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#I could fiddle around with this more but I think I’ve used all the colours so I’ll just leave it
rinrinx2 · 7 months
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My brothers wife
Part 6
Ran x reader
Warnings:SMUT, Inappropriate language, Mature themes, Affairs, Cheating, fighting, pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage , mentions of abortion
Text like this indicate that a past event is occurring
My brothers wife <3 Masterlist
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Each tick of the clock sounded louder than the next and every breath you took you could feel in detail as a loud silence festered in your hospital room as the man you called your husband sat parallel to your hospital bed.
Rindou sat in the worn in chair, hands on either leg with clenched fists and eyes starring into yours as he tried to decipher what thoughts your mind were littered with.
You watched Rindou taking in how his eyes burned into you only for you to look ever so slightly to his left to see the massive bouquet that sat on the table beside him.
‘Magenta Lilacs’
Your mind wondered off to the flowers beside him as you began to recall the events of a few days ago.
“I got you these” Ran said as he placed the flowers into the vase on the table besides the beaten up looking chair.
“They’re pretty, what are they?” You asked as you analysed the flowers carefully.
“They’re magenta lilacs” Ran said as he tried his best to arrange the flowers in the vase.
“They symbolise the first emotions of love”
“Thought they’d be fitting for our predicament you know I’m trying to make lemons out of lemonade here and also they’re kind of the colour of my hair so when you see them you’ll think of me even more” Ran said with a smirk as his eye now looked up catching yours.
You starred into Rans eyes taking in how even his eyes matched the flowers that he had placed in the vase. All other thoughts fled your mind as you focused on Ran, nothing but Ran.
“So urhm talking about predicaments, how is yours and baby’s going ?” Ran asked a bit more seriously but trying his best to conceal the worry laced in his words.
“Oh urhm” you stuttered out as Ran’s question finally soaked into your mind breaking out of the stupor Ran had put you in.
“Doctor says baby is fine” you said as you began to fiddle with the edge of the blanket your eyes tracing every fibre as you spoke.
“And what about you?” Ran asked walking over to your bed slowly as to not startle you.
“I’m okay Ran, just okay”
And for a moment a silenced washed over the two of you as you continued picking away at the blanket while Ran quietly watched your ministrations.
Even now while your guard was up and you eyes were rimmed red from crying he still thought you were as beautiful as ever. With his child living inside you and his love for you blossoming within him.
But before long Ran realised something.
“He’ll come visit you know” Ran said taking your hand in his.
“I know” you replied.
“If you want me to stick around and wait till he comes to tell him to fuck off I will I don’t care really about missions that Mikey has me doing I’ll take the scolding if it means I can make you feel at ease I really don’t -”
“No it’s okay” you butted in before Ran could finish his sentence.
“I know you take your job very seriously so go I’ll still be here when you get back, and him don’t worry I can handle myself …. I’ve got mini Ran to help through it” you said as a small smile crept onto your face.
“Mini Ran huh” Ran joked as he poked your side.
“(Y/N)” Rindou said loud enough to break you out of your memories as your eyes went back into him.
“I just wanted to start of by saying I’m sorry for everything”
“I’m sorry for not being there more for you and neglecting you and just overall not being a good husband. I thought about coming here and lying to you about everything about the secretary and all that but I want to be honest with you I want us to start fresh. I already told the secretary to get an abortion and about Ran he doesn’t have to be in our picture anymore; we’ll move abroad you, me and baby. The three of us, I don’t care if it’s not mine I just need this to work. It has to”
You looked at Rindou watching as the desperation clung to his face. Before you could even begin to think of a reply to Rindou he began to speak again.
“Please we can do this (Y/N)” Rindou said standing up from the chair now walking over to your side as he reached for your hand without you even realising.
“I’ll let Mikey know about my plans he can give me all the dead jobs no one wants as long as it’s away from here, just say the words and we’ll be gone by tonight” Rindou said as he grasped your hand tighter his eyes begging with an answer he hoped for.
You eyes peered over to those magenta lilacs and then back to Rindou.
“I’ll think about it Rindou” you said as you gently pulled your hand out of his.
Rindou looked at you before standing to his full height as he peered down to your figure. Taking one final look before he headed to the door.
“Let me know (Y/N) - chan”
The loud thud of the closing door made the vase slightly shake on the table and you worried for a moment that it would cause the vase to fall of the table and shatter.
But those Magenta Lilacs did not fall they stood strong and proud in their vase not failing to capture your attention throughout your stay.
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“Told you I’d be back before you left” Ran said as he grabbed your bags.
“You just made it”
“Oh come on, I’m still here even if it’s your last day” Ran joked.
“Aren’t you happy you’re leaving?” Ran asked.
“Of course I am, extremely happy now I can go …”
You stopped speaking realising you weren’t sure where you’d be going and Ran realised that too as you gaze began to drift off.
“You’re rooms already set up don’t even worry about it, I don’t have goose feather mattresses but my cloud soft mattresses should do just the same job” Ran said grabbing your last bags as he began heading to the door as you followed him.
But before you allowed to fully exit the room you quickly grabbed at the now dried up bouquet of magenta lilacs.
Your actions catching Ran’s attention.
“You know I’ll buy you new flowers you don’t have to hold onto a dead bouquet”
“I know but” you said trying to come up with an explanation but Ran already knew what you wanted to explain.
“Fine just don’t get dead flower all over my car”
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“So you like?” Ran asked as he showed you, your room.
“I mean it’s something” you replied looking about the completely red room. Looking at the rose red rugs to the red decorations that littered the room.
“I didn’t know you took the whole red room so seriously” you joked as you picked up some random red nik nak.
“Sorry I didn’t know you didn’t have a favourite colour besides the real red room is down the-”
“I don’t wanna know” you said cutting Ran off before he could finish his sentence.
“Oh come on don’t act all disgusted, you know how that baby was made right” Ran said with a raised brow.
“Oh whatever get out” you said gently nudging the tall male away.
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The fluffy red covers did little to keep you warm as the cold evening air seemed to seep through every crevice possible, and as much as you wanted to just endure the coldness of the night you knew your son would retaliate against your actions.
So without a second thought you began you ascension to Ran’s room.
The journey felt never ending if Ran’s room was just down the hallway from yours; your nerves were shot and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as if it would be the first time sharing a bed with Ran as if the child growing within you wasn’t due to the past actions of you and Ran in a bed.
“You gonna stand like a ghost at the door or you gonna get into bed” Ran questioned rhetorically, as you still stood dumbfounded for only a minute longer before you walked over to Ran’s bed carefully slipping into his covers to not alert him any further.
But all your advances of trying your best not to disturb Ran further we’re ruined when you felt him move himself over to you.
“Do you feel comfortable now?” Ran asked as his arms wrapped around your waist lazily.
“Mhmm” you hummed as you remained as still as a statue as you lied on your side.
You remained in Ran’s arms hearing his soft breathes as he ventured back into sleep and as tempting as it was to follow him but your body still held some energy that kept you awake.
“You’re still awake” Ran said with his eyes closed as he still felt your stiff body in his arms.
“I don’t feel that tired yet” you replied honestly.
And then Ran went quiet for a moment more before you began to feel hands at your side pulling your nighty up as finger went to your pantie pulling them to the side.
“What you doing?”
“Helping you feel tired” Ran replied nonchalantly as you felt his member tickle at your entrance.
And the blunt dullness of his head that teased your entrance brought back memories of how he’d fuck you to sleep just as he was about to do now.
And it didn’t take much of those memories to get you soaked. Ran’s tip began to gather slick from your dripping cunt as he slipped his member between your folds massaging his cock through your puffy folds.
The pressure that your clit throbbed with hoping Ran would finally sink into you was driving you wild and Ran knew it was he could tell from the way your nipples were pebbling underneath your silk nighty as his hand now toyed with the harden nubs.
Ran’s one hand remained on your nipple as the other travelled to your swollen clit. Rolling his fingertips over the bundle of nerves as he applied pressure to it that had you buckling into his hand.
“Ran” you moaned out as his teasing was becoming to much, from the feeling of his cock head playing at your entrance and his one hand pinching at your nipples while the other pressed on your clit, the feeling starting to have you see stars but just as you fell of the edge you felt that blunt tip split you in half as Ran shoved his cock in without warning.
“Fuck” Ran moaned as he felt you cum hard around his cock without warning.
Ran felt as your walls hugged him trying it’s best to milk him, Ran let out a soft laugh at your pussys action.
Slowly Ran began to thrust into you fucking you through your pleasure as a new wave of pleasure was beginning to build.
The sweat between your breast dripped down your body, while Ran’s hands grasped at your hips as he fucked into you like he was thirsty for your pussy to drench him. The sheets feeling more heavy as you tried your best not cum as Ran began to thrust harder and deeper hitting that spot deep within your pussy that only he knew.
“You’re gonna cum” Ran stated already knowing from your high pitched moans that you wouldn’t be able to last a minute longer.
And from his load grunts you could tell he was close too.
Ran began to fuck you now like a feral animal, the need and urge to feel that gripping feeling around him again to finally have your pussy milk him and him to give you that seed, that seed that if you weren’t already pregnant he was sure that you would be after this.
The sheets finally felt to heavy and your nipples to sensitive as Ran thrusted once again and suddenly it all felt to much again as that feeling bubbled over again. You gripped the sheets as you came feeling your pussy wrap around Ran suffocating his cock.
And Ran gladly allowed you to take his cock as he shot hot white seed into you letting you take all that he gave you.
Loud heavy breathing echoed throughout the room as your hands loosened from the sheets.
“You should be tired now” Ran said with his cock still buried in as he hugged you tighter, and within 3 minutes you once again heard those soft breathing as if Ran wasn’t fucking you not to long ago but this time you followed him in sleeping.
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Ran sat on the opposite end of the small kitchen table as he sipped on his morning coffee while you ate your no named brand cereal.
The scene felt like something out of a dream, like the man across from you was your husband and the child that merrily resided in you was yours, like a child you had planned.
And that feeling continued for what felt like forever, just you and Ran, the post love making glow still settled onto your skin as every now and then Ran would look over at you basking in your beauty.
You could get use to this and you’d hoped that you would that was until you heard a knock at the door, that hard shrilling knock that crushed your dream reality with Ran.
Because you knew who was knocking.
You knew it was the man you were actually married knocking the man who had cheated on you before you began your affair, the man who had neglected you to the point that you sorted comfort from his own brother it was Haitani Rindou.
And yet when that door opened you were shocked to find a woman.
A short, brunette, that dawned a heavy coat covering most of her body. Her facial expression was that of relief and worry. Like she was relieved to see you yet prettified by your presence and the tremble in her voice confirmed these feeling when she spoke.
“Good morning are you, Haitani (Y/N)?”
“I’m your husbands secretary”
.
.
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Taglist : @reiners-milkbiddies
All rights reserved to @rinrinx2
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arachnestardust · 10 months
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A Court Of Song And Shadow: Chapter Ten
Here's chapter ten, right on schedule!
No IC in this chapter, unfortunately, but you guys are in for a treat in the upcoming chapter, so I think you'll forgive me for it!
Chapter Length: 2127 Words.
Pairing: (Eventual) Azriel x Reader.
Warnings: canon typical stuff.
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After a thirty minute walk through Velaris, the little girl, whose name I learned was Aella, led me to a red-bricked, two story townhouse on the outskirts of the artist’s quarter.
 “That’s where I live!” She told me proudly, pointing to the golden-brown door, whose colour reminded me of fall.
 Aella let go of my hand, skipping her way towards the front door and strolling inside without a care in the world.
 “Daddyyyyyy! I made a friend!” She called out into the house.
 I followed her inside slowly and hesitantly, taking in the cosy foyer. If the colour of the door had reminded me of fall, the inside of the house did so even more so with its cosy oranges, dark greens, gentle browns and muted gold making the whole palette of the house’s inside.
 “Aella? It’s been over two hours, where were you?” A voice rang out as a male appeared at the end of the corridor.
 Aella’s father was a tall High Fae male with orange-red hair and grey eyes above pale, freckled cheeks. He wore a pair of sleek glasses and a diamond patterned sweater that was just slightly too large on his lean shoulders, making him look a bit awkward but relaxed, much as he felt.
 He was a cosy sight, a welcome one.
 “You should tell me when you’re going to- oh, hello.” He cut himself off, greeting me stiffly when he noticed my presence.
 “Aella.” He ordered, extending his hand to the little girl and hoisting her up on his hip protectively.
 Aella went without verbal complaint, though she rolled her eyes when her father picked her up. “This is the new friend I made! They need help, Daddy, and we’re going to help them.” Aella told her father decisively, leaving no room for argument.
 The male sighed, a hand coming up to rub at the bridge of his nose under his glasses as he set his daughter down. “The next time you’ll be out for so long, you tell me, okay? You made me worried.”
 “I was fine, Daddy. I know what I’m doing.”
 The male nodded, both of us watching as Aella disappeared further into the house before he turned his attention back to me and extended his hand, which I shook as I introduced myself. 
 “I’m Conn. And y0u’re the High Lady’s friend, I’ve seen you around… I don’t normally leave her unattended.” He promised, shuffling in his spot nervously.
 “I’m not here to police how you raise your daughter, especially since you’ve probably been bringing her up for longer than I’ve been alive, knowing how Fae age.” He looked at me curiously at that. “You raise her as you see fit.” I assured him.
 Not convinced, Conn fiddled with one of the rings around his fingers. “Velaris is a very safe city… And Aella’s always been… fiercely independent and a better judge of character than I.”
 “I’m really not judging. But she did tell you might be able to help me with my… gift.”
 Conn looked to me in interest, gesturing for us to move further inside the house and leading me to a cosy sitting room where a fire blazed in the hearth.
 The male sat down atop a plush armchair. “How can I help you?” He asked me curiously.
 Sitting down on the armchair opposite to his, I licked my lips, fighting a sudden bout of nerves. “I’ve always had… gifts. Since I can remember, I could feel what my grandmother felt and with time, I was able to feel Feyre too, but now my gifts have- they’ve evolved, I suppose. I can feel everyone all the time now, which can be overwhelming; but not just that… I can make others feel what I feel, apparently. It’s why Aella came after me.”
 His interest and curiosity were piqued, I could feel them blooming in his chest. “Daeseele.”
“What?” I asked, confused.
 “It’s what your gift is called.” he explained. “Daeseele; emotion readers, empaths, soul seers. Any of those can apply. The gift normally manifests with empathy, like Aella, or with emotional projection, like my late mother but you seem to have received it in both forms. Do you have any idea who you might have inherited it from?”
 “M-my paternal grandmother, maybe.” I confessed, trying to remember my childhood better. “Like I said, I’d felt her since I could remember and… I think she’d always felt me too. She used to tell me the people born in our bloodline were wise men and women, born with the gift of knowing what others needed. I only half believed her, because I only felt that with her and Feyre.”
 Conn nodded. “And now your power’s surging. Do you have any idea what might have caused this power spike?”
 I did, of course I did; but I didn’t want to tell him- a near complete stranger, about it. 
 “I do. It’s not something I’m comfortable talking about, though.” I told him with sharp decisiveness.
 Conn acquiesced. “We don’t need to know or go into depth on what caused the spike, just how to work around it and with it; I just asked out of curiosity.”
 I nodded.
 “When are you ready to start, then?”
 I jolted, surprised. “You’ll help me?”
 Conn pushed his glasses atop his head, moving to lean his elbows on his knees as he looked me in the eye. “I don’t see why not. You need the help, I have the means to offer it; it seems like a simple enough situation.”
 His kindness to a complete stranger was touching.
 “Thank you.” I smiled at the male.
 Conn simply inclined his head, sending an awkward but friendly smile my way.
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 That same day, Conn started to teach me all that his mother had taught him, all that he’d taught his daughter.
 “You’ll want to build shields, much like a daemati would,” he explained, moving his hands to express himself better. “But the difference is that your shield, at least the one for your emotions, the one keeping your emotions from bleeding out to others- let’s call it the inner shield- can’t be as solid as a mind shield, otherwise you risk cutting yourself off from your own feelings completely;”
 Like what had happened after the- after Hybern. I only got myself back because the flood of emotions of seeing Cass had been stronger than the wall- or shield, I suppose- I had used to block my feelings off.
 “Think of it as a- a membrane,” Conn continued. “You should be able to stretch it, so you can push things- your emotions, that is- through to influence others, if you want to do that, of course. Your other shield- we’ll call it the ‘outer shield’- is the shield that will keep you from feeling other people’s emotions.”
 So there would be a need for two different shields? That was interesting, but harder to manage than the mental shields, for sure.
 I was distracted by Rhys’ gentle claw running through my mental shield once, twice when I didn’t lower the thorny vines I’d erected inside my mind. When the High Lord tried a third time, kindling a spark of annoyance in me, I weaponised the vines, imagining the thorns growing, becoming dangerous to touch and finally, Rhys’ presence retreated from my mind.
 “Are you following? You look distracted.” Conn asked, a bit concerned.
 “I am, don’t worry. I just got lost in my thoughts.”
 “Do you have any doubts I can help clarify?”
 A thought occurred to me.
 “Not about what you were saying… But how did Aella find me? We’re very far from where I was.”
 “Aella can find where an emotion is emanating from as long as it’s within her range, as I’m sure you’re also able to do.” 
 Yes, it was because of that ability that I had been able to slip out of the House of Wind. I nodded.
 “But aside from that, I imagine you have a very large range- which depends on how powerful you are- especially if you were projecting in all directions and she still felt you from somewhere in the neighbourhood. If you concentrated on a singular direction or person, I believe you might be able to reach even farther. But I digress; because you have such a range, you managed to reach Aella, and my little girl found you.”
 I nodded, that made sense.
 Conn spent the rest of the day, late into the afternoon, helping me develop emotional shields and explaining to me how to better build them or lower them more efficiently.
 Throughout the afternoon Rhys tried more times to communicate, but I ignored the High Lord, focused on the lesson and unwilling to deal with what I imagined would be his needless worry over my whereabouts or worse, being forced back into the stifling House of Wind when I wasn’t ready yet.
 When the Sun started to set, Conn rose from his armchair, stretching and then offering me his arm, which I took gratefully, as he led me into a cosy kitchen in the back of the house.
 “Tea?” Conn asked.
 “That would be lovely, please.” I smiled at the man- male; I smiled at the male.
 We both leaned on the kitchen island, drinking our warm beverages.
 “So, what do you do, Conn?” I asked the male, curious now that our lesson was over and the exhaustion from it was settling into my body.
 The male shrugged, a little red in the cheeks at having our conversation turned towards his direction. “I am a librarian and historian in one of our High Lord’s libraries in the outer edge of the city… And uh… In my free time I sometimes take commissions as a spellweaver, when a rare client appears.”
 That last part piqued my interest. “A spellweaver?”
 A passionate glint started to burn in the male’s eyes. “Yes! It’s mostly an unused form of magic nowadays since Fae have magics for nearly everything we might need, but every once in a while, someone will need a spell to do a specific function-or more than one function- but such a spell doesn’t exist. That’s where I come in.”
 I nodded, encouraging the male to go on.
 “For example: you haven’t felt anyone but me since you entered the house, have you?”
 I hadn’t, but I had been so involved in building my emotional shields that I had barely noticed that.
 “Why is that?” I asked Conn, genuinely curious.
 “This whole house is warded; my own creation.” He told me proudly, seeming much larger without that cloud of awkwardness hanging over him. “I made the wards around the house so that Aella wouldn’t have to keep her shield up when at home; so she could relax here. Her room has her own set of wards, if she doesn’t want to feel anyone, including me.”
 “That’s brilliant, Conn!” And it was; such an amazing idea, which I didn’t doubt would be life-changing for people like Aella and me. “Would you work for me on commission? With permission from Rhys, I’d love to have my room warded in a similar manner.”
 Conn nodded, a bashful smile lifting his lips. Watching me, the male hesitated. “You said you’re staying in the House of Wind?”
 “More like visiting. I generally stay at the Townhouse.”
 “That’s still very far.” Conn pondered, taking off his glasses and nervously wiping them on his sweater, which, comically, only made them dirtier. 
 Avoiding my eyes, Conn spoke again. “Would you like to stay in our guest room tonight? That way you don’t have to take the long walk back while it's getting dark.”
 I hesitated; we’d only just met, but besides that, to impose in this male’s house…
 Seeing my reluctance, Conn added, “Only if you feel comfortable, after all. But any friend of the High Lord’s is a friend of Velaris and I wouldn’t dream of sending you out into the streets as you are.”
 ‘As I was’? I looked at him, a little offended. 
 “You look as if you are about to fall asleep standing up.” He hurried to explain.
 I was.
 I sighed. Just about to tell him my answer when a knock sounded from the entrance door.
 Conn and I looked at each other a bit curiously. 
 “I’m sorry, were you expecting company?” I asked, worried I’d overstayed my welcome.
 “Not at all.” Conn shook his head in confusion, moving towards the front door and leaving his teacup behind on the counter.
 I followed him.
 As soon as Conn opened the front door, emotions and scents assaulted my senses, one person’s more overpowering than all others.
 I would have recognised it even if I hadn’t spent multiple days around him.
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Love your ideas, would love to see how Hürrem telling Süleyman about Leo and her family would go
I was kinda afraid of this one, but in the end I wrote it in like one sitting? I don't know what y'all will think of it, but I have to say, I've never gotten so much into one of my fics as this one. The more I wrote, the more words just... Poured from my keyboard. This one has... Allusions to sex, plus period typical misogyny, but what else is new. Also lots of Ibrahim bashing. Also also slight Hürrem backstory headcanons (but less than I initially planned, sorry, this one is more Leo-centric).
***
That evening started out marvelously. Hürrem had just recovered from the treatment she had to endure in captivity, and came to his chambers for the first time in years with colour back in her face crowned with a big smile, red hair tastefully falling onto her back, topped with a blue tiara, in what seemed to be new dress. She cheekily bent down and kissed the hem of his robes, fixating him with a mischievous gaze. Süleyman smiled back at her. His Hürrem had well and truly returned.
   They made love slowly and gently, savoring every minute, and might’ve repeated the experience had it not been for the heat in the room and Süleyman’s parched throat. He angrily called upon the servants to bring him water and cool down the room; while they fiddled with the fireplace and heating pan, he waited in the frigid night air of the terrace, the morose old man’s frown on his face. Hürrem dutifully followed him there, dressed only in a nightgown and an equally flimsy robe. She surprised him by embracing him around the waist. “Such a beautiful night!” she sighed.
Süleyman caressed the hand she placed on his stomach. “Beautiful indeed.” he said somewhat absentmindedly, already somewhat ashamed by his outburst, yet trying not to have it show on his face or voice.
“Just like the first night.” Hürrem continued. “Remember? That night was also uncommonly warm.”
Süleyman chuckled. “And you wanted me just as desperately as you did tonight.”
“As I still do.” Hürrem noted softly, kissing the back of his head. “It felt like a fairytale, truly. I have gone trough all sorts of trouble the previous day, so ending up in your embrace… It seemed like an immense victory. And then you took me, you, the great sultan, ruler of this great empire, in this beautiful bedchamber, kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before, and whispering sweet words about how much you want me…”
“…and Ibrahim played us his violin from the next balcony.”
He successfully brought the awkward feeling that her words brought him onto her. Hürrem’s embrace went limp. “That he did.” she said weakly, and that was all she could muster in response.
   After a while in which neither of them could find a good way to break the uncomfortable silence between them, Hürrem tried to pull back. Süleyman’s guilt and regret mixed with the desperate need to have her by his side, which in turn battled a long-dormant doubts about her involvement in Ibrahim’s death. He should know better than anyone that she was innocent of all charges, and yet, for years, the accusations were so persistent they sowed a small, irrational seed of doubt even in his head. “Why did you hate Ibrahim?”
Hürrem was taken aback by this question. “Are you accusing me of some dirty games, Süleyman? Have my enemies finally succeeded in making you doubt me…?” She sounded like she was on the verge of crying.
Süleyman could not bear that tone of voice, and turned towards her before answering. “I am not accusing you of anything, Hürrem. I was just… Wondering. All those years, I only heard rumors and second-hand reports of your enmity, but you scarcely showed it front of me, so how could I know what was the matter with you two? Was it truly just petty jealousy? Or did his support of Mustafa and Mahidevran worry you?”
Hürrem sighed deeply. “My love, during my first spat, I had not thought of such things yet. Heavens, Mehmet wasn’t even born. Instead… Ah, Süleyman, I was so young and foolish! Yes, it was indeed petty jealousy, at first.”
“And then?” When Hürrem hesitated, he came closer in a gesture he might’ve changed into comforting or threatening at will, and his voice was soft, but not warm for the same reason. “You are my lawful wedded wife, Hürrem, aren’t you? And you have no secrets in front of me, just as I have nothing to hide from you, correct?”
Hürrem seemed apprehensive, even fearful. “Well…”
“What?”
She looked deep into his eyes and saw the face of a man that could be one’s most adoring lover and generous benefactor, or worst enemy. Hürrem knew a lie could spare her both. But at the same time, she realized that she no longer feared the latter or distrusted the former. Mayhaps she was foolish to get so comfortable in his affection – after all, so did Ibrahim, and he paid for that dearly – but what if the time was finally right? “Süleyman, I… Look, I do not wish to talk about it. It is said that one should not speak ill of the dead…”
Süleyman lifted his eyebrows. “Had Ibrahim done something? Tell me, Hürrem! After all, he is not there to lie and slander you anymore.” The last sentence bore a noticeable tinge of irony.
Hürrem hanged her head. “It is a long story.”
Süleyman sat onto the sofa. “Well, we have the whole night ahead of us, don’t we?”
“I suppose…” And with those words, she sat next to him.
   Hürrem took a deep breath. “A long time ago, when I was a young girl in Rohatyn… Have I ever told you of my younger years?”
“I don’t think so. Besides the fact that you are from that area, I suppose. I’ve never heard of Rohatyn; it must not be large, now is it?”
