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luxwritesfanfic · 4 years ago

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400 LUX

Sherlock wants to cut things off but the reader thinks he should really think it over. Or, the one where Sherlock isn’t one for saying “I love you”, but he has always offered you a sword. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You could hear the water running in the bathroom as you slipped down the hall to make coffee, your phone in one hand pressed against your ear as Mary went on and on about all the things that you two needed to do today and the other hand held your shear kit that you barely used. It was a few days before the wedding and things were in full swing for you as Mary’s bridesmaid and Sherlock as the best man. Mary, God bless her, was having a breakdown every other day and it was all you could do to not to set her off by picking the red velvet with buttercream over the vanilla cupcakes.

“— and we need to go by the florist today, too, and I probably should stop by and speak to the DJ... and John, he’s not worried about any of it! He’s asking for tea and biscuits as if I’m not already balancing the most important day of our lives!” Mary was talking at a mile a minute and as she continued the never ending list of tasks she had set for the two of you, you began situating all of your supplies to cut Sherlock’s hair. He had insisted you do it before the wedding, and not even your lack of experience was enough to convince him to just go to the shop with John. Sherlock’s hair was something he took very seriously so you were unsure as to why he’d even ask you to do this.

Speaking of the devil, you rounded the hallway and started for the bathroom.

“One second Mare.” She didn’t miss a beat and continued right on talking once you muted her, and you wondered if this is how John felt talking to Sherlock. Knocking on the door before walking in, you fought through the steam to find a comb on the counter.

“If we’re going to be in here at the same time, you might as well join me.” Sherlock’s head popped out from behind the shower curtain, his hair and face sudsed up and glistening from the water. The longer you realized you had actually been thinking about taking him up on his offer, the quicker you knew that you had to get back to your task at hand and get out of the line of fire. You pulled open some of the drawers and rummaged through them.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d love that.” Hoping that the steam was thick enough to hide your growing blush, you turned back to the vanity and opened the mirror cabinet. “I need you to hurry up. Mary’s having a-“

“You would, too.” You could hear the smirk in his voice and that was enough to make you roll your eyes. Luckily for you, the mirror door was hiding your face from his prying eyes. Smug and darling as always, your man was. You snuck a peek at him and realized he’d moved back from the curtain and resumed washing his hair.

“Seriously, Mary will probably have a heart attack if I don’t leave within the hour. If you love me, five minutes.” You shut the cabinet and slipped out of the room to finally return to your phone call.

“Sorry M, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Sherlock is being Sherlock.”

“Now you’re really starting to sound like John. How’s his suit fit? Does he need any adjustments? That reminds me, I should call the tailor! Be a doll and bring something to eat on the way? Love you!” With that she hung up, leaving you in the dust trying to comprehend if she actually was speaking words or Simlish.

—

“Four minutes, fourteen seconds.”

You turned back to him while you gestured for him to sit down so you could wrap the towel around his shoulders. His hair was still pretty wet so you wouldn’t have to spray it much.

“What are you talking about?”

Sherlock only smiled to himself in response, and you figured he’d just moved on from that conversation already. Combing out small sections of his hair and clipping the rest up, you asked again.

“Are you sure you want me to do this? I really don’t mind going to your usual stylist with you. I don’t want to mess you up for the wedding.”

“Y/N, I told you already, if I’ve asked you to do it it’s because I want for you to do it. It’s only just a trim. Come on with it.

So you began at that, snipping away little by little. You had cut John’s hair for him a few times right before a date but his was much easier than Sherlock’s and it grew like a weed so even if you did mess up, his date could hardly tell. You told Sherlock all about your plans with Mary for the day and he seemed to be listening intently but you could tell his mind was wandering. You knew him better than you knew yourself.

Moving to stand in between his legs to trim his face framing pieces, you asked him about his plans for the day.

“Hm,” he started, resting his fingers tips lightly on your hips in front of him, tapping away as he thought out his answer. “Mycroft insists he has words for me, despite my telling him to keep them to himself, so I suppose I’ll be seeing him at some point. John is coming here to talk wedding...” which you were almost certain really meant a case, “and I want to tell Mrs. Hudson you’ve decided to give up your flat entirely to live here.”

You had just finished trimming his hair when he had said that and luckily so because you were sure you would have chopped off a lot more than needed being caught by surprise like that. Running your fingers through his hair to be sure you didn’t miss any sections, you contemplated what exactly was happening between you. You had never really brought up completely moving in even though it was true that you practically already did. You hadn’t slept in your own bed in months because you always chose the opportunity to sleep with Sherlock. Moving in seemed like a dream but you always had it in the back of your mind that one day Sherlock would have a change of heart and change his mind on whatever the two of you were, and you didn’t want to be without if that happened.

When he realized you still hadn’t replied to his request, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at you. “Is there really that much to think about? John said you’d say yes if I made it clear I was the one asking you to. Had I not done that?”

You couldn’t help but smile, because seriously, what could you have possibly done to deserve the opportunity to love someone as... well, Sherlock, as Sherlock. He was everything everyone said he was, but he had shown you willingly that he was also so much more. You’d choose the life with him, whether it was one of a house and kids and a white picket fence or if it was one that consisted of running around London in the rain because Sherlock swore he saw something suspicious and the only viable option was to run after it. You would choose him. Every single time.

Even with all of your declarations of love, you two had never said talked about the fact that you were definitely exclusively dating which often hindered a conversation of the future. You had told him you loved him more times than you could count but he had never said it back and you were okay with that. He didn’t have to reciprocate it for it to be true. But, it did leave room for doubt that this might not always be what Sherlock chooses.

You thought of all the ways you could bring it it up and realized that straightforwardly was the only way to go. You brought your hands from his hair to hold his face and rubbed your thumbs in slow circles and he relaxed on the spot. He was putty in your hands, as much as he hated to admit it.

“I just don’t want you to feel stuck with me. It’s a big step. And if it ends up making you miserable, I just- I don’t know. I don’t want to be the one to make you miserable.” Your voice was soft as you spoke and you realized that with Sherlock’s bangs being much shorter now, you got to see more of his pretty face. Although, currently, it was contorted as he worked through trying to comprehend what you were saying to him. Blinking away at you for what seemed like forever, Sherlock cleared his throat and took your hands from his face and into his own instead.

“I’m... not sure I understand. I don’t mean to be rude at your expense but if I wanted to leave you, I would. I could rather easily. Just as easily as you could leave me. But you won’t. And I won’t... I’ve tried to show you in all the ways I know how. So would it not make sense for us to live together?”

It slowly started making sense for you and you could slap yourself for being so blind. Sherlock had let you take the lead in a lot of aspects in his life recently that you couldn’t explain what for. He urged you to pick out the next case he would work, allowed you to pick out his new microscope (Y/N, they’re the same color. Pick one. I don’t know Sherlock! I feel like this one is cool grey and this one is light grey, it makes a difference!), and now you were cutting his hair, the most important part of his appearance from his point of view. He trusted you to make the right choice every time and there really was no right choice, your choice was the right choice.

You were pulled from your thoughts as you phone began to ring with Mary’s picture posted on the screen.

“Shit, I’m so late! She’s seriously going to kill me.” Your gaze drifted from your phone to Sherlock who surprisingly patiently awaiting your answer. “Tell Mrs. Hudson as soon as John gets back from holiday that you two will start moving my stuff over. And make a little space for me in your closet, okay? I need more than just a few drawers.”

Sherlock smiled at you like you like he did when you called him brilliant and that was your highest honor to date.

You expected the usual slick remark but he simply said, “You’ll have what you want. Mary will be calling again in about 30 seconds. You should really be hailing a taxi right about now.”

And there he was, the Sherlock you wouldn’t change for the world. You wished you had time to tell him to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine but alas, duty calls. You kiss him like you mean it- because you do, and rush off to your friend’s rescue but not without stopping in the doorway.

“I love you, Sherlock Holmes. But even more importantly than that, I trust you. I’ve had the time of my life fighting dragons with you and I’d happily spend the rest of my life doing it if you’d let me. It’s nice to know that you will. I just thought you’d like to know.”

Just like that, you turn his world upside down as you rush down the stairs, leaving him speechless. He thought his story was one that would be written about him and him alone and as sure as he used to be in that, he’d come to the realization that he was just as sure that two was better than one.

“And I, you.”

#bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock imagine #sherlock has feelings #sherlock headcanon #mary watson #sherlock fandom #sherlock fanfic #luxwrites

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years ago

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The Arrangement Ch 17

Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi

Chapter Summary: Part one of the photoshoot

Previous Chapter here

The work week proceeded as normal. Well, what had become normal. Delivering coffee and reminding Yoongi to eat, answering emails, trying to figure out which meetings Yoongi actually needed to go to and which ones were a waste of time. Of course you always went to the meetings, and holy shit you couldn’t believe the topics couldn’t have been discussed via email. You were looking forward to this particular day because you got to go visit Hoseok in the style department and Jimin had decided he was tagging along “for funsies.”

Yoongi was supposed to go and get measured and try on clothes for his photoshoot. When you reminded him that morning he laughed at you, “Uh no. Hoseok knows what size I wear. He can figure it out. Go look at the clothes and I might try some of them on tonight.”

You and Jimin met up for lunch and then headed up to the styling department.

“I’m excited. I’ve never been to a photoshoot before.” You said bouncing up and down in the elevator.

“Yeah, they’re pretty boring actually. Like if it’s with some of the hotter models it’s a little fun for the eye candy, but then you feel bad for them because they have to sit for so long making awkward faces. They are constantly getting their make-up and hair touched up. Touch base with craft services to make sure there’s plenty of water. The lights are bright.”

You took out your phone, “Oh thanks. I wouldn’t have even thought about that. Any other tips?”

“It’s Yoongi. It won’t take as long as it does with the other people. He’ll show up, do it, and leave. JK and Tae, especially Tae, want to chat with everyone on set and if they are together it takes foreeeeevvvveeeeeerrrrr.”

“Huh, ok. Thanks.” The two of you arrived at JHOPE Fashion and walked through the rainbow vomit doors.

Hoseok was wearing glasses with yellow lenses today, which made his dramatic facial expressions stand out even more. He immediately rolled his eyes. He pointed to you. “You are not Yoongi.” He pointed to Jimin. “And you are not Yoongi.” He put his hands on his hips. “So why are the two of you here?”

“I’m sure you can guess why.” You responded dryly.

“Ugh. That ungrateful man. I had lovingly hand stitched these pieces. For him. These patches...” Hoseok pressed his fingers together as though he was praying. “Fine. Fine. You. Y/N. Come. You. Jimin. Wait right there.”

Jimin’s eyes went wide. “Me? Why do I have to wait here?”

Hoseok turned from where he had started to walk towards the back. “You will thank me in a minute. A certain someone is coming to get his fitting in a few minutes.” He raised an eyebrow and then turned around, his heels clacking against the red tile floor.

Jimin started to blush profusely and before you could ask, Hobi interrupted, “Come new girl. We have work to do especially if that boss of yours refuses to come here and experience these magnificent beauties for himself.”

You followed him through the large door, which led to lime green hallways and then to a quiet, more muted workspace. The walls were lined with fabric bolsters, the middle tables with ribbon, thread, patches, paint. Paint?

Hoseok sat down. “From what I understand, this album will have an acoustic feel to it versus his previous albums. For that reason I have chosen these natural materials such as cotton, linen, and denim.” He spread out several pieces onto the large table. “I have also opted for a more neutral pallet, as much as it hurts my soul. I have chosen colors found in nature. I have chosen brightly colored accessories such as these silks to stand in contrast with the stiff fabric and more neutral colors he will be wearing. Additionally, I avoided black. We’ll see if he notices.”

You watched as he draped the red and purple silks over the top of the clothes. For whatever reason, you found it mesmerizing watching the fabric juxtapositioned in such a way. “It’s so cool to hear you tell a story just using clothes.” You said, somewhat enchanted.

Hoseok flicked his eyes up to you, “Thank you. That is what I try to do with my collections. Everyone’s outfit tells a story, even if they don’t mean for it to. May I?” He asked, stepping back and gesturing at you.

“Oh man. You know I don’t dresses fancy--”

“Shhhh you don’t tell me.” He looked at your outfit. You had opted for an Aline skirt and blouse with a casual blazer. “You had meetings this morning, that’s obvious by the jacket. You usually dress cuter. Which means you are either sick or not feeling great. You look fine. So I’m guessing...you are on your period. Sorry, this just comes out, I can’t stop it,” he paused for a moment as your jaw dropped open slightly. He stepped closer, inspecting the shoulders of your jacket. “The blazer is at least ten years old but you shouldn’t have had a blazer ten years ago unless it was for your school uniform and that isn’t a school jacket. Which means it probably belonged to an older sister or aunt. You are very responsible and well organized otherwise you wouldn't be Yoongi’s assistant. Therefore you are most likely the oldest or only child so that is your aunt’s jacket. Your blouse is nice. You actually like it, you’ve worn it twice in the week you’ve been working here. You bought it at a thrift store. You don’t spend a lot of money on yourself, but you are very confident. Therefore, it’s not that you don’t think you deserve nice things, it’s just that you can’t afford them so you likely grew up poor and it has continued into your adulthood.”

“Holy shit. You should be a detective.” You said to him.

“The shoes, I gave you last week. They don’t have a story yet, other than a very good -looking man in a suit helped you out because Jimin said you were a nice girl. You wear zero accessories which shows a lack of both funds and sentimentality. Most people have at least one piece of jewelry that means something to them, but if you have one, you don’t wear it.” He smiled at you, his white teeth gleaming. “ Now, how much am I right about?” He crossed his hands in front of his chest.

You clapped your hands as though you were in an audience. “All of it. Although I am still weirded out that you know I’m on my period. Next time I’m going to wear something skin tight to throw you off.” You joked.

“Well,” he started, “At least now that you work here you don’t have to worry as much right?”

Given the shitshow you went through this weekend you weren’t sure about that, but you shrugged, “It definitely pays better. And money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure helps make some things less hard.” You gestured to the pile of fabric on the table, “So...what do I do? Take these clothes with me for Yoongi to try on or will they be at the photoshoot tomorrow? Do I need to bring them to the photoshoot?”

Hoseok sighed dramatically, “I could dress Yoongi drunk, in my sleep. He can just show up tomorrow and I will dress him then. My staff will make sure the clothes and accessories are at the photoshoot. Here,” He walked over to one of the garment racks. “More clothes for you. I know you have a big closet. And if you run out of space, just take Yoongi’s, he only wears like three things despite my best efforts.”

You laughed, “Yeah, you’re not kidding. Ok thanks,” You took the clothing. “I appreciate it.”

“It’s no trouble. Feel free to see yourself out, I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh and please make sure the catering has strawberries.”

“Strawberries? Got it.” You were learning so much today.

You exited the backroom and saw Jimin over near one of the pedestals. He was chatting with JK who was getting fitted with a corset. What an itty bitty waist, you admired. The two of them seemed to be having a good time and you had a new list of things to do so you waved at Jimin and headed to 1802 to drop off your new clothes. You had forgotten Hoseok knew you lived with Yoongi. The week had flown by.

You sent a text message to Jiwoo asking if you could stop by her desk and ask her a few questions to make sure everything was set up for tomorrow and then stopped by the apartment.

You conferred with her and learned how to navigate catering requests via the company website; apparently it wasn’t available on the app, good to know. you felt much better about the shoot tomorrow but still nervous and excited.

You knocked on the door to Genius Lab. No answer. Never any answer. You typed the code in and saw Yoongi wearing his headphones, lost in his own world. He had told you to just wait on the sofa when this was the case and that he would eventually notice you. Normally the smell of coffee was what alerted him to your presence, but you had come empty handed today. You sat down on the couch and took out your phone.

YN: I don’t mean to alarm you. But there’s something behind you.

You saw his phone light up. He ignored it for a minute, presumably to finish listening to a song, and then picked it up. You heard him laugh and take off his headphones. “You are the worst.” He spun around.

“So mean. Hey. Tomorrow is my first photoshoot. I checked on the outfits for you. By the way, Hoseok is like Sherlock Holmes with clothing. I learned I’m supposed to contact catering, I have hair and make-up requests in. Do I need to do anything else?”

Yoongi thought for a minute. He never really participated in that side of the photoshoot, now that he reflected on it. He walked his way through a day on set. “No. The changing rooms and photography are handled by other departments. Check with Jiwoo or Jimin, they’ve both set up a shoot before.”

“I did. I’m getting ready to send in the last food request. Any requests?”

“Mandarins. I don’t like to eat a lot on set because I don’t want stuff getting stuck in my teeth.”

“That makes sense. Ok. I’ll let you get back to it then.” You got up and stretched.

“Tomorrow will go fine. If you forgot anything, it will be somewhere in this building.” He reassured you.

“That makes me feel a lot better.” You said honestly. “Alright, I’ll see you around.”

“Later.”

--------------------

The next day arrived with Yoongi heading off to the hair and make-up department and you heading to the 11th floor to see what the photo set up looked like. You exited the elevator. Man your hands were sweaty, you followed the sounds of voices and made your way to the shooting location. The lighting crew was checking their overheads, a stand-in was posing on the various props they had set out. It looked as though there were three separate “areas” for shooting photos. One area had a large white couch, complete with coffee table, rubber plant, magazines. The whole set up designed to look like a living room. A second space was a blue sheet with a white background. The third space was a kitchen, complete with an island, stovetop, and refrigerator. Holy moly this space was huge. You marveled at it.

“Hello, can I help you?” An older man walked over.

“Oh hi, I’m YLN. Yoongi’s assistant. I was stopping by to check the set up. It looks incredible.”

“Thank you. Yes. Here, let me walk you through it.”

You received a tour of the set and also an overview of the order of shooting. You also found out that next week, weather permitting, there would be a second shooting at the park across the street. You got catering checked in, or at least pointed to the table and felt like you did a thing. The same happened when the clothing team showed up. You pointed to dressing rooms and the vanity where the accessories trunk should go. You were thankful no one had asked you any questions so far. This was a steep learning curve. You had hoped someone you knew might be here today to help ease your nerves, but so far, it was all new faces.

Finally, you saw one familiar face. Alice walked in, carrying a small case with her. You waved.

“Hey! It’s nice to see you again.” She said. “I had no idea you were Yoongi’s assistant until today.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I didn’t mention that. I was so overwhelmed that first day,” you smiled.

“No worries. He was just telling me and Bongcha that he had an assistant now. He’s almost done. His make-up is setting. I’m on hair today which isn’t my strong suit, but it’s not like he’s needing a fancy up-do or anything and it’s good for me to practice.”

“Ok great. This is my first time at a photoshoot, so if there’s something I’m supposed to be doing but I’m not, can you let me know?” You confided in her.

“Absolutely. It looks like most of the stuff is set up how it usually is. Just remember,” she got closer to you and spoke quieter, “You are Yoongi’s assistant. Some of these people, especially these older guys will try to get you to do stuff like get their coffee, grab them snacks. That is not your job. It’s not by job. If they have an assistant, it’s their job.”

“I knew I liked you when we first met,” you smiled at her. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Anytime Unnie.”

She walked over and took out her hair tools and placed them on the table reserved for hair and make-up. A few minutes later you saw Yoongi walk in wearing a black shirt and grey sweats. His face looked even more beautiful than normal. Next to him was a petite girl with long black hair pulled up into a ponytail, dragging a make-up train behind her. Yoongi looked around for a second, and then locked eyes with you. You saw the tiniest smile threaten to come out as he walked over.

“Hey. Everything here looks good.” He gestured to the room.

“Thanks. I didn’t do most of it, I just pointed and people seemed to know what to do already. Your face looks good.”

Yoongi chuckled, “You can thank Bongcha for that. Bongcha, this is YN.”

Bongcha stuck out her hand, “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nice to meet you as well. You do good work. I give his face a 10/10. Highly recommend.”

“Well, it’s easy when you have such a great model to start with,” She smiled while looking up at Yoongi.

Yoongi had started to blush between the pair of compliments. “Is Hoseok here yet?”

“No not yet.” You took out your phone to see if you had any messages from Hoseok. Nope. You looked back up, “Bongcha, I’m sure you already know, but the make-up table is over there. Alice is setting up right now.”

“Great, thanks!” She headed over, her shiny hair swishing behind her.

Speak of the devil in blue himself, Hoseok strutted in at that exact moment wearing an electric blue suit. His crisp white shirt underneath popped beneath the jacket, and his pocket square had little sunshines on it.

“Wow. You look like the sky.” You said before you could help it.

“Thank you. Indeed. It was my inspiration today. It’s a crime to be indoors beneath these artificial lights on such a beautiful day. Oh well. It can’t be helped.” He laid eyes on Yoongi, like a predator gazing on its prey, “Yoongi. Baby. Come.”

Yoongi scrunched his face. “Don’t call me baby. If you miss the sunlight so much, leave. I know how to dress myself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don't know which pieces go together.” Hoseok grabbed Yoongi by the shoulders and started leading him over to the clothing section, leaving you to laugh at the pair of them. You went over to the table you had set up for yourself between make-up and the food. You had printed off several lists that morning to help you stay focused. You checked off several action items. Satisfied, you sat your clipboard down and looked around. It was a well-oiled machine for sure. You walked over to the hair and make-up table. “Hey ladies.”

“Hey! Have you two met yet?” Alice asked, referring to Bongcha.

“Yep, we just did.” Bongcha confirmed, putting on her make-up apron and filling it with various powders and brushes.

“Ooooo we should do a make-up party sometime.” Alice squealed. “We try to do it with all the new girls. And since Yoongi is” she hushed her voice again “One of our favorites. We have to take care of his assistant.”

You smiled, “Sure. That sounds nice. Excuse me.” You decided to go see how the clothes were going.

“Yes. Yoongi’s assistant. So glad you’re here.” Hoseok turned to you.

“She has a name, it’s YN.” You heard Yoongi say from behind the curtain.

“Yes yes. I know. We talked yesterday, remember? At that meeting I scheduled for me and you that you did not come to. Anyways, here. The outfits are now coordinated. They have tags on them corresponding to their accessory in the accessory trunk. Some pieces have more than one option that the Director of Photography and Yoongi will decide on. Got it?”

You looked over the set up. It seemed simple enough since Hoseok had organized it so well .”Yep. You going out to enjoy the sunshine?”

“Honey, I am the sunshine. I’m off to get laid after having to deal with this cloudy baby.” He gestured to the changing room.

“Don’t call me baby.” Yoongi shouted from behind the curtain. You just laughed as Hoseok turned around and left. You waited for a few minutes.

“You ok in there? Need me to come help you put your pants on?” You teased.

“Not necessary.” Yoongi slid open the curtain. Why was everyone teasing him today? He pouted without thinking about it.

You walked over, straightening the collar of his shirt “Hey now, you can’t go around pouting like a baby and not expect people to call you one. Here,” you handed him a mandarin. He scowled at you as he took it. “Such a pretty face” You laughed.

“Yeah whatever. I can eat this while they set up the white meter. You should be fine to just hang around at this point.”

“Alright. Sounds good.” The two of you walked over to the main part of the set where the Director gave Yoongi instructions about where to sit as they practiced the blocking and softbox placement.

“Oh my god he looks so good eating that tangerine.” You overheard. Your eyes bugged out slightly and you turned around. A group of women from the photography team were looking at the images to check the saturation and focus, as well as apparently the model. Damn. NEXT CHAPTER

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#BTS suga #bts writing #bts fic #suga x you #suga x reader #yoongi scenarios #bts yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #suga x y/n #bts suga x reader #bts suga x you

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ariparri · 3 years ago

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This drawing was inspired by a story my friend cursedautumn wrote for me as her part of our usual story for art trade.

It's been so long since I've drawn something in this style, I was scared I was going to give up half way through the entire thing. But nope, I was quite ambitious and pulled through 9 hours to finish this piece!

Look at that! It's absolutely beautiful 😭 I can stare at this and be so damn proud of it all day!

Speaking of the story, you can read it here under the cut. Flowers may be my absolute favorite from autumn's stories, but this was just too cute. I just adore the father/daughter dynamic Veruca and Elroy have.

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His Princess

"Alrighty, I'm leaving." Wilhelmina kissed Elroy on the cheek and took the bag. “I'll be there in the evening, don't wait for me early. I left a list of products that Vera needs to be fed. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"You underestimate me," Elroy growled, jokingly offended. "Veruca will be fine, I'm a fully capable father, Wil. Go and have a good rest, you'll see when you come back, the house will shine, and the child will have the tenth dream." Wilhelmina smiled dryly and rolled her eyes. "You're the same as always. Well, I'm off."

