#charles stupid ass the moment he realizes he needs more then just a handful of random rich kid brats to help him
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icarusredwings · 2 months ago
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The world: *in shambles for the millionth time*
Magneto: MWAHAHA!! NOW IS MY TI-
Charles in his pathetic little wheel chair: Erik..
Magneto: Noo!! You cant just do this every time I wanna take over the world!!
Charles, with those big eyes of his: ...Erik ... please.. 🥺🥺🥺
Erik: UUGGHHH FINEEiguessorwhateveridontevencarethisissostupid Hey you should take over my body with your mind! For the greater good or what ever!
Charles: no <3
Erik: AUGH YOU DONT LET ME DO ANYTHING
Magneto isn't a villain he's professor X's lame boyfriend who occasionally dabbles in anarchy and helps them only because of Charles' doe eyes.
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deviant-valeska · 2 years ago
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AYYEEEE I wrote a lil something based on one of @timethehobo 's sketches! (& thank u whoever suggested the idea too 😈👍)
I also put it on ao3 so yeahhhh wooo
ANYWAYS THO!
-----
“Face it, Charles! You can make as many films as you want, but no one's gonna remember you when you're 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥!” Kate spat the words out like in any of her and Charlie's usual arguments, but this time was different. Rather than being met with another snarky bite-back, Charlie stood silently. His face shone with shock and realization. He looked completely broken. It was a look Kate had never seen on Charlie's face; it was so unnatural. She instantly felt a pang of guilt knowing she was the one who'd put it there.
“Charlie, I didn't-” She started, but he was already turning on his heels to walk out of the room. “Shit..” She muttered under her breath. Jamie whistled lowly, “damn, Kate. That was pretty cold, even for you.” Erin jabbed Jamie in the shoulder with her elbow, causing the slightly older woman to turn to her, “what? it's true!”
Erin glanced at Mark who was shaking his head.
“That was way out of line, Kate.” Mark stated as he shot her a glare. Kate sighed, resting her face in her hands. “Fuck! I didn't mean for it to come out like that, I- I didn't know that would get to him so bad! Charles gets on my nerves but I didn't want to completely crush him!”
She paused, angry at herself.
“I should've known.. God, I'm so stupid.”
“𝘍𝘪���𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, something we can agree on!”
“Kiss my ass, Jamie.”
Kate stood up a moment later, this getting Mark's attention. “Where are you going?”
“To find him. To.. to apologize.”
Erin heard this too and thought for a moment before holding something out for Kate to take.
“Hey, um.. give him this. I'm sure he'll need it.”
She handed Kate a fresh, completely unopened pack of Prairie cigarettes. Erin tried to keep one on her person at all times as she knew how pissy he could get about his smokes.
Kate gave a nod, taking the pack, then ventured outside to find the man.
“Charles?!” She called once she got outside.
She eventually spotted him sitting on some concrete steps already having a smoke. She jogged over to his position to join him in sitting there. Even from the side, Kate could see the redness in his cheeks and some faint tear trails along his face. He'd obviously been crying and surprisingly didn't try to hide it very much.
At first, he just completely ignored the fact that she was there. It wasn't until he realized he'd used up his last smoke that he finally looked over to her to see her offering him a fresh one.
Reluctantly, he took it, then fumbled with his lighter before eventually tossing it to the ground after being unable to make it light again.
“Useless piece of shit!” He snarled at it.
Kate crumpled inside even more, her eyes slowly travelling to the lighter. She gently picked it up, feeling her finger brush against the carving in the metal. “Here, let me.”
“I don't need your help.”
“Clearly you do. Stop being so damn stubborn and let me help you out.” She insisted as she, with her much steadier hands, was able to get the lighter working in one strong 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬. Carefully, she held the lighter to the cigarette Charlie now had stuck between his lips, finally getting the damn thing to light correctly. Charlie took a long drag of it, the smoke billowing up around the two of them. The man took a sideways glance towards Kate before forcing out a low, “thanks.”
Kate just gave a stiff nod, then took a moment to gather her thoughts. There wasn't really any great way to say this, not that she could think of and especially not since her and Charlie were 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 similar and 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 stubborn personalities.
So she just said it straight. “Look, I'm sorry.
I mean it. I know we're constantly at each other's throats, but that was too far.
I shouldn't have said it.”
“But you're right.”
“What?”
“You're right. No one's gonna remember me. Please-,” he laughed stiffly, a puff of smoke coming out with it, “some near 50-year-old prick making a true crime show of all things like that hasn't been done to death already?
Of course no one's gonna remember me.
We're lucky to even still be airing. Hell, there's a fucking evic-” He stopped himself, rubbing a hand over his temples. He'd already started though, so what was the point stopping now?
“A fucking eviction notice. If I can't pay it off by the end of the month, we're losing the studio.”
“What? Why didn't you tell us?”
He shrugged, trying to act unaffected by it but Kate could see the fresh tears that began streaming down his face.
“Guess I was just.. trying to kid myself, I- I dunno-” His voice wavered and he stopped to take an even longer drag on the cigarette.
“Hey. We're gonna help, okay? This isn't the end.” Kate sighed, “I know how much I talk about wanting to do bigger things, and I do, but I don't want this to sink in the process. I mean that, Charlie. And I know I don't give you credit, but you've helped get me a lot further than I once thought I'd get. So thank you for that.”
“You deserve it. You're the heart of this show. Really. You keep people interested. I know I drag you through the muck and give you shit a lot-”
“Mm, I'd say nonstop.” Kate butted in, the quirk of a smile on her face. It made Charlie smile a bit too. “Right, okay, fair- I know I give you shit 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱, but I also know you like the challenge. You like to test my patience and my skills and in this industry, it's a good thing to have. You're unafraid. You take risks. And you're a hell of a host, what can I say?”
“God, where's the real Charlie Lonnit and what have you done with him?”
Charlie rolled his eyes, “Jesus, you try to compliment someone-”
“I'm 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, Charles. Thank you. Seriously.”
“Of course. Thank you too.”
For once, the two sat in a comfortable silence while the director finished up his cigarette.
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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years ago
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Aftermath (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)
A/N: Here is my masterlist and here is the link to go to if you’d like to be on any of my taglists! My latest rdr2 fic was a Charles fluffy piece called The Chase if you want to check it out :)
Warnings: mentions of falling off a train, hurt reader, descriptions  of wounds and blood, but mostly fluffiness
Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: After a heist ends badly, Arthur cleans you up and chastises you for not being more careful. 
***
Your horse came to a stop in front of the hitch post just outside of camp. You paused for a moment to breathe now that you were safe. 
Your heart was still racing from the events of earlier and your hands gripped your horse’s reins so tightly that your knuckles hurt. But that pain was nothing compared to the rest of your body. 
“Need a hand, Y/N?” Lenny asked, tying his horse up and moving towards you. 
“Get me down before Arthur-,” You stopped, the sound of hooves pounding against the earth making your stomach clench up. You knew it was him. 
Lenny helped you down from your horse, catching you as you slipped down from the saddle. You tried to put weight on your left leg, but the pain in your ankle was too much. You nearly collapsed. 
“Easy there, Y/N.” Lenny kept his arm around you. 
Your eyes caught sight of Arthur and John coming into camp. 
“Go, Lenny.” You urged, letting him go and giving him a push away from you. 
“Are you sure, Y/N? You can’t even stand on your own.”
“I’ll be fine, Lenny.” You assured him, leaning against the hitch post for support. “He’s angry and I don’t want him yellin’ at you.”
“Tie ‘er up.” You heard Arthur tell John, no doubt talking about his horse. You couldn’t bring yourself to look in the direction of his voice. 
You took a deep breath and started to make your way across camp to yours and Arthur’s tent. You gritted your teeth together. Your nails dug into your palms from how tightly your fingers were curled up. But you pushed through the pain and kept going. You just needed to make it to the tent before Arthur could make a scene in front of everyone. 
“Y/N!” Susan gasped. “What in the hell happened to you, girl?”
You wanted to shake it off, to tell her you were fine, but you knew if you opened your mouth you’d make some sort of pained sound, something that would alert a certain outlaw that you were more injured than you let on. 
“Don’t let her walk away from you, Mrs. Grimshaw.” Arthur spoke, his voice deep and devoid of the usual teasing tone he had when he spoke towards you. 
“What happened, Arthur?” Hosea moved towards you both, wanting to make sure you were okay. 
You shook your head, still hastily walking in the direction of the tent.
“Y/N!”
You didn’t acknowledge Arthur. 
“Don’t you walk away from me, woman!”
You were so close to the tent, maybe another six steps and then you’d be able to—
A large hand grabbed hold of your arm and he pulled you around to face him. You lost your balance, stepping on to your left leg. You cried out in pain and your knee buckled. 
Arthur caught you, one of his arms wrapping around your torso while the other grabbed your hip. 
“Let me go, Arthur!” You pushed against him, your hands flat against his chest as you tried to put as much space between yourself and him as possible. 
“Don’t be fucking stupid, Y/N. Ya got a busted ankle. Shouldn’t be walkin’ on it.”
“I can handle it my-damn-self!” You protested, still pushing against him. You tried to pry his hands away from you, to break his firm grip on you by grabbing his fingers and pulling away but he wasn’t letting go. 
“Quit being so goddamned stubborn, woman.” Arthur growled through clenched teeth. “Ya just fell off a fuckin’ movin’ train! Stop tryin’ to act so tough!”
“Get your hands off of me, Arthur Morgan!”
“Enough!” Dutch boomed, sending a wave of silence across the whole camp. It was only then that you realized everyone was watching you look like a fool. 
Arthur released you. The second he did, your weight was naturally distributed to both of your legs. You winced and lost your balance, using a crate by John and Abigail’s tent for support. 
Arthur flinched as if he’d catch you, but you caught yourself before he could come to the rescue. 
“Y/N, are you okay?” Dutch asked, a furrow in his brow. 
“M’fine.” You forced through gritted teeth. “Wish people would stop askin’ me that.”
“Looks like you got into a bad fight at the saloon and lost.” Micah commented. 
“I’ll fucking show you a bad fight, you fucking inbreed-,”
“You better watch your mouth-,”
“I might be torn to hell but I will beat your ass into the ground-,”
“Cool it, both of you!” John intervened, stepping in front of Micah. 
“You can barely stand on your own, and you’re covered in blood.” Dutch said.  
“S’not my own.” You muttered, but he didn’t bother to listen to you. “Least I don’t think it is.”
“We don’t need you dyin’ off from an infected wound, Y/N. If you won’t let Arthur help you patch yourself up, have one of the girls do it.”
You nodded, locking your jaw tightly. 
Hosea shooed everyone away, knowing very well you’d pick Arthur. You were thankful that he’d give you guys some privacy. It was hard when the only walls you had in camp were made of canvas. 
“Are ya gonna stop bein’ a stubborn ass so I can help you?” Arthur asked. 
You nodded, keeping your eyes down. 
He moved towards you, carefully scooping you up bridal style. You winced, eyes squeezing shut. The way you were moved created a sharp pain in your ribs. 
Arthur took you to your shared tent and sat you down on the cot. 
“Start taking off your clothes.” He moved away from you and began to unravel the sides of the tent to give you privacy. 
Your hands were too heavy. Your muscles ached. Even the thought of moving brought on pain. You knew very well you wouldn’t be able to undress by yourself. 
Arthur glanced over his shoulder to look at you and saw that you were just staring at the picture of his mother he had framed on the chest next to the cot. 
“Pumpkin?”
“Hm?” You didn’t tear your eyes away from the picture. He could see it in your eyes. You weren’t really there with him. You were in your head. Arthur let out a gentle sigh, rubbing the side of his head, and moved to kneel down in front of you. The movement caught your attention, drawing your eyes to him. 
You took in a little breath, straightening your posture as your eyes focused on him. 
“M’gonna go get some things to clean you up with. Get some of your clothes off so I can see what we gotta deal with okay?” His voice, though deep and rumbly, was sweet and gentle. “Maybe put on your little gown, okay? That way we can see everything without you bein’ so uncovered.”
You said nothing, but you kept your eyes on him, on his lips more specifically. He wasn’t sure if you were actually getting everything he was saying, or if you were still zoned out. 
“Can you do that for me, pumpkin?”
You nodded your head a little. 
He rubbed the outside of your thigh before standing up and leaving the tent. 
You watched him go and for some reason seeing him leave made your heart beat harder and faster. Tears stung your eyes and you quickly brought your hand up to wipe them away. 
The events of earlier that day flashed through your head.
It was supposed to be an easy train robbery. Dutch and Hosea had planned it out with Arthur taking the lead. You joined him with Lenny, John, Javier, and Sean. 
Everything went smoothly until another group of eight men on horses showed up with plans to rob the train themselves. And as luck would have it, you used to run with one of the men. He was anything but a nice guy and definitely not someone you wanted to run into during a heist. 
When Arthur returned to the tent, he found you sitting on the cot hunched forward with your head in your hands. You weren’t changed out of your clothes and it appeared that you were crying. 
He placed the bowl of warm water down on the chest by the cot and put the other supplies in his arms down as well. 
He knelt down in front of you, large hands wrapping around your wrists to pull your hands from your face. Your cheeks were stained with tears and your eyes were red. 
“Are you cryin’ cause I was yellin’ at ya?”
You shook your head. 
“Are you hurtin’?”
You nodded. 
“Where at, pumpkin?”
“Everywhere, Arthur.” You cried quietly. “I-I’m so-sorry.”
“Don’t start that now.” He shook his head. “Won’t do you any good to start apologizin’ while you’re upset like this. It’ll just make ya even more upset. Don’t want ya makin’ yourself sick. Now let’s get you outta these clothes.”
“I-I can’t-Arthur, I’m just-,” You couldn’t seem to form sentences even though you knew what you wanted to say. The adrenaline had worn off and you were exhausted. You just wanted to sleep, but you knew Arthur wouldn’t let you do that just yet. 
“S’alright, pumpkin. I’ll help ya.” He reached up and began to unbutton your shirt. 
You fell silent, sniffling every now and then. 
Once your shirt was unbuttoned, he carefully pulled it off of your shoulders. 
“Shit, Y/N.” Arthur cursed under his breath. With your shirt gone, the bruising on your arms and chest could now be seen. 
There were hand-shaped bruises along your upper arms and a few cuts on the back of your right forearm. Your chest had a long bruise across it too. It was an odd pattern and Arthur couldn’t figure out quite what it was. 
“I-I didn’t….” Arthur reached out to tentatively trace his fingers over the bruising on your bicep. “Did I….?”
“No.” Your voice was raspy. “That’s not from you. There was a man on the train. He caught me off guard. He’s the one who gave me a busted face.”
Arthur pressed his lips together in a firm line. You could see the anger festering behind his eyes. His large hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing across the corner of your cracked lips. You winced a little. He apologized softly. 
“What about the one on your chest?”
“There was another feller, he used a metal bar to clothes line me.”
He pulled his hand from your face, eyes lingering on the nasty bruise on your chest. 
“The second I got my footing, I put a knife between his ribs.” 
“That’s my girl.” He praised, making your heart race. 
Arthur reached around you to find the strings to your corset. With one effortless tug, the corset loosened and you took a breath. 
“I know you’re happy to be outta that.” Arthur tossed the corset to the foot of the cot. “Ya think you could stand so we can get your jeans offa ya?”
“I can stand on my right, but not my left.”
“I’ll be on your left. You lean against me. How about that?”
You nodded. Arthur stood up and helped you to your feet. You slipped an arm around his shoulders, grabbing a fistful of his jacket to brace yourself. He put an arm around you too. 
“How am I supposed to get my jeans off when I got one arm around you and you got one arm around me?” You asked him. 
He paused for a moment and you watched as he thought about it. 
“Well, I gotta hand and you gotta hand. Why don’t we use ‘em both?” He suggested. 
You giggled. 
It took some effort, but the two of you worked together to unbutton your jeans and get them down. 
Arthur nearly had a heart attack when he saw the cut on your thigh. How did he not see it before? 
“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”
“M’fine, Arthur.”
He got you into your nightgown and then sat you back down on the bed. 
He started with the thigh wound, cleaning the dried blood and then wrapping a bandage around your leg. From there, he looked down at your ankle. A bruise had already formed and around the joint was swollen. 
He sighed out, then turned his attention to the bowl of warm water. He dipped the clean rag into the water and rung it out. His eyes flickered up to your face. He paused for a moment. 
Your nose had been bleeding but now the blood was smeared across your cheek, dried. Bruising trailed from underneath your eye down to your cheekbone where a cut was from a fist. Your lips were busted and split open. The corners of your eyes were black and blue. Your nose didn’t look broken, so that was good. 
He let out another sigh. You knew he was trying to keep his emotions at bay. 
“I…. Arthur, m’sorry.” You whispered, your voice breaking from how quiet you were. 
He shook his head. His jaw ticked as the muscle tightened. He was gritting his teeth together. 
“How could you be so stupid, Y/N? Told you to wait for Javier or John. I knew there were men coming but you didn’t listen.”
“You would’ve done the same.”
“But I wouldn’t’a been thrown from the goddamned train.”
“You don’t know that.” You mumbled under your breath. 
Arthur took hold of your chin, turning your head so you had no choice but to look at him. 
“Don’t get that way with me, pumpkin.” He started to wipe blood from under your nose. “You could’ve died today. I…. I could’ve lost ya.”
You fell silent. 
He cleaned the blood from your face, using soft, gentle brushes with the rough rag. 
“Arthur? Y/N?” Mary Beth spoke from outside of the tent.
“It’s alright, Mary Beth.” Arthur dipped the rag into the water. “You can step in.”
You looked to him then down at his chest. 
“Just wanted to bring Y/N some supper. Thought maybe she’d be hungry.” Her eyes found you and she gasped softly. “Oh, Y/N. You….” She trailed off. 
“I’m okay.” You assured her, offering her a little smile.
“Thank you, Mary Beth.” Arthur took the bowl of soup from her and placed it down on the chest by the cot. 
“Is there anything I can do for you?” She asked softly.
“Get me some fresh water in this bowl please, would ya?” Arthur asked her. 
“Of course.”
As she slipped out of the tent, Arthur returned his attention to you. 
“The man who threw me over….” You started, but trailed off, unable to finish. 
“I’m gonna find him and kill ‘em.”
“No, Arthur.” Your eyes widened as you looked up at Arthur. “Please. You-You have to promise me never-to never go after him. I’m-I’m fine. Just a little beat up is all.”
Arthur furrowed his brows together. 
“Do you…. You know that feller, don’t you?”
“Used to run with him.” You answered quietly. “He’s not someone you play with, Arthur. He’s worse than Micah.” 
Arthur sighed through his nose. 
“And you didn’t think to tell me back there that you knew him?”
“It wasn’t really high on my list when we had fellers shootin’ at us, Arthur.”
He rubbed his brow.
“I know you’re mad at me.”
“M’not mad at ya, pumpkin. Just…. I was scared that I was gonna lose you.” 
You turned your head away from him but he wouldn’t let you look away for very long. With two fingers beneath your chin, he turned your head back to him. 
“When I saw you go over the side of that train, I-I fuckin’ lost it. Nearly beat the piss outta poor Lenny ‘cause he was in my way. Couldn’t get to you fast enough.” Arthur shook his head. He brushed a tear from your cheek. “When we finally stopped the train and I found you….” He trailed off. 
“It don’t matter now, Arthur. I’m here.” You reminded him, turning your head to kiss his palm. 
“Yeah, but that’s not the point, Y/N.”
“We got dangerous lives, Arthur. You can’t protect me from everything.”
“I can damn sure try.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “You mean the world to me, pumpkin. Ain’t gonna let shit happen to you. Even if that means I gotta stop you from doin’ stupid shit.”
You smiled a little, leaning forward to tuck your head underneath his chin.
Taglist:  @doggone-cowgirl @winterwolf @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust @nonodino @gabstaroc @cal-lifornication @thefirelordm  
If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(
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maximoff-pan · 4 years ago
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Just Faking It? | Peter Maximoff x Reader
Summary: When you and Peter enter a fake relationship, what does that do to your friendship? Can you keep yourself from breaking the one rule you set? Do not fall in love. Can he?
Character: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Fandom: X-Men
Word Count: 2.9k 
A/n: It’s been a hot minute since I posted, but online school has been Kicking. My, Ass. AnyWAy....I am back now! I’m really nervous to post this and I knowwww the ending is trash but it just kept getting worse so (please bear with me). Hopefully my writing will get better. Despite my shitty scribe, I hope you can enjoy this, and maybe, even possibly like it???
Comments and feedback are also very much appreciated! A girl needs inspiration to write (if ya know, ya know).... 
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You’re minding your business (in your room mind you) when your door flies open, and in comes a flurry of grey. As quickly as the door is opened, it’s slammed shut. You know exactly who the culprit is, that part is particularly evident to you, but what puzzles you is the absence of a reason for his dramatic entrance. It’s like he thinks you can read his mind or something....(you can, but that’s besides the point). That’s not really what you’re supposed to be using your mutation for and Peter knows that.
“I really fucked up.” He eventually breathes. But it leaves you with more questions than answers.
You tilt your head towards him, squinting your eyes as if to challenge a response from him. So?” You ask.
“What the fuck do you mean?” Widening his eyes, he appears in a minor panic. “I come rushing in here, telling you that I fucked up, and your only response is: ‘so?’”
“Peter, if I had a dollar for every time you told me you fucked up, I’d certainly be the richest telepath in this mansion, and Charles owns this damn place.”
He cranes his neck in frustration, a sigh falling from his lips. “Well this time, I really fucking mean it.”
He’s fidgeting a lot more than usual, and when you glance at him, his eyes dart from yours. If you know anything about Peter, and you like to think you know almost everything about him, you know that based on the way he’s acting, that he didn’t just fuck something up for himself, he’s also fucked something up for you.
Disappointed, but not at all surprised, you ask, “What did you do? And how does it involve me?”
*****
Peter Maximoff has always had a way with words. No matter what he says...nor how fast he says he it, he can always manage to get you to do whatever he wants. Sure, to the average person Peter may be incessantly annoying, but to you, he is overly charming. He’s always just been so....perfect...for a lack of a better term.
And it’s not like you haven’t tried to bury those feelings. You really really have. But every time you’re near each other, your heart beats a little bit faster and your eyes just fixate on him. He draws you in with his infectiously upbeat, care free - who gives a shit it’s the end of the world, let’s just have fun - kinda vibes. It’s intoxicating as fuck....and so, extremely bad for you. But it’s what you need. You actually need him.
So unfortunately (maybe fortunately...it really depends on the day), Peter Maximoff has you whipped like the fucking whiplash he’s always warning you about...and whether he knows that or not is the real question. You hope to God he doesn’t; you’ve tried so damn hard to hide it. It....Them...Your feelings....And this is the trickiest part. You’re not sure when you came to this realization, but: You’re in love with your best friend.....
And honestly....shit...what the fuck feelings??? That is not a good revelation to be having. That’s never a good revelation to be having. And that’s for many fucking reasons, including but not limited to:
He’s your best friend
He’s your best friend
He’s your best friend
Did you mention he’s your best friend? Did you?
