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queenimmadolla · 2 years

Note

could we have something with wayne? i love wayne 🥺 was he upset when reader first got pregnant? worried about how eddie would cope and the consequences of having a baby so young? or was he buying onesies and telling everyone in the trailer park he was gunna be a grandpa?

this was an absolute delight to write. the penny verse is an extension of another series I have (Call You Mine) and Wayne is heavily involved in later chapters. this contains a ton of spoilers for it but i don’t care all that much because I love Wayne too and I really like his relationship with reader and what I have going for his backstory with Eddie. hope you enjoy it!

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬

(Father-in-law!Wayne Munson and Daughter-in-law!Reader bonding)

warnings: mentions of pregnancy and drugs (reader does not use)

a/n: reader is 19, eddie is 20 and both are married to each other. daisy edgar jones is NOT reader, she is how i imagine Eddie’s mom to look so she’s used for the aesthetic. happy reading and let me know how you like it! as always, reblogs and comments (not jerk ones) are appreciated and mistakes will be fixed later!

more of the pennyverse here

It’s late, the sun is dipping below the earth visible to your eye, the trailer park lit only by the porch lights attached to a few of the mobile homes and light slipping through window blinds, drapes and curtains.

You’re standing in front of the window next to the front door, fingers separating the blinds and fingertips pressed against the cold glass. It’s warm in the trailer, compared to outside and courtesy of the space heater that goes above and beyond in heating your humble home.

The musical sound of Eddie, singing something of Whitesnake’s in the shower can be faintly heard but you aren’t paying him any attention. Your only focus is on the tan trailer four down from Maxine’s; spread out and relaxed in one of the lawn chairs under its awning is the Munson you’re most concerned about, at the moment.

It had been almost an entire month since you’d last spoken to him, something you hadn’t been aware of until you had purposely started to avoid him.

Your relationship with Wayne Munson was anything but complicated. Well, until recently. When you’d first met him, not only did you discover he was about as wise as he looked and not nearly as scary as you imagined him to be (reminded you a lot of Eddie, actually), but you also realized he cared for Eddie, deeply. Enough to sit you down and tell you all about how he knew of Eddie’s deep affections for you before telling you all about his relationship with Penny—Eddie’s mother—and how he hoped you two would have a much happier ending. He’d asked you to take care of Eddie then, too. If you wanted to be with him, that was. And you did, so you agreed.

Then you’d broken up with Eddie. You’d been heartbroken the entire time and positive you’d disappointed Wayne. Only, when you made your way to the trailer to fix what you’d destroyed, you had encountered Wayne again and expected to be turned away. Instead, he told you he knew you wouldn’t break your promise to him and welcomed you back.

The thing is, while you were sure he really believed you wouldn’t break your promise to take care of Eddie, you were also sure there had to have been a moment during your break up in which Wayne Munson regretted ever trusting you with his nephew’s heart, especially since that nephew was more his son than anything.

Now, you were disappointing him again. It didn’t have anything to do with leaving Eddie, far from. If anything, you were now permanently bound to Eddie, in some way. You’re pregnant, as in you have his baby growing inside of you.

It had come as a shock to you because you had no inkling that you were pregnant up until a couple of weeks ago (like two) and just as you were beginning to actually enjoy and soak in the fact that you and Eddie were going to be parents (you were gonna be someone’s mom! How fucking weird!), Eddie burst your bubble, informing you he’d seen Wayne recently and mentioned it to him.

You love Eddie. Want to spend the rest of your life with him doing stupid shit like marrying him right after your graduation ceremony and having a baby at the apparently irresponsible ages of 19 and 20, but you wanted to strangle him right then. Not just because he’d told Wayne, but also because he’d done so like he was some random person from his past who asked him how he was doing and he’d casually mentioned that he and his young wife were expecting. Wayne deserved better than that.

Which is why, after days of cowering and avoiding him (it wasn’t all that difficult, Wayne spent about 98% of his time at his girlfriend’s home—the trailer you were staring at—so you hadn’t seen him often to begin with since that romance had developed) you’re determined to talk to him. Just need a couple more minutes to work up the courage.

You aren’t stupid. Well, you are, but not that stupid. You know what most “adults” (you’re an adult, too, but you’re talking about the old ass folks) thought about you. How dumb they assume you are for marrying young and Eddie, no less (they could suck your dick, he’s a fantastic husband), and now that you’re pregnant—and not even showing all that much—you know they’d think they were right. Like having a baby with the man you loved was some giant fucking punishment. Clearly, they need to rethink who they are married to if it was such a concern for them or mind their own business.

But Wayne…god, you had no idea what to expect from him. He was one of the few people in this town whose opinion you actually respected and valued. He’d wanted you and Eddie to wait a little but still gave him his blessing to marry you because he knew nothing would stop you. Your parents had been about the same, but that’s a different, messy story. Marriage was one thing, having a baby is much larger than that.

You’d been avoiding Wayne out of fear of hearing him voice what you knew was slowly making its way around Hawkins: you’re making a mistake.

You’d be disappointing Wayne. Again.

Still, you can’t avoid him forever.

You see the man in question rattle the beer can in his hand, something you’d seen him do plenty of times on the couch outside of this trailer before he’d take the lack of liquid in it as a sign to get up, joints creaking, and make his way inside for the night.

You hurriedly slip on your coat and crash through the front door. It’s much colder than you anticipated but you ignore it and soldier on, making your way down the road.

You stare at your shoes as you sit in the empty lawn chair next to his, the cold of it numbing your butt on contact.

You know he’s not looking at you, probably still admiring the colors of the sky and taking everything in like he always is.

He breaks the silence first.

“Bit cold out for you, ain’t it?”

You wet your lips, hands curled in the warm pockets of your coat.

“It’s not so bad. I prefer cold weather over the heat.”

He hums, low and always all-knowing. You know that he knows why you’re here. Just like Eddie, he’s patient with you; letting you come to him, letting you tell him when you’re ready. You think maybe Eddie picked up that particular character trait from how Wayne interacted with him.

“I wanted─” You start and don’t finish. Another moment passes before you try again.

“I didn’t─”

Fuck! Why was this so hard? You hadn’t realized how badly you wanted to make him proud of you, after everything you’d put Eddie through (who probably put Wayne through a lot, as a result), you wanted to make up for it by being good to his boy and what was supposed to be a happy thing was beginning to feel like you trapping him. You knew that wasn’t the case, Eddie wanted the little being growing inside of you just as much as you did.

Trying to explain that to someone so much older was challenging. Trying to explain it to someone older and someone you didn’t want to ever look down on you, was practically impossible. You probably appear young and dumb.

You figure, maybe it’s time to succumb to defeat, shoulders sagging.

“You can say it.”

It’s a whisper but Wayne hears it, finally turning his head to take you in. You still can’t meet his eyes, don’t want him to see how sad yours are.

“Say what?”

“That I’m stupid. I’m ruining my life, settling. Trapping him. Screwing him over,” you don’t even notice you’re doing it, your hand moves to rest on your stomach, as if to protect your baby from the accusation you’re about to throw out. “I’m making a mistake.”

Wayne doesn’t say anything at first, just hums again. It’s not one of agreement. His thumb runs over the aluminum of the beer can in his grasp.

“You think that?”

You brave a glance at him, willing yourself to not cower under his gaze. Wayne Munson’s stare can have any sinner confessing, just from the sheer intimidation in it.

You can’t find your tongue all of a sudden, feeling like a child. You just shake your head, timid.

“Then why would I think that?”

“Uhm, because. Uh, because it’s what everyone thinks. It’s what they thought when we got married in June, too.”

Wayne chuckles, shaking his head fondly.

“Didn’t seem to stop you from going through with it.”

It hadn’t. Before you even got to the courthouse, word had spread and one of the cheer moms who worked there had tried to offer you some unsolicited advice: don’t do it.

You did it.

“There ain’t nothing ‘bout you two that’s been conventional. Always got me rubbing my scalp.”

You giggle, biting your lip to try to stop yourself but you know Wayne meant to make you laugh, tried to ease you with humor he rarely expressed. For some reason, the jokes about him balding greatly amused you.

“Are you mad? That I’m pregnant?”

“No,” he shakes his head, gruffly clearing his throat. Doesn’t do much, his voice is always raspy. “Takes two to get in a spot like that. I didn’t see it coming, that’s for sure. But like I said, you two ain’t ever been conventional. Glad to see you’re following the order of things, ‘least. I’ll be honest with you, it’s always been a little hard to picture where Eddie would end up, what he’d be doing in life. Other than playing that loud music and going to those damn noisy shows. Made me a little nervous with those girls I knew he brought around, didn’t ever meet none of them but I knew. If it had been then, I’d probably have been more scared. ‘Specially if he felt like he had to hide ‘em. Or if they had to hide him.”

Wayne leans further back into the chair, making the stiff thing look as comfortable as a recliner.

“It’s different with you. We had this conversation before. You remember?” You think you know what he’s about to bring up, so you nod.

“Mhm. You’re about how old Penny was when she had Eddie. Maybe a little younger. You ain’t married to an asshole, either. For the most part.”

You laugh again and point out, “I thought Penny never married Otis.”

Otis is Eddie’s dad. The older brother (by 10 years) of Wayne’s who swooped in and stole his best friend from him, introducing the much younger girl to a life of a hardcore drug you’d never touch and one Eddie would make sure he never had any part of: meth.

Wayne had told you she’d gotten clean when she found out she was pregnant with Eddie and stayed that way, for him. You know that’s when he fell in love with her. Sadly, their story would never involve romance. They were kept apart by Otis, distance and themselves, neither one of them speaking up when she’d returned to Hawkins with Eddie, unwilling to have him live in a meth lab. In a cruel ironic twist, she’d ended up dying of an overdose not much longer after her return; she’d been struggling to sleep with everything going on and unknowingly mixed two over the counter sleeping pills that shut her system down. She’d stayed clean only to die because she wanted a good night's sleep so she could take care of her son. Eddie had been forced by the system to live with his father, only being allowed to return to Wayne—with a shaved head when traces of the drug were found in his hair—after his father’s lab was busted.

“She didn’t,” Wayne agrees, that far off look in his eye when he recounts his younger days to you. “But he wasn’t exactly the type of man any woman would want to marry. You got lucky with Eddie, he ain’t nothing like Otis.”

You hum in agreement, mind flooding with thoughts of soft curls and even softer brown eyes. You know Wayne loves Eddie on his own and wouldn’t ever treat him differently, but you can’t help but be thankful—for Wayne—that Eddie is an almost exact replica of his mom, appearance wise. For both of them, actually. Eddie hates his father and you know he’d hate himself if he looked in the mirror and saw any resemblance.

“You got your head on right.” You snap out of your thoughts at the comment, surprised.

“Huh?”

“You might be young, but you sure ain’t stupid. I may not know everything that went on with you, but I know you saved yourself from it. You and Eddie been doing an awful lot of that your whole lives, ‘least you get to do it together now. I know you love Eddie, and I know you love that baby. So don’t you dare say you made a mistake. Would I have liked for you to wait? Sure. Hell, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have minded waiting either. Unless—was this…?”

“No! No! It wasn’t planned at all!” You don’t mention that you and Eddie hadn’t been using protection, just blindly trusting your birth control. He doesn’t need to know that.

Wayne sighs in relief. “See? You ain’t stupid.” Debatable. “And even if it was, I trust that you know what you’re doing. ‘S the reason I let you two live in that trailer alone.”

You smirk, happy to have the opportunity to chime in.

“Are you sure it’s not because of Ms. Maple?” You wiggle your eyebrows, not so discreetly nodding your head to the trailer behind you and the occupant you’re sure is inside.

You laugh as Wayne raises his eyes at the awning.

“Lord,” he mutters, with fake annoyance. He’ll tell you all about Penny but he won’t say a thing about Maude Maple. You suspect it’s because he feels like he’s betraying Penny in some way, even though they were never involved. Munson men are loyal.

“Is that what you came over here to pester me about? Or are we gonna keep this talk serious?”

“No,” You pout, curling your legs up to your chest. “I just—I didn’t know how to tell you. Kind of forgot we have to tell people actually, and when Eddie mentioned that he’d brought it up in a chat─”

You’re cut off when Wayne booms out a laugh, surprising you considering you’d rarely heard him laugh hard.

He’s almost snickering when he calms down, “Is that what he told you? That boy called me up and asked if we could talk. Figured it could only mean he’d gotten you pregnant, considering he already eloped with you. He was shaking in his shoes the entire time he was over, he didn’t just bring it up in a run-in.”

Your mouth drops open, eyes squinting as you think about how you’re gonna chastise Eddie as soon as you get back to the trailer. That jerk! He made it seem like it was just something that came up in conversation, not something that he’d set aside time to talk to Wayne about!

Another half of you wanted to kiss him silly for taking it seriously and having a meaningful conversation with his father figure about becoming a father.

“No wonder you were so well prepared.”

“That didn’t have nothing to do with it. Like I said, I figured you were. Not just ‘cause he wanted to have a talk, it may not be obvious to the two of you since you see each other every day, but you’re filling out a little more.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, though there’s no animosity to it. You know he’s not implying you’re gaining weight, he’s saying you’re showing.

“Winter layers can’t hide it.”

Your mouth drops open and closed, gaze darting from what you thought was your normal looking stomach to Wayne and back again.

“You’re good!” You marvel, baffled at how observant and damn near omnipresent Wayne Munson is.

Wayne looks pleased with your statement, a small smile on his face. “I know. Eddie says it’s a girl. What color clothes should I be buying my grandbaby? You got any names picked out?”

You pull your hand out of your pocket to nervously bite at your thumb. Ever since you’d accepted the fact that you were gonna be a mom (still so fucking weird), to a girl, there was only one name bouncing around in your head. You hadn’t even shared the idea with Eddie yet.

“I really like ‘Penny’.”

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alexanderlightweight · 11 months

Note

Maybe more of the cider verse.

this is a scene from before they're married or the sequel. it happens back when jace and izzy first return and how magnus influences alec even on the seemingly small things that end up really changing alec's mindset overall

hope you enjoy! happy to be back to writing

<3 lumine

It’s half past three in the morning and while Alec normally doesn’t sleep till at least eight or nine, he feels dead on his feet.

His muscles are sore and heavy, every unnecessary movement an ache that he can’t afford and he closes his eyes just a minute to get his thoughts under way.

It was stupid to spar with both Izzy and Jace before going on a double patrol, but Alec hadn’t really had a choice.

Sacrifices have to be made for progress to happen and while Alec’s gotten better at delegating things, welcoming Jace and Izzy back from Idris — especially with a mountain of changes they both hate — well, something has to give.

As usual when it comes to his siblings, any price to be paid comes from Alec.

Of course it won’t remain that way for long, but Alec understands that some changes have to be slower than others and thankfully, Magnus understands that as well.

Except even in this, not all things remain the exact same.

Alec isn’t heading back to the Institute to slump wearily behind his desk and trudge through hours of paperwork. Instead he’s on his way to Magnus’, knowing that before he gets anywhere near the tablet he’s left there, he’ll be led to a bath first.

Magnus will insist on taking care of him.

Spoiling him really.

No matter how much Alec insists that just the bath is enough — that Magnus doesn’t need to waste potions on him — Magnus won’t be swayed.

So, despite the fact that Alec knows Magnus can just summon it for them, Alec stops at a little fae run cafe. One that never closes and that Alec doesn’t need to worry about glamours to visit.

They’re used to him by now and Alec is once again grateful to have been introduced to these hidden places of the shadowworld. It takes some time for them to grow accustomed to his continued presence, but for Alec — whose never been curious or called to by mundane spaces — its a relief.

While there is nothing wrong with mundane places, the logistics of going to one require preparation. Here, Alec can even just text an order and know that even if it takes him longer than it should, the drinks will never go cold.

He grabs them both and nods, knowing that his account is prepaid to a certain degree — as they accept ingredients rather than money — before leaving.

There is no talking, no anything but getting the drinks and leaving and while shadowhunter instincts warn him to drink something made by a fae, Alec knows better than to let it take over now.

This is an exchange.

A proper one and no fae would risk the ramifications of being so widely known and going back on their word.

The cider tastes hot like Magnus’ magic when he summons flames to contain demons and fresh. Like he’s sipping the drink from the vein of a sun-warmed apple.

The spices linger on his tongue and the back of his throat with a flare of heat and then he’s at Magnus’ door. Only a few sips and it was enough of a distraction that he can let himself relax.

