Tumgik
#hes a very good professor. Eccentric. but good
One of the really amusing things about college is that if you pay attention you sometimes can discern some of your professor's favorite pet concepts.
For instance, in my Topology course this semester, the Zariski topology has come up at least once in every single homework set so far, and in multiple lectures.
And okay, that's not that weird. The Zariski topology is a really important object in a LOT of fields, especially algebraic geometry. And discussing it at length is a really pedagogically sound move because the Zariski topology is a good example of a topology with a very well motivated structure (the closed sets are the algebraic sets!) that still very naturally gives rise to a lot of strange features, like the way all open sets in the standard topology are Zariski-dense. It was quite effective at startling me out of the complacency of unconsciously basing my intuition of how topologies behave entirely on the standard topology on the reals. So my professor bringing up Zariski so often doesn't necessarily mean he has any special affection for it.
except...
My professor writes many of the homework problems himself. Not all of them - the less interesting ones he lifts from the textbook- but some. Well, every single Zariski topology question I've encountered so far is an original from this guy. I know because the all the questions he writes personally have paragraphs of commentary contextualizing why he thinks the problem is interesting and where the ideas in the problem are going later in the course. And well- let's just say the asides on the Zariski topology have been copious indeed
AND THEN there's the way he talks about the Zariski topology in class! It's with this blend of enthusiasm and fascination only comparable to the way I've seen tumblrites talk about their blorbos. Like hey! Come behold this sgrungy little guy! Isn't he fucked up? Isn't he marvelous? And I look and I can only conclude YEAH that is indeed a spectacular specimen, he's so strange, I want to put him in a terrarium and study him (and then I get to! In my homeworks!)
Anyways. It makes me really happy picking up on how excited my professor is to share this topology with us. I'm kind of baffled that people assume math is a boring field full of boring people when there exist folks like my professor who get this passionate about a topology!
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ante--meridiem · 5 months
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To socialise or not to socialise, that is the question.
#Looked at two places I could move out to & they are complete opposite vibes in terms of socialableness#Both have roommates ofc but one gives me a lot more of my own space & it seems like I would barely have to interact with them at all#So I'd be left pretty much completely alone. Which is usually the dream#And ngl knowing the other people there would keep to themselves & have no interest in knowing me is especially relieving#Given the whole thing that pushed me to move out in the first place#The other has extremely small & cozy vibes. Owner's stuff all over the place#By cozy I do mean cluttered#The girl I met with there (not the person I'd be renting from) gave me a tour for five-ten mins#And then the next 30 mins-60 mins we spent chatting over tea#Someone more sociable than me might call it instant bestie vibes#Which. Has been something I've kind of very much been missing/yearning for irl I will admit#& from the sound of it the person subletting has the same vibes with her#She says he's 'interesting' and 'I'd like him'#From the combination of her description and the clutter I'm getting eccentric professor vibes#Which is generally a good vibe to me#But I am even more skittish of renting from someone t#Too sociable#After prev landlord#Though I want to trust othet tenant's vibe check. Because it might actually be very nice to have some kind of real life friends#It's also a very different kind of sociable than prev landlord#She was 'chatty and gets you to open up easily' sociable & it sounds like the other guy will be approximately the same#& also 'repeatedly assures you can ask her to stop if she's being too much' sociable. Which is always a relief#Meanwhile prev landlord was 'wants to know why you're not relaxed & tells you you should be without doing anything to help you be' sociable#'gets very pushy about finding time to talk/hang out' sociable#'teases you for being awkward' sociable#None of which were the real issue with him of course. But they didn't help & I can't help but see them as red flags in retrospect#I'm currently leaning towards 'to socialise' because it was a very cosy vibe & I do feel starved of irl friendship just a bit#But it could either be very good or very bad#& I don't want to risk very bad again#Anyway. This has been missives from a pizza shop I ducked into to charge my phone before I go back to being lost in a snowstorm
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thelastairsimblr · 2 months
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Family Pack #4
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I’m happy to share some sims with you all today! In this post, you’ll find 12 households (40 sims total), each with their own stories and biographies. All of these sims have additional Everyday outfits, skills, bonus traits, Likes and Dislikes, sexual orientations, pronouns, family dynamics, and Lifestyles. You can find them all on the gallery under my Origin ID: TheLastAirSimmer or in the tray files linked under the cut! As always, feel free to tag me if you end up using them.
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Abreu
A respected food critic, Maria’s opinion is highly valued by all as the towns’ baked good connoisseur. Her husband Joaquin, a renowned pianist, is no exception; he worships the ground she walks on. Together, they project their creative outlooks onto their sons. Santiago, the eldest and a romantic, has the full support of his parents and wants to become a professional wedding photographer. Even though young Rémy feels he didn’t inherit his parents’ imagination, he still wants to make them proud.
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Naval
Aparna owned her own restaurant while raising her two girls alone. Hema was able to help out when she was old enough, allowing Aparna to find success and receive critical acclaim by publishing her own cookbook. Today, Hema is focusing on her engineering studies while trying to find love; she’s very smart and sincere, but a bit naive. Ridhi is chasing a riskier path; she wants to be a famous musician. And while Aparna hopes that this is just a phase, she supports her youngest daughter anyway.
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Monaghan
As young parents, Stefan and Marianne sacrificed a lot. Stefan became a cop to support his family, but still gets caught up trying to relive his youth from time to time. Marianne longs for the day that she can quit her job at the local diner and become a singer. Soren feels pressure to please his parents, but really just want to play videogames all day while Tatum and Aria constantly bicker, not at all concerned with their parents’ feelings or the wellbeing of Hunter, who just wants attention.
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Larson
Quite the jazz singer in his day, Clive is desperate to find ways to stay relevant in the ever-changing music scene. Fiona, longing for the authentic soul who serenaded her years ago, knows she can inspire him again; she’s stood by him through a lot. But until then, you can find the melancholy art critic drinking to yesteryear at the bar. Jade dropped out of college to pursue a career in social media (much to Fiona’s discontent) while Candice is following the artistic path her parents paved.
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Agawa
Ever the class clown, Yuto knew that he had a knack for entertaining people. This was only confirmed after he went viral on Social Bunny for the first time! When he told his parents that he wanted to pursue a life in the public eye, they saw it as further evidence that he couldn’t take anything seriously. He makes a decent living streaming video games and his eccentric personality is pure internet gold. Though to be fair, he should probably be a bit cautious with what he says and does online.
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Hollifield
As a teen, Whitney’s future looked bright. But she forfeited a lot of opportunities to pursue a whirlwind romance with a boy who had a dangerous edge. They were happy for a time, but it didn’t last and the only thing she kept from that relationship was her daughter Emma. She now works a lowly job in fast food while taking classes at Britechester, hoping to find a career in social media. Her days are busier as a working single mom, but Emma keeps herself entertained by befriending her neighbors.
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Catton
Following the loss of her son to avoidable circumstances, Dottie found herself in the care of his two children. Filled with regret for not doing more for her son, the college professor watches the kids like a hawk! She’s keen on using her connections to better their lives. Temperamental Owen does well to make her proud with his grades, but he has an artsy side that he only shares with those closest to him. His little sister Bonnie would rather spend time making friends than studying though.
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Qian
After founding a groundbreaking app, Shirong found a place among the company of the rich and powerful. His charming wife Meifing, quite the schmoozer at elite parties, is constantly looking for funding for her next big venture (while also being the go-to-girl for all the neighborhood gossip). Nuo chose to move home after grad school to save money, but is ready to leave and start her own law firm. Her younger brother Haoyu adds to her restlessness by barraging her with his antics.
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Sullivan
Atticus’ dad Clifford, a retired veteran, supported his sons’ musical dreams fully, having raised him alone after his wife died. While roaming the world, Atticus met Elisa; a fashion guru with a fiery disposition. The pair had three children and Clifford moved in to help with the newborn. Like her dad, Lydia also wants to be an artist (whether if it’s for her love for acting or a desire to be in the spotlight remains to be seen) while Malicia, afraid of being unseen, finds relief in her friends.
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Kingsley-Ramirez
Jaime and Paxton met/moved in together before they could actually get to know each other, both having been new to the city at the time with zero connections. They found themselves compatible not only as roommates, but eventually boyfriends as well! Jaime always puts others before himself; it shows in the passion he has for social justice causes he advocates for. Meanwhile, Pax works a parttime job at a small coffee shop, but is intent on putting himself through school to become a veterinarian.
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Tanaka-Murdock
Nigel and Shannon met at Foxbury and developed feelings for each other during study sessions. Though Nigel was the only one to graduate, he admires Shannon for making the decision that was right for her. He enjoys being the breadwinner while Shannon follows her artistic instincts, though he wishes he had his wife’s free spirit. Shannon is quite hard on herself and works tirelessly until she makes something she’s proud of while their son Kason, while a quick learner, really just wants to play.
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Miyake
Even if he’s never been the most social person, Kenzo is a loyal and fierce friend to those lucky enough to make it into his circle. A patron of the sciences, he cares deeply about precision and perfection. However, when it comes to raising his son Akira, he wants the boy to follow his own path, even if it’s not exactly the one he would choose for himself. Akira seems to be doing just that; far more sociable than his father, he never fails to leave a lasting impression on anyone he meets.
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maggiemoomoo · 1 month
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Matt Sturniolo x Reader
Summary - Dr. Matthew Sturniolo is a world-renowned scientist best known for his experiments that are deranged, grotesque and just downright insane. Due to his contributions that stemmed from his research, he has successfully obtained the title "The Mad Scientist". Y/n L/n became so enamored by Dr. Sturniolo's crazy experiments and his eccentric nature that she worked her way through her connections in the scientific community to become his personal apprentice. Unfortunately, his insatiable appetite for the unnatural and the impossible has reared it's head towards her direction and it seems to want her to satisfy it.
Warnings! - smut, spit, praise, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), doctor/professor/boss kink, dumbification, dirty talking, a little bit of power play?, mentions reader being injected with a needle but is very brief, mentions reader passing out, talks about using a body for experiments however none of that actually takes place!!!, descriptions of strange experiments and decor, I truly don't think y'all have anything to worry about even if you're squeamish but I just thought I would mention it anyway, slight aftercare
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I race across the university campus straining to pull on my pristine white lab coat over my pajamas. It's a few minutes past two in the morning as I make my way to Dr. Sturniolo's laboratory. Along with the amazing opportunities that this job encompasses, it also requires frequent late-night calls to his lab once he makes progress with an experiment.
Although he gets plenty of good press applauding him for his advancements, he also has many people in the world who condemn him for his heinous acts. To most, his experiments that push the boundaries of the world that we know today are disgusting and he should be locked away for just his thoughts alone. Thank God the university donors funnel enough money into the program to keep him going, albeit in a secret lab away from the general public so he can continue to pursue his passion without interference.
I enter the building where his lab is held and begin to descend the stairways into the basement where he is currently holed up. I always find myself having a little pep in my step when he calls me up to come to the lab. Excited to see his newest creation but also to see his gorgeous eyes that had a glint of insanity in them paired with those delectably plump lips and adorable undereye bags that were gifted from the many sleepless nights he spent down there.
I definitely consider myself lucky considering I bagged one of the most unique and exciting jobs on the Earth. Well, lucky for the most part. Thanks to getting top marks in school and already having quite a knack for the weird and unusual parts of science. Always bouncing off the walls at being able to dissect frogs in biology, being first in line to sign up for forensic classes, or even just enjoying the art of making something that was once thought impossible, possible. I'm sure the doctor saw my potential and that I also possess, even if it's just a fraction, some of the craziness that he holds in his pretty head.
The doctor and I have a unique but close relationship, spending a lot of time in closed quarters, hours in the lab theorizing and experimenting, mostly me just following him around like a lost puppy and watching him work his magic. It hasn't gone unnoticed that the breathable tension that flows between us is getting stronger.
The past few weeks have been hugs, slight touches and him leaning over my shoulder breathing in the same air as me while I scribble notes for him. Him giving me pet names that make me subtly clench my thighs and him flashing me dangerous smiles that really make me question if I should cross the boundaries between a boss and his apprentice.
I finally pass the last threshold after scanning my university badge numerous times to get through the security checkpoints. I throw open the door to the lab and am met with an almost pitch-black room except for a slight cobalt blue hue that illuminates the space coming from a large tank that is holding one of his latest experiments that lies toward the center of the lab.
It's freezing cold as per usual but due to my rushing I didn't bother to put on a long sleeve or even pants on. Being donned in a tank top, pajama shorts, fuzzy socks, and my lab shoes, I realize I look incredibly disheveled and utterly ridiculous. I didn't even comb my hair before running over here and honestly, the doctor would be the last person to worry about that.
He almost lives in his lab as he spends all his time here. He has seen me in my best and worst state as I am often called to come to the lab in the late hours of the night when I am asleep or trying to continue to finish my research notes.
Due to the chill, I try rubbing my hands over my covered arms to try and generate some heat from the friction. I don't hear any noise and I don't see the doctor anywhere working.
"Doctor?", I ask slowly walking around the lab and pausing at the tank.
The bright blue liquid contains a single chimp who looks to be in a deep sleep state. He floats around slowly alongside the tiny bubbles that accompany him. The doctor's latest experiment features one of the things that humanity has always wanted to figure out - cloning. He has successfully cloned several species such as rats, bunnies, and even raccoons and we are slowly working our way up getting closer and closer to human cloning.
This has been a top-secret operation that has consumed all of our time and effort and I would be a liar if I were to say that all this time spent together in close proximity hasn't made my attraction for him grow ten-fold. Getting a front-row seat to him working constantly, watching him lick his lips and bite them in concentration, push his luscious hair back when he's stressed, and even his arms and hands that become covered in veins when he's been notetaking a little too long. I am utterly surprised at the amount of self-control I've accumulated from trying to resist throwing him on the lab counter and defacing it completely.
"Sir? I'm here, where'd ya go?", I called out again turning away from the tank. I hear slight rustling and look towards to lining of shelves at the back of the lab. Matt moves around one of shelves holding a small box of empty petri dishes in one hand and in the other is holding a beaker with a strange purple liquid. He's looking at his feet and mumbling to himself inaudibly as he moves closer to me.
"There's my smart girl!", he exclaims when he looks up and sees me. I can't contain the slight blush that crawls on my cheeks and warms my face. This has been the newest nickname he's been fixated on lately and I definitely don't mind it.
He takes a swig from the beaker with the strange liquid and quickly presses a slight kiss on the crown of my head before heading towards one of the lab counters. "I sincerely hope that what you're drinking isn't dangerous to humans?", I quip with a raised eyebrow. "It's just juice I promise", he flashes me a smile and then holds out the beaker for me to inspect it myself. I meet him from across the counter and sniff the top of the beaker which he is still holding up for me. Hm, grape, another fixation of his recently since the local store ran out of apple juice one time a couple weeks ago when I went on a grocery run.