“It truly is not. It has been awarded town rights some decades before my birth, but as far as towns go, it is neither old nor important. At any rate, my father was a priest in the local Orthodox church. He could read and write, and a pay from his parish was good enough to feed his family, though we were not that rich either. As a Christian girl of no wealth or importance, I was free to socialize boys as I wished…”
“Your father wasn’t worried for your honour?”
“Well, of course he was, but you know how it is. I was young and silly, I did not think of such things too much. Besides, where I come from, we were free to talk to boys, as long as we did not do so in secret and our displays of affection weren’t too open. My father had a friend, painter of icons… Have you ever heard of those?”
“I’ve spoken with the patriarch of Constantinople enough times to have some idea. Aren’t those the pictures the infidels of your church worship?”
Hürrem laughed. “I suppose you could call it that…”
“Say no more. I’ve had the man swear up and down that they aren’t idols enough times, as if I cared…”
“Either way, my father’s friend made those, and he had a son who was to take up his trade. His name was Leo, and we knew each other ever since we were children. When we fell in love, our fathers were quite pleased, as you might imagine – Leo was a suitable husband, in status as well as in kind, personable nature, and besides, they quite liked the idea of our families growing closer. My father was ready to give us his blessing as soon as he noticed the longing glances we exchanged anytime we happened to be in the same room.”
“Was he not afraid of anything inappropriate happening between you two?”
Hürrem smiled. “Oh, heavens, was he! He watched us like a hawk, but… Well, we were so young and innocent, I could not even imagine such a good boy as Leo even trying anything. Our wedding was not far away when…”
Süleyman noticed the nostalgic joy draining from her face immediately. To her relief, he seemed worried and not the least bit intimidating. “When what?”
“A Tartar raid.” Hürrem said quietly. “I was carried away at a Tartar raid.” She suddenly raised her voice. “But do not let me worry you with the tales of that horrible incident, Süleyman. Needless to say, I’ve lost my family that day, and I thought I had lost Leo too… In a way, I had, for I was his no more, but he had survived, against all odds he evaded the terrible fate that had befallen so many of our neighbours. What happened to me then you know. I’ve forgotten my dead love, put him away with my childhood, and became a woman – your woman.” She sat closer to him and rested her body against his, holding him with such deep, honest love he did not doubt her sincerity for a second, as subtly manipulative as it seemed in context. “Alexandra, priest’s daughter from Rohatyn, died. Hürrem, the most beloved and devoted servant of the great sultan Süleyman, was born.”
“Most beloved and devoted servant, you say? Tell me again, where does the previous holder of that title come into this story?”
“Well, at this point, I suppose. As I’ve said, I was a foolish girl, and drew Ibrahim’s ire by my demanding nature. We were as spiteful as the other, and so, no matter how petty this feud started, none of us could be the bigger person and deescalate it. Even so, I could not even imagine the cruelty with which he would strike against me. You see, Leo was nothing but a faint memory of days gone by when he resurfaced in Istanbul. How could he not be? In all those years, I never remembered him. Father, mother, sister, those have a place in one’s heart that no one can replace, but a boy I loved when I was myself almost a child? He was barely a star on my heaven, of course he paled in the light of my sun.”
She curled up closer against him, and after some hesitation, he gently caressed her head. Sure, he’ll believe her for now. “But Leo came back to you. What did you think of when you saw him?”
“Oh, I was shocked, of course! And – well, I hope you won’t interpret this in the wrong way… I worried about him. You see, Leo was acting so foolishly, seeking out my company and talking to me despite my warnings. Unfortunately, despite his efforts, he wasn’t given a permission to leave, much as I wished him to do so; his continued presence embarrassed me and tormented him.”
Süleyman’s voice was bitter. “He still loved you, then.”
“If I had any control over what happens in that poor man’s heart, I would’ve erased that hopeless love from it with pleasure, but alas. He eventually at least kept his distance from me, and I would think of him no more if it wasn’t for that letter.”
She felt Süleyman’s body tense up. “What letter?”
“When he could finally leave, he gave Nigar kalfa a letter for me, in which he bid me farewell. A horrible, reckless decision, but no crime.”
“Consorting with a sultan’s woman behind his back is no crime?”
“Well, I’ll let you be the judge, my love, whether it was deserving of such terrible punishment, and from a man who had no right to dole it out anyway.”
“So Nigar gave that letter to Ibrahim.”
“Exactly. And knowing it will throw me in the most terrible suspicion, knowing it will cost me and my children – our children – our lives… He summoned me and Leo into the room, giving me a choice. Either I eat candy drench in the most terrible poison, killing not just myself, but our unborn child, our little Bayezit…”
   If she was merely acting, she would find her place in the most heart-wrenching Greek tragedy. For a while, she was so consumed by grief, that despite his repeated requests, only sobs left her mouth. Eventually, after he started cradling her in his arms and kiss her forehead, whispering sweet words into her ear, she managed to pull herself together enough to continue her tale. “Or Leo could eat the poison for me, making me watch as an innocent man dies because of our mistakes, so said Ibrahim. That… That evil man knew his outrageous accusations might turn against him – after all, he threatened the lives of sultan’s children! At the same time, he knew that even the terrible possibility of you not believing me would be enough to make me do anything he wanted.”
“Not without reason. Had I heard this story from his mouth and read that letter, I would’ve believed him.”
It was as if Hürrem shrank in his arms even more. Again she didn’t say anything, weeping terribly for a few minutes.
In the end, he whispered softly in her ear. “And so Leo ate that candy.”
All that Hürrem said was a quiet. “Yes.”
   He did not want to take Hürrem’s story at face value. Surely, Ibrahim must’ve believed he was acting in his best interest; after all, from his point of view, Hürrem probably looked very guilty, and he was offering her a way to save at least her living children. But then he remembered how he got that letter. Nigar just… Gave it to him. Why? Were they already carrying out their affair? So soon after Ibrahim’s marriage to Hatice? Hürrem probably didn’t know, but that terrible possibility made Süleyman realize that none of Ibrahim’s concerns about Hürrem’s guilt or innocence could’ve been genuine. Whatever other motives drove him, the pain of Süleyman’s beloved was what he cared about most of all. Süleyman’s mind was suddenly plagued with memories – shocking revelations of Ibrahim’s affair with Nigar, the death of Iskender Çelebi, and of course the immense, revolting hubris of that man he was once foolish enough to call friend… And whatever half-truths or distortions Hürrem’s story might’ve contained, it was just too incriminating to be completely fabricated. Most of all, Süleyman realized that after all those years he knew Hürrem’s heart inside out, it was simply unthinkable for him to even consider the possibility of his wife betraying him in that way. Hürrem, whose jealousy could drive her mad, who was willing to die just to prove him her love and who was truly, honestly unable to imagine life without him… That woman would so much as look at another man lustfully?! Nonsense. If such a thing was possible, then there might as well be no God, because it would make Süleyman doubt everything he ever held to be true. “You made a mistake.” he whispered in her ear. “And so did he. Neither of you deserved what he did to you. Ibrahim had wronged you terribly, just like he had wronged everyone else he had ever known. He deserves to rot in a grave somewhere in the woods. I wish we all could’ve simply forgotten him.”
   She kissed him so hungrily, with such joy and gratitude, that even his aging body found it in itself to grab her in his arms and lift her into his lap. And as he pulled up her nightgown while her hand stumbled blindly trough the inside of his trousers, she whispered into his ear the words he remembered for the rest of his life. “Finally, my love. I had given up the hope, but finally you understand.”
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michellemisfit · 9 months
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TAG GAME TUESDAY!!
Thank you, as always, to the incomparable @celestialmickey for providing the Tuesday fun!
Thanks for the tag @gardenerian, @tanktopgallavich, @energievie, @deedala
And thanks @deedala for providing the easy copy & paste version of this for my silly mobile only using self
Name: Michelle
Age: Why do I have to stop and do the maths every single time?? Memory loss age, clearly!
Favourite Colour: Rainbow 🌈 (also anything in the berry family)
Beverage of Choice: Water, Chai Latte (hot or cold), Hot Chocolate, Dark Spiced Rum (attach suitable occasion to each at your own leisure)
Do you have push notifications turned on for tumblr? I have certain people and account on flag alerts. I have a lot of things on flag alerts. I live with constant FOMO.
Opinion on Fireworks? Pretty in theory. Practically a massive waste of money, bad for the environment, endanger and scare wildlife and pets, so it’s a no from me.
Favourite Childhood Toy? I had this stuffed mouse toy that had rainbow coloured ears and a music box inside it. When you pulled its tail all the way out it would play a song while slowly winding the tail back in. I loved it and thought the tail was so fun and I would wrap it around my arm and let it run over my arm as it wound back in. And then I’d put it around my leg and let it run over my leg as it wound back in. And then I wrapped the tail around my neck and nearly died… luckily my mother turned away from her phone call to check on me, finding me blue in the face and close to unconscious, and managed to get a pair of scissors and cut the tail just in time… so that’s that story lol
The store you shop at the most: I hate to say it but these days it’s Amazon. Urgh. I’m the worst.
Do you swear a lot? I feel like I’ve spent the last two days discussing the finer science behind swearing!! lol Yes and no? I use swear words in casual conversation, because English swearing doesn’t mean anything, since no one ever taught me those words are bad… but I don’t swear in anger.
Favourite Trope: Slooooooow burn. Especially for good reasons, not just hilarious high-jinx type misunderstandings.
An album with no skips: PULP - Different Class
If you could play any instrument, what would you choose? Fiddle. I love watch bands that have a fiddler, it’s the best!! I would also get a kick out of being really good at playing the spoons!!
Your biggest pet peeve: Oh, I have so many! Like, I love people, but I also really hate people, y’know? lol Getting to the bottom of an escalator and stopping!! In rush hour!!! With no regard to the pile up that’s about to happen behind you!!!!! Yeah, that’s a huge one. Get the duck out of the way people! Move to the side, then stop and chat!!
Favourite time of day: I’m naturally a morning person! But also the closer it gets to noon the more I start to think of the day as being ‘basically over’ and then I start to fret over all the things I was going to do today that I’ve now failed to achieve, and then I waste some time hating myself for sucking… did I mention that I’m very neurotic, also? 🤦
And finally, did you drink water today? Yeah. It’s summer time which means there are half full bottles of water in my freezer at all times, so I grab one in the morning, top it up with water all day long, and my water is always cool 😎
Also, I’m a water goblin. I hoard bottles of water in every room I ever spend time in. And then when I go to the kitchen to get myself or snack or something I think ‘Oh! Do I have water??’ And because I’m not sure I bring a pint of water just in case… to add to my other 5 pints of water already in the room LOL
It me 👇
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I’d like to tag @ms-moonlight-inn @jrooc @grossmickey @harrowhark-a-vagrant @too-schoolforcool @tsuga-of-mars @thepupperino @vintagelacerosette @crossmydna @faejilly @junemermaid @juliakayyy @southsidestory @grumble-fish @creepkinginc @depressedstressedlemonzest @rutherinahobbit @rereadanon @lupeloto @francesrose3
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shaelashaela · 8 months
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Before You Were Born, ch. 15
[reading time] 5½ mins.
A cool breeze whipped past us, ruffling the grass around the fairy circle. Rayna and I looked down upon the formation with some trepidation. It would only be the two of us, after all. I hoped it would be enough. From here, the waiting entrance to the fey world seemed plain and unassuming. Most people would have no idea it was even here.
Rayna broke the silence. “Well, Sylvie. You can’t procrastinate anymore. What’s the plan?”
I didn’t really have a plan, but I couldn’t tell her that. “We go in, quietly. We find Ixion. Hopefully we can surprise him and restrain him. I don’t really want to kill him, even after all he’s done. If we’re successful, we can turn him over to the royal knights. I know the detective said he wanted to make an arrest, but I don’t think the police would have the slimmest chance of holding him.”
“I guess this whole thing is riding on our assumption that he wouldn’t believe we’d come after him. What if he is waiting for us? Worse, what if it’s a trap?”
I dug the toe of my boot into the dirt. “It’s a possibility. We’ll just have to be cautious.”
Rayna stood and watched while I pulled a few of my father’s tools out of my bag: a set of gold rings, one for each finger on my left hand; a long, white cord of silk rope that I wound around my waist; and a belt pouch loaded with the most potent reagents I had on hand.
She put her hands in her jeans pockets. “I don’t suppose you’ve got anything that might help me… I dunno, do something? I feel a bit lost.”
I fiddled with tightening the straps of my belt. “Not without a bunch of extra training. Use what you know. Use the drills you practiced. You should be able to tap into magic more freely once we’re on the other side, so be ready for that.”
I turned to head for the ring of mushrooms, but she caught my hand in hers and pulled me back around to face her. “Sylvie?”
I looked into her beautiful eyes. The cinnamon hue was tinged with fear, and I had no idea what to say to comfort her.
She continued. “Look, it’s pretty obvious we don’t know what we’re doing, and there’s a really good chance we’re going to go in there and get… get killed. Hell, I don’t even know why I’m still following you—no, that’s a lie. I know exactly why.”
“Rayna…”
“Please, let me say what I need to say. Sylvie… I don’t know if you feel like I do, but I really think I’ve started to fall for you. I needed to tell you that before we quite possibly go to our collective doom.”
My mind and my heart raced in unison. I didn’t expect such a blunt confession. Did I feel the same way? It was hard to put into words. I definitely felt something for her, but I knew she meant romantic feelings specifically. I couldn’t say if I’d ever felt that way about anyone. What did it feel like? I remembered my mother. I knew exactly why she looked at Rayna with disapproval. She wanted grandchildren. She would be upset if I involved myself with another woman. Be it man, woman, or whatever, though, I’d never felt the way she described feeling about my father. What should I do?
I didn’t realize that I was lost in my own head. Rayna’s eyes fell to the ground after a long silence. “Oh… sorry. That was foolish.”
Now I’d hurt her feelings, and that felt like having my own heart crushed. “No! Not foolish at all. I’m sorry. I’ll try my best to explain later. It’s… complicated.”
She simpered. “Okay.”
Her voice overflowed with skepticism. Not that I could blame her; I had no way to guarantee that “later” would actually happen. I shook the confusion from my mind. As much as I wanted to comfort Rayna, this was no time to be distracted.
I turned my attention back to the unassuming circle on the ground. Without further hesitation, I leapt through the ragged edges between worlds.
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All around us, tall trees with bright golden flowers and grass the colour of the ocean waves covered the landscape. Even the marsh water was crystal clear and reflected the sunlight. I could smell the sweet aroma of nectar and heard dragonflies buzzing to and fro. After so many decades away from my home, I forgot what an assault on the senses it could be compared to the human world.
Rayna ran her fingertips lightly along one of the broad, purple leaves of a shrub. “This place is gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
I looked over at her, but I saw a different form of beauty. She was radiating with the magic of the fey realm, so much so that it dripped off of her in splashes of silver light. The raw power she could muster here surprised even me. She probably couldn’t see it herself, though.
“It’s taking a bit of adjusting even for me,” I replied. “When I was a child it was just normal, but now it’s like walking into the sunlight from a dark room. Burn this place into your memory, though. We’ll need to return here to get back to the city.”
She glanced back at the other side of the fairy circle. In this place, it was a ring of stones carved into the shapes of small mushrooms, a purposeful bridge placed here.
“That was an easy crossing. How do people not just stumble through all the time?”
I shrugged. “Some do, if they wish it. Even though it’s not hard to push through, it does still require intent. I imagine that’s how so many humans still live in denial of it all.”
She nodded and raised her hand to her face to admire a small, iridescent butterfly that had alighted on it.
I was agitated and would brook no delay. “Come on, let’s get moving. The house is this way.”
Moving across the marsh physically went much slower than my scrying session. We had to pick our footholds carefully so that we didn’t sink into the ground. All the while, the sun slowly crawled across the sky. It felt like hours passed, but that was likely a combination of my impatience and the tedious work of hopping from one patch of sodden grass to another.
I took a moment to observe our surroundings. Great grey mountains towered to the east, distant and majestic. To the west, the marsh collided with a vast forest. Even further out, almost out of sight, I could see golden spires rising above the trees. Was that Rosehold? I’d studied maps of my homeland my whole life, but it was very different trying to get my bearings from ground level. I buried my curiosity and focused on moving forward.
We drew closer to the house I’d seen before, and it was as dilapidated as I remembered. I could see no lights or other signs of inhabitance. Now that we were crossing the swamp, I felt keenly aware of how exposed we were. Anyone who was inside would be able to see us coming from quite a distance. Perhaps it would’ve been smarter to wait for nightfall? Wait… what was I thinking? I was an alchemist. I could make cover for us!
I stopped Rayna when we got to the next solid patch of grass. “Hold on. I have an idea on how to mask our approach.”
She watched patiently while I fetched a few chemical reagents from my belt pouch along with a polished disc of calcite. In the past, my father forbade me from working the weather, since it was impossible to do without irking your neighbours (for several miles around, no less). Thankfully he didn’t stop me from studying the practice, though. I said a few rites over the still water of the marsh while sprinkling in a drop of mercury, a pinch of diamond dust, and a few balsam fir needles. Then I dropped the calcite in with a satisfying splash.
After a handful of seconds, nothing changed, and Rayna peered over my shoulder. “Is something supposed to happen?”
“Give it some time…”
The water’s surface puckered. Then it happened again, and again, one after the other until rain drops formed and fell upward into the sky. I smiled, relieved. I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to recreate that particular spell from memory. Soft clouds formed rapidly all around. A dense, grey fog clung to the ground and grew to rise above our heads. Unfortunately it also chilled us and dampened our clothes.
I laughed, genuinely pleased with myself. “It worked!”
Rayna slowly twirled around in a circle, surveying the misty shroud around us. “Not exactly subtle. You think they’ll get suspicious of a sudden fog rolling in?”
“Perhaps. But they still won’t be able to see us.”
“Well, we can’t see either. We need to keep our bearings, or we’ll just miss the house entirely.”
She had a point there. I forgot that we still needed to see so we could find our way to the dilapidated building. I thought I knew which direction to go, so I led us further into the roiling mists. The fog was thick and suffocating, and I felt a growing dread fall over me. Despite the cover I’d provided us, not knowing Ixion’s location either unnerved me. I imagined his sinister face suddenly emerging from the shifting fog, and my knees shook.
I didn’t want to lose my way in the fog, so I grabbed Rayna’s hand, and together we walked in what I hoped was the right direction.
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saturnsmirrorball · 2 years
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i believed each step would become my last, yet my feet kept meeting the ground harshly every second, the damp grass beneath me caused shivers to arise upon my body. my breathing was growing stronger as the incline rose, the peach coloured sky beginning to take its shift, replacing the dark blue.
it couldn’t have been past five in the morning, i felt only alive. how could i possibly feel something else when i was around her? pandora sparked something in me that i could never quite fathom to understand nor explain.
“pandora, please.” i gasped, my lungs fought for air as this was the first time i had ran quite this fast.
she was in tears, i couldn’t see her face, but i could hear an occasional sob mixed in with her own heavy breathing.
she didn’t answer me and i noticed we were reaching the top of the hill, worried of what may come next, i speed up so i fall in line with her, causing her to stop in her tracks.
the air was cold. it hugged me supportively though, if it were any other circumstance, i would tilt my head up to the wind and smile, communicating through energies.
for a few moments, we both just stood there. he blond hair was messily placed on her right shoulder in a braid. a few strands hung around her face. her blue eyes so pale, they could almost be mistaken for a silvery colour. her lips were plump from biting them, a soft red replacing her usually pink ones. though her eyes were swollen and she was attempting to calm her breathing, i couldn’t help but think.
she looks just like an artwork.
a strong urge to run back down the hill to fetch a canvas so i could paint her whispered through my mind.
finally catching my breath, i breathed out. “pandora,” her name flew out of my mouth so quietly, a small wind hitched on my lips as her name flew past them. it was as if i had a jar full of words left and i was truly savouring each and everyone of them.
it broke my heart. she could hardly look at me. i knew i deserved it, but my god, i would burn all my books just for her to look at me for a moment.
“i,” i paused, i slowly dropped down to the floor, sitting with my legs to one side as i looked up at pandora’s wonderful face that was casted down onto the floor. acting in defiance, she tilts her head towards the horizon instead. i stay seated and stare at the horizon myself.
“…i understand i was foolish. i truly do. i shouldn’t have-“ an involuntary shiver of a breath ran through me, forcing me to take a breath. i complied.
“i shouldn’t have kissed you. i am truly sorry that i did that to you. that i put you in that situation.”
i paused and looked down to my lap. the bottom of my nightgown was damp from the grass. i fiddled with my hands, realising that i’m not sure where i want this situation to go. i’ve said what i said, i’m not sure if i would prefer pandora to reply or to simply walk off. at the moment, i think her storming off would make more sense.
from the corner of my eye, i see pandora’s delicate hands move to her face to cover it. it makes me sad, not only does her sorrow stir something inside of me, i feel a surge of anxiousness run through me. as if for just a few moments, the world cannot see the loveliness of her face.
to my surprise, it is pandora who speaks now. “it is not that you kissed me, y/n.” she sighed miserably. “it is that you have kissed me now.”
my head rises, the confusion already testing itself on my face. “i- i don’t understand…” for the first time since we have been out here, our eyes meet. i don’t feel as if time has stopped. i feel as if we have stopped and the whole rest of the world has sped up and is circling around us continuously.
“i am happy now. i have moved on, i spent months convincing myself to accepting that i would never be enough for you in that regard.” her bottom lip quivered slightly now, her voice sounded pushed. as if she were swallowing the sound of a cry, i could feel the pain. “i watched while you became infatuated with regulus. i was there when you got over him. i water, and waited for the day you would see me as someone you could love. but-“ she paused again, this time letting a short and sharp sob escape from her throat. her hands shook to the back of her neck as she blinked away a few tears.
“but i’ve realised now, i can’t sit and wait for you to love me. because you never will, you will only yearn for a short time until you begin to take an interest in someone else. and i’ve realised now that this is because you cannot love like others. and i know, i know that is not all your doing. i understand how you grew up, but i want someone to love me romantically. so please, do not kiss me. do not send me mixed signals. please do not try to convince yourself that you love me, because you don’t.”
i imagine each piece of the grass below me gripping onto me and trying to pull me under the soil. i sat there as pandora down the hill. away from me. forever it felt like. i stated out onto the horizon, the sun finally making its way up as the tears continued to make their way down, dampening my nightgown even further.
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Chapter 7: The unplanned Departure.
“Save them..?” Unit C asked “What do you mean save them?” 
“You have access to the machine right?” I said looking at him.
“Yeah, I don’t get what that can do to help though.” Unit C sighed sitting down “I’m the lowest rank out of all the Units.”
“That means you know how it works, meaning you're our best shot of getting them home.” I turned for the door and looked at it, the wind was blowing through the door. It made the situation more tense to be completely honest.
“Wait Sho” I turned back to Asriel “You said ‘We’re’ what do you mean by that?”
“Well I don’t think I can do it alone.” I remarked, looking at Asriel “Besides, it's four vs three. I’m sure we can take them!” I looked at them all, they all thought I was insane, I concluded.
“No you're right.” Akemi affirmed my statement “Plus the last thing we want is for them to get injured.” I looked at Akemi and smiled.
“So!” I shouted “Whose with me?” I looked at them, almost half expectantly.
Not more than a second later, everyone in the room agreed to help me save them and soon we found ourselves travelling to the science lab… where all of this began.
We travelled through the woods I found Laval and Cragger at, the scenery was barely green with twigs on the floor everywhere. Soon we found ourselves at this old building, well it looked old I thought to myself.
“Well here we are..” Unit C said with a certain amount of stress in his voice “We’re at the lab…”
"Sho are you sure you want to do this? These men are dangerous!” Gaster was concerned.
“Oh I’m sure.” I responded looking at him determinedly “They took my friends. They hurt you. I’m not going to let that slide at all!���
Gaster sighed. 
“Here’s the plan” Unit C said, looking at all of us with a similar determined look I had just given Gaster. “Sho, Asriel and Akemi will go find Laval and Cragger. They should be on the right wing of the building. Me and Gaster will make a dash for the room with the realm opening device where we can start it up and get them two home. This device is on the second floor of the left wing.”
“That’s the plan?” Asriel asked with concern, “Sounds a bit last second.”
“It is a last second plan. It’s the best I could come up with at the moment.” Unit C affirmed Asriel “But if we executed flawlessly, we shouldn’t have any issues.” The group was silent, I think we all knew that this was the final gambit.. The last chance to get them home if you will. “Well, what are we waiting for?” Unit C opened the gate in front of the building, “there’s a separate door on the right wing. Sho’s group you go through there and make your way to the left side where we should have the machine up and running.” We all walked through the gate and soon my group made their way to the right side of the building, entering through said door. The interior of the building was what I was expecting to be honest, just boring white colours which contrast the exterior. We started opening doors to try and find them, They should’ve locked them I thought to myself. But each door we went through was a dud, holding different experiments that these scientists were possibly doing Nut jobs with impossible experiments… I confirmed to myself, looking around each room with curiosity. Soon however I heard Akemi shout.
“Sho! Asriel! I think I’ve found them!” Me and Asriel sprinted to where Akemi was, and lo-and-behold, Laval and Cragger were locked behind a set of bars.
“Sho!” Laval yelled, running up to the bars “What are you doing here?!”
“Well I’m obviously here to get you both out of here.”
“But… They’ll keep hunting us..” Cragger woefully said standing up “They won’t stop.”
“That’s why we’re going to send you two home.” I affirmed “Unit C is helping us, he knows how to work the machine that will get you home. Akemi could pick the lock on this cell.”
“I’m already on it.” Akemi knelt down and took a paper clip from his pocket and began fiddling with the lock. I looked at Asriel and saw him blush a tiny bit.
“I’m sorry but what are you intruders doing with our specimens?” I turned to face that same man I saw on Tuesday and Wednesday, “Ah, it’s you. Sho Sato…” I looked at him stunned. How did he know my name?! “I bet you're wondering how I knew that. Well voice signatures are a funny thing.”