With that, she opened the door and went out. Elroy watched her go for a while until she disappeared behind the fence, then closed the door and took a deep breath. Elroy McQuaid was a father of two children, but, frankly, he had already forgotten what it was like to stay all day with a small child. Coby had grown up a long time ago, now he was at Hogwarts (where, by the way, he recently received an indignant letter from Minerva McGonagall about his son's behavior), and little Veruca did not want to sit still and quickly came up with entertainment for herself: she rolled away from her father, turning over from her back to her stomach, then, on the contrary, crawled up to him and began pulling his hair or stubble. Elroy didn't mind, but he couldn't let his daughter roll around on the floor all day and pinch him! He had to think of something to do. So he picked up Veruca in his arms and spoke, "What should we do? We're going to play with toys, aren't we, baby?"

"Yes!" Veruca said glibly. She didn't know how to speak yet, but she already knew words like "yes", "not", "ma", "pa" and "Co-i" (that is, Coby). Elroy was infinitely proud of his daughter; Wilhelmina took it much more calmly and even laughed at his constant delight. Elroy was slightly offended: "How can you, Wil? She talks great for her age!", but there were no big quarrels because of this, and he understood that his wife showed love for her daughter in a slightly different way.

As soon as she was in her room, Veruca clung tightly to a wooden box filled to the brim with toys. There were dolls, plush toys, a plastic tea set, with which the baby sometimes gently beat her older brother, several suits with bat wings and many other means of entertainment. Elroy watched in silence as she turned over the wooden box, and sighed to himself: later he would have to take a long and painstaking time to clean up the mess that his daughter had made. But he obediently waited until all the contents of the box were on the floor, and smiled, "Come on, Vera, choose what we will play."

Veruca thought for a while and a soft bat colored so bright it was slowly eating out Elroy's eyes. This bat was given to the McQuaid family by friends a few years ago, and at first Coby played with it, and then it was taken away from him by his younger sister. Veruca took it out at every opportunity and forced the first family member she met to entertain her, holding her in their hands and "butting" the girl with a toy. Elroy didn't have much choice right now. He asked, "Are we going to play this?"

"Yes!" Veruca nodded. She had the same light green eyes as Elroy, like clear, transparent water.

"All right," he agreed. "I'll butt you. Come on…" Suddenly, he quickly grabbed the toy and began to gently poke his daughter in the face. Veruca burst into a ringing childish laugh, trying to grab a bat, and randomly waved her plump hands in the air. Elroy poked the toy first on her cheek, then in her stomach, then in her shoulder, and she laughed and made futile attempts to outwit dad and catch her pet. At that moment, Veruca strangely reminded Elroy of a young Wilhelmina, just as cheerful, laughing happily, not yet so strict and upset by the behavior of her growing son. Actually, Veruca was much more like her father, but there was already something about her that made her obviously the daughter of Wilhelmina McQuaid.

After playing with the bat, Veruca lost interest in it and took up a book of fairy tales written by the bard Beadle. Of course, it was still too early for her to read them, but the bright pictures on the glossy paper attracted the eye, and the baby ran her finger along the pages with genuine interest, looking questioningly at Elroy, as if asking what was depicted here. Most of all, she was interested in pictures of beautiful queens, princesses and sorceresses, women with long hair, dressed in dresses, robes and heavy jewelry. The girl especially liked the drawing of Morgan Le Fay, a tall red-haired woman with light green eyes, in a white dress. Veruca poked at it with her finger and hooted.

"This, baby, is Morgan Le Fay. She was a very outstanding sorceress, healer and fortune-teller. The sorcerers bewitched people, Vera, they are also wizards, it's just that their magic was different. And Morgan was both a sorceress and a witch. It's complicated, isn't it?" Elroy explained, to which Veruca frowned and turned away, indicating that she was not interested in this topic. She always did this when she did not understand what was being said to her, but she did not want to show her ignorance — it hurts her pride so much!

And even though Veruca was still a very little girl, she had pride. This pleased Elroy: if self-confidence and healthy pride are inherent in a person from childhood, nothing will knock them out of there. So let his daughter be proud. It was better to have pride than not to have it, his sister had once told him, and Elroy completely agreed with her.

Suddenly, his daughter turned over on her stomach and, starting to turn over slowly, rolled in the opposite direction from him. Elroy was so surprised that he didn't even understand what was happening, and he stared at Veruсa with his mouth open for a few seconds, and then he realized that the typical willfulness of the McQuaids had awakened in her, and she decided to try to move herself. Attempts to "escape" have occurred before, but Wilhelmina, with the air of a connoisseur, assured that this is normal and there is no need to interfere with the child's self-development.

"Veruca!" Elroy called out to his daughter.

"Ah!" she answered him and giggled, once again turning over on her stomach. "Vera," the man said more quietly. "Where are you going?" Veruca smiled with an almost toothless mouth and giggled louder. Elroy sighed loudly and got to his feet to put the mischievous girl back in her place.

Suddenly, Veruca reached out with a tiny hand and grabbed the leg of a chair. She tensed, slightly lifting the body and pulling her legs under her.

And then she began to get up — in the literal sense, to get to her feet, holding tightly to the leg of the chair, as if for a handrail, and finally straightened up and stood up, swaying slightly. Elroy froze in mute amazement, joy and disbelief, watching his little daughter, his princess, stand on her feet for the first time, and was afraid to even sigh and break the great moment. This feeling was even brighter than what he had experienced when Coby first got on his feet, much, much brighter, although Elroy did not want to admit it to himself.

It seems that Veruca was afraid of her own independence and the next second fell on the carpet and began to cry. Elroy was at his daughter's side in the blink of an eye and hastily picked her up in his arms, saying affectionately:

"Don't cry, Vera, don't cry, my princess, everything will be fine, you're a good girl. Look, you got up for the first time today, can you imagine?" and he kissed the top of her head, stroking her back. Veruca's crying wasn't caused by pain or anything worse, it's just that she hardly expected such sharp physical progress from herself.

So he patiently calmed her down until the girl stopped crying and wearily buried her face in her father's shirt.

"Do you want to sleep?" Elroy asked gently. "Let's go sit outside. It started raining there, we'll swing in the chair, listen to the weather…"

They did just that. Elroy went out onto the terrace. There he sat down in a wicker rocking chair with Veruca in his arms and was quiet; a summer downpour was really rustling on the green street and in the garden. The storm swelled over the McQuaid estate, rallying in the sky in a dense purple wall, ready to crack and burst into lightning. But while there were no loud noises, Elroy held the sleeping Veruca, wrapped in a plump purple blanket with a bat's face, in his arms and looked at the blooming garden. There was an unusual calmness in his soul, although, in general, there was no cause for alarm; nevertheless, such satisfaction in his soul had not been for a long time-maybe because he was the father of two children, the eldest of whom was now supplying his school with problems, and the youngest was still very small and helpless, like a porcelain doll. They had to look after both of them, and it was difficult for him and Wilhelmina. Very difficult.

Elroy kissed the top of Veruca's head as she dozed off. No, he was grateful to his wife, Providence, and himself a million times for his daughter, because since his youth his dream was to have a daughter, his little princess, just like from fairy tales. As a child, he saw how carefully his father treats his sister, and just dreamed of doing the same.

And now he had Veruca.

His little girl.

His princess.

Elroy wrapped his daughter more tightly in the blanket and began to doze a little himself. The storm did not break out with thunder and lightning, only the rain began to rustle more loudly, and somewhere on the horizon a rainbow began to appear, as if the sky was watching the father and daughter and letting a bright ray through the summer rainy haze.

The rainbow was flaring up. Elroy and Veruca were sleeping peacefully.

#ariparri #elroy mcquaid #veruca mcquaid #hogwarts mystery #hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm mc #hogwarts mystery mc #fanfic #hogwarts mystery fanfic #fanfiction #hphm fanfiction #hphm fanart #hogwarts mystery fanart #jacob's sibling

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shesawriter39049 · 4 years ago

Text

|7 DEEP| M| MASTERLIST|

SMUT/ANGST/FLUFF/POLY AU

AU SUMMARY- Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! This is a candid in-depth look at the rollercoaster ride that is your life!

ALSO LOWKEY A RAGS TO RICHES STORY.....

Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin, Tae, Hoseok, and Jimin, all already work with the OC and Joon, Kookie comes in later one as a new hire...and the possible final piece…

DISCLAIMER: Obv this is a poly so the boys are Bi..but outside of kissing and dirty talk I have not YET ventured into physical MXM….

NOTE- As long as this keeps getting support the initial plan is 7 one-shots, one for each boys. Everyone installment will have smut as well as a overall storyline, one that not only ties into your job, but also the OC’s (AKA YOU) special dynamic with each individual member. The last one-shot (7th) will be the first and maybe only one where smut wise it’s all 7 of them, it will finally address how they all came together, and will be partially a flashback sequence. HOWEVER, there will be bits and pieces of the “Characters” lives and what not sprinkled within the “drabbles” too...so those will also be worth reading especially, as the story developes....or at least reading the summaries!

Kookie will make appearances throughout, however, he is NOT as involved off rip as the other boys…

ONE-SHOTS SO FAR :

AFTER-HOURS- NAMJOON X OC (Tae comes in at the end) -

ABOUT- Your husband and business partner find you up way past acceptable work hours for the 3rd night in a row! So, daddy has to step in and remind you that’s not something we do in this household. You come before work, in every sense of the phrase!

OR-You're in desperate need of a 2nd videographer/editor, because Yoongi’s in over his fucking head! So here you are, up at 1 AM scrolling through resumes because your that boss that hates to overwork her employees so she overworks herself!

AKA- “MEET THE KIMS”

PRETTY PLEASE- TAEHYUNG X OC - ( Joon comes in at the end)

About- Tae fucks you on top of your receptionist's desk before you fire her…

Or- Tae’s feeling a little needy...and somewhat high-key self continuous about you possibly hiring a new production assistant...AKA...Jungkook. It seems as though Mr. Kim takes pride in being the youngest within the office! It seems as though your baby boy just needs a little..reassurance…

JIN & CHOCOLATE- JIN X OC (FT A lil Seok at the end ) -

(5K SMUT WITH A SIDE OF PLOT! NOT JIN’S INTRO CHAPTER)

About-You suck Jin off…and brownie batter may or may not be somewhat involved because why the fuck not. Oh, Hoseok comes over to drop off weed…and welll….doesn't exactly leave

Or- His assistants birthday is tomorrow and she’s insisted on him making his infamous “Dizzy Brownies” AKA…pot brownies and Jin being the perfectionist he is, scrapes the first batch. You however, think they’re fine and if he’s not gonna bake with said batter you’ll find use for some of it…..Then Hosoek stops by to bring the missing ingredient…weed and his dick…

TOUCH ME , TEASE ME- NAMJOON X OC

(5K, IN COLORATION TO THE EVENTS THAT WILL TAKE PLACE IN “GOT ME LOOSIN’ ALL MY COOL)

About- Namjoon eats you out the minute you walk in the door because well…that’s the kinda husband he is!

Or- Jimin text’s Namjoon to brace him for the mood you’ll more than likely be in after a day full of drama and finally firing the front desk receptionist! Which essentially red for him to make you come hard AF and then feed you….OH, and You guys invite Yoongi over to talk about the Tae and Kookie “Thing”

PRIVATE SHOW- TAE X OC (NEW)

(5k, Holiday esque one-shot however for the 1st time it does dive into the downside of being in a poly relationship that’s essentially a secret in the publics eye)

About-Just a casual lunch outing where Tae’s trying to do his job and your trying to get him off under the table with your shoe...nothing new!

OR- Tae and yourself are grabbing lunch at 71 Above, after checking out the last couple of venues for the company's end of the year Holiday party. While at said restaurant, it becomes a humbling reminder that the most important people in your life are essentially a secret...cute!

UP AND COMING: In no particular order!

MUTED- YOONGI X OC (SIDE JIN)- HIATUS

Note, this is more of a smut drabble though it will be around 3k...this is NOT Yoongi/Jin’s official “Introduction” if that makes sense….(SNEAK PEEK IS LINKED)

About-Yoongi goes down on you in the back seat while you’re on a business call….Jin’s driving, lowkey watching..and being a little shit the entire time…

Or- You’re on the phone with a dick of an investor and a second away from losing your shit and calling off the entire deal…however…your boys decide to “distract” you. Give you a little something to keep you at ease so you don’t blow this 6 figure account…

MAKE ME PROUD- JIMIN X OC (ALL THE MEMBERS ARE IN THIS BRIEFLY)

About- Jimin and yourself take a trip to get a sneak peek at “Filter” before it opens… and Jimin fucks you on top of the bartop…

Or- Jimin’s ready to make his first solo big boy investment….AKA...opening up his own Gay club in WeHo...and the new business venture also reopen’s old wounds about his past. Both good and bad..but at the end of the day he remembers he wouldn’t the version of himself that he’s oh so proud of...without a little someone named “Y/N”

“PARTY FAVORS”- YOONGI X OC-

About- You and Yoongi get a little one on one time while in Amsterdam, IE getting completely stoned, and attending a sex show..hell maybe even joining in on a sex show...shit just get’s wild in the Dam!

OR- You and your boys jet out to Amsterdam for the weekend to celebrate 16 AVN award nominations (AKA THE TONY’S/GRAMMY’S OF PORN) and while high and in a country where nobody knows who you are...(which means Yoongi and yourself are free to do as you please even in public)....Yoongi admits for the first time that sometimes he feels a type of way that HE wasn’t the one that married you considering the two of you were a thing FIRST....

“CHAMPAGNE SHOWERS” - JIN X OC (Side Namjoon)- NEW

About- Jin says he's coming over to discuss business over brunch, champagne, and a nice Jacuzzi bath…which, of course, leads to more than just talk about “Finances and portfolio expansions”

OR: Jin’s the eldest, he loves control, he needs control, hints why he’s the finical controller..always has been...even in the domestic sense. Jin’s also shit at feelings he’s used to being the shoulder to cry on not needing the shoulder..he’s not used to feeling vulnerable...so it’s not to easiest for him to admit that he misses being the one you all come home too...misses being “needed”! He’s used to being the one that has his shit together, being the glue that’s held you lot together during your worst times..so this...is completely out of his comfort zone!

“ALL EYES ON ME” - HOSEOK X OC (FT OT7)- NEW

About- Hoseok and yourself have sex in a very questionable place while at the launch party for ‘Spectrum” I.E. your newest business venture...sex toys…your man deserves a little…”Thank you” for all the work he’s put in...including planning this party!

OR- Hoseok’s in over his fuckin head, he’s the one essentially spearheading the launch of “Spectrum” which is obviously his job as the head of Marketing, tactical ETC, however, this is just..different...he’s literally the one steering the boat. He’s good at what he does he knows this, he’s fucking made for it...but...it;s still’ bringing out some old, nasty insecurities...reminding him how he's his own worst critic...a perfectionist to the fault. Reminding them of those days where he never thought he was good enough...and it would absolutely break him if he lets you lot down!

“GOT ME LOOSIN’ ALL MY COOL) -KOOK X READER | JIMIN X READER (SMUT) FT- YOONGI & TAE

About- Jimin and yourself take Jungkook shopping for a new suit to wear to the “Spectrum” launch party! OH, and Jimin fucks you in the backseat of your truck in the parking garage of the mall…..

OR: You know Kookie still in that “Broke college grad” phase only being with the company barley a month, and you don’t want him to feel self-conscious at the event! You’ve also been too busy to really check in with him to see how he’s adjusting! So, you thought something like this, in a more laxed atmosphere, would be a good solution! Oh and Jimin, honestly he’s just nosey as fuck and inched himself along, like nobody really invited him he invited his damn self! Also Jungook can’t underatand why the fuck your all so damn attractive...like...why!?

AKA-MEET JUNGKOOK JEON

SNEAK PEEK

***

THE “FINAL” ONE-SHOT, IS NOT FULLY OUTLINED YET

******

FINAL NOTE-

This series is open to request...for one-shot/ member scenarios/drabbles.

The initial 7 one-shots are done to get the dynamic and I guess you could say “Plot” set in stone...however, once that’s done and in-between I’m open to random scenarios as long as it somewhat coincides with the “Universe”

This is a story that follows normal day to day life in a sense....they just happen to live a very exciting one!

Anything from them going grocery shopping and making dinner...all the way to the OC and one of the boys fooling around on set...as long as it fits the vibe. I’m down!

*** To clarify as well...publicly ( And in the workplace) the world just knows your married to Namjoon....the whole poly situation is not something blasted on your Wiki...at least not yet....***

(Optional)

***POSTIONS’S WITHIN THE COMPANY***

(Obv things are spread out now and they have other employees but they all STILL oversee multiple jobs...It’s a habit now. For so many years they couldn’t afford the help! So, now that they can they’ve just become a little...protective of said job duties..)

Y/n Kim(26)- CEO/Founder/HR/Storyboard/Content creator/Directory/Scriptwriter/Talent scout/ALL OF THE ABOVE (Set design, DVD author, 2nd Location manager, etc)

Namjoon Kim (26)- CEO/ Founder/ Director/ Content analyst/ Lead scriptwriter/ Sr Production manger/ ALL OF THE ABOVE (IT, web design, outreach, etc)

Yoongi Min (27)- Head digital producer/ Program/site Planner/Production manager/Sound engineer/Production scheduler

Taehyung Kim (24)-Executive Assistant/ Content admin/ location manager/Wardrobe assistant/backup talent scout & health liaison

Seokjin Kim (28)- Senior Accountant/ Sales manager/ Financial controller/Logistics/Operations

Jimin Park (25)- Head talent scout/ Model Liaison/ Wardrobe/ Hair & Makeup coordinator/ Onset assistant/Health Liaison

Hoseok Jung (26)- Social media/ Streaming manager/Tactical marketer/ Advertising/event manager/PR

NOW HIRING: FOR A VIDEO EDITOR/IMAGE PROCESSOR/SOUND EDITOR/SECONDARY PHOTOGRAPHER AKA-

“PRODUCTION COORDINATOR“

....WELCOME TO ONYX!

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thatesqcrush · 4 years ago

Text

Fall From Grace, Pt. 9

Bryan Kneef x Reader. Fandom: The Good Fight. Reference: S4, E.4, “The Gang is Satirized and Doesn’t Like It.” CW: Angst, language, fluff. AN: Our lovely REE was on The Good Fight for all of 3 minutes so I am taking lots of liberties. I am obsessed with the anti-Barba. He was just delicious.

WC: 2313

Six months.

It had been six months since you moved to the East Coast and enjoyed all that NYC had to offer. However fast paced Chicago seemed to be, New York City moved just a little bit faster.

You had crammed a bagel with an obscene amount of cream cheese in your mouth when a plethora of emails with electronic case filings came through your inbox. You switched gears and began associating the files with the respective cases when one in particular caused you to freeze.

STR Laurie

Bryan Kneef, Esq.

233 South Wacker Drive, Suite 8000

Chicago, IL 60606-6448

Attorneys for Defendants

APPEARANCE OF COUNSEL

LIBERTY LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY,

HOLBROOK SECURITIES LLC (Defendants)

Allison Kensington (Plaintiff)

Pearson Specter

Civil Action No. 10-cv-3752

TO THE CLERK OF THE COURT AND ALL PARTIES OF RECORD: PLEASE TAKE NOTICE that the undersigned is admitted to practice in this court, and hereby enters an appearance as counsel in this case for defendants. Please serve all papers related to this action on the undersigned.

By: Bryan Kneef

STR Laurie

[email protected]

Attorneys for Defendants

You swallowed the half-chewed bagel, grimacing as it scraped your throat as it went down.

“Motherfucker!” You swore loudly, slamming your hand on your desk.

“Am I interrupting?”

You jumped in your seat. You looked up and found yourself face to face with Rachel, who was standing in your doorway.

You felt your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment. “Oh, uh…”

“Safe to say you saw the notice of appearance.” Rachel remarked, her brow cocked.

You nodded. “Yup.” You smacked your lips on the end of the P, emphasizing it.

“I wanted to know if you still wanted in on the case.” Rachel sat in the chair in front of you, her arms crossed. You had been at the firm maybe two weeks tops before you spilled everything to Rachel about Bryan.

“Yes, I do.” You replied. “And before you ask me if I'm tough enough to be in there, I want you to know that I am tough enough.”

“That's not what I wanted to ask.” Rachel replied. “I want to know if you think it will rattle him.”

“Frankly, I think it was purposefully done.” You sighed. “Is there a deposition?”

“Of course there is. Monday.”

The week surprisingly went quickly, and Monday came before you knew it. You looked over your appearance in the mirror. Suddenly your go-to pantsuit and button down didn’t cut it anymore. You hemmed and hawed in front of your closet and settled on a crisp white top and a muted grey pencil skirt. You popped the collar slightly and rolled up your sleeves.

Your mind flew to the memories of what happened whenever you did wear pencil skirt – somehow it’d end up over your hips or by your ankles with Bryan bringing you to the height of pleasure. You pinned your hair up and kept your makeup minimal, with the exception of a bold lip.

Your heels clacked against the pavement of the city’s sidewalk as you approached Pearson Specter. And sure enough, Bryan was in front of the building, pacing while on the phone.

You ducked your head hoping that he wouldn’t notice you. But curiosity got the best of you and you looked over your shoulder as you entered through the revolving door. Your eyes met Bryan’s as he pivoted while on the phone. You quickly turned and hurried into the building.

---

Bryan walked down the hall of the firm after being directed to the conference room. He was anxious to see you. He knew he was playing with fire being here in New York. When the case fell in his lap, he knew he had to see it through and maybe, just maybe, see you. He missed you immensely. Truth be told, no other woman had ever gotten to him like you did. Through the glass, he noticed you setting up and his pulse quickened. Bryan rapped on the door before swinging the door open.

“Good morning.” You clipped. ‘Shit. Stay strong’ you thought to yourself as you drank him in. You nearly forgot how good he looked in his three piece suit. His gaze was smoldering and you shifted uncomfortably in your stance.

“Y/N.” Bryan greeted, with a small smile. “You look well.”

“How’s everyone in Chicago?” You replied, ignoring his compliment as you stapled some paper together.

“Good. You’re remembered fondly.” Bryan replied.

“I mean, can’t say I am surprised.” You retorted, as you finished organizing the conference table. “I’ll be sitting in on the depo, just so you know.”

“You think being in the room is going to keep me from doing my job?” Bryan asked, his brows furrowed.

You pointed at Bryan and then at yourself. “Aren’t I the reason you even signed on counsel?”

“Liberty Life is my client. Of course, I had to show up.” Bryan replied.

“So what – you figured you’d orchestrate this stunt and then –”

“I didn’t orchestrate shit.” Bryan sighed, irritated. “I am doing my job.”

You cocked your head and leaned over the table slightly. “Is this a joke?”

Bryan walked around to where you were standing. He was dangerously close to you and your eyes met his. “I miss you. Can’t we just talk?”

You stood silently, racking your brain as to what to say. “About what? Us? What is there to say? Our relationship…”

You moved to push back some hair when Bryan noticed the sparkling bracelet on your wrist. “You are wearing it.”

You looked at the tennis bracelet. “Oh. Yes. It’s beautiful. Thank you. It was very generous of you.”

Bryan reached for your hand and at the same time, Rachel entered the room. “Am I interrupting?”

Bryan shirked back his hand. “No. Just catching up. Reminding Y/N that Chicago has better hot dogs. And that we should have never let her go.”

---

The deposition was grueling, lasting a few hours. Bryan was relentless in his questioning. As he fired his questions, your mind was transported back to the case you first helped him with and how you got to watch him in court. Your whatever it was, with Bryan was complicated and was tempestuous. Deep down though, you still had deep feelings for Bryan. You spent your first month in New York crying your eyes out, wondering if you had made a mistake leaving.

You escorted your client out and then returned to gather the rest of your belongings. You paused before entering the conference room again, watching Rachel and Bryan speak. They shook hands and you wondered what that was about.

Finally you took a breath and entered. “Everything okay?”

Rachel smiled. “I think we’ll be settling. Bryan has made a very generous offer.

You smiled. “That’s great. I am happy to hear that.” While you were happy for your client, you were disappointed because you knew that Bryan would be leaving town. You groaned inwardly, hating how Bryan caused such a mix bag of feelings within you.

“Walk me out?” Bryan asked.

“Sure.” You blurted out, not even giving it so much as a second thought.

The walk to the elevator bank was silent. Finally, Bryan spoke. “Can we go out to dinner?”