I give him a nod of approval and he sets down the beaker. While he messes with some of the items already set on the counter I take in his appearance. He looks more of the same, red juicy lips from licking and biting them too much, his hair messy and disheveled, and his undereye bags still present. I trail my eyes down his chest and see his grayish button-down is slightly unbuttoned at the top revealing his collarbones that I so desperately want to lick and suck on while he-
"Come here Y/n."
I'm shaken from my thoughts and move around the counter too abruptly and bump into the corner when I approach him. I let out a small hiss and stopped before him when he grabbed my hip with his warm hand under my lab coat and gently rubbed it to help soothe the pain. He pushes the microscope toward me with his other hand, and gestures for me to look through the lens. "This is what I wanted to show you." He says in a hushed voice looking at the side of my face, his hand still rubbing my hip soothingly.
I lean forward and grab a hold of the microscope, I have to adjust the lens slightly to see what is on the slide that is already inserted. When I lean forward some of my hair falls in front of my shoulder and Matt catches it with his hand that's not on my hip and gently pushes it back behind my shoulder with a soft pet to the back of my neck after to hold it in place. All these lingering touches and with how close I am to him right now are greatly breaking down my resolve quickly and I don't know if I can conjure up any self-control this time.
Once I direct my focus away from him and his gentle touches I am astounded by what I can see on the slide. I gasp lightly, "Is that...", I pause my question in shock. "An embryo? Yes it is.", he finishes my question for me. I look away from the scope into his eyes next to me and I feel a broad smile crawl onto my face. He matches my expression and we both just stare into each other's eyes in silence.
"Does this mean we are finally capable of replicating it?", I ask excitedly. He nods his head and my eyes move down to his lips when he licks them slightly. "We're getting closer and closer to the best part, all thanks to you.", he squeezes his hands that are still on my hip and the back of my neck in an affectionate manner. "Anything for you sir.", I whisper leaning closer to him.
"Hmm, anything for me huh?", he stresses as he uses his grip on me to completely close the distance between us and press me against him. I can feel a slight hardness in his pants against my pelvis and I clench my thighs at the feeling. I run my hands up his chest grasping the collar of his dress shirt that is under his own lab coat and I lean my face closer to his while using my grip on him and raising on my tiptoes.
"Yes sir, anything."
He lets out a low growl before he completely consumes my lips in a breathtaking kiss. His hand on my hip slides to my lower back under my tank top caressing the skin there. Using my hips I push even further into his bulge and when he opens his mouth emitting a groan I slide my tongue into his mouth. I can taste the grape juice he was just sipping on and in the moment it feels as if it's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted in my life.
Using the grip he has on my back to push his hips back and forth against me grinding against my lower half while he keeps my head in place with his other hand. He massages my tongue with his passionately which makes me let out whiny moans and a dripping wetness spreads into my panties.
He then turns and pushes me into the counter in front of us while still kissing me. He withdraws his tongue from my mouth and starts to kiss from the side of my lips down to my neck.
Matt is still grinding his hips into me and he starts sucking next to where his fingertips are keeping my head still. I'm moaning into the air now and my hands begin to unbutton his shirt as quickly as I can manage with how little space there is between us. Once I make it to the bottom of his shirt I untuck it completely from his dress pants.
My neck is sore at this point from the love bites he's blessed me with. He moves both of his hands to the bottom of my tank top and yanks it up and over my breasts quickly. He leans back to inspect them, moving his hands to cup each breast and feel the weight in his hands.
I'm gripping his belt tightly and holding his hips against mine keeping them from moving. I'm subconsciously afraid that I'm still in bed dreaming about him instead of being here. Present with the famous Dr. Sturniolo while his hard-on is against me and him admiring my tits in his hands.
His entire focus is drawn to them, my breathing heavy, my ribs contracting and expanding pressing against his hands. Matt's breathing is just as heavy as mine as he gently squeezes and moves his thumbs to softly circle over my areolas. My hands grip his belt tighter as he begins to pinch and twist my nipples while groping my breasts affectionately. My eyes slide closed and my head tips slightly forward at the pleasure I'm feeling.
"Look at me Y/n.", he whispers to me.
I open my eyes, half-lidded, and meet his captivating ones already looking at my own. He slowly leans down while maintaining eye contact and kitten licks my right nipple while giving me a harsh grind at the same time. He goes back to squeezing and grinding against me, sucking, licking and practically making out with my breast. Moving back and forth between them leaving kisses in his path when he moves to each one.
Matt and I were just staring at each other only breaking eye contact to blink. The intenseness of his stare increased my arousal for him and I could physically feel the admiration radiating off of his eyes. We both had a mutual psychic understanding that we both wanted and waited forever for this moment but we were grateful it was finally happening.
While he stained my skin with his kissing and licking I felt inclined to move things faster and quickly started unbuckling his belt. He felt the movement and leaned back, his hands moving slowly up from my chest to cup my neck from the back, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. I didn't remove his belt as I felt a little too turned on to bother with the specifics of getting completely naked. I just unbuttoned and unzipped his dress pants and started to pull them down just enough to palm his dick through his boxers.
He finally broke eye contact by looking down at my hand with a groan, his grip tightening on my neck and pulling my face to his to where our lips were ghosting each other and our noses were touching. "You wanna make me feel good, huh?", he asked me and bucked his dick into my hand. I squeezed him and he hissed against my lips. "Yes, sir I wanna make you proud of me.", he sees my innocent stare and growls sucking my bottom lip into his mouth quickly biting it and releasing it with a pop.
He uses the hold he has on my neck and pushes me to the ground on my knees in front of him. He removes his right hand and pushes his pants and his boxers down enough for his cock to heavily bob into the air. It's so big and beautiful and looks so delectable, my thighs pulse against each other becoming tight against my pussy.
He grips his cock and strokes it slowly, squeezing his tip hard to push a little precum out of his slit. He then rubs his tip against my lips spreading his precum around my mouth and I stick out my tongue to touch his dick and lick up the residue. He tilts my chin up a little to look into my eyes again, "Open up for me sweet girl.", he commands and I immediately part my lips enough for him to slide his dick into my mouth. He moves his right hand to the side of my head holding back some of my hair away from my face.
He pushes his hips back and forth to guide the way that he wants me to suck him. I use my tongue to smooth up and down each side and on the bottom as best as I can to heighten his pleasure, which proves difficult with how thick his cock is. Matt's moaning out loud while he uses my mouth and I feel so much satisfaction knowing that I can make my mentor feel this way. That it's me who is sucking his dick right now and letting him push himself into me.
He slides his hand on the side of my head to the back and grips my hair to pull me and press my head against the side of the table. His hand protected my head from hitting the side. Matt adjusts his position so he's leaning even more over me now, my hands move to his thighs and dig my nails into them. This new angle allows him to plow into my mouth more aggressively, fucking my face. He thrusts faster, groaning even louder and holding onto my hair tighter.
I'm gagging loudly, spit bubbles pouring out of my mouth falling down the sides of my mouth and dripping onto my chest. Trying my hardest to hold onto his thighs for leverage and pull in breaths when I can every time he trusts out. "Such a good girl letting me fuck your throat.", he groans out, I moan in response looking at him with my teary eyes.
"Deep breath baby", he says quickly pulling out to his tip for only a second while I suck in a deep inhale. He then quickly pushes all the way to the hilt my nose smashing against his pubic hair at the base of his pelvis. "Aw fuck yes, so fucking good." He moans out grinding against my lips. Tears have left my eyes and are sliding down my cheeks, my nails dig into his thighs even harder ensuring some deep crescent shapes in them. I'm not able to gag so my chest just contracts and I try to stay still to please him.
He then quickly pulls out all the way a fat dribble of spit leaves my mouth attached to the tip of his cock and falls onto my neck and chest. I let out an aggressive cough and took multiple breaths to catch up. His hold still keeping my head against the table he repeats this action over and over. Pushing in, holding and grinding, praising me, and pulling out to let me breathe. As I'm getting used to the feeling he's pulling out less and less and gradually just fucking my throat against the side of the table.
"Yes, yes, yes baby, so close just hold on f'me." His groans increase in volume along with his thrusting. I'm pushing down the feeling to gag as much as I can to satisfy him and get him to finish. Looking into his eyes I grab my tits, squeezing and pulling at my nipples to give him visuals to help him reach his finish.
He pushes all the way into my throat with the loudest and deepest moan he has expressed and spills his seed. It's impossible for me to swallow so I just close my eyes tight and pray that he'll allow me to breathe soon. He slowly pushes back and forth, his length still pulsing and pushing his cum into the back of my throat while he rides his high.
He pulls out one last time with a deep sigh and admires his work. I'm completely drenched, my eyes still leaking tears that are running down my cheeks, from the bottom of my nose to my chest is covered in a layer of spit making me shiny. He kneels down in front of me, my hands moving to the tops of his thighs and holding myself up on them to keep from toppling over.
"So proud of you baby, did so so good for me.", He sucks my lips into his own and kisses me passionately moving his hands to cup my wet cheeks. He presses kisses from my forehead to my nose to each cheek and then finally back on my lips. "My good girl, my smart, beautiful, and talented apprentice." He pets my hair smoothing it down from his hands pushing and pulling it making it messy.
Matt puts his hand on my lower back to pull me against him and reaches around me to take off my lab shoes pushing them under the table. He then stands up pulling me with him and picks me up fully to set my thighs on the counter. He grips my hips pulling me to the edge and nuzzles his nose against mine. He slides the microscope to the side and out of the way.
His hands grab my shorts and panties and pull them off in one fell swoop and drop them to the floor leaving me in just my tanktop, still sitting above my breasts, socks, and lab coat. Matt is clothed the most between us with only his shirt and pants unbuttoned. His cock still hangs heavily between us and presses against my right thigh.
He reaches between my thighs to touch my pussy which has been soaked since before I even got on my knees. His fingers circle my clit and I grind into his hand to get more friction. "You gonna let me finger this pretty pussy?" He asks with a grin on his face while his fingers speed up their circular motions. I nod my head with a loud "uh-huh" and spread my legs more to give him more room.
I lean all the way back until I'm flush with the table and Matt pushes my left thigh up to my side so he can look at his hand touching my pussy. He trails a single finger down slowly and slides it inside my entrance and I bite my lip at finally getting some inner relief. He guides it in and out slowly to prep me for his cock.
"So dirty letting me use your pretty mouth, you gonna let me use you're body?" He quips as his finger speeds up.
My head is against the table with my eyes squeezed shut and my lip between my teeth in lost pleasure. He takes his hand that's not defiling me and moves up to my face. Matt uses his thumb to pull my lip from between my teeth and press the sides of my cheeks into a slight pout. I open my eyes to find he's already watching me and when I do he slides a second finger beside the one already inside me.
"Answer me, Y/n." He finds that point within me that draws a moan from my lips. "Yes, please I'll let you do whatever you want sir!" I squeal when he roughly pushes into my cunt. I grip his torso, my hands balling up his shirt while I try to grind myself into his hand.
"You'll let me use you, huh? Use your beautiful body for my experiments?" He questions with a grin as I convulse under him.
"Yes! Yes! Use me, sir, god, please!" The pleasure is consuming me rapidly the more his words slip past his lips and into the warm air. "Always so fucking obedient Y/n. Turns me on so much when you obey me." I mewl back at his praises and slip my hands from his chest back to my tits to squish them to amplify my pleasure.
Our eyes are entranced with each other as if a tether keeps us from straying away. When he moans, I moan back in satisfaction. When his fingers curl into that delicious spot within me again, I buck my hips in tandem. We've created a rhythm with each other that's as if it's an erotic dance and I've become mesmerized by him. He's put me in bliss that has me hypnotized through his eyes, words, and fingers alone. I couldn't have been more willing to try to impress the doctor by giving him whatever he desired.
He speeds up even more as his hand moves from my cheeks to my jaw to keep me still in his hand. He leans his torso closer to mine his nose flush with mine making our stare at each other more intense. His cock still rubbing against my thigh aching to replace the spot where his fingers are currently occupied. I can feel the muscles in my abdomen tightening and my eyes are beginning to flutter at the feeling. My legs are locking up trying to push to my climax.
"Relax sweet girl, I got you." He assures me when he notices this and I immediately adhere to his command. Relaxing my muscles allows him to push his hand flush against my cunt constantly putting pressure on the spongy part inside me. Over and over he runs his fingers over that spot and when I finally orgasm, his grip on my jaw never loosens letting him see exactly what my face looks like when I cum.
He brings his lips to mine in a deep kiss, both of us breathing heavily into each other's mouths. I move my hands onto the back of his neck and his shoulder to keep him against me. He takes his soaked fingers and rubs them onto his cock as an extra lubricant, not that he needs any more as his dick is already slick from my mouth.
The kiss is sloppy, messy, and extremely dirty. Months of pining and secret looks just poured in between our lips. My admiration for my boss and his love for his little assistant has broken all boundaries and made itself known.
I feel his dick sliding through my folds hoping for more. He leans away only mere inches and a look of joy and content adorns his face. I smile back and my hands move to his cheeks and stroke them slightly. He hums as his eyes move around my face scanning me and then down towards my body as if he's memorizing how I look when I'm exasperated.
"What?" I ask with a slight giggle, "Nothing just committing you to memory." He makes eye contact with me again. I then hear a slight clink next to my head, not even realizing his hand moved away from me. I try to turn my head but his hand on my jaw is keeping me still and aligned with his face.
He pecks my lips quickly and his hold on me tightens, "Thank you, smart girl, you're so useful." Matt then turns my head to the side quickly and I feel a puncture to the side of my neck. I let out a yelp of pain as a fire spreads through my neck.
"Matt what-" I shout when the thing in my neck is removed and he turns my head back towards him. He shuses me with a finger against my lips when I start whimpering in fear. "You wanted me to use you baby and I will I promise. Just go to sleep you're okay," he says tenderly kissing my face and petting my side.
I'm crying from the spreading pain in my neck and my hands move to his shoulders trying to push him away from me but my hands begin to feel so heavy. My muscles are relaxing too much and my brain feels foggy, too drunk without any alcohol. "Hurts...please-" I'm slurring, my eyes slightly closing.
Matt is still staring sweetly at me, so much love in his eyes, his hand moves from my jaw to my hair stroking it affectionately. "I know it hurts baby, just sleep it's okay. I'm right here love." He kisses my lips again.