“I-I…” I stuttered, I was completely shocked at this. I looked at his badge.. Unit D it said on the badge.
“Sho, you're the reason we found them. Because you were in the right place at the right time.” I looked at the floor..
“Sho don’t listen to him!” Asriel yelled “It isn’t your fault they were found! You had no control of where they were.”
"No you should listen to me Sho." Growled Unit D, "These things are experiments, we were testing the possibility of realm travel. You were in the way, your a nobody Sho...or Shoto. Which ever one you go by now."
"You've skimmed through my history..?" My voice began to tremble.
"Yeah. Honestly, your actually pathetic. A little nobody even!"
"That's wrong Unit D!" I heard Asriel shouting as the voices drowned out, I was trapped in my head again. No...No! I'm not a nobody I...I'm not, I was able to prove Eren wrong but...those words still hurt even after all this time.
“Sho. He's wrong.” I felt a hand on my shoulder, It was Cragger. Akemi had picked the lock! “Your not a nobody and you are not pathetic. You're probably one of the kindest people I've ever met! Aside from Laval of-course. You actually helped me and Laval, I wouldn't count that as pathetic.” Cragger glared at Unit D “Now if you’ll excuse me…” Cragger punched Unit D which sent him to the floor “We have a machine to get to? Whatever it is.” And soon we found ourselves running through the laboratory with the alarms blaring through our ears. Soon we found Gaster and Unit C who had seemingly tied someone up to a pole of some sort. I looked at his badge, Unit A…
“Is the machine ready?” I asked standing next to Gaster. Akemi stood by Unit C, looking at him as he worked on the machine.
“Practically yeah, however we had to subdue Unit A..” Gaster turned to Unit A “He shouldn’t be back around kicking for quite some time.”
“Brilliant!” I yelled entering the machine room with Asriel, Laval and Cragger “Wait… that means-”
“This is goodbye.” Laval said, looking at the machine.. “Sho… We can’t thank you enough for the help you’ve given us.”
“Yeah… We’d still be in that forest if it wasn’t for you.” Cragger looked at Laval and grabbed his hand and held it gently…I looked at them both,  No way this could be the end of the road right?
“Yeah… right. Well, it was nice meeting you two.” There was a sudden blue glint as I was looking at a real portal to a separate realm. “Goodbye…and goodluck explaining this to you're families”
“Oh we will!” Laval pecked Cragger’s cheek as the two blushing lovers stepped through the portal. I felt a sense of melancholy as they left..
“You're going to miss them aren’t you Sho?” Asriel asked, looking at me..
“Honestly.. Yeah” I responded looking at Asriel “They became my friends..”
“Close the blast doors.” I heard an unfamiliar voice as a loud thud sounded from behind me and Asriel. I turned to find the entrance to the area with the machine in itself locked. Soon the machine began making noises, noises that detected some sort of… danger.
“Gaster, what's going on?!” I yelled turning towards the now door that was made of metal “Why is this door lock?!”
“Unit B! What are you doing?!” I heard Unit C yell “There are children in there!”
“Unit C, they’ve ruined our experiments. Unit A was right, they need some sort of consequence!” Said the voice who I presume is Unit B.
“Sho are you alright!” I heard Gaster yell slamming his hand on the door “What’s going on?!”
“I don’t know but-” I was cut off. My vision was suddenly clouded with blue “GASTER-” I heard Asriel scream but as soon as I heard him scream a new surrounding area filled my vision, the blue sky contrasted the scenery of the Laboratory as I sat up.
“Wait… Asriel?!” I looked for Asriel and saw him sit up “Are you alright?!” I dragged myself towards him as I head him cough. "Asriel!?"
“I’m fine Sho... I'm fine." Asriel reassured me as he began to look around. "Where are we?” I did the same as what he was doing. We looked to be on some sort of mountain with an amazing view overlooking the surrounding area. I looked around some more and saw Laval and Cragger who looked somewhat worried.
“Sho?! Asriel?!” Laval gasped “What’s going on? You're not meant to be here!”
“Oh god…what happened?!” Cragger muttered coming up to us..
“Oh…oh no.” I suddenly hit a realisation. A realisation that shattered my soul..
“Sho what’s wrong?” Asriel asked, this was almost a ridiculous question so it was probably more out of concern..
“We’re in Chima…” I muttered.. “Unit B forced an explosion of the portal that would’ve sent us to Chima.” Asriel’s eyes widened “We’re stuck here Asriel. We’re stuck in Chima.”
<-Previous Chapter
Next Chapter ->
This is where the original story would've ended with Laval and Cragger going back to chima. But then I became very hyperfixated on the show and I began getting more and more ideas so that's when I decided to split the story up into two halves which at the time I called the "Undertale Half" and the "Chima Half". Plus I added more to the Unit D confrontation to have it be more inline with the lore of Halcyontale.
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heytherejulietx · 3 years
Note
43 from the hand hold one with Jasper🥺
Send in some requests.
Jasper Hale - Raising the other’s hand to their lips to kiss it softly.
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“Alice!” Y/N yelled, fighting against the smaller girl’s hold, though it was no use. Never in a million years would she be able to get out of a vampire’s grip; though especially not Alice’s. When she wanted something done, it was done.
“Will you stop squirming, I’m not going to kill you.” Alice snapped as she hauled Y/N over her shoulder causing her to scream, before she proceeded to carry her into the Cullen’s household, using her free hand to push open the door.
Y/N knew what she was up to. Alice was trying to get her to go to prom, which she had sworn against doing for ages. She’d told Jasper that they could just go and do something together instead of going to prom. It sounded horrifying; having to dance with her effortlessly elegant boyfriend whilst she stumbled and tripped around, making herself look foolish in front of the entire school and his family. She’d even told Alice hundreds of times that she didn’t want to go, but clearly she wasn’t having it.
“Y/N, what a lovely surprise.”
From where she was dangling over Alice’s shoulder she caught a glance of Carlisle stood by the doorway and glared at the doctor when she could see the amusement over his face.
“Can’t you get her to stop!” Y/N groaned, hitting Alice’s back, though clearly it did nothing to affect her.
“Sorry, we’ve been sworn not to help.” Carlisle held his hands up in surrender and stepped back into the living room, and Y/N cursed as Alice sped up the stairs, finally letting her down into the seat at her vanity.
“I hate you.” Y/N glared at Alice, who started moving around her bedroom to get different beauty products for her.
“No you don’t, you love me,” Alice responded in a sing-song voice as she started brushing through her hair, and Y/N didn’t even bother to make a run for it. She just knew she’d get carried back upstairs until she stayed there. “Besides, you won’t be with me very long. Jasper gets to keep you for the night.”
“Keep me? I’m not his pet.” Y/N rolled her eyes and sunk down in her seat, ignoring Alice’s laugh as she started to pull her hair back into a bun.
After almost a whole hour of Alice using her as a human Barbie doll she finished, walking Y/N over to the floor length mirror that she had on the other side of the room once she had let her step into her prom dress which Alice had bought her and refused to tell her the price of. She had to say, despite her reluctance for Alice to get her ready - and the amount of times she’d tried to duck away from her when she brought a makeup brush near her face, which ended in Alice holding her face still with another glare - she did look somewhat beautiful. Her hair was pulled back into a bun with a few loose strands framing her face, a dark blue flower clip holding it up that matched the colour of the dress she wore; a floor length dress that wasn’t too flashy, though still managed to have some sort of wow factor. Her makeup wasn’t as heavy as she thought Alice had made it, either, with just enough glam to match the style of the dress.
Alice had already gotten ready before she’d gone to kidnap Y/N, so she was stood behind her by the mirror in an equally glamorous dress which only the Cullens would show up to a high school prom in. Sighing Y/N fiddled with the lace of her dress, meeting Alice’s gaze in the mirror.
“You’re going to have fun, Y/N,” Alice told her, and when Y/N opened her mouth to protest she merely rolled her eyes and tapped the side of her head. “I’ve already seen it. I can see the future remember?”
“Thanks Alice.” She grumbled, and Alice tutted as she shook her head.
“I’m going to pretend that wasn’t sarcastic because we need to get going. Your Prince Charming is downstairs waiting for you. And don’t even try to run away, Y/N, because I will carry you the whole way there." Alice threatened, and Y/N believed her. She was scary when she was determined on something.
“I’m not going to run away. There’s no point trying in these stupid heels.” Y/N huffed, looking down at the shoes that could snap her ankle if she wasn’t careful. She’d definitely be holding onto Jasper all night so she wouldn’t fall.
Y/N took one last look at herself in the mirror, almost insecure at the thought of herself in comparison to her boyfriends effortlessly gorgeous family, before she turned and walked out of Alice’s room with the smaller girl right behind her.
Jasper was stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for her, and how was she supposed to compare to him? He was absolutely flawless, a creature made to be that beautiful, and she was just his plain human girlfriend. She wasn’t even sure what he saw in her really. He was wearing a suit that didn’t even seem to have one crease in it, a dark blue tie that matched the colour of her dress around his collar. Alice must’ve picked it for him.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs she didn’t hesitate before stepping into his open arms, and sighed as she relaxed into the cold embrace. Never did she think that the cold would be so comforting.
“Stop it,” Jasper mumbled into her hairline, and it caused a blush to form over her cheeks when she realised her could feel her insecurity. He let his hands rest on her shoulders and pulled her back enough to look at her, her head having to tilt upwards to see him due to the height difference. “You’re beautiful, darlin’, stop comparing yourself.” Her face was flaming when his cold hand rested on her cheek, and she sighed as she leaned into the stone touch.
“Sorry, it’s kinda hard when my boyfriend looks like he’s been sculpted by the gods and I look like a child’s clay figure.” Y/N mumbled, causing his thumb to tap her cheek in reprimand to her words, shaking his head.
“What did I say?” He raised his eyebrows, and she rolled her eyes, though kept her mouth shut.
His hand left her cheek and not a moment later was he holding a corsage out towards her; the same colour as his tie and her dress. “Y/N,” Jasper started, a slight smirk over his lips as he knew what her answer would he already. “Will you go to the prom with me?”
“It’s not like I have any other choice,” She sighed, though yelped in surprise when Alice was suddenly beside her to pinch her arm. “I mean yes of course.” She corrected, and satisfied with her answer, Alice smiled and was gone again.
Jasper chucked at the interaction as he gently lifted her hand so he could gently slip the corsage into her wrist, securing it gently, before his cold fingers were grasping her’s and he lifted her hand to gently press his cold lips to the soft skin of the back of his hand.
She knew that he was still pretty reserved when it came to physical affection. Hugs he could handle, and gentle touches on her arm and back, though she knew his struggle with bloodlust so she knew that actual kisses were few and far between. Which she really didn’t mind, because touched like that, a kiss to the back of her hand, meant so much more - and sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach and a pink tint to settle over her cheeks.
Jasper must’ve felt the shift in her emotions because he smiled fondly and gave a gentle squeeze to her hand before he let it go again.
“Shall we?” He gestured to the door, which was now open as Alice left the house, sending Y/N a warning look as she did.
“We shall.” Managing a smile she linked her arm with his and allowed him to walk her out of the house towards the Cullen’s many expensive cars, managing to forget about any of her insecurities to just enjoy the night with her boyfriend. And not give Alice a reason to actually kill her.
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v1oletvenus · 3 years
Text
marauders & co. reacting to...
meeting your parents (at a fancy wizard ball)
mini headcanons - could be platonic, could be romantic, all up to you :) my interpretations of what the marauders would do in this scenario. series inspired by professormae on tiktok!
let me know any other characters you want added / if you want a golden trio version! <3 and pls send requests for scenarios for me to add to this series, if you like! enjoy!
masterlist for this series - coming soon once i've written more
james potter
F/F/N = father's first name | M/F/N = mother's first name
btw I'm sorry marlene isn't in this one because I have writer's block 🤣 I'll try to add hers later <3
"There you are, Y/n!" James exclaimed jovially.
"I see you've met my parents..." you said hesitantly as you moved under his outstretched arm.
You had sort of wanted to be there when they met, just to invigilate the interaction, should James' out of pocket jokes accidentally be taken literally by your folks.
Fortunately, your reservations were short lived.
Your parents were tearing up in laughter as their conversation continued.
James was retelling some hilarious anecdote about Effie and Monty's school days, which they spent with your parents at Hogwarts.
You had no idea what was so funny, but you smiled regardless as your parents appeared to love James immediately.
The interaction spanned what felt like a lifetime, and not before long, you were growing bored with all their inside jokes flying over your head.
"Think our Y/n wants you all to herself now, James." your mother teased, making you roll your eyes with an embarassed smile as you leaned into him.
"How about a drink?" he asked, looking down at you. You nodded, smiling.
"Not firewhiskey, mind!" your father called to the both of you as you walked away, a humorous smile in his voice.
"Wouldn't dream of it, F/F/N!" He called back, chuckling and shaking his head as your Dad did the same.
You stared at him, dumbstruck, as he poured out some lemonade for the both of you.
He noticed, a smile broadening on his face as he passed you your glass.
"What?"
"You're on a first name basis with them, already?"
sirius black
"So which one's Sirius, then?" your Mum asked, scanning the small crowd of teenagers who occupied their designated corner of the large room.
"That one there." you pointed discreetly to him, as he laughed with some friends about something.
"Hope he's not as horrible and peculiar as the rest of his family." your father commented into his glass, sipping on his drink.
"Dad!" you scolded, nudging him. "He's nothing like them." you muttered, as you meandered through the crowd.
Sirius slipped his hand in yours happily after you'd asked him if he wanted to meet your folks.
"Sirius Black. It's a pleasure to meet you."
What with his eloquent manner of speaking and the influence of his lessons in decorum as a child, Sirius had charmed the socks off both of your parents as soon as he shook both of their hands.
They were quickly reassured that he was most certainly not 'horrible and peculiar' like his cruel mother and father - he was charming, and confident... but a relentless flirt.
"I could've sworn, Mrs L/n, that I thought you were Y/n's older sister from across the room."
Your mother's fit of increduous but flattered laughter was not to be missed as your eyes widened at Sirius' words.
Flirting with your mother of all people! Did his antics know no bounds?
Fortunately, your father found this more amusing than anything.
After Sirius had left, his positive impression on your parents still remained a topic of conversation.
"He reminded me of myself when I was your age." Your father lamented.
He secretly found Sirius quite cool, and played it off by trying to convince you that he, too, used to be the biggest flirt around Hogwarts, and that his pickup lines used to catch all the ladies.
"Gross, Dad."
"He's just speaking the truth, darling. Worked on me, didn't it?" your Mum added with a giggle as both your parents pondered their romantic memories.
Bleugh.
remus lupin
"It's lovely to meet you, Mr and Mrs L/n."
Sweet in nature, attentive in listening, and intelligent in conversation - what was not to like about Remus upon first encounter?
Your parents took a liking to him straight away, as they were taken aback by how he could contribute to their debates about current issues in the wizarding world, with extensive knowledge about almost everything they brought up.
The impressiveness of his knowledge didn't suppress your parents curiosity about the scars that littered his face.
They kept their tact, of course, but you noticed their eyes examining him.
You weren't sure if they'd have different thoughts about him had they known what happens to him on full moons, but that was another conversation for another day.
"Well, it was fantastic to talk to you, Remus. I think you might be a young professor in the making." Your Mum suggested as the conversation came to a close.
"Godric, Rem, that'd be perfect for you!" you exclaimed, squeezing his hand in yours as he grinned bashfully.
"I can only dream."
peter pettigrew
"It's n-nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs L/n."
Peter was nervous for the entire interaction, stumbling over his consonants and tripping over his vowels as your parents engaged him in small talk.
Though they could sense his anxiety from a mile away, they merely found his stuttering endearing.
"Merlin, I messed that up." Peter cursed himself after the two of you had left your parents' company.
You giggled, shaking your head as you fiddled with his bow tie.
"No you didn't. I could tell they adored you. Everyone does, you're too sweet not to like."
"Really?" he held hope in his eyes as he slowly began to smile down at you.
"Really."
regulus black
For all his experience with large wizarding events, Regulus was quite reserved, though eternally polite.
After you and he had finished a dance together, your parents approached the two of you, amused grins on their faces.
"So you're the famous Regulus Black." Your Dad pondered, as he shook his hand. "Oh, Y/n has told us all about you." he teased.
"Daaad!" you groaned, annoyed at his embarassing you.
Regulus slightly froze, but he recovered quickly with a small joke.
"Don't believe any of her stories - it's all lies."
That earned him a bellow of laughter from both your parents.
"It was great to meet you both." Regulus smiled at the end of the exchange.
"Oh, you're so cute." your Mum cooed at him, making him stifle a laugh as his ears turned red.
You waited till your parents had walked away before you turned to him, a sneaky grin on your lips.
He hated being called that.
But regardless, you teased him, grinning while fixing his tie.
"I mean, you are pretty cute."
"Shut up."
lily evans
You approached the red-haired girl and your parents just as they were laughing at something she'd said.
"Lily, you're an absolute delight!" your Mum complimented.
"Thank you, Mrs L/n. Oh, and I'll be sure to owl over those recipes I mentioned."
"Please, call me M/F/N, poppet."
You'd never seen anyone make a better impression with your parents so quickly before.
I mean, Lily is perfect - smart, charismatic, and funny to boot.
You grinned as your parents eagerly continued their conversation with her.
"Oh, Y/n, your parents are so lovely." she would tell you after they'd left.
"To you." you'd smile. "They're probably wondering if its too late to adopt you to replace me!"
mary macdonald
"Mrs L/n, I'm telling you. Orange is definitely your colour."
You had somehow left your parents and Mary to get drinks, while they were making small talk about school, and came back to her giving them both fashion advice.
"Do you think so?" your mother genuinely pondered.
"I know so. There's this spell I used the other day that painted my nails for me. It was amazing, I'll show you."
After a while, your parents had on what looked like completely different outfits to the ones they'd walked in with, as Mary had shown them several spells to modify their choices to their 'full potential'.
"Your friend Mary is a bit of a wild card, isn't she?" your father chuckled after she'd left, looking down at his now spotty suit that she'd altered with magic.
"I liked her plenty. Gave us plenty of useful spells." Your Mum defended.
"Well, she's right M/F/N, orange definitely is your colour, love." your Dad flirted.
"AGH!" you screeched dramatically as you saw him lean in to kiss your mother. "MY EYES!"
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husbandohunter · 3 years
Note
Dottore with short drabble “You only ever brought me pain and I’m sick of it.”
Something angsty pls? Thank you!
Tainted Glass [Dottore x Reader/Genshin Impact]
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Synopsis: Can you escape the prison you made?
(A twisted Cinderella story. The girl was covered in cinders because she was fatally addicted to drowning in flames.)
Warnings: angst, emotional abuse, violence, death
(A/n): To be honest anon, I didn’t know what the word ‘drabble’ means until I googled it. I uh...hope you don’t mind the length :> 
-----------------------
You fell back against the cold hard floor with your arms bent and head turned sideways. The stinging pain spreads across your cheek. It burns. But your mind was still trying to register what had just came into fruition. 
Why?
The thought was so foreign somehow as if you could hardly believe he was doing this. But then the scene plays in your head again. You froze, your gaze enlarged and clueless while staring at the pale ground as it slowly begins to darken in the seeping movement of his menacing, haunting shadow. 
"Insolent woman, you wretch!" He spat in a disgusted tone, "How dare you speak to me in such demanding manner? Have I already told you, only talk when you have something important to say?"
You didn't respond, rather you merely let the strands fall in front of your vision as you gingerly pressed your hand against the place where he hit you. 
I…don't quite understand…
Dottore glowers down at your hunched form. He was never a man known for the virtue of patience. This man, the one who calls him your husband, you learned a long time ago to not meet his eyes as they would signal a hint of dominance amidst his authority, especially during moments like these. You came to feel his eyes instead, they were usually intense and full of wrath, sometimes crazed and curious while looking at his finest creations. He always loved experimenting in his labratory. After all, it was the only thing that could truly make the madman smile.
What is it that I'm missing? Where did I go wrong?
And you would do anything to obtain at least a fraction of the love he had left in his heart. 
He marches onward with heavy footsteps, paying no mind to your well-being, "Tch get out of my sight. I don't have the time to entertain with anymore these theatrics."
At the sound of him leaving you darted your attention towards him, "Wait, come back. Come back, " you plea softly, "Hector…" But he ignores your call. The back of your fiance disappears behind the door and slams it with a resounding thud. He was gone. You couldn't save him.
"No," As a result, you burried your face into your palms and cried.
“I'm sorry.”
What is love?
Being raised in one of the most prestigious bloodlines of Fontaine, a life filled with riches since your parents were well known scholars throughout Teyvat, they provided you and your family with everything you needed. From exquisite dishes to priceless jewelry, yet even among those riches you never did find an answer to your question. They were tangibles and short-lasting, eventually leaving you with nothing until the glass of your heart was filled empty. They seemed to have cared more about their fortune along with the brightest child of their family line, your brother, a male heir, someone who fulfilled their expectations where you couldn't do so. And because he was able to give them what they wanted, he was loved.
I see, love is conditional.
Realizing that you possessed no talent to achieve what your brother had accomplished, you came to accept that you were undeserving of their love. Love was for the smart. Love was for the gifted.  Love was for everything you are not. There was no place for your kind and thus you locked yourself up in your bedroom chambers along with your fragile heart where no one would try to find you, picking up the books upon the shelves and getting lost in their fantasies. 
They told you many beautiful things about the world and many reasons why it was so tragic. Because they weren't real. The story begins with a princess who was a kind-hearted soul, deprived from the care of her evil stepmother and dreams of marrying a prince from a land far far away. They often end on a happily ever after with the princes finding her one true love. You've never seen anything like it. Where two people, despite the struggles they went through, loved each other unconditionally.
Unconditional love only exists in dreams.
Or so you thought to believe.
One day a man marched right at the doorsteps of your mansion. He was a student coming all the way from Sumeru Academia and had high hopes of building a business partnership with your father. The man was declined of course, you watched from the garden bushes as he was sent off back into his carriage. He stops abruptly and turns his head ajar to catch your figure, his inquisitive eyes were both striking and sharp. Like thorns of a rose that was ready to prick anyone who dares to come close. Even so, they made a very lasting impression.
Red eyes.
It was the first time that someone had looked your way.
Couple of months later, the government had arranged a grand ball where all nobles would gather and commit to building their social circle. Useless events. There was no reason for you to engage. While your parents were occupied with the latest gossips and your brother surrounded by fathers who were eager to marry their daughters to him, you snuck outside to the balcony and hid away from the crowd. Quiet at last. And as things should be. The moon was your only friend because she was just like you; half empty. Maybe that was why you still had a glimmer of hope for the other half to be filled. 
Part white, you inquired, pristine and untainted. From far away it looked similar to snow. 
"My, how pleasantly surprising."
While the other part was stained with black cinders.
You glanced over your shoulder to see a man leaning against the pillar. His mint coloured bangs were slicked back in a trendy fashion, complimenting the white suit he adorned himself with. The golden chains hanging around his ebony boots dangled and clanged with each step he took forward until the light finally reveals his face.
"You seem familiar," you say while squinting your eyes, "Are you the person my father rejected back in February?"
He quirks one brow and you were afraid if you had offended him. But before you could utter an apology, the man splits his lips into a toothy grin and bursts out into a maniac-like laughter. He was completely insane, you thought to yourself. Though he paid no mind to your discomfort and continued to dwell in his amusement, "Hahaha straightforward, I like it! So what if I am? Is it a requirement to be a noble for me to simply have a chat?"
"And if I may ask why?"
"Hmmm, why?" The man reaches for the balcony and presses his back there. He threw his head backward before drilling his ruby gaze into yours, "I too am not fond of annoying crowds. Those snobbish fools thinking they're above everyone else just because they have a couple of mora when that is all they are worth. It's almost too hilarious for my own good."
You could tell there was disdain in his tone. Mainly towards your father who were one of the many unkind nobles of Fontaine and was only liked because of his success. Gripping your hands upon the stone railings, you looked down at the distant trees below while the wind rustled them apart, "I can't deny that," you say dissapointedly, "It's common for nobles not to associate with lower classes as it could potentially ruin their image. Though I may not have been there but I'm sure you had much to offer in terms of your brilliance, erm, Mister…?"
"Hector," Hector placed a palm on his chest with a polite bow following suit, "Hector Dufour-Lapointé. It is a pleasure to make you an acquaintance Lady (Y/n)."
"You know my name?"
"How could I not?" Hector smirks lazily as he danced around you, "I saw you before hiding behind the rose bushes back in your estate. Quite curious why you didn't attempt to say hello."
He even remembers that too. You fiddled with the fabric of your dress, "My apologies. I'm not use to socializing so much."
“Is that so? I think you're not giving yourself enough credit," he complimented while shrugging, "This is much more entertaining than hanging in that insufferably crowded room, it was an unexpected occurence to meet you here of all places. However, I must say time can fly if I'm able to enjoy myself."
You shifted away from his stare, "You flatter me. We've only been talking for a few minutes."
"I have yet to realize it then" Hector's cheerfulness remains at stance despite your gloomy response. He leans forward like a curious child and tosses you a question, "Then allow me to ask, what brings you out here Lady (Y/n)? I don't see any reason when your family are such highly respected people of Fontaine." 
"I'm not like them!" You retort instantly, causing the man to glance at you with skepticism, "I mean, I have nothing to do with them and they have nothing to do with me. That's just how it is. They already have Clement after all…"
Why am I telling him this?
"Ah your brother I assume. Yes so I've heard much about his genius mind. There were a few instances where he and I collaborated at Sumeru Academia," Hector speaks as if regarding to his unpleasant memories, "Although he never said anything about having a sister."
"We're not that close. And I'm not very fond of him," you confessed bluntly.
"Neither am I," Hector agreed with a scowl, "He claims his position using the knowledge derived from history books but never tries to think beyond the norm. That ignorant mindset of his will surely be his downfall one day."
