arlo buttoned into a blue onesie patterned with snowmen, attached to y/n's breast for his bedtime meal while Harry packed Arlo's suitcase, that she realizes she's fucking exhausted. So exhausted her bones feel like lead and her head swoop. She thinks she could sleep for the next two days.

"Just need enough diapers for the trip right? We'll get a pack when we get there?"

Y/n mumbles a "yeah," adjusting Arlo so she can burp him now that he's done eating. Fixing the rag on her shoulder, she rises to her feet, bouncing a bit while she pats his back.

"Maybe a few extra? Probably won't want run to the store after traveling all day." Harry asks but he's already tucking extra diapers into the bag. Y/n comes up to him, bouncing next to him as he packs the crocheted booties they got to keep Arlo extra warm in Colorado.

He zips up the bag, pulling it off of the changing table and laying it next to Arlo's little Mickey Mouse printed suitcase. Y/n tosses the soiled burp rag in the hamper, patting Arlo through his diaper to help him get to sleep. By the time Harry gets the dresser and closet closed, and the nightlight switched on, Arlo's fast asleep on her shoulder, subconsciously mouthing at her tee-shirt.

"Little bugger," Harry whispers affectionately, running the tips of his fingers up and down Arlo's back. Y/n gives him a tired smile, one that has Harry frowning because it's been awhile since he's seen her this exhausted. "let's get him a binky and get you two to bed."

She lets Harry carefully pull Arlo off her shoulder, laying him in the crook of his arm. Arlo frowns, lips parting and closing as he searches for something to suck on. Harry grabs one of the clean pacifiers out of the container on the dresser, slipping it between Arlo's mouthing lips.

He chuckles quietly when he feels y/n lean into his back, arms holding his waist loosely, and he doesn't have to see her face to know her eyes are closed. A smirk still plays on his lips as he lays Arlo in his crib, tucking Bunny next to him, and turning to his wife. She murmurs a little protest when he jolts her, rubbing the tip of her nose back and forth between his pecks when she's finally able to rest on him again.

"Why am I so tired?" She murmurs sadly, and Harry chuckles because he can recall a number of times when they were in this same situation during her pregnancy with Arlo.

"'Cause ma little pea is draining ya, darling. Need to sleep, especially after all the work you did this week."

"Little pea? I think it's a little green bean."

Harry dramatically gags, twirling her hair around his finger as she giggles drowsily. "S'my baby. Know it's a pea."

She hums, and he decides it's time to get her to bed. They can make sure they've taken care of everything in the morning, after she's rested. "Up," he instructs, waiting for her arms to go slack, and when they do he easily tugs her up around his waist. Much like Arlo, she snuggles into his neck, legs around his waist as he checks on Arlo once more before exiting the nursery. It's fairly easy get y/n into their bed considering she's been in pajamas all day and they haven't made their bed all week.

He's crawling into bed next to her, pecking her forehead sweetly when she blinks her eyes open, grinning fondly. "Wha'?" Harry chuckles.

"Always take care of me, don't ya?"

"Promised I would."

~

The chemicals burn his nose and throat, but he ignores it in favor of leading y/n to room 216 so she can get a little peace of mind. She's clutching to his hand, squeezing his fingers tightly and he can feel them trembling between his.

Her parents had stayed in the waiting room with Louis, giving her a chance to come see Papa on her own. Harry was prepared to stay behind too until she'd flashed him pleading, puppy eyes.

Room 216 comes up on their left, the lights inside dimmed and the sound of an old Looney Toons cartoon spilling out from the crack in the door. Harry glances behind him at y/n, waiting to make sure she's okay. Her eyes have glossed over and she's nibbling at her chapped bottom lip but she nods firmly. He knocks once, pushing the door open for them to enter.

Papa lays in the hospital bed, looking smaller than Harry's ever seen him even though he dwarfs the bed, feet hanging off the bottom. He's got oxygen running through tubes into his nose, helping him breathe. Despite the bags under his eyes and the Parkinson's that makes his lips tremble, he smiles at Harry and y/n, the same warm smile he's seen on his girl's face a million times.

"Come on in," Papa croaks, waving them forward with a hand that twitches every minute or so.

Y/n tip toes around Harry, looking at her grandfather with tear filled eyes. She stays glued to his side as if getting too close will make Papa turn to dust.

Their eyes meet, Papa's face falling at the sight of his granddaughter all teary and sad. "Oh y/n," he sighs and that's all it takes to have her crying again. She practically tackles Harry with how hard she presses into his side, gripping his jacket in her hands as her cries fill the room. Harry holds her, smiling sadly at Papa.

"We're a little emotional right now," he explains. "just love ya too much I guess."

Papa smiles gratefully, and knowing that y/n can't talk when she cries decides to tell Harry all the things he would say to y/n.

"No such thing as too much love," Papa chuckles. "and I'm thankful for all the love that's been given to me. I'm okay being here knowing that I had a life of love."

He can feel y/n rotate a little, clearly listening to everything Papa's saying. "We haven't had enough of you." Harry murmurs, stroking y/n's back.

"I've lived my life," he shrugs, "I got to spend so many years with my wife. Got to raise a beautiful family. Passed on stories and lessons to all of you. I couldn't ask for anything else."

"But I don't want you to go!" Y/n sobs into Harry's side, sniffling loudly. Him and Papa exchange similar sad gazes.

"It's okay to be sad y/n, but please don't be angry or selfish." He gently requests. "I want to see what's next. I want to see your grandmother again. I want to see my parents again. You're with your soulmate, let me be with mine please."

They stay quiet, Harry rocking y/n back and forth on her feet until she's calmed down enough to look at Papa. She's still crying, but she nods at his words, squeezing Harry tighter as if trying to confirm that he is, in fact her soulmate.

Harry proves it to her too, doing all in his power to keep her as happy as possible in the following days in which Papa returns to his soulmate, and y/n is left with hers.

~

They had thought the week at home, running around to make sure everything was ready, was hectic. It was nothing compared to the day of traveling they had. An accident on the highway and an emergency diaper change during TSA had left them stranded at the airport, watching bitterly through the windows as their flight took off without them.

3 hours later in which Harry scheduled everything just right for the next flight while Arlo squirmed and whined in his arms but would cry when he put him down, and napping on uncomfortable chairs, and having to eat airport food, they had made it on their flight. Arlo's car seat was strapped into the middle seat but he absolutely wouldn't sit it, instead opting for standing on Harry's lap while he bounced or napping on y/n's chest. It makes Harry wish they had just checked the stupid thing instead of buying an extra ticket because now he couldn't cuddle up on them with the big plastic seat between them. They had a layover in Dallas, one that was supposed to just drop off a few passengers, refuel, and leave again turned into an hour and a half wait because the tarmac was backed up. Harry had taken the chance to switch seats with Arlo's car seat, grumbling as he squished into the middle seat.

"Stop with the noises, you sound just like this one." Y/n teased through a sleepy smile and sure enough Arlo was sat on her lap, grumpy noises leaving him as he tugged and whipped Bunny's ears around.

"Whatever," he grumbled, relaxing a bit as the plane began to move. As the plane moved faster, Arlo immediately crawled out of y/n's lap and into Harry's, face burrowing into his neck. Their first takeoff had Arlo digging his nails into Harry's bicep and tugging at his necklace until Harry had to swat his hand away before he broke it. Arlo had immediately wailed, more hurt by Harry's scolding then by the swat, and squirmed his way into y/n's hold. Apparently he's still pretty hurt with Harry, biting into his shoulder at the peak of liftoff, and when Harry finally pulls him off he just pouts at Harry with no remorse. Harry had huffed, settling Arlo in his lap as y/n set up her laptop on the tray so they could watch a movie. Things got a bit better after that, Arlo falling asleep and he got to snuggle against y/n while Captain Marvel played in front of them.

By the time they landed in Denver, night had fallen and the roads up the mountains had frozen so Harry had to drive extra careful which also meant extra slow. Gemma switched with him halfway, feeling bad that he'd put the whole trip together and paid for it, so her and Anne took over the front seat, not minding that him and y/n passed out in the backseat.

They arrived at the family cabin around midnight, Steve and Marie being the only two awake. Steve and Harry took the suitcases in, while Marie showed Anne and Gemma to their room (they had to share), while y/n took Arlo to their room upstairs for a quick bath and then put him to bed. She was tucking him into the queen bed in the room when Harry brought up the last of their bags, glad the room was warm because he's too tired to dig through his suitcase for clothes. Almost in sync, him and y/n strip of their clothes, tossing them into a pile with Arlo's clothes to be picked up tomorrow, and climbed into bed with Arlo.

"How's the shoulder?" y/n whispered in the darkness, reaching over Arlo to poke at the shoulder Arlo had nibbles on earlier.

"S'fine, no thanks to this little bugger." He huffed, rolling his eyes but when y/n giggled, he brought Arlo to his chest because he knows Arlo sleeps wonderfully there and he could use a good night's sleep after his first time traveling. Y/n squirmed closer to him, her and Arlo's warm skin wrapping Harry in a nice little cocoon. He fell asleep that night, not minding how hectic the day had been because he's got his family with him.

~

Harry wakes up to Arlo snoring in his ear, sweaty skin stuck to his chest, and y/n burrowed under the covers, head on his stomach. He's not really sure how she got there and he's a little worried she can't breathe so he carefully pulls her back up his torso until her head is out from under the covers.

His phone tells him it's 8 A.M. and usually he'd peel himself out of bed to start working on breakfast for his babies but he can smell sausage coming from downstairs and he knows someone else has got it covered. And because it's vacation (and snowing outside) Harry let's himself fall back into the pillows, joining Arlo in his snoring.

~

Marie is at the stove, switching between flipping sausage links and scrambling eggs. A quick glance around the open kitchen and living room shows that Marie is alone, and Anne is quick to take the opportunity. Noticing the loaf of bread on the counter, she clears her throat to gain Marie's attention.

"Good morning Anne," she greets, pulling a couple sausages out of the pan, sizzling as she lays them on a plate.

"Good morning," Anne responds, stepping into the kitchen. "would you like help with breakfast?"

