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lahooozaherr · 10 months

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I Will Always Find You

Chapter 4

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: angst, fluff, yearning, pining, shooting a blaster with Mando (aaaaaay) vague description of dress on reader (listen, I said it was “traditional Naboo” dress but I don’t know if such thing exists I just love that dress Padme wears by the lake lol but I’m leaving it as vague as I can incase y’all want to imagine something else, I only describe having an open back) (wanted to give Mando some skin, ok), reader runs hand through hair and has strand brushed away but no actual description of hair, Din tries to not have sexy thoughts lol

MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI. AGELESS/BLANK ACCOUNTS WILL BE BLOCKED.

My tag list (instructions & requirements)

Summary: You and the Mandalorian spend part of your “hooky” day relaxing in a place special to you. Later, he helps you get ready for the festival. Both of you are full of conflicting emotions as realizations surface and the end of the week looms.

A/N: Welp, this is getting done later than I intended. I recently visited my grandpa who is in the dying process. I had a good weekend with him and my family and tbh I thought I would be writing/reading in my spare time then but it didn’t end up happening, but that’s ok! I was able to come up with more things I wanted to add to it before so I hope everyone enjoys it. I promise we’re getting close to the smut lol I just have story building I gotta do. Also, I realized I already messed up the timeline I was trying to work with so look forward to me fixing that when it becomes more relevant. And by timeline I mean, it def takes more than a week between this and the flashback opening of the first chapter, so I’ll edit that. I’ve also been doing my best to leave reader and some other things as vague as I can but if that starts to sound weird pls tell me, I just want anyone reading to be able to see themselves in this. I also fixed the series master list banner since I kept have nagging feelings about the pictures I originally chose lol.

Song Inspo: Unfair by The Neighborhood

Inspo Playlist

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Read it on AO3

Din only really has himself to blame for getting himself in this position, he tells himself.

He was almost immediately mesmerized by you, and he let his heart and not his mind take the reins. That was mistake number one.

He went from experiencing loss, trying (and failing) to cope with that grief, to here. With you. He knows he has to face his feelings, because meeting you has flipped his inner world upside down.

Every night he leaves you, images of you replay at the forefront of his mind’s eye. At first he’d brushed it off, chalking this up to some playful banter with a bored princess. But then he entertained it, learned more about you, watched you, and found himself enchanted by you.

Somehow you had made your way through the cracks of his armor. Not exactly his Beskar, but the one he built around his heart.

He hasn’t slept much tonight, opting to use this time to reflect and at least try to gather himself. He can no longer ignore what you do to him. How the sound of your voice has become music to his ears. How your touch sends electricity throughout his body from your delicate squeezes in the spaces of his arm that are not covered in Beskar. The way your eyes almost always find his own, despite the helm covering.

When he saw you help that lost child, when you opened up to him about your own mourning and conflicted emotions about your position, he almost snapped. Something possessive, or maybe more so protective, wanted to wrap himself around you. Prevent you from having to do this anymore. He could tell you didn’t want this. Maybe you wouldn’t say it, and he couldn’t out loud, but he could feel it.

He doesn’t know what to do with his own life and hasn’t for a really long time. Now, he’s coming to terms with his feelings, and desire, for you.

But the life he leads isn’t a life for you. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself. This life is dangerous…..and lonely. He knows he couldn’t ask you to become his just as much as you can’t, or won’t, abandon your position. It’s easier to accept that answer over the latter.

He’s let this go too far, but he can’t help it. You bring something out in him that he tried to forget he had. It’s like he simultaneously knows he can’t make you his, and that’s he’s too scared to. Which is saying a lot; a Mandalorian afraid? But not just over anything. Over experiencing that kind of love and then losing it. He can’t go through that, on top of the rest, it’s too much.

Yet Din ignores his instincts and indulges in you. He wishes your affectionate glances were reserved for only him, and no one else.

Catching you yesterday was almost the final straw, taking every fiber of his being to not rip away the garment bag that separated your bodies. His helmet picked up on the wild thrum of your heartbeat; and maybe he wasn’t certain how you felt but it had to mean something, right? Even if neither of you can say it.

For now, he will force himself to settle for what he has with you until this job is done.

—————————————————————————

“Mando?”

Din is wrenched out of his head, coming back to himself. Both of you are on a small boat steered by a droid, him across from you. He must have been lost in his thoughts on the short sail to the area you spoke of.

You wave a hand across his helmet’s eye-line, “hey, are you in there?”

He cocks his helmet, turning back to you, “where else would I be?”

You let out an amused huff but your eyes search his helmet, concerned but observing. Returning your hand back to your lap, “is something wrong?”

“No, Cyare.”

Your face heats up, looking away quickly thinking he wouldn’t notice. It brings him instant satisfaction, the way he flusters you sometimes. The boat comes to a stop as you stand to gather the basket you brought with you.

“One of these days, I’m going to find out what those names mean.”

Din carefully stands in the boat, stepping over the side to the dock as it approaches, “you can sure try.”

Although, the thought of you finding out has Din’s face heated, another moment to be thankful for the helmet.

He steps up onto the dock, connected to the other side of the lake you departed from. An expansive field full of greenery and flowers, surrounded by a forest in the short distance. It was tranquil and private, just like you had described to him.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” You remark, maneuvering your way out of the boat until his hand drops in front of you, offering help. You stop first, looking up to him to smile before taking it. His strong arm helps lift you out of the boat, effortlessly.

“I would come here to just be alone,” you continued on as you adjusted the basket and yourself. You decided on wearing a simple set of a tunic and leggings for this portion of the day, saying you’ll change later. The combination hugged your body’s curves in a way the dresses didn’t and Din certainly didn’t mind.

He mentally scolds himself for wandering towards such thoughts.

He follows you as you trek through the field, heading deeper towards trees that provide shade. Picking a spot, you drop the basket and plop down next to it. Sighing and stretching your legs before settling to lean against a tree, you close your eyes and inhale. Din lowers into the spot next to you, facing the view.

Several quiet moments pass before you speak up again, “my mother found this place.” This caused Din to look at you, waiting for you to say more. You look into the sky, tightening your lips, not quite smiling and not frowning either.

“It means a lot to you,” Din states. At this point he could tell how sentimental certain things were to you, he has very few things like that for himself.

“It’s special to me, there’s a lot of good memories here. Time spent with her, many books….the first place I learned how to shoot a blaster.”

Din snorts before he realizes he’s even done it, you smile, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You? You can shoot a blaster?” He teases, emphasizing the first ‘you’.

“Are you underestimating me, Mandalorian?” Batting your lashes at Din. He can hear his heartbeat in his helmet while trying to conjure an image of you, aiming a blaster in hand.

“No….” He trails off. Your eyes trained on him with a determined expression. “I just don’t expect a princess to know how to shoot.”

“Well Mando, it looks like there’s even more for you to discover about me.”

“Alright, prove it,” he shifts to stand. He offers his hand again and you take it, firmly. When you completely stand, you're closer than he had originally intended and he can feel the tense air between you. He brushes a thumb across your knuckles before letting go.

You give him a sly grin while motioning your hand towards him, “alright, hand it over.”

“Hold on, let’s find a better spot.”

The two of you don’t stray too far, walking into the small forest behind the tree you were previously leaned up against. Din stops and points to a different tree just a few feet away, “hit the middle of that one.”

Usually, Din wouldn’t be so keen as to just hand anyone his weapons. But, you weren’t just anyone, were you? He sets the blaster in your hand, switching off the safety.

“Thank you,” you mutter, situating the blaster in your dominant hand, with the other coming up to steady it.

Raising your shoulders, you assume your stance and level the blaster for aiming. He watches from behind, arms folded and observant. So far he could say you’re doing everything you’re supposed to and is already impressed, not that that shows.

Taking a deep breath through your mouth and out your nose, your supporting hand drops and your finger twitches on the trigger. In a split second, the blaster fire perfectly hits the middle of the tree. Lowering the blaster, you let out a “Hah!” You puff your chest with pride, looking back at Din for his reaction.

If Din didn't think he was in trouble before, he definitely is now. He hadn’t realized just how attracted he would be to a trait like that in YOU, and suddenly the armor is too hot for him.

He almost can’t bring himself to say anything in response, it feels like his heart jumped into his throat. A self-satisfied look on your face as you set your other hand on your hip, “you seem…speechless? Hard to tell.”

You were right, and that was saying a lot for Din, considering he’s not much with words to begin with. He quietly clears his throat and reaches to take the blaster from your outstretched arm, “Count me impressed.”

You beamed, but this time it’s shy as you try to look away from him as he takes the blaster. He’d tell you that was cute if that wasn’t so out-of-character for him.

“What made you take this up?” Din asks as you return to your spot on the grass.

“Father said ‘pick a form of self defense’ and that was my choice,” you mimic your father’s voice and shrug. “I just happened to hit it off with blasters, and now I prefer them.”

“But have you ever actually had to use one?”

“No. I guess, fortunately?”

A silence falls, you fidget with your hands as he settles next to you, once again.

“I know that part isn’t impressive,” you add, dejectedly.

“It’s not bad. I’m glad you haven’t had to yet,” Din then turns his head towards you. “Any more surprises?”

Your lips curl at the edges, biting your lip and stifling a giggle, “for now.” You wink at him and turn to dig through the basket you brought with, setting out various fruits.

Din’s eyes focus on the food but says nothing.

“Don’t worry,” you assure him, while taking a bite out of one you’d chosen. “It’s just in case you want it. I felt rude not at least trying, I can give you privacy if needed.”

Din mulls the thought in his head for minutes, considering the setting. He feels a twinge in his stomach, anxiety coming up as he shoves it back down. He’s grateful for how understanding you are when it comes to his boundaries. He hasn’t been given a lot of that when it comes to his helmet and his creed. The galaxy so far has insistently been against him when it comes to those.

“I appreciate it,” he says.

—————————————————————————

You choose for today, and just today, you’ll pretend. Pretend your obligations don’t exist, that you’re not a princess. That you’re just you, someone capable of being so much more than what she’s just been slated in life. Capable of being more with Mando.

That’s when the realization finally sets in, just how deeply you’ve found yourself in love with him. You realize it’s only been several days since you’ve met him, you haven’t even seen his face! But that didn’t matter to you, you have never felt so drawn to and comfortable with someone before in your life.

You also can’t say you didn’t let it happen, and it’s tragic almost. It didn’t help that the two of you had almost immediately fell into a rhythm together. Two stars in sync with each other’s gravitational pull, becoming a careful dance.

You can’t be with him, and he can’t be with you. But that’s assuming he feels the same way, and that you’re not really sure of. It might be better to not know. You can’t abandon your life, and he shouldn’t have to worry about you.

It hurts immensely.

“Here, I’ll do this,” you say, shifting your body to sit back to back with him. “I can’t see you this way, and I won’t look.”

Mando says nothing at first, visor trained on the spread you’d set out. His lack of response causes you to feel insecure.

“I’m sorry, maybe that’s too much-“

“No. You’re fine. It works.”

You give him a small nod before turning back to face away from him. You focus your eyes on anything else; trees, hills, the sky. You hear a hiss escape from where you feel him shift to lift his helmet and your heart stops. How would it be to see that face? But you would never betray that trust he’s just displayed.

Mando doesn’t completely remove the helmet, just lifting it enough to take bites of the fruit you’ve laid out. Fair enough, though. Whatever works for him and makes him feel most comfortable is more important to you.

Moment’s of peaceful silence pass as you take in the sounds and scenery around you while partaking in some of the fruit you snagged. Beautiful, lush green forest and fields, a clear and beautiful sky, the silent chewing from your armored companion. You wish you could live in this moment forever.

Reality finds ways to drift back into your thoughts though, always somewhat present and hard to escape. You let out a quiet sigh, leaning your back against his. You feel him tense up, subtly. But before you can think twice about it, he relaxes back into it, giving you a small amount of physical contact. You’re relieved he allows you this.

‘I’m glad we did this,” you break the silence. “I needed a break, as brief as it may be.”

“Thank you for including me,” he says in his unfiltered voice, helmet still lifted. Your heart in your chest speeds up from hearing it. As much as you love his voice with the modulator, the actual, naked sound is music to your ears. His voice is still low but with a rich timbre.

Worrying your bottom lip, you lean your head back onto his shoulder. He allows for that as well, maybe indulging you. It’s comforting, but also sad.

“There’s a chance I could not become a senator, like my father.”

Mando stills, “Is that so?”

“Sort of,” you begin to explain. “We still have democratic elections. There’s a possibility of me not being elected.”

Mando gives a low hum, “What would you do then?”

A million ideas including him run through your mind at that question, but you don’t say. “Technically I’d still be serving in some capacity, it’s how our family has always worked.” Part of you had hoped he'd have something to offer, more to say to that.

It’s quiet again, this time more somber. You’d been thinking about this detail for a while, and it still felt like no way out, and you feel ashamed for even trying to look for one. Mando doesn’t respond yet, replacing his helmet to its normal position.

You sit up and turn back to him, looking into his visor. Helmet already trained on you.

“Thank you,” he all but whispers, barely picked up by the modulator. You give him a gentle smile in response, “Of course.”

After the afternoon had worn on some more, and some comfortable quiet moments had passed as the two of you relaxed together, you signaled it was time to go.

Your heart tightens in your chest at the thought of every minute passing, becoming less and less time with him. You’ve tried hard to not focus on that, nor show that emotion. You want to enjoy the time you have left.

—————————————————————————

You and Din return to your suite at the palace, stopping just before the door. He assumes his regular place in front, waiting to watch you disappear inside for the time being.

But you don’t go inside, you stop just at the threshold. You stop in your tracks, seemingly contemplating something. You turn back to him, avoiding his gaze but also not as you start to run a hand through your hair.

“You can come in to wait for me…..if you want.”

It’s silent again, but tense. Din can feel his heart in his throat now, mouth dry as he tries to swallow it back down. His resolve crumbles enough for him to step forward, towards you. In his usual fashion, saying nothing, he strides past you into your living space. You step to the side to allow him in and he nods to you on the way.

Upon entering your temporary living space, he takes in the details of proof that you’ve been there. One side of the room is a luxurious, wide bed with accompanying side tables, a couch sits at the end of the bed. Across the room from there is a table with books, a rack of clothing, a vanity and dressing screen for your privacy.

“The couch is probably the most comfortable,” you mention as you saunter past him. “Make yourself at home.”

Din does so, looking out-of-place as he cautiously sits in the middle of the soft couch. Posture straight and gaited, he looks as stiff as he feels. He is painfully aware of the effect of the whole situation on the inside of his flight suit. It’s not that he’s uncomfortable, he just never expected to be in such a private setting with you.

It’s been too long since he’s felt this kind of need and genuine desire, and that also scares him. He feels like a doomed man, mentally cursing to himself that if only you had met under different circumstances.

You press a button on a panel on the wall near the dressing screen and all lighting in the room fades to a softer, yellow hue. You step behind the screen, bending to start removing your shoes.

Din has to suppress the almost audible gulping sound that leaves him when he realizes he can see your silhouette through the dressing screen. He doesn’t know if you know he can see you like this and is too stunned to even say.

“I’m happy we happen to be here right as this festival is happening,” you state. “I haven’t been to it since I was a teenager.”

He watches your shadow begin to undress, slowly peeling off your layers one by one until you’re in your underwear. Your hands move to undo the clasp on your chest band, causing an audible ‘snap’ noise. You move sideways, emphasizing a perfect outline of your front and back. He imagines your breasts must be as soft and enticing from their outline in the shadow.

He feels a twitch in his flight suit pants then immediately seeks to contain that by resting his ankle on his knee, bouncing it repetitively to keep himself ‘busy’. He almost jumps out of his skin as you walk to the edge of the screen, only to stop just before the end and reach your hand and naked arm to the rack where the garment bag you picked up yesterday hung, plucking it.

It’s certainly not out of place for him to have nothing to say, because at the moment he can’t even muster a word. He’s way too distracted now and hopes you’re not looking for a response.

You maneuver yourself into the dress, swaying your hips side to side to slide the fabric over your body. Din unconsciously flexes his hands, imagining how those hips would feel beneath them.

When you finish fitting the dress onto yourself, you emerge from behind the screen. When you notice him, your expression is curious and he fears he’s been caught until you ask, “are you ok?”

Din crosses his arms and stands abruptly, guarding the subtle expressions of his body language as much as he can. Give offers a curt, “Yes.” He immediately notices how flattering the dress is on you, laying perfectly with your back being the most exposed.

You narrow your eyes at him briefly and turn to seat yourself at your vanity. Din takes the opportunity to roam the small space, observing the table of books and reading material from the event that had been unceremoniously placed there.

You adjust yourself in the mirror of your vanity, fixing your hair. You look back at yourself with a determined look, twisting your arms to place your hair where you need it. Din watches your meticulous routine from behind, eyes flitting between your actions and yourself in the mirror. You can see him in the reflection as you work.

“It won't be too long, but it’s a process,” you murmur, moving to grab various pieces of makeup to apply.

Din can barely manage to offer any words as he imagines what it would be like to casually approach you, placing reverent kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders.

“Don’t worry about me,” he finally says.

You shoot him a questioning look where you see him in the reflection of the mirror, “are you sure you’re alright?”

Din forces himself to visibly relax, it’s uncanny how well you’ve been able to pick up on his mannerisms since you’ve met, “everything is good with me.” He feels like he sounds unconvincing and your lingering eyes in the mirror don’t help. You shrug and return to your tasks.

That companionable silence has returned as Din watches you apply your makeup, you mutter to yourself absentmindedly here and there as you move to each next piece. Some time passes before you set down your items and pat your lap, giving yourself a last look over in the mirror before standing.

The way you look takes his breath away. He was almost shocked when he first saw how casual you’d chosen to be today but loved it all the same. He loved seeing another side of you and right now is no exception either. He felt domestic just from being allowed to watch you put yourself together.

He wants to take you apart.

—————————————————————————

“Well?” You query Mando as you turn side to side to get a good look over yourself in the mirror. “Do I look alright?”

He’s paused then steps closer behind you, looming over your shoulder at your reflection, you look at him. You feel your heart rate quicken under what feels like his eyes raking over you. It takes everything in you to resist the urge to turn into him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Beautiful,” he offers the one-worded response, but that's all that needs to be said.

You turn to him, smiling, staving off a heat that threatens to take over your cheeks, “thank you.” He cocks his helm to the side in response.

You stride past him, noticing his helmet visibly follow. You sway your hips ever so slightly as his visor scans you up and down. Getting closer to your door, you look back and flash him a grin and gesture with a nod, “I saw that.”

“No you didn’t,” he throws back at you, sarcastically. You snicker in response, “Come on, shiny man.”

Mando stalks towards you and stifles a chuckle, “I get a nickname too?”

“I tried, not sure how I feel about that one.”

“Not as fun as mine, mesh’la.”

—————————————————————————

The festival is bustling, vendors sell their wares and trinkets while others offer delicious and exotic street foods. There are large displays of flowers and accompanying decorations across the town and performers scattered entertaining the masses.

You point out these things to Mando as you stroll through, your hand back in its place in the crook of his elbow. He doesn’t have much to say but you know he’s invested in your excitement and what you say.

Here and there you'd explain the meaning behind certain displays and performances to educate him. You figure you can do the same for him as he’s done for you when he’d allowed you to poke at him about Mandalorian customs. You’d share similar traditions from your own planet and how they coincide with each other.

You tried your best to be in the present and stop worrying about tomorrow, when you’ll inevitably have to say goodbye to the Mandalorian. You’re going to miss the camaraderie the two of you had unknowingly built together in the short amount of days. You’ve never found someone so in sync with you.

Regardless if he has similar feelings, it’s heartbreaking all the same. It’s too scary at this point to ask. If you’ve learned anything about him this past week, it’s that his actions speak louder than his words. Although it seems he reserves many of those words and actions just for you. A self-indulgent thought you keep tucked in your heart.

Day slowly turns into night, the sun giving way to a beautiful, pink setting in the sky. You finish up a snack you’d bought earlier as you nod at Mando, “fireworks should be soon, we should find a good spot.”

“Fireworks, huh? They really go all-out here.”

“It’s Naboo,” you laugh. “What do you expect?”

“Do you have a spot for that too?”

You scoff in response, “of course I do.”

And that you did. It’s a bold move, but you offer him your hand, “follow me.” He takes your smaller hand in his gloved one, and it feels warm. Safe.

You lead him along, navigating through other festival-goers until you find yourself in front of part of the forest that lines the city. He doesn’t question it though, and you bring yourselves to a small path in. When you’ve arrived, you’re at a small clearing on the side of the larger lake the show will display over.

“I never doubted you,” he proclaims. You feel like you can ‘hear’ a smile in his tone. You turn your nose up with a ‘hmm!’. You hear a faint chuckle that barely escapes his helmet’s modulator.

The sun is finally set, giving way to a beautiful, clear night sky. You take in a deep breath of air and admire it, smiling to yourself. You look down and notice he’s still holding your hand. You don’t say anything or move it, for fear of ending the small contact. He doesn’t try to break it up either.

One by one, lights lift into the sky and explode. The fireworks are bright and loud and your spot is the perfect and more private place to view them. You instantly become entranced in them, their reflections flash in your eyes.

You suddenly feel a familiar shift in energy, one that you’ve been feeling all week. From the times you feel his eyes on you for long periods of time. Sometimes even when his helmet isn’t exactly pointed towards you. A feeling almost hard to explain, you just know. But you don’t turn to face him just yet, preening under what feels like his warm gaze, while you can. These last few moments are difficult to approach, no matter how hard you shove back the emotions.

What will it be like after tomorrow? Will you feel a hole in your chest? A part of your heart that knows and wishes to know him that will forever be empty? Will you always spend the rest of your life asking “what if”?

You finally turn to him and he does the same. But there are no words. You’re both silent, save for the sounds of fireworks in the background. You look into his visor and admire the reflection of the bright, colorful explosions that play out on his helmet. It’s beautiful.

A tension builds between you, again. But what could be said? It’s too painful to say out loud. You’ll have to speak through your actions, just as he does.

You slowly lift the hand you’re still holding, cautiously bringing it to place over your chest where your heart pounds. You fear it might be too much when his hand stills, but then relaxes in place underneath yours. You just want him to feel your heartbeat, and he acquiesces.

But he surprises you again, after a moment passes, holding his hand over your heart. He brings his other hand up to remove his glove, carefully plucking from his fore and middle finger, sliding it off then placing it in his pocket.

With his now bare hand, he gently tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. Instead of bringing his hand back, he caresses the side of your face. You can feel him hesitate at first, hovering slightly above your cheek, seeking silent permission. You oblige by nuzzling into his palm, relishing the feeling of his bare skin on yours.

The setting is calm but the storm in your chest is otherwise and you wish you could remain like this. Tomorrow is coming too soon, it’s too much. But you know, and he knows.

When the show ends, the two of you remain that way for a short while after. You can’t bring yourself to end it any sooner but after some time, you decide to rip off the bandaid. When you slightly move from his hand, he returns it to himself but without putting the glove back on.

When you return to your room, after a solemn and quiet walk back, you swear you can still feel the warmth of his skin on yours. It’s all he can give right now and you’ll hold it dear to you.

—————————————————————————

Settling down for the night, you walk around the room to fade the lights back to the yellow hue. You sit on the couch as you read the last of a book you’ve had your nose in for the last hour. You glance up, down, then quickly back up again when you notice the silhouetted shape of something from behind your dressing screen.

Hurriedly putting the book down, you set for the screen to investigate. Behind it is the pile of clothes and one of your suitcases that had made up the shape. You realize, to your mortification, that anything behind casts a shadow than can be seen.

That means. That earlier. That he could. He could see- Oh MAKER.

Mando'a Translated:

Mesh'la = Beautiful

Cyare = Sweetheart

@dindjarinsmut @impala1967666 @kittenlittle24 @angel-with-a-heart @leithatnight @i-usually-main-bards-tho @dins-riduur-anthe @fatima-marisa @lalalalemonade11 @n7cje

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#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x fem!reader #bodyguard!Din x Princess!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #mando x you #mando x reader #mando x fem!reader #din djarin x female reader #mando x female reader

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skylarmoon71 · 11 months

Text

Timeless Wells (Flash) Soldier- Chapter 3

“This is a layout of Star Labs. The interior is larger than most in the state. Very few in the country have the high level tech that we provide. “

“Are we still in an interview Ms. Weeks?” You raise a brow, and her shoulders straighten.

“My apologies. “

You understood that she was above all else hired to be the face for Harrison Wells. Representation was important.

“I know you’re uneasy. I’ve heard about the letters he’s been receiving. But I assure you I am good at my job. Please have faith in my ability.” Her facade begins to deflate.

“I don’t mean to question your capabilities.” You can sense that there is more to this than just securing favor with her boss.

“It’s personal.” you inquire.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. Dr. Wells...Harrison.” She corrects herself.

“When I started out, he was the one who gave me a shot. I’d tried so many other establishments but I kept getting turned down. I couldn’t understand why. My resume was spotless. I had every requirement covered. “

Now her pushy attitude during the interview makes sense.

“Trying to be recognized in this line of work is difficult regardless of whether you wear pants or not. It’s frustrating. I was ready to give up, but Dr. Wells took me on. He gave me a shot when even his executive advised him against it. He believed in me. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have gotten confidence in myself, I wouldn’t have even met my husband.” Her finger runs over her ring with a fond expression.

“That’s why his protection is important to me. Very few people have the kind of power that he possesses and still have their humanity. It’s rare.”

The way she speaks about him sort of makes you want to take a bullet for the guy.

“I’ll do my best to ensure that nothing happens to humanity’s last hope.” You give a soft smile, and she returns it.

“Thank you.”

“No problem Ms. Weeks.”

“Allison. You can call me Allison.”

“Alright Allison.”

There’s a lot that needs to be done. You have yet to meet with Harrison. Officially, you start working in three days. You just needed to gather all that you could about his facility as well as his schedule. He’s a busy man. There’s no doubt about that. As you’re running through the papers, something stands out.

“What are all these blank spots on his schedule?”

“Those are time slots reserved for his personal errands.”

“If I’m going to be running surveillance for him 24/7 I’ll need to know all his whereabouts.”

“Then you’ll need to discuss that with him.”

“Allison.”

She shakes her head.

“I promise I’m not trying to make your job difficult. The fact of the matter is I have no idea what he does in those particular hours. There have been times where he’s gone hours at any given moment. When he gets back he just jumps right into work. It’s not my business to ask a grown man what he does with his time. My job is to keep him updated. That’s all.”