To top it all off, your anxiety about what is justifiably a crapshoot of a situation (being in love with your best friend is no cake walk friends...don’t try this at home) has risen ten-fucking-fold. Because you’d do anything for him.
And that’s how you’ve gotten yourself into the inescapable shit storm you have now: fake dating Peter Maximoff....
Look, in all respects, it could be worse. You’re not really sure how, but that’s just what you’re telling yourself to make this whole thing feel a little better. Damn you and being a good friend...You should’ve just said no. But how could you have possibly said it without giving yourself away?
‘Sorry Peter, I’m too busy being in love with you to be your fake girlfriend. Maybe later.’
You just couldn’t do it to him. He needed your help, and there was just no way you could say no to him. He’s your biggest weakness yet your greatest joy in life. He’s your kryptonite.
*****
Peter feels like shit. He thought dating you would be the best thing in the entire fucking universe....and it is. Except for the fact that it’s not real.
When Scott and Jean had called bullshit on Peter for telling them he in fact, does have a girlfriend, (when he really, really doesn’t), he panicked. So he told them the name of the first person he thinks of, the first person he always thinks of: you.
If Peter’s being honest with himsef, the whole conversation was stupid to begin with, and he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. But Peter lives for laughter, particularly making his friends laugh, even sometimes at the expense of a couple of his other friends.
It started off as a slow bit of teasing, and Peter was getting laughs fromJubilee and Kurt, who were both quite enjoying his little comedy fest. Peter in his carefree manner, jabbed joke after joke about Scott being whipped by Jean, mocking their incessant pda and need to be around each other, when Scott threw it back at him.
“Have you ever even had a girlfriend Maximoff?”
And that’s when Peter fucked up.
That’s when he proceeded to say: “Fuck you Summers. If you must know, I have a girlfriend.”
I have a girlfriend...present tense. Which is nothing but a lie. A blatant, blatant lie. But it just slipped out of his mouth, and while Scott and Jean both called bullshit, he couldn’t back down at that point. It was far too late, and would be far too embarrassing to try and weave himself out of the web he had created. So he told them he was dating you, which...fair. You already act like you’re dating 99% of the time, and you are in love with each other (not that either of you knows the other’s feelings on the matter), so it would seem very believable....But the big problem with this blurting of words (as Peter had called it later), laid in the fact that Peter had to do this without your consent. You had no idea nor a choice in being brought into this, and that’s why Peter feels like he’s fucked up so much.
Because as much as he wants to date you, and as much as he loves dating you (even though it’s all pretend), he can’t help but fear that you resent him for bringing you into his problems. If you do resent it, you’re doing a pretty damn good job of hiding it. Every person that has passed by you, the news of your relationship spreading fast, has told you: it was only a matter of time. And then they’d smirk at you, seemingly proud that they had predicted this all along.
And yet, it’s all fake, and all your classmates and teachers, (except Charles...because he knows the both of you too well and honestly is too fed up with your shenanigans to intervene), are wrong. They’re being fooled...but Peter can’t help but wonder if he’s the one being fooled. Because it feels so real. Too real.
*****
He holds your hand in the halls, swinging your arm back and forth teasingly, telling himself that he’s only keeping up appearances, and yet his whole aura brightens. Peter’s not acting, and the fact that you are genuinely scares him. Because you’re so believable, and it hurts so much to have you, but to know it’s all a lie.
“I guess I owe it to you Maximoff.” Scott sneaks in between you two, breaking not only your hands apart, but popping the blissful bubble you had been in. “I’ve never seen two people so right for each other.”
The smile drops from Peter’s face, but like always, you’re there to save him. “I know.” You send Scott a sly grin. “You never should have doubted us.”
Us, Peter thinks. He knows you mean it, in the sense that you’re best friends, but it only hurts him more. The frown on his face tightens, as he attempts to avoid your gaze. He can feel you pulling him into your side, wrapping your arms around him. This action snaps an automatic response, and his lips pull into a soft smile, his face relaxing.
“Never will again.” Scott smiles fondly at the two of you, seemingly genuinely happy for you.
You place a kiss on Peter’s cheek, nearly grazing the corner of his mouth, and in that moment he wants you to kiss him, for real this time. It’s an urge he’s had before, but never as innate as this.
On instinct, he turns your body so that you’re facing him, and he kisses you. It’s instantaneous and it feels so so right. Your initial shock fades away and you lean into the kiss, your arms gracefully resting on Peter’s shoulders, slowly wrapping loosely around his neck. You raise onto the tips of your toes, desperately yearning for more. It feels like a tidal wave washing over you, soaking you in a plethora of feelings.
This has to be something, you think. What you have...it must mean something. Because you can feel his energy, his thoughts and desperations pouring into your mind. His exact thoughts are blurred, but you can feel the emotions that are flooding through.
“Jeez. Message sent.” Scott mumbles with a slight joking tone in his voice. “I’ll never make that mistake again.”
By the time you let each other go, Scott is retreating down the hallway, and you stare sheepishly at each other, both of you wondering: what the fuck was that?
*****
Nearly half an hour later, you’re once again sitting on your bed, when Peter comes barging through your door. A strong sense of déjà vu washes over you, your eyes quickly darting to his. To Peter, that half an hour feels like multiple. You should have remembered that his internal clock works a lot differently than yours.
The expression on his face is pained. “I’m sorry.” He blurts out. “I know I fucked up.”
“Peter-“ you try to interject, but it’s no use.
“I don’t know what I was thinking (Y/n). I just...I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake and I didn’t mean to drag you into my shit...”
It was a mistake. Your heart drops. You could have sworn that there was something between you, that it wasn’t as one sided as you had once thought.
“Do you regret it?” You’re trying to convey a front on neutrality, but it feels like it’s faltering.
“Of course.” He replies, and your heart shatters further.
“Oh.”
Your voice sounds so dejected that Peter has to rewind the tone of your ‘oh’ in his mind. Did you think it meant something? Did it mean to you as much as it means to him?
“(Y/n).” His eyebrows raise in conflict. “I didn’t mean-“
“It’s alright Pete...I understand.” You’re warm with him. You think he’s just turned you down, and you’re being so kind to him, trying to make it easier for him. Little do you know about the war he’s fighting in his mind. Just how much he wants to tell you how he feels. “It was silly of me to even entertain that it meant anything.”
But it did! But it does! He wants so badly to say, but the words won’t come out of his mouth. Blurting words before he could think of the repercussions was what had gotten him into this situation, and now that he needs to blurt what he’s thinking, his mouth can’t seem to move.
You can see the look on his face. He feels guilty. He doesn’t want to hurt you. It was foolish of you to say yes to him, to being his fake girlfriend, when you knew this would happen.
“Peter, I’m sorry.” You’re really trying to demonstrate to him how much you hope this hasn’t ruined your relationship. “It’s okay. I’m so okay, as long as we can still be friends.”
“No!” That’s the one fucking word that Peter is able to get out of his mouth? No?
Your eyes drop to the floor, and you avoid his gaze. Just a few days earlier Peter had been talking about just how much he’d fucked up, now you guess it’s you who’s the one that fucked up.
“Oh.”
And there’s that dejected ‘oh’ again that has Peter reeling. “That’s not what I meant!” He pushes the words out.
You’re becoming more and more flustered, embarrassed, and confused by the moment. “I don’t know what you want from me Pete! Just be fucking straight with me. That’s all I ask.”
Your frustration is understandable and Peter knows it...does he ever. He’s thinking, trying to get the words to come out when an idea comes to him, and he finally is able to calmly state: “Read my mind.”
Now this is a complicated statement for a number of reasons. The first reason is quite simple. When you became friends, you and Peter had made a set of rules, promising to always be open with each other, and to never use your powers on each other. And that was Peter’s biggest rule: never read my mind. Now he’s telling you to, pleading you to, because it’s the only way he can tell you how he feels. His thoughts could never lie to you, they could never hide from you if you didn’t want them to.
And second, breaking that rule would mean breaking that promise. It goes against the very foundation of your friendship, and so for Peter to ask this of you, it must mean that he has something very important to say. You’re just not sure you’re brave enough to hear it...
“Peter,” you question, tilting your head in absolute confusion, as if to say to him, are you sure?
“Read my mind.” He affirms. A look of panic crosses your features, and when he sees the distressed you are, he nods gently. “It’s okay. I promise. You can do it.”
You nod your head, signaling to him that you’re going to do it. “Okay.” You say timidly, entering the complex of his mind.
You’re flooded with memories of the two of you together, laughing and beaming with happiness. Pushing through the visuals, you reach his thoughts, allowing your mind to hear them clearly. After years of blocking them out instinctively, it feels so foreign to open that door.
‘I love you.’ It’s Peter’s voice in your mind. It’s unmistakable, yet so surreal that you almost miss what he says...almost. ‘I’m in love with you.’
Your eyes blink open in shock, pulling yourself so suddenly out of his mind, the door to his thoughts slamming shut once again. He’s watching you patiently, waiting for your response. But Peter’s never really been one for waiting.
“I never wanted it to be fake you know.” He breaks the silence for you. “If I had known just how hard it would be to fake our relationship, I never would have thought of saying your name in the first place.”
A chuckle of relief bubbles from your throat. “You better not be fucking with me...”
“I’d never do that.” He says.
“I beg to differ.” You joke, eyes staring softly into his. “The amount of times you’ve fucked with me on shit is insurmountable.”
“Hmm.” He grins menacingly. “And yet, I’ve never fucked you.” He raises one eyebrow in a mockingly seductive manner. Only Peter would make a sex joke to lessen the tension...or to ruin what would’ve been a perfectly romantic moment....you’re not really sure which.
You nearly choke on your own laugh. “Already jumping to third base Pete? Last time I checked, you were only on first.”
“That’s cause I’m so fucking fast baby.” His wink sends you into an internal conflict. and you don’t know if it’s really funny, or really hot. His eyes are pouring into yours, as if daring you to just kiss him...
...So you do. Your arms fly up to wrap around his neck as you pull Peter’s lips onto yours. He melts into your embrace almost instantly, a giggle bubbling in your mouth as he moves his hands up from your waist.
He pulls away with a dumbstruck smile on his face, his silver hair flopping in all directions. “I want to make this real.” He places a hand softly on your cheek.
“I do too.” You reply, hopefully.
His eyes soften at the sight of you. “Be my girlfriend? For real this time?”
“For real this time.” You nod, a grin stretching across your face.
And it’s truly the most at peace you’ve ever felt in your life. Which will probably last all of five seconds before Peter comes running back to you, telling you he’s fucked something up again, but that doesn’t matter to you, as long as you have each other.
“Maybe, for once in my life,” Peter’s voice is low and calm, “I didn’t fuck something up.”
Maybe for once in his life, Peter Maximoff had gotten something right...
*****
Tags:
@idjitdestiel @what-the-stories-have-foretold @lucyqueenofthestars @justsomerandomjunk @cherikxstucky @scorpionchild81
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onthepyre · 3 years ago
Text
even if the oceans turn to sawdust
guess who wrote a b99 fic because they rewatched johnny and dora and got emotional about it. me. i'm the bitch.
what's running through jake's head during all three johnny and dora kisses. just 1.2k words of them making out.
He is kissing Amy.
Jake is kissing Amy and the only thing he can focus on is how bad he feels about it.
The woman who, just hours ago, he had agreed to be totally platonic with. Coworkerly, even. Because that's what she wanted. And here he is, fucking it all up, disrespecting her boundaries and making an ass out of himself. It's so their cover isn't blown. He knows that. He knows she'll understand. He knows, even, that she is into him, because what sane person who isn't in love with you acts the way she did earlier, except maybe for him? She seemed so okay with pretending to be his fiancée, and the things she said about why she liked him were genuine. He could tell by the look on her face — she dropped the stupid smile she'd held for the whole night. And who kisses cheeks with tongue?
And yet, Jake is in the wrong and he knows it. He should've given her a warning, at least. But, God, it seems like she's into this. Amy catches on fast and then, and then, he can feel her smile, just a little, and he isn't sure what it means. He assumes the worst, which does take some mental gymnastics — why would she be laughing at him? So he goes with the most likely explanation, which is that this is reassurance, and she's telling him that she's okay with… whatever this is, in order to distract the target. But some part of him, the part that wonders if he's the exception to her "no dating cops" rule, hopes maybe this isn't subliminal messaging. That maybe she's just happy he's kissing her. Her hands are warm and gentle and she's not like anyone he's ever kissed before. And then her tongue slides across his bottom lip and he almost short circuits.
The man interrupts them and Jake can't help but be a little disappointed. But Amy's hands don't move, so neither do his, and they keep holding each other for the rest of the (thankfully short) conversation. It's a blur; Jake is pretty sure she implied they, or Johnny and Dora, were going to have sex in the hallway, and he doesn't know what to think about that. But the man leaves and they are left alone again. Amy doesn't apologize, so neither does he. They can't look at each other. Jake stares at the center of her forehead as they speak. He shakes her hand, because that's the thing to do in this situation, he tells himself. And he tries to convince himself that she doesn't sound like she enjoyed it.
———
Amy is kissing him now.
Amy is kissing him, and this isn't Johnny and Dora, he knows. They're themselves, they're Jake and Amy — but Jake and Amy are kissing so they don't look suspicious. It's more urgent, this time, more frantic. The stakes are even higher, because this is the man that they need, and they need him to believe them right now. But even if the last kiss wasn't an act, at least on his end, this one feels a little more real. So real, in fact, that it almost hurts him. Her hands are on his face and she's pressed close against him and he thinks, Wow, so this is what it's like. For a second, he forgets about the buyer, focusing on her lips against his and trying to make a memory out of the feeling. It's not hard. He knows they'll never be the same after this. He knows, too, that he won't ever get to kiss her again, because he will be awkward and cold and so will she. And it will forever hang in the air between them as a what if.
It also hurts because she hit his head on the tree.
But that doesn't matter right now, because Amy is pulling away and he remembers why they're here. It throws him. He curses himself for it, because he's kept his cool in tenser situations than this, and because now she knows. Well, she probably knew as soon as he kissed her the first time, but there's no denying it now. He is head over heels for Amy and she is aware of it. She shouts something weird about them being colleagues and he follows it up with his own bullshit about this being a work event, more to reassure himself than her or the buyer. So they arrest him. So they go back to the precinct. So they don't get to be Johnny and Dora, or Jake and Amy about to have their cover blown, anymore. So for a while it isn't the same between them.
———
They are kissing again.
They're kissing in the evidence lock-up and everything clicks into place. He hates change, he hates it so much, but just this once he is glad for it. Hell, for half of a regrettable second, he's glad that Holt is leaving, because he is kissing Amy and Amy is kissing him and suddenly his life makes sense. He knew it, but now it really hits him. This is where he is supposed to be. In the evidence lock-up, kissing her.
Maybe not exactly. But with Amy holding him, the same way she had last time, but different somehow, Jake is, for once, content. They take their time. She's an amazing kisser, he realizes, and not just because it's her. Her lips are soft and, since he isn't pressed up against a tree, she's so gentle it almost aches. They are closer than they've ever been and Jake feels at home. He thinks about that for just a moment, not long enough to distract him. Amy has always been his home. Always a safe place to land after anything big, anything scary. He hopes he's the same to her. He tries to tell her that through the kiss, and through his palms flat against her back and all the other places she's touching him. He wonder if that's too much, but it doesn't really matter right now.
One of them breaks the kiss. He isn't sure who; maybe it's both of them. But they don't go far. Their foreheads rest together and she lets out a quiet sigh. Against his mouth. Which almost kills him. Jake moves to look at her, to verify that it is her, that he just kissed Amy Santiago for real, not for keeping their cover. And it is. And her eyes are wide and he's not the best at reading emotion but whatever she's feeling has to be something close to what he is because God, she looks starstruck. She's beautiful. Her mouth is hanging open and so is his, he notices, and they match. He inhales to say something, anything, maybe I love you or Marry me or I think our kids are going to be cute. And Charles knocks on the door. He yells something at them, which Jake doesn't really hear. Amy keeps staring at him, and he keeps staring at her. He moves to say something again, and doesn't, again. So he turns and they leave.
As they're going, she grabs his hand for just a second and squeezes. Hard. He knows she means it.
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arthurmorgansleftlung · 4 years ago
Text
Secret Cupid 2021 (Part 2)
This @rdr-secret-cupid is for @outlawsworld ! I’m so sorry about it being a little late. I really hope that you like this, I really tried to incorporate horses and your appearance the best that I could without being overbearing.
Sorry about any formatting issues, I’m on mobile!
Happy (belated) Valentine’s Day!
——————
The Way He Touched You
Arthur Morgan x Reader
Word Count: 2,350
Warnings: None really, but there is briefly some hostile words and behaviors aimed at the reader.
You were a successful seductress and thief. You were making hundreds, sometimes thousands of money from tempting big burly oafs. They always figured you were no threat, with your small stature and physique. And don’t forget about your oh-so-charming Southern Belle act! These men were fools, and you played them like a fiddle.
Your mistake was staying in the same town and seducing every man who lived there. You no longer had an audience. No bites. No money. Until one day, when a new man rode into town on the finest horse you’d ever seen. He was loaded. But he was big, and strong.
You seduced the man, tricking him into buying you two a night at the nicest hotel around. Once you made your way into the room, however, that’s where things went wrong.
You’d gotten to the point in your routine where you would normally incapacitate your victim. Normally you would find an object close by, like a candle stick or a boot that had been kicked off. Well, when you smashed a glass dish over the man’s head, he did not pass out. Rather, he started bleeding profusely and screaming at you. You bolted out of the hotel, bursting through the door and jumping on the first horse you saw: his.
With a quick kick to the sides the Arabian horse went into a full gallop, the sound of its hooves hitting the ground mixed in with the angry yells of the man you just failed to rob.
Pretty soon, the law and the townspeople were on you. But your stolen horse was faster than them. Eventually it seemed that they had given up. You couldn’t hear or see anything. You slowed the horse and dismounted, giving it a nice pat and an apple (which was also stolen).
You must have fallen asleep, because when you woke up to the sound of thundering hooves and angry men the sky was a different shade of blue. Luckily the horse you’d stolen, who you now recognized was a girl, was still nearby, grazing on the overgrown grass. Unfortunately, she was not a very camouflaged horse. She was the brightest shade of white with a pink nose and blue eyes. The mob found you easily.
You ran and mounted the mare, kicking her to make her go. The horse bolted, and you made decent ground, but the howling of nearby wolves spooked her and she threw you off.
“Fuck!“ You were panicking. You had no other means of escaping. Horse theft was punishable by hanging. Is this how you would go? Suddenly a horse skidded and stopped beside you.
“Those friends of yours?” The man asked.
“No! Can you get me outta here?” You were on the verge of crying. You didn’t want to die.
“I can try! Hop on up here, miss.” You hoped you could trust this man. With a prayer you hopped onto the back of the man’s horse, and after grabbing hold of his shirt you were off. His horse galloped faster than the Arabian had for you, perhaps he was a kind and tender man with his horse.
The man, whose name you had learned was Arthur, took you into a concealed part of the wilderness. You were scared of where he was bringing you, but more scared of what would happen if you jumped off. You saw the dim light of a campfire, the sound of people talking, horses snorting back and forth as they noticed a stranger approaching.
You found yourself in a camp full of people. Arthur lead you over to a tent, where a man with jet black hair and a mustache greeted you. You told him your story, and he laughed and recommended you become friends with a girl named Karen. Apparently she was in a similar “business” as you.
That was almost a full year ago now.
Now you were a dutiful helper around camp. You of course did the regular chores that Ms. Grimshaw assigned you, but you had also become the caretaker of the gang’s horses.
Except Arthur’s. He insisted on taking care of his mare. The one time he had found you taking care of his horse he didn’t talk to you the rest of the day! You found it strange but you respected his wishes.
Currently you were grooming Taima, Charles’ Appaloosa mare. You were running a brush through her black and white fur, giving her encouraging words as you went on. You had finished your other chores: washing and drying clothes, washing bowls for the evening stew; the same old routine. A calm breeze drifted through the camp, causing leaves to flap around and Taima’s man to flow, ever so slightly.
You noticed the sound of hooves alongside the rustling of the flora around you. Arthur was riding in. He had been gone a couple of days on a hit. His horse looked exhausted, covered in sweat and mud.
“Hey, Arthur.” You greeted him. He tipped his hat towards you. He hitched his horse and walked towards you.
“Would you mind givin’ my old girl a brush?”
“I thought you didn’t like me tendin’ to your horse.” He sensed the slight attitude in your voice, you’d been holding a slight, although stupid, grudge since Arthur went silent on you.
“Please, (Y/N), she’s filthy. I can’t tend to ‘er right now...” Arthur headed off to Dutch’s tent, followed by the closing of the flaps. You gave Taima a once over; she looked shiny and clean. You headed over to Arthur’s mare, who nickered in response to you patting her hindquarters.
You gently brushed her, caked mud falling off with ease. She would need a real bath to return to her solid black color. You cleaned her as best as you could. Although her white socks were still a beige color, she looked pristine everywhere else.
Arthur soon returned, letting out a low whistle at the sight of his horse. Of course he didn’t like that he didn’t do it himself, but he praised you on your grooming work.
“You wanna go for a ride, (Y/N)?”
“Why?” You eyed him suspiciously.
“Do you wanna go for a ride or not?”
Without another word you got up on Arthur’s horse and wrapped your arms under his, your hands resting on his shoulders. The mare trotted into the woods, and once you all reached the main road you took off towards Valentine.
When you arrived, Arthur hitched his horse up outside of the stable. Was he buying treats? You followed him inside the stable, where he was greeted by the owner who was eyeing you suspiciously.
“Whatcha think about that one?” Arthur pointed towards a palomino American Standardbred.
“That’s a fine horse,” you said quietly. You didn’t have the money for such a creature, which you voiced with Arthur.
“‘Scuse me sir, I’d like to purchase this horse for my wife!” Arthur gestured towards the golden horse. Wife? Wife? Your face flushed red with anxiety and embarrassment. Arthur paid for the horse, your horse. He got you basic tack as well, and made sure you were good to ride. You didn’t know what to say.
You began to leave the stable, but the owner called after you.
“Wait! Here’s a brush and some treats... for... you...” A realization had been made. “Why— sir! That ain’t your wife! That’s the whore that stole all the men’s money in this town!”
“Don’t you call my wife no such thing.” Arthur warned the man, his hand gripping
his holster. You were flabbergasted, both at Arthur’s new title for you and that you had been caught... again.
The man grabbed at the skirt of your dress, trying to pull you off of your horse. You kicked at him, “Stop it!” You hissed at him, glaring him down. You weren’t scary at all, but perhaps Arthur’s presence gave you a leg up in intimidation. He grabbed at you again, his dirty hand gripping your thigh through the fabric. Without hesitation Arthur drew his pistol and shot the man, blood splatter making its impression on your dress and skin. Now you were certain your dress was soiled.
“Let’s go.” Arthur grumbled. Arthur called for his horse and mounted up. You both calmly left the stable, but you felt like you were burning alive with all of the eyes on you two. You could hear a familiar voice, the sheriff. As soon as you and Arthur had made it close to the outskirts, you bolted. You made a detour and headed towards Emerald Ranch, to avoid giving directions to camp if somebody followed you.