"Oh," Marie gasps, and Anne's a little offended at the surprise in her tone but she supposes she deserves it. "sure. We need to get some toast done."

Anne busies herself with popping bread in the toaster, watching Marie out of the corner of her eye as she scoops a pile of eggs onto a plate and moves to finish the sausage.

"Marie?"

"Yes?"

Anne sets down the piece of toast she was buttering, lacing her fingers together to keep them from fiddling with the bottom of her shirt. "I just wanted to thank you for taking care of Harry."

Marie stills at her words, turning around to face Anne with a quirked eyebrow. Anne smiles nervously, "He wasn't your son to care for and yet, you still did. You've done so much more for him than I ever could and I'm so grateful for it.

"I have a feeling he wouldn't be the man he is today if it weren't for you and your family, and I'm just so unbelievably lucky that you saved him from my mistakes."

Marie looks Anne up and down, lips pursed off to the left in that same way y/n's do. After a beat of silence, Marie responds. "I wasn't a fan of Harry when he first came around. He was always suspiciously quiet, and twitchy, and he always had these random injuries-this was before I knew he was a boxer-but I knew he was a good man. And I knew he was a broken child. Every mother can recognize a hurt kid.

"Don't thank me for accepting and loving Harry. Thank y/n for turning him into someone who is open to accepting love. If it weren't for her, he wouldn't have stuck around anywhere."

Anne is speechless. She knows that y/n is the godsend that saved her boy. She knows that y/n is the person to thank for taking care of him. But it didn't feel right not thanking Marie, who obviously means a great deal to Harry.

Marie smirks at the look on Anne's face (no doubt it's a clueless one), clearly amused. She uncrosses her arms, crossing the kitchen to Anne and enveloping her in a hug. Anne, stiffly, hugs her back.

"We all make mistakes. Don't be too hard yourself, he's been taken care of."

~

The fire crackles and pops, spewing out little glowing specks of wood. Charlie jumps at the loud noise, elbowing Lacy who's sat at the table next to him, sending a messy line of red frosting across her green Christmas tree cookie. She gasps, glaring at Charlie who just stares back wide-eyed.

"Uncle Harry!" She whines, picking up her messy cookie and climbing off the chair. Harry tries not to smile at how cute she is, leaning forward as she pads over in a Hello Kitty onesie.

"What's wrong moppet?"

She holds out her cookie to him, bottom lip trembling with either sadness or anger. "Charlie made my cookie for Santa messy."

"Oh no," he gasps, pretending he didn't just see Charlie accidentally bump her. "well that won't do. That's ok, we'll fix it, yeah?"

He takes the cookie in one hand, wrapping the other around Lacy and lifting her as he stands. She slinks her little arms around his neck, still pouting at her cookie.

"Oh no," y/n coos, stopping in her tracks as she takes in Lacy teary eyes. "why the long face?"

"Look at my cookie auntie!"

Harry chuckles, holding the cookie out of for y/n to see. Compared to the rest of the jagged and splotchy frosting Lacy piled on, she can't really tell which part of the decorations isn't supposed to be there. Either way she pouts, "good thing Uncle Harry can fix it huh?"

Lacy nods, letting Harry place her at the table. He sits with her, looking up through his eyelashes when y/n places his tea mug on the table next to him. "Thanks darling," he murmurs, grinning when she lays a hand on his shoulder, leaning over to peck his forehead, swollen stomach brushing against his arm. She hums a 'mhm' in return, groaning softly as she falls into the dining table chair next to Charlie.

"Okay?" Harry asks, using his pinky finger to scrape off the line of frosting. His tongue pokes out of the corner of his lips, too concentrated to look up at y/n.

"Feet hurt, but I'm okay."

Finishing up his uncle duties, he offers her a sympathetic smile while she opens a blue tube of sprinkles for Charlie. He makes a mental note to massage her feet for her before bed, and then he's presenting Lacy with her cookie. "Ta-da!"

She squeals, bouncing in her seat as she eagerly grabs more sprinkles off the glass table. Harry climbs up from his seat, moving to the other side so he can sit right next to y/n. She finishes setting up Charlie with another cookie, placing his finished one on the tray for Santa.

"Come here darling," Harry requests softly, reaching out for her. Greedily but tenderly, he pulls her between his parted thighs, sitting her on his lap. He holds her hip, cradling her back in the crook of his elbow, while his other hand comes to rest on her belly.

"Havin' fun babysitting?" She murmurs, running her hand up his chest and twirling her fingers through his hair.

"Always love taking care of kids with ya. S'why m'planning on raising a bunch with ya."

She giggles at his smirk, rolling her eyes playfully. He had whined about not having alone time earlier when y/n offered for them to stay back at the cabin and babysit while the others went bar hopping. Apparently, Harry has no recollection of that happening.

"We'll have ours here next year." She whispers as if it's a secret that they're expecting their son in two months. Her bottom lip catches between her teeth, holding back the beaming smile that had started to take over her face. Harry shakes his head, rubbing his nose against hers so she'll release her lip. She does, pressing a smiling kiss against his lips.

"Gonna spoil the fuck outta him for Christmas, aren't we?"

"Language!" She harshly whispers, lips still upturned. He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. If Charlie or Lacy had heard, they'd definitely be screaming at him for being naughty. "But yes we are."

Harry sighs, heart flipping excitedly. Their son has no idea he's being born into such an amazing family.

~

Turns out, Arlo is not a fan of vacationing or the snow. It's not his first time being in the snow, back home they get snow all the way through March, but he had never been bundled up in a little green snowsuit and his Packers beanie, and taken out to play in it.

Maybe the higher altitude was hitting him like it hits Harry, since both of them seemed to drag through the week with swollen eyes and sleepy pouts, needing at least one nap a day or they'll get too grumpy to handle and y/n will send them to bed with warm milk.

Whatever it was, he was absolutely not having it with the snow. No matter how many layers Harry wrapped him in or how many times he held him to his chest while they slid down the hill on a sled, he would cry and cry, tugging on Harry's necklace or scarf until Harry would zip him up in his jacket. That seemed to be the only place he liked to be. Warm and snuggly against Harry's chest, little arms slinking under his sweater.

"Someone's not too happy to be out here." Chloe pouts, reaching between the gap in Harry's coat to stroke a gloved finger against his cheek. Arlo huffs, turning his head the other way so he's hiding in Harry's arm. He sighs, adjusting Arlo's beanie so his ears stay warm.

"He's been pretty grumpy the whole week. Bit the hell out of me on our flight."

Chloe chuckles knowingly, nudging his elbow. She nods over to the hill where the others are sledding. "Think those two are having enough fun for him."

Y/n and Louis are squished on the kids sled, sliding down the hill and over the small ramp they made of packed snow. They reach the bottom, y/n throwing Louis off her lap and he immediately sprints (more like waddles) back up the hill, even pushing over Charlie and Lacy as he goes.

"Louis Tomlinson!" Chloe scolds, glaring at him when he gives her those same innocent doe eyes and tiny smirk y/n uses on Harry.

They stay outside for a bit more, Harry still unable to wrap his mind around the fact that the little Grinch in his arms is the child of the Buddy The Elf that's enjoying sledding far more than any adult he knows.

When they do decide to head back inside, the rest of the family is working on grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch with tomato soup to warm the kiddies (and y/n and Louis). Harry takes Arlo upstairs, starting a warm shower for them and y/n joins, clinging to Harry's naked body the same way Arlo is, giggling as she rubs her cold nose against his shoulder.

They take turns holding Arlo while the other washes up, and Harry does his best to wash Arlo but the little one is practically plastered to his chest, pressing his left cheek strongly against his chest as if he's trying to press himself physically inside his heart. By the time they get out, Arlo's drowsy in Harry's arms, only needing a little rocking to get to sleep. They leave him in the bed upstairs with the baby monitor on, heading downstairs for food.

Arlo sleeps longer than they usually let him, but with how cranky he's been they want him to get his rest. Maybe he'll wake up a happy baby. Steve and Louis invite Harry to go to town for a drink or two, since last year he had to stay home with y/n. She pouted at not being able to go, and when Louis jokingly said "maybe next time you'll tell your husband to wrap it up" she had thrown a couch pillow at him. Even so, she told Harry to go and that she'd be fine with the girls. So he left, kissing y/n on the mouth twice and waving buy to Anne, Gemma, and the kids who were watching a movie, hoping they have ad much fun together as him and the boys.

~

Harry shouldn't have gone out. He did have fun, it's been awhile since he got to spend time with just Louis and Steve, but if he knew the mess he'd be coming home to, he would've declined the invitation.

Kicking snow off his boots, Harry pushes open the front door, expecting to be greeted by Christmas music or laughs or maybe Arlo snoring on the couch where he'd be cuddled up with his mumma. Instead, they're greeted with the frowns of Charlie and Lacy in the living room, trying to play games but the wall shaking cries of Arlo are interrupting them. Harry steps inside, frowning as the thumps of his heart gradually increase because that's not just a grumpy cry coming from his baby, that's a cry of pain.

He kicks off his boots, finding y/n and Chloe in the kitchen where Arlo's wails are coming from. There's a small break in his screaming, one in which the most heart-shattering, longing cry of "dada" sounds throughout the room, Arlo's little voice scratchy and broken. Harry rushes forward, air knocked out of him from the sound of Arlo crying for him.

"What'sa matter?" Harry says, leaning over Chloe to see what's wrong with Arlo. Y/n has him in the crook of her arm, rubbing his tummy soothingly as Chloe holds uncooked potato slices to his forehead. He's still wailing, trying to turn away from Chloe but y/n has him held down.

"He's got a fever." Y/n says sadly, not looking away from Arlo. He recognizes the furrow between her eyebrows and the defeated tone in her voice. She'd usually get like that after long nights of them being unable to calm down a colicky Arlo.

Arlo's crying eyes find his, immediately reaching his arms out towards Harry. "Dada," he whimpers, squirming in y/n's hold. Chloe takes the potato off his forehead, moving away so Harry can step in. He takes Arlo, bringing him to his chest like he had done earlier when they were outside. Arlo presses his splotchy cheek over Harry's heart, fingers fisting his shirt. Y/n takes the raw potatoes from Chloe, thanking her for her help. She doesn't place them back on Arlo's forehead, giving him a bit to just be held by Harry. He's been crying for him for about a half hour now.

