#in the wake of finals.....id like this egg yes
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can I offer you a nice egg in this trying time?
#anza the parrotlet#parrotlet#parrot#bird#birds#birb#birblr#in the wake of finals.....id like this egg yes
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The Five Scares (and one revenge)
Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Swearing
Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Having a tendency to scare people, Corpse has gotten used to his friends being jumpy whenever he appears from the void into a Discord call with them. However, the one who has it the roughest with the spooks has to be his partner Y/N.
Basically: The five times Corpse scared Y/N and the one time they scared him
Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your lovely request it was a real joy to write and I had a ton of fun doing so! Hope you have equally as wonderful of a time if you happen to come across it and give it a read despite the long wait you’ve had to endure which I apologize for. Love, Vy ❤
I
Having had to go home for the night to keep an eye on their roommate’s dog, Y/N and Corpse agreed to have a video call before they fell asleep. They didn’t want to appear like that typical clingy and cheesy couple but after spending almost a whole week curled up in Corpse’s apartment, the two would feel each other’s absence to a very saddening degree to the point where they’d even forget the other isn’t around and would call out to them.
Letting the call ring, Y/N’s hand comes up to smooth out their hair. However, the touch reveals to them that their hair needs a bit more than a simple tap or a pat to be tamed so while they wait for Corpse to answer the call, they quickly head to their bathroom. Flicking the light on, their reflection greets them with the underwhelming news of the actual state of their hair at the moment: an absolute mess.
They proceed to do their best with the single hair-tie they have handy. A bobby pin or two would be neat but they have no time to go and grab one right now, seeing as how they can’t recall if they even brought them back from Corpse’s apartment. If they didn’t, they would have to search their roommate’s room for some which would take an even longer amount of time.
Eventually, they manage to tame it in something closely resembling a presentable ponytail and exit the bathroom feeling more exhausted than before. With a loud sigh, they crash onto their bed, face-first into the sea of pillows, groaning at the slight sting of their muscles relaxing at last.
“Y/N?“ The decently loud mention of their name by a deep, familiar yet sudden and unexpected voice startles them to the point of squealing and jumping an entire inch away from where they were positioned.
They look around their room in a frenzy, wondering where on Earth that voice came from and how it could be here with them right now.
“Y/N, you there?”, before they could locate it, it emerges once again, helping Y/N get an ide of where it’s coming from - somewhere in the messed up bed sheets.
“Corpse?“ They finally find their voice, “Y-yeah I’m here. Question is: how are you...“ and then it all clicks, causing them to twist their face in an expression of utter disappointment and bury it in the palms of their hands, groaning.
“You forgot about the video chat, didn’t you?“ Corpse asks, amusement not even attempted to be hidden in his voice.
“Yup.“
II
It’s been one hell of a day. Y/N’s college lectures exhausted them to a max and their six hour job following their classes did nothing to help them AT ALL. Quite the opposite actually. Makes sense why they look, move and talk the way they’re doing right now: like a ghost, zombie and an elder combined in one. To add to their misfortunes for the day, they were met with the mocking ‘OUT OF ORDER’ sign taped to the doors of the elevator, laughing in their face with the information that their hellish experience for the day is far from over.
Just the thought of having to climb to the fifth floor made their stomach turn in the most unpleasant way possible, but the though of how long that would take made matters even worse. Arriving at their designated apartment, they have every right to be pissed, cussing their heart out.
However, then comes a new problem: the inability to pinpoint the correct key. They proceed to curse themselves, the keys, the door handle and the door itself before punching the poor wood that did no wrong and just stands here, serving its purpose of keeping unwanted people out of the apartment it’s guarding.
Following their anger outburst and front-door-abuse, they proceed to try finding the correct key once again, this time slightly more calmly as to not accidentally miss it in their frantic rifling.
Right as they’re about to try the third key, however, the door opens. Well, it’s opened by someone on the other side, that someone being none other than their boyfriend Corpse who’s currently staring at them wide-eyed, one eyebrow raised, the word ‘confused’ basically written across his face.
While he’s processing the sight in front of him, Y/N lets out a little scream, jumping back and away from the door, a hand placed over their chest as their wide eyes scan their boyfriend who now seems equally terrified as a result of their reaction.
“Corpse?!“ They manage to gasp, barely hearing their own voice over the loud thumping of their heart and the rush of blood in their ears, “What the hell are you doing here?!“
The confusion on Corpse’s face deepens, reaching whole new levels as his eyes gaze deeper into theirs, searching for the meaning behind their bizarre question.
“You mean...at my own apartment? What am I doing, at home?“
For a few seconds, the two just stare blankly at one another, processing everything that’s just happened. Suddenly, it all just kinda caves for Y/N and they burst out laughing, doubling over, their arms clutching at their stomach as they do so. Their laughter is contagious, so Corpse can’t help but let out a few chuckles himself.
“Alright, you’ve been driven to insanity, I can tell.“ He mumbles at his reckless partner, coming up behind them and wraps his arms around them, lifting them up and carrying their laughing ass inside.
III
Finally deciding to sit down and get this damn project started, Y/N already feels like they’ve had enough of it, burnout already creeping in and threatening to ruin their work and trip them up every step of the way. It wouldn’t have been so bad had the subject not been one they absolutely despise and wish they could get out of studying but alas they’re stuck with it.
They equip their headphones as soon as they plant their butt on the desk chair in their tiny room in their tiny roommate-shared apartment, putting their Spotify playlist on shuffle as they open a blank Power Point document. They work better with music blasting in their ears since the silence tends to be too loud and distracting when they’re trying to focus. So, that way they can also sing their heart out in peace and not get disturbed by the sound of their own off-key singing. Win-win, basically.
Singing ‘Never Forget You’ by Zara Larsson and MNEK, they get a little carried away, ditching the project to enter a full-blown music video they can imagine down to the detail in their mind.
However, there’s a surprise awaiting them.
As soon as MNEK’s part of the song begins, another voice apart from his echoes through their headphones, singing along to the song. Freaking the fuck out, they let out a loud scream, smacking the headset off them, sending the object falling and landing on their laptop keyboard with a crash that only serves to further startle their roommate’s dog which comes to check if they are being attacked or something only to be disappointed by the lack of action.
When pushing the headphones off, they did so with a force strong enough to snap the cable out of the laptop entirely so now the room is filled with the sound of that same foreign voice laughing his ass off.
A voice that belongs to no other than Corpse Husband himself.
“You gotta learn to disconnect from Discord calls, Y/N.“ The fucker says, still cackling wholeheartedly at his partner’s misery.
Pissed off or not, Y/N would have to admit he’s got a point. But they’d also rather never speak again than admit it so...
“Fuck you!“ is what they say instead, seconds before disconnecting.
IV
Making breakfast is not something either Corpse or Y/N are used to, mostly cause they both either wake up late or skip the meal entirely. Regardless, having been given a day off from work and having no classes since it’s Saturday, Y/N saw no better way to start their day off than to prepare a nice breakfast for them and their boyfriend to enjoy. Problem is: they aren’t the most skilled in the kitchen. Sure they can scramble an egg or make mac and cheese, but in order to do it correctly they are not allowed to have distractions of any kind. Not even music, that’s how you know it’s serious.
Seeing as how Corpse has never seen them cook, he’s obviously unaware of theirs. The dummy straight up waltzes into the kitchen, unintentionally remaining unspotted and unheard by Y/N because he’s barefoot and because they have their back turned to him.
“Whatya cooking over there babe?“
Y/N’s focus bubble, being as thin as it is and considering they initially thought Corpse was still asleep, they have every right to let out the yelp they just did, dropping the egg they were gonna crack over the pan in said pan in its entirety - yes, shell and all.
A moment of silence commences: regretful on Corpse’s end and frustrated on theirs. Neither of them dares to say anything to avoid triggering the other. Well, that’s the case until Y/N decides enough’s enough and they turn to look at him, a wide, obviously fake smile plastered onto their face.
“Scrambled eggs, following a secret recipe, property of the L/N family.“
Seems like your pre-breakfast snack is an extra large dose of sarcasm, huh?
V
“So, how was your day? You sound pretty chipper so I take it wasn’t a nightmare like a few days ago.“ Corpse comments over the phone, listening to shuffling and shifting as Y/N moves around the apartment, getting ready to head out.
“It was great actually. Got some important results back and, not to brag or anything, but they were higher than I expected.“ They reply, a genuine wide grin refusing to leave their face as they silently count the amount of money they’ve got in their wallet. “I’m gonna go buy a cake so we can celebrate it. It’s no small deal, trust me, especially not when I initially thought I’d fail both these exams to the point of being pitied.“
“Wait...-“ Corpse attempts, his voice suddenly sounding strained and urgent but that’s the very reason he cannot seem to find or get the right words out of his system. Not that Y/N gives him any time to figure it out.
“No Corpse, you cannot change my mind. Cake and beers, we’re celebrating toni- SHIT!“ They scream as they throw open the front door, bumping square into someone standing on the other side, almost dropping their phone.
Taken aback by embarrassment and fear, they leap back, their eyes searching for the ones of the person whose personal space they just invaded. Well, to be fair, he was the one invading their personal space by standing right outside the door to their - well, to Corpse’s apartment.
The fear and irritation die down almost instantly when Y/N recognizes the person standing opposite them.
“Mind telling me why we’re talking on the phone when you could’ve come in and we could’ve had a normal person conversation?!“ They snap, ironically enough - they’re still holding the phone to their ear.
So is Corpse whos is smiling guiltily, “That’s why I called, I forgot my keys, but I got...carried...sorry.”
Well, at least this serves as proof Y/N’s not the only forgetful one.
~ ~ ~
Corpse has been stuck in his recording room for four hours now, never stopping his stream to take care of his basic human needs such as eating or going to the bathroom. This behavior of his has Y/N worried sick and unable to focus on the task at hand - an assignment they’ve been trying to finish for two hours now, sitting with their computer on their lap and looking hopelessly at the blank Word document waiting for them to fill it up while they are waiting for it to start writing itself.
Seeing as how neither are gonna happen, not until Y/N puts their mind at ease, they slowly put the laptop aside, standing up to carefully skip on over to Corpse’s recording room to check on him, stopping by the kitchen to grab him a snack and a bottle of water along the way.
The door to the darkened room is open a crack, as usual, suggesting they can enter without knocking - this also means he’ll probably not hear them even if they knock so the whole gesture would be pointless. Not that Y/N has a tendency to knock or anything...
Waltzing in, they find that the only light in the room is the very faint and dark glow of the computer screen which is displaying a dark and dingy room from a first-person view of the protagonist of whatever game Corpse’s currently playing.
“Corpse?!“ They whisper-yell/hiss at him, trying their best to grasp his attention without startling him - they don’t need to be told that the game is of the horror genre and the last thing they need is for their boyfriend to flip backwards and fall out of his chair because they scared the shit out of him. “Hey?!“
Neither attempts prove futile so, despite their best instincts telling them differently, they walk over to him and tap him on the shoulder.
The reaction, while within the realm of expectancy, is a lot more startled than they expected, accompanied by a scream on top of all. They’d never heard him scream in fear before, it’s quite amusing if they’re being honest.
They suppress a snicker as Corpse’s wide open eyes meet their squinting ones in the darkness, “Y/N...babe...what is it? Is everything ok?”
Y/N rolls their eyes, “No, everything isn’t ok. Your unhealthy habit of forgetting to take care of yourself, for example.” They put the snack and the bottle on the his desk, giving him their best disappointed-parent look before turning on their heel to strut their way out of the room. However, just as they are about to make their exit, they stop right at the doorframe, giving their stunned one final glance over their shoulder with a smug smirk playing across their face, “Oh and by the way, that’s what I like to call revenge.” Just like that, they leave, pushing the door back into its previous position.
And boy, is it some sweet, sweet revenge.
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Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 2 | Be Careful with Clive, I Have Grown Attached to Him
A/N: Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed). It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will. Keep your hate to yourself.
SERIES MASTERLIST HERE
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)
Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt. Tom has an idea to solve all their problems. Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts. Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else. In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?
This Chapter: Tom and Molly are now married. Surprise! These two talk about the logistics of Tom’s half-baked plan. And Molly moves to London to face the firing squad, aka the paparazzi.
Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of: child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.
TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED! THANK YOU FOR READING!
–
After they signed the license along with the apostille, there had been dancing. That much Molly remembered. And drinking. Specifically drinking champagne. Tom danced with abandon, pulling Molly into the whirlwind of activity he created around him.
But now it was morning, and Molly woke up in a bed that wasn’t her own. She groaned as her head pounded, having forgotten that champagne and her have a love-hate relationship. Molly saw the faint outline of Tom asleep on the couch, his long body stretched out, still wearing his suit from last night. After glancing at the alarm clock, Molly fell back asleep.
Several hours, Molly woke up again and headed to the bathroom, not noticing the now opened curtains.
“Hey good lookin, Whatcha got cookin,” Tom’s voice twanged as he stepped out of the shower. His head pounded a bit, but not the worst hangover he had.
“AHHH!!!” Molly screamed as she stepped into the bathroom.
They both froze, which was more embarrassing for Tom, as at least Molly was still wearing her dress from last night.
“You’re naked.” Molly blinked, her head darting around the room until she focused on an interesting corner of the room.
Tom chuckled, grabbing a towel and wrapping it loosely around his waist. “I don’t normally shower in my clothes. You can look back now.”
She slowly turned back around. “Sorry.” She shuffled her feet. “I should have knocked.”
“It’s quite alright.” He moved towards the door. “Shower is yours and we should talk things over.”
Molly nodded. “We should.”
While Molly showered, Tom dressed in the other room. After finding a clean t-shirt for Molly to wear over her dress until she could change, he called the airlines and changed his single ticket for that morning to a later flight for two, fishing Molly’s ID out of her wallet.
“Thanks for the shirt.” she stepped out.
“It looks good on you.” Tom gestured to the sofa. “Sit. Would you like some breakfast?” Her stomach growled. They both laughed. “That would be a yes.” Tom shoved the room service menu. “Order what you like.”
She selected an egg white frittata while Tom got the pancakes. Tom put in the order and returned his attention to Molly.
“So let’s talk about how this will work.” Tom shifted in his seat.
“An excellent idea. You mentioned living together in London. When do we leave?”
“This afternoon.”
Molly coughed. “That quick?”
“I’m afraid so.” Tom’s hands fidgeted in his lap. She noticed he was still wearing the spider ring. “I have work obligations back home and in order for it to be believable you would need to live with me.”
“Naturally.” Molly slapped her thighs. “So after breakfast, I can head back to my apartment, pack up what little I have, say goodbye to my roommate, and change into appropriate clothing. And you need to get us some proper rings.” She waved her hot pink ring in the air. “Unless of course you intend for your bride to wear a ring from the top of a cupcake.”
“Only if I get to keep my ring. I’ve grown quite attached to Clive.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You named the spider?”
“Yes.” There was a knock on the door. “That will be the food. Allow me.” He disappeared and returned shortly with a rolling table, ladened with food. Tom poured a cup of coffee and offered one to Molly.
“I don’t drink coffee.”
“I can have them bring up a teapot.”
“I’m pretty sure there are some complimentary ones in the room. Now,” She cut into her food and took a bite. “how will everything else work? Living with you, your life, the paparazzi? That is the whole point of this charade.”
“You do get down to business. So yes, I would expect you to live in my home. In a separate bedroom, I can set up another room as an office for you. We would need to attend events together and generally appear as a loving couple on the outside.”
“And my debts? That is part of the deal, right?”
“Right,” Tom gazed over at her while eating his pancakes. “I would assume the payments while we are together, and after the divorce is final, I would pay off any balance. I would also take care of your daily expenses while we are married. You are welcome to work if you want, but I will give you spending money.”
“So I would be a trophy wife?” Her brown eyes glinted.
Tom waved his hands in front of him. “Not that is not what I meant… I…”
“I am kidding, Tom. If you prefer, I can not work. I don’t mind. Give me some time to figure things out.” A thought came to her. “What about…” Molly searched for the words. “… other needs? Or if you wish to engage in a romantic relationship?” Her cheeks blushed as the words fell out of her mouth.
Tom blushed as well. “I have great self-control and I think if either of us get to that point, we can discuss it. I don’t want you to feel trapped.”
“And I don’t want you to be trapped either. I guess that is as good of an answer I could expect. Anything you want to ask me?”
Tom stared at Molly. The air hung heavy. “Do you regret saying yes?”
“No. Do you regret asking?”
“No.”
Molly downed the rest of her juice. “Well then, it is all settled. I am going to take off to pack. And you have some shopping to do. My ring size is a 7.”
Tom finished up the last bite of pancakes. “Right. We need to leave here by 3 to make it to the airport.”
“I shouldn’t be more than a few hours. Do you have a key to the room I could borrow?”
Tom fished one out of his discarded jacket’s pocket. “Here I will have the front desk make me another one.”
She tapped the key against her nails. “Thanks, Tom. For the help and for being a decent guy.”
“I should be thanking you.”
“You already have.” She grabbed her purse and headed out the door.
-
Tom headed downstairs, asked the front desk for a new key to the room, and also inquired where the nearest jewelry store might be. The front clerk handed him a key and directed him to a small collection of luxury stores in the hotel. He found Tiffanys and purchased a classic platinum solitaire engagement ring and plain platinum band for Molly and a yellow gold band for himself.
Molly wasn’t back when he returned, so he set about packing up for the flight. His phone buzzed. Luke.
It appears you had a good time in Vegas. The papers say you are drowning your sorrows. Looks like the story is here to stay. Call me when you wake up from your nap at home.
Tom typed back.
I did have a good time. I have a feeling the papers will soon find another story soon. Still in Vegas, taking a later flight. Talk to you soon.
His phone rang. He clicked it off, seeing it was Luke. Rather to get all the yelling done in person. The door opened and Molly came in, dragging a suitcase behind.
“Sorry! My roommate had questions.”
“So does my publicist.”
Tom took in Molly for the first time, really. Outside of the light of a casino floor. And not in a wedding dress purchased for fifty dollars on the way to the chapel. She wore faded jeans, a pair of beat up black Converse and a boxy white tee tucked in. A large black cardigan tucked under her arm. Dark hair in a bun. Quite lovely, if Tom told the truth.
“Are you in some sort of trouble?” Her brows knitted together.
“Not yet.” Tom tucked his phone into his jean pocket. “Here.” He pulled out the little blue bag.
Molly gasped. “I thought you would go buy some costume jewelry. This is too much.”
“Nonsense. This marriage may be fake, but the jewelry will be real.” Tom opened up the boxes. “May I do the honors?”
Molly held out her hand, and Tom slipped off the plastic ring before replacing it with the wedding set. “Much better. And yours?”
Tom slapped the box into her hand. “Be careful with Clive.” Molly pursed her lips as she pulled off the spider ring and replaced it with the gold band, putting the plastic ring in the Tiffanys box. “Here you go. Clive’s new home.”
Tom tucked the box into his luggage. “Ready to go?”
Molly rocked back on her heels. “Yep.”
Tom held out his arm. “Let’s go home, Mrs. Hiddleston.”
-
The flight back was uneventful, Molly and Tom dozed off, leaning against each other for support. Molly woke up first. She stared down at her rings. This was not how she expected this weekend going. Molly thought she would scrap together enough tips to make an extra payment on her credit card. Not flying to London with a Tiffany diamond ring on her finger and a famous actor as her husband.
“Life does throw you curveballs from time to time.”
“What was that, darling?” Tom muttered, stretching in his seat.
“Just commenting on the craziness of all of this to myself.” She held out her hand again. Tom laced his fingers with hers.
“I have done the same thing myself. Now when we land, there will probably be paparazzi around. Are you up for getting this whole thing off and running?”
Molly perked up. “What do I need to do?”
-
Tom tightly gripped Molly’s hand throughout the concourse and baggage claim. They eyed the doors.
“Ready?” she asked, squeezing his hand.
“I promise to be gentle.” Tom squeezed back, smiling.
As they stepped through the doors, Tom flashed a killer smile and Molly did as well, giggling as his arm wrapped around her waist. He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. Molly melted against him, making sure her rings were visible as she cupped his cheek. She was right, Tom was an excellent kisser. After making sure any photographers had plenty of time to snap a pic, they parted.
“Think they got my good side?” Molly giggled.
“Do you have a bad side?” Tom asked.
“Just wait and see. Now take me home, darling!” She threw her arm over her eyes dramatically.
“Drama queen.” Tom pinched her side.
-
Tom’s home was cozy and clean. Definitely a bachelor’s home, as evidenced by the empty fridge except for a few bottles of beer and some questionable brown sauce.
“I can go shopping later.” Tom dragged a toe along the kitchen floor.
“I can go shopping later.” She reached up and smacked his face playfully. “What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t feed my husband?”
“Fair point. I will call the bank tomorrow and get a card in your name. Just run any big purchases past me first. And we will need to get your name changed, passport, etc. I can have someone help you.” Tom prattled on.
“Why don’t you show me the rest of the place first?”
Tom held out his arm. “This way.”
Tom’s book collection was impressive along with his collection of movies.
“I clear some space if you need it.”
“I only packed clothes. My roommate is selling the rest, including my car and wiring me the money.”
“Oh.” Tom’s face fell. “Let me show you the bedrooms.”
He showed you a small guest room. “This could be an office for you and next door is a bigger bedroom for you.” Tom hustled along the hallway to open the next door. “Here.”
It was a bigger room with a queen bed and a wardrobe. Spare and clearly used for company.
“It will do just fine. And the bathroom is across the hall which is nice. Where’s your room?”
Tom made his way to the end of the hall and opened the door to his room, decorated in tones of grey and navy. A large king sized bed taking up most of the room along with a dresser. A bathroom en suite and a small closet completed the space.
“Very nice. Do you mind if I steal the color palette to decorate my room?”
“Please do. I never got around to decorate it. My sisters and mother are the only ones who stay in there.”
Molly paled a bit. She hadn’t thought about Tom’s family. “I supposed I will meet them soon.”
“I supposed so. It would be odd for my wife not to meet them. I hadn’t thought about it.”
Molly rocked back and forth. “Now why don’t I go shopping and you unpack and relax?”
“I would feel better if I came with you. You are in a different country, a strange city. And what if you have problems with the card?”
“Then let’s go and you can point out some of your favorite foods.”
“It’s a deal.”
-
“When I said pick out your favorite foods, I didn’t expect it to be only sweets. Did I marry a seven-year-old?”
“I’m 35, thank you. and I enjoy those sweets.”
“You eat like a college frat boy.”
“Guilty.”
“That is definitely changing now that I am around. You can’t continue to eat like that. There are things called vegetables.”
Tom snapped his fingers. “I’ve heard of those.”
“Get out of here!” Molly swatted at him. “I am certain you have things to attend to, and I need to familiarize myself with the kitchen.”
“Are you kicking me out of my kitchen?”
“Our kitchen. And yes.” Molly smirked.
“I yield! I yield. I’ll be in my study if you need me.” Tom walked out of the kitchen and towards his study.
He spied his phone sitting on the desk, still off from the flight. By now, any pictures should have been posted somewhere. Tom collapsed into his desk chair and clicked the phone on. While he waited for it to start up, he could overhear Molly puttering about in the kitchen, muttering to herself as she put away the groceries.
Buzz. Ten messages and eleven missed calls. He didn’t bother to listen to them and instead dialed Luke.
“Luke, I’m back in town. Thought I wou—” Tom started in as soon as Luke picked up.
“I WASN’T FUCKING SERIOUS WHEN I SAID TO GET MARRIED??! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?!”
Tom pulled the phone away from his ear. “No, I haven’t. But I am married. To a wonderful girl. Her name is Molly. Molly Bishop. You should meet her, Luke.”
“YOU ARE FUCKING RIGHT I’LL MEET HER. AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! SHE CAN HELP IDENTIFY YOUR BODY, THOMAS!” Luke continued to scream on the phone.
“Can you dial back the volume, Luke? I would like to preserve my hearing. Is there something wrong with marrying the woman I love?”
Luke cleared his throat. Tom understood Luke was doing his best to collect himself. “Apologies. There is nothing wrong with marrying the woman you love, Tom. Nothing at all. Except I don’t think you love this woman, since until a few weeks ago you were in love with—”
“Don’t say her name, it will ruin my marital bliss. I’m a hopeless romantic, Luke.”
“Hopeless, yes. Romantic, the jury is still out. And your fans don’t count, they are blinded by you. But I see the truth.”
“Which is?”
“You are not as smart as you think you are.”
“Did any of the articles mention her?” Tom inquired, spinning his wedding band on his finger.
“No.”
“Then I am exactly as smart as I think I am.”
There was a clatter from the kitchen.
“Tom!” Molly called out. “I need your help.”
“Got to go, Luke. My wife needs my help.” Tom emphasized the word “wife.”
“This isn’t over, Tom.”
“It never is. Bye.”
More clattering and another cry. “Tom!”
Tom rushed into the kitchen to find Molly perched on top of the kitchen counter, reaching high into a cabinet.
“Why is everything so high in here?”
Tom chuckled and reached around her, pressing his torso against her back. Molly jumped for a moment at the touch.
“I’m not used to sharing my space. I’m six two, I put things where I can reach them. What are you grabbing?”
“The roasting pan.”
Tom pulled it down and placed it on the counter. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it.
“Thank you. Well, I am five six, so unless you want me climbing counters for the next year, we need to rearrange some things.”
“But you’re so cute climbing around like a little monkey.”
Molly frowned. “Is that supposed to be a compliment? If so, then try again.”
Tom opened his mouth and closed it. “I’ll pull things down after dinner.”
“Thank you.” She rubbed his arm. “Now to try my hand at a roast dinner. Did you get stuff done?”
His phone buzzed again.
“I called my publicist. The pictures posted.” Tom pulled out his phone to shut it off.
“Oh good. So I take it, I had the desired effect.” Molly crunched on a carrot and offered one to Tom, who wrinkled his nose.
The two of you. My office 8 a.m. tomorrow. No excuses. I want to meet the blushing bride.
Tom frowned at the screen.
“It would appear so. I suggest you go to bed early because you are meeting Luke, my publicist tomorrow.”
Molly’s mouth fell open. “Should I be worried?”
Tom smiled at her. “No, I should be.”
#tom hiddleston#tom hiddleston fanfiction#tom hiddleston fanfic#tom hiddleston imagine#tom hiddleston fluff#tom hiddleston x ofc#tom hiddleston angst#tom hiddleston smut#accidently married
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Lotsa Latkes Fun
Pairing: James ‘Bucky’ Barnes x Jewish Female Reader
Summary: Bucky loves to cook, and he really loves to cook with you.
Warnings: 18+ Smut, sex, little bit of dirty talk but not really
Word Count: 2,469
A/N: Happy fourth night of Chanukah. Kind of let myself get away with this one haha. Thank you to the amazing @threeminutesoflife for helping me with Festival of Smut ides and @sagechanoafterdark for making sure my writing makes sense lol
If there was one thing Bucky loved to do post-mission it was to cook. After a good shower and maybe a nap depending on how taxing a mission Bucky loved to get in the kitchen and cook. The best was when it was something he hadn’t ever cooked or eaten before. Even better if he was cooking with you.
The two of you had been together for a short amount of time but it seemed like forever to Bucky. In the best of ways. Your calming demeanor a much-needed reprieve from the chaos the rest of his life brought. Cooking with you reminded him of being with Steve on the battlefield. The two of you in sync and always anticipating where the other was going without saying a word.
He was rather excited waking up from today’s nap knowing you would be coming over to show him how to make Latkes. Looking at the clock Bucky couldn’t help the rush of excitement. When the minute hand ticked by and the sun kept lowering he began to become nervous. He knew you wanted to have the Latkes cooked and ready for sunset.
Resting his hand in the palm of his metal hand he tried to calm himself and not call you just yet. There was still plenty of time he reassured himself, he was just anxious to spend time with you.
When he heard the steps outside his apartment door come closer and then the jingling of keys entering the lock he knew it was you. Trying to act like he was not waiting the past hour or more like a lovesick puppy he jumped onto the couch grabbing the first thing he could to fake read.
“I’m so sorry motek,” you rush in shutting and locking the door behind you to keep the cold out before you lug your giant bag full of goodies to the kitchen looking around for your geriatric counter partner. Catching him reading a magazine. One you were pretty sure you left last time.
“Enjoying that issue of Vogue?” An eyebrow lifted at him as he looked at the magazine he grabbed. Couldn’t have been the latest issue of Bon Appetit he bought at a stand the other day, nope had to be your fashion magazine the one he grabbed.
“I was smelling the cologne?” You roll your eyes, Bucky setting it down and leaping over the couch one-handed. Wrapping you up in his arms he feels the winter chill on you, his hands rubbing your back to push his warmth through you.
Curling your arms under his to grip his shoulders from behind you lift for the expected kiss that Bucky certainly delivers. The plush connection doing more than enough to warm you up. Soft kisses, and a playful growl when you nip his bottom lip are enough to wash away any leftover fervid feelings over your delay.
“Let’s get cookin’ hot mama,” Bucky lets go of you to grab your overweight bag with ease. Placing it on the kitchen counter he starts emptying and you grab the menorah and candles to set them on his coffee table for later.
After the two of you move around the kitchen together getting items together you rejoin to peel the giant bag of potatoes. Bucky pauses to question your recipe.
“So you just know how much?” Nodding your head you pass him another potato to peel.
“Just how many potatoes do you need? The whole bag or some of them?" He keeps on, wanting to learn the recipe you seemed to not know how to explain. "Yes," your only response.
“We’re using yellow onions in the food processor as well, they can be pretty powerful. How do you know when enough is enough?” Pausing you turn your body to him and put the peeler on your cheek. “When I say we do?”
“That’s not helpful,” he huffs, cutting the yellow onions into quarters after you handed them to him. “Where is the recipe from?”
“My mom’s head, who got it from her great aunt’s head and now it’s in my head.” Bucky shakes his own head starting to cut the potatoes in half to fit in the food processor.
“Not every recipe is just x amount of cups and tablespoons,” you chide while assembling the food processor on his kitchen island.
“Blasphemy,” he mutters. You muffle your giggle but his super-soldier hearing doesn’t miss it. Setting the knife down he’s suddenly tickling you relentlessly on the side, peels of laughter falling out of your mouth uncontrollably.
“You think sassing me is hilarious huh?” Nodding your head in between your laughter you try to wiggle out of his grasp ending up with his chest to your back pushing you into the counter trapping you. You don’t stop wiggling though and while he continues this assault you feel something rather familiar pushing against your backend.
Pushing back against the growing erection he stops tickling and immediately his hands grip your hips to hold you in place.
“Now, now,” he growls in your ear, “we’ve got cooking to do before sunset.” Nipping your ear he lets go, returning to cut the potatoes in half.
You remain still for a moment longer, your brain misfiring at his rough voice. Oh man, you needed to finish these latkes.
Getting the food processor together you grate the potatoes and onions then drain them in a cheese towel. Keeping some of the juices you mix the Matzo meal, eggs and seasonings together then bring the potatoes and onions in.
“Why are you adding more?” Bucky asks as you pour in more Matzo meal.
“It doesn’t feel right yet,” he glowers at your words.
“Doesn’t feel right? And what does that feel like?”
“Like a good mix of all the ingredients?” Bucky chuckles at your vague description watching you continue. “Can you heat up the oil?” Bucky nods at your request turning the burner on under the pan full of oil.
Finally when you feel good about the mixture and the oil is heated you grab a wooden spoon, scoop a small amount of the Latkes mixture in and flatten it with the palm of your hand. Slowly slip it into the heated oil.
The loud pops of the oil frying telling you it’s too hot, you turn the burner down a bit and hand Bucky the spoon. “You make the others, Let’s only do 4 at a time to make sure they all cook evenly.”
He takes the spoon and follows the same steps as you before presenting his spoon to you for approval. With an encouraging smile, you nod your head and he places it in the oil with the one you made. He makes two more and you take his place in front of the burner waiting to flip.
“How do you know when it’s time to flip?”
Bucky comes up behind you, his hands resting on the voluptuous flare of your hips, his chin on your shoulder watching the Latkes cook.
“You watch the browning on the outline,” Bucky hms.
“Thank you for showing me how to make these.”
He kisses your neck before going back to looking at the browning potatoes. Hand slide up your waist, cupping your breasts, skilled fingers finding your nipples to pinch. Your head dips back with a soft moan.
His lips rest on your earlobe, “Come on doll,” his breathy words push against your ear, “You gotta watch them,” he tweaks your nipples hard, you jerk paying attention to the pan. He ruts his pelvis into you, his growing arousal feeling deliciously hard against your soft back end.
“Don’t get too distracted or they’ll burn,” he whispers against your neck.
Suddenly he’s off you, leaving you feeling hot under the collar and growing dampness in your underwear. He was driving you inside with this hot and cold today.
Once the Latkes were all done, cooked to perfection, and cooling on the wire rack Bucky glanced at the kitchen clock. “Hey, doll when’s sunset tonight?”
Looking back at him as you stop adjusting the latkes on the wire rack you purse your lips trying to recall what time you read earlier today. “Uuh, I think around 5:20?”
A lecherous smile pulls on Bucky’s lips as he pushes you away from the cooling latkes and presses your back against the kitchen island. “Ah just enough time then,” he attacks your lips.
Catching you off guard you remain still before relaxing into his lips, his large hands framing your face to tilt your head slightly up. Bucky kisses trailing down your chin, hands sweeping down to pull the collar of your shirt exposing more skin for him to consume. Mouth trailing down to bite at the swell of your breast.
“Bucky,” you gasp out.
The passion he had been giving you small bursts of since coming over is unleashed. You wrap a leg around his waist, curling and pulling him flush against you. His hips grinding against you pushes your damp panties against you, a stuttered moan falls out your mouth.
He’s kissing you once more, hands unzipping and pulling your pants down your hips. Tugging on the fabric clinging to you and grunting into your mouth with the effort. His cool metal hand dips into your underwear and you coo at the sensation. Smooth metal grazes your soaked folds before slipping in gathering the slick pouring out you.
Bucky bits your bottom lip just as his fingers rub your clit, the dule sensation making your hips jerk forward and your head spin. He groans your name against your lips before flipping you around pressing your chest against the marble countertop.
Your hands flat on the surface, you push yourself up but his metal hand falls on the small of your back keeping you down. Trying to keep yourself up on your elbows, he allows it. His focus turns to pulling your panties past your hips, sure to keep your legs together with the restricting fabric as his cool metal digits caress your swollen folds.
“So wet for me,” he admires, voice rough with arousal as he watches your slick pooling down your folds onto your panties.
Instantly his hands are gone, hearing the rustle of fabric and a zipper behind you. Trying to turn your head but before you can get a look you feel the bulbous tip of his cock push against your folds, nudging your clit before slipping up to your entrance.
Bucky grasps your ass cheeks and pulls them apart, marveling at the way your wet hole opens just a fraction at the shift, enough for him to nudge the tip of his cock in. You rock up onto your tiptoes at the sensation, legs taut.
He pushes in and you fall flat on the countertop crying out, fingernails scraping against the unforgiving stone. The way his thick shaft pushes and pulls against your walls makes your spine tingle. Turning your head you rest your cheek on the cool marble, cooing and mewling as he slowly pulls back out and pushes back in at an almost glacial pace.
Bucky wants to take his time, feeling the way your walls flutter around him and how you gush out when he is all the way in. His balls become slippery with your slick, he’s rather sure your panties are ruined and soon your pants but he doesn’t care. His hands push your sweater up your back until he sees your bra clasp undoing it.
His warm hands slip under you, cupping your breasts squeezing and pinching the nipples. You moan, voice growing louder when he begins to rock his hips back and forth at a steady pace. Fingernails dig harder against the marble, you’re fairly certain you’ve broken at least one nail.
“Bucky,” you beg, and he leans over you, covering your body with his weight.
“What is it?” He taunts pushing his cock all the way in and remains there, “What do you need?” He drags out the last syllable the rumble in his chest felt on your back.
“You,” is all you can get out, but he knows. He knows you need him to be rough, to take you to remind you who you belong to, who he belongs to.
"You have me," he grunts into your hair. Using all of his remaining willpower to pull his cock from you until just the head remains. "All of me. I'm yours, doll." Bucky thrusts back in hard, the force sure to leave bruises on your hips from the counter but he can’t care about that right now. All he can focus on is you.
He stands back up, hands leaving our pebbled and sore nipples to rest on the cool marble he holds our hips. A snarl pulls from his lips at the sight of your swollen and redden folds. You always looked so good, but the sight of your body taking him in, well it did things to him.
Before you can beg again he’s pounding into you with renewed energy. His metal hand slapps against your bouncing ass check and you cry out. Your walls begin to flutter around him, feeling yourself start the fall.
And he knows.
Slipping a hand around he finds your engorged clit, with precision he begins to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. Each time he pushes in your clit is smashed against his fingers and when he pulls out those same fingers are rubbing frantically against it.
“Bu-” You try to get out the pulsing pleasure rolling along your body down to your center. “Buck-” is all you can make out before you fall. A choked sob follows with your eyes shut tight, balling your fists against the counter.
You feel weightless as the euphoria takes hold.
Your limp body rocks in tandem with his erratic salacious thrusts, Bucky chasing his own high as he grunts each time his cock is fully inside you. With one final push, his balls tighten and an animalistic groan signals his release.
Your eyes crack open, you make a soft ‘oh’ when you feel his cum shoot inside you. So warm and welcome. You're both panting when he leans over your body. Holding himself up by his elbows.
He pushes his face into your hair, inhaling deep and pushing out a shaky loud breath. Yeah cooking with you was his favorite thing to do. Hell doing anything with you left him in awe. Because you were his favorite thing in the world.
Once you’ve both caught your breath he stands up straight pulling from you watching as your combined juices pour from your abused hole further soiling your panties. He licks his lips before patting your ass with his flesh hand.
“Ready for some latkes?”
#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes x reader#smut#bucky barnes smut#james buck barnes smut
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ALL I COULD EVER WANT
ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴄ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴋᴘᴏᴘ ɪᴅᴏʟ...ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ʜɪs ɢʀᴏᴜᴘᴍᴀᴛᴇs ᴘᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ..
ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ʀ��ɢʜᴛs ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴠsʟᴀᴛᴛᴀᴇ
paring: Taehyung x Reader
Warnings: (okay let’s goooo) tae being a softie once again but dom tae comes out a little, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex (plz wrap before your tap), fingering dirty talk the whole shabaka.
Chapter 6: A moment we’ll never forget.
——————————༺༻——————————
After your little beach day everyone was resting and scattered around the house along with the girls that showed up earlier. Taehyung was in the shower while you had you laid on your stomach on the bed watching whatever was on. It was kinda hot the sounds of laughter bursting through the house made you miss the sound of the door opening.
smack.
“ow tae what the fuck” you smoothed your hand over the hit mark but to your surprise it was just haru. “y/n are you okay?” you heard tae in the bathroom. “ yeah i’m fine haru just smacked my ass” you glared at her. “What? not my fault my best friend has more ass than me.” she pouted. Tae chuckled turning the water off.
After 10 minutes of talking about whatever haru wanted to tell you she left and taehyung came out. Taehyung watched you with sudden movements, the way you looked with his shorts on a sports bra god..you were perfect. Your hair was thrown up into a mess bun kicking your feet back and forth until you turned over looking at taehyung just standing there.
“hm what’s wrong?” you questioned him propping yourself on your elbows. “y/nnn...the girls left come eat” you heard haru through the door. getting off the bed, tae pulls his hoodie over you, before opening the door he pulls you in and kisses you on the forehead. “ready for your date tomorrow ?” he looks at you. “mmmh yes.” you smile finally walking out of the door.
Dinner with the rest of the boys is always filled with loud booming voices and jin and rm left to do the dishes. You were curled up next to haru scrolling through your endless camera roll from the few days you’ve gotten here. “are you excited for your date tomorrow” haru look between you and tae smiling with her cheesy ass smile which meant she was about to say something really dumb.
“have you done the dirty yet...?” she chuckles as you hit her playfully. “jin please control your girlfriend omg” you whine and get up scrambling into taehyungs lap where his hands immediately find your waist pulling you in tighter into his chest. Jin and rm finally finish up tossing blankets to everyone. “maybe we should have had those girls stay over” Jungkook looks at jimin to which agrees.
The movie is half way going jk and jimin fell asleep mouth open while everyone is struggling to stay awake. Taehyung on the other hand running his hand drawing figure on your side. you shifted which was your mistake... “tae.” you whispered. “tired baby?” he looked down at you nodding your head he picked you up and laid you down so you could get some sleep.
The bed dipped as soon as you came into contact with tae warm body. “i’m excited for our date tmr” you smiled with sleepy eyes. “me too angel sleep now okay?” he cooed. your finally thoughts drifted away as you made your way into a deep sleep.
Taehyung woke up early to set the date up haru helped only bc she begged him to let her and plus he really could have used her help. The only slight disadvantage was the sun wasn’t even up yet. He knew that you wanted to watch the sun rise and hated sunsets cause that’s when the world falls into darkness..you’d rather watch the world set into light to linger away the bad memories from before.
Around 20 minutes or so he came in to slowly wake you up.
“y/n love come on.” he kissed your forehead as you smiled rubbing your eyes open. “tae...it’s still dark what time is it?” you whined trying to roll over without any hint of success. “it’s time for our date baby..” finally you jumped out of bed but you were still confused on why the heck he woke you up so early. You did you little routine and scrambled on better clothes, a pair of shorts, vans and a flannel.
“close your eyes okay..” he whispered in your ear nodding you did as you were told. “if i trup it’s your fault tae” he giggled. it took about 2 minutes to get to the destination as your feet acknowledge the fact that you weren’t on the solid ground but maybe something else.
Taehyungs heart raced because believe it or not he wanted to officially ask you out and seeing as he had your brothers permission he was certainly nervous. “okay open your eyes” your eyes adjusted to the scene. breakfast on the pier in the dark? “i know it’s still a little dark but i know how much you wanted to watch the sunrise here” he smiled
Your heart flutter after the explanation. How the heck did he know that and why is he so is perfect?
“y/n..? you alright” tae eyed you suspiciously. “ yeah i’m okay i’m just flattered you know.” he chuckled as you two sat down to enjoy the food he made. about 10 minutes later the sky painted purple and oranges finally set the work free of darkness. Glancing at tae you noticed the small dollop of whipped cream from the pancakes as you giggled.
“Tae don’t move” you wiped the food off with a napkin as he looked at you. His eyes glistened in the light, the small curls of his brown hair blew softly in the wind. Now taehyung nervous as fuck decided now was the time to ask. He didn’t know what would happen but he hoped the outcome is good.
“Y/n” He looked at you as your head perked up away from the light of the rising sun.
“yes tae?” you smiled as you began to question why he was so shaken up.
“ I know we didn’t exactly get along before this trip but i learned a lot about you. Like the way your face lights up when you spot the sun pouring through the windows in the morning or the way you hate jins weird dad jokes, or you prefer orange over apple juice in the morning but sometimes you forget that you brushed your teeth so it gives off that weird taste...I could list a lot more but to get to the point y/n i like waking up next to you and spending my days giggling next to you...i wanted to know if you’d happily be mine..like-”
you cut him off giggling in awe about the words that jumbled out of his mouth and with his slight frown he thought you were laughing at him.