You understand that. It appears you will have to confront him yourself. If it’s something scandalous, it could be the reason behind the threats.

“If you find anything that could jeopardize his image..”

“You’ll be the first to know. As long as he isn’t some kind of serial killer I’m fine with covering up some minor unpleasantries.”

Truth is maybe he has a secret lover that he’s just trying to keep out of the paper. If it isn’t something that will compromise your integrity, then you weren’t going to press.

“So, tell me about your husband.”

You’re still sifting through the documents. Allison fidgets, wearing a slight flush.

“Is it really appropriate to talk about my personal life while you work? “

“Technically I’m not on the clock yet. Right now all of this is complimentary. So, do go on.“

She lets out a soft laugh under her breath.

“You really are a unique individual Ms. Yale.”

“Thank you, I’ll be here all week for your convenience.” You joke

This might actually be the start of a good friendship.

#harrison wells #securitydetail #protection #soldier #smart #care #family #allison #theflash #newunivers #timelesswells #change #friends #power

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nonhumen · 1 year

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@chaosbled : Chuuya had been quietly agonizing about this day for weeks. He and Verlaine had only recently grown close, thanks in no small part to the Flags encouraging him to reach out. He’d been angry at the older man for… a long time. But he could see that Verlaine was making an effort to understand Chuuya, & respect their differences. The last few months had been… painful, & Chuuya had found himself venturing down to visit the blond more & more. It was the first time he’d ever really felt like he had an older brother; the only bond he had he could compare it to was Anesan. It made him want to give him something meaningful — but what could he give Verlaine that the man couldn’t buy for himself if he truly desired it… He’d tried asking Rimbaud for ideas but the man had simply told him to follow his heart… which was probably French cryptid for ‘I have no idea’. It wasn’t as though Verlaine had any family besides the two of them he could ask. Wait… family… that was it.

He went down to the subterranean floor of the Mafia HQ & greeted Verlaine the same way he often did. Still unsure if he wanted to give Verlaine something so embarrassingly personal. The redhead was nearly finished his cup of tea when he felt a sudden burst of courage & grasped onto it tightly. “I know it’s your birthday.” He blurred out, internally cringing at how fucking awkward he sounded. “I-I mean, Rimbaud mentioned it a few months back… I’ve got something for you, but you have to promise to be honest with me if you don’t like it so I can take it back & get you something better.” He remembered a time when he had little to his name & all his gifts were handmade… the Sheep had never been particularly enthusiastic about a handwritten poem or a jar of cool seashells he’d collected. So he was a bit conflicted now; what if Verlaine hated it?

To my dear older brother, the cover page said in the corner. Inside the book was… well, it was almost a collage, of sorts. Images of Yokohama, random locations — no, actually. Images of places significant to them. The bridge, Yamashita park, Old World, the clearing where Guivre had been summoned… with little sentences written under each in calligraphy. You were the reason it all began… the second page had a picture of France, near the city where Verlaine was created. …& the reason I’m here at all. The third was a picture of the freshly created crater in Suribachi, long before the settlement started being rebuilt. It seemed to tell a story as he flipped through it.

You weren’t always here, & that really is a shame… but those that matter most in our lives sometimes take a long time to appear. Battered photographs of Chuuya, ages eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve & on, various stages of his life, from a blank-eyed scraggly little boy to a fierce, lost teenager. Salvaged from the stray Sheep he’d managed to keep in touch with & his own personal possessions. I had to grow without your guidance, & maybe sometimes I wonder what might have been if things were different. But I don’t regret meeting you when I did. Beneath that was a snapshot one subordinate had taken of one of their training sessions, when he was 16. Because despite everything…

A photo of Chuuya on his wedding day, when he’d dragged Verlaine in front of the camera because ‘if I have to take these cheesy ass family of the groom photos so do you!’ The text beneath it read: you were there for me during the most important moments. That’s why… Close to the end, a photo of the two of them, taken by Dazai of all people when Chuuya convinced Verlaine to show him how he braided his hair, & snapped the photo to both of their surprise, his husband could even sneak up on assassin spies, apparently.

I cannot regret what was never meant to be. We might not share blood or DNA, but our existences are forever intertwined. None of us ask to be born, but I don’t want you to mourn the fact that we were, or what opportunities were lost, I just want you to be AMAZED any of us ever got to be here at all. — Love, your little brother, Chuuya.

On the final page was a very official looking documents, belonging to the redhead, one of which he had to do a lot of digging to even find in the first place. It was his birth certificate, his legal one. The one beside it… a certificate of adult adoption.

“I don’t need parents.” Chuuya said, ever so softly. “I haven’t in a very long time, but…” You freed me from a date worse than death. You taught me everything I know about combat. You protect me & are there when I need it most. “Japan allows anyone to adopt individuals older than fifteen so long as both parties consent, & that the adoptee is at least one day younger. The Mafia also follows the tradition that the one who mentors you is, essentially, your guardian. So… if you wanted to…” This would make us truly family, regardless of circumstances of birth.

He clasped his hands together anxiously, & waited.

the days blend together down in the sublevels of the mafia headquarters. not that verlaine really pays much attention to the date of march 30th, for he is an inhuman thing created to be a weapon. he was not born, he does not have a birthday. and yet... i know it's your birthday. the older man pauses mid-sip of his tea at the words. icy eyes glance towards his brother to watch his expression and see how he seems to shuffle in place like a child. this means something to him, just as it means something to rimbaud.

birthday; the anniversary of the day one is born. verlaine was not born screaming into this world. he does not remember the day he was created, only remembers that one day he simply started existing. but that was no. 12, that pitiful thing meant for destruction. verlaine, paul verlaine, was given a birthday. the day he was given a name, given an identity beyond a number. the day he took his freedom. today is the anniversary of the day verlaine came into existence. " of course arthur would tell you. " the former assassin sets down his cup to give chuuya his full attention.

he has no idea what to expect for a birthday present. rimbaud had given him a hat but that had a purpose; it had been a tool for his protection. verlaine does not want for much now, not with the mafia on the rise and his release from his self-exile. when the book is initially set in front of him, verlaine doesn't know quite what to think. well, the first thing he thinks is how nice chuuya's handwriting has gotten.

a scrap book? verlaine flips to the first page and recognizes the locations instantly. meaningful locations. places where he made memories with chuuya -- both good and bad. he turns the page. france, a place of heartache. he knows those trees well; the details of the scenery the only thing he could fixate on while his body moved on its own like a puppet on strings. he remembers autumn, wishing to fall dead like those leaves.

the third page depicts the aftermath of arahabaki. it's a night he still remembers most vividly. chuuya had been so frail when the two spies had extracted him from the facility. verlaine remembers putting his coat around him to keep him warm, remembers how small he had been as he carried the child on his shoulders. something had sparked in him that night, something fierce and defensive. the idea of such a small, innocent child growing up to be like him made him sick. verlaine realizes now that it's the same feeling he gets when he sees chuuya in danger, when he sees him broken and in pain. the desire to protect.

the next set of pictures are new to him. it's chuuya growing up. he couldn't protect him, he couldn't whisk him away to some secret countryside where he would never know his origins. he's lonely and lost. he's like verlaine. he never wanted chuuya to be like him. the next photo makes the blond pause. it's a picture when he was training chuuya. the teenager is serious, concentrating on flattening his opponent with all of his strength. and verlaine is smiling with something light and lively in his eyes. this is when he had found is love for teaching.

chuuya's wedding at had been a special day. even if he didn't trust dazai -- as no smart person would -- verlaine could not deny the happiness he gave chuuya. he remembers talking to the boss after the two had gotten engaged, demanding answers and making mild threats because chuuya's heart must be protected. and that brilliant, cunning bastard dazai had said the one thing he had needed to say to make verlaine understand: chuuya is a lot like rimbaud, isn't he? verlaine stares down at the picture, at the way chuuya has his arm hooked around his brother so he cannot flee from the photo. he's grinning; they both are now. even if his initial plan had failed so steal a258 had failed, chuuya still ended up happy.

the last photo is one verlaine has never seen before and yet it is of him and chuuya. sneaky dazai, he is the only one capable of taking a photo of someone as paranoid as verlaine. he's in the middle of braiding his hair with chuuya looking up at him with fingers messily trying to copy him with his own fiery locks. it's so terribly mundane for a port mafia executive and the former king of assassin's. but isn't that the point? to have something gentle and boring and brotherly in their lives?

verlaine catches the documents as they begin to slip out. he looks at them curiously before realization of what they are slowly melts onto his face. " chuuya. " these emotions within him, swirling like a storm, how could someone ever write code for what he is experiencing? when verlaine had pulled chuuya from that black liquid into the world, when he found the conviction to save him from this life of pain, part of verlaine had wanted to stay with chuuya in that quiet village. even then he had felt the connection between them; the same connection that had verlaine calling chuuya brother when they met again nine years later. all this time, that fierceness in his heart, had it been a longing? a longing for a family? a longing now held in his grasp in the form of adoption papers?

family, not only in feeling, but in right. family, despite verlaine's inhumanness. family, despite them both know what they truly are. he reacts before he can think, pulling chuuya into a hug and holding the young man against his chest. he isn't frail or small anymore -- chuuya has grown up and has found a life for himself. one that is still full of bloodshed but can also be real and true. a life he now invites verlaine to be a part of. what a beautiful birthday present: to have a place to belong.

" merci, mon frère. je serai heureuse d’être ta famille. "

#chaosbled #𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄 : LINES OF CODE / IC #𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄 : FOR WHEN THE STORM COMES / MAFIA VERSE #I GOTTA MAKE A KINTSUGI TAG FOR VERLAINE NOW #it's turning into a cinematic universe lmao #but also oh my god???#like oh my god this is actually so perfect????#chuuya is actually a great little brother!!#probably helps that verlaine didnt actually kill all his friends but u kno #also i shoved the french into my preferred translator because im a filthy american pls forgive me

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percontaion-points · 10 months

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Today’s review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 2

…and the floors are some type of soil-your-pants brown. I know this for a fact. Last week, a guard threatened a new guy with castration and all hell broke loose...just like his bowels.

Imagine sitting at your computer to write, and the line that really wants to come out is this.

And an editor lets you.

Since public schools aren’t allowed to lean one way or the other, only private schools…

You’ve heard of private Catholic schools. Now get ready for… private Satanic schools.

My aunt Lina is my dad’s crazy twin sister who, I’ve been told, suffers from polyfused disorder, meaning the older spirit (supposedly) Fused to hers is strong enough to gain control of her body. When she isn’t acting like a giggly ten-year-old who speaks in the past tense, she works for A Look Beyond, a tour company owned by Myriad.

Sounds more like the people in this world are religious bigots who cover up people’s out of control mental illnesses by saying that they’re “possessed by an angel/devil”.

I’ve often wondered why she’s singular to Vans. Is she sleeping with him?

I’ve heard rumors about girls earning special privileges with their bodies. I’ve also heard about girls being threatened with harsher punishments if they refuse. Even the thought fills me with rage.

Again, the author could have written literally anything. And she actively CHOSE to write about a juvenile asylum in which the girls are basically being raped or turned into whores.

My dad is a senator in the House of Myriad, responsible for ensuring Myriad-friendly laws are passed and Troika-friendly laws aren’t.

Again, you might as well call them “Republicans” and “Democrats”, and this story wouldn’t change at all.

No matter what’s done to me in the future, I will hold out. I must. I’ll be released on my eighteenth birthday. Though my parents signed with Myriad before my conception, there was a special clause for the birth of a child.

When I came along, their contracts had to be renegotiated. Now their benefits are dependent on my decision. An incentive to raise me the “right” way.

If I haven’t signed with Myriad by the time I’m a legal adult, my parents will lose everything they love more than they ever loved me. Money, prestige. Homes. Cars. Boats. Not to mention the things they were promised in the Everlife.

That sounds like such an amazing deal. And also in no way like a combination cult and MLM. (Which, aren’t MLMs cults in their own way?)

TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide discussion

Suicide is expressly forbidden by both realms, and it can even render a contract null and void.

Not like I’m pro-suicide in general, but this seems like the perfect escape from those shitty contracts. Don’t want to go to either realm? Simply nullify the contract by offing yourself!

“Laborers are sent to protect the chosen and then, when the human reaches the Age of Accountability, they negotiate covenant terms and guide the human through the rest of Firstlife. With us, though, covenants are voided if the signer is coerced.”

So this entire time, we’ve been shown these literal children being tortured, abused, raped, simply so that they could sign. But yet, Bow is telling her that children being forced to sign is literally illegal.

MAKE UP YOUR GODDAMNED MINDS.

I would ask where the editor was, but I think we all know that there were none.

For some reason, as happiness buzzes in my veins, my gaze is drawn to New Guy.

He’s staring at me again.

Each of my pulse points leaps. Not knowing what else to do, I nod in acknowledgment

Oh look, it’s the love interest.

His surprised laughter follows me out of the cafeteria.

Chapter 2 summary: Ten fumes about what happened, and kind of takes it out on Bow. Bow, for her effort, is not daunted by the first roadblock, despite Ten basically telling her to fuck off.

The narration then pauses to meander through some more explanation about heaven and hell. (Until further notice, I refuse to call them the stupid names the author came up with.) It’s forbidden to talk about it in public schools, so the only information kids get is from their parents. Who are obviously biassed towards one end or the other. They have these “tours”, but they vary so wildly that the entire thing sounds like a joke.

The book then meanders through a tedious scene where some of the boys are making fun of Bow, before Ten goes to her morning “therapy” group. (I’m reluctant to use any sort of actual medical terminology here since, again, none of this sounds remotely legal by our standards.) There, Sloan makes an off-hand comment that some more guards are going to try and kill Ten again tonight. Ten explains to the readers that she killed the last guard who tried that.

Ten and Bow stay up that night, and end up fighting off four guards. This is mercifully glossed over. But after the fight, we have to endure more of what’s quickly becoming this book’s nonsensical conversation between Ten and whomever else is in the room with her. There’s probably a good reason why she’s in a mental hospital, NGL.

Six days pass without incident, which begins to worry Ten that something big is coming for her. Then, a new boy shows up, and Bow randomly hates him. I know that he’s the other love interest, but at the same time… From Ten’s perspective, Bow hates him simply because he exists. It’s kind of weird. Ten then talks some about the “Humans Against Realm Turmoil” or HART group, who are trying to stop these wars. But Heaven and Hell don’t give a shit about what you think; they only want soldiers who are dumb enough to follow orders.

Bow is still hung up over the unnamed guy, and asks for a distraction. She asks about Ten’s life from before. She mentions briefly that children are literally forced to sign when they turn 16. Instead of doing that, Ten stole her mom’s car and then got sent to the asylum the next day.

This quickly morphs into a discussion about Bow’s steadfast belief in Heaven that has never once wavered. Ten is honestly impressed with this, but it’s hard to say if that awe is because of how fucking dumb the entire thing sounds.

She then catches the new guy’s eye, and Bow asks if she’s interested in him. Ten gets angry, and rudely pushes the new guy over as she leaves the cafeteria.

#Firstlife #Everlife series #chapter 02 #Tenley 'Ten' Lockwood #but why #I would ask where the editor was but I think we all know there was none #shitty society is shitty #what the hell is wrong with people #Killian Flynn #Bow (Everlife)

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bing-bang-bingo · 4 years

Text

- 4x3: c. 40:00 Cas comforts Dean after Mary makes a deal w/ Azazel

- 4x7: 15:50 Dean stops Sam from shooting Cas, then Sam mentions that he’s “heard a lot about him”

- 4x7: 39:00 Cas tells Dean he prayed he’d save the town, then he tells him about his doubts and Deans future troubles

- 4x10 & ???: Dean calls “last night on Earth” his best line. He uses this line on Cas

- 4x10: 27:15 “Castiel has this weakness. He likes you.”

- 4x10: 32:50 Cas looking jealous and sad when Dean kisses Anna

- 4x16: 7:30 Cas tells Dean he got in trouble for showing emotion and getting to close to Dean. 8:20 “I would give anything not to have you do this”

- 4x16: 39:00 Cas warns Dean to be careful while Dean is in the hospital, they discuss the first seal and saving Dean from hell

- 4x18: 31:30 Cas tells Dean how to save Sam from Lilith even though he’s not allowed to interfere

- 4x20: 38:00 Deans face when Cas tells him he “learned his lesson when he was in heaven”

- 4x22: 30:40 Cas considers rebelling for Dean. 33:00 He does. 35:20 He fights multiple Archangels for Dean

- 5x1: 5:45 Dean denies Cas’ death 8:25 “I learned that from my friend Cas you son of a bitch”

- 5x1: 31:00 Cas saves Sam and Dean from Zach

- 5x3: 6:10 Cas-“I need your help because your the only one who will help me”

- 5x3: 10:20 Dean fixes Cas’ tie and jacket

- 5x4: 38:50 “Don’t Ever Change”

- 5x8: 38:20 Dean makes Gabriel bring Cas back, then makes sure he’s okay

- 5x13: ?:?? Cas won’t let Dean meet with Anna because it’s not safe

- 5x17: 30:30 Cas and Dean discuss what it’s like to have a deadbeat dad

- 5x18: 25:15 Cas kicks Deans ass for trying to sacrifice himself

- 5x21: 3:50 Cas and Dean bickering like and old married couple then Cas gives Dean a heartfelt apology.

- 6x17: 18:55 “No you’re confusing me with the other angel, the one in the dirty trench coat who is in love with you.”

- 6x17: 38:00 Sam: “So you killed 50,000 people for us?” Cas: *looks at Dean*

- 6x19: 25:20 Bobby reassures Cas that they’ll be back soon, Cas acts like a worried and disappointed wife.

- 6x19: 36:25 Cas yelling “Dean!” when Eve bites him

- 6x19: 40:00 Dean is the only one who doesn’t think Cas is working with Crowley (he’s wrong but it’s sweet)

- 6x20: 4:50 Dean v v worried, “But Cas you’ll call right? If you get into real trouble?”

- 6:30 Crowley implies that Cas is distracted by Dean and tells him he reeks of the Impala.

- 7:20 Cas says that Dean taught him how to care and what to care about. Then Cas saves Sam (for Dean)

- 13:15 Cas says that the worst part of working with Crowley (basically his sworn natural enemy) is that it hurt Dean and that he hated lying to him.

- 25:20 Cas refuses to ask Dean for help because he has “sacrificed too much” even though it means Cas could die.

- 26:00 Crowley tells Cas he has a way for everyone to get a happy ending “with all possible entendres intended” while Cas stares longingly at Dean.

- 33:00 Dean is close to tears when he learns that Cas is working with Crowley, Cas says he did it to protect Dean.

- 35:25 “Dammit Cas we can fix this!” “Dean it’s not broken!” He then tells the boys to run from the demon cloud and Dean gives him the saddest look in the world before being forced to leave him behind.

- 38:00 Cas watches Dean sleep. “I’m doing this for you Dean. I’m doing this because of you!”

- 6x21: 22:40 “I do everything you ask. I always come when you call and I am your friend. Still despite your lack of faith in me and now your threats I’ve just saved you yet again. Has anyone but your closest kin ever done more for you?”

- 6x22: Dean to Cas- “Don’t make me lose you, too.”

- 7x2: 5:35 Dean nearly cries on screen when he thinks Cas is dead

- 7x17: Cas says “I remember ~you~” as soon as he regains his memories.

- 7x17: Cas ask why Dean didn’t tell him all the horrible things Cas did. Parallels the conversation Karen and Dean had about telling Bobby she remembered him killing her and her telling Dean that he had never been on love before.

- 7x21: The face Dean makes when he sees Cas again plus the prolonged eye contact when Cas says Deans name.

- 7x21: Hester telling Dean that when Cas first saved him from Hell he was lost- parallels- Lucifer/Jess saying she was dead the moment she met Sam.

- 7x23: 8:50 “Go ask him. He was your boyfriend first.” Meg to Dean about Cas

- 7x23: 32:45 “I’m sorry but I’d rather have you, cursed or not.”

- 7x23: 36:50 Cas steps in to protect Dean despite spending the whole season avoiding fighting and saying he won’t fight.

- 8x2: 25:00 Cas ran away to keep the Leviathans away from Dean. Dean refuses to leave purgatory without Cas.

- 8x7: 20:30 Deans reaction to seeing Cas all cleaned up.

- 8x7: Dean convinced himself that it was his fault Cas was still in purgatory because he’s a sweet idiot boy who hates himself

- 8x7: 35:00 The whole Dean and Cas conversation about purgatory and Cas doing stuff that puts him in danger.

- 8x8: 12:30 Cas just casually going through Deans stuff and Dean not saying anything.

- 8x8: 13:00 Cas offering to watch over Dean while he slept

- 8x8: 15:15 Dean talks to Cas about feelings and heaven even though Dean hates talking about feelings.

- 8x17: Cas fights Naomi’s mind control for Dean

- 8x23: 22:50 Dean and Cas sadly discuss Cas closing the doors of heaven and say goodbye

- 9x1: Dean prays to Cas and tells him he isn’t mad about the angels falling.

- 9x1: Cas’ first instinct is to explain himself to Dean then to come help him.

- 9x1: Dean begs Cas to “for once, look out for yourself.”

- 9x3: 36:45 Dean to Cas after Cas came back from the dead “Don’t you ever do that again!”

- 9x6: Literally just Dean trying desperately the whole episode to hang out with Cas

- 9x10: 26:00 Dean and Cas talk about how Cas is doing and Dean offers him a rare sincere apology. Plus the “I prefer the term ‘trusting’. Less dumb, less ass.” dialogue

- 9x18: Cas’ little smile when Dean makes a joke about Honor Bars and Cas is just so happy to hear his voice.

- 9x18: Metatron’s illusion of Gabriel calls Cas Dean’s boy-toy

- 9x18: Cas can tell something is wrong with Dean, then Cas yells at Dean about getting the Mark of Cain

- 9x22: Cas chooses Dean over all of Heaven once again

- 9x22: The Cas and Dean conversation about the three of them being enough when an army wasn’t and Cas giving up an army all for Dean

- 9x23: “I’m blaming you for taking Cas’ grace.”

- 10x1: 5:00 Cas about Dean- “I miss him.”

- 10x2: 9:00 Cas’ reaction to learning that Dean is a demon

- 10x3: The conversation between Dean and Cas at the end of the episode. “You look terrible” “You on the other hand, your looking good.”

- 10x5: Deans reaction to Cas and Dean actors hugging and holding hands

- 10x5: “Put as much sub into that text as you possibly can.” *looks directly at fake Cas*

- 10x9: 15:00 Cas tells Dean he’s a good role model. Then asks him if he’s okay and when Dean lies and says he is he pushes it further. Dean makes Cas promise to kill him if he goes Dark

- 10x22: Dean and Cas fight and parallel Cain and his Wife.

- 10x23: Dean sees Cas’ bloody face in the mirror

- 11x1: Cas being more worried about Dean than himself even though Cas is under a spell that will kill him.

- 11x2: Dean calling Cas and stressing out when he doesn’t answer

- 11x3: Dean trying to coax Cas out of the attack dog spell, refusing to fight back when Cas was attacking, freaking out when Cas took a minute to wake up, refusing to let Cas heal him (because he “had it coming”), and refusing to let Cas apologize (because “there’s nothing to apologize for”).

- 11x10: “Dean, I came as soon as you called.” Also: “Stick your tongue out.” Dean-*does*

- 11x11: Dean realizing that something is wrong with Cas (while he is possessed by Lucifer)

- 11x11: Mildred says that Dean is pining for someone else(probably meant to be a reference to Amara, but she told him this after he had seen Cas for the first time in a few days.)

- 11x14: The sadness on Deans face when he realizes Cas is Lucifer and then his determination to save Cas

- 11x15: Dean getting kinda dark when he talks about what he’s willing to do to save Cas and he prioritizes saving Cas over bearing Amara.

- 11x17: Dean once again prioritizing saving Cas over saving the world. Sam reassuring Dean that they’ll save Cas (even though Dean didn’t say anything about what was upsetting him)

- 11x17: The camera zooming in on Dean after Michelle says that there is no normal after losing the man you love.

- 11x18: Dean refuses to put Lucifer in the cage or let him fight Amara while using Cas as his vessel.

- 11x18: The difference in the way Dean looks at Lucifer vs at Cas

- 11x18: Dean about Cas: “Lets go find that idiot and bring him home.”

- 11x19: Dean has been looking for leads non stop for a week since Amara took Cas

- 11x21: Amara uses Cas’s heart to find Dean, then shows Dean images of Cas beaten and bloodied to convince him to turn against Chuck

- 11x23: Dean’s face when he realizes Cas is back and Lucifer is gone.

- 11x23: Dean tells Cas he isn’t stupid and that he always helps

- 11x23: Cas: “Dean are you okay? How do you feel?”

- 11x23: Cas hugging Dean super tight before he goes off to die. Dean entrusting his life’s purpose (look after Sam) then thanking him for everything.

- 12x1: Cas seeing that Dean is alive and hugging him while his voice breaks.

- 12x1: Cas taking the job Dean have him very seriously

- 12x2: Dean adorably venting to Cas about his mommy-issues

- 12x3: Dean- “Morning sunshine want some coffee.” Cas- “No thank you.”

- 12x7: “Well at least I don’t look like a lumberjack.” They are such husbands

- 12x7: “Engaged in what Cas? killing you?”

- 12x8: Cas being so worried about what happened to Sam and DEAN that Kelly escaped.

- 12x9: Mary-“You left them!” Cas- *voice breaking* “Dean told me to go!” Also, just Cas looking so hard for them.

- 12x9: Cas blaming himself for Sam and Dean being taken

- 12x9 Cas knowing how long the boys have been gone down to the hour.

- 12x9: Cas’s voice and eyes when he hears Dean’s voice on the phone.

- 12x9: Cas killing Billie because “You mean too much to me” and “The world needs as many Winchesters as it can get.”

- 12x10: Poor Sam having to deal with Cas and Dean while they fight like an old married couple.

- 12x10: Dean immediately telling Ishim to go to hell when he insults Cas

- 12x10: Sam telling Dean to go to Cas when Dean thought Cas was in trouble

- 12x10: Cas immediately believing Dean about Ishim even though they’re mad at each other. Dean about to let Ishim kill him to save Cas.