"Ignorance can lead to anyone's downfall. If they turn a blind eye to the truth, so much can be taken from them," you paused shortly from rambling too much, "That's what I read in books at least."
"As expected of your lineage," he sighs whimsically, "Such avid readers."
"Well my family prefers documents and research. I've gone through them too but I will always love reading fiction."
"Ha! Seems you really are trying to be different from the rest of your family."
Seconds turn to minutes and minutes to hours, you had already forgotten about the cold breeze despite your dress being less than ideal for the outdoors. The man, although he can be a little to blathering at times, was more than what seemed to be on the surface. At first you thought of him as someone here to take advantage of your relations to your father but he seemed so sincere when listening to your stories, so eager while expressing his thoughts and even made you laugh a couple of times. You didn't realize that the clock had already struck twelve as the guests were preparing to leave but you just weren't ready to do the same.
"Until next time (Y/n)," he takes your fingers and pressed a kiss on top of them, though you were more struck by how he addressed you without honorifics, "I look forward to speaking with you again."
A warm smile graces your lips as you cursty, "Likewise Hector. Thank you for listening to me. I know I must have taken a long time."
Hector sneered but you already learned that it was simply his way of expressing amusement, "Hardly. I was thoroughly entertained."
When your parents found out about your meeting with him, they made it clear that you would never see him again. Hector Dufour-Lapointé is what he calls himself but the real name behind this man was Hector Valliere who came from a village hidden in the west of Fontaine. Rumours said that he was chased out of his hometown by an angry mob, claiming him to be a madman conducting unethical experiments on humans. Shortly after his arrival in Sumeru, he abandoned his past identity and replaced it with a new one in order to enter the academy under legal supervision. Associating with a man of a suspicious reputation would only cause harm to your family's name. Though you could barely care much about their reputation. There was nothing for you to benefit from it.
Few weeks have passed and you evetually gave up on the thought of hearing from Hector. They were only fleeting moments, nothing more. Your routine would stay the same as you kept on plucking more books off the shelves, killing whatever time you had. However the activities you used to enjoy somehow lost it's flair and there would be a slight pain in your chest whenever you turn to a page with the princess as she is surrounded by her friends. What exactly changed? Your family still treated you the same. Did you suddenly grow bored from doing the same thing everyday? Why is it that you feel much more lonelier despite being alone for so long? It was hard to tell in a singular perspective. If only there was someone here to give you some insights on things you couldn't see…
A silver bird lands by your front window and you nearly fell out of your chair as it flapped their wings violently. A machine?! They dropped what seems to be an envelope within the thick bushes before taking off and buzzing into the evening sky. You switched off the lock and lifted the glass within a single movement, snatching the piece of paper so that the wind wouldn't blow it away. Hastily you opened it. Both curious and cautious of why would anyone send you mail in such a discreet approach.
Chère Mademoiselle (Y/n),
I can only imagine the shock of your expression once reading this letter. I'm only writing to you since I assume that your father had already told you those nasty rumours about my past. No matter. I trust that you have a good head on your shoulders to not prejudge people using such miniscule details. I wish to speak with you again. Unless you have other plans staying in that stuffy room of yours, meet me behind the clock tower at 11:00 p.m. Don't be late.
Bien à vous,
H.
"It really is him!" The happiness spreads all across your features as you clutched the letter to your chest. For some reason, your heart wouldn't stop racing. It was a simple yet thoughful action on his part but despite how short his greeting was, every word held the weight of a thousand sparks, "I…I can't stop smiling."
And without hesitation, you prepared to leave. No one noticed your absence.
-------
It was only halfway where you realized that Hector didn't give many details redgarding why he planned this sudden event. You caught sight of him standing under the roofs with his hands hidden behind his back. He had on his signature lopsided grin, brows uneven as he glanced at you casually.
"How very punctual, were you so eager that you couldn't wait?" He teases.
"I was surprised when your bird knocked upon my window," you inform, "Is it something urgent?"
"Not at all. I merely wanted to catch up with old times," Hector tilts forward to emphasize his suggestion, "Care to indulge me for a bit?"
You crossed your arms, "Then what is it that you're hiding behind your back?"
"Hmm?" He hums, "You mean this?"
"Ah!"
Roses. A bouquet of bright red flowers were presented to you, nicely wrapped in fabric. In the language of Fontaine, recieving them could mean multiple of things and you couldn't help but feel hesitant despite his thoughtful gesture, "Why are you giving me this?"
"Is it so wrong for me to be a gentleman? I thought it would be best to prepare you a gift after you put all that effort to come out in such a late hour," Hector mused to himself, "Especially when you had to make sure no prying eyes would catch us."
You let out a small laugh before accepting the bouquet, "I wouldn't go as far to say that."
"Oh?" Although it was hard to see, Hector managed to catch a glimpse of your flushed cheeks hidden behind the flowers. A darken smirk climbs onto his face at the inviting thought of what it could mean, "Tell me more."
The whole night you both spent walking around the empty plaza with only the stars as your guide. They paved a silver path reflected in the horizon above, free flowing like one of the many watercolour paintings hung in your chambers, uncertain where they may lead but you followed them regardless. If it weren't for Hector's inivtation you might have never known about the parts of your city due to the restricted lifestyle you lived. He listened to every one of them. The stories you had to tell when there was no one for you to talk to and the complaints about your brother whenever he wanted to snitch on your actions just to get the praise out of your father. You expressed your frustrations when speaking about your incompetences, joy after reading a good fairytale book written by your favourite author, there was so much to say that you were worried if Hector soon grew tired from them.
"Go on. I'm listening."
And your heart flutters again. Suddenly everything felt so light with each step you took, it was as if you walked across the stars in the sky rather than the heavy pavement of the ground you called your home. But even if happiness was a bliss, it tormented you. Because companionship made you realize how poor your were all along. That you had everything yet you had nothing, slowly withering away like the roses you held in your hand. Convinced that your existence was worth nothing more than nothing itself. Doomed to be dismissed and forgotten. Rotting away...Hector stays by your side as you cried softly into the night.
From a distance the bell rings and echoes just like the time before during Fontaine's grand ball. Hector shows you a secret route so that no one could find you.
"Will you write to me again?"
The request was so innocent, purely from genuine intentions and devoided of anything he had in mind. Hector would always laugh in these situations when things have gone unexpectedly yet pleasingly his way but held back knowing that it would be foolish to waste such a priceless opportunity. And so he gave you his smile, one full of secrets where you had mistakened it as a promise, "Of course my dear."
Every night you could no longer fall asleep since he had occupied your thoughts completely. Sometimes you'd dream of him and their tales would unfold similarly to the ones you have read. It gone to the point where the maids would have to wake you up during late afternoons due to the dramatic change in your sleep schedule. Though, you didn't care what they did to you. As long as no one found out about your secret rendezvous.
You never thought that there'd be a day where you would voluntarily give up reading your beloved fairytales. They were now replaced by a stash of his letters that have been accumulated over the past few months. You read them each day, pacing back and forth within the walls of your room, whispering his sentences as if he were the one saying them to you. He made you feel special. You were addicted to this feeling. Eventually you managed to memorize his words by heart. 
The pages of your diary were filled with notes. Like your very own  fairytale carved into reality. From the rose petal, now dried, to the hairpin he snatched from a distracted merchant and a single strand of his hair you found within your cloak after a warm embrace, all of these items, a remnant of the man you loved were taped up in these pages. Sometimes you could even feel his prescence because it was all you needed. It didn't matter if Clement threw insults about how worthless your existence was, your parents could lock you in this prison if they wanted to but they shall never take away Hector from you. Never. You swear it. He was your whole world and the prince who saved you from a life made of aching emptiness. You would do anything to keep him by your side. Anything to gain his affection.
Anything.
"I had a feeling that you were the culprit dear sister."
Your arms stutters as they clutched tightly on the scrolls you took off from the shelves. The light crept into the room like arms reaching out to clutch around your ankles, warning you for trespassing. You turned around dreadfully to see Clement pressing his shoulder against the doorframe with his arms folded and a wicked expression aimed at your pitiful state.
"Why…Why are you still awake?" You say in disbelief, "I thought everyone was asleep."
"Please. Not only are you shameless but hypocritical as well. You truly are a dissapointment to our family."
"Wait," taking a step forward, you stopped him before he makes his exit, "I'll put them back. Just don't tell father about this."
But like your parents, your brother was unkind. Clement doubles over and hugs his torso, cackling through his teeth, "Is that how it is?" He swipes his arm up and you see a parchment paper held between his fingers. 
"No!"
"Ma chérie (Y/n). I must say all this tenacious effort of sneaking in my letters to your window is becoming more and more tiresome. But of course, you are an exception. I want the scrolls you've mentioned the other day at my lair tomorrow evening. Make sure no one discovers this. I'm counting on you. Cordialement! Hector."
"No…" you whispered, feeling the weight of the world fall upon your shoulders as it shattered apart. Hector. If possible, you hoped that the pieces could just crush you right then and there. Your knees felt weak and a fright takes over but despite your turmoil, Clement didn't show a shred of sympathy.
"So this is why you've been acting odd lately. Pathetic," he flaps the paper tauntingly in his grasp, "I can't decide if I should be impressed or baffled by your actions. A secret romance with a criminal and the bloodline of Fontaine's most respected government associates? Even though you've hit rock bottom, you still decided to dig deeper."
"Clement you don't understand!"  Stumbling upon your footsteps, you desperately tried to convey your predicament even if it meant feeding his ego, "Hector is not the man you think. He was shunned by the people of his hometown, treating him as if he were nothing. They…They ignored him! All this time he needed someone to recognize his brilliance, someone to understand." Shakily, you brought your tensed arms to your chest and screamed a silent whisper, "Someone to listen but no one did. He must have felt so alone…"
Clement flinches when you suddenly clutched onto his biceps. When he looked into your eyes, a shiver ran down his spine.
"Hector is counting on me. I'm the only one who can save him. No one else. He needs me Clement, he needs me!" 
"Tch."
An ear-splitting scream of his hand against your face echoes across the room. It knocked you out of your stance and you bumped into the table, grunting while the scrolls to tumbled to the floor.
"Crazy woman, I'm embarassed to be related to you!"
While you were still trying to regain your balance, your brother had already ran off. It wouldn't be long before he alerted your parents, the clock ticking away like sand until the final hour leaves you with nothing but an empty glass. 
"No," despair swallows the strength away from your legs and you crawled towards where he used to stand, "Don't take him away from me…I need him…"
I can't live without him.
I can't live without him.
I can't live without him.
Tears begin to form by the corners of your eyes as you clenched your teeth. This was no time to cry. Balling your fists, you sprinted out of the room, pushing whatever stood in your way as if you were running for your life. 
And if you considered everything else, it wasn't that far from the truth.
-------
"Hector! Hector are you there?" After arriving upon his house, you began knocking on his door aggressively. The lock clicks and you were greeted by an evidently annoyed man gnawing his teeth together.
"Tsk. There better be a good reason-"
"They're coming for us! We have to go. Now. Before it's too late. My father is probably already waking and making arrangements for you to-"
"Enough, I can't even catch what you're saying," He pinches the bridge of his nose while you were still stuck in a frenzy state. He takes a step back and opens the door wider, gesturing for you to come inside, "Get in already. I have a feeling that this will be a long night."
Hector observes intently at the words you tell him.
Not out of concern but akin to the way he watches the insects react when he exposes them to a different environment.
He was a scientist after all. A madman in which you deliberately fell in love with, so much to the point that he was able to feel pity for once. How you trusted him wholeheartedly with all of your vulnerabilities, emotions and secrets like handing him your parts just so he could put you back together again. Tinkering was always one of his favourite hobbies and he couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride at the thought of you being completely wrapped around his finger. 
Perhaps that was the reason why he loved you. Because he didn't love you. He loved you in parts.
"It was only a matter of time," Hector sighs. He sneaks his grasp into yours, knowing how much it affects you and puts on an invisible mask of deciet, "I already knew this day would happen long before anyone could have predicted it."
"You did?" With worried eyes you gazed at him, "What shall we do then?"
Knowing he hit the target, his lips begin to curl up towards his ears, showing his sharp white teeth that shone against the dim-litted room. Hector asks, "Do you love me?"
A silly question. You didn't hesitate to answer, "Of course I do. I've said it many times."
"Prove it to me," Forcing his forehead against yours, Hector commands in a dangerously low tone, "Kill your brother and only then you can truly be mine."
Your brain sutters, trying to absorb what he had just said. Kill? As in to take a life? It sounded wrong. But...was it wrong if the life belonged to someone who ruined yours?
Dumbfoundedly, you glanced into the bloody orbs of your lover, his black pupils thinning into knives while burning in the hellfire of his true colours. Hector runs a hand from the scalp of your hair, down to your cheek before gingerly sliding his fingers at your jawline. He pulled you close and whispered into your ear.
"Are you scared?"
Ah, this wasn't about your feelings. This was about him and your future and there could be no future you without him by your side.
You let your eyelids drop and leaned into his touch, "I could never be scared of you Hector. Whether it is within my power or not, I will make sure no one gets in our way. I swear it."
"Good," he continues to have you feed on his affection, "I knew I could count on you."
-----------
The news of your brother's death filled every headline Fontain had to offer. He was driven off a cliff while making a trip towards Sumeru. No one survived. The remains were so crushed to the point that authorities had trouble identifying their bodies. The only explanation they could come up with by observing the leftover tracks was that the horse must have gone out of control and ended up dragging the carriage along with it.
Ha. Serves him right.
Food poisoning. The vial Hector made was very effective. You made sure to bury it away from your mansion.
With no other choice, you became your family's next heir. Hector notifies you that he would be away for several months to solidify a unique connection with a man hailing from Snezhnaya. You didn't think he would arrive at your doorsteps with so much authority. Fatui soldiers followed from behind as the staff paved a way for them to enter. Your father was clearly displeased by his outrageous approach but he knew he was in no place to deny.
"Upon the agreement between Fontaine and Snezhnaya, Lady (Y/n) will become Harbinger Il Dottore's wife," the Duke announces, "This news will be publicly announced at the end of October."
Dottore? Is that what he calls himself?
As if claiming his victory, Dottore shoots your father a devilish smile. You could feel the dining table shake when he kept pressing his fist against the smooth surface, begrudingly congratulating you both for the new engagement. Your mother bursted into tears.
Was it worth it?
You watched both of your parents mourn silently in their own manner. Perfectly knowing that you were the main cause. But you weren't able to feel any sadness because in the end, you now had everything you've ever wanted. 
The inheritance.
Their attention.
But most of all, him.
And when you were convinced that this was your happily ever after, that fairytales were not just beautiful lies for the sake of comfort, you didn't realize  you were already living a life made of beautiful lies conjured by your own mind for the sake of your own comfort. 
"You're nothing without me."
Dried and calloused hands squeezed around your throat as you flailed your legs against the soft fabric of the carpet floor. He encases you in a straddling position, enjoying the sight of your tortured and clenched face. Hector…no, Dottore hated it when you disobeyed him. He despised it when his creations don't work the way he wanted them to and he had no use for things that are broken.
"G-hka--k..-"
"How many times do I have to remind you to not use my birthname. Do those ears of you even function properly? Or must I fix them myself?"
You gasped for air when he relaxed his grip. Vision a blur, you coughed a few times before he pulls your arm so that you lay flushed against his chest.
"Don't forget who saved you dear (Y/n). Because of me you were able to escape that miserable life you've despised for years. I expect the utmost gratitude on your part at all times, it is only fair that I punish you for not meeting my requirements, don't you agree?" Dottore lifts his hand up to pinch your cheeks, pulling your head to stare at your eyes, "After all, there is no one else in this world who can put up with you…but me."
His words were poison in which you drank like a woman starved. It made you feel numb to the pain the more you drowned in their alluring scent, the taste was sweet, a remedy for the bitterness of reality where the man of your dreams was nothing but a cruel monster. You came to believe that the reason why he treated you so harshly was because he was scared of losing you. You were caught in the trap of what seemed to be love and devotion when truly, you were just a toy to be used at a means end. He breaks you and he puts you back together, over and over again, filling in between the cracks formed in your glass heart with the phrases you loved to hear. Just like how he filled the other holes of your life where no one else did. You called it kindness. He saw it as entertainment.
Most people pay attention to the flower's beauty but they never acknowledge the thorns hidden beneath it's blossom.  That is why they bleed. They get hurt. Though, you didn't mind shedding blood if it was for his sake.
Because you would do anything for him.
You would do anything to bring back the memories of Hector Dufour-Lapointé and save him from the Harbinger that ruined his life. Your life. It wasn't his fault. You knew you could change him to what he was before because you were in love with him, that he might still in there. Somewhere.
Right?
Please come back.
Time continues to flow like the tears of your dying heart despite yearning for it to turn at the past. Dottore already left the room a long time ago but you didn't. Raising your head away from your hands, you peered at the door in front of you, begging desperately through a chanting record of despondence. 
Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back.
Images, they slipped through your fingers, slowly becoming more distant until your mind began to see them as illusions. Dreams. Things that were not real. Telling you that your life was a lie. 
"Come back to me…Hector."
Because the man you loved was withering in your memories and you couldn't do anything to save him.
A dry croak robbed you of your breath as you turned to look in the mirror.
Worthless. You were always worthless, it was what your parents told you since birth. It was what you became when he wasn't at your side because without him, your existence was worthless. You lied for him, you stole for him you, took a life for him. You destroyed yourself for him to point that it was hard to believe you were even looking at yourself.
Worthless. It's who I am.
And despite it all, you couldn't obtain his love.
(Crack).
Worthless things don’t deserved to be loved.
(Crack. Crack).
But what if it’s because I’m worthless, that he won’t love me back?
(Crack).
Your eyes jolted open, causing you to gasp sharply. When the sweet lies dispersed in your head and cleansed you of deceit, everything started to make sene. You came to realize why your wish was impossible all along.
Dottore...no, Hector, the reason wasn't because he didn't return your feelings. Neither was it due to the fact that he hurt you through his actions. Nor when he made you cry or scream for help before feeding you with more lies, thinking he would never hurt you again. It was none of those things.
It was because the man you loved this whole time was someone who could love no one but himself.
"Ha...haha," sucking in your breath, a sinister laugh escapes your mouth, "Hahahahahahaha.....!"
Everything was worthless.
You grabbed a nearby hairbrush and threw it at the mirror, watching yourself shatter into a million pieces.
There was only one thing left to do. 
------
"Ugh, where is it?!"
It was late into the night where every staff had gone to sleep. The Harbinger fumbles with his keys while standing at the door of his basement as he was too busy proceeding with his research rather than considering the thought of rest. Usually he acted upon them on his own will, performing various experiments for enjoyment. However, ever since the Snezhnayan court had requested him to look into the ancient arts of alchemy, Dottore was forced to carry it out before the deadline approached. Otherwise his position as Harbinger would be revoked.
"What a bunch of self-centered blockheads. Can't they understand that it take quality time to get quality results?"
Most of his important documents were stored on the otherside. Half of it came from his father-in-law's library. He had you to thank for that.
"Ah finally," he mutters, though still dissatisfied, "I should have a word with my butler for misplacing them."
Dottore shoves the key into the lock but instead of twisting the knob he noticed something strange. It was old and had yet to be fixed but somehow he didn't have any trouble adjusting his wrist. Then he saw there were a set of freshly made fingerprints upon the smooth metallic surface. However, the only person awake at this time would be him-
An intruder!
Dottore drops everything to the ground and yanks the door open. He skittered down the stone stairs while cursing under his breath. Using the delusion gifted by the Tsaritsa, the Harbinger activated his lazer-like pillars as he took advantage of their glow to light up the unlit room.
"What in the abyss...?!"
Except it wasn't dark.
"All of these scrolls, I recognize them," without sparing a single glance, you spoke nostalgically towards the bookshelves, "It brings me so much memories..."
Dottore clenches his teeth together as his eyes shone an angry red, you were holding a torch dangerously close to his hard-earned collection, "What do you think you're doing?!" He fumed, "Put that out, AT ONCE! Don't make me repeat myself!
"They're precious to you aren't they?" You finally shifted to face him, "More than me."
"What has gotten into you?" He was about to hurl at you until he saw your torch lowering, causing him to retreat. You were strangely noncholant and he couldn't help the feeling of disturbance. Accepting that he didn't have the upperhand, Dottore decided to use a different approach, "(Y/n)."
The sound of your name falls from his lips. You faltered.
"I'm sorry for what I have done. I know I was dishonourable to you, as your husband and lover, and that you didn't deserve to see me so aggressive. You have every right to express your anger, my dear. I was in the wrong."
It was only a mask. You knew it well. But seeing him with softened eyes and a tone so comforting, made you desperately wanting to run into his arms so he could wipe away your sorrows just like once upon a time. To live happily ever after.
Hector.
Dottore runs his fingers through his hairstrands in frustration and sighs, "However the Tsarista needed me to do something very important and I can't seem to fulfill her request no matter how hard I try. It angers me. If I don't finish this, there would be no place for us to stay."
"Hector..." you sniffled quietly. He looks so much like him right now.
"Can't you see I'm doing this for you?" He consoles, yet his weapons still remain, "I only intended to make you happy and there's nothing I won't do to achieve that. How about I show-"
"Enough."
Dottore froze upon your sudden command. He didn't sense a hint of subjugation and it seemed that you had perfect control of your emotions. How very inquisitive. Did you grow immune to the style of his voice? In such a short period of time? The facade he had on was now replaced with a growling animal-like expression. You looked at him dissapointedly. His Harbinger self returned. Hector was no more.
"Ha, you're the same as always. Even before the time you became a Harbinger. The same man that I fell in love with but it is me who will never be the same again," For a moment you averted your gaze as if trying hard to swallow your own words, "Remember when we first met at the balcony? That I told you my favourite books to read are fiction? I knew they weren't real but deep down, I wanted to believe in them anyways. And you know what? They did come true, to some degree..."
As the memories come flashing back, he defenselessly watches your expression contort from sadness to a calm contemplation and finally, enraged disgust, "But you only ever brought me pain and I'm sick of it!"
Swaying the torch to the side, Dottore flinches forward but he didn't dare to come close when your current state was unpredictable to him, "I JUST WANTED YOU TO LOVE ME," you wail, I just wanted to be loved, bringing a clawed hand against your forehead and trembling upon contact, "It's all that I ask for..."
Dottore narrowed his brows. Perhaps he may have gotten too far.
"But I know it's impossible. The world is a cruel place and there's no point in trying anymore. That is why I'm going to set us free."
"...What do you mean?"
You shut your eyes closed and tossed the flaming torch to the ground. A horrified expression takes over his features. It didn't take long for the fire to begin spreading amongst the room.
"NO!" Dottore yelled powerfully, he frantically darts his gaze at all directions as they continued to flicker and blend into his precious documents. You stood still and watched him grab the ones that were intact, savouring the most he could but they slip out of his arms every time he moved. Dottore glances behind him to see a rising cage of hellfire. Then he turns to you.
" 'Til death do us part!" you laughed maniacally.
The madman looked back with angry dismay, "You're out of your mind!"
Abandoning whatever he held in his hand, Dottore spins around towards the staircase. He covers his face with his sleeve and did whatever he could to prevent the fire from touching him. However, he accidentally stumbled on his footsteps and something fell off the heights, knocking him in the face. He grunts painfully.
"That will leave a scar," you smile while he clutches at his injury, "I can break you too.”
Just like how you broke me.
Knowing that you've managed to leave a mark of your existence on him in someway, you peacefully watched your lover wobble between the hell you created. But the hell you knew was not made of scorching heat and thundering flames. Hell was empty. Hell was a void. This feeling was far too gentle to be considered hell. If he can't return your love, then at least let these caging arms bask you in the warmth you’ve always desired.
Lifting your head, you looked towards the ceiling and closed your eyes.
Ah, this cannot be death.
424 notes · View notes
akaashisbabygirl · 3 years
Text
you’re just a game he likes to play
Tumblr media
pairings: akaashi x female!reader
genre: angst, romance, NSFW 18+
warnings: use of drugs, drinking, vaginal penetration, fingering, oral (female receiving), angst angst angst
words: 2.6k
a/n: i’m sorry for not posting as much. i’ve always wondered how people write really long fics, and here i am. i spent last night + this morning working on this, so i hope you all enjoy <3 this i planned to be a one shot so i probably won’t be doing a part two
‘are you awake right now?’ 
akaashi’s fingers ghosted over his phone, a slight cringe filling his mind as he thought about sending the message. eventually, everyone around him started to pick up on his quiet, drunken tone. 
“who’s the girl you’re texting?” kenma asked.
“it’s no one...” he said back softly, locking his phone. as much as he tried to play it off as if he wasn’t texting anyone, he knew that one of the boys were going to comment about it sooner or later.