“it’s okay if you want to just-” you pressed your lips on his hoping he’d get the hint. “Taehyungie..id love to be by your side every morning, from this day forward i’m yours okay?” his smile return jumping to his feet to press his lips and give you a soft kiss. he smiled into the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck to pool your hands in his soft chocolate hair.
Finally pulling away for air. He smiled at you picking up the trash and throwing his arm around you, you finally felt happy knowing that now you two weren’t finally well for each other.
Stepping into the house everyone was awake waiting to hear the news.
“welllll?” jimin perked up.
“y/n said i had a small dick so no..” he pouted
“WHAT- i said yes and those words never came out of my mouth” you scoffed. Which the silence was now filled with loud voices that came to congratulate you.
Taehyung pulling you into the room he immediately started peeling you out of your clothes latching his lips to paint more purple marks on your skins. “tae” you whimpered out. “y/n baby you might wanna be quiet...the others will hear you.” he tutted. “but they’re not..haru went swimming with boys” you groaned a little “well then be my guest.” he lifted your body up and placing you on the bed. Pulling his shirt off while you sat on the edge to help him peel of his pants.
Pushing yourself to rest your head against the headboard propping yourself on your elbows watching his head dipped in between your legs when the shock of his tongue dips inside you. Then the burning sensation of two of his fingers slide inside you to help stretch yourself out. “fuck” you whine tangling your fingers in his hair. “god you taste so sweet baby...tell me does it feel good?”
“taehyung..don’t stop” you whine as your muscles tighten but his tongue stays relentless rolling over the bundle of nerves. “cum baby” he growls and that sets it off, back arched as your mouth falls open as pants fill the air. You pull his mouth to yours interwove together coating your mouth in your juices.
“jesus tae..fuck me already” you whine pulling and stroking his length that hardens in your hand and the soft grunts that play music to your ears eggs you on. “so needy baby...are you hungry for my cock inside you?” he coos.
Coating your arousal on the tip before slightly pushing his length in... you stop for a second.
“tae...wanna ride you.” you manage to breathe out. nodding he switched places with you. Before sinking yourself in to him, his hands helped you sit on him the burning and stretching sensation made you cry out. “deep so fucking deep your such a good girl..taking my cock so well” you watched you as you slowly started to bounce god he loved the sight.
The sounds that faltered out of your mouth, the way you sigh his name. “so good tae..fuck-” your eyes rolled back as soon as the tip hit your sensitive spot making your legs shake. snaking his arms around you making you moan into the blissful kiss he knew you were close when that high whine left your lips. “close baby?” he grunted which in return you nodded frantically.
His hands helped you rock your hips back and forth on to him. “fuck tae oh my god!” he sat up wrapped his arms around you. “come on baby...i know your close..” he egged you on and with that last roll of your hips, it set you into a frenzy. Looking at tae with sleepy eyes and giggling at you lifted yourself off of him.
“y/n..what are you doing silly” he chuckles watching you ass up as you grip his length before licking your lips. “shh” you smiled and popped the tip of his length in your mouth. Groaning into bliss finding his hands into your hair to help you gag onto him.
“ Oh shit-” you watched him throw his head back. Pulling you off him pooling you onto your hands and knees. Once again he slid in a little too smooth. “god always so tight..your so tight for me y/n perfect.” he growled his thrusts a little harder.
gripping one hand on the sheets and the other onto taes wrist you turned your head to watch him pound into you senseless. God he looks so fucking good. The beads of sweat that cover his forehead or the way or the pretty sounds that drown through the room. Chasing your last orgasm taehyung pulled out as the liquid coats the inner part of your thigh.
He cleans you up which left you panting and sore. “well...that was nice” you giggled. Pulling his hoodie over your small frame he chuckled. “yes...sorry if our first time wasn’t special love” he pouted only for you to pull him in your arms “it was very special to me” you kissed his forehead.
“now...let’s go find the others shall we?” you held your hand out. “let me get dressed first love..” laughing you sat and waited for taehyung to get dressed before venturing off outside to talk amongst the others.
———————————————————————
a/n: let’s gooooo it’s official i’m proud of tae :) and thank you haru bahaha anyways..i hope you’re enjoying the story and thank you for reading <3! let me know what you think or if want to be on the taglist!
T̶A̶G̶L̶I̶S̶T̶:̶
@hantaev @strawverryxmilktae @serendipitysev
#taehyung smut#taehyung fake social media#taehyung fic#bts smut#taehyung story#taehyung fake texts#taehyung#taehyung fluff#bts fake social media#bts#lets go tae!
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Hey I hope you are doing well. I have missed your writing and wanted to check up. For inspiration for the Loki series could you do something about the reader getting super sick? I understand if you don’t want to. I just have been thinking about your blog and this series💕
sorry if this is a double ask I don’t think my first one went through.
daisies
26.1.21
note: hi, lovely anon! i’m doing well, just went back to school so that’s why i haven’t had so much time/energy to write so much. i’m still really excited about this series, just tryna take things slow at the moment. but you’re so nice for checking in, that made me so happy!!
and you know what this gives me?? ‘you’ve got mail’ vibes! like the last scene, when tom hanks visits meg ryan when she’s sick and he brings her daisies.
loki series masterlist / request! / masterlist
---
“I can’t come in today.”
“Why not?”
A cough rattles your lungs, making for a sickening sound through the phone. The room seems to bob slightly, like a boat. You close your eyes in protest, hoping the sea sick feeling will go away.
“... You have a point”, he says.
“There’s fries to heat in the freezer. Or just get McDonalds. But don’t be rude to the cashier!” You feel like a mother hen, which doesn’t fail to bug you. Loki’s clear voice tells you that he feels fine, even good. And here you are, feeling like a slow death is coming for you. But still, you're not the one getting fries for lunch.
Life isn’t fair, you think.
You can still hear him breathing down the mic of the phone. A stubborness in you eggs you to keep going, to be the last to hang up. Another cough rattles through you. Loki says nothing. You wonder if you’re gonna die here on the phone to him. There are worse ways to go, you guess.
“Fine. See you tomorrow.” He sounds harsher than he means to.
You’re already half asleep.
---
The shrill ring of your phone wakes you from a much needed slumber. The caller id says ‘Loki’. If it didn’t hurt so much, you’d roll your eyes.
“I’m coming over.” He close to shouts the words the second you pick up.
“You’re what?” you cough.
“You’re clearly not well.”
“You’re really bored, aren’t you?” If you’d had the energy, you’d smirk.
The silence that follows confirms your theory.
“... I’ll be there in half an hour.”
---
Loki makes it to your apartment in less than the thirty minutes promised. You’re impressed -- with the state of the traffic, he’s done the seemingly impossible. But it also gave you less time to hurryingly trying to tidy up the mess in your apartment.
He arrives, all bright-eyed and slightly out of breath. He must’ve walked the final distance between your home and the closest subway station. His lungs heave in, out, in, out, with fully functioning breathing. A strong feeling of jealousy flares up within you. Jealousy mixed with… something else. Something warm. You let it linger.
“Hi.”
His eyebrows draw together. “Why are you standing up?”
“Well, I had to let you in.”
He looks at you, after close to forcing his way through the door. It’s an undeniably soft look. He reaches his hand out, touching your arm ever so slightly.
You sniffle.
“You should go lie down now”, he says softly.
“Okay, mum”, you mumble, trudging off to fall into your bed.
He gives you a look for that final comment as he shrugs off his coat and neatly places it on the coat hanger by the door. He reaches into his coat pocket, and takes out a bouquet of daisies.
He looks at you, almost bashful about the sweet gesture.
It’s enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're not yourself today. All your hard outer shell has been removed, leaving a soft and gooey center.
It suddenly becomes hard for you to meet his eyes. Loki doesn’t seem to have the same problem. He watches you with a tentative gaze, waiting for you to accept the flowers.
“I thought you’d like it because of that movie… ‘Collect your post’”, he says.
Collect your post?
Then, it suddenly clicks, “Do you mean ‘You’ve got mail’?”
“Yes.”
You remember when you watched it together. It was early days, really early days. Loki had mentioned briefly how he’d never seen a whole Midgardian movie, and you’d found it to be up to you to change that. But where do you start, with all the films ever made? You decided that Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks in Nora Ephron’s classic ‘You’ve got mail’ was the way to go. But you didn’t think Loki would remember that much about it, especially not since he’d forced you to pause the movie during several occasions, so he could go into the kitchen to calm down from the cringe of the big misunderstandings between the two main characters. In summary, you didn’t think he’d liked it, or even remembered it.
But he did. Another one of those warm, fuzzy feelings bubble up inside you before you have the chance to push down.
This is ridiculous, you find yourself thinking. You’re like two bumbling teenagers, trying to figure how to act around each other again. Now that you’re more than you were before. Nothing has changed, yet it feels like everything has.
You pluck slightly at the petals of the small, white flowers. “Thank you. They’re lovely.”
He smiles the tiniest smile. “I’m glad you like them.”
---
A grey haze settles over the evening, as your fever turns worse. Loki is there. Around dinner time, he makes you some kind of soup. You don’t remember what he said it was called, but you remember the taste. Like saffron and golden butter. It tasted divine, out of this world. A bit like him.
After dinner -- did you watch a movie as well? You can’t remember -- he left you to sleep.
When you wake up the next day, you feel close to restored. Your fever isn’t as dramatic, and the cough is close to gone.
There’s a note on your bedroom table. You recognise it as Loki’s neat scribbles. It’s beautiful, with long, swiping gestures. Penmanship fit for a prince. The words written make you smile. They’re careful, and trying, and very new, coming from him. Your mind sticks to the way he’s written ‘Darling’ and referred the rose coloured word to you. The last sentence easily brings a smile to your lips.
Be well, darling.
I miss you.
---
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Cullrian Mulan AU
Word Count: 27,573
Summery: After escaping the Venatori and his family in Tevinter, Dorian finds refuge with a kindly older woman on a farm in Ferelden. When the Inquisition comes knocking looking for volunteers, Dorian can't help but overhear that they are looking to defeat the Venatori once and for all. He could join, but he can't have them thinking he might be a Venatori himself, especially not the Commander.
Forward: Holy jesus mercy, this literally took me years to get to. Between wanting to build out the universe to make it all fit together, then getting some serious writer's block (because nothing I love can come easy), then actually writing the damn thing! This has been a journey, and I really hope you all enjoy. I know it's a pain to read long fics on tumblr, so just let me know if you'd prefer it on AO3 or something. All my love, please enjoy my longest fic ever!!
__________
Just as the sun began to rise over the hills surrounding the farm, songbirds began to chirp, stirring Dorian from his sleep. Though he hated the insistent noise, he had to admit it was a softer wakeup call than Halward pushing ten tired slaves into his room to make him “presentable” before another noble’s daughter arrived. When Dorian had rejected the woman betrothed to him since birth, his mother offered that perhaps they should find an equally suitable candidate that Dorian could see himself getting along with. Poor mother, just trying to help; but she would never understand the true reason for Dorian’s rejection. Or perhaps they knew, and just couldn’t bear to face it as truth.
It took Dorian a moment to fully wake before he was hurriedly getting dressed and cleaned up, hoping to make it downstairs in time to make breakfast. As he descended the stairs, however, the scent of eggs and baking bread filled his nose. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. While it smelled wonderful, he still felt a bit guilty for making his kind host cook for them both.
At the bottom of the stairs, he smiled and gently bowed his head at the middle aged woman at the stove. “Good morning, Miss Ella,” he said as he entered the kitchen just off the stairwell.
“Good morning, dear. How do you like your eggs?” The woman turned to greet him with two plates of food in hand, each set prepared differently.
Dorian didn’t look at the meal before responding, “I’ll take whichever you don’t prefer.”
The older woman frowned, distinctly upset with the answer. “Ser Dorian, I insist you choose. You’re my guest, after all. I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”
The two stood both with expectant stares for a short while until Dorian sighed, taking one of the plates. “And I want to make sure I’m as nonintrusive as possible.” He turned quickly, taking a seat at the quaint kitchen table.
The woman smiled gently as she joined him. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: you are not intruding. I took you in, and that’s the end of it. You should feel as though we share this house, just as we share this food and the land where it grows.”
Dorian couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as he began to eat. “Thank you, Miss Ella. You’ve been far too kind to an undeserving stranger.”
Miss Ella scoffed as she swatted at Dorian’s arm with her handkerchief, “Oh, don’t say such nonsense! Everyone is deserving of kindness, especially when they show such courtesy in return.”
Dorian said a quiet thank you as he continued to eat, trying to avoid another kind hearted argument with the woman. They stayed silent for a long moment until the woman shook her head and laughed.
“The only doubt I have about you is where you’re from. Not that I mind your secrecy; I understand the need. I only wish I knew so I could know who to thank for your wonderful manners.” She teased, wholeheartedly.
Dorian smiled despite the remembrance of home life, and answered gently, “I hardly think my parents had much to do with my manners. They’re not the kindest of people, unless they’re trying to impress someone.” His smile slipped slightly, enough for Miss Ella to notice.
“I’m sorry, dear,” she frowned and reached across the table, patting the back of Dorian’s hand, “I didn’t mean to strike a nerve. I wasn’t meaning to imply life was perfect, only that you seem acclimated to the finery in life. However, I know that comes with its own stresses and consequences.”
“You’re certainly right about that,” Dorian sighed, finishing the food on his plate.
As he stood, he took Miss Ella's empty plate as well, taking the dishes and cutlery to the wash basin to clean. As Dorian began scrubbing away, there came a rather harsh knock at the door. The two glanced curiously at one another before Miss Ella went to answer.
Dorian slowly set the dishes in the water, listening closely to who was at the door, waiting to see if it was a voice he recognized, come to take him back to Tevinter.
Instead, he heard a voice clearly announce: “Hello, serah, we’re here on behalf of the Inquisition. We’re requesting that every household contribute at least one able bodied person, or sign for a draft, if necessary.”
“Oh yes, the Inquisition. You’re the ones who patched up the sky, yes? While I would love to be of service, I’m afraid I am unable to enlist—”
“How old are you, ma’am?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Dorian heard the soldier clear his throat. “I asked your age, ma’am.”
Miss Ella, seemingly a bit taken aback by the direct nature of the question, gingerly answered, “Well, I’ll be turning fifty at the end of next month…”
The sound of confirmation and flipping paper piqued Dorian’s curiosity, as he slowly peeked into the foyer to watch the interaction.
The soldiers all nodded, one pulling out a form. “You’re within the age range to sign for the draft. If you would please—”
“I’m sorry?” Miss Ella stared in awe at the men before her. “I am the sole owner of this farm; all the land you see within several acres is my land! I cannot simply leave my property; who would be here to care for the animals? I would be more than willing to donate crops to the cause, but I am not going to leave my animals and harvest to suffer.”
Dorian watched on, ready to stand up for his gracious host, when the soldier tucked the form back into his satchel. “Ma’am, I understand your concerns, but I’m afraid, as valid as they may be, they cannot stand in the way of the fact that we need soldiers. As the Venatori threat strengthens—”
“I would be willing to volunteer,” Dorian stepped into view of the doorway, “on behalf of the household.”
Miss Ella turned with surprise, giving Dorian a worried look. He simply smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Very good, Ser. And thank you.” The soldier pulled out a list of volunteers’ names and began to assign Dorian an ID. “What is your relation to this woman?”
“My son.” Miss Ella spoke up, “Dorian Rider.”
Dorian gave a gentle, thankful look, trying not to make it too obvious to the soldiers.
“I assume, then, you were born in Ferelden?” The soldier studied Dorian’s dark complexion suspiciously.
“Orlais,” Dorian lied, “but I’ve lived here much of my life…”
The soldier seemed to find that more believable as he nodded, noting the answer on the form.
“And what is your role in the household? Just a simple description of what you do around the house will suffice.” The soldier asked, poised to write.
“I help maintain the farm.”
The soldier nodded, “Very good. And do you have any experience with fighting or combat?”
“Spell—” Dorian quickly closed his mouth, remembering mages were not supposed to live or practice magic outside of the Circles in Ferelden. He worriedly glanced at Miss Ella, before he noticed the soldier give him a friendly grin.
“Don’t worry,” The soldier said, lowering his writing board, “the Inquisition is not here to discriminate. We take anyone willing to risk their lives for the cause.” His eyes went soft, as he seemed to sympathize with Dorian. “I was a thief in Denerim before I joined. I’m not one to judge. Thank you for volunteering, Ser. Serah.”
The soldiers each gave a respectful bow before starting off to the next house. The one with the writing board called over his shoulder, “We’ll knock again when we’re ready to head off to Skyhold. Please be ready. You need only to bring your personal effects; we will have weapons and armor for you there.”
Miss Ella quickly closed the door and grabbed Dorian by the shoulders. “What are you doing? I thought you were hiding out! This is a sure way to bring attention to yourself, boy!”
Though she shook him lightly, she was not angry as Dorian looked in her eyes. The only thing he saw there was fear and worry. For him; for his safety.
Dorian took her hands in his and smiled reassuringly, “I’ll be ok. I can handle myself in a fight. Besides, what was I supposed to do, let them take you away from your livelihood? That hardly seems right.”
Miss Ella continued to look him in the eye for a time, all the while tears starting to well, before they eventually fell and she wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug. “Thank you so much, dear. I just hope they keep you safe from whatever you were running from. Maybe one day you’ll be free of fear, and you can tell me everything.”
__________
Finally at Skyhold, the entire cart full of recruits gazed upon the glory of their new home for the foreseeable future, everyone taken aback by the size of the castle. Once through the gates, Dorian found himself being shuffled through a group of anxious troops, somehow ending up near the front of the crowd. Just as he began to wonder what all the fuss was about, the entire mass fell silent, standing mostly at attention.
A pale skinned man with thick blond hair strode up to the group of recruits, his presence alone demanding full attention. As he scanned the crowd, seemingly impressed with the number of volunteers, he momentarily locked eyes with Dorian.
The mage immediately froze, holding his breath as the blond’s eyes studied him. It seemed like minutes before their eyes met again, the blond saying kindly, “Welcome to the Inquisition.”
Dorian didn’t realize the blond was addressing the whole group, and not just him, until the entire mass said in unison, “Ser, yes, Ser.”
Dorian jumped at the roar, averting his gaze to his feet. The rest of the blond’s speech went by as a mumble, Dorian only picking out a few things. “I am your commander,” “thank you for your service,” “we are all fighting for the same cause,” etcetera.
“Those of you who are weary from the journey may feel free to retire to the barracks and claim a bunk. Make certain your items are secure and accounted for. As for those anxious to begin your service, please follow my associate Seeker Cassandra; she will give a brief tour of the grounds.” The blond gestured to a broad and powerful woman, who already appeared annoyed. “As she will be assisting me in your training, I expect you all to treat her with the same respect and authoritative recognition as you would me.”
The blond Commander took a final look over the troops before dismissing them to follow Cassandra or head to the beds. But just as Dorian followed after the retiring group, he heard a gentle summons.
“You there, mage.”
Dorian turned to see the Commander watching him with a careful eye. “Dorian, Ser.” He answered.
“Ser Dorian,” The Commander let the name roll on his tongue for a moment before continuing, causing Dorian’s breath to hitch in his throat. “I understand you’re an apostate.”
Dorian let out his held breath in a deep sigh, nearly rolling his eyes. “Yes, I am. Ser. I don’t suppose you’re going to turn me in to your recent allies?” He crossed his arms and lifted a brow, challenging the blond standing several feet from him.
The Commander narrowed his eyes, “I certainly wasn’t planning on it.” He slowly closed the distance between the two of them in several long strides, saying in a low tone, “Unless you’re going to have a problem with my authority, Ser Dorian.”
With the blond so close, Dorian felt his heart speed up. Something about his presence made Dorian feel held in place. Not as if he was trapped, simply that he couldn’t make himself step away.
Dorian scanned his eyes over the Commander’s form, noticing the Chantry insignia on his bracers. Ah, Dorian thought, he plans on taking care of me himself.
“Not unless you’re going to play those little Templar tricks to dispel my magic when I’m simply trying to warm my tea.” Dorian could have sworn he saw the corner of the Commander’s lips curl up at his accurate observation.
“That would just be rude. No, I wanted to inform you that, despite my past, I have very little patience for discrimination.” The Commander's eyes scanned over Dorian's body once more, “If anyone says anything, does anything, or even looks at you in a way that makes you suspect ill intent, do let me know. They’ll be dealt with discreetly.”
Dorian wasn’t sure how to feel; between the Commander’s word choice and his eyes wondering Dorian’s physique, he felt maybe the blond knew his preferences just by looking at him. Did he have to be more worried about that than being an apostate? Though Dorian knew little about the south, he knew even less about their feelings on…sexual endeavors. More specifically, who you ventured those endeavors with.
Dorian hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring at the Commander without answering until the blond tilted his brow up. “That is an order, Ser Dorian.”
He was shaken from his trance by the mention of his name in a soothingly gentle voice; surprising for a man in his militant position. “Yes, Ser.” Dorian responded quickly, eager to have the Commander’s caressing gaze off him.
The blond smiled, seemingly content with the response. “Good. And don’t be afraid to approach me.” He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice even more to an impossibly comforting near-purr, “I don’t bite.” He grinned reassuringly.
Perhaps I’d rather you did, Dorian thought, admiring the Commander’s gait as he strode off, heading for his office.
In the barracks Dorian chose a bed, near to the wall to prop his staff and hang his pack, filled only with a few herbs for mixing potions and a book or two.
Though his sleep was fitful, he woke more or less prepared for training the next morning, those blasted birds even louder in the mountains than Miss Ella's valley farmland. Their loud singing mixed with the shuffle of new troops preparing for training woke Dorian far earlier than he would have liked. But he hurried along, seeing he was one of the last troops to rise, and made it to the training grounds just as the sun rose above the horizon.
He had eyes on him the moment he walked onto the grounds, scared young men and women glaring at him and eyeing the ornament on the end of his staff, watching cautiously as magic flowed through the crystal gem, all originating from Dorian’s fingertips. All the looks, the suspicion, made him feel as though he was not exactly blending in like he had hoped. He scanned his fellow soldiers, finding most were pale. Those with dark skin like his seemed no less acclimated to his presence. Their undertones were all cold blues and greys, making Dorian’s red-brown skin stand out in an unnatural, if stunning, manner against the natives.
As Dorian felt more and more uncomfortable in his own skin for the first time in years, a voice echoed off the fortress walls from behind him.
“You’re late.” Dorian turned to find the Commander stalking toward him, free of his armor and only covered by simple leather trousers. His chest was dusted in scars of all sizes; some reaching from collar bone to hip, one leading Dorian’s eye down a mischievous path to the Commander’s laces.
“Did the bells not wake you? Perhaps I should make that your responsibility; to wake and ring the bells for everyone else to hear? Since they seem not to faze you.”
Dorian scoffed, “I suppose you would like all your men to be late as well, then? If I were in charge of the bells, we’d all be waking half past tea.”
The Commander seemed equally confused and annoyed with Dorian’s flippant nature, seemingly having no respect, no regard for his position.
As he closed the distance in a quick stride, Dorian simply crossing his arms and sighing, almost bored by the interaction, he said lowly, “Fall in line before I make an example out of you.”
Dorian, sifting his words through his head, began carefully evaluating his next move. While he didn’t enjoy being told what to do, and very much enjoyed testing people’s patience, he decided against saying anything at all, taking several steps back and lining up with the other troops.
The Commander relaxed his shoulders, turning slowly to take his place in front of the herd. As he glanced back to face his troops again, and saw Dorian at the front line of their formations, he quickly changed his mind.
“Alright Ser Dorian, since you seem to enjoy being the center of attention, perhaps you would like to help me demonstrate some defensive maneuvers.”
Dorian tensed. While he was proud of his magical knowledge and ability, he knew things the average Ferelden mage most certainly would not. He had to be careful of what spells he used, as not to let on too much or attract attention.
But he relaxed as he saw the Commander reach for an extra sword and shield, gesturing for Dorian to step forward. He stabbed his staff into the ground and sauntered up to take the weapons. As he did, the Commander asked quietly, “You do know which end to hold it by, don’t you?”
Before Dorian could think, he grinned and responded in a flirtatious tone, “I’ve had plenty of experience handling swords, Commander.”
The Commander stared at him blankly as a slight rosy color filled his cheeks, then cleared his throat as he handed the sword off to Dorian.
“How much experience do you have with shield work?” The Commander asked, getting into a proper fighting stance.
Dorian mimicked his movements, obviously less confident with a sword and shield. “Certainly less than with staff blades and staff defense,” he muttered.
The Commander nodded once. “Let us spar—so that I can evaluate what you know—then, we’ll try it again with your staff. All I want you to do is defend.” The troops drew closer, forming a circle like a fighting ring around the two. “Don’t let me into your personal space.”
Dorian wanted to make a suggestive remark about his personal space, but the time was lost as the blond charged at him with speed and an unfair amount of force. Dorian dodged and defended as best he could with what little knowledge he had while the Commander showed no mercy, but ultimately, in only a matter of seconds, the blond had managed to disarm him and enter his space.
They were nearly chest to chest, Dorian breathing somewhat heavily while the Commander hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“Your movements are arrogant,” he announced, loudly for the rest of the troops to hear, “despite having no idea what you are doing, clearly. While half of defense is confidence, not showing your enemy weakness, it is not the whole fight.”
He stepped away from Dorian, acquiring his stance once more. “Again,” the Commander proclaimed, “with your staff this time.”
Dorian smirked as he pulled his staff blade out of the soil, poising himself for a good fight. He knew this was about physical defense, no magic involved, but by the Maker if he wouldn’t fight back.
The Commander once again charged at him, but this time Dorian knew what to do. He twirled his staff, directing the sword’s momentum away and back to the Commander, using his own power against him. Aside from a huff of disapproval, the blond went unfazed, using the off-railed momentum to carry his shield arm forward, bashing Dorian’s staff in an attempt to throw him off balance. But Dorian stabbed his staff blade into the ground, stopping the blond’s shield dead in its tracks. The Commander pressed forward, waiting for Dorian to inevitably lift his staff and take the force.
Rather than lift his staff, Dorian used it as leverage to swing his body around and kick the unsuspecting Commander’s sword from his hand. Unfortunately for Dorian, his opponent was ambidextrous, catching the sword in his left hand and switching the shield to his right. At this point, the Commander was visibly annoyed, putting more force into his blows, testing the mage’s strength. Dorian held his position for as long as he could, motivated by the troops’ shocked mumbling to one another.
Finally, after several minutes, the Commander’s sword came down on the blade of Dorian’s staff, throwing off the momentum and leaving Dorian open for the Commander to once again step into his space.
After this round, however, they were both panting, a sheen of sweat lightly reflecting on the blond’s chest. Dorian kept his eyes up, staring intently into the Commander’s.
“Much better,” He said flatly. “You use your staff as an extension of yourself. You know not only the magical maneuvers, but the physical ones as well. You still need to work on paying more attention to your opponent, and less to your own actions. They should come as second nature, as I’m sure your magic does.” The Commander backed away once again, relaxing his grip on his weapons. “Well done, overall. I’ve worked with and against many mages and, routinely, close combat was their weakness.” He scanned Dorian from head to toe, shrugging slightly. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m impressed, but…” extending his hand out to Dorian, “I respect your ability.”
A nearly collective gasp came from the audience of troops around them, all surprised at Dorian’s redemption. From problem recruit, to Commander-respected mage. Perhaps Dorian had nothing to worry about after all.
He took the blond’s outstretched hand and shook it lightly, bowing his head with thanks and returned respect.
“Now then,” the Commander signaled for the troops to regroup into previous formation, “While we have mages among our ranks, many of you would not find the maneuvers performed by Ser Dorian particularly useful, unless you plan on fighting nonlethally.” A quiet chuckle simmered through the troops.
“For the majority of your sakes, I will have my associate Cassandra help me with your training. I warn you, she is a stickler for form. And rightfully so, as it could mean your life…”
The rest of training went by with little incident, other than the occasional calling out and embarrassing of inept recruits. And by the end of the session, nearing lunch, everyone was exhausted.
As the mass headed off for the dining hall, dismissed reluctantly by the Lady Seeker, Dorian saw from the corner of his eye the Commander and Seeker talking in hushed voices, glancing occasionally in his direction.
I’ll speak with him, he made out from the Commander’s lip movements. After nodding and donning a linen shirt, Dorian watched from his peripheral vision as the blond closed in on him.
“Ser Dorian,” he placed a light hand on the mage’s shoulder, “Could I speak with you a moment?”
Dorian acted surprised, even going so far as to ask, “Am I in some sort of trouble?”
The Commander chuckled, “Not at all. Performing well in front of your peers in nothing to be punished for. However, on the topic of your performance, I wanted to ask you a few questions.”
Dorian’s breath hitched. Kaffas, they’re getting suspicious, he thought to himself, trying not to appear alarmed.
The Commander led him away from the hungry glob of languid recruits and in the direction of a more private location, beginning to ask several questions along the way.
“So, if you don’t mind my asking, where did you learn to fight with a staff?” he asked nonchalantly, hands clasped behind his back in a relaxed manner.
“I went to a very prestigious academy; one where our days were filled with nothing but magical and alchemical training. More general teachings—reading, writing, arithmetic—were expected to be taught in the household between school hours.” Dorian explained, leaving out any details that could be traced to Tevinter.
The Commander nodded, humming in understanding before asking, “In Orlais? I read in your recruitment form you were born and raised there.”
“Indeed,” Dorian knew quite a bit about Orlais, and spoke a bit of Orlesian, so he supposed he could continue this lie rather well. “I was lucky to be born to a noble family.”
“I’ve never heard of the Rider family.” The Commander stated bluntly, making Dorian’s heart jump a little.
“Well,” he began, spinning a believable story in his head, “we were unfortunately, when I was rather young, stripped of our finances by a business partner who ran off with my parents’ money. The rest appears to be history.”
The Commander narrowed his eyes, taking Dorian up and down once again. “I prefer my history well documented.”
Before Dorian could comment, a runner jogged toward them, handing off a stack of papers.
“Commander! New reports for you, Ser. Spymaster says they’re not urgent, but could be useful.”
The blond sighed and skimmed several of the papers, a lock of frazzled hair falling in front of his face. He rolled his eyes, handing the papers back to the runner, “Useful seems an over statement. Jim, take these to my office and tell Leliana, respectfully, this matter is a waste of my time.”
The runner nervously nodded, jogging off from whence he came. The Commander sighed and pressed his thumb to the bridge of his nose as he thought aloud quietly, “I am not the negotiator, that is Josephine’s job and it should remain her job if we are all to stay sane…”
He dropped his hand after a moment with a deep sigh before turning to Dorian. “I apologize, Ser Dorian, but I’ve work to do before the next bout of training. If you’ll excuse me.”
“Certainly, Commander…?” Dorian waited for a reply.
“Cullen. Always Commander Cullen, of course.”
“Of course,” Dorian agreed. “Until this afternoon, Commander Cullen.” He gave a graceful bow, the Commander simply ducking his head slightly in acknowledgement before they parted ways.
__________
Dorian tossed and turned that night, nerves and nightmares drilling deep into his conscience. He woke with a start, finding his fellow troops all still asleep, gentle blue moonlight shining through the slit of a window. Determined to clear his mind and be able to go back to sleep before training that morning, Dorian set off for the battlements.
After climbing the steps, passing the few troops on night watch, Dorian found a good spot to clear his head, out of the path of patrolling guards. He leaned against the stone wall and hung his head over, propping himself up on his elbows. He sighed, hoping his nerves would leave with his breath and leave him his confident self once again. But the worry continued; worry about being found out, about being dragged back home, about dying a face in the crowd, no one knowing him for what he wanted to stand for. A man against the fear mongering of his homeland, a man against the all-ruling wants of the Imperium, the good Tevinter.
But above all else, he worried about dying before he could prove to himself that he deserved all that recognition.
Just as the feeling of existentialism began to consume him, he heard a sudden voice from behind him, gentle and light. Soft, in a way.
“Shouldn’t you be getting some rest? You trained hard yesterday, you deserve it.”
Dorian jumped and turned to see the person speaking to him. He found the Commander, once again in linens, leaning in the doorway to what Dorian assumed was his office.
“I don’t mean to interrupt your brooding,” Cullen said apologetically, coming to lean against the battlement walls as well. “I heard walking around out here, and the guards don’t patrol this close to my office. I thought maybe there was trouble. Was I correct?”
Dorian smiled gently, looking out over the mountains again, “If I’m deserving of a rest, you are far beyond deserving. Letting recruits wail on you for hours? You must be tired.”
Cullen took a deep breath, letting it out as he spoke, “They don’t know nearly enough to have actually done any damage. I’ve certainly taken worse.”
They stayed silent for a moment before Cullen spoke again, “But you didn’t answer me.”
Dorian looked at him curiously.
“Is there trouble?”
Dorian chuckled, letting out a breathy laugh and ducking his head. “No, I’m just a bit sleepless. It’s nothing new, nothing I can’t cope with.”
Cullen nodded, quiet for a moment, before saying, “With all due respect, Ser Dorian, I don’t believe you.”
Those were not words Dorian needed to hear. They only added to his nervousness over being found out. He wanted to get out of there, quickly. “I suppose I should head off then, back to bed. Don’t want to be late for morning training again.”
“There’s no curfew, you know. Well, the tavern closes an hour after sunset, but there’s no rule saying you can’t wander the grounds.”
Dorian wasn’t sure how to continue, still poised to walk away.
“Would you mind if we talked a moment?” Cullen asked innocently, gesturing to his office.
Dorian reluctantly entered the Commander’s office and took a seat.
“Our ambassador looked into your ‘noble family’, by the way.” Cullen uttered as he closed the door, sauntering over to his desk and pulling Dorian’s recruitment form out to place in front of the mage.
He was fucked, he knew it. They found out who he really was and they were going to assume he was a Venatori spy, interrogate him for information, maybe even kill him.
“Only noble Rider family in Orlais was over two hundred years ago and they died out from inherited illness. So…” Cullen lowered himself into his seat, propping his elbows on the desk and placing his head on his wound hands, “Why did you lie?”
Dorian looked through the papers in front of him; his recruitment form, his payment contract, the information dug up on the Riders, but found nothing about his true identity. Did they not figure out who he really was? Was Cullen keeping the information from him to catch him in another lie? Dorian took a deep breath before testing his luck.
“I was staying with an old friend of mine in the Hinterlands when your recruiters came knocking. My friend manages her land all on her own—it isn’t much, but she’s not as spry as younger folk—and I came to help her. The recruiters were insistent that she ‘volunteer’ or that she sign for a draft. Obviously, she can’t leave her crops and animals to parish, so I offered to go in her place, on behalf of her household.”
Dorian held his breath, waiting for Cullen to react.
The blond took a breath before restating, “Your friend is older and you wanted to make sure she wouldn’t lose her land by being drafted?”
Dorian nodded, still barely breathing.
Cullen pursed his lips and slowly bobbed his head, glancing back down to Dorian’s papers.
Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, “My recruiters were trying to force her to volunteer? Or sign for the draft? That goes against their orders, which are, simply, to spread the word of our cause and take those who volunteer for a draft, if necessary, or to join the ranks.”
Dorian let out his breath, slowly as to not let on how truly relieved he was. Cullen had not only accepted his story, but truly seemed to believe it. Not all of it was a lie, in fact most of it was true, if not laid in truth.
“Let me ask next, did you give us her name when volunteering? Or some other alias?” Cullen raised his brows like a disappointed parent catching their child in a lie.
Dorian knew giving his real name would give him away and possibly get him killed, so he instead continued the lie. “No, my name is Dorian Rider, however I don’t believe there’s any relation to the Orlesian family. As far as I know, my roots are in Antiva. However, I do not know much about my heritage. My family…” He cringed at the little truth he was about to slip in, “My family disowned me for not following their life plans for me. I only know where my parents were born.”
Cullen’s eyes went soft, emotion slipping through his interrogation mask. “I…I am truly sorry. That’s something I’ve been lucky enough to never have experienced. I won’t press the matter.”
Dorian nodded in thanks, his heart finally settling.
“While your intent was in good standing,” Cullen said, running his hands through his natural curls, “I must still report this as misconduct. You could have worse; I’m going rather easy on you for this sort of misdemeanor. I expect I will not regret my decision, Ser Dorian?”
Dorian nodded, just relieved the whole confrontation was over.
“Good, then I believe everything is settled,” Cullen stated, leading Dorian to the door.
As Dorian began to hurry off, Cullen called after him, “And Ser Dorian!”
Dorian turned to listen.
“I said while sparring I would not go so far as to say I was impressed with your performance. It seems I told a bit of a lie myself.”
Cullen gave a knowing look before closing the door to his office.
__________
After several days of following a simple routine—getting up at the arse-crack of dawn, training for the morning, eating lunch, then training until sundown—Dorian began to feel comfortable with his new surroundings. Since his impressive display sparring with the Commander, people had begun to respect him, addressing him politely as he passed, even if Dorian was hardly their acquaintance. He felt good, confident in himself once again, and sure his secret was completely safe.
As he wandered the courtyard, clearing his mind after a lackluster lunch with the other recruits, Dorian noticed an elf with a powerful stance, Dalish markings on his skin, approaching him with purpose in his step.
“Dorian Rider, yes? I’ve heard much about you from your fellow troops; and our Commander himself.”
“Inquisitor!” Dorian suddenly realized, only having seen the man from a distance before now, “It’s an honor. And I’m happy to have good things said about me.” He bowed, low and respectful.
The elf scoffed, “Please, enough with the formalities. I was hoping to speak with you, if I could.” He gestured forward, in the direction of the main hall.
“Of course,” Dorian answered as he followed, only a slight nervousness rising in his chest.
When they arrived in the hall, few people occupying the echoing space, the Inquisitor began to ask, “From all I’ve seen and heard, you have quite a talent for magic and fighting. While all mages are technically apostates now, I understand you were an apostate before all the in-fighting broke out. Is that correct?”
Dorian nodded, thinking he knew where this was going. “I was indeed. While I won’t claim to be better than a Circle mage, I do believe I had the opportunity to learn many magic forms the Chantry might frown on. Excluding blood magic, of course. A disgusting use of power.” Dorian shuddered slightly, remembering its uses in Tevinter politics.
“Absolutely. You seem an upstanding man, one who would not abuse the privilege of living outside the Circle.” The Inquisitor sauntered slowly toward a door at the side of the hall, pushing it open and beckoning Dorian through. Dorian obliged, waiting in the short corridor before holding the second door open for the elf.
“Among my people blood magic is considered savage and unnatural, as many others feel, Circle mage or no. While I believe the Circle has a place, I do not believe it is to control or constrict mages, but to teach them and help them learn to control themselves and their own power. From what Commander Cullen has told me about Kirkwall, I think the Circle has driven more mages to consider dark magicks as a means to escape. Horrifying things they may never have even conceived of if given more freedom.”
The elf seemed oddly adamant for a non-mage, making Dorian slightly suspicious as to where the conversation was headed. But as the Inquisitor led them to a massive room with a massive map table, Dorian felt there would be no trouble today.
Several men stood behind the map table, some Dorian recognized as the Inquisitor’s associates, and others he’d seen around Skyhold with no context as to who they were.
“I’d like to introduce you to some of my most trusted members and friends of the Inquisition.” The elf gestured forward with a sweeping motion, triggering everyone to bow their heads and smile.
“Firstly, Solas, who has been with us from the beginning, helping me cope with the Anchor and studying its power.”
The tall slender elf smiled softly, “It is a pleasure, Ser Dorian.”
“Secondly—of course you know him—our Commander, Cullen, leader of our forces, ex-Templar, currently slowly dying from lyrium withdrawal he never told me about.” The Inquisitor eyed him angrily as the Commander gave a sheepish smile, muttering some sort of apology.
“And of course, the roguish duo of Varric and his little shadow Cole.”
The Dwarf waved as he continued to tune up his crossbow, saying casually, “Good to meet you, pretty boy.”
The young man behind him, on the other hand, looked Dorian curiously in the eyes before uttering, “You’re different inside your head: lacking, loathing, lonely; soft words never enough, but harsh words too harsh to heal.”
Dorian gave the Inquisitor a side glance, eyes wide with surprise. “Um, yeah. He does…that.” The Inquisitor apologized.
Dorian nodded tentatively to each of them before saying quietly to the Inquisitor, “While it’s lovely to meet everyone, I’m not quite sure I understand what this is about.”
The elf chuckled as he approached the war table and walked around to join his colleagues on the other side. “I, Eridan Levellan, would like to personally induct you into my inner circle, to join me and my allies—and closest friends—in the monumental task of keeping the Inquisition afloat and keeping our allies, and prospective allies, satisfied and compliant.”
Dorian’s jaw fell open in shock, meaning to say something, but at a loss for words.
The Inquisitor laughed again, “Allow me to explain my reasoning: Cullen and Cassandra told me about your skill with fighting and magic after your first display, and have kept me up to date on your progress and ability as it’s been relieved to us through your training. While I am incredibly glad to have you among our forces, I think your skill could be better put to use in the field, when it’s just me and a small group out and about.”
He pulled Cole and Varric into his side, arms around their shoulders and a hand on Solas’s arm as he stated, “While I have other members in my inner circle, these three are the ones who most often join me on my personal missions. Providing immediate aid, closing rifts, dealing with people’s weird family problems in exchange for supplies and alliance—we see it all, and it’s all dangerous. I think I could use someone with your talent out with me, watching my back!”
The short, and surprisingly stocky elf seemed incredibly excited about the concept, raising his eyebrows to question Dorian, imploring him to accept the offer.
When Dorian hesitated, Solas spoke up, voice soft and reassuring, “If I am to have an opinion in the matter, I would be delighted to work with another mage interested in the magicks not taught within any Circle. As an apostate myself, I chose to study spirits and ancient magicks, finding lost pieces of history in the fade as I dreamt. Many mages from the Circle believe this means I have made pacts with demons, and explaining my innocent intentions becomes tiresome. I, for one, would welcome the addition of a like minded apostate into our ranks.”
“The only apostate I ever met escaped from the Circle and it’s all he ever talked about. ‘Templars this, rebellion that.’ Had an insane spirit living in him, too. I’d like to spend time with less crazy mages,” Varric chimed in.
“You think about acceptance, but have never come to expect it. I’ve seen the dangers, lived with them. If that’s acceptance, I would have to change for it. Would I be myself after that?...” Cole was suddenly next to him, despite being under the Inquisitor’s arm only a second ago.
“Sweet Andra—! Can you not do that?” Dorian exclaimed, almost jumping away.
“Don’t mind him. He’s some kind of ‘good’ spirit. He doesn’t really understand boundaries.” The Inquisitor said, coming around the war table to pull Cole away by the wrist.
Cullen’s voice, the softest of everyone’s, gained Dorian’s attention immediately, “As the one who recommended this to begin with, I of course think you should accept. You have a wonderful talent that I can’t use among my troops. It seems a pity to waste it under my command.” He gave an encouraging smile, making Dorian’s mind up instantly.
“Inquisitor, it would be an honor to be part of your inner circle. I accept.”
The Inquisitor practically cheered, ushering everyone out so he could explain what would be expected of Dorian. Dorian listened intently, making sure to joke with the elf to gain his trust and form a feeling of comradery.
After stepping out of the war room, Dorian found Cullen waiting for him, leaning against the ambassador’s empty desk, standing upright when Dorian entered the room.