- 12x10: Ishim comparing Dean and Cas’s relationship to Ishims relationship with his human lover, then saying he was going to cut Cas’s human weakness

- 12x11: “And Cas is my best friend.”

- 12x12: Dean about Cas- “My shy but devastatingly handsome friend here...”

- 12x12: Dean stressing out and voice breaking as he tries to comfort poisoned Cas

- 12x12: LITERALLY TOLD DEAN THAT HE LOVED HIM WHILE CAS WAS DYING

- 12x12: *looking at Dean* “I love you.” Then adds “I love all of you”

- 12x12: Cas- “Run.” Dean- “Cas, no.”

- 12x12: The look Dean gives Cas when he won’t stop staring at him after he’s healed.

- 12x14: Dean says some very harsh stuff to Mary after finding out the reason they Cas almost died at the lake house was because Mary was working for the British Men of Letters

- 12x15: Dean could tell something was up with Cas after talking to him for less than a minute, over the phone.

- 12x18: Sam trying to make Dean feel better about not hearing from Cas.

- 12x19: Dean literally always acting like a scorned wife when Cas comes back after long periods of time

- 12x19: Dean made Cas a mixtape

- 12x19: Cas- “I ~needed~ to came back here with a win for you.”

- 12x19: Cas- *gesturing between Dean and himself* “You mean... we?” Dean- “Yes, dumbass, we.”

- 12x23: Dean screaming for Cas when he attacks Lucifer and trying to chase after him forcing Sam to drag Dean back through the rift. A direct parallel to Dean pulling Sam away from Jess and the fire in Pilot

- 12x23: Dean kneeling next to Cas’s dead body looking up at the sky completely devastated.

- 13x1: Dean couldn’t bring himself to say dead when referring to Cas

- 13x1: Dean PRAYED to GOD to bring Cas back

- 13x1: “We just lost ~everything~. And now you’re gonna bring ~him~ back.”

- 13x1: Dean personally wrapping Cas’s body and giving him a hunters funeral.

- 13x1: The look of complete devastation on Dean’s face when he burns Cas’s body.

- 13x3: Dean refusing to help save Jack because he blames him for manipulating Cas and getting him killed.

- 13x4: The Empty to Cas: “I know what you love, what you fear. There is nothing for you back there.” He loves Dean and Cas fears that Dean doesn’t love him back.

- 13x5: Sam being worried about Dean who has given up all hope since Cas died.

- 13x5: Dean being so distressed thinking Cas is gone forever that he tries to kill himself

- 13x5: Dean seeing Cas alive again and they both have tears in their eyes.

- 13x6: Dean hugging Cas and saying he’s been gone for “too damn long”

- 13x6: Dean being immediately happier and nicer to everyone once Cas is back

- 13x6: Cas saying “Yes. Yes, he does” (in response to Jack saying Dean really likes cowboys) with the tone of an exhausted spouse.

- 13x6: “I told you, he’s an angry sleeper. Like a bear.”

- 13x6: Dean made Cas watch Tombstone with him.

- 13x6: Dean and Cas dresses like cowboy husbands.

- 13x6: Cas saying “I’m your huckleberry” to Dean in a deep accent and Dean looking away.

- 13x6: Their undercover names are Russel and Kilmer

- 13x14: The whole scene where Cas and Dean fight Gog/Magog and act like an old married couple.

- 13x14: The angry, dark look Cas gives Donatello when he tries to kill Dean

- 13x16: “Dean has him by the thigh!” Cas, jealously: “He ~what~?”

- 13x16: “and that includes the Cartwright twins.” Cas, again jealously: “what did you do with the Cartwright twins?”

- 13x19: Cas angrily confronting Naomi about forcing him to kill a bunch of Dean clones.

- 13x21: Cas secretly sliding Dean more pizza when Mary and Sam left the room.

- 13x21: Cas having to hold Dean back from going after Sam. Dean would have beat the shit out of anyone else who tried to stop him.

- 13x23: Cas trying to stop Dean from giving himself to Michael even if it meant losing Sam AND Jack

- 13x23: Cas sitting alone in the bum jet with tears in his eyes after Dean left

- 14x1: Demon: “How is it you lost Dean. I thought you two were joined at the... everything.”

- 14x1: Dean trying to save Cas from Lucifer then vs Cas trying to save Dean from Michael now

- 14x3: The look that Dean and Cas give each other when Dean comes home.

- 14x9: Cas almost being happy seeing Dean happy. And then having to force himself to not be happy so he doesn’t die.

- 14x12: Cas being phased at Dean for wanting to put himself in the box with Michael forever

- 14x14: Cas is the only Dean will let talk to him about Michael and be honest about how Dean feels

- 14x14: “No, it’s on us.”

- 14x14: Cas’s voice breaking when he talks about the possibility of Dean dying one day.

- 14x18: The pure self loathing in Cas’s eyes when he feels like he failed Dean by not telling him about Jack’s soul.

- 15x2: “You asked ‘what about all of this is real?’ We are.” THE MOST ROMANTIC LINE EVER. (Plus later Eileen and Sam have the same conversation but they get to kiss because homophobia)

- 15x9- 20:00 Dean said that they lost everyone they cared about, then added Cas specifically. Then he says “I had to bury him” not “we”

- 15x9- 23:00 Dean cries when he can’t find Cas. Then he prays to him and apologizes for letting him go. He falls to his knees praying to him and fully crying

- 15x12: “I created the world.” *shows Destiel*

- 15x15: This time when Dean sees Cas leaving the bunker, he stops him. (In reference to Cas saying “you didn’t stop me” when Dean got mad at him for leaving)

- 15x16: This is the the only version of Cas that rebelled for Dean. This universe is literally being saved repeatedly because of Cas’s love for Dean

- 15x18: CAS CONFESSES HIS LOVE TO DEAN then goes to mega hell for being gay

Anyway, Cas loves Dean and Dean LOVES HIM BACK, OKAY?!?!? Feel free to add more

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damonalbarn · 3 years

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Hey I was wondering if you knew the article that Justine spoke about suzi in?!

It was in The Guardian in 2000. Here you go:

Sweet revenge

In the mid 90s, Justine Frischmann and Damon Albarn were the First Couple of Britpop. Then he used a Blur album to rake over their break-up, while she languished in obscurity amid rumours of heroin addiction. Now she's back with a new album, and it's her turn to exorcise her demons.

Caroline Sullivan

Friday March 24, 2000

As Alison Moyet once said, it's hard to write a decent song when you're happy. Rock bands thrive on romantic turmoil in their private lives, without which they would be reduced to padding out lyrics with football scores and the weather.

Thus it was for Blur's Damon Albarn in mid-1998 when he sat down to write what would become the 13 album. His eight-year relationship with Justine Frischmann of the chart-topping Elastica, whom he once described as **"the only person who's ever been completely necessary to me" **had just ended, at her instigation. Pained and humiliated, he decided to exact revenge by exposing their most intimate details to public scrutiny.

The outcome? Embarrassment for Frischmann, a number one album for Blur and a bit of a result for Albarn.

Break-up albums are by definition both embittered and yearning - in the case of Marvin Gaye's vindictive Here, My Dear, they're just plain nasty - but 13 got more up-close and personal than could be considered gentlemanly. Albarn portrayed his former partner as neurotic, even slipping apparent drug references into the single Tender: "Tender is the ghost, the ghost I love the most/Hiding from the sun, waiting for the night to come". Frischmann was the ghost, supposedly, who was on the verge of being consumed by what one music paper euphemistically called "the darkness at the heart of Elastica".

Frischmann's response can be found on a song called The Way I Like It, which appears on Elastica's first album in five years, The Menace (out next month): "Well, I'm living all right and I'm doing okay/Had a lover who was made of sand, and the wind blew him away".

This is unlikely to be her last word on the subject. As she ambivalently begins her first round of interviews since 1996, she's finding that everyone has the same three questions. Why did Elastica nearly sabotage a promising career by taking so long to follow up their million-selling debut? Had Frischmann taken leave of her senses when she walked out on Mr Britpop? And what about the drug rumours?

"One journalist said to me, 'Dahling, I heard you were on heroin - Mahvelous!' " she says with some amusement. "Drugs are around, but I'm not that interested and never have been, although there have been elements of party animal in my band. The rumours are a lot to do with rock'n'roll mythology, where people want to believe you're having a more exciting time than you are."

The only drugs on her person today, as she perches on the edge of an armchair in her publicist's north London living room, are Marlboro Lights. Her other indulgences are two cups of herbal tea and a Cadbury's Flake cupcake, which she nibbles with well-bred pleasure. Her dark eyes are clear, and her long, tanned body is a testament to the virtues of a daily swim in a pool near her Notting Hill home. Only Elastica know whether they really succumbed to heroin and hedonism after their self-titled debut made them more famous than they'd ever expected to be, but if they did, Frischmann, 30, seems little the worse for it.

Given the current predominance of damnable boy bands, the Britpop mid-90s are beginning to seem like a halcyon period for English music. It was a time when the underground went overground, and a self-described "little punk band" like Elastica could sell 80,000 albums in a week.

More than a few loser guitar groups saw Britpop as a licence to print money, but Elastica, led with cool elan by the androgynous Frischmann, were one of its gems. The Blur connection was a marketing godsend (Frischmann and Albarn met on the London indie circuit, she as guitarist in an early line-up of Suede and girlfriend of frontman Brett Anderson, he as a cherubic baggy hopeful), yet the spiky-haired Elastica LP embodied that euphoric time like nothing else.

Frischmann, guitarist Donna Matthews, drummer Justin Welch and bassist Annie Holland were unprepared for the album soaring to number one in its first week. When they signed their record deal, Frischmann, whose great-grandfather was a conductor of the Tsar's orchestra at the Summer Palace in Byelorussia, was five years into an architecture degree at London University. A liberal north London Jewish upbringing - her engineer father built the Oxford Street landmark Centrepoint - had instilled expectations of success, but the reality of being photographed in the supermarket and having her rubbish stolen was a shock. Fiercely independent, she also resented her unsought role as half of Britpop's First Couple.

There was more. Two of Frischmann's musical heroes, The Stranglers and Wire, decided that two Elastica songs were suspiciously similar to two of their own tracks, and won royalties. Meanwhile, there were malicious rumours that Albarn had done much of the work on the record. He hadn't, but he did find Justine's success in America, where she was substantially out-selling Blur, hard to endure.

"It was very hard for him to deal with and he's very confrontational," she says, with the flattering openness of someone who prefers interviews to be more like conversations. She admits she often says too much, but in an era of image control and spin, her honesty makes her a one-off. Not that she's likely to land herself in it too badly - she possesses the intellectual ammunition to look after herself, which must have been instrumental in attracting two of rock's more articulate stars, Albarn and Anderson.

She's been accused of being a professional rock girlfriend, though it was probably they who were lucky to get her. She spent the cab ride over reading the Sylvia Plath letters in Monday's Guardian, and muses on the irony of the poet's subjugating herself to Ted Hughes when she was the more gifted. (Her new boyfriend, by the way, is an unknown photographer, "though that'll probably change, because men seem to get famous when I go out with them".)

"I reacted the way a lot of women do, by being passive," she continues. "He put a lot of pressure on me to give up Elastica. He said, 'You don't want to be in a band, you want to settle down and have kids.' " In so many words? "In so many words. He kept putting on pressure till I started to believe him." She adds bemusedly: "I've met his new girlfriend, and one of the first things she said was that he wanted her to give up travelling with her work to stay home with the baby [Missy, born last autumn]. I'm surprised he's got away with being thought of as a nice person for so long."

After 18 months, during which they did seven American and three Japanese tours, Elastica came off the road to record company demands for an immediate second album. Annie Holland's response was to quit the group, while Donna Matthews became renowned for hard partying on the nocturnal west London scene. They lethargically recorded some demos, but their heart wasn't in it. By 1997, when a second album should have been ready to go, Frischmann and Matthews were barely speaking, and there was nothing useable down on tape.

Holland's replacement, Sheila Chipperfield (of the circus Chipperfields), was deemed not good enough and left by mutual consent. By 1998, their continued lack of productivity was being likened to the Stone Roses' lengthy and ultimately self-destructive holiday between their first and second LPs.

"I didn't think Elastica were going to continue at that point, and we did kinda split up," she says, absently stroking her publicist's cat. Frischmann is a cat person; she's owned a tabby called Benjamin since she was 10. "Unconditional love," she coos. The pet's place in her life is so assured that prospective boyfriends are subjected to his feline scrutiny before she'll go out with them.

On top of everything else, in early 1998 her relationship with Albarn was in trouble. Frischmann retains enough of the indie ethic to detest the phenomenon of celebrity couples, and was dismayed when they became one. "I really hated the tabloid interest, and I went out of my way not to be photographed with him. Only about three pictures of us together exist, I think. In many ways, I think the media interest broke us up, because it made me feel the relationship was quite ugly, and I had to get away from it. There were other factors, too, obviously, because we were together for eight years, and I finally felt it was better the devil you didn't know, really."

Albarn's ego seems to have been severely undermined by having a girlfriend who was nearly as successful as he was, and something of a sex symbol to boot. Despite adopting a resolutely boyish T-shirt-and-jeans uniform, she's thoroughly feminine, a mix that got her voted fifth most fanciable woman in a lesbian magazine.

"I'm completely heterosexual, so I didn't know how to take that. It scares the shit out of me, the idea of being with a girl. I'm glad I've narrowed it down to half the people in the world."

She seems to view Albarn with indulgent exasperation these days, simultaneously praising his intelligence ("The Gallaghers just couldn't compete") and ticking off his flaws. "Damon adores being in the press, and sees all press as good press. He orchestrated that rivalry thing with Oasis. He really wanted kids, and I didn't feel our relationship was stable enough. He was a naughty boy, and he wasn't the right person to have kids with. I had this cathartic moment..."

At which point they split up. Albarn wrote 13 and then met Suzi Winstanley, an artist. "She was pregnant within three months," Justine observes wickedly.

Of the acclaimed 13, she's tactful, describing several songs as "really lovely". She studies her cigarette for a while before adding, "but I'm cynical about selling a record on the back of our relationship". But you're doing the same now. "It's true, but at the time I had no right of reply."

Elastica finally pulled themselves together last year, just as the music industry was about to write them off (their American label had already "very kindly let us go", as she puts it). Holland rejoined, Matthews went to Wales to sort out her life and the band banged out an EP and played the Reading Festival. Things came together quickly after that. They spent the last £10,000 of the recording budget on re-recording a dozen tracks, finishing the album, after years of procrastinating, in six weeks. They've called it The Menace "because that's what it was like to make".

It's dark and resolutely uncommercial - all wrong for 2000's pop-oriented climate. It's unlikely to match the success of the first one, which is fine with them. Call it (though Justine doesn't) their White Album. Its 70s punk aesthetic brings to mind angry girls such as the Slits and the Au Pairs, although the defining mood isn't anger so much as catharsis. None of the songs is specifically about Albarn, she claims. "The dark feeling is due to the sense of isolation, tasting success and getting frightened by it. I was questioning whether I wanted to be in a band any more, and there was no one I could ask for advice. Getting success and everything you ever dreamed about is hard to handle, and makes you question everything."

She's better prepared for success, if it comes again, this time. Already the privacy-preserving barriers are in place. The next interview of the day is with Time Out magazine, which wants a list of her favourite restaurants. "I'm not telling them where I eat," she says reflexively. "I'm gonna lie."

#questions #damon albarn #justine frischmann #blur #elastica

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 4 years

Text

I Would Do Anything You Asked Me To

This was supposed to be finished for the #vicficwriterchallenge earlier this month but life got in the way. I liked the prompt and lil fic so I figured I’d post it anyway. This is my first fic in the fandom too x

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer thinks he can hear Y/N moaning his name through the walls. But he has to be imagining things.

Category: Sort of smut, sort of fluff, and a lil teensy bit angsty

Warnings/Includes: smut, sexual language, voyerism, masturbation (both male and female), please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed

Word count: 2000 words

Masterlist

There’s been tension for a while.

It’s been building steadily and slowly over the past few years. Spencer’s pretty sure it’s all been coming from his end though. Why would Y/N even give him a passing thought in a romantic context, she’d been his best friend from the jump, taken to him the second she’d joined the team. They had the same embarrassing sense of humor, the opposite taste in movies, and nothing but love for each other. But it was strictly platonic. So platonic that they’d bunk together in hotel rooms for most cases, staying up reading in side by side twin beds, or talking nonsense a little too late into the night given they always seemed to have such a long day ahead.

But lately things felt different.

One evening in Kansas Spencer thinks he can hear a faint moaning coming from the bathroom while he’s skimming through a hardback. The walls in this place are bordering on paper thin but he thinks that it sounds like moaning, muffled just a little by the hum of the shower running. When Y/N comes out, steam billowing behind her as she gently dries her hair with a towel, he thinks she looks flushed. He thinks it must just be from the hot air and doesn’t linger on the thought for long.

That is until the following week in Louisiana. The walls are a little thicker but the shower’s definitely not running this time. It’s been shut off for a few minutes when he hears the same breathy moans. And it’s unmistakable when he hears his own name tumbling from her lips, the way she always says it, just, different. When she emerges this time he’s staring her down, without really meaning to.

“Did you call me?” he asks, puzzled. She shakes her head, pulling a confused expression, but the tips of her ears start to glow pink, matching the strap of her bra that he can see falling down her shoulder. God he wishes he hadn’t noticed that.

The next time it happens is markedly different.

It’s in Texas, and Spencer gets to the room late. Not by a lot, but longer than he’d like. One of the officers at the station had some follow up questions that kept him lagging behind the rest of the team. All he wanted in the world was to collapse straight into bed and try and string together at least a few hours of sleep. It’s late so he opens the heavy fire door as gently as he can, pushing it closed behind him softly. He doesn’t want to wake Y/N but it becomes increasingly apparent that there’s no fear of that.

He thinks he can hear her voice, calling out for him, but when he rounds the corner that’s not the case. Y/N is splayed across her bed, legs spread with her hand buried between them. Sweet but filthy moans are falling from her softly parted lips, her eyes screwed shut with intensity as her fingers worked inside of her.

“Fuck” Spencer whispers, it’s quiet and involuntary but he drops his bag on the ground without thinking about it and it lands with a thud. He ducks back around the corner before her eyes open but she stops immediately.

“Spence?” she calls out into what looks like an empty room, “Spence wait!”

“I’m just—” he swallows hard, “I’m gonna shower before I hit the hay” he’s aiming for nonchalance but it comes out somewhere between childish and awkward. If she responds he doesn’t hear, he’s locked the bathroom door behind him in a hurry, slumping against it.

Spencer wants to forget about it, or maybe he doesn’t. He’s carding through the memories as he lets the water trickle over him. Hearing his name echoing around his head just the way she’d moaned it twice now. His hand was braced against the cold tile while he stroked along his hard length, the images of Y/N spread completely across the bed not 2 feet from him with her fingers deep inside herself. Her head falling back against the pillows in ecstasy. He can’t help but think about what she’d been imagining herself.

It doesn’t happen for a while after that.

They hardly speak really, and thankfully for Spencer there’s no need to double up on rooms for a little while. Now he’s just got to get a hold of himself while he’s around her on cases, or in the office. Which wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t sit at the desk opposite him, or the seat next to him on flights. Or if her hair wasn’t so beautiful in the way it cascaded over her shoulders, or worse still, when she gathered it all to one side, exposing the planes of her neck to him while she worked.

Spencer was managing to keep his urges, and his feelings, mostly at bay. But really who was he kidding, they were bubbling just below the surface and they had been for far longer than this had been going on.

In Florida 3 weeks later they’re stuck sharing a room again. Hotch didn’t really give either of them an option this time anyway, why would he presume anything had changed between the two of them. And really it hadn’t, it had just become, awkward?

This became painstakingly clear as they walked into the room together.

“I’ll take this one?” Spencer half-asked as he dropped his go-bag by the edge of the bed nearest the window.

“I’m easy” Y/N responded, walking to the other and sitting on the edge of it, hands resting in her lap. “Spence?” she ventured, it tumbled out of her like a whisper, he almost missed it, so he pretended he did.

“Mind if I grab the first shower?” he asked, without waiting to hear for an answer he made his way into the bathroom. He washed the day off his skin, scrubbing against it harshly with the sad hotel soap out of frustration more than anything else. Y/N had been his best friend for so long, and these complicated feelings didn’t negate that. This friendship was invaluable to him but he’d be kidding himself if he promised he could shake these feelings for good. Everyone he’d ever dated, or thought about dating, no matter how flawless, just wasn’t her. They didn’t have her laugh, her smile, her kindness, the fire inside that she possessed was missing in everyone but her.

Every time she’d even made an allusion to a date with someone his stomach would sink. He wasn’t proud of that but it was true. His heart would ache at the thought of some other man getting to be with her, in any way at all. Of course Spencer and Y/N would go out for dinner, or a movie, or whatever on their days off, but once he was in the privacy of his own room later that evening he’d imagine where they could’ve ended up.

In his bed together, holding each other close. Maybe he’d place soft, sweet kisses all over her cheeks, peppering her neck and jaw with them first thing in the morning. Other times he’d think about how he’d grab her and pull her by her hips, letting his fingernails dig into them as he fucked her from behind, shaking the more precarious items off his desk.

This time however he was thinking about her in that damn hotel room again. Getting herself off and whimpering his name, like maybe she hoped that it wasn’t her fingers but him buried inside her.

When he finally left the bathroom he’d almost hoped she’d be asleep. And prayed that she wouldn’t care enough to ask him whatever question he’d dodged before heading in there. But Spencer had never been a lucky guy.

“Spence?” she called out again, soft and timid. Y/N was in a nightdress, it was small and satin and baby pink, and his shoulders tensed at the sight. He was distracted enough to forget that she was perched, legs crossed, in the centre of his bed.

“Y/N, I’m by the window” he had to force the words out of his ever so slowly closing throat.

“Spence!” she called yet again, harsher this time, trying to get his full attention.

“What!?” it came out a little louder, a little meaner than he meant it to. It was just misplaced frustration. Frustration with himself, with the whole situation, but never at her.

“Sorry Y/N” he breathed, letting his eyes drift closed in a effort to calm his nerves.

“It’s alright” she soothes, bringing herself up to her knees so she can move closer to the edge of the bed. Closer to Spencer. She’s still shorter than him even perched up like this, and he's trying desperately to ignore the way he can just about see down her nightdress with the way she’s kneeling.

“Spencer.” she states his name calmly, “If I had—” she cuts herself off, taking in an unsteady breath. It doesn’t look like it helps all that much. She reaches out to him but pulls back before she can really make any physical contact. Torn.

“Fuck it” she huffs and looks up to make direct eye contact with him now, unwavering, and he’s got no idea where her bravery’s come from all of a sudden, and really neither does she. “That night in Houston” she breaks for just a second, “If I’d asked you to stay, would you?” her eyes remain fixed on his, waiting for a reply that’s stuck deep in his throat.

“Y/N, I—” he shakes his head, “What are you asking?”

Her head falls to the side in a universal gesture for ‘are you kidding me?’

“You know what I’m asking Spencer, I was calling for you, trying” her eyes screw shut as she pinches the bridge of her nose “would you have stayed?” she looks up at him now, her eyes full of uncertainty and what he thinks could be sadness.

Spencer’d been a coward. He knew that already. He’d been a coward from the second he’d noticed these feelings for Y/N, scared that they’d damage their bond, or that she wouldn’t reciprocate. Because really he had no reason to believe anyone would return those sorts of feeling for him, least of all the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He could scarcely let himself imagine scenarios where she liked him, like that. But here she was, in the flesh, in a fucking satin nightgown offering herself to him. And apparently not for the first time.

Spencer knew he’d been silent for too long, and honestly he didn’t have a verbal answer he could give that wouldn’t be an entire fucking poem. So instead he grabbed her, a strong hand pulling her face to his to engulf her lips in a kiss. Rougher than he probably mean it, his teeth almost clashing with her own as their mouths opened for one another, tongues delving in deeper exploring and working against the other. He could feel the tiny moans she let out vibrating against his lips only encouraging him to prolong the kiss for as long as he could, breathing deeply thorough his nose in the hopes that maybe he’d never have to remove his lips from hers ever again. But Y/N knew better, pulling away gently to look straight into Spencer’s glimmering eyes.

“Would you?” she asks once again, her pout is flushed and almost swollen and he catalogues that image so that he can remember it forever.

“I would do anything you asked me to” It escapes him without thought, and it’s true. And it’s the best he can do right now without pouring out his entire heart and soul in this stupid hotel room.

Masterlist

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pleasantanathema · 4 years

Text

Invasive Species

Pairing: Hawks x Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Yandere, Dubious Non/Con, Stalking, Possessive Actions

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N:This is a part of the bnharem pen pals collab that can be found here! Please check out everyone else’s amazing work for this very unique smutty collaboration.

The noise was so faint, a gentle peck against the glass, the sound muffled by the mild summer breeze, that you hadn’t heard it. And so, the paper became lifeless, drifting down onto the floor to rest until you found it. You were startled when you saw it—a blood red feather, with a crisp, folded note tied to it, lying in your floor, the feather ruffling in the wind from the open window. Your heart pounded in your chest. You had seen feathers like that before, felt them against your skin and in your hair as a winged hero carried you to safety from a burning building just yesterday. But you’d been one of many, he saved so many people, yet he left a feather for you?

You’ll always be safe with me around.

–Hawks

You smiled at his writing, finding it to be much neater and prettier than you expected from a man in his twenties. What a kind, considerate hero to send you such an endearing promise. No wonder he topped the popularity polls, you mused, sitting on your bed and re-reading the little note. You tapped the feather against your lips, twirling it between your fingers. You remembered how he was able to control the nimble things, sending feathers zipping across the sky to pull people by their collars and the back of their shirts to safety. Surely he would want it back, right? You felt it twitch within your hand as if it could read your mind.

Quickly, you searched your desk, ripping at a piece of paper to create a slip similar to the size of his note. You took a breath before writing, not wanting your handwriting to seem unsteady or nervous. You wondered if anyone ever wrote him back, or if people kept his feathers like trophies.

Thank you, Hawks. I’m grateful that someone will be watching after me.

You signed your name in the bottom corner.

The crimson feather darted away when you placed it on your window sill, jumping like it was alive. It carried your note back to waiting hands and a cheeky smile, to a man only a few rooftops away. Avian eyes narrowed and darkened at your innocent words.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but your message was an invitation to a very dangerous game.