"Mum's trying to find a heating pad for him," she murmurs, pressing the back of her hand to his cheek. "thinks he's got an ear infection. Ya know how planes are, and then being in the cold."

Harry nods, laying his cheek on top of Arlo's head. One of his little hands reaches up, fingers splaying across Harry's cold cheek and rubbing through the scruff he's let grow out. Arlo's quieted down now, occasionally hiccuping through his random whispers of "dada." Harry can't help but warm up every time Arlo says his name, as if he's reminding himself that it's his father that's holding him.

"Should've known," Harry whispers, realizing that Arlo's odd behavior lately was because he wasn't feeling well. He always gets insanely clingy to Harry when he's ill, but Harry hadn't thought much of it. If he had known, he wouldn't have had him outside all day today.

"It wasn't your fault Harry. We both missed it."

"If I had paid more attention I would have been able to stop it before he got this bad."

Y/n strokes her fingers through his hair. "You're not always going to be able to prevent everything Harry. Our babies are going to get sick, and hurt, and make mistakes but it'll all be okay. As long as you're there to hold them, you'll have done your job."

Arlo rubs his left cheek back and forth on Harry's chest, patting his cheek softly as if he's telling him that y/n is right. Harry kisses the top of Arlo's head, bringing a hand up to cover Arlo's right ear because he's realized that the ear against his chest is the one Arlo's trying to make feel better by squishing into him. Harry's not sure how it helps, but if Arlo's happy with him, he's not going to risk changing that.

[whosmorales]

Heya are requests open? I really want to ask a spider noir x reader. The reader loves showing noir all kinds of colourful things, mostly painted scenery she made herself. One day he finds a sketch of him asleep, when he tells the reader she becomes flustered and everything cute and fluffy please. Thank you so much!

A/N: Omg that’s so cute aaaah I’m melting 🥺💖 I know I haven’t posted in forever but this is so cute and I have a ton of ideas I’m working on rn :) !!

Work of Art - Spider Noir x Reader

Warnings: swearing, oblivious reader

“Shit” you muttered as rain started to come down. You and Noir had been walking home from a mission and as if the bruises and cuts all over you weren’t enough, it just had to start pouring rain.

“Language y/n.” Noir said monotonously.

“Sorry, sorry.” You said in your most sincere and sweet voice, before grinning cheekily under your mask and standing on your tiptoes so your faces almost touched. “I meant to say Fuck.”

Noir shoved you playfully, and even though you couldn’t tell, he smiled fondly at you laughing at your own joke. “Come on, we gotta get to Aunt May’s place. Peter B is probably worried sick right now.”

“First of all, you know Peter B is definitely not worried sick. He’s probably off on a date with MJ in his dimension or something. And second of all, let’s just spend the night at my flat or something. It’s closer, and it’s already getting dark.” You said matter of factly, giving him a light push on the shoulder.

“Fine.” He muttered over dramatically.

Besides, the Aunt May of your dimension would always make jokes about how you and Noir were head over heels for each other. But it didn’t matter, ‘cause those jokes were just stupid. Right?

You guys walked in comfortable silence until you arrived at your flat a few minutes later. You opened the door and felt a little bit of embarrassment wash over you when you saw how messy it was. Pencils and paint bottles sprinkled the floor, half finished paintings covered your desk, and your sketchbook rested on your bed. You groaned in embarrassment and walked in and attempted to clean up at least a little.

Noir picked up a bottle of paint and tilted his head in confusion. “This is....green?” He guessed.

“Nope.” You replied as you grabbed your colored pencils and shoved them into your pencil case.

“Purple?”

“No.” You stifled a laugh at his absolute confusion over the paint.

“Blue!” He said with so much confidence that he sounded like one of the characters on scooby doo figuring out who the bad guy is.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. “Look, if I tell you what color it is, will you chill out?” You smiled.

“Sure.” he said with full sincerity.

“It’s orange. Thought you’d figure it out since you’re a detective and all.” You stated boredly.

“Very funny.” He said sarcastically, pulling off his mask. Because of the rain, his hair fell in its natural state, with messy waves falling over his forehead. He caught you staring and instinctively pushed his hair off his face, running his hand through his hair.

You mirrored his actions and took your mask off, wincing when it made contacts with the cuts on your face. Noir’s eyes went wide at the sight of you without a mask on.

“What?” You blushed as he scanned your face with worry.

“Your face is covered in cuts, y/n.” He stepped closer to you, lifting his hand to touch your face.

Time seemed to freeze for a brief moment when his eyes met yours, with his calloused hand grazing your cheek and your faces only inches apart.

“Does it hurt?” He asked, his voice was soft, almost in a whisper. You took in a shaky breath and shook your head no. He nodded curtly and removed his hand from your cheek and the tension in your body faded, tension you hadn’t even realized was there.

Noir, on the other hand, had walked over to your desk to admire your paintings.

“Did you make this, y/n?” He asked, looking between you and a painting of a sunset sky, eyes full of admiration behind his thick glasses. You nodded, a slight blush growing on your cheeks. He smiled softly and looked to the painting. “It’s beautiful.”

You blushed harder. “Thank you.” Your voice was slightly shaky. He turned back to make eye contact with you and you guys stayed like that for a second. He smiled at you with softened features and pushed his glasses up before turning away.

You broke the silence. “Um, I was gonna make some food, so if you wanna get cleaned up while I do then you can.”

He nodded and you grabbed a towel and passed it to him, pointing him to the bathroom. He walked out and you buried your face in your hands. Why did he have to make you so flustered? It’s not like you like him or anything.

You grabbed two packs of instant ramen and put them in the microwave, even though it was already almost 10:00. Now left alone with your thoughts, all you could seem to think about was Noir, the way his hand rested on your cheek, wondering if he does that when he kisses. God, you have to snap out of this!

You stirred the ramen and heard the bathroom door open and close. You looked up to see Noir, in just the white tee shirt and boxers he’d been wearing under his suit and you absolutely totally 100% did NOT stare when he put on his glasses and ran a hand through his soaking wet curls of hair.

You handed him his ramen and grabbed yours, sitting on your bed to eat. Noir slowly sat down next to you, as to not spill his ramen.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” Noir asked, his tone hushed. He rested his hand on yours, causing you to tense up. “You’ve been awfully quiet doll.”

You nodded, still not turning to face him. “Yep. Just a little tired.” You ate as quickly as possible.

You guys ate in silence and you sat up as soon as you were done. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” You said, finally turning to face him, forcing a smile, but the smile became genuine when he smiled back and nodded.

You turned on the shower, letting the water rush down your body, cringing whenever it came in contact with a cut. You closed your eyes and hummed it yourself as you washed your hair.

As soon as you were done, you changed into a black tank top and a comfy pair of sweatpants. You peeked your head out the door of the bathroom to see Noir at your desk.

“What ya doin there Peter?” Your voice was sweet and gentle, as to not scare him. He turned around and grinned widely.

“Painting. I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed a canvas for it.” He said, showing you a painting of a sunset he’d done. It was similar to yours, except instead of being in shades of pink and orange, he’d used greens and purples.

You smiled widely at his painting, and then him. “I love it.”

His smile got even wider, if possible, before it was interrupted by him yawning. “I hope you don’t mind doll, but I think I should get to bed, it’s been a long day.”

You nodded gesture to your bed to signal he could sleep there. “I’ll join you in a bit, I just have to clean up.” You said, and by the time you’d finished your sentence, he was already passed out.

You cleaned up the paint spilled across your desk and grabbed your sketchbook from next to Noir. Your eyes flicked between him and your sketchbook and you had an idea. You sketched him, including every freckle, every stray curl of hair, every scruffy bit of stubble. You’d been drawing so long that you’d lost track of time and by the time you checked the clock, it was 12:30 in the morning.

You yawned to yourself, setting down your sketchbook and plopping down next to Noir, who sighed in content when he spider sensed you next to him, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

Your spider sense woke you up that morning to see Noir, reaching for your sketchbook. In one swift movement, you jumped up and attempted to grab the sketchbook, before he caught your hand in his.

“Give it back you fucking asshole.” You muttered, hoping you sounded intimidating, though your voice shook with worry.

“It’s just a book, isn’t it?” He asked, his curiosity now growing from your arguing against it. Noir grabbed it with both his hands and gently pushed you away as he flipped through the pages.

His face softened as he saw the drawing of him. You’d made him look so beautiful, so peaceful. You attempted to grab it back from him, now jumping up to grab it. You finally decided on shooting a web at it and got it, but Noir only grabbed it back so the two of you were now connected by the sketchbook.

His gaze on yours was soft, not angry like you worried it would be. You contemplated just letting go and letting him have it. You’re staring at each other, and his eyes flick between your eyes and your lips.

He frees his hands from the sketchbook, and cups your cheek in one hand, just like he had when checking on your cuts yesterday. The other hand rests on your waist, which he uses to hold you so your bodies practically pressed together. He gently pulled you closer so your faces were only a few inches apart. You freeze and he presses his lips against yours. You kiss back almost immediately, and the sketchbook falls to your feet as you free it to let your hands run through his hair.

You guys pulled apart for a moment to rest your foreheads against each other, your breaths short and your faces smiling.

“You’re a work of art y/n.”

[hydrospanners]

DARK ROMANCE

an interview with @meonlyred​‘s Lucwayn Tal Sivron for Port & Planet Magazine

(click images for full size; full text of interview under the cut) Thank you to @meonlyred for collaborating with me on this project. She is responsible for the character, and posing for the pictures, and the answers to all the interview questions. I had the time of my life making this with you.

You may know him as a Wrath, as a warrior, as the handsome shadow behind the Alliance Commander -- Sith Lord Lucwayn Tal Sivron is all of these things, but as I learned in the peculiar intimacy of a hangar bay photoset one early autumn afternoon on Odessen, he is not only these things.