“I’m happy to hear you’ll be traveling with the Inquisitor from now on. As I said before, I truly think your skills will be better suited in the field.” Cullen extended his hand to offer congratulations.
Dorian took it in a confident grasp, giving a single solid shake. “I appreciate the referral. I’m certain it will surprise you to hear, but not many people appreciate my efforts.”
Cullen chuckled, “I can certainly relate; there have been times in my life where I felt the same. Looking back…” the Commander trailed off slightly, “Well, I’m not so certain anymore that my efforts deserved to be appreciated.”
“I assume you mean your time as a Templar?”
The blond sighed, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck, “Yes. I followed faithfully, but I realize now I was not following the right path.”
Dorian smiled, understanding completely, “Believe me, Commander, I know the feeling.”
They were both quiet for a moment before Cullen asked, shyly, “Would you mind if I asked…?”
“My family. What my family had planned for me, for the rest of my life. I followed as faithfully as I could until…” Dorian looked at his feet, eyes full of pain, trying to avoid Cullen noticing. “Until I was older and understood what they expected of me. After I dared to defy them one too many times…”
Dorian stopped. He couldn’t say anymore. Yes, it might give him away, but that wasn’t why he couldn’t speak. He knew, he remembered what his father was willing to do to change his preferences, and it hurt too much to say out loud. The man he thought had his best interests at heart turned out to only care about himself. Saying it out loud was like admitting a truth Dorian didn’t want to accept.
Cullen tried to look him in the eyes, touching his hand ever so gently to gain his attention. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s alright, I’m learning to accept it. It just…isn’t fun to talk about.” Dorian gave a pained smile.
Cullen sighed, dropping his hand from Dorian’s in favor of rubbing at his neck again, “I know. One’s past shapes who they are and who they become. Sometimes it’s difficult to accept who you were…”
Dorian saw the familiarity in Cullen’s gaze—distant and unsure—and heard the regret in his tone, but decided not to push the matter.
“Or, uh, who your parents were, I mean. I-I’m sure you’ve always been this wonderful. A wonderful person, that is! Good, uh, good moral standing, and all that.” Cullen’s face was very quickly getting red as he tried to avoid eye contact and stutter through his explanation.
Dorian chuckled, taking pity on the blond. “I understood what you meant, Commander, no worries.”
“Cullen.”
“Pardon?”
The Commander looked up suddenly, looking directly into Dorian’s eyes. He hadn’t noticed before that they were nearly gold. “Call me Cullen. You’re no longer under my command, so please: just Cullen.” He smiled so genuinely that Dorian almost forgot to respond.
“Oh, yes, well…” he laughed a little more to fill the silence as he thought. “I suppose I like the title. It suits you.”
Cullen smiled sheepishly, the blush coming back, less strong this time. “As you wish, Ser Dorian.”
Dorian rolled his eyes, shifting his weight to a more casual stance, finally feeling comfortable, “Now you’re just teasing me.”
Cullen poorly faked a look of offence, “Tease? Never!”
“Mm, you should work on your poker face, Commander.” Dorian couldn’t help but smile a bit.
Cullen laughed with him before the two fell silent again, neither wanting to leave, but neither knowing what to say.
“I…I wanted to ask a while ago, but I didn’t want the other recruits to think I was giving you special treatment: would you care to continue sparring when neither of us is busy? As odd as it may sound, I enjoyed the challenge.” Cullen seemed to be looking anywhere but ahead, avoiding Dorian’s eyes.
Dorian grinned, also avoiding eye contact, feeling like a childish school boy dodging around outright flirting with one another. “I would like that, actually.”
The two agreed on a time and place, and parted ways for the rest of the day. Dorian wandered a while until he saw the Inquisitor again, casually asking about continuing to sleep in the barracks.
“Oh! We can find you more private quarters if you like. I certainly wouldn’t want to live with a bunch of other people if I didn’t have to. Talk to Josephine, our Ambassador; she’ll find an open room for you.”
And so Dorian did, and by the end of the day, he had moved his belongings to a small—but comfortable—room with a view of the tavern and gardens. Right off the side of the main hall, and up a few flights of stairs, Dorian’s door opened to a balcony where he could see everything. While he knew these rooms were meant for visiting guests, and it may not be a permanent living situation, he had to admit it felt good to have his own space again. He did what had to be done to survive—slept in inns, travelers’ camps, worked odd jobs before finding Miss Ella’s farm— but it certainly wasn’t the lifestyle he was used to.
But that lifestyle was far out of reach now. As he sat on the edge of his new bed, mindlessly sorting his collection of magical trinkets, he wondered if life would have been better if he went along with his family’s plan to begin with. Marry the girl, have another mage son, continue living a lie for the rest of his life. He often told himself it would have been easier, but that wasn’t true. How could it be easy to deny your true self for your entire life? How could it be easy to force yourself to have sex with someone you could never be attracted to until you finally had a child?
How could it be easier than leaving everything you’ve ever known behind? That was difficult enough on its own.
“I don’t know;” he thought aloud, “how could it be harder?”
“Harder?”
Dorian jumped, conjuring a small flame in his palm on instinct, letting it fizzle as he saw the Commander in the doorway, leaning casually on the doorframe.
“Hey, it’s alright,” Cullen said, extending his hand out as he carefully approached, “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just thought I would come see how you were adjusting. All this, it must be a bit of a transition.”
Dorian’s palm quickly cooled as he let out a long breath, slowly calming down from the scare. “It certainly is. I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but it seems so sudden. Too sudden.”
Cullen chuckled, “I’d say you’ve earned it. But of course I would, I made the suggestion. How do you feel about it all?” he cocked his head on a slight angle, like a curious dog.
Dorian gestured for the Commander to sit next to him, the blond taking a tentative seat. “It’s odd. Coming here the way I did. Knowing what I came from—money, power, having to exceed expectations if you wanted to get anywhere in life…it was so stressful, and running away from it all was so stressful. And now…”
Dorian turned his head to see Cullen’s innocent golden eyes filled with understanding, knowing just as well what it was like to run from the only life you’d ever known. He found himself entranced, forgetting everything as he lost himself in wisdom-filled, pained eyes that reminded him of his own, a tired glaze darkening the once bright shine of hope they held years ago.
“And now?” Cullen repeated, hardly voicing the words.
The moment felt so intimate; the bed was somewhat small, so they were seated close, leaning toward each other. Cullen’s hand was pressed to the bed to support him as he leaned, placed right behind Dorian. It almost felt like they were embraced without touching each other. He felt comfortable, so comfortable he couldn’t even bring himself to question what was happening. So he simply let the moment linger. It didn’t feel awkward, it didn’t feel drawn out. It just felt…comfortable.
It seemed like an eternity before Cullen’s leg gently bumped his, the blond letting the tips of his fingers rest on Dorian’s thigh. He wasn’t sure what the intent of the action was, but it only made Dorian lose himself more. At first he was just lost in the ex-Templar’s eyes. Now he could see the entirety of him, inside and out. And after scanning over his body, Dorian’s eyes locked on to the blond’s lips. The room froze, time froze. Dorian saw Cullen’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed harshly, obviously wanting more than just Dorian’s eyes on his lips.
Dorian let himself move closer, just a bit, and Cullen did the same.
“And now,” Dorian’s voice was somewhere below a whisper, “things almost feel easy.”
“They could be,” Cullen’s voice was even, giving nothing away. Dorian wished there was some sort of hoarseness, wobbliness, something in his voice that made it clear what was happening here.
But Dorian wasn’t sure. He needed to be certain before he outed himself here. In Ferelden, in the Inquisition, in this moment with Cullen. He needed to be certain.
So he backed off, leaning away again and closing his eyes. He heard the Commander sigh next to him and clear his throat, shifting away.
“You sound like you have a lot on your mind,” Cullen sounded disappointed, but by this point Dorian had already convinced himself not taking a chance was the better course of action.
“I can leave you with your thoughts, if you like?”
“For now,” Dorian sighed, “That might be best.”
Cullen nodded, standing and heading for the door. “Until tomorrow?” he asked, audibly confused about their situation.
Dorian smiled gently, “Until tomorrow, Commander.”
__________
Dorian slept only a few hours that night, anxious and almost excited for Cullen and his appointment. He wore something more or less appropriate for sparring, forgoing his Inquisition sanctioned armor in favor of his own. It fit his form in a much more flattering way, and the magical embellishments made it more practical as well. He had a bounce to his step as he exited his room, using his staff halfheartedly like a walking stick as he went.
Before he reached the training grounds, Dorian took the time to admire how empty Skyhold felt. There were a few soldiers on the battlement, tired runners getting back from late errands, even two recruits who thought they were being stealthy while stealing a bottle of ale from the closed tavern. They noticed him, swearing as they sprinted off into the bushes to enjoy their find, and Dorian couldn’t help but chuckle at their youthful behavior.
He felt content. Things were going well. He knew he shouldn’t let his guard down, but Dorian couldn’t force himself to be paranoid in this peaceful moment an hour before dawn. He looked to the sky to see the scar and the moon almost perfectly aligned, about halfway set. He had time.
Just as he took a deep breath, a gentle voice barely rocked him.
“Fancy meeting you here. Any reason you’re up so early?”
Dorian turned to see Cullen with a smirk on his lips and still in full armor, despite normally dressing down to train and spar.
“I believe we had a date, Commander. It appears you may have forgotten, from your dress.” Dorian let Cullen notice as he purposefully drug his gaze over the blond’s physic, deciding against licking his lips. What about the wee hours of the morning made Dorian so openly flirtatious, he would never know. Even when it came to men who otherwise wouldn’t be his first choice, Dorian was always more open minded at the early hours.
Cullen raised a brow under the sensual scrutiny, “Oh, I haven’t forgotten. And I could say the same for you, in your…intricate attire.” He dropped his sword and shield next to him on the ground as he began to remove his upper armor, leaving his boots and trousers alone.
“Oh, do you like it? I would have brought it out sooner if we weren’t made to wear uniforms under your command. Boring, ugly uniforms.” Dorian shuddered dramatically.
Cullen shook his head and smirked as he loosely held his weapons, now shirtless and prepared to spar. “I didn’t assign those uniforms, you can take that up with the Inquisitor. However, I doubt your armor would be very practical when rushing into battle. Too many belts.” He eyed Dorian’s armor, trying to figure out how it worked.
Dorian adopted a pose to show quite a bit of his body, showing himself and the armor off at once. “It’s not nearly as complicated as it looks.” Stated matter-of-factly, before dipping his voice to a more sultry tone, “I could show you if you like. With practice, you could become quite proficient. It doesn’t take me much time to strip out of it all.”
His eyes were lidded as he watched Cullen. The Commander’s expression hardly changed as he said, oh so quietly as usual, “Perhaps I’ll keep that in mind.”
He hadn’t hesitated with his response, and Dorian found himself caught off guard at Cullen’s boldness. Maybe the morning hours had an effect on him as well.
“Well then,” he said, squaring up to Dorian, “How shall we start?”
Dorian followed his lead, “Magic or no magic?”
“None yet. I haven’t had to defend against magic without my—what did you call them? ‘Little Templar tricks’?—in quite some time. I don’t want either of us to get hurt. Perhaps when we have some supervision.”
Dorian sighed and said in an overly exasperated tone, “Shame; I was rather hoping these would be…private sessions.” He winked.
Cullen’s face heated, but it didn’t stop him from responding, “Out in the courtyard? This is hardly private. Now, if you ever show me how to work that ‘armor’ of yours; that I’d consider a private session.”
The morning was chilly, dew freezing on to the grass, but it was warm enough that Dorian should not have visibly shivered. He couldn’t pull any excuse when Cullen noticed. It was obvious what was happening. The blond smirked at him, Dorian trying not to think about the effect Cullen’s flirtations had on him. Not here, and certainly not now. Dorian had designed his armor himself, and liked that it fit in a way that left few things to the imagination, but if this sparring session got a little too handsy, Dorian may be wishing he had worn the Inquisition’s armor instead.
Thankfully, Cullen didn’t mention Dorian’s reaction, and simply started their training, leading with the initial blow as always. Dorian could dodge and throw up wards like there was no tomorrow, but he wanted to train his defense, not just evasion. So he used his staff to block and parry Cullen’s attacks, focusing his mind on observing his opponent, just as Cullen had been telling him to.
Before long, Dorian was focusing less and less on Cullen’s form, attack patterns, or eye line, and more on his body, movement, and gaze.
His eyes seemed sharp, knowing exactly where he wanted to land a blow. His body was under full control, every muscle accounted for and flowing to where his gaze wanted them. He moved with such grace for a warrior; surprisingly loose and agile for all his heavy armor and muscle build.
Dorian had continued to successfully dodge and defend while in his trance, but he hadn’t been holding his ground very well, slowly backing up and losing awareness of where his feet were.
Inevitably, his foot landed on uneven ground and he slipped. But long before he would have hit the ground, Cullen wrapped his arm around the mage’s waist and pulled him back up, their chests flush.
Dorian was tense, not even having realized he’d been falling until Cullen pulled him back. He returned from his thoughts when he heard Cullen’s voice say with an incredible tenderness, “I’ve got you.”
“You certainly have…”
Cullen cocked a brow, gentle smile still donned, as he waited for Dorian to make a move. He wasn’t letting go until Dorian told him to, and Dorian finally had the confirmation he needed to take the risk of making said move. His body relaxed against the Commander’s as he let his arms slide between them, nimble fingers tracing up Cullen’s marred chest. Dorian let his hands rest on either side of the blond’s neck, slowly pulling him forward to let their lips meet.
But just as their lips brushed together, they heard footsteps skid to a halt in front of them.
Cullen sighed and turned his head, growling with frustration, “What!?”
The troop looked stunned, having only just realized what she walked up on. When she failed to answer, the Commander let go of Dorian’s waist and marched slowly, intimidatingly toward the recruit, nostrils flared and steps heavy. The young woman backed away with her hands close to her face as if Cullen might actually hurt her. Dorian couldn’t blame her for thinking he might; the blond certainly wasn’t calm.
“I-I’m so sorry Ser, I just w-wanted to be e-early—”
“What do you think the bells are for? So you can wake up before them? If you showed up to battle early, do you know what would happen?”
“I don’t—”
“It would be you against an army, with your fellow soldiers miles behind you. You would be dead before you even had time to scream.”
The poor girl was shaking by this point, trying to stutter an apology through wobbly breath.
Cullen closed his eyes tightly, grumbling as he pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. “While I appreciate your incentive,” he began after he calmed down, “I expect you all here exactly when I say. Not a second later, nor a second sooner. Don’t be early, be on time.”
He looked apologetically to the girl as she continued to quiver. Cullen placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her around, gently prodding her back toward the barracks. She walked off slowly, still in shock.
Dorian smiled and shook his head, arms crossed, as Cullen sauntered back over to him with an embarrassed blush, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“That poor young woman is going to have nightmares” Dorian looked at Cullen accusingly, but he couldn’t help smiling at how ridiculous the whole situation was.
“I’m going to have to apologize to her later. I think I ruined the moment more than her seeing us did.” Cullen’s blush reached from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck and to the bottom of his collarbone.
Dorian chuckled and stepped closer to Cullen again, placing a hand on his cheek only to be greeted with the heat of his blush. “Perhaps we can bring it back before the bells. Unless you’d like to frighten a few more of your troops this morning? Show them who’s boss, etcetera?”
Cullen scoffed a little, but he was smiling. How could he not be, when Dorian was gently caressing his face and coaxing him into a kiss? He replaced his hand on Dorian’s waist and pressed against him, the mage pulling Cullen in tighter by the biceps.
And, finally, their lips met. Dorian meant for it to be rather chaste, leaving Cullen wanting more, but he couldn’t pull himself away. It wasn’t the same kiss he had gotten a hundred times in Tevinter. It wasn’t a formality during a loveless night together. This kiss was warm and soft, tender and compassionate, much like the man giving it.
Dorian’s hands slid up Cullen’s arms to hold his neck firmly, for fear the blond might pull away before Dorian had gotten the chance to relish the kiss. Cullen let his shield clatter to the ground, wrapping both arms tightly around the mage, hands splayed across his back, trying to feel through the armor. For a moment, Dorian considered removing the upper portion of his armor, so the two could be skin to skin, and he could feel Cullen’s callused hands up and down his back. By the Maker, that’s all he wanted in the moment, but he forced himself to save the stripping for somewhere other than the training grounds.
It almost felt like it lasted for hours by the intensity and the way the sun had risen over the fortress walls in the meantime. What finally broke the kiss was the striking ringing of the morning bells sounding Skyhold to wake up. Both men jumped at the sound, completely forgetting their surroundings while locked in each other’s embrace.
Dorian’s surprised eyes locked with Cullen’s with a matching expression, and both couldn’t help but laugh at their reaction. Cullen’s arms were still around Dorian’s waist, and Dorian’s draped over the Commander’s shoulders comfortably. It wasn’t until the men caught a glimpse of approaching grounds keepers that their embrace fell away, standing back awkwardly from one another before they were discovered.
“I…”
Cullen raised his eyebrows, waiting for Dorian to say something, because he was too stunned to do it himself.
“Thank you. For the sparring, that is. I…enjoyed it.” Dorian didn’t want to believe he was blushing, but he knew blood was rushing to his face.
Cullen smiled, only extending his hand in response. Dorian took Cullen’s hand in a firm grasp, giving a single solid shake. They stared at one another for a moment before Cullen stepped forward, his hold becoming gentle and soft. Eyes still locked with Dorian’s, he pressed a lasting kiss to the back of the man’s hand, the gesture holding more emotion than Dorian knew how to respond to. So, instead, he just smiled and ducked his head.
“So did I.” Cullen said lightly bringing their entwined hands away from his lips.
__________
His mind was in shambles, there was no way he could focus with his heart and head racing like this. Adrenaline had his hands shaking and his legs restless, so he paced. And paced and paced, around the room like it was a stage and all his anxiety and fears were the actors in a play.
But all these were real. Far too real for comfort.
Dorian exasperatedly threw open his door, rushing to the tavern to drown his panic attack away. As he walked—it was more of a jog, if he was honest—he wondered if there was really any reason to be anxious. Had anyone even seen him snogging the Commander? Would it be as scandalous in Ferelden as in Tevinter? While he doubted it, his anxious mind was having none of his logic.
When he entered the Herald’s Rest, it was fairly loud, the Inquisitor and Bull getting rowdy with the Chargers and a few stray recruits. Good, plenty of noise to drown out his thoughts.
Dorian grabbed a seat and a drink and proceeded to drink his feelings.
He hadn’t been counting, but it must have been an hour after he started drinking—and seven drinks in; he had been counting those—before a large and gruff hand smacked him playfully on the shoulder. Dorian jumped, turning quickly and narrowing his eyes. As he looked up, he saw a massive rack of Qunari horns and muscle looming over him, tankard in hand and bare chested.
“How’s it going? You’re that mage who kicked Cullen’s ass, yeah?” he lowered into a chair across the table.
“Is that how the story’s been spun?” Dorian’s words were melding together as he swirled his drink around in its mug.
“Might as well go with it,” the Oxman shrugged. “Better than being known as the undercover Vint, right?”
Dorian immediately sobered, back straightening and voice dropping low. “Who are you? What do you know and what do you want?”
Bull raised his brow, “Not even denying it? I’m guessing you aren’t normally this careless when you’re sober. Don’t think you would have made it this far.”
“Answer me,” Dorian growled through clenched teeth.
Smiling, Bull leaned his beefy arms on the table, dropping his tone as well. “I’m Ben Hassrath. Don’t worry, it’s no secret, actually I think that’s the first thing I said to the Inquisitor,” Bull cleared his throat and adjusted to lean even farther across the table, “It’s my job to read people, know things they would never admit by just looking at them. Besides, you really don’t think a Qunari would recognize a Vint when he sees one?”
Dorian couldn’t think straight; the way Bull talked quietly felt as if he didn’t want to out anything, but why would he bring this up in the first place if he was going to keep it a secret?
“I can pay whatever you want, I come from a very wealthy family. Just name your price and I’ll—”
Bull held up a hand to stop him, “Yeah, your family might be rich, but you’re not, are you? You ran off with the clothes on your back and something expensive to sell, just in case. Isn’t that right?”
Dorian’s mouth hung open as he tried to process the information, the fact that Bull was hitting every nail on the head with no more information than what he could see on Dorian’s face.
“That’s what I thought. And don’t worry, I don’t need you to pay me. I know you’re not Venatori, just a regular cocky mage boy. You won’t hurt anyone, not on purpose anyway.” He leaned back, crossing his arms in triumph, watching as realization washed over Dorian’s face.
“You’re not going to tell the Inquisitor? Or the Inquisition as a whole?”
Bull shrugged, downing the last of his ale, “No point. You’re keeping this a secret for a reason, and it’s a pretty good one. It’s probably what I would do in your shoes.”
Dorian took a moment, then shook his head, “But…you were in my situation. And you told them who you really are.”
Laughter echoed around the tavern as Bull belted out, “Oh, I guess I did, didn’t I?” He let the last of the laughter trickle out in several smaller huffs. “Well, at least the whole world isn’t at war with the Qunari.”
Dorian rolled his eyes, “For once,” he muttered.
Bull sneered at him, “Watch it, Vint boy.”
Dorian sighed a breath of relief, hanging his head in his hands. He had no reason to trust Bull would keep his word, but for now it was enough.
After a moment of relative silence—as silent as it can get in a tavern after dark—Dorian heard the chair across from him creak as Bull leaned forward again.
“So, uh…I can see you have a lot on your mind. Think I could help clear your head a bit?”
Dorian looked up in near disgust. He wasn’t sure it was genuine, more just to keep up the Qunari-Tevinter feud. “I think not.”
Bull shrugged and stood, sauntering back to his Chargers. “Suit yourself. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
While Dorian had to admit he was curious, he was far too enamored with the Commander, thinking back over and over on their moment in the courtyard that morning.
__________
Paranoia had filled his bones for days, taking over his thoughts and actions. He wanted nothing more than to be alone, do as little as possible that could draw suspicion. He separated himself from the troops, the inner circle, the Inquisitor. Bull, especially.
And he tried to separate himself from Cullen, a major source of his anxiety. But every time he saw the blond walking toward him, with a sweet crooked smile that acknowledged their mutual feelings without bringing them to the forefront of conversation, Dorian could feel his shoulders relax and his mind declutter.
And, of course, it happened again. As Dorian trained in the courtyard, he could see the Commander’s infamous armor out of the corner of his eye. He just stood, watched as Dorian put his magic on display, not necessarily trying to impress anyone, but being impressive nonetheless.
At that point, Dorian was finding it hard to tell if Cullen was watching him out of adoration or suspicion. In an attempt to hide his nerves, Dorian ceased his casting and gave Cullen an exaggerated side glance.
“Enjoying the show, Commander?” He shifted his weight to one hip as he poked his staff into the ground.
Cullen raised his brows innocently, “Show? I was just admiring your form. A natural gift, I’m sure.”
Dorian strode up to where Cullen was leaning against a wall, “My form, he says.” He was tempted to run a hand down the blond’s chest, but chose not to out of fear of passersby noticing.
“I was simply studying how you move for the next time we spar, that’s all.” Cullen’s cheeks were ever so slightly pink.
Dorian grinned, “Is that all you were ‘studying’?” his voice was low and rumbly.
A few seconds passed before Cullen had to look away, his face turning bright red, unable to control a smile. Dorian had to give him props for how long the Commander managed to flirt back.
“I was actually here to ask if you had a bit of spare time,” Cullen’s blush slowly left his cheeks as he spoke, “but I figured I would wait until you were done.”
Dorian tilted his head a bit, “I might, depending on what for.”
“Chess.”
Was the conversation still flirtatious? Was “chess” a euphemism used in the south that Dorian wasn’t aware of?
“Chess?”
Cullen chuckled, “Yes, it’s something I like to do to clear my head, and you’ve seemed…full-headed, let’s say, as of late.”
Dorian huffed a laugh, “That would be one way to put it, yes.”
Cullen smiled and gestured to the garden, “Shall we, then?”
They didn’t say much as they walked to the garden, but Cullen began to explain as he pulled out Dorian’s chair for him, “My sister and I used to play chess against each other in hopes of beating our father one day.” He walked around to take his seat once Dorian was settled. “Eventually, she became even better at the game than Dad, so the new goal was for me to beat her. My brother and I practiced for months, hoping one of us would be able to beat her at least once. The look on her face when I finally won…”
The memory of triumph put the sweetest, most juvenile smile on Cullen’s scarred lips. Dorian couldn’t help but inquire, “A girl and two boys? Sounds like you parents had their work cut out for them.”
“Two girls and two boys, actually. Mia is the eldest, Rosalie is the youngest. I’m the older of us boys, however. Branson is a few years younger than me.”
Dorian scoffed with shock, “Quite a large family, isn’t it? And to think, I have no entertaining sibling stories to share.”
“Only child? You must have been spoiled, getting all the attention.” Cullen moved a piece on the board to start off the match.
Dorian gave a single harsh laugh. “Hardly; if my parents spent money on me, it was for my schooling. Only the most prestigious academies for their little heir.” Dorian rolled his eyes as he made his move, sitting back and crossing his arms after.
Cullen’s expression was so gentle and sympathetic. Dorian didn’t enjoy being pitied, but he knew Cullen wasn’t the type.
“Children should be free to have fun. It wasn’t fair of them to make you work so hard.”
Dorian felt a deep compressed anger bubble up before he said, “Children should be free to have fun, teenagers should be free to have fun, and I believe adults should be free to have fun. We should all just have fun with whomever we want and no one should have the right to judge us for it.”
Arms crossed over his chest, Dorian took a moment to calm down before looking back up to meet Cullen’s gaze. He seemed shocked and a little worried. Dorian looked at him expectantly with eyebrows raised.
“Uh, yes, I agree!” Cullen rushed to assure him, “I’m just not sure where that came from. Is that what’s been bothering you these past few days?”
Dorian sighed, “I suppose it’s part of it. That has been bothering me for most of my life, truthfully.”
The rest of the match was played in silence, Cullen only interjecting once to call Dorian out for cheating. They both laughed as Dorian replaced the affected piece, but they fell quiet again to finish the game.
“I believe that’s Checkmate.”
Dorian shook his head playfully, “You’re in the right line of work, it seems. Strategy is your forte. Good game, Commander.”
“And to you, Dorian. Care to play another round?”
As much as he was enjoying Cullen’s company, Dorian’s mind was tired from all his worrying—though this had been a good distraction—and he just needed to rest.
“I’m afraid not. I’ve things I wanted to get done today, I’m sorry.”
Cullen rose from his seat, “It’s no problem at all.”
Dorian rose as well, but neither went anywhere. They both just stood, looking softly at the other.
“Um…” Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck. “Could I walk you back to your quarters, then? Or wherever it is you’re headed.”
Dorian felt a flattered smile tease the corner of his lips. “I would like that, yes.”
On the steps up to the loft of the main hall, Dorian cleared his throat before speaking, “I apologize for my outburst earlier. I’ve just been thinking about my life back home recently.”
Cullen shook his head and placed a gentle hand on the mage’s back, “You have nothing to apologize for. I was hoping a game of chess would help clear your mind, so I was expecting you to vent a bit.”
At Dorian’s door Cullen added, “You know, you should feel free to talk to me. About anything. I said that when we first met, and it hasn’t changed just because you’re no longer under my command.”
As he stood in the doorway, Dorian glanced from Cullen to inside his room, wondering if he should act on their mutual attraction, or continue avoiding Cullen forever. How would Cullen be hurt if Dorian’s lies came to light? Not nearly as badly if they were just friends.
Dorian took a deep breath, “Maybe talking would help.”
Cullen smiled loosely.
“Or…” I’m really going through with this, aren’t I? “maybe not talking would help…”
Cullen’s smile fell away as he caught Dorian’s meaning. He didn’t make any move toward or away from Dorian, just like the first time he had been in his room. He simply said, in the quietest voice just above a whisper, “Whatever you’d like, I’m here.”
That was Dorian’s last chance to not do something stupid, but he ignored his racing heart. “I’d like you to come in.”
Cullen took a single stride into the room, closing the door and locking it behind them. He slowly closed the distance between them, placing caring hands on Dorian’s hips, waiting for more invitation.
Dorian let his hands glide up the armor on Cullen’s chest, watching his fingers draw closer to Cullen’s neck, the blond’s eyes studying his unsure expression all the while.
Just as skin met skin, Cullen whispered, “We don’t have to do this. No one’s making us. If you’re not certain—”
“I’m certain about you,” Dorian met his gaze, “I’m only uncertain about letting myself do this. I’ve fucked this up before, I don’t want to fuck it up with you.”
Cullen let out a pained sigh, gently taking Dorian's face in his hands and kissing him. How could something so soft be so intense all at once? Dorian dug his fingers into the fur mantle of Cullen’s armor, walking them backward toward the bed. With each step, a new article of clothing fell away, until they finally fell onto the bed in only their trousers. Cullen’s attention turned to the mage’s neck, Dorian biting his lip at the sensation.
Cullen’s kisses moved up and down and back up slowly and methodically, making Dorian arch off the bed ever so slightly with each touch, subtle noises escaping his lips. Cullen wrapped his tongue around the shell of Dorian’s ear, breathing heavy but quiet, “I can’t begin to tell you how you make me feel. I adore everything about you. I admire your confidence and how unabashedly ‘you’ you are. I can hardly stand to be away from you the more I get to know you.”
Dorian was nearly breathless as Cullen kissed his way down the mage’s chest. It wasn’t until those callused fingers started to loosen his laces that he felt he couldn’t breathe at all.
As Cullen made tantalizing work of Dorian’s last remaining garment, he whispered with raw emotion, “Nothing could change the way I feel about you, Dorian Rider.”
With that, Dorian sat up and grabbed Cullen’s hands to pause their work.
“Stop.”
Cullen’s head shot up to look Dorian in the eye, worry flooding his mind. “Are you ok?” he lifted himself to sit on the edge of the bed next to the mage, caressing his cheek with one hand, stroking his hair with the other.
“You don’t know me, Cullen. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Confusion washed over Cullen’s features, “I…I don’t understand. I want to know you. I feel like I do, but if I don’t, then I want—”
Dorian shook his head vigorously, “Cullen, you don’t get it! You wouldn’t want me if you knew me.”
Cullen’s eyes went stern, “Dorian, I just told you nothing could change my feelings for you. Nothing. I meant that.”
Dorian removed Cullen’s hand from his face, gently stroking the Commander’s knuckles with his thumb, “Please go, Cullen. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You could never hurt—”
“Please,” Tears threatened the rims of his eyes as he tried to hold his ground. He wanted nothing more than Cullen’s body against his, but he knew Cullen would only be let down, falling for a fake man Dorian created.
Cullen took a moment to lean his head against Dorian’s, a wordless goodbye, before he rose and began throwing on his armor, scattered from the door to the foot of the bed. Dorian watched his hands as Cullen silently dressed, glancing back periodically to gauge the mage’s feelings.
As he opened the door to leave, Cullen’s weak voice called back, “You can tell me anything, Dorian. I meant that, too.”
“Not anything.”
The room turned cold when Cullen left, and the breeze from the door closing behind his one chance at love shook the tears from Dorian’s eyes, falling onto his shaking hands.
He could have been sitting there for hours—he wouldn’t know—just trying to…well, he wasn’t sure of that either. He felt so numb despite the tears he could feel on his cheeks. He couldn’t decide if he needed a drink, a good sob, or some self-pleasuring. None of them would make him feel better, but they would make him feel something.
He’s gone. Dorian kept repeating in his head. He’s gone, and I sent him away. He confessed his feelings to me, feelings I share, and I told him to go. I can never get him back, I sent him away…
__________
He didn’t remember falling asleep, but when the bells rang out, his eyes opened. They were dry and sore from crying; probably still red, too. Dorian reluctantly dragged his body out from under the fur blankets and sulked over to his mirror. Yes, definitely still red. He didn’t want to go out like that. He didn’t want to go out at all, for fear he might have to face his lost lover.
No, I didn’t lose him. Dorian stared himself down in the mirror, I pushed him away.
Dorian managed to make himself presentable, but he felt like a fraud in his own skin. He had settled into the identity of Dorian Rider, but somehow Cullen had undone all his hard work. Dorian was once again faced with himself, nothing to cover the shame he felt lying to a man who cared for him so deeply. And yet, he made no effort to tell Cullen the truth.
He would only be hurt that I lied to him, things are better this way. Interesting, the way Dorian continued attempting to convince himself he was in the right, when every part of him knew better.
Before he could psychoanalyze any further, Dorian pushed his chair back from the vanity and marched out the door, leaving his doubt at the threshold.
On the walk to the library, he felt like people were looking at him differently. They weren’t, when he looked closer, but nothing felt comfortable anymore. And things only became more uncomfortable when in the main hall Dorian’s eyes locked with golden ones on the other side of the room.
Cullen was entering the hall to the war room, papers tucked under his arm, when he glanced up, double taking before locking his gaze with Dorian’s. He wanted to run to the Commander, throw himself into the blond’s arms and apologize for everything. But melting on the other side of the hall would have to do. Cullen’s stare went soft as he saw the pain in Dorian’s eyes. They both knew the other was aching for their love, but both were too scared.
Cullen finally shook his head and looked down at his boots, disappearing into the ambassador’s office without a word.
Dorian tried to brush it off, tried to focus on his research, but to no avail. His mind was flooding with his mistakes. Though his eyes trekked the page in front of him, though his fingers turned the pages, he processed nothing. His mind was too full.
If there’s any perfect place to brood, it would be a library. Everyone passed Dorian without suspicion, assuming him to be lost in his work, all the while his crisis played out in silence. By the time the sun was setting, Dorian had read several works, but only had a page of notes. He tried to be productive, at least.
Now he had a choice to make: go back to his room and sleep his problems away, or go to the tavern and drink his problems away. Decisions, decisions.
Drowning his sorrows did sound tempting, but Dorian had pretended to be okay around enough people today. Besides, he didn’t need Bull to dive into his subconscious.
Dorian reached his quarters and, just as he prepared to shed his clothes and fall into a fitful sleep, a frantic knock rattled his door. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound. He waited a moment, but nothing more happened. Dorian slowly approached the door and unfastened the latch. Right as he did, the door flew open, nearly knocking him back.
Cullen charged into the room with a wrinkled piece of parchment strangled in his fist. He slammed the door behind him, and somehow quietly screamed, “What, by Andraste, is this?!”
He held up the letter just long enough for Dorian to see a familiar signature at the bottom of the page. “Halward Pavus.” Oh, Maker, no.
Dorian’s jaw dropped, eyes wide, hands turning clammy. He had no words, not that Cullen was interested in listening.
Cullen threw the note behind him, roughly grabbing Dorian’s shoulders and pushing him into the vanity behind them. Dorian tried to babble a “this isn’t what it looks like” before the backs of his thighs collided with the table and a pair of harsh, sweet, warm lips crashed against his.
Before he could return the kiss, or even close his eyes, Cullen pulled away and stared him down. “You really had me falling for you. Was that your plan? Get close to the Commander of the Inquisition so you could leach information from me to send back to your Venatori parents?!”
“No, Cullen, I would never—”
“You made me fall in love with you.”
That word took all Dorian’s breath. His previously pounding heart stopped. Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized what he had done, the pain he caused, the trust he’d broken. This is all he wanted to prevent.
“I-I’m so sorry, I never wanted this—”
“You aren’t even going to deny it?!” Cullen stood back from him, disgust in his eyes. That look alone could ruin Dorian.
“Cullen, please! I’m not Venatori! I tried to hide because I knew you’d think a Tevinter mage was Venatori, I knew you would think I was a spy, or a thief, or—”
“Lying only makes you look guiltier, Dorian! Bull told us exactly what he was going to do if he joined the Inquisition and we took him on his word because we were desperate. If you had told us, told me the truth—”
“Would you believe a mage walking through your gates saying, ‘Yes, I am a very powerful necromancer from Tevinter, but I swear I’m not Venatori’?”
Cullen’s face contorted again, backing up further, “You’re a necromancer?”
Dorian should have held his tongue. If he had stayed quiet, would they have given him a trial? But he supposed staying quiet is what led to this mess in the first place.
“Cullen I—please, give me a moment to explain! I never wanted you to get hurt, I didn’t mean to fool you into falling for me. I promise you, I never wanted any of this!”
Cullen’s voice dropped, “You didn’t mean for me to fall in love with you?”
Dorian’s shoulders relaxed, “No—well, yes. I—I hoped you were falling too because, Cullen, I lo—”
Cullen’s jaw clenched and he nearly gripped Dorian again, taking all the strength he had to hold back. “Don’t…say it.”
“But, Cullen, I really do—”
Cullen was on him in an instant, hands digging into his hair, lips locked in a heated kiss. Passion mixed with anger and confusion as the two men lost themselves in physical sensation.
Dorian gasped for air as the kiss finally broke, Cullen asking through panting breath, “Make me believe you. Prove you’re the same man I loved.”
Dorian searched the blond’s face for something that could help him, but he found only hurt and betrayal. “I…I can’t.” he didn’t know how he could fix this, he didn’t think he could.
Tears finally fell from Cullen’s eyes as he looked to the floor, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away, not wanting Dorian to see just how much he’d hurt him.
“Get out. Take your things, food, lyrium potions. I don’t care, take whatever you want, just…”
Dorian held his breath, devastated to hear what came next, “I don’t ever want to see your face again.”
He was crushed, he felt like his legs would give out from under him. But Dorian moved as he was told, gathering his things, tears staining each item he touched.
Cullen refused to look at him, keeping his back to Dorian as the mage packed all he could.
Dorian approached the door slowly, hoping Cullen would stop him to say something more, something that could bring Dorian hope for seeing each other again. But he got no such reply.
“Don’t let anyone see you leave. I’m going to tell them you vanished into the night before I could confront you. They won’t come looking for you. Neither will I.” Cullen’s glazed eyes rose to look into Dorian’s, puffy and bloodshot. “Goodbye, Dorian.”
His heart sank. He felt like he might vomit, if he had any strength. He felt so weak and lost.
“Goodbye, Cullen.”
With those final words, Dorian was gone. He did as Cullen told him, making sure no one witnessed him leave into the dark. With nowhere else to go, he headed toward Miss Ella’s farm. Dorian didn’t know how he would tell her, but he was done lying. He’d hurt the most important person to him already, nothing could be worse.
__________
Cullen stood in the empty room with his eyes closed, hands over his face, wiping away his tears so he could pretend he wasn’t hurt. After taking a moment to compose himself, Cullen began searching the room halfheartedly. He threw open drawers without really looking, making the place look ransacked in a rush. Once he’d scattered things in a believable way, he turned his attention to the lock on the door. He took the hilt of his sword and knocked the latch loose, making it look like he had broken in. That should be enough to convince his fellow advisors.
Cullen quickly returned to the war room where many members of the inner circle, along with the Inquisitor and his advisors, waited in anticipation for the Commander’s return. As the door swung open, all heads turned toward him, each with equally expectant and worried looks. Cullen’s face was blank, but his feeling of defeat was still obvious.
“Well?” Cassandra stepped forward, worry in her eyes but anger on her face, “Where is that Venatori bastard?”
Cullen sighed deeply, the rest of the room raising their brows in unison.
“Gone. I didn’t find him in the ‘Rest or his room.”
Cassandra scoffed, “Then we send a search party. Check all corners of Skyhold, then we—”
“We can send all the search parties you want, Lady Seeker, but there’s nothing left of him here. I broke into his quarters and looked for any information as to where he could be or what he hoped to gain by joining our ranks, but I found nothing. He either took everything important with him, or destroyed it.”
Everyone’s heads fell, shoulders slouching in defeat.
The Inquisitor looked to Cullen with sadness strewn across his features. “And to think, we had all become so close…and it meant nothing to him.”
Tears threatened Cullen’s eyes again as he remembered how desperately Dorian had clung to him, tied to convince him he was innocent. But innocent men don’t hide, innocent men don’t lie.
“I know. But that must have been what he wanted. For us all to get comfortable, slowly leaking him the information he needed.” He closed his eyes tightly, shaking and dropping his head, “I should have never let him join the inner circle. I’m sorry, Inquisitor.”
The Inquisitor looked back to his party, nodding toward the door. All but the advisors exited the war room, leaving the room silent and cold. Once the space was empty of onlookers, the Inquisitor shuffled over to Cullen with wet eyes. They looked at one another for a long moment before the Inquisitor wrapped his arms around Cullen’s waist. Cullen’s eyes widened in shock, looking down at the elf hanging onto him for dear life, before he gave in and squeezed the Dalish’s shoulders in return.
They stood like that for a moment, Leliana and Josephine watching on solemnly, wrapped in their own somber embrace. The elf pulled back but stayed close, saying in a quiet voice, “He was my friend, Cullen. Our friend,” he gestured to the women behind him, “I know he was yours, too.”
Cullen felt his heart stop, then fall into the empty pit in his chest. “Yes,” he said gently, “the closest I’ve had since…in a while.”
The elf made certain the door closed quietly behind him as he left, Josephine following closely behind. Before Leliana made her move to leave as well, she handed Cullen a short stack of papers.
With a soft voice, she said, “I’m sure this isn’t the best time to tell you, but I started digging right after we intercepted the letter. I found the names of a few close friends and accomplices of the Pavus family. One of which has been heavily involved with the Venatori since before the term was coined, before they worshipped Corypheus.”
Cullen flipped through the pages, sloppily skimming the words on each one.
“Name?” Cullen asked, no nonsense.
“Gereon Alexius, a former mentor and family friend, from what I found. If Dorian had anything to do with the magicks Alexius had been developing…”
“I’ll go over it in the morning. Thank you, Leliana.” Cullen’s voice was flat and flavorless.
The spymaster sighed, placing a sympathetic hand on Cullen’s cheek, palm surprisingly warm. “I know what you felt for him. When I first joined the Hero of Ferelden on her journey…”
Cullen looked at her with understanding.
Leliana cleared her throat, never having gotten this personal with the Commander before. “Well, people have feelings that sometimes contradict with their goals. And they choose which to follow. Often, I think, they choose the wrong path.”
Cullen nodded, eyes squeezing shut with hurt.
“What I’m trying to say is this: I wonder if he didn’t lie to you about the way he felt, but knew it wouldn’t align with his plans.”
“I can’t have feelings for someone who supports the Venatori’s agenda. He fooled me, Leliana. I fell for a man that doesn’t exist.”
Leliana’s hand fell from his cheek. “Have you considered his personality may have been real?”
Cullen opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out, his brow simply furrowed.
She gave a slight smile, “Please rest, Commander. The war can wait a night.”
__________
Cullen didn’t sleep that night, his dreams plagued by images of Dorian and echoes of their final goodbyes. He could still feel the mage’s thin fingers in his hair, the passion and meaning in each kiss they shared. Cullen would wake frequently throughout the night, sweating and conflicted, his emotions at war with reality.
It was futile after a while, and only served to drain his energy more each time he woke, so he stopped trying to rest, instead making his way down to his office to mull over Leliana’s research. The blond felt hopeless as he read, not recognizing any of the names of the influential families mentioned, despite them all being connected to someone he thought he knew.