The next little letter came about a week later, long after the sun had set and your eyes were heavy. The quill against the glass spooked you, the sound reminiscent of sharp nails tapping to get your attention. You opened the window and the feather fluttered past your cheek, landing perfectly in the middle of your desk like it belonged there. You rubbed your eyes as you sat down to read it, flicking on the dim light that you had just turned off to go to sleep.

You couldn’t help the way you smiled when you saw that this letter was personally addressed to you.

Sorry for making you wait so long. I’m not used to writing letters. But your handwriting is so pretty, I thought I could implore you for another? Please tell me something about you.

–Hawks

You blinked at the paper, thumbs crinkling the edges. There was something about the letter that made your heart thump a little harder in your chest, blood racing in your veins. You realized that you were not one of many to receive an assuring note from the hero; no, you had been sought out by him, plucked and singled out of the crowd. Hawks had remembered you in particular. A small bit of adrenaline kicked into your system as you picked up your pen.

This is going to sound like I’m trying to be sweet on you, but I’ve actually always loved birds. My favorite are the pretty red song birds that I hear outside my windows in the evening.

There was a compulsion for you to keep this response letter a little longer. You mulled it over, hoping he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. You weren’t lying, those cute little song birds did bring you joy, but there was a tinge in your heart to impress him, to make him smile as he read your letter.

And as quick as the feather flew in, it flew away, a red streak across the star speckled sky. You finally curled up in bed, a concoction of excitement and content brewing in your chest. You held your pillow a little closer, dreaming of the brush of soft wings against your skin.

But those wings were dark, casting shadows in the moonlight, now only a single rooftop away from you. Hawks held your letter in his hand, golden gaze locked onto the color of your curtains. He wondered if you’d ever become privy enough to shut them.

He read your words over and over again, smiling at how coy you were. He knew you were clever, but he didn’t expect you to be so daring. He brushed his hair behind his ear, pressing the small scrap of paper to his nose, trying to get a hint of the sweetness he had smelled in your hair when he plucked you from that building. You were so darling in his arms; he loved how you clung to him, small hands around his neck like you would collapse without him, even when he had you safe on the ground.

The letter in his hand felt like the key into your life, and all too quickly he found himself writing back to you. And in the depths of the night, this particular letter and feather were hand delivered by the pretty bird from outside your window, though you’d never know it.

___________________________________________________________

You found the letter tucked neatly into the corner of your window, the one closest to your bed. It had been the first thing your eyes focused on as you awoke, the crimson barbs of the feather gleaming in the early morning light. You laid in the comfort of your warm bed for a few moments just gazing at the sight, sleepy mind trying to piece together how and why the winged hero had taken an interest in you. He was so handsome, so popular, so tantalizing in a curious way.

The summer breeze was warm even so early in the day. You left the window open to allow a current of fresh air in, settling back into your pillows as you unfolded the note.

I suppose liking birds is something we have in common. Those pretty red song birds outside your window are actually cardinals…an invasive species in Japan, but pretty nonetheless.

P.S. Perhaps I could soon become your favorite red bird.

–Hawks

You read it a few times, worrying your lip as your eyes raked over every word. There was something to be read between the lines, only you worried you weren’t finding the hidden meaning. Why mention that the birds were invasive species? It made them sound impish and not as lovely knowing they weren’t really supposed to be there. Yet their morning calls were beautiful, melodic, a comfort to your ears from the open window. And was Hawks…flirting with you? His post script seemed so playful and nonchalant, and reading it had your cheeks turning pink.

You busied yourself with your morning routine as you debated how to reply. You didn’t know Hawks, you didn’t even know how he found out where you lived, and yet he was flirting with you so offhandedly, like he expected you to return his dalliances. Had he come early this morning before starting his hero work? Or did he work at night, and sent a feather before returning home? There was so little that you knew about him that it made you nervous to be stepping into such an unknown situation, but surely it didn’t mean much to him. You were a little nobody; he was the number two hero.

Even still, in a way, it felt so romantic, finding hand written letters from him, like you were out of time, floating in a midsummer bliss. But it also felt disquieting, like you were stepping out into a vast, unknown ocean.

You sat down to write to him before you left to begin your day. The feather in your hand was so light, so soft, and you gently stroked your thumb over the barbs, watching them split apart and then find one another again. The hollow shaft seemed to quake in response. You were reminded of how every feather appeared to be alive, controlled by their far-off master. They were so sensitive to every touch, every gust of wind. You dipped your finger against the edge, watching the alluring color bleed against your skin.

Can you feel what your feathers feel, Hawks?

And you set the feather free once again, having to block the sun from your eyes as you watched it dance away, note dangling from a long forgotten ribbon you had found in your drawer.

But soon, you forgot about it, carried away by the daily musings of your life.

______________________________________________________________

As for Hawks, he thought about it all day, carried your little note in his pocket as he attended to his heroic duties across the city. The image of your window, of your little home where it was tucked away, always remained in the back of his mind. He was itching to go back to the rooftop from where he watched you; he wanted to see your reaction as you opened his letter, watch you ponder how to respond. He was quickly becoming addicted to you, to watching you when you least expected it.

He had perfectly crafted his response by the end of his day, broad wings hurrying him to his favorite resting spot. Your city apartment was so high up, no one from below could dream of looking up to see you. But he could see you, he had scouted the best from which to watch you. He was just high enough where you couldn’t peer back at him, the perfect perch for a predator to watch his prey. From the neighboring rooftop he could see the entirety of your bedroom. It was like a painting on the wall of a museum, wonderfully on display for him to admire, especially when you came home.

He rested his cheek in his palm as he watched you come in your bedroom door. He could practically hear you sigh as you dropped your bag, stretching your arms above your head to rid yourself of the small tensions your day had brought you. And this was his favorite part—you quickly shimmied out of your pants, a little dance as you bounced back and forth on your heels, pulling one leg up and then the other. You then bent over and pulled your favorite pair of soft shorts from the floor, having unceremoniously dropped them there the night before. You looked so good in those, he mused, the cozy fabric stretched so snugly upon your hips, curving just right across your backside.

He waited for you to get comfortable, then plucked a feather from his wings, tying his note to it with the ribbon you’d sent out this morning. He grinned at how you jumped when the feather flew through the crack in your window. He made a little show of having it swirl around you before landing it on your desk.

I can feel everything that my feathers touch—the wind, water, sound vibrations, they’re a part of me. You should give this one a kiss before you send it back.

The name’s Keigo, by the way. Takami Keigo.

Did you always blush like that when you opened his letters? He watched you stand up and pace around, thumb between your pretty lips, lost in thought. Soon you grabbed the note again, plopping on the edge of your bed to read it over. Your legs crossed and uncrossed, a smile finally pulling at your cheeks. He watched with delight as you picked up the feather, tingles immediately spreading across his skin at the feel of your fingers.

He groaned as you brushed your fingertips over the barbs. He pulled at his tinted eyewear, bringing them to rest upon his head so he could watch you more closely. A lock of hair twisted around his finger as he anxiously waited for you to do as he asked, to kiss his feather, to let him have a fleeting moment where he felt the ghost of your lips upon his skin.

But you didn’t, you just kept stroking the long red feather, teasing him. His brows furrowed as you stopped, watching you sit the feather back on your desk, along with his note. How could you…how could you not respond to him right away? Why not give him what he desired?

Hawks watched in disbelief as you sauntered out of your bedroom into another part of your little home.

He waited for what felt like hours for you to come back. He should’ve left when the sun went down, he chided himself, bringing his wings closer to his body. Autumn was in the wind. He had almost left, was even picking himself up and shoving his hands into his pockets when your room lit up like a beacon calling him back. So he settled back into his spot, golden eyes watching your every move.

His breath caught in his throat when you began to shed your clothes—all of them. He’d watched you for over a week now, and finally you were fully naked before him. You looked ethereal with the dim light of your room spilling over your curves, every single line of your body on display. He found himself sitting up straighter, perched on the balls of his feet like at any moment he was going to leap into your arms.

Were you…? Oh fuck, you were walking to your desk, sitting down and taking a pen into your hand. Instantly he was hard, fingers encircling his cock with a death grip as you picked up the feather, his feather, and admired it for a moment. He could feel your breath blowing against the soft barbs, the warmth spreading over him like a blanket from the breeze. But you sat it down, electing to instead write him back, treating him to the lovely sight of your naked back arched over your desk, the elegant sinews of your shoulders on exhibit.

And then you were in your window, your naked body so temptingly close. He wanted to reach out and touch you, to feel the weight of your breasts within his palms.

As soon as he felt the wind blowing against the feather, he pulled it back to him. He always knew when it was your feather returning to him, even when he couldn’t see it. He could sense the heft of the paper tied to it, pulling at the feather like it wanted to sink to the ground. He even recognized the tenderness in your touch, felt how you always twisted the feather between your fingers.

You’re cheeky, Keigo. A kiss? I hardly know you. Maybe one day.

He scoffed at your words, folding the note back into its creases. Your light flickered off, the moonlight the only illumination for him to gaze into your little world. He watched you climb onto your bed, expecting you to curl up in your favorite spot and drift away into your dreams.

He was very happily mistaken.

Your hands were on your body, one cupping your breast, the other slipping into your mouth. He stroked his cock through his pants at the sight, eyes wide and ravenous as he watched the scene unfold before him. You were slow, thorough, taking your time running your hand over your curves, twisting at your nipples. Your fingers left your mouth and traveled south, to another pair of lips he had yet to see. You spread your legs, teasing yourself as your head dipped back against the pillow.

Hawks was desperately moving his head, angling his body to try to see what sweetness was waiting for him between your legs. But your thigh was in the way, blocking his view, and he huffed indignantly as he unzipped his cargo pants. His cock was achingly hot as he released it, the night air bringing a refreshing chill to his scorching skin. He wrapped his hand a little too firmly around himself, closing his eyes for only a brief moment to imagine how tight you’d be around his cock.

Your face was awash with pleasure, lips hanging open. He silently vowed to etch that look upon your face himself.He watched you intently, memorizing every movement, every place that you touched yourself. He could’ve observed you for hours, if it wasn’t for his unrelenting need to orgasm. He pumped himself to the paces you set, alternating between fast and slow, wanting to cum the moment you did. But the moment he saw your back arch, his keen hearing picking up on a high pitched moan through the window, he lost control, spilling himself all over his hand and down the front of his shirt, dripping onto his pants.

He’d been so caught up in his own ecstasy that he missed yours. He only saw you in the afterglow, your curves sinking into the mattress as sleep overcame you.

He wrote you a quick letter, leaving it wedged against your window sill. He took a moment to admire you up close, hand pressing to the glass to steady the silent flapping of his wings.

___________________________________________________________

But I know you.

There was no signature to the note, only large fingerprints upon your window.

They were like little specters, ghastly against the morning dew.

Your stomach dropped at the sight, dread bubbling to the surface. He had hand delivered this note, had been at your window, had seen you at some time in the night. You pulled your sheets to your chest, recalling that you’d fallen asleep on your comforter naked last night, only waking in the early hours of dawn to finally crawl under the covers. Had he seen you? Is that what he meant?

He reminded you of Hermes, a winged protector of humans, but a trickster god nonetheless, flittering around the country with a bright smile and witty banter, but perhaps something darker in his heart. Maybe he was worse than Hermes, maybe more dreadful, more sinful. For a while there had been something nagging at you, pulling at the strings of your intuition and whispering danger. But now…now that feeling had blossomed into fear.

You decided you had indulged the winged hero enough. There was no need to reply. Any romance you had felt from the actions withered away, dying out like a flower left in the sun.

You started to close your curtains when you came home most days, just in case.

Weeks went by, and autumn came. The cardinals stopped singing, with no other red feathers or letters in sight.

But sometimes you could hear rustling outside, see familiar shadows pass by.

He was on your television screen, too, newsfeeds obsessed with the most popular hero. He was always being praised for saving more people, for helping rescue and clean up after a disaster. He was darling on the screen, blonde hair always slightly a mess from flying. He seemed so handsome, so harmless, but you could see the glint in his eyes. He was something wicked, something enticing, and you hated that you had thought about him every day since his last letter.

The morning you found his note, you had thrown the paper in the trash, and thrown the feather back out the window. But by evening, it had fluttered back, red and sweet like a rose growing against the glass. You’d left it there, hoping the wind would take it away, but days went by and it was still hanging on, a reminder of his presence. A storm was on the horizon when you relented and took the feather in. There was something inside of you that couldn’t bear to see the cherry colored barbs wilt in the rain.

You tucked it away in your desk drawer, not as a reminder, but to just to get it out of sight. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Some of your nights were restless, plagued with thoughts of him, of Keigo Takami peeking into your window, of his plush wings against your skin.

____________________________________________________________

It was after an especially long, grueling day, that you gave in to your repressed thoughts.

You stood at the foot of your bed, ready to climb in, when some unknown force had you turning on your heels. It was like your hands had a mind of their own, pulling open the drawer and plucking the crimson feather from its resting place. You twirled it before you, nostalgia creeping across your skin as you remembered how the feathers used to look in the summer sky.

The feather felt like red silk upon your lips when you kissed it. You wondered if he could still feel it, after all these months.

You laughed at the inane thought, kicking off your shorts as you finally found your way into bed. You gazed up at the ceiling, counting the moonbeams that had slithered in through the cracks in the curtains. You hadn’t closed them all the way, but you rarely did anymore.

You sighed, closing your eyes and trying to imagine yourself somewhere else. Your fingers drifted down to the hem of your underwear, toying with the edges. You thought of strong arms around you, thick hands in place of your own. You thought of a new hero you had read about earlier, some young, recently graduated young buck from a hero program. You bit into your lip as you tried to recall his name. All you could remember were wild plumes of purple hair, which looked so luscious and soft in the online videos. You tried to imagine him, or someone like him, at least, pressing themselves between your legs.

Your fingers rubbed lazy circles on your clit, warming your body up. But you couldn’t stay focused on one thought, the problems of your day tiptoeing back into your conscious as you tried to pleasure yourself. Your other hand slipped under your big t-shirt, tugging rather roughly at your nipple as you tried to bring yourself back into a different headspace. You increased the speed of your fingers, only to find yourself panting in dissatisfaction at your actions.

“Fuck,” you called in frustration to the darkness.

“Seems like you need some help, little bird.”

You had never expected the darkness to call back.

Your whole body stilled, going completely numb as you opened your eyes.

Hawks stood near your desk, absentmindedly fiddling with the feather you’d left on its surface. The window was open, curtains billowing and brushing against dark wings that eclipsed the moonlight. You felt like the shadows his wings cast were smothering you, sinking around your lungs like an inky vice, keeping your voice trapped within your chest.

He had the audacity to smile at you. His hands were deep in his pockets, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt that looked haphazardly thrown upon his shoulders. You wanted to run away, but you felt glued to the bed, beguiled by smoldering golden eyes as he approached.

“I know what you like, you know. Watched you do it so many times now.”

You braced yourself against the bed, the sheets slipping down as you crawled back, gaze transfixed on the predator placing his knees on the downy comforter. He was so quick, grabbing your leg and pulling you towards him. His smile never wavered as he pressed a wet kiss to your ankle, tongue sneaking out to catch a taste of your skin. You whimpered at his words, tongue too heavy in your mouth to form ones of your own.

“Cat got your tongue? Come on, I want to hear that pretty voice. Say the magic word, and I’ll be happy to help you out.”

It was like you were engulfed by his presence. The air smelled like him as he spread his wings, gently ruffling them before settling them back down to his sides. He smelled like rain, felt like a raging storm from above you, all dark clouds and lightning as his quick fingers started to move up your calves, keeping your legs spread to accommodate him upon the bed.

“N-no.”

Your voice was weak, just a hot gasp of breath into the room.

“You sure about that, baby? I promise I know exactly how to touch you.”

To prove his point, a hurried hand wrapped around your hip, thumb slipping under the fabric of your underwear to skim across your hip bone. You shuttered, his touch was too warm, feeling like he was burning his thumbprint into your skin. But it felt good, the pressure behind the digit so firm, making you feel so real against your body’s borders, feel alive at the jolt of pleasure that ran down your spine.

But with his body hovering above yours, it felt like there was a heavy weight falling onto your chest, pushing you down, down, down, deep into the mattress and holding you hostage. You wanted to push him away, to scream, to pull at his wings until it hurt him. But you were quiet, frozen in place, entranced by golden curls in the moonlight. And he knew it too.

“I’m going to show you everything I’ve learned by watching you,” his head dipped down, smile hanging just above your face, “and show you a few new things I know you’ll love.”

“Hawks,” you breathed out, hands finally moving and finding purchase against his chest. You wanted your tone to sound berating, angry, but instead your voice sounded pleading.

The brush of his lips against yours was so delicate, a penumbra against supple flesh.

“Keigo,” he corrected, the syllables of his name pressing into your lips.

He drank you in with a heavy groan, kissing you like a man starved for touch. You couldn’t close your eyes, too shocked at the sudden intrusion. Just moments ago you were dreaming of a man between your legs, and now one was here, he was real, eyes shut as he moved his lips against yours. Your sight was blurred by forming tears, your vision focused on the black lines that adorned his eyes. They were so beautiful, so stark against his soft skin, a reminder of how truly avian he was; a reminder of his primordial instincts.

The hand on your hip drew your body up into his, fingers now gripping at your ass with bruising strength. Your mouth fell agape at the stinging pain of his roughness, allowing his hot tongue to slip between your lips. You fisted his shirt, trying to push him away, only to be met with lithe muscles straining underneath the fabric. You were reminded that he might be slender, but he was still a trained fighter, the number two hero, and he could do anything he liked to you.

He was brash, eager, desperate to finally touch you. His kiss was sloppy and wet, full of hearty groans as his hips bucked against your own. Your eyes finally shut, mind trying to picture someone else above you, someone who didn’t stalk you, scare you, but yet you could only imagine him. His presence was suffocating, his smell saccharine, the brush of his fluttering wings addictive.

“I knew you kept my feather,” he panted against your lips, his head dipping to your neck where he pressed open mouthed kisses to your beating pulse, “I knew you’d call out for me.”

“Hawks, no, that’s not what I was—”

He forcefully sucked at your neck, the sharp pain silencing you.

“Keigo,” he reprimanded against your skin, “come on, you didn’t miss me? Not even a little?”

“How can I miss you when I know you’re always there?”

He chuckled, sitting back and plucking your hands from their tight grip against his shirt. He held a wrist in each hand, settling them on either side of your face, pinning you down under his strong arms.

“I wanted to write you so many more letters, but I was worried that you’d throw them away.”

“I would have.” You sneered, wiggling in his grip.

“But why? I told you that you’d always be safe with me around, little bird.”

“You’re stalking me, Hawks—”

The grip on your wrists tightened, his thick fingers crushing the delicate bones, a warning.

“I’m watching over you.”

He gradually removed his hands from your wrists, the movement slow, steady, his keen eyes watching to see if you would react. Your skin was throbbing, bones aching from his relentless grasp. You didn’t move.

“And look at how I found you, baby, so desperate for help.”

His fingers pressed between your legs, rubbing against your clothed sex. Pleasure ran through your veins like a shock wave, your legs instinctively closing around his forearm. He sat back on his knees, marveling over how your body reacted to such a simple touch. He moved a little faster, a little harder, middle finger pressed firmly against your slit. He daringly pressed in, the fabric of your underwear keeling at his actions, sinking inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already, is this all for me?”

You could only shake your head no, too stunned to open your mouth to speak. He smirked, running his other hand through his hair, whistling at the vexing sight before him. For so many nights he’d wanted to be right here, in your bed, your thighs spread across his own as he touched you, toyed with you, proved to you that he could please you.

He kept his hand on your pussy, using the other to lift up your shirt, fingers searing across your belly. They kept moving upwards, pushing your shirt away to reveal your breasts. He licked his lips at the sight, fingers itching to pull at your nipples.

“Say the magic word,” his voice was lower now, more sinister, “say it, and I’ll touch you how you like.”

Did you even have a choice?

His hands were perfectly still, like he was a man stopped in time. You blinked at him, once, twice, wondering how something so beautiful could be so nefarious. He looked like a fallen angel, like his feathers had been dipped in blood and he was going to paint you with them. Your heart rate slowed, any adrenaline you had to fight beginning to flush from your veins. Your pussy was aching, the tip of his finger stretching you just enough to make you want more.

“Please.”

His eyes snapped to you, black pupils narrowed.

“A little louder,” he commanded, “and say my name.”

You swallowed, tongue wetting your lips. Your fingers dug into the sheets, still next to your face where he had left them. You were sweating, overcome with the feeling of your naked chest heaving with shaky breaths.

“Please…Keigo.”

The dam broke, sensations flooding over you as he moved freely over your body. Your shirt was gone in an instant, your torso thumping back to the bed before you even realized he had ripped the material over your head. His shirt was gone, too, being shimmied over his wings and tossed into the floor. He was so quick, nimble fingers ridding you of your panties in the blink of an eye. And then he was on you, two fingers sunk deep into your pussy before you could even think to breathe.

You cried out, body arching as he pumped the digits into you at high velocity, your slick walls clenching. You felt his flaxen hair tickle your chest as his warm mouth sucked one of your nipples into the wet cavern, tongue shamelessly flicking over the hardening bud. Fuck, he felt so good, so warm, so real against your body, so much better than your own hands.

His teeth pulled at your nipple, white hot heat surging through your body in response.

“Keigo!” You scolded, but your voice was so high pitched, so laden with lust, that he mistook it for praise.

He continued to nip at your breast, fingers still plunging in and out of your pussy, the sounds lewd to your ears. His pace was wild and excited, making your skin tingle from all the attention. He sucked at your nipple, releasing the bud with a wet pop, a string of saliva still connecting his flushed lips to your darkening skin. He nuzzled his face to the underside of your breast, leaving you gasping as he sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin, nose pressing into the fleshy mound.

His fingers slowed as he sat back to look over your writhing body. He smirked, curling his fingers just right, pads brushing against the soft, flat place buried deep inside of you.

His free hand encircled your jaw, pursing your lips.

“Watch me, little bird.”

You nodded in his grip, keeping your eyes on his as he came to lay between your thighs. He draped one leg across his shoulder, allowing him to angle his head as he pressed a kiss to your clit. You moaned wantonly, worrying your lip between your teeth as you watched him. He was smiling at you, warm golden eyes hypnotizing you to keep observing. He was ready to put on a show, to let you see how observant he was, how he knew your body like the back of his hand without ever touching you before now.

The way he licked at your clit was intoxicating, little hot swirls with the tip, then heavy strokes with a flat tongue, alternating just how you liked. That sizzling coil inside your belly began to tighten. He was moaning against your wet flesh, the vibrations tingling down your pussy lips. He was enjoying himself, savoring you like an expensive meal he’d waited ages to try. His fingers kept in pace with his mouth, stroking you just right, strumming you like the devil would his fiddle within his hands.

He then employed a trick he learned from watching you. With his other hand, he spread your labia, exposing your sensitive clit even more to his hungry mouth. You shivered at the onslaught of pleasure, body so hot you felt like you could burst into flames, melt into the bed, die a little death. You whimpered, still wholly spellbound by the vision between your legs. Hawks’ wings seemed to shutter with every moan you made, the red plumage highly attuned to every sound, every move of your body.

Every touch, every lick, was so sinful and wicked. You tried to remind yourself that you didn’t want this, that Hawks was dangerous, that he had stalked you for weeks and could only tempt you so expertly because he watched you through your windows. But he was so beautiful, so devilishly divine between your legs, hot tongue swirling figure eights against your clit, fingers beckoning you to come undone.

“You like this.” He said it between long licks, fingers beginning a new, more ruthless pace inside of you.

A string of curses left your lips, your thighs beginning to quiver against his shoulders.

“No, no, please no,” you said the words to yourself, the pleasure he was creating becoming unbearable between your legs. He continued to lap against your folds, fingers spreading you wider, keeping you open and unprotected for him. He knew you were close, could feel your walls tightening. He added a third finger just to be cruel, to watch you shrink against the sheets as your back arched for him.

“Cum on my face, baby, I know you’ve thought about it before.”

To your shame, you absolutely shattered around him at his words, your pussy spasming, your orgasm flooding all of your senses. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you were blissfully pinned down by his feathers, asphyxiated by his overbearing presence within your room, within your body. He stopped his ministrations, electing to watch you unfold for him from between your legs, eyes brighter than ever before. He could see the muscles within your lower stomach contracting, could feel your orgasm upon his fingers, slick coating them in gentle waves, all for him. The sight was more glorious than he ever imagined, the girl of his dreams cumming all over his fingers, all over his mouth, your sweetness flooding over him.

He didn’t allow you time to breath, time to bask in the afterglow of your orgasm. He quickly pulled you into his arms, sitting you in his lap, greedily kissing your lips.

“Keigo,” you whined, pressing against his chest, trying to find a moment to breathe.

“Fuck, I love the way you say my name,” his lips were relentless, seeking yours out every time you broke away, head following you like a moth would a flame, “keep saying it, baby.”

“Keigo, get out.” You growled, threading your fingers through his hair and jerking his head away. You kept him at bay, keeping a steady pull on his blonde locks.

“Oh no, I’m not done with you.”

His eyes were so dark, his cock so hard between your dripping legs.

He was the devil, Lucifer himself, the wayward angel staring at you, waiting to devour you. And you, you summoned him.

There was no incantation that could contain him or send him away. His arms tightened around your back, one hand pulling you into him by your shoulder, the other hastily pulling himself from his pants.

“See what you do to me, little bird,” he took your hand and wrapped it around his cock, big hand using your smaller one to stroke his length, “I’m always so hard for you.”

You couldn’t help the shameless moan that tumbled from your mouth. His cock was silky smooth against your fingers, throbbing and hot, far too hot, and slick from his own pre-cum. You didn’t protest as he used your palm for his pleasure, a sly grin upon his cheeks as he felt you become complacent in his lap.

“Haw—”

The hand on your shoulder was swiftly upon your face, two fingers that tasted like your pussy invading your mouth to silence you.

“When you’re with me, you call me by my name.”

You nodded softly, eyes shifting across the planes of his face, attempting to read his serious expression. He continued to run your hand upon his length, guiding you to squeeze his swollen tip, thumb petting the underside of his cock. His thumb hooked in your cheek, not so gently tugging at the elastic flesh, studying how you let him touch you. He skated his fingers across your tongue, hoping to feel the wet muscle react to him.