“come on man, we all know it’s hayami,” kuroo interrupted. akaashi knew kuroo meant it as a joke. as much as akaashi knew that kuroo was joking, yet there was still that smirk that rested on kuroo’s face that akaashi was so desperate to punch. it had been a year since akaashi had fallen out of love with hayami, a girl he knew he stood no chance with. 
within that year, things had changed. he never used to drink or anything. he had changed so much. it bugged him whenever the other men talked about love and girls. he started to think why it couldn’t be him, why he couldn’t be the one talking about a girl he loves. he wanted to express the love he felt for the girl that ended up catching him by surprise when he least expected. the same type of love that everyone thought was for hayami.
one thing that akaashi was clear of was that he was deeply, and drunkenly in love with you. 
like his friends knew, there had been a time in his life when he was in love with hayami. but after finding out that she had hooked up with one of his high school friends after she had told him that she loved him, akaashi started to fall out of love; and while he was in his broken state was when you came along. just when he needed.
everyone in the group was sure that akaashi was going to always be in love with hayami, only because she was said to be the hottest girl on campus; and he himself was a very good looking guy. everyone wanted her. unfortunately, akaashi’s friends couldn’t see that the love he had once felt for her had now died down into the pit of his chest.
however, despite telling himself that he had fallen out of love with hayami, he also hid behind the thoughts of your beautiful soft hair and the way you felt so small compared to him behind the fact that he still loved hayami. because, what is the point of loving someone who is just your closest friend? 
akaashi brought the glass of alcohol to his lips once more, letting the cold liquid slide down his throat. he sighed as he just about finished his third glass. had the room gotten louder? it had gotten to the point where he couldn’t make out the words of what his friends were saying. it was just too loud. 
he desperately wanted to text you. he wanted to send you cute messages about wanting to cuddle you, and kiss you and about how much he misses your touch and how he loves the feeling of your tiny body against his. after his third glass, those thoughts began to turn sexual. he felt different. had the others given him something? 
he remembered asking kuroo earlier in the night for something that would ‘take his mind off of everything’, maybe kuroo had given him something. his hands held onto the glass again as he watched the man across from him fill his glass again. 
his hands fiddled with his phone again. he so desperately wanted to message you right now, but his mind was clouded with sexual thoughts that he had never thought about before. he thought about how good he would be able to fill you up, how small you would be against him. he closed his eyes and sighed to the thought mentally. he wasn’t a pervert, at least he thought he wasn’t. 
the two of you were just friends. he respected the boundaries of your friendship. he wasn’t going to push you, he didn’t even know if you felt the same way about him. but once again, his mind and everyone around him kept telling him that he was in love with hayami. 
‘stick with the girl that all your friends know you love. you don’t wanna ruin your friendship with her’ said the narrator inside his mind, as if he was telling akaashi what to do instead of letting him figure this madness out on his own. 
akaashi stood up from the chair, making his way to the bathroom. after minutes, he was looking at his messy reflection in the bathroom mirror. he knew it was time to go home. he could see it in his reflection. he was drunk. drunk and in love. he wanted you by his side right now. maybe fixing his jacket or his hair. how you would be on your tiptoes just to try and reach him. how fucking cute. or how you would stand on your tiptoes to try and reach his lips. 
akaashi left the house, standing outside on the street waiting for a cab to pull up.
“what’s the address?” the man asked.
without a thought, he gave the man your street name. space and time had began to blur, his phone in his hands as the thought of you rushed throughout his mind.
you were in your room, sitting on your bed in an oversized shirt. your eyes scanned along the messages what you had just received from akaashi.
‘are you awake?’ 2:43AM
one missed call. 2:49AM
‘i miss you’ 2:54AM
‘i need your touch’ 2:58AM
one missed call. 3:02AM
‘need you so badly’ 3:06AM
he was high.
you knew he was. there was no way in hell akaashi would ever text you like this. he was in love with hayami. you were sure about this. you felt a stinging pain in your chest because it was obvious that you were deeply in love with akaashi keiji. you hated the way you were so badly separated from even being close to a relationship with him because the narrator in your mind always came back to remind you that akaashi was in fact in love with hayami. 
your fingers typed back.
‘i am not hayami. you have the wrong contact’ 3:10AM
there was no reply back. you thought that maybe he reached hayami’s apartment and that he was currently somewhere with her right now. you threw a pillow over your head.
he was such an amazing man. you had fallen in love with the person that he is, how he would always be there whenever you needed him so desperately. he helped you when you were down. it made you mad that hayami only wanted akaashi for his popularity around campus and not for the amazing person that he is.
it was hard to try and get over those feeling that were painfully stabbing your heart. you wanted to be with him. god, you wanted to be with him so fucking badly. but you knew that it would never happen.
because akaashi was in love with hayami.
the sound of knocking on your door threw you out of your haze. you checked your phone. no new messages from him. you opened the door, your eyes widening as his drunken state stood right in front of you. you hated to admit that he always took your breath away, even right now. he was so tall compared to you.
“can i come in?” his voice asked softly.
you nodded your head, opening your door further so he could come inside.
akaashi sat himself down on your couch. he looked lost. he was lost. he watched as you sat down next to him, your eyes not even looking in his direction. 
“are you... um... cold?” he asked, trying to make conversation.
you shook your head, silence running throughout the apartment.
“let me stay,” he blurted out. in fact, he had surprised you.
“you’re drunk,” you hated to admit the fact that his tone was deep and intoxicating. 
your fingers gripped his chin harshly, fingers digging into his jaw. you looked directly into his eyes. “and i don’t want to sit here and listen to you drunkenly express your love for hayami. not tonight.”
he watched as you pulled away from him, “i don’t love hayami! i don’t love her, i don’t know why you would think that!”
you stood up, trying to leave the room. you didn’t want to be around him right now. however, his hand gripping onto your wrist stopped your movement entirely.
without thinking, your hand slapped his cheek. hard. you were so angry. angry at the fact that you kept putting up with the same shit after knowing he didn’t feel the same way about you. tears perked in the corners of your eyes as you tried to control your emotions.
his beautiful face was inches away from yours as he pulled you to sit back down on the couch. his soft lips met yours for the first time. the two of you sighed into the kiss, almost as if it was some sort of relief for the both of you. his kisses were gentle, even if he was messily drunk right now. he was always gentle with you.
a soft groan escaped his lips as you opened your mouth, his tongue finding its way easily. he softly whispered against the kiss, “let me taste you... please.”
so polite.
you pulled your lips from his, looking into his blue coloured eyes. your lips partly opened. he saw your shy little nod.
“that’s my girl.”
the next few minutes had went by slowly. his lips attacked yours, his large hands pulling your body to straddle his waist, your clothed cunt pressing against his growing erection. his hands helped you grind against him as his tongue explored your mouth. your hands held tightly onto his shoulders as his hands grasped your ass.
akaashi stood up, having you stand up with him. he walked you down to your bedroom, his lips stayed attached to yours. 
the two of you made your way into the bedroom, akaashi’s jacket long discarded somewhere on the floor of the apartment. he gently pushed you down onto the bed. 
his hands found your thighs, spreading your legs open. his touches were soft and careful. he didn’t want to hurt you.
“tell me what you want me to do.”
“i want you to touch me,” you said as he removed his shirt, “please touch me.”
his hand found your ankle and lifted your leg slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto your ankle. akaashi kissed his way up your leg, his fingers removing your underwear.
his hands pushed your skirt up, his hands now grasping your legs with a firm grip. all his attention was on your womanhood now.
“so fucking pretty.”
he gathered your slick with his tongue, before drawing circles on your clit. he loved how your moans started to grow in pitch.
you affected him more than the alcohol did.
your hands clenched onto the bedsheets so tightly. he listened to your moans as his tongue ran along your messy cunt. he knew that you were holding yourself back. he could tell that your hands were clenching tightly onto the bedsheets, holding yourself back from grinding on his face.
one of his hands moved from holding your thighs down to toy with your clit. he could feel your body shaking and squirming underneath his large build.
akaashi never pulled away. even when you were starting to cum on his tongue. one of your legs had made their way onto his shoulder, the other around your waist.
akaashi’s face was coated with your juices. he removed his fact from your cunt, looking at you.
“i need to ask you... do you want to continue?”
you almost wanted to cry out now. akaashi had just made you cum. he was here right now, in between your legs, shirtless looking at you. you loved him. you loved him so fucking much. you couldn’t believe that this was happening right now.
“i want to.”
“yeah?” he placed your leg back down onto the bed, “tell me exactly what you want from me.”
“i want you to fuck me. please... fuck me.”
akaashi gave you a little smirk as he reached for his belt. the sound his belt made caught your attention quickly, your eyes darting to his lower parts.
you watched as he removed his pants and boxers. the size of his length made you press your knees together.
“i-its not gonna fit,” you mumbled softly, a deep red blush spreading over your cheeks.
akaashi chuckled, “i’ll make sure it fits.”
his voice was soft. he made you feel okay, made you feel safe. akaashi helped you remove the shirt from your body, “look how pretty you are.”
akaashi’s fingers found your entrance in no time. he pushed two fingers into you, listening to how you started moaning again. he loved the feeling of your tight walls around his fingers. he watched you clench around his fingers and with the beautiful moans you were giving him, he was ready to make you cum again. his skilled digits curled inside of your cunt, a cry falling from your lips as he did so.
akaashi leaned down to kiss your open mouth. you could feel him smiling into your mouth.
“i’m ready,” you mumbled out against the kiss, “akaashi, fuck me, please.”
akaashi removed his fingers from you, gathering your juices with the tip of his cock. he made sure he coated himself before pushing the tip in. he could hear your small voice whimpering and your soft pants. 
he looked at you, tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to adjust to his size. he softly kissed both of your tears. 
“s-so big,” you whispered against his lips as you felt akaashi slowly start thrusting.
he smirked, his head dipping down to your neck to suck and kiss your skin. he looked at you, your voice broken and whimpering. you were crying for his cock. you could feel him twitch inside of you. he pulled his dick out before pushing back in, looking at where your bodies were connected.
akaashi could see the little bulge on your lower stomach. he grabbed onto your small hand, placing it down on your lower stomach so you could feel him. he gave you another deep thrust. your body moved with his thrusts. akaashi watched as your little body shook uncontrollably whenever his hips met with yours.
even akaashi was under the impression that your small body wouldn’t be able to fit him, but it was almost as if you were made for him.
“you feel so good around my cock.”
akaashi angled your legs, hooking them to his arms. the new angle made your eyes roll to the back of your head. one of your hands grabbed a handful of his hair, making him throw his head back. your lips pressed softly along his jawline. 
“s-so good, s-so fuckin’ good,” you moaned against his skin.
your forehead met with his as his thrusts became deeper and deeper. his voice was broken, his cock twitching. 
“cum inside me,” you mumbled softly, soft enough for him to hear. his thrusts were deep and he could feel you climax around his length. 
“i love you so fucking much,” he mumbled against your skin, “so fucking much that it hurts.”
“i know,” you cooed, kissing his cheek softly, “i love you too.”
he finished inside of you. you saying that was the last thing he remembered. he felt so safe in your arms, naked and bodies tangled. he knew his cum was dripping from your stretched hole. he fell asleep there in your arms.
you felt so at home, so safe in this moment. you shut your eyes too, falling asleep, enjoying this moment.
because deep down, you knew that in the morning, you weren’t hayami. 
© all content belongs to akaashisbabygirl 2021, do not repost or change
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mandoalorian · 3 years
Text
Honeymoon [Din Djarin x F!Reader] - **SMUT**
Summary: You’ve been saving your credits for months in order to treat your husband to the surprise honeymoon you both deserve. He’s a little on edge though, despite the luscious, tropical environment he’s surrounded by. So, as his wife, you do everything in your means to get him to relax.
Warnings: unprotected p in v, riding, cockwarming, orgasm denial, cunningless, cum eating, spanking, anal fingering, breeding kink, slight sub!Din if you squint. 18+ only.
Word count: 2600+
Reblogs appreciated. 💙
Beyond The Sea Masterlist
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Marrying Din Djarin was the best decision of your life. 
Standing dead centre in the middle of your hotel suite, your husband had never looked so out of place. The yon orange sunlight seeped through the crack in the voile curtains, and a warm, summer breeze waved gently through your hair. You could tell, even through his beskar Mandalorian helmet, that your husband was completely stricken by the beauty of the great outdoors. Your view from outside the hotel suite was a novelty, for sure. The beach’s water circled around the hotel and pooled outside into a tranquil, turquoise coloured ocean. A distance from your window, but not too far, was a growing jungle of vines and trees, habited by various reptilian animals that were distinct to the planet of Scarif. You couldn’t wait to meet them all.
You’d saved up credits, and it had taken almost a year, but finally— finally, you could afford this. A sanctuary. A small vacation. Something you could call your honeymoon. It was long overdue.
Din had warned you when you married him that a honeymoon wasn’t on the cards. It just wasn’t plausible. He was a bounty hunter and he worked every damn day, risking his life just so he could bring back enough credits to put food on the table for you and Grogu. A holiday of any sorts was out of the question.
But you’d been saving up in secret, and if he’d ever found out about your planned endeavour — well, he’d never approve. Good job he’d managed to keep out of your way when you bought the tickets for the five star hotel suite. What proved to be even more of a challenge, was persuading Din to take you to the remote and tropical island planet of Scarif. 
You left the kid with Peli Motto on Tatooine, much to Din’s disdain. You’d spoken to Greef and broken a deal with him in secret; that the guild master was not allowed to provide Din with any bounties prior to the week you were due to go away. Everything rolled out perfectly, just as planned.
For the first time in a long time, your clan of three was living a stress free life, void of any anxieties related to Din and his profession. You loved him with your mind, body and soul, and accepted him for who he was. But part of you, a small part of your heart, hoped that one day, maybe he’d give up bounty hunting for good. He was getting older now. You’d occasionally pick out the greying hairs in his stubble, and the crinkles in the corners of his starry brown eyes were becoming increasingly more prominent. There was a beautiful galaxy out there, and he’d only seen the bad parts. The parts that were rampant with crime and death. You hoped that this honeymoon trip to Scarif would show him the true beauty of the world -- and everything he was missing out on.
He couldn’t bounty hunt forever. One of these days, he was going to have to settle down.
“I can’t believe you did this,” Din announced, picking up some complimentary hotel chocolates that had been left on his pillow. He pulled off his mustard coloured gloves and began to fiddle with the red foil wrapper. “All of this. I can’t believe you did all of this without me knowing.”
“I was afraid you’d be mad at me.” you mumbled, subconsciously rocking backwards and forwards on your heels. Din couldn’t even begin to imagine how much this trip had cost you, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the exact figure. 
“I am mad at you.” He retorted, but you could sense the air of amusement in his voice. Din Djarin was an esteemed bounty hunter, the best in the Guild. He prided himself in being the best too. He was always one step ahead of everyone, always knowing what was about to come before others even knew themselves. Apparently though, his skill was lost on you. Part of him though, was proud. A pretty big part of him, to be exact.
He was chuffed to be able to call you his wife. He didn’t believe the day would ever come. 
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you pondered out loud, looking around the hotel suite. “Did you see those big colourful birds as we walked in? They were enormous. We should check out the gift shop and buy a disposable camera. I know Grogu would love to see the photos when we get back.”
Din tilted his helmet in acknowledgement of your comment, but opted to stay silent, his eyes fixated on you and only you. Yeah, he was sure Scarif was a beautiful planet (there was no doubt in his mind), but not even all the colourful birds or glistening waters in the whole galaxy could ever compare to the beauty of you. Your eyes snapped back towards Din when he didn’t respond, and you felt your mouth part as a knowing sigh escaped your lips.
“Tell me you don’t…” you closed your eyes, already mentally preparing yourself for his answer. “...Tell me you don’t have hunting mode initiated under that tin can helmet of yours.”
You knew that, under his black tinted visor, he was always in hunting mode. He had to ensure your safety one way or another. When he turned off hunting mode, everything was normal and in colour (despite this one glitch of pixels he had to get fixed). But when he was in hunting mode, his vision was a dull chiaroscuro. 
“We don’t know how safe this planet is,” Din declared, his voice stern as he tried to reason with you. “We just arrived and I’ve never been here before. I haven’t even done a recce.”
You extended your arm and shushed him. “You haven’t been here before because no bounty or crime syndicate ever comes to Scarif. Since the battle between the Rebellion and the Empire, it’s been under full surveillance by the New Republic. There is security on every corner.”
“That doesn’t exactly work well in my favour.” Din muttered, although deep down he knew you were right.
“Do you really think I would’ve taken you somewhere that wasn’t safe for either of us? I’ve been planning this honeymoon for months, Din. Please, trust me.”
It hurt, seeing your husband like this. After bounty hunting his whole life, he was so… on edge. He always struggled to relax. You thought a tropical vacation might’ve just done the trick but maybe he needed more.
“Okay, you’re right. I trust you.” Din sighed in admittance, and you cracked one of your sweetest smiles at his revelation. It was enough to ease Din, even just temporarily.
“It’s too late to do anything now,” you said, biting your lip as you peeked behind the curtains and watched the sunset. “We can just stay in the hotel room and order room service, if you’d like.”
Din nodded, following your direction. He didn’t know the first thing about vacationing. But if one thing intrigued him, it was the luxurious king sized bed that stood before him. It was dressed in ivory satin sheets and silk pillow cases, and it was certainly nothing like the plank of steel you’d both lay on, back in the Crest. No, this was a real bed. You’d caught him staring at it and couldn’t help but smile at the smirk that played on your lips.
“Take off your helmet.” You requested.
“I--,” Din hesitated. “Someone could walk in and see me.”
“The door is locked. We have privacy,” you assured him. Din fumbled around some more. His heart stopped when you planted both your hands on his shoulders and searched for his eyes beneath the visor. “Trust me.” you reminded him with a plea of desperation.
He nodded and slowly began to lift off his helmet. And there, he revealed himself. Your husband. Though you’d seen his face many times now, you’d still always get an out-of-body experience, watching him take it off. Like it was some kind of sin.
“I love you so much,” Din’s unmodulated voice announced, and his brown eyes bored into your beauty. You smiled, feeling a wave of heat wash over your cheeks as you leaned your head into his chest. You slowly began to undress his plates of beskar armour, dropping them to the ground as you discarded them into a pile on the floor. “Such a pretty girl,” he cooed, and you shuddered, feeling his warm breath fan over the shell of your ear. “My pretty girl. All mine.”
“All yours,” you confirmed, dropping the final plate of beskar to the floor. “You need to relax, my love.”
“That word is foreign to me.” Din told you, smoothing out your hair before dropping his large hands down to your hips.
“So let me help you.”
You guided Din over to the bed he’d been eyeing up all night and helped him out of his under clothes, stripping him down to his boxer shorts only. You straddled his hips, pushing him back down amongst the satin sheets and letting your hands wander along his broad, scarred chest. He groaned wantonly. Your tender touch combined with the unfamiliar softness of what lay beneath him was almost enough to make him enter a meltdown. You hummed softly, your voice lulling him in the most comforting manner imaginable. Your fingers dipped further down his body and traced the short tufts of brown hair that poked out the hem of his underwear. Feeling your fingers fiddle with his waistband as he lay on the king sized bed felt ethereal. It was almost too much, he had to stop himself from swatting your hand away. If Din could have it his way, he’d grab you and roll you over, so he was on top -- taking control over you. But you had done this, all of this, to try and help him relax. So, he just lay there and surrendered to you.
The sky was dimming as the minutes passed by. You made a good habit to take your time with him, missing this kind of intimacy. Truthfully, it was hard to ever catch moments like this with Grogu being around. You and Din practically always had to sacrifice loving, passionate sex for quickies in between his bounties; and it wasn’t always easy.
“You-- you look so pretty like this, on top of me.” Your husband gasped out, his already dark eyes growing shades darker with lust.
For a split second, you pulled off him and untied your tunic, letting your simple robe fall to the ground and revealing your almost naked body to him. He was obsessed with you. Absolutely smitten, and it was unlike anything he’d ever been like with anyone ever before. Straddling him once more, you began to grind over his half hard cock, moaning at the friction between his underwear and your lace panties.
You leaned down and pressed your soft lips against his, enveloping him into a sweet kiss. You drop your lips along his gruff jaw and down the column of his neck, making a conscious effort to suck at his sweet spot you’d memorised so well. Reluctantly, you pulled off him and hovered over his lap, signalling with your hands for him to pull down his underwear. He took his hardening cock in his hand and wiped the beads of precum that had developed at his head. Taking the salty seed on his index finger, he brought it up to your mouth and pushed the digit in between your lips. You moaned longingly, relishing in his taste before pulling off him with a pop.
Din pulled off your panties and began to stroke between your folds, groaning when he felt just how slick and ready you were for him. He squeezed your hips and nodded, illustrating that he was ready, and you took a deep breath, anticipating the delicious stretch his cock offered you. You sank down on top of him, your eyes snapping shut as you felt every amazing bump and ridge and vein of his manhood grind along your fluttering walls.
He seated deep inside of you, giving you a few minutes to adjust, and he began to rub tight circles into your clit. He was absolutely mesmerized by you. You chanted his name like it was a prayer, and Din wondered how he ever got so lucky.
Feeling you clench around him and sensing you were about to cum, Din removed his hand from your cunt and gave you a small spanking on the curve of your ass. Your gasp of shock from your orgasm denial turned into a wanton moan as you wiggled further down on him. You giggled, nudging your nose against his as you felt the same finger he’d used earlier on you, make its way to your puckered asshole. Anal was something you’d been working your way up to, but hadn’t tried yet.
“Do you want this?” Din asked, teasing your entrance with the tip of his finger.
“Mhm,” you nodded desperately.
“Are you sure you can take it?” he beckoned, a wicked smirk gracing his soft pink lips.
“Y-yes,” you whispered.
“I can’t hear you,” Din growled, giving you another spank. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” you cried, “P-please Din, fuck, please. I want it.”
“Dirty girl.” He gritted out, slowly pushing his digit inside of you.
Maker, you were full. In every way imaginable, Din was filling you up, stretching you wide, and it felt… amazing. You began to rock your hips over his cock as he lazily thrust his finger inside your asshole, and you felt yourself panting with every little stroke and movement.
“You look so good, like this,” Din gasped. “Won’t last long.”
And, he didn’t. The second he felt you cumming on top of him, your walls gripping his girth tighter than a vice, he came undone. His load was large, as expected, as his seed spurted in ropes inside of you. Din’s hands wrapped around your stomach and he began to rub soothing circles in your tummy. You didn’t lift off him, but instead, relished the feeling of his cock softening inside of you.
“Maybe this time it’ll work,” he grumbled. “And if not, we’ll keep trying. I won’t stop til I’ve put a baby inside of you, cya’re.”
You hummed and stretched out over him, resting your sticky forehead against his. “Good job we have all honeymoon.”
Din chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek with his hand. Well, if you’d accomplished one thing, it was that Din was certainly feeling more relaxed, that’s for sure.
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modx-reborn · 3 years
Text
Silk ties to bind
Returning my C!Eret posts.
SMUT UNDERCUT! MINORS DNI!
It started as a passing joke that you would never be able to be seated in Eret's court, clothes too rough from your time spent in the forests of the server or just too dirty in general. As you spend hours on end mixing dyes and making messes that stain everything no matter how hard you try to keep things clean.
Only it seemed to make a soft chuckle pass from the monarch you spent so much time with, their demeanour shifting and the conversation dying away afterwards.
Days later it started, the clothes.
New clothes, robes, boots, shoes and even underthings in several colours were delivered to your home, each one fancier and fancier than the last. Deep colours that you know take ages to make framed in gold and silver threads, skirts that would barely cover anything held and decorated in chains, jewellery tucked away in small pouches, each piece fitting for one or more of the sets now showing up at your home.
There is only one person you know of with access to things like this, with the spare income to throw it away on someone else like this. Only there was no reason your mind could cook up as to why they would do this, was it cause of the joke you had made? Was this an invitation to visit the court? Or was this some sort of sick joke you weren't privy to?
Questions lingering and becoming less and less based on reality, thoughts spiralling out of control, finally coming to an end when a letter with the king's seal comes to your door. An invitation to court, with a small request for you to wear one of the items that had recently been delivered, even a cheeky nod towards the more...revealing items being more expected than the others.
On the day of the court, the castle seemed so quiet, attendants rushing away from the main hall rather than towards it, guards talking in hushed voices about this 'closed court', even on arrival things were off usually coats and cloaks were taken and you are ushered to the hall in use but not a single person had asked or moved to take yours when you arrived.
So when the massive doors to the hall open before you, seeing nothing but a small wall of mirrors and Eret is nothing short of jarring, the maid that escorted you gently pushing you in with a soft giggle before closing the door behind you.
"Eret? You. You wanna explain what's going on right now?"
The way they twirl when you speak up makes it clear despite the mirrors that they stood before they had not seen or heard you enter, too lost in their thoughts.
"Ahhh you're here! Come, come over here. And don't worry about anything, I'll explain in a bit."
Their hands are warm when they guide you over, just off from the mirrors sits a pile of blankets and pillows, like a makeshift bed or couch, a small bag sits off to the side tied shut but almost bursting at its seams from whatever has filled it. "Now let's have that cloak thank you, I want o see how you look in one of the things I sent you!" Their hands clap together before reaching for the clasp of the cloak hiding what you wore underneath.
"First I think I am owed an explanation on everything, then ill take my cloak off."
The huff and pout that comes from Eret is cute and ultimately childish but is enough to stop their hands that have started to fiddle with the clasp despite the way you have grasped their wrist. "Well, that's...easy. I just wanted to dress you up, have you dressed as you should be after all you are going to-" their voice stopping short before something passes over their face, "-You deserve to be dressed as well as I am, even if your not a court member, not yet."
The end of their sentence is whispered, their smile shaky and short before they are pouting once again, "Now please can you give me your cloak?"
"The whispering aside, what were you going to say at first the whole 'dressed as you should be'? Eret, you can tell me anything. Your dear to me, if you need me for something you can just ask."
It does pain you to watch them flinch slightly, one of your hands still keeping them from unclasping your cloak, the other reaching out only to be grabbed by their free hand and used to pull you closer. "Do you mean it? That if I needed you, you would help? That you would be willing to listen to whatever I was going to ask you?"
"Of course I do. Eret you were one of the first people to be kind to me, hell you were my first friend and are my dearest person to date. No matter what you could ask I would always be willing to listen."
If it wasn't for their glasses there is no doubt that you would be able to see the way their eyes flick down to where they have pulled you close, only to flick back to the clasp of your cloak. Yet all you do get to watch is as they bite at their lips before speaking.
"Then please just let me take the cloak, and. And sit down, please just. Please."
Letting go of their hands is easy and letting them take the embroidered cloth is much the same, only the way their head flicks down with their gaze is very clear, eyes lingering on the clothing you had chosen to wear. A dress that clearly shows off your shoulders and collarbones, the deep collar leaving most of your chest exposed before cinching at the waist with a belt, when you move to sit the slits of the skirt let your thighs peak through.
"Alright, what now?"