As he skimmed the next few pages—mostly filled with descriptions of how money was passed amongst the families for favors, something Josephine could use later—Cullen’s eyes paused on a description of Dorian. The quote seemed to be a letter sent from a man called Felix, to Dorian’s father:
“Lord Pavus,
My father has been rather busy with his project, so he asked me to write you in his place. Dorian has been of exponential help with his academic knowledge, but also with his experience. My father truly appreciates you continuing to allow Dorian to remain with us. As promised, he is kept an eye on, allowed only to leave the grounds with the accompaniment of myself or a guard. Speaking personally, your son is a great man. He has been nothing but honest with us, and I consider him a friend. I am starting to suspect he does not know my father’s intent with their project, and I am beginning to worry he may cease work if he discovers its purpose. Know that, should that happen, I will not stop him. Our task was to keep him from trouble, and if he deems the project as such, I will trust his judgement. My father and I have different views on these types of magicks; Dorian seems to enjoy thinking about the hypothetical, but he agrees that these things are better left to imagination. While the project is important to my father—and of course to myself, if it can work to cure me—I feel a need to allow Dorian to do what is best for himself. These are my intentions, not my father’s. He has all intentions to hold up his end of your bargain. I have made no such promises to you. Be aware of that.
Yours Truly,
Felix Alexius
P.S. Dorian asks that you do not attempt to contact him directly. He has nothing to say to you.”
Cullen could deduce two things from the letter: Felix Alexius is Gereon Alexius’s son, and whatever they were working on was magic most people have an aversion to. Could it be blood magic? What would blood magic have to do with curing someone of an ailment? Even if this Felix was possessed, blood magic could only transfer the demon to another living being, not banish it. Blood magic is a demon’s domain.
As much as he tried to focus on what information he could draw about their “project”, Cullen couldn’t help but see how devoted Felix was to Dorian. While he claimed in the letter to consider Dorian a friend, could they have been more? Another detail about Tevinter Dorian had hidden.
“Nothing but honest?” Cullen thought aloud, “If only. Would have saved me a few headaches.”
Cullen drug a hand over his face, wiping away a tear he hadn’t noticed pooling in the corner of his eye. This was harder than he thought it would be, to consider his paramour could be capable of aiding the Venatori, or even worse, being one of them.
He took a moment to collect himself before dressing in his usual armor and setting off for the war room where he would wait for the morning to fully rise and his fellow advisors to arrive.
Entering the hall leading to the war room, Cullen was greeted by Josephine at her desk looking exhausted, mulling over paper work of her own. She looked up upon hearing the door creak open and gave him a weak smile.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked knowingly, fixing her frazzled hair.
Cullen nodded, “I see you couldn’t either. Manage to dig up anything else?”
Josephine sighed, bringing a tall stack of parchment up from the floor by her feet. “There are many noble families associated with the Venatori. Most are from Tevinter, of course, but there are a surprising handful from Antiva.”
Cullen plopped into the seat in front of Josephine’s desk, about to start sorting through the things she’d dug up, when the door creaked again, Leliana leaning her head in.
“I thought I heard you up, Josie. Commander.” She nodded to Cullen in greeting.
He nodded back, handing her his notes from the morning, “I found a letter in what you gave me, from a young man named Felix. It looks like he’s Alexius’s son, and he knows what they were working on. Something big, something dangerous, something even Dorian seemed hesitant about.”
“Blood magic?” Josephine asked, walking around her desk to peer over Leliana’s shoulder.
“That was my first thought, but the people of Tevinter have a long history with blood magic; I wouldn’t think a Tevinter would have any qualms about using it. No, this must be something people don’t play with.”
The women shook their heads in unison. “Corypheus is driving his followers to play with the laws of nature.” Leliana said under her breath.
“Possibly. We need to find Alexius before he completes his project, if he hasn’t already.”
The women nodded, Josephine rushing off to wake the Inquisitor.
As the door swung closed, Leliana turned to face the Commander, kneeling on the ground before him. “Are you feeling any better? I take it you didn’t sleep well.”
Cullen shook his head, leaning forward in defeat. “I understand you have eyes everywhere around Skyhold, but how is it you knew about me and Dorian, but didn’t know Dorian was pretending to be someone else?”
Leliana sighed, crossing her legs under her, “I don’t know. I feel like I failed us, I let such a huge threat pass through our defenses. He must have been extremely careful. It…it makes me wonder if he has other correspondents in our ranks.”
Cullen nearly choked on his bitter laugh, “One thing at a time, Leliana. If there were any other Tevinters in the Inquisition, they would have fled with Dorian. They’d know they had been found out. We can look into it after we find this mentor of Dorian’s and find out what that secret project is all about.”
It didn’t seem to make the spymaster any less nervous, picking at her fingernails and staring into her lap. Cullen sighed, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, “You haven’t failed anyone. I’m the only fool here.”
Before she could reassure him, the door flew open again, the Inquisitor and Josephine holding yet more research. Cullen stood, bowing his head respectfully.
“What’s this about a secret project?” The elf asked, almost panting.
“I found a letter from Dorian’s mentor’s son describing a project using magicks none of them felt comfortable messing around with. We’ve ruled out blood magic; we think it could be something even more threatening.”
“Are we certain? Dorian seemed very against blood magic when we spoke about it. He almost looked sick talking about it.” The Inquisitor nearly snatched the letter from Cullen’s hand when offered.
“Even if those were his true feelings on the matter, blood magic is not a rarity in Tevinter, and even this mentor and his son seemed hesitant.” Cullen explained, pointing to his notes in the margins.
The elf sighed, sitting in Cullen’s now vacant seat. “This is bad. So bad.”
“Yes…” Cullen sat as well.
After a long silence where the room seemed as tired as the people in it, Josephine spoke up.
“Should we start work on a plan of attack?”
“I’ll see if I can hunt Alexius down. Maybe find his son, if I can’t find the man himself.” Leliana was already heading back to her nook to send out spies.
The Inquisitor absentmindedly nodded, approving but reluctant. “I’ll see who wants to come along to fight an insane Venatori with some mystical secret magic. Wish me luck.” He stood and shuffled toward the door.
“Cullen, form a small band of troops. Some of the more talented Templars, if you could. I have a feeling we’ll require their abilities.”
“Yes, Ser.” Cullen said bluntly, watching the Inquisitor as he exited.
Josephine and Cullen turned to one another. “I’ll see if anyone is willing to trade their honor for a bribe. I suppose we’ll regroup after we’ve all finished. Stay strong, Commander.”
“Thank you, Josephine. I will certainly do my best.” Cullen gave a respectful bow before leaving the ambassador to her work.
As he walked down the main hall, ready to turn left through Solas’s quarters toward his office, Cullen noticed the light breeze coming from a door to his right. He glanced over and saw the garden mostly empty before the door swung shut again. He could use to clear his head.
So he turned right instead, stepping out into the garden. Cullen breathed in and held it, letting the silence wash over him. He let the breath out and began slowly pacing the garden. He brushed his gloved fingertips across the leaves in the herb planters, watched on as a bird drank from the well, and stepped over the line of ants making their way to their hill. But when he reached the gazebo, he stopped.
Cullen looked on solemnly at the chess board, pieces still set as they were when he and Dorian had played, a few knocked over from wind. Cullen sat in his seat and stared across to where Dorian should have been. He’d looked so beautiful that day, the sun backlighting and outlining his face. He had still had a sheen of sweat from sparring, glistening off his toned arms and neck. Cullen heaved a long sigh before moving one of Dorian’s pieces forward.
“Check mate,” He whispered, “You got me, Dorian.”
After a moment Cullen stood, making his way into the small Chantry set up in one of the rooms off the garden. Andraste’s likeness watched him as he entered, false golden eyes seeming to follow him. Cullen gently lowered himself onto a knee, clasping his hands in front of his face before the shrine.
“It’s been a while since I’ve done this properly.” He admitted.
Cullen proceeded to recite the Chant of Light and several prayers for the men and women he would be taking with him to battle. One for the Inquisitor, one for himself, one for his friends, and one for his family.
Before he stood, Cullen closed his eyes tightly. “He may not deserve it,” he said softly, quietly, “but Maker please, keep Dorian safe. I doubt more and more the decision I made sending him away. I should have let him say his piece. I didn’t know Dorian Pavus, but I knew my Dorian. There has to be something of the man I loved in there. It couldn’t have all been a lie. He cried for me, he told me he didn’t want to hurt me. I can’t bear the thought of it all having been manipulation. Please, wherever he is, keep him safe.”
__________
Cullen would have preferred it hadn’t taken as long as it did, but here they were two days later with plans sprawled out on the war table. Each advisor had done their work quickly but surely, getting as close to the truth as they could in such a short time frame. Cullen had his Templar volunteers and a solid fighting strategy, Leliana had her eye witnesses, and Josephine had her bribed sources.
As the Inquisitor wrapped up the meeting, all attendees on board with the plan, he asked, “Any final questions?” Hesitant to move forward with their search.
The room had a sad sort of silence, none of them sure they would return safely, or return at all. They had been lucky since Haven to avoid any true life or death battles, but they were all well aware this would be like no fight they had fought before.
With the lack of any remaining questions to help him stall, Lavellan turned to Cullen with soft eyes. “Are you ready, Commander?”
After a deep, deep breath, He nodded. They were all on their horses and off in an instant, Skyhold’s gates behind them reminding them there was no turning back.
Hours later, after following the directions Leliana’s spies could write out with any certainty, the party found themselves passing through Redcliffe Farms, past the stables and the druffalo, to a fork splitting the trotted path in two.
“This way, I think.” The Inquisitor said, checking the written description again.
“Are you sure?” Cullen chimed in quickly, riding up to align their horses so he could glance over the elf’s shoulder. “The only thing up the hill is the watchtower. A stream beyond that. I expect if the Venatori were holed up there, the stable master and his wife would have noticed. Certainly our guards in the tower would have seen them come and go.”
Lavellan chewed the inside of his lip as he became less convinced they weren’t out on a wild goose chance. “The reports just say ‘Venatori activity traced back to Redcliffe Farms. Suspected to be in Dead Ram Grove.”
Increasingly frustrated by the vague intel they had managed to scrounge up practically overnight, Cullen let out a scoff. “Dead Ram Grove is the start of the stream, where the water flows down from the mountains. The only thing there is water and sheep. Obviously Leliana’s helpers need their heads examined. It’s pointless to even look.”
As Cullen turned his horse around, ready to head back to the farm and ask around, the Templars all perked up in unison.
“Commander,” Barris pulled his horse to block Cullen’s path. “There is magic here. It’s faint, not like a mage is present, but a spell they left behind. Whether they remain here, or have since left the area, I still believe it’s worth investigating.”
Cullen looked over his shoulder for conformation, the Inquisitor already leading the group ahead. While he trusted Barris’s sense for magic, Cullen also felt dread, part of him hoping they wouldn’t find anything Venatori related. Or at least nothing that would confirm Dorian’s connection to them. But he followed dutifully, returning to his position right next to the Inquisitor.
As they passed the watch tower overlooking the farm, and led their horses to wade through the water as they followed upstream, Cullen’s heart raced. The Templars continued to sense lingering magic, perhaps even an active enchantment; a ward meant to hide things in plain sight.
“Dispell,” Cullen commanded, Barris and his soldiers taking deep swigs of lyrium. Cullen averted his eyes as they did.
Moving as one, the Templars gave two hardy hits each to their shields, and a shock wave erupted out from their group. It made no noise, but bounced off the walls of Dead Ram Grove like an echo. The party stayed silent in waiting.
Distant voices could be heard speaking Tavene.
Cullen and Lavellan whipped their heads around to look at each other with wide eyes. “Venatori!”
Hurried but quiet, the party leapt off their horses, loosely draping their reins over branches to keep the steeds in place. They followed the voices to a low cliff overlooking the grove. There was little foot traffic, with overgrown grass and weeds, dead trees leaning to make a morbid arch. As they inched closer, a small sconce lit on its own, causing the Inquisitor to jump.
He took a hesitant step forward, narrowing his eyes at the greenish blue flame. “Veil fire.” He whispered behind him. “That means mages.”
Part of Cullen’s heart sank. While he knew this would lead them to gaining an edge against Corypheus, a selfish part of him wanted them to find nothing, so he would never learn more about just how much Dorian had lied to him.
Entering the ruins of what must have been an old exit from the deep roads, massive stone pillars loomed, along with menacing statues of cloaked skeletons driving their swords into the ground. The group felt uneasy, each member fidgeting and glancing to every corner of the room. It was dark, but the light from outside showed them a staircase leading even further into the earth, and further into darkness.
Cullen blocked the Inquisitor from continuing, rather taking the lead himself to protect the elf from a possible ambush. Making their way forward only led them to darker and darker rooms, no torches in sight, only dim Veil fires that continued to flare up ominously as they approached each sconce.
Just as they entered the final room of the cave ruin, Cullen starting to think there may be nothing here after all, the room came to life, sconces bursting into multicolored flames, illuminating the space to reveal that they were surrounded.
“Inquisitor,” a dark figure in Tevinter robes grinned smugly from a ruined throne at the far end of the room. “Welcome.”
“Sheath your weapons,” the surrounding mages demanded, drawing ever closer with staves outstretched.
The party looked to Lavellan for instruction, and he nodded, returning his sword to his back. The group followed suit.
“We were beginning to wonder if you might realize how close we had drawn. Corypheus sends his regards.” The mage stood from his seat, tossing back his hood and crossing his arms behind him.
“Oh, we found you out quickly,” Lavellan snarled, “Your little spy wasn’t as stealthy as he thought. Maybe you should handle your correspondents’ communications more carefully.”
The Tevinter’s brow raised, looking surprised, but always taunting. “My ‘spy’?” he inquired with a lilted voice, “Do tell, Inquisitor.”
Cullen rolled his eyes. “No need to play coy, Alexius. We intercepted Magister Pavus’s attempts to contact his son, whom you so clumsily slipped into our ranks.” Cullen’s bitterness and blame had all lifted off of Dorian in that moment as he directed his hurt onto Alexius, the man responsible for all this heartbreak in the first place, as far as Cullen was concerned.
“Magister Pavus’s son?” Alexius’s grin dropped, “You speak of Dorian, Commander?”
Cullen flinched at the mention of the mage’s name.
Alexius looked to the throne behind him, tracing a finger along the arm. “My poor Dorian; if only he could have seen the good he could achieve. Not only for Tevinter, for the world.”
Cullen was in shock at what he was hearing. If Alexius hadn’t sent Dorian to the Inquisition, then who did? Could all that Dorian said, that fateful night on which he was banished from Cullen’s sight, be true after all? From where he stood, all Cullen could see was a backlit outline, but the mage before them began to make an obvious, sinister movement toward his pocket.
“What Dorian never realized, what I tried to teach him through our research, is that Thedas…Thedas needs direction,” his voice was low as he turned, eyes glistening with intent, knowing he had won.
“Thedas needs control.”
Blue light began sparking in the mage’s palm, lighting his crazed expression from below, broken sounds of laughter escaping his lips as he raised his hand higher.
The Inquisitor and Cullen watched on with masked fear as a small talisman on a leather cord began to rise on its own from the palm of Alexius’s hand, crackling in an unstable, uncontrolled manner. Just as dread and the weight of their own mortality began washing over the party, a voice called out from a shadowy corner:
“No! I won’t let you do this.”
The blue cast vanished at once, the talisman dropping from its ominous floating and back into the mage’s hand. Alexius whipped his neck around, eyes worried and shocked at once, obviously recognizing the voice. The young man had dark, tired eyes as he revealed himself from the dark. His skin lacked color, and his hair was thin. He looked as if he had lived a man’s full life in only a few years, and he was exhausted.
“Felix!” Alexius ran to the young man’s side. “My son, you should be resting, you’re too weak; you look so pale!”
Cullen’s shoulders relaxed as he heard the familiar name. “Felix?” he said quietly, then directing his question to the man himself, “You were friends with Dorian, weren’t you?”
Felix pushed past his father, standing before the party with confidence. “I am. I know him well, and I know he would never have helped with your project if he knew what you planned to use it for.” He turned to face Alexius, pointing an accusing finger. “You lied to him! You lied to me! You said this was for my health, that you thought this could save me! You betrayed his trust, my trust!”
His eyes went somber as he quietly asked, “What would mother think?”
That sent Alexius into a rage, shouting furiously, “This could bring her back! Both of you would be safe, healthy, happy! I did this all for you both!”
Tears began to well in his eyes as Felix retorted, voice meek and sad, “No. She would have never wanted this.”
Alexius became irate, nostrils flaring and fists clenching, “How dare you!!” he screamed. “You have the opportunity to have your mother back, to have never lost her at all, and you tell me she would never want this? You stand before me, your own father, who has loved and raised you single handedly since she passed, telling me this isn’t all for you?!”
“Raised me? Single handedly?! What about all the days, even weeks, I went without seeing you because you were too hung up on your project? Too lost in the past to spend time with your own son? After my mother died in front of my eyes!”
Alexius’s hands began to burn with fire, the talisman feeding off of his rage and sparking once again. “You would be in the grave with her if it weren’t for me! All that research, just to keep you alive for all these years! You would have died within days of her if it weren’t for all my time spent in that damned laboratory, slaving over revolutionary medicines I now learn you weren’t even grateful for!”
“I wish I had died with her!” Felix’s cry echoed through the stone of the ruin walls. “I’ve been suffering for years! I feel the Blight eating away at me from the inside every moment I continue to breathe! You have no idea the pain you’ve put me through!”
The room fell silent, Alexius thinking on his son’s hurtful words.
“Well,” he said after a long while, voice raspy with emotion, “If my magic can’t serve to help you,” he clenched the talisman with ferocity, “It will serve Corypheus just fine!”
The room lit with blue lightening, the talisman flying into the center of the space and igniting with quick bursts of magical energy, barely controlled. Alexius howled with mad laughter, arms outstretched to feed the talisman with all his mana, fueling the chaotic reaction.
“Father, No!” Felix screamed, throwing himself at Alexius, tackling him to the ground.
While the Venatori were distracted, all watching in awe at the display of power destabilizing in the center of the room, the Inquisitor sprinted forward, drawing his sword and charging to take Alexius out for good. But, from the corner of his eye as he wrestled with his own son, Alexius spotted the elf’s attack. He managed to get a hand free from Felix, commanding the talisman to explode with a magical fury of light spiritual wisps, imploding inward on itself, sucking the Inquisitor in as he screamed in agony, his every essence torn across time and space. Cullen and the Templars watched on in abject horror, Lavellan’s blood curdling cries echoing in their minds.
Though the Inquisitor was gone, his blade continued his momentum, flying across the room and driving directly into Alexius’s shoulder, causing him to tumble off Felix and crash onto the stone floor.
“Venatori! Attack the Inquisitor’s reinforcements!!” Alexius hollered as he stumbled off to his escape.
“Retreat!” Cullen commanded, tailing Barris and the rest of the Templars as they fled, defending them against attacks from behind as they fought through the Venatori hoard before them.
Once there was a hole in the opposition’s defense, Cullen called out, “To the watchtower! Tell them to fire on the river! Shoot anything that moves!”
The Commander fought off those trying to prevent their escape, helping his team push to the ruin entrance. When they reached the threshold, each member jumped back onto their horses, galloping off to the watchtower and the camp just beyond Redcliffe Farms for backup.
“Open fire! Venatori!” Barris yelled to the watchtower guards. A shower of arrows came down almost instantly, flying just behind their horses, taking out many of the Venatori swordsmen. But the mages hadn’t left the mouth of the ruin, and Cullen was right there waiting for them. Dodging the hail of arrows and trying not to fall off the short cliff, Cullen fought back as many of the mages as he could while he waited for backup from the camp. Barris came riding back in just in time to save Cullen’s back from an attack he didn’t see coming.
As their numbers dwindled, it became easier for the Templars to dispel almost all the defensive magicks the Venatori were using, causing the remaining few mages to panic and retreat back into the ruin, following Alexius’s escape route.
Exhausted, but still on edge, Cullen and Barris’s Templars made their way back to the farm to regroup and process what had just happened. What had happened to the Inquisitor?
As they rounded the corner to check on the guards at the watchtower, Cullen heard footsteps running up behind them.
“There’s a straggler!” He called out, pulling out his sword and shield again, ready to strike.
“No, don’t shoot! I want to help you!”
Cullen stayed poised as he watched the man come into view. It was Felix, panting and running toward them, unarmed.
“What did you do with the Inquisitor?!” Cullen inched closer to Felix, still not convinced he could let his guard down.
Felix stopped several feet away, leaving enough room so Cullen felt unthreatened. He raised his hands above his head to show he meant no harm. “He’s not dead, I can promise that much, but I don’t know where he is.” His hands lowered as he scratched his chin in contemplation. “Well, that’s not quite what I mean. I know where he is; he’s here.”
Cullen’s sword and shield lowered and he looked at Felix with confusion.
“What I should say is: I don’t know when he is.”
Frustrated, Cullen ground his teeth, “Enough being cryptic! Just tell us where Alexius took him!”
Felix shook his head. “This is going to take a lot of explaining, and it will sound outlandish, but you have to believe me. I was there when my father and Dorian developed this, I know how it—”
“Spit it out!” Barris barked, now standing next to Cullen, also ready to fight.
Felix sighed, “He sent the Inquisitor through time.”
The Templars looked around at each other, none having heard of such magic before.
“Don’t lie to us, boy! We have you surrounded.” Barris raised his shield in preparation before his arm was pushed down.
“He isn’t,” Cullen held Barris back, then sheathing his own weapon and shield. “When we first suspected Dorian was Tevinter, Leliana found the letter we all read in the mission briefing. The letter was written by Felix, and he said the magic they were experimenting with was magic no one had ever considered manipulating before. Because it’s dangerous; one doesn’t just mess with the laws of nature.”
“You saw my letter? To Dorian’s father? So that’s how you knew of me, and that I know Dorian.” Felix approached slowly as he connected the dots. “So you must see now: Dorian knew he was developing a way to manipulate time, but he thought it was for me. He ran away, here to Ferelden, the moment my father started to speak of joining the Venatori. And he would never have helped in the first place if it wasn’t a matter of life and death.”
Cullen looked Felix up and down, taking in his thin frame, eaten away at by something inside of him. “You said in there that you’re sick. Is it really the Blight? I’ve never seen anyone survive past a day, let alone a year.”
Felix nodded sadly, eyes going even darker, “Yes. While my father is no healer, he is an excellent alchemist, and created many medicines to try and help me while he worked on a more permanent solution to curing me. That’s when he…recruited Dorian to help. It was more like blackmail, but Dorian just wanted to help me.” He looked down at his hands, wringing them nervously. “He was like a brother to me. He never knew this would happen.”
Barris lowered his weapons completely, but would not sheath them. “Then…did you send Dorian to the Inquisition?”
Felix’s eyes went wide, “No, I never even knew he joined. I haven’t been able to contact him for months. It was too risky, I couldn’t have my father knowing I planned to stop him. Dorian always said he would be by my side on that day, But after we lost touch…”
Cullen felt his shoulders relax; Dorian wasn’t Venatori! What a relief. But he felt no relief, as just as the revelation swept over him, another realization came to tighten his chest. He drove Dorian away for nothing. He broke the mage’s heart, and his own, based on assumptions.
“I never let him say his piece…” Cullen thought aloud.
“What?” Barris turned to him, finally putting his weapons away. “You spoke to Dorian? When?”
Cullen wiped a hand over his face before glancing over to Felix. “It looks like the two of us have a lot of explaining to do.”
__________
As they rode their horses back to Skyhold, Barris in the lead and Cullen protecting the rear of the group, Felix tapped Cullen’s shoulder from behind.
“Cullen, is it? Could I ask you something?” Felix said as he shifted uncomfortably on the back of Cullen’s saddle.
“You’ll call me Commander until we know we can trust you.”
“I didn’t mean any disrespect, Commander, I assure you.”
Cullen had to stop himself from groaning. He would have liked to say he was angry, but the only thing jumping around in his mind was confusion. The only thing he was angry about was his decision. And frankly, he was tired of thinking about it. He was only making himself feel worse.
“Just ask your question.”
Felix nodded and asked, “I hadn’t heard from Dorian after his initial letter telling me he had arrived in Ferelden. I’m missing a lot of time between then and now. Could you tell me what happened that led to you believing Dorian was Venatori?”
Cullen heaved a deep sigh, “It’s not a short list of events, I’ll warn you.”
Felix chuckled, “We’ve nothing but time at the moment.”
“I suppose,” Cullen half-heartedly agreed.
When he finished catching Felix up to speed, the young man was silent for a long while, mulling over the details.
“It sounds like Dorian trusted you.” He prodded.
Cullen dropped his gaze to the reins in his tightly fisted hands. “I know I trusted him. I thought he had betrayed my trust when we intercepted his father’s letter, but I…” He squeezed his eyes closed, “I said things I wish I hadn’t. Things I didn’t mean. I know now that I betrayed him, just because I wouldn’t listen.”
“I still can’t believe you spoke to him before he vanished.” Barris chimed in from the front of the formation. “You lied to the entire Inquisition! Even your friends. That’s me I’m talking about, by the way. You lied to me.”
“I know.” Cullen sighed, “I’m sorry. I just…wanted to make sure he was safe. I didn’t know what the Inquisitor would do to him. But I guess it couldn’t have been much worse than what I did…” Cullen’s voice fell off as he remembered all the things he said.
I don’t ever want to see your face again…
Entering Skyhold’s gate led them directly into a crowd of people wanting to congratulate the Inquisitor on defeating the hidden Venatori forces. But when Cullen passed under the arch and into the courtyard with the Inquisitor’s empty horse led behind him, all the chattering stopped.
“Where is Lavellen?” Cassandra asked with worry. And as Cullen’s horse turned to reveal the second passenger, “And who is that?” She growled.
Cullen lowered himself off the horse, pointedly not offering Felix any help to get down, which he did ungracefully.
As he handed the reins off to a stable hand, Cullen told the Seeker, “Call a war meeting.”
__________
“You WHAT?” The ladies exclaimed in unison.
Cullen drug a hand over his face, leaning on the war table and sighing before he said, “I know it was stupid of me, but Dorian isn’t Venatori, so there’s no danger in him being out there on his own.”
“But you didn’t know that when you sent him away!” Josephine shouted, as much as the mild-mannered woman could.
“Look,” Cullen closed his eyes tightly, pinching the space between his brows, “I lied. I lied to all of you and put you in danger because I let myself get too close. I considered Dorian a friend. I didn’t want him to be in danger in the hands of the Inquisition. I’m sorry. I know I was reckless, and I’m sorry.”
The room fell quiet as the women looked to one another, silently acknowledging Cullen’s apology.
Cullen continued after recognizing the soft looks in their eyes. “But what we need to do now is find him. He’s the only one who might know how to get Lavellen back.”
“Dorian can reverse engineer a spell better than anyone I’ve ever met,” Felix added, “He’ll be able to undo this. I’m certain.”
“Well, mister ‘best friend’,” Leliana turned to Felix, annoyed that he had cut in, “Where do you propose we start our search?”
Felix took a second to think. “In his initial letter, to tell me he had arrived, Dorian mentioned he was staying with an older woman in the Hinterlands. He simply called her ‘Miss Ella’. She has a small farm, he said. I haven’t heard from him since then, so that would be my only guess.”
Cullen nodded, “Even if he’s not staying with her, he might be hiding out nearby. Runaways tend to return to places they know first.”
“I trust your ability to hunt down a mage, Commander.” Cassandra said, too dry to tell if she was joking.
But before the hunt could begin, all of Skyhold needed rest and time to absorb the news of the Inquisitor’s disappearance. No rest came to Cullen, however; as if he expected it to. His mind and heart were racing. What if they couldn’t find Dorian? Who would be able to bring back the Inquisitor?
And what if they did find Dorian? Would he forgive Cullen for what he had said? Would he attack or flee?
Worst of all: what if they found his body? Just another casualty of the war between the Templars and mages. Another victim to Corypheus’s forces.
Cullen squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head to clear the image from his mind. He couldn’t bear the thought that his final words to Dorian would be his banishment, never able to redeem himself. Never able to beg for Dorian’s forgiveness.
With his eyes still closed, Cullen heard footsteps drawing casually closer, not trying to sneak, but also cautious.
“Can’t sleep either?” the voice was still slightly distant, not wanting to get too close. Cullen opened his eyes to see Felix, immediately skeptical as to why he was being allowed to walk the castle on his own.
Felix read his expression and chuckled. “Your spymaster has someone tailing me. The Lady Seeker isn’t far behind either. You don’t have to worry, I’m not here to assassinate you or something.”
“Who knows, I might welcome it at this point,” Cullen said under his breath.
Felix’s brow pushed together, “What happened between you and Dorian?”
After a long moment of staring through Felix, the Commander dropped his gaze to his folded fingers leaning on the battlements. “He was incredible to watch. So skilled with magic and combat; it was mesmerizing.” Cullen lifted his head to look up at the stars above. “And intelligent, as well. I enjoyed talking with him about the books he was reading, and the documents I was trudging through. He never looked away while I spoke.”
Felix gave a soft smile, looking to the heavens himself. “I know exactly what you mean. Dorian loves to talk about his research and learn what others have been studying. It made him a great student, one of the reasons he caught my father’s attention as a sponsor.”
A silence fell between the men as they both remembered their friend fondly. Cullen quietly asked, “Can you tell me about the Dorian you knew?”
Felix cocked his head curiously.
“I’d like to know if any of him was the real him.”
A sympathetic smile warmed Felix’s expression. “You described Dorian pretty perfectly just then. Always willing to debate—or argue, whichever he would get the most satisfaction from—and always showing off. He pretends to be self-centered, but he’s the most caring man I’ve ever met. And while I’m not interested in men myself, I don’t think there’s a person in all of Thedas who can deny Dorian’s charm.” Felix chuckled once, “Always the flirt, that one.”
Cullen’s heart dropped. “So he flirted with everyone?” He asked in a whisper, not really meaning it as a question. But Felix still answered.
“He did, but there were always different kinds. It took me long to learn each of them.” Feeling more comfortable with their relations, Felix approached the battlements himself and leaned his hip on the stonework, crossing his arms and looking out over the mountains. “There are four types, so far as I could tell: for showmanship, for de-escalation, for banter, and for real. The showmanship is self-explanatory, Tevinter is built around relationships and marriages. Dorian had to faine interest in his women suitors to keep up appearances. De-escalation, just flirting to calm an argument. Telling people what they want to hear, you know. And of course a little flattery back and forth between friends was his favorite.”
“How could you tell if he ever meant it?” Cullen asked, hopeful.
Felix ran a hand over his hair as he thought. “Dorian is a very honest man, most of what he says he always means, even if he doesn’t say it directly. He might think a noble woman is quite pretty, for example, and rather than tell her flatly, he will go out of his way to make her smile by flirting. ‘By the Black Divine, my lady, have you any common blood to Andraste herself? You have striking eyes, just like hers! And those cheekbones, they could surely cut marble!’ He likes to make people smile.”
“And he’s very good at it,” Cullen couldn’t help the fond grin that spread his lips.
“That he is.” Felix agreed, finding himself with a smile of his own as he reminisced.
__________
Cullen stood silent with his head down, fist poised to knock against the solid wood door before him. He hadn’t had to do something like this since Kirkwall; sharing the tragic news of a Templar’s death with their family. Somehow, this felt similar, having to tell someone Dorian clearly cared about, that he wasn’t who he said. But at least he didn’t have to tell her Dorian was a Venatori spy.
He took a final deep breath before giving a hardy knock. It took only seconds for Miss Ella to answer, like she had been waiting by the door. The door swung open with an audible whoosh, to reveal an older woman with joy in her cheeks, giving way to pleasant confusion when he looked Cullen up and down.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I was expecting someone else. Is there something I can do for you, dear?” A sweet smile wrinkled the skin around her eyes.
Cullen couldn’t help but give a small smile back before clearing his throat and beginning to explain, “Commander Cullen, at your service, ma’am. We are looking for a troop previously employed in our…”
Cullen’s eyes squeezed tightly shut and he sighed, “Dorian. He stayed with you for a while, didn’t he?” He dropped his voice to a whisper so the others couldn’t hear his informality.
Miss Ella reared back a little, bringing the door closer to her so she could close it at any time. “I...oh, I rent my spare room to travelers, I suppose a ‘Dorian’ could have passed through--”
“Ma’am, please. You’re not in any trouble. Neither of you are, we just…” He couldn’t look the sweet woman in the eyes as he said, “I made a mistake. It came to our attention that he had been lying about his past, and I handled it very poorly. If he’s been back here...please, we need his help.”
Miss Ella still didn’t seem convinced, opening her lips to give a vague excuse. Cullen decided to show a little urgency.
“Ma’am, the Inquisitor is missing. Kidnapped, or otherwise incapacitated by the Venatori.”
Miss Ella gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. “Did...did he do it?”
“No, while Dorian is from Tevinter, as we found out, he has nothing to do with the Venatori. But he knows about their magic, and we need him to help us get the Inquisitor back.”
She took a moment to process before stepping aside in the doorway and beckoning them all to enter. Cullen, Felix, and Cassandra crammed into the small farmhouse, while Barris and his templars waited outside. Only Felix accepted an offer of tea.
“He did come back, but he didn’t come inside,” Miss Ella recalled as he stirred honey into Felix’s tea. “He made it nearly to the welcome mat, but no further, and said he was sorry. That he couldn’t stay because I wouldn’t be safe, and it was better if he kept the truth to himself, because he didn’t want to involve me. I figured he must have people after him, so I was expecting a visit, but not from the Inquisition.”
Tempted to sit, but ignoring the urge to slump into any nearby furniture, Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck, “Yes, well, while I’m not at liberty to say much, I made a rather large mistake that--”
“To which are you referring?” Cassandra asked with her arms crossed, scowl doned.
Cullen glowered back and continued, “...that put us all in danger. Dorian included.”
Cassandra let her arms drop, brow softening as she recognized Cullen’s regret.
“Well, as I said, he didn’t stay here long. He headed in the direction of Redcliffe, not taking the roads but going through the woods.”
They stayed long enough for Felix to finish his tea, then they were on their way north to Redcliffe, taking as odd a way they could in hopes of coming across Dorian’s trail.
After nearly an hour of trudging, one of Barris’s templars stopped.
“I smell viel fire.”
Cassandra looked at Cullen with a quirked brow. “Are you certain? How can you tell it isn’t just fire?”
Barris nodded, “I smell it too. It’s like fire but without the smoke, just the heat.”
“Any wards?” Cullen asked.
“None. It shouldn’t be hard to find him if we follow our noses.”
Cullen nodded, letting Barris lead the charge. Soon after, the group came across a very small clearing, staying in the trees to keep cover.
There in the center of the brush, surrounded by wildflowers, sat Dorian, playing with the green flames before him, deep in thought.
Cullen stared longingly, wishing he could just run out and hug the mage, hold him and never let go.
“I’ll go. You all wait here.” Cullen began pushing branches aside.
“You don’t think he’ll give you any trouble?” Barris held him back.
“No, but he will panic if he sees a group of templars coming out of the bushes at him.”
Cullen took a deep breath for courage and stepped out into the sun.
It only took a few steps before Dorian shot out of his seat and grabbed his staff, summoning a ball of fire in his hand. Cullen put his hands up, away from his sword and shield. Slowly, Dorian recognized the blond hair, honey eyes, and marble skin. His guard lowered along with his staff, but only slightly.
“C...Cullen?”
Cullen let out a sigh of relief, lowering his hands and taking a step forward.
“Stop!” Dorian yelled, “This is some kind of trick isn’t it? So what type of demon are you, hm? Rage? Envy? Desire?”
Cullen’s eyes went wide before his brow furrowed with worry, “No, Dorian it’s...it’s me. It’s Cullen.”
Dorian scoffed, “No, that’s not possible. He told me he never…” he swallowed hard. “never wanted to see me again.”
Cullen flinched at his words, seeing how much they had hurt. “I didn’t mean any of it, I swear. I was just scared, I didn’t think before I spoke, and I hurt you. I’m...Dorian, I’m so sorry.”
Cullen watched as emotions came and went in rapid succession across Dorian’s face.
“Make me believe you.” The mage whispered. “Prove you're the same man I loved.”
Those words. They struck him like a knife in the chest, tearing his heart out. Those were his words.
“I can’t…” Cullen whispered back.
Dorian’s staff fell abruptly into the grass, the fire in his hand disappearing into embers as he ran to Cullen. He wrapped his arms around the blond’s shoulders, Cullen returning the embrace just as tightly.
They pulled back, only to bring the other closer into a crashing kiss, tears spilling over onto both men’s cheeks.
“Dorian,” Cullen choked, “I’m so sorry, I said so many things I didn’t mean. I should have listened to you. Maker, I’m so--”
Dorian put a finger to the blond’s lips, then brought his to meet them. “I love you.”
Cullen’s eyes only watered more as he leaned their foreheads together and said, with all his heart. “I love you too.”
They both heard the trees opening from behind them, glancing that way to see Cassandra and Barris with his band of templars.
And Felix.
Dorian’s face lit up as he ran to meet his friend. “Felix!”
Their chests collided as each man wrapped an arm over the shoulder and around the waist of the other.
While the two were updating one another on what had happened between seeing each other last, Cassandra approached Cullen with an annoyed huff.
"So that's why you let him go." She crossed her arms.
Cullen sighed, turning to face her. "Yes," he stated, "because I didn't want him thrown in our prisons, because I didn't want him questioned for hours without rest. Because I love him. Is that what you want me to say?"
The corner of the Seeker's lips turned up on one side, barely a smile at all. She placed her hand on Cullen’s shoulder. "Yes. And I'm glad you do."
It took him off guard, but Cullen was grateful for Cassandra's understanding. He knew she read those romance novels--Varric made sure to boast about it to everyone in Skyhold--but he never expected Cassandra of all people to be forgiving.
Suddenly her face went stern. Pulling her hand away and pointing a finger, she whispered through clenched teeth, "Don't tell anyone I said that. As far as Josephine and Leliana need to know, I'm still angry with you."
Cullen tried not to grin as he nodded.
He turned back to Dorian and Felix who laughed together as Dorian placed a kiss to Felix's cheek. Cullen smiled as he watched them reconnect, a warmth filling his chest.
"I hate to interrupt a reunion," Barris cut in, "but we have grave news about the Inquisitor."
"The Inquisitor?" Dorian looked to Felix, "Your father. He didn't…"
Felix cringed as he nodded, head dropping, eyes closed tightly.
Dorian slumped, arm falling off Felix's shoulders. Cullen came behind him to place a comforting hand on his back.
"He's not dead, is he?" Dorian asked with a heaviness in his breath.
"We...we don't know." Cullen brought Dorian in by the waist, hugging him from the side. "Alexius used an amulet to...send him through time, was it?" He looked over to Felix to make sure he had gotten it right.
"So he finished it." Dorian's eyes widened with fear.
"No!" Felix put himself between Cullen and the mage, "He could never perfect it after you left. Something went wrong when he cast the spell; it wasn't like when you did it."
"You've traveled through time?" Cullen pushed Felix aside to ask Dorian.
Dorian grinned, "What? Never been with a man who invented time travel? Oh, no, of course not, how silly. Because I invented it."
"Dorian." Cullen said sternly, looking for a straight answer.
"No, I didn't go through time. Alexius and I sent an apple core a week forward in time and it came back rotten." As he gave the explanation, a wave of realization washed over Dorian, "But what's when the spell didn't work!" He grabbed Cullen but the hands with excitement. "The plan was to wipe the apple from existence, and only those who cast the spell would remember there ever having been an apple there. The fact that you all remember the Inquisitor proves the spell failed!"
"But how do we know where--when he is?" Barris asked, trying to keep up.
Dorian let go of Cullen's hands to twirl his mustache in thought. "Ah! Have you any paper, my love?"
Cullen grabbed some parchment and charcoal from one of the templars' satchels.
Dorian took the supplies eagerly, kneeling down to use his seat as a writing surface. "Look here," Dorian pulled Cullen in close as he drew a diagram, "We don't know when the Inquisitor is in time, yes? But we do know where. He'll be exactly where he was transported from."
Cullen nodded, following so far.
"So we need to go back to where and, somehow, enter the fade because--"
"Because time doesn't exist in the fade." Cullen cut in, "You can feel for his spirit and pull it back through the veil from the other side of time!"
Dorian smiled, excited that Cullen understood, "Well, I can't. While I studied the dead, I don't have any control over the spirits I use to possess the bodies. But I know someone who does."
"Solas." Cullen, Barris, and Cassandra said together.
__________
Back at Skyhold, they explained the plan to Solas, Cullen's fellow advisors still suspiciously eyeing Dorian.
"I'm impressed with your knowledge of the fade, Dorian. Yet you've never entered it, is that right?" Solas sipped at his coffee.
"I still have my sanity, that should be a dead give away."
Solas grinned, "Indeed. And yet you understand its properties well. And this plan of yours is nearly fool proof."
"Nearly?" Cullen leaned in, "We need better than nearly. We need the Inquisitor back."
Solas held up a hand to calm him, "Nearly is the best place to start. I can help you, but the Inquisitor's spirit isn't the only thing on the other side of time. We need to find his body. Both were transported, were they not?"
Dorian nodded, "Yes, that's where I'm uncertain. Can he enter the fade without performing the ritual himself?"
"Do you know the Arl of Redcliffe, Commander?" Solas asked, hands behind his back as he rounded the desk.
"You're talking about the incident with Conor and Bann Tegan. I've heard the story." He watched Solas with suspicious curiosity.
"I am. There is a way to perform the ritual on another, without entering the fade yourself…"
Cullen's eyes went wide, "No! No one is doing any blood magic!"
"Blood magic?" Dorian looked to Solas with anger. "You're suggesting I perform a blood ritual on the Inquisitor? Nonsense!"
Solas shrugged, "That is the only way I know of to return both the Inquisitor's soul and body as one."
Dorian scratched his chin as he tried to think of another way. "If I had the amulet here…"
Felix perked up, "What if I could get it from my father?"
The room looked over to Felix.
"What? Is it safe after what you did to help us?" Cullen asked.
Felix shook his head, "My father may not be in his right mind, but he's always been a father first. If I need him, he will be there with open arms."
Dorian slowly walked to Felix. "You'd steal from your own father for us?"
Felix smiled, "I would steal sweets from his personal stash for you all the time."
Dorian smiled and gave him a hardy thump on the shoulder. "Then we need to head back to Dead Ram Grove."
The day had been long and exhausting, and while time was of the essence, they all needed rest.
But Cullen couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in an attempt to find a comfortable spot, but to no avail. Finally, he decided it wasn't worth fighting and went for a walk to think.
He walked the battlements until he was sick of looking at stone walls. When he got back to his office, no more ready to sleep than before, he thought of Dorian, how he had so much more he wanted to say, and so many more apologies to make.
Heading across the bridge to the library, Cullen tried to be as quiet as possible opening the door to Solas's floor. The door creaked ever so slightly, and Cullen heard a calming voice say, "Dorian is downstairs."
He looked up to see Solas painting a mural of the fade on the atrium wall.
"Oh I was just…" Cullen started, but Solas gave him a knowing look. "Thank you." He said gently as he headed for the main hall's staircase to the basement.
Once down there, he saw a soft red light emitting from a door across the hall, where a small private office was. He smiled as he heard Dorian quietly talking to himself.