You raised a brow and sucked in a breath. “That … sounds sincere.” You searched Bryan’s eyes and realized he was indeed being genuine. “Okay.”

“Is your number the same?” Bryan asked and you nodded. “I’ll text you the details. I’ll see you tonight.” Bryan replied as the elevator dinged, signaling its arrival.

You bid Bryan adieu and went back to your office. Despite the piles of work on your desk, you found yourself distracted. You couldn’t focus one bit. Your mind kept going back to the events prior. You kept checking your phone to see if Bryan had texted you.

Groaning, you took your phone and threw it into your drawer. You opened a new browser window and were just about to throw yourself completely into your work when your phone buzzed loudly from inside your drawer.

It was Bryan. Reservations made at The River Cafe. 7pm.

You texted back. See you then.

You threw your phone back in the drawer and dropped your head into your hands. “What have I gotten myself into?” You wondered out loud. You knew you were playing with fire and that there was a real possibility of getting burned, but you looked forward to the date.

“It’s two people sharing a dinner. Nothing more. You got this.” You muttered to yourself. Part of you knew it was a lie. Part of you figured if you said it enough times, you’d believe it.

You left work an hour early to get ready. The River Café was situated right on the East River, just a hair south of the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. You knew you needed enough time to get back to your apartment in Chelsea and then all the way down to Brooklyn. You decided to wear a cream-colored tulip hem skirt and a black lace deep v-neck blouse. The material of the blouse was quite thin and you decided to forego a bra to avoid lines. You knew your outfit was dangerous with Bryan. Simultaneously, you wanted Bryan to eat his heart out and maybe tempt fate so you could get dicked down.

You left your hair loose, just curling it slightly to make loose waves. You kept your makeup the same, just touching up your liner and lipstick. A spritz of perfume and a change of shoes to heeled strappy sandals and you were well on your way.

Your stomach lurched as the cab sped downtown to the restaurant. You watched as the city flew by in a blur and subconsciously you played with your tennis bracelet. The cab came to a stop and you found yourself in front of the restaurant.

Bryan was at the bar and the corner of his lips turned up into a devilish smile as you approached. Bryan wore dark jeans, a white button down and a matching navy suit jacket. The restaurant is gorgeous and the wafts of the various smells of food made your stomach rumble.

“You look gorgeous.” Bryan complimented as he embraced you into a hug.

“Thank you. You look great yourself.” You replied. You inhaled his cologne and emotions flooded you. ‘Relax.’ You commanded to yourself.

“I took the liberty of ordering you a glass of Malbec.” Bryan replied.

“You remembered.” You smiled as the bartender came over with a glass.

“Of course I did.” Bryan replied. “It’s your favorite.”

“The Catena Zapata Malbec Argentino for the lady, and an Old Fashioned for the gentleman.”

Bryan thanked the bartender, tipping him generously. You barely managed a sip when the hostess came over and seated you both at a table overlooking the East River – providing a clear shot of the Brooklyn Bridge. The view is breathtaking and you find yourself captivated by Bryan once more – all of the inner guards you had in place crumbled.

You both easily catch up over the last few months and dinner goes by quickly. Dessert is brought out and as you lick chocolate mousse off the spoon, you become acutely aware of Bryan’s lustful gaze on you. You give him a bashful look and you put the spoon down. Bryan paid for dinner while you excused yourself to the bathroom to freshen up.

The weather was warm and the breeze was inviting so you decided to walk along the Brooklyn Bridge back towards Manhattan. The tips of Bryan’s fingers grazed yours and the feeling is electric. The second time your fingers grazed his, they interlock and you hold hands the rest of the way until you get to the midpoint of the bridge.

You take in the view of Manhattan ahead. Bryan stood next to you, also taking in the view.

His hand traced concentric circles on your back and you involuntarily shivered. Bryan tilted your chin towards him. “I—I had a really nice time tonight.” You reply and you are surprised by how genuinely you mean it.

Bryan’s gaze lowered to your lips and instinctively you parted them. People on the bridge walk by but your oblivious to anyone else around you but Bryan. He pulled you flush against him. Instinctively, your arms wrapped around his neck. Bryan’s lips ghosted yours and then he paused. You both breathed in each other’s air and finally you gave in, colliding your lips against his. His kisses taste like the mousse you shared and the cocktails he had had during dinner. His tongue swirled against yours. Arousal shot to your core. A hand slipped up the slope of your side and somehow, discreetly, Bryan cupped your breast. His thumb ran over a hardened nipple and you let out a quiet moan. Finally you pull away breathless. Your lipstick was smeared and you could see evidence of it on Bryan’s lips. “Bryan we can’t do this.”

Bryan’s brows knit together and jaw tightened. He pulled away from you and faced the view of Manhattan. “Why? Because we’re on the opposite sides of a case now? I settled.”

You don’t reply and you could feel your eyes brimming with tears.

“I still love you. I haven’t stopped loving you. I know I hurt you. And I have apologized.” Bryan replied, his voice clipped.

“I know you have.” You replied. Your voice cracks and you kick yourself inwardly.

“Then what is it?”

“I’m afraid.” You admitted. “I am scared you’re going to hurt me again.”

“I will do whatever it takes.” Bryan replied. “It won’t be easy since you decided to move to the wrong city.” He adds with a slight sneer.

You laughed haughtily, rolling your eyes. “I wouldn’t have had to move if you just treated me like a human and not as if I were disposable.”

“I told you I didn’t do the girlfriend thing. And then things got complicated. And I fucked up. It was all fucked. I…” Bryan paused. “I said I was sorry for fucks sake Y/N.”

You knew he was baring his soul. You turn back to him, and cup his bearded cheek. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Bryan furrowed his brow once more. “What the fuck does that mean? Does that mean you and I...”

You nodded slowly. “We’ll try again. Because the truth is that I still love you too. And we owe it to at least really try. No more hiding anything to anyone.”

Bryan pulled you into a kiss once more. The kiss was with such intensity, it left your breathless.

“Now would be the time for you to show me your bedroom.” Bryan growled in your ear.

You smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

TBC.

Tag list: @madpanda75 @mgarner1227 @delia26 @tropes-and-tales @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @kscarlett1 @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @blk0912 @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader- anyone else, just ask!

#the good fight fanfic #bryan kneef x reader #bryan kneef and reader #bryan kneef imagine #brian kneef x reader #Brian kneef and reader

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pandaioh · 4 years ago

Text

POLY!ROADRAT WITH MUTE!FEMALE READER CRUMBS

“Damn it, escortin that payload was a crock a shit!” Junkrat and Roadhog had just landed back on base with the rest of the Overwatch crew that was sent on yet another “Payload” mission. This mission in particular was almost a complete failure, if Junkrat hadn’t used his RIP-tire on the omnic drones right at the last minute, almost completely obliterating him. Luckily for the Junkers they left with only a few scratches and bruises, obviously used to the high octane violence. Now that their mission was completed, they can earn their pay and be on leave for the rest of the week, letting some other poor sap get blown to smithereens.

They both limped and hobbled through the halls of Gibraltar, heading to their living quarters, where they could finally be rid of their explosives and weapons for the time-being. The walk there, however, was a tad unpleasant considering some of the dirty looks and awkward expressions the Junkers received as they walked on through the base’s multiple corridors. Junkrat lowered his head as he heard the quiet and curt murmurs of the other Overwatch personnel. He could’ve shouted, could’ve thrown a punch or use his grenade launcher and put those sorry bastards out of their misery, but he was too damn tired to really care. He just wanted to relax. Aggressive snorts and snarls escaped Roadhog as he lifted his hook threateningly.

“Save it, Roadie.” Junkrat hushed hoarsely. “S’not worth the time or day, not when we have our misso to get back to….” Junkrat grinned slightly. Roadhog sheathed his weapon and went back to accompanying his partner. Underneath his heavy intimidating mask, he too, grinned slightly at the idea of the both of them going home to their beloved treasure; you.

You were the only one that saw past their unrestrained exteriors and their pitiful pathos. It was you that gave them the second chance of living that no one, not even anyone of their own kind would ever think to give two lowly bruisers. It was you that gave them that little glimmering light of hope and happiness that there was and is someone out there that actually gives a damn about the both of them. It was you that took both of their hands and held on for dear life and lead them into the path of vindication and equity. You, unknowingly, saved them. And the two Junkers would forever be in your debt because of that.

After a couple more steps, they finally walked along the hall that lead to their and your living quarters. Hoisting his grenade launcher over his shoulder, Junkrat spat onto his fleshed hand and with that, used it to slick his hair back, parodically for a more suave look, wanting to impress you. Roadhog rolled his eyes under his mask and placed his Scrap Gun, back into his hoister.

“She sees you everyday, Rat,” Hog grunted. “Don’t need to try an’ impress her.” “Says you!” Junkrat scoffed. “If I want ta groom meself for our lil love, than groom I shall!” “You know, grooming actually requires more than just your spit,” Hog responded. “It requires basic hygine, which we both know isn’t your strong suit.”

Junkrat felt disgruntled at his partner’s straightforward response, he huffed and stomped to the front of their door. “Well,” He started. “We’ll just see what Y/N thinks about the hard working, handsome, strong rouge that is Jamison Fawkes!” He manically giggled as he reached his prosthetic hand to knock on the door, but found that it swung open to reveal your face covered in unknown substances and by the look of it…sprinkles? You quickly placed your hands on his face and kissed him. Wide eyed and completely taken back, Junkrat wrapped his arms around you and placed another tender kiss on your forehead. “Well that was a fine ‘how do ya do?’ sweets!” He grinned wildly and you giggled as his face turned a flush of red. You then turned to Roadhog, who was already in the process of taking off his infamous mask, revealing the tender yet broken-scarred face you’ve come to adore and love.

“Hey, Y/N…” he softly smiled. He took you into his big arms and kissed you deeply, parting and then placed a small kiss on your nose. His massive index finger caressed the side of your smooth warm cheeks, sketching your face into his memory. Something, however, caught his eye and took a small grain of a colored speck off your cheek. It was comically, too small for him to carry in between his thumb and index and it broke into dust. You had little particles of these colored grains in patches of your short curly pixie cut, on your blouse, on your apron and some on your jeans.

“Speakin’ of ‘sweets’,” Junkrat spoke. “Got hundreds and thousands all over ya, love. Like a sweety treat I want to eat.” He hugged you from behind, but hearing that sentence prompt you to whip around and sign them to close their eyes. The Junkers looked at each other and back to you, unknowing of what you had in store for them.

You signed to them with body language, placing your hands over your eyes and peeked through your digits. Junkrat tilted his head confused at what you were implying.

“Ah huh, ya playin peekaboo with us? Yer too adorable, y’know that?” he chuckled as his flesh hand ruffled your curly hair. Making an irritated noise you shook your head, indicating that wasn’t what you were saying. You took Junkrat’s hand and placed it over his own eyes. You made an adorable little noise up at Roadhog who smiled lightly understanding what your motive was.

“Got a surprise for us?” He whispered. You chirped and nodded your head excitedly. “A surprise!?” Junkrat exclaimed. “I love surprises, lil love! What is it? What is it!?” You blew the lanky junker a raspberry, placing as hand back over his eyes so that he dared not to peek. “If she told you,” Roadhog grunted. “It wouldn’t be a surprise.” Placing his own hand back over his eyes. You made a sound agreeing with the goliath junker and took both of their free hands, leading them into your living area. Whipping your head back to see if their eyes were still closed, you saw that they were and you smiled and giggled. You lead them to two seats and had them sit down.

“Can we look yet?” Junkrat asked almost too quickly, trying to peek through his fingers Roadhog placed his free hand forcefully on Junkrat’s face and he heard his partner grumbling lowly. They heard the sounds of dishes being placed on the table in front of them and liquid being poured into glasses. A few seconds later, you straightened your apron and grinned proudly. You made a noise, indicating that they could open. Upon finally having to look, they were both greeted by an all too familiar Austrailian snack, two tall stacks of bread with sprinkles scattered on every piece and two glasses of milk for them to drink; Fairy bread. You surprised them with fairy bread. Anyone outside of the old aussie tradition would’ve scoffed and given you a grimace, but the Junkers, to them, this was absolutely harmonious. It was this little act of goodwill and affection that just made them fall for you even more than what they already have. You even went the extra mile and placed a vase with a flower in the middle along with a note that read;

“~For all the wonderful things you do for me.~” Y/N

“Tah dah!” you shrieked and then bashfully looked down at your feet, swaying side to side, awaiting to hear the responses from your two favorite men.

“Hooly dooly, love.” Junkrat said flabbergasted. “You did all of this, for us?” You nodded your head, making your way over to him and gave him a big hug. “To you.” You signed. Junkrat looked back at his stack of fairy bread, practically drooling over. “This is fantastic love, you’re the best, sweets! Wow, you really do live up to that nickname, don’tcha? Sweets to the sweet as the old sayin goes!” He took a piece of bread, sprinkles already starting to fall off the top. “Oi, Roadie, bettah start munchin on this, Y/N probably took forever to make this all fo-“ He was cut off as he turned his head to face Roadhog, expression immediately gone from happy to worried.

There was Roadhog, still sitting there, staring at his stack of fairy bread. Not moving, not budging, mouth slightly agape. He was completely froze, save for the staggering anxious breaths he breathed out. He tried to remain still but felt this new wave of anxiousness override his body and started to shake. Junkrat, leaned back in his seat, not knowing of what his partner would do. Junkrat never recalled a time ever in his life seeing Roadhog this distressed and perturbed. It was almost as if the big guy saw a ghost that gave him a spook. It almost gave the younger junker a spook himself.

You now looked just as worried as Junkrat, wanting to be by Roadhog’s side, but not wanting to interfere if he needed space. The both of you watched as Roadhog reached a gigantic palm out to grab a piece of fairy bread, and trembled even more as he brought it closer to him. He opened and closed his eyes a few times, making sure if what he was seeing was real or not. He opened and closed a few more times, just to be for certain. The next few times he opened and closed was when he felt warm wet streaks glide down slowly on his cheeks. He took a bite into the bread, tasting the sugary sweet beads of the sprinkles, the smooth creamy texture of the margarine and the flakey yet satisfying starch of the bread. All at once, the memories came flooding back into his head.

“Mako…”

He shoved more bread into his mouth, like a starving dingo.

“Mako?...”

Crumbs and sprinkles were scattering all around his feet and chair.

“MAKO!...”

He slammed his fist into the table and sobbed out loud uncontrollably. He remembered who he was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A rather large woman with long dark braided hair, a long white farm apron on top a floral patterned mumu dress, waddled her way through the dirt path of her small one cottage, two barn farmland, carrying a plate of fairy bread and being accompanied by a tiny trotting micro piglet, snorting and squealing merrily as it followed it’s master.

“Mako?” the woman cried out. “Mako!”

Making her way inside one of the barns, she opened the barn doors and looked all around the inside, finally catching glimpse of who she was trying to find. A small chubby boy curled up in a fetel position, laying on a big pile of hay, sniffling and lightly sobbing. Her expression softened with sympathy as she sighed and waddled her way to her son. When she got to him, she slowly tried to sit on the pile of hay with him, almost getting winded and out of breath. However, this didn’t seem to phase her and trying to comfort the little one.

“Taku tama,” she said softly. “Why are you all dirty?”

“Kaiwhakaweti…” a young Mako hiccupped.

“Karanga ahau poaka….toru paru…” he peeked his chubby face up at his mother, revealing that his face was too covered in mud along with the rest of his clothes. His mother took part of her apron and lifted the boys chin up to face her, wiping away the debris of mud and tears off his face. He still sniffled lightly and looked up at his mother completely torn and broken hearted.

“Mako, He hae ratou I to aura,” she began to speak in their native tongue. “He poto noa iho te hunga whakaweti.” Mako looked up at his mother intently, listening and holding on to every single word. “Tuhinga ka whai mai. Engari ko te aroha me te tiaki mai I te whanau me nga hoa ka mau tonu.”

Mako stared at her wide eyed and continued to listen.

“Ma te whanau e tiaki koe.” She continued. “Ana ka tae ki tetahi ra me tiaki e koe.”

Mako looked down at the micro piglet now sitting in front of him, still happily and snorting away.

His mother picked up the piglet, and placed the adorable snorting baby in his lap, planting a kiss on his forehead. “Kia maumahara ki taku tama,” she said softly. Mako looked up from petting his piglet.

“Nui toku aroha ki a koe…” She picked up the plate of fairy bread and handed it to him. He smiled and happily ate the bread with his little piglet taking small nibbles out of a few pieces. He felt so much better now, he felt as if he could stand on top of the tallest mountains and swim across the deepest and farthest of oceans. He felt as if every little worry on his mind was fading into each bite of fairy bread his mama made especially for him. He felt all the cares and worries and griefs dry away along with his tears. He chewed and chewed and he felt…. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miserable…he felt miserable. His fist was balled tightly on the cracked table top. His hair was out of his pony tail and his eyes were red with puff and irritation. You and Junkrat were huddled together in a corner at the very oppisite end of the room were Roadhog was. You had tears stream down your face and you hiccuped a few anxious breaths. Rat on the other hand held on to you, practically sheilding you from the gigantic man in fear of what he might do next.

Mako unballed his fist slowly and shaking, revealing the wad of sprinkles and crumbs in his massive palm. His breaths were deep and asthmatic.

More flashbacks appeared in his head, more of his mother, the omnics taking over, the Australian Liberation Front, Bruce the Engineer supplying him with his “Hogsygen”, the shitty queen and her shitty people practically dancing on top the countless graves uncaring of how they died protecting their land. It all came back to him, and it all came back to him in that slowly unballing crumbling piece of fairy bread.

You didn’t mean to, but a loud sob slipped from your vocal chords and you ran to Roadhog, so concerned and apologetic for placing him in such a wretched state. You ran right to his side and cried over his shoulder. You didn’t know how to put into words that you were so sorry for making him so upset. He slowly looked up at you, his eyes still red and puffy but he took you in his arms, perhaps to quickly and harshly.

Junkrat imediately ran over thinking that you were in some sort of danger. But as quickly as he ran, he stopped. He saw his partner take your hands into his large ones and placed them over his face. Your thumbs wiping away the tears out of his eyes. You looked at him full of fear and wonder, and watched as he leaned his head into your hands, like a cat in need of affection. Junkrat, taking a deep breath of relief walked over to his two partners and placed an awkward pat on Roadhog’s shoulder.

“Uh there…there, mate,” Junkrat said softly trying to in his own way express sympathy on behalf of his depressed partner. “Yea sometimes, we all need a good cry now and again…you jus’ let it all out…”

Roadhog took the opportunity to pull his lanky partner in with you and him in a warm loving embrace. It startled Junkrat at first but then warmed up to it when you placed your hand onto his arm. There, the three of you were, at the kitchen table, holding on to one another, comforting your much bigger partner and letting him cry out the last of his tears.

“Toku whanau…” he stuttered softly. Both you and Junkrat looked at him, with your hands placed back onto his warm wet face. “I love you with all of my heart and soul. And I will protect you always. Tena kaua e wehi I ahua…”

He took you and pulled you in for a deep kiss. And he did the same for Junkrat, although this took the junker off guard but was more than happy to reciprocate his feelings. He had you both on either side of his lap. And the three of you cuddled together there all the while. You signed to him when he looked back up to you. “I’m so sorry…”

“No aroha, s’not your fault,” he said. “It was overwhelming, yeah, but I loved it…a lot. Haven’t had it in a…long time.” His head leaned onto your chest, and you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, well how’s about the next time Y/N gives us a surprise, you don’t have another mental breakdown arroight?” Junkrat replied jokingly.

“Yeah that sounds good,” Hog replied as he chuckled.

The three of you stayed like this for a little while longer, uncaring of the mess at the table. Uncaring of all the sprinkles and crumbs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Maori dialouge in English:

“My son” “Bullies…called me a pig…threw mud…” “Mako, they are jealous of your aura. Bullies are fleeting. Bullies will come and go. But the love and protection from your family and friends is forever. The family will take care of you. And then one day, you will need to protect them. Remember my son, I love you so much.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~ “My family.” “Please don’t fear me.”

#poly!roadrat #Roadrat #junkrat and roadhog #roadhog and junkrat #overwatch jamison fawkes #overwatch mako rutledge #overwatch fanfic #overwatch junkers #self insert x canon #self insert fic

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sidespromptblog · 5 years ago

Text

Comfort

Main Story: One and Two (End)

One-shots: Confrontation (Virgil) and The Reveal

Summary: After getting tricked into showing up for Thomas, Logan returns to Deceit and Remus for a little rest and relaxation.

And also to demolish his room, and start from scratch completely leaving the others behind.

Warnings: Remus being a nasty gremlin, Kissing (Deceit and Remus really like to kiss Logan okay, he’s pretty), Mentions of NSFS (not safe for sanders, literally Remus teases Deceit and gets cut off that’s it), Angst (Logan), and Home decoration (one of these things is not like the other).

Word Count: 5114

AO3 LINK

“What about this color?” Remus asked passing Deceit the color card he had summoned from the top of his head, right after he had just shoved a handful of cracker jacks into his mouth. “It’s pretty neat yeah?” He said, making crumbs cascade onto the counter where he was standing, knowing that the entire time it was slowly pissing Deceit off to keep wiping up his messes or just to vanish them even though they both knew that he could do it with little to no issue.

It was no different than how they usually acted with one another, with the only difference being… Remus was eating his weight in cracker jacks out of sheer nervousness that he refused to openly admit to. All because Logan had gotten called away to help Thomas with whatever issue he was having, they both refused to admit it, but… neither of them had taken their gaze off of the door leading to the lights. Just in case Logan decided to come back that way instead of just rising up, they had been standing in the kitchen for a good hour. They didn’t know what to do, everything they could have done… including the things that they usually did before Logan had come into their arms seemed… not good enough. As it took them just out of eyesight with that door.

Nevertheless, that certainly didn’t stop Deceit from flicking the color card away. “That’s the color of your room dearest, and you only got it that shade because you’ve got years of junk layering it and have refused to wash it since.” He smirked at Remus’ pout, their nervousness and worry only being kept down by the light banter, and borderline flirting that they were doing. “You know that Logan wouldn’t like that shade, he’s more into blue and you know it.” He crooned as he leaned forward, flicking a piece of dried caramel off the corner of Remus’ mouth.

Without even thinking about it, the creative side in question seized Deceit’s hand licking at one of the patches of scales on his exposed wrist. Just to openly laugh mirthfully at the full-body shudder that Deceit gave at the feeling of his slimy tongue against his clean skin.

“Well,” He purred against those fingers, as regardless of his disgusting transgressions, Deceit rubbed his cheek in the exact way that he knew would make Remus roll over for him like an overzealous dog. “Neither of you seemed to be complaining last night when I had you pinned against it with Logan watching as I-”

What happened next almost the both of have a heart attack and faint all in one go. As completely out of nowhere, two arms curled around Deceit’s middle and a face pressed itself flush against the back of the dishonest side’s neck breathing heavily and deeply. All while the fingers idly played with the buttons on Deceit’s top, as if that alone would distract from both Deceit and Remus’ galloping hearts that felt as if they had just run a marathon and then jogged an extra fifteen miles at the sheer suddenness of what had happened.

In all honesty, though, Deceit had forced himself to chomp down on his tongue just so that he hadn’t screamed when he had felt the arms circling him.

“Logan?” Deceit worriedly asked concern stampeding through his veins as instead of answering, Logan merely tightened his grip around the dishonest side, nestling his face even more against the back of his neck. “What happened dearest?” If he could have, Deceit would have turned around to envelop Logan with his arms, wrap all six of them around Logan and only let him go when it was Remus’ turn to cuddle their nerd. He had no idea about what had happened, although judging just from how Logan was acting… it couldn’t have been good.

A sigh rippled through the logical side, and without even thinking he slumped against Deceit as Remus’ fingers curled through his hair. Running from the tip of his scalp down to the back of his neck.

Closing his eyes at the gentle pressure of Remus’ fingers, he could almost forget everything that had happened today. How Patton had almost trash-talked his lovers, and how certain he was that Deceit and Remus were toxic for him. How despite everything he had said, Virgil hadn’t been able to stop the others from intervening in his new life. How they had tricked him into showing up, just so that they could make his about ‘how much they missed him’. And… How the look of regret on Thomas’ face really hadn’t made him feel any better, despite being happy right where he was.

He wanted to forget it all, even if the day hadn’t been a complete and total failure.

