#trying to keep their nose in check to avoid interrupting the building pleasure
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Someone sneezing while giving head, making the laziest of efforts to turn their face away or cover their mouth, just exploding all over their partner’s thighs, close enough that their partner can feel the spray ghost teasingly against their pulsing center and up the length of their torso.
#and when they just go right back to it like nothing happened 🫦#taking their job very seriously#even if they have to keep ducking away to sneeze before coming back#bringing their hands/fingers into play to keep their partner going if it turns into an extended fit#(subjecting rio — well I guess agatha to this)#(I say agatha bc she’s the one being sneezed on)#(and rio is the unshakeable force who refuses to let a sneezing fit deter her from her duties)#just such a hot position for someone to be in while losing control 😍#same as with the person receiving 😏 trying to focus on two competing sensations#trying to keep their nose in check to avoid interrupting the building pleasure#self conscious about how helpless they must look
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Can I angst for Mammon where he is in a really bad mood and his brothers are at it again calling him names. And already ask them kindly to leave him alone but they keep at it. And Levi says something and it's the last straw. The air around them get cold for a moment as he slowly looks up and he flat out threatens them to shut up before he puts them back into there place with a really dark and threatening voice, before leaving. And the look could rival Satan's or even Lucifers glare.
I think Mammon takes the abuse of his brothers but sometimes he isn't in the mood and want a little peace and it is very very rare for him to get pissed
Like he's the kind of person who would yell when he's upset but when he's down right pissed it's like really fucking scary
People forget that as much as he lets his brothers push him around he is still the second oldest and is powerful so 😬
Brothers+ undateables reaction
Mammon snaps:
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This is something I’ve mentioned in previous posts, but I basically second everything you said. I believe that Mammon dislikes getting into confrontations but isn’t by any means weak or stupid. He is the second eldest. However he is also, arguably, the one with the most self control out of them all. He has an overwhelming amount of patience when it comes to his siblings and I like to think he puts up with all of their insults because he loves them. Then again, it’s very possible for him to go berserk after years worth of build up.
Thanks for the request!!! I had a bit of trouble at first because I didn’t know how I was going to format it but I like the way it turned out so I hope you do too. Uhh also I reached my word limit writing this so I couldn’t include Simon, Luke and Solomon. I do plan on writing for them as well but at this point I’m just trying to get this done. Let me know if I made any grammatical errors! I double check my writing all the time but sometimes mistakes got over my head! The undateables are short because honestly I view the brothers as the ones who will suffer the most out of everyone. I hope you enjoy reading it anyway!!
•Characters: Lucifer, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphagour, Diavolo, Barbatos.
⚠️Warnings: Cursing, mentions of blood & gore and that’s about it.
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For the past few months, Lord Diavolo’s pleasure of hosting parties and inviting people over had become more and more noticeable. It was pretty obvious that the Prince was lonely, isolating himself from others due to the responsibilities he has as the heir to the throne and a leader in the making. Attending his gatherings seemed like a down right chore for most of the brothers but you never had any problem tagging along. Besides, it felt nice knowing he seemed you worthy of coming to such important meetings. Your seven demons were, of course, also invited and per Lucifer’s orders, they all got cleaned up and dressed in fancy clothing to impress the regals prancing about the castle. Though the outfits themselves came with their own set of problems. Levi’s was way too tight; the collar seemed to annoy him more than anything else, judging by the patches of red skin on his neck. Satan accidentally ripped one of the buttons from his jacket off in a fit of rage earlier that day and was now silently fuming while poking his finger through the hole he made. Even Asmo spilled some water on his shirt before they arrived, ruining his pretty pink suit! Not to mention Beel was munching on his tie, having last eaten about 15 minutes beforehand. Lucifer pulled it out of his mouth and scowled at the saliva stains that were left behind. Safe to say they were all in a miserable mood to begin with.
“I expect all of you to behave in a respectable manner,” Lucifer flicked Belphie on the back of the head just as he began dozing off, making the youngest growl at him. He shot Mammon an irritated look “I’m especially talking to you Mammon. Don’t try to steal anything or I’ll cut your hands off.”
“I told ya big bro, ya don’t have to worry about me! I’ll be a golden child today! Promise!” Mammon held up his pinky as if he was committing to some kind of oath. The eldest darkened his glare and opened his mouth to say something else, but you interrupted in hopes of avoiding any bickering that might’ve followed.
“Look, there’s our table! Let’s go sit down. Lord Diavolo’s speech is going to start any minute now.”
Beel leaped at the table as soon as he sniffed out the appetisers, which were neatly arranged on the expensive tablecloth, shoving at least half of them in his mouth by the time the rest of you caught up with him. Having been seated, you quickly glanced around the room in hopes of spotting Diavolo. You bumped into Solomon and the angels before entering the castle, chit chatting with them for a while about the event. Even now, Luke was excitedly waving at you from across the room, using both of his arms. However, Lord Diavolo and Barbatos were the ones in charge of this party and you were yet to see either of them.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mammon eyeing the golden utensils laid out in front of him. Not the biggest of surprises really. Anytime Mammon sees something along the lines of gold, he can’t help but snatch it away. And there’s obviously so many valuables scattered all over the place, including the silverware that was proudly presented on every table. You sucked in a breath of anticipation when he reached for one of the spoons, only to exhale in relief when he placed it on the bridge of his nose, trying to balance it.
“MC, look at this!” He tapped your shoulder, as always wanting your full and undivided attention as he demonstrated his newfound skill. You giggled at his antics with fondness as he accidentally let the spoon drop with a clatter and a quiet ‘shit’ coming from him. Lucifer pulled on his ear, like a mother scolding her child and whisper-yelled at him to stop acting like an idiot. The only reason the oldest chose a sit right next to Mammon was to maintain order and peace. Basically, he did it for disciplinary reasons.
“I understand that being impertinent is your full-time job, Mammon but keep this up and I’ll throw you in Cerberus’ room. Let him do with you as he pleases.”
“Lucifer, it’s not a big deal-“
“Yeah, OK,” Mammon hissed, picking up the spoon from the recently polished floor with a slight grin that didn’t quiet reach his eyes “I gotcha. Can-“
“Speaking of Cerberus,” Levi suddenly piped in, no longer fussing about his collar or nervously twiddling with his thumbs because of the massive crowd of demons surrounding him “Didn’t you force me to walk him last week when it was your turn to do it?? I only agreed because you promised to buy me the newest Ruri-Chan limited edition body pillow that came out last Tuesday! And you never did! And now they’re out of stock, you scummy piece of-“
The third eldest would’ve leapt across the table and aimed for the throat if you hadn’t pressed a gentle hand against his chest, making him sit back down with a huff. People were starting to stare at the commotion coming from your table, turning heads and muttering between themselves. You were slowly dying from embarrassment by the way, since you guys definitely became the topic of conversation for the other guests. The brothers were being too noisy to even notice and Lucifer himself was too preoccupied to see the scene they were creating which made you further slouch down into your chair, silently hoping for the ground to swallow you whole. The night really wasn’t going as intended. You could hear Solomon laughing at the brothers’ antics from three tables down.
“I guess that’s Mammon for you,” Belphie yawned, barely raising his head from table “He lies everyday, all day. What exactly is new here? And that says something since it’s coming from me.”
“I apologised for that!” Mammon whined, referring to Levi’s accusation and choosing not to address Belphie’s insult “I was gonna buy it but then I realised I spent all my money earlier that week anyway so I couldn’t!”
“Perhaps that wouldn’t happen if you learned how to save the money you earn properly,” Satan muttered, sipping from his glass of whatever beverage he had snatched from the servants earlier “Not like you know how to earn money in any way besides stealing it.”
You watch as Mammon clenched his fist “Can we please just move on-“
“I can’t believe that I was cursed with this moron for a brother,” Asmo sighed, almost theatrically, as if he was performing. And, in a way, he was. People were getting really interested in the drama unfolding over there. It was making you even more anxious, all those eyes staring at you. The Avatar of Lust was leaning so much on his chair, you were sure he was going to topple over and at this point, you kinda hoped he would. Anything to stop this momentum of hatred aimed at Mammon “You’re always getting us in trouble, you know. Hmph, we can’t go anywhere with you Mammon! You always end up ruining it for us! With your stupid schemes and-“
“I’m hungry-“
“Not now, Beel!”
“Cutting him up into tiny pieces for the witches will always be an option,” Lucifer chimed in, smiling at the thought.
Mammon snapped his head upwards at that. It was such an abrupt reaction, it made you jolt a little in your seat. You couldn’t miss the tension radiating from him, how quickly his body stiffened and exactly how hard his hands were gripping the edge of the table. His brothers were still paying him no mind, blaming him for this and that under their breath or being silently judgemental in Lucifer’s case. You worried for him because Mammon rarely acted like this; feral, in a way. Just so you know, he definitely noticed it. The look of concern plastered all over your face. That’s the only reason he released the table from his vice-like grip and slouched back against his chair. Satan went quiet and was staring at Mammon in bewilderment.
He disliked the idea of you watching him lose control of himself. He was your guardian. Your first pact. It’s important to him that your relationship is build around a pillar of trust. And he can’t even expect you to trust him if he exposes you to his demon form every time something inconveniences him. Mammon would rather cease to exit than have you fear him. So he kept his breathing regulated as the fog cleared his mind. The Avatar of Greed isn’t an angry demon. Snuffing out the the flame of rage he had fanned up until then was relatively easy. He just needed to get through tonight, then he could go home and complain to you about it once he got out of his brothers’ earshot.
“Why does he get to spend so much time with MC anyway? He’d probably sell them for a few Grimm any time of the day, wouldn’t he? It’s so fucking unfair. He won’t change no matter what so why risk MC’s safety? I will summon Lotan on him if he starts getting on my nerves.”
It would be an understatement to say that those words rubbed Mammon the wrong way, judging by the lack of immediate response. It was unexpected for him keep his mouth shut at a time like this. What was even more unexpected was the abrupt, delayed reaction he had a few seconds afterwards, resulting in his chair being flung back about 5 feet in that general direction. The seemingly deafening thud it made when it collided with the floor echoed around the dining hall, bouncing off walls and whacking people over the heads with the aggression behind it. A moment of pure, indescribably loud silence filled the crowded space as everyone else stared in shock at their brother, mouths agape and eyes bulging out of their sockets. Mammon would’ve laughed at their faces if it weren’t for the circumstances leading up to that point.
“What gives any of you the right to treat me like some sort of punching bag?” Mammon drawled, accentuating his obviously superior nature to almost every single demon at that table. He laughed, in an oddly half hearted way, before his sea struck gaze landed back to his siblings “Do not try to push me into a corner, because I will not handle it well. You’ve been having a field day with me for centuries now and I’m starting to get really ticked off, ya know? But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’ve done everything in my power to keep MC alive for the past few months and y’all are acting as if I’m out here playing with their life. Complain about me all you want. But...” He thumped the table, loud enough to make all the noblemen in the room flinch.
“Don’t you dare insinuate that I would ever put MC in danger, willingly or not because I will rip out your insides and paint the walls of this palace with them while hanging your intestines from these chandeliers. I will pluck your hairs out one by one, then your nails, then your eyeballs and then your teeth. You’re the ones that have put MC in danger’s way time and time again in the past few weeks, and you’re out here trying to suggest that I would even think about hurting them? Unlike every single one of you, who almost killed my human-you’re lucky I don’t have your fucking heads.”
He smashed his fist into the table again, using even more of his strength this time and effectively breaking the whole thing, the wooden legs giving out and shattering into thousands of splinters. Mammon spoke again, his voice lowering “MC forgave you. I didn’t. And I have no reason to. Not with how you’ve been treating me.”Once he spit that out, Mammon turned on his heel and left, slamming the door shut behind him hard enough to shake the whole building, leaving his siblings in dazed awe.
......
Even more silence. For some reason, all of the brothers at the now broken table ended up looking your way, silently questioning what they should do. It often ended up like this
You gave them all an unimpressed stare and a half-assed shrug “Don’t look at me. You guys fucked up.” Before sliding out of your seat and following Mammon out of the castle, sending an apologetic smile to Diavolo on your way out. Hopefully, you could manage to calm him down before everyone else gets home otherwise this might drag on for a while.
Lucifer:
-In all honesty, he probably saw the signs from a mile away and still decided to ignore them
-Maybe because he believed they weren’t being all that harsh on him, even if in Mammon’s eyes they were
-‘Harsh’ in Lucifer’s vocabulary usually means being hanged upside down from a ceiling or publicly executed, not a couple of mere insults
-Not to mention the eldest had always been horrible at communicating with his brothers when it came to emotions
-Despite Mammon clearly suffering from the treatment he received from his brothers, Lucifer refuses to believe he’s the root of the problem
-As the Avatar of Pride, he always had a hard time realising that all those words and the constant teasing, which he deemed to be pretty harmless, scarred Mammon a lot more than expected
-Once he actually comes to that conclusion, and after getting over the initial shock, Lucifer would probably feel the guiltiest out of them all
-Being the eldest means he carries quite a few burdens on his shoulders as most responsibilities fall on him due to his prideful nature
-He would blame himself for Mammon’s outburst simply because he’s the older brother and he should’ve known better, not just because he sees how a big of a role he played in all of this
-Usually, if his brothers do something bad, then he’s there to fix it within hours, that’s how it always worked
-Except he doesn’t know how to fix this exactly
-The problem is he has no idea how to approach Mammon after that sudden meltdown and he has no idea how to talk it out with him because he sucks at expressing himself verbally
-And since this took place in a public space, Lord Diavolo’s Palace no less, he felt really conflicted on what should have been done at that moment in time
-There was a lot of frustration, embarrassment and confusion in him for a good five minutes after Mammon slammed that door shut behind him and even after he gathered his thoughts together, he was still in shock for the rest of the night
-In any case, the whole event was promptly cancelled and everyone ended up going home earlier than expected, after Lucifer apologised to Diavolo about the spectacle they created (several times)
-When they finally get home, he decided to give Mammon his space instead of trying to knock at his door and instead went back to his room
-He knows they will need to solve this matter soon but there’s no way Mammon will want to see, let alone talk, to any of them just yet
-He’s sort of hoping he can apologise best he can next morning at breakfast, cross his fingers and wish for the best but judging by the venom that laced Mammon’s voice the night before, it’s not likely he will forgive any of them that easily.
Levi:
-If I were to guess, he saw the ending credits of his life flash before his very eyes as soon as those words left his mouth
-Levi felt a panic in him like never before, not even while playing his engaging horror visual novels at 3am in complete darkness or that one time he used Lucifer’s credit card to buy merch before being found out
-Must’ve forgotten his brother technically ranks higher than him on the power scale for a second there
-Or maybe he didn’t think his insults were going to affect him much
-They usually don’t
-Or at least that’s the impression he’s been under for a while now
-Mammon doesn’t snap easily under pressure but Levi must’ve really hit a nerve there that night
-While everyone was sitting in a short silence after Mammon left the building, he started twiddling with his fingers again the more he thought about it
-Because now he went from nervous to fucking terrified of what the hell was waiting for him when he finally got home
-He does feel guilty, nowhere near as much guilt as Lucifer feels but still pure shame
-However most of that guilt is swallowed by a steady fear and the constant worry of ‘how do I stop my brother from killing me?’
-Unlike Lucifer, I honestly don’t see him taking any sort of initiative when it comes to apologising to Mammon
-Not even because he doesn’t want to, but he would freeze up if he were to come face to face with him after that incident and then scamper back to his room like a rat in hiding
-So without your help, it’s likely the two won’t be speaking to each very soon which can honestly make life at the House of Lamentation so much more miserable
-In the end, if either you or Lucifer forced him to, he would say sorry by selling some of his merch and then giving him the profits (in secret but we all know it’s him)
-That is a big sacrifice on Levi’s part considering how precious his merchandise is to him
-But the idea that he’s gonna get murdered in his sleep by his older brother was getting a tad too real
-Besides, Mammon is still his brother and if he has to sell a couple of items in order to make him less mad, he would do it, albeit with a bit of grumbling
-Despite that, Mammon still refuses to come out of his room and sort of relies on you to bring him food because he doesn’t want to see his brothers
-Levi and Mammon would probably have to rebuild a lot of their relationship after this but it could easily take months for that to happen since Levi is too terrified to look him in the eye and Mammon is too upset to even hear his voice
Satan:
-He wouldn’t be the Avatar of Wrath if he couldn’t spot the anger within someone from a mile away
-He’s always been able to recognise the fury building up inside of him so for Satan it’s second nature to just know when someone’s on the brink of snapping
-It’s no surprise to say that he probably noticed Mammon’s wrath spilling out before anyone else did
-But alas, he realised it too late
-If he had reacted quicker, maybe he would’ve been able to diffuse Mammon before he exploded on them. Or not
-It’s difficult to tell if he could’ve actually helped because who was he to tell Mammon to calm down??? If anyone told him that while he was throwing a fit, he would probably break their necks-
-In the end, he just pressed his lips into a straight line and watched his brother throw his chair across the room
-Not gonna lie, he found it a bit entertaining purely because of the look on Lucifer’s face
-Satan had to try really hard not to crack a smile because he knew Mammon would probably smash a glass against his head or something
-Even so, he was the first to stand up and offer to go after him, though he wasn’t sure he could do much consoling
-Being so experienced with anger meant that he knew Mammon had built himself into a rage that he won’t be able to escape out of too easily
-Which is why he advises Lucifer to give Mammon his space once they get home
-Overall, the most understanding out of all of the brothers
-At this point in time, probably the least judgemental out of everyone and once Mammon comes out of his room for the first time in a while, either him or Beel is going to apologise to him first
-He may push and push him alongside the rest of his siblings but I feel like Satan doesn’t want to reach a certain low, like cornering Mammon into the frenzy he had that day ever again
-He might get pissy with him if he’s being too stubborn to forgive anyone after coming down from his intrusive thoughts
-And he really hates that Mammon had to remind them about all the times you had nearly died because of them, because he knows they won’t be able to make it up to you so why is Mammon upset about this????
-But he will try to maintain respect for his older brother from then on
-Even if the sharpest of remarks is on the top of his tongue!
Asmo:
-Asmo is the type to laugh it off and then start feeling really upset about it later on, the longer he thinks about the whole thing
-After Mammon storms out, he just assumes it’s another one of those ‘Mammon’ things and tried to brush the feeling of unease off him
-Even so, later that night the memory of Mammon kept coming back to him while he laid in his bed, unable to have a nice rest for the first time in how long? He’s always been really strict about his sleeping schedules after all
-Asmo’s observant, almost on par with Satan himself when it comes down to it. He definitely saw the gleam of anger, pent up frustration and hatred in his brothers’ eyes that moment and it legitimately scared him, even if it was for just half a second
-Honestly, he begins neglecting himself out of anticipation and worry which is a huge red flag for the Avatar of Lust who always holds himself at such a superior level compared to everyone else
-It may start out slow, but it has the same effect as a snowball rolling down the hill. It becomes more of a problem the longer it’s ignored
-Because he spends most of his days now debating whether he should try to coax his brother into coming out of his room and apologising to him, he forgets about himself
-Skincare routines are missed, pedicure appointments have been cancelled; hell, if Mammon’s keeps being stubborn, he may let his hair become absolutely filthy
-Asmo sort of relies on his brothers to provide the living environment he revolves around. If something is off with his brothers, he can not work properly either because it doesn’t feel right to do so
-Imagine a machine not working anymore because one of the clogs in it got stuck
-I can see Asmo feeling a decent amount of guilt when it comes to the situation but he still blames Levi for completely pushing him over the edge at dinner
-So now those two aren’t talking (it’s honestly so exhausting since they’re shoving the blame onto each other without stop)
-If Mammon decides to come out and hear them out, Asmo might get on his knees and beg because that guilt bubbling up inside of him may end up being his demise
-No seriously, MC might need to keep an eye out on him too while comforting Mammon because whatever he is doing isn’t healthy
-Takes Mammon’s outburst pretty badly and tries apologising to him many times but the second eldest still hasn’t said a word to any of them
-And that’s driving him into a fucking swirl of insanity at this point
-Of course, much like Mammon’s mental breakdown, this builds up over time but the result can be devasting
-If you pass by his room at night, you could probably hear him sob about how his brother hates him and it’s really heartbreaking to hear pained cries like that coming from such an overly confident demon like Asmo
Beel:
-Literally the only one here that doesn’t dish out insults onto Mammon every hour of the day
-He joins in very rarely and even when he does, it’s usually in good nature rather than malice
-Unless food is involved. Feelings (and Mammon) might be hurt if that’s the case
-Beel wasn’t listening to his siblings as they were diminishing Mammon, he was way too hungry to comprehend what the hell they were on about
-So he just started wolfing down appetisers until he noticed you looking all weary
-That’s the first thing that put him on alert
-And then the second born’s aura was also...off putting
-Might’ve actually tried to nudge Belphie to stop him from saying anything offensive to Mammon in this state when he realised how tense the atmosphere got
-Flinched when his brother left the palace, almost cracking the whole doorway on his way out
-Hunger is all but gone and at this point he wants to go home to check up on him
-Beel is a bit of a softie and he wears his heart on his sleeve a lot of the times
-He never did anything particularly bad to Mammon, not on the same scale his brothers did certainly and yet he still felt extremely bad
-Perhaps because he didn’t step in as much as he should’ve...?
-Either way, when his loved ones suffer, he has a tendency of putting the blame on himself because he feels it’s the only logical answer
-Honestly, he feels guilty enough to the point where it’s affecting his eating habits-which is obviously not normal for the Avatar of Gluttony
-Beel knows Mammon doesn’t want to talk to him but he still brings him food and leaves it at the doorstep of his room since he doesn’t want to come out and have dinner with them
-Or he relies on you to give it to him
-The thought of Mammon being so mad at them that he doesn’t even want to eat makes him feel so vulnerable
-As soon as he sees him for the first time since that night, he will probably be the first to apologise, even if Mammon isn’t in the mood to hear apologies
-Again, he’s trying to use food to make up to him (bringing him his favourites and paying for them)
-Even if he gets ignored, he’s still going to do it
-Beel is trying his best to say sorry to his older brother the only way he knows how to do so, but Mammon still doesn’t give in
Belphie:
-Could’ve been asleep the whole time Mammon was thrashing about
-Or at least that’s what it looked like to the average passer-by
-Kept one eye open to watch as Mammon finally snapped under pressure, having to raise his head once his brother broke the whole god damned table
-“OK, alright, storm off I guess-I have a splinter now-“
-Don’t trust that sarcastic commentary, he’s in deep thought on the inside
-Maybe he should’ve expected this but then again, he never would’ve guessed Mammon had it in him to be so aggressive
-Will narrow his eyes at him when he talks your death and scowl
-As if he didn’t already feel like the world’s biggest piece of shit, he had to bring that up
-As soon as he leaves, he turns to Lucifer and goes “See what you did? You broke Mammon. You suck, Lucifer.”