Cullen pushed the door open silently, seeing Dorian's back facing him. He snuck up and wrapped his arms around the mage’s waist. Dorian gasped before realizing who it was, then leaning his head back and humming in contentment.
"Couldn't sleep either?" Cullen asked in a breathy whisper.
Dorian sighed, "I have to know what I'm doing when I reverse the amulet's magic, if Felix can get it off his father. If we can find his father. Hopefully they've stayed put."
Cullen hummed, acknowledging Dorian's concerns. "I wish we had more time, then you could perfect this."
Dorian turned in Cullen's arms and wrapped his around the Commander's neck.
"I wish we had more time, too." He looked deeply into Cullen's eyes, leaving the silence between them.
Cullen quickly caught on, walking Dorian into the desk, lifting him by the thighs to sit atop it. "We have a couple of hours, at least."
Dorian smiled, bringing Cullen in for a light kiss. It quickly became something more, with hot hands finding fasteners on the other's armor and unfastening them. Their kiss turned deep and passionate and nearly frantic as the men wasted little precious time.
Dorian leaned back and pulled Cullen over him, holding him close as he whispered between kisses, "I never stopped loving you. I couldn't make myself stop after you told me to go. You had me."
Cullen kissed down Dorian's neck as he whispered back, "I thought it was just me. And I need you to know I only sent you away because I was scared. I didn't know what the Inquisition would do to you. I was only upset you'd lied to me."
"But you know why I had to." Dorian held Cullen by the cheeks to get his attention. "Would you have wanted me if I had told you I was a Tevinter necromancer."
Cullen pulled the mage’s hand back and kissed his palm, "I want you now, don't I?"
Dorian's words were thick with need as he whispered, "Do you?"
"More than anything."
And the love they made in the night, in a private tucked away space, far from the eyes and ears of Skyhold, was more than either man had felt in many years. Possibly all their lives.
__________
Cullen smiled as he rode alongside Dorian's horse, listening to him and Felix reminisce. They had a long history, from what Cullen gathered, and cared for each other like brothers. It felt good to see Dorian as his true self, and not a bundle of half truths peeking out from behind an alias.
The group was much larger this time, with closer to fifteen templars, including Barris, along with the addition of Solas and a handful of other mages. Cullen was grateful for the help, even if it meant spending time with Solas, trying desperately to find something to talk about.
When the team arrived, they tied their horses up at the camp near Master Dennet's stables and took off on foot toward Dead Ram Grove, signaling the watch tower to stay on guard.
At the entrance to the cave, Cullen took Dorian's hand and squeezed tightly while giving him a worried look. Dorian smiled gently, squeezing back. Cullen nodded and signaled the group into formation and forward. It was still dark, but with several mages summoning flames into their palms, they would be able to see any ambushes this time.
The team stepped cautiously into the final room of the cave where the Inquisitor had been torn through time. It was quiet, with the scattered corpses of Venatori from their failed attack on Cullen’s crew. Dorian winced as he saw the familiar clothing of his homeland, not happy to be fighting his countrymen.
Cullen looked to Dorian with concern, wordlessly asking if he was alright. Dorian nodded and continued on, reminding himself these men chose this path.
After glancing around the room, everyone turned to face Cullen with disappointed looks.
"There's no one here. How are we going to bring the Inquisitor back without that amulet?" One of the mages asked.
Dorian bit his lip as he thought.
Before he could come up with anything, Felix spoke up. "No, there must be another way out of here. My father didn't head for the entrance when he retreated, he went further in."
Cullen nodded, "That's right, everyone look around! There must be--"
Dorian placed his hands on the wall at the back of the cave and closed his eyes, reciting a spell quietly.
Before anyone could ask what he was planning, the wall dissolved away, revealing a laboratory and a barely conscious Alexius breathing heavily on the ground, books scattered where he sat.
"Father!" Felix rushed to his side as he pulled bandages from his bag. Alexius’s wounds were deep and unhealed, but not from Lavellan's sword, which laid across his lab table, still coated in blood.
"My son," Alexius’s voice was incredibly weak, sounding more like air than words.
Felix began applying pressure to his father's rotting wound, exposed flesh healed open.
"We have healers here, just hold on," he said even as the healers shook their heads, wounds too old to fix.
Dorian approached with caution, nerves rising at seeing his old mentor again. He stepped into view just as Alexius looked up.
"The Venatori," he wheezed, "they left me, abandoned me. Told...told the Elder One I failed them."
Felix's eyes began to well up with tears, "They were using you, father, just like you used Dorian. They wanted your magic, that was all."
Tears tugged at the edges of Alexius’s eyes as well, as he admitted, "The Elder One...Corypheus...he came to take the amulet, tried to kill me. But...but I…"
He began to cough and sputter, blood leaking from his nose and mouth. He tightly grabbed Felix's hand, holding on with all his strength as he gasped and panted for air.
The air was stagnant, musty and old. Without a draft present, Dorian and Felix could feel as Alexius’s last breath escaped his chest and hit their skin.
Felix sat back on his hunches, eyes glazed, staring down at their entwined hands.
Dorian looked away and closed his eyes tightly.
A long silence hovered in the room, Dorian's hand gripping Felix's shoulder to comfort him. He looked down at his hand, still clasped in his father's, and felt something heavy and cold kiss his palm. He pulled his father's hand away to find the amulet, pulsating and smooth, as if never used.
"Crafty bastard," Dorian said as he lookes at the amulet in pristine condition. "He repaired it, but not perfectly. The way the magic is calibrated, it should work in reverse."
Dorian looked from the Inquisitor's sword to the books scattered on the floor.
"He was going to bring Lavellan back and try again."
"Maker's sake," Felix dropped his head into his hands.
"It's already 'calibrated' to bring him back? That saves us some time, doesn't it?" Cullen looked to Solas for confirmation.
"I am unfamiliar with time magic. I believe everyone to be, except for Dorian." Solas gestured from Dorian to confirm.
He nodded, taking the amulet from Felix and looking it over for imperfections. "Indeed it does. So long as he's done it correctly."
Dorian began work on his spell with the mages silently watching on. Though he had asked them not to, they often asked questions, to which the usual reply was, "This is time altering magic, you know. Let's not forget the danger of this."
When they began to ask too many questions they wouldn't get an answer to, Cullen stepped in and shooed them away. After they scattered, Cullen placed a hand on the small of Dorian's back, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around the man from behind. He wanted nothing more than to rest his head on Dorian’s shoulder and close his eyes. And when he would open them, the Inquisitor would be there unscathed and everything would be normal.
Cullen heaved a deep sigh at the thought, Dorian turning to look at him with concern.
"Something the matter, amatus?"
"Who?" Cullen asked, not really having absorbed the question.
Dorian chuckled, "You, silly. Are you alright?"
Cullen shook his head slightly, eyes closed, "No. I mean, yes, it's nothing, just...who is Amatus?"
Dorian rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around Cullen’s neck. "It's Tevene, a term of endearment like 'honey or 'dear'." A smirk came to his lips as Cullen scolded himself for sounding jealous.
"Sorry, I'm just nervous about this whole situation. I didn't mean to…" Cullen trailed off.
Dorian pressed a nimble finger to his lips. "It's alright, I'm nervous too. This is something I've never done, never even considered having to do. But it will turn out. The Inquisitor will be fine, I promise."
Cullen stared with anxious eyes for a long moment, "That's an awfully confident promise."
Dorian's calm smile faltered ever so slightly, but Cullen caught it, placing a warm ungloved palm to the mage's cheek. "I trust you, Dorian, but it's not your fault if he doesn't come back."
Dorian cringed, "This has all been my fault. If I had just been honest from the beginning--"
"Stop." Cullen leaned forward to silence him with a kiss, forgetting the others around them. "Hunting down the Venatori has been our goal this entire time. This may have happened eventually, you couldn't have changed this."
Dorian nodded, lips still so close to Cullen's. "You're right, I know you are, but I would feel much better if I could bring him back."
Dorian grabbed the calibrated amulet and a tome off the lab table, breaking free of Cullen's embrace and moving toward the center of the room to prepare the ritual.
Solas stood from his crouched position, holding out his hands to take Dorian's completed spell.
"The most difficult bit will be leaving the fade at the same time you entered. Make certain you do not interrupt the flow of time." Solas warned as he started casting.
Dorian looked to Cullen one last time before a green and yellow tear opened before him and he stepped through.
Hours passed and still Dorian hadn't returned with the Inquisitor. Cullen paced the room along with the mages, while Solas maintained meditation in the center of the room, waiting for the beckon call.
He couldn't take the suspense any longer. Cullen gingerly walked near and around Solas to see if he could still hear him. Solas coldly spoke, quiet and even, "I am entirely aware of my surroundings outside the fade, Commander."
It made Cullen jump at first. He then asked, "Are you...in there with them? Can you help them?"
Solas stayed completely still with his eyes closed and legs crossed as he responded, "No, I cannot. I am simply suspending my mind in the fade, but I am not there as they are. They went in physically, body and spirit as one. I would have gone in myself and done this more quickly, but alas, there must be someone on the other side to pull the Inquisitor back through. Dorian has an excellent understanding of time, but the fade can disorient even the brightest minds."
None of this made Cullen feel any better, or more confident that they were safe. "But can you see them? Are they alright?"
Solas sighed, annoyed at having to dumb things down, "Dorian and the Inquisitor have made contact. I can sense their spirits near one another, but I cannot see anything. Were I there, I could use my senses. I am not, however, so I must feel for their souls. I know not where they are in time, or how they fair."
Cullen grunted in frustration. Why did he expect a clear answer?
A short while passed and Solas began to rise, grabbing his staff again. "Everyone stay back, the tear could pull you in!"
Everyone scattered to the edges of the room, watching in astonishment as Solas tore the veil open, Dorian and the Inquisitor stumbling through back into the 'real' world, haggard and panting.
Cullen approached slowly as the tear sealed behind them. When Dorian locked eyes with him, he ran into the Commander's arms.
"Cullen," he whispered in his ear, breathy and shaking, "Thank the Maker, it's you"
Cullen returned the embrace but was still confused. "Yes, it's really me. What happened? Are you alright?"
The rest of the room rushed to the Inquisitor's aid, healers starting to mend cuts and bruises and wrap them gently but with urgency.
Dorian pulled back to look Cullen in the eyes, tears nearly falling onto his cheeks. "Time moves differently. I hoped we would be out in a few days, but it's been weeks, maybe months for us. Lavellan said he'd been sent into the future and stuck there for nearly a year. I can't begin to imagine…"
Dorian shuttered and pulled Cullen close again, Cullen shushing him softly, running calloused fingers over his hair.
__________
Back at Skyhold, a crowd waited anxiously at the base of the steps from the main hall, nervous chatter rumbling through them. The Inquisitor was in his chambers, healers and templars looking him over, a scholar begging him to recount his experience.
Cullen and his fellow advisors took deep breaths before opening the doors of the main hall and descending the steps until they reached the middle landing.
"People of the Inquisition!" Cassandra shouted over the chatter, "The Inquisitor is safe and in good health!"
The crowd sighed a collective sigh of relief as they applauded.
Cullen smiled as he added, "All thanks to the brave and valiant efforts of the templars," they raised their swords from within the crowd, people cheering. "Our mages," they raised their staves as well, Solas smiling as he bowed his head.
"And lastly, this man." Cullen held out his hand, inviting Dorian from the front of the crowd to join him. "This man, who joined with you as a troop, rose quickly through our ranks with his impressive display of magical knowledge; who joined the Inquisitor in the field, and contributed to the important research done in our library."
Dorian was already stunned as he stood above all the people of Skyhold, but Cullen took both hands in his, and faced him full on. "This man, who risked his reputation, his place in the Inquisition, and ultimately his own life, to return the Inquisitor to us from beyond time. Dorian Pavus."
Felix, standing at the front, looked up to Dorian from within the crowd and shouted, "To Dorian!" The crowd joined in with thanks, crying out with joy for their Herald’s great return, and the man who saved him. Dorian looked out over the crowd as they said his name, as they recognized him for all his deeds despite his lineage.
The good Tevinter.
He smiled as he turned to Cullen once again. "A tad overdue, if you ask me."
Cullen chuckled, "You're impossible."
Cullen pulled Dorian in for a long and tight hug, the crowd around them cheering for the Inquisitor. Cheering for the
#cullrian#cullen rutherford#dorian pavus#mulan au#cullrian au#da au#dragon age au#dragon age#dragon age inquisition#da#dai#long reads#slow burn#like really slow#but it picks up#disney au#disney inspired#writing#long fic
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Almond Poppy Seed Muffins
you’re hired to help with the menu at colson’s new cafe and the lines of employer and employee quickly blur.
wc: 6k (!!!)
-
“Sit up, man.” Slim knocked Colson upside the head. “Menu person’s coming.”
Colson groaned and lifted his head off of the one table in the unopened cafe. “Tell me again why we booked this meeting for eight in the fucking morning.”
“Because it’s professional.” Slim whispered as the creak of the door echoed in the empty area. “Now sit the fuck up.”
You walked over with your shoulders back and your head held high, looking as professional as possible. Colson’s eyes were comically wide as he watched you approach the table. Your confidence was coming off in waves and Colson couldn’t help but be attracted to it.
Slim stood up. “Hi, you must be y/n.” He smiled at you and reached out to shake your hand. You smiled back and Colson immediately forgot he was hungover.
“Yeah, I am. You’re the one who talked to me on the phone?”
“That was me. I’m the manager. You can call me Slim.” Slim pulled back his hand and patted Colson on the shoulder. “This is Kel-”
“I’m Colson.” Colson shot up and shoved his hand in your direction. ”I’m the owner.”
“Thank you guys for calling me in.” You smiled at him this time and Colson almost fell back into his chair.
“Thank you for coming. Let’s get started, shall we?” Slim said, sitting back down and both you and Colson followed. “We were hoping this could be a collaborative effort, because we want the menu to be unique to us and have some personal touches.” Colson looked at Slim with furrowed eyebrows, he’s never met this version of Slim before.
“Yes, of course. I’ve only got some basic items on my list, I wanted to sit down with you before we get into the trial phase. If there’s anything specific you wanted on the menu, or anything specific you don’t want, we can get that out of the way now.” You pulled out a tablet as you spoke, entering the password and opening your notes.
“There’s only a few items that we really want on the menu, but the rest is up to you.” Slim nodded as you took note of his words on your tablet. “What do you have so far?”
“I’ve got some basic avocado toast, bagels, and breakfast paninis.” You explained, showing them some pictures you had saved. “I’ve been to the surrounding cafes and seen the staples, but I wanted this place to have some unique staples of its own. So I added mini bacon tacos and almond poppy seed muffins.”
Colson’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, I love almond poppy seed muffins! I was just going to tell you to add them to the menu.”
“No way, I love them too!” You beamed at him. “They’re so underrated. Everywhere I look for them, all I find is lemon poppy seed.”
Colson didn’t know how to respond, he just couldn’t believe he made you smile. Before the silence got awkward, Slim cleared his throat. “Bacon tacos? Are those tacos with bacon?”
“No, they’re bacon taco shells. Made them mini because full sized could get expensive in the long run.” You said, showing him a picture. “I’ve seen them online, but never in cafes and never here. Could definitely bring in some customers, everyone loves bacon.”
“Yeah, for sure. I don’t think I’ve seen those around here before. There’s also some things we need to have on the menu.” Slim said, looking over at Colson.
“Yeah, we need blueberry pancakes and cheese eggs.”
“And do you have any ideas for their names on the menu.” You asked, typing away.
“The pancakes are gonna be Casie’s Weekend Special, C-A-S-I-E. With whipped cream and berries on top.” You nodded and he continued. “And Champ’s Cheesy Eggs for the eggs. Oh, and we also got these special coffee beans coming in next month for a specific cold brew. I want it to be called Cold Brew but with the C-O-L in capital letters.”
“That’s just for it’s name on the menu, right? Because I don’t do coffee stuff.” You asked for clarification.
“Yeah, yeah for sure. I’m making that myself, no need to worry about it.” Colson said.
“Okay, good. Is that it?” You asked as you typed.
“We might add some more later, but you don’t need to worry about that right now.”
“Alright, I’ll start the trial phase this week. I’ll test out the recipes and all that. When I’ve polished everything off, we can do some taste testing.”
“How long do you think you’ll take to finish?” Slim asked.
“You should get a call in about a week or two.”
Slim smiled and nodded. “Perfect, we’re set to open in a few months.”
“I’ll have enough time to train the staff before then.”
“Great, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”
“The pleasure’s all mine.” You pulled out two business cards and put them on the table, one in front of Slim and one in front of Colson. “This is my business card, in case you need to contact me.”
Colson could have sworn your gaze lingered on him for a second longer than it did on Slim.
This was not a business card he was going to throw away. No way.
-
The buzzing of your phone pulled you away from your laptop. You were up all night researching and hearing the notification finally pulled you out of the rabbit hole.
It took a while to find your phone in all the blankets on your bed. But when you finally did, the notification that was on your lock screen was not something you were expecting.
Colson requested to follow you on Instagram.
Woah. Unexpected.
You opened your phone and accepted his request and followed him back.
- verified?
C- what can i say im a rockstar
- hahaha
- seriously tho, why?
C- u really dont know?
- nope. enlighten me
C- im a rapper
- no way! i work for a rapper now?
C- i guess you do haha
So your night that started off with researching recipes quickly turned into a night researching Machine Gun Kelly.
Song after song and interview after interview, you wondered how you spent your life not knowing of Machine Gun Kelly’s extensive career. You couldn’t say that you had never heard the name before, but this was way more than you expected.
-
Your Instagram seemed to pick up on your search history, so your explore page was only memes about your boss from the moment you googled his name.
You weren’t sure you could look him in the face the next time you saw him, something about two nines on his waist.
(creds: @ticketstomydownfall)
- how come you never told me your full name?
C- sorry it just never came up, i never meant to keep it from you
C- i hope you understand
- it’ll take me a while, but im hurt you didn't tell me
And so it began, every time you took a break from menu research you would send memes back and forth. You would send Colson cooking memes he wouldn’t get and he would send you musician memes you wouldn’t get. A healthy balance, you joked.
But your favorites had to be the Machine Gun Kelly memes.
-
A new cafe opened a few streets down from Colson’s unopened one, so he decided to check out the competition. He stood in line and read the menu. He perked up when he saw the place had poppy seed muffins in their display. It kind of worried him because he wanted them to be his cafe’s thing, but he wouldn’t mind having one right now.
“Hi! What can I get you, sir?”
“Can I get a cold brew and one of those muffins please?” Colson pointed at the basket of muffins.
“The poppy seed?” Colson nodded and the barista reached over and picked one up.
“Are those almond or lemon?”
“These are almond poppy seed muffins, they’re here for a limited time only. Don’t think we’ll have them back anytime soon.”
The barista put the muffin in a paper bag and instructed Colson to wait by the pick up area. As he waited, he pulled out his phone and sent you a picture of the muffin.
C- new place got almond! poppy seed muffins
C- for a limited time only tho, we in the clear
Ever since you started texting, you had told him not to expect any fast responses. Your sleep schedule was all over the place because you ‘work best at night’ is what you told him. The menu was coming up fast and you told Colson to expect some taste testing soon.
So when he got a response from you within seconds, he was confused. He wasn’t complaining, that’s for sure. It just wasn’t like you.
- look in the corner
He looked up and saw you in the corner looking right at him with your phone in your hands. You laughed when you made eye contact and beckoned him over. He pointed towards the barista and you nodded.
As soon as his cold brew was in his hands, he dashed over to you.
“Well, well, well.” Colson smirked, sitting down across from you. “I see you fixed your sleep schedule.”
“Kinda. Just for today.” You smiled. He didn’t know if you always smiled or if you always smiled around him. Colson liked to think it was the latter. “You checkin’ out the competition?”
“Yeah, so are you. What do you think of the muffins?” Colson asked.
“Mine are better.” You shrugged.
“Gotta try ‘em first before I agree.”
“In time.”
-
It had been two weeks since you saw Colson at the cafe. You ended up staying there for a few hours, time seemed to fly by with him. You gushed about the flourishing menu to him and he smiled and nodded. You knew his appreciation towards the topic wasn’t at your level, but he encouraged you to keep going. ‘I like hearing you talk’ were his exact words.
You were a blushing mess by the end of the night. Some insinuations were made and you could definitely tell that he was as into you as you were into him. And you were willing to tease the possibility.
- im not considered an assistant, am i?
C- you could be if you wanted
- i think assisting with the cafe could be considered an assisting position
C- id be inclined to agree
-
Colson needed to get away. He needed out right the fuck now.
He couldn’t bear staring at his bedroom ceiling any longer. The demons in his head were louder than ever and he needed an escape.
Closing the door gently, he made sure not to make any loud noises so as to not wake anyone in the house. He got into his car and drove off. He had no clue where he was going, he just knew he was going.
He found himself parked in front of his cafe after a few minutes, not knowing how he got there or how he decided this was the place to escape to. He did have the keys on him. He could just head in, put together a couple of those tables that came in the other day and do something with his hands. Anything to get his mind to shut up for a little while.
The click of the keys turning in the lock sent a shiver up his spine. He made sure to lock the door behind him just in case. The thought of someone already being there never even crossed his mind.
Until he heard something from the back. The kitchen.
The kitchen was fully finished a week ago, decked with all kinds of high tech equipment. Worth a shit ton of money. Did Colson really just stumble into a robbery? Of his own fucking cafe?
He stomped over to the kitchen, fully prepared to beat someone up.
So when he saw you dancing around in a flour covered tank top and shorts with music blasting in your headphones, he had to take a step back.
You screeched when you saw him at the door. “Holy fuck!” Colson laughed as you bent over and put a hand to your chest, taking your headphones out. “My heart just fucking dropped into my ass!”
“I thought you were a robber. I was ready to throw hands.” Colson said nonchalantly as he strode over to you.
“I thought you were going to murder me! What are you doing here? I could have sworn I locked the door.”
“You did.” Colson nodded.
“Shit, right.” You chuckled. “Owner, sorry I forgot.” You pointed at him.
“What are you doing here?”
“I asked first.” You shot back at him.
“Right, right.” He nodded and looked down. “Needed to get away. Found myself here.”
He hated the way your eyes softened at his words, he didn’t need pity or help or someone to fucking ask him if he ‘wants to talk it out’. But you didn’t say any of those things, and he really should have known. You were different.
“I told you. I work best at night. Slim gave me the key last week so I can utilize this amazing kitchen.” You motioned to the high tech equipment around you. “Muffins are almost done, actually.”
“Poppy seed?”
“Mhm, about six minutes left. But I got some pancakes right here, if you wanna try some?” You asked, picking up a plate stacked high with blueberry pancakes.
Colson nodded and took the plate out of your hands. You handed him a fork and he cut himself a bite.
He brought it to his lips and paused, catching your hitched breath. “Don’t play with me! Just eat it!” You laughed, moving the fork into his mouth as he laughed at his stupid joke. His face was thoughtful as he chewed for a few moments. “Well?”
“It’s good.” He hummed. “Really good. But not better than Casie’s.”
“Doubt I can make it better than Casie’s when it’s her name on the menu.” You smiled. “She your girl?”
The question slipped out before you could catch it. It was swirling around in your jealous head every time you saw the name in your notes. You weren’t exactly flirting with Colson these past few weeks, but if he had a girlfriend you would feel kind of guilty because you definitely caught feelings.
Okay, you were definitely flirting. The whole assistant meme? For sure. And you were at least attracted to him. And with the way he has been looking at you, you knew he felt the same way.
“My daughter. It’s just me and her.” Colson smiled, knowing why you were asking and definitely not minding clearing that up for you. “She makes blueberry pancakes on the weekends for me. Best pancakes on the planet. Scratch that, in the fucking universe.”
“Aw shit, I can’t compete with that.” You chuckled. “Gotta try the best pancakes in the fucking universe some time.”
“For sure, I’ll bring her over when you finish up to try your stuff. Maybe you can take some pointers from her.”
“No offence to your daughter’s pancakes, but I think I’m good.” You chuckled. “This is my job and I’m damn good at it.”
“Alright, alright. No need to get feisty on me.” Colson laughed, putting his hands up in surrender. “My daughter’s pancakes will always be number one for me. You know how it is. She doesn’t know I’m putting her name on the menu, though.”
“Bet she’s gonna be so happy, I know I would be. I’ve always wanted my name on a menu.”
Colson nodded and looked down at the counter that you were leaning against. Your phone, which was placed on the same counter, lit up with a notification that revealed your lock screen.
The notification wasn’t what caught Colson’s attention, the music that was playing did. “Are you- are you playing my music?”
“What?” You asked, your hand quickly darting to cover your phone. Colson laughed and pulled your hand away.
“No no no, I saw that.” He chuckled, grabbing the phone. “Loco? Not what I expected you to like, to be honest.”
You shrugged and pushed yourself away from the counter. “It’s got a good beat to whisk to.” You moved away from him and towards the oven and slipped on some mitts.
“The muffins are done? I didn’t hear a timer.”
“It’s all up here, pretty boy.” You smirked at him, tapping your finger against your temple. “If I leave them in any longer they’ll burn.” You explained, dropping the piping hot muffin tray onto the counter.
Colson’s hand slowly reached over to the tray, but you slapped it away before he could touch one. “Ay, they need to cool down! Still didn’t even finish them, man.” You huffed as you took off the oven mitts. You looked at him and saw him staring at you. “What?”
He just smiled his little cute ass smile and shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Don’t ‘nothing’ me. What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Your hand came up to wipe at your cheeks.
Colson held your wrist and pulled it away from your face. “No, you don’t have anything on your face. You just…”
“Just what?” You don’t know when you started whispering, but it felt like you had to. The moment, so fragile and intimate, you didn’t want to scare it away.
“You look really fucking cute right now.” Colson breathed out, his eyes not once leaving yours.
“You don’t just say that to a girl, Colson.”
“Who said I was just saying it?”
The moment lost its preciousness when Colson put his hand on the hot muffin tin. “Ah fuck!” He brought his hand up to his chest, cradling it.
“You’re so stupid, you know that?” You chuckled as you led him to the sink. “Come here, let me run some cold water on it.”
“Fuck me, I just ruined the moment, didn’t I?” He asked as he let you tend to his hand.
“A little, but you didn’t completely lose me.” You mused, teasing him. “I gotta put the glaze on the muffins, then you can have one.”
“There’s glaze!” He asked excitedly. “I fucking love the ones with the glaze on top.”
“I know.” You hummed, taking the bowl with the sugary glaze and spreading a little on each muffin. After you finished all of them, you went back to the first one you covered and popped it out of the tin. You held it up and brought it to Colson’s mouth. “Try it.”
He bit into and moaned almost sinfully at the flavor. That fucker knew what he was doing.
“These are so fucking good.” Colson groaned.
“Damn right they are. You know how hard I worked on that recipe?” You exclaimed, proud the muffins came out as good as Colson made them seem to be.
“Really fuckin’ hard, I take it.” Colson replied. “Come here, you gotta taste it.”
Before you could take a bite out of the muffin, Colson put his finger under your chin and led your lips to his.
You pulled away a few seconds later, breaking the kiss. “You’re right, that tastes really fucking good.”
“You keep talking like that and I don’t think we’re gonna make it outta this place.” Colson smirked.
“The staff room’s got a couch.”
-
(Elvgren Brunette Pin-Up Girl “Let's Eat Out”)
C- you last night
- excuse me?
C- what?
C- ur the sexy muffin girl
- how dare you?
- i would never burn my muffins
C- dude
C- im tryna flirt with you here
- well try harder
-
Colson didn’t expect to walk into the cafe the next week with Slim and his daughter to see you wearing his shirt from that night. Casie was just excited to eat the food, so she didn’t notice.
But Slim noticed. Colson coming home without a shirt wasn’t crazy. But you wearing said missing shirt? Yeah, he saw this coming. He smirked at Colson who tried to brush it off but his blushing cheeks betrayed him. Holy fuck, you had him blushing. What the fuck was he going to do with you?
You told them to sit tight while you brought out the plates. When you disappeared into the back, Colson mumbled something about going and helping you out.
“Nice shirt.” He smirked.
“Thanks, I got it from this guy.” You teased.
“This guy?” Colson raised his eyebrows at you as he picked up two plates.
“Yeah, tall lanky blonde dude. I don’t know if you know him, but he’s a rapper.” You smiled, expertly carrying four plates in your arms. “He’s verified on Instagram.”
Casie and Slim both watched with amused smirks on their faces as you and Colson walked out of the kitchen giggling.
With you none the wiser, Colson mouthed ‘Shut up!’ at them. Slim snickered and Casie raised her hands up in surrender. You placed two small plates on each placemat, not aware of the conversation going on around you.
“First, we’ve got the mini bacon tacos.” You said, pointing at each plate. “The bacon shells are filled with a spinach and scrambled egg mixture with a few slices of fresh avocado.”
“Oh my god, dad! The tacos are made of bacon!” Casie exclaimed when she looked down at the plate.
“Stop drooling and eat your food before I do.” Slim mumbled through a mouthful of bacon taco.
“Ay!” Casie shot Slim a look and used her hand as a shield against her taco. “Don’t you touch my food.”
“Then eat it!”
“I will, get off my back!”
“Hey!” Colson shouted, getting their attention. “No fighting in front of our guest!”
Slim and Casie looked up at you and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.” They apologized in unison and you fought hard to not let out a snort.
“It’s alright.” You giggled. “Do you like the tacos?”
Casie stuffed half the taco into her mouth and nodded. “Iss real goo’.”
Colson chuckled and wiped some avocado off his daughter’s face. “I think that’s the equivalent of three michelin stars.”
As everyone cleaned off their plates of all eggs and bacon, you remembered something you wanted to mention.
“Now, next are the blueberry pancakes. But before you guys dig in, Casie, I need to ask you something.” Casie perked up at your words. “Your dad told me that your pancakes are the best in the universe. And because this is his cafe, I would like it if he liked my pancakes too. So if you have any advice for me, I’m all ears.”
Casie looked between you and the pancakes for a moment.
“I’m gonna guess that you don’t use the boxed stuff, right?” You nodded. “Alright, I’ve got one trick that I use. But you gotta promise not to tell anyone.”
You stuck out your pinky and nodded. “Pinky promise.”
“Pinky promise.” Casie looped her pinky with yours and smiled. “Y’all gotta shut your ears.” She said to Colson and Slim.
“But-”
“No buts!” She stopped Slim. “Shut your ears!” Casie watched her dad and uncle as they slowly covered their ears with their hands, confused and trying but failing to hold in their laughter.
“Alright, my trick is hazelnut milk. I use it instead of normal milk. Makes it kind of taste like Nutella, and Dad loves Nutella. And I add a teeny tiny bit of cardamom powder. The tiniest pinch. Made the recipe all by myself, so I better get credit.”
You smiled and made eye contact with her. “Trust me, you’re gonna get your credit.”
-
C- my jaw still hasn't recovered
- shouldn’t that be my line?
C- remind me to never show anyone our texts ever in life
- noted
C- are you free tomorrow?
- yeah why?
C- meet me at the cafe at noon
C- theres something i wanna show u and casie
-
You smiled when you saw Colson and Casie approaching the cafe. You had gone to the store so as to not arrive too early, but you still beat them by a few minutes.
“Hey.” Colson smiled. “You brought stuff?”
“Yeah, just a few secret ingredients.” You nodded, holding the canvas bag behind your back. “If I show you, I have to kill you.”
“Can I see?” Casie asked.
“Of course.” You scoffed and winked at her.
“Hey! How come she can see but I can’t?” Colson asked incredulously.
You shrugged and giggled. “Why are we here, Colson?” You asked, changing the subject.
“Something came in today.”
“The coffee beans?” You asked, hoping you’d get a taste of his COLd brew. Yes, you told him it was stupid. No, he wouldn’t budge.
“Nope, the chalkboard.” He waggled his eyebrows at you.
Your eyes lit up. “For the menu?”
“Yup.”
“Dad, can I help? Please, I wanna do the border.” Casie pleaded.
“Of course, special girl.” Colson nodded at her. “You gotta help bring it out, though.”
“Let’s get the chalkboard!” Casie jumped up and tried to open the door.
Colson told her to hold on, the door wasn’t unlocked. He pulled out his keys and turned the lock, opening the door wide enough for Casie to run inside.
“It’s in the back.” Colson called after her.
She ran past you both to the staff room.
“She’s cute.” You chuckled once she was out of earshot.
Colson walked into the cafe with you and closed the door behind him. “Yeah, she got it from me.”
Before you had time to reply, a resounding crash came from the back.
“Casie!” You both dashed to the back to see if she got hurt.
“I’m fine!” She said once you both walked into the room. Casie was fine, but the long cardboard box she was pulling was no longer upwards but flat on the floor. “I think I broke it, though.” She winced.
Colson sighed and dragged his hand down his face. “Case…“
You smiled at Casie to calm her down. “It’s alright, as long as you’re not hurt.” You approached her and pulled her into a side hug and observed the fallen box. “Let’s see the damage out in the front, come on.”
The box was pulled out by all of you to the front where you opened it and pulled out the chalkboard. The chalkboard that was once one piece was now distinctly two pieces.
Casie sighed dejectedly. “I broke it bad.”
“No, no. This is definitely not bad.” You reassured her and looked over at Colson to back you up.
“Yeah, princess. This is not bad.” He said, not really knowing why it was great but only playing along with you as to not make his baby girl feel bad. “Why is this not bad?”
You laughed and kneeled down to fully pull out the two broken pieces out of the box. “We can make it look intentional. See, the crack is going diagonally down the middle. You can do the border around each piece. It would look really cool.”
“That would actually look really dope.” Colson said as he finally understood what you were getting at. “None of the other places have anything like this.”
“See? Told you.” You nodded. “What would you do without me, huh?”
“I have no clue.” Colson mumbled as he knelt down to sit next to you. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear it, but you sure did. “Alright, y’all can do the border. Leave the rest to me.”
“You sure?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at Colson. “It’s gonna take you a while.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. You have everything written down somewhere?”
You nodded and pulled out your phone from your pocket. You opened up your notes app and handed it to him. “This is my latest draft for the final menu. Do with it what you wish.”
And so you got to work. Every time you tried to peek at what Colson was writing, he’d push you away and say it was a surprise. So you stuck to what he assigned you. The border took you and Casie no time, even after adding some doodles here and there and signing the bottom right corner.
“Dad?” Casie perked up.
“Yeah?” Colson asked, still focused on his penmanship.
“You good to finish it up?”
“Yeah, why?”
“y/n and I need to go to the kitchen.”
“You do?”
“We do?”
“Yes.” Casie nodded at you. “We do.”
“Oh!” You smiled, remembering the bag you had brought with you. “We do!”
“Mhm.” Casie smiled sweetly at her dad and hopped up and headed towards the kitchen. “Come on, y/n! No time to waste.”
You giggled at her antics and shrugged at Colson. “No time to waste, I guess.” You grabbed your bag full of ingredients and followed the little sassy child to the kitchen.
You placed the bag on the counter and smiled at her. “So, how many do you wanna make?”
“Not many.” She shrugged as she helped you take out the ingredients. “Just a few to try out the recipe.”
“Good idea.” You nodded. “I changed my original recipe a little bit, added your suggestions and a few more things. That cardamom powder is a great addition, by the way.”
“Thanks!” Casie beamed. “So you’re a chef, huh?”
“Not exactly.” You mused as you pulled out the bowls and measuring equipment. “If we had to get technical, I guess my job is a menu curator. I help people make menus for their cafes or restaurants.”
“But dad said you make really good food.” Casie pointed out as she measured some dry ingredients into a large bowl. “Did you learn it by yourself or did you go to school for it?”
“A little bit of both.” You paused to help her not spill the flour and continued. “I’ve been to a few culinary schools, but only the ones that you attend for a few months. But I’ve always loved cooking.”
“So this must be your dream job, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess it is. You wanna crack the eggs?” You asked and handed her the eggs when she nodded. “What’s your dream job?”
“I’m not really sure, I’m only eleven.” She shrugged and threw out the egg shells. “But I really like the music industry. So probably something in that. Maybe a producer or something. I’ve helped out Uncle Slim on some of my dad’s stuff and it was fun.”
“No way! That’s really cool. I know nothing about the music industry, if I’m being honest.” You confessed.
“Did you know about Dad’s music?” She asked. You paused for a moment, knowing this was coming. Casie wasn’t stupid, she knew something was going on between you and her dad. She wanted to make sure you were right for him. And she was definitely not going to beat around the bush to find out.
“Not when I first met him. But he followed me on Instagram and I asked why he was verified and he told me.” You said.
“Oh.” Casie said, pausing to think of what to say next. “Okay.”
You looked at her and furrowed your eyebrows. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” She nodded as she poured out the hazelnut milk into a measuring cup. “I like you, y/n. And I know my dad likes you, too. If he didn’t think you were a good person, then I wouldn’t even be here.”
Pushing the bowl closer to her so the milk wouldn’t go on the counter, you stayed silent so she could continue. “And I know you were wearing his shirt the other day, which means my dad really likes you. But you gotta know that being with my dad comes with stuff not everyone likes. I know you like me, which is obvious because I’m amazing.”
“Yes, of course.” You nodded semi-seriously, giggling with her.
“But there’s also his music and the whole public thing, which gets weird sometimes.” Casie’s eyebrows rose as she spoke, indicating that she’s seen enough to know what she was talking about. “They say things and they lie and they might drag your name through the mud. But some people forget that the things they say only last for a news cycle.”
“You are wise beyond your years, Ms. Casie Baker.” You pointed at her. “I think meeting you has been the best part of working for your dad.”
-
A week later, Colson called you back to meet at the cafe. After making the pancakes with Casie, Colson refused to show you the menu. He insisted it still needed more work and that neither of you could see it until it was properly set up behind the front counter.
Both you and Casie moaned and groaned, telling him a little peak wouldn’t hurt. But he held his ground.
Walking up to the cafe, you saw that Colson and Casie beat you this time around. Colson was sitting down as Casie jumped around him, begging him to remove the white sheet hiding the chalkboard on the wall.
“Hey guys.” You said as you opened the door.
“y/n!” Casie called, running up to you. “Thank god you’re finally here! He made me wait this whole time.”
You looked up at Colson who was shaking his head. “We’ve been here for eight minutes.” He chuckled.
“That’s a whole four hundred and eighty seconds!”
“Ay, that was some nice quick math!” Colson cheered and held his hand up for a high five.
Casie slapped his hand and walked over to the menu. “Alright, she’s here. Can we please see the menu now?” She pleaded.
Colson sighed and nodded. He positioned you and Casie to stand in front of the board and placed your hands on your eyes.
“On three, open your eyes.” Colson instructed as he held onto the white fabric. “One, two…”
You and Casie waited for him to continue only to hear him snickering. “Dad!”
“Alright, alright.” You heard the fabric fall to the floor. “Three!”
You gasped when you finally laid eyes on the long awaited finished menu. Colson somehow made all you and Casie’s little doodles crisper and more vivid. The border around both the pieces had some additional patterns here and there, obviously courtesy of Colson. Your eyes scanned the names of the menu items quickly, most of them already known to you from your notes.
“Casie’s Weekend Special?” Casie asked after a moment of silence, looking up at her dad. “No way! Are those the pancakes?”
“Yeah, you like it?” Colson smiled.
She giggled and jumped up to hug Colson. “I love it!”
“I told you you’d get your credit.” You smirked at her.
She climbed off her dad and gasped. “You knew?”
You nodded and she attacked you with a hug too. You laughed as you almost toppled over from the sudden embrace.
You continued reading the menu when Casie climbed off of you. You chuckled at the ‘Bomb A$$ Bacon Tacos’ and at the ‘COLd Brew’. You smiled when you read ‘y/n’s ALMOND poppy seed muffins’.
Wait what.
“Colson…”
“You said you’ve always wanted your name on a menu. Besides, it’s your recipe.” Colson stumbled back as you attacked him in a hug this time.
You sighed against the skin of his neck and whispered a soft ‘thank you’. You pulled back and stood there for a bit, just looking at his piercing blue eyes. How can someone’s eyes be so blue?
“Oh my god! Just kiss her already!” Casie exclaimed.
“Woah! Where did that come from, little lady?” Colson turned to look at Casie without letting you go.
“You guys are making major goo goo eyes at each other. Just kiss! I’ll cover my eyes, don’t worry.” She said, placing her hand over her eyes.
“I mean, she’s kinda-”
You cut him off by placing your lips against his. Casie giggled as she peeked between her fingers. Colson furrowed his eyebrows and groaned his disapproval into the kiss, waving his free arm at his daughter.
You giggled against Colson’s lips and pulled his waving arm back. You pulled away and reached out one arm around Casie and dragged her into the embrace. “Your dad is a real romantic, Casie.”
“Thanks, I taught him well.”
“Yeah, you really did.”
#machine gun kelly#mgk#colson baker#machine gun kelly fanfic#machine gun kelly x reader#machine gun kelly fluff#machine gun kelly imagine#mgk fanfic#mgk fluff#mgk x reader#mgk imagine#colson baker fanfic#colson baker x reader#colson baker fluff#colson baker imagine#richard colson baker
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Spoilers: Futility 4x22
Trigger warnings: references to sexual assault and murder, angry sex, biting, marking
Evocations: XIII
Going through the motions and the paperwork after finding Gardner dead in Erin Goss' living room seemed to take a long, long time. When Olivia finally let herself into the apartment, it was so late that Sky High didn't even budge from the sofa when the door clicked open and then softly shut.
But Alex was still up. Noises drifting out of the kitchen drew Liv in that direction, where she found the blonde amid a disastrous mess of baking supplies. Open cannisters, boxes and bags were everywhere; flour, drips of mixtures, dropped chocolate chips, and empty egg shells ran from one end of the island to the other.
Alexandra baked when she was angry.
That was fine by Olivia, as they both had plenty to be angry about. The Gardner case had been a thorn in their side right from the beginning, and now it had ended less than optimally - to say the least. A rapist was dead but dead wasn't exactly justice, and none of them really believed that Erin had been defending herself.
Luck had been on Alex and Olivia's sides in the two years they had been together, in that they hadn't gone to the mat over cases very often. It was often commented on by those who knew they were together, how unusual this was.
"He's dead," Liv said flatly.
"So I heard," Alexandra replied, hands on her hips as she blew a section of blonde hair off her forehead.
Five rapes, three indictments dismissed, now a murder, and the perpetrator was dead. They were going to the mat this time, and they both knew it. Had known it since Alex had blown up over Gardner's motion to call Bethany to the stand. Very little of it was about pride; it was about the futility of it, of all the energy expended trying to protect the women, only to have things fall apart. Both women felt impotent, everything they had tried having only resulted in further complications.
"She was sleeping with him," Liv added.
Alex snorted, wiping her hands on her apron. "Well that was obvious."
The oven timer went off, and Alex slipped on oven mitts, yanking a tray of cookies out. Sighing, Olivia slumped into one of the bar chairs at the island.
"We never should have had Carrie waive her privacy," Alex tossed out.
"So the jury could have deadlocked over the ID? It still would have given him the chance to run and kill that woman."
"That woman would still be alive if we had done our jobs!" Alex slammed a spatula against the counter, every inch of her tall body wound tight with anger and inexpressible sadness.