The sheriff and his deputies followed you, but gave up easily. Your horse was kind to you, and easy to handle. But he began to spook. You held on tightly to the reins, causing the horse even more irritation.
“Let loose on the reins, keep your ass in the saddle!” Arthur guided you. You already knew this, but you tried your best to follow his directions. Your horse did calm down after a moment, snorting at you after the ordeal. Arthur smiled smugly at you.
“So I’m your wife now, huh?” You teased Arthur, who was flushed a crimson red. He hadn’t really thought about that.
“In Valentine you are.”
If only he knew how you felt about it. You didn’t push it. You thanked Arthur for your horse, who you’d decided to call Flavian, after his golden appearance. Arthur thought the name was weird, but didn’t question it. The two of you rode off towards camp, traveling through the oil fields to get back. It was a long ride, but a safe one. The hot sun burned your skin, turning you pink. You didn’t think you’d be in the sun for so long, you hadn’t really prepared.
In a daze, you felt something hit your chest. Arthur’s hat. You looked at him, his head already facing forward.
“You’re turnin’ red. Just wear it for now.” You put on the hat, the scent of him forcing its way into your nose and causing a familiar heat to rush to your face. You reached the wooded surroundings of the camp, just as the sun began to set.
After you’d arrived Arthur grabbed a bowl of Pearson’s stew and retreated to his tent. You grabbed a bowl as well and followed Arthur, you needed to give his hat back. When you got close enough, Arthur was sitting and holding his head in his hands, frustrated.
“Arthur?”
“Yes, Miss (Y/N)?” He seemed startled.
“Your hat...” You pulled the hat off of your head, reaching it out for him to take. He looked up at you, beet red. He reached for the hat and gently took it from your hand. “Are you okay...?” You stepped closer, into his tent. He seemed a bit concerned about this, his eyebrows knitting together.
“I’m fine, Miss (Y/N). Just tired. Confused.”
“Confused about what, Arthur?”
“You.”
“Well, what about me?” You kind of laughed, trying to conceal any nervousness in your voice.
“Well, I— It’s not important, (Y/N).”
You silently took a deep breath. You stepped closer to Arthur and sat down beside him on his cot. He recoiled a bit. Ouch.
“What, Arthur?” You were hurt at how repulsed he seemed to be by your presence. Sure, he bought you a horse, but probably because Dutch or Hosea told him to.
“The way that man touched you today. I didn’t like it.” He mumbled. He knew of your past, how you used to tempt men. What did Arthur mean?
The thought of you ever being touched by somebody filled Arthur with a quiet anger. He was jealous today. Jealous and protective and possessive. Over a woman that wasn’t his to begin with. He had been for months, and it worried him.
“I didn’t like him touchin’ you. I don’t like... I don’t like anybody touchin’ you!”
“Arthur.” You brought your small frame closer to him. This time he didn’t recoil. You turned your head to look at him, his eyes avoiding you. You brought a gentle hand to his forearm, his bright turquoise eyes met your green ones. “Arthur I’m in love with you... how could you not tell? Ever since you saved me...”
“You can’t be in love with me...” Arthur laughed with a hint of sadness. He turned to face you, your knees touching. He brought a calloused hand to your cheek, looking like he wanted so desperately to kiss you, but pulled himself away. He seemed ashamed.
“But I am. I am in love with you, Arthur Morgan.” You looked down at the ground, fearful of what he might respond with.
How could you be so vulnerable? How could you just tell him you’ve been in love with him for a year? What now? Were you going to tell him how every time he left on a mission that you’d be so sick to your stomach with worry that you were scared you’d vomit? How you felt a twinge of jealousy and then guilt when he interacted with any of the girls? How every time you saw him you’d try to take a picture in your mind, just in case?
Tears pricked at your eyes. Oh, great, you were crying now. Arthur lifted your head back up and wiped his thumb across your cheek, wiping your tears away. He smiled softly at you.
“We can talk about this later, (Y/N)... I can’t stand seein’ you cry.”
You latched onto Arthur, in the tightest hug you could manage. He brought his big arms around you, careful not to squeeze too tight.
You don’t remember much of anything after. Arthur had been right, you were both exhausted from the heat today.
The next morning you woke up, still encased in Arthur’s arms. It was still early, nobody else had woken up but you were sure somebody had seen the two of you. Arthur also seemed to be awake, and ran his fingers through your hair.
“I love you too, (Y/N).”
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karlajoyner · 4 years ago
Note
first of all: i absolute LOVE your write
also....can you write an enemies to lovers smut with reggie or jeremy (what you feel more comfortable with), and if you have a taglist for jatp could you add me?
(english isn't my first language, sorry if there's something wrong!)
Why Wait? (Jeremy Shada x Reader)
Tumblr media
A/N: So I got two requests a Jeremy one and a Reggie or Jeremy enemy to lover one so I put them in one. I have a enemy to lover one coming out about Charlie. It’s a smut and gets well aggressive so make sure not to read it if it makes you uncomfortable! It was as well per someone's request so I hope you guys enjoy!
Requested by: @epikskool (Tumblr)
@agotzmann (Wattpad)
Warnings: None
(P.S I do not do smut for Jeremy, Madison, Jadah, Booboo, and or Sacha! Only for their characters!)
————
I sighed getting out my car unprepared for tonight's events. My best friend Savannah invited me to a game night with some of her co-stars from her new show on Netflix. They were nice people I visited on set a couple times when they were shooting in LA and got along pretty well with most of them. Well all except one. Jeremy. Jeremy Shada.
Flashback
I frustratedly walked towards Savannah's set beyond pissed. I was visiting my best friend on set today when I anonymously received photos from an unknown number. After 2 hours of sitting in her trailer I had just confirmed that my now ex boyfriend had been cheating on me and to make it worse it was with someone who I though was my friend. I finally reached the location she was filming at watching as she spoke to the director who was probably giving her instruction. She threw a glance at me realization hitting her what we had suspected since I got the pictures was true. I stood back as she said something to the director before making her way towards me.
"Did you talk to him?" She asked.
"Yeah. He admitted it to me. He straight up told me he cheated on me" I said on the verge of tears.
"He's such an asshole" She whispered pulling me into a hug.
“I know. I just don't know what I'm gonna do Savannah. I live with the man for fucks sake" I sobbed pulling away.
"Well for starters your moving in with me"
"I can't do that Sav, our lease isn't up for another 2 months"
"Your not staying with that jerk for 2 months y/n. Over my dead body am I gonna let my best friend stay in the same apartment with such a pig" She said getting ticked off. I sighed knowing there was no point in trying to argue right now when I was filled with too many emotions to count. I simply nodded fidgeting with my fingers.
"Go wait for me in my trailer. I almost done with this scene then I'm done for the day. After that we can go pick up some clothes then head over to mine for a breakup ritual"
"You really think that'll fix this?" I asked letting another tear slip out.
"No but it'll sure help. We'll order takeout, paint our nails, and have a high school musical marathon"
"Your just saying that because you can't wait to drool over Zac”
"Well yeah but your gonna be doing the same"
"Fair enough" I said smiling at the girl.
"See you in a bit k?"
"Okay" I smiled walking away.
I was walking back the route I came from when I received a message.
"You know we don't have to stop it here if don't want to😏" I read aloud making anger boil in me. He's such a fucking Asshole.
I groaned in frustration suddenly feeling myself collide with something hard.
“What the fuck!?" I cried holding my forehead. I looked up realizing I had just collided with an opening door.
"Oh my god are you okay?"
"Do I look okay? Are you fucking serious?"
"Look I'm sorry but you don't have to be such a dick about it" The person spoke. I finally looked up seeing a guy around my age who looked awfully familiar but I couldn't place my finger on it.
"I'm the dick? You hit me with a fucking door"
"Look I said I'm sorry" He said sticking out a hand to help me up. I was so fed up with men today. I scoffed standing up on my own.
"I don't need your help. Just watch where your going next time"
"It's not my fault. I didn't know anyone was gonna be passing by"
"So it's my fault I just got knocked to the ground by an opening door?" I shouted holding the part of my head that was now throbbing.
"W-well n-"
"You know what save it! I'm tired of men today I'm tired of everyone" I said passing by the dark haired guy bumping his shoulder in anger. That guy ended up being Jeremy Shada. Savannah's cast mate. And now my worst enemy.
“I brought lasagna” I announced to the group of people who were in the living room. Specifically Charlie, Savannah, Sacha, Owen, Jadah, Tori of course, and unfortunately enough Jeremy.
“Yes!” Sacha shouted with excitement. I giggled putting down the dish in the kitchen going over to greet everyone.
“Hey Charles!”
“How you doin?” He smirked making me laugh.
“I’m doin good baby. How you doin?” I played along. Recreated one of my favorite scenes from friends.
“This is why I love you! You get me!” He shouted pulling me in for a hug.
“Hey Owen. Sacha” I greeted the two boys with a hug.
“Y/n! We missed you the last couple weeks on set”
“Owen you were shooting in Vancouver”
“I know we just really missed you. Savannah was no fun”
“I was fun!” The girl shouted form the kitchen.
“What he means is we missed our biggest cheerleader” Tori corrected.
“I am great aren’t I?” I jokingly flipped my hair on my shoulder earning laughs from around the room.
“I beg to differ” Jeremy’s voice spoke making me roll my eyes.
“Seriously? I just got here and your gonna start?” I asked looking at him.
“Hey! Guys! It’s game night let’s chill out tonight” Charlie tried to reason shuffling the uno cards in his hand.
It wasn’t the first time he or any of the other cast tried to talk me and Jeremy down but sometimes his side comments got to me so much that I’d burst. God I hated his luscious dark hair. And his snarky little smirk. And his beautiful brown eyes. And his adorable dimples.
“Charlie’s right” I spoke calming down.
“It’s game night. I’m with my friends and nothings gonna ruin that. Even you Shada”
“It was ruined the moment you stepped in”
“Man chill out” Owen said placing a hand on Jeremys shoulder. I watched as the two small talked on the side before turning my attention back to the rest of group.
Internally groaning I took a seat in between Jadah and Savannah who had finally made it back to the living room.
“Glad to see your lasagna didn’t come out burnt” Savannah said making me let out a giggle. Referring to the first time I tried baking lasagna.
“Sav that was one time and it was an accident”
“I can think of other things that were an accident” Jeremy said my eyes going wide. Gasps filling the room.
“Dude yo chill out”
“That’s low even for you Jeremy” I said standing up and making my way down the familiar hallway. I reach a room I recognized as Toris. Locking myself in. I began to cry sitting down on her bed in the center of the room.
That was it. Those were the words that finally triggered me.
Flashback
“Your a drunk! Can’t even take care of your own daughter!” “She was a fucking accident!” “You don’t mean that daddy” I cried holding my chest to my knees. Drowning out the voices of my parents fighting. Wanting anything. Anything to happen that would get me out of this house. But nothing did.
My thoughts were cut off by a sudden knock on the door.
“Who is it?” I questioned wiping the stray tears that had escaped.
“It’s me”
“Who’s me?” I asked sniffling.
“Jeremy”
“Go away you fucking prick”
“Can we talk? Please” He pleaded confusion hitting me. Why would he want to talk to me? Why now?
I made my way toward the door slowly unlocking it.
“What do you want?” I asked moving back onto the bed.
“I wanna apologize. Savannah told me about your parents. She also said if I didn’t cool it she’d have my head” He said moving slowly to sit beside me on the bed.
“Yeah. She’s a sweet girl but she’ll have your head in seconds” I tried to joke only to have more tears fall down my face.
“Look I’m really sorry for acting like such a jerk”
“A dick” I corrected him earning a chuckle from the guy.
“A dick. I’m really sorry”
“For the sake of our friends outside. I guess I’m sorry too. Sav always talks about how much of a great guy you are but I never actually got to know you. I honestly I don’t know why I always went out my way to attack you”
“I do” He spoke. My head cocking to the side in confusion.
“I mean I know why I always acted like that”
“And why is that?”
“Maybe it was to conceal the big fat crush I had on you since the moment I laid eyes on you”
“What?” I questioned looking him in the eyes.
“Don’t make me say it again. Look I’ve acted like such an ass especially lately. But every time I see you I just remember the first time we met. How beautiful you were. But then we interacted. And now I realize how terrible I really was. Then the way you reacted didn’t help the situation. I mean it looked like you weren’t having the best day and I made it worse. And guilt has been eating away at me ever since but I could never bring myself to apologize because of my stupid pride”
“Your pride is pretty stupid. But your face makes up for it” I spoke with a nervous smile.
“Was that a compliment?” He teased.
“So what if it was? What are you gonna do about it Shada?”
“Well for starters.....I’m gonna take you on a date. A proper date. Maybe to the beach. We could have a picnic. Make a day out of it. The I’ll drive you back to yours and Savannah’s. We’ll walk hand and had up to your door. We’ll make casual small talk about how great it was. Then I’ll say we should do this again sometime and you’ll agree of course. Then I’ll lean in at the last second and....kiss you”
He said our bodies seemingly to have gotten closer within the period he had begun talking to now.
“Why wait?” I whispered finally looking straight at him to see him already looking at me.
We gazed into each other’s eyes until our lips met in the middle. The kiss was short but sweet. We finally pulled away looking down I watched as he intertwined our fingers. Smiles plastered on both of our faces
This was it. No more backhanded comments. No more glaring at each other from across the room. No more uncomfortable tension in the air.
It was me and Jeremy.
————
Up Next: Charlie Gillespie x Reader (Smut)
Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader
Sacha Carlson x Reader
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cynthiaandsamus · 3 years ago
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Custom Toonami Block Week 74 Rundown
Code Geass: So we’ve got another one of those “wacky bullshit student activities” episodes, though this one seems to ride the hardest on “shit is going down, the world is ending but haha Shirley romance drama” though admittedly it does have a nice character arc for Milly so that’s cool. Lelouch is worried that the Knights of the Round are here to investigate him until he realizes both of them only have one braincell between them so it’s fine. Cornelia’s also murdering her way through religious fanatics so that’s cool. And last but not least we have Shirley and Lelouch finally getting together right before Jeremiah Geass Cancels her amnesia so she knows Lelouch is Zero and killed her dad and presumably the other stuff that Charles put in the whole school’s brain somehow. I’m sure this will end well and their romance will survive in a way that isn’t insanely tragic.
Inuyasha: We’re still in fillertown and it’s another SangoxMiroku episode. Man we get a lot of these in filler huh? I kinda don’t remember which Sango/Miroku moments are canon at this point. I’d kinda laugh if it was just all filler and some manga-only fans were bewildered when they ended up together in the end. Anyway, Feudal Lord has a thing for Sango because he has great taste and Kagome ships Sango/Miroku so she doesn’t want her to go, Miroku’s like “Hey it’s her choice, she’s been through enough, she can choose her own life, I’m not gonna get involved” which is pretty mature but the girls still hate on him for it. Sango’s just like “Dude even if I wanted to stay I still have this Naraku-slaying quest to go on and I’m not about to sit around all day and be royalty while my friends go kick Naraku’s ass for me.” Which is how most love confessions in this series go. Also Sango suplexes a demon bear the size of a building with her bare hands and it’s pretty great. In the end the lord doesn’t give up going after Sango but they finish the bear stuff and are on their way. I like how they don’t go out of their way to demonize this guy in the end to prop Miroku up, he’s still a good guy, Sango’s just got shit to do and is more the type to like a warrior who’s got her back. There’s some really cute shipping shenanigans here and all in all it’s fun filler.
Yu Yu Hakusho: We’ve got a three for one deal here as Yusuke and Kuwabara assblast their way through the Dark Triad in one episode, continuing their power play of beating villains with little effort while the boss man bets that they’ll completely wreck his guards which is still a pretty interesting dynamic. We’ve got cringey 90s trans commentary, an invisible dude that gets blindsided easily and a hostage ogre that gets beaten by Botan taking off her coat. Honestly for these guys being supposedly minibosses they kind of went down easier than some of the grunts. But now Kuwabara’s in contact with Yukina because his bullshit power of love connection actually works for some reason and they’re in on the final fight with the Toguro brothers. With this many people betting the GDP of countries on the fight there’s no way this isn’t rigged. I really like how YYH basically makes shonen fights just part of stupid black market deals for a large part of it, just like in real life everything’s decided by some old rich guy.
Fate Zero: Kayneth’s still fucked up and has Rock Lee syndrome and can’t use jutsu anymore so his wife’s like “Yo buddy you can’t give Lancer the magic cummies anymore anyway, lemme take control of your hunky knight manslave or I swear to god I’ll rip your arm off and jerk him off with it” which since she asked so nicely he just kind of does. With Lancer still kinda being uppity about Kayneth having dibs on his soul and Sola-Ui being weirdly horny and increasingly yandere for him I’m sure this’ll end well. Saber and Kiritsugu are still pissy with each other because Saber wants to go after Caster to stop the child murders which is fair but she’s also injured and shit and she’s mad at Kiritsugu for not teaming up with Kayneth to just take down Caster right there and I mean I don’t think he really had time to suggest a truce while getting attacked with Terminator 2 goo, he’s not really the asshole here. Meanwhile and more importantly, ISKANDAR HAS PANTS! Nothing can stop him now and they crash Caster’s child murder party and are jumped by Assassin’s Forty Thieves (they aren’t named yet but I’mma just assume) and Iskander’s just like “Yeah no I’m not fighting five ninjas knee deep in child guts.” And they just burn the whole place down.
Konosuba: So in a bizarre Interspecies Reviewers/Food Wars crossover, Kazuma goes to a succubus house and instead of just getting sex they do dreams and shit which seems more complicated but I guess it’s less morally gray. Anyway, naked Darkness and contrived hentai plots ensue. They sprinkle in some good character stuff for Kazuma which is nice, it’s always kind of hard to pin down where his principles lie. Like he’s generally a scumbag and will take the easy way out of anything but he’s not evil and will give Darkness an out on their encounter if she wants and will get his ass kicked to protect his local sex worker. The Principled Scumbag approach is kind of neat for him, I wish a few more of these moments didn’t feel the need to immediately undercut themselves with a joke but that’s the nature of the series. I feel like one or two more genuinely sincere moments throughout a couple episodes would do wonders but either way it’s still amusing.
Sailor Moon Crystal: We pick up right where we left off with Tuxedo Mask throwing himself in front of the Kamehameha for Usagi and then she goes Super Saiyan and cries pokemon tears to bring him back to life. But the bad guys are somehow like ‘yoink’ and steal him from her lap through a barrier somehow (that still kinda pisses me off) and for some reason the crystal that booped its way into his chest isn’t there anymore and Usagi still has and and Usagi’s going through a lot of shit right now between processing the trauma of a millennia-old kingdom falling that’s partially her fault, working through her romantic feelings and having a Steven Universe identity crisis about how to process her identity as a reincarnation of someone a lot cooler than she is, so most of this episode is Usagi crying, as most episodes are, but at least she has a good reason.  Then we get a Girl Squad Roll Out montage because fuck it we’re going to the moon somehow.
Durarara!!:  Apparently everyone knows about where Celty’s head is but her because she visits Izaya’s office where the head is just kinda behind some books on his bookshelf and she doesn’t know but Shinra’s dad has enough time to mug Namie after telling Shinra and Celty off for their weird interspecies relationship and tell Izaya to have fun fucking around with the head. Also people have shifted from being worried about the Dollars to being worried about Saika and ALSO being worried about the Dollars maybe being at war with the Yellow Scarves. Celty’s looking into it and Shinra shows some character development in just coming out with it that Saika was the sword that severed her connection with her head… I don’t know how you cut the soul of a head that’s already cut off but okay, at least Shinra’s not hiding shit from here anymore. Also Saika’s about to seriously chop up Anri and Masaomi comes to visit his girl in the hospital finally.
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marvel-mistress-padawan · 3 years ago
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The Man In The Green Tie (NSFW)
Sometimes Emma hated these formal dinner parties and other times she quite enjoyed them. Tonight was one of those nights that she felt a little of both emotions. She was dressed in her signature white and wore a diamond pendant on a gold chain just in the right place to display her cleavage. It was working. Half the men in the room had noticed her. Of course they noticed all the other beautiful women in the room too. Men were fickle like that. Some of them even went after the plain looking and ugly women, believing they had a better chance with them. Emma didn’t care for hearing all their thoughts of conquest tonight, only the ones concerning her.
Frost International was her Company and this dinner with partners, investors, and associates, was important for future relations. She had met almost everyone here in previous dealings. Everyone except one man. He had longish black hair and wore a black suit with a green tie. He sat at a table with Justin Hammer and some journalist whose name Emma couldn’t remember. All she knew was that the man in green tie was one of the most fascinating men she had ever had the pleasure of ming reading. He wasn’t paying much attention to the women in the room. He noticed them of course, but only briefly. He wasn’t thinking about money or power, in spite of being associated with Justin Hammer and attending her dinner in the first place. No, his thoughts were thoughts of amusement at being able to deceive Justin Hammer so thoroughly. He had only one weapon to sell. There were none in production, no test models or protypes, just the one, and Hammer was willing to pay a signifigant amount for a supply that did not exist.
Emma got down from her place at the bar and approached Hammer’s table, making sure that her slinky white dress still clung to her in all the right places.
“Miss Frost?” Justin looked up as she stopped at his table. “It’s a pleasure to see you here tonight.”
“Mind if I join you?” Emma didn’t wait for his reply. Justin wanted her to go away and not ruin his business deal. She wasn’t going anywhere. She pulled up a chair. “Those barstools do a number on a girl’s ass,” she said, waiting to see if either of them would look. “Your little table over here looked so much more comfortable. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Emma,” she offered her hand to the stranger in the green tie.
To Emma surprise, the stranger did not take the opportunity to look at her backside. In fact he mentally told himself not to. Instead he took her hand and he kissed it like a true gentleman. What shocked her even more was that she actually felt something in response to his polite manners.
“My name is Lucas Olsen,” he told her with such sincerity that had she not been a telepath she might have believed it was true. Lucas wasn’t his name. He was thinking about his name. It was Loki. He was not human. “This is a lovely party you’ve created here,” he told her.
Most men would have made a point to say something about Emma herself being lovely as well. Loki didn’t. He didn’t even think it. Emma couldn’t figure out why that irked her so much. It wasn’t that he didn’t think her pretty. He was as distracted by the placement of her diamond necklace as Hammer was. He wasn’t lacking in confidence like some of the men in the room and yet he did not pursue her. Why?
“I appreciate the sentiment but I wouldn’t call it lovely. It’s an unfortunate necessity of this business. I can think of a lot of things more fun to do on a night like this,” Emma told them, her gaze entirely on Loki.
“One ought not mix business and pleasure,” Loki said with a hint of a smile. He had understood her insinuation and was more interested in playing hard to get than in chasing after her.
“W-what things?” Hammer spoke up. “What fun things would you do?”