-The shifting of blame suits Belphie really well (it takes Beel side glancing him to get him to shut up)
-The Avatar of Sloth is too tired to even try to communicate with his brother so he goes straight to bed after getting home
-However, he actually visits Mammon’s dreams that night
-Or at least tries to, if Mammon is getting any sleep after that showdown
-It’s his way of checking in with his brother, helps him evaluate the situation
- Whether that works or not, there was definitely an attempt that required a lot of effort and you don’t see that very often with Belphagour
-It really demonstrates how much he actually cares for his family, even if he hides behind snide remarks and the likes of it
-However, if Mammon refuses communication, then he can’t do anything but give up
-He clearly won’t be able to convince him to step aside for a chit chat and why waste energy trying to force him to do so
-When the time comes, Belphie knows his brother will willingly talk to him (or at least someone else because he knows he’s not any good at comfort or apologies)
-At the same time, a lot of the things Mammon said during that party rubbed him the wrong way and seeing his twin suffer because of it is also pissing him off so patience may be running thin with Belphie
-Like Levi, there may be a lot of ice between the two from then onwards so it won’t be easy for them to find the middle ground in this whole argument either
-It could lead to a strained relationship if no one intervenes or even a physical fight if the youngest pushes all of Mammon’s buttons properly
Diavolo:
-The Future King feels guilty too, for some reason
-He is clearly not involved but he’s under the impression his party was a catalyst of sorts to the fight that broke out that night
-Diavolo wasn’t even in the same room when it happened-he heard shouting and growling from next door whilst talking to a noble about future arrangements in DevilDom and rushed in
-The sight was something to behold really; Mammon cornering all of his brothers and threatening them with pure venom in his voice wasn’t something you saw everyday
-More often than not, it was the other way around so the Prince had every right to be concerned
-He tried asking Lucifer what was going on after the second eldest slammed the door shut behind him and left but to no avail; the Avatar of Pride was in a state of shock and the only thing he did was apologise to him about a million times before his departure with the rest of his siblings
-Despite his worry, Diavolo tried not to get involved in the aftermath either, believing it’s not his place to interfere and hoping they would solve it out amongst themselves
-He did give Mammon permission to miss RAD classes for that week, thinking a small break is what he needed most
-Even drops by every now and then to check up on him (he just asks you how he’s holding up because he doesn’t want to pry)
-He can’t do much but watch from the sidelines, I mean this is a family dispute so it would be wise to just give them all a bit of space
-If it drags on for too long, however, he will be forced to do something because the brothers are all distracted and can’t get on with their student council work because of it
-Lucifer is even more stressed than usual and can’t even focus during their meetings so for the sake of his friend, if nothing gets resolved quickly, he will intervene and it won’t be pretty
-For now, he’s counting on you to make sure there are no further incidents but it’s unlikely you can stop a train once it’s set in motion so just hope Mammon doesn’t come out of his room until he’s calmed down
Barbatos:
-The butler is a Time Lord so it’s probably no surprise to find out he already knew this was going to happen eventually
-Not like he believed Mammon was going to take his brothers’ insults for much longer anyway
-Being the quiet and observant demon he is, he’s been keeping a close eye on the Avatar of Greed knowing damn well he was going to lose his patience soon enough and go on the offence
-If he knew this was going to happen at such an important moment in time, he would’ve warned his majesty beforehand but he failed to see the potential catastrophe awaiting his breakdown
-Again, he has no right to intervene
-Unless, of course, Lord Diavolo asks him to do so but really the most he can do is give you tips on how to deal with miserable demons
-I mean, you’re the one that’s going to be stuck with them for the rest of the year and this isn’t the type of conflict that gets resolved too easily
-Barbatos is clever so if there is still bitterness between Mammon and his siblings after an amount of time passed, he might try to change timelines (with the permission of Diavolo)
-He’s had enough of Beel coming over to eat his cakes and cry about his older brother hating him (believe it or not, the butler is definitely a bit fond of the sixth eldest so his cries did pull at his heartstrings)
-Basically, in the same position as the Prince
-He relies on you to get them all to make up but he knows it’s not likely to happen any time soon
-For now, he’s getting ready for the chain reaction this fight set in motion because there was no easy way to end this, considering they’re all vicious demons and all
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Al~ im mad I couldn’t add Simon, Luke and Solomon-I want to write for them too >:(
#reached my word limit and couldn’t do all the characters >:(#honestly I hope this is good enough#it feels a bit off but I’m too exhausted to do anything else about it#obey me#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me imagines#obey me leviathan#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me satan#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me HCs#om hcs#obey me! one master to rule them all#🌪 angst#💳 mammon supremacy#⭐️ requests
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Sand and Stars - Chapter One
Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?
Pairing: Syverson x OFC x OMC
Word Count: 1750
Warnings: 18+, foul language, some ogling, smut in future chapters
A/N: Thank you again to @thelastsock for being my beta. Written from Sy’s perspective and since I am a woman, venturing in the (not) so complex mind of a man. Enjoy!
<Prologue
Title: Chapter One
Syverson watched as everyone in the camp looked at the two Humvees entering through the gates inside the compound. The chopper came flying behind them, hovering over the area they had prepared for it to land.
With arms crossed over his chest, his signature sunglasses covering his eyes, he looked at the chopper, it’s skids gently being placed on the ground. The blast of air from it’s whirring blades, blew dust and sand for which he shielded his face with his hand. The group of soldiers alighted from their vehicles, their smoother than milk skin making Sy snort. Here they were, his Special Forces guys all scruffy and rough, whereas these new arrivals looked like school kids for a photo op.
When the chopper blades stopped spinning, and the pilots hopped down from their cockpit along with the others; Sy walked up to them. He watched as the main pilot spoke to the unit and pulled off their helmet. The swagger of his walk faltered a step when he noticed her lustrous red hair tied in a bun. It was not very often that lady soldiers came down to a warzone like this.
Instinctively, when he saw she was a woman, his eyes travelled to her bottom. Even with the armored vest and her fatigues, the beautiful curve of her body was highlighted when she bent down to lift her bag. She turned to speak to the other pilot, allowing Sy to finally look at her face. Big brown eyes framed by thick eyelashes were set on her heart-shaped face. Her high cheekbones were freckled, spreading to her nose, and her lips looked full and plump.
It was inconsiderate of the Captain to check out a woman in the middle of a raging war, but he had been high and dry for nearly a year. A man has his needs.
“Captain Syverson, sir?” The other pilot addressed him, he was a young man with the signature crew-cut hair and clean shaved like a boiled egg. His duffel bag laid heavily on his shoulder as he clasped the straps with one hand.
“All day,” Sy said, taking off his sunglasses and hooking it at the back of his t-shirt. “Are you Sergeant Ross?”
Sy’s eyes darted to the approaching men and women when he noticed her walking up to them. Soldier from before brought his hand for a handshake towards Sy which he took with a smile.
“I’m Sergeant Schmidt. She is,” he turned to the red-haired beauty, “Sergeant Ross.”
Sy did not want to come off rude or appear like a male chauvinist, but he wasn’t expecting a woman to be commanding a unit. He raised his eyebrows in surprise which she seemed to catch on to.
“You are Sergeant Ross?” He asked, trying but failing to conceal his astonishment.
“All day,” she said with a smug smile, imitating him by repeating what he had said only a moment ago. “Sergeant Olivia Ross, sir.” She held her hand out, Sy’s eyes darting towards her gloved one. He took her hand in his, noting how hers looked small in his large ones, and gave a confident shake.
“Okay,” He cleared his throat looking at the group of twelve new soldiers at his camp, “We prepared a block for y’all.” He started walking towards the other smaller building besides the main wing. Their new arrivals followed behind him, lugging their bags on their shoulders.
“Keeping us separate, I see.” Olivia commented. Sy turned slightly to look behind him at her. She avoided his gaze, but her face looked unimpressed with her lips sealed tight.
Sy chose to not respond. They climbed up the flights of stairs leading up to the living quarters, bypassing their mess hall and a make-shift gym, and reached the doors to adjacent rooms.
“Guys go in there,” he pointed towards one room, “Ladies, over here.” He turned around to face the group. “Night patrols will be assigned, and I need a group to go with my boys to the village in fifteen minutes.” He folded his arms over his chest, looking directly at Olivia. “We need to get a briefing done.”
“I’ll be down in ten, sir.” she curtly nodded. Everyone seemed to understand her annoyance as they glanced at each other. Sy let out a slow breath, choosing to not address her, again.
When he was back in his office, he pulled out the Echo unit file. Pepps had informed him that women were going to be included in the arriving unit, what he had failed to mention though was that it would be led by a woman. A pretty woman with curves.
Syverson shook his head. He grimaced at his own thought. He was not there to ogle at women, he was there on a mission. He quickly read through the contents of the paper. Sergeant Ross, he gathered, was an enlisted soldier, got promoted to a corporal before she took Aviation course and earned herself a position of helicopter pilot. She got promoted to Sergeant after spending time in Afghanistan and was now leading her own unit.
Sy was impressed. He liked women who were strong and capable, but they were also usually trouble. She already looked miffed about the separate living quarters. In Sy’s defense, he had only thought about making it less uncomfortable for the ladies. Wouldn’t have minded if she had stayed right across from mine though.
He rolled his eyes, exasperated at his train of thoughts yet again. His dick was beginning to strain against the fabric of his pants and as he caught a glimpse of her red-hair heading towards his office, he chose to adjust himself. Because sitting with an erection at their first briefing was not on his agenda today.
“Sir?” Olivia asked, standing at the door with her hands behind her back.
Sy nodded for her to enter. He tried to angle himself in his chair so as to hide his bulge from the Sergeant. “Sergeant Ross,” he cleared his throat, placing the papers back in their place.
“I also go by Liv, sir.” Sy could see the confidence in her eyes glimmer when she spoke. She was fierce, he would give her that. The last time Harper had arrived with his men, they had looked weary and tired. But Olivia looked like she could go to war right now if she was asked to.
“And I go by Sy.” He smirked, watching as Liv spared him a smile. “Are your men ready?”
“Yes. They are getting prepped by your men.”
Sy nodded. There was an empty chair right next to where Liv stood, but she had chosen to stand instead. Typical soldiers. He gestured towards the seat with one hand, “You can take a seat.”
“I’m completely fine here, sir.”
He tried desperately to not let his eyes roam over her body. She had changed from her fatigues to the standard military t-shirt with her cargo pants. It was becoming increasingly difficult to not let his inhibitions down.
He caved.
Sy noted how the fabric stretched over her bosom, curving over her mounds. Her dog tags laid in the valley between her breasts, another silver chain hanging with it. The belt she had cinched at her waist highlighted her figure, making Sy lick his lips. Olivia seemed to be aware of her effect on him, as Sy noticed her fighting a smile.
He coughed and adjusted in his seat as his own soldier came to life again. “Th-the food truck… arrives every week.” He pulled out a map from underneath the table. Spreading it out on his desk, he leaned to point at an ‘X’ marked on it. Olivia took a few steps forward and leaned in too, to understand him better with visualization.
He explained to her the routes they were going to take and the air support they would be needing. All the while she had been standing bent over the table and her face was only a small distance away from him. Sy was aware of their proximity because in this dry desert where all he could smell was gas and sweat, he was getting a whiff of lavender from her.
“What happened to the food trucks from last week? Were you able to get them to the village safely?” Olivia asked. Her eyebrows knitted together in concentration as she looked at the map again.
Sy scratched his beard, looking up to her. “They have set IEDs on the road. We couldn’t even reach the truck. The bastards blew it up as it was turning up the mountain.”
Olivia let out an angry huff and stood up straight. “It’s a good thing we can look from above now.” Sy gave her a nod as she went back to standing with her hands behind her back.
He decided to stand up. In front of him she looked small. Her head barely reached his shoulder and to speak he had to look down. “About the quarters,” he started.
“If I may, sir,” she interrupted him. He gestured at her to speak. “I’m actually thankful for that. Because with your initial surprise at me being a woman and your men looking at us like we are dinner, I’m glad to be staying with the ones I really know.”
“Hey, if you feel vulnerable out here-”
“No sir.” Olivia looked him in the eye. “We are not vulnerable. We do not need you guys to protect us. But we also don’t want to be looked at, like we are for your pleasure.”
Sy understood what she was trying to convey. She hadn’t been fighting a smile earlier. No, she had been fighting a sneer. He clenched his jaw because his mama had raised him to never yell at a woman. He had found her blatant accusation to be rude and being from a higher rank, he could also inflict punishment on her.
But that is not how he worked. And, this was not how he wanted them to start their shared time in this Godforsaken land.
So instead, he decided to be formal. "You are dismissed, Sergeant Ross.”
The challenge in her eyes was somehow arousing for Sy. She had her head held high, her shoulders squared and her back straight. He watched her with furrowed brows as she turned and walked out the door, the confidence in her steps glaringly evident.
Fiery, Sy thought with a renewed smile creeping up on his lips. Just the way I like them.
Chapter Two>
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#captain syverson#captain syverson fanfic#captain syverson x ofc#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#sand and stars series
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11 Hours - part one
Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader
Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.
Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned
A/N: um yes so hello another au and another wip..... dont hate the player hate the game. i hope you enjoy this though! this is my take on a biker!bucky au because we definitely dont have enough of those. let me know your thoughts on this, critiques, predictions, anything! my ask is open. also i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.
title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist
You lie on your stomach, sheets pooled by your ankles, and watch Bucky watch you. One hand propping him up on his side, the other tracing slow, hair-raising circles on your bare back. He’s not really seeing you though, eyes glazed over so they look shiny and huge, big enough to get lost in. You roll away from him, off the edge of the bed and onto your feet.
“Going?” he asks, voice rough. You can’t remember the last time one of you spoke - the time between breathless moans and now seems stretched, like a liminal space you’ve both been sitting in for far too long. It’s time to get back to the real world. You shrug one shoulder, rooting around his bedroom floor for your clothes to redress.
“It’s late,” you say. He huffs an agreement. The two of you didn’t get back to his apartment until after midnight, so who knows the time now.
“Let me call you a cab,” Bucky says, rolling onto his back to pat around the bedside table for his phone. You toss him a look over your shoulder, chosing to ignore him as you pull your skinny jeans up over your ass. Bucky pauses to watch, tongue flicking over his lips and not bothering to hide his grin when you catch him. You throw your jacket at his head which he catches with ease, laughing himself back into the pillows. Ugh, he’s such a menace.
You walk back over to the bed once you get your last shoe on, closing the distance you’d created that was so obvious in the contrast between his bare skin and you, fully dressed. You lean over him, letting him tug you close with a hand on your hip while you pull him up with a grip on his dog-tags. You kiss him, a hard press of lips and a quick swipe of your tongue that he tries to follow but you pull away. He lets you go, rolling his eyes at the tease.
“See ya later, tough guy,” you say, backing up to the door. He tosses your leather jacket back to you, and you catch it with one hand as you head down the hallway. It’s the closest thing you’ll get to a goodbye from him, so you let the front door click shut without another word.
You shrug into your jacket as you race down the stairs of Bucky’s apartment building, heading for the laundry room. It’s not like you know Bucky - all you do is fuck on any day you both happen to be free, starting at a grungy bar in downtown weeks ago and ending here, in some strange friends with benefits situation (minus the ‘friends’ part). He’s hot, and you’re not looking for a relationship, so it’s perfect. Only, something about the scars on Bucky’s knuckles and the motorbike he drives you home on after the bar makes the hair on the back of your neck raise. Something about Bucky is bad news, and you’re not about to get caught up in it just for some (mindblowingly good) sex.
So, you head to the laundry room and climb out the window rather than using the lobby doors. Nobody sees you, and it’s easy to get to if you stand on the dryer in the far right corner. You don’t know why you think someone might be watching Bucky’s apartment, or following you from your late night visits, but your dad always said you were paranoid and it’s never hurt you this far in your life. You swing a leg through the window and drop down into the patchy grass below.
From here you scale the fence into the gym parking lot next door and enter the street that way, nobody the wiser. You stuff your hands in your pockets as you walk down the street, itching for a cigarette or some gum or a pair of earphones, something to keep you company as walk home in the middle of night in New York. There are still people out and about, because of course there are, it’s New York. You make it home without a hitch and immediately head to the shower to wash off the night.
Naked again, before you get under the jet you check your phone. Bucky has texted you - probably a joke or something, his pretence for checking you get home safely. Tough guy my ass, you think as you open the picture he’d sent. He’s holding up the black lace panties you’d been wearing, the one’s he’d pulled off with his teeth and tossed aside without a second thought. Under it, he’s sent another message. Think you forgot something.
Did I really forget them? You try to bite back a grin, because it’s sad to be standing in your bathroom smiling at your phone, but you’re unsuccessful. You watch the three dots under Bucky’s name start and stop, then start again, making your heartbeat pick up. You’d made the oh-so-confident Bucky ‘dont know his last name and don’t need to’ falter. It still gives you a thrill.
Don’t think you’ll be getting them back.
Consider it a present, perv.
You like it
No comment.
You jump in the shower, leaving your phone on the vanity. You can’t leave the shower until you rub one out, the rounds of sex you’d had a mere hour ago long forgotten at the thought of Bucky doing the same thing as you to the panties you’d left behind. Maybe you don’t want to get caught up in whatever shit Bucky is in to set off your paranoia radar, but you certainly want to get caught up in him. If you aren’t already; irreversibly tangled.
***
You never find Bucky, he finds you. Or rather, he gives you a call and you know within a few hours you’ll be at whatever bar or diner he asks you to meet him at, building up the tension until you both can’t take it anymore and go back to his apartment. It doesn’t matter what you say to him, or how many times you say no - you both know you’ll be there.
This time he catches you leaving your dad’s place, pushing through the gate as you put the phone up to your ear. You turn to wave goodbye to your dad in the window he always stands at to see you off towards the subway, and say, “So soon?”
“Hello to you too,” Bucky grumbles, but you know there’s no heat in it. You’re grinning as you dodge pedestrians, tugging your puffer jacket tighter around you with your free hand - the New York winter chill has started to set in and it’s biting through even the hoodie you’re wearing under the jacket.
“Hello, Bucky,” you say, hoping he can pick up on the thick condescension you’re handing him, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I can hang up,” Bucky warns, and you smirk. You’re winning this round, at least.
“Aw, don’t be like that, baby.” You jog down the subway stairs, hoping your line doesn’t cut out as you move underground. It doesn’t, Bucky’s reluctant laugh filtering clear as day through your phone.
“Baby, huh? Moving onto pet names are we, doll?”
You wrinkle your nose, “Ugh, not if they’re from the nineteen forties, no thank you.”
“I’m sure you hate it,” Bucky says, sarcasm heavy. You can hear his eyeroll from here. “What are you doing?”
“Getting on a train,” you say, as you do indeed slip through the almost-closed doors and try to avoid any and all surfaces around you. “What are you doing?”
“Talking to you,” Bucky says, grin audible. It’s your turn to huff now - Bucky never tells you anything about his life, what he’s doing, who he’s with. It’s another thing that makes you think he’s hiding something, but instead of finding it infuriating and a dealbreaker like you should, instead you’re fascinated. Your mission is to figure Bucky out, piece by piece.
There’s a muffled voice on the other line, someone talking to Bucky and you imagine him covering the receiver with one big palm. A hand that you want on you, running down your skin and pressing down over your throat and dipping between-
“You there?” Bucky asks, jolting you out of your daydream. You’re blushing, suddenly too-hot in the layers that were previously not doing enough to ward off the chill.
You clear your throat and say, “Yeah, yeah, sorry, what?”
“Mmhmm,” Bucky says, clearly amused. “I said, I’ve got a favour to ask you. Something a bit different.”
“Oh?” It had been weeks of going to dive bars and underground diners, meeting Bucky in dark corners to drink rum and cokes and eventually fuck each other senseless until you’re sure Bucky must get noise complaints. Never had he once indicated he might want to change the routine you’d set up. Never had he asked you for a favour. To say you were intrigued was an understatement.
“Come to a party with me tonight?” he asks. You have to replay his voice in your head to make sure you heard right, stunned into silence. He takes your pause for a ‘no’, hurriedly filling it with, “I get if it’s a no, but my friend Nat is a drill sergeant and she’ll give me the third degree if I don’t bring-“
“Don’t hurt yourself,” you say, interrupting his nervous ramble. You’d never heard Bucky sound anything but aggressively confident before. It’s throwing you for more of a loop than his invitation. A large part of your brain tells you to say no. You don’t trust Bucky, really - you barely know him. But thats why you want to say yes. Going to this party might change that. “I’ll go. What time?”
“Eight tonight,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief. “I owe you one.”
“Yeah, you do,” you laugh. You organise to meet at his apartment, not quite ready to give him your address yet, and hang up. Your mind is reeling, sure everyone on the train must feel the impact of that phone call, too.
They’re all going about their business as if something monumental hasn’t just happened. Bucky has invited you into his life, to meet his friends, as his date. What happened to not-friends with benefits? What if this changes the arrangement you’ve carefully cultivated, so perfect for your independent lifestyle and Bucky’s obvious commitment issues?
The temptation is too much. You practically run home when you get off at your stop, anxious to get ready. You’re about to get a few more pieces of the Bucky puzzle and you have to look good for it.
***
Bucky stops you in the front hall of the house, a hand on your arm as he stares down at you. He looks comically large in the tiny Brooklyn town house, even if it is ten times nicer and more beautiful than your place will ever be. The party filters in from further inside the house, loud music and laughter and the obvious clink of beer bottles sounding muffled through the bubble of you and Bucky.
“My friends are… a lot,” he says, drawing his lip between his teeth. You tilt your head at him, amused by what you can only assume is nerves radiating off Bucky. He rolls his eyes at you, kisses you on the forehead quickly, and adds, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I can handle myself, tough guy,” you say as he tugs you by the hand through to the living room where the party is in full swing.
“I hope you’re not calling that punk ‘tough’, lady,” a man calls out from the couch, pointing the neck of his beer at Bucky. His tone sounds aggressive but the wide, gap-toothed smile he gives says otherwise. He gets up and pulls Bucky into one of those manly half-hugs. Bucky doesn’t drop your hand as he pats the guy on the back, and you try in vain not to read too much into that.
“Sam, this is (Y/n),” Bucky says, and to your surprise Sam pulls you into a hug as well. You make wide eyes at Bucky over Sam’s shoulder but he just smirks, clearly amused. He’s still holding your hand.
“Nice to meet you!” Sam exclaims, a bit too loud in your ear but you don’t mind. His happiness is infectious. “Come meet Natasha, she’s going to love you.”
“Why’s that?” you ask, letting yourself be led by Sam with an arm over your shoulders to the couch he’d just vacated. Bucky drops his grip but follows too-close behind you, his body heat almost like a physical touch on your back, reminding you he’s there. You wonder if he’s nervous about what you’re going to say to his friends, or what his friends are going to say to you.
“Because,” Sam says cryptically. You roll your eyes - he’s sounds just like Bucky.
Sam stops in front of the redhead woman he was sitting next to when you entered, dropping the arm from your shoulders. She immediately stops her conversation and stands up, giving you a once over with a smirk tucked tight in the corner of your mouth. You try not to feel intimidated but it’s hard - she’s beautiful, and scary, and did you mention beautiful? She shoots an amused look to Bucky over your shoulder, and in response Bucky rests his fingertips on the small of your back. Barely there, but just enough.
“You’ve brought someone, James,” she says, turning her attention back to you and holding a hand out. “Natasha, lovely to meet you.”
“(Y/n),” you say, taking her hand. It’s soft - you half expected her to break your hand. “Thank you for having me.”
“Oh, you’re adorable,” she says, and you don’t bother hiding your frown. You don’t like feeling condescended and Natasha seems to be exuding that in palpable waves. Bucky must feel you stiffen because he steps closer, if possible, and slides the hand on your back around to grip your hip.
“Nat,” he says, with warning, and you glance up at Bucky to find him having some kind of silent stare off with Natasha over your head. Eventually he looks back down to you, smiling a bit and squeezing your hip, don’t worry about her. To you, he says, “Let’s go say hi to Steve.”
“See you later, (Y/n),” Nat says, wiggling her fingers in a wave as you follow Bucky to the kitchen. You ignore her, stepping closer to Bucky on instinct as you weave through people packed wall to wall. That was weird, but what did you expect? Bucky did warn you.
Steve turns out to be a giant blonde teddy bear who sweeps Bucky into a hug that lifts him onto his toes. It’s endlessly funny to see huge, muscled, intimidating Bucky being manhandled by a touchy, clearly tipsy behemoth. Bucky doesn’t let it stand for too long, though, bringing Steve into a headlock and sending them both tumbling into the kitchen bench.
“Jerk,” Steve gasps when Bucky lets him go, eyes narrowing. Bucky grins, breathless, and punches him on the shoulder.
“Punk,” he says fondly. You’re mesmerised. You’d wanted to see more of Bucky’s life but you never expected this. It’s like watching him with his family, and it makes something soft and fuzzy swell in your heart which is bad. Very, very bad. Maybe you shouldn’t have come.
Steve finally notices you’re there and you do the normal introductions, watching your hand disappear in his huge one as he shakes it. They’ve all been very welcoming, in their own ways, you notice (bar Natasha, but something tells you she’s always like that). They don’t seem to question your sudden appearance at their party or with their friend, holding Bucky’s hand and being tucked into his side as he passes you a beer and gets to talking about things you have no hope of following. You’re happy just to watch Bucky, smiling and laughing with pointed teeth and crinkles by his eyes. You still don’t really understand why you’re here, but you’re not going to question it. This feels like a stolen moment, something you’re not meant to see and might not see again so you try and commit as much to memory as you can.