"We did do our jobs!"
It wasn't that Olivia didn't understand; just two nights before she had been singing the same tune to Elliot, about the fine line between doing the right thing, and doing too many right things. There was just no soft place to land when they were both feeling like this.
"I can't do this anymore," Alexandra said tersely. Liv stilled in her seat, her heartrate leaping. "It's bad enough that I never know when you're going to come home with bruises from some predator attacking you. If I can't get justice for the victims, I'm failing on both fronts."
"Alex, I can take care of myself."
"Not always."
"Most of the time," Liv insisted. Alexandra made an irritated noise in her throat and flipped pages in her cookbook angrily. "If you want to drop SVU, nobody's stopping you," Olivia told her then, taking a page from Elliot's book.
Alex scoffed openly at that.
Liv rose from her chair and rounded the corner of the island counter. "Hey, it's true! Just because you're the best ADA that the unit has ever had, doesn't mean you can't move on. But I know exactly what I signed up for - and the bottom line is, a lot of the time this job is hell. That's not going to change."
The truth of the statement hung in the air between them.
"You don't get it, do you?!" Alex snapped, stepping up to the brunette, their sparking, angry gazes meeting. "I see what this job does to you - to us - and I can't lose you. I can't."
Alex's hand grabbed Liv's forearm, fingertips biting into the skin with the force of fear and guilt and anger. Worse, though, was that Olivia did understand; she knew exactly what the pressures of their jobs was doing to their relationship. It kept her awake some nights, wondering how long they could both sustain things.
Liv put her hand over Alex's and attempted to pry the fingers away, which resulted only in Alex's other hand, locking onto her bicep and pushing her hard against the counter.
"Alex," Liv warned, but it was obvious from the blonde's stormy gaze that it wasn't going to do any good.
Alex tightened her grip so that Olivia couldn't raise her arms, and leaned in, dragging frustrated kisses along the lines of the brunette's throat. The kisses included plenty of teeth, nipping and scraping the skin, leaving red marks in their wake.
Liv struggled under the weight of Alex's body pushing her, both women breathing angrily and fast. "For fuck sake, Alex!"
The blonde sank her hands into Liv's short dark hair and pulled, dragging a hiss from her throat before she clamped a hard kiss onto her mouth. Their fear, and impotence and exhaustion with the case poured into their angry touching, ramping up with every motion.
Olivia yanked at the apron that Alex was still wearing, her hands fighting to untie the strings as Alex tried to keep her pinned. Changing tactics, Liv used her weight against her, pushing forward and away from the island altogether. They stumbled across the space between the counter and the refrigerator, crashing into the appliance and sending magnets clacking to the floor.
Grunting with surprise, Alex steadied herself and fisted the bottom of Olivia's shirt into her hands, tugging it swiftly up over Liv's head and off, shoving her backward. The brunette crashed back against the island where Alex immediately pinned her with another kiss.
Olivia bit into the blonde's bottom lip, and Alex drew back, eyes wide. "Christ!" Blood welled where teeth had cut, and when the kiss began again, Liv sucked it clean.
The apron was finally untied and, Liv's hands slid down Alexandra's back, pulling her sweater up, wrestling to get it off. When it was gone, more biting followed, over the blonde's neck and shoulders until she was slapping Olivia's hands down. Pushing her in her hold, Alex got her turned around so that she was facing the counter.
One hand slid up Liv's back, curling to a stop at her neck, holding her in place while the other hand snaked around Liv's waist to open her pants. They had never really done this - fucked out of anger, out of fear - and it felt dangerous and electric. Alex's hand manoeuvred into Olivia's pants as she struggled, and when she was met with clamped thighs, she brought her knee up to wedge between her legs from behind.
"Fuck you!" Olivia panted.
Alexandra dropped her mouth to the warm skin of Liv's back and bit her there. "That's what I'm doing," she told her evenly. Spreading Olivia open with her long fingers, Alex stroked mercilessly over the swollen clit she found there.
"Fff-agghh!" Liv cried angrily, her forehead against the cool marble of the countertop.
The blonde released her grip long enough to jerk pants and underwear down together, then sank her fingers into Olivia's hair while the other hand stroked at the dripping wet heat of her entrance from behind. Both women growled unintelligibly when Alexandra filled Liv with her fingers.
She was not gentle, nor did Olivia want her to be, as Alex pulled her head back by the hair and fucked into her hard enough to stutter her feet forward on the floor. Liv stretched her arms across the island, fingers slipping on spilled flour and other sticky ingredients.
"You're going to come for me," Alex panted, then groaned at the responding clench of Liv's cunt around her fingers.
"Fuck . . . fuck!" It seemed to be the only working word left in Olivia's vocabulary.
Come she certainly did, screaming with anger, with relief, while trying to thrust into Alex's fingers yet somehow away from them all at once. Before Liv had barely caught her breath, she spun on the tall blonde and grabbed her with both hands, planted on either side of her ribcage.
Trailing remnants of flour and sugar in their wake, Liv shoved her hands beneath the bra Alexandra had on, squeezing her breasts gracelessly, pinching her nipples hard enough to make her hiss in pain. Then Alex's mouth was on Liv's again, her arms encircled her waist and she hoisted her onto the counter.
Olivia sank another bite into the blonde's throat, her hands working to get the bra off. When she succeeded, she raked her nails down Alex's back, getting a roar of lustful anger in response. For the first moment since they'd started, Alex stepped away from her, their eyes still locked like dogs growling through a fence.
She popped the button on her pants, unzipped and shoved her pants off her hips to the floor, kicking out of them. The scratches down her back were hot and stinging as she stepped back up to Olivia and brushed her lips close to her ear.
"Fuck me," she breathed, then bit down on Liv's earlobe.
"Make me," Liv rasped out, shivering as the bite was followed by Alexandra's hot tongue.
"My pleasure." The blonde grabbed one of Liv's wrists and pulled, dragging it low and forcing the fingers to uncurl.
As soon as her fingers made contact with the damp, wiry curls between the blonde's thighs, Olivia's resistance evaporated. Her fingers straightened so Alex could guide them where she wanted them, and where Alex wanted them was deep inside her. Then Liv took over, withdrawing and then sinking her fingers back in to the hilt, over and over again.
The last of their anger and fear burned down as the sound of Liv fucking Alex filled the kitchen, not stopping until the blonde was quaking and dripping and gasping for mercy.
.
.
"Another cookie?" Alex asked quietly.
"Mm, yes please," Liv nodded against Alex's chest.
Alexandra reached across to the plate of cookies that they'd rested on the toilet cover and took one, passing it off to the slippery, wet brunette that was atop her in the hot bath.
They had been there a long while, reheating the water each time it cooled, tending to their bites and scratches, washing off flour and sugar remnants. And, of course, eating cookies.
"Lex?" Olivia mumbled, serene but tired.
"Yes?"
"I promise you won't lose me, as long as I can help it."
Alexandra took a deep breath and combed her fingers through Liv's short, wet tresses. "I know, Babe. I know."
#law and order svu#svu#olivia benson#alex cabot#alexandra cabot#olivia x alex#cabenson#hearteyes4mariska#my writing#evocations#my fanfic#first angry sex#first fight over a case#tw: rape reference#tw: murder reference#tw: angry sex#tw: biting#tw: marking
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Empires on the Horizon XIV
Jason is a CEO: Part XIV
masterlist for other parts, more jercy, bad headcanons, and an abundance of crackships
SURPRISE!!! i finally got my laptop back and thankfully they didn’t have to wipe anything so i still had all my work! Between you and me i was more worried about all my fanfics than my uni work...... But I’ve learned my lesson. Do everything on google docs now!! Anyway this is a Percy POV and i hope you enjoy because i’ve missed this little universe more than you could possibly know and we’re finally (only fourteen chapters later) getting to the jercy part of this fic?! LOL it’s been wild.
i know i’m releasing a ton of fanfics at the moment so i hope you guys don’t feel overwhelmed. You know i adore your comments and thoughts but please don’t feel pressured to read all the fics i’m posting. I’ve just had a lot of time in the last weeks so it’s been easier to create. Please take care of yourself, i love you very much and i hope you have a magical holiday season!
Percy Jackson stretched his legs out in front of him and draped a blanket over them. There were few things he indulged in, but a good plane seat was one of them. He was spoilt for it but having the space to lay his unreasonably tall body down for eight hours seemed like a worthy investment. The announcements that continuously filtered through the crackly speakers were background noise as the bustle of people getting to their seats flowed throughout the cabins. He stared out his little window at the neon-jacketed guides and airport officials directing people to wherever they needed to be. He loved watching people just do things. There was something calming about knowing others weren’t interested in him in any way. That people got on with their lives despite the turmoil nobody knew about.
A flight attendant stopped next to him with a polite smile, “Champagne sir?”
“No thank you, a water please. Too early for alcohol.” He grimaced.
Mirth danced in her eyes as she glanced up at the rest of the passengers, some dangling flutes between their fingers. “Absolutely sir, anything else?”
He shook his head, before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. His pre-flight ritual, which consisted of him snuggling as comfortably as possible it his seat and trying to fall asleep, was already behind. The presence of a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed CEO taking up the scattered pieces of his mind. It was crazy to think they had met almost a year ago, crazier still to think that about how much they had changed in that time. Percy at least felt like a completely different person to the one who had stepped off a plane from Hawaii all those months ago and attended his alma mater’s dinner. Although the university had surprised them with plaques honouring their contributions, it was seeing Jason Grace, learning about him that felt like the real reward. Hell, he was only half joking when he said he’d marry the guy the next Tuesday.
“Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts. We will be taking off shortly. In the meantime please turn your attention to the screens in front of you for a video detailing the safety measures you will need to know while aboard this flight.”
He blinked back into the world and turned half his attention to the screen and the other half to locating the blonde he couldn’t seem to keep away from. He knew the safety briefings by heart, but he always felt bad for not paying attention. Someone worked hard to make those. He didn’t spot Jason in the two minutes the video played and then it was too late because the plane gave a low rumble and suddenly, they were lurching into motion. His heart climbed to his throat and he gripped his fingers underneath the blanket.
“Okay Percy,” He mouthed to himself, “You can do this. It’s at most fifteen minutes of instability and then you’ll be up in the air and you won’t even feel it.”
“Just fifteen minutes.” He kept repeating, taking deep shaky breaths. “Fifteen minutes.”
The plane jaggered down the runway, slow enough that he could still read the road signs indicating altitudes and compass directions and all sorts of fun information he didn’t care about. He felt the huge machine turn into the long stretch of tar that led them to the sky and his stomach clenched painfully. This was always the worst part. Take off. It felt like his entire body flew off with the plane while he stuck to the ground, superglue cementing him to the floor with no escape. He didn’t feel free. He felt torn.
The plane gave a horrible lurch and then it was screaming down the runway, grass and yellow lines blurring past them. They were going so fast he’s sure they’d break the sound barrier. He squeezed his eyes shut. Knuckles white as he twisted his hands together. The plan flew down the road and into the sky. His whole body felt suspended in space. He wanted to come down. He didn’t want to be here. Even with his eyes closed he could feel how high they were. He hated it.
Slowly, the plane started to level out until he felt his body realign: feet under him, hands beside him, head above him. He opened his eyes, spots dancing in his vision as they got used to the light once more. The seatbelt sign dinged above him, and a series of clicks followed. People got up to use the bathroom and grab things from the overhead compartments. He wasn’t going to get up until he was out of this plane. So he shoved his headphones over his ears and pressed play.
I will always love you how I do
Let go of a prayer for you
Just a sweet word
He gazed out the window, clouds close enough to whisper to, and his lips pulled up in a soft smile. The sky was beautiful. It just sucked that they had to get into a death trap to get to it. With his ocean eyes pinned to the balls of cotton hanging in the blue expanse his mind drifted. Reyna. He blinked. It was almost shameful how little he had thought of her since their breakup considering their year together. She had taught him tai quan do and baked him blueberry tarts. They had escaped to a little bubble in the forest and watched the leaves turn brown as they tumbled in bed. He knew she tapped her right foot when she was annoyed but her left fingers danced when she was excited. He knew she liked her eggs fried hard because she didn’t have time for sloppy yolk, but she liked them scrambled soft because it meant a richer croissant. But despite this she did not light his soul on fire. And he did not light hers either. They were merely striking matches without wood to burn. He heaved a sigh as he watched the threads of his relationship flutter before his eyes and fell asleep to them disappearing in gold strands leaking into the clouds. He succumbed to the bright sun and the soft warmth of memories and he didn’t wake until a loud announcement gave the signal that they were landing.
It was over so fast he didn’t have time to panic and he was grateful. Finally he was collecting his bags and walking out. A driver with his surname scribbled on a plaque stood front and center and with a quick flash of his ID and a hello they were piling into the car. He didn’t get a chance to see the blonde beauty, but the island was small and time was a plenty. They would find each other again.
“To the hotel sir?”
“Yes Luca, and then please stick around for half an hour. It’s just a quick freshen before I go to work. We have a lab meeting.”
The man nodded and then focused on the busy Italian streets they were navigating. He took in the colours and sounds as they whizzed by. It felt like a different universe. People were loud and excited and full of life and the little markets seemed to pull energy from the sun and direct it into joy. He wanted to tell Luca, to pull over, screw work, and take in the beauty of this little section of the world. But his phone buzzed in his pocket and he knew with a disappointed sinking in his chest that adventure would have to wait.
“Hello Percy,” Rachel Elizabeth Dare bubbled, ‘I assume you’ve arrived?”
“Yes Rach,” He sighed but amusement caught between his lips, “Have you got news for me?”
“No,” She sounded suspicious, “Why would I have news for you?”
“Because you only track my exact times when you want something but you’re too scared to ask me so you wait till I’m halfway across the country before asking.” He wanted to laugh as she made an indignant sound.
“Okay fine,’ She grumbled, “I wanted to know if I could close up the scuba for the weekend. I met a girl and i wanted to go out on Friday night with her.”
He couldn’t hold in his laugh any longer, “Of course you can Rachel. But I’m curious to know…” He trailed off.
“Ugh you are impossible.” He could imagine her eye roll so vividly. “It’s Clarisse. The principal from your old school.”
“Well, well, well,” He grinned, “I better be getting premium seats to the wedding.”
“Why does everything always end in weddings for you?” She groaned.
“Scuse me for wanting a happily ever after.” He scrunched his face, “Oh and guess who’s here?”
“Is this a good guess or a bad one?”
“Good.” He smiled, “Very good.”
She gasped, speaker crackling at his ear, “Tell me!”
“Jason Grace.”
“What?” She squealed, “Are you guys going to have hot rebound sex and then realise you like each other more than just casual fuck-buddies and end up getting married and adopting like six children?”
He burst with amusement, “Slow down there Rach. I know I throw around the marriage idea, but kids seem like a big commitment.”
“You right,” She said decidedly, “Kids are a lot of effort. Just get married then. But no eloping!” He pictured the crease in her freckled brows. “I want to be a bridesmaid.”
“Can’t promise anything,” He giggled.
“Perseus Jackson!” She scolded.
“Oof the full name.”
“I will tell your mother and she will kick your ass.”
“Okay, okay,” He laughed, “No eloping. I have to go. But remember to take the keys for the scuba with you. We do not need the fire department breaking the door again.”
She grumbled about hating him and then blew him a kiss and ended the call. With a smile still playing on his lips he thanked Luca and rushed into the hotel. Thankfully the check in was painless and fast and he was stumbling into his room in no time. He barely had time to appreciate the gorgeous floor-to-ceiling windows and the ocean view it laid out before him. He promised himself he would take the time when he got back.
Quickly he hopped into the shower cursing when he realised he’d forgotten to take his socks off. With a horrified shudder he peeled them off and chucked them into the laundry basket, thankful it gets emptied every day. The water beat against his back, fogging up the glass and calming the racing in his veins. He gave himself the luxury of one extra minute to just take a deep breath and screw his head back onto his shoulders and then he jumped out and shoved on a pair of black slacks and a white button down. He didn’t bother to do the top few buttons, figuring he’d have time in the car. Instead he fastened a watch to his wrists, rolled up the sleeves till they sat at his forearms– any attempt to bear the Italian heat– and then he slid his feet into a pair of sleek ankle boots and mussed his damp curls. With half a moments glance at the mirror to make sure his face didn’t have patches of sun-cream and his collar was straight he grabbed his briefcase and walked out.
Glancing at his watch distractedly he rounded the corner, only to bump right into a hard chest.
“Oh,” He frowned, stepping back into a door. “Jason.”
“Hey,” The blonde smiled, “What a coincidence?” He laughed.
“You’re staying here?” It was really starting to feel like the universe was trying to tell him something.
‘Yep,” He gave a shy smile, blue gaze bright. “Guess you’re going to see a lot more of me then you expected huh?”
“I think you may be at more of a disadvantage than me.”
Jason looked at him, eyes dragging from his face down his body and eventually dropping to his shoes. Percy gave an involuntary shiver as the blonde tracked the same slow pace back up. “I think this could be very advantageous.”
“If you don’t stop staring at me like that I’m going to be very late for my meeting.”
He laughed, the previous sultriness giving away to a sparkle and flashing white teeth, “See you around Jackson.” He started walking away.
“Wait!” Percy called, “Date? Tonight? We can explore the city together?”
Jason smiled as bright as diamonds, “Sounds fun. Meet you in the bar at?”
He realised their time depended on when his meeting finished and suddenly, he wanted to cancel the whole thing and start now. ‘Seven thirty?”
“See you there. And have a good meeting.”
The blonde walked away, and Percy felt this time like he was floating away while his body remained superglued to the floor. He wanted to live in this feeling. Because this did not feel like being torn apart. This felt like coming home.
The elevator dinged down the passage and he crashed back to reality. With a string of curse words he raced for it and jumped in just as the doors began to close.
The meeting and subsequent lab tour felt endless and he concentrated on little less than half of what was being said, his mind more interested on the things waiting for him at the hotel, the person. But eventually it was over and him and Luca were cruising towards the Casa de Vita.
“Anything else you need sir?” His driver looked at him from the rear-view mirror as they turned into the hotel road.
“Recommend any good places for a first date?”
“Already met a lady sir?” Luca’s dark eyebrows almost touched his hairline in surprise.
“A man actually.”
The Italian chuckled, nodding his head as if in on some invisible joke, “The Tesora. It is just down the path and near the ocean.”
“Thank you Luca, have a goodnight.”
“And you sir.” Luca winked before peeling out of the entrance and fading into the setting sun.
Percy strolled to his room with a smile on his face, lost in a world full of possibilities. It was unsurprising then that he didn’t see the extra bag against the wall, or the shoes neatly placed by the door that weren’t his.
He took off his watch and undid the few buttons on his shirt, head lost to the glimmer of the ocean. He let his shirt fall open as he slipped off his shoes and walked towards the windows. The view really was spectacular. No matter how much he travelled it always blew his mind the places that existed, that he had yet to learn of. It was irresistible. It was perfect. It didn’t fail to cross his mind that the ocean was the exact same colour as a certain pair of gorgeous blue eyes. He blinked the image away, turning around, and his gaze landed on that exact aquamarine gaze.
“Jason?” He gasped, clutching his chest in surprise. “What are you doing in my room?”
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#empires on the horizon#part 14#jercy#jason is a ceo#jason grace#percy jackson#baby fanfic#baby fanfic series#pjssg fanfic#pjssg series#pjjg fanfic#pjjg series#jason#grace#percy#jackson
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Hot for Teacher, Part 9
GENRE | College Student x College Professor Smut AU
PAIRING | Reader x Hongseok x Hyunggu (Kino) x Wooseok
WORDS | 13.5k (oops)
SUMMARY | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.
WARNINGS | Swearing. Angggssstttt. Explicit smut. Penetrative sex. Oral sex (female receiving).
PARTS | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 5.5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • More Coming Soon
NOTE | This one was so hard to write! Thank you as always for your patience 💕 I’ll be waiting 24 hours to answer any asks you peaches send in so as not to spoil anything for other readers, but please let me know what you think! Also let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.
TAGS | @day6grams, @heyheydee7, @hhhongseok, @jinjinmyworld, @kkxn0, @precious-seungwooya, @seraplantery, @the-deviant-world, @yeosang-ponytail
You wake up in the morning in a bed that’s clearly not your own and a smile comes to your lips when you remember everything that happened last night. You never imagined that you’d have such a crazy night with Yanan and Changgu, but you don’t regret it for one second. You give yourself a moment to stretch before climbing out of Changgu’s bed, noticing the mellow soreness in your muscles.
You slip on your clothes from the party and head out to the common area of the apartment, where Yanan and Changgu are both hard at work in the kitchen.
“Good morning,” you sing-song, still feeling satisfied from last night.
Both boys turn around and smile at you. Yanan coos, “Morning, sweetheart.”
The pet name sends a tingle through you.
Changgu whisks something in a bowl as he greets you. “I was just about to make some scrambled eggs. Want some?”
“Yes, please.” You smile warmly and plop yourself down on one of the barstools at the kitchen island.
Yanan prepares a second cup of coffee and places it in front of you. “You’re in awfully high spirits this morning.”
“Yeah, thank you for that,” you raise an eyebrow as you blow on the top of your steaming coffee. Yanan gives you a flirty grin before drinking his own coffee and then peeling off to grab some fresh fruit from the refrigerator.
Changgu pours the eggs into a frying pan and starts cooking up your breakfast. “Glad to hear you had fun last night. You certainly seemed to be enjoying yourself.”
“It was… great.” There are a million stronger adjectives you could use, such as amazing, incredible, magical, mind-blowing… but you don’t want to boost their egos too much. “Do you guys do this often?”
Changgu shrugs. “It’s sort of an occasional thing. Our tastes in women don’t always overlap, unfortunately. And even if we find someone we’re both interested in, she might not be interested in both of us.”
You hum and nod. It definitely doesn’t seem like something that could just magically fall into place super frequently. But based off of last night, you’re willing to bet that both boys are impressive lovers even on their own. They were each so attentive and responsive, and the amount of aftercare you received when you finally wrapped up the night made the whole night absolutely heavenly.
“So _____,” Yanan leans over the island, pushing a bowl of fruit your way. “I meant to ask last night, but you’re old enough to come out with us to Andy’s next time, right?”
You frown slightly. “Not quite. I just turned twenty, so I technically have another year. Although I do have a fake ID that works just fine as long as there’s no one there to call me out on it.”
He scoffs, clearly remembering the run-in with Professor Yang that ruined the night last time you went out with them. “Yeah, Hongseok really knows how to ruin a good time, doesn’t he?”
“Why do you insist on calling him by his first name?” It catches you off guard every time, especially because the professor has been so explicit about his preferences when it comes to the way students address him. You’re willing to bet that, based on the way he and Yanan interacted and the fact that Yanan uses his first name, they must know each other outside of school. “Do you have something against him?”
Yanan takes a long sip of his coffee before responding. “Perhaps I do. But I’ll tell you this, he sure as hell started it.”
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Changgu pipes up as he transfers the eggs to a plate. “That’s a pretty big can of worms you’re trying to open.”
“Well you can’t just say something like that and expect me not to be curious! Now I need to know.”
Yanan pulls up a stool. “I went to a different school for a year and a half before transferring here. Washington University.”
You immediately recognize the university as being the most prestigious school in the city. It’s stupid expensive, and it’s really hard to get in. “You went to Washington?”
He nods. “And so did Hongseok. I met him there while he was getting his Masters degree. We both worked in the Mathematics Department office.” Yanan bites down onto a strawberry. “We got along okay, but I wouldn’t say we were ever friends. Our work schedules occasionally overlapped and we were cordial with each other. But one day he heard me bragging to a friend about how I’d slept with my Economics professor to boost my grade. Business school wasn’t for me, so I did what I could to make it a little easier.”
Your eyes widen and you’re struck with something that feels kind of like… panic? “You slept with your professor?”
“I did,” he responds proudly. “And then Hongseok turned me in to the Dean. She got fired and I lost all of my scholarship money, so I transferred. What are the odds that he’d end up over here too?” He chuckles darkly.
Yanan interrupts your train of thought. “I think he was just pissed because he worked so hard and he didn’t think it was fair that I was trying to take the easy way out. To that, I say that nothing in life is fair and he needs to get over himself.”
You try to seem as natural as possible despite the slight discomfort seeping into your bones. “Oh man, I can’t believe you had to transfer because of all that. That basically changed your whole future, right?”
“It did, but I’m not terribly torn up about it.” Yanan dismisses the thought with a wave of his hand. “I had fun with my professor, but I’ve enjoyed my time at this school more than I ever did at Washington. It might be less prestigious, and I might be getting a music degree instead of a business degree, but I didn’t ever have much interest in business anyway.”
You nod slowly, at least glad to hear that Yanan’s doing okay. “You still seem to have a bit of a grudge towards Professor Yang, though.”
“That I do. Not just because he turned me in, though. I don’t particularly like the way he looks down on me all the time. He’s got a real ego problem.”
“You’ve got that right,” you murmur, thinking about the way Professor Yang first confronted you at the beginning of the year, how he assumed you must have been obsessively crushing on him to the point of intentionally seducing him at the wedding. He does seem to be quite a bit self-absorbed.
Changgu speaks up. “What about you, _____? It seemed like you and Professor Yang were pretty familiar with each other.”
And just like that, your ease gives way to mild anxiety. “Oh, I’m just in his class.” You try to brush it off.
Changgu nods, but you’re not really sure that he believes you. He serves you your eggs. “You know, I followed the two of you outside when he insisted on sending you home. Things between you seemed… heated.”
“Mm,” you hum, letting yourself take a bite of your eggs as you scramble to come up with an excuse. “It was just all of the adrenaline from the surprise performance I had to give, you know. And it’s easy to just return his fire with fire, especially because, you know, he’s messed up my grades a few times and I’ve had to have multiple talks with him about that, so like, there’s just tension, you know, but it’s not really a big deal or anything...” Like an idiot you ramble and over-share, just like you always do when you’re put on the spot.
“I see.” Changgu raises an eyebrow.
Yanan’s brow furrows as he tries to comprehend the beans you just spilled. “You’re telling me that Hongseok, the mathematical genius, messed up your grades?”
“Yeah, it’s so stupid, right? I don’t know what his deal is.” You force out an awkward laugh and follow it with a lie to try to soften the damage you’ve done. “It happened with my friend, too... I think he must just get distracted while he’s grading or something. Who knows?”
Yanan seems unwilling to let it go as he presses, “He boosts your grades?”
You nod, completely incapable of thinking through actions or words before letting them happen. “Ah, yeah. But it’s kind of a mix, I guess.”
And then the shittiest grin comes to Yanan’s lips. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Don’t tell me he’s got a thing for you.”
It’s such an easy conclusion to come to, and you led him right to it. Now you’re totally frozen and unsure of how to respond. How are you supposed to answer that?
Changgu comes to your rescue, placing a hand on Yanan’s shoulder as he speaks. “Even if he does, it’s not her fault, and she doesn’t seem particularly comfortable with all of this, so why don’t we let it go? It’s all speculation, anyway.”
“Of course.” Yanan nods curtly, and an uncomfortable silence falls between the three of you.
The irony of this whole situation is not lost on you. If anything happens between you and Professor Yang, he’d be nothing less than a hypocrite now that you know he got Yanan in trouble for the same behavior. And if Yanan were to ever hear about it, you’re not confident that any interest he has in you would overshadow the opportunity for revenge. You’re just collateral damage in his feud with Professor Yang.
Getting close to these boys might be more dangerous than you originally thought.
Monday night rolls around, and you know you should be getting ready to head out for R&B ensemble… but instead you just anxiously pace through your living room, completely unsure if you can work up the courage to see Kino tonight.
You haven’t said a word to each other since your birthday party. He hasn’t even texted to indicate he wanted to walk with you to practice tonight, and you can’t say you blame him. You were kind of a huge dick to him after you kissed. You weren’t really in a good frame of mind to actually talk it through with him at the party, but the longer you wait to talk to him, the less of an excuse you have. You’re completely sober now, and you were yesterday, too. He’s one of your best friends - there’s no reason why you can’t talk to him about this.
Really you know it’s because, no matter how close you are with him, you’re absolutely terrified about how badly the conversation could go.
You care about Kino so much. You honest-to-God love the kid. But do you care about him romantically?
You pull your phone out and write out a quick text to Wooseok: Not feeling well, so I’m going to rest tonight. Can you tell teach I’m going to miss practice?
You just can’t work up the nerve to go in tonight.
Wooseok responds: No prob. U need anything?
You: No I’m ok, thank you though.
Wooseok: K. Rest up, short stuff.
Dropping your phone onto the couch, you resort to just jumping up and down because you’re so full of nervous energy. You don’t even want to start thinking about everything that’s transpired between you and Wooseok on top of your situation with Kino. He also hasn’t said much to you since the party, and you can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that you ditched your own party to bang Yanan and Changgu.
That shouldn’t have bothered him since you agreed to only be friends, and it’s definitely not a decision you regret making. That night with the two seniors was incredible, even if the morning after took a turn for the worse.
Inevitably, your mind returns to Kino. You let out a low groan and burst into the bedroom where Nailah has been studying.
“Nailahhhhh,” you groan. “I don’t know what to do.”
Nailah holds up a finger and continues reading, and you just stand there jittering in silence while you wait for her to finish. After a solid thirty seconds that feels like five minutes, she snaps her textbook shut and looks up at you. “What’s wrong, boo?”
“I have to talk to Kino but I don’t want to.”
“About what? The fact that you guys made out?”
You bite your lip and nod. “I haven’t talked to him since the party and I feel awful about it and I know that we need to just have a conversation but I’m terrified about what’ll happen and I honestly don’t even know how I feel?” Words come out of you stupidly fast as you try to express everything that you’re feeling.
She checks her phone, presumably to see what time it is. “Don’t you usually have a class tonight?”
“R&B Ensemble. I’m skipping. Not ready to see Kino yet.”
Nailah gives you a once-over, gets up from her bed, and starts digging through her dresser drawers. “You’ve got too much energy. Let’s go to the gym and work this out.”
“The gym?” Your mind briefly flashes back to the last time you went to the gym with her and you crossed paths with Professor Yang. That’s… potentially less of a problem right now. Hell, seeing Professor Yang working out would probably be a welcome distraction from everything with Kino. So what if he’s there? Besides, Nailah’s right - it would be nice to do something with all of this energy you’ve got right now. “Okay, yeah. Good idea.”
Nailah sits you down at the bicep curl machine and she squats in front of you while you try to do a few reps. “So talk to me about what happened. I know what I saw, but I want to hear it from you.”
You let out a strained exhale as you pull the handles up towards your chest. “I went out for some air, and Kino came out, and we were dancing to the music and I told him I love him.”
“What?” Her eyes widen.
“I do, though!” You pull up again. “Like the same way I love you, you know? And I think he took it to be something romantic, and then he kissed me. And I kissed him back.”
“Did you like it?”
Pull. “I did. He’s a good kisser.”
“But you’re conflicted.”
“Yeah.” Pull. “Because I don’t know if I like him that way. And I think he might like me that way. And what if I decide that I don’t like him that way, and then it ruins our friendship?”
“Is there a chance you might like him that way?”
You drop the handles. Is there? You think about all of the times you’ve hung out in practice rooms, all of the notes you send each other during class. And then you think about the dance showcase, the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours, the press of his lips as he kissed your forehead that night. It’s undeniable that your heart beats a little faster as you think about him. “Shit. Maybe?”
“Okay.” Nailah nods. “Maybe isn’t a great answer.”
“I know,” you grumble. “That doesn’t give me any kind of clarity.”
“So just imagine that you talk to him about the kiss, and he tells you he likes you and he might even be interested in dating. How does that make you feel?” Nailah asks, and then she gestures to the machine to encourage you to keep going.
You pull up again. “I feel overwhelmed.”
“Now imagine that instead, he says that he was confused and he didn’t really mean it. He wants to stay friends. How does that make you feel?”
“...less overwhelmed.”
“That says a lot, doesn’t it?”
“But what if I’m only overwhelmed because it’s different, not because I dislike it?” Pull harder. “What if I’m less overwhelmed by staying friends just because that’s what I’m used to?”
“Well that’s something you’re going to have to examine. I don’t have the answer to that.” Nailah stands, crossing her arms over her chest.
You huff loudly, letting go of the bar again. “Why is this so difficult?”
“Are you telling me that you’re surprised that you don’t know what you want? Sweetie, indecision is your middle name,” she teases. “You made out with Kino and then slept with two other guys all in the same night. And don’t even get me started on whatever the hell is going on between you and that Wooseok kid.”
You feel your cheeks grow warm from embarrassment. “What do you mean? Why are you bringing up Wooseok?”
“I’m not dumb, _____. You’ve obviously got something going on with him. So ‘fess up.”
“Can I switch machines first?”
Nailah stands and gestures for you to come along. You sit side by side at two leg press machines, and you try not to feel intimidated by the amount of weight she sets on her machine. Once you’re both settled in, she looks over at you expectantly.
“So…” You try to figure out where to start, and then you decide you just need to dish the whole story. Besides, he’s already told Yuto about all of it, so you should get to have a confidante, too. “I offered to tutor him in music theory because he was struggling, and it was totally fine. Then one night he invited me over to his place when I was feeling particularly… feisty… and we got drunk and made out.”
“Ah, the Queen of Bad Decisions strikes again.” Nailah chuckles. “Continue.”
Her comment makes you roll your eyes, but it feels good that she’s so lighthearted about it. “So then we talked about it later and decided that we both would be okay with, like, occasionally hooking up in a totally casual way.”
She nods slowly. “You know, if I remember correctly, I believe I actually suggested you try hooking up with him, didn’t I?”
“Sure did,” you acknowledge with a flat tone, remembering the lunchtime conversation you had that feels like forever ago.
“And how long has this been going on?”
“Maybe like… a month and a half?”
“Okay, okay.” Nailah just keeps nodding. “Obviously I approve, but it’s also important that you feel comfortable with your choices and you’ve got a lot going on right now.”
It feels good to get all of this off of your chest. So good, in fact, that you contemplate filling her in on everything regarding Yanan and Professor Yang as well. But at this point nothing is happening between you and him, so there’s really no reason to talk about it. “You’re right. There’s just… a lot to think about.”
“Maybe Thanksgiving break will be good for you. You can head home, spend some time with your family, and avoid all of these boys for a long weekend. That might give you the time you need to clear your head and figure out what you want.” She pushes the machine with her legs, thigh muscles impressively bulging.
“Yeah. That’ll be nice.” You really are looking forward to heading home in a few days. It’ll be so nice to see Minseo again and get a break from all of the drama you’ve managed to create for yourself. “Can we be done here, now? You know I can’t match your stamina.”
Nailah laughs and gives one last push. “Sure, sweetie. Let’s head home.”
Even though working out with Nailah and talking it over with her helps you feel a little more at ease, it still doesn’t prepare you for the phone call you receive when you’re back at the apartment.
Your phone lights up as it vibrates, the name City Boy pulling up on the screen.
“Nailah, he’s calling me.” You panic.
“Well answer it.” Nailah encourages you. “Now’s as good a time as any to talk it out.”
You almost let it go to voicemail, but at the last second you swipe to answer. Awkwardly, you say, “Heyyy! Kino, hey. What’s up?”
“Hey, _____.” He sounds incredibly mellow. “Are you feeling alright? Wooseok said you’re sick.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just… just had a headache, that’s all.” You rub your forehead as you try to figure out what to tell him, and you duck into the bedroom to have a private conversation. “Thanks for checking in on me, though.”
“Of course.” Pause. “Um, so you’re probably home right now, right?”
“Mhm. Just resting,” you lie.
“Flash your light for me. I’m in my room, too.”
You do as he asks, and then you sit on the floor by your floor-to-ceiling window and look for his signal. Once you spot his room, you say, “Found you.”
Kino waves gently up at you, and you wave back. Then he clears his throat and runs his hand through his hair. “So I guess the reason I actually called is because I kind of had the feeling you might be avoiding me, and I know it’s not even a big deal because it’s only been, like, two days that we haven’t talked, and it’s totally understandable that you might want some space, but I just felt so bad that you didn’t come to rehearsal tonight and I don’t want you to avoid things you love because of me.”
You wait until he gets it all off of his chest, sitting quietly while you try to figure out how to respond.
“I’m really sorry, _____. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that when we were both kind of out of it. And now I’m just terrified that I messed up so badly that I’m going to lose you completely, and I can’t stand the thought of it.”
“Kino…”
“You don’t have feelings for me, do you?”
You can hear the reservation in his voice. This is terrifying territory for both of you. You take a deep breath and respond as honestly as you can. “I don’t know. I care about you a lot, but I’m not sure yet if any of it is romantic.” He doesn’t respond right away, so you ask, “What about you? Do you have feelings for me?”
Kino sighs quietly. “Actually, I don’t know, either. I might. But if that’s not what you want, I can absolutely squash that so we can keep being friends. That’s the most important thing to me.”
You sit quietly for a moment. “I think I need time. I’ve just never really thought about you that way, but then after you kissed me… I don’t know. I’m really sorry that I’m so confused by all of this. I really wish I could give you a straight answer.”
“It’s okay.” Kino’s voice is warm. “You don’t have to push yourself in one direction or the other. We can just sit on it for a little bit, and maybe talk about it after break once you’ve had some time to think?”
“That sounds like a good idea,” you respond softly, grateful that he’s not pushing you for an answer one way or the other.
“But I guess one thing I’d like to know now is, are we still friends?”
“Yes! Of course we are,” you respond without hesitation. “No matter what we decide, we’ll stay friends at the very least.”
“Okay good.” He smiles up at you from his window. “You’re going home for break, right?”
“Mhm, I’m taking the train out on Wednesday night,” you say. “What about you? Are you visiting your family?”
“Yeah. I don’t really want to, though.”
Based on past conversations with Kino, and the emotional performance he choreographed for the showcase, you’ve pieced together how he doesn’t have a great relationship with his parents. But you’ve never gotten the full story. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Kino sighs. “It’s just hard to be around my parents. My mom is emotionally abusive and my dad doesn’t do anything to stop it. If I were an only child, there’s no way in hell I’d go back there for Thanksgiving. But I miss my sisters and I need to make sure they’re doing alright.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that. I think your sisters are really lucky to have a brother like you.”
“Thanks. I feel guilty enough that I even went to college in the first place, and I know I don’t visit home as often as I should. It was easier for me to protect my siblings when I still lived there, but I was also at my wit’s end. I can’t tell you how much better I’ve felt since starting college, as long as you don’t count the guilt of abandoning my siblings.”
“You have to look out for yourself, too, though. If you had stayed home and taken all the blows, what kind of life would you be making for yourself? If your sisters are anything like you, then I know they’re kind-hearted and strong, and they’ll make it out of the house too when it’s their turn.”
Kino sniffs, and you wonder if he’s crying. He’s just far enough away that it’s hard to tell. “You’re right.”
“You should invite your sisters to hang out with us sometime. We could all go do karaoke together or something.”
“I’m sure they’d love that! That would be really fun.” Kino sounds a little lighter now. “Thanks, _____. I’ve been so stressed about my family situation since I know I’m going home this week, and talking to you really helps me feel better.”
“Of course! What are friends for?”
“I need to get going, but there was actually one more thing I wanted to ask you about.”
“Go for it.”
“Can you be honest with me about Wooseok? You two just got so close so fast, and it’s not like that’s a problem or anything, but… do you like him? Are you two a thing? Because I’ve been suspicious for a while and I think knowing if there’s something going on between you two will help me figure out what I’m feeling.”
Your heart drops into your stomach. Why are you so afraid to be honest with him about it? At this point you’ve denied it quite a few times around him, and it sounds like he doesn’t fully believe you. So you really have no choice but to tell him the truth.
He continues. “Do you remember the night you got drunk with him and then crashed at my place? You told me about what you two did, and I just… I want to know if it happened again.”
You swallow hard, and then spit it out. “We’re just friends, but we’ve slept together a few times.”
“Ah.” Kino sounds disappointed. “And you don’t have any feelings for him?”
“I don’t.” You adamantly respond, but even as you say the words you’re not positive they’re the truth. So you say, “I mean, I don’t think I do.”
“Got it. Well thank you for telling me. I have to get going though, so I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
You’re surprised by how abruptly he excuses himself from the conversation, but you don’t really feel like you’re in a place to ask him to stay. “Okay. Talk to you later.”
He hangs up without saying goodbye, and you can tell that must have hurt him. You had no choice but to be honest, because it’s time you start facing your messes - even if it creates new ones in the process. But as you flop back onto your bed, you realize that Kino’s response speaks volumes about how he actually feels about you.
Anxious, you check the time on your phone again. Shinhye should be here by now, but she’s nowhere to be seen. It’s just you at the bus stop. You decide to call her just to make sure she’s actually coming.
She answers on the third ring. “Hey, _____…”
“Shinhye, are you coming? We’re going to be so late to Professor Yang’s exhibit.” You bounce on the balls of your feet as if that will help keep you warm.
“I don’t think I can make it, actually, I think I’m coming down with something. I just really don’t feel well.”
“Oh no! I’m sorry,” you pout. “That sucks. Well get lots of rest then, okay?”
“I will.” Shinhye sighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I just, like, took a nap and I thought that I set an alarm, but apparently I didn’t.”
“It’s totally okay. I’ll see if someone else can go with me. You just get better.”
“I’ll do my best,” she chuckles lightly. “I’ll see you later.”
“See you.”
You hang up and frown. You were really hoping she’d come with you today. Professor Yang had announced in class this morning that he’s got an exhibit tonight, and anyone who attended would get extra credit for the class. You’re genuinely interested in seeing more of the instruments he’s made, so you’re excited to go. You just don’t know if you want to go alone.
You could call Kino, since he’s usually your go-to guy whenever you need a companion, but you still feel weird about the way the conversation ended last night. It would probably be awkward for the two of you to make the trip together.
And there’s Wooseok… Maybe you should give him a ring. Things have also been a little off with him since the party, but it feels easier to ignore that weirdness than the tension between you and Kino. You go ahead and give him a call.
“_____! Heyyyy,” Wooseok drawls. “I miss you.”
“You miss me?” You laugh quietly, immediately recognizing the boozed-up drawl of his voice. “Or are you just drunk?”
He gasps. “How did you know?”
“Wooseok, it’s a Tuesday night. What are you doing getting hammered?”
“My morning class tomorrow got canceled because of TURKEY DAY WOOOOOOOO- OH SHIT-”
You hear a crash of glass, and your eyes widen. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, totallyyyy- totally fine. It’s fine. I just dropped my cup, but it’s fine. I was talking to you so I got distracted.”
“Is Minho there?”
“No, he went home already. Can you come over? I wanna see you.”
“I can’t right now, I have somewhere to be. But if you put the alcohol away and just drink water for the rest of the night, I think I can come over later.”
“Yes, ma’am. Gotta drink that water. I can do that.”
“Good,” you laugh. “Be careful, okay? And don’t try to pick up the broken glass with your hands. Just sweep it off to the side and we’ll clean it up later.”
“Why do you sound like my mom?”
“Because that’s what you need right now,” you laugh. “I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Okay. You’re great. Bye.”
You hang up. That was a bust. After a few minutes you still can’t think of anyone else you’d want to invite. But then the bus arrives and you decide that you’d rather just be on your way than try to find another person to come with.