Even his aching muscles can’t stop how his lips curl into an adoring smile and, as the door opens and his eyes meets a warm, golden gaze… Alec is home.

Even if he doesn’t quite know how to admit it yet.

Magnus greets him with a kiss, tasting the cider on his lips and tongue and giving him a soft smile before pulling him through the doorway and into the room.

The wards click into place behind and around him. Alec can feel them, pressing against him and he lets himself lean against the sturdy wood of the door as Magnus looks him over.

“Bath first, then some food.” Magnus murmurs, snapping his fingers even as he takes a sip from his cup. “No arguments this time, darling?”

Alec shakes his head, frankly too tired and too in love to do anything else.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #a choiceless hope #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #shadowhunters au

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kit-williams · 7 months

Text

Stealing Clothes

Male Lead(s): Harram, Roland, & Tulio Female Lead(s): Ori, Bäckerin, & Psychi Universe/AU: Warhammer 40k/Yandere Space Marines Canon Status: Perhaps I'm unsure but I won't say no

Harram

His ear twitched at the winding up cry coming from the other room. The sigh from the small woman beside him as he could feel her moving and his own eyes opened up as she slipped out of the room. He could hear Ori coo at Farum, baby talking him as he was most likely crying his large tears. Harram looked at his clock and knew he had a couple more hours of sleep. He gave up an hour of sleep for something far more fun. He closed his eyes just waiting for Ori to crawl back into bed.

"Sorry for waking you up." She muttered tiredly.

He softly gawffed at that sentiment as he waited for her to return to her spot next to him. "I can hear you scoop formula out of the can from here. I've also slept through an artillery strike. I'll live." He said opening his eyes and let out an appreciative coo.

She was in one of his shirts as it went down to her knees and how it laid on her person fully exposed one of her shoulders as she rubbed her eye slipping off the quick to put on prosthetic verses the nice limb he crafted for her. She laid back in the bed ready to drift back off and while he appreciated her being in his shirt... Harram pulled and tugged at the dirty shirt, "Off; you'll be warmer skin to skin." He crooned before going in for a kiss.

Roland

He walks back to his room after a month long assignment on a front. Roland feels aches mainly between his ears as he wants to sleep for a good week before he can return to even thinking about his Bäckerin and loving her properly. He walked into their living space and he was confused for a moment as to where she was but took a look at the clock and it was the middle of her sleeping time.

Roland lumbered to his bed and paused as he looked at the sight right there. His darling Bäckerin wrapped around his pillow... on his side of the bed... and in his shirt. He tilts his head surprised at this though also the fact that the shirt that would probably go to her knees has risen up to her waist. He can't resist himself...

Bäckerin's eyes flutter open as she feels something on her thigh and looks down at the nearly black eyes that dart to meet her own as she feels him pull his lips away from her thigh. "Welcome back Roland." Is all she says before he returns to pressing kisses into her flesh and enjoying the feeling of her soft skin against his face.

Tulio

Psychi laughed as the two of them finally made it to the covering of the villa. She was soaked to the bone again her hair was falling down her back as she shivered at the way the soft fabric clung to her form. She looked over to Tulio and was surprised that he was missing. "Tulio?" She called out heading inside and seeing a blue tunic laid out for her.

Tulio was trying to think of a reason why he would have womens clothes and why it wasn't weird that they were her size as he walked out holding a pair. "Here I-" his voice died in his throat as he had left a shirt on a lounge chair and he could see how his Psychi was wearing it. Of course she had to sinch the waist with a cord to tie it close to her form.

His green eyes looking at her blushing face, "I only realized too late that this wasn't meant for me... I could take it off."

"NO!" He said a bit too loudly watching her jump and he winced as he put the clothes behind his back, "Sorry I just don't have anything for you and rather you not catch a cold." He said putting the clothes further behind him watching her just casually wear his shirt like a tunic. His green eyes darting to her legs as it only goes down to her knees and as she sits he watches it how it rides- Tulio looks away with a blush. "I'll go get you a towel and a warm drink."

"Lord Tu-" Psychi starts but he's already gone by the time she looks over and just sighs... he can be so funny at times.

Fluffuary Tag list: @bispecsual @the-californicationist @egrets-not-regrets @libraryshadow @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

#warhammer 40k #fluffuary #fluffuary2024 #yandere space marines #space marines #yandere #OC: Roland #OC: Tulio #OC: Harram #x reader #space marine x reader #ultramarine #black templar #iron warrior

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saphirered · 11 months

Note

for the prompts candlelight fluff with helion??

Ask and you shall receive! Tooth rotting fluff. 😘

Unlike the season courts Night, Dawn and Day adhere to the rules of this world. They do not remain a constant. As such the nights grow longer and the days colder. The rays of the sun become rarer and more distant. The radiant heat does little to warm cold bodies and when the light fades, what more is there to illuminate the darkness? Thousands of lanterns light the paths most often traversed. Candles litter the hallways and chandeliers in the homes and palaces casting that warm golden glow. Despite what Prythian might expect, the people of Day welcome the colder days. Where the sun is lacking they bring warmth of their own. Their High Lord is no different. He finds when the cold settles within him, when his glow is less bright, there you are, like the will o’wisps guiding the lost back where they belong.

Even now, Helion has been hitting the books from dawn to dusk, until the words dance before his eyes and he can see no more the scribbles of ancient texts. The keepers of the palace have begun their journey, replacing the old lanterns and candles, and lighting those still usable. He rubs his eyes, pushes back from the stacks he collected and rises. His back hurts, his neck too and his head rings with a dull pounding. He hears your warning echo through his head. You’d told him to move every once in a while, to get up and put the books aside. Instead of heeding that warning he had binge-read what he could and couldn’t remember when he last got up from that chair since dawn. You’d give him hell for it. Helion missed your company and he supposes even your scorn would be a relief at this point. He’ll bear it. Not that you’ll be mad at him, nor will you remain upset. You’ll be more likely to look at him with a hint of exasperation. Nothing a kiss can’t fix.

Wandering among the familiar halls is but a haze, his mind has floated off somewhere far beyond and he is but a ghost stuck in the same routine until that familiar door comes within sight. No light bleeds from under the crack. No sound emits from beyond that carved mahogany. It’s just dark, light and lifeless. Still Helion wanders in, the door falling shut behind him. Was he not so familiar with this space the complete darkness might have had him tumble and fall over the furniture but this had become a habit, was it not for his exhaustion or whenever you had yourself occupied with his lips, your fingers in his hair and your legs wrapped around his waist as he held you. He’d become quiet used to navigate the space without the need for sight. This time it was not your glorious being that required him to use that memory. This time Helion finds himself without the energy to make it to the bedroom and instead unceremoniously allows himself to drape over the couch, making himself comfortable among the pillows as much as possible. He lets the darkness carry him off and dreamless sleep enter his soul for some rest at last.

You were late. You got carried away in some ongoings and plannings for the upcoming months, dealing with correspondence and ambassadors who did not so much adjust to your schedules it seemed but still you handled yourself graciously. You’re tired and glad to finally be on your way home. If anything, you don’t know how he does it. Helion doesn’t know you took on more of the tasks set out for him but you’d seen him struggle between helping his friends and running his court. You might not be as well-versed in the ways of healing or be able to pick the exact book you need off of any shelf within those endless libraries, but you know you can put up with people and so you did, for his sake. He’d been so engulfed in his research he hadn’t even noticed the passage of time, let alone the seemingly endless list of responsibilities suddenly needing less attention. You’re glad for it.

It is days like these where you follow the lanterns until you enter the palace. The staff and residents have long since lit the candles that line the halls creating the every lasting golden glow you’re used to, now even more prominent in the darkness of night. In a way it reminded you of the muted glow you’d woken up to on many occasions, when that power of Day bled through the restraint its wielder kept. It never failed to bring a smile to your face. You know at times he’d do it on purpose if only to see that very smile and it had simply remained an unspoken truth.

You approach the doors you’re all too familiar with but do not see that golden glow from within. Instead you see a basket of candles set out at the door, some wicks too. You shake your head to no one in particular as you pick up the basket and are met with darkness. You have the mind to light one of the candlesticks from one of the flames outside, that very source of light being the only one to illuminate your path. You don’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary and thus simply make your way through. Setting the basket on the side table the glow of that singular candle illuminates the fae shape on the couch, the peaceful features and gentle rise and fall of the chest.

Helion is fast asleep. You kneel down to brush some hair from his face and take the blanket from the back of the couch to gently drape it over him. Quietly you make your way around to the other side of the room and light the candles already set out and replace the burned out ones, collecting the wax remnants in the assigned bowl. Slowly but surely the room is cast in that same golden glow you’re used to. The cold air begins to grow warmer. Every once in a while you’ll cast a glance over your shoulder to still see the High Lord fast asleep. You hum to yourself as you move through the room until your task is complete.

A gentle melody guides him back to consciousness. No more does he feel that night cold within. Even behind closed eyes Helion notes the light that was not there before. The air feels different, more alive and more welcoming. The smell of melting wax and firewood enters his senses. With a satisfied sigh he opens his eyes. Your steps are featherlight as you illuminate the path you take, candles sparking to life in your wake. When you turn and see him, eyes as golden as the glow around you smile and Helion melts inside. You set the last candles. Alight like a halo behind you, like a truly angelic being you close into him as he rises onto his elbows. You catch onto his slight wince as he rises.

“What did I tell you about reading for too long like that?” You scorn playfully.

“I will better heed your warning next time, my love.” He all but grumbles, sleep still heavy on his voice. You chuckle as he sits up fully and you sit next to him letting your fingers lace with his as a mere force of habit. He brings it to his lips and kisses your hand watching the flush spread through your cheeks. Beautiful.

“Promising words yet no true promise I hear.” You retort. He looks at you through his lashes in a way that admits guilt. “Move over. Turn your back to me.” You order. Helion raises an eyebrow you just roll your eyes. He does as he’s told either way. You have half the mind to mutter ‘good boy’ but keep your comment to yourself lest this turns a certain way before you get to do what you intend to do.

“While I’d prefer to see your face, I’m curious to see-“ His words are cut off by his own moan when your skilful fingers work the muscles of his back, starting right between his shoulder blades. Damn does it feel good. He can feel the tension release as you go, working down his spine, across his shoulders and up the back go his neck into his hairline where you hit just the right spot that makes him feel lightheaded.

“Please don’t stop.” Helion breathes when your hands pull away.

“Not so opposed now, are you?” He can hear the smile and satisfaction in your words. The candles dance in his vision, their warmth and light pulsing with his own and it takes him a second to realise he is glowing too. When he goes to snuff the flame within him you stop him.

“Opposed to your touch? Never.” He muses with a deep sigh. You keep working, untangling every muscle that burned throughout the day, washing ease and calm over him until his shoulders slump and head hangs lower. Only then do you stop. He makes a sound of disappointment but is quickly sussed when you get up from your spot and push him back among the pillows on the couch. Your hand on his shoulder, he takes your wrist.

“Now rest a little while longer.” You go to step away but he keeps his hold just light enough to make it noticeable. With a gentle pull, You sit on his lap and feel his fingers dance up and down your spine. You’re not opposed to his advances, in fact you welcome them but you do grumble when you bring your lips to meet his, when his arms wrap around your waist and hold you close until you’re laying on top of him. Even when the kiss ends and he tucks your head beneath his chin, where you can hear the ease of his heartbeat, when you melt into his warmth, he glows like the candles and so do you.

#helion x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #helion x you #helion spell cleaver #helion acotar #high lord helion #a court of thorns and roses #sjmaas #sjm fic #sjm fanfic

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renegade-skywalker · 6 months

Text

Experiments in Idle Pleasures

Summary:

Merit pays Gale a visit in his study with the intention of surprising him with dinner but ends up providing a welcome distraction instead. Set post-game.

Word Count: 4,480

Rating: E

Notes:

Not required reading but I mention a pair of enchanted rings here from my other fic, A Soft Proposal, which this acts as a bit of an unofficial but spicy sequel to, that provides a little more backstory on how I imagine the rings to work, though you can parse out how they function if you only read this one anyway ;)

~~~

It was the first time in weeks Merit found herself in the throes of possession.

Her fingers spirited over her lyre, an unwritten song summoned unbidden from her fingertips as if she’d known its melody already, intimately familiar with its every intonation. Pen to parchment could hardly keep up. Her palms were smudged with ink as she committed each verse to paper and hoped her handwriting accurately translated every bit of inspired scrawl.

It came in parts.

First was the melody, its inherent theme emerging as every note was simultaneously played as if just-discovered yet also intimately-known. And then came the verses, hymnals and mismatched bits of poetry inherent to the song itself but not yet stitched together in the proper order, its words needing finessing, its structure needing bolstering, its overarching story needing a careful hand and even more fine-tuned ear.

She thought it had taken all afternoon, but before she knew it the room had grown dark and the warm sea breeze from the open window had grown cold. At first Merit thought night had crept up on her, midnight upon her when she was only expecting it to be four o’clock at the latest. But after glancing at the device on the far side of the room she realized it wasn’t quite as late but also not nearly as early. It was almost nine.

Papers scrawled with notes and semblances of song scattered about the room in the oncoming gale from outside, rain beginning to patter at the windowpane.

Gale, her mind echoed, thinking of the rain but also of her love, still tucked away in his study upstairs. Gale.

Similarly enraptured by his own life’s work, it appeared that the time had slipped Gale’s mind as well, though it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Merit hadn’t gotten so lost in a song in ages and she was glad to find Gale so buried in work that he no longer found himself pacing in whatever room she happened to be in, biting a nail and running a nervous hand through his hair as he recounted every possible minute misfortune that might befall his new tenure at Blackstaff Academy, his anxiety from so long a time away mostly attributed to his desire for his every lecture to be absolutely perfect and without pause, an ease Merit soothed would come with practice - not unlike her singing and songwriting.

Merit continued scrambling about the room collecting her things as she thought of him. The room was one Gale set aside to have her design entirely as she wished upon moving back to Waterdeep. He’d taken a thoughtful approach to her moving in with him, proposing that she have some say in the entire tower’s decor and overall appearance since it would now be a place they shared (with Tara’s input as well, of course), but this room was hers and hers alone.

It once housed my very impressive, though perhaps rather hoardsome, collection of Weave-touched objects, Gale had recounted with a wan smile upon showing it to her for the first time, barren save for the dust motes floating in the idle shafts of sunlight that filtered through the window. It would bring me nothing but joy for it to be entirely yours now, to do with as you wish. This room was empty long before my rather timely abduction, so perhaps by some serendipitous twist of fate this space was always meant to be yours.

Merit smiled at the memory, the warmth of it sating her as she closed the windows against the encroaching storm. The room still smelled of salt air as she closed the panes against the suddenly insistent rain, relishing in the sound and the smell of it as the petrichor intensified from the balcony just outside. Thinking the better of it, Merit left one pane ajar if only to let the scent in before she finally left the room and descended to the kitchens.

Not her usual domain other than on quiet mornings when sleep failed her and the dream of baking bread filled in her dreamless gaps, Merit tiptoed her way around the space as if trespassing, which it very much felt like. Though she knew the larder by heart, its every nook and cranny known to her at this point, she dared not disrupt the unspoken spell of a system Gale had placed upon the space - which was to say there wasn’t any actual spell placed on it, only his incredibly meticulous organizational preference insisted on every facet of the room and its contents. So instead of altering anything, she spied the soup Gale had prepared in the cauldron above the hearth the day before, still covered, smiling at its remaining wealth before deciding to heat it up and warm a few rolls of her own sourdough along with it before finally retreating upstairs with a generous slab of butter and a honeyed cup of tea to bring it all together.

Merit rapped gently at Gale’s study door, counting to ten before knocking again and almost instantly hearing a rushed but quiet Come in, come in.

He often did this. He’d hear the door but doubt himself as he kept on reading or writing, awaiting a rejoining rap at the wood before answering as if never quite believing his own senses when drawn so deeply into his work. Upon his invitation, Merit nudged the door open with her foot and slid inside with the serving tray as leverage, careful not to tip anything over as she finally slipped inside. She set the tray on the nearest surface clear of clutter, which was an endeavor in and of itself, and took it upon herself to light a few more candles as she bit back a knowing smile, eyeing Gale’s already squinting eyes in the scant light as he scribbled in one book whilst having his nose pressed in another.

“I made dinner,” she proffered lightly. "Well, you did, technically. Yesterday."

Gale mumbled something indecipherable as he wrote some more, discerning his notes before reconsidering his source material, his bespectacled eyes looking from one set of words to the other twice over before eventually acknowledging Merit.

“Dinner?” he asked absently, “ But it’s only-”

His eyes finally glanced sideward out his study room window, realizing that what he had presumed to be afternoon was now already well past night.

“Huh,” was all he said as Merit took the bowl from her serving platter and placed it in his unsuspecting but welcome hands.

“This is the soup you made yesterday,” Merit said, at first referring to the bowl’s contents before also passing him the bread and butter, “It’s thickened into a bit of a stew over the hearth so I warmed this to go along with it.”

Gale looked dumbfounded at both the bowl and the bread before looking up imploringly at Merit who hung over his shoulder like a parrot atop a pirate, only instead of echoing his every command her only intention was to make sure he began eating.

“You’re starving,” she insisted as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Trust me.”

Gale laughed a hollow, tired laugh as she pressed her lips to his temple.

“Thank you,” he said, a begrudging resignation lacing his voice though not out of indignance but instead of appreciation, forever a man too proud to say he’d lost track of the time but forever indebted to a woman intent on feeding him anyway. To think of how many nights Gale went without a proper meal despite his inherent skill whenever Tara wasn’t around to insist otherwise or at least remind him of the time almost made Merit sick with a retroactive worry. “Truly.”

“Make no mention of it,” Merit said, insistent, “Just-”

But before she could finish her thought, Gale raised a hand and reached for her lowering head, bringing her face back towards his as she leaned over him so he could kiss her again but properly this time.

Their mouths inverse, Gale pressed an eager kiss to Merit’s still half-smiling mouth, this time parting her lips with an eager tongue. Allowing him passage, Merit melted against him though she had no idea what possessed him. Not that she minded either way.

Merit finally pulled out of their kiss if only because the arch of her neck was starting to ache, though she would gladly go on kissing Gale forever despite it.

“I don’t want to distract you,” she said in a whisper, her lips brushing against his. “But-”

Before she could finish, Gale deposited his dinner atop the desk as he twisted in his chair and grabbed her gently but firmly by the waist, his hands nearly clawing at the fabric there as he pulled Merit onto his lap.

“What if I could use a good distraction?” he asked in a low husky voice, his eyes mischievous over the rim of his glasses. “Plus, you’re too good to me. I need to return the favor.”

“It was the least I could do,” Merit obliged as she slipped her arms around Gale’s neck, biting down on her bottom lip at the sight of him, always fond of how he looked in glasses. “You really ought to consider raising your bar a little.”

Gale pressed a kiss to her temple, lingering there as he relished in the scent of her.

“You’ve raised the bar plenty,” he said before nuzzling against her head.

Merit softened beneath his touch, leaning her head further against his as she hummed pleasantly under her breath.

“What are you working on?” she asked in a half-whisper. “Going well, I hope?”

Gale sighed into a smile against her cheek, making Merit feel warm all over.

“Exceedingly well, in fact, even though I’ve hit a bit of a wall,” Gale admitted into her hair. “I’m not surprised time eluded me so completely.”

Thankfully, the windows in Gale’s study were already shut against the coming storm though not out of any abundance of caution and instead because there were far too many precarious piles of books stacked in front of the panes to open them properly. Merit would have suggested some spring cleaning if she knew that the space hadn’t also doubled as a practice ground for finessing spells as well, the darkness sometimes aiding Gale’s often intense focus and need for absolute precision.

“I don’t want to take away from your work, though,” she protested in earnest, their heads still resting together, Merit’s fingers now absently caressing the back of Gale’s neck. “It’s taken a while for you to get back into the swing of things.”

Gale said nothing, instead absently puckering his lips against her forehead in a half-hearted kiss, his mind clearly elsewhere. His fingers grasped more despairingly at her dress, inching the fabric up ever so slightly.

“I wrote a song today,” she said softly against his skin. “If you’d like to hear it”

“Always,” he said, one of his hands winding up her back until his fingers met skin. “I love hearing you sing.”

Merit shivered into the ease of his touch and settled there, the very state of her teetering on the border of comfort and arousal. Her skin grew warm as she snaked one hand gently down Gale’s back, slipping beneath the open collar of his shirt, while the other threaded through his hair.

“Why do I have a feeling you have something else in mind, though?” Merit asked, one hand softly raking at Gale’s scalp, relishing in how he held her closer as if in immediate response to her hungry grasping.

“Because I might,” Gale admitted, this time placing a kiss at the base of her ear, nestling his nose in her hair afterward. “You know, for science.”

“Hm,” Merit considered in earnest. Her song had been about idle pleasures, small saccharine moments mounting to a greater hunger, stolen perhaps but all the more sweet for their idle if not indulgent appetites. Perhaps her inspiration had been more divinely inspired than initially intended… “I’m of a mind to indulge your scientific inclinations, if that’s where your ever so diligent research has led you this evening.”

Merit couldn’t help but think of the first time they kissed, not to mention the few times after. Gale had kept her questing heart at bay at the tiefling party by warning her of his not-yet-quelled orb’s potential for destruction, its ire possibly inspired by whatever errant excitement might flow through him at any given moment, but by the end of the night, in part to Merit’s insistence as well as a good deal of wine, Gale had given into his idle if not ill-advised desire to kiss her, inspired no doubt by the vision she’d shared of the very same through the Weave. The vision come true, and both of them intact in the aftermath, Merit had raised a timid hand to Gale’s chest, her fingers tracing his scar as she wondered at the implications.

In my experience, the best cure for doubt is study and experimentation , he’d uttered against her lips, the hunger for another kiss clear in the way he looked at her and held her to him, as if the moment may very well slip through their fingers and be lost forever. And an experiment must be repeated at least thrice in order to ensure accuracy, of course. If you did want to repeat it thrice, I can certainly make myself available.

“It would only be prudent,” Gale argued, kissing her neck now. Merit sighed and melted against him.

“Well, if it’s for the greater good,” Merit played along. “We might as well.”

“Might as well,” he echoed.

Gale sowed kisses up her neck, across her jaw, and up over her awaiting chin before kissing Merit square on the mouth, pausing there as if savoring the taste of her. Gale’s hands met again at Merit’s waist and continued their earlier work of gathering the fabric of her dress, only stopping this time once the hem reached precariously over the curve of her thighs. One hand descended, planting itself firmly between her legs and paused as Gale kissed Merit with an earnest and hungry mouth, hours worth of studying and meticulous calculation quickly recalibrating so he might best have Merit in whatever way his imagination was already conjuring up in his mind’s ravenous eye.

Without instruction, Merit swung one leg around Gale’s torso so she straddled him proper. The feel of him between her legs sated an inner keening she knew not of until the very moment it was satisfied, rolling her hips against his in a way that made her want him even more. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, his want against her want. None of this was part of her plan, intent only on feeding him dinner but suddenly finding herself indulging him in dessert first instead.

“Gale, I-” she said before Gale wrapped her in another kiss, though no further argument followed.

Gale’s hand remained poised at the warmth between her legs, running his fingers along the stretch of linen that separated him from the strength of her want for him. Merit eased herself against his touch just as his other hand rose to her chest, pulling precariously at the neckline of her dress until her breasts were exposed completely. He traced the outline of her before running a careful thumb over the curve of her, her nipple growing hard against his touch as well as the open air.

“No fair,” she argued, tugging at his shirt. Before reaching for the hem of his shirt, Gale reached for his glasses but Merit stayed his hand.

“The glasses stay on,” she urged into a kiss before relinquishing, pulling away just far enough for Gale to remove his tunic, and to her surprise, sensing his desire not just against her but thrumming through her veins in kind. Glimpses of various states of undress, hungry mouths slaked but wanting more, skin warm and sweatslick, all lanced through her mind’s eye courtesy of the ring Gale had gifted Merit in asking for her hand along with the full-bodied impulse to hold her closer. Mirror image cravings laced with longing yearned out of her in return, Merit’s own wishes bestowing Gale with a parallel idea of how the evening might progress if they let dinner remain a delicious afterthought. “I’ll indulge your experiment if you indulge me with this.”

“But you’re blurry,” Gale argued weakly into another kiss as Merit’s hands began their intrepid exploration of his now bare chest, enticingly raking her nails with a gentle sweep over the pleasing shape of him: the base of his now unscarred neck, the sloping edge of his collarbone, and the soft swathes of curled hair that spanned the sinew of his muscles tensing beneath her touch. A sigh rich with yearning escaped Gale’s throat.

Merit kissed Gale still as she mentally shared her image of him, the thought filled to the brim with want as she took in the sight of him between every breath, that same desire inspiring every kiss that followed. Gale relented, humming into her kiss and smiling against her still-hungry mouth as he relished in her unending ache for him, an ache that echoed sweetly within him and yearned to be sated.

“Perhaps I can manage,” he whispered in eventual surrender, his lips brushing against hers before he pulled back slightly from Merit’s seeking mouth, smiling when he saw the disappointment on her face. Or at least guessed it from what he could make out through his glasses. “If it keeps you feeling like this.”

With that, Gale’s touch circled with practiced pause over the center of her, the fabric betraying Merit’s inexplicable craving, his other hand tracing a delicate arc over the exposed curve of her in a way that made Merit shiver, her breath quickening. Merit could only nod at him in quiet request for more, her eyes heavy-lidded with a covetous need for Gale to be closer yet cursed with a warring desire for him to keep teasing the very want out of her.

He deserved this, knowing just how much and how badly she wanted him. As much as Merit wanted to stop what she was doing and please him until Gale became so utterly undone that he hardly knew his own name, she wanted him to know this. To feel this. Her pining for him was more than a physical need but a spiritual indulgence, a pleasure made perfect only because of the depth of her love for him, fueled exponentially so by his matching devotion to her.

Their minds married beyond the mere symbolic, their shared desires and errant pleasures flowing freely through the joined rings at their fingers, informing their every touch, each caress, imbuing every stolen kiss with something both known and yet to be discovered.

Half imagined yet experienced in full, Merit and Gale shared in a wealth of thought and sensation, their shared rapture bridging the gap between real and imagined as Gale’s hand crept carefully yet delectably beneath the last slip fabric that separated them physically, gratifying Merit’s mental pleasures by appeasing her basest need.

“Right there,” she found herself sighing against him, though nothing at all needed to be said, her hips magnetized against the deliberate rhythm of Gale’s touch as he delved deeper. “Just like that, yes.”

A wave of exalted elation flooded Merit’s mind as she kissed him, a gift from Gale as he brimmed with the knowledge of her desire, relishing in the wetness of her want for him and yearned for more of it as he pressed her every pleasure point with an eager yet craving effort. As if in response, Merit conjured an image with the express purpose of it being shared between them, a prediction as well as a wish - Gale overcome with a demanding necessity to be inside her, half-clothed yet too impatient to carry her to bed - easing herself against his venturesome fingers in a way that both abated her growing need of him yet fed it just the same.

Gale panted deliciously into Merit’s each and every kiss, before eventually grunting pleasurably against her ear, whispering, “You know me so well - too well.”

Merit bit back a self-satisfied smile at the sound of his confession, melting against his fingers as well as the warmth of his breath on her neck.

“What if we try something else first?” Merit ventured, a smirk threatening to overcome her expression as the thought occurred to her, mouthwatering in its deviousness. Perhaps it was cruel of her to keep this from him, but in the spirit of science she thought it worth a try as she lowered one hand down to the undeniable bulge at the inseam of Gale’s trousers to ease his want out for her to please while she continued to ride his fervent hand.

Gale couldn’t speak, suddenly overcome with a whole other world of want for her as his unspoken gratification at Merit’s similarly scientifically inclined mind met his keening physical craving for her, clear in the glazed way he looked at her now as well as in the way he eased his hardness into the palm of her hand, gyrating against her anticipating touch. Merit smiled, pleased with herself, as she sighed in kind and tried to kiss Gale again, their beings brimming with several universes of want and need threatening to converge precariously into one.

Gale let out a low groan against Merit’s mouth as she touched him, sighing against his hand in kind with another greedy roll of her hips. She ran her fingers lightly along the warmth of his shaft, smiling into their kiss when she felt him tremble at her touch, before closing her palm around the pleasing girth of him. And then she conjured the image again: of Gale inside her, thrusting the wealth of his want inside her again and again with a careening urge that walked the line of utter necessity yet drove dangerously into ravenous indulgence, bordering on excess. She grew wetter at the thought just as Gale grew harder, their respective hands thirsting to feel the others’ culminating rapture whilst desiring for the dream to be made real, simultaneously feeling as if it were in the reality of their shared minds’ eye.

Merit whimpered against Gale’s mouth, every part of her vibrating with excess longing that made her mind and her body feel like a live wire bristling with electricity. She communicated the feeling, receiving a similar sensation psychically in response, their mounting lust brimming dangerously close to completion until their shared cup runneth over - though that was also the entirety behind Merit’s deliciously devious plan.

She eased the cradle of her palm against him, pleased to feel Gale grow harder and harder beneath her careful caress. Gale’s mouth wilted against hers, at first an involuntary response to whatever she was doing to him, but then deliberately, his lips then kissing the length of her jaw until he met the spot at the base of her ear, eliciting an unbidden sigh from Merit’s throat. The shared fantasy continued, this time images pouring from Gale’s mind into Merit’s: his hands hooked beneath her legs, lifting her along with him as he stood from the chair though he remained pleasurably deep inside her, as he then unceremoniously swept his hand across his desk, disheveling his days’ work to lay her against its slanted edge and urge his keening need for her inside again and again, the feel of him sweet and syrupy as he pressed kiss after feverish kiss against her skin.

Merit grew unendingly wet around Gale’s ambitious fingers at the thought, the feel of him growing hot beneath her hungered touch. They panted, whimpering into each and every famished kiss as they each succumbed to the dream completely, collapsing against the other, laced in each others’ resulting cravings made real, endlessly warm in the waning aftermath of their shared climax.

It was quiet then, the air warm between them as they caught their shared breath, the memory of their fabricated fantasy hanging in the air along with the sweet reality of what transpired, still saccharine and endlessly abating, a promise of more to come. One experiment of many more.

“So,” Merit sighed, a wave of contentment falling over her every limb like a welcome shroud, a satisfied smile possessing her lips as easily as her earlier song had. “Do your results support or contradict your theory?”

“Hm,” Gale said as if both truthfully considering this whilst mischievously playing along, his gaze going soft as he took in the still half-clothed vision of her from over the rim of his spectacles. “You threw me for a bit of a loop there when you posed that unexpected hypothesis, though I must say that the outcome was far more in line with my initial suspicions than I hoped to expect.”

“Mhm,” Merit rejoined, running her hands over his chest again. “And? Final thoughts and conclusions?”

Gale succumbed to a soft smile, one that met his eyes and made Merit feel warm all over as he nudged her closer, resting his forehead against hers.

“Any time spent in your company far exceeds even the most ambitious of my expectations,” he said whispersoft before placing the gentlest of kisses to her unsuspecting lips, a wealth of affection lacing the beat of every second spent between them. “Though, I must admit, it did open up an entirely new train of thought, which… will require further study, of course.”

Merit bit her bottom lip as she hummed into a self-satisfied smile. She knew the experiment only started as a means of distraction, perhaps a welcome diversion that would eventually aid Gale’s tired mind in reaching whatever studious conclusion he had been aiming for in his work all day, only to find himself now possessed with the desire to explore the further implications of the rings he’d enchanted, intent on discovering just the lengths to which they could push its linked capacity to bridge their minds and their every imagined desire in between.

“Well, I’m available for any and all further experimentation, if need be,” Merit promised with another kiss, sweet and slow. Gale pulled her closer, savoring the taste of her. "Once you've finished dinner, that is."

Gale smiled, speaking softly into her kiss, "I’ll be sure to keep that in mind."

~~~

(More) Notes:

A bit of head canon backstory: I never have the heart to trigger Gale's pick-up line about experimenting thrice when you have to choose between him and another romanced party member, so in my head he says this line to Merit as they test the boundaries of their mounting affections during the course of the game. In my head, they've at least tried to kiss, or made some attempt, before the orb is quieted in Act 2, but as per their experiments they discover they can't go much further than that otherwise it starts to glow rather ominously… I plan on exploring that head canon in a later fic but figured I would at least explain my line of thinking here anyway.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale x oc #my writing #the brainrot is strong with this one

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spontaneousglitterbees · 1 year

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Trying to upload once a week on YT and I haven't even made the trackart, but I'm excited about this one if anyone knows where to find a higher quality off vocal please let me know

EDIT: Trackart and lyrics!