The night goes on, talking with Sam and Steve and Natasha who appear to be Bucky’s closest friends and the only ones he bothers making time for. Bucky doesn’t stop touching you the entire time. At first you think it’s nerves, but the more you observe the party around you when the conversation turns to something you can’t contribute to, the more you think it’s for everyone else rather than Bucky’s nerves. You catch a lot of people eyeing his hand on your hip or his arm around your shoulders, or just looking at Bucky in general. Hardly anyone interrupts your little party of five but not for ignoring you - it’s almost like they revolve around you, in tune to the groups’ every movement, but they wouldn’t dare approach. It’s weird. You try not to look too hard into it but your dad is right. You’re paranoid.
Eventually it’s just you and Bucky sitting on a bench outside, a canopy of fairy lights casting shadows from his unfairly long eyelashes as he looks down at your entwined hands in his lap. You tug against his grip, causing him to look up at you and you almost lose your train of thought. Bucky’s eyes are searing blue, the hottest part of the flame.
“You’re being very possessive tonight,” you say, squeezing his hand for emphasis. He doesn’t look away from your eyes, cocking his head to the side and you have the distinct feeling you’re being tested.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks. You don’t answer straight away. Truth be told, you have no idea what’s going on. You went from fucking Bucky on a semi-regular basis, keeping it at strangers who bone and nothing else, to being glued to his side at a party with his closest friends in what feels like no time at all. Whiplash, is what you feel. You don’t think you hate it, though.
“I never said that,” you tell Bucky, and watch as his face morphs from calculating to that shit-eating, confident smirk you’ve come to know. You’re relieved to see it, the sparkle of his eyes as he leans closer to you in the dark of the garden. This, at least, you know.
“You’ve done well tonight,” he says, and you hate how you glow at the compliment when you should be rolling your eyes. “I know I’ve asked a lot.”
“It’s alright Bucky,” you say, smiling at his seriousness. You’d think he’s asked you to commit a crime or something. “Although, I don’t know why you needed me here. I’m glad you did, but…”
“But you thought I only wanted you, to fuck you?” he finishes, kicking his eyebrows up in amusement. You hate the way you blush, ducking your head from him to try and hide it.
“I feel like that was a very logical conclusion,” you say defensively. What else had he given you? You didn’t even know his last name.
He takes your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back up to look at him. He’s smiling soft, not condescending at all, and he moves his hand to cup your cheek in his palm and hold you there, looking at him.
“Maybe this was a test,” he says, licking his lips. Biding time. “To see if I can trust you.”
“Do you?” you ask, eyebrows kicking up.
“Jury’s still out,” he says with a grin, light-hearted, playing it off as a joke but you know from the look in his eyes that he’s being somewhat serious. He looks out at the garden then, still holding you close, and says almost thoughtfully, “My friends like you, though. Even Natasha.”
You scoff at that, and he turns back to you with that crinkly, squishy smile he gave to Steve before. It catches you off guard, enough to not see the kiss before it comes but you catch up as fast as you can. You want to slide into his lap and run your fingers under his shirt, but that’s probably a bit inappropriate in front of a bunch of people you just met. You settle for a frustrated groan against his mouth, biting his lip and tugging so he’s forced to chase you against the back of the bench, crowding your space. He drops your hand to slide his up your thigh, fingertips dangerously close to your crotch, kissing you hard enough to bruise. His tongue in your mouth is scalding, stubble against your skin a delicious burn, and you would’ve gotten lost in it if it weren’t for the very pointed cough from behind Bucky’s shoulder.
It’s Natasha, standing with her arms folded and a smile hidden somewhere in the green of her eyes. You try to mentally will away the flush in your cheeks as Bucky pulls back, hand still on your thigh but turning to glare at Natasha. You find yourself somewhat hiding behind the bulk of his shoulder despite yourself, letting him take the reins.
“Steve is puking,” she reports, raising one eyebrow. “Sam requests your assistance.”
“Fucking ‘course he does,” Bucky grumbles roughly, getting to his feet. Right before he storms away he pauses, leans back down to kiss you again, and then he’s back on a warpath through the house. Other guests part for him like the red sea, and you watch with furrowed eyebrows as they also seem to watch him go. He never goes anywhere without an audience. Perhaps you were right to be paranoid about him.
Natasha is still standing there when you blink yourself back to the garden, watching you with an unreadable expression. You straighten your holey, vintage t-shirt under your leather jacket and stand, not enjoying the power difference with her standing above you. You wish Bucky had taken you with him, even though you didn’t particularly want to watch Steve throw up everywhere. It would be preferable to being stuck under Natasha’s x-ray vision, though.
“I like your boots,” she says. It takes you aback - such a typical girl thing to say at a party to someone you don’t know, and Natasha doesn’t give you ‘typical’. You glance down at your Docs, and then back up at her pretty sundress with a sexy v-cut. Sure you do, you think sarcastically, as you both stand there like night and day.
“Thanks,” you manage to say, “And again, for inviting me. The party’s been great.”
“Has it?” she asks, and why do you feel like she’s asking three questions at once? As if sensing your apprehension, she smiles and adds, “Just, I know we’re a bit full on and being the new girl at a party is always difficult.”
You blink, surprised once again. The sincerity throws you for a loop, as everything seems to with Natasha. You say, “I mean, yeah, but you guys are great. You all seem really close, it’s- nice. Like a family.”
Something flashes in Natasha’s eyes, that amused little smirk returning to her face that fills your gut with dread. Was it something you said?
“Come on,” she says, and just as you think you can’t be surprised by this woman anymore, she winds her arm with yours and starts leading you back into the house. Throwing you a conspiratorial look you’re not sure you’ve earned, she says, “Let’s go find the boys. I’m sure Steve’s finished throwing up by now.”
Part Two
~~~~~ please let me know what you think!
#bucky x reader fic#bucky barnes x reader fic#bucky x reader#reader insert fic#biker!bucky#biker au#avengers fic#pov fic#au fic#bucky barnes fic#bucky fic#bucky barnes#natasha x reader#steve rogers#sam wilson#11 hours
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do Hawks with a support engineer s/o? Like they make his support items (not that he uses many) and upgrade his costume and he takes that time to flirt and make them flustered and it’s all really cute and fluffy
Ooookay, hear me out! I started this as some cute hcs but I decided I'd rather write a small fic since I somehow felt if would be better and ended up sticking with it in hopes you don't mind. I really hope it's what you wanted and that you like it 💕💞💕
Word count: 1.5k~

Keigo really didn't pay much attention to his support department; he knew he had one, of course, yet anything that needed to be tested by him would've had to be approved and re-approved by his higher ups, then passed to his side-kicks, and then, with luck it would reach him.
One day everything in his life changed as a request to test a new pair of goggles was placed on his desk by his secretary. His last pair has been smashed in a small battle with what seemed an insignificant villain so this seemed like the perfect time to test new prototypes.
He sighed, getting up from his chair in a stretch, scratching his stubble in wonder. Does he even know where his support department is?
You sighed, checking the tiny locators on your desk through a frown. The past few weeks have been exhausting to say at least.
When you first arrived at Hawks', The Hawks' Hero Agency as a junior support designer life seemed like it was heading into the right direction, yet as you reached your first month mark, the fact that there weren't any other junior designers started to make so much sense. Nobody payed any attention to the newbies, which was infuriating, degrading, unmotivating... but you had to fight through and not quit as the last ones did. It was a competitive business and you almost reached the bottom of the top, why settle there? So as your superior ignored you, you started learning more about your Hero's costume and it surprised you to note that he barely had any supporting items. Hell, even those goggles were... plain? He could do so much more! And as you made plans and started building, you made reports of all the prototypes created and jumped to send them to the higher-ups without even informing your seniors. It never hurts to try, right?
"Ah, finally, I've been running around in this building for-e-ver!" Someone said behind you, startling the living hell out of you which ended up with paperwork thrown everywhere.
You turned in shock already recognizing the voice behind you. Your eyes, wide as plates, landed on the man that you've been studying meticulously for the past few months.
Crimson feathers surrounded you as an amused smirk formed on his features. They started catching and picking up the papers surrounding your figure and gently placing them on the desk.
"Well, hello there~." He said, stepping in your office with curiosity, sharp eyes taking in his surroundings with just a glance then setting back on you.
"Mister Hawks." You cleared your throat and adjustes your apron.
"Mister? How old do you think I am, dove?" He said, shaking his head and laughing.
Ah, great, now I insulted my boss. You dryly thought.
"23, sir." he gasped, putting a hand on his chest.
"Sir?!?" before you could apologize, if there was something to apologize for, he continued in a dramatic way. "How could I allow an angel to call me sir? Please, it's just Hawks." He smiled and you squirmed in place.
You heard he was easy going, a very laid back yet lovely individual, but the way he called you any nickname in the book made your cheeks burn. You avoided his eyes, as they were intensely observing you, and cleared your throat.
"What do I owe the pleasure, sir—" you stopped yourself as he opened his mouth and lifted his finger to, you assumed, scold you "—Hawks...?"
"Oh? You don't know?" He looked around trying to find something, his face lighting up when spotting it. "I came to test a new pair of goggles, of course!"
It's then when you really took in the condition of your office. A disaster. The higher-ups sent Hawks there without even notifying you! You could've cleaned up! And they sent Hawks to test your goggles! THE OFFICE IS A MESS AND THE NUMBER 2 HERO IS IN IT TO TEST YOUR—!
"Oh, my god..." you muttered, not really believing it's really happening. It's the same reaction you had when you landed this job yet now it was turning into reality.
"Sorry to interrupt that train of thought—" he paused. "Excuse me, I don't even know your name. The audacity!"
"Oh! It's [L/N] [Y/N], sir."
"Hawks." His smile, which was heartwarming, never left his face.
"Hawks." You repeated, heart hammering in your chest even when being playfully scolded by your boss.
"So! What's a beautiful little feather like you doing in a place like this?" He inquired, obviously way too into the moment. Keigo could feel your beating heart from where he was standing and could clearly read your amazed expression. He guessed you were new in the department and gave himself a lecture about not coming here beforehand. With a sight like you he would've been in the support department every single day.
At the same time as he was taking you in, you needed to do something to keep yourself busy from his face, his voice and his words, so you turned around and started cleaning up a little bit. He called me a beautiful little what now? you panicked, dreading you'd bite your tongue or something when answering back.
"I work here." Nice one, [Y/N]. you cringed in place. But instantly deducted it would be better to maintain a professional environment instead of leading on what seemed to be just a flirty attitude.
"I can see that, yes." Keigo really tried to keep himself from chuckling. How could such an adorable being exist in his close proximity and he didn't notice? In any way, the blond felt bad for making you nervous so he deflected the situation. "About those goggles then!"
"Oh, yes!" You turned towards him with a smile, the excited sparkle in your eyes taking his breath away for a second. "First of all, I'm sorry about the mess, I wasn't informed you were coming—"
"Oh, we can change that from now on." He chimed in, earning a pause and a tilted head in confusion from you. "If you give me your number I could tell you whenever I'm coming! Easy!"
Have you ever had a moment where your brain stopped functioning for a whole minute? Exactly that happened.
"You could— ehem, you could tell your secretary to inform me before you arrive." You sheepishly said, still trying to deflect in the best way you could. He had such an ease to make you embarrassed, apart from the fact that you didn't know for sure if he was playing with you or not. Remain professional. Not like you could be as smooth as him anyway...
"Aww." He pouted.
"The goggles!" You jumped, trying to distract yourself from that sight.
As you settled them in front of him and started explaining every new detail about them, such as the new auto face-recognition they had implemented, voice command, personalized A.I. and more, he could only watch you in wonder. A few moments ago you were overwhelmed and flustered at his behaviour, which he wouldn't lie, he really enjoyed to see, but this confident person talking so passionately about their work made him beam. He took in your features, the complex words you threw at him settling in the backround of his mind as he noted he'd have to ask you what they meant just to have the excuse to get to hear you talk again and again. He didn't know why he loved the way you wrinkled your nose when you told him how hard it was to get access to the national database, he definitely didn't know why he savored the way your giggle made his good ol' heart skip a beat, he absolutely had zero idea why he was entranced by the way your lips curved in a smile...
Oh, he knew. Of course he knew.
"Could you add Spotify?" He found himself asking.
"... What?" You blinked stupidly at him.
"Or Netflix. Can you add Netflix?"
"I— What?" He snickered.
"Can you?"
"I mean, yes—" Did he brush off your whole work just to ask you to add Netflix?
"Great! Can you do it by tomorrow?"
"Y-yeah?"
"Awesome! How do you like your coffee?"
"Uhm, why?" You muttered.
"Because I will drop by and I'd like to treat you with coffee."
"Oh, that's nice. Thank you, it's—" you told him your favorite coffee in wonder as you watched him play with the goggles casually. Is this Hawks? A flirty airhead?
The goggles sounded absolutely amazing, no doubt of that, but he definitely needed an excuse to come by tomorrow, also giving him time to come with other excuses to return again and again after that. Something told him he had to see your beautiful face again and he was the type of man to trust his instincts.
"Okay, noted." He nodded to himself. "I'm sorry to say it's my time to patrol but at least I found a loop-hole to keep seeing you!"
How could one single man make you short-circuit twice in such little time span? Your absolutely baffled expression was worth a million bucks in Keigo's opinion and the adorable little lip pursing that followed was the cherry on top.
Yet what he didn't expect was for you to grin through your flustered expression.
"I'll add some actually good pick-up lines as a widget in the corner too, then." You shrugged.
And seeing Hawks baffled? Nothing else topped that.

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The Queen's visit
Summary: With Queen Luna visiting Alfea, Farah has to keeps quiet at her aggressions, Griffin hasn't.
A/N: I know I said I was gonna post this last night but my dad got drunk and my dog broke a lot of stuff, so here, have a cute fanfic, as usual, english ain't my first language so I did the best I could.
Warning: none
Words: 1,2k
Characters: Farah Dowling | Faragonda, Griffin, Queen Luna.
-----------------------
Twice per year if not more Luna had developed the bothering act of visiting the school for a check-up. Those days had been misery incarnated for Farah, but the Queen was the Queen and after all she was in her lands.
Dressed in a long trench coat Farah stepped out of her office and strolled downstairs, she reached the front doors and noticed the cars far away from the entrance, she had a minute at most. She felt something in her shoulder and turned around to a red eyed raven, she smiled and caressed its feathers.
"Air support, huh?"
The moment the cars drove pass the gates the raven left her shoulder and flew to a near by tree. Farah straighten her coat and waited for Luna to get out of the car, she bowed her head a little and greeted her.
"Queen Luna, pleasure to see you"
"Pleasure to see you too, Farah." The woman walked inside the building and Farah followed, there goes the air support.
They discussed pleasantries for a while, they covered most of the school, they lacked the specialists training area.
"You know dear, I have some oils to recommend if you want. Your skin seems to be absorbing all your stress." Said Luna smiling to her, passive aggressive behavior was kind of her thing. Farah smiled tightly and they walked toward the specialists. She felt the raven fly over their heads and next to Saul, far over the field. They reached them after a while, both of them feeling Farah's discomfort, the headmistress held her head up but her eyes showed doubt.
"Queen Luna" said both Griffin and Saul bowing.
"Headmaster Silva, Headmistress Griffin" she replied.
Farah felt the aura of protection surround her, she looked away from the training and into the purple haired woman, whom smiled to her and focused back on something Luna was saying. Comments on their skills at teaching filled the air, interrupted by a first year specialist falling into the water and swimming to the shore, later realizing it was where they were standing, soaked he looked up and noticed the four adults standing at him, he gulped. Bowing he moved away fast and reached for a towel, only to have all the water away from him with a flicker of Farah's hand, he looked back and gave her a small smile and a nod. 'Thanks'.
"I think it's time for some tea, don't you think, Farah?" Luna spoke and began walking towards the school without waiting for an answer, Farah hurried after her and gave Griffin and Saul a grimace, Saul answered with a thumbs up and Griffin with a side smile. They were half way through the lawn when Luna spoke again.
"I know that you love teaching, but I don't know how you can manage to live here without a partner, I would find it impossible not to have a family, no one to go back home to. Don't you ever feel lonely? The students will leave at some point after all" Luna had faux worry all over her face and Farah felt an ache on her chest.
"You get used to it. The students are more important, their education comes first." She half smiled to her and walked all the way to the building.
A couple hours later, Griffin walked into their suite, she had trained for a while with the specialists and needed a shower and her bed, it had been a long time. She opened the door and hung her coat by it, shoes off she walked past the kitchen and into the living room area, Farah looked up at her scrunching her face and closed her eyes, tension in her body. Shit she had messed it up. There in the living room was Farah, sitting on the sofa with Queen Luna on the armchair across from her, sipping on a cup of tea. Queen Luna's eyebrows shot upwards and looked at Griffin with shock.
"Well, well, isn't this a surprise" spoke the Queen resting the cup on the table. Griffin saw as Farah's head hung and the tension building up in her body.
"When you mentioned tea I figured it would be in the office." Said Griffin rooted to her spot trying not to stare at any fairy.
"I was wondering what Farah's suite would be like, I have to admit it is brighter than I thought."
"We decided to have tea here instead" said Farah turning to her again. The night was setting outside the window and Griffin doubted whether to stay or leave. Marvelled at the new discovery Queen Luna urged her to sit on the sofa.
"Come on, you don't have to be all weird because I'm here, I'm Farah's friend."
Farah wanted to roll her eyes but she had to admit that having caught Luna out of guard was rather pleasant. Griffin got another cup of tea and walked to the sofa, giving Farah a kiss on the head a she went by, slightly caressing her shoulder. Queen Luna smiled at them "I'm glad Farah finally found someone, thought she was going to be a weird loner all her life" Farah let the harmful comment pass but Griffin didn't.
"Finally? We've been together for over 20 years. Rather longer than your marriage if I recall correctly" Griffin gave a pleasant smile and sipped her tea. Farah could see the mixed feeling burning under Luna's feature, she avoided the Queen's gaze by looking at her cup.
"Why did you choose to keep it a secret, then?" She snapped.
"Who said it is a secret?" She took a sip of her cup "Everyone here and in Cloud Tower knows we are together" Griffin answered fast, she knew better than to pick at Luna, but she hadn't grown in her kingdom, she wasn't afraid of her.
They stood in silent for a few minutes faux smiles on their faces. Luna stood up and looked at them.
"It's getting late, I shall leave" both women stood up and followed her to the door. Farah made it to follow the Queen outside but was stopped by Griffin.
"Training with the specialists killed me, I'll take a shower and then go to bed" she whispered by her ear, loud enough she knew Luna could hear. "Hurry up", she kissed under her ear and pushed her to Luna. Suppressing her smile Farah gazed at Luna and both of them walked downstairs to the entrance, any hurtful comment being ignored completely.
When Farah made it back to the suite Griffin was already on bed, brushing her hair. Farah ran to her and pressed her to the bed, climbing on top of her and sitting over her hips. The purple haired chucked as Farah pecked all over her face.
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you" Griffin secured her arm around her waist "Thank you so much" Farah rested her head against Griffin's chest smiling.
"Did she say anything else to you?" Griffin looked at her and Farah kissed where she was laying. "Farah, speak to me" she let her hands wander on the mind fairy's back. With a huf she spoke softly. "She said she could recommend some oil for my skin, that the stress was affecting it". Griffin let go a laugh that made her sit up, Farah moved away from her chest and stared at her.
"What's so funny?"
"You my dear have the most wonderful skin, don't listen to her" she kissed her cheeks and nose, then holding her to her chest again.
#Faragonda x Griffin#Griffin x Faragonda#winx faragonda#winx griffin#wlw#drabble#wlw drabble#Queen Luna#Farah Dowling
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What Kind of Man
Warnings: Possessive behaviour, forced feeding
AO3 <<<Previous
Chapter 11: Performance
You avoided dinner that night, choosing instead to go straight to bed. Your sickness and the letters giving you a headache. Before you slept, you placed some of the flowers in a vase on your nightstand, hoping to ward off whatever was in this house.
As you began to drift off, the covers were yanked off you, exposing you to the cool air.
“You are in no state to be refusing dinner!” scolded Michael. He stood in his robe, Mrs Mead behind him with a tray of food.
“I’m not hungry,” you said, attempting to reach for the covers. He turned to Mrs Mead, who handed him the tray and left you both alone. The smell of the food made your stomach grumble, but you still turned away when Michael brought the spoon to your mouth.
“Turn around and don’t be petulant.”
You rolled your eyes and refused to turn to him. You heard him huff before he forcefully turned your face to him. You refused to open your mouth, glaring at him. He had enough, pinching your nose so you’d be forced open your mouth to breath. Tears began to fall as you had to open your mouth. Michael shoved the hot spoon in your mouth, not letting the soup cool and burning your tongue.
“Now swallow like a good girl,” he ordered.
You closed your eyes and swallowed the burning liquid. Wincing as it reached your stomach.
“Now Y/N, you better have finished this bowl before I get back from my study, or else ill pour it down your throat. Do you understand?” he threatened.
You nodded and that was enough for him. He left you alone with the meal. You reluctantly began to eat, fearing what more could happen.
You pulled the covers over you after finishing your meal, not wanting to talk to Michael at all. He returned a few moments later, passing off the tray to Mrs Mead. You turned away from him as he crawled in beside you. He sighed and pulled you back against his chest, trapping you in his tight hold. Nothing was said as you drifted off.
////
You were sat at breakfast, picking at your food.
“I have some news,” Michael interrupted your train of thought. You looked up at him inquisitively.
“we will be going to see a play tomorrow evening,” he stated.
“Why?”
“Xavier Plympton’s play is having its final performance in the city nearby he is a good friend of mine. Your brother knows him. Some of the girls you met at Robichaux are part of the cast. There will be an afterparty here at the castle”
“Will Mallory be there?”
Michael looked at you like you were stupid, “Of course she will, she’s my primary beneficiary and their best performer.”
You just smiled and nodded.
////
The library must have held more answers. You had a few hours to look for more clues. At first you went to check the cavity you found last night, to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. It was still there along with the letters. The library must have been built with more. Instinct told you to go to the opposite end; hopefully someone appreciated symmetry when building it.
You were right, a little bit of pushing and the second alcove gave way. A similar box inside.
The handwriting was different on these envelopes. The wax seal had no crest. They were addressed to the USA.
You took a deep breath and unsealed the letter.
‘Dear Father,
It worries me that you haven’t replied to my letters. Is mother okay? Trevor? Our trip around Europe is coming to a close, yet Duncan seems more distant with me that ever before. I thought we’d become closer but there stills seems to be a gap. I always thought that it was rumour that the Shepherd dynasty was unwelcoming to their brides, but I know it’s true now. He’d rather spend the night in the streets than with me. I hope this doesn’t continue after the wedding. Our final destination is a ball some Count is holding. Apparently, his new wife is being introduced to society. I wonder if he loves her. Duncan speaks highly of his friend.
I hope this letter arrives and that you send me an answer for once
Love, Coco’
Why were Coco’s letters in your home? Why had they been left unsent? The was a simple folded piece of paper in the box, the same address as the letters before on one of the sides. You unfolded it to read its contents.
‘Please send a priest. Send some help. I have been trapped here. These men are beasts. They just sat and watched as the other’ The ink was smudged.
‘I have sent this with that sweet maid, reward her well. Please save me.’’
You reread the paper twice, before folding it and putting it back in the box. Coco never reached the States. You know that she didn’t get on that ferry back. The scream you heard that night must have been hers.
Whatever had happened to Madison, had happened to Coco. And it would happen to you too. The fact that the letter was given to a maid, but was in this box, meant that none of the staff could be trusted, not even the twins.
You put the box away and clicked the façade shut. Thinking about a way to get out of this castle before it became your coffin.
Your head began to spin as you left the library. You moved towards the garden to get some fresh air, but the sunlight made you recoil. Your eyes felt sensitive to the sun, making your head feel worse. You held onto the wall, trying to make your way to your room. Your mouth felt so dry, and your forehead was damp with sweat. You fell to the ground with a loud ‘thud’, the sound of running and a pair of fine leather shoes coming towards you the last thing you saw before your eyes snapped shut.
////
You woke to the sound of muffled voices. Your tried to make out the whispering, but the harder you concentrated, the more your ears rang. You groaned in pain and frustrating, alerting the room that you were awake.
You vision was blurry, but you were surrounded by Michael, Mrs Mead and Dr Montgomery. Michael was speaking to you, but his voice was still muffled, as if you had your head underwater. You tried to speak, but no words came out of your mouth.