The way they drop behind you is slightly loud even with what you assume to be at least three pillows under them, watching them in the mirrors shows how their hands shake when they reach out, hands gentle when they reach around your shoulders, grasping your hands to pull you back into them.
The way the fabric moves when they do causes more skin to be exposed, their breath shaky and felt as they take in how they had dressed you, even if it was only through providing the clothes. "So beautiful..." bearly a whisper when they do speak, glasses slipping slightly down their nose when they lean forward head next to yours, brown curls tickling against your skin when they turn their head.
"Look at you. Dressed like the ruler you should be."
"Eret-"
"Shhh, so kind, so strong and so so deserving of the throne next to mine. Just look at us, how good you would look drapped in the finest of finery, covered in my gifts...my marks..."
Their voice is airy when they talk, words steadily becoming stronger and stronger, each one a declaration of how good they would be if you let them, if you took up space beside them, ruling with them, letting them keep you and be even more then what they are now.
"God, you don't know how long I've waited, hoped, wanted you to be mine. Next to me, letting me bury myself in you, leaving no doubt for others that you're mine."
White-eyes, catch yours in the mirrors when one of their hands stop you from looking away. "Please, Let me show you what it could look like. Please," it's without a thought that you nod, and when you do the hand that does not hold your face moves, using your hips to pull you further back into Eret's chest.
Settling into Eret's lap brings two things to light, one you are much smaller than the ruler of the SMP and two no matter how you shift or move the press of their cock is hard, a telling sign of how they need you. The first press of their lips to your neck makes your breath shake, and when its teeth and tongue leaving a trail of marks nothing is stopping the whimpers that leave your lips.
Your hands grasping the skirts that barely cover you, before they are taken, guided by Eret's to undo the clasps that hold your dress together, the top half falling away to expose your chest. One of your hands traces the marks that are already starting to bloom, eyes locked to the mirrors still trying to process what is happening.
For such a lieth person Eret is quick to flip the position, you under them as they move down placing open-mouthed kisses down your chest, your head tilted towards the mirrors by one of their hands, making you watch when their lips wrap around one of your nipples. Their other hand supporting you as you arch into the warm mouth laving over your skin, if not for the skirt still barely hanging from your hips, the press of Eret's cock into your sex would be so much stronger.
“God look at you. So perfect like this,”
Their hands are quick to pull your hips forward, pressing harder into you, letting you feel how badly they need you. Gentle fingers digging under your skirts to grasp at your hips and tease against your thighs, fingertips barely brushing against your sex, as you continue to watch your friend mouth their way down your chest proving with every swipe of their tongue that they are going to be so much more.
"Say you'll stay with me. Say you'll be mine and let me shower you with everything you could ask for. Say you won't leave."
"Eret, I-"
"Say. It." Their words are punctuated by two rough bites, teeth marks blooming against your skin as you arch into the feeling.
"I'll stay."
Your words are barely out of your mouth when they surge forward, lips crashing into yours, glasses hastily thrown into the mess surrounding you. The kiss is desperate and messy, like how Eret's hands roam across your body now that they know you won't leave them, and when they pull away their eyes are lidded and breathing just as heavy as yours had become.
It's not the first time you had seen their eyes, but it was the first time you had seen them so hungry. Watching as they flick across every mark they had left on you, taking the mess they had made of your skin before pressing in again capturing your lips before pulling you up and into their lap.
Hands pushing your skirts out of the way, using the grip they had on your hips to grind you down onto their cock, groaning into your mouth as they do. When you pull apart there is a slight sting, as Eret grips your underwear using strength well hidden in their slim frame to rip the material from your frame.
"You won't be needing those, not anymore. If I find you wearing them near me, I'll just take it as an invitation to rip them from you again..."
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effeminateboyninja · 3 years
Note
I love my big daddy Shino, buuttt pulling out is NOT an effective method of contraception (seriously). His uterus having s/o finds out they are pregnant! Also how would bug king Shibi react?
ouuu drama! we love
~ Unexpected ~
(Shino x fem!reader) fluff // 1.3k words
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You stood in line at the pharmacy anxiously tapping your foot and fiddling with the test in your hands. The little pink box felt like it was burning in your grip. It had been almost a month now since you and Shino had made love that blissful night, and terrifyingly — almost a week since missing the start of your expected period.
Of course you’d taken a risk by not using protection, but c’mon, your first time? What kind of sick joke was this from the universe? And oh my god, can that woman please hurry up?! you thought, shooting an impatient glare and sighing out loud at the lady making small talk at the counter. She glanced at you annoyed, and raised her eyebrows in judgment at the small package you were holding, causing your cheeks to warm with embarrassment. Finally, she stopped chattering and let the cashier bag up her things when you heard the bell at the door ring, signaling another customer's arrival. Your stomach dropped and all the colour faded from your face as you recognized the distinctive round glasses behind a high collar. Shibi.
Frantically, you shoved the small box into your pocket and hastily picked up a pack of gum from the shelf just in time for him to notice you.
“Oh hello, (y/n),” he addressed you in his usual flat tone. “How have you been?”
“Oh I’ve been fine,” you lied smoothly, shooting him a sweet smile and hoping he didn't notice the way you kept fidgeting with your back pocket.
Luckily he didn’t seem to, “That’s good to hear. If you’ll excuse me I’m just here to pick up a few things. Hopefully I’ll see you around the house again soon.” With that he left you at the counter, shoulders falling forward in relief that you’d fallen for a man from a family of so few words before moving towards the register and inconspicuously pulling the test from your pocket to slide it over the counter.
As soon as you’d paid you snatched the bag and rushed out the doors. By the time you got home you felt as if you might faint, but you made it to the bathroom just in time to slam the door behind you and collapse on the edge of the tub. A couple minutes of some uncomfortable maneuvering with the test under you in the toilet and a few more spent agonizing while waiting for the results later, the two pink lines became clearly visible.
You shook the test as if it were an etch-a-sketch hoping the result would change but of course it didn’t. It felt like your world was crashing down around you, what were you going to do? You hung your head in your hands momentarily, mind racing, before taking a deep breath and resolving to save the waterworks for later. There was someone you needed to talk to first.
An hour later you were sitting in his bed — the same one that started this whole mess, and you were trying to find the words to explain the situation. But they wouldn’t come, so instead you pulled the test from your bag and showed it to him silently, heart feeling like it might beat out right of its chest.
“Is this what I think it is?” If he was surprised his voice didn’t show it.
You nodded meekly, dreading what the lack of emotion in his tone could indicate. Just as you were about to start stuttering about how you’re so sorry, you shouldn’t have pushed him to have sex or this never would’ve happened — he’s taking your shaking hands in his own and gazing into your eyes from behind his glasses.
“I’m not scared,” he said simply, and your eyes widen. You didn’t know what you’d expected him to say, maybe you didn’t expect him to say anything. His lack of fear is surprising, but more so it instilled you with a sense of comfort. He went on, “that’s because I love you (y/n). I know we’re young and this is unexpected, but I believe in us and there’s no one else I would rather go through this with.”
Your eyes welled up and you threw your arms around him enthusiastically, releasing a relieved sob into his chest. He rubbed your back and hushed you until you had calmed down and whispered against your hair, “Whatever you want to do I’ll support you.”
He felt you stiffen against him. You hadn’t even considered options, to you there was only one. You pulled away and looked at him hesitantly, a lump building in your throat once more, “even if I want to keep it?”
The silence feels like it lasts forever even though it’s just a few seconds.
“You want to have my child?” his steady voice breaks a bit at the last words and a single tear falls from behind the dark of his round frames. You nod again, a nervous smile forming on your lips and that’s when it hits him.
A baby. His baby. There’s so much to do!
He gets up and starts pacing at the foot of the bed. “We’ll have to start making preparations right away! Oh, and I should probably think about taking less missions so I can be home for the two of you…”
Your heart warmed at the words, “the two of you”. What had you been so worried about? Of course Shino would know what to do and just how to calm you, he always did.
“Speaking of you and the baby, are you feeling okay? Can I do anything for you?” he kneeled down and reached out gently to touch your belly that hadn’t even begun to grow yet.
You giggled. “I’m fine, Shino.” He looked absolutely darling kneeling before you like this, showing a paternal side of him you’d never known existed.
“You know though, there is something you can do for me.”
His head snapped up and he began to rush to his feet, “Anything. What is it?”
You just grabbed him by the collar and stopped him in his tracks. “This,” and you pulled him for a kiss.
He softened into your embrace and wrapped his arms around your waist, grateful that out of anyone it was you that would be the mother of his child — unplanned or not.
*****
The next few months pass by faster than either of you could expect. Shino rose to the occasion and did everything he could to make things ready for you and the baby. He even started reading insect books to your belly a few days after finding out.
“They can’t hear you yet,” you laughed.
He just shushed you, “Aburames have excellent senses,” and kept reading.
Your due date was only weeks away now and you watched from the kitchen where you were making lunch as your husband argued with Kiba in the living room about how to put together your child’s new crib. Hinata stood between the two trying to make one of them notice the instruction booklet she held in her hands but they were too busy bickering to notice. You smiled, knowing that your child would always have these wonderful people in their life.
Shino felt your eyes on him and looked up from his conversation with Kiba. His face softened slightly and a small smile lit up across it before he turned back to the Inuzuka man, “... I’m the father I think I would know how to put together my own baby’s crib…”
You chuckled and interrupted their quarrel to announce that lunch was ready. Eagerly, they all rushed to the kitchen and the four of you sat and ate together happily. You looked down at your round belly and rubbed it tenderly before looking to Shino once more. He was going to be such a great father.
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tricksters-captain · 3 years
Text
Benny Watts/The Queens Gambit imagines - From Pawn to Pen Part 3
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AN: Okay so I know things are going a little slow paced at the moment but I promise things will start to pick up over the next few chapters. 
Overall Summary: You’re a young journalist for Chess Review, with a love for chess and a desire for knowledge. One day at a tournament, you come across the famous Benny Watts...
In this chapter: It’s the last day of the tournament and Benny feels bad about what happened the previous night 
(PART 1) (PART 2)
Pairing(s): Benny Watts x Fem!reader
Word Count: 3,493
Warnings: Some unwanted touching here at the beginning in italics, some drinking, none really
A hand glided up from your knee along your thigh. The fingers felt rough against your skin and your stomach twisted into a knot as the touch went further up your leg. You tried to move your leg away but his fingers dug into your skin keeping you there. 
“Don’t play hard to get now...” 
You gasped loudly as you shot up from your pillow. The cold air hit your lungs like a flood as you struggled to catch your breath. 
It was 5am. 
You were covered in sweat.
You stared into the darkness ahead of you, eyes wide open with any feeling of tiredness gone. 
Your hands shook as you reached for the light switch, turning it on before jumping out of your bed to open the curtains. 
The sun was barely rising outside. 
Your nightie clung to you awkwardly due to the sweat so you headed into the bathroom, stripping of it. 
You didn’t look in the mirror as you turned on the shower. You hated the way you looked after the dreams. You always looked like a ghost. 
Not that you had had the dreams for a while now. 
You took your time in the shower, you had brought your portable radio into the bathroom so you weren’t left alone with your own thoughts.
You hummed quietly to the songs that played on the early morning station; you closed your eyes and tried to picture that you were showering in your old apartment in France with Angelie making morning coffee and croissants in the kitchen.
It brought you some sense of calm. 
When you finished in the bathroom, the sun was rising. You took a moment to admire the colours in the sky before sitting down at your dresser to apply some make up and dry your hair. 
As your eyes found your reflection, you sighed. You reached across for one of your powders and a brush before turning the music up to stop thinking about the day ahead. 
It was early enough for you to be one of the first in the restaurant for breakfast and so you found yourself nibbling on bagel with some coffee in your other hand. 
It was the last day of the tournament. 
Benny Watts vs Victor Miesser. 
Once you grew tired of picking at the bagel you went ahead to the games room where only one table was set up ready for the final match in the afternoon. 
You looked down at the board, picking up the white queen which you knew would be Benny’s later. 
“Don’t be tampering with my chess pieces because I pissed you off last night.” 
“Little early for you, Mr Watts?” You didn’t even need to turn to know who had come in. 
“Couldn’t sleep.” He admitted, walking up beside you to look down at the board himself. “Found myself thinking what an ass move it was to just burst into somebody’s hotel room and start rummaging through their private belongings.” 
“Oh really?” You raised your eyebrows, smiling a little at his attempted apology. 
“Really.” Benny nodded, “So, I figured I’d find the girl I so rudely vexed and apologise.” Benny sent you a side glance which you returned.
“Apology accepted on the conditions that he doesn’t do it again and agrees to a photograph for the magazine.” You felt as if you should apologise too for the way you handled it the previous night but you fought against it, he was the one in the wrong after all. 
“Conditions accepted.” Benny held out his hand and you waited a second, smiling, before you took it. 
“Perfect.” You dug into your bag and pulled out your camera. “If you could sit down? Now would be the perfect time for a photograph since no one is around to distract you.”
“Distract me? What’s that supposed to mean?” Benny furrowed his eyebrows at you, chuckling as he sat himself down. 
You rolled your eyes at the man and decided not to answer as you checked the lighting for the photo. 
“I’m sure you’ve done plenty of shoots before so if you could just relax the shoulders a little and look at the camera as you sit beside the board.” You directed him as he shifted in his seat. 
“Like this?” Benny asked with a smirk as he rested his elbow on the table beside the board. 
You took the photo. 
“Now look down at the board like you’re focusing on a hard game.” You tried to ignore his playful tone as you photographed him. 
Benny switched to link his fingers below his chin and stare down at the board. 
“Great.” You stepped forward and lifted the brim of his hat slightly your with finger. Benny’s eyes looked up as you did. “Sorry.” You muttered before stepping away again. 
“One more if you don’t mind.” You asked as you picked up the queen. 
“If you just prop your feet up on the corner of the table and lean back into your chair.” You gestured to the table and Benny did as he was told. “Now, hold this and look at it like this.” 
You held the chess piece with your thumb and index finger above your head so it was tilted. Benny seemed to smirk again as he took the piece from you to copy the pose. 
You snapped a few more shots before allowing him to relax. 
“Thank you. It’s more likely I’ll get the first few pages if I have a decent photo to go with the piece.” You explained, tucking the camera away. 
“And here I thought I’d make the cover.” Benny stood up from his seat, straightening his jacket. 
“I can’t make any promises I’m afraid. This’ll be the biggest piece the magazine has allowed me to write yet.” You confessed, pulling out your notepad and pen. 
“You're telling me you left Paris of all places to write pity pieces and small town coverage for Chess Review?” Benny raised his eyebrows at you, seemingly surprised at your decision. 
“I’ll work my way up eventually. I always do.” You shrugged your shoulders, paying no mind to his judgement.
“I don’t doubt it.” Benny replied. 
“I saw you in Paris last year, you know.” You tried changing the topic onto him so you could try and get some more questions in for the interview. 
“Really?” Benny asked, 
“I mean I wasn’t paying too much attention to you since I was writing a headline piece on Borgov but I saw you. No one can stick out like sore thumb in aa chess tournament quite like Benny Watts.” You admitted. 
“I’ll try and take that as a compliment.” Benny laughed lightly as he fiddled with the top of the chair he was leaning on. 
“Well you are constantly praised for you twist on the ‘regular’ chess player with your style and your hair and your knife...” You couldn’t help but point to the holster on his hip. 
“What’s wrong with that?” He asked, looking down at his knife then back up at you.
“Nothing.” You shook your head. “I was wondering Mr Watts since I have you here now, we could finish off that interview?”
You watched Benny check his watch before taking a minute to decide. 
“Alright but only if we go someplace else. It’s too stuffy in here.” Benny agreed, pushing off the back of the chair and walking towards the exit. 
“Outside?” You suggested. 
You both walked side by side outside the hotel then down into some gardens where you found an old small concrete bench to perch on. 
“Shall we continue from where we started?” You asked, getting your prepared questions out. “Ready?”
“Ready.” 
“Mr Watts, you recently stated you were here because of Beth Harmon. When was it she first caught your eye as a potential competitor?” You asked, 
“I guess it was just like everyone else. Once it got out that she defeated Beltik at such a young age and at her very first tournament, I think she grabbed everyone’s eye in the chess world.” He admitted, looking out across the green as he spoke. 
“Do you believe she could beat you for your US title?” 
“I think we’ll have to see how it plays out when I finally get to play her.” Benny seemingly almost found the question amusing.
“Where are you playing next? Do you know?” You crossed off questions you’d already asked before as you spoke. 
“I try not to play too many opens nowadays but I like the practise. The US open will roll around again soon which I’ll be heading too. I tend to go to events where I’ve been invited or I feel like attending. It’s not necessarily planned.” Benny held out his arm, pushing straight line with hand to signal him looking into the future. 
“And what about Europe?” 
“I like playing in Europe. I get invited from time to time but the jet lag really gets me sometimes.” Benny started, “Off the record, how come I haven’t seen you in Paris before if you’d seen me?”
The question took you back for a moment as the flow was now interrupted. 
“There’s a lot of reporters in Paris, Mr Watts. It’s no surprise to me that you didn’t notice me.”
“It is to me.” Benny towards you, leaning on his hand with his finger on his chin.
“A girl can be easily hidden in a crowd full of men, Mr Watts.” You felt your heart start to race as Benny stared at you. 
“Anyway, back to the questions...” You tried to shake it off. “Is there anyone in your life at the moment, Mr Watts? Someone else you like to play chess with?” You almost cringed at the question but you knew the female readers would eat it up. 
“Are you asking for you or for the magazine?” Benny smirked. 
You sent him a look which only made him laugh. 
“No, there’s no one at the moment. Only a few of the guys in New York who like to play speed chess with me just to lose their money.” Benny’s joke made you roll your eyes but he could tell it was lighthearted. 
“And final question, Mr Watts, how does it feel being the undefeated champion in the United States?” 
“It feels great. But I’m looking forward to some new competition. You can only play Victor Miesser so many times.” Benny took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. His blond locks moved with his fingers and a small strand fell back down to his eye.
“Be careful what you wish for, Watts.” You let it slip out as you watched the man.
Benny started to laugh again. 
“I didn’t–––” You went to apologise when he cut you short. 
“––It’s true. One day someone will probably beat me.” 
You closed your notepad and tucked your pen away as you nodded your head, not knowing how else to respond. 
“What are you doing after the tournament?” Benny asked you. 
“I’ll probably stay here in the hotel for a couple of days, get the final draft written then typed up then sent off to the magazine along with the photos. By then they should have another spot for me to travel to and if not then I’ll return to my flat in Massachusetts. My recent tenant just moved out so I actually could stay there for once.” You explained, hooking the hair out of your face as the wind picked up. 
“Massachusetts?” Benny cocked his eyebrow. 
“Yeah. I bought the flat just before I decided to leave the US, rented it out during the years I was in Paris. I had someone new living there for the past 5 months but they recently moved out. I’m never usually there so...”
“Why Massachusetts though?” Benny folded his arms over his chest and crossed his ankles as he leant back.
“My Mom grew up in Greenfield, Massachusetts. She always loved the countryside, the forests when it was fall were her favourite anywhere we went really. I live in Boston though, Greenfield was a bit too small town for me.” You explained, smiling as a memory resurfaced of your mother diving into a pile of yellow, auburn and brown leaves. 
“You know Boston isn’t that far from New York. If you change your mind about that chess game, I don’t hate the idea of company?” Benny suggested, his eyes searching your face for an answer. 
“I don’t think so, Benny.” You rose from the bench and smiled down at the man. 
Benny smirked at the use of his name instead of ‘Mr Watts’. 
“Good luck for this afternoon. Perhaps I’ll see you at another tournament soon.” You dismissed yourself before Benny could try and persuade you to come to New York with him. 
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You spent the rest of the morning sorting your notes together and clearing up your hotel room before the afternoon game went ahead. 
You had taken your film to be developed whilst you were watching the game so it’d be ready in the evening.
You watched Benny dominate Miesser in less than 20 moves and then you watched Miesser strut off in a strop. Another loss to the Benny Watts.
You were amused by the fact that Benny didn’t even seem to break a sweat or show a single crease in his forehead. He really did find it all too easy, didn’t he?
You applauded with the rest of the onlookers before disappearing to take your notes on the game upstairs to write it up again in short form so the readers could see the game through the piece. 
You went ahead to pick up the prints before dinner and you were impressed with your own photography skills. 
Benny was extremely photogenic there was no lie in that and you couldn’t help but admire the photographs due to your own skill and his attractiveness. 
You put the photos up in your room along with the pages you had before heading for some food. 
You were famished and you knew the restaurant would be quieter due to the tournament ending that day. 
“Miss (Y/L/N)?” One of the hosts approached you as you neared the restaurant entrance. 
“Yes?” You replied. 
“Mr Benny Watts has requested you join him for dinner.” He guided his hand towards one of the back tables where Benny was sat alone for once.
You were hesitant to join him but once he had spotted you there was no turning back. 
“Mr Watts?” You greeted him, still confused by his invitation. 
“(Y/n).” He stood when you approached the table which was something you hadn’t expected him to do. “I felt like my apology earlier wasn’t exactly a great one so I figured dinner would be a good alternative.” 
“You really didn’t have to...” You started, sitting down opposite him. 
“How’s the article coming along?” He ignored your objections as he too sat back down.
“Fine.” You stated. 
“Just fine?” Benny smirked, looking up at you from the menu in front of him. 
“Yes.” You said as you picked up your own. 
There was a silence. 
“How old were you when you first played Chess?” Benny asked out of the blue. 
“Five.” You told him. “I wouldn’t say I was any good. My father taught me but I know I first picked up the pieces when I was five.” 
“And how old were you when you decided you weren’t good enough?” Benny’s words felt like ice to your warm cheek.
“Seventeen.” You told him honestly. 
“Seventeen.” Benny repeated what you had said. “Seventeen is awfully young to be deciding you weren’t good enough.” 
“I had been playing years by then–––”
“––It sounds like you gave up to early.” Benny folded his hands together as he placed his elbows on the table. 
“Are we going to discuss my playing chess all evening or shall I just eat elsewhere?” You were tired of the constant questions. This man didn’t know you. You didn’t need to explain yourself to him. 
“Sorry.” Benny held his hands out almost in surrender. “So, Boston?”
“Or discuss me being close enough to visit New York to play chess with you.”
Benny chuckled quietly. 
“What is it about me, Benny Watts?” You asked him honestly. Why was he so interested in your chess playing after one weekend of knowing each other?
“I don’t know.” Benny confessed, “Curiosity, I guess.”
“Well, Mr Watts...” You sipped on the cocktail just put in front of you, “...Curiosity killed the cat.”
“Maybe it’s the fact you’re one of the first girl reporters I’ve seen cover Chess before.”
“I am the only one employed at Chess Review.” You didn’t know why you told him that but you did. “Journalism is a more cut throat industry than you’d expect, Mr Watts.”
“I could say the same thing about Chess but being a reporter you already know that.” Benny leant back in his chair now, waving over a waiter so you could finally order some food.
“I know too well.” You chuckled weakly. 
You both ordered some food and you let Benny talk about himself which he did with ease. 
He mainly spoke about Chess openings, ones he favoured, ones he disliked, who he had read recently and what changes he had made to his play over the past couple tournaments. 
You were thankful he didn’t try interrogating you again.
After you finished eating you left the restaurant together. 
“Me and some others who are still here for the night are gonna have a few beers and play some speed chess, wanna join?” Benny asked, pointing behind him to the bar area. 
You went to open your mouth when Benny stopped you. 
“And before you say anything, no you don’t have to play, you can just watch.” 
“Tempting.” You admitted. 
“Then say yes?” Benny urged you, already taking a step backwards towards the bar. 
“Are you always this pushy, Benny?” You couldn’t help but let a smile cross your lips. 
“Uh, yep.” Benny bit down on lower lip, his hands on his hips as he answered.
“One drink.” You gave in, following the man into bar where a table of speed chess was already being played. 
When Benny approached the table, one of the seats freed up for him and Benny offered you a seat beside the table so you could spectate. 
You ordered yourself a drink and took it with you to the table so you could drink and watch. 
You were immediately mesmerised by the speed the players could go and within mere minutes Benny had won his first round, taking five dollars off his opponent. 
“You know, Benny, you might want to take it easy or people won’t actually want to play you anymore.” You told him with a smirk on your face that made him smile. 
You stayed longer than you expected to. One drink turned into three or four and it was late by the time Benny ran out of opponents. 
Benny walked with you to the elevator then up to the floor you were both on. 
You were tired and the alcohol had given you a warm buzz. You leant against the wall of the elevator with your eyes closed and a sleep smile on your face. 
“Come on, it’s our floor.” Benny held out his arm and you wrapped your hand around his bicep to help you out of the elevator.
He walked you up to your hotel room door and you found your key to go inside.
“Night Benny.” You murmured as you stepped into your room. 
Benny leant in the door way, his hand gripping the pane above him as he watched you walk over to your bed. 
“Goodnight Miss (Y/L/N).” And with that, he leant in to take the doorknob and closed the door. 
When you woke up in the morning you weren’t in your nightie but your underwear. You must've just stripped last night because you were so tired. 
You heard a knock on your door but you groaned and rolled over onto your stomach. Covering your head with your pillow. 
There was another knock. 
You waited a second, gaining the energy to stand. 
You slid on your robe and trudged over to the door. 
You opened it to see no one outside but down by your feet was a stack of three books with a note on top of them. 
You picked them up and opened the folded bit of paper. 
I’m going back to New York. Read these then call me. – B.W.
You looked through the books he had given you and the one right on the top was his own. You shook your head smiling down at the boy on the cover. 
You peered forward, looking down the corridor to see no one but the housekeepers. 
You stepped back inside and reread the note.
Call me – B.W. 
(PART 4 HERE)
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977 notes · View notes
dashielldeveron · 3 years
Text
and i’ve gotta crow | takami keigo
hawks x pro-hero! reader. quirk unspecified.
summary: “You’re suffering from amnesia,” says Hawks to you, in your hospital bed.