I'm trying to fight this feeling of succumbing and try turning my head to the side and seeing a large syringe. Whatever was in it is now inside of me and I'm cursing myself for not noticing before or maybe just not caring. My lust for my mentor overshadowed everything in front of me. Through the haze, I'm still trying to piece my thoughts together of what just happened. I realize that he really did mean what he said when he wanted to use me, just in a different way than what I had assumed.
I flop my head back into his hand that was stroking my hair and whimper more as the unbearable feeling of sleepiness clouds my head. "No.... nu-uh ple" broken words are escaping me and my hands fall onto my chest no longer being able to move them.
"Shh, it's okay Y/n. Soon enough I'll have more than one of you around to satisfy me." His eyes have moved from giving me adoring stares to having a glint of insanity. "You were always the next step my love, I was just waiting until you were ready. You are going to do so well for me I just know it." He praises me in a way that doesn't feel like a compliment.
I guess I just assumed that Matt's experiments wouldn't get to a point where I would fear for my life. That we wouldn't cross the line of ever potentially being a subject in one of his experiments. But I was wrong, I got too comfortable, too clouded and entranced by his prowess and his beauty that I am now paying for it.
The last thing my eyes could make out in front of me was Matt's face, illuminated by the soft blue light of the tank. Excited for the future and what using me and my body could mean for the world. My mind finally makes one with the darkness overwhelming me and I succumb to what my idol and mentor wanted me to be all along.
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A/N - i actually really really really hate this........ i hope you all enjoy reading it maybe my writing will get better lol this seems all over the place to me. also im sorry i disappeared i was silently active on here just liking peoples posts but ill try to post more myself. i know this one was a little fucked up but i started writing it a month ago and i cant start another project unless i finish one all the way through. i have way better ideas that i want to execute for oneshots so i hope that you guys at least develop a little faith in me lol. also don't worry i will be uploading the chris series i started i just am extremely shy and not confident in my work so i posted and then chickened out ig? i dunno but anyway i love this fandom and the tumblr side of it everyone seems to be so nice and supportive and im excited to be more active in it eventually. :3 <3333333333 ᡣ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶𐭩 ♡
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seeingivy · 11 months
Text
befriend your landlord 
roommate eren x f!reader
you and eren reconcile after meeting your eccentric landlord
**find the series masterlist here
content: drinking, certified nut job landlord kenny ackerman, mentions of thanksgiving and fascism, mentions of a little meow meow 
an: I do not subscribe to canon lonely levi he actually just has a very alive mother and a weirdo freak uncle bc I said so. buckle in girlfriends!!! (and boyfriends and all the friends) also this chapter is based on a very real thing that happened to one of my friends in college I just think its funny...also ive evolved from calling this a mini-series cuz I plotted way too much and now cuz we gotta build the trust yk they are VERY MUCH IDIOTS IN LOVE
previous part linked here
“So we can’t drive because…” 
“He likes to drink. Like, an insane amount.” 
“What does that have to do with us?” 
You and Eren were currently swinging your feet on the green bench, the train station bustling in front of you. The two of you were riding into the city to meet with your landlord today. Kenny Ackerman. You were officially being added to the lease. But apparently, it was a bigger ordeal than just signing the papers. 
You’d thought against it originally. Signing a very legal, very binding agreement to live with Eren, to stay with him for the foreseeable future. It didn’t seem like the best idea, given how the two of you were as of late. Awkward, distant, aimless. 
If you had things your way, you would have been moving out, you would have never even been his roommate in the first place. You had even tried apartment hunting again, just to get away from Eren. For good. 
The second you tried, you immediately remembered the reason you had to live with Eren in the first place. The options were hardly to die over. Hole in the wall, bathtub for a bed, your old physics professor.
You were stuck with Eren, whether you liked it or not. And that meant you had to go, convince Kenny Ackerman you were ‘worthy of living in the apartment’ (Eren’s words, not yours), and then sign the lease. 
Eren had been coaching you for a better part of the morning, this conversation being the longest the two of you had talked in the past few weeks. 
Some part of talking to him was becoming easier. The two of you weren’t exactly having the conversations you had before, but it was civil. Nice even. It was the only reason you were able to stomach this entire thing.
“I would never drive you home drunk, Y/N.” 
“I could have driven us home.” 
“Trust me. He can be very convincing.” 
Eren had been coaching you on everything you needed to know about Kenny. Don’t call him Mr. Ackerman, he will hate you. If Kuchel, his sister, is there then make sure that you call her Mrs. Ackerman. Don’t call her Kuchel until she tells you to call her Kuchel. The sooner she says that, the better. Make sure to drink anything he offers you, the pink lemonade smells bad but it’s not too horrible. If his nephew is there, don’t make eye contact unless he makes it with you first. 
He was somehow more nervous introducing you to his landlord (and his landlord’s family??) than introducing you to his own parents. Granted, they kind of put a pin in that entire thing, but he seemed way more at ease then than he did right now. 
You can see the timer on the screen, signaling that the next train would be here in less than a minute. You nudge his shoulder and the two of you jump off the bench, hesitantly linking arms as you push through the crowd in front of you.
The second the doors slide open, everyone pushes forward, very quickly sliding into every available seat on the train. This left you and Eren to share a single pole to hold onto as the train started moving. You secure your knuckles right under his, the two of you standing in silence, less than a foot away from each other. He leans down, his face even closer than it was before and he whispers into your ear. 
“Brace your feet.” 
“I know how to stand on a train, Eren.” 
He doesn’t respond right away and you turn to find him looking down at the ground, avoiding meeting your gaze. You were just kidding. But then again, you did yell at him last week, so how is he supposed to know the difference? 
“Six stops. Then we’ll get off.” 
You nod, bracing your feet against the ground as the train starts moving. The train is stuffy, warm, and way over capacity. You can smell the girl standing directly next to you’s perfume, the prune smell so strong it was making your head spin. But worse than the smell was the heat, the congregation of people making the air congested, your hair sticking to the back of your neck from the sweat. 
The two of you are pressed against each other, standing awkwardly. In silence. You did that a lot lately. This thing between the two of you was…delicate. You’re not sure what it is but the usual comfort, ease that you and Eren had was all but eliminated, left with this quietness. If you made a joke, it was lost to him entirely. If he said something that caught you off guard, you usually avoided responding by leaving the room. You had shouted at him and he made fun of you, so that didn’t leave much room for comfort. 
The train quickly lurches, slowing down all of a sudden. You quickly lose your footing, stumbling in the air as the train stops completely. Before you can fall, Eren secures his hand against your waist, stabilizing you in the air as the train comes to a full stop. You watch a few people get off the train and switch with those getting on, your breath still shaky from losing your balance. 
You feel him lean down, his head directly next to yours as he whispers in your ear, again. His hand is still secured around your waist, holding you steady. Even though the train wasn’t moving. 
“So when I said brace your feet, I basically meant-” 
“Shut up, Eren.” 
“We should get a leash for the ride back. Lock you up real nice so you won’t move.” 
“Perfect! We can use after too, when I have to drag your drunk ass home.” 
The two of you are laughing, readjusting yourself against the pole as the train starts again. His hands are still holding you steady and you can feel your cheeks flushing pink. From the heat. Obviously. 
There’s always moments like this - ones where it feels like nothing’s changed at all. You try not to think too hard about them. They’ve always gotten you in trouble. 
He tightens his grip on your waist every time the train lurches and stops, for all five of the stops. You avoid the pounding in your chest, which only stops when you both hop off the train at the end of the line. 
As you wait for Eren to pay for the return tickets, you spot a tiny black kitten, just at the end of the sidewalk. You immediately run down, nuzzling the tiny little cat as you pet it. As you breathe in the air, you immediately sneeze twice, your eyes watery from the sensation. You immediately hear the sound of a camera clicking, to find Eren standing over you, his phone in hand. 
“What was that for?” 
“Two kitties!”
“Ew.” 
He holds his hand out, pulling you up as the two of you walk down the block to Kenny’s apartment. Your hands are at your side, lightly brushing against Eren’s every time he leans over, making room for the other people on the sidewalk. The sun is setting on top of the buildings, the air slightly chilled. The two of you stop, standing directly on Kenny’s porch. He glances over, giving you one last look. 
“Why are you so nervous, Eren?” 
“He can be really weird. And he’s going to grill you. Just- we have to bear with him to keep the rent the way it is and live together so, just don’t blow it, okay?” 
“I really appreciate your vote of confidence, Eren. Your faith in me is rejuvenating” 
“That’s- shut up, you know that’s not what I meant.” 
The two of you give each other a smile, as Eren turns to the side and knocks on the door. 
“Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?” you whisper. 
“His doorbell is La Cucaracha.” he responds. 
The door swings open and you’re greeted with three faces staring down at you - identical sets of jet black hair and gray eyes glistening in the lamplight of the street. At the sight of you, their faces all visibly droop, as they all welcome you in. 
“He looks too young for you, Levi. And he brought a pretty girl.” 
“Those are the tenants, Mom. Not Erwin.” 
The two of them shuffle down the hall, pushing past into the room. 
“Kenny Ackerman. You must be Eren’s new roommate.” 
“Yes, that’s me. It’s so nice to meet you.” 
You hold your hand out, him nearly jostling your entire body as he shakes your hand. He idles down the hallway to where the other two had gone, leaving you and Eren in the walkway. You whisper to Eren as the two of you hang your coats on the rack. 
“They hate me already.” 
“That’s not true. Kuchel called you pretty.” 
You roll your eyes, the two of you awkwardly shuffling into the living room, where the three of them were sitting across from you. It’s only then that you can get a better look at them and realize that you know one of them. Levi. Your old physics professor. The one who you cried to about not having a roommate that took pity on you and let you sleep in his house. 
“Hi Professor Levi. It’s been a while.” 
“I see you’ve found a roommate. I can’t believe you found a place to live in one week.” 
“I thought you said the two of you had been living together for a few months, Eren.” 
“We have, Kenny.”
“Ah, right. I was just looking around at other apartments for the past week just to see if anything popped up on the market. And they didn’t. So I’m here.” 
Eren ducks his head down, the expression on his face dark. He whispers into your ear as the three of them start chattering, still discussing Erwin. 
“What? You want to move out?” 
“No, no. I was just looking. It must be awkward for you to live with a girl who isn’t your girlfriend, you know?” 
He leans over, his eyes teetering between annoyed and irritated. 
“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.” 
The doorbell rings, throwing you and Eren out of the conversation you were having. You watch the three of them jump up and rush to the door, fixing their hair and their clothes as they make it to the door. You and Eren stand up, peeking your heads down the hallway as you watch the three of them greet Erwin. Your old political science professor. 
First Levi now Erwin too? You can feel your cheeks burning from embarrassment, remembering that you had actually cried to the two of them twice - the first time to Levi when you were jumping houses and he agreed to let you stay with them and a second time when Erwin offered you an extra pillow before you went to sleep. 
“Hello. I’m Erwin Smith.” 
“Eren Yeager. This is my roommate, Y/N.” 
“Ah, Y/N. How are you? You figured out your living situation fast!” 
You don’t miss Eren glaring daggers at you out of the corner of your eye as you give Levi and Erwin an awkward smile, shaking your sweaty palms against their hands.
“Okay kid. You and Kuchel should go fix the dinner with Erwin in the kitchen. I have to talk to these two here.”  
Why are you and Eren here the first time Levi’s family is meeting his long term boyfriend? 
You look over to Eren whose irritation has very quickly been replaced with nervousness. Kenny is staring the two of you down, the two of you squished together on his very tiny couch. 
“So. You go to Shiganshina?” 
You feel your voice tangle in your throat, suddenly intimidated by Kenny staring you down. You can hear Eren’s voice echoing in your head, his angry look seared in your mind, your voice not coming out. He’s going to grill you. Don’t blow it. 
“Yes. She’s an Applied Kinesiology major. She’s very smart.” 
You look over, silently thanking the gods that Eren answered for you. 
“Can you pay rent?” 
“She has been, for the past two months.” 
He nods, leaning over the table as he stares you down. 
“I’ll give you a situation. Respond accordingly.” 
You nod, clenching your hands into little fists against the couch. 
“You just got off of work. You’re really tired but you have to stop by the store to get groceries. You’ve purchased them all. What do you do after?” 
You look over at Eren, giving him a weary stare. What the fuck kind of question is that? Is there even a right answer to this? 
“Well, I would leave the store. And take my cart, if I had one, to my car. I’d probably put my stuff away, return the cart, and then just drive home, put everything in the fridge and the cabinets.” 
He nods, taking in your answer as he leans back in his chair. “Do you like Eren?” 
“What?” 
“As a roommate.” 
“Oh. Right. Yeah, he’s great.” 
“Why did you start rooming with him?” 
You can’t lie. It seems wrong to tell him that your old roommates chose not to room with you for the next year - he was sure to not think you were a good fit if you said that. But if he found out you were lying, it would be even worse. 
“Well you see, she-”
“I asked her, Eren.” 
You feel him move his knee, pressing his against yours as his fingers curl around your hand. You feel him squeeze your hand twice, his green eyes warm as he looks at you. Right. You can do this. 
“I used to live with a few of my friends last year. I didn’t really know, but they had picked other arrangements without telling me, so I was left without a roommate for around a week. Eren was nice enough to offer me the empty spot in his room so I didn’t have to jump around from my friends' places every night.” 
He stares the two of you down. You’re rubbing circles into the back of Eren’s hand, the two of you holding your breaths as you wait for his response. 
“Sucks. Kids are bitches.” 
You both squeeze, trying your best not to smile. 
“Yeah.” 
“If you kids start dating, you can't be loud at night. You’ll piss off the neighbors. You can sign the lease after dinner. You passed.” 
He gets up off the couch, his distinct smoke smell leaving the room with him. You turn to Eren, the two of you smiling at each other as you lift your hands to high five. Eren holds your hand in the air, shaking your hand excitedly. 
“You passed, kitty.” 
“Where are we right now? Do you smell that? How does it smell like smoke and laundry at the same time? And what the fuck kind of question was that? I thought I was going to vomit. ” 
“Weird guy. Nice rent rates, though.”
“And Levi. He’s my physics professor. I literally had a crush on him. And his boyfriend, he was my political science professor too. I even stayed over at their house once. This is about to be super weird.” 
“Why did you stay at their house?” 
“I didn’t have a place to stay! This was before you offered, when I was jumping houses.”
“Were they loud at night?” 
“Ew. Don’t put that thought in my head. I’m going to vomit.” 
“Save it for later.” 
“As if. I can hold my drink. Trust me.” 
 - 
You and Eren are seated directly across from Levi and Erwin at the dinner table, Kuchel and Kenny taking the heads of the tables at the ends. A large part of this feels like you and Eren are intruding on a very special moment, but you ignore that and dig into the food. 