Mrs Mead handed Michael a cup. He held you up and put it to your lip, making you drink the warm, sweet liquid down. You greedily drank, feeling better with each gulp, the fuzziness beginning to clear.
“Good evening Lady Langdon how are you feeling now?” asked Dr Montgomery.
You thought about your answer, squinting to focus on him, “a little… hazy still. My head has been hurting a lot recently,” you explained.
“Ah yes, Mrs Mead and the Count also explained your vomiting and fluctuating appetite.”
You nodded in response.
“It’s just a little bug, you must have caught it in Paris and the symptoms are developing now, but they should pass soon.”
He had lied to you again, you knew it.
He moved to check your temperature and the focus of your eyes. Giving you the clear and leaving a prescription with Mrs Mead.
“Make sure you follow the guidelines and keep your eating regular, even if you don’t want to,” with that he and Mrs Mead left, leaving you alone with Michael.
You just wanted to sleep again, resting your head back on the pillow. You heard Michael shuffling around before he got in beside you.
“You always worry me little dove, I thought you might have cracked your skull open with how loudly you fell,” his voice was soft.
“Where are you? You feel so far from me recently. Sometimes I feel like your somewhere else, like you’ve put your walls back up,” he ran his fingers through your hair.
“I’m just sick,” you sleepily murmured, not wanting him to see what you really were thinking.
He pulled your head to his chest with a sigh, “It will pass, I promise you it will pass.”
His actions and the softness of his voice lulled you to sleep.
////
Today was an exciting day for you, you had never seen a play before. Michael had let you see the ballroom get decorated for the party you would be hosting in the evening. You were in awe of the speed at which the staff worked. The hustle and bustle of the day took your mind off the mystery of your Husband. It could wait another day.
The opera house itself was stunning, having been partially funded by the Langdon family when it was first built. It seemed like Michael’s ancestors knew nothing other than living in excess. A tradition your husband seemed to have continued religiously.
The performance itself had you mesmerised. The dancers were oh so elegant. You saw now why Mallory earned her title. The writing of the play was phenomenal, making it clear that Mr Plympton was a Hawthorne alumnus; it had you sucked in from the first note. Michael however, had spent the evening staring at you and at Mallory, you had slapped his hand away from you one too many times.
You were allowed backstage at the end of the performance, presenting flowers to Mallory and Xavier long with drinks for the rest of the cast.
“So, this is the Countess? You are far too beautiful to be on the arm of my friend over here. I’m Xavier my Lady, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you,” Xavier said, kissing your hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too Mr Plympton, my husband has sung many praises about your work, now I can see why.”
“Oh, I sang many praises for him back in the day too, don’t you worry,” Xavier winked at Michael, the innuendo flying over your head.
Michael cleared his throat to interrupt the conversation, “I do believe we have a party to host tonight and we mustn’t be late.”
Everyone nodded and smiled in agreement, making their way to the waiting transport.
////
The party itself seemed wilder than the ball you held a month ago. That was high society. This was libertines and bohemians. Although an entertaining crowd to watch, not one you wanted to participate in. You had decided not to drink that night, not wanting to bring on another headache. You might have enjoyed yourself more if you had you thought.
“No wine tonight Lady Langdon?” asked Mallory.
You laughed and shook your head. You were standing on the balcony, overlooking the garden, the party in full swing behind you.
“I think I drank to much at the dinner hosted by Robichaux,” you replied.
It was her turn to giggle, “Oh yes I remember, I think you had a full bottle by the end of the night. I saw you roll your eyes and lose interest in that conversation. It was quite funny actually.”
You both looked at each other and laughed, thinking back to that night.
“Yes well, sometimes the count begins to speak, and I don’t really care for it, so I just stop listening.”
“I don’t think he’d be happy about that,” Mallory pointed out, taking a swig and finishing her glass.
“mmm happy about what,” Xavier slurred out, he wrapped his arms around Mallory’s waist and rested his chin on her head, his face was flush with a stupid grin plastered across it.
The sight of the pair drunkenly swaying brought a smile to your face. How nice its must have been, to not be subject to the rigid structures of the society you lived in. To be able to do whatever you wanted, without a care in the world. You wondered what type of woman you’d be if your upbringing wasn’t so strict or sheltered. Would you have confronted Michael? Would you have married him in the first place? You thought about it now. You never had the chance to say ‘no’. your father and brother had made all your life decisions up to this point. And now it seemed that Michael was doing the same. You wondered what freedom tasted like. Was it sweet? Did it have an aftertaste?
Your thoughts were interupped by Michael’s hands on your hips.
“What ahs you so deep in thought my love?”
You looked up to the stars, taking in the vastness of the night sky.
“Nothing really, maybe about our place in the universe. All the events that have led us to where we our now. Maybe fate or higher power,” you rambled.
“I think you might have enjoyed the philosophy lessons we had back at Hawthorne.”
“I care not for man of ages past, only the here and now,” you sighed again, leaning back onto Michael’s shoulder. “It’ll be a shame when winter comes. Such a beautiful garden will be barren for months. Almost as if it will never live again. But then, the spring comes, and it is reborn.”
“Life is a strange thing, there’s some things that are almost immortal, but we do not remember them. Then humans, mortal beings that leave their mark. Fascinating isn’t it? Michael mused.
You were interrupted by Xavier.
“We must get going. Mallory and the girls leave for Paris in the morning, so they must get to their lodgings and rest.”
You nodded and Michael and Xavier walked ahead, yourself and Mallory walking behind them, engaged in small talk.
You said your goodbyes and stayed behind to watch them leave and wave them off. The night had taken a toll on you, so you left for your room and retired for the night. You assumed Michael would spend the evening reminiscing with old friends and colleagues. So, you were surprised to see him already in bed.
You moved to go the dressing room to change, but you were stopped by Michael.
“You can undress here, in front of me.”
You looked at him as if he had grown two heads.
He just rolled his eyes, “I have seen it all before, don’t be shy now my love.”
Your cheeks heated up and you avoided eye contact with him as you shed your layers, finally leaving you in your under garments.
He curled his finger ins a ‘come hither’ motion, you slowly followed his command. He reached towards you and removed the final barriers, the chill causing goose bumps and your nipples to harden.
“Don’t just stand there, come on now,” he patted his lap. You climbed onto the bed, then onto his lap, where he wanted you.
You moaned lightly as you felt his stiff cock underneath you. His hand travelled up your sides, ticking the flesh. They finally reached you breasts, and you cried out at he began to tease your nipples. They had been sore and sensitive recently. He took a nipple into his mouth, noisily sucking on it. You threw your head back at the sensation. What a sight you were to him, moaning and mewling at the smallest of his touches. He gave the other nipple the same attention, before moving back with a wet ‘pop’.
“You’re so beautiful from up there.”
His hands moved to your hips again, lifting you and then slowly impaling you onto his cock, he couldn’t wait any longer.
You held onto his shoulders, your hips meeting every thrust. He pulled you into a searing kiss, capturing each other moans. You both came quickly. No matter what you thought about this man, or what he had done, you lust for him seemed to be paramount. His voice and his hands could make empires crumble, just like they did to you.
You collapsed onto his chest, exhausted from everything. No words were spoken as you drifted off.
////
Five days later, late in the afternoon, you had a visitor.
Madame Cordelia had come to visit.
Mallory had never made it home.
Next>>>
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falling into you - h.o.
chapter two - married in vegas
mob!haz au
warnings: swearing (i think that’s it)
word count: 2k
author note: i’m trying to think of a good posting schedule but I feel like posting once a week is too little and posting twice a week is too much so i’m in a bit of a pickle but I’ll figure it out!
chapter one ✕ masterlist ✕ chapter three

You wake up, closing your eyes shortly after opening them to avoid the blinding light. After giving yourself some time, you could finally open your eyes. Looking over at your desk clock you read the time
1:28 PM
Fuck. You reach over to grab your phone while being greeted with new messages from Harry
Weird Guy From The Bar (harry)
3:34 AM: hey, I’m just making sure you got home safe. I can’t have my poker date dying lol
6:05 AM: good morning. A car will be there to pick you up at 6. Don’t make him wait
6:06 AM: I just realized I don’t have your address so send that to me
You
1:30 PM: hey, yeah sorry. I just woke up lol. I will send you my location.
1:31 PM: and did you say you would send a car for me?
Weird Guy From The Bar (harry)
1:32 PM: I did. Also, the dress code is black tie. Something like you wore last night will work.
Well, that’s great. You have nothing like that in my closet which means you have to borrow clothes from Y/F/N. You get up from your bed walking towards the door when you see the heels you wore last night, instantly reminding you of the guy who caught you. You quickly shake him out of your head and head to your roommate’s room. You knock on her door lightly knowing that after last night her head is probably pounding.
“Go awayyyyy” she groaned, making you laugh lightly
“I need a dress, black tie.” you say while opening the door and walking in
“Since when do you want to wear a dress like that?” she lifted her head to look at you
“Some guy asked me to be his date for poker night and I agreed now please get me a dress, I need to be ready by 6.” you plopped down on her bed laying in the space next to her.
“Okay fine.” she got up making her way to her closet. She digs in for a few seconds before pulling out a black dress, similar to the one you wore last night and some silver heels.
“Here, now get out!” she hands you the articles and then plops back down on her bed, covering her head with the covers.
~
It was 5:48. You had showered, styled your hair, and successfully did a smokey eye. You were walking downstairs to wait in front of your building. 6 on the dot a Mercedes-Benz pulls up and the door opens.
“Hey darling, you look stunning.” Harry greeted you
“I don’t know why I agreed to do this.” you stated while getting into the car. You looked at Harry, he was wearing the exact outfit as last night, just missing the sunglasses.
“Would you care to explain to me why someone is driving us?”
“Bossman insists, I just follow orders.” he shrugs
“You play poker with your boss and he sends you cars? Where do you work!?” you asked being flabbergasted about the information you just received.
“The less you know the better.” You thought he was joking but his face was serious. You let out a nervous chuckle in hopes to clear this newfound tension in the air, but it seemed to make it worse. After being in the car for what felt like hours but more like 20 minutes the car started to slow down. You brought your gaze to the window to be greeted by a gate.
“It’s Pruitt. Arriving with Harry Holland and company. Buzz me in.” The chauffeur spoke into the call box. The gates started opening as he was buzzed in. Driving for a little while until you were shocked at the sight was in front of you.
A mansion. You counted the 33 windows that laid on the front of the house as the car pulled into the round motor court, housing a few other cars similar to the one you were in. The driver got out of the car and went around to Harry’s side, opening the door. Harry stepped out.
“Thanks, Jaxx. I’ll take it from here.” He patted the man on the shoulders and held his hand out for you to grab. You took it and stepped out of the car. You put your arm around Harry’s and walked up the stair. At the front door, were two men. Security you were guessing. You walked into the front door, hearing your heels click on the limestone floor. Your eyes went straight to the double staircase the met that the top and a crystal chandelier hanging over your head. You were torn from your thought when a voice spoke.
“You weren’t lying when you said you had a date.” A man who looked comparable to Harry spoke to us. Harry unraveled his arm from yours to take a step closer to the man.
“Don’t be such a wanker” Harry opened his arms and engulfed the man in a hug. Stepping away Harry rejoined you, next to your side
“Tom, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my brother, Tom.” Harry introduces you to the man. You hold out your hand.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” Tom winked and then kissed your hand. You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks. “Well we are about to get started, the boys are in the game room.”
They led you down some stair and a hallway until you reached an archway. Your nose was greeted with the smell of cigar smoke. Walking in a bit more the sound of your heels was silenced by the rug under you. You put your hand on the pool table in front of you and turned your head towards the bar on the left side of the room.
“And the boy made it with his date” You snapped your head. Another man, he had is arm around Harry’s shoulders. You were guessing another brother. He moved towards you putting his hand out.
“Sam.”
“Y/N.” you shook his hand.
“Well I’m glad you could join us y/n” he smiled. You smiled politely back at him
“Where’s Harrison?” Harry asked looking around the room
“Behind you, you div.” A guy walked in thumping the back of Harry’s head. He then looked at you and then it hit you.
The Mystery Guy. The mystery guy is standing in front of you. What?!? Your internal panic was interrupted
“Uh y/n, you alright?” Tom asked you
“What? Oh yeah uh, just uh... a little parched. Could I get some water? You nervously stuttered out while quickly trying to look anywhere but in his eyes.
“Could we get the girl some water?” Harrison spoke out loud, not directing the question to anyone in general. “I believe we didn’t get the chance to meet last night, I’m Harrison and you are?”
“Y/n and yeah sorry about that. My friend was waiting in a cab and I just couldn’t... keep her… waiting so...” You couldn’t form a normal sentence to save your life making you even more nervous. A man hands you your water and you thank him. You took a fairly long sip to get rid of the uncomfortable dryness in your mouth.
“So y/n, are you playing?”
“I don’t know how to play.”
“I’ll have to teach you one day.” Harrison smiles then walks away dragging Harry with him. “So what's the deal between you two?’
“Huh?”
“Are you two serious?”
“Mate, if I tell you this you have to swear on your life you don’t tell anyone else?”
“Code one of the Omertà oath.” Harrison holds up his hand to show his ring.
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Harry laughs and punches Harrison in the arm for his dramatics. ”We aren’t even dating, I met her last night at the nightclub opening. You have my blessing, now go make her an offer she can’t refuse.” Harry said in a godfather-Esque Italian accent.
“And you are calling me dramatic.” Harrison chuckles then walks back over to you “Now let get this pretty lady into a chair.” He grabs your hand and leads you to the table where two other men were sitting. He pulls out a chair for you, pushes it in and then sits next to you. After a few minutes you learned the names of the other men at the table, Tuwaine and Jacob. Harrison cheered again after he won another game.
“Boss man, you should put your house on the bet.” Tuwaine jokingly suggested.
Wait Harrison is the boss?
“You can get my house when you do what I do.” Harrison smiled at him checking his cards
“You live here?” You had forgotten where you were after being in this room for the whole night.
“Yep, all 126 room belong to me.” He smirked while putting some chips in the middle
“What could you possibly do that gives you enough money for a house like this?”
“I don’t think you want to know that sweetheart.” He winked at you and then directed his attention back to the game. After a few more minutes you wanted to stretch your legs. You pushed your chair out getting ready to get up
“Hey love, where are you going?” Harrison speaks putting in a few more chips in the middle.
“Just going to stretch my legs, I’ll be over there.” You pointed towards the bar. You got up and walked over to it. Leaning on the counter instead of sitting on the bar stool. You ordered a cherry coke. You were about to make your way to the couch in the back of the room when you got drenched with a cold liquid. A crash following soon after caught everyone’s attention. Harrison swiftly moved from his chair and across the room to you.
“What’s all this about?” His voice was aggressive, nothing like he had been tonight.
“I’m sorry sir, I tripped. I’ll get it cleaned up.” The bartender was practically shaking leaving you with the question of why. Why was he so scared?
“Like hell you will!” Harrison spoke just a bit too loudly making you flinch. That caught his attention. His eyes softened when he looked at you.
“Follow me.” His voice was gentle now. He held out his hand. You were hesitant to take and he noticed. He looked at your eyes for some sort of reassurance but all he saw was fear. He scared you and now you were frozen in place.
“Can someone call Amy and tell her to bring one of my shirts?” Harrison spoke again not to anyone in general but just out loud. A few minutes later an older woman walks in with a shirt.
“Thanks Amy, you are an angel.” He gives you a warm and kind smile. A complete 180 from the bartender. “Here love, let's get you out of these clothes.” He put his hand on the small of your back and guided you to the bathroom and handed you the shirt.
You took a second to breathe in your surroundings. It wasn’t big, only housing a toilet and a sink but somehow it was still stunning. You quickly stripped yourself of the alcoholic smelling dress and put your arms through the silk sleeves. While you were in the bathroom Harrison walked back into the game room.
“Alright, games over.” Harrison’s eyebrows knitted together in frustration. As much as the boys wanted to stay they know not to make him ask twice. They all filed out of the room.
“Do you want me to take her home?” Harry approached the blonde.
“No, I got it. Thanks though mate.” He patted his shoulder. You peaked your head out of the bathroom looking at the back of his head. You walked towards him.
“Where did everyone go?” You asked while approaching.
“Felt bad for taking all their money.” You laughed at his comment making him smile.
“I’m sorry for scaring you. I can get you a car if you want to go home.” He has sincerity in his eyes.
“Actually if you don’t mind, I’d like to stay here a bit longer.”
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
I was looking up different types of house while writing this chapter so the layout made sense in my head and I stumbled across this GIANT HOUSE and when I say giant I mean it. So I based some parts of Harrison’s mansion on it. If you guys want to see it you can click here! 
#haz osterfield wallpaper#tom holland and harrison osterfield#haz osterfield#harrison osterfield imagines#harrison osterfield#harrison osterfield wallpaper#harrison osterfield lockscreen#haz osterfield lockscreen#mob!haz#mob!harrison
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In a bar for Rolfe and Cassandra for the kissing prompts if you like!
Thank you for the ask! This is set in a modern au, purely because I had an image of Rolfe making drinks a la Tom Cruise in Cocktail.
________________________________________________________________
”Come here often?”
Cassandra didn’t even turn towards the voice at her right. “Not if I can help it.”
“Now that’s a shame,” Rolfe said, leaning against the bar. “You have lively music, tons of people to watch, good drinks, and believe it or not, the food is excellent here. If you’re hungry, I suggest the hot wings and nachos.”
“I take it that you come here often.”
“As often as I get a chance to. The staff love me.” Rolfe punctuated his statement by winking at the bartender, who was busy building drinks for a rowdy group of college kids of dubious legal drinking age.
The bartender rolled his eyes and kept mixing. “He tips well and the assholes being handsy with the ladies on staff get taken down by half when he steps in, so we like to keep him around.” Sliding the completed order onto a tray for a waitress, he started up a new order. “You really want to help, Rolfe, get your ass behind the counter and sling some drinks. The place is packed and there’s only one of me.”
“See? He loves me.”
“I can tell.” Cassandra didn’t really expect Rolfe to move from where he was sitting, so she was surprised when he did in fact slip behind the bar and start mixing drinks. “I didn’t know you actually worked here, I thought he was just teasing.”
“Well, work is a technical term. I told them I didn’t want a paycheck since I can’t be around for a consistent amount of time and I help when I can. They pay me in free nachos.” Turning, he pulled a mug of beer from the taps and handed it off to a customer. “So, what can I get you?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t come here to drink.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So you’re not here to have top quality bar food and you’re not here for a nightcap. I’d ask if you were in the right place if you didn’t want to have fun, but I don’t want to sound rude.”
Cassandra rolled her eyes. “I’m here because Varric said that he’d be around to discuss the case we’re working on. Since he’s been avoiding me at work, I thought bringing him to a venue he’d be more comfortable at would help.”
“Well, you did happen to throw a chair at him and call him a lying, traitorous snake. Not the friendliest of gestures if you wanted to get information from him.”
She huffed. “I was angry, all right? And technically he did lie about not knowing where Hawke was all this time. I dislike being lied to.”
“Fair point, and I’ll try not to lie to you in the future.”
“You’re a spy. You lie for a living.”
Rolfe poured another drink, this time a bright neon pink concoction in a martini glass. “Pentaghast! I’m hurt! I’ll have you know that I never lie. I may twist the truth until it’s hard to tell the difference or omit certain facts, but I never lie outright.”
She played with the napkin he set in front of her. “Sometimes that’s just as bad, if not worse, than lying in the first place.”
Rolfe made change and handed off another beer to a customer that had stepped up to the bar next to her. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I’ve never lied or fudged the truth with you.”
Oddly enough, it did make her feel better. “So that means that if I ask you about your past, you’ll tell me the straight truth?”
He leaned against the bar and gave her a toothy smile, the dimple at his cheek showing up. “I knew all I had to do was bide my time and you’d want to learn more about me.” He pointed at a patron who shouted an order at him. “Tell you what,” he started, pulling a bottle of rum from the shelf behind him and making a flourish with the way he poured it out into a shaker. “I buy you a drink and tell you a tidbit from my sordid past. You get a free drink and a little insight into who I am.”
“And what do you get out of it?”
He lined up several shot glasses for another order. “The pleasure of your company while you wait for Varric to show up.”
Cassandra bit her lip before giving in. “Nothing alcoholic. I’m here for information, I need to keep my wits about me.”
“You got it.” After sending off his round of shots, he pulled out a glass and filled a shaker with ice. She didn’t see what he poured in, but the scent of lemons hit her nose.
“What is it?” she asked, watching as he picked up a bottle of simple syrup and twirled it around in a way she had to admit was impressive before pouring a generous amount into the shaker.
“I call it the Seeker’s Punch.”
“How original.” She leaned on her elbows and tried to ignore the blush she could feel color her cheeks. “What’s in it?”
“One part iced tea, one part lemonade. Add in a shot of lavender syrup and serve over ice.” He shook the shaker several times and poured the finished drink into a glass. “Smooth yet tart, with just the right amount of sweetness.”
She took a sip. “And the lavender?”
“It reminded me of the perfume Leliana got you with the other day. Every time I caught a whiff of it in the office, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He smiled at her again. “Maybe I should add a touch of grenadine in at the end, that way it could match the cute way you blush.”
Cassandra opened her mouth, then closed it again. “I am not cute.”
“No, you’re not. You’re exquisite.”
She took another sip, hoping that the coolness from the drink would tame the heat that flared in her face. “I do believe you still owe me a fact,” she said, trying to change the topic.
“That I do. Okay, Pentaghast, let me think about it while I take a few orders.”
Casandra sat back on the barstool and sipped at her drink. Rolfe hadn’t added enough of the lavender syrup to make the drink cloying and undrinkable, but just enough that there was a subtle flavor that complimented the lemonade and tea. She checked her phone to see if she had missed any messages, namely to see if Varric had texted her to tell her that he was there. He probably isn’t showing, she thought morosely, idly swirling the straw around her glass to chase the cubes of ice around. She wouldn’t blame him, she had blown up at him the last time they spoke in a fashion she was embarrassed of now that she wasn’t blinded by anger and betrayal.
The sound of Rolfe laughing at something a patron said shook her out of her thoughts. It was incredibly easy to watch him at ease with himself, the sleeves of his shirt pushed up to his elbows as he stuffed change into a tip jar she knew he wouldn’t collect later. She gave a slight smile as she stared at his profile, the overhead lights hitting his hair just so, making red highlights stand out from the rest of the dark brown strands.
“I’d accuse you of staring, but I don’t want you to stop,” he commented, coming back to her.
“I…” she cleared her throat. “It’s hard not to, you seem in your element.”
“I am.” He wiped at the bar with a towel he slung over his shoulder. “It’s easy to be myself with people who don’t have unattainable expectations from me or preconceived notions to my character.”
Rolfe interrupted her before she could defend herself from the teasing accusation. “But I believe I owe you a fact about myself.”
“I’m at the edge of my seat.”
He smirked. “Say that with more conviction and I may believe you next time.” He cleared his throat. “I unwillingly began my twenty year service to the Chantry when I was seventeen. My parents threw me into the Ostwick chantry to hide a scandal that had I not been swept under the rug like the dirty secret I was, would have ruined my father’s business opportunities. As it was, it managed to ruin my sister’s then-engagement and forced her to marry someone she didn’t want to in order to secure yet another business tie for our father.”
Cassandra leaned closer, her eyes wide. She hadn’t known that about him. “What sort of scandal would have done that?”
Rolfe made a tisking noise. “I owed you one secret truth, which I told. Any more would require another drink.”
She huffed. “I could have asked Leliana for that.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Well that answers one question I had. Thanks.”
“For what?”
“You have the left hand of the Divine as a friend. She hoards secrets like a dragon hoards gold and yet she’s likely to share a juicy bit of gossip. I have very little doubt that she knows pretty much everything about me and yet you’ve never asked her to share. I don’t know if I’m disappointed that you didn’t want to know more about me or if I’m glad that I still carry an air of mystique.”
Cassandra felt her blush come back with a vengeance. “I’d rather get my information from the source when I can instead of relying on second hand knowledge,” she said defensively.
Rolfe gave her another soft smile that made her heart do strange flips in her chest. “I’d be willing to share more later, if you’re interested.”
She sat up straighter. “We do have a job to complete. Discovering who this Corypheus is ranks a little higher than getting to know you.”