No, you are not.
“We’re engaged to be married.”
No, you are not.
After an accident that was that bastard Hawks’s fault, you decide to play along with your diagnosis of amnesia, among other things, because how far can you make your former bully bend over backwards for you?
fluff/trickery??? completely avoidable angst, bc reader is a little shit. hawks is a scumbag bully at first. reader is honestly kind of violent. dealing with acne in a scene.
When the first things you saw after groggily blinking your eyes open were multiple IVs in the back of your hand, you flipped over and snuggled farther into your hospital bed to deal with it later, but against your will you were forced to lie flat on your back to stare into the hospital fluorescents.
When the nurse fiddling with your IVs came into focus, he said, “You need to lie on your back. You have deep gashes on your lower abdomen, and tossing about too much could open the stitches.”
That sounded like bullshit, but you were too out of it to care. “Yeah, okay,” you said through a croak, “Oh, fuck.” You wrestled a hand to your throat, massaging it. “Am I waking up from a coma? Don’t let anyone see me until I’ve done my eyebrows.”
The nurse laughed through his nose. “No, don’t worry. You’ve barely been—” He cut himself off and frowned. “The news should probably be broken to you when you have emotional support. I’ll be back soon.”
He left.
Emotional support? Wouldn’t that fucking gash on your stomach be—ooh, ouch, don’t move.
Where’s your phone? Where’s your goddamn phone; where’s any of your personal belongings? If they got crushed, you’re killing Hawks on sight.
Hawks, oh, my God. Where is he? He’s dead. If he still has the audacity to bully you professionally—fuck.
He’d cornered you on patrol earlier—whenever that was—and cut into you in that casually, negging-type way that wasn’t enough to report but enough to make you stay up late and freak out about being good enough. It hurt your chest whenever you thought about it.
But this was the first time he’d gotten seriously physical.
He’d alit on the top of the warehouse next to you, landing what would have been haphazardly for anyone else (the arch of his feet against the edge, his toes barely touching roof) and had crouched next to you, his scarlet wings completely blowing your cover as they stretched and shuddered.
“What’s a little girl like you doing in this part of town?” Hawks had propped his chin on both his fists. “Thought shoplifters were more your calibre.”
“Hawks, this is actually really important to me, so please, please leave,” you’d said, keeping your eyes on the group you could barely make out through the skylight. They’d already been partially concealed by crates, so they were hard to see.
“Someone else give you a tip for their location?” He’d tapped your opposite shoulder with the end of his wing, but you hadn’t even flinched.
“Bruh, you know I’ve been on this for weeks,” you’d said, shifting away from him, “I even shared intel at your last briefing.”
“Is that what you were talking about?” Hawks had scratched his chin. “I zoned out. Usually the little cases female heroes present aren’t in my circle, and I like to unwind when brain power isn’t needed.”
You’d planned to rip his wings out feather by feather while you’d gritted your teeth. “You can’t talk to me like that, Hawks.”
He’d laughed, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “C’mon, babygirl, have a slice of chill, won’t you? I thought you were one of the cool girls. Relax. I don’t mean anything by it.”
“Leave me alone, Hawks. You’re not gonna bully me into joining your agency. You’re not gonna bully me into quitting being a hero,” you’d said, inwardly screaming, “I’d tell you to go talk to someone who’d fall for your shit, but then, she’d have to suffer, too. So, fuck off into a sewer, jackass.”
“Oof,” Hawks had said, placing a hand over his heart and shaking his head, “You don’t have to be such a bitch, sweetheart. I’m only looking for my better half. Didn’t think it could be you, but I’d thought I’d give you a chance to prove me wrong. Don’t take yourself too seriously; just be along for the ride like the rest of us.”
“Huh,” you had said, and you’d stood and strode to the edge of the warehouse to your harness and rope, and you rappelled down the side of it as stealthily as you came up.
“I’ve been watching you all these years, sweetness, and I know you by now; I know how you really feel,” Hawks had said a bit too loudly while he flew downwards at your speed (braggart). “Strip away all of your busy work, your so-called hero trappings, and we’d mesh together just fine. We may be rough around the edges, but we clean up really nicely, don’t we?”
You’d unclipped your carabiner and stepped out of your harness, stashing it in your pack. “Fuck off.”
You’d moved towards the back entrance, but Hawks had slammed a hand against the concrete wall in front of you. You’d ducked under it and carried on, and he’d grabbed the back of your shirt.
“C’mon, if we didn’t know each other, and our eyes met from across the room at some hero gala, you’d be all over me, wouldn’t you?”
You had swiped his hand away. “I’d be putting a lid on my drink.”
His arms behind his back, Hawks had followed you through the door and behind the exposed pipes and closer to your targets. “Saw you coming onto Todoroki at the last one. You looked fine in his colours, but you would’ve looked better in mine.”
Don’t grace him with an answer; don’t grace him with an ans— “I wasn’t coming onto Shoto,” you’d said, pulling yourself up a couple of pipes for a better view—and you’d hit him when he flapped his wings to hover the few feet you’d ascended, because the noise might alert them.
“Yeah, you just simp for him, right? Then you didn’t step outside your comfortable ice queen act?” Hawks had gripped onto a pipe just underneath your ass. “You’re too much of a natural tease for that.”
How can you report him when he’s the head of his own agency? You guess the commission might listen, but what can they do besides slap his wrist? There’s really no one who can stop him, is there?
You hadn’t replied but instead crawled onto the iron catwalk. If you could position yourself about three-quarters of the way across, you’d be able to effectively activate your quirk and get this over with—wait, why would you think like that? You’d been waiting for this for ages.
A hand spreading across the small of your back had reminded you.
You’d flipped over with fire in your eyes and kicked him away as quietly as you could, but all he’d done was sit back on his knees to grin down at you, army-crawling your way through a dirty warehouse.
Would he take credit for your work again?
You’d shaken yourself. Eat my entire ass, Hawks. And with that, you’d continued inching towards your targets. When you’d gotten into position to watch them, Hawks had merely watched you.
You had scowled. “I’m gonna tear you a—”
“You had a hard childhood, didn’t you?”
A chill had unfurled up your spine, simple as that. Hawks now not only had the annoying air of an arrogant pick-up artist but also gave you an intense sense of danger. You’d moved away from him, regrettably away from your target, but Hawks had followed you, getting closer until his body heat had seeped into yours, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his dumb face.
“I could take suuuuch good care of you, little girl,” he’d said under his breath, “if only you’d let me. No one else is crazy enough to call me out or want more than the bare minimum.” His wings had folded in on his back, making themselves as small as possible to get closer to you. “If you give in, tell me yes, say please, you wouldn’t have to let any worries cross your pretty little mind. All you have to do is let me in.”
“Yikes,” you had said, sucking in through your teeth, “God, you’re a creep.”
Hawks had slammed you down onto the catwalk, iron reverberating through the warehouse as it struck your head, and your targets had looked up by the time the catwalk hinges had loosened and had come crashing down in the midst of their meeting.
You’re really not supposed to shoot guns inside. Don’t they know that’ll ruin their ears? No matter, really. You had fought them anyway, amidst crates splintering open from whatever they were shooting at you—fuck, that was a big hole. What’s oozing out of that? Gross, don’t step in it.
One with a normal revolver—his arm had given a woody crack when you’d bent it backwards—God, that was nice. Good sounds. If you could sample them into a rap track, you would.
You’d been planning a collab with a popular rapper while you’d hurled yourself at another villain, sawdust flying—just to keep your mind busy, really, but fucking—fucking Hawks had bested whoever he’d half-assed to the ground and had shouted your way.
“C’mere, you little shit—”
He’d scooped you up while you’d been taking care of it by yourself, and he had pinned you down behind a stack of crates that reached the remains of the catwalk, straddling you but keeping most of his weight off, his wings outstretched yet still hidden from the cloud of sawdust rising with deep gurgling on the far side.
“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he’d said over the chaos, spit flying, “You can’t handle this; you’re gonna get fucking killed. I can’t babysit you all the time.”
“Get fucked; I’m the number fourteen hero,” you’d said, deadly still, but twitching in fury, “I can handle anyth—”
“Aww, fourteen. And one day babygirl might reach the single digits.” Hawks had sneered in your face. “If she manages to fuck her way through them.”
Your jaw had dropped, and you pretended to cough on sawdust and kicked him off in the confusion. Hawks had grabbed a hold of your calf, grappling for your thigh, while you’d scrambled to climb over crates to the gurgling mess on the other side; you could handle it, and you would.
You’d slapped his hands away, wrestled out of his grasp again and again, and you’d launched yourself into the dust—
Yeah.
While the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, you picked at a hangnail. You hadn’t braced yourself for the explosion, so, you guessed you deserved whatever was wrong with you now. Big-ass gashes on your stomach. Probably broken ribs. Something felt off in your left leg, besides—oh, ho, what had the doctors thought when they’d seen Hawks’s scratches?
What an idiot.
When the door creaked open, the nurse returned with a mug of water for you, but—what? Who’s that bitch following him?
You blinked, twice. With his hands in his pockets and his nasty little wings tucked in behind him, Hawks meandered to your bedside, his gaze on your throat as you swallowed down water.
God, you’re too tired to deal with him. Let’s get this over with.
The nurse glanced over his clipboard. “I’ve already told your partner this, but I thought you would want him here.”
Maybe if you ignore Hawks, he’ll leave.
“You were very brave today,” said the nurse, “Your work as a hero is greatly appreciated. You’re on temporary leave to heal, though. Like I said, you’ve got three, major gashes on your stomach, and your leg’s broken—the fibula split, if you want to know. You’ll be on crutches for a while. You have four broken ribs, and—” The nurse bit his lip and softened his voice. “You hit your head pretty hard. Nothing’s broken, but you should have amnesia, with the trauma you’ve endured.”
Should have? They don’t know? You sure as hell don’t fucking have amnesia. It barely happens in real life, and it definitely hasn’t happened to you. You remembered every fucking infuriating thing Hawks did to ruin your mission, and if he doesn’t square up—
“I’m so sorry, baby,” said Hawks, grabbing your hand. He stroked the back of it with his thumb, and then he took his glove off to hold you skin-to-skin. “You remember who I am?”
You just stared at him.
“Your fiancé’s been a real presence in the waiting room,” said the nurse, “He hardly stopped pacing the entire time you were in surgery. He wouldn’t even talk to fans.”
Oh, my God.
Holy fucking shit.
“Oops, sorry,” said the nurse, covering his mouth, “I know you were keeping it a secret. Don’t blame him, please; he only told me to be able to see you immediately.”
Shutting your eyes, you took a deep, deep breath. You have been handed a golden opportunity on a fucking Hawks-shaped platter, holy fuck, and by God are you going to take advantage of it. Imagine how much you can fucking humiliate him, how far you can take it. How much you can make him pay for how he treated you, and now, if he says he’s your fiancé, then he’s gonna fucking worship you. You’re going to mould him into your little bitch, and he’s going to thank you for it. And you’ll get endless dirt on him just by seeing his place.
Don’t fuck this up.
Exhaling, you opened your eyes, blinking a bit. You curled your lips into your mouth, biting the lower one. “I remember you’re Hawks,” you said in a nervous voice, “and I remember, uh.”
“Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” Hawks squeezed your hand, his tone kind. “It’ll come back in time.”
You clutched Hawks’s hand while the nurse rattled off instructions and gave you your crutches, and Hawks squeezed your hand back, softly smiling at you.
When the nurse left, you turned to Hawks and said, “I’m so, so sorry, but I—I feel like there’s something big missing that I can’t remember.” You scratched your forehead with your free hand, dragging the IVs with you.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Hawks tilted his head, still gazing decidedly down at you.
“Oh, God,” you said, “Oh, fuck. I don’t know. Um.” Take it back. Take it way back. That way he’ll dig himself into a deeper hole. The more lies he has to create, the funnier it’ll be. “Let’s see, I, hm.” You already weren’t speaking like yourself, but you looked upward as you faked combing through memories. “I don’t know how things work chronologically, but the most recent memory I have of you is—it’s after a press conference, and I’ve never been in the building before,” you said slowly, “And I can’t find the bathroom, but some press keeps following me, and I—I faceplant in between your shoulder blades, right between your wings. You—” You lowered your voice, shrinking a little in the hospital bed, “You got rid of them so easily, with just a gesture, and you put your arm around me. You were—” You shook your head, staring at both of your hands. “—so warm.”
Was that too thick? That was too thick, wasn’t it?
His free hand shot to his mouth, and he bit his knuckle. “But sweetheart, that’s,” said Hawks, his eyes watering, “That’s only around the third time we met.”
You know.
“Shit,” you said, widening your eyes, “How long ago was that?”
“Three years.” Hawks squeezed your hand and kept the pressure longer than was necessary. “Three fucking years. You don’t remember anything past that?”
You pretended to be scared to look at him. “I’m sorry; I’m so sorry—”
“No, no, you don’t have to be,” said Hawks, and he leant towards you to lift your chin, rubbing his thumb against it, “It’s not your fault.”
You had to hand it to him: Hawks was a good actor.
But so were you.
***
Hawks disappeared for a while after that, but he manifested the day you were loosed from the hospital, more than giddy to carry all of your shit all the way to your flat. He was probably getting some sick pleasure from watching you hobble on your crutches.
“I can help you, if you lean on me,” said Hawks, giving you an easy grin, “I don’t want you to be in any more pain than you have to.”
“This is something I should do myself,” you said in what was hopefully a tough-it-out voice, “I’d like to be able to walk without depending on anyone.”
“I honestly think you ought to be in a wheelchair.” His wings bristled. “But what do I know? I could fly us to your place, if you like.”
“I don’t like. I’ve gotta concentrate on limping. Stop talking, Hawks.”
You got to your flat, and Hawks had guessed which key opened the door on the first try. Drat! He was already doing a good job of acting like he’d been here before, like he’s not surprised that the number fourteen hero lives in a pretty shitty apartment (you started living here as a student and got too damn comfortable for your own good—plus, you didn’t want your cat to endure the trauma of moving).
Hawks plopped your keys in the bowl by the door with a clatter, and he shut the front door behind you, flipping one of the locks.
He set your stuff neatly on the kitchen table—your purse, your tactical pack, your ropes—and lay your dry-cleaned hero suit over the back of a kitchen chair, and his hands were on you the next moment to guide you to your tacky, sunflower couch. Removing one crutch, he put your arm over his shoulder instead, one hand planted on your lower back above your bandages, and he eased you down onto the cushions.
Hawks then stepped over your legs to sit on your opposite side, and he brought your legs to rest in his lap, his hand gripping your non-casted leg. “Gotta keep it elevated, chickadee.”
You let yourself giggle. Time to get this shitshow started. “Thank you so much for helping me, Hawks; I know I’ve been a real hassle these past few days, and you shouldn’t have to deal with that sort of stress. You’re already under so much. I don’t understand how the commission would let you date anyone, let alone propose.”
“Oh, I know,” said Hawks, spreading himself out on the couch. He shifted himself to face you in addition to accommodate his wings—he was now positioned so that they’d drape over the arm of the couch instead of being squished against the back cushions. That bitch, he probably wasn’t used to couches that weren’t custom made to his special body requirements. Spoiled fuck.
“The commission was really pissed when they found out. Do you remember how, sweetness? Right, I’ll tell you,” said Hawks, running an ungloved hand through his hair before shaking it loose. “You remember up to the press conference with the faceplant. Short version is that you hated me for a good year before something clicked. You started acting awkward whenever I was around, avoiding me, and stuff. Sometimes getting red. I thought it was cute.”
You ducked your head. Flustered. He probably likes easily flustered women.
Wait. That’s not who you are. And he’d like you for who you are, if you’re engaged.
But at the same time, if you’re (gag) in love with him, wouldn’t you be flustered by some of the things he says?
Easy, baby. Take it as it comes. Pick your battles. Go with your gut.
And gut says make Hawks eat shit.
“You think I’m cute?”
“I know you’re cute.”
You’re going to stuff his own feathers down his throat.
“We got together at that dinner Endeavor’s agency sponsored. Do you remember that at all? That place with the purple lights. You’d gotten nervous from the crowd and had gone to take some of your anxiety meds. I caught you in the hall back from the bathroom and talked you down before going back out there.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’d like to say I’m the one who kissed you, but you took initiative before I had the guts.”
Funny. Hilarious, in fact. That was the night Hawks had solidified himself as the Biggest Dick in the World, because yeah, he’d caught you in the purple-lit hallway, but he’d caught you on the way to take your meds, not on the way back. You were talking yourself down from a panic attack and couldn’t argue him away, so he’d followed you into the bathroom, running his mouth and acting like it was an accident when the tip of his wing had knocked your two capsules down the sink.
He’d told you that if you’re a big girl, you’d be able to handle the rest of the night. Or you could leave at any time with him, and he’d make excuses that everyone would have to accept.
Honestly, you’d love to let his fake memory be true, because then, you’d be able to wear purple again without feeling queasy.
Cocking your head, you smiled. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”
Hawks let out a light laugh, craning his neck to rest his head on the back of the sofa. “That’s what you said that night, too. About how it felt out of character.”
“Was I good?”
Lifting his head, he raised an eyebrow at you: probably the first genuine emotion he’s shown you the whole time he’s been here. “Hm?”
“When I kissed you. Was it good,” you asked flatly.
“Oh,” Hawks said, his wings puffing out just barely, “Oh, sweetheart, you were amazing. Groundbreaking. Show-stopping.” His tongue flicked over his lower lip, and he shifted underneath your legs, leaning slightly towards you but holding eye contact before carrying on.
You shook your head. “I don’t have the energy to give you the makeout session you deserve,” you said, envisioning drowning him in the bathtub, “I’m exhausted. Forgive me.”
“Always,” said Hawks, “Want me to keep going?”
“You can hardly eat me out when we haven’t kissed yet.”
“I meant,” said Hawks, pausing to visibly swallow (was it real?), “about our relationship, but if you wanna eat—”
“Nah, keep going. So, I started the relationship? I must be crazy. Neither of us have fucking time to sleep, let alone be in a relationship.”
Hawks never shut up about how he was taking time out of his endlessly packed days to spend time with you, how time was precious to him, and if he’s spending time with you, why, then, you’d better pay up, bitch (always accompanied with his hands on his belt, subtly pointing his thumbs towards his cock).
Hawks shrugged with his wings instead of his shoulders. Interesting. Has he ever done that before? “The commission said that, but after I insisted we’d make time, they relented. Eventually,” said Hawks, jerking his head to the side, “Our quirks don’t exactly fit well, so we haven’t worked with each other professionally too often, and, of course, we’ve had to hide our relationship so that we can’t be a public weak spot to each other. Plus, we’re more marketable as eligible, young heroes.”
“Fuck the market,” you said, slumping into the pillows.
“There’s my girl,” said Hawks, grinning with his tongue caught between his teeth, “There’s her spark. I know, baby. I feel the same way, but being made into libidinous body pillows pays the bills, y’know?”
Nodding, you brought one of the couch pillows around for you to hug, and you smushed your chin into it. “Hawks,” you said, so quietly you almost couldn’t be heard over the A/C kicking on, “How long have we been engaged?”
“Four months,” he said, his grin unconsciously fading until he was essentially baring his teeth, “Since the twentieth.”
Taking a moment, you said, “I can’t remember anything at all.”
“That’s okay. It’ll come back.”
“No, I can’t—” You slid your hands through your hair, pulling at it, and you heaved a sigh. “Goddammit, Hawks. I wish I could—fuck. I’m missing something huge. I know I am.” Make him nervous. Make him lie awake at night. “I’m sorry, Hawks. It’s probably something really important, and I—”
“Shh, shh, shh, shh, it’s all right,” said Hawks, and he stood to lean over you, his hands rising to cup your face, and holy shit, his hands cover so much of your skin; is that legal? He’s got hands. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ve had a big day. Turn your brain off. I’ll take care of you.”
Red flag! Big, red flag! Creep! He’s a creep!
Your gaze fell to his jacket pockets. Does he carry date rape drugs on his person?
“Hawks, I don’t wanna inconvenience you any more than I have.”
“I’m your fiancé,” said Hawks, actually looking you straight in the eyes and not breaking, “I want to take care of you.”
“Sure, in the way the mob takes care of people.”
Hawks’s mouth opened slightly, and his eyes narrowed.
Cover it up. “I’m not sorry. I don’t trust your cooking. You’ll poison my spaghetti!” You made a dumb gesture, pinching your fingers together. “Have you seen The Godfather? There’s actually a pretty legit spaghetti recipe in it; it’s not too bad, but it’s kind of watery—”
Hawks brought your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles and let his lips linger. “Watch it with me?”
You shook your head. “I’m too tired. I’m going to bed.”
“I’ll join you.”
“No,” you said, “My bed’s not made with your wings in mind.” Fuck off to your own little sex next, Hawks. Get out of here. “If they got hurt, it’d be my fault. Go sleep in your own bed, all right?” Go home. Get mugged on the way.
Hawks sighed, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “If you insist. But you’ve gotta reach out to me for anything you have trouble with, yeah? Memories, opening jars, orgasms, you know.”
“I’m leaving,” you said, reaching for your crutches, “Ten minutes ago.”
***
“You didn’t tell me how you proposed.”
Hawks froze mid-bite of his ramen, but after a quick beat, he slurped the rest of the noodle up. “I was hoping you’d recall that on your own, baby. Get your own feelings about it, instead of me telling you how to feel.”
If you weren’t faking amnesia, you’d fucking break his nose for that. Bastard.
“I imagine once you tell me, the feelings will rush in,” you said, clicking your chopsticks twice for emphasis, “I want to remember everything, and if I don’t, well, I want to fall in love with you again.”
Hawks’s gaze glazed over for an infinitesimal moment. Score.
“It’ll sound goofy once I describe it.” With his wings cramped against the back of the booth, Hawks scratched the back of his neck—a classic move for pretending to be embarrassed. “I’m not exactly known for being romantic.”
Yeah, he’s known for fooling around with anyone who’s glittery, like a goddamn crow. If you’re paying attention.
“Aw, but Hawks, you’ve been nothing but so effortlessly romantic to me since I’ve been convalescing,” you said, rolling up the paper wrapper of your straw and soaking it in the ring your cup left on the table.
“Right, well. I flew us out to the countryside, to this overlook halfway up a mountain. You liked going rappelling there a lot. To practise for missions.” Hawks had some of your habits down, at least. Bet he gets the location wrong, though. “We watched the sunrise. We shared a thermos of tea. I asked you once the sun had risen, but you didn’t say yes right away,” said Hawks, “You jumped off the overlook without your gear, and I caught you. You were furious about it—you didn’t want me to see you overwhelmed. But you said yes.”
Ugh. That sounded about right. That sounded pretty realistic. Hawks was a fucking stalker.
“Fuck,” you said, burying your face in your hands, “That’s cute.” You stretched the skin of your cheeks before releasing, and you returned to your ramen. “Question: did we put the ring into storage, or something? I don’t have the little indent on my ring finger from wearing a ring too long, and I haven’t found anything at home.” Make him sweat. Make him stumble. Where’s the ring, Hawks?
With a flash of his eyebrows, Hawks maneuvered his straw to his mouth using only his lips, looking quite stupid, in your opinion. “Figured you’d ask that at some point. I’m so overjoyed to see you every time that I forget to bring it up. The ring’s been sent off to a high-level, government-backed, support company. I’ve pulled in a favour from the higher-ups. I wanted to turn your ring into something a little more personal and incorporate one of my feathers into it,” said Hawks, taking a moment to slurp his drink noisily, “Depending on how well it goes, I’d be able to help you if we’re separated and know where you are. At the very least—” Hawks ducked his head to give the illusion of staring up at you with wide eyes, his blond eyelashes light against his skin. “—I’d be able to feel your heartbeat. It would bring me great comfort.”
Great, so he’d have a GPS on you at all times, knowing whether or not you went somewhere he didn’t want you to. He’d be able to tell if you went somewhere your non-amnesia self would know about. Great. Phenomenal.
“Hawks, that’s very sweet,” you said, fiddling with the remnants of your straw wrapper, now fizzled out of its snake shape, “Wouldn’t the process hurt you, though? Since you can feel it.”
“Nothing more than a twinge, sweetheart,” said Hawks, holding up his hands, “And I’d bear any amount of pain for your sake.”
You fantasised about beating his head in with the back end of a rifle.
***
When you were told Hawks was waiting for you outside of the recording booth, you told the messenger that Hawks could wait until you were finished with five more takes. You could picture Hawks’s little pout at the news, his feathers bristling despite the closed space, and resigning himself to sit in one of those clangy, metal chairs out front, having to hunch forward so that he didn’t crush his wings.
The idol group adored the ingenuity of bone-crunching as percussion in a song, and along with that and some other combat foley, you were singing the bridge with the rapper of the group (the dance captain would sing your part for live shows). It’d be a good promo for the girl group and for you, and the song, “Spine,” was going to be released as a single as soon as it was polished.
Hawks perked up the moment you stepped through the secondary door to the booth, his eyes brightening and wings spreading to take up more space. “I didn’t think I’d catch you,” said Hawks, standing to take your hands (the cold leather gloves sucked the heat out of your hands), “I’ve got to fly, soon, but I wanted to tell you personally.”
“You’re not pregnant,” you said, fighting the urge to break his goggles/visor/hat thing.
His lopsided grin widened. “Not yet, baby. There’s gonna be a heroes’ gala held at the end of the month, and I wanted to let you know that I’m doing everything in my power to make it a positive experience for you. Here, I’ve got this woman’s phone number,” he said, fishing a slip of paper out of his jacket, “She’ll help accommodate the venue for your leg.”
Stupid fucking bastard man. He probably wanted to pick out your clothes himself, infantilise you and dress you up like a goddamn doll. Deny you your personhood. “I’ll be out of the cast by then.” You slid the paper into your back pocket.