Part of the Evillious Chronicles by mothy(AkunoP) Referenced pricechecktranslations' transcript and octosan's translyrics UST by by NeeMiSo Cover, Mix, Thumbnail + Trackart, Translyrics by glitterbees

Notes!

I'd be remiss not to thank octosan for their translyric of "Madam Merry-Go-Round is she" in the chorus, which proceeded to get stuck in my head for several days straight until I made this.

I gave Alice the royal We both in reference to her position, Queen of Levianta, and the OSS novels.

This is also where I had a bit of fun with host/ess as in 'hosting a party' and host as in 'a whole host of people'. Happy coincidence!

Also given the novels and Alice's identity as MotC/Irina and variations therein: calling her a Clockwork gear seemed thematically and literally appropriate, like the figurine made to dance in a music box

Rather than noting how Alice's face is familiar, I leaned into the novels again (can you tell I just read Punishment and part of this is my processing it) with the way nobody has actually seen the queen's face in Quite Some Time. Until Gammon, anyway.

Alice's hands are certainly not pure by the end of Evillious, but technically time is transient here, making it impossible to know if this is facetious or not. Seemed apt. Plus holding a smile in your hands is just a dash of unreality that fits the vibe I think, as representation for the abstraction of interpersonal warmth and comfort

I'm still not positive just which "vow" Alice is talking about here, so I tried to leave it ambiguous

Final verse, same as the firt! Only with a few words mixed around, nodding to how on some level Alice is aware of her fate to repeat over. And over. And-

Where should we go next on our tour of Evillious?

Lyrics!

Welcome, all, to your new happy place! Pardon Us as We undo these chains binding you to one time and space.

Here's a tip from your Host: See the house brimming with ghosts! Give the ferris wheel a spin, don't be shy, tonight is yours so strap in.

But hey, if you find you need a break from the flurry of fun and games, our cold cradle will hold your weary frame….

Madam Merry Go Round are We, Ruling the park as the reigning queen. Madam Merry Go Round are We, always caught in the same machine.

From the top of the carousel you see in ever shifting Utopian glee…

Madam Merry Go Round are We, spinning through all the old worlds debris. Madam Merry Go Round are We. Nonetheless, We keep the same routine.

Round and round as it whirls fro and to, don't fret about a thing that you thought you knew!

So then if you want your wish to come true, I'm afraid you'll have to wait. So sit back, relax, and join in the queue.

What's that gleaming through the shade, but the famed Shadow Parade? They've been marching their whole lives to the beat of an end they've yet to find.

And as the clock strikes the midnight hour, see, desire for this in your power! It's just the role of your Hostess to oblige….

Madam Merry Go Round are We, Beautiful face hidden by a screen. Madam Merry Go Round are We, lost as a forgotten memory.

In her hands pure as driven snow, there she holds a smile warm and amiable.

Madam Merry Go Round are We. Even if you think your love is key, Madam Merry Go Round are We. Those fleeting feelings are all a dream.

As a vow made between two on both sides never lasted for long and was left behind….

Madam Merry Go Round are We, Ruling this land as the reigning queen. Madam Merry Go Round are We, Clockwork gear trapped in the machine.

At the top of the carousel you see, in ever rhyming Utopian glee,

Madam Merry Go Round are We. Spinning on through the new world's debris, Madam Merry Go Round are We. Every cycle the same routine.

Even if you have no way home, You should have known the only fault here's your own!

#ec #evillious #evillious chronicles #synthv #synthesizer v #vocaloid #solaria #synthv solaria

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wickdcreatures · 11 months

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𝕱𝖓𝖆𝖋 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖊 — 𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖒

* please note: this verse is both influenced by the games and the movie. I haven’t read the books and I don’t pretend to be an expert on the lore either, so i may get things wrong lmao sorry

FNAF VERSE PART 1: NIGHT SHIFTER.

Salem is twenty-one, living out of his car after he ran away from his abusive family. He has been desperately trying to get a job and an apartment so he can take in his kid brother Derrick, saving him from the abuse they both suffered by the hands of their cult-like family. With his family name in shambles after his father murdered his mother, and the horrible lies and slander the paternal side of his family spread about him, Salem was having no luck finding a job that would accept him, but that changes when he manages to land a job working as the night shift security guard at the old Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. He was aware of the old humors about the place before starting, and even though that maybe, given the fact he is sensitive to spirits, he might be able to suss out if the rumors were true or not in the first place. Once he realizes that the animatronics, in fact, have the souls of dead children inside, he tries his best to appease them in all the ways he knows how, but the child spirit inside Foxy is the only one that warms up to him in the slightest.

tldr; salem ran away from home and in attempts to afford an apartment for him and his kid brother, he gets a job at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria, tries to befriend the spirits of the kids that reside inside the animatronics. The boy that resides within Foxy is the only one who really warms up to him.

FNAF VERSE PART 2: WELCOME ABOARD.

It was a cold and rainy night — Salem’s kid brother Derrick slept outside in the car as Salem finished up his night shift. It was unusually quiet for a friday night, the animatronics staying on their stages, everything is eerily still, until Salem sees the silhouette of his brother on the monitors, accompanied by a yellow bunny he had never seen before. Salem rushed from his safe space inside the security office deeper into the pizzeria, right into the arms of Freddy himself. He hears the screams of his brother from the other room as he’s dragged to the spare parts room. He doesn’t live long after that, stuffed into one of the scrapped and moth eaten Foxy suits. His soul never left that suit, the mechanisms spring locks within. The pizzeria was sold, suits and costumes sold in all forms of disrepair. The stains were explained as the reminisce of pizza grease and machinery lubricant. One of the parts of Salem’s final resting place, a single gold tooth from the original, scrapped Foxy jaw, was uncovered and sold back to Fazbear Entertainment for use in building their newer, more glamorous robots. Glamrock Foxy was born, and inside is the soul of Salem, now hellbent to protect the children that wander the Mega Pizzaplex, especially those separated from their guardians.

tldr; Salem gets stuffed into an old Foxy suit on one of his shifts, and when the pizzeria closes his suit is plucked for parts and sold around until what remains of it is bought back by Fazbear Entertainment to use in the new Glamrock Foxy animatronic. Salem now possessed Glamrock Foxy, though is only half conscious, fiercely protecting children from any perceived threat.

note: yes i know there isn't actually an official Glamrock Foxy design, but this artist captured the feel i think so i'm basing my Glamrock Foxy off the looks of this one, there are some examples of Glamrock Foxy [🦊] [🦊]

#yes the fnaf brainrot is so strong i made salem a 2-part verse.#do i think i will be able to write in this verse often? no. was it fun to write up? yes :))#☽ salem ; alt v. — [ FNAF ] night shifter. ☾#☽ salem ; alt v. — [ FNAF ] welcome aboard. ☾#☽ salem — verses. ☾

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dukeoftheblackstar · 1 year

Note

Saw your other post about roleplaying star wars before on facebook, was it? You'll do fine! Welcome to the fandom.

You guys are so much nicer than the peeps I met before. Thank you very much! I haven't even been on here much apart from replying on some posts that tickle my fancy ♥.

Core memory. That's what it is for me.

It was what really made me appreciate Star Wars and over all Mandalorians before the series even came out.

I'm a heavily into planets, stars, skies, space, anything in the vast goodness of the outside world. In a sea of nekomimis and hot anime chicks as oc's and muses, I played this Seven-tailed cat-like goddess person who came across a Jango Fett writer.

Boy, a year and a month younger than me and we clicked. I brought his Jango to a series of wild adventure defeating creatures of Egypt and a shy mix of mythological gods and monsters of every kind. He loved it primarily because you know, it's the thrill of the fight in exchange for my muse to explore "human tools and practices".

Then one thing lead to another and he ended up playing Boba too, so that's two. Then they had legions, other OCs, then came the siths and jedi writers, then it because an actual faction and political bullshit came because back then we didn't care or specify age and shit.

If your profile says you're Jango Fett, Mandalorian, that was it. You add your origin story and we discover your headcannon. If you was sith, same goes. Nobody bothered to elaborate on anything, it was a come as you go and explore each other like mad dogs.

And as fun and magnificent as how it turned out, it had drawbacks. Certain snarky remarks and comebacks turned to heated mun-arguments because of actual mun-preferences; hence why I said it became political.

Lo and behold, we were two kids writing with adults that were double, triple our age and though that should not matter, it became a bit of a toxic environment.

I still retained some friends and we're at what, 16-18 years of friendship? Some of them even actually got together, some passed away, and some became integral part of my life.

There'd always be a special spot in my heart for Star Wars and roleplay or writing in general. I'm not a very well-versed Star Wars fan, but I know a thing or two, maybe a bit more than thing or two.

But yeah, it was as every bit warm as it had turned cold.

^ Look at this precious baby. My first love and literally my first boyfriend (the mun who wrote as Jango turned Boba, then his own oc).

#♝#nostalgia hitting me like pew pew pew #it's why I lurk on the Fett tags really #And why I strongly have this attachment to Jango and Boba #It was here where I actually fell in love with Star Wars aside from it being some space shit movie #sorry for the long post T_T #Star Wars #lore of love

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master-services-inc · 9 months

Text

Mastering Comfort: Your Ultimate Guide to Heating and Air Conditioning in Racine, WI

Introduction

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#heating and air conditioning #heating #cooling #plumbing services #heating service

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no-gorms · 2 years

Note

So here’s a question for you: in your cold space warm welcome verse would Tony ever wear something like the undersuit? And if so how would Steve react to it?

-----

Haa that's a good one! Okay so....

Future timestamp for Cold Stage, Warm Welcome, established relationship Steve/Tony

"What are you wearing?" Steve asks.

It takes Tony a second to parse the question, because he has maybe ten minutes to finish compiling for the armor before Pepper buzzes him to get a move on. He thinks he heard Steve enter the workshop -- wait, yes, he definitely heard the whoosh of the door, but his subconscious clearly recognized Steve's footsteps and decided that no alarm was necessary, hence Steve's being able to sort-of sneak up to Tony's side, where he's put a curious hand on Tony's shoulder.

A quick glance sideways confirms Steve's presence, and then Tony's back to tapping at the workscreen, all the while ticking off the mental list of modules he needs to get out by today.

"Undersuit," Tony says. "Oh. Right, you haven't seen it before, it's -- I can wear whatever when I'm inside the armor, but for longer flights it's just more comfortable to have this on, there's no seams or texture combos to press against the skin unevenly? That kind of thing seems like it wouldn't matter, but I can't exactly scratch myself when I'm inside, plus it helps with warmth and improved response time, 'cause there are circuits built into the..."

Tony trails off, finally registering through the last of the modules that Steve's hand has migrated down to Tony's bicep. He silently flicks the module into the inbox, and turns back to Steve.

Who is concentrating very hard on the way the black-with-gray-accents material is hugging Tony's arm.

"You coppin' a feel there, Steve?" Tony asks.

Steve meets Tony's gaze. There's no embarrassment at being caught out whatsoever, so Tony decides that -- despite the warm flush at the back of his neck -- he's not going to be embarrassed either. Steve asks, "Would you wear this to bed?"

Tony ignores the first quip on his lips, which is an unnecessary remark on how circuitweave spandex has a tendency to hug and reveal all sorts of body lumps that people don't even realize they have. That kind of comment would help no one, so Tony bypasses it to the next thought and says: "This is a work outfit, Steve. I wear it inside the armor." He pauses for a second, just to be dramatic, then adds, "Just let me launder it first."

"Ah." Steve nods. "I could wear my tactical suit, too, if you like."

Tony takes a slow inhale. He and Rhodey have a recon flight out in five minutes, and he needs to focus on that. Quick, efficient work done, means a quick, safe return to Steve. And Steve's apparent fascination with a body-hugging undersuit that Tony's only ever thought of his Iron Man pajama sleeve.

"All right, that's a deal," Tony says. "So uh... I'll see you in a few hours?"

"Sure thing," Steve says.

Tony quickly checks the workscreen to confirm that the armor is powering up, and grabs the spare ear communicator just in case. He starts to leave, and makes it two steps before realizing that Steve isn't walking with him; he's apparently that used to Steve trailing him all the way to the hangar when he has an away mission, that it's a surprise that Steve's now hanging back, staying where he is in leaning against the bench.

Though he realizes why when he turns back, and Steve's eyes immediately snap back up to Tony's face.

"Don't let me keep you." Steve clears his throat and waves a hand at the doorway. "I"ll be here."

"Wow," Tony says.

#scaramouche answers asks #anonymous #superhusbands for ts #verse: cold space warm welcome

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tetsvhoe · 3 years

Text

I KNOW WHO YOU PRETEND I AM [2]

you know the only time they look into your eyes is to search for someone else.

kuroo, bokuto, atsumu, suna, and sakusa’s part

pt. 2 regret and other cliches akaashi, kenma, iwaizumi

character/s: timeskip!akaashi keiji x f!reader ; timeskip!kenma kozume x gn!reader, timeskip!iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader

genre/s: ANGST pls don’t say i didn’t warn y’all

warning/s: none i think except for gut wrenching angst

gwen's notes 🤍: ik i promised a part two for the first one where they regret it and i swear im already writing it, i just couldn’t help myself from writing for other boiz

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

akaashi keiji

akaashi is a living breathing piece of art work. with his stoic expression, silky black hair, piercing emerald eyes, honeyed voice, calm and collected behavior, it seems as though he stepped right out of a portrait and escaped a museum. what a strange coincidence that he also has a passion for making art of his own—he weaves words into stories, turns the black and white of ink and paper into a kaleidoscope of hues painted on a canvas of his memories and emotions. lately, akaashi’s been lost in a world of his own. on top of editorial duties, he’s locked up in his office most of the time, building his own palace from paragraphs and verses. you try not to miss him too much when he ventures deep into the crevices of his mind as this is one of the things you loved most about him, he is perceptive and profound. akaashi hides his works from you and you assume he’s just being doubtful of his own talents as usual. you sneak around to read the portraits he’s painted about his muse. he immortalizes his love through art. akaashi writes about the knots in her hair, you note that he describes a different color from yours; how she stirs up a storm in her coffee every morning, you prefer cold coffee though he says it’s warm; the stardust in her tears when she cries, but he’s got your eye color wrong. you flip through the pages until the very end until you realize it is you who’s got it wrong. you learn that you are a side character in his narrative and none of the poems and sonnets are about you. akaashi has been writing about heartbreak when all you’ve been giving him is love. the hurt from his past takes up all the pages. he has no room for your love so you settle between the empty spaces, you’re reduced to nothing more than scribbles and notes on margins in a book he’s written about someone that’s not you.

kenma kozume

kenma says he hates being tired. he only played volleyball for his best friend. he neither enjoyed nor hated playing the sport. similarly, that’s how he goes about his life. he half asses tasks that aren’t important and does things merely out of compliance. he agrees to going out on dates you carefully map out so you stop nagging him about it. he poses for pictures with a thin lipped smile and an annoyed expression he doesn’t bother to hide so you could both get going. he holds your hand just to stop you from wandering places when you go out, he can’t wait to go home. he opens his arms to welcome your embrace even if just to tune you out while he games or scrolls through his phone. he answers your texts and calls quickly because he can’t stand the constant vibrating. you never take it to heart even when you know kenma says he hates being tired but he’s a college student, a professional gamer, a youtuber, a stock trader, and a CEO. why? because kenma, to put it more accurately, doesn’t hate being tired. he hates putting in effort to things that don’t matter to him. kenma is a lot of things, but he is not yours. he does put in effort when he patiently teaches you how to play his favorite games. he rushes you to reach AR16 in genshin impact so he could visit your world, steal your resources, and bully the bosses. he frequently visits a profile which has been active 256 days ago. he shows you around a wonderful cottagecore house he spent days building in minecraft. there’s already a bed next to his and you note this was someone else’s home. he puts in effort because from behind a screen, he could pretend you’re someone else.

iwaizumi hajime

iwaizumi has a short temper and a sharp tongue but you know he means well most of the time. he calls his best friend “shittykawa” and tells him to look after himself all in one breath. he’s known to hit oikawa every chance he gets but then goes around and studies sports science in another country as if it had nothing to do with the fact that oikawa injured himself and he would never let something like that happen twice. you wholeheartedly believe that there is a reason for everything iwaizumi says and does, even though he’s a little rough around the edges and poor at his executions. so you don’t mind the opinions he has about you; i think this style looks good on you. that color suits your skin, you should wear it more often. i like this perfume you’re wearing better than the other one. i think you would look good with this hairstyle. there is a reason for everything iwaizumi says and does. and you only find out what it is when you finally meet his ex for the first time and realize how similar you’ve become to them. he’s turned you into someone he could love, someone he still loves. apparently, you as yourself wouldn’t suffice.