 The secretive Alliance base is a place where legends come alive, and Lord Lucwayn is no exception. Shrouded as he is in stories of battle and bloodshed and some of the most salacious gossip this side of the Perlemmian, it’s easy to be surprised by the raw, seductive humanity of the man who met me in that hangar bay with a lazy smile and a bottle of Zakuulan wine.

 Already styled for his later photoshoot, Lord Lucwayn arrives to our interview harnessed in gold and draped in luxurious scarlet, a tantalizing garment perfectly designed to accentuate the hard planes and ripe swells of musculature across his exquisitely sculpted form. He is a vision of temptation, a forbidden fruit you can’t help wanting to taste, and the coy glint in his eye suggests he knows it.

 He is a man who drips with confidence, whose every languid movement is full of promise--a promise that could be for pain just as easily as for pleasure. I am immediately captivated by him, as is everyone on the set that day..

 For a Sith, Lord Lucwayn is patient with me as I remember how to form words so I can ask about the human being and his very human (or Twi’lek, as it were) connections beneath the glamor and the legend. The following interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

 PORT & PLANET: It’s been a busy couple of months here on Odessen. Do you and your wife have big plans for the Festival of Love or are you going to keep things lowkey this year?

SIVRON: Vette and I take every opportunity we can to have celebrations. The Festival of Love is a particular favorite of ours. Since we had to be apart for so long, there is a lot of celebrating to catch up on.

 PORT & PLANET: How are the two of you planning to celebrate?

SIVRON: [Smiles devilishly] Music, wine, and fine food. Then a very long evening privately, maybe with an extra friend or two.

 PORT & PLANET: So the rumors about you two having an open marriage are true?

SIVRON: It's funny how many people assume we're kidding. It's been part of our relationship since the beginning. Something we have communicated with each other extensively. I might have been with many but I have only ever loved one, my wife.

 PORT & PLANET: Do the two of you have any… frequent guests?

SIVRON: Not as many as you might think. And not the ones you might think. Usually it's one time appearances.

 PORT & PLANET: Anyone in particular you’re courting for The Festival of Love?

SIVRON: [Winks] That remains to be seen. Have to talk it over with Vette first.

 PORT & PLANET: There are lots of rumors that you’ve had the Commander of the Alliance in your bed. Any truth to that?

SIVRON: The Commander is a lovely and bold woman. Anyone would be lucky to be invited to her bed. But I won't sully the reputation of a Jedi or that of our leader by answering that.

 His words may be coy, but the smile that creeps across Lord Lucwayn’s face as he speaks of the Commander is so genuine I’m almost moved by it. It’s clear to see where the rumors of their sexual relationship come from--there’s a deep fondness there, an even deeper respect--but it seems he would be playing a different kind of coy if there was any truth to them. If the Commander is sleeping with someone on her staff, it probably isn’t Lord Lucwayn Tal Sivron.

 PORT & PLANET: Then what about her rumored lover? People say you’ve had him in your bed too.

SIVRON: [Mutters into his wine glass] Not for lack of trying. [Aloud] Our spymaster seems to be too in love with his work to have time for extracurricular activities.

 He gives the spymaster’s “work” such a particular emphasis, with such a twinkle in his eye, I can’t help wondering if this is yet another thing Lord Lucwayn is trying to say without saying. I can’t help wondering if he cultivates this air of secrecy for his own protection, for the Alliance’s protection, or merely because he knows how much more irresistible the air of mystery makes him. I find the reasons don’t matter; I’m drawn in by all the things he isn’t saying and desperate to hear him not say more.

 PORT & PLANET: Any names of note you can drop that have been guests in your bed? Before or after your marriage. You’ve got quite a reputation.

SIVRON: If you know my reputation then you probably already know that answer. Some like to brag and some like to lie. Allow them to keep their boast.

 PORT & PLANET: Alright, alright. Point taken. But I’ve been speaking with some of the former Imperials around the base and they tell me you were married once before Vette. Is that true?

SIVRON: Not entirely correct. I was engaged to be married. My family was very traditional even among the Sith and arranged a marriage between the Sivrons and the Novarrs for political and lineage purposes.

 PORT & PLANET: But then you met Vette?

SIVRON: I met Vette on Korriban. She was instrumental in helping me complete my trials there. I don't think I would have succeeded without her.

 PORT & PLANET: That’s a pretty powerful statement for a Sith. When did you first realize you loved her?

SIVRON: As with all good things it took time. It was a gradual realization that came from a thousand little things.

 PORT & PLANET: When did you tell her you loved her?

SIVRON: Short answer: when the moment was right. With the position I'm in, I wanted to make sure it was something I was ready to say and she was ready to hear.

 There is a weight to his voice as he tells me about the history of his romance with his wife that suggests yet more being left unsaid, both things that trouble him and things that delight him, but pressing Lord Lucwayn for details doesn’t make him any more forthright. And there’s probably a reason Vette declined to join us for this interview.

 PORT & PLANET: Did you ever worry about your relationship being used against you?

SIVRON: Within the Empire there are many things that can be used against you. I didn't get in the position I’m in by being unable to circumvent or quell such obstacles. I also know that Vette is more than capable.

 PORT & PLANET: Which one of you proposed? Did either of you have cold feet? What was your wedding like?

SIVRON: [Chuckles] I proposed but it was Vette who told me to do so. No cold feet, only swept ones. As for the wedding, Vette wanted a traditional Twi'lek wedding. It's a long ceremony that took most of the day, consisting of a ritual bathing, tea service, and a sermon given in Ryl. Truly I think the Twi'lek take the honor of having the most elaborate weddings.

 If the sudden sincerity in his smile when he discussed the Commander was a surprise, then the way Lord Lucwayn seems to melt when he speaks about his wife is downright shocking. His words about Vette are tender, but cannot even begin to capture the softness in his eyes or the earnest affection in his smile. It’s an incongruous sight on a man who ripples with barely restrained power and drips with sexual energy, but it’s no less magnetic than anything else he does. I can’t look away.

 PORT & PLANET: So what are your favorite things about Vette? What makes her the match of a Sith Lord?

SIVRON: [Grins] Vette is as adventurous as I am both in the bed and out. I can always count on her to get us into the most delightful trouble.

 PORT & PLANET: And if we asked Vette, what would she say she loves most about you?

SIVRON: I think she would tell you that I have the best ass in the galaxy.

 PORT & PLANET: The two of you spent five years apart while you were held prisoner by Zakuul. What was it like seeing each other again after so much time?

SIVRON: [Smiles fondly] I had tried to be romantic, launching into something about crossing the span of stars and time to be by her side again. But my love had other plans for me.

 PORT & PLANET: So you like making grand gestures. What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for Vette?

SIVRON: Vette has a passion for reclaiming Twi'lek artifacts. There have been many times I have helped her "persuade" art dealers to part with some of their ill-attained collections.

 PORT & PLANET: What’s the most romantic thing she’s ever done for you?

SIVRON: I'd like to give a vague answer about everything she does being romantic to me. It isn't too far from the truth. It is a wonder that she has chosen me.

 PORT & PLANET: It sounds like the two of you have a really great relationship. Any advice for the newlyweds out there?

SIVRON: Communication is always the key to any relationship. Talk and be honest with each other about every preference you have, from food to sex. They say the Force brings people together, but it takes work to stay together.

 It isn’t until the interview is long concluded and the dazzle of watching him pose for the holocams has finally faded that I realize how little new information I actually got out of Lord Lucwayn Tal Sivron. He is a master of half-truths and distraction, wielding that charming smile and alluring gaze as expertly as he wields his lightsaber.

 All his powers of misdirection and secrecy still are not enough to overcome his passion for his wife. I can’t know if he meant to let me see the depth of his love for her, but it was impossible not to see it as he spoke of Vette. It was so present, so apparent in his every look and gesture, I could swear I fell a little bit in love with her myself.

  It’s reassuring to know that beneath the power that swirls around him like a storm, beneath the stories and the gossip and the duties of his position in the Alliance, Lord Lucwayn Tal Sivron is a man with a heart that beats for love, just like the rest of us.

[the-mandalorian-clone-lover]

Aces in Spaces Chapter 14

I’m late again! Sorry guys!

This is about a year and a half into their relationship, they’re steadily getting more comfortable around each other and leaning better what the other is thinking!

Tags: @sunshinepascal @rentskenobi @princessxkenobi @maybege @obaby-wan @agent-450

Masterlist

She’s halfway through her practice, Roman knows her routine well enough to know that. He’ll admit the first time he’d stumbled upon her dancing (not fighting, dancing) in the studio he’d been surprised. Not shocked, it was only natural that someone of her grace, stamina, and natural rhythm found joy in the arts, but still surprised, he hadn’t thought she would enjoy it. Its become a habit for her now, she’s in the studio nearly every day and dancing every other day. At first he was careful to give her space (he’s pretty sure the fact that they’re dating wouldn’t have made him any less of a creep if he stared at her while she was working out), but now they’ve come to the agreement that if he announces himself he’s more than welcome to observe. His ‘announcements’ usually don’t consist of much more than a wave through the door or a tap on the glass, he rarely comes in, but she appreciates it all the same (the time he didn’t say anything she had nearly smacked her own self in the face with a staff when she noticed him and he almost walked into Butcher’s back the first time he saw her fight for the same reason). At any rate, she’s enjoying herself, likely having forgotten his presence by now due to loosing herself in the music.

Roman’s eyes flit to her hands as she finishes the exercises on the opposite side, one firmly grasping the bar while the other glides through the space to her side. She finishes with a small knee bend before stepping away from the bar. His eyes remain on her hands but they haven’t stopped moving, long slender fingers twirl and curve, hands and wrists becoming involved before long. The overall movement is not all that different from that which is needed to play a piano, Roman muses to himself. He purses his lips in thought before nodding to himself and opening the door into the studio. She’s turned in the meantime and throws a smile at him as she reaches for her water bottle, soft piano notes are indeed lilting through the room and Roman smiles back, letting her drink before finally asking. “Did you used to play?”

She frows as she lowers the bottle, licking her lips before she sees his upward gesture towards the speaker and her face clears in understanding. “I did a long time ago, but it’s been such a long time since I had one to play on. I had a keyboard when I was in college, but it just isn’t the same.”