Right. For some reason, Kenny picked Thanksgiving food for the menu. In the middle of September. Like full on turkey dinner, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce. 
“So, do you like Thanksgiving, Kenny?” 
“I hate fascism, Y/N. No, I do not like Thanksgiving.” 
You look over at Eren, trying your best to contain your laughter, as Kenny goes on, rambling about something you’re not quite sure about. Everything Eren said was slowly starting to fall into place - you really can’t turn down drinks from the guy. He’d already made you try three different drinks he made and you had only been here for an hour. And the pink lemonade was actually disgusting, Eren’s just a liar. 
Kuchel turns to the two of you, flashing you both a big smile.
“Say Eren. You never told us you got a pretty girlfriend.” 
You and Eren both choke on your food, clearing your throats. 
“Ah. I’m not Eren’s girlfriend. We just live together. Friends.” 
“Uh huh. Right. What a shame. You two are so sweet together. Sharing your sweet little smiles, playing footsie under the table.” 
You immediately drag your foot off of Eren’s under the table, embarrassed that she had caught that. Every time Levi rolled his eyes, Eren tapped your foot to get your attention, the two of you trying not to laugh. It’s not your fault that rolling his eyes is basically like blinking to Levi. 
“Ma. Leave them alone, yeah? They’re just kids, they don’t know what they feel.” 
“I have to agree with Lee’ here, Mrs. Ackerman. Surely, they just haven’t reached that stage yet.” 
“You call Levi Lee’, Erwin? That’s so sweet. Oh you two are just perfect and I-” 
The four of you five of you watch Kuchel burst into tears, taking turns pressing kisses to everyone's cheeks at the table. You and Eren included. When she sits down, Eren leans over, whispering in your ear. 
“She’s like Annie on hour five of being drunk.” 
“More like hour one.” 
You both laugh, silently eating your food as you watch them interact with each other again. Some parts of it feel like a reality tv show. Kenny’s is downright ridiculous - he’s been hurling out whatever comes to his mind. He told Eren that he seemed like the type to commit genocide in another life and then told Erwin that he would be a corrupt military man. 
Kuchel is sweet. Almost two sweet. She spent a large majority of the night crying, telling baby stories about Levi when he was a kid. You don’t miss the way Levi’s ears turn red when she confesses that Levi used to be scared of the toilet when he was younger. 
Best of all are Levi and Erwin. You don’t miss the glances between them - the silent communication they had going on at the table. It’s like the rest of you weren’t even here. That’s where you think Eren got the idea, the tapping on the feet. A signal that you were going to talk laugh about it later. 
Eight drinks in and Kenny is blasting music, doing a solo interpretive dance to Etta James. You and Levi are in one corner with Kuchel, Erwin, and Eren in the other. 
“I can’t believe this guy is your uncle. Did you ever do a DNA test?” 
“Hundreds.”
You turn your neck to find Levi, staring across Erwin on the other side of the room. You follow his gaze, watching Kuchel pinch Eren’s cheeks and Erwin laugh at the two of them. 
“What’s your deal?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“With Eren. You like him right?” 
You look down into your cup, the opaque liquid staring back at you. Erwin had made you a fruity drink, to which Kenny responded “everything about this guy is fruity!” 
“Yeah.” 
“He doesn’t like you back?” 
“No.” 
“I didn’t like Erwin at first. He was too much - pretentious, arrogant, irrational at times.” 
“But?” 
“But, he was my best friend. At some point, all the love and admiration I had for him just became something more. Like, yeah, he was my favorite person to be around but then I wanted to be around him all the time. Tell him the good things, the bad things. Share something with him, anything, everything. I…I didn’t hate myself when I was with him.” 
You smile, squeezing Levi’s shoulder in your hands. 
“That’s sweet, Levi. I’m happy for you.” 
He gives you a small smile, turning his neck back to look at them across the hall. 
“Be his friend. Maybe he’ll come around.” 
 - 
Six drinks in and Eren is feeling buzzed. He was trying his best to pace himself, make sure he was sane enough to take you home at the end of the night. He could tell by the glazed look in your eyes that you were getting there, close to being fully plastered. 
He turns his neck, scanning for you around the room. You kept disappearing. But there you were, directly across from him, leaning against the wall from Levi. He meets your eyes and you give him a soft smile, accompanied with a tiny wave. His heart’s pounding. 
“Do you like her, Eren? Oh please say that you do.” 
Kuchel is squeezing his shoulders, her eyes lighting up in excitement. 
“Yeah. Maybe a little bit.” 
“Oh, oh, oh. You have to tell her. Don’t let her get away now!” 
“Ah, I tried. She doesn’t like me.” 
He watches her face droop, Erwin shaking his head in the air. Both of their cheeks are flushed pink, the cups they were holding shaking in their hands. Surely the only people who were at least somewhat sober were you and Eren, which was saying a lot. 
“You know, Eren. I knew Levi was the one the moment I saw him.” 
“Really?” 
“I liked him so much, I wanted him around. In whatever sense that means. Even if he only wanted to be my friend.” 
“He didn’t want to be with you?”
“Oh no, he loathed me. Like full of hatred.” 
“And that didn’t…bother you?” 
“Maybe a little bit, but we became friends after that. And I just wanted him around. Whatever way he would have me. Even just being his friend, getting to see him everyday, that was enough for me.” 
Eren cranes his neck back over, where Kenny has his arms slung around you and Levi. He’s forcing the two of you to sign with him - Levi looking downright murderous while you flash Kenny a polite smile. 
“Just be her friend, Eren. Maybe she’ll come around like Levi did.” 
 - 
You can’t hold your drink. Obviously. But Eren knew that already. He had been watching you for a better part of the last hour, your inhibitions absent. Erwin had made you yet another fruit themed drink, which you were all too happy to down. The second he saw the glass hit your hand, he’d focused all of his best efforts in trying to sober up, calm the thrill running through his blood. 
You had made your way back over to him after some time, the two of you on the couch. You were leaning your head against his shoulder, your breaths heavy and uneven. At the sight of Kenny - who was now singing with Kuchel on the table - you suddenly perk up, your hands pressed against his shoulders as you lean over him. 
“Eren.” 
“Hm, peaches?” 
“I have a plan.” you whisper, your eyes somewhere between delirious and devious. 
“Uh huh. What’s that?” 
“You and I should sign the lease now. Then mail the letters. That way, we can leave and Kenny can’t get mad because we basically did him a favor. We’ll just tell Levi in case he asks.” you whisper, a smile spreading across your face. 
You’re drunk out of your mind. Not that Eren himself isn’t drunk either, he can certainly feel the buzz he was trying to will away living, but he’s not as gone as you. 
“Genius idea.” 
“I know right!” 
He was being sarcastic, but you had already jumped off the couch, to where Levi and Erwin were standing in the corner. He quickly follows, catching up to balance you as you stumble over to where the two of them were standing. 
“So. Levi. Right, hi Levi.” 
He’s mentally debating if he should stop you. You are very plastered and could potentially say something embarrassing. But there’s something so funny, so endearing about the determined little look on your face that he decides against it, letting you go on. 
“You’re a man.” 
He watches the confusion spread across Levi’s already strained face, his eyes flitting between you and Eren. 
“And you, Erwin, are a man too. You two are men.” 
“That’s correct, Y/N. You’re very perceptive.” 
Eren tries his best to conceal his laughter, as you go on, talking to the two of them. You’re definitely worse than Annie. 
“Marriage. It’s a thing, you know? And a man can do it. And a woman can too. And you are a man and he is a man and you can both do that. And we want to come to that. Like go to there.” 
How did you get from talking about the lease to marriage?
“Eren. What is she going on about?” 
“We’re going to sign the lease papers and mail them on our way out so we can leave. We have to be up early tomorrow and she literally cannot drink more. We were going to ask if you could let Kenny know tomorrow and tell him to be easy on us.” 
“You drive here?” 
“No. Train. We’ll be fine to get back, Levi. I got her.” 
He nods. Eren doesn’t miss the look Erwin and Levi give each other as the two of you lock hands, tip-toeing into Kenny’s office. Of course Erwin told him. 
The two of you quickly rush out, laughing as you run down the block before any of them notice. You slow down as you pass the corner, the two of you strolling the rest of the way down the block back to the train station. He can tell you’re winding down by the way you’re leaning against him, skipping steps. 
The train car is empty, this being the last train leaving the station. He settles the two of you into the seats at the front, getting in first. 
“Ren. Can I have the window?” 
He nods, wordlessly changing seats with you. This seat’s better anyways. You look out the window. And he can look at you. 
You lean over, your eyes drooping as you lean over. He’s not sure what it is, maybe Kenny’s rancid tequila is still running through his bloodstream, but he locks his hand with yours, pressing his fingers against the scar in between your knuckles. 
“I…miss you, Y/N. Being your friend.” 
He watches your expression drop, your eyes fluttering fully open. 
“You don’t think we’re friends?” 
“No! I mean, yes. I just didn’t realize you thought we were still friends. After everything that happened, the fight we had I just kind of- I don’t know.” 
You’re quiet for some time and he can see the gears moving in your head. Your eyes are now pinched shut, your forehead scrunched in concentration. Maybe this was the right time to say this. Hopefully, you don’t even remember tomorrow. 
“Are we in second grade, Ren? Do you really not think we’re friends?” 
Of course. The words he said to you, the day you were sick. 
“We are still friends. I just meant, it was different for the past few days. But today, this was…nice. I enjoyed it.” 
You smile in response, the two of you leaning your heads against the back of the seats, the only sound being the whirring of the train behind you. 
“Y/N. You wouldn’t really move out, would you?” 
“I was hoping you forgot about that. It’s my fault. I kind of…get in my head sometimes, I don’t know.”
“About?”  
“I thought you didn’t want me around. So I didn’t want to be around you. I thought you hated me or something.” 
“Y/N. Look at me.” 
His eyes are dark, the same way as when Levi mentioned you were looking for another roommate. 
“I could never hate you.” 
“I know, I just meant-” 
“No. You clearly don’t know.” 
You turn over to find an irritated look plastered on his face, his jaw clenched shut. You press your fingers against his shoulder, squeezing twice to get his attention. He flutters his eyes open, leaning down to look at you. 
“You’re special to me. I don’t understand what I did that made you think I would ever make fun of you or hate you. You...piss me off when you say stuff like-” 
He’s cut off by you placing your hand on his cheek, your eyes peering into his. 
“Sorry, Ren.’ 
“S’okay. I know why you do it. But just remember, I’m not your stupid old roommates or your lame ex-boyfriend or anyone who ever made you feel that way. You and I are-” 
“Friends.” 
Not what he quite had in mind, but he’ll take it.
“Yeah. You can tell me anything.” 
“Okay. You too.” 
He sees you smile, your eyes wafting shut against his shoulders. He can feel the pit in his stomach burning, the exact same way it did every time you did something. When you smiled at him, fixed his hair, got him coffee. God, he still loves you. 
“So Ren. Do you want to hang out after recess?” 
“Shut up. You’re so corny, kitty.” 
“Ew.” 
The next morning, Eren makes you breakfast and you sing in the shower. Progress. 
next part linked here
taglist: @maliakealoha @smolone88 @mykyoon @squirrelspoetry @roronoazorosbxtchh @fell-4-u @erensleftnutt @thelazylemur @mg63k @filunara @mblrrr @spidersinmybutthole @lezsie @erensmoodygf @maesthebestmonth @nanamiswife22 @lalalucidity @lapin0u @cullenswife @leafguitar @saiyasworld @rebeccawinters @mrs-sullys-blog @red-moon-dream @icansmellsouls @luvinclouds @katestrophes @amourely @6sakusa @miralbdo @k0z3me @celiniverse @txminie-blog @erenspersonalwh0re @s0f14sbs @violetmatcha @sweetenertea @wheredidmycrowngo @serendippindots @intimacywithceline @alonemoth @l0v31yw0r1d @meowmeowmau @miasthoughtsdotcom 
reply under this post or any of the one’s linked above to be added to the tag list! <3 
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honeymoonblues · 7 months
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If only you asked...
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Remus Lupin x Professor!Reader
Summary: Remus is deciding wheter or not to ask you out, and you're having a bad day. (Gender neutral reader)
Word count: 1.3k
A/N: A little continuation to my other Remus fic 'Crash!' can also be read as a stand-alone. Let me know if there are any spelling errors, English is not my first language.
A few months had passed since you became a professor at Hogwarts.
At first, it had been hard to get the students truly engaged with the subject. Of course you understood that history could get boring, but slowly and with a lot of effort, the kids were inspired by your own enthusiasm. You were eccentric enough to catch their attention for the whole hour, and stern enough to make sure they were actually learning.
Now, the relationship with your coworkers was an easier task. You got along with them just fine, having quickly learned about each of their personalities and being mindful of their own little quirks.
You knew well to treat Severus with respect, to call Minerva by her first name, to never interrupt Sprout while she was teaching and to be open minded to whatever Trelawney had to say, even when she spoke the most peculiar of facts.
Surely, there was also Remus. Whom, no matter how many odd quirks, could never get on your nerves. Even with his strange way of acting every once month, you thought he must have his reasons. Your bond was warm, a friendship disguised under pure professionalism (or so you thought).
You see, it was always:
“Oh, professor Lupin, you must come with me to Hogsmeade this weekend!”
And Remus would never turn down an offer from you. He would say:
“That’s very convenient, you see, I was just thinking that I need to go to the quill shop.”
 It turned cartoon-ish after a while. You’d invite him to the village, he’d suddenly remember that he also has to go the village, so it would be foolish to refuse, and you’d both smile brightly to each other. Now, Remus was quickly running out of stores he ‘needed’ to go to, and your invitations were so regular that they didn’t seem ‘just friendly’ anymore.
The truth is, you were fooling no one. Except maybe yourselves.
If anyone should ask about your relationship, you were kind to answer:
“Of course professor Lupin and I are friendly, we’re coworkers!”
And Remus didn’t hesitate to respond:
“Yes, I’d say we’re good acquaintances, why do you ask?”
In the staff room, Severus would raise his eyebrows every time, which is the most expressive you’ve seen him. Then Flitwick would sip on his tea, and Dumbledore would grin. Nevertheless, the professors were still indifferent to whatever-might-be-going-on with you two, Merlin knows they don’t need anything else to get involved with.
The students, however, do love a little love story. They would throw each other glances every time you stepped in Remus’ classroom, whisper excitedly when they caught you two talking animatedly, and roll their eyes whenever you’d invite him to Hogsmeade.