Remus shifted behind him, and those fingers that had been massaging his scalp slowly moved to rub up and down his back. “Logan?” The creative side asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft in this moment of weakness for all of them. “What happened today? What… what did they do? Did they hurt you?”And finally, much more softly… “Talk to us Lo, we’re here…”

Just the sheer weight of both Remus’ and Deceit’s words combined made Logan want to crumble into a weak pile of mushy emotions and feelings, and it was a weight he most certainly did not want to give into right now. Just the idea of openly admitting that he was feeling hurt, that he was feeling sad, or just feeling, in general, made him want to instinctively pull away from it all. To just sink into the numbness that he was so used to being in before, he wanted that again… just to have words both kind and hurtful alike to just roll off of him again. Except… that couldn’t happen if Deceit and Remus were worrying about him.

Peeking over Deceit’s shoulder, Logan eyed the color cards that the two dark sides had been looking at before he had shown up.

“You’ve been looking at color cards without me?” It was a poor and shitty attempt to change the subject away from what he was currently feeling, so poor in fact… that he could practically feel the irritation rolling off of Deceit and Remus in waves. That and their eyerolls, as he tried to avoid the subject of emotions in general. It had never been his strong suit, and now… in the presence of the two people who knew his weakest spots…

He couldn’t help but to feel completely helpless against them.

A rough growl bubbled in Remus’ chest, so loud that Logan could feel the vibrations of his chest against his back. “Logan,” The creative side began, as his fingers curled back up towards the nape of his neck, his brushing over the logical side’s pulse point and the dark muted purple of the hickey that either Remus or Deceit had left the previous night. “Don’t... “ He softly warned, not necessarily as a threat to Logan… but as a desperate plea for the other side to just stop trying to run…

For Logan to stop running from them.

Just the feeling of Remus’ gentle fingers against those love spots on his neck made Logan weak, like a dish of butter that had been left out too long and had grown soft from the warmth. His hands trembled where he held Deceit, and his lips which had previously formed a smirk to hide it all away, not trembled as the well of emotions threatened to be his undoing. He couldn’t fight them, not in the same way that he had always fought the others.

Not them.

Never them.

“It was a trick,” Logan mumbled into Deceit’s neck.

Just for Remus to blink back at him, clearly bewildered and more than a little confused about just what Logan meant by what he had just said to them.

“A trick,” The creative side parroted back, sharing a concerned look with Deceit as Logan finally let the dishonest side go, just to nonchalantly play with the color cards that he and Deceit had been bickering over before Logan had come back. “A trick? What kind of trick? Like when you saw off someone’s leg and put it back? Making someone disappear? What kind of trick did they pull on you?” Remus asked, with each second that Logan didn’t answer getting more and more peeved at the side that had once dared to call Logan a part of their family. “What did they do Logan?” He could feel his blood starting to boil, and his teeth to sink the sharp spikes of his morning star right into someone’s flesh or skull.

He wasn’t all that picky, to be honest. So long as someone’s blood spilled this fine fine day.

An irritated huff left Logan, “They asked Thomas to call for me, so that I’d think that he needed me for something. But he didn’t, he didn’t need me…” Logan tried to hide it, but the sniffle that came through got to them anyways, as the logical side’s eyes shiny with tears yet to be shed glared down at the counter. “I went for nothing, I got ready for nothing, and I… I fucking cared for nothing.” He growled, unable to stop the whimper that was crawling up in his throat. “It was all for nothing…”

In that moment alone, as Remus felt a dark pit of something grow in his belly… he had never before felt hate like he did now.

His lips curled in a dissatisfied snarl that left him wanting to snap at anything he could, if only just to shed their blood and make them feel even the tiniest sliver of the hurt that Logan was. He wanted to pound their head into the concrete floor, until their wails of pain became nothing more than the sound of gurgling as they choked on their own blood. He wanted them to drown in their pain, until it was the only thing that they could see and feel. He wanted them to scream, until their voice box blooded and broken wouldn’t even allow them to make so much as a croaking noise. He wanted… he wanted…

He wanted them to stop.

In an instant Deceit shot him a dead serious look, a look that told him he would be staying right there. And precisely NOT carving his way through the light sides until his blood lust was satiated, just so that he could bring Logan back all of their hearts on a stick no matter how much he wanted to. A part of him wanted to growl at Deceit, to bare his teeth and go anyways just to show the other side that he could do exactly that. However, the pointed look and Deceit’s arms already curling around Logan’s back stopped him dead in tracks.

He wouldn’t be going anywhere today, for any reason.

“Logan,” He began, his leg jiggling up and down where he stood until he had the logical side’s attention directly on him. “What do you want to do then? We’re here, and we’re not going to leave. So… what would you like to do?” Be it revenge, murder, or just nothing at all… Remus would do it, he’d let Logan carve out his heart and eat it in front of him if that was what the logical side so desired.

Regardless if it broke him in the process.

He’d let even give him the knife to do it with.

Wiping his hands over his eyes though, Logan sighed one of those deep bone-weary sighs that made Remus want to whine again. “I just… I want to forget about it all.” He grumbled, sounding thoroughly done with all of the others. “I want to fix up my room, and just relax for once without having them bother me. I want to have a peaceful day with my two lovers, and forget the idiots who don’t have anything better to do.” Logan finally said, finally lifting his eyes up from the counter so that he could look at his partners.

That was easy enough, Remus decided as he nodded.

The tiny smile on Logan’s face said it all, and he’d fight to keep that smile there.

“So…” Deceit trailed off, “Do you know what you want to do with your room?”

Without even the slightest hint of hesitation, Logan nodded as an almost sly smirk curled onto his lips. It was the kind of smirk that made Deceit’s toes and fingertips tingle, and made Remus all too eager to sink his teeth into Logan’s shoulder again.

“Yes, I know exactly where to start.” Logan began and with one wave of his hand every little thing was gone, “From the ground up!”

Every book was gone, every shelf, every scrap of paper, and even the floors and walls so that the only thing that was in the space that used to be Logan’s room… was a blank white space. And while Logan was still grinning that proud little smile, Deceit shot a look at Remus seeing his own concern mirrored there. They had both sort of expected that Logan would want to change a few things around, perhaps a new color for his walls, or just some different posters and books. Not… taking every little thing away and starting anew like this, it was a little surprising to say the least.

Not that they were complaining, this just meant that… Logan was taking to being a dark side a whole lot faster than either of them had thought that he would be.

However, he couldn’t help but to start a little as soon as Logan’s hands slipped into both of theirs, “Now,” the logical side began giving them both a squeeze as genuine warmth filled his voice as he gazed at them with far more affection than either of them ever really deserved. “What do you two suggest? I’m personally partial to my old blue, but with a little bit of a twist. What do you think?”

There was a beat of silence, and then…

“You want our help?” Deceit couldn’t help the surprise that colored his tone, he honestly just couldn’t. Even Virgil hadn’t wanted their help when he had first formed, he had been determined to do it by himself and not listen to a single bit of advice that came from them, regardless if it was actually good advice.

Logan though, Logan simply blinked back at the dishonest side’s confusion and surprise as if Deceit’s outburst was the most confusing thing he had seen all day.

“Of course,” Logan gently murmured, as his thumb ran over the other’s exposed knuckles and the patches of scales that dotted his hand. “I want you two to be comfortable in my room should you two ever decide to sleep here, and I value your opinion on what would look good and what wouldn’t. So yes Dee… I would very much like your help.” The soft look that came from the logical side was almost enough to make Deceit’s knees quake. “So I am asking… will the both of you help me with my room?”

“Yes!” Remus blurted out without even giving Deceit anytime to make the red scarlet that had dusted itself over his cheeks, time enough to fade so that half of his face didn’t look like he had gotten a sunburn. “So long as I can decorate the bathroom!” Just from the grin on Remus’ face, he could very well tell that whatever he had in mind… it would either be needlessly crude, or just downright disgusting.

But even so…

“It must be hygienic,” Logan interrupted as if waiting a second too long would make Remus’ ideas come to life right before his very eyes, letting go of their hands, Logan squished Remus’ cheeks together before leaning in so that Remus had nowhere to look but his eyes. “Hygienic Remus, by my standards okay? You can do whatever else, but it must be a clean and functioning bathroom, okay. At least that.” He said, giving Remus’ cheeks one last squeeze together before finally letting them go, although… if the creative side’s flustered look was anything to go by…

He wouldn’t have minded if Logan had done it again.

Without even a moment of hesitation, Remus’ arms locked around Logan’s waist sending the logical side crashing into his chest. Burying his nose into the other side’s neck Remus inhaled deeply, breathing in all of the scents that served to perfectly make up his dear logical side. He could have stood there for hours taking in that smell. That comforting smell aroma of freshly cut grass, of ink, of the rosy shampoo that Logan had been borrowing from Deceit, and just… everything that made Remus weak in the knees for their resident smart ass. Then without so much as a moment’s notice, Remus’ hands slipped down, easily grasping ahold of Logan’s ass giving it a firm squeeze.

“I like it when you talk serious to me,” He mouthed into Logan’s neck, thoroughly enjoying the pink hue that had taken over the tips of Logan’s ears. “But you can trust me, Dame, I’ll make everything… just right.” And with one last squeeze, he all too easily slips past Logan making his way to what used to be the bathroom of Logan’s room.

But not before, giving Deceit a similar gesture of his love, delighting in the startled squeak of a noise that leaves his other lover’s mouth.

“So then,” Logan says as he clears his throat, obviously trying to get the remains of the blush to vacate his face. “Why don’t we start with the floor?”

It feels like hours later when his room is finally done.

The carpeted floors that he used to have are nowhere to be seen, instead, it was a nice dark cherry wood is what he and Deceit decided on. Even the ceiling is different, reflecting the starry night sky that was on Logan’s face, so that he could fall asleep to it every night without having to go to the imagination for such a sight. His walls though had retained a slightly darker version of the blue that they had once been painted as before, the pictures that had hung on them before nowhere to be seen. Even the shelves that had once been full of books feel a little barren to him now with only Roman’s Christmas gift on it, although Logan was certain that over time he’ll fill them up well enough with memories and books the more years that he spends with Remus and Deceit. The layout of his room is largely the same, only this time with his new massive bed pushed against the wall. Remus could never stand to have his back facing the open when he slept, so it was no trouble to Logan to help him fix that particular problem.

His room feels bigger now, like there was way too much space for just one side to be now that it was less cluttered with all of the things that Patton and the others had given him. It felt… almost intimidating to fill, but it was his to fill.

Nobody else’s.

Logan jolts a little as Deceit’s hand slips into his, “It looks great dearest,” The other side tells him, his honesty on full display for Logan. This time it’s Deceit’s thumb that runs over Logan’s knuckles as if comforting the logical side in the choices that had led him to this moment, “You did this Logan, all of this. You made it.”

He had though, hadn’t he?

Even with Deceit and Remus’ help, he had picked out his own style, his new form, and even his bedroom so that it suited him more than his old ways had. It didn’t matter if he had needed help, or if it had felt impossible at the very start of things, what mattered was that he had actually done it. He had put everything that had been holding him back before… truly behind him, so that he could focus on only the positives in his life now, and focusing on trying to get better. He had done it, no matter how difficult it had been to start.

He had done it.

Glancing over to Deceit, Logan felt something warm worming its way into his chest. And without even thinking, he tugged the other side close, wrapping his arms around him so that he could kiss the top of Deceit’s head.

“Thank you,” He honestly told the other, no amount of running from his feelings could hide this from Deceit or himself, “Thank you so so much, Dee, you don’t even know-” Cutting himself off, Logan leaned down again, pressing their lips tight against one another until he felt the dishonest side go lax against him. “Thank you, for caring… and thank you for loving me the way that you do.” He whispered, giving the other side only a moment to breathe before their lips met again, Deceit’s fingers practically clawing at his back in an effort to keep their kiss going and keep his warmth with him.

Logan didn’t need to be told twice though, as he backed the other side towards the bed, trailing his harsh rough kisses down the dishonest side’s neck sucking his own mark there. It was big and obvious for anyone who happened to even glance at Deceit, even with his raised collar it wouldn’t be enough to hide it. Not that either of them were complaining about that, they all delighted in putting their own marks on each other as if to say. ‘I am here… I am here for you and I will always be here for you even after this mark fades away.’ He had never been much of a romantic, but with these two…

He was starting to become one, and maybe that wasn’t so bad.

Looking down at Deceit, at his flushed cheeks and flustered expression… he definitely could get used to being a romantic...

“I finished the bathroom!” Remus declared triumphantly as he slammed open the bathroom door as if he had just gotten done wrestling with a lion. A green lion if the state of his person was anything to go by. “I demand payment,” He grinned, the green flecks and splatters of paint completely covering the side of his face, as if he had decided to take a nap in the paint bucket instead of actually doing his work. His eyes zeroed in on the new bed, a new kind of energy taking him over. “And to be the first one on the bed, but first payment.” He wiggled, that restless energy finally coming to a stop in front of Logan as he leaned down for the logical side clearly expecting a kiss for his valiant efforts.

The fondness that swept through Logan at the sight of the paint-splattered creative side almost took his breath away. Just looking at him and into his playfully glinting maroon eyes, Logan could only feel the warmth of what could only be described as love.

However, knowing Remus..

Logan leaned up as if he were about to meet those green painted lips of his. “You’ll get your reward my love,” He whispered, grinning to himself as he saw just how eager Remus really was for his kiss, and just how much Remus was really holding himself back from just stealing a kiss from Logan. “When I see what on earth you’ve done to my bathroom.”

The whine that left Remus’ lips was almost laughable.

But regardless of any pouting he could do, Remus crossed his arms as he led Logan back to where he had just trekked paint from. Although, if the impossibly proud look in his eyes had anything to say about it, then it couldn’t be too bad, what he had done. Right?

Right?

“Did you replace my towel rack with dildos?!” Logan exclaimed, given that it was the first thing that he noticed the very moment that he stepped into the new bathroom. Just the sheer oddity of it, had almost reached out and slapped him across the face. “Why?” He wasn’t angry but he also couldn’t help but to almost demand an answer, as he ran his fingers through his messy hair, confusion perplexing him more than anything.

Remus practically skipped over to the offending items, tapping them so that they wiggled in a very not good manner that made Logan want to avert his eyes forever. “Just in case you got lonely without us!” The creative side gleefully stated, clearly a little more than ecstatic about Logan’s reactions to his creative pursuits in his bathroom. He definitely looked proud, with his fingers eagerly jittered and his body continued to wiggle happily.

Logan got the feeling that this was the first time in a very… very long time that anyone had ever let Remus do anything creatively in something that wasn’t his own room.

But even so… Logan couldn’t help but to sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Remus…” Logan uttered the other side’s name with a sigh he so desperately tried to keep from being exhaustion, for fear of actually hurting Remus’ feelings on the matter of his ‘creative liberties’. But even so... “I will be able to live a few hours or even a couple of days without being in the same bed as you and Dee. I won’t die.” He tried to explain, hoping more than anything that the pure logic of their situation would resolve itself.

Remus, however, seemed to deflate a little, his previous energy shriveling to something so small that internally Logan wanted to take it all back.

Remus let his hands fall flat against his side, “So…” The creative side mumbled, in the kind of voice that made Logan almost squirm. “Do you want me to get rid of them?”

Looking at them Logan felt divided on the subject at hand, logically… he had no use for them. They were dildos and lord knows he would never use one of them for their intended purposes, no matter how much Remus had joked about the topic. However… Remus had put them there, he had put them there and had been proud of them, proud of the one thing that he had been allowed to do and help in his own way. He really really didn’t want them there in the way that they were now, but…

“How about this,” Grasping Remus’ green stained hand and cringingly to himself at the mess that stained his fingers, Logan quirked a tiny little smile, the kind of smile that was reserved mainly for Deceit and Remus. “Why don’t you paint them with glow in the dark paint? Or make them into lights, it’ll be an interesting art project and I’ll keep them up.” As Remus’ manic grin started to return, slowly at first he added. “I won’t use them in the way that you’re suggesting Remus, but I can… aesthetically appreciate them. Will that be good?”

It was good, wasn’t it? Compromising instead of just demanding that he have his way and making someone else feel awful? It was good, he was good… right?

For just a second there was a moment of silence, in where Remus’ face was completely unreadable for Logan. But not before in less than a second, Remus’ arms had once again found their way around his waist seizing him flush against the other side, although this time instead of just resting there the Duke used his strength to physically lift the logical side. Just to bury his face into the others breast bone, squeezing him so very tight as he spun him around regardless of the paint staining his clothing getting all over Logan in the process. The squeal of glee that left Remus, made Logan pause in the noise of alarm that was about to leave his lips as he caught a glimpse of the truly happy expression all over Remus’ face.

“I’ll give you truly stellar dicks my dear dear Dame, I’ll paint stars all over them and make them glow in the dark for you!” Remus eagerly chattered, the fire in his eyes burning more brightly than ever before, as he practically threw Logan over his shoulder keeping a rather firm grip on both Logan and his legs so that he wouldn’t fall down his back and land on his head. “It’ll be perfect for you,” He proudly declared as he kissed the side of Logan’s stomach, given that it was the only part available to him. All while silently relishing in the shiver that ran through Logan at his touch. “But first...” He purred, making a beeline out of the bathroom and towards the new bed.

Deceit had already seated himself on it, perfectly in the middle waiting for them a shit-eating grin on his face if there ever was one.

“But first…” Deceit mimicked, that grin curling even wider.

Logan didn’t fight as Remus threw him onto the massive bed, and he didn’t fight it as Deceit climbed over the pillows and blankets to make his way to Logan’s face. His kisses no more than feathery soft butterfly kisses being peppered all over his face and lips, Logan eagerly kissing back when he could. Just for Remus to join in on the foray, as the creative side caressed Logan’s palms, placing his own gentle kisses on each one of the logical side’s digits before moving to his wrist and up his arm. Logan could only lay there as his two lovers covered him in kisses, his eyes fluttering shut at the sheer gentleness of it all.

This wasn’t like their first night, where he had woken up with hickies up and down his body. Where they had all lost themselves in the passion of coming together for their first time, this… this was something different.

“Just relax,” Deceit whispered against his lips, as his fingers threading Logan’s hair as his nails ran against the logical side’s scalp, all while Remus’ hands pushed up Logan’s shirt exposing enough of his soft stomach for the creative side to kiss. This felt different than their usual kisses, this felt almost like… “And just let us love you just as you deserve.” Remus mouthed against his side, only smiling when he felt the tense muscles in Logan’s body, muscles that had been tense ever since he had come back from the lights, finally relax.

And under their caring and watchful gaze… and lips, Logan finally closed his eyes.

At peace.

#logan sanders #ts logan #ts logan sanders #dark side!logan #deceit sanders #ts deceit #sympathetic deceit #ts deceit sanders #remus sanders #ts remus #ts remus sanders #sympathetic remus #intruloceit #ts sanders sides #ts sides #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #ts sanders sides fanfiction

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years ago

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But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 9: Follow The Rules]

Hi y’all, I hope you are all doing well 💜

Chapter summary: Veronica has some questions, Roger has a plan, John has a short temper.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, medical stuff, pregnancy.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @bookandband @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @stardust-killer-queen

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

At the wedding, Roger is wearing a cast on his right arm and a dazzling smile...and a white suit that he looks criminally good in.

John is in black, Brian in blue, Freddie in maroon-colored velvet and heavy eyeliner. Veronica’s dress is high-waisted and falls in huge, billowing, shapeless ruffles to hide her silhouette. Her family knows, of course—it’s written all over the tense, grim lines of their mouths and the blades their pale eyes hurl at John—but none of those strict Catholics are going to mention an out-of-wedlock pregnancy in God’s house, nor at the modest reception in the church basement that follows the ceremony.

Veronica’s mother and aunts and sisters are just like her, docile and milky-skinned and small-boned, and you’ve helped them deck the vast room with enough flowers, ribbons, candles, and balloons to make everyone forget this event was thrown together in five weeks and on a shoestring budget. There’s a simple buffet with pot roast and potatoes and vegetables, a live band (some of John’s old friends from high school), and a homemade Polish honey cake baked by Veronica’s grandmother situated regally on a china serving dish. Veronica and John cycle through the tables of guests, smiling and nodding and thanking them for coming, dutifully and yet also seemingly genuinely cheerful.

“The boning is bloody impaling me,” Chrissie murmurs as she tugs at the bodice of her gown. It’s satin and a muted pink, just like yours and Mary’s and Veronica’s sisters’. “If I happen die, wrap me in one of those nice tablecloths I paid for and throw me in a ditch somewhere, will you love?”

“You got it.” You stab a piece of potato with your fork. “This should inspire you to be especially compassionate towards your own bridesmaids! Maybe no horrid shiny green.”

Brian chuckles. “Good luck with that.”

“Are you comfortable?!” Chrissie asks Mary, exasperated, fanning herself with a wedding program.

“I am,” Mary admits cautiously. “But...well...at the moment, I think my dress is a bit...roomier.”

Chrissie moans, dropping her face into her hands. “I always gain when the students go home for summer. My routine is wrecked, all I want to do is read Glamour magazines and listen to records, it’s too damn hot to go walking...and I adore ice cream.”

“I like you just fine,” Brian reassures her.

Freddie snickers as he taps his cigarette against an ashtray. “Yes, we’re all well aware of your anatomical preferences, Bri.”

Chrissie rolls her eyes. “Please do not elaborate.” She’s not offended—she’s far too used to Freddie’s shenanigans to be offended—but she’ll be embarrassed if he makes a scene at a wedding.

“Darling, I don’t care what anyone tries to tell you, plenty of men love a little extra meat on the bones. Particularly the ass bones.”

“We’re in God’s house!” you scold him in a hiss. “You’re going to give Great Aunt Zofia over there an aneurysm if she hears you!”

Roger quips: “Great Aunt Zofia stole the last kielbasa right out of my disabled, ineffectual grasp, so fuck her.”

You all burst into shocked, uncontrollable laughter. Great Aunt Zofia squints judgmentally at the commotion from several tables away, gnawing on her kielbasa; she’s been glaring at John and Veronica—the Tetzlaffs’ very own fallen angel—since she first ambled into the church. Roger rocks back in his chair, smoking with his unbroken left arm, smirking cockily and basking in the distraction from the real world that the wedding has gifted you all tonight. He catches you watching him—marveling at him, truthfully—and winks.

John appears and rests his hands on the back of your chair. “What’s so amusing? I swear, I leave you people alone for two hours and you’re having all sorts of fun without me, I won’t stand for it!”

“It was a lovely ceremony,” you tell him. “I’d forgotten how beautiful Catholic weddings are, all the music and ambiance.”

“And from what I saw, you knew most of the words.”

“We have a lot of Irish people in Boston. Saint Patrick’s Day is bigger than Christmas.”

John points at Roger’s cast. “It’s not paining you too much, is it?”

Roger holds his Dark ‘n Stormy aloft, and ice clinks in the misted glass. “Enough of these, and I can’t feel anything. Numb to the world’s many disappointments. I highly recommend it.”

“Noted,” John replies. Roger has pills for his arm, but they only take the edge off. You don’t know that because he’s told you; Roger never tells you that he’s hurting, that he’s frustrated, that he’s afraid. He wears grins and flippant humor like a second skin, shrouding his wounds—both physical and disembodied, old and new—in darkness. Still...you can see all those words he doesn’t say swimming in the depths of his eyes. “I think I’ll hunt down a Manhattan myself.”

“Dad made an impression!” you tell John enthusiastically. “I’ll have to let him know, he’ll be overjoyed.”

“He mixes a good one, that’s for sure. I doubt Cousin Bartosz will be able to compare.” He casts a glance at a perplexed-looking, flame-haired teenager manning a tiny wet bar.

“Booze won’t help you heal,” Freddie informs Roger, checking his reflection in Mary’s makeup compact and fluffing his lustrous hair. “Eat your vegetables. Get more sleep. When do you start physical therapy, again?” Then, to you: “Darling, when does Roger start his therapy?”

Roger sighs. “I’ve got it handled, Fred.”

“Dear, don’t have a fit, I just want to make sure you’ll be ready—”

“I’ve got it handled,” Roger repeats, his tone a warning.

Brian breaks the tension with a toast, his Vesper jangling against Roger’s Dark ‘n Stormy. “I’m thrilled, honestly. Now I’m not the only one who’s ruined a tour.”

Roger grimaces. “Thanks, Bri.”