She finishes with a mournful look to the floor before shaking her shoulders and looking back to Roman, “You sticking around? I was thinking of getting out my swords today.”

Her eyes sparkle at the thought and Roman smiles, the duel swords are one of her favorites but she knows he likes them too. She’s always a flurry of movement with them, grace and beauty crashing into deadliness and lethality with all the intensity of two colliding stars and forging the unrelenting fury that she presents in her drills. Regardless of her weapon choice her style always favors agility, a dance of attack and retreat, feigns of improvised defenses that are, in truth, engagingly veiled attacks. He could stand in awe for hours but alas, his ringing phone (that he could swear he had silenced) begins to cause the vision to fade all too soon. Upon retrieving it he sighs, “I have to take this darling” she nods, moving to the stereo to pause the music and aid his focus. His eyes follow her as he answers.

“This is Roman.” She watches him nod along for a few moments before he moves the phone to press against his chest. “Love, I’ll have to follow this through, dinner? Tonight? I can order in, text me what you want?”

She nods her assent to each question as it comes before laughing at his persistence, walking over to him to place her hands against his chest. “I’ll let you know my King” She finishes with a soft smile, glancing down at the phone before finding his eyes again. He takes a deep breath,

“You know what it does to me when you say that.” She just smiles, leaning in closer to press her lips to his, she starts gentle but his hand comes up to cradle the back of her head, tilting his own to get a better angle at running his tongue along her lower lip, her hands are moving and he’s thrilled that he’s won her over-- until they end up in his armpits and she starts tickling him. He jolts away with a bark of laughter that sounds something like ‘stop’ before her laughing drowns it out. She’s bent over and clutching at her own sides, gasping out a ‘don’t forget your phone call’ before straightening again. She catches sight of the pout he knows he’s doing and tilts her head back to chuckle again. He loves her laugh, always has, even if it is at his expense at this moment. All the same he fixes her with a raised eyebrow and a disapproving set of his mouth.

“Keep on like that and I’ll order Chinese instead of tacos.”

She gasps theatrically, placing a hand over her heart “You wouldn’t” she says, voice full of disbelief and horror.

He smiles devilishly “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Its all he gives her before strutting from the room, knowing she’ll still be watching. She is, and she smiles fondly at the way his entire posture re-arranges itself when he picks the phone back up, watching him until the wall blocks him from view before returning to the stereo and beginning her practice again.

*Later that evening*

She had requested Italian later in the day, and Roman had teased her a little more (‘just who do you think you are anyway? Tickling the King like that? Her response had been that she was his lover and well, how exactly was he supposed to tell her no after that anyway?) but in the end he had caved and they were both enjoying variations of pasta (he’d guessed her preference of Alfredo before she texted it and he’s quite proud of that). They’re seated at the dining table, she insisted he sit at the head of it despite the fact there’s only two of them, and he insisted she sit beside him. She’d pouted at not being the ‘right hand woman’ before he’d informed her he could ‘conquer the world with his right hand, as long as she held his left’. She didn’t mind as much after that. He waits until they’ve both finished and are picking at dessert before he decides to spring his latest idea.

“Maybe that’s what it needs” he says vaguely, staring into space as if he’d been daydreaming. Erica blinks at him, eyes flitting in the direction he’s looking (which is into the living room) before coming back to his face and pausing another beat waiting for the explanation. When she doesn’t get one she decides to take the bait. “What, what needs?”

Roman shakes himself before gesturing around in reference to the apartment “A piano, it seems empty in here.” He turns his gaze to her and finds about what he expects. Confusion, surprise, puzzlement, and then denial.

“I wasn’t trying to—”

He waves her off. “No, no, I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, I think it’ll add ambiance to my meetings. If people say things I don’t like I’ll just” He brings his hands down on the table as if he were keyboard smashing “Play music.” He pauses, she’s narrowing her eyes slightly, attempting to gauge how much of this is in jest and how much is in seriousness and he gives her a few seconds of agony before continuing in a more deliberate tone.

“Or, you could play music. I’ll lay across the back with roses in my mouth” He leans back in the chair throwing an arm over his head in an effort to elongate himself “It’ll all be very dramatic”. He fights a chuckle all through the sentence but by the end gives up and huffs out a laugh. She laughs along after a moment, smiling down at her nearly empty plate, even so, Roman can’t help but notice it isn’t entirely whole-hearted.

“I am serious” he adds after a moment, “I wouldn’t mind it at all, it would be nice to, break up the silence.” He pauses then, suddenly becoming aware of the implications she must be assuming he is inferring. To have not only the studio, but also a piano, two things she enjoys tied directly to him (and basically his house by default) probably sounds like a precursor to a moving in conversation. He rushes to clear the air.

“Unless you’d rather it was downstairs in the lounge, I could always arrange that, more meetings happen there anyway and ---”

She cuts in by placing a hand over his and weighing it down until it rests on the table again. “I, I think I’d rather get familiar with it in a quieter setting.” She says seeming to look into his soul instead of just his eyes, “As long as it wouldn’t bother you?” She asks the question timidly and he’s certain he’d like to deck whoever it is that told her she was a bother. Instead, he stacks his other hand on top of hers and smiles.

“I’d love to hear anything that you played.” He’s smiling softly as he says it but decides to crack one last joke before giving into the soft atmosphere fully. “Unless its at four in the morning. I know you like getting the early bird but I can’t live like that.” He turns his head away from her as he speaks, intent on feigning indifference but her huff of laughter causes him to turn back to her as soon as he’s finished. Her other hand is coming up to hold his chin, bringing his face closer to hers before he rests it in her open palm.

“You’re wonderful, Roman Clay Stanton. Absolutely wonderful.” She says it with admiration pouring from her tone, dimples forming as she smiles softly. “I wish every man in the world was like you.”

He’s flattered by the compliment really but, he can’t hide the way his chest clenches at her wish. Every man? He knows she doesn’t mean ill, and he’s never been the jealous type but somehow the thought of her loving anyone else the way she does him, it makes him feel sick. Her voice is interrupting his thoughts—

“No, I take it back, I don’t wish that at all” she says with stubborn conviction, tilting her head to catch his eyes from where they’d fallen to the table, “because if it were the case I’d have never found you. My beautiful, kind, caring lover.” She breathes out the last word, just above a whisper, turning her hand to drag the backs of her fingers across his cheek. He turns into it, bringing his own hand up to keep her there when she moves to drop her hand away.

“Why are you whispering?” He brings his eyes to hers as he questions in an equally hushed tone. He hopes she can see the love he’s pushing through his eyes toward her.

“Why are you whispering?” She returns, leaning in conspiratorially, tilting her head and glancing down at his lips before looking back up to his eyes.

His own recon of her face finds she’s biting her lower lip and he returns his eyes to her again before admonishing her “If you wanted me to kiss you Erica, all you had to do was ask.”

He sees the incredibly minute shiver run through her as he says her name and he wants to say it a thousand times more if that’s the reaction he gets.

“What day were you thinking for delivery?” She changes the subject with ease, and he smiles that she knows him well enough to know he’s done everything but give the word in preparation.

“They can do Thursday afternoon at the earliest, Friday morning if I’m busy.”

She nods, running her tongue along her lips, “That’s three days.”

Roman hums his assent.

“Well then Mr. Stanton, I think you’re owed three kisses.”

He doesn’t count necessarily, but he knows he gets more than three before he’s closing the car door to allow Butch to take her home.

*************************

[nishaapologist]

Proved You Right (Fallout 4, Sarah Lyons/NB!LW - First Sentinel AU)

a small note: this mentions having a basement in Home Plate, but that’s actually because i have a mod that lets me stick basements down to have a bit more space to breathe. for the sake of I Did It In My Game So It Counts, there’s also a basement in this au too! so yeah. anyway have this gay shit.

(sarah’s pronouns are she/her, rookie’s are they/them)

—

“This probably comes as, like, no surprise, but man... I love this city.”

Finding out there was a balcony, of sorts, on the roof of Sarah’s home in Diamond City — home plate, as they call it, which was a name that’d flown right over Sarah’s head until Rookie had gleefully explained the term — had been a pleasant surprise when Sarah had thrown down the two-thousand or so caps to buy the place, clambering up the rickety old ladder to the roof on her first inspection of the house only to find herself in a little sitting area that overlooked the market. She hadn’t made great use of it right away, more interested in the basement underneath that would later become her new base(ment) of operations in the Commonwealth, but then Rookie had shown up to Diamond City on the coattails of a local merchant, and now they spend near every evening sitting in the shell of an old caravan that’s been welded down to the corrugated sheets of the roof, drinking lukewarm beer as they listen to Myrna holler anti-synth slogans, or quietly singing along to songs on the radio until exhaustion makes all the words collapse into mumbles.

It’s a moment of peace, of relaxation, in a time increasingly fraught with battles and tension, and Sarah actually looks forward to tinkering with weapons or armour on her lap at the end of the day, Rookie beside her and resting on an old sunlounger as they hum along to the radio. It helps to put things into perspective, rather than grinding herself down to a sliver as — many years ago — she would have always done.

“I mean, I don’t like the mayor, or his whole ‘no-ghouls’ bullshit or anything,” they quickly add when Sarah glances up from under her eyelashes, head bowed as she turns the extended magazine of a 10-mil pistol about in her hand. Back in the Citadel, over a decade ago, weapon modding was never really a thing Sarah had needed to do, but it turns out that after years of maintaining Power Armor she has quite the knack for it. It’s just a bit more fiddly than she’s used to, is all. “But I really like everything else. The people, mostly. The market. The stands. All that stuff.”

Sarah snorts under her breath, squinting back down as the sunlight slowly dims on the horizon, a cool evening ushering in a breeze and making the hairs on her arms prickle. Spring is approaching the Commonwealth, the months quick to pass, and soon the most hardy of trees will be flush with life again, Ragstag fawns wobbling on unsteady legs, Yao Guai slowly waking from hibernation. It’s a new year, and 2288 is already shaping up to be an exciting one. “You sure that’s not just ‘cause we’re on a baseball field? Pitch?” Sarah screws up her nose. “Stadium?”