The second she said it, she regretted it. Rolfe’s smile stayed in place, but something in his eyes shuttered closed. For someone not looking closely, his friendly expression didn’t change a bit, but Cassandra had a sinking feeling that his mood and changed, the jovial expression a well-used mask to hide whatever he was thinking. “You’re right,” he said, reaching down and grabbing a snifter. He turned to get an expensive looking bottle of brandy and poured a generous serving. “Speaking of work, Varric showed up five minutes ago. He’s at a table in the back; take this as a peace offering to get back into his good graces.”
“What?” She slid off her seat and turned to look around. Sure enough, Varric was seated at a table at the very back of the bar. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
“Because then you would have gone straight over there and he would have teased you about being eager to get your information, which then would have pushed one of your buttons and you two would have gotten into an argument and you probably would have stormed off without learning anything new. This way, he’ll probably grumble about being kept waiting, but will stay as long as it takes him to finish his drink, especially since I know for a fact that he can’t turn away a free and very expensive brandy. The fact that he thinks you sprung for the good stuff will impress him enough to keep whatever barbs he has from being too terribly sharp. He’ll still try to get a rise out of you, but he won’t go out of his way to try to piss you off.”
She blinked. It was easy to forget that Rolfe was trained to read people as well as he was. “Thank you,” she said, reaching for her wallet. “How much do I…”
He shook his head. “On the house. Consider it my contribution to the intel gathering.”
Cassandra picked up the snifter in one hand and the rest of her drink in the other. She paused, turning to watch Rolfe already building another round of drinks. He didn’t know that she was watching, which she bet was the only reason why she got to see his shoulders slump as he gave the smallest of sighs as he shook his head while he worked.
“Hey, Rolfe?”
The mask was back in place as if it had never been taken off. “Yeah?”
“Do you know where that place that Josephine got those sticky buns the other day from?”
“I do.”
She licked her lips. “If you’re not busy tomorrow morning, maybe we can stop in and have breakfast there?”
He paused. “You’re just trying to see if I’ll divulge any other juicy secrets,” he teased.
She shook her head, slightly disappointed that the smile he gave her didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was good at hiding how he felt, but she’d seen enough of his smiles to know better. “Maybe I want to tell you some of my own secrets instead,” she countered.
He tilted his head, ignoring the person who yelled from down the bar for their drink. “I never say no to sweets, especially when they come with good company,” he replied, winking as he blew her a kiss. “Can I consider it a date?”
She smiled. “Depends. Do you want it to be one?” There was something satisfying to see Rolfe, who usually was never at a loss for words, be stricken speechless. “See you tomorrow morning at seven?”
“I...uh, yeah. Yeah, seven works good for me, sure. See you then, Pentaghast.”
Cassandra felt the tightness that had constricted her chest loosen at the sight of the lopsided smile that made his blue eyes twinkle. “I’m looking forward to it, Trevelyan.” She turned back towards Varric, who had spotted her and was watching the scene before him with what could only be described as sheer glee. She sighed and grumbled a quick prayer under her breath for patience as she walked towards his table.
“You know, I had some smartassed comment to give you, but I think I’ll save it for later,” Varric drawled. “I couldn’t hear whatever the two of you were talking about, but I bet I could make something up just from body language alone.”
She sat his drink in front of him and watched him sniff at it and make appreciative noises. “I already know I can’t stop you,” she told him, sipping at her own drink as she sat down across from him. “I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have reacted as angrily with you as I did, I’m sorry.”
Varric took a sip of his drink. “Apology accepted.” He paused. “I should have told you about Hawke earlier. I’m not sorry, but I should have told you.”
“As much as I hate to say it, I understand. You were protecting a friend. Had I the talent for subterfuge, I would have done the same.”
Varric let out a low whistle. “I really should be thanking Charmer. Who knew that he’d be the one to get us to play nice. If the world wasn’t already on the verge of ending with all these damn rifts spilling demons everywhere, I’d swear that the end was nigh.”
“What makes you think that Rolfe is the reason we’re sitting here?”
“Because, Seeker,” Varric took another sip. “He was the one who talked me into asking you here in the first place and he’s the one who knows my preferred poison. And here I was thinking that he’d be serving me up some watered down well drink instead of the good Antivan name brand stuff.”
“Well,” Casandra fidgeted with her straw. “I guess we should make the most of this truce and get down to business. Tell me what you know and I’ll tell you what I know. Maybe between the both of us we can make some headway on how to help save the world.”
Varric held up his glass as a salute. “I’ll drink to that.” He steepled his hands together and settled into his seat. “Like most of the things with Gavin Hawke, this story starts out with yet another group of people trying to kill him.”
Cassandra listened to Varric with half an ear, mostly because she could tell that he was adding embellishments in to draw out the part where he and Hawke actually met up with Corypheus and partly because even over the background noise of the bar, she could still hear Rolfe shout out a greeting to someone she assumed was a regular.
She couldn’t deny that he had a way of making her feel better just by hearing him laugh. Deciding to tuck that little bit of information away for future introspection, she squared her shoulders and tried her best to pay attention to the story being told in front of her.
#otp: bad flirting and disgusted noises#my writing#modern au#cassandra pentaghast#rolfe trevelyan#alittlestarling
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hi can i ask for a prompt with yoongi? B12 and D13 please💌
⚤ pairing — reader + Min Yoongi
✎ word count — 2,591
✦ genre — smut, pwp
✗ warnings — graphic description of sex, masturbation, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), squirting
prompt(s) — B12: Heavy eye contact + D13: Squirting
[A/N] hhhngn i hope this came out ok! writing it was a little touch and go as i’ve been anxious the last couple of days again but ive been reading some amazing things and trying to keep myself inspired and happy, and im pretty satisfied with this. also!! happy belated birthday to @gotmetalkinginmysleep 💖💖💖
You knew exactly what to do to get him fired up. Even though Yoongi had spent the evening watching you from afar and sulking, you were pleased with yourself. He deserved it.
He’d promised you a romantic candle lit dinner the night before after countless nights of eating alone while he worked late, but when you showed up at his apartment, he was passed out asleep on the couch. Impossible to wake up once he was that deeply asleep, you hadn’t even bothered to try and had gone to sleep in his bed by yourself after a lonely dinner that was definitely lacking in the romance that you had been so looking forward to.
What was worse is he hadn’t even bothered to apologize. He slid under the covers with you just before dawn, groaning softly into the crook of your neck and prodding at the middle of your back with an erection, and though you had been wide awake, you pretended you were still asleep until he dozed back off, curled up behind you.
The following day you were, perhaps childishly so, hellbent on pissing him off. Yoongi, as complex as he could be at times when he tried to hide his feelings and act much tougher than he truly was, could be played like a fiddle under the right circumstances. Lord knows that you knew all the right buttons to press after a lengthy relationship. You knew all the ins and outs of this man by now. His hopes, his fears, his insecurities, his strengths, but most importantly, you knew what made him tick.
Using Jimin for your agenda was easy - the younger man was a born flirt and it oozed out of every pore regardless of who he spoke to. So when you stuck to his side that evening, giggling and playful, he was all too easy to use to get the right kind of attention from your negligent boyfriend.
Yoongi bought it so fast, too. Hook, line, and sinker. The moment you touched Jimin’s arm for a little bit too long, you could practically feel his eyes on you. But you didn’t let him know that you knew he was watching, not yet. Not until he came to you, voice low while you sat on the counter top with Jimin at your side, drunk and a little too friendly.
“Let’s go to bed.” Yoongi practically growled the words at you, his mouth at your ear and his hand squeezing just a little too tight around your wrist.
You agreed, lips curving into a knowing smile as you hopped down off the counter and gave Jimin a lingering hug goodnight before Yoongi all but drug you away from him.
You knew you had him exactly where you wanted him long before he kicked shut his bedroom door and barked out a command for you to strip and lay down on his bed. If you couldn’t have the romantic night he had promised you, at least you could have him like this. Possessive, needy, wild.
His eyes were flashing, mouth drown down in a tight lipped frown that made your heart flutter. He’s cute when he’s pissy, you think to yourself. You smile up at him, innocently, adoringly, and he whips off his belt and chucks it to the floor with a snap.
“What are you smiling about?” He asks you.
“How cute you are.” You reply.
“Oh? Not about how cute Jiminie is?”
At this, you let yourself giggle. He was truly so, so easy. Excitement rippling in your veins, you lay back on the bed, fully naked, like he told you to.
Yoongi hasn’t broken eye contact with you yet, not until the shirt he lifts over his head interrupts it as he asks, “What are you laughing about?”
“I just love you.” You tell him. And you mean it. As much as the previous night had disappointed you, finding him curled up asleep when he had promised you something, you knew in the back of your mind that you could have come to him in tears the next day and he would have rectified his wrong doing. But it was much more fun for both of you, this way.
He huffs a little, but doesn’t reply to your sentiment, instead telling you in a clipped tone, “Spread yourself for me.”
You do, parting your thighs and pressing your fingers to your sex to splay yourself open for him. He likes you best like this when he’s in a sulky mood, open and vulnerable and all for him. And god, do you like it, too, when he takes control and most of all, when he takes you. You’re entirely his, anyway, but it doesn’t mean that you don’t want him to claim you over and over and over again, for the rest of your lives.
Yoongi is quiet when he starts. He jerks himself off while sitting on his knees, his balls nestled between your spread lower lips, teasing you with the jerking motion of his hand on his cock, his eyes locked on yours and daring you to ask him for more. But you don’t. You know he’ll give it to you in due time, especially if you’re patient. He masturbates in such a quick, rough motion that you wonder briefly how it doesn’t hurt but then again, you know that he likes it when it does. His fingers are tight around his shaft, the head of his dick red from being squeezed so tight repeatedly. Eventually the slick sounds of precum coating his hand is coupled with the ragged breaths from him, lording above you.
You writhe, needing friction, but just before it gets too unbearable, just before he can spill his cum across your belly and waste it, he stops and pulls back away from you. A glance down where your hands still spread yourself open show him that watching him jerk himself off has made you wet, and he gives you a haughty little smirk before he lays down flat between your open thighs.
You desperately want his mouth on you, but he busies himself with exploring you with his fingers first, like always. You steel yourself in preparation, eyes shutting tight. You know if you ask for it, he’ll just make you wait even longer. He’s meticulous, practiced, far too good at pressing all of your buttons same as you can his. It’s exciting and makes you both vulnerable, but you like it that way.
His fingers avoid your clit, stroking over your labia and pressing gingerly into your entrance, then he pulls back, pressing the slick digit into his mouth and just observing you while he sucks it clean, watching as you get wetter with anticipation.
“Did Park Jimin do this to you?” He asks you quietly, and you know that he knows better. He’s confident in your relationship, he knows you’re loyal and he knows you belong to him, mind, body, and soul. But you humor him anyway.
“No, Yoongi. You did.”
His eyes lift from your sex and meet your own, lips curving briefly into a smile, but he wipes it away from his face as quickly as it appeared, ducking his head down to finally let you have his mouth. His eyes don’t leave yours when he tastes you, tongue flat and stroking from your clenching hole up to your clit. He leaves it there, flexing the wet muscle on your most sensitive spot, eyes on yours and silently daring you to look away. You wouldn’t. He’s hypnotizing and beautiful there, licking expertly between your thighs.
Yoongi hums, a low tone that sends shocks of pleasure straight to your core, legs jerking briefly around his head. His eyes narrow briefly, a silent warning for you to hold still and let him do what he wants to do, then his hands pin your thighs open wide and he nuzzles his mouth into you further, pushing your hands out of the way. He licks deeply and sucks, latching onto your clit with an obscene sound that makes you moan and gasp all at once.
You hold still the best you can, hands threading through his hair, breathing steady to keep yourself in check but he’s fully consuming you and it’s hard to be as still as you know he wants you to be. You want to rut your hips up against his mouth, to tug and pull on his hair to get him in the spot you want him in so you can get yourself off as quick as possible, but Yoongi keeps his eyes trained on you and you don’t dare.
If he wasn’t in this specific mood, to possess you and own you, you wouldn’t care at all to take what you want from him but like this? You take what he gives you and nothing more.
After all, you wanted him like this. You made him like this, mad with his need to consume you entirely and claim you as his. He nuzzles his nose against your clit, tongue fucking shallowly at your entrance and you murmur his name, thighs twitching with the effort to stay wide open for him.
“Yes, baby?” He pulls a breath away and his eyes are tender, even as he licks the remains of your wetness from his lips, “Tell me how I can please you.”
Not expecting him to want to cater to you like this, you scramble for a moment, mind reeling with possibilities but the truth hits you like a truck when his fingers dig into the meat of your inner thigh, and you tell him, “I want your fingers.”
“Where?” He encourages you, eyes flickering briefly down as he presses a kiss to your swollen clit, then he looks back up at you patiently. It’s a complete switch that’s been flicked, your submissive side out in full force, overwhelmed by him, by the need he’s been building in you.
“I-in my pussy.” You whimper, “Fuck me with your fingers…a-and, fuck!… keep licking me. Please.”
Yoongi was already granting your every wish before you could finish asking for it, his long digits pressing inside of you and curling up, making you curse. When his tongue goes back to work, he shuts his eyes briefly and savors the taste of you, wet and warm against his lips. He pumps his fingers into you, being sure to press shallowly into you with his fingers curved right up against the texture of your inner wall where he knows your g spot is.
His tongue feels like heaven, slipping between your folds expertly and flattening against the sensitive bundle of your clit, alternating between flicks from the point of his tongue at the perfect speed to lavishing you there with his lips wrapping around and sucking sinfully. You can’t stop your thighs twitching and your hips lifting, craving more and more though he happily gives it to you each time.
He looks up at your face only to see you watching his mouth carefully, entranced by the sight of his tongue. You expected him to tease you endlessly, to deny to orgasm until his cock was in you, but you lock eyes with him and whisper in warning, “I-I’m coming..”
He nods against you, giving you permission before pressing his fingers into your cunt harder and faster, his tongue flat and rubbing fully against your swollen clit while you rock your hips up against face. Yoongi groans, pressing a third finger inside of you, stretching you with the briefest twinge of pain before your walls accommodate to the addition. He uses the strength in his whole arm, fucking up against your g spot rough and harsh while his tongue keeps licking, sweet and slow. You feel yourself about to bust entirely, all while staring into his eyes and you shut your lids peacefully, letting go.
Yoongi fucks you three fingers deep, and the obscene squelching that emits from your sex sends a blush from your cheeks straight down your chest. You don’t expect the tidal wave that follows, but the moment you feel it, you open your eyes to look down at him in utter shock.
It feels almost wrong for half a second. Are you pissing yourself?? But the look of sheer desire that crosses Yoongi’s face, his brows lifted in surprise wipes away any negative feelings and you don’t even try to hold back. You’ve never done this before, never gushed so fully, never cum with this much intensity.
Writhing under him, legs desperately trying to shut around his arm as he pulls back to watch, you buck and groan and completely soak the sheets, soak your boyfriend’s arm, his tongue licking lasciviously across his lips to capture the taste of your cum.
“Oh my god,” You chant, “Oh god, Yoongi, Yoongi!”
“It’s ok, baby.” He murmurs, and he places one hand flat on your tummy and he keeps fucking you with his hand, deeper this time, pressing tight at your lower stomach like he’s trying to milk more of it out of you, his mouth hungry and his tone low as he groans desperately against your throbbing, oversensitive clit. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” He mewls against you, tongue and lips as desperate as his fingers to work another orgasm from you, just as wet as the first. “One more,” He begs, “Give it to me… please.”
You cum again just seconds after the first time, and the gush is significantly less but with his insistent fingers fucking you and his tongue on your clit, he gets what he was after. He withdraws in a hurry, palm rubbing sloppy and hurried at your clit as his mouth latches onto your core and he sucks and swallows every drop he can down, groaning and massaging your left thigh appreciatively.
He’s made you cum twice in a row countless times in the past, fucking you senseless after making you cum once on his fingers only to immediately hammer you into another orgasm but this time was different. With the sheets below you soaked and the evidence of your orgasm dripping from his chin, Yoongi pushes himself up from your pussy, gripping his cock and sliding it home inside of you. You whine and wrap yourself around him, completely fucked out of your mind and body trembling with the exertion.
It takes everything in you to keep your weary legs open so he can jackhammer his hips into yours, his mouth wet as he kisses across your neck and your lips. You taste yourself on his tongue and moan into his mouth, weak and used, but you give yourself over to the pleasure of feeling him rutting away inside of you, desperate to find his release. When he cums, he grunts into your neck and buries himself deeply inside of you, panting and shaking all over.
“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses, “That was so hot, baby.” He pulls back away from you and looks down at you in awe for a moment before he pulls out of you. Your legs fall weary, flat to the mattress and Yoongi stands over you, chest heaving, and looks at the mess the two of you had just made. You’re half dead, unable to lift a muscle, breath coming out ragged and head lolling uselessly to the side, completely and utterly fucked out of your mind, your insides still tingling from the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“You’ve never looked more sexy,” He declares, “Do you know that?”
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Sensory prompt for Harper: 1
1. Watching a meteor shower
Thanks for the prompt @darth-salem-emperor-of-earth! I had so many ideas about where to go with this – I hope you enjoy what I went with :D (Featuring @gaiden1974’s OC Sean Rodriguez).
Harper grimaced as her foot sunk deep into a muddy puddle – an unavoidable misfortune as a result of her waterlogged surroundings. The saturated ground was the only evidence of the intense downpours that had recently battered the area; the night sky was cloudless, allowing an incredible view of Lusia’s twin moons and star freckled sky. Were it a normal night Harper would have stopped to admire the view – instead, she found herself soaked, frustrated and eager to return to the Cardwell.
Unfortunately, her companions weren’t faring much better. She heard Nala and Hyourn bickering close behind her as she yanked her foot free and began to trudge up a verdant hill, facing squelching resistance from the ground with each step.
“If you hate the outdoors so much why did you volunteer for this delivery?” Nala’s biting tone made it clear that her nerves were frayed, but Hyourn ploughed on obliviously with his grumbling.
“I’m just saying, it’s the twenty third century. What kind of crazy do you have to be to willingly choose to live in the arse end of nowhere?” He adopted a posh, high-pitched voice – a poor imitation of their asari client. “I simply don’t know what to do with all this money! I suppose I’ll build a fourth home in the jungle. What could possibly go wrong? To make things entertaining, I’ll order a giant package of exotic groceries to be delivered by foot in the middle of the night in monsoon season. Mwa-ha-ha!”
“So she’s eccentric, and likes her privacy. At least she paid well.”
Hyourn snorted, although his reply was cut off as his foot slipped on a muddy patch of ground. He swung his arms wildly to regain balance and avoid falling face-first into the mud. Having righted himself, he briefly glared at the ground before resuming the uphill trek. “Ugh, nature!”
“By the goddess, if you don’t shut up I’m going to throw you back down this hill.”
Hyourn, dramatic as ever, gasped and clutched at his heart. “You wouldn’t! After all that we’ve been through?”
Nala rolled her eyes and was about to snap back, but Harper chose to intervene before the argument escalated. She abruptly stopped and turned to face them, pinching the bridge of her nose in a vain attempt to ease a building headache, and interrupted them in a mockingly sing-song tone of voice, “Okay kids! Quiet time now.”
Hyourn seemed to be on the verge of saying something further but thought better of it and fell quiet. Nala breathed a sigh of relief and shot the captain an apologetic look. Harper waved a hand dismissively and squinted into the dark behind them, barely able to make out the two figures lagging behind. She shook her head and called, “Hey lovebirds! Keep up, would you?”
Alia and Sean jumped apart and scrambled to catch up. Alia at least had the decency to look sheepish, but Sean had that ever-present half-grin on his face. “Sorry about that, Cap.”
Harper narrowed her eyes at his use of the unwanted title. “Remind me why I keep you around?”
His grin widened and he suggested, “The pleasure of my company?” Simultaneously, Hyourn chimed in with, “His charm and good looks, obviously.” The pair high-fived and Harper threw her hands into the air, turning and continuing uphill.
They crested the hill a few minutes later and slowed to a stop to catch their breath. Harper drank in the cool night air and tilted her face up to look at the stars, a sight she had always found comforting. As she watched, a bright light streaked across the inky sky. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at the memory it elicited – “Make a wish, Cass!” Nine-year-old Max was pointing excitedly at a shooting star in the sky and bumped her shoulder against Harper’s. She laughed – a carefree, contagious laugh – and Harper soon found herself laughing with her.
A second light shot across the sky soon after the first. Nearby, Alia spoke softly, “Of course! Lusia is well-known in asari space for its meteor showers. I’ve never seen one myself.”
“That and the krogan rebellions. Pretty lights and the beginning of a brutal war – wonderful claims to fame, hmm?”
Nala shushed Hyourn and the group fell into a companionable silence, each with their eyes turned up to the sky to watch the show.
A few minutes passed, and Harper glanced down to check on everyone. Alia and Sean watched the shower intently, their hands clasped together between them, fingers entwined. Nala and Hyourn stood side-by-side, and Nala’s head was resting on Hyourn’s shoulder. “Crazy lady did us a favour after all, huh?” Nala hummed in agreement with Hyourn, and they fell quiet again.
Harper resumed watching the sky, a content smile on her face. She was exhausted, soaked and covered in mud, but she had never seen anything so beautiful, and she was surrounded by people she loved – her family. Did life get any better?
She had only a few more seconds of peace before Hyourn let out an unholy screech and scrambled backwards. Nala grabbed a flailing arm to steady him and prevent him tumbling down the hill. Hyourn’s eyes darted about, searching the dark, and his voice was oddly shrill when he finally spoke. “Something crawled across my foot! There are space spiders here.”
Nala released his arm and rolled her eyes. “Well, there goes the moment. You ruined it.”
“I’m serious. It was huge!”
“I believe you, you big baby. It was just a naera bug – they’re completely harmless. Kind of cute, actually.”
Hyourn shot her a horrified look and shivered, before returning to nervously searching the ground.
Harper let out a relieved laugh, shook her head, and began to lead the way down the other side of the hill. “Come on Fruit Loop, time to go home.” Hyourn jogged after her, eager to get away, while Nala followed at a more sedate pace. Harper called over her shoulder, “Alia, Rookie, try to keep up.” Alia, walking beside Sean at the back of the group, blushed and picked up her pace to catch up. Sean smirked and squeezed her hand as they walked.
Above them, bright meteors still shot across the blue-black sky, trailing between thousands of glittering stars.
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Four years
AU: Human
Ship: LAMP
Prompt:×
Requested by:×
Tw: Homophobia
F/A/S: Flangst
POV: 3rd
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You ready for tomorrow guys? :3"
Virgil smiled as he glanced at the message in the group chat, seeing the other two reply much quicker than him. "Well, yes, we've rehearsed this so of course we are ready." "Logan, he means emotionally ready, we are graduating after all, and I believe I am, ready to escape this hell hole anyway." Virgil chuckled a bit. "Same, Ro." he sent. He didn't engage to much in the conversation as he glanced over to the three pictures he had taped on the wall.
He pulled the first one off the wall, it taken at the end of their freshman year. Roman held the camera, having his other arm around Virgil pulling him closer to him in an attempt to fit everyone in the frame, logan stood beside Virgil, a genuine smile on his face as Patton had his arms around his neck, doing the same as Roman was trying to do, Roman also, had a black eye.
That was the year that they all met and became friends, well, Virgil and Logan already knew each other from middle, but were both anti-social in their own respects, so they hardly even spoke to each other in person.
Virgil had managed to sort of just blend into the background and not make any enemies or friends, he had Logan and that's all he really needed... That changed when a new kid got moved into his speech class. "Pat-ton Marsh..?" Mrs. Bradshaw said, horribly butchering the new kids name. "U-um... It's, Patton, and I am present miss!" The kid who sat at the front said, earning a few mumbles, snickers and even minor insults from those who Virgil always avoided. "Oh, well then, since this is speech and you've already missed a bit, why don't you go up to the front and tell us a bit about yourself." The teacher stated in a way that was a demand not a request.
Patton laughed, seeming chipper and not dreading this, which confused Virgil ever so slightly, before he remembered, not everyone has severe social anxiety, he's just a freak.