It was in that moment that Loki thought Hammer to be a sad pathetic little man who wouldn’t know how to win a woman if she were handed to him. The journalist who sat with them, and whom Emma had neglected to greet, got up uncomfortably and left. Emma wished that Hammer would do the same.
“You’re an inventor Hammer. I’m sure you could think of something,” Emma barely disguised her annoyance.
“Well, I’m usually too busy to do much of anything fun. That’s part of being a hard working, stable...single...American,” he said, trailing off and failing to deliver his intended confidence.
“Plenty of hard working Americans know how to have fun. Maybe you’re just a buzzkill,” she told him. It wasn’t nice but she wasn’t known for being nice. “Maybe you’d like to get me a drink?”
Insulted, Hammer got up and left. He didn’t come back.
“I would say that was a little harsh but…” Loki began.
“But you don’t like him any more than I do,” Emma knew it to be the truth.
“I may not like him but he is still useful,” Loki said with a shrug.
“You know what else is useful?” Emma crossed her legs beneath the table and allowed the foot of her open toed shoe to touch his leg. “A little rest and relaxation, don’t you think?”
Loki did not respond to her touch as she expected. Oh he was interested but there was something of amusement in his response. Maybe it was because he was alien. Maybe his people couldn’t be expected to respond like humans.
“I suppose we could all do with a diversion here and there,” he agreed.
It was then that his thoughts became clear. He knew. He knew she was a telepath. He knew she was toying with him, and he was toying with her just as much in return.
“How did you…?” Emma began. This had never happened to her before. She had always been the one in power over men. Her beauty and her ability to read minds, her education as a sex therapist had given her a distinct advantage. And now this gorgeous man was playing her?
Loki smiled. “I have certain abilities. I may not be able to read a person’s thoughts from moment to moment but I can see their memories if I touch them. You gave me your hand and from there I knew the truth of it.”
“Then why didn’t I realize that until now? How are you able to block out at least some of my telepathic abilities?”
“Magic,” he said simply.
“So you can read memories, and do magic? Anything else?”
“It’s a rather long list,” he said demurely.
“Fuck,” she muttered. This was all falling apart now. It had been six months since she’d taken a man to bed. Most of them had been too stupid and self centered to bother with. After six months she was starting to get desperate but not so desperate that anyone would do. She had thought when she came to Hammer’s table to meet his friend that her chance had finally come. Apparently she’d be spending another night alone.
Loki raised an eyebrow at her word. “I wouldn’t say no to that.”
For the first time in years, Emma found herself blushing over something a man had said to her.
“Should I take your blushing as a yes?” he asked her.
Emma felt entirely out of place in this scenario. Never in her life had she been deposed of her power like this. And yet she couldn’t say that she hated it. Not at all. “Yes,” she said, all her hesitation ended. “How about a dance first?”
Loki led her out onto the dance floor and he turned out to be an expert dancer. He pulled her rather close to himself and took in a breath. She had never danced with anyone without knowing his every thought and desire. Some of Loki’s thoughts broke through but they were vague and even unclear. She had never felt so powerless, never so anxious, and certainly never so intensely turned on.
When the song hand ended Emma went to the bar and downed a drink. She wanted this, but it was so weird that she definitely needed a drink. Loki followed her and watched her with concern.
“If you’re not ready, there’s no need to rush,” he told her.
Emma spun on her heel to face him. He was being polite. He was truly concerned that he might be pushing too much too quickly and was too well mannered to do that to any woman, despite his desires. Emma dropped the glass in her hand and it shattered at her feet. Such kindness was rare in the men she had met. This one was dangerous. She had picked up that much from his thoughts, but he had standards. He would not harm a lady. She wasn’t accustomed to being thought of as anything other than an object to be lusted after and yet this man would never treat her as such.
“No, I am ready,” she said, stepping over the glass to return to him on the dancefloor.
The second dance was slower this time and both of his hands rested on her backside. She wrapped one arm around his neck and pressed close enough that she could feel his hardness against her center. The entire dance was not appropriate for a business dinner but she lacked the ability to care. It had been so long and he was more enticing than any dance partner she had ever stood across from. He leaned close enough that his breath was warm against her neck and Emma felt wetness between her legs.
The song came to an end all to quick and the sound of tinkling glass broke apart the few couples dancing. Charles Blake her CFO was making an announcement. She had forgotten that she had requested for Charles to do this speech. It was going to take a good twenty minutes followed by a formal dinner being served.
“I can’t leave, probably not for hours,” Emma said, frustrated. “I did set this up after all.”
“There’s no need to leave,” Loki told her. “I can give you exactly what you want, right here.”
“I’m not sure I can be that discreet,” she said, an eyebrow raised. “Not in this dress.”
“Who cares about the dress?” Loki said. “You’re a telepath. I have magic. I’m sure we can work something out.”
Her jaw dropped open. “You mean…?”
He nodded. “You sit at your table and I’ll sit at mine. No one will be the wiser.”
Emma went back to her seat at the bar and Loki back to his table where Hammer had been. She was barely seated when the thoughts began to hit her. Not just thoughts but images and sensations, very real sensations. This was going to be more complicated than she had thought.
It seemed as if Emma were no longer in the banquet room at all but instead in a bedroom with large open windows to a view of a world she had never seen. Loki’s homeworld. It was so real that she could smell a far off ocean breeze as well as the same scent she had smelled on his collar when she danced with him. He took her hand and pulled her to the bed, unzipping the back of her dress and letting it drop to the floor. Then he was kissing her. It felt so entirely real that Emma worried she wasn’t remaining still in the real world.
Emma worked on pulling off his clothes while he kissed her starting with the green necktie. His hands were on her breasts, his tongue in her mouth and Emma had every intention of pushing him over and climbing astride him. He gently pushed her back and crawled atop of her, resting his weight on his elbows and continuing to kiss her. She lifted her hips to encourage him to continue. She had waited so long for this that she didn’t need further preparation. She was already so wet, so needy, that she didn’t want to wait a moment longer. He pushed his way inside her and she let out a moan. He went still.
“Oh god don’t stop!” she told him, desperate for friction.
Loki grinned a little at her plea but he heeded her words and started moving again. He moved in and out of her slowly at first and Emma sought his mouth for more kisses. He gave them to her and then he moved to kiss down her jawline and her neck and beneath her earlobe. His pace increased and she lifted her hips a little higher to find her center of pleasure.
“Harder?” she asked of him and he gladly obliged, plunging into her deeper and harder than before.
Emma could not stop the moans that came from her and they were only increased by hearing his grunts of pleasure. Then the moment came when she could finally let go of the building tension. Her body pulsated in relief.
Emma came to herself and found she was still in the banquet room. Charles was still going on and on about financial matters and no one in the room was aware of what had just transpired in her mind. She had apparently kept still and silent. The stool beneath her was a little wet where she sat. Her eyes met Loki’s across the room and he grinned knowingly. Emma suddenly felt warm and she reached for a folded paper dinner program to fan herself with. Loki smiled more broadly at her flush face and she wanted to slap him as much as she wanted to laugh.
Once Charles had finished his little speech, Loki crossed the room and sat next to her at the bar.
“I can’t actually stay long tonight. Now that I’m done with Hammer, I’ll be leaving. I know where to find you though. My mind can reach across great distances, if that’s something you wanted anyway?” he asked her.
Emma bit her lip, intrigued by his offer. A telepathic lover? “I don’t want to wait six months until the next encounter..”
“Believe me, you won’t,” he told her.
“And you’re going to send me telepathic flowers and chocolate?” she teased.
“I don’t think I’ll have to,” he leaned into her space and placed a kiss, not on her lips but on her forehead. “Goodnight Emma Frost, until we meet again.”
“Until we meet again,” she told him as she watched him go, shaking her head at herself. Somehow, his green necktie was still in her hand.
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heart-of-gold-outlaw · 4 years ago
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Welcome Home | Chapter Seven: Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story
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Ao3
Summary: The Reader and Arthur head into Valentine; Reader has a sobering realization. 
Thankfully, Hosea doesn't mention anything about your encounter with Micah to anyone else. The last thing you need is to cause trouble within the gang. It seems like they have enough of that already. In the short time you've been running with them, you've realized that there's a constant threat looming over, well, everyone. It goes beyond getting captured by the law. These people are running for their lives, lives that society has deemed aren't worth living. 
You might be crazy, but you empathize. How many times has society deemed your life unlivable in your modern day? 
You help out with some of the camp chores for a while. The hay bales are too heavy, and you almost drop the feed sacks on Uncle as he's trying to take a nap, so you settle for hauling water to top off the wash basins. It's simple work, but it keeps you occupied. Really, that's all you need. 
As you're pouring the last of the water out, you find your mind drifting. It's strange, to say the least, how quickly you've adjusted to life in the past. You find yourself thinking back to something your friend once told you, about how if you were dropped in a foreign country, you would learn enough to get around within a month. It's not the same thing; time travel definitely isn't the same as speaking a foreign language. But they're similar, at least.
"You still got water in the bucket, ya know."
A shriek escapes you, quick and sharp, and you throw the bucket up in the air. Water sloshes all over your head. Whirling around, you see Arthur standing just a few short feet away. He's watching you, and you can tell he doesn't know whether to apologize or laugh. He shoves his hands into his pockets and whistles.
"Why're you always so jumpy?" He asks as he finds the bucket and picks it up.
Years' worth of anxiety issues, you think, but say: "It's a talent."
Arthur snorts and sets the bucket aside. "Some talent."
Your face burns, but you try to act as nonchalant as possible. There's no doubt that he sees right through you, but you keep it up anyways. 
"Did you need something?" You question innocently. You're looking anywhere but his eyes.
"Was thinking of heading into Valentine." Arthur smiles a little and puts his hands back in his pockets. "Was wondering if you'd want to join me."
For a second, your brain stops. Arthur... inviting you to Valentine. Arthur. Valentine. Arthur and Valentine. Valentine and Arthur. It's enough to make your head spin, even though it shouldn't. And then knowledge hits you, unmistakable and strong:
You've got one hell of a crush.
"Sure," you say, desperately hoping you sound casual. You try to lean against a nearby table, misjudge the distance, and almost topple over. "Valentine sounds great."
Arthur grins and shakes his head a little. There's something in his eyes, something you can't quite place, and your cheeks burn again. 
"Go ahead and ask Charles if you can borrow Taima again," he says, reaching out and righting you as you try to regain your balance. "I'll meet you outside of camp."
His hand is warm against your shoulder and lingers just a little longer than normal. Arthur smiles at you again, then leaves with a low chuckle. You watch him go, just barely managing not to sink to the ground.
Yep. You're screwed.
.
.
.
You find Charles sitting at one of the tables. He's whittling something, and the closer you get, the more you realize it's a beautiful deer. He looks up at you as you approach. Smiling warmly, he sets his knife aside and shifts so he looks more open to a conversation. You feel your heart swell. It's not every day someone would be so considerate. Charles, you've decided, is one of the nicest people in the gang.
"Hey there, Y/N," he greets once you're close enough. His tone is gentle. "Hope you're adjusting to us alright."
You nod. "I guess so. There's not really a guide on this sort of thing."
"You're right about that." Charles laughs a little and leans back against the table. "What can I do for you?"
"I was just wondering if I could borrow Taima for a bit," you say. "Arthur wants to head into Valentine, and I don't think he wants to deal with my stupid ass falling off the back of Florence."
Charles looks thoughtful for a moment, then glances toward where Arthur is carrying his saddle. You follow his gaze. You can't help but smile when you see Arthur gently stroking his horse's mane. It's amazing, really, how hands so rough and calloused can be so careful. 
By the time you turn back to Charles, he's watching you with a knowing glint in his eyes. For the millionth time that day, your face turns red. 
"He likes you, you know," he eventually says. "We all do."
For a moment, you can only stand there. You don't like the way your eyes suddenly sting, don't want to contradict anything, tell Charles that people in your time don't really care for you by default. But judging by the sudden look of understanding on his face, something tells you he already knows.
"It takes some getting used to," he murmurs. "I know what it's like."
You blink away your tears and nod. "Thank you."
Charles smiles at you, then motions with his hand toward the horses. "Of course you can borrow Taima. Have fun in Valentine."
The "with Arthur" lingers in the air, even though he doesn't say it. You blush again, turn away, and start heading to where Arthur's already done saddling Florence. 
Taima is an absolute beauty. Arthur is adjusting the stirrups by the time you walk over, making sure everything's fit for an easy ride. When he's done, he gives you a leg-up into the saddle. You're a little unsteady, still more than slightly unsure, but it's getting better every day. Arthur gives you a nod of approval. You grin at him and grip the reins the way he's showed you in the past. 
"Feelin' more comfortable?" He asks as he effortlessly swings into his own saddle. 
You try your best not to stare. No matter how many times he does it, how Arthur Morgan handles horseback will never cease to amaze you.
"Ye-ah," you eventually manage, shaking yourself out of your reverie. "Guess it just takes some practice."
He sets a steady trot toward Valentine. Taima keeps up with Florence well, gait smooth and sure. Briefly, you wonder if Dutch (or anyone for that matter) will let you get a horse of your own. Not that you mind Taima, but borrowing her every now and then has to be a hassle for Charles. The last thing you want is to be a burden.
"What're you thinking about?" 
Arthur's voice once again brings you back to reality, and before you can stop yourself, you say: "Just wondering if I were to fall from the camp's cliff, would it be enough to kill me?" 
As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know you should've come up with something better. Arthur glances at you, that sideways glance you've come to realize he only gives when he's trying to process something. You give him a tight-lipped smile. It's too late to back down now. Might as well stick to your guns.
After a while, Arthur shakes his head and sighs. You can tell he's trying to figure out what to say... not that there's really much he can say to that. 
"You know," he eventually murmurs, "Hosea told me about that kind of talk from you."
"Traitor," you mutter.
Arthur sighs again, exasperated. "Does everybody want to die in the future?"
"Uh..." You think about Global Warming, the plummeting economy, and sky-high rent prices with a low minimum wage. "No?" 
You don't sound convincing, even to yourself. Arthur rolls his eyes.
"Glad to see things stay the same," he mutters. 
Taima wanders a little closer to Florence, close enough that your leg brushes against Arthur's. He's warm. And strong. And... Actually? You need to stop.
"If it makes you feel any better," you say as a distraction, "I'm just pretty vocal about the whole 'death' thing. Most people keep it to themselves."
Arthur considers this for a moment, eyeing you with that same level look that makes you wonder if you should've just kept your mouth shut. 
"That's worse," he tells you. "You do know that's worse, right?"
You shrug. "Easy come, easy go."
He shakes his head again with another eyeroll. "Just don't go an' die on me, ya hear?"
"...No promises."
.
.
.
The Valentine Saloon doesn't look like much, but with the sudden chill in the air as the sun dips beneath the horizon, it's warm and inviting to you. 
Arthur guides you toward the hitching post, then helps you out of the saddle. You long for the day you can hop down without any assistance. Not that you mind him doing it, but still. You want to be able to fend for yourself should the need arise. 
He shows you how to properly hitch Taima, then hitches Florence, murmuring a quick "you're alright, boy" into his ear before gently steering you toward the saloon. You try not to think about the weight of his hand on your shoulder. Honestly, you try not to think about a lot of the things that rush through your mind. Acting ridiculous is one thing; acting ridiculously thirsty is another entirely.
Arthur pushes the doors open to the saloon just like a classic spaghetti western cowboy. You follow him a little blindly. The room is noisy, filled with the chatter of a decent-sized crowd. Eyeing people warily, you stick close to Arthur as he makes his way to the bar. You're suddenly reminded of something that bothers you in your own time: drunken morons.
"Whiskey," Arthur tells the bartender. "And..." He looks at you expectantly.
"Uh," you stammer for a second. You've never really been a drinker, and a lot of the options you would have in the future either don't exist or are a complete rarity in the wild west. "Beer?"
Much to your relief, the bartender nods, produces a couple glasses, and pours you and Arthur your drinks. Arthur tips his in thanks, then downs the whiskey in one go. You sniff at your glass. It smells like... well, it smells like piss, but you don't want to look like a square in front of everyone. So you chug it. 
Somehow, you manage not to make a face, even though the beer leaves an awful aftertaste. It feels warm in your chest, though, and while it's not a great feeling, it's not terrible, either. You look over at Arthur and grin. It's likely you won't be able to hold your liquor. You make a mental note not to go beyond your limit.
"So," you say as you signal for the bartender to fill your glass again. This one, you're going to sip... or so you tell yourself. "Why the need to get out of camp?"
Arthur also motions for another round. "Just don't like feelin' cooped up," he admits, "and there's somethin' I've been meaning to run by you."
You watch him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.
"Got a lead from an old friend about one of our boys." Arthur swirls his whiskey. "Name's Sean. We thought he was dead, but looks like some bounty hunters got ahold of him."
"Okay..." You're not sure what this has to do with you. 
"Dutch is plannin' on having a few of us see if we can grab him before... well, you know." Arthur takes a deep breath. "Was wondering if you wanted to come along."
For a moment, your brain doesn't register what he's saying. Bounty hunters, rescue mission, that part, you get. But... the way he's acting... so nervous, so unsure... It almost feels like--
Nah. You shut the thought down before you can finish it. No sense in getting your hopes up.
"Sure," you say, realizing he's waiting for an answer. "Sounds like a good time."
You want to kick yourself for that one. Yeah, it makes you sound more confident than you feel, but rescuing someone from certain death definitely doesn't call for a casual tone.
Luckily, Arthur either doesn't notice, or doesn't care, and he smiles at you. You smile back, then lift your drink toward him. He raises his in response, and the two of you drink until there's nothing left.
So much for sipping it, you think as your face starts to feel a little warm and numb. Oh well.
The next few hours pass by quickly. You stop after three drinks, and so does Arthur. Apparently, you're both on the same page, i.e. not getting wasted (and, consequently, hungover the next morning). The saloon gets a little more crowded as the night progresses, and you have to bite down hard on your growing discomfort. You don't want to ruin this. And besides: Arthur seems to be having a good time. You can put up with everything for a little while longer.
It's another hour before you feel like you're going to explode. Thankfully, Arthur doesn't bat an eye when you tell him you're going to step outside for some air, just gives you a nod with "be careful" undertones. You can't help but smile at him. How a rough and tough outlaw can be so caring... it never ceases to amaze you.
Outside, the air is crisp and clean and does wonders for your anxiety. You breathe it in like you'll never have it again. It's also dark, so you stick by the lights of the saloon. Instinct doesn't change, even when you travel through time, apparently. For a moment, you're struck with wonder at how things can be so different, but so much the same, too, in the future. People are still fundamentally people. They're all alive as well.
It's that last thought that suddenly sobers you. These people... they're all dead in your time. Dead and... well, dead and mostly forgotten. All anybody in the future will have are photographs. They won't know what these people sound like. They won't know how they laugh, how warm they are, how lovely it is when they smile. In the future, people just won't know. It'll all be lost to time.
You try not to think about what that means for Arthur and others.
You try not to think about what that means for you. 
A/N: Existential crisis? For MY Reader? It’s more likely than you think!
Accompanying Music: Hamilton | Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story
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fandomgalcentral · 4 years ago
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Familiar Strangers: Part IV
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A/N: I’m finally back to this amazing little story. Thanks to @littlefreya​ and the Cavill fan club for the inspiration for this one!
This contains 18+ material.  Sexual Situations, Oral Sex (M/F giving/receiving), Explicit Content, Language. Please proceed with caution!
Previous Parts:
Part I
Part II 
Part III
We were married at sunset that very day with very few in attendance. I wasn’t prepared for such an occasion, but when the King insists, it’s followed through. Ready or not.
I sit with my ladies, a few weeks after the wedding as we do needlework, but I can’t for the life of me sit still.
“My lady, are you alright?”
“Mhm. I’m just going to go for a walk. Please excuse me.” Being queen had been a rough transition from being a commoner or peasant in this case. Rumors flew about but Henry likely ignored them more than anything.  
“Your majesty!”  
A voice pulls me from me reverie. It’s Charles Brandon.  
“Charles! I- What are you doing on the grounds? I expected you to be in Henry’s meeting.” He simply chuckled, eyeing me up and down. He thinks I don’t notice.  
“I was actually looking for you, my lady.” He said as he joined me on my walk. After a bit of silence, he looked at me. “How are you and the king?”  
“We have only been married a short time Charles! I’m not sure how I feel about it.” My gaze must have alarmed him.  
“The king wants-”  
“Charles, please. I understand he wants an heir. I do hope his love is true. If it is not, I shall be truly devastated and a fool for believing him.”  
We both came to an archway that was hidden. Well, sort of. I don’t meet his gaze but he pulls my chin up to look up at him. My heart starts beating faster. There was something about Charles that made me happy. I know he’s married and has a child on the way.  
However some of the fantasies I have on bad days make things a bit better. I sometimes dream of him coming to my bed and eating my soaking cunt then pounding the living hell out of me. His cock throbbing with each harsh thrust and him filling me with his seed. I realized that it wasn’t Henry I wanted at times, but his best friend. Holy fuck, what is wrong with me? I’m married to the king for fuck’s sake!
“His majesty does not deserve a beauty like you.” His voice drops to a soft murmur. I understand him quite clearly. He must feel that same way I do. “He does not deserve any woman. You deserve better.” I felt his cock grew hard as he pressed me against the stone and his body against mine. I could feel my arousal start up. Not now. Why now?
“Charles-” I dare gaze up into his beautiful green eyes. This was such a stupid ass idea. “I’m married to the King. Yet, I have dreamed of nights of your pleasures. We cannot do it. You are also married.” It hold his hand. He seemed like a giant to me. His hand cupped my cheek then.  
“Then we must.” He whispered as his lips crashed into mine. I returned the kiss as my body went on autopilot and grinded against his growing cock. I wanted him, no scratch that, needed him. He felt that same desire I did.  
“Not here.” I muttered after a few moments. “We must do it in secret. Away from prying eyes.” He nodded.
The ball was elegant. Well, every party was really. Henry and I watched as people danced, chatted and enjoyed each other’s company. Charles came up and bowed. “Your majesties. Lovely party isn’t it?” Henry and I chuckle.  
“Of course it is Charles! What can we do for you?”  
“If I have his majesty’s permission, I wish to dance with the Queen.”  
“Of course! Be kind with her.”  
“Henry! Darling, it’s alright. I can handle whatever Mr. Brandon throws at me.” I wink at him. Henry complied and allowed me to go with Charles. We go into the crowd and start to dance.  
“You are certainly beautiful. You are always beautiful.”  
“Charming, Charles.” I tease. After our dance, I go back to Henry. Later, I receive a message and excuse myself as I go down to the room I was requested to. Empty. I go over to the bed and lay down. Whatever joke this was not amusing whatsoever. I sighed and closed my eyes.  
{Charles}  
I slipped into the room. I knew she was here. Time was not on my side but it was now or never.  Dancing with her was a dream. I had wanted her since I first laid eyes on her. Now our fantasies come true. Seeing her laid on the bed, my cock twitched. Here we go.  
Slipping under her dress, I felt her arousal then gave it a taste. Her moan started off quiet then grew the more I ate her delicious pussy. Damn, she was perfect.  
“Charles!” She whined when I stopped.  