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marvelcriminalhoe · 3 years

Text

The Vampire Kings Religion

Chapter 4

Series Warnings: Soft dark Steve, obsessive/possessive behavior, forced marriage, talks of blood, talks of feeding, death, eventual smut, probably some dubcon, eventual kinks, +18 minors DNI, maybe a little bit of dubious consent idk yet. This will be a soft DARK story so read at your own will.

word count: 2,514

Series Masterlist

When you're someone that grows up in the church, grows up in a religious home, you have expectations to live up to, rules to follow, a certain way you are taught to live your life.

If you don't live up to these expectations, follow the rules, or live your life they way you are told to, you're a disappointment. Shunned from your friends and family. Looked at as nothing more than a waste of space.

Or at least, that’s what you've seen happen.

You've watched as people who fell out of touch with the churches teachings were shunned and rejected from your human society. You saw how children would get disowned from their families, pushed out of their homes, for participating in the creature’s society.

The worst ones, were always when someone would join the blood brothels. Not only would you be disowned, shunned, but your family would be to, even if they detest your decision. You never thought that was fair, getting judged for someone else’s life, but that was the way the church worked. How could you be upstanding in your faith, if the ones under your roof didn't even follow it.

It’s the reason your father was so strict with you, keeping you locked away in the house, doing chores, the only thing to entertain yourself being your mothers old books. It’s a good thing you enjoyed reading, because you did a lot of it. You only left your house twice a week. Tuesdays, you would walk to the fresh market, picking up any groceries for the week, and on Saturdays, you would attend all of the church services, watching your father preach them.

You followed all the rules, read all the verses, and lived up to every expectation that was expected of you. Until now, that is. You have no doubt, you will never be welcomed to set foot in the human society again, let alone be allowed in your fathers home.

After the King all but declared you would be his wife, sealing his words to you with a cold kiss, he sat back down in his chair and watched you eat your lunch. You were extremely uncomfortable, for many reasons.

One, you had kissed him. You’ve kissed a boy before, your neighbor Dylan kissed you behind the church when you were 16. But Dylan’s kiss lasted all of 3 seconds. The Kings kiss was more firm, sure of himself, and left you breathless. Though, you are chalking that up to the surprise of it.

Second, someone watching you eat, just sitting there, staring at you, that’s weird. How are you supposed to eat normally when their calculating eyes are following your every move? Granted, you lost your appetite after his declaration, but if kissing you was some sort of punishment when you rebelled against him, you didn't want to give him a chance to think of more. So you ate bites of the food, from the plate that was placed in front of you, quietly and quickly. Not looking up to catch his gaze.

Once you were finished, he stood, pulling out your chair for you to do the same, grabbing your hand and pulling you up, making you trail after him.

He turns to you as he reaches the door, “How about a tour, doll?”

You just nod your head, motioning him to walk ahead of you, though, he has other ideas. He grabs your hand, linking your arm with his, and resting your hand on his forearm. His other hand lays atop yours, cold fingers drawing shapes on your warm skin, creating goosebumps to appear under your sleeve. He informs you that you were eating in his personal dinning room and that you've already seen his personal library. There is a bigger dining area and library for everyone else in the castle, though he doesn't enjoy using those.

You walk down the same hall Nat lead you down, soon reaching the same painting that stopped you the first time, you’re eyes are drawn to it again. Steve must notice your attention is not on his story, “Do you like it?” He questions you, watching your face intently.

You tear your eyes from the enchanting painting, looking at him, “It’s beautiful.”

A smile, a genuine one, graces his face. You admit to yourself, in your head, that he is beautiful as well, like this. You choose not to say that out loud.

“I’m glad you like it. It took me days to get it right.” His voice is soft, softer than you've heard so far, as if he is remembering it, as his eyes drift from you to the frame.

Your eyes go wide, a shocked gasp falling, “You painted it?”

He looks back to you, a smirk now replacing the smile, and you reprimand yourself for missing it. “Yes, darling. I’ve painted all of the paintings here.”

This leaves you more surprised, “You are very talented.”

“Thank you, doll.” He reaches his hand up, softly coping your face and letting his thumb graze over your jawline, “I’ll paint a portrait of you one day, hang it in my office to look at when I’m working.”

You become flustered, looking away from him, “That won’t be necessary.”

“Of course it will, darling.” He chuckles at you, looping your arms back together, making you continue to walk down the hallway, “Unless you would like to be by my side 24 hours a day, I’m imagining you'll need your rest.”

You don’t respond, your mind running with the innuendo of needing rest. You are human and you do sleep, unlike him, but a part of you feels he means something else. You just swallow thickly and nod, making his smirk grow, confirming your unsaid thoughts.

He takes you through the palace, showing you other paintings and rooms. You see the great hall, kitchens, bathrooms, and the guest bed chambers, for when he has other Royals come and stay. You know your country has two main allies. Wakanda, who is ruled by King T’chala, a werecat, and York, ruled by King Tony, an elf. You, of course, have never met them, or even seen them. But your mother always told you it was important to know about the countries around you. Your father disagreed.

Steve stops at a wooden door, different from the rest you've seen. This one is older, more worn, as if it has never been changed. “This is the chapel.” Steve tells you as he opens the big door, pulling you through the entry way.

“Chapel?”

Steve hums, looking around, “Vampires weren't always the ones to rule these lands.”

Naturally, you knew that, but all you've known, or anyone that isn't a 2000 year old vampire knows, is a vampire ruler. The thought of another creature, or even a human, being the King of Brookhaven, is not an easy task. As much as it goes against what you are told, you do think King Steve does a well job at keeping the kingdom and the land in order. Between the human and creature conflicts and clashes he has to handle, very few end in bloodshed.

Steve drops your arm in favor of putting both hands on your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your breath hitches and you try to create space between you, but his grip just tightens, holding you in place. “There have been plenty of weddings here. I always imagined this is where I would have mine as well.”

You stop struggling, seeing as it’s useless, “Look, all of this has been lovely, but I don’t understand why I’m here. Surely you can’t be serious about marrying me.”

“Why wouldn't I be serious?” He questions, genuinely confused.

You almost scoff, but hold it back, “I’m human. I’m a member of the church. I despise your kind.” You list off.

The dark chuckle that leaves his lips makes you tense up, He walks you back towards the door, pushing you up against it and crowding your space even further, His blue eyes darken, “Listen closely, because I am very tired of having to keep repeating myself to you and my patience is wearing thin, doll. We. Are. Getting married. I have waited long enough to find a wife. You will be a good little wife for me, and in return I will make you happy. But, if you want to keep fighting this like some brat, I can, and will punish you for it. Is that clear, darling?”

All you can do is nod your head, your body trembling in his hold. He doesn't seem to mind your silent reply, kissing your forehead, lingering a moment, and backing away.

“Good choice.” He grabs your hand once more, linking your arms together again, leaving the chapel behind you. “I’m afraid it is getting late, dear, the tour took longer than expected. I will have the driver take you home. Nat will come by in the morning to help you with your things.”

“My things?” You question, voice nothing more than a whisper, worried about pushing him again.

“Well, yes. To move you in. The wedding is 3 weeks away, I would like us to get familiar with one another before then.” He tells you as if it was the obvious decision.

You sputter at that, “We’ll be— We are— where will I sleep?”

“What do you mean? You’ll stay with me, why wouldn't you?” He looks at you then, finally taking in your flustered and slightly frightened state, “Don’t worry darling, I won’t touch you until the wedding night. I am a man of dignity after all. But I will not have you being in a chamber alone, not when mine is plenty big enough.”

He leads you the rest of the way to the doors, pulling you into a tight embrace when you reach them. His breath hits your ear as he whispers to you, “Until tomorrow, doll.” Kissing your check and caressing the spot softly. Your left with the same driver that brought you this morning. The ride, like then, is completely silent. But your mind is loud with thoughts.

How did this happen?

What will my father do?

Can I get out of this?

What will become of me now?

Steve finds Bucky in the chapel, sitting two pews from the front. The blonde man makes his way to his oldest friend, sitting next to him. Both of them are quite, staring at the candles lite on the benches in front of the room, letting the silence comfort them. Steve knows what Bucky wants to talk to him about, and will wait until his friend says it.

“She’s human.” Bucky voice is gruff sounding, he doesn't look away from the candles.

Steve doesn't flinch at the hard tone of his dark haired companion, barely even notices it, “If I must quote your wife, ‘So were we’. Besides we both know that is not your problem with her.” Bucky turns to Steve, huffing, “Fine. That’s not my initial problem, but I still don’t like it.” Steve raises a brow at him, a sign for him to continue, “She’s one of them.”

“No, her father is. She is different.” Steve’s voice is calm.

Bucky stares at him, taking in his demeanor, eyes almost scrutinizing, “You knew all along didn't you.”

“You must be more specific.”

Bucky’s eyes don’t let up, “Don’t play naive Steven, we both know it’s not a skill you are good at. You knew she would be the one you would marry.”

“Yes, I knew.” Steve sighs.

“How long?” Bucky questions him.

Steve turns back to the candles in front of him, “Awhile.”

“So why the whole charade then? Why announce you are looking for a wife if you already found her?”

Steve smirks a bit, “I am a King, but I still must keep myself in check. Or, appear to keep myself to the same rules I make others follow. How would it look to our allies if I announced immediately I would marry her? there needs to be a courtship, a public one. It can not look as if I am taking something I like by force.”

“Are you not?” Bucky asks sarcastically.

Steve glares at him, “Like you haven’t? She was made for me, I am simply collecting.”

Bucky nods, eyes drifting away until he thinks of another question or, statement really, “You know who her great grandfather is.”

“Yes.” Steve sighs, running a hand down his face.

“Does she know what he did?” Bucky questions.

Steve shakes his head, “Not from what I’ve seen.”

Bucky looks down to his covered left arm. He knows where the scars are, even covered. He can remember each and every one. He can remember every moment from that wretched night. He closes his eyes and wills the thoughts to go away.

“I know you've read her file.” Steve tells him, “You know who her mother was aswell.”

Bucky’s eyes open again, standing from the pew, “Doesn’t mean I have to like it, or her.”

Steve laughs at that, “Good luck with that. Pretty sure your wife would adopt her if she could.”

Bucky just scoffs, shaking his head, before he laughs himself, knowing the blonde man was right. He looks down to where he is still seated, “I’m going to the Red Room, care to join?”

The Red Room is the most exclusive of the blood brothels in Brookhaven.It is the one that they frequent at when they need to drink. Vampires don’t need to feed often, despite the belief that they do. The older they are, the easier it gets for them to control their thirsts, longer they can go between them. Steve has met some vampires, much older than himself, that only drink once or twice a year.The younger vampires need to feed more often, their desire for the blood still fueling their actions.

Centuries and centuries ago, the new born vampires would become out of control, killing and feeding off of whole villages. The elders of the time were called to action. They’re solution was to create the brothels.

The blood brothels were created to help satiate the young vampires thirst, keeping them in control, and keeping the villages safe. It wasn't hard to find people to run the brothels. Getting bit by a vampire, one that does not have the desire to kill, only to drink, is a euphoric feeling for the giver. Leaving them in a sort of dazed state, only feeling the joys of life, removing all of the darkness from the giver until the bite wears offs. Most blood brothels only have human givers, occasionally a magical being with blood in their veins will join, however, humans are the most common.

Steve shakes his head at his friend, “No, you have fun.”

Bucky hums, “Suit yourself.”

Soon, Steve is left alone in the chapel, watching the flames flicker, melting the wax to run down the candles edge, his mind only on one thing, the same thing it has been on for ages, longer than most will ever know.

You.

#steve rogers x reader #soft dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers #steve rogers #soft dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #steve rogers au series #vampire steve rogers #king steve rogers #king steve rogers x reader #vampire steve rogers x reader #king steve rogers series

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ghirahimbo · 3 years

Note

55 - RevaLink

I always love people interpretations of them figuring out how to kiss

I'm way too lazy to go look up the exact wording of the prompt, but it had something to do with awkward kisses? So here you go :D

Word count: 1363. Rated... T, probably? Could be any established revalink, though I had Pinesong-verse in mind.

The soft chirp of restless crickets signaled yet another nightfall, their high-pitched calls insistent, yet distant enough to fade into gentle ambiance. Wind whistled through the leafy forest, not as cold as the breezes through Rito Village that carried the chill of Hebra, but still cool enough that the Hylian sprawled across Revali’s chest was a welcome source of warmth and not an unbearable furnace. With the dinner fire burned down to embers, Link had laid his bedroll out beneath a tree and promptly abandoned it in favor of crawling into Revali's hammock instead—a tradition now, on cool nights like this one.

Though Link often fell asleep the instant he curled up, tonight he laid awake, his silence somehow thoughtful as he ran his hand along Revali’s beak. Revali was too far gone himself to think much of it, herded gently towards sleep by the rocking hammock and rhythmic stroke against his face.

Stroke… stroke… stroke… poke.

"Can you feel that?"

The rhythm disrupted, Revali’s bleary eyes cracked open.

"What?"

"Can you feel that?" Link repeated, poking Revali’s beak again.

...The insufferable man actually needed an answer. Grunting, Revali shifted around beneath him until his wing was freed.

"Inane," he muttered, flicking a finger at Link's nose. "Can you feel that?"

Scrunching up his face, Link went on undeterred. He'd long since learned not to take Revali’s moods too seriously.

"It's just—" Link stretched one leg out as far as it would go, pressing the tip of his largest toe against one of Revali’s long talons. "I don't think you can feel this very well… so I wondered if it was the same up here?"

He stroked the length of Revali’s long beak up and down again in demonstration, and it took everything in him not to shiver. Ah.

"No, it's…" How to explain while caught beneath that distracting caress? "I can feel that you're touching my talon, if not much else… but the beak is more…"

"Sensitive," Link finished, catching it in both his hands now. This time Revali did shiver, his feathers ruffling lightly.

"Mmm."

Presuming Link's curiosity satisfied with no further questions forthcoming, Revali closed his eyes, seeking out that soft space of sleep once more. His heart thumped just slightly harder than normal, and he breathed in deeply, hoping to settle—

"But is it the same all the way up?" Link asked, poking now at the tip of Revali’s beak, and his eyes snapped back open. Walking his fingers again up its length, Link met Revali’s baleful stare with a questioning look. So he was feeling experimental tonight, was he?

"I could still banish you to your own bed," Revali grumbled, though Link didn't even bat an eye. With an explosive sigh, he knocked Link's hands aside to brush at his own beak vigorously, trying to relieve some of the tingle of stimulation. "I feel things… less… towards the tip, and more along the base. Does that satisfy your midnight inquisition?"

"Almost." Though Revali couldn't quite make out his face in the darkness, Link's voice was just a bit too innocent as he inched up Revali’s chest, propping himself on his elbows for leverage. "So you're saying that this doesn't feel as good as this?" And he pressed his lips twice against Revali’s beak—first at its very tip, and again three inches up.

Revali gave himself a moment to clear his throat before responding.

"They're both… fine," he said. In the dim light of the stars, he could just see Link’s lips purse.

"Fine," Link repeated, and placed another Hylian kiss halfway up his beak. The tip of his tongue peeked out this time, leaving the smallest impression of wetness behind. "But this is better?"

"Marginally." Revali spared a moment's pride for how collected he managed to sound—not at all reflective of how he felt. "To be honest, the difference is too minuscule to really—"

"This is better, though," Link said decisively, his kisses moving closer to the corner of Revali’s beak. From the floundering depths of his mind, Revali agreed, though whether from the placement of the kiss or its confidence he couldn't have said even to himself. "And this…"

He ran a devious finger down the underside of Revali’s beak, and Revali very nearly whimpered. Link had discovered that particular point of sensitivity early on, standing just short enough beside Revali to reach it easily.