“Keigo,” you mumbled against his fingers, the sound like manna from heaven to his ears.

“Good girl,” he cooed, feathers ruffling as he pushed you back onto the pillows.

You laid before him again, limbs heavy and with the ghost of his fingers still in your open mouth. He looked like a god as he towered above you, wings spreading wide as if to parade their otherworldly beauty before you.

Then you felt the weight of his hips between your legs, the press of his chest against your own, the prickle of his facial hair against your neck as he settled himself there. His hands were on you again, precipitous and heedless against your curves, twisting and pulling at your flesh to bend one leg back, hook the other around his waist.

His cock nudged at your wet heat, one of his hands guiding him inside of you, the stretch simultaneously delightful and dreadful. Protest was on your tongue, you could taste the words, feel your gut instinct to use your curled leg to kick him away. But your arms welcomed him, encircling his shoulders as you moaned for him. Your head tipped back against the pillow and he took the opportunity to latch on to you again. His tongue lapped at the sore spot he had created earlier with his mouth, tasting the saltiness of sweat upon your skin.

“You feel so good around my cock,” he groaned, hips beginning to snap into you. Your nails dug into his shoulders, his feathers brushing against your knuckles as he moved within you. You felt so full, so entirely encompassed by him, enraptured by the sweetest devil.

All your movements felt coerced, like your body was following his lead against your will. Your hips began to match his thrusts, bucking up into him in order to feel his thick cock fall deeper into you. His strong hands encouraged you, gripping into the supple flesh of your thighs as he pressed himself into your wetness, faster and faster with every thrust.

You kept your eyes open for a moment, entranced by the exquisite scene above you. Keigo felt unhinged, electric against you, golden curls bouncing upon his head, red feathers dancing upon his back. But his face was smooth, pretty, cheeks dusky with a dark blush as he found euphoria from within your body. One of your hands trailed up to the back of his neck, weaving within his hair. His eyes fluttered open to see you, signature grin returning as he felt your touch, his hips rocking a little harder to reward you.

“Tell me how it feels to have me inside of you.”

You closed your eyes then, focusing on how effortlessly his cock glided within you. Each thrust was hasty and rough, skin slapping against skin as his cock buried itself deep within your gut. He curved just perfectly inside you, cockhead delightfully brushing against the sensitive flesh of your walls with every plunge of his hips. His hands were splayed across your hips, one dangerously close to your clit, as if teasing you.

“Fuck,” you hissed, recognizing the buildup to orgasm pooling within your belly, “you feel so good.”

A bawdy sound left his throat at your words, like he’d died upon hearing them.

One of his hands slid higher upon your body, fingers lacing around your ribcage, framing the underside of your breast. He began to forcefully pull your body into his, sliding you upon and down the sheets and upon his cock. You cried out, leg tightening at his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, begging him to devour you and take what he wanted.

“That’s right, little bird, I’m going to make you cum on my cock.”

Your breasts were bouncing against his chest, your nails leaving indents upon his skin, his mouth back to sucking at your neck.

“And then I’m going to cum in you, make you mine.”

You were too lost to care, every nerve under your skin desperate for his touch. His thumb glided wickedly against your clit, fanning the hellish flames of your ecstasy even hotter and higher than before. A shriek of pleasure erupted from your chest, the hand upon his head bringing him closer to you, crashing your lips together as tears gleamed in your lashes. His cock was hammering into you so ruthlessly, your clit feeling abused from his too-quick thumb.

You were coming undone too quickly and too soon, your body feeling like threads being ripped apart at the seams. He grunted into your mouth, your tongue finally coming to play against his own, battling against him as you wrestled within yourself not to cum for him again so soon. But every stroke of his cock brought a fresh burst of pleasure blooming across your body, and you were so close, so fucking close to falling off the edge.

“Say my name,” he demanded against your lips, “say my name when you cum.”

There was no reason for you to comply, you weren’t his, he didn’t own you, but everything inside of you ached to appease him, and your mouth moved on its own accord.

“K-Keigo,” you stumbled, feeling yourself climbing the orgasmic ladder, every harsh thrust of cock leading you up another rung. His arm wrapped around your back, pressing you up against him in a hectic embrace. Your face settled against his shoulder, your fingers tightening in his hair, the others drawing blood upon his back. He only purred at the pain, so determined to bring you to release that he paid it no mind. His thumb rubbed tirelessly at your swollen clit, moving it in harmony with his cock.

Suddenly your moans stopped, the air being knocked from your lungs as pure ecstasy approached again.

And then the world felt too quiet, your mind hazing over as you cried out in melodic moans, your inner walls clenching and unclenching so deliciously tight against his thick cock as you came for him. You could feel the heavy weight of him inside of you, still plunging into your depths as he sought his own release. Your fingers relaxed against his skin, feeling like you were sinking and he was the only thing keeping you safe from the fall.

“Keigo,” it was a whisper, the barest hint of sound against his ear. But he felt, heard it, and it had him tumbling over the orgasmic edge with a roar of your name. Hot ropes of cum filled your body, his hard cock twitching against your walls.

“Fuck you’re mine, all mine.”

He murmured it against your hair, both arms now wrapping around your body. You laid there, motionless in his arms, heart pounding within your ear drums. Reality came crashing down far slower than your orgasm had, but still the consequences of your actions felt weightier against your body than the man above you.

He fell to his side next to you. But he wasn’t gone, far from it, as his hands were back on your body. One trailed across your cheek, the other dabbled between your legs, toying with his cum that leaked from within you.

He smirked, eyes catching yours, “and now you’re mine, my perfect little bird.”

You were too tired to fight back, lids heavy as he held you against his warmth, the fierce wings of an invasive species draped across your naked flesh.

#hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x you #keigo takami x reader #keigo tamaki #my hero academia #bnha #collab #hawks smut #yandere hawks #yandere #yandere keigo takami

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lavandermin · 3 years

Text

if all stars fell at once (1) | xiao

pairing | xiao/reader

word count | 3k

genre | fluff, light angst, developing relationship, overall domestic

warning | eventual smut

The memory comes clear as the crystalline waters at the harbor. That day when rain poured mercilessly upon the land— the boy in a mask whose body trembled under an invisible burden. You remember the dark splotches on his body being washed away by downpour.

Blood.

Polearm supporting his body as it heaved, his face slowly turned to face you as an ominous dark mist accumulated around him. And when you blinked, it was as if he was never there; replaced by rain.

Whether it was the haze of sleepless nights getting to you or reality, you still had yet to know. Curiosity was fresh in your mind. His presence… though brief, held immense power and a tainted aura; enough to instill fear in the hearts of any who witnessed them. But you stood there, unwavering and eyes alight with awe and curiosity despite the rain that hailed mercilessly around you.

Weeks continued, and the image of the boy remained somewhere in your subconscious. Days came and went as your mind remained hazed, clouded with the fleeting memory.

The dark clouds overhead brought in strong winds; a sign of a storm rolling in. The laundry hanging outside would surely be swept away at this rate. Quick on your feet, you hurriedly pulled them off the clotheslines. Yet despite your efforts, a couple handkerchiefs you had embroidered were blown away by a harsh gust of wind.

“Ah…!” Despite your attempt, the wind plucked them out of reach. All you could do was helplessly watch as they were carried by devious winds further down the mountain.

Those were for… Ah, I guess I’ll have to redo those, you pondered anxiously. If they were all to be delivered in 3 days, you would have to stay up fairly late just to finish replacing them.

The candle light cracked and flickered as night crept over Liyue. No use stalling. With a sullen crack of your neck, you shut the windows and got to work. The relentless rain was your sole company as you worked through embroidering the replacements well into the night. Despite the nimbleness of experienced hands, numbness settled in after hours of working tirelessly to replace the delicately embroidered handkerchiefs. And with patterns and threads so intricate, they weren’t something you could rush.

The moon came and went that night, having accompanied you behind the storming clouds as it rained and ceased. Yet, late the next day when you returned from running errands, there upon your open windowsill were two neatly folded handkerchiefs safely held in place by a beautiful stone. You examined them— with no doubt, the ones that were swept away.

And as a breeze picked up once more, you didn’t dare look back but hoped the wind would carry your words to the deserving.

“Thank you.”

That was the first time in over a millennia that Xiao was thanked by a mortal for one of his many silent deeds.

———

Soft colors of fading blue and powdery orange iced the sky with the setting sun. You reminisced past memories fondly as you picked a few herbs from your personal garden. The day was slowly dwindling to a lethargic end, but the land ceased to fall into rest to savor most of what the day had to offer.

“Do you remember that, Adeptus Xiao?” you asked with a fond smile. It was met with silence for a moment before a voice spoke up from the roof of your house.

“So, you knew I was here. Mortals truly are something I cannot understand,” he clicked his tongue, shifting to get comfortable where he rested comfortably on your roof. “Or perhaps, it’s that our ties are too strong. Curious…” He pondered to himself, brows slightly furrowed as he contemplated.

With a stretch of your back you stood up, basket in hand. “I know my grandmother’s home is rather quiet here in Qingce Village, so I’ve noticed the roof has become a favorite spot of yours,” you observed with a small shrug he couldn’t see. “Call it a hunch.”

Though he wouldn’t admit it, Xiao knew your guess was right. With your home tucked furthest away at the top of the village, there were seldom any onlookers in the tranquil area. A perfect, stress-free corner for him to visit.

With a huff and trained grace, he hopped off the roof on playful winds and followed you indoors. There was still a cautious air about him but never the same as when you first met him all those months ago.

It seemed like you understood him more than he understood you sometimes, and it puzzled him to no end. Mortals were usually more predictable; working in routine and habits as he had seen of the many centuries that passed. Or… at least he thought. It was no secret that he found mortals to be indecipherable.

In the small kitchen, he was presented with an enticing dish that you laid out; his favorite, no doubt. “Here. I’m heading out to the harbor to run some last minute errands, but you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like,” you reassured him with a smile. “Thank you for keeping me company today.”

At your genuine, radiant smile, Xiao couldn’t help but avert his gaze shyly. Truthfully, it always caught him off guard to be thanked for such trivial things that were somehow meaningful to you.

Before you reached the front door, Xiao called out after you. “If you are out late, summon me— call my name. I will guide you safely home.” With firm reassurance, he held your gaze under piercing amber. “Promise me this. Do not be reckless.”

There was no fighting the grin that lit up your face. “You worry for me, Adeptus?” you teasingly prodded, and placed a quick peck on his cheek. “How unexpectedly cute of you.”

At the gesture, his eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his composure returned. Pensively, he folded his arms across his chest, and you swore he could practically be pouting.

“The safety of Liyue is my duty as an adeptus. As a tool to be used, and nothing more.”

There was a brief sorrow reflected in your eyes, and before Xiao had a chance to address it, you were hurriedly giving your final goodbyes with your usual warm energy.

“I promise I’ll be safe.”

Left to himself, he accepted your gifted offering of almond tofu. I love the way your eyes practically sparkle when you take that first bite, you once teased.

The memory picked up the thrumming in his chest— uncertainty accompanied by rose-dusted cheeks.

With each delicate bite, his mind upheld more questions. The feelings that burst subtly in his chest— what were they? He searched his heart for answers to describe it. Peace of mind? Loneliness?

As many times as his mind decided to go through the same painful cycle of thoughts, ultimately he was left with more questions than when he started. There were no answers within him.

Such as the moon replaces the sun and the days dwindle into night, he too would let it be for now.

And as the sun slowly retreated more and more behind mountains and thin clouds, Xiao couldn’t help but wonder why he continued to keep near you. A tie foraged with a mortal that strangely did not instill the overwhelming need to leave.

Even the room he was in caused no discomfort or suffocation. The cycle started once again as he wondered, why? He often resided at Wangshu Inn, but never in a room. The rooftop high above any wandering souls was his claimed accommodation. The balcony just below that was seldom used by guests was the only other space he occupied there— eyes able to survey the land from a higher vantage point.

However, here in this small shelter you called home there was none of that, yet he stayed. Curiously, his eyes wandered the room to take in the oddities and trinkets that were used as decorum. The bookshelf across the room posed with great importance, and as he approached it he took in the vast collection of books and small items that decorated some empty sections.

Gloved fingers grazed over the elegant, gold-foil titles of some of the books. Some he has partially read before, or listened to you read aloud while he rested on your lap under the large tree outside.

He found himself plucking one out tentatively, flipping through some pages of a thick storybook with worn corners. Another book from the shelf— a thin book of floral poems and sonnets. His mind idly worked to put together what these books could possibly say about you.

After neatly putting another book away, a small glint caught his eyes. Toward the end of one of the shelf rows was a pile of three books with a precious stone sitting atop them.

Ah, the cor lapis stone he had used when he silently returned the two missing handkerchiefs to you many moons ago. An unknown feeling settled in his chest, warm & persistent. It flourished— euphoric, almost, and not too unpleasant. He wondered if it was somehow related to similar chest pains he’d dealt with. Could he really call it ‘pain’ if it wasn’t truly hurting him? The feeling was foreign and he was utterly clueless.

He moved the stone to check the book underneath, flipping through the pages curiously. Amber eyes indifferently skimmed through a page his finger landed on, curious to what contents the vague title held.

A romantic novel from the looks of it.

The words were needlessly descriptive, the dialogue a little confusing to understand. Such flowery language was a bit bold and the more he read, the more the imagery they tried to paint became vivid in his mind and—

Xiao quickly shut the book, his face warm as he neatly returned the book to its rightful place. Well, it was an interesting book to have in your possession, to say the least. He didn’t have much experience with what it described, but the erotic imagery the dialogue described still left his face a little flushed and brows furrowed as he huffed in indignance at his flustered state.

Mortals do such things? Well, he knew they did, but he was never one to look into it more since he had no reason to.

He had no experience in such intimate matters, nor did he pay much interest in them with his hands usually full on a daily basis. Yet, somehow the thought of you now caused a swirl of emotions inexperienced by him before. Or rather, if he did, he no longer remembered. New questions piled up in his mind.

He shook his head, practically wincing at the odd sensations that kicked him low in the gut as the heat rising high on his cheeks subsided.

“How bothersome,” Xiao muttered to himself with a sigh.

On that same train of thought, he glanced out the window. The sun was merely a whisper that remained as it tucked itself farther behind mountains and dipped below the horizon.

Gloved hands momentarily clenched by his sides, flexing to ease the small seed of doubt. Mortals were unpredictable and reckless, that much he was aware of. With a sigh he watched as the sky over Liyue settled into the tranquility of night.

Though night had fallen, there was still no sign of you returning.

And so, Xiao set off on his usual routine. Out he ventured to vanquish the scattered hotspots of evil activity that surfaced. Be it from subdued gods or his own karma, Xiao relentlessly made quick work of any and all evil.

It was his eternal duty, as bound by contract from the Geo Archon himself—this he knew. If anyone should have witnessed his swiftness as he worked solemnly, they would’ve noticed how he worked just a little harder to clear out any evil nearing your usual route home.

The moon rose high in the sky, a dusty blue as it cast soft light over Xiao’s masked form. His polearm jabbed into the ground and dissipated along with the yaksha mask he donned for battle. The roads that led back to Qingce Village were all cleared, yet still no sign of you.

Approaching the marsh under blue moonlight, his gloved hands created ripples in the calm surface. The reflection of his concerned eyes stared right back at him through the tumultuous ripples that distorted his reflection over playful waters.

Under the watchful eye of the moon, Xiao diligently washed away the impurities that remained on him from battle. Clear waters surrounding him became murky before clearing once again as the blood and grime was carried further down with the current. Xiao closed his eyes and allowed himself to bask under the moonlight, taking in the rare moment of tranquility.

And then it rang out, soft and clear like a wind chime dancing with the gentle breeze.

Adeptus Xiao.

Shrouded by darkness, he answered your summons. As the thin veil of dark entity surrounding him dispersed, he found himself next to a bridge. The waterfall behind him brought a refreshing breeze, and just beyond him he could see Bubu Pharmacy below as well as the harbor.

“You called,” Xiao inquired. “It’s fairly late.”

He wasn’t here to admonish you, though it sounded very much like it. With a playful grin, you smiled up at him from where you sat on the grass next to the bridge.

The way you carried yourself without a care in the world— it was almost endearing how you looked up at him with such fondness.

“Can I ask why you’re here of all places?”

Your nimble fingers continued their work on the flowers you had in your lap, and you almost looked away bashfully. “I wanted to gaze at the stars for a bit,” you admitted sheepishly. “I finished my errands earlier, but then I ran into Mister Zhongli from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and, well… The conversation went on for a while and we ended up here.”

Silently, Xiao took a seat next to you, eyeing the handful of glaze lilies that softly glowed on your lap.

“What did you talk about?” he inquired to fill the silence. He delicately twirled one of the glaze lilies between his gloved fingers.

“Oh… this and that,” you shrugged.

Xiao hummed in response, not wanting to pry into the conversation, until he felt the softness of petals brushing his forehead.

“Mister Zhongli… he showed me how to make this.” There was hesitation in your downcast eyes, and you peered up at him through your eyelashes. “Do you like it?”

“A crown of… glaze lilies,” Xiao noted slowly. Their soft fragrance was delicate and sweet, like the gentle presence of the moon. It reminded him of you. “I’m unfamiliar with mortal customs of exchanges. Is it an adeptal offering?”

You blinked, taken by surprise at the question before sputtering out in a fit of giggles.

“Oh– No, no! This is what we call a gift.”

Xiao furrowed his brows, taking in this vague description. “Hm… I see. What meaning does this gift have?”

You perched your chin on your finger, contemplating. The only ‘gifts’ adepti were familiar with were the offerings that few who went before them brought. Usually, an offering entailed the bargaining of a mortal’s wants and desires to come true. Selfish, wishes he was all too familiar with hearing often.

“Gifts are given to people you consider special,” you started. “To those people who are important to you, usually you put extra effort into the gift. Handmade gifts as well… embody special significance since they hold all the feelings poured into them to be given to your special person.”

The chirps of crickets and running water soothed over the momentary silence as he took in your explanation. Mortal customs were more emotionally driven than he once thought.

“I see. Then,” Xiao delicately tucked the glaze lily he held into your hair. “This is my small offering.”

The rose that dusted your cheeks as your grin lit up your features, it bloomed his chest with that foreign warmth. The weight of reciprocating the gesture without a second thought— he had just openly admitted to considering you a special person. It felt… right.

In the lateness of the cool night, you both sat side by side looking out at the display of glittering stars. He felt as your pulse would briefly quicken under his gloved hand whenever you stole a quick glance at him, and he would offer a gentle squeeze of reassurance in response. Curious, this human next to him— and yet he found himself enraptured by your simple presence.

Across the endless sky, you halted what you were idly chatting about as a speckle of light shot across the sky.

“A falling star… There’s rumors that making a wish on them will help it come true.” Xiao hummed in response, eyes closed in peaceful tranquility. “Hm…”

You pulled your knees closer to you as you contemplated your wish. Xiao watched you with one eye open, observing the way your features subtly scrunched up as you profoundly debated within you what your wish would be.

“So.”

“So?”

“What did you wish for?” Xiao asked quietly.

Mortal desires were usually the same. Wealth, power, lavish items— these wishes Xiao had heard of many times before. Yet—

“I wished…,” you scratched your cheek sheepishly. “I wished for a restful sleep.”

Your cheeks were quick to flush a deep crimson as you heard what sounded like a chuckle next to you. It dawned on you that you had never heard Xiao laugh until now. It was melodic, innocent.

“D-Don’t laugh!” you halfheartedly admonished with a playful huff. “Well, then— What’s your wish, Xiao?”

He pondered for a moment, closed his eyes and spoke soft as the flitting breeze.

“I wish to get to know you better.”

Perhaps he didn’t have all the right words at that moment, but he was bound to discover them sooner or later. Somehow, he was sure you would be the light that guided him the right way to go about these foreign feelings— feelings he was sure weren’t malignant, so he allowed them to persist.

These unsorted feelings for you... they weren’t getting in the way of anything. They were harmless, until proven otherwise.

#xiao #xiao x reader #xiao/reader #genshin xiao #genshin #fluff #developing relationship #pwp #eventual smut #mostly xiao not knowing what he’s doing #zhongli #genshin impact #fic: iasfao #mii writes #I forget how to tag sorry it’s been a while #adeptus xiao #I’ll edit format later

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Shadowed Rationale

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,597

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Some things aren’t terribly rational. And some responses are even less so. But what other option is there? Revealing yourself can be a terribly embarrassing thing, isn’t it better to hide it?

In which the reader is afraid of the dark.

Author’s Note: I’ve decided to write based off my own prompt every two weeks. Mostly because I realized I can no longer think of ideas, and also cause I’m a bit writer’s blocked and I’d feel bad writing requests right now. This premise is pretty cheesy, but sometimes simple starting points are the best to build upon! Besides it was a really a chance to work on my atmosphere, sometimes putting an image in your mind on paper is quite difficult, especially when it comes with an unsettling sort of mood.

All the characters I chose are characters I saw at least some point in the 1.4 teaser stream (Kaeya, Xiao, and Zhongli are tomorrow). I’m so excited! Although I have to apologize to Venti, sorry I have no idea how to write you so I chose not to.

I realize I idealize some of these characters (ie: Childe) quite a bit. I hope that they still keep their individuality, that they still stay in character. That being said I’m quite happy with how this turned out to be, so I hope you like it.

Albedo

It’s not that you didn’t trust Albedo. Indeed Albedo sometimes felt like the only person in the world you could trust.

It was simply that, though you two had been in a relationship for the past four months or so, you still wanted to impress him in some way. Or at least not seem like a total idiot. And to you the most idiotic thing you could think of was your fear of the dark.

It wasn’t that it was a totally irrational fear, of course humans were afraid of the dark, how else could they have survived this long? It was more that the fear felt irrational now. And besides, you had a vision. Your partner had a vision. You two were more than equipped for anything that might be lurking in the shadows. Besides it’s not as if your fear had a tangible image in your mind. It was more like a cloud, a miasma, which filled you with anxiety.

You knew you should tell him, knew he’d be nothing less than a perfect gentleman about the matter. But your pride was too great, or perhaps it was your embarrassment. Either you said nothing. And here you were now, in Wolvendom, in the middle of the night, desperately trying not to jump at every shadow you passed.

Albedo wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to your nervous disposition; once he’d found something to experiment with he developed the slightly unhelpful habit of blocking the rest of the world out completely. Not that that was terrible for you in current circumstances. Maybe you’d make it out of here with your dignity intact.

That optimism however was drowned out by the oppressive anxiety you felt. Though Albedo had assured you that his connections had managed to get Razor’s promise that no wolves would bother the two of you it was still difficult to contain the shiver up your spine every time you heard their distant howling. The landscape didn’t help, comprised of sharp drops and trees which seemed as if they’d never been alive in the first place. The long cavern in which you two walked seemed too vulnerable, too low to the ground with no way to protect yourself either from behind or above. The valleys were crawling with hilichurls, and you’d occasionally see the silhouette of a wolf or two. You could make out the old Monstadt as well, if you gazed westward, and the solitary, crumbling turret cut an eerie figure against the inky sky.

As Albedo studied the lamp grass that was the reason for your expedition – as he’d developed a curiosity in regards to their luminescence, how it was created and how it might be extracted and experimented upon – you looked around you. Though there was nothing in sight to be afraid of you still found yourself going to draw your weapon, though you were loath to actually do so, not wanting to look silly. After all, only a fool would attack the dark.

Luck, however, wasn’t on your side. You seemed to be spotting a figure, appearing at the other side of the valley in which you’d found yourselves in, walking straight towards you. You blinked rapidly, brain desperately trying to choose between whether or not it was a figment of your imagination. Surely it must be? What sort of cloaked figure would be wandering around in the dark? And yet the other half of your mind whispered that it must be something, something or someone, and that something or someone was fast approaching you. Was it? Or were you just imagining it? You truly couldn’t decide. Another howl echoed on the wind. Your senses were becoming too overwhelmed, too confused. Oh why were you there? Why oh why oh why?

You backed up slightly, brain now determined to see the shadow on the horizon as a human. Your hand clutched your weapon and you tried to remember if there was something, anything behind you. A ridge perhaps, so you might not have to worry about what was behind you, might be able in some ways to ground yourself.

Unfortunately luck wasn’t on your side, and instead of finding some point of security you found yourself tripping over your partner.

“Shit.” Albedo let out a curse as you fell backwards, hitting the ground with a loud thud. “My love are you alright?”

You said nothing, instead glancing back towards the other end of the valley. The figure seemed much skinnier from the ground, and for a moment you felt your brain cloud over in confusion. Then, as if all of a sudden your mind had put the pieces together, you felt a rush of relief, swiftly followed by embarrassment. A trunk. It was a tree trunk. Covering your face with your hands you groaned.

“Beloved?” Albedo asked once again. You looked up at him, a feeling of sheepishness and fondness washing over you as you saw the worried expression on his face.

“It’s nothing Albedo, I’m perfectly fine. It’s just… ah,” you let out a sigh, steeling yourself for the interaction you’d specifically hoped wouldn’t happen, “I’m, I’m afraid of the dark. My eyes were playing tricks on me just now, I thought I saw someone walking towards us. But it was just a tree.” You let out an embarrassed sort of sound, once more burying your face in your hands. Damn it. Now what were you going to do?

The feeling of fabric around your shoulders was a surprising one, and you quickly looked up. Albedo was crouching down beside you, having wrapped his coat around you. There was no sense of shame or embarrassment in his eyes, only love and a sense of caring.

“You should’ve told me.” He said, voice soft and warm. “I’m sorry I brought you along when it makes you so uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry I’m being such a pain,” you replied, “it’s such a stupid fear of mine. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I felt like, like you’d think I was being irrational. Like I was being silly.”

“There’s nothing irrational about being afraid of the dark my love. It can be frightening after all, not being able to use all your senses to their full capacity. And even if it were an irrational fear, I wouldn’t look down on you for it. Alchemists, those who study the world, they cannot expect to always interact with what is perfect, what is always rational or what always makes sense. Neither are they infallible themselves. Besides,” he continued, brushing your hair out of your face, “I’d rather you be cautious over nothing than see you hurt.”

You found yourself unable to say anything, overcome by his words. It wasn’t that he’d said anything you hadn’t told yourself, you knew after all that being afraid of the dark wasn’t without a purpose, that it wasn’t utterly irrational in itself. But it felt different when Albedo said it. When you said it there was always your anxiety to counter it, when Albedo said it you accepted it as true. For it was Albedo who said it, and he’d never lie to you.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, hugging the coat closer around you, happy to be enveloped in something so familiar and comforting.