It was painfully clear! You both fancied each other, why couldn’t you just date, and get over it! The truth is, you were both phenomenal cowards. The ‘what ifs’ were clouding your minds. Also was it even allowed for professors to date? (No one cared!) But since the pair of you decided it would be best to ignore these feelings and not talk about it, the months just kept on stretching out and neither dared to make a move that wasn’t inside the usual routine of Hogsmeade’s strictly-professional-and-maybe-a-little-friendly strolls.
Remus’ heart raced just by thinking of asking you out for once. He smiled to himself, looked at a fixed point in his office, and ignored the papers he was supposed to be grading for a moment. He was thinking of you. Your humour, then your laugh, then your smile, then your blushing cheeks, then your twinkling eyes.
‘I’m absolutely done for.’ He thought, snapping out of his mind.
There was someone at his door.
“Minerva, please come in.”
Behind her glasses, McGonagall had a sharp glint in her eyes, and her mouth showed a faint smirk. She had come all the way to Remus’ office to discuss the little outing he was planning for the fourth years’ class. And she did just that, but in the back of her mind there was something else. She decided it was time to help her former student a bit, after all, she’d always had a soft spot for Remus.
“Winter holidays are getting closer.” She remarked, as she was getting up.
“A much needed break for everyone, isn’t it?”
“Of course...” She nodded with her usual poise. “Any plans for this winter, Remus?”
“Oh, Minerva, whatever could I have planned for winter? You know me...” He chuckled, shrugging and pointing to his office with his hands. Accompanying her to the door, he said. “I’m quite the dull man, after all.”
“I was just asking, since I’ve been seeing you out in Hogsmeade every weekend, I thought you could have...” She smiled, and Remus stuttered a bit before Minerva spoke again, softly but surely. “If you asked them, Remus, they would say yes, you know...”
Then she left, still grinning when she closed the door behind her. Remus stood there, lips tightly closed and feeling like he was caught red-handed. He sat down, then stood up again, and finally decided to sit down again. He also shook with laughter for a while as if he was insane, but kept quiet for a long time after that.
“I’m fucked.” He concluded out loud.
You loved the atmosphere that winter had brought to Hogwarts. The holidays were just around the corner and the kids seemed excited, ready for a break just as much as the professors were.
The students got more distracted this time of the year, but no one could really blame them. At the same time, exams were the last obstacle between them and the enchanting, needed rest. But it was surely a lot of work. You had so many papers and tests to grade that you started to wonder if it would be possible to have two history teachers instead of just one. Two whole stressful weeks where you didn’t even go out on weekends, and your free time was basically nonexistent. Merlin, you were almost out of your mind.
Hugging yourself in your heavy winter coat, and sipping on your hot tea, you made your way to your classroom. You were late because you’d accidentally slept in, after staying up late trying to decipher some bizarre students’ essays. But no matter how late, you were not about to miss breakfast or you’d surely pass out in the middle of the class, so you went down to the kitchens, asked politely for a cup and took off as fast as you could.
The thing is, today was not your day at all. But it could get worse, and it did! 5 minutes before the end of your first class, you tripped slightly, as you tend to do, but your worn out boots simply decided it was enough, and the heel on one of them broke. You just stared at your mutilated shoe for a moment, standing in a weird uneven stance, uncharacteristically quiet. You sighed, looked at the attentive students and dismissed the class for the day.
There were 35 minutes before the next class started, ‘enough time to cry a little’, you thought. But you shook your head, and sat down at your desk, examining your shoe.
“Certainly broken boot will not bring me down.” You spoke to yourself.
“I don’t see how it could.” Said a soft voice.
You snapped your head forward, and watched Remus entering your classroom, a shy smile on his face.
“Is this a bad time?” He asked, unusually bashful.
“No, no! I was just...” You held the boot for him to see. “Trying to fix this...”
He chuckled at the poor state of your shoes and got closer to take a look.
“I really should go to Hogsmeade, and see if someone can patch them up for me.” You mumbled, quite discouraged at your own chances of reapairing it. “Would you like to accompany me, professor?” The question was soft, hopeful, and it got a smile out of both of you.
“That’s very convenient, you see, I was just about to ask you on a date."
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youryurigoddess · 6 days
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The Small Back Room — Hour of Glory (1949)
Good Omens 2 begins with the visit to The Small Back Room not because it was meant to serve as an exposition scene for Maggie and her record shop. It’s a substantial foreshadowing of the main plot and the relationship changes between Aziraphale and Crowley.
As all the other classics referenced throughout the show, this 1949 Powell and Pressburger production is easily available online — whenever you have 100 minutes to spare, I highly encourage you to watch it.
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Our story begins with the arrival of Stuart, a British military captain, who makes his way through a labyrinth of offices towards a small building — the research section led by an eccentric, queer-coded, bow tie wearing professor Mair — to ask for help with a secret Nazi weapon.
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That’s when the professor calls our hero, Sammy Rice — an engineer and bomb disposal expert in the service of Her Majesty’s government and, not accidentally, the most brooding, wounded man in Powell and Pressburger’s impressive canon of dysfunctional and alienated characters.
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Due to a prosthetic foot keeping him from active service and confining to work in the titular back room instead, Rice is dramatically slipping into alcoholism. Haunted by self-loathing and disappointment with the internal politics, he can’t see the point of his research anymore.
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Sammy is also conducting a clandestine affair with the secretary of his research unit, Susan. They live in the same building and meet regularly, but can’t openly enjoy their company or even dance due to his injury, which makes him even more bitter and pathologically determined to wear her angelic patience down.
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Susan puts up with it until the minister is forced to resign. She knows that if non-scientists take over, their section will become useless, Rice even more difficult, and the war possibly lost. She urges him to take action and when he dramatically refuses to make a difference, she leaves him.
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Seemingly at his lowest now, Rice becomes a sudden chance to redeem himself. Captain Stuart calls him about two unexploded booby traps found in Wales, but left to himself, he dies during a heroic attempt to dismantle one of the thermos-like devices before our engineer arrives at the scene.
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In a nerve-jangling finale, Stuart’s notes help Rice dismantle the second device. He becomes a hero, gets an officer commission as head of the new scientific unit, and discovers that Susan not only came back in the meantime, but repaired everything he drunkenly destroyed in the apartment after their breakup.
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The parallels seem straightforward enough for me to add that in this context the role of Maggie through most of S2 may particularly reflect Crowley’s stagnancy in both work and love life. And if you’re unsure why the demon identifies with the heroic roles and characters, you might want to read this post on the subject.
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Now, The Small Back Room was distributed in the US under another title — Hour of Glory. Which happens to be a specific Bible term referring to Christ’s “hour”, the period supposed to consummate all of his work on Earth and reveal God’s ultimate plan of salvation: the Son’s death.
John 12:20-36 Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me. Now my soul is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and will glorify it again.” The crowd that was there and heard it said it had thundered; others said an angel had spoken to him. Jesus said, “This voice was for your benefit, not mine. Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”
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Christ’s hour began in the garden — this time the garden of Gethsemane — as he prayed passionately for the cup to be passed from him, similarly to Aziraphale declining Metatron’s offers on screen, both regarding the hot drink and his reinstatement as part of the Heavenly Host:
Luke 22:42 “Father, if you are willing, please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”
All throughout the Old Testament, we see God’s wrath being described as a cup poured out on sin and those guilty of it. By accepting it, Jesus took the toll of all the sins — from Eden up until the last one to be committed right before his Second Coming — on himself, for the sake of his beloved humanity.
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The passion of Christ continued as Judas betrayed him with a kiss, his disciples abandoned him, and the high priest accused him of crimes he was not guilty of. Even Pilate, the prefect of Rome, pretended to uphold the law; and remember we already expect a S3 trial based on another Archers movie.
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All in all, it’s an hour of great injustice and pain, but also glory of God. We’re led to believe that the Ineffable Plan will similarly triumph over the great one (or whatever Metatron tries to implement at the moment), as it did in S1. And its ending will be a good one, back in a garden.
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headcanonsandmore · 2 months
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Thasmin Fanfic Recommendations, a master post
Hi all! A fandom is at its healthiest when we share things, so I thought it'd be a good idea to share a list of all my favourite Thasmin (Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan) fanfics that I've read over the past few years. I'd highly recommend all of these. And, if you have any to add, please reblog with the links!
I Think You Might Like Me by Holie47. The Doctor asks Yaz to try and help her figure out what's going on and ends up coming to a realisation. Rated G for General Audiences. Cute Thasmin first kiss.
In This World Of Strangers I Belong To Someone by timetravelbypen. Autumn, 1904, London. Yasmin Khan is newly arrived in the city, eager to start the law degree she's spent so much time working towards. Determined to prove her worth to sceptical classmates and professors, she throws herself into her work. But a chance encounter with eccentric clockmaker Johanna Smith - and a mystery surrounding a progressive pamphlet written by someone called the Doctor - might just remind her she's worth more than her doubters could ever imagine. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Edwardian!AU with human!Thirteenth Doctor. One of the best Thasmin fics I’ve ever read (if not THE best!). There’s also a series of short sequels which you can find here.
to know how it ends and still begin to sing it again (as if it might turn out this time) by  Eriadu (@eriadu-in-the-wildwood) and timetravelbypen (@timetravelbypen). They’ve been here before. The Doctor always sidestepping, always avoiding; Yaz always following, always hoping. But in a museum simulation of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, confronted by an all-too familiar tragedy, the cracks begin to show. If they’re going to get out alive, something has to change. They’ve been here before… this time, can they make it through? Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Thasmin fic, set inbetween ‘Legend Of The Sea Devils’ and ‘The Power Of The Doctor’; some really interesting and in-depth characterisation for both Yaz and the Thirteenth Doctor, with some awesome sci-fi elements too.
Flying Lessons by timetravelbypen. A series of vignettes set between Ryan and Graham's departure in Revolution of the Daleks and the end of The Power of the Doctor. In which Yaz learns to fly the TARDIS, and learns just how capable - and how loved - she is in the process. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Just a word of warning, to quote the author; “there is a reference to an attempted suicide/self-harm in line with its depiction in Can You Hear Me as Yaz and the Doctor encounter someone else in a similar situation and Yaz deals with some flashbacks. If you would prefer not to read that, you can skip Lesson Five: Controlled Fall.”.
falling down the stairs (of your love) by timetravelbypen. The gravitational pull Yaz has over the Doctor is unavoidable, inescapable. The Doctor is falling for Yaz... and the Doctor is also falling. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Thasmin sweetness set after ‘Legend Of The Sea Devils’. Fluffy with a bit of angst; very sweet.
Two Idiots In A Box by timetravelbypen. Dan realizes quickly that, if left to their own devices, Yaz and the Doctor are never going to just talk to each other like functional adults. So he and the TARDIS hatch a plan. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. So funny and so sweet!
In fact, just read anything by timetravelbypen; they’re an amazing writer and understand these characters and Doctor Who so well! Their Tumblr blog is here; @timetravelbypen; send them some love!
Miniature #13 - The World Will Wait For Us by vaelerius. Yaz and the Doctor go on a totally-not-an-actual-D.A.T.E in Sheffield to Yaz's favourite restaurant. What could possibly go wrong? Rated G for General Audiences. Easily one of the funniest Thasmin fics out there; this is a good one to read when you want cheering-up.
You Have A Wife??? By LonelySpaceAce. Yaz asks the Doctor about something that she's been wondering about since they fought the Sea Devils. Rated G for General Audiences. This is written by one of my awesome Tumblr friends, so please check it out.
You Have Kids??? by LonelySpaceAce. Yaz learns that not all the Doctor's companions have been in love with them A sort of sequel to "you have a wife???”. Rated G for General Audiences. It also scratches my particular itch for having Thasmin with a side helping of Tegan/Nyssa.
(Un)familiar by EvvieJo. Yaz is trying to settle into her post-Doctor, UNIT life. Rated G for General Audiences. Less of a Thasmin fic per-say as opposed to a bit of closure for Yaz after leaving the Doctor, although it does have a lot of Thasmin elements to it.
The year of the cat by zurau. post-lotsd. thirteen disappears, again. a cat appears. it's some consolation. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Funny fic about a mysterious cat that appears whilst the Thirteen Doctor has disappeared; you can probably guess where this is going…
Candy Floss And A Carousel by 13beautifulghostmonument. Team TARDIS make a festive stop over in Cardiff. Yaz and the Doctor finally admit to their feelings. Rated G for General Audiences. Very cute and sweet.
Courage & Stupidity by seaunicorn. Yaz was his best friend and, much like the Doctor, Dan would do anything for her. Four years marooned in the past can forge quite the friendship, and he would go to great lengths to protect her from anything, or anyone, that hurt her. Including the Doctor herself. After Dan learns what happened on the beach, he confronts the Doctor. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Set after ‘Legend Of The Sea Devils’ and with some excellent character work.
giving up and giving in by seaunicorn. It takes Yaz almost dying for the Doctor to actually confront her feelings. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Really sweet fluff and first kiss stuff.
All The Time In The World by Metal_Gear_Steve. Yasmin has developed feelings for the Doctor, but she isn't sure how to bring this up with anyone. Ryan and Graham have settled after their first few crazy adventures, so it's not like she can rely on the "adrenaline and whimsy" excuse to explain her standoffish behavior forever - sooner or later, she has to bite the bullet and confess her feelings to the Doctor. But there's so much that she doesn't know about the Doctor, and any number of factors could get in the way of a potential relationship. Will Yasmin's confession be successful? Is there room in The Doctor's heart for a new love after a multitude of relationships, most ending in disaster? Will Graham get to try that alien ice cream again, with what's-its-name seeds in it? I guess we'll find out - we've got All the Time in the World. Rated G for General Audiences. Some really wonderful fluff; super sweet.
Our Moment on the Beach by docwhovians. When Yaz and the Doctor find themselves held prisoner a hostile pirate ship, there's not a whole lot they can do except talk. Feelings that have been brewing come to a head. When the moment is interrupted by an order to walk the plank, things get interesting. Rated G for General Audiences. Really cute fluff with some pirate stuff.
A Home For The Holidays by mag_lex. In which Yaz and the Doctor visit Yaz’s family for Christmas after the events of the Flux, and Najia decides to intervene when she realises something is going on between them… Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Sweet domestic fluff and a little bit of angst thrown in (since it is related to series 13 of the modern series).
i will always hold you close but i will learn to let you go by jodieoswald. Yaz listens to Dan's advice, and takes the leap, hoping that the Doctor will listen. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Angst with some fluff and a happy ending. Very sweet and tender.
The One With The Hen Do by isabrella. Yaz takes the Doctor to a friend's hen party to cheer her up. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Angst with a happy ending; very tender. 