It’s a long ride, and you’re later than you wanted to be. By the time you arrive, you pass a few other students from your class on their way out. Actually, the whole place looks pretty empty. Did you miss it?
The door is unlocked, so you let yourself in, the little bells on the handle jingling to signal your arrival. In a matter of seconds, Professor Yang’s head pops out from around a corner.
“Hey, we’re actually clo… oh, hi.” When he sees you, his eyes widen a little, made all the more obvious by the round frames that sit atop his nose. You've never seen him in glasses before, and it's a good look for him. But he could pull off literally anything, so you’re not surprised.
Still, you frown, feeling like you really wasted your time hauling ass the whole way up to the north side just to arrive as soon as it's ending. You should have just gotten on the earlier bus instead of waiting for Shinhye. “Shit, I knew I was running late, but I didn’t think I was going to miss the whole thing.”
Professor Yang steps out into the exhibit room, pulling back the sleeves of his deep blue sweater. “It’s okay, I’m not going to kick you out.”
“It sounded like you were about to,” you joke, trying to make light of the situation.
“Yeah, but you’re…” Professor Yang looks for a brief moment like he’s having difficulty deciding how to qualify you. “...my student.”
“I am,” you respond awkwardly. “Um, I know you were going to give us extra credit for being here, but you don’t have to do that since it's clearly over.”
He glances at the watch on his wrist. “If you let me show you around and tell you about some of the instruments for, like, fifteen minutes, I can give you credit.”
“That sounds good to me." You smile, but unfortunately your stupid ass can't just leave it there. You tack on, "Teach me, Professor.” And you laugh awkwardly, immediately regretting everything.
He chuckles, possibly out of politeness, and leads you to the first guitar on display. “You’re already familiar with this one. She’s the one I keep in my office.”
“I remember,” you admire the gorgeous instrument as you slip your coat off, already getting warm now that you're indoors. “She’s the reason why I was so excited to see what else you’ve built.”
“She’s one of my best, so don’t be too disappointed in the others,” he laughs.
As he walks through the exhibit with you, he speaks in detail about each of his creations. He explains to you how he decides what type of wood to work with, and his process for cutting and shaping the instruments. His collection is mostly guitars - some twelve-strings and classical guitars included - as well as ukuleles and mandolins. Although he suggested he’d only take up fifteen minutes of your time, he speaks with you about his instruments for well over an hour, and you soak up all of the information he’s willing to share with you.
During your tour, you notice more than a few empty instrument stands. “Why are some missing?”
“I sold them,” he explains. “Part of the purpose of this exhibit was to sell some of the instruments I’ve built, and the other part was to get commissions. I was successful in both parts.”
“That’s amazing! Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” He beams. “I’m eager to start working on the new projects.”
“Where do you do your building? Do you have all the tools at home?”
He shakes his head. “Definitely not. I rent a workshop space. Or if I’m able, I’ll try to do some work in the shop we use for class.” With another glance at his watch, he takes a deep breath. “Anyway, I’m sorry for talking your ear off. It’s getting late so I should really start getting packed up.”
“Oh, it’s like over over?”
“Yeah, tonight was the last of two nights. So I have to clean up, close up, and get the keys back to the shop owner first thing tomorrow morning.”
Without thinking, you offer, “I can help."
“Nonsense. I won’t make you do that.”
“You have a lot of instruments, it’ll be a lot faster if you just let me help. I don’t mind it. Honestly.”
He surveys you, angling his body directly at you for the first time all night - not that you're hyper-aware of his body language or anything. “Alright. Let’s go get the cases.”
You bring the custom-made soft cases from the back out into the exhibit space. He has them organized well, so it’s easy to find which instruments belong in which cases. In no time, you’ve got them all cased up and ready to go.
Carrying a few instruments at a time, you walk with him through the back door to the small parking lot - only three spaces available behind the building. He walks up to the dinkiest little Nissan and manually unlocks the front door, pulling a lever on the floor to pop open the trunk.
“Wow,” you can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t expect you to drive such an old-looking car.”
“Yeah, I’ve had this thing for forever. I have other more important things to put my money towards.” He lifts one of the guitars he holds, making it clear that his luthier hobby preoccupies most of his funds.
Together, you make a few trips to grab all of the instruments and load up his car, carefully placing each instrument into the trunk and back seat. Once he’s packed, you check your phone for the next bus time. The next bus isn’t for half an hour, and you frown. The damn thing is always running late anyway, so you know it’ll take much longer than thirty minutes.
“How are you getting home?” He asks, as if reading your mind.
“The bus. It’s not too far from here. I should probably head out, actually. Don’t want to miss it.” Even though you know the bus won’t show up for a while, you intentionally excuse yourself with a lie. It’s best that you just head on out.
Professor Yang checks his trusty watch yet again. “I’ll give you a ride.”
Your eyes widen. That’s the complete opposite of what should happen right now. “No, no, it’s okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you. I take the bus all the time and it’s really not a big deal. Plus it drops off right across from my dorm so it’s actually really convenient for me.”
He shakes his head, unwilling to accept it. “It’s late, it’s cold out, and this isn’t a great neighborhood. Even if it were warmer out, I still couldn’t let you stand around out here by yourself.”
You’re hesitant to accept, although a car ride does sound pretty nice. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
He nods confidently. “You’ve shown that you can be mature about our relationship, so I think this is something we can both comfortably handle.”
It’s a weird compliment, but you’ll take it. You really have been trying hard to just let things be normal between the two of you, and it seems to be going okay. And then you have an idea - as in an attempt to prove just how normal everything is, you ask him, “Do you need extra hands to help unload at your place? You’ll have to make a million trips by yourself. Since we’re... okay with each other and everything, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
He takes a moment to think. “I suppose it would be helpful.”
“Cool. We’ll just unload and then I can probably catch a bus from there. Maybe a taxi if you’re close enough to downtown that it won’t cost me a fortune.”
“I can still drive you the rest of the way,” he insists.
“Yeah, but wouldn’t it be weird if other students at the dorm saw me getting out of your car? They might get the wrong idea.”
“I’ll drop you off a block away, then.”
“Fine,” you concede. Somehow it feels like you’ve won. Profesor Yang didn’t seem to think it was possible that the two of you could look past the one night you spent together and just get along normally, yet here you are making totally regular plans to just be in each others’ presence with absolutely no tension or weirdness whatsoever. That’s a success in your book.
You hop in on the passenger’s side. The inside of the car looks about as nice as the outside, and you suppress your giggle. It shouldn’t be so funny to you that an all-business guy like Professor Yang could still drive some piece of junk car. It’s kind of endearing that he’s so… normal.
And then he gets in, turns on the car, and does the fucking dad thing - the thing where he puts the car in reverse, places a hand on the back of your seat, and completely fucking twists around to look out the back instead of just using the mirrors.
“Oh my God,” you can’t control your laughter.
Professor Yang throws a weird look your way as he backs out of the parking space. “What are you laughing at?”
“You really are an old man. You know, they give you mirrors for a reason. You should be careful twisting your back like that, you’re going to pull something in your old age, what with that frail, old-man body you’ve got.” You snicker, mimicking an elderly person with lower back pain.
“What are you talking about?” His eyes widen and he brakes, his hand still on your seat as he faces you. “First of all, I’m not even thirty yet, so cut it out. And I’m not going to address what you just said about my body because we both know that’s not even close to the truth.”
You ignore the fact that he very clearly, possibly intentionally, just reminded you that you quite intimately know what his body is like. You ignore the fact that the way he’s posed is actually really hot because of how his jacket hangs open and his sweater pulls tightly across his muscled chest. You ignore the fact that it would be so easy for him to lean over the console and kiss you.
You swallow hard. There are a million red flags, but you ignore them all. Remember that he’s completely over you.
“Okay but you did just address it by saying that,” you say, trying to sound unaffected.
“Come on, I can’t just let you talk about me that way. It’s a lot of work to stay this fit and here you are calling me frail and old like you’re not-” He bites his tongue.
“Like I’m not what?” Into it? Attracted? Drooling about it every time you picture him shirtless?
“I was going to say, ‘like you’re not walking around in a twelve-year-old’s body,’ but then I decided that would just be mean.”
Your face heats up. You really shouldn’t be talking about bodies with him right now. Not when he just said that the two of you are mature enough to just be normal with each other. It’s so tempting to remind him how not prepubescent your body is, but you finally use some good judgment and decide to watch your words. “It’s just as mean as me calling you old, so it’s only fair.”
“I guess so.” Professor Yang laughs quietly, and then he falls silent. Maybe he’s fighting the same battle as you, trying not to picture you under him. Or maybe he actually has his shit together and this isn’t an issue for him.
For once, he finally trusts you to be normal around him. You can’t blow it.
As you drive through the city, you tune into the rock music coming from his stereo. And the music selection is so ironic it fucking hurts.
“Don't want to be no uptown fool
Maybe I should go to hell, but I'm doin' well,
Teacher needs to see me after school...
“I think of all the education that I missed
But then my homework was never quite like this
Ow got it bad, got it bad, got it bad,
I'm hot for teacher
I got it bad, so bad,
I'm hot for teacher...”
You just sit there in wide-eyed terror as Van Halen streams from the speakers, and it takes Professor Yang a minute too long to realize what’s playing. He sucks in a quick breath when he notices, and scrambles to change the station.
He settles on another rock station that’s currently playing Def Leppard, and you try to make light of the situation. “Do you only have rock stations programmed on here?”
Professor Yang clears his throat and tries to relax back in his seat, casually gripping the bottom of the steering wheel with one hand. “I just have a favorite genre, don’t act like you’re any different. I’m sure I could probably guess what you’re listening to.”
“Go ahead, then.” You laugh. “What do you think is the last song I played on my phone?”
His lips press into a line as he thinks. “Okay, this is somewhat of an educated guess. I’m going to go with “Superstitious” by Stevie Wonder.”
“Solid choice, but that’s not it.” You don’t actually remember what you were listening to earlier, but you know it wasn’t Stevie Wonder.
“Plug your phone in, then. Let’s hear it.” He fishes out the aux cord, holding it out to you.
“Oh man,” you laugh as you pull out your phone. “You’re really gonna slam me if I’ve got something stupid pulled up.”
“That’s the point. I’m testing your taste.”
It feels like he’s in exceptionally high spirits tonight. Maybe it’s because the exhibit went so well. Whatever the case, it helps you feel lighter. You plug in the phone and open your music - and luckily you’ve got a damn good song ready to go.
“You know The Emotions?” You ask him.
“Sounds familiar.”
You press play, and “Best of My Love” picks up somewhere in the middle.
“Oh, I think I know this song!” He pipes up. “Wow, I haven’t heard this in forever.”
“It’s so good! One of my favorites, actually.”
“Demonstrating free love and affection
That you give so openly
The way I feel about you, baby, can't explain it
Want the whole wide world to see
Oh, woah
You’ve got the best of my love...”
You force yourself to avoid looking over at him as you listen to the lyrics, realizing just how terrible this song choice actually is given the history between the two of you. But still, it’s a little less applicable than Van Halen, so you leave it on. You just remind yourself yet again that you’re over him, and he’s over you. Whatever’s going on between you now is totally, completely normal and regular and fine.
As you both quietly listen to your music, you wonder what’s going on in Professor Yang’s head. Eventually he speaks up, and it’s a completely different topic.
“I’m excited to see how your dulcimer turns out,” he says simply.
“Me too. I feel pretty good about it.”
“I’m impressed with what you’ve done so far. I think it’ll sound quite nice once it’s finished.” He makes a right turn, sparing a glance your way. “The true test will be part of your final.”
“What do you mean?”
“For the last day of class, you’ll have to write and perform a minute-long piece on your instrument.”
You squint skeptically “Don’t you think you’re giving me a bit of an advantage by telling me that now?”
“Do you know how to play a dulcimer?”
“No.”
“Do you have access to one that you could practice on?”
“No.”
“Then no, I don’t think you’re getting an advantage. I’m going to tell everyone else about the assignment next week. They’ll all have just as much time to prepare as you.”
You suppose that makes sense and he isn’t actually giving you any kind of benefit, but you can’t help thinking of all of the bogus grade adjustments you’ve had to confront him about. It sits with you weirdly, and you struggle to decide whether you should say anything about it.
Eventually you reach your destination. He lives in a cute little neighborhood on the north side in one of those little houses that has been converted into apartments. There aren’t any open parking spots on the street in front of his place, but he manages to find a spot on the next block.
As he parallel parks, he turns around in his seat again to look out the back. And this time when he twists, he hisses and grabs his back like he’s in pain. “Ah, so old…”
It’s incredibly obvious that he’s faking because he’s a terrible actor, and you laugh. “This is why we have mirrors.”
He laughs with you and finishes pulling into the space. You both hop out and grab a few instruments from the back, and you let him lead the way down the sidewalk.
Professor Yang pauses at the door while he fishes for the right key. “I should warn you, I have a cat. Are you allergic?”
“Nope,” you smile. “I love cats!”
“He can be a little shy so he might not say hello.” He opens the main door and holds it open for you to step inside. You’re confronted with two more doors - one straight ahead and one to the right. He slips past you to unlock the one in front of you. He flips the light switch, illuminating the full length of the wooden staircase that heads directly up into his apartment. “Sorry to make you go up and down so many stairs. If you want, you can just stay down here and I’ll do all the heavy lifting.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoff. “I’m here to help. I’m not just going to stand around and watch.” You confidently cross the threshold into his apartment, taking the literal first step into his personal life. You feel kind of nervous about coming inside, but you suck it up. This is only a big deal if you make it one, and you refuse to do that.
The stairs drop you off at a hallway that stretches off to your left, and an open kitchen and living room area is off to the right. You can’t see too much of it because the lights over there are still turned off, but you can see the tall window-doors that lead to the balcony outside.
“You can drop them off in the living room. Don’t worry about taking shoes off since we’re just heading back out again anyway.” He comes up behind you and flips another light, illuminating the living room and kitchen.
You do as he instructs, placing the instruments against the wall in the living room. The room is minimally decorated with a nice couch, a single armchair, and two large bookcases filled to the brim with books - save for the one shelf that is packed with vinyl records. It doesn’t surprise you to see so many books and records - he seems like he’s very well-read, and he’s enough of a music lover that of course he’d enjoy listening to records.
As much as you want to check out his collection, you know that you shouldn’t explore his apartment. You’re here to unload his instruments. That’s it.
You force yourself to turn away from the bookshelves and vaguely gesture towards the stairs. “Shall we?”
It takes a few trips, but eventually you get all of the instruments inside. All the while you’re incredibly aware of how close he is when he holds the doors open for you, or how damn cute the back of his head is when you’re following him down the stairs. You hate it - how can the back of a head be cute?
Over and over, you remind yourself: I’m over him. I’m over him.
You set down the last guitar with a small sigh. “I can’t imagine you having to do all of this by yourself. I’m glad I came to help.”
“I could have handled it, but thank you for your assistance.” Professor Yang steps into the kitchen. “Do you need anything to drink before I take you home?”
“Oh, no, thank you.” You shake your head, not wanting to impose. “Um, but can I use your restroom?”
“Sure. It’s the second door down the hall.” He gestures around the corner.
You follow his directions. When you’re finished peeing and washing your hands, you notice a pretty blue cologne bottle sitting on his counter. You pick it up and sniff it. Sure enough, it’s exactly the cologne you remember smelling on him. It’s absolutely delicious, and against your better judgment, you spritz it once on the inside of your jacket, zipping it up to lock in the scent and hopefully keep him from noticing the weird-as-fuck thing you just did.
When you come out of the bathroom, you head back towards the kitchen, but just then he comes out of his bedroom, startling you and nearly bumping into you.
“Oh!” You shout as you jump backwards, laughing. “Sorry.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”
“It’s okay.” You brush it off.
He sniffs the air, and that’s when you know you fucked up. “Did you spray my cologne?”
You bite your lip, knowing there’s no point in lying. “I did.” He looks at you questioningly, so you fill in the gaps. “It just smells really good. I’m sorry.”
Professor Yang just watches you, and you’re fully aware of what a terrible idea it was to spray his cologne. And also what a terrible idea it was for you to even step foot into his apartment, let alone get in a car with him.
The rapid beating of your heart tells you that you’re still not over him. You don’t want to be over him.
What are you doing here? Why did you let yourself get to this point?
You need to leave. You need to turn around and get yourself out of this mess. But for some reason, you’re completely captivated by his gaze, frozen in place and entirely unable to save yourself from the impending disaster.
It’s been far too long since he’s said anything, and you’re dying to know what’s going on in his head. “What are you thinking right now?”
Too honestly, he responds, “It’s a bad idea for me to answer that question.”
“That answer makes it so much worse. What am I supposed to assume you’re thinking when you say that?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t assume anything.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you just answer my question.”
He huffs. “I’m thinking that you shouldn’t have come here. That you’re only twenty. That I can’t trust myself to…”
“Hm?” You hum, encouraging him to finish his sentence.
“I can’t trust myself to make good choices around you.”
Your heart beats wildly in your chest. Is he struggling just as much as you? Is he feeling the same pull of temptation, knowing that you’re all alone in his apartment, literally steps away from his bedroom? You have to be careful about what you say. “You’ve been doing a great job so far.”
“Why are you here?”
It’s obvious that he’s questioning your intentions, just like he did the first time he realized you were in his class. “I swear I just came to help with your instruments. I’m not trying to be sneaky.”
“Right.” Professor Yang’s lips press into a tight line, and you’re dying to know what’s going on inside his head.
It feels like he’s faltering. Like he’s holding your gaze for too long, keeping you in this apartment longer than you should be. You can’t help but feel responsible for getting yourself out of this before you both make a mistake.
But… part of you doesn’t want to stop this moment, doesn’t want to break free from whatever trap you’re falling into.
“I don’t know what to do.” You don’t think carefully enough about your words. “It feels like… we’re already keeping a secret. One more won’t make a difference.”
“You know damn well that the secret isn’t the issue. You’re my student. That’s the issue. It’s morally wrong.” Even as he speaks, you can feel that he doesn’t totally stand behind his words. Like he’s trying to convince himself that it would be wrong to act on whatever he’s feeling right now.
You remember everything Yanan told you about how Professor Yang has always had a rock-solid stance against teacher-student relations… But it seems like he could be questioning his own morality. If he really wants to shut this down, he could just break out of this moment and head for the car, drive you home and forget this even happened.
But he doesn’t.
It’s painfully silent between you - no one wants to make a move, no one wants to withdraw. You're desperate to just talk about all of this, but you're terrified of what could happen if you speak. You’re just stuck in this awkward limbo of not knowing what’s going to happen next.
You want so badly to reach out to him. To pull him close and feel him. You wonder what he’d be like as a lover now that you’re no longer strangers. It would be so easy for you to find out…
You take one small step towards him as a small sign that you’re open and willing, academia be damned. Professor Yang’s lips part ever so slightly as he scans your face, but he doesn’t back away.
Suddenly, there’s a noise in the kitchen, and you jump away from Professor Yang as if you’ve been caught - but it’s just his cat spilling its food all over the kitchen floor.
Still, that cut in the tension is enough to pull you out of the moment and help you clear your head. This is bad, and you need to leave. You refuse to look at him as you mutter, “I need to go.”
The second you try to pass him to hurry down the stairs, he turns and reaches out, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you in your tracks. The heat of his hand sears your skin.
“What are you-”
Before you can finish your question, Professor Yang pulls you into him, wraps an arm tightly around you, and presses one long, powerful kiss to your lips.
Your whole body lights up from head to toe. It’s an adrenaline rush like no other, a hit of the drug you were hopelessly addicted to that one summer night. This is exactly what you’ve been craving - his strong arms and soft lips remind you just how badly you’ve wanted his touch.
When he breaks the kiss, he presses his forehead to yours, breathing shakily. “Why can’t I get you out of my head?” And in that moment, it’s shockingly clear to you that he’s struggling with all of this just as much as you are.
God, you’re so done for. This man completely owns your heart. Without a doubt, you’re a complete and total sucker for him. And it’s frighteningly easy for you to own up to that, as you say the most dangerous thing you could possibly say: “You don’t have to, Hongseok.”
His jaw visibly clenches when you say his name, and his voice is strained when he finally speaks. “Tell me again that you need to leave. Tell me to drive you home right now.”
“If I don’t?” You challenge.
“Then there’s no reason why I shouldn’t keep you here.” Hongseok swallows thickly. “So tell me I should take you home.”
Your pulse is through the roof as he pulls back and your eyes lock, and you know that you’re way too impulsive to do as he asks. You’ve been pining after this man for months, and here he is, kissing you and practically admitting that he feels the same way. You can’t just go home now.
“I don’t want to go home.” You grab onto the hem of his sweater and tilt your chin upwards, inviting him to kiss you again. “I only want you.”
This feels nothing like the night you met him, when he was playful and sure of himself. It’s like you can sense all of the weight he’s carried with him over the last few months. His eyes scan over your face, and you get to see the slightest smile on his lips before he finally leans in to close the gap.
Just like that, you get everything you’ve wanted from him. Hongseok’s lips are just as plush as you remember and you completely melt into the kiss, and his rough hands cup your face. You feverishly return each kiss, grabbing fistfuls of his sweater and pulling him towards you. Your nose bumps the rim of his glasses, but you don’t mind it one bit.
Hongseok kisses you like his life depends on it. He yanks your jacket off of your shoulders, tossing it onto the ground as he backs you into his bedroom. Every time he cups your cheek or grabs your waist, you feel like you could just shatter in his hands.
You’re finally getting your fix and you love it.
His passion is explosive as he kisses you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in close. The strength and heat of him surprises you, as if your body has forgotten what it’s like to be with him. His lips are so soft and warm, and you’re swallowed whole by your insatiable lust for him.
You slip your hands under the hem of his sweater, desperate to feel his skin. You can feel every defined muscle as you drag your fingers across his back, and you moan quietly against his mouth when you feel his hand reach down to squeeze your ass.
Pleasure shoots through you with every small contact. His breath mingles with yours and gives you life, each kiss keeping your heart beating happily in your chest. Everything just feels so damn good.
You both stumble towards his bed, tearing at each others’ clothes until you finally get that sweater off of him and he gets you out of your top as well. The backs of your legs bump into the edge of his bed right before he pushes you back onto the comforter. You fall onto your back, and he leans over you, his mouth latching onto your neck as his hand fiddles with the button of your jeans.
You drag your fingers through his silky hair, and you feel him suck deeply on the skin at the base of your throat. It’s just strong enough to hurt a little, and you dig your nails into his back. “Oh my God,” you moan, absolutely possessed with lust as he marks you.
Hongseok yanks off your pants, and releases you so that he can unfasten his own. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch as he unclothes himself, his round glasses still perched on the bridge of his nose. He is just breathtakingly gorgeous.
There’s so much you want to ask him - was it hard for him to see you in class? Has he been thinking of you this whole semester? But you don’t ask any of those things, because you’re terrified to draw attention to your academic relationship. Sleeping with your professor is obviously the wrong choice to make, but you honestly couldn’t give a shit about any of that right now. It’s almost thrilling for you to know that you’re doing something you shouldn’t - but if you remind Hongseok of that, there’s a chance he’s not on the same page.
Hongseok smiles at you with that drop-dead gorgeous grin he has, and you know that at least right now he’s content to have you like this, spread out on his bed and waiting for him to finish getting naked. And that’s enough for you to decide to let the whole thing go and just enjoy living in the moment. You’re not going to ruin this by worrying.
As soon as he drops his pants, he’s on you again, like he couldn’t stand another second of distance from you. Hongseok’s mouth peppers your chest with kisses as a hand snakes beneath your back to unclasp your bra. He frees you from the garment, and his mouth eagerly wraps around one of your nipples, tonguing it and sucking gently.
“Bite it,” you plead, and he very willingly does as you ask. His teeth pinch your nipple, and you nearly cry out because it feels so good.
The last time you and Hongseok hooked up, you might have taken all the time in the world to get to explore each other’s bodies, but you could tell tonight would not be that way. You’ve both waited long enough for this dam to break and you need him so desperately.
You tug on his hair and he roughly palms you through your underwear, rushed and eager. After just a few moments he pushes your panties to the side and runs his fingers across your slickness. You’re so wet for him already.
He aggressively plunges one finger inside of you, practically shuddering at the way you moan when he does. He pumps a few times before slipping in another finger.
Then he pulls away from you. “Don’t move.” He goes over to his closet, and pulls down a box of condoms from the shelf. You smile, and then become quickly distracted as he pulls off his boxer briefs, his hard cock grabbing your attention.
He rolls on the condom and yanks you to the edge of the bed, slipping off your panties before bringing your legs to rest on his shoulders. He lines up the head of his cock with your pussy and presses inside of you, covering your legs with kisses and bites as his hips buck into yours.
It’s absolutely incredible and you’re so full with every thrust. His hips snap wildly into you and you moan, loving every second of this. Pure pleasure shoots through you, and then you fucking open your eyes.
It’s easy for you to just screw your eyes shut when you’re having sex, because closing your eyes lets you focus more on the pleasure that you feel. But when you look up to see Hongseok staring down at you with those sharp eyes of his, his rough fingers digging into your thighs, his abdominal muscles flexing every time his cock disappears inside of you… how could you not allow yourself to watch?
“You’re so fucking hot, oh my God…” The words come out against your will, but the deadly smirk on his lips makes you not regret it.
“I know.”
Cue the eyeroll. “And still a cocky little shit.”
“I might be.” Hongseok pulls your legs down so that they fall to either side of his waist, and he leans down over you, his lips brushing your ear. It’s clear that he’s not affected by the insult, and judging by the way the pace of this thrusting increases, you can only assume that he’s trying to prove his worth.
His forearms scoop under your upper back and his hands cradle your head as he fucks you, his kisses overwhelming your senses. You slip a hand between your bodies to rub your clit, and you moan against his mouth.
Pleasure burns through your body, your heart racing with each kiss, each thrust. The only thought in your head is the repeated chant of more, more, more, I need more. His cock slides deliciously in and out of you, completely covered in your wetness, but it isn't enough. Your fingers tirelessly press circles into your clit, but it isn't enough. You need more.
"Hongseok…" You mewl his name when he finally comes up for air.
His eyelids hang heavily as he hovers over you. "_____…"
Fuck, he's so beautiful. It steals your breath away to see him looking at you like this, breathing hard as he pounds into you. His gaze is possessive, like he's finally claimed you, and you honestly wouldn't mind calling yourself his. But that's neither here nor there.
You forcefully clench around him, squeezing his cock with all you've got. He certainly notices - he hisses as his eyes pinch shut at the feeling of you so tightly wrapped around his cock. His deep groan sends a shiver down your spine.
Hongseok’s voice is low as he says, “Christ, you feel so good.”
You don’t know what to say, or if you should even say anything. Hongseok’s expression is so serious as he locks eyes with you, like he’s genuinely lost in your gaze. It’s intimidating, yet it makes your heart race in the most incredible way.
You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, noting how easily the soft strands slip between your fingers and how his whole face softens at the touch. Hongseok’s eyes close as he leans into your hand, enjoying the gentle intimacy.
He slows the pace of his thrusting until he’s languidly rolling into you, his arm muscles bulging beneath you as he holds himself up. You move your hand to cup his face, and he presses a kiss to your palm, never breaking eye contact.
Fuck. You remember exactly why it was so easy to pretend like you were in love that first night.
Your fingers trace over his cheekbone, his jaw, his lips, remembering the excitement of exploring him for the first time. This time feels so different - it’s a weird combination of a dangerous thrill and caution. It’s impossible to remove from your mind the fact that you really shouldn’t be doing this - you’re too overwhelmed by wanting him to pay much attention to the rules of reality.
But you see it on his face, too. The trepidation, the hesitation, and the incredible amount of desire that overrides everything else.
As if Hongseok can tell that you’re beginning to overthink, he presses another kiss to your hand and gives you an easy smile. Softly, he murmurs, “It’s just you and me tonight.”
Aaaannnnddddd suddenly you’ve melted into a complete puddle.
“Just you and me,” you echo.
Hongseok lowers himself, meeting your lips with another passionate kiss. You grab hold of his hair and return each kiss, moaning quietly as he picks up his pace ever so slightly. His tongue slides between your lips as your hand returns to your clit, electric pleasure pulsing through you once more.
You are absolutely content to stay here all night, trapped in his embrace with his cock thrusting deep inside of you with every movement. You don’t want a single centimeter of space between you and him.
When you’re both breathing too hard to kiss properly, his mouth travels down to your neck, pressing sloppy kisses along your throat. Every swipe of his tongue draws a quiet cry from you, and you clench your muscles around his cock to return the pleasurable favor.
You hear a deep moan from him, confirmation that you’re making him feel good, too. It’s like music to your ears; all you want is for him to feel good.
Instead of continuing to touch yourself, you use both hands to scrape the short tips of your fingernails down his back to elicit more sounds from him. And then you cup his ass and encourage him to press harder, deeper. And you keep clenching.
“Jesus Christ,” Hongseok mutters. He’s unraveling in your hands. You can feel it.
“What is it, Hongseok?” You play dumb, letting out a sweet moan just a moment after posing your question.
“You keep squeezing me…” Hongseok’s breath is shaky, and part of you loves seeing him so affected by you. “It feels so good, fuck.”
Digging your fingernails into his ass cheeks, you ask, “Do you want to cum?”
You clench around him again right as he’s about to answer. “Aaahhh… fuck, oh my God.” He looks up at you with the slightest smile on his face. “What are you doing to me?”
“Making sure you feel good.” You smile coyly at him. “Is it working?”
“Yes. Fuck.” Hongseok lets out a short laugh.
Boldly, you ask, “Why don’t you cum for me then? Let me see you cum...”
“Is that what you want?”
“Mhm.” You nod, smiling.
Hongseok lowers his lips to your ear. “Alright, sweetheart.”
The nickname shocks your core - you don’t know why you’re such a sucker for it. You’re inclined to believe that just about anyone could call you sweetheart and immediately have you begging to be fucked.
What strikes you, though, is the slight difference you sense between hearing the nickname from Yanan versus Hongseok. When Yanan called you sweetheart, it felt sleazy, like he knew what kind of power it would hold and he wasn’t afraid to use it. That was hot in its own right. But when Hongseok calls you sweetheart, it feels strangely gentle and warm. Maybe it’s because of the way he holds you as he says it, the way his breath sweetly breezes past your ear. There’s something undeniably lovely about Hongseok, especially when he’s got you in his bed.
You press your lips to his temple, small moans coming from you as he keeps thrusting. The stretch of his cock feels absolutely amazing, and you’re completely captivated by every sensation - the rolling of his hips, the grip of his hand in your hair, the scent of his sweat mixing with his cologne.
With another clench of your pussy around his cock, you sense him hold back a moan, like he’s trying to hide just how easy it is for you to elicit a response from him. But at this point, you can’t be fooled. He’s so enamored by you that he couldn’t even let you reach the front door. And that fact is absolutely going to go to your head.
Hongseok loses himself in you, thrusting into you and biting your neck, sucking your skin harshly and drawing a pleasured cry from you. It feels like he wants to absolutely devour you. If you could give him any more of yourself, you absolutely would.
His breathing becomes ragged and you know that means he’s close. You card your fingers through his hair and whisper his name, and Hongseok lifts his head up to gaze down at you. His eyelids are heavy with lust, his lips parted from breathing hard.
“_____…” Hongseok murmurs your name, his eyes pinching shut. Your eyes just skim over his face, taking in his gorgeous expression. His hips snap into you a few more times until he empties into the condom, and it’s just as incredible to watch as you remember.
Hongseok almost immediately dives in for another kiss as soon as he finishes. You eagerly reciprocate, still in need of your own release. His lips are devastatingly soft and you don’t think you’ll ever get over it.
Without leaving your lips, he lifts himself off of you, allowing his hand to roam over your curves. You feel terribly empty when he pulls out, but his cock is quickly replaced by his fingers. You groan against his mouth as his fingers gently pump in and out of you, his thumb pressing circles into your clit.
Finally, he releases your lips, and without a word he repositions himself on the bed so that he’s kneeling between your legs, pressing fervent kisses to your thighs. The teasing doesn’t last long, though - surely he can sense how desperate you are for more.
His mouth quickly moves to your pussy, gently kissing and licking your folds while his fingers continue gliding in and out. And then he finally reaches your clit, and your whole body warms with pleasure.
Hongseok’s tongue is wet and hot as it works your clit, and he looks so fucking hot between your legs like this. You’re absolutely drowning in pleasure and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.
You don’t dare to hold yourself back, moaning freely to let him know just how amazing he is at going down on you. With each suck, each flick of his tongue, you become more unraveled, the tension in your belly growing astoundingly fast.
You curse under your breath, wishing you could just enjoy this forever. Hongseok’s hand roughly grips your thigh, calloused fingers digging into your soft skin. His mouth sends waves of pleasure through your body. And on top of it all, your heart pounds rapidly in your chest, making you believe there’s a chance this could possibly be something special.
Hongseok’s fingers pulse in time with his tongue, and before you know it the coil snaps. Your entire body tightens and releases as your orgasm crashes over you, powerful warmth racing through your veins. Wave after wave hits you, and Hongseok presses a flat tongue against your clit as you ride it out, and the walls of your pussy rhythmically squeeze his fingers.
It seems like a solid minute of pure bliss before the feeling eventually fades. Hongseok retracts his fingers and lips, and he takes a moment to tie off the condom and toss it into the trash can next to his dresser. And then Hongseok joins you on the bed, wrapping you in his strong arms as sleep tugs at your eyelids.
You wake up unbearably hot, and it doesn’t take you long to realize why. You’re completely pressed up against Hongseok’s naked body, and that man is a radiator.
You smile at his sleeping face for only a moment before you start to fill with dread.
You hadn’t meant to spend the night, but you did.
You hadn’t meant to sleep with your professor, but you did.
It was an accident the first time. This time is completely inexcusable.
What were you thinking? How could you have let any of this happen? You’re fully aware of the consequences and yet you slept with him anyway. And you spent the night.
You peel yourself off of him. He seems to be a heavy sleeper and he doesn’t notice the movement, thank God. You hurry out of the bedroom, pulling on your clothes as you find them on the floor until you’re dressed enough to head out. And right as you reach the stairs, you hear him.
“_____?”
You pause. Of course you couldn’t just slip out unnoticed.
But you have to leave. You don’t want to talk to him about any of this right now. You’re up to your eyes in anxiety and you just need to get out. You can’t even muster up the courage to turn around and see if he’s out of bed.
“I’m sorry.” It’s all you can think to say as you rush down the stairs and out the door.
The three hour train ride to get you home is too long for you to be left alone with your own thoughts. The fact that your jacket smells like Professor Yang’s cologne certainly doesn’t help. You replay last night’s events over and over in your mind, partly thrilled by the memory of sleeping with him and partly disappointed in yourself for your bad decision-making.
Last night was incredible. Spending time with Professor Yang at his showcase was actually really fun, and you have a new admiration for his talents and intelligence. Chatting with him in the car was so comfortable. And the way he fucked you…
You bury your face in your hands and lean towards the window of the train, hiding because you’re embarrassed to be having such lewd thoughts in public. You pull your turtleneck collar a little higher just to make sure the lovely hickey he left is appropriately hidden.
What are you going to do when you see him in class after break? Just pretend like nothing is going on as per usual, you assume.
And what does this mean for everything with Kino? You’re supposed to be spending this short vacation thinking about what kind of future you want with him, not figuring out whether you regret an undoubtedly terrible choice you just made.
And Wooseok… you haven’t even addressed the fact that you were supposed to be at his place last night instead of Professor Yang’s. He hasn’t reached out to you either, so you assume that he was too drunk to remember your plans.
You’re going to have to dump all of this on Minseo as soon as you see her at the train station, since she’s the only one in the world who knows what happened between you and Professor Yang this summer. And honestly, you’re not sure if she’s going to be thrilled or pissed by what you’ve done.
You spend most of the train ride trying to distract yourself with music and a book, and by the time you arrive you actually start to feel excited about seeing Minseo. You tuck your book back into your backpack, grab your suitcase from the front of the train car, and step off of the train. The platform is full of other disembarking passengers, and you assume she must be waiting inside the station’s lobby.
You pull out your phone as you roll your suitcase towards the lobby, and you’re surprised to see that she hasn’t responded to your text confirming what time she needed to be here to pick you up. That’s not necessarily a bad sign, but it’s not promising. You decide to try calling her, but she doesn’t answer.
“I swear to God, if you forgot about me…” You seethe an empty threat at your phone as you hang up.
And then you hear your name called over the rumbling of your suitcase next to you. It’s a voice that you never in a million years expected to find here at this train station.
Your eyes dart around the room until you finally locate him, your heart completely stopping and your stomach dropping to the floor.
He’s actually here. Right in front of you.
Your brother is here.
“Jinho?”
POST SCRIPT | Thank you for reading! Please stay tuned for Part 10, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I post it!
UPDATE | Read Part 10 here!
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © GWENTORYFICS. NO TRANSLATIONS, REPOSTING, AND/OR MODIFYING OF THE MATERIAL IS ALLOWED WITHOUT MY DIRECT PERMISSION.
#ksmutclub#uninet#universe-net#hongseok smut#kino angst#wooseok angst#hongseok fanfic#hongseok scenario#hongseok scenarios#kino fanfic#kino fanfics#kino scenario#kino scenarios#hyunggu angst#hyunggu fanfic#hyunggu fanfics#hyunggu scenarios#hyunggu scenario#wooseok fanfic#wooseok fanfics#wooseok scenario#wooseok scenarios#pentagon smut#pentagon angst#pentagon scenario#pentagon fanfic#pentagon scenarios#pentagon fanfics
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Away From the Edge Part 2
Summary: Luca admonishes the 118 and part of Buck's past is revealed.
Trigger Warning: Attempted Suicide Mention, Mentioned child and human trafficking, and mentioned child death. Homophobic bullying mentioned but not towards Buck, Luca, or Carlos.
A/N: This is where the Rizzoli & Isles characters come in but only through text and a phone call.
Luca paced in the ER waiting room waiting for any news on his husband. His mind a mess of Why’s and What if’s. Why hadn’t he come to him about feeling this way? What was the cause? Why did know one notice or if they had why hadn’t they helped? What if he hadn’t been there to talk his husband down? What if he had been too late and Buck jumped anyway? He’s brought out of his thoughts and halts in pacing when his phone rings. He curses softly at the caller ID before answering. “Hey, Ma.” He says resuming his pacing. “I heard you were surprising Evan. How’d it go?” He can hear the happiness in her voice despite her calling his husband by his first name. It was something she did with all her children’s significant others. He takes a breath before coming mostly clean. He never lied to his family just sometimes omitted things if he thought it would make his ma worry more than necessary.
“I didn’t get the chance to surprise him. At least not how I wanted to. I’m in the ER waiting room.” He says wincing at the sharp intake of breath. “What happened? Is anyone hurt? I’m-”He cuts off her rambling knowing that she was about to say that she was catching the first available flight out of Boston that she could. “No, Ma. You don’t need to come all the way out here. I’ll tell you when I know anything.” He leaves out the fact that Buck had tried to kill himself. “Alright, call me when you know something.” She demands before they end the call. He then pulls up the group chat for his siblings besides the ones in Austin. He debates on just messaging his siblings individually leaving his twin sister out of it. She didn’t need any more stress especially if the IVF treatments worked and she was carrying either Buck’s baby with her or his sister Sofia’s egg or his baby with Buck’s sister Maddie’s egg. He decides against leaving her out of the loop knowing that she’d find out somehow.
Luca: Buck tried to kill himself. At hospital waiting to see him. Think he’s only suffering from exhaustion and dehydration. Let you know more when I do.
The responses are almost instantaneous.
Frankie: What happened?
Jane: Is this why Ma called me worried?
Tommy: Is he alright?
He doesn’t get a reply from his twin though.
Luca: He was going to jump from a bridge. Not sure why yet. Might be because of how his team was treating him after the lawsuit. Yes, don’t tell Ma, Jane. Please.
Jane: I won’t little brother. Me and Frankie are working a case or we’d be hopping on a plane.
Tommy: I’d be on a plane but the airport is closed because of the hurricane.
Luca: It’s alright. Good Luck with your case and Tommy for the love of god please be careful.
He finally gets a text from his sister but not in the group chat.
Ilaria: On way. Picking up Carlos. Already told him. See you in a few hours. I’ve got news.
He doesn’t get a chance to reply before he has another incoming call. It’s Carlos. He knows there’s a good chance that he might finally breakdown when he takes the call. “Lu.” The concern in his brother’s voice has him stumbling into one of the waiting room chairs. “I almost lost him ‘los. He was ready to jump.” His voice breaks as tears finally start to trail down his cheeks. “I’ll be there soon, pequeño.” His brother reassures. “You have work and what about TK? He’s still recovering.” He protests even though he wants nothing more than his brother here with him or even Judd. “Luca, I am more than fine recovering by myself.” He hears TK yell and he chuckles a little. “Are you at the station?” He asks spotting Maddie and the 118 is behind her his lip curls a little at the sight of them and he feels his posture change straightening in the chair. “Yeah, here’s Judd.” Carlos says not even having to have him ask and he hears shuffling over the phone. “Hey brother, you doin’ ok? Heard you just got back.” His friend’s voice is uncharacteristically soft. “Yeah, thought I’d surprise him. I’m honestly barely holding it together. They had to sedate him because he wouldn’t let go of me and I’m not allowed in the room with him. He fought the sedative Judd. He looked so afraid to let me out of his sight. Like if he gave in and fell asleep, he’d wake up and I’d be gone. The sound that left him when they finally got him off me was something I don’t ever want to hear again.” He hears Judd let out a harsh breath. They both had seen people fight against sleep whether from exhaustion, medication, or from losing consciousness. In their experience it was for one of three things, sometimes more than one of the three. The first being that they are trying to protect someone or something. Second being fear that if they succumb to that feeling they won’t wake up and the third being nightmares or fear of waking up back inside a trauma. Mostly seen with soldiers but some people on the more traumatic calls did it.
He hears the bell ring for a call. “I gotta go but you better keep me updated.” Judd’s voice is harder now no longer holding its previous softness. “I will. Maddie’s here and so is his crew.” He says hanging up. He stands pocketing his phone and Maddie throws her arms around him. He holds her awkwardly for a few moments before wrapping his arms around her letting her sob against him. His eyes scan the members of the 118 falling on the Asian man whose eyes held a hint of jealousy. He could see that all of them were tense and displayed various ranges of guilt. “I’m sorry.” She tells him spotting the wet patch on his shirt from her tears. He just shrugs her concern off. It wasn’t the worst bodily fluid he’d had staining his shirts. “It’s fine, Maddie.” He tells her and she nods. “Any news?” He shakes his head. “No, probably won’t be for a while. They had to sedate him, and he fought it so they ended up giving him another dose. He’ll be out for a while and then they’ll want to do a psych eval. We might not even get to see him depending on how long they want to hold him.” He tells her truthfully. “Why did they have to sedate him.” He eyes the brown eyed man taking in his posture. Clearly military and that makes his blood burn even more. This must be Eddie. The army medic and his husband’s supposed best friend.