“Of course,” Albedo smiled, kissing you on your forehead, “I love you. So very dearly.”

The rest of the night you kept his coat wrapped around you. Although Albedo had quickly reverted to his informative sort of state he hadn’t forgotten what had passed, and every once in a while he’d give you a quick hug, or squeeze your hand in reassurance.

Overall it wasn’t such a terrible night.

Childe

There was no hiding your fears from Childe.

The man was the nosiest – or perhaps most observant – person you’d ever met, and he’d quickly put two and two together as soon as you’d started living together.

Unfortunately for you Childe also had the kind of work schedule that would make a surgeon’s job feel envious. And a part of that schedule entailed you staying up at all hours of the night, trying desperately not to jump at every sound.

You knew that it was going to be one of those nights, and as of such you’d decided to take a nap in the afternoon, so the lack of sleep wouldn’t weigh on you too much. The afternoon sun had been strong, and though you’d decided not to close the curtains you also didn’t bother to keep any of the lights on. After all it wasn’t supposed to be more than an hour long nap or so, and keeping the lights on felt like a bit of waste.

Your regret came the moment you opened your eyes to the pitch black of your room.

How did something change so drastically from daytime to nighttime? All the familiar figures around you seemed to have disappeared, or perhaps it was more accurate to say they’d been transformed. Now even your closet door seemed to have taken on a life of its own, wriggling within its frame as if possessed. The unobstructed window cut harsh lines along your floor, but it was a cloudy sort of night, and every once in a while even the moon would be snuffed out, sending your heart rate skyrocketing once more.

You were utterly and totally paralyzed. At first you’d drawn the covers over your head, hoping to block it all out, but it was a warm evening and quickly you found yourself throwing your blankets off, needing some unobstructed air, met once more with the terror of the dark.

Childe, you wished Childe were here. He always knew how to chase away the dark, how to make the books and the lamps and the dressers go back to their usual selves. His teasing annoyed you sometimes, but now you longed for the distraction. If only he weren’t so late. If only you’d paid better attention to the time, if only.

Your eyes darted around your room, as if seeking out something you knew wasn’t there. You knew that whatever you saw was an illusion, the result of your brain trying to piece something together, something to keep it from getting bored. You knew perfectly well that it was an explainable phenomenon. And yet fear is so very difficult to fight, so though you continued scolding yourself for your nonsensical actions, you also continued to look around, sure that you’d find something if only you paid enough attention.

Time had frozen along with you, and you were so preoccupied with your fear that the door opening came as a terrible shock. You jumped, adrenaline racing through your veins, but the muffled “I’m home” was what you’d been waiting for. You just needed to go greet him. The moment you got out of your room and to the light of the kitchen it’d be alright. But you were still frozen, and though your mind screamed at your limbs to move you found there was no escaping the sort of spell that had been cast by your fear.

The sliver of light from the hallway finally began to eat away at your trance. The door opening to reveal Childe was what completely broke it.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Childe asked, a look of concerned plastered on his face. You let out a strangled sort of cry as an answer, fumbling off the bed before catapulting straight into his arms, burying your face in his chest. Childe immediately reciprocated the hug, stroking your hair in a soft, soothing motion. It hadn’t taken much to put the pieces together. What else after all could it be.

“It was the dark, wasn’t it?” He asked, whispering a faint “ah” in response to you nodding your head. “It’s okay my darling, I’m here. You don’t have to be afraid anymore, alright? It’s okay, it’s alright. It must’ve been very frightening to be alone.” His voice was almost melodic, the sotto tone slowly coaxing you back to yourself.

How confused would people be, you thought to yourself, how confused they’d be if they realized how kind Childe truly is. But you were grateful for that kindness. Right now it was what you needed. There’d be teasing tomorrow, teasing and bantering, and everything that was the usual Childe. But right now there was only comfort and softness, and you thanked Childe and the archons for it.

The rest of the night was a sedate one. You were both tired, Childe from his work, you from not only yours but the terrible fright you’d had. The two of you had eaten a late dinner, chairs pulled up next to each other, hands intertwining intermittently. There wasn’t much talking, instead you two enjoyed being in each other’s presence; the familiarity and comfort it brought.

Though the night was still warm you found yourself cuddling, arms wrapped around one another, legs tangled together. The beating of Childe’s heart steadied you, his breathing reminded you that he was there, that you were safe now. You didn’t have to fear the demons that your mind imagined. He’d scare them away for you.

It was difficult to keep secrets from Childe, and in the beginning the urge had been there. Who would want a significant other who jumped at shadows and was always spinning tales of the dark in their head? Especially someone like Childe who was so confident, so self-possessed. It was shameful, a part of you told yourself, how could he bear it?

But you were glad he’d figured it out, that you couldn’t keep secrets from him. Because at the end of the day Childe knew you best, knew how to keep the fear and the anxiety at bay, knew that being afraid of the dark, although worth a little teasing, didn’t make you any less of a mature and intelligent human being. And for that you loved him.

You loved him so much.

Diluc

“I know this might be sudden, but I want you to move into the Winery.”

That simple sentence had the adverse effect of completely messing up your life.

Your initial reaction had essentially been to buffer. Living together with Diluc, living with the person you loved above all others, it really seemed like a dream come true. Like something you’d wish to happen without any hope of said wish being realized. And yet it wasn’t a dream. He’d actually asked you. Diluc had actually asked you to live with him.

Once you’d gotten over your initial euphoria however a problem seemed instantly to present itself. That problem being that you were absolutely terrified of the Winery after dark.

I mean, who wouldn’t be? It was an old building, old enough for servants to whisper about lights that turned on without prompting, about footsteps coming down the empty halls, about people of old stepping out of their portraits and dancing the night away. It was absolutely terrifying to you, who already looked upon the dark with no little suspicion. And although the occasional night with Diluc was fine, you weren’t sure if you could deal with waiting in such a vast, creaking space alone.

But you didn’t want to tell Diluc that. Because though you were indeed a bit terrified, living with him did sound heavenly. It was something you dreamed of, and you didn’t want Diluc to come away with the wrong impression, the idea that you somehow thought he was being too familiar or going too fast. The thought of telling Diluc about your predicament never crossed your mind in the span of the conversation. After all it wasn’t as if he could do anything about it, he couldn’t very well redo the entire winery. Besides, it was such a silly fear, telling him about it would feel like you were making a mountain out of a molehill.

Eventually your mind settled on an answer: dragging the matter out. Professing your happiness at the idea you told him that it would require some mulling over, not to mention the paperwork in regards to the apartment you were currently living in. Diluc took it all with perfect understanding, assuring you that he could wait. “Besides,” he’d said, “what’s a little while when compared to the rest of our lives?” You’d blushed profusely at that, burying your face in Diluc’s neck. Yes, it would be alright in the end. And with that you pushed it out of your mind.

For the time being.

Although Diluc had many virtues patience was – perhaps surprisingly – not among them. Not more than three days had passed before he mentioned it again. Not that you were unhappy about it, no it wasn’t that. Nor did you feel pressured by him, you certainly didn’t. It was just the question of the Winery itself, and the fear that hung over your head like a sword. Just some time, a little more time.

The days turned into weeks, then almost a whole month, the whole time being wrapped up in your little song and dance. Diluc was evidently feeling dejected, but though you felt more than a little guilty about the whole matter, you still continued stalling.

Finally though things came to a head.

“My dear I understand if you don’t want to move in, but please just tell me!” Diluc burst out, voice dripping with frustration. “I understand if this is going too fast, I understand if you’re overwhelmed, I understand if you realize you’re not ready. But you must tell me, you must tell me what you’re thinking or else I’ll never be able to put this at rest.”

“It’s not that.” You assured him, shaking your head violently.

“Then what is it?” Your reply stuck in your mouth at his question. Why had it come to this? Conflicting emotions rose inside you, but all of them pointed towards one thing. You needed to tell him the truth. You needed to, or else this was going to turn into one of the stupidest rows you’d ever participated in.

“I… I’m afraid of the dark.” You replied softly, voice petering out to be no more than a whisper. Immediately the look of exasperation on Diluc’s face was replaced by one of concern.

“My dear?”

“I’m afraid of the dark,” you replied, this time with more force, “I’m afraid of the dark and I’m really afraid of the Winery after dark. So that’s why I’ve been putting it off. Not because I don’t want to move in, not because I think this is going too fast, but because the Winery makes me uncomfortable after dark. It’s so creaky and open and old and while that might be charming in the daytime, at night I feel like someone’s watching me.” You hugged yourself slightly, the image placed vividly in your mind. Yes, you did feel like you were being watched. Everywhere you turned you were surrounded by the eyes of those who were long gone, and it frightened you, how terribly it frightened you.

Diluc closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping you in his embrace. You reciprocated immediately, inhaling deeply, comforted by his presence.

“I’m sorry my dear, I didn’t know. If I had I’d have never proposed it.”

“You couldn’t’ve known,” your voice was slightly muffled by his jacket, “besides, I didn’t want to tell you. Because I knew you couldn’t do anything about it.” Lifting your head up you gazed at Diluc, who cupped your face with his hand.

“You don’t have to move in my dear.” Diluc’s voice was soft but firm, there was nothing but sympathy and encouragement in it. You smiled softly, leaning into the palm of his hand.

“But I want to. That’s the problem Diluc, I desperately want to move in. And yet I don’t know what to do. I can’t have you hanging around me each night. You’re the Darknight Hero. I cannot expect you to give that up for me. Even if you said you would I wouldn’t let you. I know how much it matters to you.”

There was a pause before Diluc spoke again. “Then let me suggest this. We see ways that we might accommodate. Perhaps a night lamp or some such thing. Or perhaps I need to pay more attention to the structure of the Winery. We’ll see what we can do together, and if nothing can be solved then we’ll find another way. Is that alright, my dear?”

“That sounds lovely.” You replied, finally smiling in earnest. What did you do to deserve such a human in your life? It felt like too much sometimes. You were experiencing such happiness as you seldom had before, not to such a degree. And you cherished it with all your heart.

It was the evening. You two were getting ready for the night, you preparing to go home, Diluc preparing for the task ahead of him.

“You spoil me terribly, you know.” You said, planting a quick kiss on Diluc’s cheek. Diluc smiled slightly mischievously, leaning down to give you a proper kiss.

“I don’t spoil you.” He finally replied, expression softening to one of fondness. “And if there was anyone in the world worth spoiling it’s you. I love you my dear, I’d do anything for you.”

“And I for you.” Your reply was soft, you yourself overcome by the love you felt.

It’d be alright in the end. If you knew anything, you knew that. It’d be alright. Because you’d have the one you loved most in the world with you every step.

#this title is so pompous...#the other option was 'irrational'#Blatant wish fulfillment when it comes to wearing albedo’s coat #Also is Diluc’s too rushed?#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #albedo #childe #diluc #albedo x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #scenarios #my writing

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marvelatthetwilight · 3 years

Text

Found in Forks

A/N: A quick one. To satisfy an Emmett shaped need in this story.

Y/N’s POV

Months had passed since we had declared our love, solidifying my bond with Paul. We were inseparable. I couldn’t bear to spend time without him, and even in his company, I NEEDED to be as close to him as possible.

When the pack were discussing the threat of the newborn army I couldn’t help my nerves from making my legs shake, my foot tapping against the leg of the table. Paul reached over and squeezed my hand. He gave me a look that said it’ll be ok. I was desperate to believe that was true.

“We are meeting the Cullens in an hour to train.” Sam said after hanging up the phone to Carlisle.

I felt Paul shake with anger beside me and a growl left his lips. “Why do we need to train, we’ve hunted bloodsuckers before?” He said, whilst I curled up against him to dissipate his anger, he wrapped his arm around me and kissed the top of my head.

“Carlisle said this will be different, we need to trust them right now Paul. This threat isn’t just for them, we need to protect the reservation” the pack nodded at this and Paul didn’t press any further.

Everyone split off after this, with Quil and Embry heading off on patrol, agreeing to meet in the field in an hour. I turn in my seat to look Paul in the eye. “I want to come to training.”

Paul laughs, then sees the serious look in my eye and shakes his head. “Nope, not happening. I’m not putting you at risk by taking you to the bloodsuckers. That’s ridiculous.”

I place a hand on either side of his face and look deep into his eyes.

“I need this. I need to see that you will be ok. If I see you train it’ll make me feel better, help me to visualise you winning. Please Paul.” I try my best puppy dog eyes that I know he can’t refuse and he huffs in reply.

“Fine. But you will NOT be leaving my side, promise?”

“As if I ever would.” I reply and he pulls me tight towards him, kissing my forehead.

“I love you Y/N” he looks down at me, his eyes now softer.