“Baseball park?” Rookie offers, though there’s no surety in their voice. “We called it the baseball diamond back in the Vault, since that was pretty much all we had space for.”

“Baseball diamond, then. You sure it’s not ‘cause of that? Isn’t this, like, your wildest dream, or whatever?”

Rookie kicks one leg out at Sarah, too far away for their foot to even hope of landing anywhere near her, but she jerks backwards to dodge it anyway, laughing at their grimace as they retract their foot. “Oh, please! I have bigger dreams than arguing with Moe fuckin’ Cronin about how ass-backwards he got his baseball rules!”

That first argument with Moe had been quite the spectacle, and one Sarah knows Diamond City won’t forget any time soon; Rookie had been checking out his stock with wide eyes, giving each bat a practice swing to feel the weight and heft as it arced around, and when he’d leant down to tell them how crazy Pre-War baseball had been — one team would beat the other team to death with things called Baseball Bats, and the best bats were called Swatters — Rookie had given him a public dressing-down that even Sarah had sidled away from, lest Rookie’s faithful bat, grasped in increasingly irate hands, accidentally found an arc directly into her skull by mistake. It had ended most excitingly with a lot of swears, intervention from the guards, and Rookie’s solemn declaration that they were never gonna buy bats from ‘such a dipshit’, and even now they and Moe glare daggers at each other from across the market, much to Sarah’s ongoing amusement with the whole thing.

As if remembering the same incident, Rookie takes a swig of beer, glowering off at the floodlights that shine down onto the city. “At least Alex agrees with me about him. This shit’s a dying art, apparently.”

Sarah pauses for a moment, and she can’t help the way her gaze tracks towards the far stands, glancing through one of the glassless windows to where ramshackle abodes sit, suspended, above the common rabble. Alex — or the Sole Survivor as some call her now, after her story about the Vault got published for hundreds of eyes to see, and for many more mouths to gossip about — had been granted a house in the upper stands by Mayor McDonough out of the kindness (or manipulation) of his heart, offering her a safe place to adapt to the new and unforgiving world she’d found herself in. Since they’d met, Sarah had struggled to get much more out of her than single-syllable words and pleas for her to find her son, but it was only when Rookie had shown up that her sturdy, Pre-War walls had finally begun to crumble, just a little.

Really, it’s because they’re a Vaultie, too — different experiments be damned — and it helps that they’re someone who was also thrown into the topsy-turvy world of the wastes with nary an idea for the horrors within. They might not quite be out of time, but they do understand being out of place, and when it turned out that Alex is (or, perhaps was) quite the baseball buff herself, they’d forged a connection that made her, initially, a little warmer. Nowadays, Alex is very nearly sociable.

But she still very much keeps to herself, and it’s enough to have Sarah worry. She sees a lot, maybe too much, of Rookie in her — back when they met in Chevy Chase, still new to this world — to be strictly comfortable leaving her to her own devices, but there’s not much else to be done. It’ll take years before she’ll ever really adapt, Rookie had said, years until she can really grapple with the world she doesn’t know. It’s just tough shit.

“Yeah,” Sarah murmurs absently, drawing herself from her rabbithole of thoughts, and Rookie follows her eyeline carefully, knowing exactly where she’s looking. “Well, hey. I guess you have to think of it this way; you and Alex make up two people who know how to play baseball, right? How many more do you need for a full team?”

Rookie laughs at that, sombre face breaking out into a toothy grin, and they slide even further down the lounger as their hat slips over their eyebrows. “Hah! Find me six more Vaulties, and then we’ll really be talking. I’ll be able to hit the first homerun in two-hundred fuckin’ years.”

“Wait,” Sarah says with a frown, doing the maths. Even to her ears, it doesn’t seem to add up right. “Only eight people? You sure?”

Rookie snorts, and then they reach up to take their hat off with a lazy pluck, eyeing Sarah up seconds before her vision goes dark as it’s tossed, haphazardly, onto her head and over her eyes.

“Baby,” Rookie coos fondly as she splutters, nearly dropping the magazine to the ground whilst she scrambles to whip it off her head. “Bold of you to think you can worm your way out of being our pitcher.”

The hat gets launched back at Rookie’s face, the brim making a dull impact on the bridge of their nose, and their shout of pain and laughter echoes right across the city.

[whentommymetalfie]

“Trust me. I’ve got you.”

----

A:N Summer time means more time for Art Stuff, so here’s another installment of my 1000-follower celebration. The wonderful fic is by @weeo -thank you for sending me this lovely thing. The fic, along with some additional notes can also be read here. I put a ‘read more’ link in this, because the post was getting so long! Also pls click for high-res action on the art

Weeo: Aesthetic inspirations : The film The Shape Of Water and Harry Potter and the Goblet of fire (Second task in the Black Lake). Musical inspirations : A winged victory for the Sullen - A Symphony Pathetique, Steep Hills of Vicotin Tears and All Farewells are sudden

—

Today, the night is restful. Alfie is paddling in the water, occasionally diving into the shallows of the Black Lake, but mostly calmly floating, ears underwater, listening to the peaceful silence. The lake is tiny, but instantly deep when you set a foot inside. There are dark trees all around it, lengthened by thin branches.

After Alfie has resurfaced from one of his multiple dives, he shouts joyfully :

“Come on Tommy. Come with me. Don’t stay all alone on the shore !”

Tommy is smoking, seated on the small pier, an arm around one of his leg. He’s only wearing a partly unbuttoned shirt and his underwear. His other foot dangles in fresh water and wiggles slightly. He’s looking away, toward the starry sky. When Alfie breaks him out of his reverie, he turns his head, but keeps a wistful expression, his mouth still half-opened. He firstly raises an eyebrow. Within a few seconds, he shatters the silence, which was beautified by the lapping on the shore, with his usual cold voice : “You’re alone too.”

Alfie smiles faintly and starts floating on his back. “You’re dull, mate. It’s just so refreshing to swim. Just come enjoy the delightful pleasures of life, Earth offers us, before the devil remembers where we fucking belong !”

“No. I’m fine here.”, Tommy protests, “I don’t wanna be soaked.” He takes a long drag on his cigarette.

“Aw, our little precious boy don’t wanna catch a cold, innit.”, Alfie mocks, “Then, just come a few minutes and get out quickly if you’re freezing. I won’t judge ya for your softness, Tommy.”

Tommy sighs, while rolling his eyes. “Alfie”, he drawls, “I drank too much, I would drown.”

Unconvinced, Alfie swims silently to get closer to Tommy. When he reaches the shore, he leans on the bank. Tommy hasn’t taken his eyes off him all the way. Alfie waves his hand in the air. “Come here on the grass. I wanna show you something.”.

Sceptical, Tommy lifts his eyebrows : “To throw me into the water, I’m not fucking stupid.”.

“I won’t. I swear.” Alfie promised, with a sincere, but concerned look at his lover. Tommy throws his cigarette and slowly stands up. He looks quite irritated. He walks barefoot on the grass, without looking to his direction and sits cross-legged next to Alfie on the bank.

“I just wanna make you listen to something”, Alfie points vigorously at Tommy’s forehead, “that will soothe your tiny head from all that booze you drank, mate. Just take off that pretty shirt of yours.”.

Offended, Tommy objects : “Fucking hell… Are you being serious right now ?”

Alfie gets closer to Tommy and strokes his thigh, as an act of reassurance.

“Yeah, just do it, I promised I won’t throw you into the water. But I don’t get why you’re so upset. You’re looking like a little vampiric cat who’s afraid of being touched by holy water. Don’t be that wary, I won’t force you into anything, love”

Tommy’s face pauses for some seconds and softens slowly. He then hesitantly starts by undoing the first button of his shirt. He looks down toward Alfie, who encourages him with a nod, and unbuttons it completely, before taking it off.

“You’ll have to lay down.” Still partially immersed in the water, Alfie guides Tommy with his hands. “with your head next to me. Yeah, just like that”, Alfie whispers so softly. Tommy is laid down on his back, head on the bank, next to the water and Alfie.

“I know a mad jewish doctor, Tommy, who can heal the damages in your little head.”. Alfie brushes his knuckles on his lover’s temples and subsequently makes his fingers travel on the sharp cheekbones and jawline. Tommy closes his eyes and melts into Alfie’s touches. “Lucky you are today”, says Alfie, “he’s just next to ya.”. Tommy smiles faintly, lifting the corner of his mouth. Alfie gently draws little circles, with his thumb, on Tommy’s cheek.

“It’s way more effective if your body is totally underwater, but since I’m a real magician of the modern medicine…”.

Tommy’s voice is slightly breaking, when he cuts Alfie in the middle of his sentence, to murmur : “I would drown, I said.”. Still leaned on his elbow against the bank and brows confusedly furrow, Alfie doesn’t add anything on this seemingly sensitive case, that he purposely closes to keep up with his speech.

“Imagine Tommy, someone who always hear sounds, annoying, awful sounds, all the fucking time in his ears, and suddenly, he can hear the silence, yeah, a total absence of noises.”. Alfie puts an hand under Tommy’s head and drag him closer. “A jewish friend of mine told me, his head has been harmed in France, just like yours, Tommy. He’s now swimming at least 2 hours every day, because the tiredness helps him a bit to sleep, right, but mostly, for drowning his head underwater.”, he explains carefully. Tommy’s head is now placed just over the water, supported by Alfie’s hand. “Would you like to try too ?”, Alfie asks, to which Tommy answers with a simple “Fine”.

“So, welcome to the great, deep silence, mate.”, he announces. He then immerses half of Tommy’s head, slowly, to avoid frightening him. Only his face is over the water to allow him to breath.

Tommy doesn’t move for several seconds. His tensed features soften really slowly, to the point, that it’s nearly imperceptible. Alfie gazes at him, concern etched in his face. The usually reassuring lapping of the water seems suddenly to taunt him and his silly ideas.

“I wish I could bring back that calm home,” Tommy mutters with his husky voice, while smiling fondly. His words sound like a deep breath of fresh air to Alfie. Tommy doesn’t remove his head from the water and stay there for a moment, his eyes closed, without talking at all.