“Now, now, patience is a virtue.”  
“Shut up and come here.” She undid my trousers and started to suck my cock. Pleasure shot through me and I groaned. It was amusing to see her choke on it. I came several times in that pretty mouth of hers. I finally pull away from the slobbery mess she became. Such a good little cockwhore.  
Without warning, I slam right into her soaking cunt. Her expression was one of surprise. She was tight but as I continued thrusting myself into her, she became accustomed. Her moans grew in crescendo as she grew close to her climax. I toy with her pussy as she writhes.  
“Charles… let me cum, daddy!” She begged.  
“Cum for daddy, love. Daddy wants to cum.” An animalistic tendency filled my being as I went faster.  
“Charles-” Her declaration was cut off as she came and I did so as well, filling her pussy with my seed. I wanted her to have my child, not Henry’s. He didn’t deserve her.  
I did. 
Tag List:
@leah-halliwell92 
@cd1242​ 
@evyiione​
@mouselovesmusic​
@straybreeze​
@armitageadoration​
@epicallychrissy​
@sweeticedtea​
@iammhereforthefandoms​
@littlemoon-beam​
@inkededucatednnerdy​
@deepestfirefun​
@dracsgirl​ 
@abiwim​ 
@disneymarina​
{If I missed anyone, please let me know!}
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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago
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Chapter 12 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie
Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?
Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)
Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault
Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.
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Chapter twelve
~|Emily Fox|~
“Can we do something tonight?” Madison asks me when we’re at school on Thursday. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long.” I shut my locker and shoulder my backpack. “I can’t tonight… I—” I realize I haven’t told her about Charlie yet, let alone about the band. “I have to work.” Madison lets out a loud groan. “You always have to work! Do you ever get a day off?” “I mean… Sunday’s are my days off?” “Yeah, but Sundays are for you and your Uncle Mitch,” she points out. Ever since Uncle Bobby’s death, Mitch and I have declared Sundays Emily-and-Mitch day. Just being together, watching movies and eating all the snacks, reminiscing about all the days with Uncle Robert. “Okay… Then how about our free period before lunch? We could just hang out in the school yard?” Madi raises an eyebrow at me, clearly not a fan of my plan. “I can’t help this, Mads, I got into a really big fight with Ash the other day and I’ve lost privileges of choosing my shifts.” I only realize I hadn’t told her about the fight with Ash either since it’s connected to Charlie and only the boys know about Charlie. Not even Mitch. Not even Madi. I want to see where it goes first before I tell anyone. I would’ve kept it from the boys too if they hadn’t barged in mid-kiss. Just thinking about that moment gives my lips the permission to curl up into a smile. “What was the fight about?” Of course she would ask that. “Uhm… Nothing too bad… Just something I…,” I trail off, trying to come up with the best excuse, “misplaced! Yeah, I misplaced something!” I sound way too excited about this. “And that’s why Ash got angry?” I nod my head slowly. This might not have been the best excuse. “She’s a little short tempered these days…” “Is she pregnant or something?” Madison actually believes me. Okay, now I feel even more like absolute shit for lying to her. But I can’t tell her. Not yet. Charlie and I has to be an us-thing before it can become an everyone-thing. “Not that I know, no…” Madison simply shrugs, says goodbye, and walks to her class, leaving me and my lying ass alone in the hallway. I take in a deep breath and head to my own class. I can’t believe I lied to my best friend about something as important as being in a band and a relationship with the cutest boy. I can’t wait to see him again tonight. “Oh, hey, Emily!” Not him. “Jake… Hey?” He gives me a teasing smirk whilst his eyes scan my entire being. “Can I help you?” I cross my arms over my chest, hoping it would protect me from this evil person-thing. “Uhm, yeah, I was wondering if you were—” Someone else I’d rather not be talking to interrupts him. “Is this underachiever bothering you, babe?” My hands ball up into fists. Customer-service-attitude, Emily. You can do this. I look up at Brianna’s tall stature. She’s actually my height, but decides to wear heels to school, just to tower over pretty much everyone, including Jake. “Actually, you’re both bothering me, so move.” There goes my customer-service-attitude. Brianna scoffs, placing her manicured hand on her chest, “Was that a threat?” “No, but it will be if you don’t get out of my way.” I push past them to make my way to my seat. I can deal with a lot of people at the Music Store, but Brianna and Jake are another level. “Don’t even bother coming to my party!” “I wasn’t planning too,” I scowl, then take a deep breath when the teacher walks in and shuts Brianna and Jake up too. You just got to get through this day and then you’ll see Charlie and the boys again. Just breathe. – Mmh, Charlie. The thought alone calms me down.
For a really long time, the Music Store has been my own little getaway. Away from people at school, away from life. Just a calming oasis for me and me alone. I don’t mind the boys ever being here, not at all. If anything, they add to that calming oasis. But that entire fata morgana of mine suddenly vanishes when Jake enters the store after school. I’ve been here for five minutes. Is this really necessary? “Can I help you?” I ask, not even bothering with my customer-service-smile. “Yeah, actually… I was wondering if you didn’t want to come to Brianna’s party this weekend? I think it’s going to be a blast.” I raise my eyebrows at him in disbelief. “I’d rather die than go to Brianna’s party, Jake. You of all people should know that.” I move away from the counter to go and help a customer at the guitars, but Jake stops me. “Just… Think about it, okay? I think it would be fun with you around?” He offers me that smile I fell in love with at one point a year ago. “Please, Emmy?” The nickname brings me straight back to planet earth. He knows what that nickname means to me. “I need to get back to work,” I tell him, and walk over to the teenage boy, staring at the guitars longingly. I grab one and hand it to him when I hear the bell ringing. I look up at the door to watch Jake walk away. Instead, I find Charlie passing him, offering Jake a kind smile. He has no clue who he’d just passed. “He didn’t look too satisfied,” he chuckles and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Yeah, no…” Should I tell him or keep it a secret? Lying to Madi feels terrible, I can’t lie to Charlie now too. “That’s Jake… My ex-boyfriend…” Charlie’s eyes widen slightly, his lips parting to let out a breath. “He asked if I wanted to come to his new girlfriend’s party, who also happens to be the biggest bitch on the planet. So…” “Do you want to go?” I frown at his assumption that I would ever even think about going to a Brianna Holly party. “No! I’d rather die than go to her stupid party.” He chuckles, then bites his lip and steps forward, grabbing my hand. “Charlie, I got work to do…” I point to the cash register where a couple customers are waiting to pay. “We could go to the party together? Show your ex-boyfriend you’ve moved on to someone better?” I raise an eyebrow as my lips turn upwards without me wanting to. “You want me to use you as some sort of trophy?” “Yes! I can be your trophy wife!” He’s doing this on purpose to make me feel better, I’m sure. “Charlie…” I breathe out and take my hand back, so I can head to the counter where the customers are getting restless. Charlie, however, just follows me like a puppy. “Brianna Holly’s party is always this big bash in her dad’s mansion where very popular bands play and people think they’re the best of the best.” I scan the customer’s items and tell them how much they need to pay, keeping my customer-service-attitude. “What if we take the band and play a song ourselves? Could be great for some exposure? And you can show Brianna what you’re made off and we can show Jake what we have?” I say goodbye to the last customer, and even before they have turned their backs to us, Charlie hops onto the counter. “No, Charles!” I know what using his full name does to him. He gives me a sharp look and tilts his head a little, which makes him look like an actual puppy. “Can we drop it?” I grab the invoices of today from the cupboard behind me and slap them against his chest. His hand moves up to mine to grab the papers from me, but instead, he just halts. “I’m still going to ask the rest of the band and they’re going to say ‘yes’.” Now he grabs the papers from my hand and gets off the counter to start sorting. “You’re such a child,” I mutter before making my way to any mess that’s been made today. I can’t stop thinking about Jake though. Why does he want me to go to the party so badly? None of it makes any sense. That’s his girlfriend’s party and he wants his ex-girlfriend to go? Make it make sense, please. “BOYS!” Charlie shouts loudly the second the boys walk inside, making them – and me – jump. “We might have our first gig on Saturday!” I roll my eyes at Charlie, but I doubt he notices. “I wouldn’t call it a gig if one of your bandmates isn’t going to be there,” I mumble, not taking my eyes off the sheet music I’m sorting through. “Who’s not going to be there?” Jeremy asks, “Is it you, Owen?” “Is it you, Owen?” Owen mimics his buddy, his voice higher than it normally is, and slaps Jeremy on the back of the head again. “What’s the gig? And why don’t you want to go, Ems?” “It’s at the annual Brianna Holly party…” I trail off and make my way to the sheet music station to put the sorted papers back. “And we don’t like Brianna Holly?” Owen gets it. “Come on, Emily! It’s going to be amazing exposure for the band! And who knows? It could be fun to go together? Do something else for a change.” Charlie really isn’t going to drop this. I just stare at him for a while, not sure what to tell him. “Let’s vote! Who wants to go?” Jeremy and Charlie both raise their hands, Owen just looks at me with that worried, anxious look of his. “Come on, Owen! You love a good party!” “I don’t want to go if Emily doesn’t feel comfortable going.” I shoot him a thankful smile. “Hey,” Charlie moves closer towards me, taking my hand in his, “I think this might be a really good opportunity, for all of us. But if you really don’t want to go, we won’t go…” “Let’s rehearse a song, if it’s not perfect by Saturday, we don’t go, okay?” I’ve never seen a smile brighter than the one on Charlie’s face right now. He kisses my hand swiftly and grabs the electric guitar he’s been using for a while now. “Let’s get to rehearsing then!” Reggie grabs his bass and Owen goes to sit behind the drums while I take my place behind the keyboard. I play a few notes before starting to sing, the boys just looking at me, awaiting their turn to play. Playing with the boys is ever so exciting. Every song we’ve played so far just sounds magical and maybe sharing that magic at Brianna Holly’s party isn’t such a bad idea. “Hearts on fire We're no liars, so we say what we wanna say I'm awakened, no more faking So we push all our fears away”
The song is perfect by Saturday, and, after a couple more rehearsals on the day – I asked Ash half the day off – we head to Brianna Holly’s party. To say I’m nervous is the biggest understatement of the century.
“We’re going to smash this,” Charlie reassures me when he notices me tense up when we enter the Holly Mansion. “I promise you.” I offer him a half-hearted smile, not being able to manage more than that.
“Oh, you came…” Brianna’s witchy voice sends shivers down my spine, “How fun.” Anyone who doesn’t note the sarcasm in her voice is probably not the brightest. “And you brought some friends, I see.” Her tongue glides across her teeth as she eyes Charlie up and down.
“Emily! You came!” Another voice I’d rather not hear today. Jake joins by Brianna’s side, wrapping his arm around her waist. Not a second later, I feel Charlie do the exact same to me.
“They were just leaving again…” Brianna gives me a sharp look, wanting to scare me.
“Actually, no… We’re not,” I don’t know where the sudden burst of confidence comes from. It might be Charlie’s arm protectively around me. Or just having the boys behind me.
I look around the enormous living room and spot the instruments tucked in a corner of the room, waiting to be played. “Looks like no band showed up, Brianna. How sad…” I turn to the boys, “What do you say, boys?” All of them shoot me a grin or a nod before I turn back to Brianna.
“Say what?!” she orders, seemingly panicking slightly.
“You’ll see,” I say and start walking towards the small stage in the corner. The boys grab their spot, and so do I. I shake my nervous hands for a second, suddenly doubting my abilities and second-guessing my choices.
“You got this,” Charlie mouths to me, and all of a sudden, my fingers begin to play the notes on the keyboard.
“Hearts on fire We're no liars, so we say what we wanna say I'm awakened, no more faking So we push all our fears away”
I look over at Jeremy, who’s closest to me, and he smiles at me, encouraging me to go on.
“Don't know if I'll make it cause I'm falling under Close my eyes and feel my chest beating like thunder”
I close my eyes for a second, letting myself get into the moment.
“I wanna fly Come alive Watch me shine”
I grab the microphone off the stand and join the boys in the middle of the stage, right between Jeremy and Charlie and grab the tambourine hanging from the microphone stand.
“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe Been so long and now we're finally free”
The crowd at Brianna’s party gathers around the stage in curiosity. Some of them bopping their heads, some throwing their hands up. Brianna and Jake are at the back, staring at us in disbelief and maybe some jealousy.
“We're all bright now What a sight now Coming out like we're fireworks Marching on proud Turn it up loud Cause now we know what we're worth”
I place the microphone on the stand at the front, so I have one hand free to guide me through the song. Charlie then sings the pre-chorus along with me, neither of us able to keep our eyes off each other.
“We know we can make it We're not falling down under Close my eyes and feel my chest Beating like thunder”
I grab the microphone again and move to Jeremy to rock out with him a little.
“I wanna fly Come alive Watch me shine”
I wink at Owen before heading back to the mic stand for the chorus.
“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe Been so long and now we're finally free”
I walk up to the edge of the stage to interact with some of the crowd.
“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe Been so long and now we're finally free”
I lean over in Charlie’s direction as he’s walked closer to me already.
“I got a spark in me,
” I sing, and push the mic closer to him, so we’re sharing the mic.
“I got a spark in me,”
he echoes with a smile.
“And you're a part of me” “And you're a part of me” “Now 'til eternity” “Now 'til eternity” “Been so long and now we're finally free”
As I hit the high note, Jeremy and Charlie take the chorus again with me adlibbing in between.
“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe” “Been so long and now we're finally free,”
I sing along before getting back to adlibbing.
I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe”
I move back to the keyboard now.
“Been so long and now we're finally free”
The boys stop playing their instruments as I play the last notes on the keyboard and singing the last notes of the song.
“Finally free, yeah...”
Charlie’s looking at me, that proud, puppy-like smile on his face and it gives me all the tingles. I almost forget we’re performing at a party in front of pretty much the entire school until a roaring applause sounds through the living room of the mansion. While Owen comes back from behind his drums, I join the other boys in the middle of the stage and once Owen’s there too, we take a bow. For a moment, we sulk in the attention, taking in the applause.
“That was amazing, you guys!” Jeremy shouts excitedly when we get off the stage with the sound of the people buzzing around us.
“Let’s get something to drink,” Charlie suggests when I’m stopped by a girl I know from school.
“Where did you get that outfit?!” she asks excitedly, taking the jacket between her fingers. That’s Tori, one of Brianna’s friends. She normally never talks to me.
“Should I get you something?” Charlie whispers in my ear with his hand on my lower back.
“Yeah, get me some punch, please?” he nods his head and then leaves with the boys. “I designed it, actually. A project with my uncle,” I tell her with a smile, reminded by the Sunday Uncle Mitch and I decided to have a crafty afternoon.
“It’s so pretty!” she squeals with a smile that nearly reaches her ears. “And who are those boys? They don’t go to our school right?” I shake my head.
“No, they go to a different school. I met them at the Music Store, where I work.” It feels weird talking to Tori, but a good weird. She’s so much nicer than Brianna, it makes me wonder why she’s friends with her anyway.
“They’re cute!” I smile, looking at my boys in the kitchen at the punch bowl.
“Yeah, they are.” I don’t notice Tori walking away and being replaced by someone else until I turn around and find Jake before me. “Oh, hey.” My smile fades quickly.
“Just wanted to tell you how amazing you were up there and that I’m happy you came to the party.” I nervously look back to where the boys are, hoping they’ll notice me, but their backs are turned towards me.
“Uhm, yeah… Thanks, Jake.”
“We used to be good together, didn’t we?” The question takes me aback a little.
“I mean, yeah, we
used
to…” I don’t know where this conversation is going, but I don’t like it for one second. This is giving me a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Can’t we go back to what we used to be?” He takes a step forward, and I take one back. Then his hands are on my waist, where they used to fit so perfectly back in the day. Then his lips are on mine and I’m trying my hardest to push him off me. Even turning my head away doesn’t help one bit. My sight blurs and then it’s black. Pitch black. Up until I feel several hands on me. One hand on my back, two hands on my shoulders and the ones on my waist disappear. Once my sight is back, I find Owen holding me tight and Jeremy was too until he sprung into action and tears Charlie off of Jake before he can punch my ex.
“You okay, Ems?” Owen asks, rubbing my back.
“Yeah,” I whisper, “Charlie?” I don’t think he hears me. He’s just staring at Jake and his buddies that have surrounded him, and he’s panting. “Charlie!” He seemingly snaps out of his thoughts and turns around slowly. The fire and hatred in his eyes quickly fade away when he sees me. He walks up to me and cups my face, his thumbs rubbing my cheeks. Only then I notice I’d been crying.
“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly.
“Yeah, I am…” I whisper, not entirely certain myself. Owen takes a step back as Charlie wraps me up in his arms and Jeremy joins by our side too. “Can we go, though?” I don’t even dare to look at Jake. He’s never been violent during our relationship and now he does this?
“Can we hang out at the store for a while?” I ask when we’re outside the mansion to head home. “I don’t want to go home yet.”
“Do you want some alone time with Charlie?” Jeremy asks, for once a sensible question.
“No, I want all of you guys with me.” He shoots me the happiest, most sympathetic smile he’s ever given me.
At the Music Store, Charlie puts me down on the armchair at the window, wrapping me up in a blanket. It has started to rain, the droplets pattering against the glass next to me, calming me down a little. Jeremy and Owen sit down on the floor in front of me whilst Charlie has squeezed into the chair with me, his arms wrapped around me.
“At least now all of you have met my ex-boyfriend,” I chuckle, but it doesn’t get the reaction I wanted to.
“And he nearly met Charlie’s fist,” Jeremy chimes in, but not with the same humoristic tone.
“Has he always been like that?” Owen questions, pulling his knees up to his chest.
“No, he’s never been violent with me or anything. I never thought he would…” I swallow the lump in my throat, thinking about what had just happened. “He actually broke up with me when…” I look up at Charlie to find some courage, “When my Uncle died a year ago. I hadn’t left my house in a long time, didn’t eat, didn’t play any music. And Jake just got sick of it… So he broke up with me.” Charlie presses me closer towards him and kisses me on the head whilst Owen rubs my knee comfortingly.
“I’m sorry you had to get through that, Emsie,” Jeremy says, “I know what it feels like to lose a family member close to you.” I offer him a sympathetic smile, but don’t push him to tell me anything.
“He’s a real jerk, isn’t he?” goes Owen, and it makes me chuckle a little.
“That’s an understatement.”
For the rest of the night, we sit like this at the window, chatting about life. Deep subjects, funny anecdotes, … I tell them about Uncle Robert when he was still alive, and I tell them about Uncle Mitch and our Sundays. I talk about my parents kicking me out. All while Charlie holds me close and peppers me with kisses. Even in terrible situations, these boys are still here by my side and I doubt they’ll be leaving any time soon.
Taglist: @parkeret​​ @lukeys-giggle​ @hannahhistorian92​ @gingerxarmy​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @lovesanimals​  @thequirkybookaholic​ Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!
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atmilliways · 4 years ago
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Happy belated birthday, @offdensmith! I hope you like my first attempt with this pairing. 
~
It was a jolt, seeing someone he hadn’t quite decided what to think about yet at a random dive bar. And being seen in return. Weird to run into the band’s new manager, who seemed like a total square, in a social setting—like running into a teacher at the grocery store. But before Magnus knew what was happening, the man was waving him over with every indication that he was quite pleased to see him and calling, “Magnus! Over here!”  
Not that he could hear him over the music and other general noise, but he could read lips well enough to tell that’s what he was saying.
Bemused, Magnus made his way across the bar. The crowd jostled him the whole way, and pushed him a lot closer to Offdensen than he’d meant to get, nearly knocking over the man and his barstool, but this didn’t seem to present a problem. In fact, Charles threw an arm around Magnus’ neck in greeting and leaned in and hissed urgently in his ear: “Please help me, I’ve been trying to get rid of this woman for half an hour.” 
He smelled very faintly of alcohol, but not enough to explain the presumptuous familiarity of the hug. Magnus glanced over Offdensen’s shoulder at the fake blonde with ample cleavage whose expression was somewhere in flux between smugly seductive and startled disappointment, and realized what the man was talking about. She looked like the kind of girl that he himself seldom had the energy for. There was a weird level of performance, of showmanship, that they always seemed to demand, like they were trying to live out some sort of porno or something. It was exhausting. 
So he could sympathize. Not exactly something he did often, but why not help the guy out? He’d already spent all his cash on drinks and smokes for the night, so it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. 
Smirking, Magnus looped one arm around the man’s waist. “There you are, babe,” he said loudly and with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Miss me?” 
He made direct eye contact with the woman, who looked about to object, before grabbing Offdensen’s ass—surprisingly firm under the suit, for a glorified desk jockey—and tugging him forward against his chest and into a quick peck on the lips. With his free hand he flipped the woman off, and watched in amusement as she flitted away, red faced. 
“There,” he said to Offdensen, dropping back into his usual sardonic tones as he released the man, “you’re clear. She won’t be back.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Offdensen replied, raising an eyebrow high above his thick black frames. “Very, ah, effective of you. I was, ah, thinking more along the lines of you faking an emergency that I had to rush off to attend to, but, ah . . . that works too.”
If there was one thing Magnus hated it was not being appreciated, and, well. He’d solved the problem, but wasn’t exactly being thanked profusely for it, and that rankled. Plus, kissing the new manager on the mouth, before he’d even gotten the band signed with a label? Stupid, cocky, impulsive, and the guys would be pissed if he got them dropped right after they’d signed all the damn paperwork the guy had given them. Suddenly he was hyper aware of everywhere on his mostly bare chest (because fuck shirt buttons, those were the worst) Offdensen had bumped into a moment ago, and he did not appreciate the heat he felt rising in his own face. 
“Hey, fuck you man,” he snapped. “I helped you out, now you owe me a drink.” Scowling, he dropped onto the woman’s recently vacated bar stool. “What are you doing in a place like this anyway, and not curled up in bed with a nice law book and a cup of fuckin’ . . . hot cocoa or something?”
Offdensen took his seat, shrugging and signaling to the bartender in one practiced motion. “I’ve been, ah, coming to this establishment since 1982. The decor and ambiance have changed, but a liquor license is still a liquor license.” He accepted two glasses as they were slid across the bar and passed one to Magnus with a nod. “Why should I stop coming if I was here first?” 
“Yeah, well.” Magnus sipped experimentally, and found that it was a surprisingly mellow, complex brandy—nothing like the harsh rotgut and happy hour well drinks that were all he could usually afford. This, he found himself actually bothering to taste as it went down. “. . . Hire some muscle next time if you want protection from the horny and the restless, ‘cause I won’t always just happen to be around to sweep in and fucking rescue you.” 
“I am paying you in drink,” Offdensen pointed out. But Magnus happened to be watching out of the corner of his eye and saw a flicker of something behind the spectacles, and wondered. 
He was kind of surprised Offdensen even knew his first name, especially considering they’d never really had a one on one conversation before. Sure, it was on the paperwork he’d signed along with the guys, but that was only if Offdensen could decipher his shitty handwriting, 
“And not that I anticipated needing it,” Charles continued, looking at a point somewhere over Magnus’ left shoulder, “but I’m sure your muscle would have been capable enough, should it have become, ah, necessary. According to your, ah, arrest records.” 