“Yes, let’s all have a turn,” Freddie mutters, sipping champagne. “Deaky can electrocute himself while fiddling with his amp, and then I’ll...what? Have my foot chewed off by an alligator in New Orleans? Get gored by a wild boar outside Atlanta? It just can’t be a boring maiming, that’s my only request.”

“Alaska has grizzlies, huge ones,” Brian suggests.

“Darling, in what dimension would my luxurious self ever end up in fucking Alaska?”

You shake your head, frowning down into your wine glass. It’s June now, the dead center of a crestfallen year: the rest of the Sheer Heart Attack Tour is cancelled, the record company is furious, and the band is broker than ever. Queen is supposed to start recording their next album—their last album, the record company insists, unless it happens to be a runaway success—in July, but you don’t know if Roger’s arm will be healed in time. None of you know that. You wonder if this really is God’s house, or at least one of his homes, sanctified piles of bricks and glass scattered across the globe; maybe you could ask Him where Queen’s future lies.

Veronica swoops in and dusts an airy kiss onto Mary’s cheek, and then Chrissie’s, and then yours. “Thank you so much,” she gushes. Her high cheekbones are flushed, her watery eyes sparkling. She’s in heaven, sinner or not. Her massive white dress swishes with every step. “We couldn’t have done it without you. And you’re next, Chris! I can’t wait.”

Chrissie smiles. She and Brian are getting married just before Christmas. “Yes, well, time will tell if we’ll be serving Christmas ham or canned beans.”

“And then Mary...” Veronica’s gaze migrates across the table. Mary’s been wearing a ring on her wedding finger since Queen returned from Japan, a simple gold band that once belonged to Freddie’s mother. “What about you, Y/N? Any plans? Then we’d all be hitched!”

Red wine spurts from your lips and you fumble for a cloth napkin. Roger doesn’t believe in marriage, and neither do you; not after only four months together, anyway. And yet...is there some part of you that can’t help but think of papers and rings when you get lost in his eyes, of promises of forever, of some way to tie yourself to him like vessels to a heart? Sure; and that’s a little wonderful, that’s a little terrifying. “Uh, uh, oh, oh no, definitely no plans whatsoever.”

“What bollocks!” Rog sneers. “Really, what’s the point if you’re not religious? Who needs a bloody piece of paper to prove they love someone?! ‘I care for you so much I need the government to know we’re together and the hassle of divorce fees to make me stay,’ what the fuck. I mean, uh, no offense John, Bri, uh...this is all well and good for you, but...ah...”

“It’s just not your scene. That’s fine, Rog,” Freddie says with a tad too much empathy. Mary doesn’t seem to notice.

“But you’ll want children at some point, won’t you?” Veronica asks you, almost pained. She’s not trying to be cruel, you realize; she genuinely can’t fathom the pinnacle of a woman’s life as anything but being a wife and mother.

“Theoretically, sure. One day. Eventually.” You titter nervously. Roger’s good arm circles your shoulders, his cigarette lofting smoke. Oh, but wouldn’t he make beautiful children? You push that thought away. It’s too soon, it’s too much, it’s not in the cards for an impoverished maybe-drummer and his girlfriend; and a girlfriend—with all the intangibility and impermanence that title entails—is all I’ll ever be. “I think I need to travel the world a bit more first.”

John sighs and pats the back of Veronica’s hand. What is that weight in his voice...impatience? Annoyance? “Ronnie, please, don’t bother her.”

Veronica sulks, scraping the old scuffed linoleum floor with her pointy white heels. “I wasn’t trying to bother anyone...”

Mary comes to the rescue: “No, of course not. You didn’t, dear.” She likes Veronica more than Chrissie does. Isn’t she oppressively vapid? Chrissie has asked you more than once. Isn’t she so miserably naïve? Veronica is sweet, sure, but she has no fucking idea what she’s in for. “Babies are wonderful, but they do make things harder, don’t you think? Especially for the mother. You have to be ready to drop everything for them. All your other interests and aspirations.”

“I suppose,” Veronica mumbles. You can tell she’s thinking: What other aspirations?

“But you must be so excited!” You beam up at Veronica. It’s her wedding day, and John’s; it should be happy, it should be optimistic. And you’re learning to like Veronica—less than Mary, but more than Chris—because you know that’s the best thing for John.

She instinctively rests her hand on the swell of her belly; or, rather, where it must be somewhere beneath all those heaps of satin and tulle. Great Aunt Zofia’s glare intensifies. “I’m scared to death, to tell you the truth.”

“Why?!” Mary cries.

“I’m so afraid something will happen to him.” Veronica’s voice is soft, her blue eyes glassy. She’s certain the baby is a boy, claims she had some sort of dream about it. “There’s a lot of bad luck going around for us, isn’t there? And my mother lost four babies. Any time he stops moving, I worry constantly until my next appointment. I haven’t felt anything in days, and I just...I just...” She trails off, staring vacantly across the crowded church basement. She’s trying not to cry, you realize.

“I can try to check for you,” you offer. “If it would make you feel better.”

“Really?” Veronica sounds hopeful, but guardedly so.

“This is embarrassing, but I carry my nurse kit almost everywhere I go now. That’s why I brought my huge blue purse even though it doesn’t match the dress. You know, you can’t be too careful...”

“Yes, who knows when someone will try something idiotic like jogging backwards down the stairs?” Freddie muses. Roger lobs a pierogi at him. Great Aunt Zofia wheezes out a disgusted huff and crosses her veiny, wrinkled arms over her sagging chest.

“I have a stethoscope,” you continue. “I can’t guarantee I’ll find a heartbeat, but I’ll give it a try if that would help.”

“Would you, Y/N?” Veronica clutches for John’s hand, and he lets her take it without any resistance; but he doesn’t seem to know how to comfort her. He has the same dazed look on his face that he has a lot these days, the same look that Bri and Freddie sometimes get: like they’re on autopilot, like they’re actively filtering through brainwaves to fish out any that wander astray. Roger lands a kiss on your bare shoulder and pitches you a playful smirk, his I’m so proud of my too-fucking-smart girlfriend smirk.

You grab your purse from beneath the table. “Does God’s house have a cozy private spot somewhere?”

Veronica leads you, Mary, and Chrissie to a small unoccupied room that is used (how pertinently) as the church nursery. The pink wallpaper is dotted with waddling ducklings, cloud-shaped sheep leaping over fences, smiling suns and winged cartoonish angels. Veronica settles into a faded blue couch, and Mary and Chris help her shove aside the massive plumes of her wedding dress to reveal the plain shift she’s wearing underneath. She’s over five months along now, and her entirely unremarkable bump seems colossal on her delicate frame.

You pop the headset into your ears and press the chestpiece against Veronica’s unyielding belly, gliding it over the pearly shift as you try different positions.

“Anything?” Mary asks anxiously.

“It’s not bloody instant, Mary!” Chrissie snaps. “Be quiet so she can listen.”

“No need to be cranky—”

“You can’t find a heartbeat, can you?” Veronica says, her voice quivering. “Oh god...”

“Found it,” you announce. You hold the chestpiece in place as you yank the headset off and pass it to Veronica.

She gapes at you. “You’re just saying that so I’ll stop worrying, aren’t you?”

“Hear for yourself.”

Veronica takes the headset and listens, closing her eyes as the rapid-fire and rhythmic swishing of her child’s heartbeat floods through her ears. “Oh,” she breathes, beaming. “There he is.”

“That’s incredible!” Mary trills. “Can I hear too, Veronica? Whenever you’re finished...”

Mary listens, and Chrissie does too, and then you all help touch up Veronica’s hair and makeup before you head back to the reception. The cake is due to be cut in twelve minutes. As you smooth the short train on her dress, Veronica turns back to you.

“Do you think I’m a bad person?” she asks timidly, hugging her belly. “You know...for this.”

“That’s something I’ve always liked about nursing. So many jobs require sorting out who’s right and wrong, casting judgment, assigning punishment. There’s no weighing of the moral scales in medicine. It doesn’t matter if a patient is trustworthy, deceitful, good, bad, worthy, undeserving, if they disappoint you, if they’re the ones who hurt themselves. You treat everyone, you heal everyone. And I would like to keep that part of myself for as long as I can.” You smile at Veronica. “But, for the record, no. I don’t think you’re a bad person at all.”

She sighs in relief, untethering an anchor she hadn’t even known she’d been dragging around by her throat. “Thank you,” she whispers, tears snaking down her powdered ivory cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on.”

“How do you feel about marble lion statues? You know, the ones at the end of long, winding driveways. Rich people’s driveways. Mansion driveways. Or do you prefer gargoyles?”

“Roger.”

He groans, grins, presses his right fist into your palm. You measure the force with your mind, with your muscle memory. He’s stronger than he was yesterday, the day before, last week. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Rog teases. “You’ve got a soft spot for damaged people. Helpless people. That’s why you warmed to Brian so quickly. He was lying there all gaunt and jaundiced and terrified, and you just couldn’t resist, you just had to make sure all his wildest dreams came true.”

“I have a soft spot for self-destructive musicians who end up in hospitals, evidently.” Your gaze cruises over the scar on Roger’s forearm where the surgeons popped his bones back into place, stabilized them, stitched the ragged gore closed. You hate looking at it; you hate reminders of how mortal Roger really is.

“I want lions,” Rog decides. “For the driveway of our eventual mansion. I like the Leo connection.”

“And the Queen crest connection.”

His grin widens, toothy and radiant. “See, I knew you were the love of my life.”

“Come on. Again.”

He winces this time. “Doesn’t hurt a bit.”

“Uh huh. I bet.” You’ve slathered his fresh blisters with numbing antiseptic ointment, iced his arm, administered pain medicine, allowed him the constant sips of alcohol necessary for him to work, to drum, to sleep. But he still hurts. You imagine he hurts all the fucking time.

It’s August now, and Queen is recording their fourth album at Rockfield Farm. You and Roger are sitting by the pool as Freddie splashes around in the clear chlorine-smelling water trying to get John’s attention. John, meanwhile, is lounging on an inflatable raft, wearing black sunglasses and most likely asleep. Brian circles the pool snapping photos with your Canon F-1.

“I have a plan,” Roger informs you as he starts his stretches without prompting. He knows the drill, even if he likes to be difficult about it.

“By all means, enlighten me.”

“Fred’s thing, the weird one. It has a name now.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“Oh, it’s perfect!” You try to stay out of the band’s business decisions as much as possible; it’s not your expertise, and it’s not your place, and there are already a few too many creative chefs in that kitchen. Still, you love when they share their magic with you. “Eccentric, whimsical, exhilarating. Just like the song. Just like Queen.”

“I’m so glad you approve. We’re going to make sure it’s the first single off the album. And I know exactly what song’s going to be on the B-side. Freddie and Bri don’t know yet, but I do.”

“Sounds like they’re going to murder you when they find out.”

“I’ll convince them.” His grin is crafty, daring. “Picture it: you’ve just finished the incomparable experience that is Bohemian Rhapsody. You’re a newly converted Queen enthusiast. What could possibly come next? You flip the record over. And the virile, screeching, pure rock and roll passion of I’m In Love With My Car is there to greet you.”

“Oh my god, Roger.” You shake your head in mock mourning. “They actually are going to murder you.”

“Listen, love, BoRhap is going to be a hit. I can feel it.”

“Sure,” you agree lukewarmly. You want to be supportive, you really do. But disappointment stings more than resignation.

“It will be,” Roger maintains, unmovable. “And it’ll sell mountains and mountains of singles...and with my song on the B-side, I’ll get half the royalties. Which means we’ll get half the royalties.”

“Which is how we end up with the hypothetical mansion.”

“I’m being serious.” Roger picks up his mini barbell weights from the water-splattered concrete and begins his bicep curls, flinching each time he lifts his right fist.

“Rog—”

“I’m fine,” he insists. “I’m going to make this happen. I’m going to get rich so I can provide for my family. You know about that, you know it’s on my list. And my family includes you now.”

“I don’t need a mansion, Roger.” I just need you. You stare at his right arm worriedly. “Are you sure—?”

“I’m fine!” he shouts, and you recoil. Brian peers over from where he’s taking pictures of blooming purple foxgloves. Instantly, Roger regrets it. “I’m sorry,” he says, setting down the barbells and cradling your face with his rough, bandaged hands. “I have to be fine, you know? I don’t have a choice. If I can’t play, I can’t be in the band. If I leave, John will leave too, and that’ll be the end of everything. Or worse, John will break the pact and stay and they’ll find a new drummer and forget all about me. Sail off into some blissful new future. And where will I be? Moping as I drag myself back to dental school? Becoming a freaking lab biologist? Resigning myself to being some excruciatingly ordinary bloke, someone who climbed just far enough out of Cornwall to know everything he’s missing out on?”

You try to imagine who Roger would be without the band, but you can’t. You’ve never known a pre-Queen Roger. “No,” you say, amused. “You’ll never be just some ordinary bloke. You’re too brilliant, too determined. Even if you do have a dodgy arm.”

He kisses you, and you can feel his lips curling into a smile beneath yours. “So you’ll let me buy you a mansion.”

“If you get I’m In Love With My Car on the B-side, and BoRhap is a hit, and Freddie and Bri don’t smother you with a pillow in your sleep...yes, you can buy me a mansion. Buy us a mansion.”

He winks, his sapphire eyes glinting in the late-summer sunlight. “Watch out, baby. I get everything I want eventually.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s done,” John tells the others as he passes out copies of his new song, the second he’s ever written. There are only four sheets of crisp white paper; as you watch from the studio couch, you wonder what the song is about, why he didn’t mention it to you.

“It’s done?!” Brian yelps. “What do you mean, it’s done?! Nothing’s ever done after the first pass! That’s how it works, that’s how it always works, someone suggests something and then we all dice it and slice it and flip it around and stitch it back together like the world’s most maniacal surgeons, and then, only then, maybe, it’s done.”

You glance up from where you’re sewing an eleventh patch onto Roger’s jeans. “Must we disparage the medical profession?”

“Sorry, love,” Roger tosses to you with a laugh.

“It’s done,” John repeats.

“Deaky, darling,” Freddie ventures gently. “We should endeavor to keep our minds open to collaboration—”

“Oh, should we, Fred?!” Bri exclaims. “How extraordinary, you never seem to encourage collaboration when it’s your song on the cutting floor!”

“Okay space boy, you listen here—”

“‘I’m happy at home’?!” Roger reads, revolted. “We’re not the bloody Bee Gees, Deaks!”

John explains measuredly and patiently, as if to a child: “That’s the way it goes. We record it as it is or not at all.”

“That’s not how we do things,” Brian mutters, deep frown lines chiseled through his face as he scans the lyrics.

“Then just fill the album with your and Fred’s songs like you always do, I’m sure that’ll keep me and Roger loyal.”

Brian glares at John. John stares back stoically, his eyes like steel. Brian looks to Roger for support; Roger lights a cigarette and pretends not to notice.

“Darling, please, you’re not being reasonable!” Freddie pleads.

“I need it.” John turns to Roger now. “I need it to stay the way it is.”

Rog just watches him for a while, exhales smoke, shrugs. “Okay,” he says at last.

“Okay?!” Brian howls. “What do you mean, okay?!”

“He said he needs it,” Roger replies simply.

Bri throws his hands into the air. “Bleeding christ! ‘He needs it.’ What rubbish! Do something, Fred!”

“Oh relax, darling.” Freddie sashays to the microphone and points to Brian’s Red Special. “Let’s try it out.”

“But—!”

Roger claps Brian on the back as he trots by him towards the drum kit. “Come on, Bri. Big smiles. Just picture the nice shiny pounds from all those album sales plinking into your bank account. You’ll have fifty Christmas hams at the wedding, one for every guest.”

You listen passively from the couch as they rehearse, trying not to let on that you’re paying attention, trying not to overstep. But you can’t help being struck by the lyrics, feeling the somberness of Freddie’s voice and John’s tentative notes on the electric piano slink into your bones; because it sounds so familiar, because it echoes so many things that John has told you.

When Queen takes a mid-afternoon break and John slips into the kitchen for a Coke, you follow him.

“Hey John?”

“Yeah.” He rests his hands on the dining room table. They’re sturdy and unmarred and completely unlike Roger’s; and you aren’t sure why you notice this, but you do.

“I completely understand if I’m being intrusive, and if I am please just tell me to shut up and I will.”

He chuckles. “You’re never intrusive. Go ahead.”

“I was just wondering...who is You’re My Best Friend about?”

Now his smile evaporates. “No one in particular,” he says briskly. “It’s just a song. Just something to put on the album. Maybe a single one day. A soulless royalties grab.”

That seems unlikely. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He takes a swig of Coke, peers down at the table, traces swirls of centuries-old oak with his fingertips.

“It’s just...you know...well...it kind of sounded like...maybe it was about me.”

He looks up. And for the first time, John levels some of his infamous, razored words at you: “Don’t be such a fucking narcissist.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, John doesn’t apologize. But he smiles at you over tea, offers to clean off the fingerprints of strawberry jelly that Roger left on the Canon, splashes you from the pool as you sunbathe beneath lapis August skies. And you agree, wordlessly and unconditionally, to forgive him. Because John is your best friend, whether or not you’re still his.

Nine weeks later, Bohemian Rhapsody is released as a single. (And, as promised, Roger ensures that I’m In Love With My Car is on the B-side.)

Twelve weeks later, Bohemian Rhapsody reaches the #1 spot on the UK Singles Chart, and remains there for over two months.

Fifteen weeks later, A Night At The Opera becomes the #1 album in the UK.

Fifteen weeks later, Queen’s future is suddenly crystal clear.

#queen fic #roger taylor fic

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years ago

Text

Bah Hiddleston | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon) | Chapter 4 | It’s Not A Date

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon)

Summary: Tamra Harmon has no mind to mess with Christmas. All that talk about Christmas magic and the joy of the holidays is just a bunch of mumbo jumbo. But will a chance encounter with perennial Christmas lover Tom Hiddleston change all that?

This chapter: Victoria and Albert Museum outing plus an impromptu Christmas party. Why does everyone keep calling it a date?

Warnings for story: smut, oral sex, implied smut, vaginal sex, light angst

Tamra woke once again to the sound of Tom rapping on her front door. She moved to open the door. She didn’t even bother to put on her robe this time.

“What?!” she yelled as she whipped open the door. Tom took a step back at the motion.

“Only ten minutes this time.” Tom commented as he moved his way into the flat. “Your jet lag is improving.” He moved to pick up her robe and hand it to her. “Now go get dressed.”

Tamra rolled her eyes as she snatched the robe from his grasp and headed to the bathroom. Tom took a seat on the couch again as his mobile rang.

“Hello?”

“Tom, it’s Ben. I pulled a few strings, called in a few favors, but I got everything ready for tonight.”

“Thanks, Benedict. I owe you one.”

“You owe me twelve. Now what is all the fuss for? Or should I say who?”

“No comment.”

“Fine, have your secrets. I will call you at the agreed upon time.”

“Thank Ben.” The bathroom door creaked. “Got to go, bye.” He ended the call and tucked the phone back into his pocket as Tamra rounded the corner.

“Important phone call?” she asked.

“An old friend. So what is on the agenda for today?” He looked up at her.

“Oh, so you’ll let me plan something?”

“For the time being. Now where’s that itinerary of yours?” Tom glanced around the flat for the piece of paper.

“Hidden well.” Tamra disappeared and then reappeared paper in hand. “We have already done the National Gallery and the British Museum. How about the Victoria and Albert Museum? It’s not far from here.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll wait in the car. Don’t forgot your coat!” Tom shut the door behind him.

Ten minutes later, Tamra got into the car and they took off for the museum. They spent the entire morning poring over the textiles, art, and other collections. Tom engrossed himself in the manuscripts on display.

“Look at the detail!” he crowed as he tugged on Tamra’s arm. She giggled at the giddiness.

“Look at the nerd go.” she hummed as walked to the next display.

“Have I mentioned I graduated with a Double Classics from Cambridge.”

“So a pretentious nerd. With a degree.” Tamra scrunched her nose up in mock disgust.

“I am nothing of the sort.”

“Where did you go to high school or whatever you call it here?”

Tom’s face dropped. “Eton.” his voice a touch above a whisper.

“Where Prince William went to school?”

“Yes.”

“Uh, huh.”

Tom jogged to catch up with her as she moved around the room. “And pray tell where did you matriculate?”

Tamra turned and muttered something indecipherable before staring at the next manuscript under glass.

“What did you say?” Tom crooked his ear towards her. “I couldn’t understand.”

“Harvard.”

“Did you say Harvard? Now who is the pretentious one, Miss Ivy League?”

“On scholarship.”

“Still Harvard.”

“Still Cambridge.” Tamra said.

“Anyways, how about lunch?” Tom asked, changing the subject.

“I could eat.”

Tom nodded and took her hand to lead her out of the museum and to the car. They found a nice restaurant and ordered some food.

“See,” Tom flourished over his plate. “Not a morsel of chocolate in sight.”

“I’m impressed.” she muttered as she took a big bite of her sandwich. “That’s like two meals total. You must be going for some kind of record.”

He dropped his head in defeat. “Are you ever going to let up on me?”

“Are you ever going to let this Christmas magic thing go?”

“Not a chance.”

“Goes double for me.”

Tom opened his mouth to jab back but his phone interrupted. He answered the call as he fished the phone out of his pocket.

“Hello? Oh hi Benedict!” Tamra’s eyebrows raised. Tom mouthed “Benedict Cumberbatch” “Tonight? I’m not sure. Hold on.” Tom muted the phone and glanced over at Tamra. “Want to go to a holiday party?”

Tamra frowned. “I have nothing to wear.”

“Easily fixed. I take that as a yes.” Tom put the phone back to his ear. “I’d be delighted. Can I bring a guest?”

Tamra shook her head in a desperate attempt to stave off Tom. “Please Tom, no!”

“Hold on a second, Benedict.” Tom placed the phone on his shoulder. “It will be fine. You can take that winning personality out for a spin.”

“We’ll be there at 6. Thanks Benedict. Bye.”

Tom hung up and replaced his phone back in his pocket. Tamra scowled from across the table. “What?” Tom asked.

“I’m not about to go some holiday party with Benedict Cumberbatch!”

“Yes you are. It’s our Christmas activity for the day. Besides, Ben is the sweetest thing ever. Marriage and fatherhood made him soft. Unlike yours truly.”

“I thought your winning personality made you soft.” Tamra sneered.

“Most people say so. You are the exception.”

“Whatever.” Tamra learned to not argue with fools. “I have nothing to wear. I did not bring any fancy party clothes.”

Tom rubbed his hand through his beard. “Now that is a problem. You can’t show up in jeans and t-shirt.”

“So it’s settled…” Tamra started.

“… we’ll cancel.”

“… we’ll buy you a dress.”

They both looked at each other. “You are not buying me a dress.” Tamra scoffed.

“We have a deal.”

“Deals can be renegotiated.”

“Not this one.”

“Fine.” Tamra capitulated. “Where are we going shopping?”

“Ever heard of Selfridges?”

The two of them spent the afternoon running around Selfridges finding a suitable outfit for Tamra. Plenty of suits hung in Tom’s closet. After about ten trips to the dressing room, Tamra settled on a dress.

“Can you show me?” Tom asked.

“Not until tonight.” Tamra giggled. Trying on dress sparked a bit of joy inside of her. She loved dressing up.

“Not even a hint.” Tom pleaded. “I would like to at least coordinate with my date.”

“Not a date.”

“Fine. My plus one.”

“Not great but better. It’s blue.”

Tom’s eyes sparkled. “My favorite color.”

“Good. Now take me home so I can get ready.”

“As you wish.”

Tom dropped Tamra off before heading off to get ready himself. The party in about two-and-a-half hours which gave plenty of time to get ready and still make it to Benedict and Sophie’s in time.

Tom knocked on the door exactly when he said he would. Tamra opened the door but walked away before Tom walked in.

“Take a seat!” she bellowed from the bathroom. “I’ll be ready in two minutes.”

Tom stood, rubbing his hands on his slacks. “We don’t want to be late.”

“You and your punctuality.”

“You and your tardiness.” Tom snipped back.

“Perfection,” Tamra said as she stepped out in the living area. “takes time.”

Tom’s cheek flushed and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. The navy dress nipped in at Tamra’s waist and the full skirt ended just above the knee. She tamed her long blonde hair, usually in a ponytail, into a neat bun at the nape of her neck.

“You’re staring.”

“Sorry. As you said I should see you in a dress.” he stuttered, covering his own embarrassment.

Tamra blushed as she grabbed her coat. “Thanks. Now we better get going. We don’t want to be late.”