Alfie takes the opportunity of a deaf Tommy to voice what he guessed since some time : “You thought you fooled me, you silly boy. Nah, nah, nah. I know you’re too proud to just ask for help. How am I supposed to be your pillar, when you hide the rocks to build it, mate ? You can’t swim don’t ya ?”

Feeling his lover moving slightly, Tommy opens his eyes again on Alfie’s last sentence. He instantly lifts his head out of the water : “What were you saying? I couldn’t hear anything.”

“You can’t swim, can ya ?” questions Alfie directly.

Tommy’s pounding heart, which is threatening to explode in tiny pieces, feels suddenly trapped in his chest. His mouth only partially opens, but there is no a sound that can leave it. Sweat begins to appear on his whole body and he’s unable to look Alfie in the eye.

Alfie brings Tommy’s head to his shoulder, to embrace him. He strokes his lover’s hair, as an attempt to comfort him and whispers in his ear : “Eh, Tommy, nothing to worry about, I’ll teach ya and you won’t even be able remember, that you couldn’t at some point”.

Alfie can feel Tommy’s steady breath against his chest. “You usually like to bathe in the little river next to the house. You don’t join me, cause you really don’t want to or cause you can’t ?” Tommy stays silent, ignoring Alfie’s question, although he’s still clinging to him.

“Got it. Do you trust me ?”

Tommy briefly nods against Alfie’s shoulder.

“Eh, look at me.”

Tommy loosens his embrace and meet Alfie’s eyes with difficulties.

“I’ve got you,Tommy. You can follow me.”, he says with a little smile.

Alfie starts to slowly move away of the shore, holding one of Tommy’s hand.

“Trust me. I’ve got you.”

On an impulse, Tommy throws himself unexpectedly into the lake, gripping Alfie’s hand. Alfie looks at Tommy, when they are underwater, admiring his cute way to sink horizontally, eyes tightly closed. He catches the second hand of his lover, then grasps both of his forearms to bring him closer and leaves a loving kiss on his lips.

———

I’ve nothing more to say, so have a nice day !

----

@justanothershelby -since you asked me to tag you! :) <3

[solaneceae]

EGOTOBER DAY 5 - Umbrella

The street was quiet, save for the pitter-patter of raindrops crashing on his umbrella. He hummed a cheery tune whose origin he couldn’t place, mindlessly syncing up to the sound of two pairs of shoes walking the asphalt.

“So… how’s your family doing?”

Dr. Iplier tilted his head towards Henrik, surprised by his sudden query; his old friend hadn’t said a word since they left the clinic a few minutes ago. The late evening was cold and rainy, and his workaholic colleague had forgot to bring his umbrella. So Edward had offered to walk him home under his own, an offer the German had taken without much protest.

And here laid the problem; Dr. Schneeplestein was a proud, stubborn man- much like himself- and he despised needing any sort of assistance. So him accepting without much of a fight was… concerning, to say the least.

He shook himself out of his thoughts; Henrik was waiting for an answer, his light grey-blue eyes peering at him sedately. He’d ask later. “Hectic.” he sighed. “Wilford set fire to a nightclub last week, so Dark grounded him until the authorities stop looking for him. They’ve both been in a foul mood ever since, and it’s up to me to pick up the pieces. As always.”

Ah, the brown-haired ego pondered, explains how often he missed work lately. “How about the new guy, the one with the stutter?”

Edward’s features softened; apparently, the Manor had a new resident, one that the dark-haired doctor had taken a shine to. “Oh, you mean young Eric. He’s been doing better, actually. He only broke down crying twice this week.”

Henrik hummed approvingly. “Ja, the Derekson boy. Poor soul. No offense mein Freund, but with a household like yours? The fact that he’s still alive is a crowning achievement in itself."

“None taken. Honestly, I don’t think you Septics realize how lucky you are. I’m starting to think Mark can only create raging psychopaths, narcissists or cripplingly traumatized egos.”

“And which of those are you, then?”

A smirk. “I’m a doctor. Therefore, I’m all of those things and more.”

Schneep barked out a laugh; he always liked talking to Edward. The Ipliers were, in his professional opinion, walking disaster magnets- that is, whenever they weren’t the ones causing the disaster in the first place. Henrik knew his own family was chaotic- they too had their very own demon to deal after all- but the Manor’s inhabitants were on a whole other level.

Despite all that, the strong-jawed, level-headed doctor was a welcome presence in Henrik’s life. “How about yours?” said doctor asked, ruffling his untamed hair. The humidity had made it especially poofy and shiny today.

Schneep rolled his eyes. “Same as ever. Rambunctious. Reckless. Anti and Marv keep snapping at each other like rabid wolves, und I swear Jackie shows up half-dead at the door every other week now…”

He ran a shaky hand through his own hair; it was tangled and greasy. Jesus, when was the last time he’d gone home to shower and eat? “I know he heals faster than a normal human, but I’m getting worried. Other than that, they’re all doing fine… Jacques' been busy running his art studio and paid us a visit last month, and Angus should come back from Australia soon.”

Dr Iplier hummed in sympathy. As a doctor himself- as well as the only sane man in a ridiculously large ego family, he understood the feeling quite well. But he couldn’t help but notice how the shadows under his colleague’s eyes had gotten darker, his milky complexion paler, his footing less secure. Even his hair looked grayer these days; he guiltily wondered if the shifts Henrik had been covering on his behalf had something to do with it.

Edward was glad he’d offered to accompany him tonight; the German’s state was starting to worry him. “Have you been taking care of yourself properly?”

Schneep let out a mirthless chuckle, averting his gaze. “What doctor worthy of that title does.”

“You shouldn’t be neglecting your own health!”

“Look who’s talking.”

Edward cringed at that, turning away from his friend. Touché. “Alright, so I’m a hypocrite, fine. It doesn’t make it less true.”

There was a lull in the conversation as they kept walking, both stubbornly staring in front of them. The sun had finally set, and the street lamps around them were gradually switching on.

“I just want them to be okay.”

Dr. Iplier looked at Henrik; he was still staring ahead, but his eyes had lost their shine and focus. He looked tired. Drained. “Things have been getting better between most of them, I know that. But some of them have issues they’re just not willing to work through, and it frustrates me to no end.” The younger ego groaned, resting his face in his hands. “I’m just. So. Tired. Of taking care of everyone. All the time. It’s like they’ll fall apart if I’m not there to mend the bridges. JJ’s presence has been helping a lot, but…”

“Hey.”

Henrik looked up at his friend. The broader man was staring at him, his dark brown eyes burning with intent.

“They’ll be fine.” Edward said softly. “Like you said, they’re getting better. They wouldn’t want you overworking yourself to death for their sake.”

“But-”

“Shush. I’m a doctor, I know what’s best.”

Henrik frowned; it’d been a while since the other has used that. On him, no less. “So am I, dummkopf.”

“Well I’ve been around longer, that obviously makes me the superior one.” Edward boasted, proudly puffing up his chest.

“How does that make any sense?!” Henrik squawked, his thin hands flying everywhere in indignation.

“Because I said so!”

“Gott, you’re insufferable!”

They glared at each other for a few seconds, before bursting into laughter. Henrik had jerked his head backwards, howling with mirth, while Edward had devolved into his baritone guffaw, almost kneeling over in his hilarity. That meant he wasn’t protecting them from the rain anymore, but none of them cared.

Their manic laughter faded into nervous chuckles, and Schneep wiped the tears from his eyes. Christ, that felt good. “Thank you, Edward. I really needed this.”

“Anytime, old friend.”

The German tilted his head, smiling brightly at the Iplier. “Look at you, giving actual logical advice. I can’t believe you’re the same man that kept telling everyone they were dying.”

“Hey,” Edward shrugged, “Mark may have made me as a joke, but egos aren’t mindless puppets.” he looked up at the sky. It was starting to clear up. “We’re not that different from humans. We change. We grow.”

He smiled mischievously. “You of all people should know that. Remember-”

“I swear I will punch you if you finish that sentence.”

“-when you thought the penis bone was an actual thing?”

“Screw you Edward. I am a respectable, perfectly qualified doktor now!” He was. Had an actual diploma and everything.

The Iplier snorted, smiling fondly. “I know. You’re the very best.”

Schneep almost tripped on his own foot at his colleague’s words, eyes widening. “Was-”

“We’re here.”

Henrik followed the other’s gaze. He was right; they were now right in front of the house, and he could vaguely make out the sound of Chase’s drumming and Jameson’s violin. They were practicing again.

He sighed, but it was in relief this time; no sign of an argument, nor of another one of Marvin’s spells gone wrong. Maybe he could catch a break after all. He turned towards Edward again, clearing his throat. “Well. Thank you for walking me home, I appreciate it.”

The Iplier waved dismissively. “Eh, don’t mention it.” He then sobered up and put his hand on the other’s shoulder. “But I meant what I said. I care about you, and I don’t want to see you waste away. So I want you to be more careful with how you treat yourself, okay?”

Henrik blinked then nodded, a bit dazed by the affection he could feel behind the other’s words, and at the strange way the streetlights were reflecting in his chocolate eyes. “Okay… I’ll keep that in mind.”

Edward stayed silent for a while, searching Henrik’s face for something. Once he seemed to find it, he closed his eyes and breathed out. “Alright. I trust you.”

His fingers brushed against the smaller man’s stubble as he withdrew his hand. Henrik’s breath hitched.

“Get some sleep, Hen.” Edward murmured. “Please. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His lips stretched in a farewell smile before he walked away, leaving Henrik standing alone in front of his house under the fading rain. The younger ego’s hand shakily rose up, fingers tracing the lingering heat on his cheek.

Gottverdammt. Maybe he needed a drink.