“I know,” Hawks said in a way that was a fucking lie, “I just don’t want there to be any accidents. I can’t have my babygirl any more hurt than she is.” Hawks placed his cold, gloved hand against your cheek, and you, shutting your eyes, made yourself lean into it. “But contact her. She’ll make it the safest place it can be for you, even when I have to leave your side.”
God, galas were great. Big events for villains to ruin. You licked your lips thinking about using a new move you’ve learnt to take a villain down (involving clamping your legs around the villain’s neck to choke him as he crumpled to the floor—your combat coach had banned you from the move after you made her pass out). “Are we announcing our engagement, then? If we’re going together?”
“I’d love to,” said Hawks, “but only if you want to. The ring could be ready by then, if I ask them to rush it—”
“Let’s do it.” If you plunged the ring into icy water, would he start to shiver? Ooh, your ring’s going to act as a fucking bay leaf in your soups for a while.
“Oh,” said Hawks, sighing lightly with his eyes fluttering shut. He pressed his forehead to yours and rubbed his thumb over your cheek. “You have no idea how much that means to me, sweetheart. You are so dear to me, and I want everyone to know it. The best damn thing in my life. Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you said, placing your hand on his face to push him away, “Don’t you have work to do, screw boy?”
***
“Did we have a date?” you asked from the edge of the bathtub.
Hawks dipped the razor in the water, washing off the hair and shaving cream. “We’ve gone on so many, darling; you’ll have to specify.”
“No, I meant for the wedding.” Let’s once again play: Can Hawks Cover His Own Ass?
Hawks dragged the razor down your freshly exfoliated, freshly-un-casted, freshly not-broken leg, starting at your knee. “Nope!”
“No explanation?”
“You wanna get married tomorrow? A six-month engagement is rather short, don’t you think?” His nose twitched. He’d said the scent of your shaving cream irritated his nose. Good.
“I don’t. Why didn’t we have a date for the wedding?” You eyed the actual and literal pile of your dead skin on the towel. Maybe you should make Hawks snort it.
“We were too busy working; you’d said you didn’t mind having a long engagement, so long as I was yours. Then, uh, you know. The accident,” Hawks said with a shrug—with his shoulders this time, because if he moved his wings while he was crouched in your bathtub, he’d soak them, and they were a bitch to dry, apparently. Suffer, you rat bastard.
“The commission isn’t involved in that decision?”
“I thought that was implied,” said Hawks, gripping your ankle to turn your calf to the side, “They don’t want it to be a huge spectacle, so even I don’t know how much of a wedding wedding they’d let us have.”
He’s too damn good at this. If he weren’t a pro-hero, he’d fit right along in a theatre troupe.
You’re going to wring his neck.
You caught him staring at the crotch of your underwear (bone-dry, you might add) while he shaved your thighs, and he spent more time rubbing lotion into your inner thighs than anywhere else. He tossed your dead skin before you could make him eat it, and he scooped you up against your protestations about your weight and capability, humming while he carried you to your bed.
The fucker tucked you in and rounded up your cat to place in your arms (your cat disagreed with him and promptly leapt off the bed).
“Let me stay with you,” said Hawks, kissing each of your fingertips. It’s an order.
Yet you shook your head.
***
“The doctors said you shouldn’t drink,” Hawks said under his breath, taking the champagne flute gently from your grasp.
“But I want to,” you said, sticking out your lower lip, “I’m wearing goddamn heels and a fucking dress. I’ve got on makeup, for Christ’s sake. I’ve done my time; let me drink.”
“Baby, you’ve got to stay safe,” he said, and he set the glass next to some 40s-level hero’s place at the long, white tablecloth. “There’s already press paying more attention to us than usual. You wanna make a fool of yourself?”
“Yes,” you said, lifting another champagne flute from a passing gala waiter, “Who gives a shit about the press.”
Hawks laughed too loudly to be natural before lowering his voice. “Baby, you are gonna be the death of me.”
“Promise?”
***
When “Spine” was released on a cool, spring morning to an excitable audience, you were lurking in alleyways by the docks, searching for a fight. When the music video dropped, you were smashing some guy’s face into a concrete wall. While more and more citizens recognised you and your talent, your work for the community, your connections, your popularity—with your rank steadily rising—you were rappelling down a port sewer to pummel a slime villain into dust.
You wiped his blood off on your pants, hands devoid of anything that could taint. You’d left the ring at home.
***
“You tricked me,” you said, scowling as Hawks pushed you forward, “This isn’t the rock climbing park.”
Once you deliberately smashed your face into the glass door and crossed your arms, Hawks held the door open for you. “Would you have dressed up so nicely for rock climbing?”
“A meta-game challenge,” you said, “to rock-climb in a long skirt.”
You glowered about the restaurant while you and Hawks stood in the lobby, his hand low on your back, suspiciously respectfully. You made no effort to hide your distaste: it was the place with the purple lights.
Over there at the absurdly long bar, Endeavor had drunk flat whisky without so much of a growl at anyone, despite it being his event. Hexagonal tables with lilac tablecloths dotted the floor—you’d hidden in one of the few booths, up against the exposed brick wall—but your hiding place had been ruined once a violet disco ball had emerged from the ceiling. Shiny, wooden floor that had reflected your post-panic attack face right back at you and let every shoe strike it with a clatter. No silence allowed.
The whole restaurant had lavender LED lights running around the walls, swathing the place in a distorted sort of purple haze, and any candles lit on the centre tables had indigo flames—you’d focused on how those might have been made in the process of coming down from your panic attack.
God. You’re going to throw up.
The hostess escorted you and Hawks to a farther back room, this one with booths separated by small, brick walls that didn’t reach the ceiling yet concealed the booths’ occupants from each other—unless you were passing directly in front of one.
Hawks made you sit in the booth first, trapping you in as he settled. He had to be on the edge, anyway, he told you, because of his wings. You’re going to rip them off and boil them in the soup.
The two of you ordered. You don’t remember what. You can only channel so much of your nerves into jostling your leg. This is not cool. This place is not cool. You need to get out.
“Hey, let me through,” you said, nudging Hawks, “Bathroom.”
Once there, you lightly slapped your cheeks a couple of times, trying to ground yourself through physical sensation. No use. Can’t they fucking use normal lights in this place?
You didn’t have your panic meds, because you’ve never needed them rock climbing. You can do it. You’re fine. You’re fine. Your tongue is too big for your mouth.
You took your time meandering back to the booth, coming to a halt at the end of the narrow hallway and ducking behind the corner.
Endeavor stood by your booth, his arms crossed over a flaming chest. You caught your breath at the sight of his orange fire, a comforting contrast to all the damn purple, but still—Endeavor. Talking to your (gag) fiancé.
Without the courage to interact with Endeavor, you listened at the corner for his departure.
“Nah, she can handle her bladder just fine. It’s her nerves,” Hawks was saying, hidden by the bricks, “She likes hiding. She doesn’t necessarily like being in the spotlight.”
“Yet she hasn’t completely withdrawn as Eraserhead has. You’ve picked a strange one to marry.”
From the angle Endeavor glared at him, Hawks must be slumping in his seat. “But that’s what so great about her. And it’s hard to process, y’know, like, she’s finally mine. You follow?”
“Regrettably,” said Endeavor, “Regardless, I offer my congratulations that your courtship finally worked out in your favour. You should have told me sooner.”
Courtship. That’s a funny way to pronounce bullying.
“Eh, I’ve gotta have some secrets, don’t I? Can’t betray my otherwise cool exterior.” Hawks laughed. “I can’t believe I’ve been allowed such happiness. The woman I’ve loved for years is gonna be waking up to me every day soon, y’know?”
Hawks has got to know you can hear him, otherwise he wouldn’t be saying those things. Endeavor must be in on Hawks’s ruse, since Endeavor is Hawks’s closest—actually, Endeavor isn’t the type to revel in romantic shit. Endeavor straight-up isn’t the type to revel. To the best of your knowledge, Endeavor doesn’t genuinely like Hawks as so much as tolerates him; when did they get so close? It must have taken a long time—
Time.
You could feel your IQ dropping as you actually considered: had you been in a legitimate coma? Had you (fuck) genuinely had amnesia?
No, no. You don’t live in Crazytown. Your eyebrows hadn’t been overgrown when you’d woken up in the hospital. You’d only been there a day.
Of course, Hawks is a vain piece of shit and does his own eyebrows, so he might have considered that yours were a piece of pride/insecurity for you and may have done them while you were—did Hawks do his own eyebrows? That spoiled fuck probably had someone else to do them for him. If they were naturally like that, you were going to throttle his ass.
You didn’t fucking have amnesia. Hawks is and always has been a stupid, clammy birdbrain. He’s always been cruel to you. He didn’t fucking like you.
He sure as hell wasn’t in fucking love with you.
Oh, my fuck, what if your memories of Hawks have been fabricated by a coma-addled mind and that—
“Hey, there,” said—said someone, some pale-ass, sleep-deprived freak who startled you out of your head, “Are you all right? You look—I mean, do you need some water? A chair?”
You blinked, yet he wouldn’t come into focus—you were taking in details about him, ones that didn’t fucking matter (chain on his wallet, three rings all on the left hand, a button-down missing the last button, a cloud of axe body spray), but he didn’t register as a human person. He couldn’t; you hadn’t grounded yourself yet. You yourself still had a frazzled, cartoon scribble buzzing inside of your chest, and until you vomited it up, a panic attack may yet still happen.
You can’t deal with anyone new right now.
A spark of recognition crossed the new guy’s face, and he, through a smirk, asked if you were your hero name.
Oh god oh fuck not now
“Sweetheart,” came Hawks’s melodious drawl (registering first his voice, then bodily warmth, then the wingtip covering your ass), “You were taking so long that I came to check on you.” He pulled you by the waist towards him, blocking the guy from seeing your face by pressing it into his chest. “Who’s this?”
Who cares. All you could focus on (sharp and overwhelming, nothing else but) was how fucking incredible Hawks smelled, and at this point, you’d use anything to bring yourself back down to earth. A small voice in the back of your head told you that freaking out to this degree in this particular situation was leaning towards pathetic, since basically nothing happened, besides being in an uncomfortable environment and being accosted by a fan at the wrong time, but you? You did not control the rate at which your brain panicked.
And really, no rhyme or reason played into why your grabby little hands itched for human contact once safe in the booth again, why Hawks’s scent lay on your tongue more heavily than your soup, why the overwhelming sensation of being so fucking spaced out of it threw its entire weight upon your shoulders—you couldn’t find yourself. You were lost.
And in this horrible, purple place, the only thing that’s familiar was Hawks.
When you scooted as closely as you could to him in the booth, keeping your glare towards your lap while you looped your arm under his to snuggle into it, Hawks cleared his throat to say, “What’s this?”
You scowled into his jacket, both hands gripping his forearm.
He set his chopsticks down. “How can I help, darling?”
Growling, you bonked your forehead against his shoulder, dragging your hands down to his.
“Hey,” said Hawks, and he guided your face towards his and stroked your cheek with his thumb, “Did that guy bother you too much before I got there?”
Turning your mouth towards the hand cupping your cheek, you kissed his palm, bit the leather, and kissed it again before burying yourself in his shoulder again.
He rested his hand on the crown of your head. “What’s the matter? Can you tell me?”
“Not sure I can put it into words,” you said, “I think I wanna go home.” You bit the fabric of his jacket and gnashed it between your teeth.
“I can handle that,” said Hawks, “Gimme a moment to get takeaway boxes, yeah? Then we’ll leave, and you’ll be safe. Don’t worry.”
Unfortunately, you were still clutching onto his arm by the time he unlocked his darkened penthouse (because you’re not gonna hold his hand. God), but you slapped his hand away from the light switches.
“Turning them on would be too much stimulation,” you said, “Please don’t.”
Hawks hummed against the top of your head, placing keys and both of your phones on the kitchen counter. “Bed or couch?”
“Window,” you said.
“Window?”
“I’m assuming you’ve got one.”
“I do,” said Hawks, guiding you through his dark apartment, probably past scarily expensive, posh shit. He led you to what was most likely his living room, with the cool, dim light of the night sky through a vast, single-frame, wall-to-floor window illuminating furniture custom built for his wings, but he eased you down onto the carpet, tugging your shirt upwards so that the window would be touching your bare skin on the small of your back.
Hawks yanked his boots off, late, instead of at the door, and he tossed them over his shoulder. He took yours off, too, and once he’d set them aside, he sat next to you against the window, a hand on your thigh.
“Better?”
“Probably,” you said, staring at the triangle of light beige carpet between your crossed legs.
“Need me to talk? You need to talk?”
“Not right now.”
Hawks was a dumbass. He’s such a fucking dumbass. But he’s a dumbass who’s here right now, and he’s interested (?) in you, interested in helping you. And good golly, you have to be touched. Hawks’s offering warmth, freely, potentially lovingly, and all you had to do was reach out to take it, even if you didn’t reciprocate whatever sentiment was motivating him yourself.
Do you really want to take what you have no feelings for?
Hawks lies a lot to Endeavor. To everyone. He might not have been lying earlier. What reason had he to lie?
Guess it didn’t matter, because you were lying.
But good God, you haven’t been kissed in a long time. Haven’t felt safe or loved. You could…you could indulge for a few hours in order to calm down. You could pretend.
The last ten months had proved that.
“Hey,” you said idly, reaching out to grab the inner fleece lining of his jacket to rub it between your fingers, “Hawks, I’m gonna—I’m gonna put my mouth on your mouth. Okay?”
Hawks’s wings ruffled and constricted themselves so that he could move closer to you, and his hand has migrated from your thigh to grip your hip—how could anyone’s hands encompass that much of you? Your fucking hands couldn’t, not in the way his does.
(Bird man big and safe.)
([No, fuck you, don’t think that.])
(BIRD MAN SAFE—)
Shoved is how you’d describe the first few seconds of the kiss, followed closely by wet and you’d think his teeth would be sharper. Your lips didn’t line up with his completely until he adjusted your chin with two of his fingers, guiding it open just barely, as well, so that his tongue could graze your teeth—it took you a moment of processing before parting them, with a final don’t think! shouted to your neocortex.
Birds have a higher body temperature than other animals, on average having a body temperature of 105 degrees Fahrenheit (40 degrees Celsius). The colour of their feathers, of course, affects how much light and heat they absorb, with the lighter coloured feathers—say, red—reflecting more, rejecting outside heat sources.
Yet Hawks gripped you like he’d fucking freeze if he weren’t clutching you, if he weren’t straddling your legs, one palm flat against the cool of the window by your head. The other snaked around you, his forearm lying almost vertically up your back to press down between your shoulder blades, keeping you as near to his chest (he probably didn’t realise it, but his fingers ran across the curve of your shoulder blades where his wings were on his own body.
For some reason, the thought crossed your mind that you weren’t enough for him, because you were too dissimilar.)
Don’t think!
When he massaged your tongue with his, applying pressure sporadically, you returned the action—have you ever seen a bird tongue up close? They’re fucking nasty little things, looking more like a grub than anything else. Thank God Hawks had a normal, human tongue that performed particularly delightful, normal things, like drag across the roof of your mouth and aid in sucking phenomenal hickeys onto your jawline, licking over where he’s bitten and kissed.
Stop thinking about bird anatomy. Hawks has no discernible bird traits except for his fucking wings. He’s not a fucking bird man. He’s just some dude with wings. And not all birds have functional wings; for example, the ostrich and the penguin do not have wings to be used in flight—
Oh, my fuck. Turn your brain off.
Your stomach lurched. That had been something Hawks had told you too often, back before your accident.
It’s what he wants.
Hawks fucking whimpered when you pulled the shorter hairs at the back of his neck, prying him away from your skin with great difficulty—he kept trying to touch you with his mouth and tongue in the process.
“Let me have more,” he said, panting, his breath heavy and just below your ear, “Please.” He pressed his lips to the spot in front of your ear in a weak kiss, having spent himself for the most part. “I’ve missed you so much, baby. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me for so long.”
“I don’t—” You fake-stuttered, but it turned out you needed the time to put your thoughts into words. “I don’t think I’m back yet. I’m,” you said, taking as deep a breath as you could with Hawks smushed against your chest, “Something’s missing. Something big.” That’s right. Steer it back in his direction. Make the bird man sweat. “I don’t—something doesn’t feel right.”
It took a moment, but Hawks nodded fervently, shutting his eyes. “Of course. Yeah. Yeah, I get it, sweetheart. Can’t do anything when your heart’s not in it.”
Your heart’s not the problem. “Thank you for being so understanding, Hawks,” you said, untangling yourself from underneath him, “Would you just, uh, hold me for a while?”
His wings wrapped around the both of you on his enormous bed, still fluttering with each slow breath he took. Hawks almost looked genuine while he slept, and probably for the best—at least he was getting rest; at least his guard might be down.
You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing.
***
“Rank speculation is out,” you said, scrubbing the pumice stone over a patch of dry skin on Hawks’s back and scrolling through the twitter with your other hand, “Take a look.”
He opened the link you sent once he’d safely removed a dead feather that had been lodged in an odd spot in a wing. “Huh. Think I could truly take on Endeavor?”
“Well, he’s got that abusive-to-his-family thing, while you’re rocking the preparing-for-my-wedding look, and he can’t network non-aggressively to save his life.”
“Nor can you.��� Hawks shot you a smirk over his shoulder.
“Zoom in on my speculated nine, baby,” you said, flicking away some dead skin with a satisfied/disgusted sneer, “And I didn’t have to sleep my way there.”
“Ah, ha, ha,” said Hawks, “Knew you could do it. Whoever’s told you that is gonna have to deal with my foot up their ass. You’re more than capable of getting there on your own.”
“Which I did. I have.” Wait. Hawks told you that. No, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s a commonly said, misogynistic comment towards women heroes. Hawks isn’t special. “But having your foot up someone’s ass wouldn’t be good for PR, unless you wanted to advertise that you’re a kinky son of a bitch who’s cheating on his fiancée.”
“I would never,” said Hawks, and, contorting his arm, he grabbed your hand with the pumice stone to kiss the back of it, “But my PR is solid, regardless.”
“If the public knew how much time you had to spend preening these fucking wings, they’d probably appreciate you more. Or call you conceited.”
Hawks hummed. “It’s a necessary evil,” he said, returning to his wingtip to search for dead feathers. “Thank you for helping.”
“No problem. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t get to see how—Hawks, holy fuck. Do you feel that?” You ran a finger near the base of a wing.
“It’s your finger?”
“No, this,” you said, tapping the spot.
“No?”
“My God. It’s a dilated pore of a winer,” you said, already reaching for the tweezers, “Right at the base of your wing. It’s basically an enormous fucking blackhead. I’m popping it. Oh, my God. I’ve never seen one in real life.”
“You’re popping it?”
“You didn’t have a problem with my getting the ones where your costume sits.”
“No,” said Hawks, rolling back his shoulders, his wings spreading with them, “Gotcha. Get on with it.”
“Can I film it?”
“What? No,” said Hawks, “No one can see me preening, let alone dealing with acne.”
“There’s sure to be another hero out there with a wing quirk, right? I don’t know how you can’t feel it.”
“Yeah,” Hawks said slowly, “Since my feathers can feel—I suppose where the wings merge with my skin is pretty numb. I haven’t ever had to think about it.” He licked his lips. “Funny.”
He continued to scroll through his feed and tend to his feathers while you worked at his back. “Bad news: the tabloids got a hold of our grocery list from the last time we went to the shops. I must have dropped it at some point in the store.”
“Oh, so do they know what kind of ice cream we prefer? The horror.”
“No, but they’ve brought in some hack handwriting analyst. Talking about our annotations for each other on the list. Something about how you’re logical and I’m a romantic. The writer of the article is practically swooning.” Hawks pulled out a clot of feathers with his teeth and spat them aside. “With good reason, though. The trashy pictures they snapped of us are hot.”
“Describe them to me.”
“I can show you—”
“No,” you said, concentrating on your work, “I don’t want the image imprinted on my brain. Describe them in your own words.”
“All right,” said Hawks, crossing his legs and placing his phone on the coffee table in front of him, “To start, the flash is on.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Yeah. We’ve got that distantly surprised look going on. It looks like we’re near the eggs and cheese. You’re not looking at the camera, but I believe it’s in the moment I caught it.” Hawks flicked away a feather and let it fall to the carpet. “My hand’s on your waist. The other’s on the cart. You’ve scrunched your face up in concentration; it’s really cute.”
“Aw, we should get it framed,” you said, wiping away the gunk with a tissue and wadding it up so that no one will ever have to see or touch it ever again.
“Never,” said Hawks, “The first picture of us I wanna get framed should be on our wedding day.”
“It’s coming along quickly,” you said, setting aside the tweezers, “Bit more quickly than I’d thought it would.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait,” said Hawks with a light laugh, and you ducked to rest your head against his shoulder, straining your neck to reach him over his wing.
Hawks clicked his non-nasty, non-bird tongue. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
Sighing, you said, “Turn your head this way.”
He did you one better, since he anticipated your plan. He twisted around, keeping his legs crossed as he pulled you into his lap. His wings initially bristled but wrapped around you when his arms did, and Hawks kissed your cheek, once, twice, until he arrived at your mouth, where he barely grazed your lips, rather letting his hot breath spread over your face—and he grinned up at you with half-lidded eyes (he’d left off his eyeliner today, but the natural marks below his waterline kept his eyes sharp, anyway).
“Kiss me, you fucking idiot,” you said, overriding whatever he was about to do by kissing him yourself, hard and open-mouthed, almost violent in its fervent. Yet Hawks held you lightly, delicately, but still close enough to freeze.
You ran your cold, cold hands over his bare abdomen, pressing your thumb down with considerable force to trace his muscles (he grunted at that, and that’s it; that’s right—make him squirm; make him sweat; make him yours). His finger only toyed with the hem of his shirt that you were wearing, as if waiting for you, which didn’t line up with what you had garnered about Hawks at all, but c’mon, man, come on; didn’t you want this all those months ago? Almost a year, now? Years, if what he said to Endeavor is true? But when he flinched away with a shaky breath once your cold fingers circled his nipple, you knew this was where you were supposed to be: right here, in Hawks’s lap, completely destroying him with hardly anything at all. Nothing but light touches and a strategic flick of your tongue. Idiot man. He must really like you if this is doing it for him.
You slowed and opened your eyes at that thought, frowning, and you pulled away. With the back of his hand, Hawks wiped saliva off of both of your mouths, yours first.
He waited for you.
“If you can’t take all of me, then what’s the point?”
He tilted his head. “I’ll take whatever part of you you’re willing to share.”
“I’m missing something.”
“I know.”
“I want to find it before we get married.” You laid your palm flat on his chest, and he grinned at the cold.
“You can find it,” he said, “I know you can.”
“I don’t know what I’m blocking out,” you said, lying—or maybe you weren’t? Fuck it. “Whatever I’m repressing is really fucking with me.”
“Take your time,” said Hawks, running his tongue over his lower lip. “I’m here for—”
“Hawks,” you said, faking the light of realisation in your eyes, accompanied with a sharp inhale, “I can’t remember your name.”
Hawks’s mouth snapped shut.
“You told me once. I know you did,” you said, moving to cup his cheek after tapping the mark underneath his eye, “but the memory—there’s a blur where you spoke. I—” You cut yourself off, biting your lip. “That, that might be it. I don’t know. Everything else about the scene is in perfect detail. I remember what fucking socks I was wearing, for Christ’s sake. But you. What you said. Maybe it’s something so personal, so intimate, that I’ve repressed it. Maybe it was too much for me to handle.” You cupped his face with both hands now, forcing him to look at you. If you hadn’t been scrutinising him for some evidence of breaking character, you wouldn’t’ve seen the minute quivering of his upper lip. Hardly there, but it was there. “It’s a part of you that I want. Even if I couldn’t handle it before, I want to try now.”
Hawks averted his gaze, even though he couldn’t move his head. And bang, you’ve got him. Hawks’s name was still strictly secret, hidden by the commission, but if he’s genuinely in this dumbass situation for the long haul, if he’s truly in it for you, then he would have told you. Even if he wanted you to continue to call him Hawks, your own fiancé would have told you his damn name.
So, this is it. The way out.
Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out you’ve been faking all this time. Good. Let each feather burn.
“Keigo,” he said, staring into your eyes with a newfound determination, “My name is Takami Keigo.”
Oh, shit—you clapped a hand over your heart, your eyes widening. Maybe you could play this off as memory recovery instead of absolute shock? But you hadn’t any memories to recover, probably. Holy fuck.
Where do you go from here?
You tried to say his name but ended up simply mouthing it, and after clearing your throat and coughing a bit, you managed to say it aloud. “Keigo,” you said softly, reaching for his hand, “Keigo, I fucking love you.”
You’d only been kissing him for a few moments before his wings shuddered in a muscle spasm and flung you off to the side.
***
Only a commission higher-up witnessed your wedding. She stood silently to the side the entire ceremony in the courthouse and only shook Hawks’s hand afterwards.
You and your cat essentially moved into his penthouse and adjusted. Your mostly empty apartment stayed leased under your name.
Sometimes, you’d note that you turned your brain off and instantly be hit with a lightning strike of self-loathing—but you didn’t have to consciously decide to be affectionate with Hawks. Being with him came naturally and easily. Probably for the best, since if you had to think about it, you’d screw it up.
You stayed together. Supported each other. Sneaked out to see the other on patrol. Took care, listened to each other. Defended each other. Worked it out.
And now, you stared up at the ceiling fan whirling in your darkened bedroom, Keigo lying on his stomach next to you in the bed as he slept. Your cat catloafed between his wings and nestled into them, rising and falling with each breath he took. Hawks was perfect, always saving the day, working up a routine to mesh with your fighting style and quirk, always charming and easygoing with the people he rescued, indulging you in your ferocity, and Keigo, Keigo whispered sweet and dirty things into your ear when he spotted you in public, made you laugh, worked wonders with his cock, helped you clean up before he even thought of preening himself, held you, and made you feel held. He’s got it bad.
And maybe you do, too.
Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out.
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