Dark curtains were pulled over the tiny apartment window, slightly muffling the tapping of the rain as it pelted the window, droplets racing down to the sill where it pooled over. A small lamp in her bedroom provided a dim light as a neighbor’s tv casually droned on just beyond the thin wall. Occasionally, she’d hear the couple arguing before something thumped loudly and a door was slammed. She had grown used to the sounds of her temporary home, settling down at the small desk and powering up her laptop to search for her next job. Her rapid typing quickly drowned out all the sounds within the room with a rhythmic clack-clack-clack-clack.
Earlier, she had heard shuffling outside her door but when she went to investigate, peering out the peephole, she saw nothing and was unaware of the object that had been attached to the knob. She was aware a woman in her apartment had gone missing the other night but it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. From what she’d been told the girl was past due on rent and had likely fled to avoid being evicted. Pushing the thought from her mind, she focused on her task at hand, searching for her next client. Her back was to her bedroom door when the hair on her arms and back of her neck suddenly stood up.
Fight or flight instinct was beginning to kick in. Glancing at the clock on her computer she saw it was about two in the morning with most of the apartment’s tenants being dead asleep. Her mind raced back to the missing girl and she wondered if perhaps she hadn’t just run off. One hand remained on the mouse while the other slowly slipped to her lap, going to reach under the desk where a knife was securely concealed as she listened quietly for any movements from her room or the hallway. The door had been left cracked enough for the dim light and her computer’s blue light to poor out in the dark hall, indicating that she was home.
⚔️ Smoke and Mirrors - Closed Starter for @dcllmaking ⚔️
Kindness. It was something that the hitman was not accustomed to receiving, and even less accustomed to accepting. Too often it had strings attached. It warranted some sort of reciprocation. True kindness became something too good to be true in his eyes. Even Ernst’s.
His last hit had taken him home for the job, and where one might have rejoiced at the idea of returning to sandy beaches and beautiful sunsets and the salty ocean breeze tickling one’s face, Lucas felt little more than sickening dread and a hollow feeling that made his chest cave in, his heartbeat a dull echo that rattled his bones and left his mind unable to focus on the job. It had gone wrong. Terribly wrong. A botched execution was being generous. The target was dead, sure, but the scene left behind was a mess. It took him forever to clean it up and he almost hadn’t made it before the police arrived. The worst part was definitely returning to the place he was staying while the job got done. The whole flight back to the states, all he could think about were the cacophony of haunting insults and jabs at him that had been replaying in an endless loop the whole time in his head, a broken record that left him feeling hopeless. Worthless. The emotional wounds bled just as heavily as his physical ones did.
The song and dance they went through when he got back was no different than usual. Ernst chided him for marinating his wounds with salt and vinegar, tutted him for not taking care of himself properly and took him aside to care for them himself. There wasn’t too much of a fuss until the end. Something Ernst had said just evoked a raw waterfall of emotion from the smaller man, prompting him to draw his injured arm away and simply explode in frustration. It was an innocent, loving word. Something gentle and doting. And yet it set Lucas off off in an inexplicable way and made him storm off. He didn’t even know why he was so upset. He didn’t know why he was angry, or why his chest suddenly throbbed with every heartbeat, or why his throat felt so raw despite saying so little. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he knew Ernst didn’t deserve the brunt of his upset like that. And he spent hours questioning why said the things he did, why did the things he did. Why he was the way he was.
Why Ernst put up with him at all.
Hours later, when he’d finally cooled down enough to rub the lingering traces of dried tears from around his eyes and the regret had set in, he made his way to the door and peered out, listening around for him. He didn’t hear him in the immediate vicinity. Stepping out with his half-fixed arm still clutched close to his chest, he looked around for Ernst. He didn’t dare call out for him, afraid of how his voice might come out. Hell, his throat ached so much he wasn’t sure he’d even have a voice to call out with. His nose wrinkled a bit as he caught a scent that was familiar to him. Too familiar. If not from the whiffs he caught of it on the street so often, than due to his own intimate familiarity with the stench. Cigarette smoke. He hesitated, the one gear he did have in his head turning in thought before he decided to try and follow the scent to its source.
“i want you to forget everything and everyone else but me.” ( we know who it's about )
⚔️ USFW Prompts | ACCEPTING ⚔️
Even under the best of circumstances, Lucas had a hard time concentrating on things when his sex drive got in the way. Deliberate acts of provocation to exacerbate it- because somehow that was possible- only made his cloudy judgement harder to through all of the fog. And though he was the type to show a great deal of willpower over a lot of his urges, his desire for intimate pleasures was definitely not one of them. It barely took more than an arm around the waist and the mere implication of a few well-placed touches to reduce him to putty in his partner’s hands. Of course, teasing without any real satisfaction just meant frustration, and he didn’t do well with frustration. Which is precisely why he made the move to sit himself in his partner’s lap, huffing and vying for attention with flustered kisses and grabs at his clothing. They broke even at least; just because he was a little mad didn’t make him any less of a good kisser, and having taken the bait as expected, Lucas was pleased to find that there was a little reward in it for him after all.