Tom drove with care on the slick roads and they arrived in front of Benedict’s house only ten minutes late. Tamra wrung her hands as they climbed the stairs.

“Nervous?”

“A little. You’re the only person I know.”

Tom took one of her hands and gave it a squeeze.

“You’ll be fine. It is just a small gathering.” He smiled, and she gave a weak smile back.

A tall woman with dark hair answered the door. “Tom!” She threw her arms around Tom in a deep embrace before noticing Tamra fidgeting next to Tom. “And you are…”

“Tamra” she finished.

“Sophie, Benedict’s wife.” She shook Tamra’s hand. “Please come in, the two of you will catch a cold.” They hustled into the house and out of the cold. Sophie took their coats and Tamra stared at Tom’s outfit. A dark blue velvet suit jacket with black pants and tie.

“Aren’t you festive?” Tamra gestured at his outfit.

“This old thing?” Tom pulled at the lapels. “I found at the back of my closet.”

“Tom, Ben is in the study. Tamra why don’t I get you a drink?”

“Sounds great.”

Sophie led Tamra into the house while Tom headed towards the study. He turned to sneak a glance of Tamra and ran into Benedict’s chest.

“So sorry. I didn’t watch where I was going, Ben.” Tom apologized.

“Too busy checking out your date, I see.” Ben popped the last word.

“Not my date.” Tom said reflexively, glancing over his shoulder again to sneak another glance at her in that dress.

“That’s Tamra isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Tom replied, distracted. “She is something else.”

Ben crooked his neck to spy around Tom. “I can tell. Now I see what all the fuss is about. And why we needed to have an impromptu Christmas party tonight.”

“She is just a friend.”

Ben scoffed as he pulled Tom into the study and pour him a whiskey. “I’ve seen you with friends. This is not how you act around friends. And isn’t that a new jacket?”

“Yes it is and you’re imagining things.” Tom took a big swig. “I am trying to show her what Christmas magic is. Nothing more. I am stuck in town for a few days.” he rambled on.

Ben stepped around Tom to walk out of the study, clapping him on the shoulder on the way. “Whatever you say, Tom. But you’re wrong. I’m warning you to stay away from mistletoe tonight.”

Tom chuckled as he followed Benedict out of the study and into the living area. A small group of people clustered in and around the room in conversation. Tom glanced around the room to catch Tamra sitting on an arm of a chair. Sophie sat in the chair and they both laughed at a joke the man standing off to the side told. Tom’s face blanched as he realized that man was Luke. He pushed his way through the room.

“Tamra.” he said as he reached them. “Sophie.” They smiled up at him. Luke cleared his throat. “and Luke.” Tom said through gritted teeth.

“Tom, Luke was telling us the funniest story.” Tamra started.

“Hopefully not about me.” Tom weaseled himself between Luke and the chair.

“Not everything is about you Tom.” Tamra snorted as she shifted to peek around Tom at Luke.

Luke snorted as he took a sip of wine. “I like this girl already. Tom a word.” Tom nodded as Luke pulled him aside. Tamra turned to talk to Sophie.

“What is it, Luke?” Tom questioned as they stepped into an empty hallway.

“Listen, I don’t know what exactly is going on with you and that girl in there…”

“Why does everyone guess there is something going on?” Tom groused. “We are JUST friends!”

“I am not here to argue. I was going to say Tamra is a special girl. Whatever your intentions are, don’t fuck it up.”

Tom swallowed. “I don’t intend to.”

Luke walked back towards the party. “Good because I would hate to have to kill you.”

Tom gave a forced smile. “I’ll keep it in mind.” He followed behind.

“And yes, we were talking about you.” Luke snapped as he ducked into the kitchen from some food. Tom paled.

The rest of evening flew by with drinking, laughter, food, and perhaps a bit of theatrics from Tom and Ben. As the party wound down, Tom wanted the evening continue. That feeling nagged him throughout the goodbyes and the drive back to Tamra’s.

“How about a nightcap at my place?” Tom blurted as he drove through the dark streets.

“What?” Tamra looked at him in shock.

“A nightcap at my place. Nothing sinister or tawdry. Just two friends hanging out.” Tom repeated. He turned and looked at her with those earnest blue eyes.

Tamra’s stomach did a flip when she looked at him and she turned to stare out the window to compose herself. “I.. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Right. Right.” Tom nodded as he continued to drive. “But we are still on for tomorrow?”

“Yes! Museum of Natural History.” Tamra perked up.

“I can’t wait.” Tom said as he attempted to swallow the lump in his throat.

“Me too.” Tamra reached across and placed her hand on top of his hand. “I had fun tonight. Thanks for taking me.”

Tom blushed. “You’re welcome. That wasn’t Christmas fun, by chance?” he chuckled to break the tension in the car.

“Party fun. Nice try.”

“Can’t blame me.”

“No, I can’t.”

The car came to a stop outside the building and Tamra lingered in the car. “Goodnight Tom.” She leaned over to peck his cheek. “See you in the morning.”

“Night.” Tom smiled as she left the car and walked up to the building.

She turned and gave him a little wave before going inside. Tom put the car into drive and headed home. As he pulled into his driveway, he replayed the day. He entered his home and walked upstairs, giving a little attention to Bobby. He climbed into bed after changing his clothes. As he stared up at the ceiling, a single word bubbled up.

“Damn.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston smut #bah hiddleston

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 years ago

Text

The Long Way Home: Eleven

“Loki?”

“Yes, your majesty?”

“Has there been any word?”

“None, My Lady.”

You accept this information with a slight nod. Not the whining or tears he’d half been expecting. Though, Loki isn’t sure why he expects it. You may be soft and rather too wispy for his taste, but you don’t cry in public and you never behave in any way that’s that embarrassing.

But today you look tired. And you crackle with nervous energy. Worry. And in the back of his mind, Loki curses his brother for gallivanting off because the Avengers needed him again and not telling his wife he may be gone for some time. And for leaving her with nothing to do but be vaguely underfoot. It’s true that the people of New Asgard would do anything you asked. As used to obeying Frigga as they were Odin, no one would bat an eye if you gave them a direct order. But you had nothing to order them to do.

So, your Gardens were immaculate. Well tended rows of herbs and vegetables. Delicate starts of fruit trees. Row after row. And the house was spotless and well organized, steadily being altered to suit your tastes. But that still left you with an appalling amount of time to contend with every day. And, if Loki’s assumption is correct, on Less and less sleep, and very little to eat or drink. That’s concerning.

Thor will be less than pleased if he comes back to find his wife in less than perfect condition.

Still. You’re gone from the doorway as quickly as you arrived. Feet almost silent in the dirt. So you don’t see the look Valkyrie and Loki exchange behind your back. Or that Sif and the warriors three look almost irritated at your question.

“This isn’t Asgard,” Loki cautioned Sif when she opened her mouth to make a comment. What he means is, “This isn’t the Thor you remember.”

The Thor they remember would have been at his wits end with this doe eyed girl who had no practical weapons experience. That Thor would have found it very easy to simply charm her for a day or two, have his way with her to produce an heir, and then gone back to maintaining discrete little flings. But this Thor? This was a different man. One who understood pain and loss on a level none of them really understood. And when he looked at his wife, he felt peace. He saw someone he could adore and keep safe. Someone that was just his. And he’d be furious, even with his oldest friends, if they were caught undermining her position.

“The people love her,” Valkyrie said sipping from her flask, “and it’s a legitimate question. In her time here he’s never just left.”

She doesn’t say that there had been an incident. One of Cadel’s spies had been caught, adding poison to a meal you were going to be served. And she didn’t say what had happened to the body of that man. Or that you hadn’t really slept since then.

And she doesn’t say it because you had asked her not to.

Asked her. Not ordered.

Even in your shock, curled around a cup of tea like a question mark. Holding yourself together by a thin thread of poise. You’d spoken to her like an equal. And calmly explained that, until you could figure out how they’d gotten so close to you. And if they had an accomplice on New Asgard’s soil, it should be kept as quiet as possible.

And she could see your point. So she had.

“The people,” Sif started through gritted teeth.

“Have suffered,” Valkyrie said, “And they deserve a beloved queen. Even if you don’t agree with Thor’s choices.”

Sif had never made a secret of her dislike of you. Not even at your first meeting. She’d been territorial and almost rude. Enough that Thor, who was so nervous he could barely form coherent sentences, had noticed and had Loki quietly remove her. It set Brunhilde’s teeth on edge then and it still rankled.

If Thor had wanted a warrior, he could have had one. But he didn’t. He wanted someone that brought peace to his soul. Someone he could fuss over and coddle. Someone whose lap he could lay his head in after a long day and forget that he was king for a second. And you were decidedly that person for him. And Brunhilde had to admit, she could see the appeal of you. Quiet and calm with a bright smile and kind eyes. You were nice to be around.

“It’s been three months,” Sif said angrily, “And there’s still no heir forthcoming.”

Loki sighed, “What are you implying, Sif?”

“That she’s barren and Thor should sue for breech of contract. Send her back where she came from.”

And the crash in the hallway, made them all turn before anyone could answer. And Loki felt a jolt of guilt, even if he hadn’t said it.

The tray you’d been carrying was on the ground. Pieces of broken crockery and bright, sweet berries, cream and cold tea were spilled around your feet.

“Is that so?” you challenge quietly, raising your chin.

You step over the mess and sweep into the room, making them all scramble to their feet. Your eyes are narrowed. Locked on to your target. And you have your shoulders thrown back. You look regal in a way that only a Queen can bear down on someone without looking foolish and cartoonish.

“My Lady-” she started. But your eyebrow twitches in censure. Sif hadn’t earned addressing you so familiarly.

“Your Majesty,” she tried again, cheeks coloring when Brunhilde struggled to hide her amusement. “I- I- I”

“Oh dear. It appears that sharp tongue has dulled,” you you say sweetly. “Hopefully your hands are still in working order. I’d appreciate help to clean up my mess.”

Sif has no choice but to nod, mutely. And you smile brightly, “How very sweet of you. Thank you, my Lady.”

And point proven, you sweep out of the room. Your head held high and your skirt swishing around your ankles. And Brunhilde beamed. Grateful that you were a Queen that wouldn’t allow herself to be bullied.

#Thor Odinson #thor x reader #angst #Sif #Warriors Three #Loki #Brunhilde #Valkyrie

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nevermore-ocs · 4 years ago

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Author’s Note: 7.3K words of a smut fic of my character, Internal and @flowerthornsart‘s character, Codec!!

Internal snarled to himself, the smell of the common dreg of the undercity of Daxton made him gag, walking rotten meat slabs that wore disheveled clothes they were to him. And now, the fact that Drake's great plan of getting information about their youngest brother, Blood, from these stains was working, he wasn't going to hear the end of it. He leaned against a wall, silently watching the discussion of the eldest vampire conversing with a masked man dressed in a long sleeve shirt, tattered and worn jeans, and sneakers coated in dirt. "And you're positive they were here?" Drake's voice rang through Internal's ears, "Yeah man they were here, that big bitch Blade and his little vampire sidekick were here like a week ago," even his voice sounded disgusting, it was rough to the ears like he's been smoking every day for the last three years. "Thank you for your information," Drake reached into one of his suit pockets and pulled out a wad of cash held by a small rubber band and handed it to the man who boisterously unbounded it and counted the bills with a wide-spread grin. He took another glance at Drake, putting the money away in his pocket. "'Ey I meant to ask, where's that cute girl that comes with y'all?" That's when Internal's attention was caught at full force. "How do you mean?" Drake could sense Internal's quick-growing anger, he had to quietly put a hand up to halt his hot-headed brother. "That cyborg girl, dude! The one with the helmet? She's fine as Hell, hehe!" Drake had to take a glance over his shoulder at Internal, he was fuming, his now unsheathed claws were slicing into the decaying wallpaper behind him, he was growling lowly to himself, drool was cascading down his chin. "Sucks how she didn't come with y'all, I would have LOVED to show her a good time, you know what I mean?" The man snickered, Drake opened his mouth to say something only to be interrupted by Internal's boots thudding against the creaking hardwood floor due to him stomping up to the two, however, he was halted yet again by Drake who outstretched an arm across his brother's chest, as security. Internal hunched over, he was baring his teeth, his eyes were wide and his pupils were in slits, and a rough, snarling growl emitted deep from his throat. "Drake..." Internal finally spoke, his voice laced with a dangerous amount of venom, it was practically dripping out of his mouth. "Yes, Internal?" Drake asked, already knowing what the question was going to bed. "Can I eat now?" The feral vampire hissed through his gritted sharp teeth, and after being mute for a moment or two, Drake lowered his arm back down to his side, freeing him. "You may." It was like the leash was taken off of a dangerous dog, Internal charged forward at the man with unnatural speed and a hissing roar, there was a loud sound of his teeth piercing through the flesh of the man's neck, right into the jugular, he dug his sharp, pointed, dagger-like teeth deep into his neck flesh in a ferocious bite. His jaw locked, the blood from the man's arterial vein sprayed thickly in Internal's mouth like a dense red mist and as the feral vampire heard the man's gurgling pleas for help, and his feeble, weak attempts to push him off of him, Internal sharply turned his head to the side, the man's throat was torn clear out, the blood spray continued heavily right onto Internal's face before he dropped the man's now limp body down onto the wooden, creaky floor. "Well that was-" Drake paused when Internal knelt to the body and started to use his claws to slice through the man's chest cavity, blood splattered in numerous pools around the fresh corpse, the feral vampire took a hold of the body's ribcage and with a grunt, and with a quite a show of strength, he splintered bones and broke them, tossing the pieces away to the side sloppily. Internal's mouth was practically frothing at the invading smell of human organs and that's when his stomach growled loudly. He glanced over his shoulder at Drake who gave one nod and Internal's feast began. "Violent." Drake finished his thought.

"You left the lungs?" Drake questioned, counting in his head while his fingers flicked through the dollar bills from before, when all was counted for, he folded the money back up, clasped them all together with that rubber band from before, and slid the payment back into his suit pocket. "He was a smoker, I could fuckin' smell it off of him. I'm surprised how you didn't." Standing up with the man's liver in his hand, Internal brought the organ up to his mouth and dug his teeth into it, tearing a bite out and he easily chewed and swallowed the meat, he slammed the door open with his elbow and as the scents of outside filled both of their noises, in which Internal scowled and Drake was already mapping out their destination in his head, he started to walk in that very direction with Internal next to him, shoulder to shoulder. 10 minutes of undisturbed silence, Drake spoke up, "Should we talk about what got you so angry in there?" The question was brought up, Internal stopped himself in pre-bite and he lowered his hand, his eyes narrowed somewhat and they drifted to the side, and his cheeks sported a very light dusting of pink. He didn't want to admit it out loud, he wouldn't if Drake wasn't there to witness the whole thing. "What's there to talk about?" Internal was already sounding hostile and defensive, which his brother should have expected, that was never new. Drake placed a kind hand on his brother's shoulder, "Internal, I know you did it to protect Codec's honor, there's nothing wrong wit-" Internal snatched his shoulder away from his brother's grasp. He tossed the organ from before to the side and turned towards Drake with a rumbling growl, "You don't breathe a fuckin' word about what happened tonight to her, ya understand me?! So help me, Drake, I'll beat your face in so fuckin' deep, they're not even gonna be able to tell we're related anymore, ya got it?!" Drake's gaze and overall body language was unfaltering, he barely moved an inch at Internal's outburst and his ruby-red orbs bored right into Internal's matching ones. "I won't. Though you can't beat yourself if she asks you what happens, lie to her if you want, but she'll be touched by what you did." Drake was looking at Internal's back now as the feral vampire pressed onward towards their destination, the feral vampire paused mid-step and truly thought it over. Could he tell her? He could tell her what he did and leave it at that, it probably wouldn't go to anything else, anyway. If anything, he was going to get a teasing from Codec about him being 'a big softie' around her. "...fine, whatever. Can we get there already?" Nodding, Drake used his unnatural speed to appear right next to his brother again, he read Internal like a book, he knew he wasn't used to these feelings, let alone towards a human, something that Internal despised with a burning passion ever since the attack but Codec was different for him. He's caught Internal smiling around her, yes they teased each other and butted heads, but it had a playful twist to it, for God's sake, Codec's poked Internal's nose when he was right up in her face with his fangs bared at full extension, it was different. Drake wasn't used to it and he knew for sure Internal wasn't. Their walk back towards the hotel they were staying at with Codec remained silent the entire time back, Drake's eyes were fixated forward for the most part but he couldn't help but take the occasional glance over towards Internal, he was staring directly at the ground, his arms were crossed firmly over his chest, even his claws were digging into the fabric of his jacket. He wanted to get to their room and relax, blow off steam, even if that might take the rest of the night and a midnight hunt to do so. "Here," When they were standing at the doors of the hotel, Drake pulled out a handkerchief from his front pocket, "Wipe your face, and hands, good thing you didn't get it on your clothes...this time." Internal gripped the rag and yanked it from Drake's grip and he did just that, he cleaned his hands off and then his mouth, the red liquid stained the white fabric a reddish-pink color. Without saying anything else after, Internal tossed the cloth back to his brother who caught with ease, balling it up, he slipped it into his slacks' pocket. "Can I go in now or do I have to fuckin' dress like ya too?" The feral vampire spat, earning an eye roll from Drake who went up to the double glass doors and he took hold of one of the handles. "No, but you could have manners," he pulled the door open and motioned to go inside with his free hand. "You could say thank you for this."

Even the elevator ride up to the suite was quiet, and again, Drake was looking forward and Internal's eyes were locked onto the carpeted flooring of the elevator. When the two metal doors squeaked open, Internal took a firm grip on one of Drake's arms which instantly caught the attention of the eldest brother. "Remember. Not a fuckin' word." The feral vampire's fangs bared ever so slightly but his mouth closed again when Drake put his open hand up in defense. "I promise, not a word, Internal, I won't say anything to her." Drake fixed his sleeve after Internal let him go, he did the same with his tie and his lapel to his liking. "If she asks you, you get yourself out of it, you either tell her or lie, whichever." Walking out first, Drake pulled out their room key from one of his inner suit pockets and the two approached the corresponding suite. Sliding it into the electrical lock, Internal impatiently shoved the door open, and walked in, "Hey there you guys are, how'd the meeting go?" Codec, pulling herself out of maintenance on her robotic arm, she watched Internal go to the main bedroom of the suite. "It went fine," Internal muttered too quickly for her liking, and she especially knew something was up when Internal went into the bedroom, took a hold of the tinted sliding glass door that separated the living room and the bedroom, and slammed it shut so hard, the door shook. Blinking rather confused, it even showed on her helmet, Codec faced Drake. "What the Hell happened? I said one thing and he's pissed off already!" Codec stood up from the couch, "I can't...exactly tell you, Codec," Drake saw Codec cross her arms, which easily meant she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "Drake, what happened? Seriously, I know he can be a real hot head but usually, he screams at us, and then he's fine, this is different! What's going on?" Codec couldn't hide it, but there was worry evident in her voice, she cared about Internal a lot; she would never admit that aloud and could never bring herself to do that, she was far too stubborn for that and she even knew that. With a sigh, Drake raked his fingers through his messy hair and took one more look over at the shut door with the frosted glass, then he looked back at Codec. "I promised him, but, I know him. He was truly bothered by what happened with the contact today. That man said some less than...appropiate things about-" "Blood?" "You." That certainly caught Codec off guard, "What? Oh God, I don't even wanna know but, what did he say?" She couldn't help herself but turn her head towards the door once more, she could see Internal's infuriated silhouette grabbing what appeared to be a pillow or blanket off of the bed and he threw it against the wall. "He said sexual things, disgusting things about taking you and making you feel good," she practically gagged at those words, she certainly looked disgusted. "However, Internal...snapped. He lunged at the human and killed him on the spot, he fed, of course, but he did it out of your honor, you weren't there to protect yourself and Internal wasn't having it." Codec's eyes gradually widened with surprise at Drake's retelling of the night's earlier events, she was used to Internal being violent but she was surprised by this, and touched, this was so out of character for him. Not the violent stuff, of course, but the whole thing of just protecting her name when she wasn't even there. "Should I, um, should I talk to him?" She was glad that her helmet was covering it, but her face was extremely red, the thought of Internal protecting her was definitely on her mind, she couldn't get it out of it, "I think you should, calm him down, it's the easiest thing for you to do when he's like this, just, be careful is all." Receiving a smile from Drake, Codec returned it with her small one, and the eldest vampire went over towards the couch and took a seat in the middle, crossing one leg over the other as he finally started to relax. Codec, with little hesitance, went up to the glass door, she gazed inward and saw the shadow of Internal's form sitting on the bed, hunched forward, he was probably steaming still but luckily he was sitting down now so he couldn't cause too much damage at the moment. She wrapped her hand around the handle and inhaled deeply. She held it for just a moment or two before breathing out through her mouth and she pushed the door open, "Internal?" She spoke up softly, stepping through the open door, she let it slide carefully and quietly behind her, now it was just the two of them. Internal knew she was in there now but he didn't look at her yet, he was leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together in front of him, his coat and undercoat was stripped off of him so it left a tank-top, his jeans, and boots, it looked like he tried to get comfortable but was still too angry to do so. "Vallen?" When Internal heard his real name flow from Codec's lips with that soft tone to it, that's when his eyes finally decided to slowly drift over towards her. "He told you, didn't he?"

When Internal read Codec's mind, she made her way to his side and she sat down next to him, her hands resting on her lap. "Yeah, yeah he did," that blush was coming back to his cheeks and it felt so odd to him, he wasn't used to the feelings and thoughts that he got whenever she was around, he acted differently around her, the teasing and usually vile words were playful, like flirting. God, he was even more handsy with her, like he'd push her helmet down her head further whenever he was done with her teasing, or whenever she won a round of them going back and forth and she was the same way, being handsy with him, hers usually included taking his coat from him when he least expected it, Hell, she's even gotten him to purr and he hasn't done that in a LONG time. It would make sense why he defended her, even if the feral vampire would deny it. He was just as stubborn as she was. "So, what about it?" He didn't mean for it to sound as mean as it was, but he was getting defensive all over again and he was going to move but Codec placed her hand on his upper arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "First off, I wanna say thank you. I wasn't even there and you killed some asshole for me, I-thank you," she smiled up at Internal and the sight of Codec's face flushed with a smile made her look so precious in his eyes, it made his blush worsen. "Yeah, yeah, so fuckin' what?!" He grumbled, and then she giggled, and that made his face catch on fire. "You are a softie aren't you?~ But, seriously, Vallen, I appreciate what you did for me," Internal had to process what was happening, she felt like she had moved closer to him, her hand had moved down to his forearm and was holding it tenderly, "You didn't have to do it, you know? He was just some dirtbag who-" Internal stood up abruptly, "Are ya kiddin' me, Codec? Yes, I fuckin' did! The shit that, that fucker said, it was fuckin' disgustin'! And ya weren't there to stop it yourself, so I fuckin' killed him and fed!" Internal was pacing back and forth in front of Codec, he was pissed just picturing how scummy and shallow that guy looked, a copy cat in the undercity, if anyone else thought like that about her, he was going to feed a lot there. "Ya deserve better than some fucker who doesn't even deserve to mention ya talkin' about ya like that, okay?" The feral vampire's gaze fixated on the ground again, his face, even the tips of his good and torn ears were a blazing red too, "Vallen..." Codec was, beyond touched, she felt like she lost her voice, she heard her heart pounding away in her ears, she didn't expect Internal to ever talk like this to her, but she, she loved it, it made her eyes go wide and her face turn as red as his. "So, yeah, there ya go." He was about to sit down, but Codec's metallic hand going up to his chest paused his motions and he watched as she stood up from her seated position, her hands went up to her helmet, the digital eyes on the glass visor of it turned off when she slipped the helmet off of her head and she used a hand to fluff up some of her lilac-colored hair. She gazed up at him and her eyes locked onto his despite the uneven scar the took up the entire upper half of her face and Internal smiled, it was a real one, he never thought she looked bad or ugly whenever she had her helmet off, he truly loved seeing her without her helmet on, it was such a nice change from her wearing it pretty much 24/7 out of her insecurities that he wished she didn't have. "I'm being serious, I'm not trying to get under your skin or some shit like that I'm, I'm thankful for that."