“He refused to let go of me and he fought the sedative.” He can see a look of realization cross the man’s features. Eddie probably associated that with the same things that he and Judd did. “Someone better tell me why you all decided to treat my husband like he was no longer a part of your family and like shit to the point that he was afraid to let me out of his sight. Like I would vanish if he closed his eyes.” He tried to keep his voice level but the thought of these people who were in a profession where your coworkers become your family has it rising slightly. Eddie is the one who speaks up clenching his hands and stepping closer. “He sued us.” Is what Eddie snaps out clearly angered by what happened still. “No, he sued the department because his Captain let his personal feelings cloud his judgement and lied to him about who didn’t want him back.” He feels a sense of pride when they turn their gaze to their Captain. “Either way that does not give you the right to abuse and ostracize one of your own. That is an abuse of power on your part Captain.” Captain Nash looks away in shame and guilt. He turns to Henrietta someone who he had heard good things about an knew his next words were going to be a low blow, but she needed the warning in case something did happen. “What happens when this gets out? What’s going to happen to your children. Did you think about them before you acted?” Hen recoils and shakes her head. “No, I didn’t and I’m sorry.” She is sincere with her words and he knows that she hadn’t joined in on the abuse and belittling of his husband, but she didn’t speak up either. He skips over the Asian man letting Maddie deal with her boyfriend and turns back to his husband’s best friend.
“You were his best friend. The one who promised to have his back. Something I appreciated since, God knows, my husband gets himself into all kinds of trouble. You took Christopher away from him and told him he had abandoned him. Like he wasn’t trying to see him or help him out. That man loves your son like he was his own and you took that away.” He doesn’t realize he had started to yell until Maddie places her hand on his shoulder and he sees that his outburst had drawn a few gazes of other occupants in the waiting room. He decides to give his husband’s team a little bit of his and his husband’s background. Buck could yell at him later, but he needed to get his point across. “Want to know why Buck’s so attached to your son? A mission overseas in Kandahar dealing with a human trafficking ring. Anywhere Buck went he befriended the local children. Would give them treats, tell them one of his endless facts, or showed them a game. We had liberated one compound finding it mostly empty but a few sick captives. One of the ones left behind was a deaf boy. He took an immediate liking to Buck despite his lack of ASL or BSL knowledge that I have. We had only been married for a year and a half but we wanted to adopt the boy. His name was Noah.” He tells them trying not to get lost in the memories of that mission. Not with how it ended.
“You said was.” Eddie says and he gives him a confused look. “You said his name was Noah not is. What happened? Did you decide not to adopt him, or did you find his parents?” Eddie continues and he can see the look of hope in his eyes. He clears his throat of the lump that had formed. He had only told Carlos, Judd, and Ilaria what had happened. “We had gotten the group back to base. We didn’t know it at the time but some of the traffickers had been soldiers at the base. When it came time to transport the group for better care a few days later they made themselves known. Buck had been carrying Noah who was no older than 7 when a sniper took a shot. Buck saw it at the last second and turned his body to shield Noah. The sniper was using HVAP rounds. The bullet went through Buck’s body and into Noah. It had pierced his heart and he bled out in Buck’s arms despite suffering a comminuted fracture of his collar bone he was the one who dug Noah’s grave. Noah would have been your son’s age.” He clears his throat again and Maddie wipes the tears from her face before handing him a bag. “It’s a change of clothes and I brought a charger.” He nods and heads to a bathroom to change. He changes quickly into the maroon sweatpants, grey t-shirt and sneakers before spotting the hoodie Maddie had packed. It was well worn and the rainbowed “Sorry, Girls I’m Gay.” had faded slightly. It was a gift he had gotten for Buck when they had first started dating as a joke. It was Buck’s favorite thing to wear when they lounged around.
He slips the hoodie on before packing his fatigues and boots into the bag. The hoodie was a little longer and wider in the shoulders since his husband was taller and a little broader than him. He steps out of the bathroom and heads back over to Maddie who was sitting away from the others. “Ilaria and Carlos are coming.” He tells her and she nods patting the seat beside her. They lean against each other as they wait.
He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep until someone is shaking him awake. “Wake up little brother.” He groans green-grey eyes looking into an identical pair. “Ilaria?” He questions before the previous events flash through his mind and he’s sitting up. “Yeah, little brother.” She says and he looks around spotting his brother who’s talking with a doctor and pointing to him. “We’re the same age.” He says pulling a laugh out of his sister. “I’m older.” She says and he shakes his head. “By like 15 minutes.” He says standing and walking over to Carlos and the doctor while Ilaria takes his spot next to Maddie. “Hey.” He hates how his voice comes out soft. “Hey, pequeño.” He watches the doctor leave and gives his brother a questioning look. Carlos motions for him to follow him down a hall. “They’re keeping him for the full 72 hours but he should be able to go home after. You can stay with him. The doctor said it’s probably for the best when I explained what Judd explained to me.” Carlos hasn’t pulled him in for a hug knowing his boundaries with touching. “How he…How he was..” He can’t even get the words out before tears are failing down his face and he’s burrowing his head into his brother’s chest. He feels Carlos wrap his arms around him whispering soothing words in Spanish.
After a few minutes his breathing returns to normal and his tears stop. He pulls back and drags his hands across his face to wipe away the tears. “Room 1236. I’ll go inform the others and attempt damage control with your twin.” Carlos tells him pulling a small laugh from him. His twin was most likely already on the war path. She could be vengeful and petty when it came to those she loved being wronged. He nods and heads to the room knocking on the door frame to alert the person watching over his husband that he was there. The older man motions for him to come in.
“They said he’d be out for a few more hours. I’m Egil.” The man has a slight accent to his voice. It was one that he couldn’t place but was familiar. “I’m Luca.” He says sitting in the chair next to Buck’s bed and grab his hand. “He’s my husband. I’ve been overseas for the past few months.” He explains and the man nods. “You don’t mind that I’m in here do you?” Egil asks him and he shakes his head. “No, I don’t mind.” He says running his free hand through Buck’s hair. “I remember sitting where you were but instead of my husband it was my son.” Egil speaks up after a few moments and he turns his head to face him. “He was about 18 and close to graduating high school. He had a crush on one of the jocks. He had told his best friend who in turn told her boyfriend. The boyfriend was the jock’s best friend and so he wrote my son a note telling him to meet him behind the old movie theater by the school. I remember my son was so happy even though he was nervous as hell.” Egil has a sad but fond smile on his face. He could figure how this went. It was something that had happened to him but had ended with more than just teasing.
“His crush wasn’t there but the rest of the baseball and football teams were. The had thrown slurs at him and shoved him around before dumping him into the dumpster. He had smiled when he came home like nothing happened despite being covered in movie theater trash. He said he loved us like normal and headed up to bed.” Egil lets out a humorless laugh. “I figured something wasn’t right, but I figured he’d come to me. About half an hour or so later his best friend was calling and explained what happened. I went up to his room and he had hung himself. He wasn’t up there long and was revived in the ambulance.” He tightens his hold on Buck’s hand. Why was he telling him this? “In the hospital I sat with him like you. Then about 3 days after his attempt the jock comes in when I’m gone and sits with him.” He can’t help but ask “What did you do?” Now Egil has a full-on smile. “I watched them and saw how much that boy was in love with my son. He talked to him. Told him how sorry he was for what had happened. How when he woke up if he wanted, they could go out on a date.”
“Did he wake up?” He was slightly afraid to ask not sure if he truly wanted the answer. “Yes, and they went on that date. The baseball and football teams lost their most valuable player, and my son lost his best friend.” He was glad the story had a somewhat happy ending. “They got married about 6 years ago and are expecting their first child by surrogate.” Egil’s words make him think back to his sister. “My twin is helping us. She said she had news. Does it make me a bad person that a small part of me wants her not to be pregnant right now?” He asks and Egil shakes his head. “No, it’s understandable. You want to focus on your husband getting better but, I have a feeling that if your sister is pregnant, you would step-up despite the less-than-ideal circumstances. I’ll let you have a few hours of alone time with him. When you want to leave have the nurses at the nurses station call me.” Egil says before leaving shutting the door behind him. He lays his head down on the bed with a sigh. He was exhausted the 15 or so hour flight catching up to him. He promises himself just a few moments with his eyes closed.
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Summer Job
I'm dying its 2 am god help me
Taglist: @albino-whumpee @torture-as-lovely-as-you
Let me know if you want to be tagged in other stories than Don't get far away Precious or not cause i do not know shit about taglists
CW/ manipulation and abuse mentions and threats, slight rape mention
Mikołaj went to sleep finally, squeezing himself next to the mattress on the hard floor. It wasn't pleasant, and he always woke up a little cranky afterward.
- Honey. - A familiar voice woke him up for good. It was his mom, softly smiling at him - I made breakfast... it's not much but you still gotta eat something.
- Okay... - Mikołaj sighed, blushing a bit. His mom still treated him like a little boy sometimes.
He sat down at the table next to his little brother. There wasn't much for breakfast. Some buns bought on the end of the day sale, with cheese and tomatoes, and cheap black tea to drink. Mikołaj looked down at the cup, the water was muddy, it wasn't of the best quality around these parts of the city.
- thank you, mom... For the breakfast - he smiled a little and the woman nodded. - I have to go to work soon so I probably won't eat a lot.
- But it's Sunday, I thought you would stay home today. - Magda frowned - You already work too hard during the week. You should get some rest.
- I was hoping we would go hang out today...! - his brother pouted, not happy.
- Mom, Tymek, I have to, and it's not a big job either. I will try to be back sooner today, I promise.
Magda wouldn't push her son anymore to stay, so she just sighed with a pained expression.
He ate one bun and drank the tea as fast as he could. Got a change of clothes and left the house, with a simple "I love you" while leaving. A man from another block of flats said he will pay him for repairing his shower. The man was an acquaintance of his. While they weren't friends, they talked a bit, and Mikołaj accidentally confessed to having this dire situation with money.
He knocked on the front door, to soon be greeted by the man. His name was Josef, and he was a middle-aged man, with short brown hair and round glasses. A kind face and from what Mikołaj could gather, he was a father to two kids, and after a divorce.
- Here you are! I was waiting for you. - Josef chuckled softly and invited the boy inside, showing him what was wrong with the shower, which Mikołaj started working on almost immediately - You know Miko, You need quick money right?
- Yeah, kinda... - Mikołaj bit his lip. - stupid shower head...
- Listen here, I know this guy, he has a work agency. He mostly hires young strong men like you, you work abroad, and earn much more this way. Usually only for about a month or two.
- w-wait really? - Mikołaj stopped for a bit. It sounded... A little shady to say the least. But he did worse things and if a kind father is recommending this, maybe it's actually a good opportunity. - Can you give me the guy's number? I will call him today if I can.
- Sure thing Miko. - The man smiled.
After finally fixing the shower, Josef wrote down the man's number on a piece of paper, paid Mikołaj, and sent him home. But before he returned to his mom and brother, the boy sat down at a secluded bench in the local park. He stared intensely at the number Josef wrote down. He was still debating if he should call it. But he didn't have many options at this point. He slowly put the number in his phone and rang.
- Good evening, how can I help you? - the voice belonged to a young woman, it was calm and soft.
- Uhm... Good evening. I've heard of job offerings in this agency. My friend, Josef recommended I call.
- Ah! Yes, yes! Of course! So you will need to send us your resume and talk in person of course - The woman explained everything
Except what the job abroad actually was. But Mikołaj didn't think much of it. If it made money and wasn't prostitution, he was in.
It was some time for the in-person meeting to happen, but it wasn't at all what the boy had imagined.
The man sitting before him was not much older than Mikołaj himself, 30 at most, but Mikołaj gave him 26. He had dark black messy hair, medium length. Brown eyes and wore sunglasses on his head. Golden chains on his neck and other expensive jewelry. He looked rich, to say the least. Not to mention the place of the meeting. Almost empty office room, in a freshly built business complex. Most of the spaces in it were just put out to be rented.
- Hi Mikołaj. - The man spoke up with a giggly, yet deep voice - You can call me Vasya. You're just going to sign those papers and you're hired for the month. If all goes well maybe we will hire you for a month more. - He slid a few papers on the table.
- N-no questions? I thought this was an interview... I mean don't get me wrong please, I'm just really surprised. - He chuckled nervously, slowly looking down at the papers.
- No questions. I think your resume said enough and just from looking at you, I think you will be a great fit. We need healthy, strong young men. It will be a physically taxing job but you wrote you did many jobs like that.
- I guess... - With shaky hands he took the papers in his hands, trying to comprehend what he was actually signing. But seeing the pay, stated at the end was enough to make him stop reading, and just take the pen. He signed it, never asking any more questions. This much money will get them a better flat and food for sure.
Even if the job was gross or heavily taxing, he will bear it. It's only a month, right? And if it's great, he can work for two months. That would secure their life for a long time.
He came back home with the news and a smile on his face. He burst through the door and hugged his mom tight
- O-oh dear! You got the job I presume. - his mom laughed and tousled his hair with a gentle expression. - I'm just sad you're going to be gone for a month or two.
- Mikołaj! So you're going? Is.. it bad I kinda hoped you wouldn't? You go out every day almost...
- I'm sorry Tymek. I really am. I promise after I come back, we're going to move to a nice place and I'm gonna spend much more time with you. - Mikołaj smiled softly, trying to comfort his little brother.
- I suppose... But you really promise, right? - he noded - Okay. Please call us every day though!
- I will. They will come to pick me up by bus the day after tomorrow, so I have to start packing soon. - the brown-haired boy hugged them both again and went to the other side of the room to search for a bag to pack.
The departure day came soon. It was a warm June morning, Mikołaj was standing at a bus stop near his house, waiting for the work bus to come. Clutching his bag in his hand, he looked up at the bus stop screen for the time. It was a little late, but when he looked away from the clock, the bus was coming from the other street. It stopped and opened its door.
- Mr. Kasperczyk? - The bus driver looked at him suspiciously - Show your ID
- Sure. - Mikołaj nodded and showed his ID, the driver promptly inviting him on board.
He walked into the bus, full of young men, probably not much older than himself. Some sat alone, sulking or sleeping, some laughed together in pairs. Seems normal enough. Mikołaj sat down in an empty seat and tired, pressed his head between the window and the seat, slowly falling asleep, still clutching his bag.
He slept through the whole journey, only the familiar face of Vasya, seemingly his new boss, waking him up.
- Wakey wakey sleepy-head. You all have to settle in your rooms. - He smiled. He had a charming aspect to his demeanor, but it kind of made Mikołaj uneasy. He nodded and stood up.
He wasn't sure how he was supposed to treat Vasya, so he'd rather avoid him.
- I will visit all of you in the evening after dinner, okay? - Vasya waved them goodbye and jumped right back into the bus. Was he on it the whole time and Mikołaj didn't notice? Maybe.
The boy looked around. The building was clearly a worker hotel but didn't look too cheap. It looked cozy, and the receptionist informed them they had all separate rooms. She also gave them the keys, and information regarding breakfast and dinner hours. It was all provided for. Mikołaj got a room on the second floor. He opened the wooden door, to see a comfortable-looking room, it was small, smaller than their already small flat but it was more than enough for him. The bed had a birch wooden frame, it was made, and covered with a soft beige blanket. Next to it was a big window and a nightstand, and a wardrobe, all made from birch to fit with the bed. The bathroom was also private. the door was on the right of the entrance, it was also pretty tiny, but it had a shower, toilet, and a sink, all relatively clean, so what more could he ask for?
Mikołaj put the bag down next to the bed and sent a quick text to his mom that he got there safely, and first taking off his shoes, he laid down on the bed. It was soft... and so comfortable. He cracked a little smile, he will buy a similar bed for himself when he gets back for sure. No more back pain and cranky mornings. He could lay in this bed for an eternity... almost forgetting what he was actually here for. Work. Physical work at that.
He rolled around on the bed until dinner time came around. It was probably the first time in forever he would eat an actual dinner, usually, it was just lunch, sometimes breakfast. The boy jumped from the bed and stretched a little.
- Foood... - He smiled, his belly growling from just a thought.
The dining room was pretty small, for sure all of the workers from the bus did not end up in the same hotels. He looked around. The tables were for two, max five people, and it was a buffet. A buffet... all you can eat one. Ah, how he wished it was like this every day at home. Or that at least he could share with his family but alas.
The buffet tables were filled with food, it wasn't the most expensive kind, but it made mikołaj salivate at the mere thought. Sausages, bread and a toaster for it, tomatoes, cucumbers, eggs, and different jams, cereals, and porridge, fresh fruit, coffee, tea... It was a feast for Mikołaj, and afterward, he returned to his room, full, completely forgetting the visit from Vasya was supposed to happen. So he was relaxing in his room until a knock snapped him out of the light mood.
- Yes?
- It's me. I said I'd come. - It was the man's voice, giggly as always. Mikołaj opened the door and let him in. - You probably want to know what is the job right. - he chuckled a bit, and closed the door, yet still positioning himself as if he was guarding the door.
- well... Yeah, and when do we start? - Miko sat down on the bed again, staring intensely at Vasya. - It's not like prostitution is it?
- No, we wouldn't trick you into prostitution, oh my! - Yet his face looked suspiciously calm. - But you would be surprised what people pay for nowadays. Good money! Tell me little Miko, you're probably used to being beaten up huh?
Mikołaj's face turned white, and he gulped, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. He knew just from looking at him, didn't he? Or was it the giant barely healed wound on his eye the giveaway. Either way, the boy didn't like it one bit.
- What do you mean? - He finally spits out, not looking at Vasya anymore.
- It's simple, people pay for getting one of you, for ten hours, to do whatever they like. The rules are simple, no fatal injuries or rape, or else they deal with me and that's not going to be pleasant. I'm not a monster, I wouldn't let random people actually hurt you! - He said with a grin. - If customers like you, you get paid more usually. You can also agree to do sexual things but you don't have to. It actually doesn't pay that much around these parts.
- So you... You send us to be basically abused for ten hours and you pay us for it. What... What the fuck is wrong with you?
- Careful with those words, pretty boy. - the grin disappeared from the man's face, sending a chill down Mikołaj's spine. - You don't have a choice anymore. You signed your fate away for at least a month! If you break the contract, this family of yours will probably end up on the street soon. Time is ticking, you better do something. I'm giving you a generous offer!
- Sh-shut it. - He bit his lip. Vasya was right, they were on the verge of homelessness. - Okay. It... it's only one month.
- If they like you and you agree maybe tw-
- I know! Fine, holy shit, I will do it! Just... Send the money directly to my family alright?
- Will do that. I hope you stay for longer little Miko! Ah, you have an appointment already tomorrow, at noon, you will be escorted by a taxi from here. Good night and good luck! - He smiled and left the perplexed boy in his room.
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Chapter 9
A Little bit of Happiness and Little bit of Chaos
The warmth of the afternoon sun fell on Magnus' face breaking his beauty sleep. He stirred then woke up and sat on his bed. He looked around and saw the time on his ancient yet still working alarm clock, it was around 12 in the afternoon. 'Shit! How did I... ' then he remembered his morning patch up session with Alec and falling asleep in his arms. He sighed then looked down at his wedding ring, played with it a little, going deep in thoughts for some time. He was about to get out of the bed when his eyes fell upon a note kept under the alarm clock. He picked it up and quickly opened it, it was Alec's handwriting.
Morning sleepyhead, I hope you didn't wake up with the stupid nightmare again, if you did, remember I'm just a phone call away, you can portal me home whenever you want. I made breakfast for you before leaving, I know you didn't have dinner last night. Eat and inform me that you did. I'll be waiting for your call. I love you, Magnus Lightwood Bane.
Husband♡
Magnus looked at the note, his fingers gently stroking over the words written on them, feeling the texture of the paper. A tiny smile formed on his lips. He kept the note in the drawer of the side table and went to the bathroom to get freshen up.
After taking a quick shower and getting freshen up, he went to the kitchen. When he reached there, he saw a plate which had scrambled eggs, two sliced bacon, butter toast, a bowl of few diced fruits and a glass of orange juice placed near it. He sighed softly, his heart melted over this small gesture. Just as he was about to eat it, his phone buzzed loudly. He saw the caller ID, it was Alec, he picked it up quickly.
"Hey Alexander, I saw what you did. I appreciate it, but it wasn't needed!"
Alec sighed in relief, which Magnus clearly heard, confused as to why he was stressed.
"I swear Magnus Lightwood Bane, you scared the hell out of me! I thought you had the nightmare again and wasn't telling me, I was about to head back home! Why didn't you call me when I asked you to!?"
Magnus was confused at first but then he remembered the note. He sighed.
"Oh! I.. just woke up and saw the note and the breakfast. I.. didn't eat it yet!" He confessed, then continued. "But.. what got you so scared? I'm completely fine. Relax!"
"Are you kidding me! Magnus, check your damn phone!"
Magnus checked his phone, he had 5 missed calls from Alec and some texts asking if he had breakfast or if he was fine, or if he needed him home. He gulped nervously.
"I'm sorry for scaring you, Alexander. I just woke up and I'm fine, don't worry."
"Don't worry? Mags, it's afternoon. You slept for that long when you hate oversleeping! Are you okay? did you-"
"Hey, calm down, Alexander! I'm fine. On the contrary, I slept peacefully as I didn't do much sleeping last nig-" He regretted immediately what he just said, mentally cursing himself.
Alec wasn't shocked or surprised by this as he himself didn't. He was worried about him the whole time. He knew that this needed to be fixed and he knew exactly how.
"Meet me in my office immediately!" He said in his all authoritative tone.
"A.. Alexander!?" Magnus was now nervous and guilty that he has him all worried and upset while he's working.
"In my office! Now! And I'm not saying it again!" With that, he hung up the call.
Magnus gulped, he quickly stored all the breakfast in the fridge with the help of his magic, then went to the bedroom.
___________________________________
When Alec hung up the call, he quickly cleared his table which was covered with books related to Kasper Windermere he was researching about, and shoved them into the lower compartment of his desk, aware that Magnus can come at any moment.
Within a minute a portal opened up in the center of his office and Magnus stepped out of it, looking all scared and guilty. Alec stood from his chair, walked towards his husband, and looked at him sternly.
"Alexander! Hey, I didn't mean to scare you, look I'm completely fine, you don't have to be worr-" he was cut by Alec's soft lips around his own. He was surprised at first, but then kissed him back making it more passionate.
Alec broke the kiss after some time. "Shut up!"
"You already made me!"
Alec glared at him. Magnus gulped, then looked away.
"W..Why did you call? Something important?"
"Yes, it is. I want you to go on a lunch date with me!" He said in a flat tone.
Magnus looked at him jaw-dropped, unable to say anything.
Alec suppressed his smile, wanting to play it for a longer time but then decided against it.
"Magnus, I'm free for an hour so I thought we could have lunch together, I know a good restaurant which Izzy told me about and I'm aware you're all stressed up, and to be honest so am I. With what happened yesterday... I think we both need to spend some time together." He looked at him with a soft smile.
Magnus sighed. "You had me scared Alexander!"
"Payback for scaring me like that!" Alec smirked.
Magnus shook his head at him. "I have no words... "
Alec then offered his hands to him. "I'm free for an hour only, so shall we?"
Magnus took his hands and kissed him softly. "Okay!"
________________________________
They reached the restaurant within a few minutes. The restaurant was constructed beautifully; it had themed interiors and was cold and cozy.
"It's beautiful!" Magnus confessed.
"Wait till you eat the food!" Alec said with an excited tone.
Magnus looked at him with a soft smile. They then walked towards the corner end of the restaurant away from all the crowd, took their seat, and ordered their lunch. Within ten minutes their food arrived.
"The food is really good!" Magnus said with a mouthful of his food.
"I knew you'd like it!"
Magnus looked at him then moved his hand towards his and intertwined their fingers, Alec rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand gently. They sat in comfortable silence eating their food when Magnus decided to speak up.
"Alexander, I'm really sorry about yesterday, I shouldn't have-"
"Magnus! It's not about what happened, it's about you, seeing you like that.. it reminded me of when you lost your magic and it concerns me. If there's something bothering you, please talk to me. I'm not forcing you to, but please, know that I'm here for you, I'm here to listen, whenever you want."
Magnus looked at him teary-eyed. 'I don't think I can Alexander. With what I was going to do, breaking our marriage, the thought coming to my mind, again and again, I don't think I can ever tell you about it and it's better that I keep it to myself.' he thought to himself, then nodded at him.
"I know Alexander, but I'm fine. Please, don't worry about me. I.. I know those nightmares are getting the best of me, but I'm trying not to get affected by them and-"
"And failing! Right?"
Magnus sighed and looked away.
"Hey, look at me!" Alec said softly.
Magnus looked at him, tears pooling on the edge of his eyes. Alec squeezed his hand gently.
"Magnus, I know what happened had scared you, it left bitter memories for me as well but know that I'm not planning on leaving you anytime soon. I'm here with you and I'm going to be. I love you, Magnus."
"I love you too, Alexander. And thank you, I know you're saying it to comfort me and well, it worked a little but I know I need to be prepared, my husband is a Shadowhunter and I'm immortal. It's never going to.." he trailed off.
Alec squeezed his hands gently and rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand. 'That's where you're wrong, Mags. I can see the pain in your eyes right now, just a few more days then we can be together forever.' he thought to himself.
"Then let's make the most of it instead of fighting or.." he cleared his throat. Magnus understood what he meant.
"I agree, and I'm trying. It's just.."
"You don't need to stress on it, Magnus. Just remember that I'm there for you."
Magnus sighed, then nodded. "Alexander?"
"Yeah!"
"I.. I don't feel like working today, can.. can't you take your day off and we can spend the day together!" Magnus looked at him pleadingly.
Alec was about to respond when his phone buzzed. He quickly checked it.
• Found the spell. But it's complicated. Are you sure about it, Alec?
-Cat •
• With Magnus. Will be at your apartment at 4.
-Alec •
"Alexander!? What is it?"
Alec sighed. He was happy about the fact that they finally found the complete spell but he couldn't show it when Magnus was sitting right in front of him.
"Work!" He said trying to sound disappointed.
"Oh!" Magnus said flatly. The look of disappointment clearly visible in his eyes.
"Mags, you know I would love to spend the day with you but this can't be avoided, it's important."
"I understand, go do your work." He said in a sad tone.
"Hey, I'm sorry but I'll try to come home early."
Magnus just nodded at him.
"Let's finish our lunch then, I still have some free time left." He said trying to lighten the mood.
They finished their food, paid the bill, and left the restaurant. They walked their way towards the Institute. When they finally reached there, Magnus created a portal to head back home.
"Hey, Mags!"
"Yeah!"
Alec walked towards him and kissed him passionately. "No drinking behind my back, if I see you like that ever again, I swear it won't be good for you!"
Magnus gulped. "Noted! Now go do work, I'll wait for you at home."
With that Magnus left for home and Alec went to the institute, waiting for the time to pass sooner so he can reach Catarina's apartment and know the findings.
_________________________________
Catarina was standing next to her coffee table, the book kept open on the table waiting for Alec to come when the doorbell ranged. She waved her hands and opened the door with her magic.
Alec walked in and went towards the coffee table where Catarina was standing.
"Hey Cat!" He gave her a side hug.
"Hey! What's with you? You don't look good."
"It's not me, it's Magnus! He's.. " he trailed off, then looked at her.
She looked at him wide-eyed. "Magnus? Now, what is it?"
Alec sighed then told her about everything that happened since last night till their lunch date of the present day.
"He's not doing well and I can clearly see it, I just want the days to pass by sooner so I can tell him everything and see happiness in those eyes again."
"I can't believe this! He's not even telling me anything. Once everything will be out in the open, I'm gonna kick Bane's ass badly and you're not stopping me from doing it!" She said in a warning tone.
Alec laughed slightly at her remark. "I won't, don't worry, instead I'll enjoy it, he deserves that much! So, what did you find?"
Catarina looked at him then sighed and shook her head. "Look for yourself."
She waved her hands towards the open book kept on the table. Alec turned the book towards him then started reading.
The spell that turned Kasper into a literal angel is known as an immortality spell; the rarest spell ever known but it's not easy to find that spell as it's provided by an angel her/himself.
"You're kidding me! Right!? There has to be a way to find that spell!" Alec said in an irritated voice.
Catarina looked at him with disbelief. "You're really stubborn Alec Lightwood Bane! Well, no and yes both. As I've already told you, it's really complicated."
She turned a few pages of the book searching for something when she finally found it, she turned the book towards Alec. "Read for yourself!"
Alec gave her a confusing look then started reading.
*The means to get immortality spell-
To obtain the immortality spell the person needs to go under a procedure.
"A procedure?" Alec asked, confused.
"Alec! First, read it completely, then ask your questions!" She said with an annoyed voice.
"Okay! Okay! Sorry."
First, they need to find someone who has a direct connection to an angel meaning a person who has pure angel blood running in their veins. Once they find the person they have to tell them about their wish to become an angel/immortal, and request them to communicate with the angel and let the angel know his/her intentions for becoming immortal. Once the angel is convinced that the person is pure and can handle being an immortal, the angel will provide the immortality spell to the person who has their blood running in their veins.
Once this procedure is completed go to the extract where the next procedure is mentioned.
"Where is the further procedure?" Alec said, turning the pages.
"Woah! Hey, slow down! How are you going to find a person who has pu-"
"Clary!" He said in a rushed tone.
"What!? Clarissa Fairchild? She has-"
"Yes, of Angel Ithuriel's!"
[A/N: for this story pretend that angel Ithuriel never died, instead, he just got hurt badly but healed afterward.]
Catarina sighed and looked at him with utter disbelief.
"Cat! Please help me with this!" Alec waved his hand towards the book.
She waved her fingers and opened the page where the next procedure was written. "Go ahead!"
Alec looked at the book where the next procedure was written.
Once the immortality spell is provided by the angel, the angel will provide another spell which will be needed to be performed on his blood, meaning the blood of the person who has his blood in their veins.
The person having the angel blood has to pour their blood in a pure copper glass, then the spell provided by the angel has to be performed on it and it should be kept under the moonlight until it turns golden white.
The person who wishes to turn immortal has to drink this blood at an early stage of dawn and has to be in-between nature. The immortality spell has to be performed simultaneously when the person is drinking the blood, and an immortality rune is engraved right above the heart of the person. The warlock performing the spell has to be trustworthy to the person, powerful, and of the opposite gender to the person becoming immortal.
Once the person becomes immortal there are few precautions which have to be taken.
>After performing the spell, the person has to stay away from everyone; at least for a day and be around nature until their powers are completely awakened.
> The person can't get physical/intimate with anyone till the full moon; especially with a downworlder.
Alec sighed with relief, a wide smile on his face but also of slight disappointment. "So, I can't get intimate with Magnus! Really!"
Cat shot a look at him. "Is that all you're concerned about? Really Alec!? Can you do everything that's mentioned here? Plus-"
"Cat! I already told you I want this, not just for Magnus but for myself as well; and I don't find any obstacle with the procedure. It's Clary who can help me with this, I know I have to drink her blood, but that's fine, I'll do it. And the warlock is standing right in front of me! Please Cat!" He looked at her pleadingly.
Cat sighed. She was so awestruck by the man's determination standing in front of her.
"Fine! But we need to leave for New York then if you wish to do it."
Alec nodded. "I'll inform Izzy then and.. " he trailed off, something dawned over him, changing his expressions completely.
"Now what happened?"
Alec looked at her. "Magnus! We will both be gone for a few days. If something.. " he closed his eyes. The thought of leaving Magnus in the condition he is right now scaring him to his core.
Catarina understood what he meant. "Alec! He'll be fine, don't worry. When we have everything we need for the spell I don't think it's gonna be more than two days. He's Magnus, he'll be fine."
Alec looked at her with slight relief and nodded. "Then let's head to New York tomorrow morning itself!"
#asaab#angst with a happy ending#angst#fanfic authors#alec lightwood#wattpad writer#wattpad#fanfiction#fanfic#lightwood bane family#malec forever#malec fic#fantasy#happily married#magnus bane#malec
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In the Darkest Days
(read on ao3)
Summary: TK's having a bad mental health day... It's a good thing he has his dad and Carlos to look out for him.
CW: Depression and depressive thoughts.
From the moment TK wakes up, he can tell it will be one of those days. He can feel the weight of the day pushing down on every inch of his body and just the thought of leaving the security of his bed is enough to make him wish he could just fade away to avoid all of his responsibilities. Yes, the dark cloud is hanging over Tyler Kennedy Strand’s head, and it isn't going away anytime soon.
But fading away isn't an option for him today. He can hear his dad downstairs making breakfast. They both have a shift in an hour. Taking note of the current time, he knows he needs to get up so he forces his body through the motions of getting out of bed and decides to take a shower. He’s not normally a morning showers person, usually opting for quick showers when he’s on shift and a longer one when he gets home at night. However, he thinks that maybe the steaming water will wake him up enough for his body, and his brain, to take the hint that shutting down is not an option.
Getting in the shower, he turns the water temperature all the way up so that the water is nearly burning his skin. He knows he should take the time to wash up, but it’s as if his mind and body are not connected. Instead, he just stands there, letting the water droplets roll off of his body and down the drain. After minutes of doing nothing except waste hot water he finally is able to convince his body to turn off the shower and grab a fresh towel.
By the time he gets himself dressed and downstairs he’s already mentally and physically exhausted. It’s also nearly time for them to leave for the station. He feels bad that he’s holding his dad up, yet his thoughts are too clouded for him to dwell on it too much. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he is greeted by his dad’s always enthusiastic demeanor.
“Morning,” Owen says to him. “How do you want your eggs today?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Owen looks up at him, taking in his son's disheveled appearance. He must really look bad because he watches his dad’s face soften as he sighs. “Why don’t you take the shift off and go back to bed?”
He’s aware that his dad is always able to notice the signs that he is having a particularly bad day. The fact that he picked up on it right away though doesn’t make it any better.
“It’s fine, I’ll be fine.” He lies, knowing he won’t be. But that doesn’t mean he needs to take special treatment just because his dad also happens to be his captain. Everyone has bad days, he tells himself. They power through it and so can he.
Except his bad days are more than just bad days. A fact that he and his dad are both aware of.
Owen just shakes his head, not taking “no” for an answer. “TK, please. Just go back to bed. I can bring a floater in for your shift and I will tell the rest of the team you are taking a sick day. Please. You won’t be able to help anyone in this mental state.”
TK knows his team would understand; however, he isn’t sure he is ready to disclose to his team that his mental health is bad enough to warrant a day off. He appreciates that his dad understands that without him having to explain it.
“Okay,” he resigns without arguing about it anymore. Arguing takes energy. Energy that he does not have today.
Owen walks over and places a kiss on his forehead. “You’ll call me if you need me, right?”
TK nods, giving his dad a small smile.
“Good,” Owen says, returning the smile and grabbing his keys before exiting their house.
Trodding back into his bedroom, TK takes out his phone to plug it in and sees that he has a missed text from Carlos.
Carlos: Are we still on for dinner tonight?
Sighing, as much he would love to see Carlos, TK knows there’s no way he’d be up for doing anything besides laying in his bed for the rest of the day.
TK: can’t tonight. sorry.
Shutting off his phone and placing it back on the nightstand, TK climbs back into his comfortable bed, ready to let his body shut down for the day.
~~~
Carlos frowns looking down at his phone. Canceling their dates on the day of wasn’t entirely unusual considering both of their hectic work lives. However, TK would normally offer up an explanation for why he had to cancel at the last minute, or at least more than the three words Carlos received today.
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he devotes his attention back to the paperwork piling up on his desk. He did his best to stay on top of it but this week had been especially busy at work. All the more reason he was looking forward to seeing TK tonight.
Carlos doesn’t get more than a few lines done before he feels his phone buzzing again. He expects to see TK’s name on the caller ID but instead it reads “Captain Strand.” They had exchanged numbers not long after his relationship with TK became official, but this is the first time Owen has called him. He isn’t even sure how to answer the phone. No matter how many times the other man tells him to just call him “Owen,” Carlos still feels like he owes the man some respect and continues to strictly refer to him as “Captain Strand.”
Deciding to avoid the matter altogether, he answers with a simple “hello?”
“Hi Carlos, it’s Owen. I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”
“Hello sir. Yes of course. What can I do for you?”
“Would you be able to stop by our house and check on TK for me?”
“Sure, I don’t mind. Is everything okay? He did cancel our date for tonight…” Carlos trails off. He wonders what could possibly be going on with TK that he wouldn’t want to see him tonight. And why was Owen worried enough to send him to the rescue?.
“He’s just not feeling well but I bet a visit from you could help. I left a key under the doormat if you want to stop by sometime this afternoon.”
Owen’s response provides more questions than answers as far Carlos is concerned. He decides it’s better not to press the issue anymore though. “Oh, okay.”
“Thank you so much Carlos, I really appreciate it and TK will too.”
The two men hang up, leaving Carlos slightly worried and wondering what on earth is going on with his boyfriend.
~~~
TK isn’t exactly sure how much time has passed since his conversation this morning with his dad. The way the light has shifted in his room indicates that it’s been hours. Yet in his mind it feels like minutes. Or maybe it feels like days. He has no idea, really.
He hasn’t stopped staring up, lost in the trance of watching his ceiling fan spin around. He's tried to sleep but the thoughts in his head are too loud and he cannot find a way to shut them off. Instead, he is choosing to let them run around in his head and let him sink further into his depressive state.
His trance is broken by the sound of the front door opening and closing. TK didn’t think that much time had passed that his dad was home already. Maybe he came home early to check on him, he thinks to himself.
“TK?” the guest calls. The guest who clearly is not his dad as he thought.
Carlos, he realizes.
But TK thought he canceled their date. He should probably go down and see him. Ask why he came. But he can’t seem to move out the cocoon he made for himself in his bed.
Much to his relief, the other man opts for coming right up and softly knocks on the bedroom door before entering his room.
Carlos doesn’t say anything. Instead he walks over and perches himself on the bed, next to TK. He then starts to run his hands through TK’s hair. It feels amazing. He didn’t realize just much he craved someone to be here with him.
“I’m sorry,” TK mumbles into his pillow.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“I don’t know,” TK pauses before shifting so that he’s looking at Carlos. He knows his eyes are puffy from the on and off crying all day. If Carlos notices though, he doesn’t show any sign of it. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” TK adds.
“Oh, baby…” Carlos replies.
Before TK can say anything else, Carlos stands up and moves to the other side of the bed, climbing in next to TK. Wrapping his arms around him to spoon him, TK immediately feels comforted by the other man’s presence. Melting into Carlos’ arms, relief floods over him and he can’t stop the tears from rolling down his face. Carlos only holds him tighter, allowing him to let go of all of his bottled emotions.
TK knows this certainly won’t be the last of his bad days. However, knowing he has someone who cares about him this much, through the highs and lows, is enough reassurance to know that he will be okay.
#911 lone star#tarlos#tk strand#carlos reyes#i love how this came out#please let me know what you think!!#mycontent#my fic
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if you feel like doing one id LOVE a ship! your writing is so beautiful🥺 im 5’4 w/ platinum blonde hair & hazel eyes. i’m a night owl & an early riser & i love the moon & sun a lot. i’m pretty quiet at first but once i’m comfortable it’s actually the opposite😂 i’m very intuitive & can sniff out bad people right away. i love being outside! if the sun is out so am i! if it’s not tho you can find me doodling or deep cleaning my house while blasting music😂 i hope this is enough! 🖤 thanks!!
Joe Liebgott
- general -
SIS I DON’T TAKE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM ON THIS OKAY
IF YOU LIKE THE SUN & THE MOON YOU AUTOMATICALLY HAVE TO LIKE OPPOSITES ATTRACT (IT’S ILLEGAL NOT TO I’M SORRY)
Joe isn’t really a night-owl but he’ll stay up super late with you for no reason
he’s not exactly a morning person either; so, to summarize this thought, Joe really likes sleep
you’re an early riser, so expect lots of angry mumbling from Joe when you get up in the morning
he’s usually upset because the bed gets colder
also because he doesn’t have anyone to cuddle when you get up... so he’s gonna turn into a cocoon of covers until he feels like getting up
you’re an early riser who the fuck is an early riser who wakes up early why would you do that to yourself i will sleep 14 hours straight if i went to bed at like 6 am
you and Joe probably didn’t like each other at first
however, it’s not because you intuitively realized he was a bad person
no, it’s because Joe is just so suspicious + he’s literally always friggin angry, which automatically made you not want to be around him
now that you actually know him better, you realize that he’s aggressive to protect his own feelings so that no one will get to him
Joe is very grateful that you’re patient with him
he also loves that you take just as much time to open up to him as he takes to open up to you, it makes the relationship progression smoother
Joe likes the outdoors, he loves the way the wind feels
if you want to go outside, he’ll most likely go with you
Joe blasts ALL his music, so he doesn’t mind that you love to do the same
if a slow song comes on, you better dance with him
if you give Joe one of your doodles, he’ll cherish it forever
he has a ton of them clipped on to his sun visor in his taxi, along with a photo of the two of you
- how you two met -
you and Joe met at Camp Toccoa... and probably in one of the worst ways possible
it’s no secret that Joe’s a bit of a hothead
I mean, the man gets ticked off by literally the smallest things
you weren’t expecting everyone at Toccoa to be incredibly welcoming, especially considering that you were the only female joining the paratroopers
unlike some of the men, Joe wasn’t sexist to you, he just gave you weird vibes
and weird vibes in your book automatically puts someone down on the “people I don’t really like that scare me” list
it wasn’t that he was a bad person or anything, you two just had very different personalities and hung out with very different people
for instance, Joe tended to spend most of his time with Chuck Grant, Floyd Talbert, Joe Toye, Skinny Sisk, and George Luz, who are all incredibly loud and outgoing people
you also hung out with like-minded people, but since you were more timid you tended to spend most of your time around people like Eugene Roe
you and Eugene got along great, you two eventually became best friends
you generally forgot about Joseph D. Liebgott most of the time, and he did the same to you
Until one morning at least
you, being the every early riser, had gotten up at the brink of dawn... you didn’t do it on purpose, it was just the way you were wired
you decided to go help some of the men cook breakfast for all of the soldiers (you’re too pure ugh i love it)
after the majority of the cooking was done, they shooed you out of the kitchen, insisting they could get the rest done at that you had already done enough
you had argued with them until they had finally given you a pot of scrambled eggs, which you then began giving out to the soldiers
you weaved in between the long wooden tables, stopping at one you had yet to serve
“Took you long enough! My plates gettin’ cold over here!” Tab joked, getting an elbow in the side from Liebgott for his comment.
“Just let the lady do her job in peace, Tab.” Joe remarked.
Cobb seemed to perk up next to Joe, shoving his plate in front of your face
“Finally! A woman that knows her place! Hurry up girl, I’m dyin’ over here!”
Cobb head was pinned against the table. Joe stood behind him, twisting Cobb’s arm in a painful grip
the man was practically seething
“Don’t you ever talk to a lady like that again. Ever. Do you hear me?” Joe pushed his head further into the wood as he said each word, a groan erupting from Cobb as he mumbled a small “yes”
Joe released Cobb’s head, knocking it against the table again for good measure
he then picked up his own plate, offering it to you
“May I please have some eggs, ma’am?”
Thanks so much for submitting a request! I’m so glad you like my ships 💕 I’m so sorry this took literally forever, but thank you for being patient. You seem so sweet and amazing i’m 🥺🥺🥺 I hope you enjoy this, have a great week!
~ Ky
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