-----

*flips table* gOD DAMMIT EDWARD

i was this close. THIS CLOSE. to succeed in not making it shippy. and my brain goes sike and does this shit. well i guess this is my life now. i'll go down with this ship

@tabbynerdicat @egopocalypse @humblecacti @lilakennedy (its schneep time its schneep time gather all your stans its schneep time-)

[solest]

I don’t know what happened but I wrote something again. Just thought about Crowley and Aziraphale remembering the influence they had on some artists in the renaissance (well, actually it’s most about Aziraphale’s influence on a certain work of Michelangelo). Thanks to folks in the /r GO discord server for helping me out at some point and a big thanks to @seraph5​ for letting me using the bit about Crowley and the statue at the end (it was her idea while I babbled on about this) and for always reading the shit I write XD.

It is 4 am right now and I’m not a native englishspeaker, so I bet there are some mistakes along the way

Here you go:

It was a lovely afternoon for a visit of the museum. The weather was not so much for a walk in the park, so this was a nice way to get out on a little date and reminisce about things one or both of them had a hand in.

Today there was an exhibition about the art of the Renaissance and both, Aziraphale and Crowley remembered one or two things about a lot of it.

Aziraphale came to a halt in front of a prototype of a pietá that was accompanied by a photoset of Michelangelo’s work. The smallish statue showed the depiction of Mary, holding the dead Jesus in her arms. On the right side of Mary’s feet you could see the rest of something that looked suspiciously like a little cherub looking creature but the head was missing and only one wing was still intact.

Crowley stopped when Aziraphale did and eyed him from the side, seeing the fond expression forming on the angel’s face.

“You were involved in this too?”

Aziraphale didn’t look at him when he answered, his gaze still on the statuette. “Ah, I guess you could say that. I just encouraged him to do what he wanted to anyways.”

“That’s a cupid there, isn’t it? And I always thought that Mary looked quite young and not very - you know- motherly.”

Aziraphale chuckled and turned to Crowley, still a smile on his face. “You’re right. But like I said, I only encouraged him. I remember visiting him on a particular evening when he was in one of his foul moods. He wasn’t very happy about me laying eyes on this draft, given that I was just presenting myself as someone from the clerical staff and all…”

He was interrupted by a snort from the demon and Aziraphale frowned at him.

“What’s so funny?”

“One of his foul moods. As far as I remember, he was a walking mood swing. No fun at all.”

“Not everyone could be as flashy as Leonardo. And you know,” Aziraphale raised one eyebrow at the demon, “I guess I have a thing for moody people, my dear.”

Crowley opened his mouth to tell him that he wasn’t moody at all, but Aziraphale turned back to the exhibit and just offered, a smidge smugly “you want to hear the story or not?”

Well, Crowley was curious by nature, so he just let that pass (for now) and Aziraphale remembered.

  Michelangelo’s Workshop 1497, Rome

“Oh, what’s that? Is this a draft for Cardinal Jean Bilhères de Lagraulas’s commission? You were quite fast with that my friend”

Aziraphale wanted to take a closer look at the statue on the work bench, but the young artist took a step to block out the view.

“It’s only draft, as you say. It’s not ready to be inspected yet”. Michelangelo’s voice was strained, and Aziraphale wasn’t sure if this came from his already not so good mood or the fact that he had seen the unfinished statue. In most cases, it wasn’t much of a problem for Michelangelo to show his progress to the friendly priest, he actually shared them quite readily with him. So it must have been something about the statue itself that made him so nervous.

“You know that you don’t have to hide anything from me, dear boy. I won’t say anything about it if you don’t want to hear my opinion, I swear.” Aziraphale tried to give this a bit more weight with a reassuring smile.

Michelangelo scrunched up his face at that but more in a thinking manner than distaste, the marble dust on his face giving him deeper lines than a young man in his mid-twenties should have.

Aziraphale waited, knowing the process behind the artists thinking now for a while and was rewarded with a deep sigh, followed by a “All right, but no word to anybody Aziraphale! Swear it!”

 Well, it must have been something really important if he was asked to do that, but he did it to ease his companions mind. “I swear by everything that’s holy to me. Enough for you?”

Michelangelo nodded and stepped aside, giving Aziraphale the opportunity to watch his work closely. It was a depiction of Mary, holding the dying Jesus in her arms tenderly, quite more so than he had seen on other depictions of that particular scene. The details were breathtaking as always, even though this was only a mere draft for the project; Michelangelo was a perfectionist after all. Mary’s face was fair and young, showing a delicate sadness.

It wasn’t uncommon to interpret the holy mother as young and fair, but something about this one seemed to be a different. The way she was holding the body, draped over her lap had an intimacy to it that was not meant for a mother and her son. Aziraphale’s noticed something on the right side of Mary’s feet and his eyes widened as he realized it was a little cupid, a sign for lovers.

Michelangelo watched Aziraphale closely, wringing his hands nervously and waiting for the priest to say something. “That’s gorgeous, as always, but…I assume that this is not the mother of Christ you’re showing here. It’s Mary Magdalene, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale was saying this just matter of fact way, no judgment or anything suspicious in his voice. Why should he be, he had known that woman, quite a nice young lady. Michelangelo seemed to be in a mix of relived and confused, still tense and brows furrowed.

“Y…yes… I know it’s blasphemous to do such a thing, I won’t do it for the actual statue but…I heard things, Aziraphale, back in Florence, and I just can’t make them unheard!” he nearly whispered this, like he was concerned to get caught at something forbidden. Well, it actually was, for the humans at the Vatican anyways.

Aziraphale had heard about that too, the thesis that Jesus had actually loved and married Mary Magdalene, which would have made him more of a human and less of the holy son of God, untouchable and above the human desires. The angel sighed at the thought of that and smiled fondly at his young friend, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to fear anything Michelangelo; I’m not going to tell anyone about this. I’ve heard that too and who said that there’s no truth in that? Well, beside the pope and all, but as a scholar I have to say that rumors always hold a spark of truth within”.

He knew that terrible things had happened to people with that mindset, so he tried to sooth the young man as good as possible.

Michelangelo’s eyes grew wide as moons, hearing that from an actual priest of the Vatican and he grabbed Aziraphale’s other hand in both of his. “You did? Oh tell me, tell me what you’ve read!”

Aziraphale was a bit startled by that outburst but he was relieved that the young man was just showing unbound curiosity now instead of that dreadful anxiety and bad mood.

He suggested to sit down and have drink, while Aziraphale told him about the son of god and Magdalene as if he had read about it somewhere.

He remembered them talking intensely, sitting close to each other and growing closer and closer over the time they spend together. Never once Magdalene forgot who that young man from Nazareth was, but Aziraphale could tell that there was something more. He remembered one conversation with her on a brief meeting, talking about love. She simply said that Jesus loved everybody equally, but Aziraphale could tell from those stolen glances between the two and the waves of a more personal love that he felt that time. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but in the far back of his mind a small voice was telling him, that he sported some similar glances whenever meeting a certain demon.

Michelangelo hung on his lips while he spun that tail, not saying anything to interrupt the priest, which was very unlikely for him. Eventually Aziraphale came to an end.

 “And you know, in the end there was something greater than them, I think they both knew. You can’t be selfish when you’re the messiah and all; he had a destiny to fulfill, and she knew that too.” He looked up from his cup, still having all of Michelangelo’s focus on him who had absorbed every word.

Silence fell over them for a moment before the young man spoke again. “That…that sounds very romantic _actually. Where have you read that again?” _

Aziraphale looked back into his cup, trying to come up with something. “Oh a very old scroll. I don’t think that it’s still in the library, something scandalous like this and all. But I hope that this ensures you that your secret is well kept. I wouldn’t recommend the cupid on the actual commission though”

He grinned and Michelangelo answered it with one of his own. After that evening they became actual friends; the young man was always eager to see Aziraphale and complain about that damn bastard da Vinci or he showed him his sketches and drafts. Sometimes he seemed to blush and at one occasion he even asked if he could sketch Aziraphale. But as it always were with the fleeting live of humans and Aziraphale’s duty as an Angel he couldn’t keep that friendship up for too long and they paths separated eventually.

 Back to London, present day.

Crowley actually listened to all of this without interrupting. It was quite a nice little story and he remembered his days with Leonardo vividly, also his complaints about this youngsters who behaved like he was walking around with a stick in his arse.

They kept on walking after Aziraphale had finished, when another presumably work of Michelangelo let Crowley stop this time. It was an unfinished statue, not too big but out of the white carrara marble as all the other serious works. Crowley knew why he was drawn to it when he took a better look, growing a grin on his face that showed more teeth than necessary. “I think you left quite the expression, Angel.”

Aziraphale stopped in his tracks and looked at Crowley, quite confused. “What do you mean? We were good friends I…oh…oh no”

He looked at not quite finished statue of a man that could be some depiction of a saint or an antique figure from roman mythology for how he was shown, but Aziraphale was staring back at his own face, adorned with a soft smile, a scroll in hand and draped in a tunic.

“Well…that is a bit embarrassing. He sketched me once, but I thought that was just for a study and he never told me that he was actually doing, well, this.”

  Crowley just laughed at this, thinking of Michelangelo looking longingly at Aziraphale while the angel was oblivious. Well, Crowley got the Mona Lisa so why not an unnamed statue for his angel.

Aziraphale looked at the statue of himself a last time, smiling fondly and moved on then. Crowley just stayed a moment longer, taking in all the details and the love that must have been involved in the process of making this. The artist must have had quite the crush back then. Crowley laughed to himself, muttering a “Me too Michelangelo, me too…” before catching up to Aziraphale.

They stayed in the museum for a little longer, even holding hands at some point and on their way to the Bentley.

Shortly before they reached the car Crowley stopped.

“Ah…I know it was much later, but do you remember Bernini, angel?”

“I do. What are you up to Crowley…?”

“You do know the Statue ‘ecstasy of Saint Teresa’? I may have drunken a bit too much with the guy responsible and I may have told him a little story about you and the good old Teresa…”

He grinned again, all teeth, while Aziraphale was going through pictures of statues in his mind. He watched in delight as the angel found what he mentioned and looked up at him in a mix of shock and embarrassment.

“Crowley! I told you about that in private and it was a very awkward situation. I never looked like…like that while doing it!”

Crowley opened the door on the passenger side for Aziraphale while laughing and they kept on arguing about this all the way back to the bookshop. He had not forgotten that commentary about the mood swings.