"This spot should be the best of all—"

As Link's treacherous lips approached, Revali quickly turned his head. He stopped short, and a taut silence stretched between them. Then he sighed, drawing back to rest his head again on Revali’s chest. From so close, Link couldn't possibly miss his fluttering heart.

"It does feel good, right?" Link asked, his quiet voice muffled by feathers. Swallowing, Revali nodded. "But you don't like it." Another, shorter pause. "Are you really that tired?"

"I can't… reciprocate," Revali said stiffly, finally trusting his voice enough to speak. "Your way of kissing. I can't…"

He had observed the Hylian method of kissing before, watching more astutely in recent days now that it had practical application, and—well, putting aside how messy and strange that mashing together of soft lips seemed, he was nonetheless incapable of replicating it. As for the Rito method of nuzzling, he had tried it a few times and Link had put up with it well enough, but without the friction of rubbing beaks he suspected there was little exciting about it.

"I don't feel comfortable receiving where I cannot give in return," Revali said at last, hoping that made his point clear. He thought it had, though Link still huffed against his chest.

"I can't exactly reciprocate when you braid my hair," Link pointed out dryly. "Or at least, you wouldn't want me to."

Despite his discomfort, Revali couldn't help but grunt in amused agreement. If size equalled dexterity then Link's tiny Hylian fingers should have made the tightest, most intricate braids, but that had so far not proven to be the case.

"It's not the same."

"Well…" Link's voice grew more muffled as he pressed further into Revali's chest feathers, and Revali had to lean forward to catch his words. "Well, um. I mean. You could try that, uh… nipping thing? I've seen other Rito do it." His last mumbled words were barely audible. "With their beaks."

"Nipping," Revali repeated blankly, casting around in his mind for what Link might have seen. "You mean grooming? Because I already—that is, you don't really have any feathers for me to…"

"Oh!" Link said weakly. Intrigued, Revali noticed that the face pressed against him had warmed considerably—practically a furnace now despite the cold wind. "Is that what they were…? No, it's fine." His voice strengthened, his head lifting a fraction. "It's fine. I don't mind if you can't kiss me back, you know. If you don't like it I'll stop, but… I like to think I could make you feel… good."

Craning around again so that he hovered at the point where the underside of Revali's beak met his neck, Link still waited the long moments it took for Revali to jerk his head in assent before moving in further, nipping at the tender spot with his lips again and again as Revali’s breath caught. This… wasn't so bad, really. Loving Link had always felt like some form of surrender. Maybe this once he could just… accept.

Nipping…

Link's slender ears hovered just to the side of Revali’s beak, turned pink by a mixture of cold and fading embarrassment. Those had proven sensitive to the brush of Revali’s feathers before, so maybe…

Experimentally, he pulled his beak free to nip at one of the tips, not hard enough to break the skin but still firm enough to be felt—and Link let out a strangled gasp. Interesting.

"Oh," he breathed, jerking back to stare at Revali wide-eyed. "Oh, yes."

Very interesting.

This time, it was Revali who pursued with a devious look of his own—not that Link put up much of a fight, taking to surrender much more easily than Revali ever had. Maybe there was reciprocity to be found here after all.

#revalink #my writing #writing prompts #this is barely edited so #i hope it's fine 😊#pinesong

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technicallymilkshakes · 3 years

Text

Reciprocal ❂ || 1 of 2

A Manager!verse story Genre(s): Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Smut (in future chapter) Pairing: Jongin x Reader Word Count: 4.1k No warnings for this chapter, but note that the next one will contain mature content.

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Less than two hours outside of Seoul, the night air already seemed easier to breathe. The windows were open and a rain-scented breeze blew in to riffle the top of your hair. Brake lights reflected red on the slick roadside ahead of you before fracturing into ten thousand raindrops against the windshield. This was a Friday night kind of feeling. You felt reckless and emotional, free for the first time in months and brimming with life.

Jongin had told you that he would halfsy the drive. Instead, he was deep asleep in the passenger seat, head slumped sideways, shoes kicked off within minutes of entering the vehicle. Promotions had been particularly brutal this time around. Without the other members to help ease the burden, Kai had to be on at all times. He was charming and dorky and witty—he flourished under all the attention—but it came with a toll. You scheduled PT sessions in any brief moments of respite you could cram then in. He slept wherever and whenever he could and when he couldn't, he drank coffee.

Running point for this solo had been just as taxing for you. Time moved in recordings, photoshoots, and appearances. You'd fall asleep and wake up reviewing the itinerary. Promotions were occurring across a variety of platforms and you spent countless hours researching and breaking down offers, liaising with event managers and security, monitoring press reviews and social media. You were in so deep, you didn't even realize you weren't living until someone else pointed it out. Nine, Baekhyun's manager, encouraged both of you to take a vacation. Pronto. Their experience shepherding Baekhyun through multiple solo albums had been invaluable, so you weren't about to argue.

Besides, you hadn't been to the mountains since your first year of high school.

It had stopped raining by the time you pulled up to your destination. Jongin was already awake, blinking heavily at the sight that greeted him.

The mountain lodge was modern but inviting. The lights were on and they spilled pleasantly out into the night. You turned the car off and stepped out into chilled air enlivened with the sounds of leaves rustling, insects chirping, and nocturnal animals stirring.

Inside, golden wood warmed the open space. The retreat was divided into two levels—living/dining area and one bedroom on the first floor and the master bedroom with a balcony that would be rich with fresh vegetables in the summer on the second.

You looked out on the living room. The designer had impeccable taste. Plush seating with cushions and pillows in sumptuous fabrics curled around a fireplace. Your toes sank into lush, layered carpeting, which bracketed and defined the space. It was comfortable and intimate. You could easily imagine yourself sinking into a chair and nestling in for a nap, lulled into a trance by the fire.

The kitchen gleamed in the opposite corner, all straight lines and modern appliances. And the dining area next to it. Table and chairs had been regally arranged in front of wall-to-wall sliding glass doors that, for now, looked out onto darkness.

But there was one particular feature that had clinched the deal when you booked the place.

“There's a spa bath here,” you said, and suppressed a smile at the soft 'ooh' Jongin let out as he disappeared to investigate.

A quietness settled over you in his wake. There was no wifi here, no work to haunt your waking nor sleeping hours. The other managers were under strict orders not to contact you unless there was an emergency.

You felt oddly vulnerable, stripped of the last vestiges of responsibility holding you together. Listless and exhausted, you climbed upstairs and fell into bed without a thought for anything else.

You woke early the next morning, body too used to being tired. You stared at the ceiling for an indeterminable time, thoughts eddying around without any clear distinction, like static noise that only resolved itself into proper words when you concentrated.

You'd been managing Kai for almost five years now. Hard to believe. You loved this, the sense of belonging and the endless opportunities to learn, but the pace was grueling. Five years was a long time. You couldn't imagine how some of the older managers had kept up. You weren't sure how you had kept up. And, if you were being honest, you weren't sure anymore if you should.

But that was too much thinking for this early in the morning. You rolled over in bed and shut your eyes.

After the appropriate amount of indeterminable time had passed, you heaved yourself out of bed. Sleep wasn't coming back for you. Duvet wrapped around your shoulders, you slinked downstairs to find Jongin rummaging around in the cabinets. He spun around, flinching as a drawer clanged shut behind him, then relaxed.

“You too, huh?” he said with a lopsided grin.

You nodded. It was no surprise to find him here. You were just two bodies too accustomed to being together.

You turned your gaze to the counters. “What are you doing?”

“I was trying to make some coffee.”

He looked wan and tired. One armed wrapped around his middle, the collar of his shirt sunk low enough to expose his collarbones... like he was holding himself together, trying to stay warm.

A sense of fierce protectiveness overcame you. You were both overworked. But at least in this small bubble, this moment in time and space, nothing could hurt him, including himself. No work excuses allowed.

“That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen,” you said, and he gave a weak laugh before getting an armful of duvet shoved at him. “Go sit down, I'll bring it over.”

Jongin stood there a moment staring at you. Under-cabinet lighting slashed over his chest, the rest of him slipping into shadow before he disappeared completely as he pulled the duvet over your head.

You felt a light kick to your backside.

“Hey!” You wrestled with the duvet. “As soon as I get out of this thing...!”

But he was grinning at you when you finally pulled it off, and you felt your urge for vengeance abate far too quickly as your fatigue flared. You still punched him in the shoulder, though.

He pouted, rubbing his shoulder.

“Oh, don't give me those puppy dog eyes. You deserved it.”

“I can make coffee...”

“You can,” you agreed. “With adult supervision. Now get the kettle out.”

The sunrise was something pulled from a poet's imagination. The lodge perched along a low ridge and peered down into the valley. Jongin had pulled open the curtains to what only last night had looked out into darkness and now found the world at his door. Together, you watched as the sun spilled over the mountain peaks opposite, then glissaded down powdery slopes to the tree line. The trees across the valley, where the mountains were taller, were still snowcapped, and the first sun rays lit them up like jewelry before setting them aflame with light, their trunks like matchsticks to the fire. Shadows tucked themselves in to sleep at the feet of the brightest places.

Day woke and stretched its radiant fingers across the sky to tangle in the wingtips of greeting birds. And with the sun came some clarity. These last few months had tested your commitment and shaken the bedrock upon which you had built your future. But if everyday the birds could rise and welcome the the newborn morning so lovingly, you thought you could keep trying to find beauty in it, too.

Next to you, Jongin had fallen asleep wrapped in your duvet. You leaned over and tucked his toes in.

The village was quaint and small, situated on a scenic one-lane-each-way route that wound through the mountains. The cashier at the grocery store greeted you as you entered. You felt her eyes on your back as you moved through the store.

The cabin came stocked with various dry foods, but you needed to pick up the perishables. Most of the in-season vegetables and fruit had been grown in the area, with little signs detailing farms and their locations. Strawberries, kumquat, apples, wild parsley and chive, and even shepherd's purse laying in baskets, some of which had been foraged from the mountainside just this morning. There was a vibrant freshness to the produce here that you just couldn't find in the city.

You gathered everything you needed, taking no heed of diet restrictions or nutritional value, and went to ring up your purchases. The cashier gave you small smile and talked quietly of some of the hidden gems to visit around here, hands sweeping back and forth over the scanner as she spoke. She had a soft and lilting accent you found pleasant to listen to.

You hid your embarrassment. Was it that obvious you were from out of town? She probably knew from the moment you had stepped inside. Heck, you hadn't worried about fitting in for so long. Over the years, your accent had eroded away against standard Korean and harsh edges of the city. And the boys had been so welcoming. At least she was friendly, though. Soon enough, you were hauling your bags out to the car, but not before thanking the woman for her advice.

Jongin was still lying on the couch when you got back, barely awake. Two cold mugs of coffee lay abandoned on the table next to him, one still nearly full. He sat up when you walked in with the bags, frowning.

“You went shopping?”

You heard the missing “without me?” and gave him a calm look. “You were asleep and I needed something to eat for lunch.”

He gathered himself up with a frown, wrapping the duvet around himself just as you had this morning. It already felt like a day ago even though it couldn't be past 11 in the morning. He inspected the bags, pulling them open and poking through them. You watched with amusement between putting the contents of the already-poked-through-bags away.

“What are you, a dog?”

“You got pig bars?!” He pulled out the ice cream, the item cradled in his palms. He looked at you wide-eyed, some mixture of reverence and fright.

“Yes. No chicken either.”

He kept staring down at his hands and you chuckled awkwardly to fill the silence. He opened the ice bar and jumped up onto the counter.

As you put the groceries away and then began making soy bean soup with the shepherd's purse, Jongin remained quiet and watchful. You enjoyed living alone back in Seoul, but you found you didn't mind his company. His presence was comforting—a constant, quiet companion. Not a dog, then. Your lips quirked. A cat.

The kitchen filled with the beat of knife against cutting board, the melody of soft burbling from the pot on the stove. You found yourself slipping back into the rhythm of cooking, like a dancer remembering the steps to an old song.

“What song is that?”

You startled, knife slipping, nicking the knuckle of your middle finger. You hissed, dropping the knife to inspect the cut. “Shit. What?”

Jongin jumped down from the counter, grabbing your hand, apologies tripping themselves over his lips.

“It's fine, it's really shallow, don't worry about it.”

His grip tightened, and his head remained bent low over your hand, examining the cut. “Let me worry,” he said.

So you sat in muteness after washing the cut. He took your hands and dried them with a towel, soft pats and delicate swipes. His eyes would flick up to your face now and again, carefully observing your expression. Sometimes, you would catch him doing it. His lips would arc gently into a smile and you would look away, scalded by the softness of lips and eyes. You stared instead at his fingers. They moved as light as butterflies over you as he applied a bandage.

Jongin lifted himself away, a lightness to his shoulders.

The words cast themselves from your throat, thrown out like hooks, that old part of you reeling to keep his attention.

“Thank you.”

Something glittered behind that gaze. He looked you straight on with that smile like honey and said, “I was glad for the chance to take care of you.”

After lunch, you went straight up to your room, sank onto your bed, and stared blankly at the wall.

What was that? Your mind sped in a circuit, thoughts looping back on each other. Why'd he do that?

Surely your brain had short-circuited. He was like that with everyone, you reminded yourself, sweet and concerned. The type to ask a stranger how they're doing and stick around for an answer. But without the barrier of work, things felt different. It dredged up old feelings, back when you were half-way in love with him. It embarrassed you something fierce now, but in the beginning you used to make a playlist of all the songs you knew he listened to. You'd play it at night after work, lying in bed in the dark and wondering if right now, he wasn't doing the same. It made you long for him and feel closer to him all at once. You always paid Kim Jongin too much attention.

But at some point, you changed your focus. You threw yourself into the role of manager head first. Taking care of him was number one. You spent so much time around him in various states of undress over the years, helping with quick changes or applying therapeutic patches. You'd stood behind the cameras, watching other people fall in with him with a smile. You'd seen him at his worst, in pain, angry and sullen with the confinement of the world. It was the ultimate form of exposure therapy. Gone were the nights filled with music and yearning. You'd prepare for the next schedule before you sank exhausted into a deep and dreamless sleep. You thought you were immune.

You should've been immune.

So why did it feel so very much like you weren't?

You acted skittish around him at dinner, skirting over things and racing through the meal. You felt his cool gaze on you as you ate and felt yourself hunkering lower and lower over your plate like some threatened beast.

“Did you want to take a bath?”

“What?” you squeaked.

He looked up at you over his forkful of pasta, eyebrows raised.

“The bath in my room. It's like a spa. I thought you might want to relax while you're here. You're welcome to use it anytime.”

“Oh.” You swallowed thickly. “Um, maybe later. Thanks.”

Safe to say you did not take a bath in his room that night.

You woke first the second day. Sleep hadn't come easy, and you spent much of the night thinking of how to stop thinking, daydreaming of a long walk to purge all thoughts from your head. And so you dressed and headed downstairs on quiet socked feet. The owner of the lodge kept galoshes for the guests, and you pulled a pair out, slipping them over your shoes before walking out into the world.

Most of the snow that remained on this side of the mountain had melted, leaving behind stretches of mud that sucked at your shoes. Around you, the birds trilled. The forest was full of forest noises—pine needles brushing against the wind, woodpeckers drilling against bark. The website for the lodge mentioned that there were a number of trails maintained by a grounds crew throughout the property. A stream bordered the western edge of the property, and you thought you remembered something about a Buddhist shrine located near there.

You missed this, you realized about a half hour into the walk. Seoul had its share of scenic parks and river walks, but it felt like a held breath. Something temporary, a quick break before you returned to the rushing arteries of people making a living.

Life felt impossibly lethargic here in contrast. You realized, with one moment of panic, that you hadn't yet checked your phone this morning, before it dissipated slowly. You were on vacation, you reminded yourself. The others could hold down the fort while you were gone.

The path you were following rounded a corner into a scenic corner of the world. A small waterfall fed by snowmelt spilled over a mossy rock face into a pool surrounded by sweet grass. You stayed there for a while by the edge, mist falling over you in fine sprays. Small diamonds of water accumulated along the woolen fibers of your sleeves.

After about 15 or 20 minutes, the urge to move was back. The trail branched off here, and a lichen-covered stone marker sat in the intersection. You recognized it as one of the landmarks the woman from the grocery had mentioned. The hanja carved into it had grown worn and faded. 'Grove of the Elders' it read. You took the path to the left.