“And I love you” I smile up at him and kiss him softly on the lips.

~~~

We had made it to the agreed field, with the Cullens already standing waiting. I could see Bella who Jacob always talking about was standing there too, recognising her from school, so I’m not the only human here. I send a small wave and a smile in her direction and she waved back, surprised to see me with the pack. Edward whispers something to her and she nods in understanding.

I slide off of Paul’s back once we come to a stop, and he gestures for me to take a seat in the grass. He lays down beside me once I am seated.

I look across at the Cullens, my first opportunity to see the whole family, having only seen the “children” briefly at school before.

Your eyes land on Emmett. You remember him from school, sitting in the cafeteria with the other Cullens, and you are reminded how much he looks like your dad and your grandpa. The similarities are uncanny. Images of your dad and your grandpa flash in your head as you compare them to the cold one you see in front of you. Weird.

You glance away and see Edward staring at you, a look of realisation on his face. Paul growls from beside you and you stroke the fur around his face before leaning your head against him. “Oh be quiet Paul, he’s doing nothing wrong” you whisper to him. He huffs before turning his attention to Carlisle, who begins to address the pack.

“Welcome, Jasper has experience with the newborns, and will teach us how to defeat them.”

Paul nods slightly beside you.

“They want to know how the newborns differ from us” Edward says as he reads the packs’ minds, Paul had told you about the gifts they possessed on your way to the meeting.

“They’re a great deal stronger than us because their own human blood lingers in their tissues. Our kind is never more physically powerful than in our first several months of this life” Carlisle explains. You shudder at this thought, fearful for your friends and Paul. As if sensing this he leans towards you, and your body relaxes with the contact.

Jasper steps forward, and addresses the pack. “A newborn army doesn’t need thousands like a human army. But no human army can stand against them. Now the two most important things to remember are; first, never let them get their arms around you, they’ll crush you instantly. The second, never go for the obvious kill, they’ll be expecting that, and you will lose.”

The Cullens begin to demonstrate fighting, as Jasper narrates, advising the pack on what to do, or what not to do in some cases.

As the training comes to an end, Jared and Paul head off for patrol, Embry and Quill promising to get you back to Emily’s safely as they wait for you to finish talking to Bella.

“I’m so sorry the pack need to be involved Y/N.” Bella says quietly, an apologetic look on her face.

“The threat is a risk to everyone, including the reservation, they would help whether you ask them to or not, it’s just what they’re like.” You say with a smile as you watch Embry and Quil practise some techniques with Jasper.

“Y/N” Edward joins Bella, an arm quickly wrapped around her, pulling her close to his side.

“Edward, nice to see you again.” You were briefly lab partners a couple of years ago and you always appreciated how little he talked, no awkward small talk, unlike some of your peers. Little did you know that he also appreciated working with you, your mind was never filled with the inane gossip of your classmates.

“I don’t know if Paul has told you, but I can...hear people’s thoughts. I didn’t want to alarm you but I need to talk to you about something you thought about when you first got here” you nodded slowly, trying to remember what you had thought about.

“Erm...ok? I can’t remember what it was though?”

“It was when you were looking at Emmett, you thought he showed some similarity to some family members?” He motions for Emmett to join them.

“I’ve always thought it, but dismissed it before as it was ridiculous. He looks exactly like my dad and my grandpa, I’m sure my grandma has some photos of my grandpa when he was younger in one of her photo albums and he looks identical”.

Emmett appears at Edward’s side just as you finish talking. He frowns slightly and then asks; “where are your family from Y/N?”

“Erm...well my dad was born here in Forks but my grandpa was from Tennessee...Gatlinburg I think my grandma said.”

Emmett’s eyebrows dart up in shock and shortly after Edward’s expression changes to shocked too. Emmett walks closer, not worrying about the distracted wolves.

“What was your grandpa’s name Y/N?”

“Ernest Y/L/N”

Emmett smiles a big smile, and turns to Edward, then motions for Rosalie to join them. He squeezes Rosalie’s hand, excitement showing on his face.

“Y/N, I think your grandpa was my nephew. My older sister Mary was his mother, Mary Y/L/N. That makes me your great-great uncle!”

You laugh at this, moving forward to hug Emmett, he picks you up, wrapping his large arms around you. This draws attention from Embry and Quil, who quickly realised that Paul would destroy them if anything happened to you. They move forward quickly, as if they are going to attack before Edward steps in front of you and Emmett trying to explain.

“They’ve just discovered they’re related, it’s a hug! He isn’t attacking her.”

The wolves look at each other, then back at you as Emmett sets you back on the ground.

“I’m fine guys, just happy!”

You turn your attention back to Emmett as he speaks again, “when I died I worried about my family a lot, I was the only son, I was strong and provided for them when my dad got too old. I left them some money, but after we moved away I never found out what happened. Now I know!”

You smile at this. “My grandpa always used to tell us stories about his uncle when we were younger, he was wild, he used to say, really strong, and an amazing hunter. He said they were all devastated when you were eaten by a bear...”

Emmett looks sad at this.

“Were they ok though, how did Ernest end up here?”

“I’m not really sure, but my grandpa owned a hunting shop just outside of Forks, they were comfortable I think. My dad is a lawyer, based out of Seattle during the week, then he comes home to Forks at the weekends. My grandpa saved up to put dad through school, he was so proud of him.”

A smile returns to Emmett’s face, as he thinks about his nephew, hard working like him, providing for his family.

Rosalie walks over and wraps an arm around his waist. “So all these years of wondering, wanting to go back to Tennessee to try and find them and you’ve found your family in Forks?”

“Looks like it babe!” He ruffles your hair as he speaks and you try to swat his arm away.

“I’m so happy to meet you Y/N, I’ve spent years wondering, and now I know.” You smile at your great-great uncle, wishing you could tell your family. Edward heard this and walks to your side, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“You are welcome to our house anytime, you’re part of the family now...with...er...wolf bodyguards of course” he adds as he glances to the wolves growling behind you.

You laugh as you look at the wolves, then back at the Cullens. I’m so lucky to have found so many people to call family.

Taglist:

@volturidoll13 @clearwater-hoe @like-rain-or-confetti @teampaul @fatiguing-thoughts @wallwriterstuff @moviequeen51 @awesomebooklover17 @cncogirl18 @megzdoodle

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #twilight #twilight imagines #twilight x reader #Emmett Cullen

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Note

Hi lovely Elle! Congratulations on your milestone, my friend! I’m so excited for you; your writing is always absolutely immaculate and makes my heart sing, and your compassion and integrity shine through every single thing you produce. I can’t wait to see what you create next! For the celebration, may I please request something with my favourite, Rex? For the soulmate AU, I’d be happy with whichever one you feel works best (I don’t know very much about them sorry 🙈) thank you my love and congrats again! x

hello my dear! such high praise, especially from someone as lovely and talented as you! I definitely used this as an excuse to watch videos of Rex being... Rex, since I havent written him before 😌 and obviously now I'm swooning so

I hope you enjoy!

warnings: cannon-typical angst / violence, yearning, fluff, elle writing yet another new character

soulmate requests / follower celebration

Clones did get to see colors. Not really, anyway, just the muted, modulated ones their buckets provided - not the ones that brought grown men to their knees.

The ones that made elation run through a person's veins and completion paint the world in light.

The soulmate colors.

Clones didnt get to see them, because clones weren't supposed have soulmates. Why would they? Their very existence was specifically curated not to encourage them to find themselves, not to go on adventures, or develop dreams, and certainly not to fall in love.

Still, when he stood at the corner of the mess hall, and watched his brothers quarrel and laugh, with their uncontrollable hair and skin spattered with scars, Rex wondered.

Because the more time he spent, the more he saw new painted patterns and heard annoying inside jokes, the more he thought somewhere in all those calculations, they got it wrong. They were individuals, they went on adventures, and had different dreams.

So, like scuffs collecting on shiny plastoid armor, a new determination scratched a mark somewhere deep inside him. If his brothers could be and do all that they already had? Love, even, was not quite so unrealistic.

He didnt talk about colors much - none of them did, and he of all people rarely had the time. But he thought about them more than he should, ached for them during quiet nights alone in his bunk.

The feeling was frusterating, something unreasonable to share, impossible to explain, so as time flew on, he learned to bury it. It felt like a lifetime ago when he learned to guard his mind and control his thoughts around his jedi generals. Still, there was a time when he - his friend and jedi - had been distracted, gazing into his certain someone's eyes, that Rex had watched. And just for a moment, his mind had slipped.

Another scratch in his chest, wanting - wanting - what? Just someone to look at, to really see, and... someone who would see him, too. That's all he wanted. It was a selfish thought, hot and fierce, seering his careful facade, branding another scuff before he could shake it away.

When he first saw you, even through his aging helmet, you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

You were walking, talking to someone, not relevant to his mission, but important and he wanted to walk after you, to be the one you were talking to, but... then you were gone.

Someone else asked who you were and he felt suddenly possessive, a strange feeling immediately followed by confusion. It was an illogical response, by all accounts, you had never even met before.

And then someone else answered - a trusted friend of Senator Amidala's, and he felt relief, that he hadn't been forced to choose looking foolish by asking or the much worse option: not knowing.

And it was another illogical response.

Weeks went by, stealing glimpses of you floating through the hall, and pondering his responses in his meager free time. Was there a reason he wanted to smooth the line between your brows? Or have his arm be the one you tucked your hands into as you climbed the stairs in your heavy robes?

There shouldnt have been. But when you appeared in front of him, your lovely eyes wide and thoughtful, here shouldnt have been a reason his brain short circuited, either. But it did - images of you appeared before him: you kissing his cheek lashes fluttering as you made him promise to stay alive, your head against his chest plate as your breaths thickened with peace and his own were full of pride. You, gasping his name as your hands grasped desperately against his skin, holding onto him as he took you for his and his alone.

Rex had never been quite so dysfunctional in his entire life. But before he could collect himself, you ducked your head and ran.

There were conversations Rex had never indulged before, at the bar, or between his brothers whenever they had a moment. Conversations about love and colors and... soulmates. And it had seemed selfish to listen, selfish to participate, like it would only add to his ache, and steal from his duty. Until you.

Each time he turned to see you watching him, before your eyes would widen guiltily and you'd turn your head in embarrassment, his resolve slipped away. He was already indulging, by stealing his own glances at you, and through the intentness at which he listened beyond your educated opinions for your laugh.

And when you tripped, walking quickly through a corridor opposite of him, and grabbed his arm, holding him like he could keep you steady, it snapped.

Then those conversations became like water - they were everywhere and he craved them like he needed it to survive.

"What, really?" As always, he tried to seem only politely interested.

"Honest, we only talk for a bit -"

"And admittedly he'd been drinking, but -"

"Yeah, they seemed in love. Way more than just fucking, he was acting stupid and happy."

"It was nice, you know? A vod looking like a normal dude -"

"- kept kissing and -"

" - talking about colors - "

Rex nodded and slipped away.

After long missions, his muscles would ache with scrapes and bruises, but he always told the shinies it prepared himself for the next one. He was done collecting aches - he wanted it. Soulmates or not, he wanted you.

The opportunity came sooner than expected, in long moments after a meeting had dissolved sooner than expected.

The two of you were left alone looking over a projection, and the convenience spurred his bravery.

"You do well, with all those idiots." Brave, certainly, but smooth? Not as much. You looked surprised and pleased at his praise, and pride shot through him.

"Thank you, I..." You glanced at him, and he watched your eyes trace over his marks, along the lines of his armor and then into his visor. Hands fiddling with a little dark grey pendant around your neck, you seemed like you were building courage.

"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you."

His head tilted. You had been avoiding... him? Him, specifically? Maybe Rex shouldve felt upset, but the definitive proof that you knew who he was, lit his whole body on fire.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"You're so admirable! And capable and," you turned away, shoulders raising a bit as you confessed - "and there's something about you that's just..."

He'd never wanted someone to finish a sentence more. It seemed impossible how much he ached for you, how right you seemed for him, how it seemed like maybe you agreed, but he had defied a world of impossibilities.

"I didnt want to seem too eager," your voice was but a whisper. Hope fueled his heat, filling his armor until it felt too much to bear.

Pulling off his helmet, Rex reached for you, saying, "You couldn't -" before his words cut off.

You looking him face to face and his whole world changed in a single moment.

"- Mesh'la."

The pendant was... a color that matched the way rain felt, and the paint on his armour, brighter than he'd thought. You were his.

And you were wearing it, looking like a dream, staring at him like you'd never seen a man like him before. And... you hadnt.

As he grabbed your hands, and your fingers fit inbetween his own, Rex knew you hadn't. Because he as in color, and he was yours.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk @saradika @zinzinina

#🙃#rex x reader #soulmate requests #zinzinina #maybe i dont know people #elle only posts soulmate rqs at weird hours thats the rule #captain rex #star wars

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holylulusworld · 3 years

Text

Desperate Souls (4)

Summary: Six years later you and Sam are still a thing.

Pairing: Sam x Reader, former Soulless!Sam x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester

Warnings: angst, talking about prostitution, dom/sub undertones, angry Sam, hurt & comfort, vulnerable reader, soft Sam, fluff, cuddling & snuggling, jealous reader, implied smut

A/N: A short epilogue to see what happened to Sam and his girl.

<< Part 3

Divider by @firefly-graphics

“But Dean said it’s a good idea,” you argue, fighting Sam’s hold on your wrist. “He said that I should distract the Deputy, no flirt with him to distract him. This way your brother could sneak into the office and get the needed information.”

“Oh, is my brother suddenly your boyfriend?” Sam growls eyes narrowed a little. You swallow thickly, feeling your heartbeat quicken when Sam looks at you like he’s ready to devour you.

“N-no Sam but I wanted to help out,” whimpering you feel his large hands grip your upper arms to push you against the nearby wall. “Sam…please.”

“You’re my girlfriend, mine,” possessively claiming your lips Sam growls against you. “Maybe you forgot your place. Or do you want to go back to being a prostitute? Selling you so easily to someone else to get the result my brother wants sounds like prostitution to me,” hurt you look away, sniffle silently as Sam steps away from you. “I told you that your job is to do research, nothing else.”

“I didn’t let him touch me,” running out of the library you sniffle, wiping your eyes angrily. “I wanted to help out.”

For the first time since you joined the brothers on hunts, you had the feeling you did something useful to help them and now Sam is mad.

“Sam, it was my fault. I saw the way that douche eyed your girl, and thought-“ Sam raises his hand, angrily clenching his jaw. “I get it, she’s your girl and I messed up. But don’t blame her for my mistake. Y/N only wanted to help me out.”

“Y/N could’ve gotten hurt,” Sam whispers, feeling his chest tightening at the thought he could lose you. “She’s my girlfriend and you risked her life. What if the Deputy was the guy killing all the girls? Did you think about the consequences of your doing?”

“I was with her all the time-“ Dean talks back, cursing as Sam turns his back on him, shaking his head. “Sam, I would never let anything happen to Y/N. You know that.”

“I know but we also lost people we tried to keep safe! Charlie, Bobby, Kevin and so on, Dean. Sarah Blake died right in front of us while we tried to save her,” furious Sam turns around to glare at his brother. “And don’t tell me we tried anything, I know we did but things went wrong, and she died. A mother died and we were helpless. I don’t want to lose Y/N.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry,” nervously rubbing the back of his neck Dean sighs. “Just don’t ignore the poor girl. She longs to have your attention and love. Don’t take this away from her.”

“I know how to handle my girlfriend,” Sam growls. “I’m with her for six years and know she needs my attention and care. But,” he smirks now, something dark in his eyes, “she needs a strong hand and punishment tonight. I could see it in her eyes. Y/N needs to hear me praise and me to punish her.”

“I could’ve happily lived without knowing about your girl’s preferences in the bedroom,” Dean mutters. “Stop talking about your sex life with me.”

“It’s our dynamic, Dean. Y/N needs me to be her dominant tonight, not her caring boyfriend. I’ll make her feel good right now,” Sam walks away, leaves a shuddering Dean behind.

“Too much information, Sammy!”

While you look around the room, unsure if Sam still wants you around you gnaw at your index finger. You’ve got no clue where you can go if Sam kicks you out of your shared home.

Dean is a friend, and you consider him family but he’s Sam’s brother and would never choose your side, even though it was his fault you got into a fight with his brother.

“Kitten, I want you on the edge of our bed, naked, hands behind your back and eyes on me in ten,” Sam walks into the room, exhaling dominance. “Kneel and show me what a good girl you can be.”

“Yes, Sir,” you immediately get off the bed to strip your clothes off. Slow to give Sam a good show. You can feel his gaze on and shiver as he hums in appreciation. All you want is for Sam to not be mad at you.

“You’re so pretty for me,” he husks, fingers sliding over your back, causing you to whimper. “Always so beautiful and warm,” his lips meet your skin, force tiny gasps out of your throat. “I changed my mind. I want you on hands and knees, face in the cushions for me.”

“Yes, Sam…Sir,” you moan feeling his slender fingers slide over your chest to pinch your nipples roughly. “All for you.”

“Good girl,” another whimper leaves your lips, and you feel warm, drifting toward the headspace you are seeking since you and Sam fought. “Now do as I said.”

“I’ll do anything to make it up to you, Sir,” you bite your lip, looking up at Sam with teary eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Baby girl,” Sam’s postures changes in a split-second. He drops the silky scarf he wanted to use to fixate your hands, to bring you in his arms. “Y/N, I’m not mad at you.” he kisses your hair softly at the same time as his large hand runs over your exposed back. “Please don’t think I’m mad at you.”

“But-and-then-and,” you sniffle, face hidden in Sam’s chest to inhale his scent. “I don’t want to lose you, Sam. You’re all I’ve got.”

“Shhh, baby,” he carefully picks you up to hold you in his arms, smiling when you wrap your body around him. “We won’t do this tonight. I only want to hold you in my arms. I was so worried something could have happened to you.”

“Dean, he protected me, but I understand you worry about me. I’m not a hunter and can barely fight you or Dean.”

“Aw, my cute girl believes she can fight me,” Sam laughs when you whip your head to meet his gaze, holding it, a pout on your lips. “What I wanted to say is, that you don’t have to defend yourself, I’ll always protect you. Promise me you’ll never risk your life again.”

“Promised,” pecking Sam’s cheek you giggle when one hand starts to wander toward your ass. “Sam, I love your hands on me.” you moan.

“Guys! Are you naked or can I come in? Uh-erm,” Dean stammers, “Jody called. She and Donna could need our help with a case. Only if you are up to it, Sammy.”

“Another case,” you gasp feeling Sam’s lips on yours to greedily kiss you. “Aw, no sex then.”

“We will have so much sex after that case you’ll walk funny for a week,” he grins, eyes drifting toward the anti-possession tattoo on your chest. His name stands next to it and he smiles, remembering the way you clawed at his hand when you got it. “Make it a month.”

“A month,” giggling you look at Sam, giving him a firm nod. “Noted, Sir.” you husk against his lips. “Now get dressed and save the day, my hero…”

“I hate this,” you whine, looking at Dean who gives you an apologetic smile. “Why must it be Sam? Why didn’t you flirt with that woman to get information? Now he’s running late. What if he finds her more attractive, smarter, or simply desirable?”

“Sweetheart, you are more to my brother than a pretty face. You know that Y/N,” Dean tries to calm you but does the opposite. “Stop pacing around the room.”

You clasp and your hands together, groaning as you can’t get the image of Sam and the doctor out of your head. She dared to touch his bicep and now, well now you are too nervous to sit still.

“I know he loves me but-“ you bite your lower lip, suckling at it, “Sam is an extremely attractive man, a smart one. Every woman we met is whether all over you or my Sam.”

“Your Sam – huh?” Sam smirks when you look at him with wide eyes the moment he steps into the motel room. “When did you make me yours? And why didn’t I know about it?”

“It’s just you know,” trailing off you watch Sam loosen his tie. “Something people in a relationship say.”

“Good, you’re back. Sammy, never leave with another woman or Y/N will lose her mind. She was chewing my ear off,” Dean snickers when you shoot him a disapproving look. “It’s true, sweetheart. You almost murdered me for not hitting on the doctor.”

“Now you know how I felt when you flirted with that douche to get information for us. I don’t want to see you with other men either, baby girl,” Sam holds out his arms, smiling when you immediately let him wrap you in a hug. “Nothing happened, Y/N. And nothing will ever happen with another woman.”

“That’s not fair,” you whine, snuggling into Sam’s warm chest. “You’re always so warm and I got cold feet and hands.”

“My little frostbite,” Sam pecks your hair, while one large hand caresses your back, tickling your skin. “I guess you must always stay close to me. Not just at the bunker so I can keep your warm and safe.”

“I was jealous when you went out with that doctor. She was so pretty and smart, I feared you could fall for her, Sam,” you admit, sighing when Sam pinches your ass.

“Why?” he smirks when you lift your head to meet his hazel eyes. “I got a perfect girl by my side. She’s cute, a little crazy and I can bend her to my will with my hands.” he purrs the last words, eyes three shades darker when you start to squirm on top of him.

“Sam,” you move one hand over his bare chest, and he shivers at your touch. “Do you want to scare your big brother for a lifetime? Pay him back for telling me to flirt with the Deputy, Sir?”

“Hell…yeah…”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx

@screechingartisancashbailiff

@fallen-wolf22

@sister-winchesters99

@mogaruke

@the-is13

@helloitsmeamie203

@sandlee44

@strayrosesbloom

@notyourtypicalrose

@thewinchesterco

@marvelfansworld

@hobby27

@gh0stgurl

@flamencodiva

@jay-and-dean

@valsworldofcreativity

@h-o-l-l-i

@dayasvalkyrie

@wittysunflower

@supernaturalenchanted

@shikshinkwon

@yolobloggers

@hhiggs

@laxe-chester67

@ilovefanfic86

@linki-locks11

@eggingamazinglove

@trumpettay

@fandom-imagines1

@waywardbaby

@straycuties9

@drakelover78

@stuckys-whore

@zxph-yr

@i-love-superhero

@ten-tenya-iida

@deepmuffinspymaker

@katsav17

@heyitscam99

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@exo-nova

@echoesofpassion-blog-blog

@shatteredabby

@anaelsbrunette

@sea040561

@lemondropirwin

@lonewolf471

@wronglanemendes

@juniorhuntersam

@helpmeluci

@goodgodimaweirdperson

@shadowkat-83

@alltimesamantha

@officialmarvelwhore

@miraclesoflove

@maniacproffesor

@hollymac79

@kayla-2000-art-admirer

@gracefultrenchcoat494

@babygirls-fav

@spnwoman

@amiquette

@tornadochaserchick33

@geekofmanyforms

@jessica-marsh09

@spnficgirl

@shut-themoonscone

@thequeenreaders

@countrygal17a

@atomicfandombomb

@kteelou

@soryuwifeyxx

@defenderrosetyler

@shortwinchester

@maybesomedaygayyyy

@sabascio

@that-place-called-middle-earth

@bunnybaby89

@pandabiiissh

@maddiedott

@lilulo-12

@05supernatural20

@mblaqgi

@justsomedreaming

@cassiopeia-barrow

@its-the-timey-wimey-winchesters

@mscarter213

@jo-like-josette

@mep6811

@prettydeaneyes

@rvgrsbrns

@deanwanddamons

@tearsforhan

@waywardbabie

@certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel

@belovedcherry

@amandamdiehl

@sycochick

@abeautifuldiaster124

@matsumama

@homeorbust

@emoryhemsworth

@lunaticgurly

@spnbaby-67

@wonderlandfandomkingdom

@heartislubbingdubbing

@kitkatd7

@doctor-hp-mcu

@lovefromthewinchesters

@coffeebooksandfandom

@moosekateer13

@miss-nerd95

@caffeinefueledfangirl

@vicmc624

@mariaenchanted

@bxnnywriting

@lady-pswrld

@thinkaboutmara

@coldmuffinbanditshoe

@suckmyapplejacks

@princesssterek

@lexy586

@notbrooklynsblog

@xoxabs88xox

@doozywoozy

@moshymosh

@soccer-100000

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@wandering-spiritash

@jessiebean00

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

Sam/Jared Forever Tags

@moosekateer13

@thevelvetseries

@rintheemolion

@train-wrecc

@neii3n

#Desperate Souls 4 #Sam Winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #dom/sub undertones #angst

155 notes · View notes

beelzegrub · 3 years

Note

can I request what would happen if we summon them while we're on human realm bc we missed them so much but lose so much blood in the process I don't really know I'm a sucker for these kind of things. thank youu!!

EDIT FROM FUTURE OP: This ask has been sitting in my drafts for months half finished and I finally found the motivation to finish. Anon, I’m so sorry for the wait. You’re a sweetheart ❤️ I was only able to do the three eldest though and I’m so sorry!!

Um hello??? I love this so much thank you!!! I thought it was kind of silly to go through all of that at the end of season 2 to just.... not use it so I’m excited about this!!!! (Sorry if this is too angsty my brain got super pumped about this and took off.

PS the request said “we” so I used a reader insert type of style. Hope that’s what you were looking for :)

MC Summons Their Demon, but at What cost?

Trigger warning!!!! Self harm/blood

How long had it been since you’d seen the him? Weeks? Months? Who knows. They all blended together after while. All you knew is that it had been too long. Why was this all so tedious? Solomon had promised to teach you the summoning ritual as soon as you could handle it. Why hadn’t he done so? Did he not trust you? Was he purposely keeping you away from the them? Surely you were strong enough at this point. Enough with the waiting. You wouldn’t sit around and any longer! You needed to see them. You needed to see him.

You flipped messily through book after book. Solomon had given you many to study for your apprenticeship. There had to be something about summoning in one of these!

“Hmm..”

You carefully read through the worn pages of one of the larger and dustier tomes. Something about this one called to you. You zoned out as you took in the information on the pages, following context clues until you found what you were looking for. The images drawn on the page seemed foreign and surprised you. A summoning circle? You had expected as much, but the repeated mentions of ‘sacrifice’ and ‘blood oath’ seemed ancient and outdated. You couldn’t help but notice there was no mention of sentimental possessions of the demon you were trying to summon as well. You were sure none of the brothers would suggest a summoning if it were dangerous though...

Out of options and out of patience, you gathered your courage and set up the ritual to the best of your ability. Things seemed to match the books instructions, at least. All that was left was the blood. You stepped into the middle of the circle and closed brought a sewing needle to the top of your finger. The book hadn’t specified the amount of blood needed, but it was better to start small, you reasoned. You closed your eyes and pricked it, quickly squeezing a single drop of blood into the center of the circle, and said the name of the person you had been desperate to see.

Lucifer

The day of the summoning, Lucifer had felt this nagging sense of danger from the moment he opened his eyes. He was so sure it was one of his brothers about to cause trouble for him once again.

Lucifer spent the day preparing for the worst. Had Mammon stolen something of vast importance? Did Levi buy another piece of cursed media? Surely Beel hadn’t eaten a poisonous dish??

That evening, tired from being on edge all day, he had retired to his study, hoping some music would help calm his nerves. He settled into his chair and closed his eyes.

Then came the pull.

It had been ages since he had felt a sensation like this. When was the last time someone had tried to summon him? Hundreds of years ago, it had to be. And it never felt as strong as this force pulling him now.

There had once been a cult of devil worshipers who sacrificed many of their members for a chance to pull him to the human world, quite surprised to find out their sacrifices had been in vain, considering Lucifer wasn’t interested in a bunch of worthless humans. But even then the tug hadn’t been this strong. Sure, he could still resist it, but the strength of it still left him awestruck. Who had the power to call to him like this?

“Lucifer!”

His blood ran cold. Immediately, he stopped resisting the call and gave in, allowing the summoning to take place.

You had done it. Lucifer was here! The strongest and most fearsome of the seven, and you had Summoned him to you. Your heart swelled when you though of how impressed he’d be when he found out you had done it all on your own. Would he praise you? Would he tease you? Would he tilt his head and smirk, then ask you if you had really missed him that much?

You smiled softly, looking up at him. The look on his face wasn’t one of pride. His eyebrows had furrowed and a frown creased deep into his face. Was he angry at you? No... you had seen his anger many times. This wasn’t it.

“MC....what have you done?”

He cradled you softly in his arms. Wait. When had he picked you up? You looked at your surroundings, the fear in the pit of your stomach ever growing. Where had all this blood come from? You had only pricked your finger! Lucifer’s hand touched your cheek, pulling your face back to him.

“Don’t look.”

You had no choice but to obey. You simply didn’t have the strength to move anymore.

“I’ve called for help, it’ll be just a moment, MC. Just keep your eyes on me.”

Lucifer’s voice was soft and soothing, and you felt your tired body relax into his hold.

“I did it... I brought you here... I did it...” you closed your eyes, a smile on your lips.

“MC, keep your eyes open. Look at me. MC! MC!”

Mammon

That day had started out much the same as always. Mammon, still sore from last nights punishment, groaned as he slumped into his desk at RAD. He rested his head in his arms against the desk, and glanced at the seat that used to belong to you. Obviously, you weren’t there, but it didn’t hurt to check....

“MC is still in the human world, Mammon.”

Mammon jumped and sat up straight in his seat, his cheeks red from being caught.

“I know that Belphie! I was just-just uh zonin’ out! MC’s old seat just happened to be in the same direction!” He stuttered out an excuse.

“Just call them, Mammon. I’m sure MC would be happy to hear your voice.” Oh great, now Beel’s getting involved too. He knew his brothers meant no harm, but all this talk about MC was getting him riled up!

“Fine! I will! I’ll call MC tonight! and you two AREN’T invited!” Mammon laid his head down once again, this time hiding his face, not wanting his blush to show a second time. Tonight he’d finally hear MC’s voice again. And he could blame Beel and Belphie for the call!

Come dinner time, Mammon had just about run out of patience. His head kept telling him to wait just a bit longer, but something in his heart was yelling for him to quit dragging his feet.

“I’m going to my room and NOBODY better interrupt me, ya hear?!” Mammon stumbled to his feet and started marching to his room, six pairs of eyes staring at him questioningly. He only made it a few steps when he felt it. A tug. He closed his eyes and swayed on his feet, dizzy from the force of it. This was a summoning, wasn’t it? He had felt it plenty of times from those damn witches, but something about this was different. He turned around to look his brothers again, a look of confusion on his face.

“I...think I’m bein’ summoned.”

Levi snorted and crossed his arms. “I’m sure you’re guilty of something. Better just get it over with.”

The rest of the brothers mumbled in agreement.

Except Lucifer.

Lucifer quickly pushed out his chair and hurried to Mammon. Something was wrong. A simple summoning wouldn’t have this effect on a demon of Mammon’s stature.

The pull came once again, stronger this time. Mammon winced and held his hand to his aching head. Lucifer’s hand came down to rest on his shoulder

“I don’t know how long I can resist this. Somethin’ isn’t right. Lucifer, what’s happening to me?” He looked to his brother for help, and found the rest of them had gathered around as well, a look of concern on all of their faces.

“Someone call for Diavolo and Barbatos. Mammon, hold on just a few more moments.” Lucifer commanded.

Mammon would have agreed, if not for the voice that rang out clearly in his head, calling his name.

“Mammon!”

Mammon’s eyes snapped open and stopped resisting the pull, hearing the shouts from his brothers disappear as he followed the call.

“Mammon! Mammon! Mammon Mammon Mammon! Please!” You couldn’t keep this up for much longer, you knew it. You had fallen to your knees moments after the initial call. You could feel every drop of blood flowing out of the pin prick on your finger, but you didn’t dare give up. You had come this far, and you wouldn’t give up now. Not until you had to.

But you didn’t have to. A flash of light blinded you momentarily, and when you could see again, there he was. Standing there was the Mammon. Relief flushed through your entire body, and you stopped pouring your magic into the spell. Utterly exhausted, your body came crashing forward, landing in front of his feet.

Mammon quickly slid to his knees on the ground, picking you up off the floor and resting your head in his lap.

“You....Are you okay, MC?” Mammon tried to keep his voice even and steady, not wanting to scare you, but his hands that held too tightly and his body that quivered gave him away.

“I am now.” You answered quietly, unsure if it was true. At least Mammon was here and holding you in his arms. Things would be okay as long as he was with you.

“You...You idiot! Stupid! What the heck were ya thinkin’!? Can’t you see how much blood you’ve lost? This isn’t how you’re supposed to be summoning us! I’m gonna kill that damn sorcerer!” Mammon felt his blood boil with each second that passed. How Could Solomon have allowed this?

You softly squeezed his hand, not having the energy to yell for his attention. Immediately, he stopped, looking at you questioningly.

“Solomon didn’t teach me this. He wouldn’t. But.... I just couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to see you.” You answered.

He frowned deeply, more troubled with this answer. You had done all this just to see him? He felt a lump in his throat form. “I would have come to you. You didn’t have to do this.” He pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes to stop any tears from escaping.

You cupped his cheek, returning the affection he so rarely showed. “S’okay. All that matters is you’re here now. I just...need....to rest....a little...” Your eyes fluttered closed, feeling at peace and calm in your love’s arms.

Panic. Once again, Mammon’s eyes snapped open. He placed his hand over yours, trying to gently coax you into opening your eyes once more.

“Not yet, you can’t yet, MC. We have to wait for help to come. Come on, wake up.” He knew his brothers would come. Someone would come. They wouldn’t let this happen to you. He wouldn’t let this happen to you. “MC!” When gentle touches didn’t work, he got rougher, shaking you and yelling, desperate to see your eyes open.

“Enough playin’ around MC! Wake up! WAKE UP, DAMMIT! Wake... Wake up...You have to..... Wake up....”

Leviathan

To say that Levi was missing his MC was like saying humans like air. Is it true? Yeah, but kind of an understatement. Humans needed air to live and breathe, and in his eyes, you were air. It’s no secret that Levi wasn’t exactly popular. One might even say it was well known that he was a dorky loner demon, if they were feeling particularly sassy. Being a loner has it’s advantages, like having more time for gaming and anime binging, but it sure is, well, a lonely once you’ve had someone to share your passions with. And once that someone is gone, their absence weighs heavy.

So yes, Levi was missing MC. So what? Everyone was missing MC. Why wouldn’t they? His MC was a ray of sunshine in a world of darkness. Ugh. That line sounder way cooler when the hero in his latest otome had said it. Of course his thoughts couldn’t sound that cool. But that’s not the point! Levi figured he had no right to complain about MC being gone, because he was just a gross, annoying, worthless otaku. He didn’t deserve to miss them. He was lucky he got to spend as much time with them as he did, really.

But nobody could blame him for thinking these thoughts, right? Thinking about how much he missed the way MC would cram themselves as close to him as possible to get a look at whatever mobile game he was playing was harmless. So was remembering all the nights they’d spent binging anime and then realizing the sun was up, smiling sheepishly at each other and promising not to stay up so late next time, even though they always did. Okay, so maybe thinking about the way they looked when they were fresh out of his shower, smelling of his soap and shampoo was less than innocent, but what was he supposed to do!? Leaning your damp head on his shoulder and curling up close to him like that! Doing things like that is bad for an otaku’s heart! You might give them hope or something...