It didn’t take much to have him shimmying out of the oversized sweater on his back and the baggy sweatpants he tended to lounge about the house in. A few light brushes of a finger up his spine sent a wave of shivers and goosebumps following it in its wake. A couple of kisses along the jaw and a hand on his waist was enough to make him whimper and turn his ears pink. A series of bite marks and hickeys across his collarbone had him slumped against the Dollmaker in no time, pulling at his button-up and fiddling to get it off his shoulders so the hitman could return the favor. Unlike him, Ernst didn’t make all that much noise, but he still appreciated hearing the way his breath hitched when his mouth found just the right places against his skin, the way his pulse fluttered beneath his tongue when he went for his neck. It always prompted little chuckles and fond looks when Lucas came back up looking for more hungry kisses. The hand at his scalp lightly scratching made his nose crinkle, always threatening a giggle that ended up turning into a moan when it suddenly slid down his back to grab his ass. And just like that, the tables had turned.
Lucas leaned his head back, savoring the tentative feeling of Ernst’s thumb rolling over his lower lip, fingers cupping his cheek rolled down over the sharp curve of his jawline and splayed themselves across the many ink patterns of his neck. Delicately, the wrapper around it, drawing Lucas’ eyes to flutter open just enough to peer at him through his lashes. Not in alarm, thankfully. A brief moment of focus, tunnel vision honed in on Ernst’s face. If he wasn’t already planted firmly in the man’s lap, Lucas was certain the words would have brought him to his knees in an instant. Hell, they still might, he thought with a little grin. “Already done.” He purred. Any sense of the world beyond the two of them existing had gone out the window the second he’d started being kissed and caressed. And to his amusement the hand continued south, finding a grip on his collarbone as Ernst shifted beneath him. And just like that, he was kneeling on the floor in front of him between his knees, almost saddened by the warm hand leaving his chest but somehow finding more enjoyment in the way it gripped firmly at his chin to hold eye contact with him. Ernie didn’t say anything more- not that he needed to. The assassin was already working his hands up the doctor’s thighs in anticipation. He tilted his head down to offer the other’s palm a kiss while idly working on the button and zipper of his pants.
Nothing else existed beyond Ernst right now. Not his friends, not his job, not the entire world- nor would it exist for a couple of hours as his focus continued to revolve entirely around him and his partner being intimately intertwined on a nice Sunday afternoon.
send me ‘ 🧸 ‘ for your muse to give mine a stuffed toy
The sound of familiar footsteps approaching roused Lucas’ concentration from where it had been solidly fixated on one of the pages in his latest read. Sprawled out upon the couch, head resting against the arm of it, he lowered the covers past his nose and made room for his partner to sit. Quickly it was abandoned however, as he noticed something clasped in the other man’s hand. He sat up, bookmarking his place and tilting his head curiously once he spied the mysterious object. Before he could inquire as to what it was, he found himself being proferred the little thing. Careful fingers gathered the adorable little stuffed toy up in their grasp, turning it over and examining it. A little stuffed lamb.
The warm smile that graced his features as he pulled it close to his chest was enough to melt ice certainly. “It’s lovely, kiwi,” he looked at it again, examining the stitching on it. Frayed strings still held together bits of cleanly cut fabric like clouds against his fingertips. The fleece smelled vaguely of Ernst- probably from being tucked in his pocket for a good while. It was a comforting scent to him, something vintage and familiar and homely in a way he adored. “Did you make it yourself?” He traced over the toy’s head, admiring how it’s button eyes gleamed in the light before laying back down with it resting on its chest.
“I like it. I’ll make sure I take it with me on every trip I go on. Thank you.” He grinned. There was a sincerity to his words too. He meant it- every time he had to go anywhere, he’d make sure his lucky lamb was tucked safely and snugly in his suitcase, then in his pocket when it came to foot travel. Something to keep Ernst close when he was so so far. A familiar feeling, and a familiar scent of home lingered on the little lamb, which he charmingly decided to name Ice Cream. He’d never be able to replace the warmth of his partner’s body, nor the melodic sound of his thickly accented voice, but he was a comfort that Lucas could appreciate all the same. A small way to keep his partner close when he didn’t have him but needed him most.
" What are you doing in here, buddy? " Sarcasm dribbled off Tanner's tongue as he squinted into the depths of a dark alleyway, fixing the figure within with a sharp gaze.