Soon, you found yourself in the Grove of the Elders. Erman's birch trees filled the clearing. The branches were still spindly, buds just forming on the tips. Papery bark peeled away from the trunk like old men's beards. White forsythia was in the early stage of blooming along the periphery. You understood why it had been named the way it had.

You made your way through the grove. The trees were well-established, some with trunks thick enough to wrap your arms around. You were making your way through the grove, marveling at the open blue sky above you, when you almost stepped on Jongin.

“Whoa.” He jumped up from where he had been reclined against the base of a tree, rubbing a hand along the backs of his thighs. “What are you doing here?”

It was disorienting to run into him here, out in the middle of the woods. You had forgotten about him, about everything if you were being honest. But confronted with the realness of him again, your worries returned.

“Me?” you asked. “I was on a walk. What are you doing laying here?”

“I was trying to read.” He flashed a heavily dog-eared paperback of Papillon. “Didn't really get that far,” he said with a wry grin.

“Oh, sorry. I'll let you get back to it.”

You made to leave when his hand stretched out and gripped your sleeve.

“That's not what I meant.” He seemed flustered at your misunderstanding and he released his grip on you. “You don't have to. I was actually thinking about stretching my legs. If you don't mind the company.”

“I don't,” you responded quietly, even though you weren't sure if that was the truth. You had come here to be alone with your thoughts after all, not spiral into a silent panic.

Jongin smiled at you and shoved his book in the back of his jeans as he fell into step.

It felt surreal to walk through the woods like this with him. It was like being on the set of a music video, except you were the subject. The perfect setting for a story.

“Is it okay if I tell you something?”

Jongin sent you a questioning look. Something about his eyes caught you. You realized that this was maybe the first time you were about to confide something in him. Secrets were dangerous things. “Yeah, of course.”

“Sometimes I wonder how much of a person I am without you.” You laughed. “It's silly, I know. But I used to be so spontaneous. One time, I volunteered to pose nude for an adult art class just because, I dunno, it seemed like an experience. I liked collecting memories. My friends always used to ask me what I was up to.

“Now, they ask me what you're doing. Because it's the same thing now, I guess.”

You exhaled, then felt a hand wrap around your own.

Jongin looked at you, really looked at you. There was a particular intensity to this, a piercing quality that you had never been subjected to.

“You are more than me,” he said.

You were taken aback at his response.

His grip tightened. “I couldn't do this without you,” he continued. “I should've told you before—but I'm not like Jongdae, I forget. I think,” he ran a hand through his hair, “I thought you already knew, but it was stupid of me too assume when I wasn't... I didn't... You're the best manager I've had. I'm not saying that just to flatter you.”

The words tumbled out of him. You'd never seen him so discombobulated, and that threw you off kilter in turn. You hadn't expected anything from him, had let go of the words like balloons released from clumsy fingers, where an appropriate response might be “oh no.”

“You're knowledgeable and accountable. Do you know how much I rely on you? I was so nervous this comeback, I only made it through because of you.” He swept your hand up to his chest. You could feel his heart beating frantically against your knuckles, like it, too, was trying to tell you something. “I do better when you're around. I want to make you proud. So get that through your stubborn brain: I wouldn't be even half of what I am now if it wasn't for you.”

The tears came, unbidden. In a heartbeat, Jongin had pulled you in close, your head against his chest. One of his arms wrapped around your back, while the other lay now at your sides, his fingers still intertwined with yours.

“I don't even know why I'm crying,” you laughed through your tears.

“You're always fighting for me. I just wish I could do more for you.” His fingers grazed over the bandage on your finger.

The laughter faded into full-throated sobs. Your heart squeezed with an uncomfortable fullness. You were overwhelmed. Lately, it had felt as if work was a crushing void, a thankless pit that sucked everything out of you. You felt isolated, living life without reciprocation or support. Jongin wouldn't know it, but he made you feel like a person again. He brought back the colors.

Dew drops dripped from branches around you, soft patters against soft spring grass. Jongin was warm and solid against you.

“I get scared that I can't do this forever.” The words were spoken softly. Jongin wasn't looking at you when you lifted your head, focused instead on something in the distance. “I don't know what I would I do without EXO.” He finally dropped his gaze to yours. You saw your own uncertainty reflected back. “Or you.”

You knew then that everything you'd been through lately, the uncertainty, didn't matter. You were both a little broken. So you pressed yourself against him harder, a pair of fractured hearts holding each other up. “You won't be getting rid of me anytime soon.”

Jongin sank into the embrace, his cheek pressed against your temple. You felt his chest build with a sigh, felt the exhale on the baby hairs of your nape. Dry lips grazed against you. His wordless thanks lingered upon your skin.

By some unspoken agreement, Jongin's hand remained in yours on the trek back to the lodge. You walked close enough to brush arms and skim each others thighs. A small part of you dreaded that you'd have to let go once you got back.

“The first time I realized I trusted you was when I told you I didn't know how to iron,” he confessed out of the blue.

You laughed. You remembered that day. Jongin had been adamant about wearing a bear-print shirt to the airport the following day, but it was so wrinkled. The collar pointed in two different directions and one sleeve was longer than the other unless someone held it down straight.

“I didn't know how to iron a shirt either,” you admitted.

Jongin grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “We had to look up a tutorial on Naver, remember?”

“Oh yeah, the one with the Kyungsoo look-a-like, right? I took screenshots and sent them to Cho-hee.” You told him how Kyungsoo's manager had coerced him into recreating the shoot. Jongin had gasped delightedly and you made a mental note to show him the pictures when you got back. “But hey, wait, you still don't know how to iron, what the heck! I just ironed something for you last week!"

“Ah I don't know, I don't know,” Jongin chanted, plugging an ear with his free hand. “What tutorial? I don't know anything.”

“Kim Jongin, you are shameless.”

Laughter rang through the trees. Here was the morning you would rise to greet every day.

___________________________

A/N: The second, and final, chapter should be up next weekend (June 19-20). Me, releasing more than one thing in a month? Who am I??

Thank you for reading!

A/N 2: Second part is now up.

[ ❂ Read more Manager!verse here ]

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chanandlersstuff · 3 years

Text

Sunrise // P.17

Author’s note: I have pretty much nothing to say about this chapter besided that this chapter is more from the POV of Dan, that I love every second of it and I really hope you like it as much as I do. Hope you have and amazing day.

Series Masterlist

While Tes’ nightmares still lingered in her brain, Daniel’s head was half focused on what’s left from the season and the other half on her. He sensed that she was off from the texts he received but he couldn't do much thanks that she pretended that everything was fine. He wanted to help her to deal with whatever she was dealing with at the moment and at the same time he didn’t want to intrude in her life. He wanted to be there for her, like she had been there for him at the end of the middle of the shitty season, but it seemed to him that she wasn’t used to opening up about her problems. Tes already told him on their date on the beach that she doesn't have the most healthy coping mechanism so it was understandable that he was preoccupied.

Either way he was on his way to pick her up from her house to go to Max’s party. He parked the car and walked towards the door, and just like the last time he was there for their date, one of the boys opened the door for him and stayed in the kitchen talking until her simply black tied to the ankle heels clicked on the stairs. She was wearing a loose black dress with a pronounced v neck that let see the silver body chain adorning her chest and went all down to her left thigh. Her long braided hair styled to the back. Tes was breathtaking to Daniel’s eyes.

When she looked up, they locked eyes and a very warm feeling ran through her body. He was there a couple steps away from the bottom of the stairs wearing black trousers and shoes, one of his party shirts with white patterns on it and a silver chain around his thick neck as well a silver bracelet next to the one she gifted him. She could inhale his perfume from where she was standing and when the woody scent reached her nostrils she let go a deep breath she didn’t know it was holding. And just like the last time he opened the front door for her and then put his hand on her back to walk towards the car.

The drive to the place where the party was hosted was filled with music, this time it was Mac Miller, playing in the background. Daniel rapped some verses and Tes sang the chorus. The atmosphere was so good, the way his laugh filled the space plus his scent, made Tes almost forget her problems. He turned his head at her at every red light to admire her, her carefree exterior, the little shy smile and how the street light made her face shine every time it entered through the window.

He parked the car and went to open her door, he stretched his hand to help her get out of his car and the feeling on her small cold hand in his was so normal, so correct that scared her a little but it comforted her at the same time. The guy on the front door let them in when he told him his name, Daniel walked behind Tes to not lose her in the sea of people. -Tell me whenever you want to go home and we will be out of here in a blink of an eye.- His hot minty breath in her ear made chills round down her spine.

She looked at him from over her shoulder and he was looking at her with a brow raised, so she smiled and nodded with her head. They climbed up the stairs towards the VIP section and there were some friends of Max from outside the track and other drivers with their girlfriends as well. Daniel greeted some people along the way until he saw a girl and apoched her. -Hey Kelly, how are you?

In front of them was a pretty girl with black hair and green eyes. -Hi Daniel, I’m fine. How are you?

-Great. Tes, this is Max’s girlfriend Kelly. Kelly, this is Tes.- Daniel introduced them and Kelly looked at her with a smile on her face.

-Hi.- They said at the same time. -Max told me you will be coming with someone special.- She smiled towards Daniel. -Pleasure to meet you Tes.- She was being kind to Tes, so welcoming.

-Speaking of him. Where’s the birthday boy?- Daniel said, looking around.

-Oh he’s with Charles and Lando over the bar.- Kelly turned around and pointed where they were. Daniel thanked her and with his hand still on her back walked towards them.

Again, his hands on her body felt so natural, so normal, so correct for her and it wasn’t even in a sexual manner, he was just leading her the way to not lose her around all those people. His warm hand brought heat to every part of her body that he touched, making her blush without him noticing.

-Max Verstappen it’s that you? Oh my God! Can I take a selfie with you?- Daniel said like a fan making the three guys turn around to look at who was talking.

When they saw them they laughed. -Of course, everything for my number one fan.- The guy with beard and golden dark hair said laughing. -Glad you came man.

-Of course mate. Happy birthday.- They hugged and patted their backs. -Guys this is Tes, Tes this is Max.- He pointed to the guy he hugged.

-The birthdayboy.- Tes said smiling. -Happy birthday, thank you for inviting me.- Max smiled and kissed her check.

-Thanks and it’s no problem. I already told you that I probably would have burned Daniel's brain until he invited you.- They laughed. -Glad to finally meet you in person. I heard a lot of things about you.

-Likewise. Although I hope they were nice things.- Tes said smiling and Max laughed.

-Oh trust me, they were very nice things.- Max said in a teasing tone looking at Daniel.

-Okay….. This is Charles, he is also a driver.- Daniel introduced her to the boy with dark brown hair and green eyes.

-Hi.- Tes smiled and he kissed her cheek too.

-And you two have already met each other.- Daniel said, looking at Lando and her.

-Yes.- The two of them said and he kissed her cheek.

Max looked at Daniel surprised. -How is it that he met her before I did?- He said with a fake indignant tone and a hand in his heart.

They laughed. -I’m his teammate now, I’m more important than you Max. He doesn’t want you anymore.- Lando said with his english accent mixed with a teasing tone while he patted his shoulder.

-Bullshit. I’m his favorite.- Daniel chuckled making Tes laugh.

-Truth is that she came with me to the MTC after Monza and they met there. Don’t be jealous Max.- Daniel said and Max looked at him with a frown.

Tes stayed with the boys while Daniel ordered a beer for him and a glass of wine for her. Daniel looked at her when Lando asked her about her time in the MTC and if she had a good time there, how she became all shy when Charles told her that he had listened to a couple of her songs when his girlfriend, Charlotte, put her playlist on the car and that he had liked them, how she caught in the moment the teasing demeanour in Max and joked with him, all that with a smiled on his face with her by his side and his hand, sometimes, lingering in her back. At some point Charlotte came to ask Charles something and almost freaked out when she saw her. Daniel watched every movement she did, how Tes greeted her and talked to her then walked towards the dance floor with her because she was looking for a dance partner and Charles said that he wasn’t drunk enough to do that. Her petite frame mixed with the people in the dance floor dancing with Kelly, Charlotte, Victoria and other people.

Daniel was with his arms leaned on the railing of the VIP that overlooked the dance floor seeing her talking with Charlotte and Charles. He had his eyes so fixed on her that he didn’t even acknowledge his friend besides him until he talked. -So, what’s up with you two?- He turned his head towards Max.

-What are you talking about?- Max raised his eyebrow.

-Really? Are you gonna play dumb?- Daniel put his best “I don’t know what are you talking about” face and Max took a deep breath. -Since when are you two together?- Max said, looking at Tes.

Daniel almost choked with his drink. -What? We are not together, we are just friends.

Max laughed. -Yeah that’s bullshit but I will let it pass.- It was Daniel’s turn to frown.

-Why did you say that?- Max faced him and looked dead serious.

-Man if you could see how you were looking at her the whole night you would understand but if you said you are just friends I'm going to do that like I believe you.- Max turned his head to the left and then towards his friend who was about to answer. -Doesn't matter right now she is coming.- Daniel looked over Max’s shoulder and Tes was walking towards them with a smile on her face. -I will let you two alone.

-Hey there.- She stood in front of him. Her heels made her a little taller and her eyes were shiny. -Everything is fine?

-Yes, we were just talking. What about you? Are you having fun?- She had her hair up in an improvised bun.

-Oh yeah. Every person that I talked to was so lovely and funny. Charlotte and Charles are a pretty couple as well as Max and Kelly. I’m having a great time.- Tes was smiling, something that made Daniel smile too. They were steeps from the other thanks to the loud music, her vanilla scent mixing with his.

Tes was telling him about something she talked about with Charlotte when she took her phone from her purse and frowned. -It’s Xander.- Daniel nodded. -Xander give me a second because the music is too loud in here.- She moved her phone away from her mouth and looked at Daniel. -I will go outside to talk to him, I’ll be right back.

-I’m not gonna let you go alone, come with me.- Daniel entwined his fingers with hers. He started to realise how her skin was always cold, it didn't matter the temperature outside, her skin was cold. He liked the feeling of her cold skin against his warm one and how her hand was smaller than his. Although he could feel her behind him and her hand in his, he looked over his shoulder to make sure she was there and that he hadn't lost her in the sea of people when they were walking outside.

When they put their feets outside the night breeze caressed their skins and their ears relaxed at the contrast of the loud music in the bar with the less bustle of the street. Even though he didn't want to, Daniel let go of Tes' hand to let her take a couple steps away from him but she stayed in front of him with her phone in her ear. He looked around trying to entertain himself to not listen to her conversation with her friend but he couldn’t not look at her. The little freckles on her nose and how her makeup didn’t cover them, the mole on the left side of her chin, the scar on her forehead blending with the baby hairs there, the perfect outline of her fleshy lips and her pearly white smile until she frowned. -Are you serious Xander?- She made a little pause. -And Alex agreed with all this?- Another pause. -You couldn't have told me this before so I see how I organize myself.- She grabbed the bridge of her nose and Daniel tilted his head to the side don’t understanding a single thing. -You owe me big time for this, just so you know.- She took a deep breath. -Yeah yeah, love you too dork. Bye, have fun.- Tes hung up and shook her head.

-Everything alright?- Daniel wanted to have some kind of physical touch with her but at the same time he didn’t want to overstep.

-Yeah no.- Daniel frowned. -Nothing serious happened. Just that I have the worst roommates in the world sometimes.- Again, he didn’t understand a single thing.

-Because….- He left the sentence in the air for her to complete it.

-Because Xander asked me, actually informed me, to search for some place to crash for the night because he has a very important guest tonight and he wants nobody to disturb them.- Tes said.

-Oh.- Daniel said unsure and Tes looked at him with her eyebrows raised. -Ohhh.- Daniel nodded understanding what she meant and she laughed.

-Yes ohh.- Tes looked around. -Living with your best friends sometimes can be funny and sometimes a big pain in the ass.- It was Daniel's turn to laugh.

-You can crash at my place.- Daniel said out of the blue.

-I can’t ask you to do that.- She shook her head.

-You are not asking me, I’m offering to do it and you are going to accept.- Tes was about to say something but Daniel interrupted her. -Without a but. The other time I promised you that you could visit my place whenever you wanted and now is whenever so you are going to stay at my place.

Tes looked him in the eye and he kept his gaze. -Fine.

-That’s how I like it. Now come on.- Daniel said and stretched his hand towards her. With a little blushed on her cheeks she accepted his hand and they walked inside the bar. They said goodbye to a slightly drunk Max, to Kelly, to a drunk Charles and Charlotte and all the people they knew that got in their way from the VIP to the car.