He did actually manage to shut up his self-deprecation just long enough to look up at Patton who was now stood in the front of the class, he was chubby, it was more evident in his freckle covered cheeks than his stomach but it was still there, the circular brown glasses that framed around his bright blue eyes showed off his chubby cheeks even more so. "Um, well... Hey there! I'm Patton! And, um, I just moved to this school, cause of my parents work! And I hope to befriend at least some of you!" He said, Virgil immediately felt terrible for him as almost the entire class began laughing at him.
Patton's smile dropped, and returned into one much more forced. His bright cheery eyes now showed hurt and pain. He quickly just grabbed his backpack and moved to the back. "I-Is um..." He didn't finish his sentence as he motioned to the seat beside Virgil. Virgil just shook his head. "N-No... you can sit there, it's okay.." He said quietly. "Thank you." Patton mumbled back politely as he took his new seat, wanting nothing more to just go back in time and say something different or just disappear. He laid his head down on the desk. Virgil had been in this kid's place before, so, despite his natural instinct he started talking to him.
Patton was actually genuinely kind, but that wasn't appreciated in this type of hell. Virgil tried his best to keep up with his conversation and slightly cursed himself for his constant stuttering and little minor slip-ups in his replies. Patton, despite what Virgil thought, actually really enjoyed Virgil's company.
Soon enough the bell rang. "Oh! Hey, Virgil.. What lunch do you have?" Patton asked as he glanced down at his schedule. "Um... C-C..." Virgil mumbled out. Patton beamed "Same!! Well, would you mind if I sat with you?" He asked. Virgil tensed up slightly, unsure if Logan would mind it or not, seeing as their both the anti-social ones no one seems to talk to. "N-No... I-I don't mind..." He said quietly, Logan can get mad at him later. Patton smiled. "Great! See you then!" He said with a contagious chipperness, making even Virgil crack a smile.
Virgil went basically silent for his next classes until lunch, as always. "Hey, Lo." Virgil greeted as he took his normal seat across from Logan in the lunchroom, Logan was of course, reading. Logan offered a small wave, not even glancing at virgil since he obviously did not want to be interrupted mid-paragraph. "Aren't you talkative today..." Virgil sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. "Oh, by the way, um... someone might be joining us." He said. That caught Logan's attention, making him peer over the top of his book at Virgil. "What?" He asked. "A new guy in my speech class got laughed at for introducing himself the way he did... So, I... um.. Kinda took pity on him, but he's actually pretty nice.." He explained with a shrug.
Logan sighed, "Alright." He said "I do hope he'll understand that neither of us are particularly good at socializing." Virgil nodded "Yeah.. well, he knows I am at least." Before Logan could reply- "Virgil!" The bubbly voice sounded, startling both of them as Patton walked over. "O-oh hey, Patton." Virgil said with a bit of a smile. Logan's eyes widened a small blush crawling across his cheeks, but he cleared his throat and greeted him. Patton sat beside Virgil as he glanced at Logan, realization washing over him as he grinned. "Hey! We have the same math class!" He said. Logain raised an eyebrow at him, "We... Do?" He asked. Patton nodded "Mhmm! Miss Lee? Fourth period?" He said. "Oh, well then I suppose we do." He said as he pushed his thick black framed glasses up. "I am, Logan. Logan Sanders." Patton smiled, "Well, aren't you formal?" He giggled. "I'm Patton, Patton Marsh." "Pleasure to meet you." "Pleasure's mine"
"That's gay." Virgil mumbled jokingly before snickering. Patton's entire demeanor shifted, he glanced at Virgil, having a look in his eye that Virgil couldn't quite pinpoint, but he knew it wasn't good. "Is that... a bad thing?" He asked, in an almost scary tone. Virgil quickly shook his head, "N-No... I was just... j-joking.." He mumbled. "Good!" He giggled immediately reverting back to his overly happy nature. "Anyway.." Patton continued to talk while Logan and Virgil traded a quick 'Did that just happen?' glance. After a minute of Logan and Virgil's confused silence the three began a conversation, nothing too deep, but just shared interests and old stories. Logan had placed his bookmark in his book and moved it to the side, much more intrigued with the conversation rather than the book he had already finished two times previously.
Unfortunately, the time passed too quickly, and they all had to part ways. Since they knew they most likely wouldn't see each other the rest of the day, Patton gave the two his number. Over the course of the next few months, the three became incredibly good friends. Of course they always had their bad days, which mainly went like Virgil not showing up to lunch and just staying in the bathroom either having a panic attack or recovering from one, Logan showing up but just glaring whenever one of the others tried to talk to him, which Virgil had to explain to Patton that was how he dealt with his bad days, and Patton showing up and just having his head down, Virgil would offer to talk to him about it, and sometimes Patton would explain it, but other times he just said that he needed a minute, which the other two understood.
Their small group grew towards the middle of the year. A few days before Christmas break, Logan had stayed later than normal for a class, as he left the school building to wait outside he heard some people laughing and talking to his right, where the auditorium and band hall were.
They were voices he recognized, bad ones. He stopped walking and quickly hid behind one of the brick pillars that held up the sheet of metal the school used as a sort of canopy above the sidewalk around the school as the voices grew louder.
The people that the voices belonged too, were the three notorious bullies, they were Juniors, who felt the need to use their upperclassmen status as an excuse to intimidate, beat up and harass Freshmen and Sophomores. "Fucking faggot." One of them laughed, "You showed him!" "Fucking freshman bitch." The insults continued as they walked away. Logan sighed, deciding to go check down in the direction of the exit next to the auditorium. The nerds and the theater kids were always their favorites to pick on... When he got there, he saw a boy in a white hoodie and red skinny jeans, sitting with his back to the wall, his knees to his chest and his head resting on them. "Are, you alright?" Logan asked against his better judgment.
The boy looked up, his cheek had a slight discoloration, showing that a bruise was beginning to from and a bloody nose. He sniffled "Not really..." He stated. "They really need to be reprimanded for all the harm they've caused, expelled or at least suspended." Logan said sighing.
"I'm assuming you've had a run-in with them as well?" The other asked. Logan nodded "Several." There was a small pause between them as the boy wiped his eyes, before Logan spoke again, awkwardly introducing himself. "I'm Logan." The other smiled "Roman, Roman Prince." He said as he tried to stand, only to fumble a bit almost falling as Logan caught him, helping him to his feet. "They're such assholes..." Roman muttered to himself. "Agreed." Logan said moving away from him.
The two began talking, despite not having that much in common they somehow continued to find things to talk about. Until eventually Logan's father came to pick him up, he offered to give Roman a ride but Roman politely declined. The next day, at lunch as Logan what happened to the other two, Roman just happened to walk past them, and recognized him. "Oh, hello Logan." He said as he tapped him on the shoulder and continued walking. "Hello." Logan responded back. "Was that-" "Roman? Yes." "He's cute." "Ooooo Does Virgil Addams have a crush~" Patton jokingly taunted. "No. I can just.. Appreciate guys who.. Look good.." Virgil flushed hiding his face with the sleeve of his hoodie.
Patton giggled. "Shut up! Logan was the same way when you showed up!!" Virgil said without thinking, making Logan almost choke on the sandwich he was eating. "Wait what?" Patton asked, cluelessly. Logan cleared his throat sending a bit of a glare Virgil's way. Virgil just shook his head "Nothin' Pat." he said.
Patton looked confused but shrugged it off "Mkay." He said. Roman wasn't integrated into the group as quickly as Patton was, as he had already established his group of friends in the theater club. He never specified exactly what happened, but he just began sitting with them and not the friends he had at the beginning of the year. He seemed really upset about it, or rather he tried to hide that he was upset about it.
Virgil was brought out of his reminiscing as he heard his ringtone sound. Patton was video calling them, he rolled his eyes and answered as the other two did as well. "Oh, Virgil you're not dead." Roman chuckled, "You weren't answering any of us on text." Virgil smiled, "Yeah sorry, just reminiscing." he said. "Oh, about what?" Logan inquired. "About how Roman got his ass kicked three times on the last week of school." Virgil said with a smirk as he heard Roman's offended noise.
"Hey!! It's not my fault! They snuck up on me!" He defended. Virgil shrugged "Fair enough, they were dicks." "I believe I heard about one of them going to prison." Logan stated nonchalantly. Roman raised his eyebrow "Recently?" He asked. Logan nodded, "He got caught selling drugs to students, Take a guess on who it was three, two, one-" "Jackson." The three said in unison. "Precisely." Logan answered
Virgil glanced back at the other two photos on the wall, as he taped the first one back in it's place. "You still have those, Virgil?" Roman asked, Virgil nodded "Yep." "don't say it like it's a bad thing Roman! I still have my copies of them." Patton said, moving his camera to show the pictures tacked carefully on the bulletin board which was framed with fairy lights.
"Nerds." Roman chuckled. "Oh, we're nerds? At least we didn't whine and throw a fit when we didn't get the lead for the play back in sophmore year." Virgil said, an obvious smirk on his face. "Okay! Listen here! I was spot on for the role, just the teacher didn't like me cause-" "Cause you were a show-off?" Logan chimed in.
"What is this, make-fun-of-Roman day?? And it's theater! You're supposed to show-off!" Roman said as he crossed his arms and pouted. The others laughed a bit before Logan stopped them. "This is quite fun, but I believe we all need to head to sleep, before we continue for another couple of hours." "aww, just a bit longer?" Patton asked, in that adorable tone that made Logan's cheeks flush. "I... guess, just for another few minutes though as it is 10:30 and we have to be properly awake and ready in time to be there." Logan said, earning a 'Yay' from Patton.
And they, did, they continued talking, but for a lot longer than a few minutes, more like, a few hours. Once it was just about 1:30, Logan happened to notice and got slightly upset for himself for losing track of time. They said their goodbye's and their 'I love you's quickly before hanging up. Unlike the others Virgil stayed up, continuing to reminisce through their four years together. They had all been dating now for almost exactly a year.
It was Logan and Patton who got together first, then Virgil and Roman... then as the couple's hung out more and more and going on more double dates than just normal ones, the possibility of a polyamorus relationship was presented to them by Logan, after of course, having discussed it with Patton first. They all accepted and had been together ever since. They obviously weren't the perfect group, and they had their fair share of fights, but nothing has torn them apart, yet.
It was the yet that Virgil feared, he feared the day that something would happen and split them all up, but for now, he didn't let that bother him. Him and the others were graduating tomorrow, then going out for dinner afterwards. He just wanted to focus on that, focus on finally getting out of that hell-hole, focus on seeing his boyfriends, focus on, just being happy, which he did and with a small smile on his face, he fell asleep peacefully.
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My Save Year: ch. 4
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12554533/1/My-Save-Year
Summary: Depressed and rejected by his family, Arthur longs for a new beginning during his first year of university. There he meets Alfred, an optimistic bright-eyed oaf with a sunny smile. An unlikely romance develops between them, one that was already doomed from the beginning. (USUK, multichapter)
Mid-October…
Prof. Braginski dismissed us from the lecture fifteen minutes earlier than usual. The new location of the lecture was desolate, much farther from the other buildings on campus. This was already the third switch up of classrooms; the class was nearly down to half its size. Most students dropped out because of the course’s inconsistency, choosing to take the online version instead.
Francis, Antonio, Lovino, Gilbert, and myself, on the other hand, stubbornly stuck it through with the original course. We were very much visual learners and had to see the material presented to us in order to truly engage with it.
Although, it was hard to listen to Prof. Braginski without feeling sorry for him. The man looked like he hadn’t caught a wink of sleep judging by the dark bags under his eyes. Everyone in the University stayed far away from him because of the paranormal rumours attached to his reputation.
Hell, we’d all experienced the random bangs and moans of ghosts haunting the classrooms he taught at. Although, only Francis and I could hear the latter. Still, it was hard for anyone to dispute that there was some sort of paranormal activity going on.
So far, this third location proved to be the quietest in terms of hauntings. The lights flickered, but that’s about it. We were located in a dingy basement of a church, using desks that were hardly big enough to place a laptop on. It was crowded and humid despite the cool fall weather outside.
Just as I was about to leave with Francis – we managed to tolerate each other now, and could even be considered just a tad bit more than acquaintances – Prof. Braginski asked me to stay back.
I complied and met the professor at the front podium.
Prof. Braginski gathered his papers before neatly placing them in his briefcase. “Ah, Mr. Kirkland, I’ve been meaning to speak to you for a while now,” he said apologetically, snow-white hair shining under the artificial fluorescent lights.
“I’m sure you’re aware that you’ve received the highest mark in the class for the first assignment, da?”
I nodded my head. My cheeks warmed. I was unsure of myself and quite frankly didn’t know how to react to praise. “Yes, sir, you sent me an email to inform me of this last week.”
Prof. Braginski straightened, readjusting his scarf in preparation for baring against the cold weather. “That long ago, huh?” he chuckled. “My apologies. If it’s any consolation, I have been quite busy lately with booking new classroom locations, as well as re-grading assignments. Many people in the class weren’t pleased with the results they received. Most of the time, these are the students who don’t attend any of my lectures.”
I nodded awkwardly, still unsure of what to say. The Russian was very intimidating up-close. He looked like he was capable of cracking a spoon with his thumb alone.
“Anyways, I just wanted to congratulate you,” Prof. Braginski continued. His violet eyes shined with kindness. “I know what’s its like to be an emerging writer. It’s tough, because you never truly know if you’re good enough. You’re always criticizing your writing, unable to see the talent laying right out before you like a shining beacon. Doubt is blinding like that.
“I try to tell students not to think that way when they get better. Just because you improve doesn’t mean that you were horrible before… I expect a lot of things from you, Mr. Kirkland. It was an immense pleasure reading your work. You just have such a way of getting down to the gritty details of how a character feels. It was almost paralyzing to read, and yet, I couldn’t unglue my eyes from the paper.”
“T-thank you, sir,” I stammered robotically. “This means a lot to me. Really, it does.”
“Anytime,” Prof. Braginski smiled. “All it takes is a bit of encouragement. We writers, we’re always so insecure about ourselves. Sometimes all it takes is a little push from someone who knows exactly what you’re going through.”
“I know what you mean,” I replied, wide-eyed. Briefly, my thoughts traced back to Alfred before focusing on Prof. Braginski’s slightly hooked nose. I was too shy to establish direct eye contact with him.
“So, have you started on the second prompt yet? I’m sure that you have. The deadline is fast approaching. What is it? Two weeks until it’s due?”
Our second prompt was to write a historical fiction piece. The time or genre didn’t matter so long as it was before 1960. We could depict anything we wanted to.
“Yes, sir,” I answered politely. “I’ve begun research in the library, and intend to continue it right now, actually. This was my last class of the day.”
“Oh, well, I won’t keep you for much longer then,” Prof. Braginski pursed his lips in approval. “Now, keep in mind this offer may not stand if I decide to leave next semester, but if I do decide to stay, I’m always looking for an assistant. This position would build you a lot of credit, and I’d be happy to invite you to a writer’s residency program afterwards. I see lots of potential in you, and I would hate for it to go unrecognized.”
“I…I don’t know what to say other than thank you,” I said, mouth gaped open like a bloody idiot. “I don’t know what I did to deserve���”
“Nyet! None of that,” Prof. Braginski interrupted, kindly. “You deserve every opportunity this world has to offer. I only offer this to students who I believe have a future in writing. Don’t question it, but rather accept your talent for what it is and hone in on it; tweak it; perfect it; and then, share it to the world, touch and reach the hearts of others, and maybe then, you’ll achieve the happiness you’ve long sought after.”
There was a knowing look in Prof. Braginski’s eyes as he clapped a hand over my shoulder. “When I was your age, I was stunted by a fear of rejection. It brought me many pains, and…” he paused. I could almost swear that tears were swimming in his old, wise gaze.
“…some ‘experiences’ I would rather not talk about. The point is, Mr. Kirkland, is to never let doubt plague you from achieving what you want. Don’t think, act. Now go, you have another marvelous one-shot to write for me. I very much look forward to reading it once it’s complete.”
Stunned, I stumbled forward. I had completely blanked out and forgotten what I had said to Prof. Braginski as I left the lecture room.
I was finally able to breathe again once I made it into the library.
The relief didn’t last long as I had to duck and creep past the study tables on the first floor. Matthew was holding his weekly Friday Homework club session, and since Francis was a stalker, he had long decided to attend them.
All right, to be fair, Gilbert first went to the meetings, and since Gilbert went, Antonio and Francis went too. Lovino was also forced to attend because of Antonio.
What was important was that Francis mainly came to these meetings because he wanted to check up on me. I avoided him because I didn’t want him to find out what I was doing here, other than working. I’d solve the case of the rooftop without his help, thank you very much.
It was hard enough coming up with excuses of why I couldn’t attend the meetings as all five of us walked over to the library together after class. Apparently, studying alone was beginning to lose its potency as an effective justification for not joining them.
Francis turned and eyed the bookcase I was using to hide/ walk behind. He was waiting for me to walk into the library, likely planning to use another guilt-trip tactic. Just because I tolerated him now didn’t mean that I wanted to spend every waking minute with him. Living together was more than enough.
Sapphire eyes narrowed before shifting their gaze to Matthew, who had cleared his throat several times to garner the Frenchman’s attention.
“Francis, focus on your work!” Matthew timidly scolded. He had about as much assertiveness as an endangered baby panda.
“Ah…oui,” Francis bashfully rubbed the back of his neck.
“Kesesese! Oh look, you made the little birdie angry,” Gilbert cackled.
“Gilbert, what did I say about you calling me that?” Matthew deadpanned.
“I’ll keep calling you as such until you finally agree to go out on a date with me,” Gilbert countered, a definite smirk on his face judging by the tone he used. “They don’t call me five meters for nothing…”
Lovino yawned and picked up his mobile. “Hi, yes, operator? I’d like to report a case of unnecessary sexual harassment.”
Antonio snickered. Lovino’s comment was unnecessary. Shy as he was, Matthew was more than capable of looking after himself.
“I’m starting to think that they call you five meters because of all the restraining orders people have filed against you,” Matthew huffed.
“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Smirking, I left for the rickety metal staircase leading up to the third floor. I couldn’t use the elevator, since it was in plain sight of the study group. God forbid that I had more than one social interaction today.
I wanted to look at the records’ section again. I was contemplating doing a piece about someone who had lived here in the past. Obviously, I would adjust the storyline and names and keep it tasteful, but I think it would be interesting if I wrote about what it was like to have attended this university many years ago. The spirits here that I’ve met already only attested to how rich and dark the school’s history was.
But, before I got to that, I had a certain yank to greet. Alfred waited for me at 4PM on weekdays where we met and chatted on the library’s rooftop. On the weekends, we had also grown accustomed to studying at the ‘food’ table in the fiction section together. As you can probably guess, I had yet to come up with any leads about the food snatching.
Not yet anyway.
The moment I stepped foot onto the rooftop, Alfred exploded. He was even more jittery than usual. “Dude, where were you? You’re late! I…I was beginning to worry,” he trailed off, solemnly reseating himself as I sat next to him on a bench. He was perfectly comfortable with me sitting next to him now.
“Sorry, one of my professors asked me to stay back,” I apologized for reasons inexplicable. When Alfred pouted like that I immediately felt sorry regardless if his sadness was irrational or not.
“He wanted to congratulate me for doing well on my first assignment. You know, the one I sent in last month?” I explained.
Alfred angrily scribbled in his notebook. “Yeah, yeah, you told me,” he muttered. “Good for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “What’s wrong now?”
Alfred ignored me. His cheeks weren’t just pink from the cold.
“Alfred, don’t be a twat. Tell me.”
“I thought you got tired of me and weren’t going to come again!” Alfred blurted out. “Sorry! I know I’m being irrational!” he chuckled. “Anxiety man, it really likes to mess with your brain, huh?”
“You’re correct. You are being irrational. We’ve been friends for how long now? Six weeks? Seven? I’m not just going to abandon you, Alfred. I couldn’t stand it if I did. Loud and crude as you may be, I truly enjoy talking to you. Just like you keep encouraging me to believe in myself, I’ll do the same for you. I like being your friend.”
“Say that. Say it again.”
“Why?” I smirked.
“Please?”
“I like being your friend, Alfred,” I huffed, crossing both my arms and ankles. Great, how was I going to tell him that I had to leave to do research?
Alfred broke out into a grin. “Thanks, buddy. I really needed that.”
I shrugged. “Anytime. Honestly, you can be so weird sometimes.”
Alfred ignored me again and began jotting down more ideas in his notebook. I had to look away when his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth.
“So,” I let out a deep breath. Cold air clouded around my face. “How’s class going for you? Are you working on another assignment?”
“Nope, just brainstorming ideas for my War AU,” Alfred chirped. “I can do that literary bullshit essay late at night like I usually do. Class is good, boring, but good. You?”
I deadpanned. Classic Alfred. If something didn’t peak his interest, he would torture himself and leave an assignment until the very last minute. What infuriated me was that he got higher marks than students who had started weeks before him. He was naturally talented. If only he put more effort into his studies…
Alfred was bright, but not keen.
I faltered. I didn’t want to leave Alfred just yet. Watching him work and brainstorm was a guilty pleasure of mine. He wore his emotions on his face. My heart fluttered every time his eyebrows would furrow, lips pursed in thought, cerulean eyes sparking with determination. I’ll repeat myself again: he was beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, but I couldn’t have him.
“Hey,” I started. “I’m supposed to write a historical piece for my next one-shot. Would you… mind if I took a look at your ideas? I could really use the inspiration.”
Alfred’s head shot up, blond cowlick bouncing. His expression was more surprised than anything else, but he didn’t look opposed to it. “Sure, man. Suit yourself. Not that any of this is good.”
He handed the bounded notebook to me. I intended to cradle it gently, as it was very valuable to him, but ended up gasping as the notebook landed sharply on my lap – it was a lot heavier than I had expected.
“Jesus Roosevelt Christ!” I cussed. “How much does this thing weigh?”
Alfred blushed, placing a gloved fist over his mouth. “I don’t know…this is years of ideas and ink you’re looking at.”
“Clearly,” I said as I flipped through the notebook. Several extra notebooks and papers had been clipped into the binding, which explained the extra weight. Still, it was unimaginable how much this thing weighed. I could barely hold it up without feeling like my wrists were about to snap.
“Say something already!” Alfred spluttered, red up to his face, neck, and ears. “You’re killing me here!”
After some time had passed, I closed the notebook having briefly glanced over the plot and historical notes. I didn’t need to do this, I was merely fibbing around so that I didn’t have to leave Alfred right away.
I had told myself before that I wouldn’t stay with him for long. Half an hour later, and it still wasn’t enough. Spending time with Alfred was like a drug. You craved it, needed it. Instead of a high, he gave me praise and acceptance. To me, this was the only satisfaction I would ever need and couldn’t nearly get enough of.
“It’s so thorough,” I remarked in awe. “And here I thought I was a good researcher. I can’t imagine how much thought was put into this. And the characterization, my word! You really root for Allen to survive the war in the end. It’s just a pity that it seems like you’re intending to have his mental health be his final undoing. You’re not going to kill him off, are you?”
Alfred’s solemn expression indicated the opposite.
“That’s so cruel!” I complained.
“Yeah, well, life is unfair like that,” Alfred grumbled, leaning back to drape his arms over the bench. God, how I wanted him to wrap his arms around me.
I fidgeted with my hands, thinking about how I was going to break the news to Alfred. He treasured our time spent together just as much as I did, only for different reasons.
“Thank you for showing me something so personal,” I murmured softly. “That was very sweet of you.”
“Did it help?”
“Yeah,” I smiled. “I really think that it did. Which brings me to my next point. I’m afraid I can’t stay here any longer. I have some research to do for the piece, and now that my professor is expecting a lot more from me, it’s got to be absolutely perfect.”
I stood up and slung my backpack over my shoulder.
Alfred spluttered. “Wha–?! You’re leaving?! Already?!”
I gave Alfred a sad look. “Yes, that’s what I just said, didn’t I?”
“No!” Alfred fumed. He slammed his notebook into his satchel.
“What do you mean, no?!” I snapped, irritation setting in.
“You heard me, Artie,” Alfred growled. He curled his gloved hands into fists as he stood up to loom over me. “This is our daily meeting time, so wherever you go, I go.”
“Alfred,” I deadpanned, promptly ignoring the putrid nickname. “You can’t just follow me around. I have work to do.”
“Yes I can! Watch me!”
“You’re going to get bored,” I shook my head in disbelief. Meanwhile, my heartbeat sped up, hammering in my chest uncontrollably. He was going out of his way to spend time with me. Me!