. . . Or maybe Offdensen was just the kind of guy who did his research. Bean counters could be like that, always going into the nitty gritty details—like the number of bar fights Magnus tended to get into on a regular basis. And the fifty-fifty split of what kinds of bars those were. 
Magnus put his drink down with a suspicious squint. Wait a minute. . . . “You were the one who hugged me,” he accused. “That wasn’t fishing for a fake emergency, you were totally trying to get me to pretend—Admit it!” 
He was annoyed now, but not very. It was kind of funny, actually; Offdensen trying to pretend no homo just to keep the conversation as bland and impersonal as possible. Magnus had been in other bands before, and he knew the hands-off, business-only types. Honestly, it was a sign that Offdensen was probably a decent manager. The bad ones would get drunk and high with their bands and end up either dropping the ball or screwing musicians over. But like, after broadcasting the equivalent of, Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second? Kinda fucking priceless. 
It didn’t matter what Offdensen said next. Either way, that was the moment he decided he liked the guy.
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The Name Written on My Heart
Sequel to Name on a Coffee Cup  requested by Anon. Happy Valentines/Galentines Day my darlings! 
Modern!Tommy and Ava continue their relationship outside the cafe.
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             After his first date with Ava, Tommy felt like his heart was slowly being restarted. After Grace passed, he assumed that the rest of his love would be given to Charlie. But even then, he felt like he was failing.
            Oftentimes his son would much rather go spend the day with his aunts or uncles or have playdates with friends. Polly assured him that it was natural for the young boy to want to be independent as he got older. But still, Tommy felt like he was always the second pick for Charlie and he was afraid it was because he just wasn’t enough for the boy. 
            When Ava began to spend time at Tommy’s flat, Charlie gravitated toward her like a magnet. Not that Tommy could blame him. She was much better at interacting with him. She wasn’t afraid to get down to his level to play and go along with his wild imagination. Still, Tommy was a bit dismayed he wasn’t the kind of father Charlie needed.
            Until he subconsciously took cues from Ava to relax a bit. He wasn’t as strict and felt like his relationship with Charlie was getting better and more natural.
~~~~~~~~~~
            On the other hand, Tommy was easing back into a serious relationship. There were a few roadblocks along the way. Around Halloween one year, Ava came over to carve pumpkins and bake some sugar cookies in the shape of bats and ghosts. Charlie had a ball and demanded that Monster Mash be played over and over again as he darted around the living room on a sugar high. When he finally crashed, Tommy carried him to bed before helping Ava clean up the mess in the kitchen.
            “It’s late.” She noted.
            “Yeah, I’ll drive you home. Don’t want you taking the tube this late.”
            “Oh.” Ava glanced by the door where she’d left her bag. The bag that she had packed a change of clothes and her toothbrush in. Her face went red as she realized how stupid it was that she thought it would be the first night she might sleepover.  
            Tommy read her expression and paused. They’d been dating for quite some time. Almost two years at that point. He was even beginning to think that maybe they would spend the rest of their lives together. He could certainly see it happening, even if it was a bit soon to know for sure. And yet, there was always that hesitation that he felt. The protectiveness he had for Charlie. The thought that Tommy didn’t deserve love. The fear that he would lose someone else that he cared so deeply about.
            “I understand, it’s alright,” Ava said as if she could read his mind.
            Tommy didn’t move for a moment. Half of him wanted her to stay, half of him wanted to just drive her home so he could be by himself. Something he thought he deserved. She was far too kind and forgiving for him. Far too sensible. Far too sweet. Far too understanding.
            “Stay.” The word came out before Tommy could realize what he’d said. “I want you to stay. You belong here…you’re perfect with Charlie and you get him better than I do. I know I don’t deserve you but I would do anything to have you here, even if it’s just for a night.”
            Ava hugged him close and kissed his cheek. “I think you’re selling yourself too short.” She murmured. “Charlie adores you and so do I.”
            Tommy took a deep breath and held her for a moment before she slipped away.
            “C’mon, let’s take care of this mess so we can go to bed.” She smiled at him.
~~~~~~~~~~
            It was what Tommy loved about her so much. She made having emotions so much easier. There was no big spectacle of it, she never called him out for feeling upset or depressed. She always knew exactly what to say.
            The next year, once Ava’s lease was up, she moved into Tommy’s flat. Charlie was overjoyed that he had there every day. And she meshed perfectly with their schedules. On the days that she was opening the café, she woke up early, around the same time Tommy did. They went about their morning routines and welcomed in Charlie’s nanny who would wake up the boy for school. When Ava worked later shifts, she took care of getting Charlie to school on time. It worked exceptionally well.
            Almost to a point where Tommy expected things to go wrong. Everything was going too well and he became very suspicious. About a year after Ava moved in, Tommy self-sabotaged.
~~~~~~~~~~~
            One night, Ava had gone out with friends from uni that she hadn’t seen in a while. Tommy was up late working at the flat when she came home. Although a little tipsy, she was coherent as she kissed his cheek and wrapped her arms around him from behind.
            “I take it you had fun then.” Tommy chuckled.
            “It really was. Of course, we didn’t close the pub like we did back in those days. My ex-boyfriend wanted to stay but we were all so tired.” She laughed softly.
            It set off a trigger inside Tommy. “Didn’t know your ex would be there.”
            “Our whole friend group was. We’ve been planning a little reunion like this for a while.” Ava didn’t immediately pick up on his icy tone.
            Tommy set down his pen and leaned back in his desk chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “Just something I thought you’d tell me.”
            “I didn’t think it would matter.” She frowned and withdrew her arms. “It doesn’t bother you, does it?”
            He didn’t answer, looking ahead at his laptop on a home screen.
            “Tommy, honestly.” Ava tried again to make him talk with no avail. “We dated years ago. I’ve been dating you longer than I’ve ever dated anyone else. You really think I’d throw that all away?”
            Tommy simply shrugged.
            She scoffed at his attempt to be blasé to the issue when she knew he was stewing inside. “You’re impossible.” With a huff, she stormed out of the room and went to the bedroom, locking the door behind her.
 ~~~~~~~~
            The next day was even worse. After spending the night on the couch, Tommy felt like an ass for what he’d done. Although it wasn’t an argument like they’d had before, it still cut deep. He had basically spelled out that he didn’t trust her. It wasn’t entirely true. Tommy trusted Ava because it was unlike her to be unfaithful. But he didn’t trust the world. He’d seen what could happen to good people. In his eyes, Ava had a target on her back because of her tendency to be so warm-hearted and vulnerable.
            That morning, Ava had left before Tommy could even get a word of apology in. She didn’t answer his texts throughout the day and it drove him insane. He had to settle for the breakroom coffee because he couldn’t gather up the courage to go down to the café and face Ava.
            The rest of the office picked up on the fact that he was in a sour mood. All but Arthur, who walked in whistling to himself.
            “So, what’ve you got planned for Valentine’s Day?” The eldest Shelby asked.
            Tommy looked up from his paperwork, then to the calendar on his desk. Indeed, Valentine’s Day was that weekend. He’d ordered a custom bracelet for Ava and had it hidden in his desk drawer. But other than that, he’d completely forgotten. “I’m not sure.” He mumbled. “I upset her last night.”
            Arthur sighed. “Tom, we’ve talked about this. You don’t think you deserve happiness so you ruin your own life. You can make it up to her. Just put on the ‘ol charm, aye?”
 ~~~~~~~~~~~` 
            Ava was giving Tommy the silent treatment for most of the week. He felt it was deserved and just prayed Arthur was right and that he could redeem himself.
            Come Sunday, Ava came home from work. She still felt hurt, especially since Tommy appeared to have forgotten it was even Valentine’s Day. But then Charlie rushed to the door.
            “Ava, Ava!” He was bouncing up and down. “C’mon!” He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the kitchen.
            Tommy was chopping up vegetables. He glanced up and smiled sheepishly.
            Ava looked a bit confused. “What’s all this?” There was an array of items all laid out on the counter. Balls of dough were resting on cutting boards next to little bowls of toppings.
            “I asked Charlie what we could do special for Valentine’s Day.”
            “And I wanted pizza!” The little boy piped up. “Look, he climbed up onto a stool and patted the dough.
            A small smile formed on Ava’s face. “Well, that looks fun.” She said and walked over.
            “Here, Charlie,” Tommy handed his son the rolling pin. “Try to flatten it, but not too thin.” Then he turned to Ava.
            “So, you were scheming today, huh?” She asked.
            “Av, I’m sorry.” He took her hands in his. “Whenever I have a good thing, I never think I deserve it. And you’re one of the best things I’ve ever had.”
            “I don’t want you pushing me away.” She replied quietly. “If you have an issue, tell me. I’m here to be your confidant.”
            Tommy nodded and took a deep breath. He kissed her softly.
            “Daddy, s’a square pizza!” Charlie exclaimed.
            The two pulled away and chuckled. Indeed, the little boy had rolled the dough out into a square.
            “I guess it’ll taste the same.” Ava smiled and went over to help him.
            Tommy lingered to the side a bit, watching her with Charlie. The two laughed as they made a mess with the sauce and cheese.
            This was a good thing. He would hold onto the good and keep it close to his heart. Everyone deserved love. Tommy was just thankful that he had Ava and Charlie.
            “Daddy, look,” Charlie called.
            Tommy chuckled when he saw a smiley face made of pepperoni on the pizza. “Why don’t you make it a heart? It’s Valentine’s Day.”
            His son made a face. “That’s yucky.”
            “Oh, Charles, you won’t be my Valentine?” Ava pouted.
            “No, gross. Girls are gross.”
            “Are they, then?” Tommy raised an eyebrow then went to give Ava a big dramatic kiss.
            “EW!” Charlie pulled his shirt over his head to hide his face.
            They laughed. “Alright, alright. I guess your dad will be my Valentine. And maybe we can add a nose to the smiley face.” Ava put another piece of pepperoni on the pizza. “Go on and add some peppers and onions. I’ve got to get your Valentine gifts.” She washed her hands and went down the hall.
            Tommy took the cue and grabbed Ava’s necklace from his briefcase.
            Ava returned with two wrapped gifts. “Charlie, love, this is from dad and me.” She gave him a box which he happily tore into to find an art supply kit.
            “Wow, cool! Thanks!” He beamed.
            Ava and Tommy exchanged gifts as well. He opened his to find a photograph of his newest racehorse with his name, Kingsman, carved into the silver frame.
            “To add to your collection.” She smiled knowing that Tommy kept a photo of all of his winning horses in his office.
            “I love it.” He remarked at the stunning picture of the pure black stallion.
            Ava didn’t answer. She had opened the jewelry box to find the silver necklace with a teardrop diamond pendant. She had never owned anything so beautiful before. “Tom…” Her eyes welled up with tears.
            “D’you like it?” He asked hesitantly.
            “Of course.” Her voice shook. “It’s gorgeous, thank you.” She touched his cheek and kissed him deeply.
            “Daddy, I don’t like mushrooms, I’m not putting mushrooms on the pizza.” Charlie interrupted them.
            “Alright, it was worth a shot.” Tommy sighed and went back over to the counter.
            “That looks very nice, Charlie.” Ava praised. “Why don’t we let dad put it in the oven and we can check out your new art supplies.”
            “Okay!” Charlie hopped down from the stool and carried the box to the kitchen table.
            Ava kissed Tommy’s cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” She said softly.
//It felt so funny writing the tube. Like I feel like it’s some sort of slang that Americans think British people use but they don’t? In my city we call the subway the T. That’s also stupid but our subway lines are bastards who don’t deserve full names or loving nicknames. Fuck you T. 
Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby
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lady-divine-writes · 4 years ago
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Klaine Advent Drabble 2020 - “Wanky” (NC17)
Summary: An unfortunate find in a secret drawer leads poor Tracy to believe that she's getting a dog for Christmas, and leaves Kurt stuck between a rock and a hard place: does he stick to his guns, or does he traumatize his sweet, innocent daughter for life? (1918 words)
Notes: Written for the @klaineadvent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'learn'.
Read on AO3.
“Hey, guys!" Kurt sings from the front door, brushing snow off the shoulders of his coat before he crosses the threshold. "We’re back!”
"Sorry we took so long," Blaine says, "but we had a heck of a time finding ..."
“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” Tracy squeals, leaping into Blaine’s arms the second he comes to a stop in their living room. "Both of you! Thank you so much!"
“Thank us?” He wraps his daughter in a bear hug, confused as all get out but in no way stupid enough to turn down a hug. “Thank us for what? Kurt?” 
Kurt shrugs, making a don’t know noise as he sheds his coat and hangs it, returning quickly for a turn in the hug rotation. "Brittany? Santana?" He looks expectantly at the ladies who have been watching their daughter all afternoon. "Do you know what's going on?"
Brittany, hands behind her back, shifts her weight anxiously from foot to foot, while Santana, arms crossed over her chest, looks nearly gleeful. It’s Santana's glee more than Brittany’s anxiety that makes Kurt’s back start to sweat. 
“It seems Tracy here was poking around in your naughty bits and found herself a little treat.”
Kurt and Blaine shoot her confused looks, though Kurt’s leans more towards annoyed.
“Can you be any less vague?” Kurt asks.
Santana grins. “No.”
Brittany carefully enters the conversation. “Tracy may have accidentally figured out what you guys are getting her for Christmas.”
"And what are we getting her for Christmas?" Blaine asks.
Brittany swallows hard. "A ... a dog."
Tracy dislodges herself from Blaine's torso and latches on to Kurt’s.
"What?" Kurt says, dumbfounded.
“Didn’t we specifically say no to a dog?” Blaine whispers. 
Kurt hugs his daughter tight, stealthily covering her ears with his hand. “We did."
"So how did she come to that conclusion?” 
“She found this.” A guilty smile flickers across Brittany’s lips as she brings a hand out from behind her back and shows Kurt something that makes his face turn paper white. He doesn't have to look at his husband to know that Blaine is wearing the same dropped-jaw, mushroom pale expression of horror that he is.
Brittany is handing him a black leather collar with a row of rhinestones across the front.
When Kurt comes to his senses, he reaches for the collar, eager to tuck it out of sight. 
Mortifyingly, Tracy intercepts it. 
She eyes it reverently. But then she sighs, her expression slipping from overjoyed smile to apologetic frown. 
“I’m sorry I snooped in your special drawer.”
“Didn’t we make it perfectly clear that drawer is off-limits?” Blaine asks, crouching to talk to her.
“You did.” Tracy hugs the collar to her chest, afraid the dog she has wanted for so long might be slipping away from her.
“Then why did you look in there?”
“It seems a little birdie told her it’s only off-limits because that's where you hide her presents,” Santana explains, maneuvering her shrinking wife behind the protection of her body. “Poor, impatient Tracy couldn’t resist.”
Kurt glares over Santana’s shoulder at Brittany, who completely disappears behind her wife. 
Blaine stands, ruffles his daughter’s hair, then takes his husband by the elbow and gives him a tug in the direction of the kitchen. “Excuse us, Peanut. I need to talk to your Papa alone for a minute.”
“Ok, Daddy.” Tracy releases Kurt and walks glumly towards Santana, sighing significantly as she slips into her arms, still hugging that collar to her chest.
That’s the scene that kills Kurt.
Tracy hugging that collar.
The collar he wears on his and Blaine’s "special" nights out.
The kind where they pretend they don’t know one another, and they flirt in a bar like strangers. Blaine picks him up with a proposition, money exchanges hands, and they spend all night in a room at a no-tell motel with Blaine riding him, pulling his hair hard, calling him his "good little bitch".
Yup. His nine-year-old daughter is hugging that collar.
“Oh my God!” Blaine says the second they're behind closed doors, a hint of amusement in his tone that gives Kurt an urge to flick him on the forehead. “What do we do? What do we do?”
“I hope we’re agreed that she doesn’t deserve a thing if she’s invading our privacy!”
“Yeah … well … hmmm …” Blaine waffles. 
Kurt’s eyes go wide. “Blaine!”
“To be honest, Kurt, I don’t know what you have against the family having a dog. Tracy has wanted one forever. It would be a good companion for her. Besides …” He looks down at his hands, twiddles his thumbs “… I … kinda … want one.”
“That’s great!” Kurt snaps, frustrated since he thought they were a unified front on this issue. “But tell me this - who’s going to take care of it? Huh? Who's going to feed it and walk it and clean up after it when it vomits on the floor at three in the morning? I’ll tell you exactly who’s going to do all of that! I will!”
“We can teach her to be responsible! She’s at that age!”
“This isn’t the way things like this are supposed to work! If she wants a dog, she needs to earn it! Not commit a misdemeanor! That proves she’s not mature enough! And if we give in, we'll be perpetuating that behavior!”
“Technically, it’s not her fault. You heard what Santana said.”
“Yeah, well, that only proves someone else is culpable. It doesn’t change the fact that Tracy broke the rules. In fact, if she thought her Christmas presents were in that drawer, that makes things worse!”
“This one indiscretion aside, she deserves a dog! She’s a straight-A student. She keeps her room clean without being told. She helps out with dinner, the laundry, the dusting. And let’s face it, between your trophies, my trophies, and all the other knick-knacks in this house, she deserves a dog for that alone!”
“I am not going to make this decision on the spur of the moment! We need to talk about boundaries, hash out rules!”
“Fair enough."
“Which we will do after the holidays!”
“And what do we do until then?” Blaine asks, his eyes brimming with the same disappointment Tracy’s had. He'd started getting excited when he thought Kurt might cave. Now Kurt's pulling a "we'll see". “She already found the collar. How are you going to explain owning that if we aren’t getting her a dog for Christmas? Which is in about a week, by the way.”
“We’ll be honest with her,” Kurt decides. “We’ll explain, in age-appropriate terms, why we have that collar.”
Blaine jerks back, the fringes of a chuckle tickling his throat. “So … she’s mature enough to know about your collar kink, but not old enough to own a dog?”
“I’ll … cross that bridge when I get to it, all right?” Kurt mumbles, his face turning bright red. "But for now, that's my final decision! End of discussion! Take it or leave it!"
Kurt turns on his heel and heads for the living room. He will not be manipulated into giving in, even if this whole thing did start with a misunderstanding.
He opens the door and spots Tracy rocking in Blaine’s recliner, looking at pictures on Brittany’s phone, while Brittany and Santana sit beside her, making encouraging comments. 
Tracy, still hugging that Godforsaken collar, looks like she’s been crying. 
Brittany looks positively devastated, as if she didn’t just ruin Tracy’s chance for happiness, but helped her get the dog of her dreams, then ran it over with her car.
Santana leads the conversation, which Kurt assumes is about clothes - one of Tracy’s favorite things to window shop. But as Kurt walks closer, he catches a peek at the screen, and his heart deflates. During his and Blaine’s conversation, Tracy had started a Pinterest board titled ‘My Favorite Dogs in the World’. Brittany and Santana are helping her add to it – teacup poodles, Pomeranians, Chihuahuas, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel ...
'That one's cute,' Kurt thinks when he spots the silky thing. 'That fur would be fun to style. We could do it together! A bright pink bow, maybe a sparkly barrette ...'
The sparkly barrette brings his mind back to his collar, and he gives himself a hard, mental shake.
'No. Don't waver. Stay the course.'
He approaches his daughter slowly, preparing himself for the worst conversation of his life so far. 
Kurt swallows hard. “Tracy?”
Tracy looks up at him with watery eyes. “Yes, Papa?”
Her bottom lip wobbles.
Ugh! This is going to be impossible!
“There’s something I need to explain to you … about that collar.”
“Yes?”
Kurt crouches down in front of Tracy, meeting her eye to eye. “You see, sometimes when you buy a collar, it’s for a dog.”
“A-ha …” Tracy says, hopeful ... and mildly confused.
“And sometimes, two people … two grown adults who don’t own a dog ... might buy a collar to …”
Brittany and Santana both gasp when they realize what he’s doing. 
Brittany stares like a deer in headlights.
Santana, on the verge of a laughing fit, gets up and leaves the room.
“Yes, Papa?”
“Well, they might buy a collar because …”
“Because …”
"Because ..." Kurt looks at Tracy, silently wishing she'd catch on without him having to say another word. Not catch on to what they use the collar for, but catch on to the fact that no, they will not be getting a dog right now. He looks into her huge, brown eyes, so much like Blaine’s, her hopeful expression dimming with every second of this asinine explanation. 
Is he really going to do this? 
Is he really going to tell his beloved daughter that she's not getting a dog because that collar she found is one of her fathers’ favorite sex toys? That the last time they used it, Kurt was wearing it, and Blaine was riding him like a bronco, growling obscenities and smacking his ass?
No! He can’t do that! 
What responsible parent would!?
When Kurt first found out he was going to be a father, his own father gave him some valuable life advice. 
“When you become a parent, you sort of fool yourself into believing that you’re in charge. You're the teacher," his dad had said. "But in reality, parenting will put you on your ass over and over until you realize you know nothing. But you learn. And one of the most important lessons you’ll ever learn is to pick your battles. Because situations will come up that you’ll never dream of, things that you hope to never handle. But, in the end, when you’re debating right and wrong, you have to decide – are you doing what’s best for your child? Or what’s best for you? Because, surprisingly, the two aren’t always the same.”
In short, Kurt has to choose between psychological trauma, pet dog, or sticking to a rule that's rigid simply because bending it would hurt his ego.
When he thinks of it in those terms, the answer is simple.
His father, as always, is right - mostly.
The most important lesson Kurt will learn from this particular situation is that he needs to get a lock on that damned drawer!
Because watching their new pet tromp through the house wearing that collar is going to burn his eyes every day of his life until he dies.
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residentanchor · 5 years ago
Text
When the Mask Falls
Word count: 10k+
Ships: Sleepxiety
Summary: Virgil has worked as a messenger for pretty much all of his life to make ends meet. It worked well, he hardly had to talk and he did enjoy the quiet time on the road, but he was always excited to make it back home. He mostly delivered letters for the rich family in town, the Dormir’s, as they tried to find a person to marry their son.
He was glad Remy Dormir was as particular as he was. Remy spoke his mind and turned down every marriage offer before it could begin before running off to the pubs behind his parent’s back to party. He was Virgil’s best friend and long time crush, but he was okay with pining from the sidelines. He didn’t want to become the next person Remy chased out of town... and their friendship was more than enough for him. 
Warnings: unsympathetic Deceit, angst, cursing, kidnapping, happy ending
Note: This was a writing commission for /@theeternalspace! Thanks so much, I appreciate it!
Virgil wrapped his cloak around him a bit closer as he made his way up the path. He was tired from running around all day despite the fact it was a regular occurrence for him. Whenever he was traveling home, he pushed himself a bit harder than normal. He didn’t dislike nights camping in the woods, but he always missed the comfort of his own bed. However, a job was a job and he was quick on his feet. When the Dormir’s, the richest family in the town, decided to hire him, he couldn’t say no. Running around delivering packages and letters wasn’t glorious, but it paid well enough for him.