It was like the rest of the world just faded away to Internal and he was sure the same happened for Codec, her pouring her heart like that out to him after his little outburst. All he could hear is his heartbeat pounding steadily away in his ears and how tuned his advanced hearing was, he could take in Codec's too and hers was just as bad as his. Both sets of eyes were darting around the room to try and focus on something else other than the person right in front them, the room was drenched with silence so thickly, nobody knew what to say right now and neither one of them dared to look at the other person, but after numerous failed attempts from both sides, Internal's ruby red orbs bored right into Codec's bright blue ones, his next action surprised himself. It was like he blacked out, but when he came to his senses, his arms were wrapped around Codec and she was held tight and close to his chest, there was a feeling of protectiveness in his embrace, how tight he was holding her. It was like he never wanted to let her go, he was even growling lightly to himself at the utter thought of what that guy would have done if Codec did show up to the meeting with them. If she did, and that guy had tried anything or even made a move closer to her, he would have killed him sooner and slower, to make him feel every single claw dig and rip through his flesh. "Vallen?" Codec's voice had a slight stutter like she was nervous to get her next words out and hearing that made Internal's voice do the same, "Yeah?" He wasn't sure where this was going to go next but how she was leaned against his chest and he could feel her hands moving from his back to his sides and waist, he had a feeling and he wanted it more than anything else in the world right now because nothing else mattered other than her and him in the same room. Her human and cybernetic hands maneuvered themselves from his sides to his chest, she grabbed at the fabric of his tank top, right at the dipped hem of it. "Come here, you dork~" Taking a firm grip of his tank top's hem, she pulled him down to her level, her lips collided against his in a passionate kiss, drawing a surprised but muffled grunt from Internal in the process. His eyes were wide as saucers, at the action out of nowhere, he's probably only ever daydreamt about this, he never expected it to happen, but it took a few moments and his eyes drifted, and they shut tight. He leaned into the kiss further, almost knocking Codec off of her feet if it weren't for one of his arms being thrown around her waist and keeping her held close to him. Their hands grasped at each other's bodies, Codec's had reached up behind Internal's head and she threaded her fingers through his dark red tresses took a handful of them, the other gripped at his shoulder, her digits digging into his skin ever so slightly. Internal's hands took almost selfish handfuls of her hips and backside, he felt her body fill his palms perfectly and he squeezed where his hands were positioned at, making her gasp out in between their tongues sliding and pressing against one another, allowing the feral vampire to lean forward and practically shove his tongue deep within her mouth, eliciting a breathless, muffled moan from her.

Exploring Codec's mouth with his tongue with such a burning desire, their teeth clashed together during the restless lip-lock, her hand at his head gripped and pulled somewhat on his hair, pulling a deep, suppressed growl from that was so sensual, it rocked through her whole body and made her tremble. Her thighs pressed up together and Internal took notice of it. Slowly retracting his longer than human tongue from her mouth, there was a thin line of saliva that stretched in between their open, panting mouths and it broke when he licked his lips. Hurriedly, he slid his arms down from her waist and placed his hands on the undersides of her thighs, easily hoisting her up and taking just a few steps, he carefully and gently, of course, threw her onto the bed. "Hmf-! How do I weigh like nothing to-" Codec's words were abruptly taken from her mouth at the tantalizing sight of Internal stripping his tank-top off himself and she got a full show of his toned torso on display, how scars were dusted here and there on both his front and back, her thoughts were screaming at her to just touch him already, more than she already was. "Because ya don't," Internal shot back with a chuckle, tossing the black tank-top away to the side since was it unnecessary at the moment and he climbed onto the bed, hovering above her, his hands planted on the bed at her sides and he grinned down at her, showing those dangerously sharp teeth of his. "And don't act like I didn't see ya gawkin' at me just a second ago~" He purred, "S-Shut up!" She turned her head to the side as an attempt to hide her flushed face, crossing her arms below her bust, but as she laid her head to the right, she revealed her neck as a price, and Internal saw the exposed area. With a soft chuckle, he leaned down and licked a long stripe up her neck from her collarbone to her jaw, drawing a shivering moan from her mouth, her hands also shot back up to his shoulders and back, gripping and holding onto him however she could. He locked his lips onto a certain spot, sucking at the small area and he ran his tongue over it numerous times too, he was so tempted to bite, his teeth were even grazing her skin. "A-Are you, hnh, gonna bite me?~" She breathed out, "Pull me closer I just might~" He responded, almost in a challenging way, his eyes even met hers again to further press it. Going over the dare put in front of her, she guided her hand back up to his head and pushed him more into her neck, he wasn't expecting that, but he wasn't complaining either. Leaning back up, he grinned, brandishing those fangs of his, even more so by running his tongue across the white, smooth surface and the sight of it practically set her face ablaze.

"Okay, well first, these are coming off~" Internal, initially, reached towards her to strip her of her clothes but she lightly batted them away, "Ah, ah, you're gonna rip them, you," she poked the tip of his nose, "feral cat," he narrowed his eyes after rolling them, but he listened to her wishes, albeit he was getting extremely impatient when he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Hey I didn't rip my top, did I?!" Codec playfully stuck her tongue out at him, proceeding to strip herself right in front of her after her bit of taunting. Internal couldn't help but watch, his eyes were drinking up the sight of her body becoming more and more exposed, her breasts gently falling into place when her shirt came off, she unbuckled her belt and slipped it from her waist, and then her shorts were slid off next. It wasn't too long before she was completely nude in front of him, he saw her robotic leg and arm were connected to her human body, it was honestly a flawless connection, how smooth the rest of her looked to the touch, he was aching to touch her already and while he was sitting there, he could sense her self consciousness, how an arm was draped over her bosom, her thighs were pressed somewhat together and her other arm was across her stomach like she was hugging herself. "Oh no," Internal growled, moving his hand quicker than her eyes could pick up, he gathered her wrists together in it, he pinned her arms above her head, his free hand pressed against the mattress as like before, "Yer not hidin' anything from me. Yer fuckin' beautiful, I hope ya know that, and if ya think I give a shit about any marks or anythin' like that, yer fuckin' wrong," She felt her heart get filled with love all over again, her face was just on fire, it certainly felt like it, she truly didn't expect him to ever speak like that to her but how touched she was just tripled from the amount before. "Aren't you a flatterer?~ That means a lot though, Vallen, thank you~" Leaning up, only a little though given her pinned position, he saw her attempt to come closer to him, so he leaned down to meet her in the middle, she, at first, pecked the tip of his nose. She giggled and he chuckled before the two of them met in a kiss again, their mouths sliding against another, his tongue swiped across Codec's bottom lip, and with little to no hesitation, her mouth opened and his tongue returned to her mouth, slipping around and grinding up against hers. His grip on her wrists loosened until she was freed again, her arms hooked around his neck, and his hand from her wrists traveled downward from above her, to her shoulder, and then to her chest where he cupped one of her breasts, his tuned ears easily picking up a mute moan from her mouth. He kneaded her breast, squeezing gently and rubbing the mound in a slow, tender, circling motion, he could feel her nipple hardening against his palm, so he focused on that now, of course. Lifting his hand, he caught her nipple in between his index finger and thumb, pinching the hardened nub and he rolled it carefully, even pulling on it too. He could feel her body twitching, moan after moan that emitted from her just got swallowed in their mouths.

Breaking the kiss off for, Codec's face was flushed a bright red, her eyes were closed, her head was tossed to the side and buried in the pillows while she steadily panted, her hands moving from his back and down to his biceps where she gripped him, "Ya like it when I focus on these, huh?~" He purred, giving her breast a gentle squeeze to signal what he meant. He watched her nod, and when he saw that, he adjusted himself. Putting himself in between her legs with his crotch pressed right up against hers, he used his free hand at first to hike her legs around his waist and he let her tighten them around him, to hold onto him as tight as she wanted. Leaning down, his tongue flicked across one of her nipples, and she gasped out lightly at the feel of the wetness going across her like that. Opening his mouth, he took the nub into his mouth and started to suck on it, his teeth grazing over the risen flesh while his free hand held and tenderly rubbed and kneaded her other breast, he hummed against her skin, sending jolt after jolt of pleasure through her too. All Codec could do was just lay back and enjoy, her fingers were threaded in his hair again, gripping it, her free hand took a handful of the sheet they were laying on, her pants were getting quite breathless, "Ahhnn~ Vallen, tha-that's so good~ Mmmnnhff~" She gasped out, much to his pleasure, her voice was addicting so covered in pleasure and want, his own was practically filled with a natural, feral lust, only for her and her alone, he was purring, loudly, his voice had growls whenever he spoke. He kept her nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue across it over and over again, he even carefully pulled it with his teeth before letting it go with a breathless huff, his eyes cascading back upwards towards her flustered, red face, "Good~ I want it to be~" He opened his mouth and was in the process of leaning towards her other breast but Codec's hand cupping his cheek stopped him and his eyes instantly flicked back upwards towards her, he could see a glint in her eyes like she had a plan and determined as all Hell to carry it out. "As, whew, as much as I want you to keep going with this, I think it's about your turn to get something, hmm?~"

It took them rearranging their position for Internal to realize just what Codec had planned, he was leaned back against the numerous pillows on the bed, he still had his jeans on from earlier before, however, that look was still ever present in her eyes and now it was his turn to turn as red as all Hell, and he silently cursed to himself since his pointed ears, both torn and normal, were turning red too. Pressing a quick peck to his lips, Codec started to move down his body, her hands on his torso and caressing him the journey downwards until she was at his belt, "I think you might be getting redder than me, Vallen~" She teased, earning a growl deep from Internal's gut, "No one's done this to me before, alright?!" He shot back, making Codec giggle, "I can tell since your jeans are looking pretty tight down here~" She cooed, her hands went up to his belt buckle and she started to undo the metal loop, unbuckling it and after that, she unthreaded it from the loops of his jeans, tossing it to the side with the rest of the discarded clothes. She unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them too, letting her fingers hook around the edges of both his underwear and jeans, she pulled them both down at the same time and let out a soft gasp to herself when Internal's cock sprung out of the prison that was his underwear and stood straight up at attention. She gazed at him, gulping to herself, out of her excitement and also on the fact that he was bigger than she's imagined before, not that she was complaining though. "Yeah, yeah, ya did this to me~" He chuckled, he sucked in a soft breath when her robotic hand wrapped around his length, the metal was a cold contrast again how warm he was down there. "Did I?~ Well I should take care of it, shouldn't I?~" Allowing her hand to glide downward, she tenderly held his cock by the base, squeezing it gently and she licked her lips too, probably hinting to him what she was going to do next. Leaning her body forward, she pressed her tongue flatly against his cock and she dragged her tongue up from the base, taking her time on his shaft so that she licked the entire length of it, ending her long lick at the head which she promptly pressed a kiss to it. Internal's eyes rolled back and closed while letting out a long, low groan, his claws had unsheathed and were currently digging into the sheet and the mattress slightly with how tight he was gripping. Gauging his reaction, Codec giggled, craning her head forward, she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, starting suck on it whilst her tongue flicked across it too and as she did this, her hand steadily pumped what wasn't in her mouth yet. He groaned, sitting up again to stare at how she worked her mouth around him, feeling her mouth open up wider, she started to slide more of his cock deeper into her mouth, feeling the head of it press against the back of her throat is when she gagged lightly, knowing that's how much she could take. "Ghhnhfm~ MMmmhhffnh~" She moaned out around him, sending pleasurable waves up and down his body. She started to bob her head up and down as she sucked, her tongue swirling around his shaft buried in her mouth and her hand continued to pump what wasn't in her mouth, her other hand squeezed at his inner thigh, feeling his body trembling with the gasps and low groans that breathily escaped his mouth. "Fuck~ Hnnh~ Nnhg~ Yer, hah, really fuckin' good at this, Codec~" He whispered, his shut eyes were twitching before he finally pried them open to take in the sight of Codec's mouth wrapped around him, smudged and streaked remnants of her purple lipstick painted his cock, her eyes fluttered and landed onto his and made such a deep eye contact with him, it felt like it wasn't going to break. She took in just how cute he looked, his entire face was flushed, his eyes struggled to even stay open a little and if he wasn't letting out breathless groans, he would chew at his bottom lip to bite back any noise that attempted to seep through his lips.

Codec lifted her head off of his cock, she panted out heavily to catch her breath, her tongue was even hanging out of her mouth. She gazed at Internal again who was recovering from her mouth being pried away from him, his body was heaving with his panting, his defined, scarred body was coated in a thin sheen of sweat and he even had brushed his messy hair back and away from his face. With how he was twitching, that certain gaze in his eyes, and how he was panting open-mouthed with his fangs on display, he was close. "You, hah, whew, mmhf, taste good, Vall-oh!~" She had to remind herself about the vampires' unnatural speed since, in a blink of an eye, he was on top of her again, his body wantonly pressed up against hers. "I don't think, haah, ahhn, I can take too much anymore, Codec~ I have got to be inside of ya already~" There was a degree of need in his voice when he murmured that out, "Trust me, I'm, hnn, the same~ I want you, Vallen, please~" She pulled him down to her level again, her mouth right next to his ear, "I need you~" She pleaded. Letting their foreheads press together, Internal let one of his hands roam downwards and he grasped his cock by the base, letting his hips adjust and when he did, the head of his cock pressed against her slick, dripping slit, drawing a soft, sharp gasp from her. He dragged it up and down her folds, beginning to drench himself with her wetness, and when he was slick enough, he lined his cock up to her and moved his hips forward, sinking himself deep inside of her pussy and she wrapped around him tighter than he expected, but he adored it. Codec moaned out rather loudly, her hands shooting to the sheet and she took fistfuls of it while her back arched off of the mattress, "H-Haah!~" When he was buried inside of her, he let out a low, animal-like growl at the relief rushing over him at being inside of her already. "Fuck~" He drew the swear out, "Yer tight~" He husked out, he didn't move quite yet, he wanted the okay from her more than anything. He wanted her to love this. "Y-You're, hah, hnnh, oh~ Bigger than I thought~" She whimpered out, she could feel Internal's eyes fixated on her, they didn't break from her body jolting with enjoyment. It took a few moments to a minute and then she gave him the nod for him to begin moving. He pulled out of her almost all of the way, only to snap his hips forward again, his hands went back to gripping the mattress after wrapping her legs around his waist all over again and he started to steadily pound and thrust his hips downwards into hers, Internal's eyes were screwed shut, he was leaned over her and his head hung some while he kept up this steady pace of his hips while Codec gripped and grasped at his body, her hands were gripping and grasping desperately at his back and his shoulders, her heels dug into his hips as they slammed into hers. The sounds of his waist slapping up against hers filled her ears and the room, "Oh, fuck, unhnf~ Unhf~ Ya like that?~ Tell me, I wanna hear that, mmffhh, pretty voice of yers, Codec~" He growled, he glanced downward at the sight of his cock pumping in and out of her, how it disappeared inside of her over and over again at quite the fast pace. He instantly snapped his eyes back onto her face when Codec, attempted, to speak up again. "I-fuck!~ I love it~ Please don't stop, Vallen, please~ Please don't~" His ears flicked, he wasn't expecting her to beg but allowing a grin to dance onto his lips, he pressed his body up against hers again and it let him rock and slam his hips down into hers faster and harder than previously.

Their bodies pressed against one another in a heated embrace, the headboard to the bed was knocking against the wall it was pressed up against, most definitely alerting anyone in the room next to theirs about what they were doing. Internal reached down again, and he hurriedly collected both of Codec's wrists again and he pinned her arms above her head again, his free hand roamed up her rocking body, pausing a moment at her breasts to cup one and knead one tenderly before letting his hand continue until it made it to its destination, her neck. He wrapped his hand around her neck, he wasn't choking her of course, but he had a tender, loving hold on it as he kept her pinned like that, much to her approval, "Vallen~ Vallen~ MMhff!~ Ahn!~ Oh!~ L-Like that~ Just like that~ Oh please don't stop~ Please~" She whispered breathlessly, "God, I can, fuck I'm gonna come soon~" He leaned down, his forehead pressing against hers, "I plan on fillin' ya up to the fuckin' brim~ I want my cum drippin' from ya~" He grunted, the thought of that alone fueled him to do just that, and judging from Codec's numerous, begging nods, she wanted that too. Internal's pants were getting heavier, his thrusts turned needier, more desperate, and his pace that he had set prior was getting lost from him. His hips collided with hers erratically, "F-Fuck I'm gettin' close~" He rasped out, "M-Me, hah, anh, oh, me too!~ Fuck!~ V-Vallen-!~" Codec's gripped him tightly, her fingers dug into his and her thighs tightened around her waist, effectively trapping him and with one more strong, fast pound from Internal, she came, that coil that tightened in her abdomen snapped and released. Throwing her head back against the pillows and letting out a loud moan open into the room, she tightened around him, hugging him, and with how warm, wet, and velvety her slick walls felt around his cock, he wasn't that far behind her. He released her, both her neck and her wrists to get a firm hold of the sheets and his claws dug into them so far that when he was pushed over the edge, he tore slashes not only into the sheets but also into the mattress itself. He buried his cock deep inside of her, his teeth bared and he let out a roar almost of just pure feral pleasure, his orgasm hit him hard, it felt like wave after wave of fire rushing over his body, his hips jerking forward with every pump of this thick seed shooting and spilling inside of her, his hips planted firmly against her, his cock hilted inside and his plan of just filling her up all of the way didn't change at all. When he was done with his orgasm, he had to pull his claws out of the fabric of the bed, his cock slid back out of her and he fell limp down beside her, he was panting out loudly alongside her, he felt sweat accumulated all over his body, especially on his forehead and on his back but the bed was handling that right now. Codec shuddered, feeling Internal's cum eagerly drip out of her slit and onto the bed, she could barely move, a lot like him, but neither one of them was complaining. The scent of sex was strong in the room, there were feathers from the pillows and torn fabric evident on his side and when he caught his breath, enough, not fully, but enough to speak up, he glanced over at her in the corner of his eye.

"So, ya are a bottom, huh?~" "...You're so fucking lucky I love you~" "Hehe, love ya too~"

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thelovelylolly · 4 years ago

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Chapter 2 - The Drink

Summary : Greef finally keeps us his end of the deal and arranges a drink for himself, Cara, Din and you.

Warnings : uses of y/n, other than that there are none :)

Notes : *little boogie* chapter 2 is here! i hope you all enjoy!

It’s been a few days since you worked with Din, Cara and Greef and you completed their suits just in time. Since it took some time to make the suits and then the business meeting Greef was talking about happened, you all decided to get the promised drink the next week. Greef already had your number so he easily organized the drink and even added dinner to the deal, which he thought would get rid of some of his debt. It didn’t.

The day of the dinner, you had to work overtime since one of your employees called in sick. When you were able to leave, it was an hour until the dinner. It took you around 20 minutes to walk home then it would take around 30 minutes to get ready. The restaurant was a 5-10 minute uber drive away from your home so you’d just make it. You began to speed walk home, hoping you’d save a little bit time.

You opened your front door to reveal the messy apartment that you called home. It was larger than other New York apartments but it felt small with all the stuff crowding it. There were half finished pieces draping off of mannequins, a lot of old furniture and decor gifted to you from family that you didn’t want to give away, many many sketches all around from quick ideas scribbled down to be expanded on later to fully developed clothing lines that need to be double checked.

You quickly made your way into your room to get changed. You found a lace, black bralette, a yellow dress that landed a little below your mid-thigh and some knee high, black boots. To pull in the semi-baggy dress, you found a statement belt to wrap around your waist. You decided to quickly pull your hair into a bun. You also pulled out a few pieces and curled them to frame your face. Natural makeup, some silver accessories and a small, black bag finished off the look. You glanced at the clock in your room and noticed that you had only a few minutes to spare. You quickly called an uber and waited outside your door. Your apartment was on the first floor and nearby the entrance stairs so you decided to sit on them. Your uber pulled up a few minutes later and you hopped in.

By the time the uber reached the restaurant, it just turned 6:15 which was the agreed upon time to meet. You thanked the uber driver and exited the car, making your way inside the lovely restaurant. The host directed you to a table in the back where Greef, Cara and Din were already sitting. You politely waved to the three and smiled.

“Y/N! You’re just in time!” Greef exclaimed. He was sitting next to Cara and across from Din. An empty space was reserved for you in the booth next to Din. You caught his eye with your outfit. He silently soaked in your appearance as you sat down next to him, tucking your bag beside you.

You felt his eyes on you so you looked at him and smiled. You almost lost yourself in his brown eyes. “So, how was the business meeting? Were my suits good enough for the two of you?” You asked, quickly looking away.

“The meeting went well and your suits are amazing,” Cara answered, setting her menu down.

“I’m glad you liked them, if you want I can take you on a tour through my boutique sometime to see if you’d like anything else I make,” You replied as you picked up your menu to scan it for something to eat.

“Thank you again for the last minute suits,” Greef said, “and thank you for not adding more debt.”

“Of course, but you do still owe me a lot of money,” You said as your smile turned into a smirk.

“What has Greef done to owe you?” Din asked, causing you to turn your head to him again.

“Karga has used my talents before to get high quality clothes without paying much,” You started to explain. “At first, I allowed him to build up some debt but soon it became too much. So I started to remind him-”

“Repeatedly texting, emailing and sending me letters as a reminder,” Greef cut you off. You kicked him gently from under the table for interrupting you.

“I started to remind him about his debt. Maybe, if he keeps doing me these favors, his debt will go away,” you finished, going back to reading your menu. The three began their own conversation to let you decide what to get.

You snuck little glances at them to look at their outfits, it was a habit you’ve picked up since you became a fashion designer. Greef was wearing a black button up with a dark, muted red blazer and some nice jeans. Cara had on gray pants with a teal blouse and a gray jacket on top. Finally, Din had on a black button up with matching black pants. All of them looked nice.

Soon, a waiter came over to take your orders. The service was quick and your drinks and food were brought out sooner than you all thought. As you ate, the four of you discussed your jobs, what colleges you went to, your interests, the basics.

After a little bit, you all finished your food and were talking while sipping the remainders of your drinks. And by talking, Cara and Greef were talking about their work while you and Din sat there awkwardly. “So, do you maybe want to get out of here?” Din asked.

You looked at him. “Sure,” you answered with a smile.

The two of you snuck away from the table, Cara and Greef somehow not noticing. You and Din stood outside as he opened his phone to get an uber. “Hey, I know this is a little soon and stuff but would you want to crash at my place? I know ubers can get pricey and my apartment isn’t too far away,” You offered, nervously crossing and uncrossing your feet.

“Really? Thank you,” he replied. “I’ve been ubering around a lot lately since my car got really beat up a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. I usually walk everywhere so I can save money for ubers,” you said, laughing softly and leading the way back to your home.

“Um, do you want to exchange numbers?” Din asked.

“Yeah, I’d love to talk more,” you answered, pulling out your phone. It only took a few moments to put each other’s numbers into your contacts. After a few minutes of walking quietly and enjoying each other’s company, you arrived at your apartment complex.

As you closed the door behind yourself and Din, he looked around your apartment. “I’m sorry it’s such a mess, it’s just the process of creating, y’know? Anyway, you can take your shoes off and leave them by the door. The bathroom is at the end of the hallway and the guest bedroom is on the left across from mine. Give me one second,” you quickly explained, taking off your jewelry and rushing back into your room.

Din quietly slipped off his shoes and sat down on a fancy, cream colored armchair to wait for your return. After a minute or two, you reappeared with your hair down and shoes off. Since your shoes were off, you were at your natural height and Din noticed you were shorter than him. In your hand were some mens lounge wear that you had designed and kept in a corner of your room with all of your recent pieces. “Here, hopefully this is around the same size. I don’t want you to sleep uncomfortably,” you said, handing him the clothes.

“Why do you have men's clothes?” Din asked.

“I designed them,” you replied, smiling.

“Oh,” Din said quietly. You led him to the bathroom so he could get changed then you went back into your room to change yourself.

You closed the door to your room then went to one of your drawers, opening it and taking out a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. You ran a brush through your hair quickly and went over to your vanity where you kept your makeup wipes. Once you finished taking off your makeup and throwing out the wipe, you heard the bathroom door open. You went over to your door and opened it to see Din walking back to the living room. You slipped into the bathroom quickly to your night routine.

Din sat down where he sat before, looking around your apartment. The living room went into the small kitchen which was decorated with different plants and pieces of art. His eyes shifted over to a wall full of framed pictures, the frames not matching. He saw you in most of them, only a few without. Din stood up and walked over to look at them closer, hoping it wasn’t too creepy. He saw one of a man and a woman with the woman holding a little baby.

“So, I see you noticed my pictures,” you said, nearly scaring Din to death. He turned around to see you with your hands on your hip. “That picture you were looking at is of my mom and dad when I was a few months old.”