A shadow moved, only barely distinguishable from the rest, and two pale eyes peeked at Tanner, looking him up and down. "Does it matter?" Ace asked, only mildly cheerful. He wasn’t having a very good night, unfortunately, and he doubted this stranger would make it better. Not with that attitude.
It was difficult to steady his breathing from the ceaseless hiccuping, the unsteady inhales and quivering exhales that rattled his chest. Fingers clung to the fibers of a wooly sweater and a face buried itself into fabric that soaked up salty tears. His warm breath bled through the article, tickling skin beneath that shivered in a meek attempt to regain some sort of control of its own emotions. The tiny bundle that Lucas had turned himself into in Ernst’s arms found itself scarcely being calmed by the gentle rocking motions the older man performed alone. It was that familiarly accented voice that finally began to whittle down the number of tears. Whitened knuckles regain their colors as his grip slackened, gentle lips finding a perch at the apex of his scalp.
It was hard to focus on anything but the noise in his head. An endless cacophony of static and screaming, old visions like an ancient movie reel playing over and over again on dusty wheels that spun out of control in a feeble bastardization of conherent thoughts. The feeling of his throat closing up, a great hand around it. Pressing. Compressing. Lifting him up and slamming him back down into the cold cold snow, feeling the frostbite devouring his arms and leaving his fingers purple as he choked on his own words. Then Ernst’s voice cut through it all. Like a bullet in the darkness, or a knife through flimsy flesh stretched thin. The sea of noises, of sensations suddenly parted, and when the walls of water finally splashed back together, the waters grew calmer. He was still crying, but he was at least consciously aware of the fact that there was no hand. There was no one choking the life from him. No one strangling him and listening to his pitiful, silent cries for mercy as he face contorted and his lips turned blue. There was only Ernst. Only warmth and the comfort of his arms draped around the peach. A safety net from which no one could rip him out of.
Reluctantly, he nodded into the man’s chest, ears perking at the words. He sniffled, rubbing at his eyes and resting his head against the man’s shoulder in a small attempt at uncurling himself. No good. He couldn’t work up the will to release himself from the tiny ball of anxiety and depressive thoughts he’d become. Instead, he laid still, allowing himself to be rocked and letting his eyes slip shut as familiar words brought warm thoughts to his mind. Memories of them sitting together watch movies, falling asleep against his shoulder. The thoughts of the first time they held hands over dinner. The way they curled up together surrounded by his hounds at night. Car and bike rides across town on grocery runs or on simple rides through the overrun countrysides. The corners of his mouth twitched, relishing in the bubbling warmth the sounds of comforting German and gentle fingers running over his head brought him. A lulling feeling of comfort that he cling to as though it were a lifeline. Because for him, it was.
“you’d better get back to bed.” ( one disapproving ernie for you )
⚔️ Homecoming Prompts | CLOSED ⚔️
“Or else what?”
The Pole gave a small smirk, half-challenging the older man to make good on his words. His condition wasn’t too serious. A couple stitches on the arm and a bit of bruising around the area, just beginning to turn yellow in their healing. A bit of bed rest would see them out and over with in no time, but... Lucas wasn’t the type to take bed rest all that well. It had barely been a day or two and he was already stir-crazy, looking for physical distractions, things that didn’t require him to sit sedintary all day. Having a doctor for a partner made that a bit difficult though, and so he made it a habit to listen in on Ernst as he went about his day and try to sneak out while he was busied with his own work. The occasional miscalculation was inevitable though. That was how he ended up in situations like these- a thrown-together sandwich stuffed in his mouth, cheeks puffed out, eyes narrowed, calf muscles tight and ready to spring.
“Why don’t you make me, Ernie?” Lucas swallowed down the hunk of bread, deli meat, and cheese in his mouth and set his good hand on his hip. If anything, he was certainly feeling much better it seemed. Fearlessly risking busting his stitches over a sandwich. Looking for a good chase around the house while the taller man tried to catch him and put him back in his prison under the blankets. That was just the kind of exercise he could go for right about now. And besides, the both of them were so busy with work, Lucas figured a bit of play time away from the dolls would be for the grouchy old coot’s health.
“I’ll tell you what,” he set down his mini-meal, cobbled together sloppily and with half the ingredient and condiments hanging out of where they should have been tucked snugly between two bread slices, approaching slowly and with an air of stupidly bold confidence. He stepped past his partner, patting him on the shoulder. “If you can catch me, I’ll go back to bed. Ready, set, go—“ he didn’t wait for a response. The second the last syllable was out he was already taking off down the hall and making his way out of sight. He either find a hiding place to keep himself until Ernst entered the room and he could sneak out while his back was turned, or he’d find another route to keep running. Either way, the result would be much the same as it always whenever Lucas did... anything really.
He’d agree, but not without terms of his own and a bit of fight to go with em’.