Though, he was finishing his last job for them right now. The big house that loomed in front of him was a familiar and welcoming sight. The home of the richest people around, the Dormir’s, along with his best friend, Remington. As Virgil climbed the stairs and knocked on the door to deliver his final letter, he looked up towards the sky and saw the sun at its peak. It was almost midday, still too early for Remy to be awake most likely. Virgil had gotten back home faster than he had thought.
The door creaked open and a familiar face answered. “Virgil, good to see you again. Are you here for master Remington?”
Virgil reached into his bag and pulled out the crisp letter. “I can wake him for you if you need. I’m just dropping this off.”
The servant nodded and took the letter. “Excellent. Shall I expect you to deliver a response for us once again?”
The servant moved and made room for Virgil to enter. With a nod, he accepted and stepped into the home. “I don’t think so, he didn’t wait around this time.”
“Very well. I suppose I shall deliver this and prepare to have guests.”
“I’ll go wake Remy up before his parents find out he was probably out all night again.”
Virgil quickly made his way up the stairs and to his best friend’s bedroom door. He hardly gave it a knock before he opened it, slipping quietly inside. The room was dark, curtains blocking out the morning sun as best they could. Remy was nothing more than a lump of blankets on the bed and Virgil rolled his eyes.
“Come on, Rem, it’s almost midday!” He leaned over and nudged the lump, earning a groan from his friend. “Your parents are going to be looking for you soon. You sure you want to still be in bed when they get here?”
“Ugh, fine. I’ll get up.” Remy sat up and ran a hand through his hair. Virgil thought it wasn’t fair how nice his bed head looked in comparison to his own. Remy took almost no time to prepare claiming that his beauty just came so naturally. Virgil always huffed at that but couldn’t deny how useful it could be sometimes. “What do they want now?”
“I just came back with a response letter again.”
Remy rolled his eyes and stretched, letting out a yawn. “Hate to break this to you, but you’re always bringing back letters. It’s kind of your job?” Remy slipped out from underneath the blankets and headed for his armoire to get an outfit for the day.
“From the people they’ve been talking to, smart ass. They didn’t seem like they were expecting a response back this time. Which can only mean one of two things.”
“My parents changed their mind or someone from the Darvin family is coming to visit. Joy...”
Virgil scoffed and turned away to let his friend get changed. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea to just invite them over like you’ve been friends for years. You don’t know them!”
“True, but my parents have been exchanging letters for weeks now. You know this, you are their messenger.” Virgil flushed a bit as he heard the sound of ruffling clothes fall. “Which means they’re probably gonna try to set me up with their son or something.”
“Charles. I already don’t like him, I bet he’s more stuck up than you are.”
“Aww, Virgil, you jealous?”
“Excuse me--jealous of what?!”
“The idea of me in another man’s arms? Come on, Virgil, you’re my best friend and I am cute.”
Virgil ducked his head away, glad his back was to his friend. He could feel the blush growing on his face. “Yuck, no thanks. He can have you.”
“A lot of people want me, it happens when you’re rich and beautiful. Besides,” Remy’s footsteps sounded a bit closer as he walked up to Virgil. He stepped into view, fully dressed and presentable. “He doesn’t go by Charles. He goes by his middle name.”
“Charles D. Darvin. What’s his middle name anyway?”
Remy snickered a bit. “The D. stands for Dee, actually.”
“How original.” Virgil looked unamused. “They couldn’t afford a full name, really? I thought your parents tried pairing you off with every rich family they came across?”
Remy moved toward the door and threw it open. “They have money, trust me. Their family has been wealthy for generations. Probably why my parents want to get us to meet so quickly.”
“So they’re gonna sell you off to moneybags? Good, get you out of my hair finally.” Virgil couldn’t hide the playful smile on his face from Remy if he tried.
Remy scoffed as he started down the hallway with Virgil trailing after him. “I will not hesitate to drop his ass if he tries anything, you know that. I don’t care what my parents say, I’m not going to marry the first person they throw at me.”
“Yeah, that’s what you said the last three times they tried to marry you off.” Remy turned and glared at his best friend as Virgil just smirked back. “Hasn’t worked yet.”
“I am a treasure that is only worthy of someone I choose.” 
“Yeah, good luck with that.” Remy looked over to his friend and sighed dramatically. “What?”
“How are you so ignorant? I’m irresistible, Virge! No one can keep away from me for long! It’s just a matter of me picking who I want.”
“Whatever you say, Rem.”
----
Virgil had a bit more free time now that he wasn’t delivering letters for the Dormir’s once more. It usually didn’t last very long. Remy had a streak of chasing away his parent’s latest attempt at having their son settle down. Then they hired Virgil to deliver more letters as they continued to look. It wasn’t perfect but it worked well enough for Virgil and let him stay close to Remy. He felt like the Dormir’s didn’t approve of their friendship but let Remy get away with practically anything, even having a friend they thought wasn’t worthy enough. Virgil was just glad they were too busy to realize the hopeless gaze he had for their son. Virgil was smitten but he would never admit it or act upon it. It was obvious enough that Remy didn’t return his feelings, but their friendship was something he’d always treasure. For now, he’d wait while Remy played with his newest guest.
Unfortunately, that meant that they were busy preparing for their visitors so he wasn’t exactly welcomed at the moment. He’d simply be in the way while ‘actual important people’ were there. The Darvin’s were sending their eldest son in hopes of doing what other families had failed to do--marry the only Dormir heir there was. Remy’s family was rich and owned quite a bit of land and everyone around knew it. Marrying Remington Dormir would give them power, something everyone seemed to be after. Remy was going to inherit everything himself which made him the perfect target for money hungry families to try and pair their children off with him, gender be damned. The whole idea sounded stupid and upsetting to Virgil, and not just because of his unrequited crush. He hated seeing people try to win over his best friend with promises of money and power that Remy obviously didn’t care about. Something good came of it, he supposed. If he could sit back and enjoy Remy calling out all these families and putting them in their place, it made dealing with it almost worth it.
Though, that part hasn’t happened yet. They were still waiting for this ‘Charles’ to arrive and that left Virgil incredibly bored with no one to talk to until the ordeal had passed. If they didn’t infuriate Remy by the first day, he’d keep them around for a bit to entertain himself, which means Virgil might meet them before they ultimately left. If there was one thing Virgil didn’t like, it was having to deal with new people. Shoving letters at them and taking new ones before walking away? Fine. Actually having a conversation? Just plain cruel.
There was one thing that Virgil held no doubts about. Remy wasn’t the type to settle or like anyone, really. Remy didn’t just swoon and fall in love. The fact he got along so well with him was so strange, it’s the only reason the Dormir’s allow Virgil to talk to their son at all he feels. Well, besides it being something Remy wanted himself. They never denied their only child whatever he wanted. Remy had chased everyone else in his life away after a while. Virgil was the only one to break through the tough exterior that was Remington Dormir’s personality and stay. Virgil took pride in that. He knew, no matter who they were, no one would ‘woo’ Remy and sweep him off his feet. Certainly not enough to chase Virgil off after so many years. 
Finally, a few days after delivering the final letter, the mysterious suitor came into town. He was traveling alone and sat atop a horse, but everyone figured out who he was. He was wrapped in a heavy wool traveler's cloak, embroidered around the seams and far too elaborate and expensive for a simple traveler. He didn’t ask for directions, heading straight for the massive building that peeked through the trees at the edge of town. He didn’t look at or greet anyone as he silently made his way through. Virgil watched him ride by, his perfectly quaffed hair and cleanly shaven face infuriating him to his core. Who did this guy think he was? He hoped Remy was smart enough not to fall for a pretty face.
Virgil was too anxious to follow after him, though. He’d leave them to their fate with Remy, the fear of being caught greater than his need to see how they interacted as they first met. This guy could be gone in a matter of hours, so what did it matter?
---
Remy sat at home listening to his parents fuss over how it was important he made such a good first impression before the suitor appeared, Remy not really caring what happened. All previous suitors were flops, surely this one would be as well. Their speech had been said so many times, he was sure it was rehearsed by this point.
The knock on the door was enough to have his mother take a step back and smile at him. “You’re such a handsome man, you’ll sweep Charles off his feet in no time!”
“Duh,” Remy mumbled under his breath. “It’s the other way around that’s the problem. I am a catch.”
Remy cleared his throat and looked uninterested as his butler brought a man into the room. The stranger took off his cloak and smiled at Remy as if he was genuinely happy to meet him. Remy couldn’t deny he was attractive, but that didn’t mean anything. So were all the others.
“Charles Dee Darvin, but you can call me Dee,” he offered his hand in greeting and Remy took it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Remington Dormir, you may call me Remy.” 
“We’ll leave you two alone,” Remy’s mother called out before shooting her son a glare. “Be nice, Remington!”
Remy waited until the footsteps trailed off and pulled his hand back from the handshake. “Okay, look, ‘Dee’, I’m not looking to get married anytime soon. My parents don’t listen to me when it comes to this stuff. They think shoving every rich person my way will suddenly make me ‘fall in love’ or whatever.”
“Oh thank goodness!” Dee let out a sigh. “Me neither! Truth be told, my parents have recently passed away from illness and, no offense, I’m not really interested either! There’s still so much more I want to do before I get married and take over the family business, you know? Your parents just seemed so excited, I figured I could at least stop by to meet you.”
Remy blinked in surprise before snickering. “Well, then we might just get along great! We can stage a whole fight and get you out of here in no time, but I can at least show you around first!” Dee nodded as Remy strutted by. “I can even show you the town, but we will have to be careful. Everyone around here loves me, of course. How could they not? The only one who isn’t aware of how much they’re in love with me is my best friend, Virgil. He’s in complete denial.”
“Oh? Is he now? How are you so sure of that?”
“Oh, pshh, he’s always coming over and hanging out and checking on these ‘suitors’ my parents send. I mean, I don’t blame him, really. My charm is irresistible!”
“Well,” Dee fell in pace with Remy and smirked devilishly. “How about before I go, I get him to admit he had feelings for you?”
“Oh? Sounds intriguing. And what do you have planned?”
“Well, we pretend we’re falling for each other. We do a bit of flirting and get him to admit he’s jealous. You haven’t had a successful suitor yet, correct? If he thinks this might work, he might slip.” Dee glanced over at Remy as he smirked, proud of his plan. “What do you think?”
“Ohh, how evil! I like it, this could be quite fun! A masterful performance from us and have the whole town be the stage!” Remy threw back his head and laughed. “I think we’ll actually get along rather well!”
“Well, let the flirting begin, shall we?”
---
“Virgil!” The sudden voice startled the man as he jumped, turning toward the source. “I heard you were back in town!” An older man waved and walked over and Virgil resisted a sigh. He was not one for casual conversation.
“Yeah, hey.” Virgil shifted a bit awkwardly, not used to talking to people around town. Most folks just left him alone unless they had work for him. “Did you need something delivered?”
“What? No, I just wanted to say hi!” Virgil tried to believe that, but there was no reason to talk to him unless they wanted something. “Haven’t seen you around! Have you been to Dormir manor?”
Ahh, so that’s what they wanted from him, information. “Yes, I was doing business for them for a while but that’s ended. I haven’t been there recently if that’s what you mean.”
“Oh, so you haven’t seen their newest visitor, then! Quite a handsome young man, this one.”
Virgil had not. It was always exciting news when anyone traveled to their town. They very rarely got random travelers so most people came by for the Dormir’s. When the man on horseback rode through, Virgil tucked away and waited for him to ride by as he always had. He did not want to see the face of the latest person trying to marry his best friend. Not unless they were actually going to stick around this time.
Virgil shook his head and glanced away. “Nah. I know Remy. If they’re just after money and flattery, he’ll have them out of town before sundown.”
“Oh? I thought you’d care about the people trying to marry young Remington.” Virgil looked up at the old man who smiled back. Something about the look he was giving Virgil spoke more than words could. Virgil couldn’t help but blush before he ducked his head away again. “Come now, boy. When are you going to say something about this? You care for that young man, you should step in and--”
“Look.” Virgil took a harsh tone as he glared up at the old man. “Remington Dormir is a brilliant man who can marry whomever he chooses. No suitor will be able to waltz in here and change that.” Virgil took a moment and held his breath. “No matter who that person will be, I will respect his choice because he’s my best friend. Whatever makes him happy.”
The old man let out a sigh as his shoulders dropped. “Boy… What about what will make you happy?”
Virgil closed his eyes and shook his head. “If Remy is happy, then I’ll be happy too. No need to have someone important get mixed up with a peasant boy and become the biggest laughing stock this side of the kingdom.”
“Virgil-”
“I hope you have a nice day, sir.” Virgil quickly spun on his heel and marched away, his tattered cloak billowing around him. The old man called out for him once more but gave up once Virgil didn’t respond.
Remington Dormir. From the day they met as kids, he didn’t care about Virgil’s ‘lower status’. When Virgil didn’t treat him special like everyone else in his life, he was interested in what Virgil had to say. For the first time in Virgil’s life, someone cared about what Virgil thought. As they grew up, Remy lost more of his filter and spoke his mind. He chased off suitors that tried to get rid of Virgil for being ‘lesser’. He scared away anyone who was after him for his money or status. Virgil respected how he kept his values and would stick by the man to keep him safe. Remy was ignorant to peasant life and would sneak out to the pub to try and rebel against his parents. Virgil was afraid someone would want to take advantage of him or his parents or try to get money from him because of his name so Virgil was there every night to keep him safe. Remy never asked, but he always thanked him at the end of the night. If that’s all Virgil got as payment for it, then it was more than enough for him. Seeing Remy safe and still wanting him around was more than he could ask for.
So how could he let him know that he’d been harboring these feelings? It would ruin their friendship, something Virgil treasured more than anything in the world.
Virgil floated around town for a while after that. His home was nothing too cozy. He spent so much time traveling that it was a small place he never wanted to spend any time at alone. It was old and drafty but sturdy and a perfectly good shelter for anyone. He didn’t own much besides the essentials and a decent suit Remy had convinced him to get tailored just in case. However, he mostly was avoiding going home in case he missed their newest guest storm out of town. 
Though, a short time later, he heard the townsfolk start to happily greet someone in town square. It was enough of a change to pique his interest, though it didn’t sound like someone storming out of town like he had hoped. He made his way closer into the square and found the crowd, standing on the edge and listening in.
“Did you have to travel far?”
“Will you be staying long?”
“You two seem friendly already!”
“It’s nice to see young Remington behaving for once…”
Eventually, someone turned and saw Virgil, smiling and stepping out of his way to allow him to get closer. Soon, others followed and Virgil ducked his head, wrapping his arms around himself under his cloak. He never was a fan of attention, what were these people looking at?
“Oh, Virge! Perfect timing, come here!” Virgil looked through the crowd and barely made out Remy standing with someone else. Remy seemed oblivious to all the tension around them, waving Virgil over excitedly. “I want you to meet Charles!”
“Please, Remington, you may certainly call me Dee.”
“I will when you start calling me Remy, darling. Virgil!”
Making his way through, Virgil finally got a good look at ‘Dee’. He was tall, his hair was natural and wavy and god, why was his jawline so sharp? Even Virgil couldn’t deny he was attractive and his smile seemed genuine and friendly which only made Virgil hesitant to dislike him. Something screamed at Virgil to be on edge and Virgil tried to shove it down. Jealousy would get him nowhere right now.
He held out a hand, wearing a pair of silk gloves, and smiled. “My friends call me Dee and any friend of Remy’s is a friend of mine!”
“Oh, good! Because Virgil is sticking around, no exceptions! He’s my closest friend and my confidant! We’re a packaged deal!”
“Of course,” Dee let go of Virgil’s hand and smiled. “I could never come between your friends. I do hope we get along as well.”
“Especially if he wants to stay, right Virgil?” Remy walked up and placed his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “No one comes between me and my best friend! No matter how cute he is.” Virgil watched Remy look over at Dee and wink, confused by the display in front of him. Was he… flirting? Remy flirts, yes, but usually not with the suitors picked out for him. 
“Oh, Remy, you flatter me so! Such high compliments of someone of your beauty, you must be careful. I may grow an ego at this rate and you have enough for both of us.” Virgil couldn’t help but chuckle, staring back and forth between the two. They seemed like… good friends already. Remy smiled and looked at Dee a bit and Virgil felt his stomach twist. Was… was this real? For the first time, did Remy meet someone who could match him? Someone he was actually interested in? Virgil hadn’t seen him give any of the other suitors the time of day. But this guy… handsome and charming and funny, everything Virgil could dream to be. Of course someone so perfect would finally catch his attention.
‘I’ll respect his choice because he is my best friend.’
It was still too early to say, they had only just met a few hours ago, but Virgil had never seen a suitor get this far before, especially so quickly. 
“W-wow, Remy. You two seem to get along great already.” Virgil smiled and turned to Dee. “Just remember, buddy. I’m the best friend and no matter what happens, that doesn’t change.”
Remy seemed to frown at Virgil’s words, not that his friend had seen. Dee most certainly did, however. “I would never take your place intentionally. However, I do see a bright future ahead of us. Just have to see where it takes us, right Remy?”
“Oh, yes! Absolutely! If you’re in my future then I guess it’s looking pretty good.” Remy smiled and glanced at Virgil again. He was still smiling. Why was he still smiling? “Well! Sorry to leave so suddenly, but we have dinner plans, right Dee?”
“Of course,” Dee held out his arm for Remy to take. “We should make our way back  before it gets too late, my dear.” 
‘It’s still early! You have plenty of time!’ Virgil wanted to shout it for everyone to hear, but he kept his mouth closed. “Well, I hope to see you soon! I’d like to get a bit more acquainted with your new friend if he’s going to be staying.”
‘You’re not supposed to be happy about this! Say something!’ Remy nodded and waved. “Of course, I’ll see you around, Virgil!”
Virgil watched the two make their way back to Dormir manor for a bit before glancing around. He jumped, realizing dozens of eyes were on him, each giving him a look of pity. He shrugged it off and spun around, retreating to his home finally. The day was still early, but he felt exhausted enough to sleep through the night.
---
“That didn’t work at all!” Remy huffed, pacing back and forth. “He was just… all nice and supportive!” Dee sat in a chair with his legs crossed, watching the other each time he walked by. “He was supposed to be mad!”
“Is it really a bad thing he was supportive?”
“Yes!” Remy stopped and stomped his foot. “He has to be jealous! He has to like me!”
“Why?” Dee tilted his head and leaned against the armrest. “Why does it matter that one person in the world doesn’t see how enchanting you truly are?”
Remy waved him off and turned away, a scowl forming on his face. “Because! It just does!” After Dee didn’t give any sort of response, he turned back and saw Dee staring at him in surprise. “What?”
“Nothing, I apologize.” Dee folded his hands in front of him. “We can try again tomorrow.”
“Yeah, but what if that doesn’t work? We’re gonna need a plan if we’re going to get this to work!”
Dee scrunched his nose in distaste. “You want to keep trying?” He frowned a bit before a thought came to mind. “You want me to help you?”
“No one else is going to and you’re almost perfect. Handsome, smart, rich. I’d call you absolutely perfect but I’m standing right here.”
“Yeah,” Dee leaned on his hand and smiled up at Remy. “I’ll agree to that.”
Remy held up his hand and silenced the other. “Save it for when we see Virgil!”
---
Virgil couldn’t believe it. 
This new guy has lasted longer than any other suitor by a long shot. He’s not only still hanging around, but Remy was practically draped all over him. The Dormir’s were thrilled and basically picking out flowers for the wedding. Dee didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon.
“Remy, meeting you has been such a pleasure. You’re far more enchanting in person than I had been told.”
“Oh, Dee, you flatter me so. Keep going.”
Virgil hated all of it.
The worst part? Remy kept inviting Virgil over, wanting him and Dee to get along as much as possible. So he had to watch Remy flirt with the man while Dee stared at Remy with gooey eyes like he was in love and it hurt. Virgil kept smiling and hiding his pain and Remy seemed to be falling for it. Dee, however?
“I know you like him.”
Remy had invited Virgil over for dinner, something he didn’t normally do when suitors were still visiting. He had accepted out of courtesy and had been dreading the night ever since. Even Remy’s parents seemed a bit surprised at how well he was getting along with Dee.
“What?” Virgil responded before Dee’s words sunk in. “I mean, duh. Of course I do. We’re best friends.” Virgil chuckled nervously for a bit before noticing Dee wasn’t buying it. He stopped and looked away, trying not to panic. “What does it matter?”
“It doesn’t, not really.” Virgil looked up at Dee who smirked back. He looked cocky and it was enough for Virgil to throw out everything he felt about the guy and just loathe him. His initial distaste when they had met floated back up to the top once more. “Remy had a chance to pick you and oh, look. He picked me instead. You can like him all you want, I can certainly see why, but that doesn’t change a thing.”
“I know that.” Virgil glared back, not backing down. “My feelings don’t matter, as long as Remy is happy.”
“Oh, sure, of course, but why stick around if you know you’ve lost?”
“Lost?” Shaking his head, the messenger actually felt a bit confident for once. “Lost what? Remy? He’s not some--some prize to win, I get to be his friend. I get to see him happy. We get to spend our lives with one another. Where in any of that have I ‘lost’? He doesn’t return my feelings, so what? He doesn’t have to and I can’t make him. I’m certainly not losing out on my end.” Dee stood stoic as Virgil went off on his tangent. “You know that you can’t get rid of me, so don’t even try. So, fine. Get married. Be the love of his life or whatever. I’ll still be here for him.”
“Oh, you foolish boy.” Dee chuckled and shook his head. “You underestimate me.” Dee leaned in a bit closer. “Good. Makes my job easier.”
Dee walked away to try and find Remy who had left the room a few minutes before. 
Virgil stood back and thought about everything that Dee had said. Sure, he didn’t explicitly say that he was going to drive Virgil away, but shouldn’t he warn Remy? Dee was trying to break the first rule that he put down… but does that mean that if he tried to explain, he’d make Remy pick between him and Dee? He was sure he would be picked but… Did he really want to chance that and find out the true answer?
Virgil had gone back and forth about it all afternoon. As it grew closer to the end of the day, it was almost time for the dinner he had already accepted before the talk with Dee. Virgil spent every moment since then figuring out how to back out of it. That was, until the moment that Remy’s parents had called Dee away for something, leaving the two of them alone.
“Alright, girl, spill it.” Virgil looked to his best friend who was unamused. Remy crossed his arms in front of him and huffed. “What’s with you this afternoon? You’ve been acting super weird.”
“Oh, it’s--”
“No, none of that.” Waving his hand away, Remy walked closer and pointed at Virgil accusingly. “You are not about to lie and tell me it’s nothing. Babe. We’re best friends. I know you better than that.”
Virgil felt his face flush in embarrassment. “It’s… just… something Dee said bothered me, I guess. I’ll get over it.”
“Oh? What did he say?” Virgil remained silent and Remy let out a huff. “Vee! Just tell me, you can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”
“He talked like he was going to get rid of me. Like, not those exact words, but he asked why I hung out with you and no one else. Like he was accusing me of something.”
“Something?” Virgil looked at Remy and felt his stomach drop. Why was he smiling? This was serious! “What do you think he was accusing you of?”
“I dunno… Maybe he felt I was going to chase him away so he wants to do it first?”