Confessions by SimpleSapphic. Set directly after Eve of the Daleks (and directly after thasmin becoming canon may I add akshakdhsksh), Dan does what Dan does best: he plays wingman to get those two to *finally* confess their feelings and actually do something about it. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. A fair bit of angst but with some really sweet fluff at the end. Gotta love wingman Dan!
The Lodger by bells_n_roses. The Doctor moves in with Yaz to investigate the mysterious upstairs lodger. As they spend more time together, however, feelings start to build. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Very cute and sweet, but with some mild angst mixed in.
I Still Burn For You by timelostdoctor. Yazmin Khan and the Doctor's relationship has been over for ten months. Ten months in which they haven't seen or spoken to each other. With Sonya and Ryan getting married, they are both part of the wedding party. How can they find happiness for their friends when they both wish it was their wedding instead. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Oooh, mate; this is one of the tenderest Thasmin fics I’ve ever read (complete with a human!Thirteenth Doctor); sweet with just the right mix of angst, and a good bit of humour as well! Always worth a read when you want something to get lost it (and, yes, I hope that Mandip Gill has read this one since she asked for fanfic recs).
Love is a lottery, and I’m betting on you by riptheh. The Doctor knows how it is with the female companions. Lived it dozens of times before. And this time, she's determined to make sure it doesn't happen. Or, five times the Doctor was so busy making sure Yasmin Khan didn't fall in love with her, she failed to realize that the opposite was happening. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Tons of fluff, mistaken-for-a-couple, bed sharing, this fic has it all!
February by softestbutch. The Doctor stepped a little closer, still partially obscured from view, still animated in the quiet orange glow. ‘Oh, it’s a little silly,’ she said. Yaz raised an eyebrow for her to continue. ‘I can go,’ she said, and Yaz breathed an endeared laugh.‘What is it, Doctor?’ she asked. A pause. ‘It’s snowing,’ the Doctor said. In short: the doctor is incredibly excited about the snow, and yaz is incredibly in love with her. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. A cute fluffy fic about Yaz and the Thirteenth Doctor having fun on a snowy day.
Live inside my mind forever by timelxrd. Yaz fell asleep precisely ten minutes and thirty-two seconds ago. The Doctor knows, because it’s been ten minutes and thirty seconds since she’d had to consciously regulate her breathing and the rise and fall of her chest against Yaz’s soft cheek so not to jostle her. Rated G for General Audiences. Cute fluff about cuddling and hair-plaiting.
A trusted place to rest by multifanwho. After she manages a prison break, the Doctor finds herself exhausted with her feet carrying her to the one place on Earth she feels most safe. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Fluff with a side ordering of angst.
Cuppa? by softly-penned-valkyrie (softly_speaking_valkyrie). The Doctor's slipping and she knows it. Everything's getting too much for the first time in thousands of years and she's finally having trouble coping with it mentally. How often does that happen? Following a double adventure involving the Judoon, incredible revelations and alien birds, it all becomes too much to handle, and when the TARDIS itself nudges at Yaz to go help the Doctor alone, it becomes a little too much for the copper too. But when the Doctor lands in Yaz's kitchen desperate for help, how can she refuse the woman she loves.... Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Fluff, hurt/comfort and some mild angst.
not-so-fake-feelings (and their very real consequences) by ActuallyMe. Yaz needs someone to pretend to be her partner whilst some really annoying family friends are in town. Turns out, the Thirteenth Doctor is happy to play along… Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Fake dating scenario, with some hilarious fluff.
astronomy in reverse (it was me who was discovered) by transboytwelve. Fake dating, bed-sharing, camping fic; Thirteen has to pretend to be Yaz’s partner for a family get-together. Hijinks and definitely-not-just-platonic confusion ensues. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences.
Around The Rink by sheregenerated. The Doctor and Yaz get a bit competitive, Graham has some cocoa, and Ryan rides a reindeer (sort of). Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Cute fluffy goodness.
The Changing of the Seasons by rubyofkukundu. The Doctor gets her first period. Thankfully, Yaz is on hand to help. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Fluff with a bit of hurt/comfort and humour.
Hooked on all these feelings by Moonlightkitten (orphan_account). In which Thirteen wants a set of earrings to match Yasmin's and won't take no for an answer. The only problem? She doesn't have pierced ears. Yet. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Very sweet and very funny. The person who wrote this has since orphaned their account.
Erlebnisse by Val_Creative. The Doctor surprises a very ill Yasmin with a visit. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Very cute and sweet.
I Met Her On The Beach by C1ashi1dr. While Graham and Ryan are taking a break from traveling, the Doctor and Yaz head for a relaxing day on the beach. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Some really lovely fluffy goodness.
Trick or Treat by HalfBakedPoet. What do the court of King Louis XIV, a futuristic pumpkin-based religion, a secret pumpkin carving society, and a two-person horse costume have in common? The Doctor and Yaz celebrate Halloween in a variety of ways. Apple bobbing ensues. Leads up to (presumably, hopefully) the beginning of Flux. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Some fun Halloween fluff.
Hope you all enjoy these fics; I know I certainly did! Remember, if you enjoy a fic, please leave a comment; authors love it when we recieve comments and it inspires us to create more!
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irulaan · 1 year
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THE ONE | SIRIUS BLACK
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— I persist and resist the temptation to ask you if one thing had been different. Would everything be different today?
nav | masterlist
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✧ PAIRING. sirius black x fem!reader
✧ WORD COUNT. 3.6k
✧ WARNINGS. angst. cheating. inspired by my own last breakup. mm slightly proofread and all over the place, expect mistakes, sorry! chronology? who’s that? very ooc sirius
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The Christmas dinner that year had a gloomy aura. And everyone pointed the finger at your miserable frown and lost eyes, and of course the big sign above your head with bold crimson letters, ‘heartbroken’. Most of them cataloged you as selfish and whiny; why bring your long face to such sweet festivitie? As if you wanted to have those judging eyes all over you, as if you wanted to be there.
You’ll have a few spoonfuls of whatever that doesn’t trigger your desires for throwing up. Maybe you’ll still do, since your emotions are tied up in knots in your stomach.
Poor of them if they dare to ask you how it all started…
Steadying your breathing, you tried to locate your friend without success. She isn't there, because if she’s not early, then she’s not attending. Resigned and a bit anxious, you decided to take a seat. Alone.
The professor just walked in. “Page number 58” Was all she said.
A ragged breathing and faint footsteps caught your attention and your eyes followed the sound to found one of the most eccentric sixth graders. The blond one, well blond, you weren’t sure—his hair resembled the warmest sand. And he was always hurt, a few scars marring his soft skin. You didn’t like to stare. But you had seen him before, of course, he was in that group—the marauders, as they’d named themselves.
He sat beside you. Trying to tame his breathing, he wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. His darkish hazel eyes found yours, by his expression you knew he didn’t recognize you. It’s okay, so you smiled, and he did his best to try to imitate you. Maybe he wasn’t very used to smiling at strangers? But there was something else. His constant movements and his wandering eyes were screaming something that wasn’t your business to translate.
But there you were, concerned, once more, by a stranger who didn’t even knew who you were.
“Are you alright?” You whispered to him, and he turned his face towards yours, what it felt like a whiplash. He had piercing eyes and an expression shouting “lunatic”. But he ends up nodding.
It’s weak. And you’ll curse yourself until your death for scavenging into your pocket for a piece of chocolate. “On bad days I like to have one of these. Not much but they’re delicious” You offered to him, and he was clearly confused. How could you mind if you knew he was a troubled soul? “It’s yours” It’s the confirmation he needs to accept it, after all, he just cataloged you as nice, bit weird tho.
This time his faint grin matched his eyes. It isn’t uncomfortable to watch. “Thanks”
He looks hesitant to eat it, but ends up devouring the small theat. It was his favorite flavor. He isn’t searching for new friends but in that second, even if it sounds pathetic, he thinks you’ll be a good friend.
The boy clears his throat, startling you, so you shoot him a look. He’s fine, and he mutters, “Oh, uhm,” He’s looking at your possessions scattered around your open book, searching for a name. And you don’t have a problem understanding what he meant.
With a smile, you say your name.Then you pointed at the forgotten aluminum wrapper tossed on the table, near his own open book. “It’s good, right?”
He finds himself surprised. He felt caught and he doesn’t even know why. “Oh, yeah, it’s perfect, it's not about this… I was wondering, ubm” He’s not usually this awkward, he’d built a confident façade over the years. This was just the full moon’s residue. “Do you have… Can you lend me your last week’s homework? … Please?”
You nodded, almost too excited. Not a lot of people asked for your homework. It’s dumb to feel proud. It’s stupid to feel great because you’re being needed by a stranger that probably is about to forget your name.
“Oh, yeah, of course, you’re lucky she didn’t give us much…”
It's okay to regret that pivotal moment when you saw someone crumbling before your eyes, despite your good intentions. You couldn’t despise Remus, he just opened a door but you shouldn’t have entered into his world. Introducing you to the raven-haired boy was his doing but it was your fault to fall for his empty words and ghostly promises and with it, you destroyed everything.
His laugh makes your heart flutter, but you won’t admit it, not now. “Do you have something to do this weekend?” He inquiries, looking down at you with his bright grey eyes and a playful grin.
You held his stare, as you enjoyed searching for undiscovered eye’s details or marks across his face.
“Oh, no, not really…” There’s a beat of silence. Sirius is about to open his mouth, but you formulate a quick question to rescue you from the second hand embarrassment. “What about you? And the boys?”
He frowns, it’s subtle, but still noticeable. “I don’t know about the boys… not really” There's another awkward pause, which seems to drag on and yet is over too quickly. This is far easier for him, you should’ve known. “I was wondering that, because I think it would be great if we go out… to Hogsmeade, together?”
Oh, there are birds chirping in your heart so loud you could hear them. “Yeah, absolutely” You tried to not smile too big, too enthusiastically. It’s pointless, you don’t really want to hide what’s happening inside you, but you’re afraid too.
Now you know you shouldn’t have to accept it, you shouldn’t have jumped into his sticky, harmful webs.
That day you gave him your best smile, your best content eyes. Your softest tone. “We’re going to have a really great time!”
In the present day, and far away from that memory, you understood why your friends hated him so much, even if at the start he hadn’t technically done anything wrong. They knew. Maybe you knew too, but choose blindness.
You thought you'd never understand how things changed so fast, the thing is they didn’t. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable how everything was much more vivid and tender than everything before he asked you to be his girlfriend under the beating sun of august. Everything after felt like a weird, gloomy dream.
“I’m sorry I didn’t think you’ll care that much” He had the cheek to shrug.
Your face softened, no longer holding a frown. Angry melted into disappointment. “Of course I care…” Your voice is delicate and he felt like the worst human on earth.
“Don’t make that face,”
Swallowing a knot in your throat, you gather the strength to speak your mind. Fighting how afraid you’re to mess up the relationship. “Siri, it’s just—You know I, we see each other almost everyday and I don’t—I can’t understand why.” You paused to take a breath, to stabilize yourself, to not go to dark places of your mind. It’s inevitable. “It makes me think you don’t wanna go out with me…”
He desperately shakes his head, like he thinks he can change your mind. “Of course I do! You make me laugh, you’re intelligent plus you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” Outside, you rolled your eyes. Inside, even knowing it was the most common and ordinary line ever, you feel your heart warming. But your face still had that pout. Those glossy eyes. That dark grey cloud above you, ready to wet your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just have a lot going on right now, You know, with the boys, and other stuff”
And you act like you forgive him. Because you’re good, because you love him, because you’re worried you’re doing everything wrong. “It’s okay,” I’m getting used to it already, you don’t say. There’s thoughts sharp as daggers threatening to cut your poor heart. You had to get away. “I think I’m going I—“
“—How about we go out next week? I don’t think I have something to do” Your heart beat again with anticipation. And you’ll hate him for every word he has ever said to you.
“Sure, but promise me you’ll remember…”
“Of course I’m going to remember. I’ll make it up to you... you’ll see” He promises, once again. And you have no option to believe him. Because he says he loves you. Because maybe you’re being unfair; he has a lot going on in his mind, and you had to be fine being the last of his priorities. “I love you, and I’m really sorry”
He loves you, and you love him. “Love you too,” You suppose love it’s enough.
At some point everything went downhill. He can’t even remember why he was so vexed by you. You couldn’t go to this place with him because you had plans with your friends? Fine, until he started to feel insecure, until the mind that their parents created could see the sun.
You were tired of canceling any plan just for him to forget almost every single time. So you don’t actually realize when you stopped doing it. It seemed natural, like you left behind the sweet feeling of being excited to find out where you were going, what you’ll be doing… all of that replaced by an icy and somewhat uncomfortable feeling of waiting for something that won’t be coming to you. A kind of longing you despised, but couldn’t shake off your mind.
And the first time you realize, was all Sirius fault.
“Don’t look at me like that, Siri, I’m trying to understand you,”
It hurts you seeing him so distressed about something you did, or say. His breath quivers and you could see his fingers are shaking from the anger he felt. And in your mind it was your fault.
“What's so hard to understand?” He whispers, then, he looks at you. Meeting your confused expression hiding your desires to cry underneath. “Fuck, are you stupid?”
You gasp. There must be something else stressing him to this point. It couldn’t be just you, could it be? “Siri…” It’s soft and inviting but he can’t return from his state. “I’ll cancel, okay? And we’re going wherever you want, uhm?”
He shakes his head. His raven waves are disheveled by the many times he had passed his fingers through it. He wanted to come back, but there’s something stopping him. “No, I can’t keep telling you everything you need to do—let me finish!” You opened your mouth again, to say something. To try to get the pieces together, to fix it. But he wasn’t that kind of person. He needed space to think—you had guessed some time ago, because he doesn’t acknowledge it. “Go have your fun, I’ll have my own”
He disappeared, out of your reach. And forever.
He felt guilty, and he wondered if it would ever stop. He was out of his mind, thinking you’ve done the worst to him. Even at some point, his wasted mind told him you were both done. He had seen you angry—or maybe afraid? He doesn’t even remember, but he hadn’t seen that expression on your sweet face before. He swore he would recall, but he never did.
Deep down he knew he had screwed up a long time ago, and a long time ago he stopped caring. After all you’ll feed your heart full with his excuses, empty promises and words he can’t believe he said so lightly.
He took you for granted.
Now he hates you. For not being there, for not standing your ground and trying to change things… and trying to make him a space where he doesn’t deserve to be.
Your heart was falling off your sleeve when you saw him at the table. He was alone. While the others are still sleeping upstairs. The italian summer breeze won’t be enough to soothe your tormented mind, it won’t heal your wounded heart. You didn’t even want to remember why you’re doing this — weren’t you enough?
It was hard to believe you were still there. After everything you knew, you’d still given him a chance. Every step towards his form was touring your crushed heart. “Can we talk?”