“No, I won’t. Now stop talking, and get researching. I’ll eat and supervise.”
I scoffed when Alfred pulled out a PB & J sandwich from his jacket. He really fancied those from the school’s cafeteria.
“Fine,” I growled. “Just don’t be too loud. And that means chewing with your mouth closed!”
“Yep! Mhmmghgph.”
“Oh dear god,” I sighed, holding open the library’s door for him. “How can you switch from being sweet and endearing to insufferable in thirty seconds flat?”
Alfred swallowed heavily. “Beats me.”
“Don’t you have something better to do? How come you don’t socialize with your actual classmates?” I asked. I let go of the door and it swung shut with a satisfying click.
This was something I had always wondered. I only ever saw Alfred in the library, or very rarely in the cafeteria. I didn’t know what he did in his spare time, let alone which dorm building he was residing in. He was a mystery, but I never asked these things out of fear of breaching his privacy and very fragile personal bubble.
We walked together comfortably on the soft padded carpeting and approached the balcony railing that overlooked the entire library. I took a sharp right and Alfred followed.
“I do,” Alfred replied. “But you’re the one I hang out with outside of class. I like you the most. I’m getting better at initiating conversations, though! It must be because of the practice I have with you.”
Of all people, the yank had learned how to socialize better from me. How ironic.
Still, that comment made me blush furiously; I had to turn away. If he kept saying things like that…
“So!” Alfred whistled. “What type of reaching are ya doin’?”
“I’m looking up biographies or newspaper articles about people who used to attend the university. We’re supposed to write a story about the past. I figured I would write a historical fiction piece about one of the lores people on campus like to gossip about. I mean, seriously. If I hear one more suicide horror story, my ears are going to bleed!” I sighed.
Alfred inhaled sharply. “That’s uh, real weird, Artie. Where are you taking us anyway?”
“You mean where am I going?” I smugly corrected. “You’re the one following me, remember? And, the records section, of course. I have to base this piece on someone, even if I am going to change up a few things.”
“Oh,” Alfred squeaked.
I stopped abruptly, turning to shed Alfred with an annoyed glare. “Let me guess,” I started. “You’re afraid there’s going to be more ghosts in this section?”
“Well, yeah dude, that’s a fact! I know this library from head to toe! I…uh came here a lot earlier in the summer than you did! The records section is the worse because it’s about real people! I would know, I used to sit there before I moved to the rooftop!”
“Tsk! You’re such a baby.”
“Am not!” Alfred protested.
“Are…” I turned around and realized that Alfred was gone.
I nearly jumped three feet in the air when Matthew came walking around a nearby bookshelf. “I thought I heard you up here, Arthur. Francis was looking for you earlier. He wanted you to come down and join us, but the meeting’s over now… Eh, who were you talking to? I thought I heard another voice?”
“Oh just some ridiculous yank who’s a total baby and is scared of ghosts!” I spoke up just in case Alfred was nearby.
“How nice, you made a friend,” Matthew smiled. He looked eerily maternal. I stifled a sigh. “I’ll let you two fight it out then,” he smirked. There was a knowing expression on his face. “And Arthur?”
“Yes?”
“You should really start coming to the meetings. Your other friends in it would really like you to go.”
“Maybe,” I shrugged.
“Mhmmm. Bye now.”
“Like hell I will,” I finished when Matthew’s soft chuckles had faded away.
Without a certain loud-mouth to interrupt me, I began pawing through several records. I flipped through maybe five of them before jumping again at the sound of a pop can opening.
“What the hell are you doing?!” I hissed, angry because I had nearly dropped the record book I was holding.
Alfred guzzled down a can of Fanta. “What?” he whined, letting out a loud “AH!” as the carbonated bubbles scraped at his throat. “There was a vending machine nearby and I wanted something to wash the sandwich down.”
I pointed a sharp index finger at a bin around the corner. “Garbage, now. You know full well that I work at this library. You’re breaking one of the only rules here.”
“But Artieeee!”
“Don’t you ‘but Artie’ me! Now I’m going to count to ten, and if that’s not in the garbage by the time I’m done…”
“I’m not doin’ it.”
“1…”
“…”
“2…”
“…”
“3…”
“Fine! Whatever! Be a stick in the mud, see if I care.”
“Hmmph! That’s what I thought,” I conceitedly murmured to myself, and then smugly resumed my research.
Alfred had his revenge when he snuck up on me from behind and playfully jabbed my side with his thumb.
“Gotcha!”
“AH!” Since I was a very ticklish person, I jolted and accidently elbowed Alfred in the stomach.
“OOMPH!” Alfred turned and staggered backwards. He grabbed at my waist to prevent himself from falling. All he managed to do was bring me down with him.
Disorientated, it took me a solid thirty seconds before I was aware of my compromising position. I was straddling Alfred.
Horror quickly set in.
Much to my surprise, Alfred didn’t panic. Instead he laughed, squinting up at me as his glasses were left askew on the bridge of his nose. His cerulean eyes seemed bluer under the fluorescent lights; it was an indescribable shade.
So was how red my face was.
“Bahahaha! Your face!” Alfred reached out to pinch my cheeks. “It’s so red!”
Silence.
“Oh, go fuck yourself!” I scowled and rigidly crawled off him. I stood up and brushed off the dirt from my pants, attempting to maintain some dignity.
“Aw, Arthur come back!” Alfred protested. He scrambled to his feet. “It was just a joke, I’m sorry! I’m also sorry for messing up your research!”
I looked over my shoulder, lips pursed in a death glare. “Good night, Alfred. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I grudgingly admitted that last part. I could never stay mad at him for too long. The way that his hair stuck up unevenly from the fall almost made me laugh, almost.
“Night!” Alfred giggled. He was shaking his head as if I were the weird one.
Unfortunately, I had a much larger problem in my pants to hide and eventually get rid of.
…
Several hours later…
…
I furiously rubbed at my eyes, hoping to alleviate a late-night grogginess spell. Each day, I had a set number of course readings and work to do. If I didn’t finish what I had set out to accomplish, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Perhaps, this was my OCD, but I absolutely despised being behind on my work. My anxiety simply wouldn’t be able to handle it.
I was stubborn, but at least this trait didn’t bring me unnecessary stress caused by procrastination. Yes, Francis, I’m talking about you, you overstuffed amphibian.
As of now, the Frenchman had gone to bed early, intending to get some beauty sleep. For once, he wasn’t out partying. Either way, he was a chronic procrastinator. Just watching him do his assignments at the last minute gave me high blood pressure, and I didn’t even like him!
“Come on,” I grumbled to myself, both squinting and widening my eyes. The pages were getting fuzzier and fuzzier.
It didn’t help that my level of focus was next to shit since the incident with Alfred in the library a few hours ago. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and when I did, I would cringe so hard stars danced before my eyes.
I leaned against the frame of my bed and straightened my posture. I had lost count how many times I’ve cracked my shoulders and spine. It was taking me over three hours just to get through thirty pages of material. Normally, something like this would take me an hour and a half at most.
A voice in my head begged for me to sleep, and my heavy-lidded eyes pleaded for this as well.
I hadn’t realized that my eyes had already closed until a large bang against my windowsill startled me back into focus. Again, with the irony here.
“I’m probably just imagining things,” I muttered. “Come on now, only ten more pages to go. I can do this.”
Not thirty seconds later, my window banged again.
Irritated, I swung my legs over the bed. The cold tiling pressing into the soles of my feet caused me to wince in discomfort. I padded over to the window anyway and narrowed my eyes.
“AH-! FUCK!” I gasped without a shred of elegance. A tall, hulking figure was perched on the tree outside my window. They were on the closet branch, waving at me with a massive hand. Were they going to throw a rock at me this time?
What if it was those delinquents from the bar area? Did they know where I lived now?
Panic crept up my throat. I could hardly breathe, and yet, I was frozen; motionless; terrified of what would happen next. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I willed them back.
“Artie!” The figure bellowed. Their voice was muffled by the glass panelling.
The clouds outside cleared. Under the moonlight, a gleam of spectacles and cerulean eyes reflected back at me.
I grabbed at my chest as if it would somehow stop my heart from beating as fast and unhealthily as it was now.
“Alfred!” I snapped. “What the hell are you doing here?! It’s one in the morning!”
Alfred motioned for me to open the window. “Can’t hear you, dude!” he mouthed, gloved hands cupped around his mouth. There was a devilish smirk on his face that didn’t sit right with me.
Because I was embarrassed, I couldn’t hope to stop myself from being rude. I wasn’t expecting company, not ever, but certainly not at this hour. I was wearing sweats and a hoodie; being presentable was far out of the question.
SLAM!
I opened the window harshly and scowled. “I said, what are you doing here?! It’s one in the morning, you imbecile!”
This was the first time I had seen Alfred outside of the library or cafeteria. I was being bombarded with too many surprises I wasn’t nearly prepared enough to deal with.
Alfred shrunk back. “I…ah…wanted to apologize for earlier. I didn’t mean to scare you off. I only meant to tease ya, and I guess it really backfired, huh?”
I blushed at the reminder. I couldn’t even bring myself to think about what I had done when I had gotten home earlier. Looking myself in the bathroom mirror in shame afterwards was more than enough.
“Apology accepted,” I scoffed. This whole encounter was just too ridiculous for me to process. “I’m sorry too. I get flustered easily. Although, what you’re doing right now isn’t helping. How did you even find out where I live?”
Alfred’s face brightened. “You told me you lived in the Gaul dorm, remember? This window was the only one with the lights on, and since you’re always studying, I figured this would be your room,” he explained. “You’re very predictable, Arthur. It doesn’t take a genius to figure you out.”
“Brilliant,” I remarked sarcastically. “You’re a true detective if I’ve ever seen one.”
“So,” Alfred shifted nervously. “You wanna come out and gaze at the stars with me?”
“Honestly,” I crossed my arms. “You make no bloody sense. First, you come to apologize to me when you could have done that tomorrow, and now you expect me to sit with you on a flimsy tree branch that likely won’t be able to hold up both of our weights?”
“I didn’t want to wait!” Alfred blurted out. “It was really bugging me. You just left so abruptly. I thought I hurt your feelings and then I felt really shitty about it and then I couldn’t sleep, so I came here because residence doesn’t let you in past 11 PM and now you’re being really mean and ah! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Crap! You must think I’m so weird… Also, this branch is a lot sturdier than it looks, man! I mean, it’s holding up my dead ass weight, ain’t it?!”
Silence.
Alfred rubbed at the back of his neck again and bit his lip. He was breathing heavily, too petrified to form a coherent sentence.
I caved almost immediately. Seeing Alfred be sad like this was too painful to watch.
“Fine,” I sighed. “But if I fall, I’m suing you. And are you really that surprised that I’m being mean to you? I thought you were trying to assault me! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
“Oh god!” Alfred gasped, sheepish. “I didn’t think of that! Not that I think anything through, ahaha!” he laughed nervously. “I just thought it was a nice night to enjoy. You would see this for yourself if you came out here.”
“Well, I can’t do that if you’re not going to help me,” I countered. “Not everyone has the figure of an Olympic athlete like you do. I’m not exactly made for climbing.”
Alfred smirked and crawled closer to the window. He extended a gloved hand, smug in all of his entirety. “My dearest pasty prince, may I escort you onto this branch?” he mused.
“Forget it,” I snarled. “If you’re going to be insufferable, I’ll just go back to doing my work.”
“No! Please!” Alfred whined. “Artie! Come on! It’s so nice out! Take a break for once.”
Silence.
Alfred’s cerulean eyes widened, tearing up for dramatic effect. “Please,” he said, waggling his massive hand at me. His long fingers grabbed at empty air.
Silence.
“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?”
My eyes twitched. Don’t look. Don’t look.
Damn it, I looked.
“Ple–!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, fine!” I snapped.
Laughing, Alfred took my hand. With a grunt, he hoisted me up onto the branch. He held my waist with both hands until I settled on the branch, comfortably next to him. There was a decent amount of distance between us. I pretended not to acknowledge the jolts of electricity that shot up my spine every time he touched me.
“See, isn’t it nice out?” Alfred said serenely, pointing up at the near perfect night.
I furrowed my brows. Just twenty minutes ago, it had been pitch-black out and now there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. The moon shone against us, a bright yellow orb that painted the campus with a dream-like dewy light.
“Yes, actually,” I admitted, glancing at the cluster of stars dotting the night. If you looked even closer, you could just barely make out the murky trails of several nebulas. The campus was in a remote enough location where star-gazing was far easier than it was in urban areas.
“I can’t remember the last time I was able to see full constellations,” I continued. “Actually, I just haven’t bothered to do something as simple as this for a long time now. You’re right, Alfred. It is nice.”
Alfred playfully bumped his shoulder against mine. “Thought so. You’re always so busy that you never look up to enjoy the simple things in life. I’ve yet to see you relax. Being high-strung must be a talent of yours.”
“Haha, very funny,” I yawned.
“Woah,” Alfred exclaimed when I began to sway without realizing. “Just how tired are you exactly?”
“Very,” I murmured. “I’ll be…fine.”
“No, no you’re not. Can I um…” Alfred faltered, craning his neck to look at me. “Can I wrap my arm around you? I just want to make sure you don’t fall!!!”
Turns out I wasn’t the only one blushing profusely.
“W-what?!” I spluttered, only to falter when Alfred shrunk back, embodying a kicked puppy position. “Well, ah, I mean, if you’re comfortable doing it, sure?” I squeaked.
Without another word, Alfred wrapped an arm around my torso in support. He was warm. I could feel the heat emanating from underneath his bomber jacket.
“T-thanks,” I whispered.
“Any time,” Alfred just about squealed, his voice a few octaves higher than normal.
Silence, again.
I willed myself not to breathe too much. Not that I was able to. Alfred was so close. I could smell him: leather, and the gruff scent of polish and hair gel. His arms were strong in their grip. I wanted to lean closer, but knew it wouldn’t be appropriate given our relationship.
Instead, I focused on admiring the night sky. If I met those wondrous cerulean eyes one more time, I didn’t know if I’d be able to handle it. They weren’t mine to look at. For now, I could only cherish them.
“Hey,” Alfred spoke up again. His entire body was tense. If he pointed up his chin any higher, he’d surely break his neck.
“Yes?” I replied, breathless.
“I really am sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s fine. You just startled me, that’s all.”
Alfred chuckled. “Just like I did now?”
“Yes,” I smiled faintly. “Just like you did now, you stupid yank.”
“Aw come on, that’s not nice,” Alfred chided.
“Oh shut up,” I huffed. “You’ve patronized me enough tonight. Just let me enjoy this moment while it lasts. Soon it’ll be over, and then I’ll be thrust back into the never-ending cycle of lectures, papers, and mid-terms. I need an outlet to vent my frustrations onto; you just so happen to be it.”
“Fair enough,” Alfred snickered. “But, didn’t you say something about having an annoying roommate? Don’t you get to vent your frustrations onto him?”
“Oh, believe me I do,” I said in loathing. “I try to avoid him most of the time, though. Unfortunately, he has a tendency to find me wherever I am. Our meeting spot on the rooftop is the only place I can hide from him.”
“Is he really that bad?” Alfred asked.
“Absolutely intolerable,” I shuddered. “He blasts music all day, drinks wine, and parties just about every other night. Not to mention that he constantly picks at me for, well, everything. My clothes, my diet, my hair…my writing; apparently it’s really depressing and cryptic. He usually shuts up after I tell him his writing sounds like it’s written from the perspective of a sixteen year old drama queen. God, I can’t stand angst. Maybe it’s because my life is already full of it enough as it is.”
Alfred shrugged. “I don’t know, dude. Maybe your roommate is just trying to pull out the best in you. I’ve seen what you bring for lunch. Not that I’m a master chef or anything, but bread and butter isn’t enough to get you through the day. I don’t mind how you dress, and as for your writing? As long as he’s not malicious, it’s okay to accept constructive criticism. I’m sure he cares about you a lot more than you think. He wouldn’t bother if he didn’t.”
“Alfred,” I groaned. “I’m trying to vent. I don’t need a rational explanation and analysis like you’re my frigging therapist. I’m angry, leave me be.”
“I’m just saying,” Alfred protested, albeit weakly. “It won’t do ya any good if you keep pushing away people.”
“You currently have your arm wrapped around me,” I slyly remarked. “I hardly see that as pushing people away.”
“Touche,” Alfred admitted.
“How about you?” I asked, re-directing the conversation. “Surely, you can’t be that great of a roommate if you’re out this late at night. Aren’t they going to be angry when you come back and wake them up?”
Truth is, I had no idea where Alfred lived on campus. We had never even spoken about the subject.
“Nah,” Alfred waved his free hand. “I’m in a single. All I have to worry about is sneaking past my res supervisor. It was pretty easy considering most people are partying in their rooms at this time.”
I nodded my head, stifling my jealousy. What I would have given to have a room to myself. If only I wasn’t dirt poor. No matter, this was what I came here for. I’d get a degree and make myself a solid career.
“Are you always this impulsive?”
“Yes.”
“That was a rhetorical question,” I deadpanned.
“I know, it’s just fun bugging you,” Alfred countered with ease. “I like how your eyebrows furrow together. It’s cute.”
Words cannot how flustered I became after that comment.
Thankfully, a distraction in the form of a very drunk Italian saved me from responding.
“Antonio, you bastard,” Lovino slurred twenty feet below. “Come here, and sweep me off my feet. I c-can’t walk, ahahaha!”
Antonio stumbled forward and giddily wrapped his arms around Lovino. “You’re so cold, mi amor. That coat isn’t warm enough for you. Here, allow me to help.”
I had to look away for the sake of privacy when the two began to make out.
Alfred and I remained quiet until they had finally walked away.
“They’re sure having a good time,” Alfred said shyly, a hesitant smile on his face.
I don’t know what overcame me, but suddenly, a surge of boldness balled up in my chest. Seeing Antonio and Lovino together didn’t just make me jealous. I was motivated to test things out with Alfred, however small the chances they were.
If not, I was perfectly fine with being friends with him.
Still, there was a small sliver of hope. Alfred was bi. He had his arm wrapped around me. Everything was set into place, and appeared like they were in my favour. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation talking, but I didn’t care.
I leaned closer into Alfred, humming pleasantly. Alfred stiffened, but didn’t pull away.
Perhaps it was the sereneness of the moment, or that I was enjoying myself, but I desperately longed for more intimacy. It’s been too long since I’d experienced it. After years of keeping to myself, Alfred was the first person whom I had ever kept for more than just a couple weeks at a time.
I wanted him. More than that, I trusted him.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t me who made the next move.
Alfred brushed his right hand over my left. “You’re not wearing any gloves,” he murmured. “They…they must be cold, right?”
“Mhhhm, yeah, very cold,” I said, impatiently.
I curled my fingers so that my knuckles brushed into his palm. “Tell me something, Alfred. Are you comfortable?”
“Y-yeah why do you ask?”
I flipped our hands so that I was holding onto his. “How about now?”
“Yeah…very comfortable,” Alfred flushed. “I’m never shy with you, Arthur. You k-know that.”
I leaned closer, pressing my face a nose’s distance away from his. “How about now?” I blinked.
“I would be more comfortable if you kissed me,” Alfred said, bravely meeting my eyes.
“Took you long enough, lad,” I grinned. “I knew you were clever.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips against his. I moaned lowly when his tongue poked at my bottom lip. I opened in compliance, letting our tongues slip together in slow, experimental movements.
“Mmmph,” Alfred sighed, and closed his eyes. Large, steady hands raked through my hair while my own placed themselves against his rock-hard chest.
I couldn’t believe it. I was kissing Alfred Jones… and he was kissing me back no less, with just as much want and need as my own.
Our kisses became rougher, teeth clacking against each other; messily, hungrily.
I gasped when Alfred squeezed my hips, moving so that his back was placed against the trunk of the tree. Sometime in between our sloppy brushing, I had crawled over to straddle him.
“Easy,” I growled. “You’re going to leave bruises.”
“I’m sorry,” Alfred breathed into my neck, feathering the sensitive skin with delicate kisses. “I’ve just wanted to do this for so long now. You’re beautiful, Arthur. I can’t help it.”
I nearly sobbed right then and there, but instead focused on drinking up the pleasure of the moment. For once, I was being called beautiful. I wasn’t just thinking that of another person.
I needed a moment to breathe, to take in what had just happened. I resorted to pressing my forehead against Alfred’s, inhaling deeply.
Alfred grinned and rubbed his nose against mine. “You haven’t said anything. I’m worried.”
“That’s because I don’t know what to say,” I replied, sliding to rest my head against his collarbone. I was too shy to make eye contact. “Here I’ve had a crush on you all this time, and it turns out that you feel the same way. I’ve never had something work out for me so perfectly like this. Forgive me for being stunned by it.”
Alfred tucked his chin over my head, one arm rubbing my back in comforting circles. “Yup…” he trailed off, voice cracking. “That’s me for you: I think I’m being straight forward, but I only end up confusing people. I’ll probably never stop being impulsive.”
“Don’t!” I smirked.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t stop being impulsive. It’s the part of you that I like most. How you get antsy at every off-hand remark. Or how easy it is to make you happy. You’re precious, Alfred. I wouldn’t ever want you to change that about yourself.”
“You don’t know me, I mean, all of me,” Alfred murmured into my hair. “I suck sometimes by being awkward and getting mad easily, you just haven’t seen it yet. I say things that I don’t mean. I…I… shouldn’t have done this. It’s a wonder why you want to be friends with me. I…always fuck things up…”
I pulled away from Alfred, alarm setting in. “No.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, I said no. Don’t you dare give up now. Alfred, I’m in no rush to take things farther. I’ll be patient if I have to, because hell if we both know that I’m far from perfect myself. Still, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I couldn’t bear it if you left, not after all that we’ve shared together. I would be happy only being friends with you. Please, just don’t leave.”
Alfred’s arm tightened around me. “Okay,” he took a jagged breath. “Someone’s got to protect you, right? I won’t leave you, Artie. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me too. You make everything bad happening around me feel like it’s nothing. I just want to see you smile; to hold you close; to make sure you…take care of yourself.”
“I do take care of myself,” I hiccupped into his chest.
“No, you don’t. Come, I’m putting you to bed and then I’m going straight home. What kind of lunatic does homework this late anyway?”
“A nerd,” I dryly replied, trying not to look too disappointed as I pulled away from him.
“I must be in love with a lunatic nerd then,” Alfred smiled, shyly with a bigger one just begging to be released. He still looked so uncertain. I didn’t want him to feel this way, so I resorted to being sarcastic in the hopes of teasing him out of his shell.
“And I must be in love with a grammarless yank.”
“Selective grammarless yank,” Alfred corrected.
“Yes, yes, whatever. Now are you going to help me into my room or not?”
“Oops, yeah, sorry.”
After much protest, and awkward fumbling movements, Alfred helped me into my room. He also forced me to put my books away. I offered no protest. He had an insufferable habit of making it impossible to say no to him.
Once the lights were shut and I was tucked underneath the covers in an angry, curled position, Alfred smiled and sat next to me on the side.
“What?!” I snapped. “I did what you said, didn’t I?”
“Nothing,” Alfred whispered. “You just look really cute again, grumpy too.”
“If you’re trying to flatter or court me, it’s not working,” I scoffed, turning my back on him.
Alfred placed a hand on my waist. Even though there was a good amount of fabric between us, it still burned pleasantly. “Don’t be like that,” he tutted. “Artie, look at me.”
Reluctantly, I flopped onto my other side. My glare was still in place, but my hot cheeks took away from the act. “What?” I spat.
Alfred bent over to kiss my forehead. “Good night. I should really get going, though. I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”
When he got up to leave, through the window as we had already agreed that Francis seeing him would cause way too much trouble and questions, I panicked. “Wait!” I hissed.
Alfred turned around, gaping. “Huh?”
I bit my lip. “Can you…stay?”
“Only until I fall asleep!” I added when I noticed the hesitant expression on his face.
The mattress shifted with another weight again. Things didn’t seem real. I was just so happy. “Okay, that I can do.”
“Good,” I said stiffly, and left it at that.
“Geez, Artie. Aren’t you just full of surprises?” Alfred laughed lightly. “I thought you didn’t need anyone else in your life?”
“Shut up. People change. It’s called character development.”
“Right, right. I’ll just let my handsome prescence lure you to sleep.”
He hadn’t just been teased out of his shell. He was lounging on top of it now.