“Virgil,” The serious tone in Remy’s voice put Virgil on edge. “Are you… jealous?”
“Of what, Dee? Gosh, no. You can have him!” He shook his head and his face twisted like he had tasted something sour.
Remy nodded and tried to hide his smile. “If not Dee, then… Me?” Virgil froze and Remy felt his heart soar. Yes. Yes! This was it! This is what he had wanted to hear for all these weeks. All of his and Dee’s efforts were finally paying off. “Virgil, do you like me?”
“I’ve gotta go-” Virgil turned to run.
“No, Virge, let’s talk about this! Virgil!!” Remy chased after him but it was no use. Virgil was lithe, agile and much faster than Remy could hope to be. He was out the front door and down the road before Remy had a chance of catching him. “Oh, Vee…”
“What’s with all the commotion?” Dee walked out of the other room, Remy’s mother trailing close behind.
Remy shifted on his feet while trying to think of an answer. “Oh, Virgil was feeling a bit upset! Ran right out the door! I don’t think he’ll be back for dinner.”
“What a shame, I hope he will be alright” he watched his mother wave off the closest person in Remy’s life without a second thought before turning to Dee. “Well, you can check on him later. Dinner is almost ready.”
Dee walked up and smiled, raising a brow. “Everything alright, my dear?”
“Yes!” Remy squealed excitedly. “Dee, our plan worked! He’s been totally super jealous this whole time!”
“Yeah, that much was obvious, you just figure it out yourself?” Dee wrapped an arm around Remy and directed him toward the kitchen. “You two have it bad for each other, I figured that out on my first day.”
Remy tensed and waited until they got to the door of the dining room before taking Dee’s hand and removing his arm from him. “Right, well, thanks for sharing earlier. Now that I’ve heard it, we can finally call this whole thing off.”
Remy strode into the dining room, leaving Dee to watch him as he sat down. Dee scowled and glared for a moment before collecting himself and painting the smile back on his face. 
---
Remy heard a loud bang and shot awake, blinking and trying to make out the shapes of his room. Even with his curtains drawn, he could tell it was still pitch black outside. Usually he was dead to the world but something had put him on edge, his heart racing and short of breath. He adjusted to the dark and glanced around, sitting silently on his bed as he listened for any unusual noises.
Just as he was about to give up and lay back down, he heard creaking outside his bedroom door before it slowly started to open. He reached over to his end table to grab a dagger he had on display. He wasn’t sure if it was actually sharp but he wasn’t willing to take the chance.
He let out a sigh of relief when he was able to make out Dee slipping into his room, fully clothed and ready for… Remy wasn’t exactly sure.
“Dee, what the shit are you doing in my room? I need sleep to stay this beautiful!” Dee slipped quietly over to the bed as Remy placed the dagger back down on the table. “Nearly gave me a heart attack!”
“Wouldn’t want that.” He spoke softly, his deep voice could send shivers down someone’s spine with the way he spoke. “Now, get dressed. We’re leaving.”
Remy sat for a moment before chuckling. “The hell are you talking about? It’s the middle of the night, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes you are. You’re going to write a little letter to your parents about how excited you were after I told you the news and just couldn’t wait so we left as soon as possible.” Dee leaned one hand on the bed, getting closer to Remy as he backed away. “They’ll think we left last night.”
Remy pushed back against his mountain of pillows and started to turn away. “What news? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, have I forgotten to mention?” Dee smiled and crawled onto the bed. “I talked to your mother last night. She said if I had your approval, we were to be wed. Just as Virgil ran away, how perfect.”
Remy pulled his knees to his chest to make a barrier between him and Dee. “Yeah, no. Sorry, hun, not interested. You do not have my approval, remember? I was doing this to make Virgil jealous.” Dee reached out and grabbed Remy’s arm. “Let go of me!”
“Or what? You’ll run to that peasant boy? The same one who ran away from you today?” Remy pulled his arm free and glared at the other intensely. “What do you think will happen? You’ll be whisked away to live with him and everyone will be okay with it? He doesn’t even have to guts to admit he likes you. Hell, you can’t even admit to yourself that you like him, you had to use me to do it!”
“The hell should I listen to whatever you have to say?” Remy’s voice wavered, suddenly realizing his hands were shaking as they gripped his sheets tighter.
Dee smirked and crossed his arms. “Because I now know your biggest weakness now. So,” Dee pushed himself off of the bed and glared back at the other. “Get up. Get dressed. Pack your things, and I won’t have to use every ounce of influence I have to ruin that low life into a shallow grave where you’ll never see him again.”
Remy sat there for a moment as he watched Dee waiting impatiently by his bedside. “No.”
“No?” “I’m not going to allow you to threaten me in my own home so you can get your way!”
Dee stood there a moment before letting out a sigh. “Then we will do this the hard way. Guess my note is going to do.”
“What?”
Dee moved in an instant, launching himself across the bed. Remy held up his hands and pushed him away, but not before Dee reached out with something in his hand. Remy wasn’t sure what it was, but it smelled sweet and was overpowering. That’s all he could make out before everything turned dark.
---
Virgil hardly slept that night. He kept thinking of ways to convince Remy that he was just imagining things again. He had a tendency to get ahead of himself and go overboard with very little context and Virgil knew that, but usually he wasn’t so… accurate. Remy had been ignorant of his feelings for years and yet the slightest bit of hesitation and he was able to guess what was going on?
Virgil knew that he just had to wait for sunrise and head over like he did every day and pretend things were normal. Say he ran away because he didn’t want the Dormir’s to think he was getting in between Remy and Dee. The two had grown close exceptionally fast and Virgil’s feelings finally coming to light would only make Remy’s parents more suspicious of him then he already was.
---
“He what?!”
“Left last night! Poor boy must have been so excited that he couldn’t wait! Should have talked to us first but you know how he can be.” Remy’s mother smiled as she turned to her husband. Virgil glanced behind them and noticed the butler loading up a coach to the side. He made no comment of it when he arrived, hoping it was Dee finally leaving. “We’re on our way to follow them now! Charles had told me he wanted to make the announcement at a social gathering!”
Virgil looked up at her confused. “You mean… like a party?”
She scoffed and waved him off. “Someone of your social status would make that assumption, but it’s much more high class than a party. They’re going to announce their engagement to anyone who is anyone!”
“Oh, right. I guess that’s what he meant, then.” Virgil bit his lip and glanced away as everything pieced together. Charles was right, Virgil did underestimate him a bit and now Remy was gone.
“Who are you talking about?” Mrs. Dormir asked, curious to Virgil’s mumblings.
“Dee, sorry, Charles mentioned something to me last night.”
“He told you about the engagement?!” Virgil looked up to the surprised look on her face and froze. “I know he talked to me about it, but he told you? And you actually gave your approval?”
Virgil felt a fluttering of panic in his chest for a brief moment before he got an idea and smirked. “Yeah, I mean, we got along pretty well and it’s Remy’s decision anyway. It’s kinda why I ran off. Charles asked me to keep it a secret but I’m terrible at keeping secrets. Remy knows me well enough that he could tell something was off so I ran away to keep the secret. I was just a bit surprised that he took off last night, but it makes sense. It’s a very Remy thing to do after all.”
Waiting with baited breath, Virgil hoped that they took the bait and half baked story he came up with on the spot. Mrs. Dormir smiled and turned to her husband with a chuckle. “It is like him to just run on ahead like that, isn’t it? Our little fire crackle!” She turned back to Virgil with a genuine smile on her face. “Would you like to come with us?” Virgil visibly tensed and she waved him off. “Oh, none of that! You’ve been more than welcome in our home and you and Remington are the closest of friends! It would be a shame you miss his engagement! He’d want you to be there and I know you would want to be there for him.”
Mr. Dormir nodded in agreement. “We will be leaving shortly. Do you have a nice suit of some sort? Can’t have you going to the masquerade like that!”
Virgil nodded and pointed over his shoulder to the pathway. “Yeah, Remy told me I should have a nice outfit just in case so I got one tailored at that shop when I was doing a delivery for you once.” Both of them seemed a bit surprised at that. “It was a bit pricey but I don’t really spend the money I make on anything other than the essentials and you never know when you’ll need to dress up, right? Looks like he was right and I’ll get some use out of it after all.”
“Good, we can pick up masks for all of us once we arrive! Surely after word gets out, there will be plenty for sale!”
Virgil let them talk before they walked off, excited about the plans for the future. Finding out that Remy left in the middle of the night? He had underestimated Dee but he had also been underestimated. He was going to show up and find Remy and discover the truth and get some answers. 
Virgil spun and ran off to his home to pack for the trip. Leaving in the middle of the night? Holding a huge party to announce the marriage? That all sounded like Remy, that was undeniable, but something kept him on edge. Something wasn’t sitting right and had the warning bells ringing in his head like crazy. 
“Virgil, do you like me?”
Why did Remy seem so… happy? He was smiling! Virgil had thought he was plotting something, but what if--?
What if, for once in his life, he didn’t just shrug it off and believed it to be true? Remy always made him welcome, always defended him. Always thanked him after a crazy night at the bar and always said he would never leave him behind. So maybe it was his heart being hopeful, but Virgil decided to take a page from Remy’s book. 
He was going to face him and find out before he lost his chance forever, even if nothing has changed. Even if Virgil was wrong, he couldn’t let this just go by. Not knowing would eat away at him for the rest of his life.
---
“Don’t look so glum! Guests will be arriving shortly!” Dee walked over and placed his hands on Remy’s shoulders. “And please put your mask on. Don’t want everyone falling at your feet before I can even make the announcement! Your beauty knows no bounds, my darling.”
“You mean hide me away in plain sight so I can’t try to escape?”
Dee scoffed and rubbed Remy’s arms, which he decided he had deeply hated at that moment. It was an action meant to comfort someone but instead it simply made his skin crawl. “Not like it would matter, my dear. You’re in my home now, not yours, and I’ve got friends who can keep it that way. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, don’t want your parents having an accident on their way home, now do we?” Dee patted Remy on the back and walked out, a grin across his face. 
Remy waited for the door to close before he turned to the dresser where his masquerade mask sat. Of course he would pull something so elaborate that also worked so well in his favor. Hide him away in a sea of people until the announcement was made. Then anyone who was anyone wouldn’t let him break the engagement due to social bullshit. He was trying to think of a way out of this whole situation and this stupid party was his best bet, not to mention also his last chance. However, his parents wouldn’t understand he was being used before he would get caught trying to escape. If he just had someone to help him out, if only he had someone who would listen, if only Virgil were here.
Remy picked up the silver and golden trimmed mask and looked back to the mirror, holding it up to his face. He frowned, upset at how good he looked. I mean, of course he looked good, but he didn’t want to look good for Charles. He didn’t want to wear anything that man and picked out for him. Sure, the guy was charming enough, but the whole ‘kidnapping and blackmailing you to marry me’ thing kind of killed any chance he would have had, not that he had any to begin with.
Come to think of it, it was Dee’s plan to flirt together to make Virgil jealous. As soon as Remy had mentioned Virgil was probably hopelessly in love with him, Dee had immediately offered the idea! Was it to get him to flirt back? Was that just a coincidence or… Had he really planned this from the beginning?
“That son of a bitch.”
That had him plummeting down a mental spiral as he thought back to their previous conversations. Dee’s encouraging words to take it a step further to try and get a reaction from Virgil. They kept up the charade in front of his parents so it didn't seem suspicious. Dee did not want to plan the break up until Virgil finally caved… everything that made sense in the moment seemed to only lead up to what inevitably happened.
Kidnapping and blackmail? That's what Dee's plan was if he didn't go along willingly? Threatening him and his family so he would agree to marry him? Remy needed to come up with a plan to get away from this psycho and fast, he only had a few hours left.
---
Virgil scoffed at the price of the cheap black and purple mask he had picked up and handed over the gold. It was necessary to get in and not immediately be noticed by Charles Darvin. Mr. Dormir helped style Virgil’s hair, slicking it back instead of having it fall in his face like it normally did. Virgil stood up and squared his shoulders instead of his slight hunch. He looked completely different than he normally would and even Mrs. Dormir made a noise of approval. He knew he’d at least blend in well enough that he may sneak by Dee but finding Remy would prove difficult.
The Dormir’s led the way into the manor, greeting the butlers at the door as they made their way in. The entryway was larger than Virgil had ever seen and it led to the front room which was packed full of people in masks. Virgil felt his heart plummet, unsure of how he would find Remy in this mess.
After a while, he had excused himself from the Dormir’s to mingle with the guests and try to get away from some of the noise to assess the room. Unfortunately, every corner had someone chatting away and laughter all around, celebrating whatever news Charles had planned to announce. As the night dragged on, Virgil felt no closer to finding Remy. Was he even here? Would he find him too late?
He was in a full blown silent panic when someone reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him to the side. Virgil turned and looked up at the man in the silvery mask as he started to collect himself.
“Virgil?”
“What?” Virgil’s eyes lit up as he started to collect himself. He looked exhausted and not nearly as confident as he usually did but this was, without a doubt, his best friend.
“Sorry,” Remy pulled his hand back as he apologized. “You just almost looked like someone I knew. The masks have been throwing me off all night, I do apologize.”
“Remy,” Virgil reached out and smiled, gently placing his hands on Remy’s shoulders. He watched Remy tense up and rubbed his arms to try to relax him. It worked and Remy smiled before launching himself at the other. “Woah, okay! Hello to you, too!”
“Oh goodness, Virgil! It’s really you! I thought I recognized that suit, you look so good, babe!” Virgil laughed and Remy pulled back. “Oh, it’s the absolute worst! Charles planned this whole thing from the beginning and he’s threatening my parents into getting me to agree to this engagement and it’s the worst!”
Virgil frowned and grit his teeth as he tried to contain his anger. “I knew something felt off about this whole thing.”
“Girl, you know I’d have taken you with me if I was doing anything fun, you always have my back.” Remy sounded genuinely sincere as he spoke, not an ounce of his usual sass in his tone. “I don’t know how to get out of this one.”
“Do you trust me?” Virgil spoke low enough that Remy barely was able to hear. He nodded without hesitation and Virgil smiled. “Keep him distracted long enough before he makes the announcement. I have a plan, okay? Just play along.”
Virgil then wrinkled his nose in disgust and took a step back, dusting himself off. Remy looked confused before an arm fell over his shoulders. He looked over to see a mask that mimicked his own with gold and black, piercing eyes glancing down at him. “Everything alright, my dear?” The voice asked and Remy tensed, recognizing Dee’s voice anywhere. 
“Is he with you?” Virgil spoke in a deeper tone to hide his own. “Seemed to think I was someone else. Does he not understand what a masquerade is?” Virgil let out a ‘hmph!’ and stormed off, fixing his vest and not looking back at all. His heart was pounding, hoping Dee wouldn’t pick up on the fact that it was him in the least. Even Remy wasn’t sure it was him at first which was a good sign. Once he was far enough away, he glared over to where they were before finding them missing. He ran a hand over his hair, reflexively wanting to push it out of his face like he normally would, and walked away.
---
“And whom did you think that could have been, my dear?”
Remy shoved the arm off his shoulder and spun around, staring Dee down. “I don’t care if you succeed, I will make you regret ever messing with me until the day you die, is that understood?”
Dee chuckled and shook his head. “You’ll come to love it here as soon as you get out of your head that your messenger boy is not coming for you. However, if it makes you feel better, I’d be more than happy to hire him myself. I’m sure he could help me keep tabs on your parents.”
Remy felt his face burning with anger. “So you can keep a tab on him as well?”
“There is nothing I wouldn’t do to make you safe and happy here, so yes. Now,” Dee held out his hand with a smile. “Let us give our special announcement, shall we?”
Remy glared at the hand and crossed his arms, refusing the offer. Dee chuckled and shook his head as if enjoying the little rebellion. He reached out and cupped Remy’s face with his hand, gently brushing his cheek with his thumb. Remy smacked it away immediately, leaving Dee open to grab it in return. Refusing to let go, he pulled Remy along toward the staircase where they could get to higher ground and make their announcement.
As they broke away from the crowd and climbed the steps, Dee turned and smiled. “Remember, your parents will be watching and I have made sure they won’t leave without my say. Don’t you want them to make it back safely?”
“Go choke on a turkey leg.”
Dee smiled and turned on the stairs, facing the crowd. He waited for Remy to turn to the crowd and look back at him reluctantly. “Well? Can’t make the announcement without you.”
“Right now? Are you sure you don’t want to wait?”
“Why? Nothing will change between now and later. Don’t you want to celebrate?” Dee smiled and held out his hand once more. Remy ignored it and took the last final steps to be level with him, pushing the hand away. “A little better, you’re already learning. Don’t forget, we still have to sell it.”
Remy huffed and turned away, searching the crowd as best he could.
“Could I get everyone’s attention?” The roar of chatter quieted down as everyone turned toward the stairs. “Thank you. My name is Charles D. Darvin and I welcome you all to Darvin Manor. As you all may know, I have returned from a trip a few towns over to meet the lovely Remington Dormir.” Remy took the opportunity to remove his mask, hating how much it was made to reflect Dee’s. “Since my parents passed, I’ve been hoping to meet someone to help me take over the family business.”
Which was contradictory to what he had told Remy when they had met. He had said he wasn’t looking to be married anytime soon. Now he’s finding out it was the opposite and he went to Remy with that specifically in mind, just like he had thought.
“When we had met,” Remy spoke up, cutting off Dee. “Charles assured me we didn’t have to simply be married.”
“We had clicked right away, however, and things changed.” Dee challenged back. “As the weeks grew on, there was one thing that we both became aware of. We were in love.”
The crowd gasped and Remy felt his heart skip a beat. “Dee was in love with me, and I-”
A man pushed through the crowd and approached the stairs. “Was in love with me.”
Everyone in the room watched as Dee turned red, glaring at the figure as he advanced up the stairs. He slowly took off his purple mask, a few strands of his hair falling out of place and into his face. “Virgil,” Remy smiled, reaching out for him. Dee wrapped his arm around his shoulders and forcefully pulled him in. 
“Remy, we talked about this,” he hissed under his breath.
“Yes, we did.” Remy looked at him and smiled. “When you came to me, I told you my best friend was in love with me, something you admitted you noticed when you met him immediately. Together, we decided to flirt to make him jealous and admit his feelings.”
“What you both forgot,” Virgil approached slowly, one step at a time. “Was that I was willing to do anything for Remington’s happiness, even if that meant stepping aside. I am a messenger, not one fit to be with someone as high class as a Dormir. Until that final night, when you approached me about your plan.” Virgil turned around to face the crowd. “A gathering to allow me to prove to the Dormir’s and anyone else who had any objections see how far I was willing to go for Remy to prove my love.”
Remy shoved Dee off and took a step down, reaching back out for Virgil. “Dee explained it to me and we came up with a plan and now here we are.” He heard Dee make a noise of discontent behind him, but his eyes never left Virgil’s. “He came after me and I happily accept his affections, regardless of what anyone has to say.”
“Remington--!” Dee bit out before turning back to the crowd. “Surely, someone here would have objections to you being with a peasant when you could be with me?”
Virgil took the final step, meeting up with Remy, and wrapped his arms around him carefully. Remy had realized that it wasn’t the actions that made his skin crawl earlier. When Virgil had rubbed his arms to soothe him, it did. As Virgil held him in his arms, he felt at ease. His heart fluttered as it had with Dee, but not in panic. This whole time, he wanted to prove Virgil was in love with him. How ironic that it was Remy who was in love but completely unaware of his own feelings. 
“Remington Dormir!” Remy and Virgil looked to the figure at the bottom of the stairs and saw Mrs. Dormir looking furious. “You planned this whole thing to try to convince us to let you be with Virgil?!” She let out a sigh as Mr. Dormir walked up behind her, placing a hand on her back. “You stupid boy!”
“Mother, just listen!” Remy called out. “Virgil is-”
“That is enough, Remington, you listen to me!” She yelled back. “Did you think we were stupid? That you had to go and make a big show of all of this and make us look like fools?” Remy leaned back as if her words physically hurt. “We know you like Virgil, sweetie. Anyone who has seen you two together can figure that out. We were just waiting for you to do something about it!”
“What?” Virgil and Remy spoke at the same time before looking at one another in confusion.
“Son, why do you think we hired Virgil in the first place?” Mr. Dormir asked. “We knew Virgil wouldn’t speak up himself, it’s just his nature. We knew out of the two of you, it would be you who would say something against anyone who would have objected. Who cares if he’s a messenger boy if you two love each other? We were so worried when you ran off, we thought you were acting a bit brash and acting out because of a little misunderstanding you two may have had. We came here to talk to you and set it straight, but it was a masquerade and we couldn’t find you.”
“We would never have let you marry Charles, sweetie. We knew it wasn’t real.”
“What?!” Dee called out, marching down the stairs. “How dare you tell me what I can and can not do!”
“That is enough out of you, young man!” Mrs. Dormir shouted. “That is my son you’re playing with. I don’t care how rich the Darvin name makes you, you are outnumbered. We have respect for others!”
The crowd began to murmur as they glanced Dee’s way, frowns on their faces. “Wait, hold on just a moment!”
“It’s okay, mother.” Remy descended the steps, Virgil following close behind. “Virgil and I forgive him, he tried and failed. No need to tear him down too much.”
“I’m okay with it.” Remy elbowed Virgil in the side and sent him a glare. “Ow! Okay, no tearing him down. I mean, he is still grieving, isn’t he?”
“Anyone else have an issue with Virgil and I?” Remy challenged the audience, staring down the many faces in the crowd. The room remained silent as he turned, sending glances in every direction. “No one? Good. Now if you shall excuse me, we have things to discuss.” Remy reached behind him and grabbed Virgil’s hand, pulling him out of Darvin Manor. They marched down the pathway and into the town. Night had fallen and it was quieter by far, the crickets unable to be as loud as the chatter from earlier. 
“Remy, are you okay?”
“You are an idiot!” Remy spun around, tears in his eyes. “You were really just watching as my parents threw suitors at me and you weren’t going to say anything?!”
Virgil hunched over, more of his hair naturally falling back into place. “I just wanted you to be happy with whomever you choose.”
“You mean my parents, whomever my parents choose.”
Virgil stood up and scrunched his nose. “No! You didn’t seem to return my feelings and I wasn’t going to force you to!”
Remy blinked and a tear ran down his face. He cursed under his breath and wiped it away, angry it had even fallen in the first place. “My goodness, we are a pair of idiots!”
“I’ll agree to that.” Virgil stepped closer, grabbing Remy’s wrist as he rubbed away at his eyes. “You really return my-”
“Virgil, I swear if you finish that sentence, I will hit you. Hard.” He looked up at Virgil, squinting his eyes. “Got it, babe?”
“Got it, babe.” Remy blinked and flushed before he turned and hid his face. “Oh, what’s this? Can’t take your own nicknames when they’re thrown back at you?”
“Shut up!”
“Anything for you, babe.” Remy whined as Virgil reached out and pulled him close. “Anything.”
---
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If your name is in bold, I am removing you from the taglist. I am unable to tag you because of your settings/you changed your name and haven’t told me. Please keep this in mind!!
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