He smiles, leaving behind everything he was supposed to do. You don’t miss how his eyes try to avoid yours. “Oh, darling, I’m going somewhere, maybe later?”
At his futile attempt to leave, you became desperate. “No, I can’t wait. I need to talk to you right now.” He caught how your hand is trembling, while trying to reach for him. But it’s late, and the guilt has started to eat his rotting mind. He can’t say it to you. And maybe you wanted to talk about something else—how could you know? “I won’t insist again, please”
He’s being reckless and carelessness, but he doesn’t have the courage to ignore your plea. So he stays glued to the chair. “Fine but it has to be quick”
“Don’t you have something to tell me?” Your voice is breaking under the pressure of what you know. And it’s impossible for you to look into his eyes and confront him. But he shakes his head. And you see everything falling down. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. “I just have one thing to say, but I was just thinking…”
He takes all of his strength to smile. And it’s a pathetic excuse. “Nope, not really. I love you, that’s all”
You frown. Feeling your tears raining down, wetting your cheeks. “But it means nothing now,” He screws his eyes close. Drowning in guilt. In despair because he doesn’t know if you’re going to forgive him. “I know what you did, Sirius”
An horrified expression hardens his features. And he stands up, to embrace you. “I—I can explain it, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”
In your misery, you accept it. Because it’s his arms. Because he smells familiar, like safety. You had to indulge in it, before losing everything. And it’s not too late when you realize he’s none of that. And had to rip yourself away from him. Your big heartbroken eyes stared straight into his soul. “You weren’t even going to tell me…” Your lower lip twitching, under your faint voice.
His heart shrinks, and he doesn’t know what to do. “I was waiting—“
“—You’re always waiting, it seems” You cut him off, suddenly annoyed by his pathetic cries and words. It almost seems like he doesn’t care at all. Then, why’re you there? Your voice can’t help but keep breaking. “I don’t care about your explanation… your acts have been screaming you wanted this to end. But I assume you’ve been waiting,”
His glossy eyes found yours again to deny your sayings. “That’s not true, please, how could I ever want to break up with you?”
There’s a soft humorless laugh slipping through your mouth. “But you did. Or were you thinking fool me would forgive you for this?” And there’s a bittersweet after taste in your mouth. And he’s shocked, because you never had tried to hurt him with words. In fact, he only was hurt by the collateral damage of things he did or said. “I don’t deserve this, Sirius”.
He falls to his knees, knowing you won’t take him back. “I’m deeply sorry, I swear I can make it up for you,” But you both knew he can’t, even if he was given the chance, he’ll just keep hurting you.
His head hangs low, and there’s some satisfaction in the back of your mind. Knowing he was hurting—or at least he’s good at pretending—even if you’re going through the same.
Suppressing a sob, your voice is a foggy punishment, “We’re done” It’s all you say, leaving him there. And everything after is a blur. No one asked, no one tried to stop you. You didn’t travel alone back home. No, one of the girls decided you couldn’t be left alone. You weren’t expecting anything, they were Sirius’ friends after all.
And Christmas passed by, and other festivities, birthdays, and parties. And you were a ghost. Only your closest friends saw you, as you kept yourself away from Sirius’ circle, not even wanting to hear his name in conversations. But time keeps passing by. Time wasn’t waiting for any of you.
You thought you’d gathered some strength by the time Remus’ birthday came around. It wasn’t foolish to think you could bear seeing Sirius, probably with a pretty another one wrapped around his finger—holding hands and dancing heart to heart to the torturous beat of your favorite song, by his favorite muggle band.
The bricks are cold and rough against your bare, tender back. You light a cigarette, trying to calm your nerves of not seeing him accompanied.
His smell, how his feet struck lightly the pavement gave it away in an instant. This wasn’t supposed to happen, this was—he’s supposed to be a stranger, someone you’ll be meeting again under different eyes.
He stopped and stayed glued to that spot. Near the wall. Only sighs came out of his mouth for what you felt was an eternity. You know he’s dying to speak, but he’s no fool, he knows he has only one opportunity, before you come back inside, running away from him.
He’s helpless if he thinks he still has time. “I’m sorry,” His voice wavered. He never learned how to approach hurt animals, especially if he was the perpetuator of their bubbling anxiety and misery.
You look at him, and you can only be sorry for your buried relationship, for what his hunger for self sabotage and poor emotion control has done. You don’t care if you’re unfair, he deserves all the credit for burning everything to ashes.
A humorless grin adorned your face, “It’s okay, Sirius, you don’t have to do this”
But it’s not okay. It never was.
He closes his eyes, “I regret every single day what I did at that party,”
And you sigh, “I know, I regret that too”. But it wasn’t all, you wish ti add.
And Sirius has to stare at you with his silver eyes, there’s no grin on his lips. He had to know you’re being honest. That you’re not a stranger.
He takes a deep breath, encouraging himself to ask for forgiveness, to explain everything he couldn’t back then. “I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t have let my thoughts taint what we had” Sirius takes a pause. You had a worried expression on your face — you don’t want to go through this, to awake your resentment for him. “I want you to know I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I want to tell you that I care, I tried to send you letters and all”
You nodded, you knew, even if he didn’t say it. Entering into Sirius’ mind wasn’t easy. He had to let you in order to get to know the real one behind every mischievous grin, teasing eyes and flirty words. It was just a slip. That, you understood.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t read them. I despised you, and then you stopped sending them”.
Now it’s his turn to understand your doings. “Yeah, I didn’t want to push yourself more” There’s a silence loud enough to push Sirius to an edge and he wasn’t prepared to jump, he doesn’t feel he has the right. But he opens his mouth, “Do you think we…?” And his eyes are shining silver, under the dim yellow lights.
“Siri…”, You whispered, feeling almost sorry for him. He knew it was bad news. “I know you regret it because you broke us, and I hated it, because it doesn’t let me come back to you” His breath wavers and his heart shatters to sharp pieces. “We should stay as friends, as I still care about you”.
He closes his eyes, as a flow of undesired anger sends shivers down his spine. “I can’t be your friend, I’m in love with you!” He lifts his arms, trying to reach for you. He can’t. He knows you’re already so far away. Have been for a while. “I can’t bear having you so near yet so far away. Like life is mocking me!”
Waiting for him to finish, you watched how his hand carded through his thick, raven curls.
“Sirius, I thought so too. I thought I would be forever and always in love with you—I was head over heels, but not anymore.” You paused, “What I'm trying to say, it’s that everything will pass. Time would work things up, and then we’d just remember the good times, and we won't turn these gatherings into our personal hell”.
He shocks his head in disbelief. As if he has a right to deny your feelings—to deny you’ve moved on. “You don’t love me anymore?” In his eyes there’s a plea, and you don’t have what he wants. Lips disappearing into a thin line, you lightly shook your head. “When did you realize?”
“Sirius, I don’t think—“
“—Please,”
He just wants to bury the idea you’ll ever be together again. “When I saw you earlier… and I didn't feel my heart would explode. Didn’t hear the birds chirping…” You pause to smile, and it’s warm, nostalgic. “When I saw you earlier and realized you couldn’t hurt me anymore”.
Your voice fainting at the end of the phrase was everything he swore he wouldn’t do to you. “Shit, I really screwed everything”
When his red rimmed eyes connected with your own, a pang of pain spread through your stomach. You longed to reach for him, embrace his body, shield his mind from anything that could harm him. But he was the one responsible. So you stop yourself.
“Hey, maybe I was distracting you from meeting the love of your life,” He smiles. And you finally feel relieved.
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leggerefiore · 20 days
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cw: drabble, a little venty, loneliness as the theme
pairing: Volo/Reader
Loneliness was a bitter feeling.
There simply was no denying that.
Its very grip was icy and brutal on an already stressed mind. The words it whispered in one's mind could not be understated. A feeling that was haunting and solely exacerbated by seeing those around you so happily put together within their own groups.
Hisui was a lonely place.
Widely uninhabited by humans and filled to the brim with things that would seek to end one's life, the groups there were quite close-knit and quite callous towards outsiders. Someone unknown and foreign to the lands of familiarity would be given a scornful look and blamed solely for any unfortunate happenings, whether it was even possible for them to cause such a thing to occur.
You had wanted to believe that you had made friends. Your captain could be harsh, but there was a strange softness that you swore she held. The professor was kinder than most, having originally taken the most pity on your situation. Perhaps it was his position as another outsider coming through to aid one similar, though. The teenaged survey corps member had certainly taken something like an amicable feeling towards you, clearly happy to have more help in their unit. But, in the end, when you were kicked out. There was no one that could have saved you. The commander's orders were final.
No empty encouragement from your thought to be friends could save you from the offerings of the wilderness. The clans would reject you, too, unable to risk their standings with the Galaxy Team. You felt impossibly alone. The cold temperatures of Hisui ate at your body as a frigid feeling settled into your limbs. Your eyes closed. It felt hopeless. Where could you go? What could you do? The sun was slowly being consumed by the unsettling horizon.
You pressed your knees to your chest as your eyes burned. Why? Why were you blamed for this? Because you fell from a portal? Why not blame that eccentric Warden in the Highlands, too, then? You tried to wipe away the tears that poured endlessly. It was as pointless as your attempts to earn a good standing within the Galaxy Team. Why had... Whatever that being was that brought you here? To suffer? A hiccup left you. Everyone looked at you as if you were a monster. Another sob wretched your throat. Why? It was all you could think of. This situation felt insurmountable.
A hand unexpectedly began to rub your back. You tensed and turned your head around to see who it was. The odd merchant stared down at you with a solemn expression. You felt worse knowing that someone was seeing you in such a horrid state. Trying to curl more into yourself, you hated that you had even been pushed into such a mindset. Volo sat down beside you with a sigh. Something seemed to be running through his mind when you dared sneak a peek at him.
He closed his eyes for a moment. “… People are truly cruel, aren't they?” His voice was a departure from its usual volume and cadence, “I heard the news already. A good merchant knows well the importance of staying abreast all the latest news.” You felt like shrivelling up more inside. It was spreading around that you were the cause of the situation with the sky. How long until the whole of Hisui blamed you and saw you as a threat? Surely then, even those with whom you found friendships would shove you away. Your reaction drew something out in Volo. Something distant in his mind. His hand came to rest on your back.
Grey eyes stared out onto the water below. “My…” the blond sighed, “Nothing hurts quite like this, does it? Being rejected by those around you for something completely out of your control—being seen as a threat or strange for simply existing as you are.” You shifted to look at him properly again at his words. Blinking, you considered them carefully. Was Volo... familiar with your situation? He seemed far too amicable to ever find him in something like you were in.
“… You are not alone,” his hand came to cup your cheek, “I can assure you that much.” His thumb wiped away a few stray tears as you met his gaze. Something in it felt so different from the usual gaze they drew. “… Why must we experience these painful and heartbreaking things? It is unfair, isn't it?” Volo seemed to truly understand your thoughts at that moment, “… But worry not. There are still corners of the Hisui region where we can stash you away in secret. I know a spot that will be the perfect hideaway. Leave it all up to me!”
His hand moved to grasp your hand instead. You squeezed it softly. There were callouses on the skin, yet its warmth was more than comforting. Your cheek radiated with that same heat. More was spreading, however. You followed along as he began to lead you through the region with expert knowledge.
However, he did say one last thing, before you two departed.
“… Would it not be nice to create a new, better world without all this pain?”
You almost felt inclined to agree.
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third-arch · 4 months
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My Trafalgar Law HC’s!! pt.8🤍🤍
ft. Reader-ya!! + Harry Potter HC’s
Law can roll his R’s. He will flirt with Reader-ya doing this.
For Halloween, Law will dress up as a wolf and Reader-ya will be Little Red Riding Hood. (Reader-ya convinced him to do it !!)
Law really likes buying things for Reader-ya. He’ll remember her saying something like “I really want that, but I’m so broke waaa (;-;” and without knowing, he’ll buy it for her.
Law likes reading with and watching movies with Reader-ya. He likes cuddling with her under the blanket and smooching her.
He’s okay with PDA, but he only reciprocates. So, if she kisses him, he’ll kiss back. The only thing he’ll initiate is squeezing her hand to communicate.
Law will always hug and kiss her compassionately. He’ll also kiss her wrapped injuries after he’s done treating her or after a mission. If something requires bandages, he’ll always make a small bow for her as a small way of saying “I love you”.
Harry Potter HC’s!!
I think Law would be Ravenclaw and Reader-ya would be Hufflepuff.
I think Reader-ya would get bullied or hurt by someone (most likely Doflamingo) at Hogwarts and go to the infirmary room for routine checkups where Law works as a student.
Law would scold Reader-ya and listen to her and Reader-ya would open up to him. They'd talk and spend a good hour or so everyday after the first two or three meetings.
After a while, Reader-ya would stop showing up bc she's gotten better and Law gets really sad. But it's funny bc if she does show up then he'll be mad bc she's hurt LOL. He’s a total tsundere.
They discover that they take a lot of plant classes together and that Reader-ya also takes animal classes. Law would interact with her and they'd do homework together. They’d train together. Law would be stronger than Reader-ya, but she trains a lot more. It causes conflict at times.
Reader-ya would forget her homework and Law would just look away as he's handing her his notebook like “Don’t let it happen again, silly-ya”. And she smiles really big and Law turns around to catch it and just is in love with her.
It would look something like this:
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They're already pretty vulnerable and open with each other at that point, and Law becomes unintentionally more compassionate and tsundere with students in the infirmary.
Regardless, he’ll be much more thorough and helpful when treating them, and be much more gentle because of Reader-ya.
Law gets teased too for hanging out and crushing over Reader-ya, because she's very eccentric and very much a lone wolf.
He waits for Reader-ya and wants her to show up. Sometimes, she’ll pass in the hall and his heart will skip a beat from the infirmary room. If she waves at him and smiles, Law’s internal CPU will crash LOL. I also forgot but Law would like watching her conjure animals.
I think she’d have a ferret, an owl, or a dog. Law would have one of those, too, but not the same one. He hates the fact that they're in different classes and so they pass notes alot too and find quiet places to hang out. They skip class together once to go into the woods and I think that'll be their flower crown chapter.
I think Law will start to realize she likes him when he catches her looking at him during lunch from another table. He also starts seeing her blush a lot more and uses it as an excuse to check her fever and look at her and touch her forehead.
She’ll also do alot more conjurations around him and draw things for him. She’ll write little things in his notebooks and during class he’ll let her draw in them. He’ll start pecking her cheeks at times and Reader-ya starts hugging him a lot more.
Law and Reader-ya get detention when they're caught sleeping together in the halls or in a quiet area they usually go to (not anything sexual, just like literally cuddling sleeping.)