“You seem close to them,” Din replied. You leaned against your couch nearby.

“They live across the state now so it’s hard to visit them, but we’re close. I’m an only child, spoiled by both of them and the rest of my family. They helped fund my move to New York City and the start of my boutique. And here we are,” you explained, your eyes stuck to the floor.

“That’s...nice,” Din replied, going silent afterwards. A silence sat between you two.

“Would you like something to eat? We didn’t have dessert at the restaurant and I have some cookies and ice cream if you want them,” you offered, walking towards the kitchen. Din smiled slightly.

“Ice cream sounds good.”

The two of you sat in the living room, watching Netflix while sharing a container of ice cream. It wasn’t long until the ice cream was gone and the two of you were getting tired. “Let me clean this stuff up then I’m gonna head to bed,” you said, standing up and collecting the spoons and empty container.

Din thanked you for the ice cream and turned off the t.v. since he was going to go to bed as well. You put the spoons and the dishwasher and tossed the container into the trash. Din went down the hall and you followed him, both of you stopping in the door frames. “Well, um, goodnight,” Din said.

“Night,” you replied, walking in and closing your door. You turned off the lamp beside your bed and crawled under the cream colored covers. You turned on your side and closed your eyes.

You woke up to some noises coming from the guest bedroom. They were muffled since it came through some walls but they were loud enough to wake you up. Sitting up, you blinked a few times to have your eyes adjust to the dark. You got out of your bed and left your room, gently knocking on the guest room’s door. “Din?”

When you got no reply, you gently opened the door to see Din talking in his sleep. It was mumbles of words that got louder. You’ve seen this before with one of your college roommates, nightmares. And really bad ones. You quickly made your way over to the side of the bed where Din was and placed your hand on his shoulder, trying to shake him awake.

“Din….Din,” you kept whispering his name. Eventually he did wake up, a little out of breath and scared. “Hey, are you okay? I heard you talking in your sleep.”

Din looked at you for a moment, then back at the grey covers as he sat up. “Yeah, I-I’m fine, just a nightmare,” he replied.

Silence sat between you two as you sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really, I need a distraction,” Din answered. You smiled at him and moved so you were sitting in front of him with your legs crossed. His heart skipped as you moved and smiled at him. The entire night you had been kind and caring to him, even though you’ve only known each other for a week or so. He sensed some sort of connection between you two, one that you sensed as well.

“So, what do you do for distractions?” You asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“Like do you draw or read or go for a walk or something to get your mind off of something.”

“Oh, um,” Din paused to think for a moment. “I don’t know. I usually just stare out a window or at a wall.”

“Sometimes that’s just what works. I usually have a solo picnic on the top of my apartment building’s roof,” you laughed quietly to yourself which caused Din to smile a little bit. “Anyway, what else do you want to talk about?”

You and Din talked and talked for an hour or two, well you carried a lot of the conversation since Din wasn’t much of a talker. You didn’t mind, you didn’t want to push him or force him to do anything he didn’t want to do. What you didn’t know was that he loved to hear your voice and hear you talk about what you loved and hated, what you were passionate about and your dreams. But soon, you started to yawn frequently and it was approaching the mid-early hours of the morning. You were too tired to go back to your room and Din didn’t mind you sleeping next to him since it was a big bed. It was also your home.

You crawled over next to him and lied down with your back facing him. “I’ll be here if you have another nightmare,” you said quietly.

Din lied down with his back facing yours, a yawn coming from him. “Thank you,” he replied.

“Goodnight, Din,” you said, slowly drifting back to sleep. Din mumbled a sleepy ‘goodnight’ and with that, the two of you were out like a light.

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Tag list (let me know if you would like to be added or removed!) : @remmysbounty @softly-sad @poesflygirl @snow30285

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader series #the mandalorian x reader series #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine

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alias-b · 4 years ago

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honey, i’m home (hold for laughs)

A/N: So, I’m taking a break from my long fics. Just to gather myself again. I’m having sort of a bad day and idk I wrote this to deal with some stuff. Just something rough I punched out quickly. A somber blurb character study for Martin Brenner and Lucy Garland from my Hopper/OC fic, LFTM. Brenner dreams that things could be different if he weren’t such a monster.

It was the same dream. Night after night. Waking in a cold sweat. Rinse. Repeat.

Sheets that still smelled of her perfume. Lucy had never stayed over. In this house that was too big. In this bed that was always chilled. But, she was in everything he saw.

Martin Brenner dreamed so deep, he woke in a pit every morning. Fingers shifting to feel for one caress of that supple skin. Tread into black locks. He wished sometimes that they never chopped it off.

She truly looked like a siren with black silk spilling over her warm bronzed shoulders. Eyes glowing even in the dark. A rich brown. Almost honeyed like amber. Lucy was warmth and she was fire and he longed to hold it within his palms. Watch it spill and burn this entire town down.

That would have been breathtaking.

But, Brenner couldn’t have that. So, he smothered her. Pressed her like coal until she was a sparkling diamond instead. It was for the best.

So, he dreamed and tumbled. Woke before a smaller house, but it looked loved. Something out of a fairy tale in black and white. Surrounded by a lush garden of marigolds. Beautiful even if they’re all grey.

A place where the sun was always high framed with a white picket fence. Neighbors who smiled so wide they might crack. Waving in sync. Robotic in how they navigate.

Martin always carried a coat and briefcase. Dons his expensive Italian suits. Taking in this perfect world of black and white. Same at the funny sitcoms he secretly enjoyed. Wondering if Lucy likes them too. If she’d curl up with him and watch.

Steps took him up toward the door. Always unlocked.

“Honey,” Martin offered to the air, “I’m home.”

Hold for laughs.

And there she was. Materializing out of the kitchen with a wide painted smile. A little cinched polka dotted dress. Even a frilly apron. So pristine and untouched by this world. Martin figured the dress was a forest green only because he knew it was Lucy’s favorite color.

“How was work, dear?” Lucy never stopped smiling at him. That much was always static. Hands reached for his coat to hang it up. She didn’t wait for an answer and slipped into his arms. Kissed him on the lips like she’d been waiting for his return all day. And she had.

“Just fine.” Martin grasped her hips. Kept her pressed there flush.

“My husband. Fighting all the bad guys.” She cooed. Another peck. “Dinner’s almost ready. I made your favorite. And I didn’t burn it this time.”

Hold for more laughs.

Lucy always made his favorite.

She went to the doorway, posed a little like a mannequin.

“Kids! Your father’s home!”

Steps rumbled down the stairs. Two children lined up in front of Lucy. Matching mechanical grins on their doll faces.

Martin recalled their names.

The girl. Amanda. Dark brown hair and blue eyes. She must be about eight. Little spitfire. And her younger brother. Five years old. Martin. They called him Marty for short. Brown hair and eyes. Shy.

“Daddy!” The children jumped at him. Holding so tight like they might fade at any second. And they would. Lucy was all smiles at the sight. Protected by these four walls. They were safe here.

“Go wash up for dinner now.” She ushered them off, taking Brenner by the hand. A wedding ring sparkled same as the pretty pearls round her neck. “I made a surprise for dessert. Can you smell it?”

“Is that cherry?”

Lucy giggled.

“Isn’t it divine?” She shrugged and pulled out a pan. Some chicken and dumpling recipe his mother used to make. The pie came next. Piping hot in the window to cool. Glistening and lush. “That’s what fear smells like.”

“What?” Brenner had started to roll his sleeves up. Eyes snapping. Lucy clasped her hands. Her face must have hurt with that grin plastered.

“I just said it smells so good, I could ruin my appetite right now. Couldn’t you, honey?” She gushed.

Hold for laughs.

They gathered as a family. Looking around at these gifts. Happy. Sharing a perfect meal in a perfect little dollhouse. The child playing with them loved them too much.

“If you don’t eat your carrots,” Martin had to point at his son, “you won’t get dessert.” He smiled too like it was half a joke. Marty stuffed himself full and pie was served. “Don’t forget to thank your beautiful mother.”

“Oh, stop.” Lucy playfully smacked the hand from her hip. “I’m just happy to have a beautiful family.”

Martin could swear he tasted this rich meal. Succulent cherries hot on his tongue.

The rest of the night was clockwork. Get the children ready for bed. Storytime with daddy. Plenty of soft kisses goodnight. Lights out.

Lucy lotioning herself at the mirror in a little pink nightie. Martin’s mouth on her shoulder. Kissing her dizzy until she was up and in bed. Mounting him in nothing but those pearls. Them trying to stay as quiet as they could because the children were sleeping. Her tuckered body falling in next to him, spent. Blissful.

“We could have another baby.” Martin suggested. “Another little girl.”

“I always liked the name Jane.” Lucy mused. Haunted, he peered at her there against the pillows. Naked skin dewy and soft. “You look like you've seen a ghost, darling.”

“You know what’s going on, don’t you?” His head lifted to see her clearly in the dim lamplight. “You know this isn’t real.”

“Of course, it’s real, baby.” Her hand touched his cheek. “I’m real. Feel that?”

“You can’t love me.” The stinging thought welled his eyes.

“But, I do. I always will.” Lucy kissed him all better. “Do you feel it? Do you love me too?”

“Yes.” Brenner pulled her impossibly close. Lips trailed over her neck. “I love you more than anything.”

“To the moon and back?” Lucy melted into his frame. Sighed.

“Yes.” Martin had gasped it because he wanted it all so bad. This dream. This love. Felt Lucy in his bone marrow. That fire. A crack.

Lucy’s skin broke like glass. A mirror fracturing out. Martin felt her sag back into the bed.

“Honey, I don’t feel well.” A little porcelain doll breaking to perfect pieces. Ashes seeping out instead of blood. “Can you hear that? It’s a symphony playing just for us.”

“No, Lucy, you stay right here. With me.” Brenner brought her into his arms. Felt her quiver and shake. The horrid sound like nails on a chalkboard when her skin broke apart.

Lucy’s never able to stay.

Hold for laughs.

It broke his heart every single time. Seeing her shatter.

And he knew it was all on him. Everything. He did this. He broke her. Lucy trembling to ashes. Sinking between his fingers.

Hold for laughs.

The children are always shattered in their beds too. Safe and sound from him and this world of rot.

Brenner felt his chest filling with cries. With screams and bellows to stop the torment. It all became ashes and he mourned it. Even the marigolds.

It shouldn’t ache this profoundly. Martin Brenner with his pressed suits and pristine hair. The world to save upon his shoulders. Floating through science and logic. He could have let Lucy Garland go that day in his office. Could have let her blossom.

He doesn’t regret it. The greater good demanded all the sacrifice. He told himself that like a mantra. Lucy had to burn and become something greater.

But, when she looked into his eyes and lied so politely…

Nothing in his life hurt like her sweet deception.

He cannot love in full and she will never be his. Even if she sinks into his arms willingly. It’s all painted like those damn sitcoms.

Hold for laughs. Scream instead.

The dream’s ending was the same too. Lucy weeping softly. In the garden burying a pie dish with a bloody beating heart inside.

Martin never has the chance to figure who the heart belongs to. But it’s the only splash of color in this muted, artificial world. Lucy cried over it and brought the ruby red into his dreams.

Waking, Brenner gave a start. Breathed deep to capture life again.

Felt around.

Lucy would not be here.

Sometimes he dreamed of her naked and holding that knife above him.

It felt better than nothing. Maybe he had that coming for carving her out of marble against her will.

Brenner turned in darkness and smelt the perfume even still. The torment he brought this world turned back at him the day Lucy Garland walked into his office with those starry eyes.

He didn’t blame her, he deserved to die. Martin always knew that deep down. He owed Lucy a life debt and she would collect one day down the line.

Martin Brenner only hoped she’d hold him as the end came. Saving the world was a thankless job.

Liked to think maybe he earned that much. One pair of warm arms and a heart beating in his ear. Dreamed that something in Lucy could love him back just for a second. One perfect second where there were no ashes between either of them. Maybe she could forgive something and sleep better after too.

There was true hope in his soul that she could. This love. It would grow. Rot. Spread. Kill.

He dreamed something prettier for both of them.

It was only fair. When he laid his head down, the dream would come again like a silent monster. Make a fool of him because he still believed in it every single night.

And the only courtesy he could do was hold for the damn laughs and let Lucy Garland slip through his fingers. Smell her perfume and cherry pie again because she was a craving he’d never lose.

Not until she killed him.

Sometimes when Brenner walked the path in that perfect black and white world and looked at those swaying marigolds, he knew she already had. Martin would remember to thank her for it one day soon.

Hold for laughs.

#Martin Brenner #Lucy garland #idk why i wrote this I just wanted to #mine #writing #LFTM #Brenner x lucy

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enragedbees · 5 years ago

Text

Does He Make You Happy?

Updates Saturdays 6pm EST!

Pairing: Logicality with an opportunity for side Prinxiety

Summary: Four years after their harsh breakup, Logan and Patton reunite and reflect on their past.

Warnings: dissociation, breakup (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Words: 2540

Song rec: Dangerously by Charlie Puth (This is where I’ll suggest a song that may have influenced or inspired a scene or chapter. There’s no obligation here, but it’s available if you want it!)

A huge thanks to @prince-dark-and-stormy-night for letting me expand upon their oneshot and to @xionbean for being my beta reader!!

Taglist: @xxpeach-bobaxx @starwarsdestroyedme

Any feedback is appreciated! :)

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Chapter 1: There’s No Forgetting You

Logan had stopped feeling the seasons changing.

For months, he had wasted far too much time and effort on doing things that made him happy. Eventually, he realized that whatever he did had no impact on his emotions or general well-being, so there was no point in spending his already limited schedule reaching for fleeting moments of happiness. Logan’s emotions, while muted, still came and went based on his accomplishments and mindset. It was a simple cause and effect, and there was no point in messing with that system. In a way, it freed him. Without having to worry about scheduling social engagements or alone time, he could pour all his effort into his work.

It wasn’t that he left behind a part of himself in that apartment so long ago, he so often repeated over and over again, lying in bed throughout the night, eyes wide open. It wasn’t that he was broken and couldn’t mend the shattered pieces. He was still his own person.

It was just the product of a devastating loss he could never fully process.

After spending so much time with someone, Logan recognized that many of the things he repeatedly experienced were inextricably intertwined with his memories. That it was easier to block out the things that caused him pain than to remember them and feel his heart breaking all over again.

The petrichor after a spring shower was the first time they met. The color and smell of fallen autumn leaves were the same as the day when they found their perfect apartment. There were even some foods Logan could no longer eat without seeing through the eyes of his past self. So he trained himself to stop feeling. Every time he ran into something that triggered a memory soaked in melancholia, Logan pushed it out of his mind and focused on something else. Usually, it was work. Usually, it worked.

It took awhile, but eventually Logan stopped noticing the painful memories altogether, therefore no longer noticing things like the changing of seasons or the colors of the sky. The warm summer wind that brushed over him as he walked out of his local Starbucks might as well not have blown at all. The coffee in his hand was almost certainly made incorrectly. It didn’t matter.

Logan walked down the street toward his apartment. At 4 o’clock on the Sunday before the last week of school, downtown was flooded with high schoolers desperate for a glimpse of what their summer nights would be like in just a few short days. A few of Logan’s students from the past year waved at him from outside the frozen yogurt shop. He smiled and politely waved back, then reminded himself to finish grading the final exams from their class when he got home.

Logan lost himself in his thoughts, which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. He wrote a mental list of everything he had to do by the end of the day and the week, and what to put in place before school ended so setting up for the beginning of next year went smoothly.

“Logan?”

The sudden awakening from his autopilot stroll home startled him. He turned towards where he had heard whoever wanted to get his attention, and his stomach flipped and his mouth opened.

A shorter man with chestnut hair stood in front of him. He wore the same black hipster glasses as Logan and a striped blue T-shirt. As Logan met his gaze, he saw the other’s eyes brighten and the corners of his mouth turn up.

And all at once, Logan’s barrier shattered, and all his feelings came flooding back.

~8 years earlier~

Logan usually loved the rain. It was always a calming presence, a quick way to wash off any doubts or anxieties. The sky greyed and the air went cold and sweet the morning of his first day at a new job in a brand new city and Logan thought it was a good sign.

He didn’t realize it would make navigating the already confusing city even more difficult.

Fresh out of college with a degree in elementary education, Logan wandered downtown with a less than helpful map on his phone, sipping a bland coffee for the caffeine. He thought that the community center he’d be tutoring a small class in was a short walk from his new apartment, but he was on the street it was supposed to be located and couldn’t see anything telling.

Logan sighed in exasperation. Staring at his phone, he wheeled around, and immediately slammed into another person walking out of the coffee shop. They both dropped their drinks and they splattered everywhere.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Logan tried to help pick up the mess as the other also apologized profusely. The stranger shuffled some papers and filed them away in his bag as Logan picked up and wiped off his coffee-speckled glasses.

“Let me buy you another drink,” the two said in unison. They looked up at each other and laughed sheepishly.

“Or we could both just get ours again,” offered the other, eyes shining and smile effortless. Logan was suddenly very aware of the coffee all over his jacket and the dark circles inevitably underneath his eyes. He smiled back, his face flushing a little, and tried to mess with his hair.

“I promise I’m usually more aware of my surroundings,” Logan said, handing the stranger the last of his dampened papers. “I’m just having some trouble navigating this labyrinth of a city.”

The other laughed again, and Logan couldn’t help but catch the contagious positivity this man seemed to constantly carry. “Yeah, I’ve lived here my whole life, and if you don’t know already know how to get around you’re basically screwed. If you need some help, I can point you in the right direction.”

Logan didn’t like to ask for help. But he wanted to spend even a little more time with the stranger. He also really had no idea what he was doing, and knew that he’d never get to where he needed to be without some assistance.

“Actually, that would be greatly appreciated. Thank you.”

“No problem!” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Patton, by the way.”

Logan shook Patton’s hand. “Logan Schlenke.”

“So, Logan, where are you headed?” Patton asked as they both walked back into the coffee shop and got in line.

Logan looked down at his phone. “I’m trying to get to the Brighton Community Center on 3rd Street. I’ve been up and down this street, but the buildings start at 400 and the center is supposed to be 56.”

Patton nodded in understanding. “Yeah, it’s on the other 3rd Street.”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“The courthouse splits the street in two, but instead of renaming the pieces into East 3rd and West 3rd, they kept two separate roads with the same name,” explained Patton.

“That seems unnecessarily complicated. Wouldn’t it have saved time and effort to rename the streets?”

“You would think.” Patton picked up his coffee. “Anyway, you’re just on the wrong 3rd.”

“I’m supposed to tutor a class there in half an hour! How far away is it?” Logan’s mind started churning, trying to come up with adjustments to the plan he had carefully crafted for the day.

“No worries, it’s about a 15 minute walk from here. I’m actually headed that way myself, I can walk you there if you’d like,” Patton said, holding the door open.

Logan’s heart skipped a beat. “I would appreciate that. Knowing myself, I’d just get lost again.”

Patton chuckled. “You can’t miss it. It’s a straight shot from here.”

“That’s never really been my strong suit, either.”

Patton laughed again, really laughed. Head back, eyes closed, and Logan flushed with pride, knowing that Patton’s laughter was because of him. They talked easily the whole walk, and when Logan reached his destination, they exchanged numbers.

“Just in case you have any more navigation troubles,” Patton explained.

They both knew it wouldn’t be used just for navigation help.

After that, they were inseparable. Nobody really expected it to last long, least of all the two of them. From the outside, it was an interim relationship; someone to vent to after a long day, to bring as dates to other people’s weddings. But as one year passed, then two, they continued strong.

Logan’s friends would say that he was happiest when Patton was around. Friends of Patton would say Logan brought the best out of him. Even though they seemed to be complete opposites, they fit together naturally and comfortably.

Logan had wondered many times over if the situation would have changed had they taken their bond more seriously when they first met. If they hadn’t dismissed their differences as opposites attracting, if they had taken action to resolve the conflictions early on or if they had decided to part ways earlier, if they made sure they wanted the same things out of their futures. If.

If only.

Logan would talk about the different apartments, homes, condos he could inhabit in big cities across the country, and Patton never even thought to mention wanting to stay put and live close to his family. Patton would mention how he’d raise his future kids and Logan only thought about how much easier it would be for him when he didn’t have to deal with taking care of children.

But when they realized they couldn’t fit into each other’s envisioned futures, it was too late. They were both too far gone.

Logan tried to ignore it. Still, there was this constant nagging voice in the back of his head, telling him that the longer he put off dealing with their problems, the harder it would hit when they inevitably came to it.

It wasn’t until Logan saw it start to affect Patton that he knew he had to get out. He couldn’t stand seeing Patton so unhappy. Logan knew what Patton wanted, and he would never take away an opportunity for him to have it. And since Logan wasn’t willing to give up what he wanted, he knew the only way to give them both a chance at happiness was to remove himself from the equation.

So, when Patton was out of the apartment for the day, Logan took out two suitcases and started packing. He wrote a note explaining everything to Patton and left it in the kitchen. He decided to leave quickly, quietly, and cleanly. Rip off the Band-Aid. It was the option that would hurt the least.

Or it would have been, had Patton not come home early.

Logan stacked his immaculately folded clothes into his suitcase. His heart was pounding, but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He hadn’t heard the front door open, so he jumped when Patton burst into the room, holding the note from the kitchen.

A beat passed as they locked eyes. Logan stared at him like a deer in headlights, trying not to shrivel up at the worry, betrayal, and unfallen tears in his gaze.

Patton was the first to break the silence. “You’re leaving and you’re telling me with a note? You’re not even going to break up with me in person?”

Logan tore himself away from Patton’s stare and gathered up the last of his clothes. “It was the easiest way to do this.”

“It’s not the easy way, it’s the cowardly way! Logan, why are you leaving?!”

Logan bit his lip as tears welled in his eyes. He couldn’t break now, because if he broke in front of Patton he’d convince him to stay.

And Logan wouldn’t do that to Patton.

“This isn’t going to work. We’ve ignored our differences for too long. We never should have let it go this far.” Logan tried not to be too harsh, but if Patton hated him a little bit afterwards, maybe he wouldn’t miss Logan so much.

“What do you mean it isn’t going to work?” Patton asked, his first tear falling. “We’ve made it work for four years!”

“And we can’t go much longer!” Logan put his head back. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. “We want different things. We can’t keep pretending like we’ll stay happy forever when we don’t envision the same future.”

Patton now had his arms wrapped around himself, tears streaming down his face. “Logan, please –“

“You want a big wedding, this huge celebration with all your friends and family, and I want a small, intimate ceremony! You want a house full of pets, and I only think I could handle a cat, but you’re allergic! You want to stay here so you can be close to your family and I want to travel and experience living in different places! You need someone who works a nine to five and has weekends off and I need someone who understands I can’t control my hours! You want kids and that terrifies me!”

“We don’t need to have any of that! I’ll change, if that’s what you want. Is that what it’ll take to get you to stay?!”

“No!” Logan finally turned to look at Patton. “I don’t want to change you! I want you to find someone who’ll give you what you want! I want you to have a life where you have what makes you happy, and I can’t give that to you. I’d never forgive myself if I took that possibility away from you!”

Patton shook his head incredulously. “Logan, you make me happy! Why won’t you believe that I would give up all that to be with you?”

Logan picked up both his suitcases and walked out of the bedroom. “I won’t make you happy if you give up what you want for me. I promise, this is for the best.”

Patton stood in his way, the complexion so often smiling being morphed by his heartache. “Why do you get to decide what’s best for me?! Logan, please, don’t go!”

Logan pushed past Patton as the tears he had been holding back finally fell. He stopped at the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. Patton said nothing, and as the door shut behind Logan, he sobbed, sinking to his knees.

As soon as Logan left the apartment, he completely fell apart. He walked through the lobby of his apartment building, tears blurring his vision and coating his cheeks. Drenched inside and out from the sorrow and the rain outside, he threw his bags into the trunk of his car and collapsed on the steering wheel, shaking and sobbing and hurting, hurting so completely and throughout his entire body. Logan could literally feel every part of him aching with the pain.

He let himself grieve for a few minutes. He then forced himself to breathe and calm down. When he felt stable enough to drive, he put his key into the ignition and started the car.

Logan thought about all the times he had left this building early in the morning, leaving breakfast on the table and a kiss on a sleeping Patton’s forehead. He forced the memory out of his mind and kept driving until he could no longer see the past he was leaving behind.

#ts #thomas sanders #sanders sides #logicality #logicality fic #prinxiety #patton #logan #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #my writing #dhmyh #does he make you happy

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