“You’re lucky I’m exhausted,” I warned. “Otherwise – yawn – you would be expecting a good slap to the face for being so cheeky.”
“Literally.”
“Could you stop being such a smartass?” I snarled.
Alfred reached over to sweep a few strands of hair out of my eyes. “That I can’t do,” he said in a smug tone.
I rolled my eyes, too tired to argue. “Good night, Alfred. I hope you trip and fall on your way out.”
“You don’t actually mean that. Stop being so mean.”
“You’re right, I don’t. But it was still fun to say.”
“Shhh,” Alfred smoothed the back of my head. “You can argue with me all day tomorrow. But, you won’t be able to if you don’t get a good night’s rest.”
“Very true, love.”
“I just said shhh. You’re so stubborn, geez. I’m going to be here all night if you don’t stop.”
Precisely.
I hmphed but didn’t say anything more. Last night was the best sleep I’ve had in years. Why? Because someone other than Alistair genuinely liked me for me. I didn’t doze off with pervasive guilt, self-loathing or general anxiousness.
I was finally at peace.
…
The following morning, I staggered into the kitchen. I had woken up far later than usual, Alfred of course having already left some time last night.
I had a shift in an hour, so I would be able to see Alfred then. Honestly, I’d never understand why he was so adamant on being old-fashioned in everything he did. To not have a cellphone in this day and age was almost unheard of.
Francis was sitting at the small table we had set up, his laptop open with the latest news and a mug of coffee in his hands. He was already dressed and primed to perfection, whereas my hair was sticking up in every possible direction
I pretended to ignore Francis, refusing to let him sour my good mood. Hell, if he wasn’t there to stare at me, I probably would have allowed myself a small smile.
Someone liked me.
And I liked them back.
I still couldn’t get over it.
I drew the last straw when Francis tsked at me for my choice in breakfast: oatmeal and a slice of toast.
“What?!” I snapped. I was standing up, eating my toast over the sink. AS if I was going to sit down with him and engage in a civil conversation. Not when he was looking at me so critically.
Francis took a slow sip of his coffee, eyebrows raised. When he finished, he set down his mug in a dramatic, languid motion.
“You’ve been out communicating with spirits again, haven’t you?” he accused. “Arthur, it’s dangerous to do it alone, especially late at night. I would have come if they were bothering you that badly.”
“I did no such thing,” I said, and bit into my toast with a loud crunch.
Francis’s eyebrows raised even higher.
“I swear to God, I didn’t!” I snarled. “Stop looking at me like that. Even if I did, which I didn’t, I’ve already told you that if I need your help, I’ll ask!”
“Oui, whatever, keep lying to yourself. See if I care,” Francis sighed. He stood up from his seat and exited the kitchen.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?!”
Francis looked over his shoulder, sapphire eyes rolling. “I don’t know, ask yourself. You’re the one being suspicious.”
I turned away from Francis, furious.
My curiosity peaked when I realized that he had left his laptop open. Carefully, I leaned over the device.
In the search bar, he had typed in “How to get rid of nosy roommates.”
With a splutter, I blinked harshly when the webcam opened to snap a photo of me with a bright flash.
Francis poked his head into the kitchen, an obnoxious lilting smirk on his face. “What did I say: suspicious. Now I have my proof. The Arthur I know would never care about what I search, let alone think. You’re unusually happy, and it’s beginning to freak me out.”
So much for my good mood.
To be continued…
#hetalia#aph#aph England#aph America#USUK#aph France#spamano#fanfiction#ellaawkward#mun would like to see more reviews#she's curious about your thoughts and predictions
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Reclaimed Crown ~ Part 4
Authors note: the text post are @deepsexts
Part One Part Two Part Three
she sat staring at him “this is so awkward. we are both intelligent people and you can’t even figure out how to be comfortable with the sex talk.”
“Before i get to that i wanted to thank you for being patient with me. this....has all taken a lot of adjustemtn for everyone involved. and of course last week we dealt with Eurus.” he sighed when he mentioned his sister. “Yopu seem to be the least troubled one in our family.”
“You are not going to convince me to work for the government i want to to do somethign where i can work with Molly and Charlie. I don;t want to be professional dancer it is just a hobby.”
he looked at her and sighed “I wish i had been so sure of myself when i was your age most of where i am today i fell into by chance due to protecting sherlock from his addictions. Part of the reason i am glad you didn;t come to london until last year because Surelock may have done thigns that would have indirectly harmed you.” he caressed her cheek.
He stammered his way through an explantion of human reporduction “Sex isn’t to be taken lightly. One can hope if you ended up in the same situtation you were created from. that young Mister Msdaniel would take responsibility.”
“You’re the anonymous benefactor that paid for me to study in Copenhagen for three months.” he smiled at her “Daddy, i am not an idiot and Charlie isnlt either. we are waiting until it feels right.”
“How about we go somewhere for dinner. my flat is sadly in need of food and i need a change.”
“as long as you eat a slice of cake i know it is one of your guilty pleasures.” she said as they went to his “By the way for fouture reference i was hte only one who was fully paying attention during human reproduction the only part of the biolgy classes my mind wandered durign was disection.”
“You found the false panel in the back of the cabinet?”
“six weeks ago. you are an adult you shouldnlt pretend you don;t like cake. by the way why did you take charlie to the Diogenes Club.”
“it is where i go to relax i figured he needed a quiet place that wasn’t surrounded by death.” he was also debating admitting younger members to the club and changing things up a little because having his daughter around made him realize he didn;t have to pretend like he didn’t matter.”I spent so much of my life creating a comfort zone. and I didnlt even let anyone in the family into that often.”
“Ifigured that otu the first timei saw your flat it is a lirrle more closed in than 221B.” she said
the next day at Charlie’s flat “I think in his way Dad has accepted you into his inner circle.” she started giggling when he kissed her neck
“he really had the sex talk with you i am trying to Imagine Mycroft Holmes.” he said “is this because i am five years older than you and he thinks that since i m guy i bug you for sex.”
“he;s just trying to be normal dad which is hard considering he controls assassins and is datign hte prime minister.” she laughs as he kisses her neck “at least let me put my phone in the table drawer before you start cuddling it took me an hour to find it last time.”
He nuzzled his face into her neck “I passed my architecture finals.” they both knew Mycroft was the reason reporters weren’t hanging out outside the building he lived in. “My anatomy finals are next week and i think my professor thinks of me as a fluke.”
“Charles Mcdaniel, listen to me. you are beign taught anatomy by one of the most brilliant women in England. You will be able to pass anatomy finals. After your semester is ove r we can go to Italy for a few weeks.”
“Why not next week.”
“Because i convinced dad to clear his schedule for a few days so we can go to paris. we havenlt gone on trip at all since i came to London.” she looked at him and giggled as he kissed her nose “Maybe when we go on our trip i will be ready for that next step.”
“are you sure?”
she nodded.
a week later in paris
“So the real reson you have absolutely no peoper way to act when sherlock shows you pictures of Rosie is it reminds you of all the moments you missed with me?” Lucy said as they stood on the balsony watchign the night life of paris go on below them
“Yes. In part. and it also makes me wish i had lived my life a little more. I love your uncle. But sometimes feelign obligated to watch over him feels like a burden.”
“I figured htere was reason that John is almost the exact same age you are. you needed someone you knew you could trust to balance out sherlock and become his friend withut making him worse.”
“i suppose so. By the way you speak french better than i did when i was your age.”
Meanwhile i nthe St Bart’s Morgue ”Charlie i know you can get this right. we need a break.” lets play some music
“You’re right We’ve been goign ovet the information for my exam for 8 hours.” the turth was he missed Lucy and he knew he could call her but he didnlt want to interrupt her bonding time “i am kind of hungry i forget to eat when LUcy;s not around.” he takes off his rupbber gloves and washes his hands
“I think sherlock is goign to ask me to Marry him but hels waitign Until Lucy and Mycroft get back. I am sure Lucy is goign to take you the Anniversary party for her Grandparents’ wedding anniversary.”
“Mrs. Holmes invited me. It is hard to believe such sweet people raised Mycoft.” he said
“well if you want to be tchnical Sherlock and Mycroft were what americans call latchkey kids.” Mycroft said as she entered. “I was bringing Rose to the pedtrican for a check up and decided to see if you two needed somethign to eat.”
they both laugh “I fact we were about to take a break. this young man is having hard time focusing on his studied with Lucy in Paris with Mycroft.” Molly said “here is my little god-daughter?”
“She;s being fawned over by the nurses upstairs. they still have hard time beliieving that sherlock Holmes delivered a bab y in the back seat of a car. let alone that I asked him to the be the baby’s godfather.”
Molly “have i ever told you about hte day of Rosie’s christening?” she paused “t a was few months before Lucy came to London and Sherlock was tryign to keep his mind occupoed and he wouldnlt stop texting for like two weeks. I hade to keep tellign him to put his phone away! he finally quit when i elbowed him.”
Charlie laughed ‘Good grief that must have been a sight.” he paused “xan we go somewhere where can get soemthign a bit stronger than tea. and i am not talking about coffee.” he respected Lucy;s rule about not drinkign aroudn her but he needed something like scotch or something “Before they left to go on their trip Mycroft invited me to be the first of new genration and new chapter in the History of hte Diogenes Club.”
“I think it means hels taking Lucy;s advise on broadening his social circle the way she described that place to me it is depressing it is all bunch of men who could be sittign around having intelligent conversation but they all just sit around reading and being antisocial in a room together.”
“we could go to my house. because I am not taking Rosie to a pub.” Mary said.
In Paris......Mycroft looked at Lucy :Ican see that looks in your eyes. it is okay with me if you make a Quick Phone call to Charles. He probably misses you. you;ve been apart for three days.”
Lucy goes into the next room and texts charlie

Shrlie reads the text and grins “I’ll be right back.” he steps outside and calls Lucy :”I miss you baby. how is hte trip going?”
Lucy smiled “I love you, Charlie. I miss you.” she paused “the trip is goign fine Dad saw i was missing you and said it would be alright if i called you.”
he laughed “I was avoiding callign you because I didnlt want to itnerrupt your time with your father.” he texts him a picture of Paris “Maybe someday we can go to Paris together.”
“I havenlt even discussed hte fact that his girlfriend toffered me a Job as an intern in her pr department. i will pay well it and it involves photography.” before the battery in ehr phone die she sends him one ore text
“Thanks for understanding Dad. I wanted to devote my time to you but seeing the couples along hte river posing for chracatures amd kissing made me think fof Charlie.”
In London......
“Ack, Molly is it insane that i want to marry Lucy. i even know what i want to say to her.” he pauses “Frget a hicky i want to mark you with my name.”
they squeeled a little “that’s so precious. “
“Lucy is very special person. i am not just saying because her mother is a semi retired CIA agent. she’s a clever per.” Molly said
Mary comes into the livign room with Rosie “Rosie is being too stubborn to sleep so i brought her in.”
Charlie “It surprises me that you chose Sherlock as a God father.”
“He is John’s best friend. and Molly and greg balance out Sherlock though.”
Molly “I think it is partly to get Sherlock to spend more time with me.”
“Maybe.” she loved being Mary Watson more than she liked her life as an assassin.”
In Paris
they sit on the couch in their suite. “tell me what Quentin was like as a father. I know you adored the man before you realized i was your father.” lucy rested her head on his chest.
“i remember whenever i was sick and couldnlt leave collinwood he would have the servants take me to the grand dining room andlet me rest, on the chaise, he would play classical music on his piano until i fell asleep. on my 13th Birthday he took me to Florida. not to the well known theme parks but to out of way museums.”
“Did he ever compose and original tune for you? Sherlock mentioned you asked him to compose somethign for your 21sr Birthday.”
“He never really brought it up but i think he wanted for my 18th Birthday. because found blank sheet music before i met you that said for Lucy, on it.”
“He did have a point. He knew i would never talk to you. i regret not having the nerve to talk to you sooner. Anastasia was name i suggested..” Mycroft said
“How are things Going between you and Lady Smallwood?” she said grinning, she knew he would never bring it up “I figured it had to have been suggested from Someone because Olivia was her Grandmother’s name.”
“i am not sure what to say about MY relationship with Lady Smallwood. it is all new to me i;ve never been in a relationship before. I’ve spent most of my life since age age 13 taking care of Sherlock. I need to do somethign for myself and let Sherlock be Sherlock.”
Lucy stands up “I’m going to order Cake from room service you need to Indulge. we are on Vacation.” she said as she called room service and ordered two slices of cake and two glasses of milk. “Merci.”

An hour later “I need to remember to indulge once in while it will always be enriching. You should take hte Job with lady Smallwood. It would be good on future resumes. It will be a good way for you to stay in London while Charles is studying Medicine.”
“You knew about that?”
“she asked me if i thought it would be a good idea. Not many americans get chance to work for the British Government.” he smiled, for the first time in his life he had somethign to be proud of. “You are remarkable young woman. i only wish i had taken part in raising you sooner.”
“You are doing just fine dad. stop dragging yourself down.” she looked at him “You are an amazing personand you are doing your best. I am honestly amazed that all of Sherlock’s friends accepted me.” she said as she started to yawn. she goes itn othe bathroom to brush her teeth and get ready for bed while Mycroft places the tray out i nthe hall for housekeeping to pick up.
a few days later when they return to London Charlie is waiting there
“I;ve done some stupid shit. But asking you out was one of the best decisions in my life.” he said as he kissed her “Your dad’s car is waiting outside.” he smiled “I’m here. I intend to stay.”
Mycroft decided to give them space as they walked out to the car, he honestly liked their energy he spent so much time around serious people
“I missed you so much, Lulu Bell.” he said as they got to the car and he helped the driver put the luggage in the trunk
“I missed you too, Charlie.” she smiled “How did you do on your final.”
“I don’t know it will take the professor a week to grade everything/ but i was able to study better after i talked to you.”
Mycroft rolled up the window after he got in..
To Be continued......
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The Dragon in the Box (2 of ?)
Sherlock waited until they had rounded a corner before retreating from his hiding place. He trailed behind them, trying his best not to seem suspicious, even though every instinct he possessed screamed at him to turn tail and run. He wanted to avoid a direct confrontation, that was for sure.
But he also knew he should keep an eye on them, not knowing what they might do. They were chatting quietly, and the man was gesturing wildly, his brown coat flapping in the breeze. Sherlock couldn't quite make out the words, which meant he was going to have to get closer if he wanted to figure out what they were saying. The man suddenly turned, and Sherlock froze mid step.
"Excuse me, but do you happen to know where to find flat 221C?" He asked, his voice cheery. He bounced on his feet as he spoke, seemingly unable to keep still as he talked. He fluttered a newspaper in the air, his thumb directly beneath an article advertising their free space. Sherlock nodded and forced a smile, trying his best to stay calm.
"Yes, I believe I do." The female let out a sigh of relief.
"Oh, you are a lifesaver! And here I thought we'd end up runnin’' around London for the better part of the day!" Sherlock started walking back toward the flat, but he made sure to take the longest route. The man strode along beside him, and Sherlock eyed him closely. He had a slight indent on the bridge of his nose, so he must wear glasses at least some of the time. He walked at a rather brisk pace, and his shoes were quite worn, probably a good runner. He turned to Sherlock and smiled lopsidedly, sticking out his hand.
"I'm The Doctor, by the way." Sherlock delicately shook his hand,
"Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes." The woman let out a snort of laughter,
"Oh yeah? And I'm the wizard of Oz!" The Doctor looked relatively startled, nudging her slightly with his elbow. She furrowed her brow and he mouthed the words I'll explain later Before turning back to Sherlock.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Holmes!" Sherlock just nodded at that, carefully studying the movements of 'The Doctor' The woman cleared her throat to break the silence.
"So, I've heard you're a detective then?" The Doctor shot her a warning glance, but she just ignored it.
"Yes, quite. And what exactly are the two of you, as I can see you aren't a couple." She smiled at that.
"I think you may be the first person who didn't think we were married." The Doctor nodded to affirm this, chuckling quietly to himself.
Sherlock could’ve sworn he heard him mumble something along the lines of: “Except for Agatha Christie.”
Sherlock started to smile but stopped himself, remembering that one of them was a dangerous beast in disguise. He quickened his pace, knowing that the flat was just up the block.
"We travel together." Sherlock narrowed his eyes,
"Whereabouts?" The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair.
"Everywhere, we've been all over the place really."
"How interesting..." Sherlock shifted his focus to The Doctor's companion, "I don't think I caught your name."
"Oh, Donna Noble." He surveyed her character, taking in every detail he could. She looked a little tired, and she was falling behind a bit. Her coat was partially done-up, but a couple buttons were in the wrong holes.
"Why were you in such a hurry earlier?" He inquired. Donna looked taken aback by his question but was quick to recover.
"None of your business." She snapped, coming up alongside The Doctor. Sherlock resisted the urge to smile, knowing her outburst meant he was right. They came to the front of the flat, and Sherlock pointed to the door next to his.
"That would be it, and if you'll excuse me, I'll be off." Before either The Doctor or Donna could get a word in, he threw open the door and retreated to his study, a little bit shaken by what he had just experienced.
The Doctor watched him go, a little bit puzzled by his odd behavior. Something must've unnerved him, but what? He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice Donna knocking on the front door, and nearly jumped out of his skin when the door was pulled open.
"Oh, you must be here to check out the flat then! Come in! Come in!" She ushered them inside, taking their coats and hanging them up. "I'm Mrs. Hudson, the landlady here." The Doctor looked around at his surroundings, it was a quaint little place. It looked freshly cleaned as well, not a speck of dust in sight. "It's just your basic flat, one bedroom, kitchen, bathroom... Just don't mind the neighbors."
"Why would we worry about the neighbors?" Asked Donna, closely inspecting the patterned wallpaper. She fiddled with the hem of her dress,
"Well, you may hear gunshots at ungodly hours of the morning, but I can assure you that it's perfectly legal, they're with the police." The Doctor turned to her,
"Is that so! Well, so are we!" She smiled at that.
"That's quite the coincidence!" The Doctor took Dona's arm, earning a jab in the ribs.
"Can we have a minute?" He asked, Mrs. Hudson nodded.
"Oh of course! Would you fancy a cup of tea?" Donna smiled.
"That'd be lovely, thanks!" The second she had left the room, Donna turned to The Doctor, her arms folded across her chest.
"I don't see why we can't just stay in the TARDIS..." The Doctor ran his fingers along the wall absentmindedly.
"We can move the TARDIS into the flat, we just need to appear to be regular people for a while." Donna stifled a laugh. "What?"
"You!? A NORMAL person!? Are you serious?!" The Doctor frowned.
"I can be normal when I want to be..."
"You're a bloody space-dragon!"
"Yeah, but you didn't figure that out until I showed you." Donna sighed exasperatedly.
"Fine. We'll take the flat." The Doctor grinned,
"I knew you'd come around, and besides, how bad can it be?" Donna mumbled something under her breath and shifted her feet on the floor. Mrs. Hudson came back into the room, holding a tray with five cups of steaming tea. The Doctor moved to hold the door and she smiled.
"Oh, thank you kindly!" The Doctor nodded and cleared his throat.
"We'll take it!" She looked between him and Donna with a gleeful smile lighting her features.
"Oh, that's wonderful! I'm sure you'll just love it!" A sudden gunshot caused Donna to jump, and The Doctor looked around nervously. Mrs. Hudson sighed and set the tea down before heading upstairs, shaking her head slightly. The Doctor and Donna shared a glance before following her up,
"What exactly was that?" Asked Donna. Mrs. Hudson smiled weakly.
"That'd be Sherlock." She knocked on the door, and it was answered by a man with sandy-blonde hair and brown eyes. He looked rather exasperated.
"I confiscated it, but he's gone and found it again. We should have a dragon guard that thing!" Donna nudged The Doctor at the use of the word dragon, and he just shook his head.
"Not a dragon." He whispered to her.
"Whatever you say." She shot back. The man in the doorway suddenly seemed to notice the pair standing behind Mrs. Hudson.
"Who're your friends?" He asked. Mrs. Hudson smiled,
"They're moving in downstairs at 221C." The Doctor gave a friendly wave, and Donna smiled. Another BANG echoed around the building. The man at the door turned on his heel and stormed into the room.
"SHERLOCK!" He roared. Mrs. Hudson followed him in, and The Doctor was about to as well when Donna grabbed his sleeve.
"Tread carefully Lizard-Boy." The Doctor grinned.
"When do I not?"
"Do you want a list?" He held the door open for Donna to step through, and she jumped at yet another BANG. Sherlock was sitting in a rather nice armchair and was pointing a revolver at a smiley-face painted on the wall. A few scattered bullets coated the floor beside him.
He took one look at The Doctor and set the revolver on the table. The man who had opened the door offered his hand to The Doctor.
"Hi, I'm John Watson." The Doctor shook his hand firmly,
"The Doctor." John looked a little confused.
"Just 'The Doctor'?"
"Yup!" He nodded, popping the ‘P’.
"Don't get him started on his name." Donna injected, "Trust me on that." John smiled and gestured to the table.
"Care to sit down?" Donna slumped into a chair, and The Doctor remained standing. Mrs. Hudson passed out tea to everyone before heading back downstairs with her cup, still smiling softly to herself. John looked toward Donn expectantly. "And you are?"
"Donna Noble, late thirties, was in quite a rush earlier today." Answered Sherlock. John sighed heavily,
"He always does this, he did it to me when we first met too." Sherlock eyed her closely.
"You don't have any pets and don't particularly enjoy running, though you've been doing quite a lot of it since you met him." Donna looked dumbfounded,
"How...?"
"Your coat, this morning, some of the buttons were in the wrong holes and you walked slower than The Doctor and I, meaning that you were probably already running around today."
"Hold on," Interrupted Watson, "You've met them already?"
"Yes, met them on my walk after you kicked me out, do try to keep up John."
"But I thought you said you'd me-" Sherlock gave John a warning glare to silence him before returning to his explanation.
"The age was mostly a guess based on height and appearance, and you don't have any claw marks or fur on your clothes, meaning that the only pet you'd have would be a fish, so that was a guess as well. And besides, most people who travel don't have pets. The fact that you don't like running was easily deductible, your shoes don't look like they were made for moving around all that quickly, but they are incredibly scuffed up meaning that you have been running." Donna stared at him, wide-eyed.
"That's bloody insane!"
"No, it's simple deduction.” He sniffed. “As for you Doctor..." The Doctor tensed up a little when Sherlock fixed his steely gaze on him, unsure of just how much he'd be able to figure out. "You care about her a lot more than you let on, though you only think of her as a friend. You run quite frequently and you wear glasses some of the time." The Doctor was about to smile, as nothing that important about him had been revealed, but he was shocked by what Sherlock said next. "You've seen a lot of wars, and you've done many things you regret. You are older than you look and aren't from anywhere around here, though you do rather like London. Only a few people know who you really are and you don't reveal your true colors easily." The Doctor felt his hearts speed up, he had underestimated Sherlock, that was for sure.
"Care to tell me how you knew?" Sherlock stood to face him and held eye contact as he spoke.
"The second I started telling you things about her, you looked worried. This would suggest that you care what happens to her. But not enough to slow down on our walk, which means you can't be lovers. As for the glasses, you have a slight indent on the bridge of your nose which I spotted during the walk. Your shoes, like hers, are rather scuffed, but they were made for running which suggests that you know you run a lot."
"And the wars?"
"You tensed up when I started talking about you, so you clearly have some secrets. Your traveling companion jumped when I fired the gun, but you didn't, meaning that you have heard the sound of bullets on more than one occasion. You have the eyes of someone who's seen too much and everyone regrets at least one thing in their lifetime. You say you travel a ton but you do, however, have an accent which means you are here often enough to keep it. Does that cover everything?" The Doctor thought over what he just heard,
"Everything except for the fact that I don't show many who I really am. And that I'm not from London." Sherlock broke eye contact, and sat back down in his chair, leaning his head into his hands.
"That's for me to know and you to find out." Watson eyed The Doctor suspiciously. "Oh relax, I don't think he's dangerous John." Donna smirked at that.
"He's about as threatening as a kitten with a Santa hat." She affirmed. The Doctor looked at her with mock offense.
"Oi! Kittens can be very threatening!" John chuckled slightly and became a bit friendlier after that, but Sherlock was careful to keep a close eye on The Doctor. He didn't know why The Doctor was there, which irked him to no end, but he knew it couldn't be a good thing.
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