Enough was enough! He didn’t have time to be obsessing over how much he missed MC. It was taking time away from his one and only true love. “Ruri-Chan, you’d never abandon me right? No, I know you wouldn’t. You’re not like that.” Levi began speaking to his latest figure. “Not to say MC IS like that! No, of course their not! They didn’t have a choice!” He stuttered out a quick fix to his hurtful words. He was glad they weren’t around to hear, but it still felt wrong to say. He was quiet for a minute, staring at his floor in shame. Slowly, he lifted his eyes back to the figure. “Do you think they miss me like I miss them?”

And then he felt it. It had been so long, but he knew this feeling.This was a summoning, wasn’t it?! Based on the intense tug he felt, it had to be a super powerful sorcerer or maybe a group of basic magic users? Honestly, he was flattered. Someone wanted to summon HIM? No, They must have made a mistake. Surely this summon was meant for one of his brothers.

Leviathan was so lost in his own self pity he missed the first two calls of his name. The third one, sounding so desperate and pleading, snapped him out of his funk in an instant. He knew that voice. Without hesitation he let the summon take him, and there he was. He was finally reunited with MC.

But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. When he finally saw them again, he was supposed to feel elated and whole again, not like a piece of his heart was ripped right out of his chest. But when he locked eyes with them, surrounded by blood and their eyes looking glassy, that’s exactly what he felt.

“MC! Oh no. Oh no.”

Levi. He was here. He had to be. You heard his voice and felt his presence, felt his arms circle around you and cradle you tightly against his chest. But why couldn’t you see him? And why did you feel so… empty?

“Levi? That’s you isn’t it? Why is it so dark?” Had the candles all gone out? No, even before you lit them, you remember it hadn’t been this dark. Something was wrong.

Levi inhaled shakily, holding back the sobs he desperately wanted to release. “MC, what are you talking about? I’m right here! Can’t you see me?”

Like a bolt of lighting, the realization hit you. It wasn’t dark. The candles hadn’t gone out. It was your eyes.

“No, Levi. I can’t. I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.” You shakily reach your hand up, frantically feeling around for your love’s face. Leviathan’s usual timid nature word have normally had him reeling away, but in this moment, he had no reservations as he helped guide your hand to his cheek. His lips trembled as he fought the urge to scream.

“MC…. Why would you do this? You’ve lost so much blood… and.. and your sight? I’m not worth this. I’m just a useless otaku! It isn’t fair!” His tears began to flow, the guilt of it all was ripping him apart.

You closed your eyes and smiled as you remembered the many faces of this man you had called to you. “It was worth it. I did it because I love you, Levi. I need you. After all, what good is a Henry without his lord?”

#obey me #shall we date? obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #reader insert #tw self harm #tw sewing needle prick #tw blood #this was way to long winded I overdid it

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brellhal96 · 3 years

Text

It’s... pretty complicated

Summary: College dramas in the life of a third-year student who decides to start, not a relationship, but something with a renowned professor.

Okay the GIF is not very related to the subject, but this man dressed in black has me at his feet.

Notes: This is quite cliché actually, but what does it matter, it is worth dreaming. It is planned to be written in several chapters, so the first is mostly to give context to the story, I hope you like it.

I base myself on Loki's physique, although I will mention Tom Hiddleston as the star of the scene, but my perfect image is in the essence of Loki in a black suit.

I study a completely different area to numbers and physics, don't be rigorous with me on the subject, only I think it an excellent area to show Loki's personality, I do not know why.

I will show at the beginning of the series a somewhat possessive relationship, but with the outcome I promise to shape this. It should be noted that not in a toxic sense.

I didn't mention a specific university, country, or geographic location.ical location.

It's the first time I've written anything obscene, I hope you like it.

Precautions: 18+, mention of fear or anxiety, unprotected sex, a relationship at the beginning somewhat possessive.

CHAPTER 1

I NEVER SAID I WASN'T INTERESTED.

Notes: Okay this chapter is kind of weird honestly, I didn't really put so much emphasis on the obscene, but I feel like it ended up fine, I hope you like it.

Word count: 6389

You had gotten used to the hot weather of the beginning of the year, in fact you had always preferred that climate. You spent the summer with your parents on a beach, sometimes you missed them too much, but your father's job and the university of your dreams were right at the opposite ends of the country. The first year was quite complicated, but then you got used to living alone, you actually lived two blocks from campus so your bike was the perfect means of transportation.

You made some friends here, Jared had become your best friend, his bond of trust scared you a bit as you could tell him anything without fear, but it was quite comforting to have someone like that by your side.

You had earned a scholarship for academic excellence, your studies were your priority since you were a child and you loved that. The only unpleasant thing about this scholarship is that it restricted your choice of teachers in half of your subjects since you were supposed to be with “teachers of excellence”.

When you compared your subject strip to Jared and Diane, they only shared one class the three of them together, Diane another, and Jared two more. In the end you weren't going to be alone in all the classes so that calmed you a little, studying physics wasn't so complicated, it was easy for you, but socializing wasn't much for you.

You went to building C, your first class was analytical mechanics and later thermodynamics, the teacher in the second was assigned to you by the institute, a Doctor Hiddleston, you've never heard of him, you just hoped it wasn't a headache. Your mechanics teacher was a love and with the first class you knew it was going to be one of your favorite subjects.

When you finished you went to your other class, you sat right in the middle in the third row, several were in groups apparently with their friends from previous years. You took your computer and got ready to take notes. Suddenly the door closed tightly and everyone sat a little scared.

A very good-looking man came in, tall, thin and dressed completely in black, I honestly he caused you curiosity why for some reason you felt that you had seen him before.

Without seeing the class began to write on the board quickly "I am Professor Tom Hiddleston and I will teach the subject of Thermodynamics" His voice was strong and deep and you immediately recognized it. You frowned when you remembered last year's science fair, you won first place in the area of electromagnetism prototypes against a fourth-year kid, which made you feel completely proud, yet two of the judges had not been what we call nice to the two.

When you remembered Professor Hiddleston's deep look at you that day, the judges asked random questions to the fourth-year kid and you, but apparently your future thermodynamics teacher was one of those who enjoyed making students nervous with difficult questions. His sidekick on that occasion was your freshman professor, analytic geometry, Professor Scott Lawford a fucking genius, you had cried with his subject, but passed with an A +.

They both enjoyed seeing the nerves invading you and your opponent, whispering to each other with their answers. At one point Professor Hiddleston asked you and you remember perfectly well that when you finished speaking he only looked at you and smiled mockingly for then wrote something on his ballot. In the end you won by three points of the total vote and the fourth year boy, currently fifth, became your friend, both came to the same conclusion, the two teachers were crazy.

He began to write down on the board the evaluation and the issues that are always mentioned at the beginning of the year. For a moment you panicked when he wrote that one of the exams was oral, you could not imagine the martyrdom he would create just to get a passing grade.

He took 20 minutes to explain and let us out to start the next class with the course. When you came out unintentionally you stared at him while he was erasing the blackboard, but apparently your look was uncomfortable enough for him that for a second he turn and he stared at you, you rushed out of the classroom after that. When you told Jared about this future journey that you had to go through you felt immense despair, but then you remembered that, if you could the previous years with teachers equal or worse to him, this was only one step more.

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The first three weeks of class were pretty normal, you made two more friends and breakfast in the cafeteria with Jared and Diane made you forget about the pressures of school, but just the moment you felt like you were fitting in perfectly with your new year, the thermodynamics class became strange.

The classes with Tom were very pleasant, he was kinder than his body language showed, only he was certainly of a very volatile character, there were days when he seemed angry and others when he seemed happy, it was weird, but it was even weirder that you were attracted to him.

Your previous class had lasted longer than expected and the teacher extended 5 minutes out of her time which translates into being late for thermodynamics. You panicked when you saw the locked door of the classroom, wondered if it was better not to enter the class and pretend a headache straight to the infirmary, but in the end you breathed for a second and you'd decided get ready to knock the door.

“Can I help you with something?"You had never noticed that he was quite tall, it was the first time you were quite close to him.

"Sorry my mechanics teacher accidentally spread...”

"You were able to leave her class to get to mine on time, don't you think?"His gaze was quite penetrating up close.

“I really sorry, won't happen again,” Your hands were shaking, but in reality, not for fear, but his presence so formal, so rigid and secure made you feel strangely attracted to him, when you thought that, you actually invaded the shame, how do you fall in love of a teacher as strange as him.

He just opened the door and walked aside to let you through. "I asked them to work in pairs, look for your partner and ask him to explain what I already explain”

On the board were written several formulas, you wondered how he managed in 7 minutes to score so much.

You asked several guys over there, but apparently the whole damn world already had a partner, in the end you decided to do it alone, you just hoped he wouldn't flunk you for it. A girl explained the instructions to you, apparently you had to pick up one of the sheets that the professor had placed on the desk and solve it with the formulas on the blackboard, you even had to sit up to the top rows because all the other seats were occupied.

You started cursing internally while taking one of the paper sheets from the desk. "Who are you going to work with?"The professor asked you without seeing you while making notes with a rather nice pen of Indian ink.

"I'll do it alone, I already asked ... ”

"Don't you understand what couples are?"He interrupted you and this time he gave you a rather intimidating gaze.

"Yes, but apparently all my companions already have one and I figured I could do it alone then" Your hands trembled again with the paper sheet between them.

"Who doesn't have a partner?"he looked back at his papers and yelled at the whole group. It was pretty funny for you because he himself proved you were right, no one was missing a partner. When he looked up and saw that no one answered he saw you again and then looked at the blackboard behind his back.

"Well, I'll do it with you then" He got up and brought a chair that was at the end of the living room for you right next to his desk.

For a moment you wanted to run out of there, you knew you shouldn't make a mistake or say something stupid because otherwise you'd die trying.

"Get your stuff and start working it out, just let me finish a few things. To be fair with your colleagues and with you I will let you do it alone and answer any doubts you have, because obviously I know how this is solved, but I also consider that it is a lot of work for one person, do you agree?" His gaze became a little kinder.

"Yes, thank you,” you smiled faintly, but felt an internal shock as he winked at you and continued to write with his fine pen. You sat right in the corner of his desk, they were just three problems but they really left you with little desire to live. The first one, you felt was quite easy to solve, even at one point you felt the professor's gaze on you when you were so focused on your operations.

"Don't you have any doubts?"His eyebrows were puckered and his gaze was no longer mocking but rather with bona fide interests.

"No, not really, well I go in the second exercise, possibly I do" You smiled as you watched your operations with inner pride.

"Can I see?"He extended his hand to give him the leaves you had carried until then. You gave them to him, just hoping he'd tell you you had everything terribly wrong.

As he watched your leaves you watched him, he was quite attractive now that you saw him without fear that he would not let you into class, his hair was dark and apparently a lover of black to wear, his eyes were cute and quite tender while they examined your answers.

"Go on, I don't want to confuse you” He put the paper sheets on the desk and saw you with a small smile on your lips as a sign that you were on the right track.

Just 10 minutes before the class ended you finished all three exercises, you had only asked him one question and it was about whether it was a 4 or a 9 in a formula that wrote the board, so you felt pretty happy that you did it alone.

"Ready" You smiled broadly, you were the first to finish and the only one who had done it alone.

"Are you sure?”

"Yeah, well, I hope it's not a 0 at the end of the day,” you laughed to yourself, and in the end you wondered if you had thought about it or said it.

”Then let's see " took his pen and began to review your work. You froze when you saw that he framed something in your results, but he didn't tell you anything. "Well, I really didn't expect less from the winner of last year's science fair, maybe punctuality, but what does it matter”

You smiled when you saw that your grade was an A, only that he kept the papers, apparently he had to register them on his lists or something. Just as you were about to get up to leave, he asked you to stay at the end of class.

You sat back in the seats vacated by the peers that have already gone, but for a second, remembered what you said I didn't expected less from the winner of the science fair last year, he remembered you, you know that he remembered you, sonreíste for yourself when thinking that.

When the whole room was half empty, he started putting away his things. ”Come with me, " he said as he walked out with a firm and fast pace, so much so that you had to walk faster than normal. You wondered where they were going, it was pretty strange since you'd never been through the labs where it went.

“I've noticed that you're pretty good in the area, actually amazing, I even remember your answers about your prototype against the fourth year kid, former student of mine, you were much better than his” he opened the door of one of the labs and with his arm gave you a signal to enter.

“Thank you, I actually always dreamed of doing this, " you said as you walked into the lab, quite big, you assumed they were the ones that grad boys used.

"I want to propose you something” You sat at one of the practice tables and he leaned with both hands on his desk. "Would you like to work with me on a project I have?, is related to thermodynamics”

For a second you saw him with an expression of if he was joking with you or if he was serious and he seemed to read your mind.

"It's seriously, I'm working on a model related to the second law" he approached you sitting in the chair in front of yours.

"I would love to then, but I do not know how I could be of help”

"In many things" he smiled

For a moment you wondered why suddenly the man who seemed bitter about life was being so kind to you.

“You do not have to tell me your answer now, I will send you the files I have of my progress by mail if you like and you could think about it”

"Sure, I will" You smiled and he too, for a moment everything was silent, somewhat uncomfortable to be honest but his look no longer caused you fear, but somehow attracted you to him.

It was quite strange because they both got up at the same time so you were right next to him and his height difference was no small one.

"Well I think I have to go, I'll see you the next class”

"Wait, I wanted to give you something that I kept here," he went to the back cellar of the lab and came back with a bun that said first place. "I'm sorry, I was supposed to give it to you that day you won, but I honestly didn't remember where I left it, so this belongs to you.”

When you saw the bun with your name on it, you were very happy. "I thought they didn't give anything," you laughed as you put it in your backpack.

"Yeah, excuse me, I tend to be a little clueless about those things.”

"No problem," you smiled and shyly walked out of the room.

The weekend you started to question why Professor Hiddleston made you feel so nervous, now you knew that you were one of his star students, to the degree that you could be his future colleague, but why couldn't you even hold his gaze? you know, for a moment you thought about flatly refusing his project if you couldn't even see it in the eyes, but after you thought about it, you figured it would possibly be a good idea, you could even learn more things by being his apprentice.

It was Monday's class, you didn't know why, but you were in the lab on Friday, apparently you were doing an experiment on the tables with some microscopes on. ”You did it " There was Professor Hiddleston next to you, his command was on your waist and suddenly he began to approach you to kiss you on the lips and it was even stranger because it was quite nice for you, to reciprocate.

Right then you woke up, you're fucking in love with your thermodynamics professor, "Excellent Y / N, that's all that was missing."

Monday's class didn't even look him in the eye and you sat up to the top rows, you felt pretty uncomfortable with yourself thinking of a teacher that way.

"Y / N wait" Just when class ended you rushed to pack your things and run out of the classroom, but it still didn't work. "Did you think about what I told you?"The professor actually looked pretty excited about his own project.

"Yes, I just wondered if the meetings or the times we work could be on Fridays, that would make things a lot easier for me" You said without seeing the professor in the eyes, it was somewhat uncomfortable after that strange dream of the weekend.

"Sure, then it's a deal,” he held out his hand as if they were going to close the deal with a strong squeeze.

"Deal" You shook his hand and when you saw him you felt that his look was not only kind, but he was actually trying to tell you something.

The classes went on normally, you felt a little excited being sincere that you went to work with the professor who was now at the same time your impossible love, but you had to be careful for him not to notice. They agreed to meet after your last class at the lab on Fridays, at 15:00 hours. You knew it wasn't right, but from the moment you were attracted to the professor every time you saw him, you started using lip gloss and curling your hair.

For several weeks they worked on their project, now you understood their sudden mood swings, it was quite frustrating to feel that you had advanced in something and then realized that something did not fit with the rest of the procedure.

One Friday when you arrived he was making notes on the blackboard, had taken off his coat and tie and folded the sleeves of his shirt in a way that looked spectacularly attractive.

"Y / N pass," he smiled when he saw you in the driveway. "Did you read the documents I sent you?"On Wednesday he sent you a very interesting document about some theories related to the project.

"Yes, I just made some notes from some parts that I honestly didn't understand" You left your backpack in one of the buckets at the ends of the room " I'm not very good at some things”

"Neither do I, but don't worry,” he winked at you and you felt like you were melting internally.

For an hour they tried to solve one of the most difficult equations within the theory they chose, it was quite fun as sometimes you would collapse and sometimes he, but both tried to cheer up so as not to erase the whole slate of despair.

”Ready," you said when you finally managed to solve the equation.

”You did it!" saw the board quite surprised and so did you. "Your boyfriend is lucky" For a second he himself kept quiet knowing that the last thing he said wasn't quite right.

"Boyfriend? that species is extinct within my social radar" You laughed trying to keep him from feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." He saw you trying to analyze your expression.

"Well sometimes the unconscious makes us a bad move" You smiled broadly "besides I guess the lucky one is his girlfriend" you returned the same move trying to tempt the ground.

"It's also an extinct species to me," he smiled, but he avoid your gaze.

"Well, then we're free to go looking for it.”

"I thought you had a boyfriend," he said as he started writing the equation on the board on the computer.

"Why?"you sat at the desk, watching him write on the computer quite nervous.

"Nothing else" You knew he was lying to you.

"Nothing else?”

"Well you're a very cute and smart girl, I figured a lot of guys are interested in you.” He didn't even look you in the eye when he said that.

”I'm not really interested in anyone" You saw through the window as you answered" well, only in someone, but it's impossible” Oh God, now the unconscious had made the wrong move to you talking too much.

”Nothing is impossible" he looked up and seemed to know what you meant.

"Well, it's just that if I just had a sign I could know it's not impossible" You started fiddling with your wrist bracelet nervously.

"How what a sign?" he stopped writing and stood right in front of you, you were still sitting at the desk.

"I don't know" You felt the adrenaline start to accelerate your pulse as it approached you.

"A date, a kiss, or even invite you to work on a project?" He placed his hands on the edge of the desk rubbing your legs.

”Yes, that sounds good " Clearly you knew what he meant, his look and yours were fixed, you appreciated that the door was closed and it was the third level, the windows were facing nowhere, so no one could see what was happening.

"Well sometimes it is necessary that you also give signals, don't you think?" His gaze and yours really seemed to be completely fixed.

"Yeah, that sounds fair." You started breathing deeper.

Slowly, he tempting the ground, began to approach, for a moment you knew that this was not right, that it was not right, but fuck, your body wanted it as you have no idea. Slowly he started to kiss you, he was nice and actually a very good kisser, then he started to get a little rougher, but both you and he knew you wanted him, his arm held your hip and your hands hugged his neck holding on to him.

"Dr. Hiddleston, I bring the copies you ordered." Someone knocked on the door and immediately the feeling of running out overwhelmed you.

"Sure, I'm coming" saw you and he wiped the lip gloss you had left on him. You packed your stuff fast and when I was going to close the door again you walked out without seeing him in the face.

"Until Monday" You started walking fast.

"Y / N wait" was the last thing you heard when you started going down the stairs two at a time.

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You, Diane and Jared planned to go out that weekend, you weren't feeling well, but you also didn't want to leave them after you had planned this for days.

"Hey, you look pale," Jared saw you worried as they waited for food at the mall.

"Do you feel well Y/N?" Diane picked up a lock of your hair as you looked at nothingness.

”I'm a little worried," you said looking at the table now "Can I ask for some advice?”

”You know you can Y/N" Jared saw you even more worried.

"What should I do if I like someone I shouldn't like?" Dress up Jared.

"Does he have a girlfriend or is he a fuck boy?" Diane asked pretty quickly.

"None, it's just...”

”Then I see no reason why you shouldn't like it."

”It's not that, but, he's like, I don't know how to say this" You didn't want to tell them that he was your thermodynamics professor, you would never actually do it. "I met him some time ago in the cinema, he's cute and kind to me, but he's older than me” you lied a little about it.

"How much are we talking about?”

"14 years, I think" you've never actually asked him about his age, but on one occasion while you were typing on his computer you saw his college professor card that had all his data on it by the way.

”Look at that, my best friend a whole league men" Diane actually got excited, started asking you what he was like and if you had already had something with him which was pretty strange, but Jared's expression wasn't really emotional.

"I can only tell you to be very careful Y/N" Jared took your hand " Do not let the pretty words lead you down a path other than the one you seek. And well, if he like you and you like him, I see no problem”

The weekend you thought about the kiss his gave, it was quite nice really nice, you had only had three boyfriends before and honestly their kiss had been better than all the previous ones. The problem was what were you going to do on Monday when you see him? Well that day you decided to wear a pink dress that your mother given you at Christmas, you never wore this type of clothes so it was going to be something quite new, you combed your hair differently even, you knew that if you were at least going to talk to him and he told you that it was a mistake he would miss something great.

Your legs started shaking when you walked into the classsroom, you sat as usual in the third row, Tom wasn't there yet, so that calmed you down a little more. You noticed that in this class you had not made friends, so to avoid the panic of seeing him in the eyes when he entered in the classroom you preferred to start talking to the girl who always sat next to you.

"He took a while, didn't it?" you smiled so you didn't look crazy.

"Yes something, but for me no problem" the girl smiled as well

"My name is Y / N, and you?”

"Meghan, you're going with the teacher Fox in relativity, aren't you?”

"Yeah, you too?”

"No but my boyfriend does, I've seen you come out of there when I expect it”

"Well, I don't really know many people.”

"Well, college is exhausting," they both smiled, actually Meghan seemed like a pretty nice girl.

"Speaking of the king of Rome, he's arrive." When she said that and you heard the door shut, fear invaded you, so you didn't look at him. You just focused on your computer monitor, but you knew he saw you.

The class felt as if it had lasted 20 minutes and not an hour and a half, the desire to leave was enough.

"Hey if you want we could have breakfast together today, apparently you don't have class now either, do you?" Meghan waited for you to put your things away.

"Of course I would love to and no, I don't have class” You fully appreciated that Meghan will not leave you in the classroom, without looking at Tom you went out with your new friend, you felt that had been a bit cruel, but the nerves were worse.

At the end of the day you didn't do anything about it and neither did Wednesday and apparently Tom wasn't interested in asking you to stay and talk either, or so it seemed.

On Friday you returned to the usual routine with the usual clothes and hairstyle, honestly you no longer felt in the mood to waste time on those things. The class went on normally until at one point you crossed eyes with him, it was a bit strange, but you pretended you didn't care and ignored him after a few seconds. At the same time in the classes you talked with Meghan, even going out to eat the cafeteria.

"Y/N can we talk for a second?"Back to being alone with him in the classroom at the end, Meghan said goodbye and whispered you in your ear that she will waiting for you in the cafeteria.

"Hey I didn't want to overdo you, let alone bother you, I apologize for it and also if you no longer want to work on the project I will fully understand it” His face seemed that he was really sorry about last week.

"I really don't know what to say." You were completely honest.

"I'm sorry I should have known that you're not interested in me at all and it's okay”

"I never said I wasn't interested”

He calmly checked the hallway and closed the classroom door

"You ran away, that tells me otherwise”

"Yes, but that's was I panicked, I didn't want to bother you”

"For God's sake, that doesn't matter anymore.”

"It does matter and quite”

"You want to talk about this then?”

"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner”

"So am I, excuse me too” he hesitated for a second when he finally asked," Do you want to continue with the project?”

"Of course I do" You got a little closer to him.

"See you at 15: 00 then" He too approached and carefully kissed your hand to leave the classroom.

This time you arrived early, your teacher had let them out forty minutes earlier, so you decided to be somewhat punctual to your appointment. You read while you waited sitting on the chairs in the hallway, when you saw him come you smiled and he when saw you, smiled too.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you were going to arrive so early” he closed the door carefully and just as he turned around you gave him a pretty long kiss and he reciprocated broadly.

"I'm sorry" You saw that he was actually happy about it "I think last time we couldn't finish it"

He held your face in his hands for a few seconds "I like you Y/N, I know what's not right, I know this not right, but fuck, I like you a lot”

”And you me" He kissed you again, this time a little rough, it seemed that he wanted to make his statement clear. ”I really wanted to kiss you in front of everybody on Monday in that cute dress."

"If you like it I can bring it more days," you winked.

After that day working on the project was much more fun, and even in the classes they shared gazes from time to time, it felt good, had passed enough time that you did not date someone. On the other hand, sometimes fear invaded you, you knew that if anyone found out about whatever it was you and Tom had, it was the end of your scholarship and even your college life.

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"Do you like lobster?"He asked you while making notes on the computer and you cleaned the board.

"I've never eaten it"

“What? How can you live without eating lobster in your life?" He came up to you and, holding you by the waist, turned you towards him.

"Well, we're not all millionaires so I can't buy lobster." You inadvertently smeared chalk in his hair when you touched him.

"Then I'll buy you lobster dinner. What do you say?" He caressed your face as he waited for your answer

"Mmmm, when?”

"Tomorrow, I'd wait a few blocks from here, you don't want anyone to see you getting in my car, do you?”

"I'd love for them to, but yes, send me the instructions and I'll see you there then.”

"Why would you love it?"He kissed your neck calmly.

"That they might see that you are mine" You smiled mockingly.

"Well, I mean you're mine too, so it would be a fair deal.”

For weeks now both were texting, it was interesting to see that teachers also have a life apart from teaching.

You dressed up, not so formal or so casual for the occasion, it was the first date you had, it felt a little strange, you wore on a low-cut black dress, something daring for your tastes, but it was the most suitable thing you found. When you arrived at the rendezvous point, you immediately identified his car.

“I can't believe how perfect you are, " he gave you a sweet kiss while you fixed your skirt so it wouldn't wrinkle. He came as always very formal.

The dinner was perfect, you did not know that the lobster tasted that way, you liked it a lot, the place was beautiful, the waiters very attentive and well, talking with Tom about things that were not thermodynamics was pleasant. In the end he invited you to his apartment, which you sincerely hoped was not just with the intention of kissing you.

When they arrived his apartment looked like a palace, it was very nice, very cozy, his kitchen was comfortable enough to cook anything, your apartment was too small for a kitchen like him.

He told you that he should make some calls, that you could explore the house if you wanted and you took his word, it was very nice place, in the hallway to the bedroom had his medals and recognitions, you did not know that he studied chemistry too, he's a genius. When you finished walking, you looked in the fridge for something to drink.

"Want some wine?"Because of its height it was much easier to reach the shelves above where it seemed to have the bottles of wine.

”I would love to"

He served two glasses in half, it was red wine with a very good smell, you knew it because your father was a wine lover, so much so that he had even taken you to vineyards to see how they did it.

"May I?"You asked, pointing out if you could play something on the record player in the room.

“Clear”

When yo put the pen on the record a fairly quiet song began to play, he took the cup out of your hand and put it on the ledge next to his, placed his hand on your waist and with the other he held your hand, you placed yours on his neck.

“Would you laugh if I told you it's the first time I've danced with someone? well, that someone who is not my father invites me to dance”

"Really?”

"Yeah, well I had a boyfriend that I took out to dance, that's why it doesn't count,” you laughed as you remembered that.

"Well, what an idiot, you are beautiful Y/N and I will dance with you as many times as possible”

You felt a lot of peace in his arms, he was much stronger than you, that was clear, but even just seeing him in the eyes you felt that everything was going to be okay. You weren't very good at dancing, but he gave you the confidence to even make a mistake.

For a moment he began to kiss you slowly, slowly while the music echoed to both of us, then he began to kiss your neck which in a way tickled you, but at the same time made you want it with all your soul. After a few seconds as his hands ran through your hips and yours his hair whispered into his ear: "Take me to the bedroom" you stared at him and he understood completely.

He carried you so easily that it seemed that you did not weigh anything, carefully put you in bed and wait for you reaction.

"For God's sake, I want to make you mine from the moment I saw you at that fucking science fair contest.”

"Well now is your time" You bit your lip slightly.

He knew you were too small in comparison to him, so he was very careful when touch you, first he started by your dress, very slowly unbuttoning it. He look you in your underwear the moment he managed to take it off you. On the other hand, you, in a somewhat desperate way, started to take off his belt.

"No, until I say so" Their gaze turned a bit dark, they could see the desire for each other in your eyes.

He started kissing your crotch carefully, you moaned slightly, you had no intimate contact with anyone for a long time, so you somehow didn't remember how glorious this feels. He kept kissing getting closer to your entrance, the heat began to flood your body, after walking your thighs he began to lick your entrance a little desperate, but at the same time touching the exact points to make you see stars. He put two fingers inside you and immediately your back curled, when he entered the third in you pulled his hair as you began to feel the heat in your stomach increase more and more.

”Tom, please, I'm almost there" you moaned as your eyesight began to blur completely.

His fingers began to move faster and for an instant you felt like the heat flooded your whole body, it was the first time that someone managed to make you come with oral sex. You pulled his hair back, but it didn't seem to bother him, even taking it as a way to know where or not to continue. Your legs clenched at the feeling and he proudly began to undress. When you saw it you felt that you really needed to have he inside you, his axis was quite large, more than you imagined and its well worked body made you feel needed.

"Fuck me like there's no tomorrow," you whispered as you recovered from the first round.

You felt the desire going between your legs, again you were so wet just to imagine he inside you.

"You know that if I hurt you or if you want me to stop I will do it immediately” He placed on you and spread your legs with his knee.

You just nodded, he was staring at you as he began to insert his shaft into you, it hurt a bit, tears started running down your cheeks and Tom's face looked worried, "Do you want me to stop?”

"No!" To drown the groans you hid your face on his shoulder as he began to take a rhythm in his onslaught, at one point the pain ceased and he took a stronger rhythm, one after another, you felt as your body began to attach quite well to its axis, to the degree that you glued more your hips to his, demanding more. When he noticed it one of his hands took the headboard and with the other placed one of your legs on his shoulder to give you what you needed. At some point he also started moaning, loud and deep, which made you feel even more excited in the middle of it all.

”Fuck, why are you so perfect?" he whispered into your ear as you began to feel your orgasm was about to bloom.

"Make me yours, only yours" you moaned almost without strength.

"You are only mine" His onslaught, although it seemed that you could not, began to be faster and deeper, you knew that sitting was going to be a challenge for you in the following days.

To drown your groans he gave you a very deep kiss, his tongue did all the work in the kiss, honestly for you it was a sea of sensations that would end you unconscious of pleasure. Just as they both reached the climax he saw you in the eyes and felt you fade away in sobs and moans.

”I'm almost there" he said as he clung even more to you and your legs began to close with pleasure.

"Me too" Didn't know if you understood what you meant, but at least you were trying.

"Let me feel you" His words were your release and his, you felt the heat of his seed inside you and it was enough for your orgasm to reach the necessary point of feeling a deep warmth throughout your body. The veins on her neck were too marked and you could also feel her breathing so heavy as she enjoyed her release.

He was over you for several minutes, the only thing you could hear in the room was his busy, deep breaths. You hugged him fondly and he hugged you, when he came out of you you felt a pretty weird void, but fuck, it was the best sex you'd ever had in your life.

After his breaths managed to take a moderate course he saw you in the eyes as he groomed your hair carefully.

”I didn't want to be too brusque the first time" His hand caressed your stomach, internally you told yourself that if this was not brusque you didn't imagine the next time how sore you would end up, but it's something that really excited you, in every way.

"We'll have many more times to do it" You smiled and planted a kiss on his lips. "Many more" smiled in the middle of the kiss which made you adore him even more.

Thanks for readign me

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