Omer Balick songs came through the car speaker making them move their bodies in sync without planning, Daniel tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and Tes snapping her fingers at every beat of the song. The ride was short and Daniel parked the car in the garage of the building. In the elevator Tes thanked him for letting her stay there for like the millionth time. Daniel opened the door for her and let her enter first. It wasn’t extremely luxurious; on the contrary his place had that cozy home feeling, adorned with paintings on the walls. Tes walked through the corridor to the dark kitchen with the dining room, the kitchen and the living was divided with a huge fireplace that could be seen from both sides. The living room had large sofas and a flat screen, it faced the balcony with huge windows from the ceiling to the floor with a beautiful view of the Monaco harbour. -Look around all you want, I will be right back.- He put his hand on her lower back and gave her a little nod with his head encouraging her. Tes walked directly to one of the windows and opened it. The balcony had sofas, a small table and a little place to make a fire for when the nights were cold.

Soft music started to play around the place and Daniel walked in her direction with two glasses of wine in hand. -Now that I don’t have to drive I can properly drink. Here you go.- He extended the glass towards her and she accepted with a smile.

Tes took a sip and smiled delightedly. -Yours?- Daniel nodded. -This place is beautiful Dan and the view is amazing. The sunsets from here must be a dream.

-The sunsets are pretty cool from here but the view from the farm I have in Australia beats his ass.- They laughed. -I don’t have a music studio like you though but I have a couple of guitars in my studio.- Tes laughed.

-Speaking of guitars I promised you that I would teach you how to play it and the piano too.- Daniel nodded.

-Yes, but in another time. We have all the time in the world to do that.- Tes tilted her head to the side. -Now I have other plans in mind.- Tes frowned but Daniel grabbed her glass and put it on the little table next to his, then grabbed her hand and pulled her into the living room.

-What are- Tes wanted to ask but he interrupted her.

-Shhh.- Daniel waited for the song to end and the next one to start. When the new song started he pulled her by her hand to his chest and his other hand on her waist. Their fingers intertwined and her arm around his neck. -I really don’t know if we can slow dance to this but I wanted to dance with you because we didn’t do that on the bar.

Tes laughed and threw her head back, her chest vibrated with her voice. Daniel looked at her and the simple image of her smiling like that put a smile on his face immediately. They moved at the fast rhythm of the song and he twirled her and now her back was against his chest. -I will twirl you again and please don't fall because I will die of embarrassment and guilt. -She laughed again putting her head on his shoulder and thanks to the closeness he could see how the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes formed and how she scrunched her nose a little, the little details made him smile like a teenage boy. He twirl her one more time and now their lips were inches away from the other, breath mixing, eyes shining with lust and passion, the centimeters were shorter and shorter that their lips were brushing the moment was there so fucking close but the song ended and they separeted clearing their throats.

-You had a very good idea.- Tes said putting her hair behind her ear with a smile.

-Yeah. Glad you like it.- Daniel said, scratching his neck. -Come I will show you the guitars now. -He turned around and almost grabbed her hand but contained himself. Tes waited for him to grab her hand but when that never came she grabbed the two glasses and followed him around his place.

Daniel walked around the living through a corridor and went up the stairs, that were behind the living room and kitchen, looking at her from time to time and when he saw that she couldn't put a hand on the staircase railing he took his glass out of her hand and intertwined his fingers with her to guide her. Tes smiled a little from the skin skin contact and followed his steps. It had a couple of doors but Daniel entered the second one. When he opened the door, it had a wooden desk, a wall that was a glass shelf full of helmets; photos; books, a little sofa and in a corner a couple of guitars and a balcony that overlooked the other side of Monaco.

Tes walked around looking at the photos. In some of them he was with some of his best mates, other drivers, with a little blonde kid, some of him in his car of the different scuderias he was, with an old good looking couple. -This are my parents.- He said pointing at the photo Tes was looking at. -This is the little rascal I told you about in London, my sister’s son. This is my sister.- Danil pointed at the different photos. He had a nostalgic smile on his face and Tes almost caressed his face in the most tender manner but contained herself.

-You have a very beautiful family Dan.- He smiled. -I heard that Australia is planning to open up the borders in November or something like that.- Her tone was enthusiastic and contagious.

-Yeah, I heard and my mum called me the minute she heard it. She threatened me that if I don’t jump in a plane with the destination home the minute I end with this season she will kill me.- Tes laughed. -Don’t laugh. That woman is very capable of doing that.- Tes laughed a little more and he did it too.

-For the sake of your well being I advise you to do it.- He nodded with a smile. Tes took a sip of her wine and looked at the guitars. -So….you have guitars but don’t know how to play them?

Daniel looked at her face, not paying a bit of attention to where she was looking. -I never found the time to learn how to play it.

-You wanna give it a try?- Tes said with a brow raised but Daniel shook his head. -Why?

-Right now the only thing I want to do is keep talking to you with a glass of wine in the middle if that’s okay with you.- His voice was soft and his head tilted to the side while looking at her.

Tes smiled softly and nodded with her head. -I like that idea too. Lead the way, Aussie boy.- Daniel smiled happily. They walked back to the balcony and sat on the little sofas there. Daniel started a little fire to keep them warm while Tes grabbed the opened bottle of wine from the kitchen. They were sitting side by side, Tes with her legs folded to the side looking at him with her hand supporting her head while he was sitting looking at the front and his arm stretched in the sofa chair.

They shared stories from when they were younger, from how they were headaches from their parents. How Tes used to say to his dad that she was in school while she was in some record store in the city with Xander by her side listening to what was new at that moment and when his dad found out that he scolded her for some minutes and then asked her about what she listened too. She seemed so carefree in that moment, so full of life and happiness.

-The other time when I was at your house and we were at the studio in one of the walls was this phrase painted in big letters and colors that was so beautiful but I can't seem to remember it.- Daniel said, looking at her.

Tes moved her eyes thinking. -Painted on one of the walls and not framed?- Daniel nodded with his head. -The one that says “Music is what feelings sound like”.

-That one.- Daniel said. -It’s so beautiful and when I readed it was like, okay now my perspective of music has changed a little.- Tes laughed and nodded.

-Yeah, I know what you are talking about. When I told my dad that I wanted to dedicate my life to music that was the first thing that he told me.- Tes had his full attention. -It was like his law of life.

-And it’s yours too?

-Kinda.- Tes said unsure and Daniel frowned. -He said it more from the side of when you have such strong love feelings for someone, when you can't put into words properly what that person makes you feel that you have to put all that stuff in a song and the song will say what you can't. He used to tell me that my mother used to make him feel like that. And I was never on that side of the line,I could never link that phrase to that kind of feeling.

-Why? On what side of the line you were?- Daniel always asked the right questions to make her open up when she didn’t want to.

-I was always on the sad and angry side of the line. I used to take some of my feelings and put them on my songs but never completely I don’t know why. I used to be a little vague about my feelings.- Tes looked at her hands and played with a ring on one of her fingers.

Daniel saw how she was slowly starting to drift away from the present, how her face started to tinted with sad features and her eyes lost her shine. So he quickly changed the subject. He told her about his new collection of clothes and little things about what was left from the season. How he is kinda an adrenaline junkie, his passion about bikes and how he owns a kart series. Tes was so fucking mesmerized with him, with how he gesticulated when he talked, how his adam’s apple moved, his nose brigde and his tanned skin with tattoos. He was something from another world. Daniel could feel her gaze on him, how she tilted her head to the side from time to time and when he turned his head towards her she had a little smile on her lips and her cheeks a little rose. -What?- Daniel said with a smile but confused.

She shook with her head.- Nothing. Continue.- And as if it happened in slow motion Daniel watched how Tes took his glass out of his hand while looking him in the eyes and drank from it. Daniel's mouth hung a little opened thanks to the sequence and Tes frowned. -What?- Daniel swallowed hard and wet his lips with his tongue then looked at the glass in her hands. Tes seemed to finally realise what she had done. -I’m sorry it was your glass. Sorry, for real, it wasn’t my intention.- She gave it back to him wanting to die from embarrassment.

She kept apologizing while the only thing that ran through Daniel’s mind was how fucking sexy that was. How her lips were a little glossy thanks to the wine and how her pretty face shined with the fire near them. It was now or never, he couldn't wait any longer. So he leaned and put the glass in the table next to them and in a matter of seconds he grabbed her face in his hand and stamped his lips on hers shutting her up.

Tes stood still there with her eyes opened big and hands froze mid air while his soft lips were on hers. She could see from up close his long lashes and the baby curls in his forehead. His beard tickled against her skin a little. Yes, it wasn’t the perfect reaction. Daniel was mentally cursing himself for the stupid impulsive idea he had and when he decided to lean back Tes reacted and kissed him back. The teenage boy in Daniel’s head jumped and celebrated in his head because she did more than stop him, the girl he liked was kissing him back. His hand in her neck and his thump caressing her jawline while the other was on the sofa back. Her arm around his neck bringing him impossibly closer. They parted slightly and his tongue slipped inside her mouth, the taste of the wine they were drinking on their lips. His free arm hugged her by the waist and put her in his lap, her legs at his sides straddling him. Her vanilla scent was closer than ever, he could feel it all around him inviding his senses. Her skin was soft as well as her lips, her fingertips running through the nape of his neck and he felt little sparkles everywhere her fingers passed. He could feel the body chains on her chest against his. They had to separate because they haven’t any air left on their lungs.

-I’m sorry. I didn't want to overstep or make you uncomfortable.- Daniel said in a low tone and when he talked his lips brushed against hers. That close they were.

Tes felt the ghost of his lips against hers and she had to contain herself to not touch her lips like a thirteen year old girl that had kissed the boy she liked for the first time. -It's not that, I like the kiss. A lot actually but I...I…- Her brain was still all over the place and couldn't properly understand what just had happened. Daniel saw how she closed her eyes, moved her head from side to side slowly and swallowed hard. -It’s just that I...I

Daniel moved his hands from her waist to her neck and caressed her cheeks. He smiled softly. -Hey look at me.- Tes opened her eyes. They were shiny and her swollen lips made him want to kiss her more. -It’s okay. I like the kiss a lot too.- She smiled a little. -I think we should go to sleep, it’s a little late.

Tes nodded with her head. -Yeah I think so too.- Daniel brought her closer to him and kissed her forehead.

-Come on.- He lifted her from his lap and put her on the floor as if she weighed nothing. -I will sleep in the guest room, you can take my bed.- He said while they went up the stairs.

-Not this again.- Tes said in a low tone but he listened to her and laughed.

-The guest room is diagonal from my room so whatever you need I’m just a few meters away.- Daniel continued explaining.

-You are going to give me a headache Daniel. I’m not gonna make you not sleep in your own bed. You are going to sleep on your bed and I will take the guest room. Like you just said I will be a few meters away so no problem.- They looked in the eyes and a staring battle began. Tes looked at him from her eyelashes and the only coherent thought Daniel had was kissing her again. It seemed that he became an addict from just one single kiss.

-Fine.- Daniel said and Tes smiled. -But whatever you need you call me okay?- She nodded. -It’s that one, I will be right back.- He pointed to one door and a clear color room was there. A big bed, a TV and a bathroom. Simple but effective. Tes looked around and Daniel entered the room with clothes in his hand. -I brought you clothes because I don’t think sleeping in that dress will be comfortable.- He put the clothes in the bed, she smiled and thanked him.

She walked closer to him, stranded on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. -Thank you for a great night Dan.

-Thank you too. Have a good night.- He smiled, put her hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek too.

He left her alone in the room to let her change her clothes. Tes stood in front of the bathroom mirror looking at herself. The t-shirt Daniel gave her reached just five fingers below her ass and the shorts he gave her were from his collection. She went to bed with a little smile on her face and a calm feeling on her chest, just like Daniel in the other room.

Daniel was sleeping peacefully when some noises woke him up, they were like little cries and mumbling. Still a little sleepy he sat on the bed and made silence trying to figure out where they were coming from. He opened his door and the little cries were louder and desperate and they were coming from the room where Tes was staying so Daniel walked there and opened the door. She was moving her head from side to side desperately, she was frowning and mumbling something in the lines of “Let me go” “Please let me go” and “No, don't go”. He walked towards her and woke her up.

-Hey Tes, wake up.- He moved her shoulder just a little but she was still immersed in her awful dream. He tried again, this time a little rough and she opened her eyes. -It’s okay, you are okay.- His tone was soft but he could see, even in the dark of the room, that her eyes were widened and full of fear.

Tes started to look around frantically and when she seemed to see Daniel sitting on the edge of the bed her breath started to become more irregular. Daniel frowned when she sat with her back against the hardware of the bed trying to be the further away possible from him. He moved slowly away showing her his hands and turned on the light by the side of the bed. Her eyes landed on him but her breath was still uneven. -Just breathe baby, breathe.- Daniel inhaled and exhaled loudly and moved his hands while he was doing it for her to match him.

But Tes put her trembling hand in her chest and tried to press against it. -I…..I…..I can’t.- Her tone was broken and tears started to form in her eyes making her vision more blurred so when Daniel sat in front of her once again she couldn't see him but she felt when he took the hand that was on her chest and intertwined his fingers with hers.

Daniel’s heart clenched at seeing her soft and beautiful features full of fear. Tes opened her mouth big trying to seek for any kind of air and Daniel moved closer. -Okay, baby I think you are having a panic attack.- She wasn't even listening to him because she could sense her blood pudding in her ears.

She could sense him in front of her but Tes eyes were lost in the sheets at the bottom of the bed. Her eyes went from the door behind Daniel to the sheets to her trembling legs. Her head was so lost in her thoughts, so deep in her fears and memories. -It's destroying me. I can't live like this. I can't.- She was talking to herself but Daniel frowned when he heard her words. What the hell was she talking about? What was destroying her?

Either way he tried to calm her down. -Squeeze my hand baby.- Daniel gave her a little squeeze and she did it back.

His other hand moved her hair away from her face and drew little circles in her back trying to calm her down. His body closer to hers, his scent invading her nostrils, and after a couple minutes her breaths started to become normal. -I’m going to get you some water.

Tes shook her head. -Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone, please.- Her voice was broken and her eyes carried a silent prayer that he did not intend to break any time soon.

-Okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.- So he continued his movements in her back and she didn't seem to let go of his hand in any second. She leaned against him. Her head in his chest listening to his heart. The normal beat of his heart and his scent calms her completely. -Come, I will make you some tea.

Daniel got up from the bed and waited for her to do the same. Their hands together and they walked from the bedroom to the kitchen. He indicated to her with his head to sit on the kitchen counter and she did as he told her. While he boiled the water she had her eyes fixed on how her hanging feets moved a little.

-I’m sor- Tes tried to say.

-Don’t- Daniel cut her quickly. -You don’t have to be sorry for anything.

-Yes. I woke you up at five in the fucking morning thanks to a shitty nightmare I had.- Tes hid her face in her hands.

-I glad you woke me up, because otherwise you would have to suffer that alone and- It was Tes's turn to interrupt him.

-It’s not only that Dan. I’m sorry for everything. For waking you up, for you to have to see me like that, for you to have to go out to look for me the other day, for the fucking article, for all the mess I am and for all the things I didn’t do but I’m so fucking sure I will do even if I dont want to. I’m so fucking sorry for bringing all this mess to you life and...and...and- Daniel looked at her shookig his head.

-Hey, don’t say that. Don’t even think about it.- He pulled her into his chest.

She started sobbing in his chest. -I’m sorry Dan.- He rocked their bodies from side to side a little trying to calm her down, again.

-Everything is going to be alright Tes. Don’t worry.- He said kissing the crown of her head.

They stayed like that for a while. The tea long forgotten. Tes was with her eyes closed loving the feeling of his heart against her ear. His scent involved her and how his chest went up and down with his soft breaths. How his body was between her legs and how his fingers were massaging her scalp. Daniel was looking how the sun started to rise through his balcony letting some rays enter and adorned the beautiful scene. Her arms around his waist and her calm breaths. How perfectly her body fit with his.

He could definitely get used to that, he wanted to get used to that. Dancing with her in the living room after a night out with his friends, a glass of wine in the middle, Monaco nights below them. Her lips on his. Her body on top of his. Mornings with her with the sun entering through the window. He could picture everything and more with her. The little problem here was if she could picture everything with him, if she felt the same way as he.

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