Still, I like to think this could be possible but maybe the professors just let it slide when Law and Reader-ya get flirty because they realize what she endured or something and also just realize that they’re both smart, mature and healthy. They don’t have any concerns.
Before that, During xmas (I can’t remember if this is canon or not) but Reader-ya won’t have anywhere to go for the holidays, so Law will do one of two things:
1. He’ll stay behind and keep her company.
2. He’ll invite her to his place for the holidays.
On Christmas, Law kisses Reader-ya under the mistletoe and confesses his love to her. They become a very loving and strong couple!!🤍🤍🤍
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ghcstao3 · 7 months
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(scrapped) hogwarts professor!ghost x zoologist!soap very very old draft but :3 also peep ghost with glasses
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Ghost’s social life has never been anything spectacular to begin with, but when he somehow manages to become the newest potions professor at Hogwarts, he finds it to be entirely lacking.
The balance he requires among work alone is enough to keep him busy nearly every waking hour of his days, and adding his personal life to his list of things-to-do, Ghost would surely end up with prematurely greying hair. 
(And who is he kidding—he’s already just about reached that point.)
So, it is safe to say that Ghost doesn’t get out much. It’s an unfortunate truth for his first couple of years teaching, but honestly, it isn’t much of a bother. Ghost is mostly happy, if a little stressed, and he’s more than lucky to be in his current position—that’s what he thinks, and that’s all that matters. Work gives him purpose.
At least, it’s all that matters until the universe decides it has other plans and introduces Ghost to a mildly bizarre man by the name of Soap.
Soap (real name currently unbeknownst to Ghost) approaches the professor while he shops for ingredients for a personal potions project. Soap is broad, attractive, and looks like he lives off one too many Invigoration Draughts a day. He greets Ghost with a manic smile in an attempt to act friendly, though the gesture isn’t at all helped by a body otherwise buzzing with energy. Everything about the man screams eccentricity, but then again—Ghost is a wizard. He’s always been bound to meet… interesting people.
“How much might you know about potions?”
Ghost blinks, genuinely surprised. Just from the stranger’s odd behaviour, Ghost had feared he’d earn a proposition, or that here, in the safety of the apothecary, the man would push to sell him something most probable to be illegal. 
But alas. An innocent question.
Ghost shoves the wiry bridge of his glasses further up his nose with his thumb, clears his throat. His fingers curl tight around the vial of mistletoe berries he holds as the stranger waits patiently for a reply.
“Well,” Ghost starts slowly, “considering I teach how to make them for a living, I would hope I’d know a thing or two.”
The man beams, eyes bright with gratitude Ghost is not yet worthy of.
“That’s perfect,” he says. “Then do you think you could help me with something?”
Politely, Ghost nods, though he has to wonder why the man hadn’t just gone to the shopkeep for advice first—but then, with a quick glance to the counter, he sees that said shopkeep is nowhere to be seen. His brows dip in a mild frown, not deep enough to be noticeable to anyone but Ghost himself.
“Alright, so—I have this hippogriff that I’ve been takin' care of and normally she isn’t so restless, but for whatever reason nothing I’ve done has worked to keep her calm for very long,” the stranger explains. “Potions are typically a last resort for me so I’m… I’m not sure what I should be making.”
“Uh,” Ghost says intelligently, sifting through his mind for an answer. He knows, he does, only, “I’ve never administered anything to something that wasn’t a wizard, but it should still work the same, with some adjustments.”
The stranger laughs. “‘It’ being…”
“Right, sorry.” Ghost clears his throat. His face warms with a blush, chest filled with passing embarrassment. He’s meant to be good, knowledgeable about these things. “The Draught of Peace. An anxiety reliever. But it’s a difficult potion to brew. You’d have to be experienced in potion-making to be certain nothing goes wrong.”
The stranger’s face falls. Ghost has already come to learn him to be rather expressive.
“Of course,” Ghost adds in a breath before he can stop himself. He isn’t sure why his mouth is still moving. “I could always make it for you.”
It's unfortunate that he can't find it in himself to regret the offer in any regard, after seeing the sheer and open look of hope it instills on the man's face.
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aphroditeslover11 · 6 months
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the time is tough, I need some Oppie x student!reader fluff!!! Something like the one of the exam🥹🥹 I don’t have any specific request, surprise me🫶🏼
Sorry to everybody else who has sent in requests, I’ll try to get to them soon but everything is a bit manic at the moment. In the meantime, I hope that this will tide you over, especially the Oppie lovers out there. This idea just came out of nowhere, so fingers crossed it was what you were thinking of! 🩷
As always requests are still welcome, im just not working at the speed of lighting at the moment!
It’s All French To Me
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As always, based on a very fictional portrayal by Cillian Murphy.
Warnings: alcohol consumption, Oppie smoking as usual, a spot of academic stress.
Usually the first person that you would turn to when you had a problem was Robert. He was always ready and happy to help, in fact he almost seemed to like the fact that you needed him sometimes, but this was something that you felt like you had to hide. You were struggling to get your work up to the level that you wanted it to be at and if you were honest you were embarrassed to tell him. You were seriously considering dropping the course, having said as much to your professor who supported you as you were studying French with him and the body of your degree was politics and philosophy. Your professor was Robert’s best friend though, and you didn’t know how he would react if you told him you were pulling out. Robert seemed to be a genius about anything that anybody ever brought up, he had never had your problems and you didn’t want him to think any less of you because of it. You had spoken to some friends who were having similar problems, but exams were approaching and despite the improvements that a lot of them were seeing in their grades, you had not been so lucky.
~
It wasn’t unusual for a Chevalier to ask Robert to meet with him, the pair were best friends after all, it was just usually at a local bar rather than in the formal setting of his office. They had arranged to meet during a gap between their lectures, though Oppie was confused by how illusive his colleague had been when he had asked for a reason. When he got there, knocking on the door gently before letting himself in, Chevalier was sat at his desk with a glass of whiskey, signalling for him to come and join him.
“Hoke, nothing’s wrong is it? If something has happened why do you want to talk about it here, I’d be happy to have you over this evening. Y/n’s staying over tonight, bring Barbara, I’m sure she’d enjoy a bit of female company.” He seemed to be fumbling with his words, which was uncharacteristic, unless he was anxious.
The French professor poured a glass of whiskey for his friend before beginning his explanation, a perplexed yet awkward expression on his face.
“Oppie, I don’t want you to think that I’m criticising y/n, because I’m not, I actually think that you are largely to blame for this one, but she’s struggling in my class. We’ve even had extra time working together outside lectures and she’s a natural linguist, but probably the most inexperienced to ever take a French Literature course at Berkeley.” Robert didn’t really know why he was being spoken to about this, surely this was your own personal problem.
“And why is that my fault?”
“Because you were the one who talked her into taking it, she turned up on the first day telling me that she hadn’t finished the intermediate course at school because her teacher was as good as shit and the school fired him and couldn’t get a replacement in time to do the exams. Did she tell you that?” This was all news to Robert.
“No, but we did have a very illuminating discussion about the Proust that I read in Corsica, so I just presumed that naturally…”
“Robert, she loves you and puts up with all of your quirks and eccentricities, I dare say she was nodding along like I do when you talk about physics. Take it from me, sometimes you can have an entire conversation with yourself in a room full of people and not realise that nobody else has joined in.” He was aware that this was one of his faults, but wasn’t keen on his friend lecturing him on it, swiftly trying to move the conversation on.
“Regardless of what caused the problem, what do you propose to do about it?” He pulled a pack of Chesterfields and a lighter from his jacket at this point, anything that made him think always required a cigarette.
“She came to me last week saying that she wanted to drop the course but couldn’t because she didn’t want you to think that she was stupid, so I’m going to suggest that she pauses the course and you, as you’re fluent, help her get to a standard where she can resume it next year if she can stand the language after being taught by you. God, the holidays are nearly here, take her to France for Christmas, make it seem exciting so she doesn’t think she’s letting you down. She’s a natural as I said, just inexperienced and lacking confidence, so immersion would probably be the best teacher anyway.”
After a bit more conversation on the subject, it was agreed that this would be the best plan, Haakon sending his friend home to try and persuade you around to the idea. Robert walked out of the office with a warning to remember that he had to be convincing about the whole thing being his idea.
~
It had become a bit of a Friday night tradition that Robert would take you out on a date, picking you up from the little room that you rented in a house nearby. It was always lovely hearing the beep of the horn from outside your window, taking one last look at yourself and fixing your lipstick before going down to meet him. He had this sort of old world charm to him, always opening your door for you, helping you in and out of his car, and tonight was no exception. The drive to the restaurant was pleasant, he mentioned a new book that he was reading and you talked about how disastrously your orchestral rehearsal was the other day, trying to plough through Tchaikovsky’s fourth symphony for the first time.
“Well, that’s what you get when you go near Tchaikovsky, it’s bloody awful don’t you think?”
“I don’t hate it as much as you do, but I certainly prefer a bit of Beethoven, the symphonies are nice to study to if you’re ever looking for some background noise.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
“I can’t stand the fifth anymore though which is a shame, it’s just overplayed.”
“I agree, at least it isn’t Pachelbel’s Canon, I know how much you string players hate that!” He took his eyes off the road briefly to watch you as you laughed at his last comment. You were always beautiful, just more so when you smiled in such a carefree way.
Robert helped you into your seat when you finally arrived, you were quickly brought menus and ordered, opting for the wine pairing that Oppie had guided you to as usual. He may sometimes drink a little more alcohol than was healthy, but at least he had good taste in the stuff. He was halfway through a steak, telling a story about some ridiculous thing that Chevalier had done at a party when he suddenly came out with the question that you really didn’t want to hear:
“Speaking of Hoke, how are you finding French Literature?” You spent a moment debating on whether to make up a lie, say everything was going swimmingly, but he would find out eventually anyway.
“Actually, it’s not going so well. I love languages, I just don’t really have the kind of grounding that I think I need for this. I’d have said earlier, but I didn’t want you to think badly about me for having second thoughts, especially with Haakon being your friend. He’s not the problem by the way, it’s definitely me.” You waited anxiously for his response as Robert considered his next move, knowing he had a plan to stick to.
“When you say second thoughts, do you mean stopping the course?”
“Well, I was considering stopping for now, teaching myself a little more French and resuming it again next year. Though, I’m not sure they’d have me back after this one.” Brilliant, he thought, you were walking right into his little trap.
“I’m sure that wouldn’t be a problem, your delightful and very persuasive inamorato is friends with the professor after all, which could be used to your advantage.” He saw you cringing as his mention of special treatment, which you were always desperate to avoid, and quickly moved on to save himself. “How about you do what you were thinking of, we’ll speak to Hoke together next week and make sure that you’ll have a place next year. In the meantime I can help if you’d like, I’m fluent, not as good as Chevalier but passable.”
“Would you? That would be really helpful.”
“Of course. I love you, why would I not want to help. It’s not like you’re stupid, just inexperienced. Hoke says your a natural, just need a bit more practice.” You were flushing a bit at his praise, you always did when he suggested that he viewed you as a fellow intellectual. His attitudes towards those in his circle that he didn’t weren’t always pleasant, so it meant a lot coming from him.
“There was one other thing. I was wondering if you might want to come and spend the Christmas holidays in France with me, immerse yourself in a bit of the culture. It’s the best way to get fluent that I’ve found.”
“You want to go abroad together, for winter break?”
“If you’re comfortable with it, yes.”
“I’d love to.” He reached for your hand across the table, taking it in his to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.
One conversation with Oppie and, just like that, all of your worries were gone.
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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year
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Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Fem!Reader
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Summary: You, an aspiring food critic, are introduced to Doctor Hannibal Lecter by one of your professors. The two of you bond over good food and perhaps... a mutual attraction. Then, Will Graham -- Hannibal's closest friend and confidant -- is added into the equation and things get a lot more complicated... but let's be honest, a whole lot more interesting as well.
Word Count: 4,464 words.
Warnings: SMUT! (18+ only, minors dni), p in v, light knife play, oral sex (f & m), threesome, lmk if there's anything I missed!
A/N: Yep, not much plot, we are going straight to it. We all know what we came here for right? HEAVY ON THE SELF-INDULGENCE
———
The night air was crisp and cool, seeping all the way to your bones despite the layers you wore. Fall was coming to a close and winter was quickly approaching, icy claws bared. You stared up at the house – his house – admiring the impeccable but austere architecture. It reminded you of a more modern sort of palace and, my word, was it fitting of the man you came to see.
As you locked your car and began slowly walking up the driveway, you shivered, but it had nothing to do with the temperature.
This wouldn’t be the first time you’d dine with Doctor Hannibal Lecter, the most refined palate in all of Baltimore. In fact, the first time you met him – a favor from your creative writing professor, who knew of your dream of becoming a food critic – he’d taken you out to dinner. He was always happy to meet people who loved food as much as he did.
It’d been at a fancy restaurant, glittering diamonds and expensive perfume and the cold sneers of the wealthy surrounding you. It was way out of your budget, to say the least. But you hadn’t been surprised at his choice; he was a little eccentric, after all.
You’d felt bad, but he’d insisted on taking care of the bill, so long as you gave your honest opinion on the dishes he ordered for you to try. You were definitely not a picky eater, but you’d been a bit hesitant to relent all of your control. In the end, your own promise to give everything a chance at least once convinced you.
And boy, did Hannibal know how to eat. Not that you thought all word about him was a rumor, but you simply had not known the depths of their truth.
In just that first meeting, he expanded your palate considerably, presenting you with things you’d never even thought of. Perhaps not to the level he was on, but it still felt like a whole new world was yawning open for you to explore.
Sometimes you still dreamed of the lingering umami of caviar, the richness of a good Malbec wine, the sweet and creamy croquembouche he’d fed you spoonfuls of for dessert.
But you had felt a little embarrassed afterward, like you’d been a mere imposter before that night. What the hell had you even known about food?
You had a couple of exotic meals under your belt, but you were only truly starting your career journey, and money wasn’t always permitting.
On the other hand, you’d also felt slightly reassured by the way he watched you, appraising and unrelenting, with a certain curiosity that made you feel completely exposed. He had delighted in your deep hums of approval, the soft glaze of bliss in your eyes. He hung onto your every word as you described flavors, textures, scents. He’d smirked slightly throughout the entire ordeal, hazel eyes shining with amusement, and you found yourself squirming slightly in your seat.
He hadn’t failed to notice that either. In fact, unbeknownst to you, he had a very keen sense of smell, and he seemed to get hooked on yours.
So yes, you had bonded over food, and every subsequent meeting had brought something new and positively groundbreaking. The way he could make you experience such wonders seemed to entice him to continue seeing you, and you certainly were happy to oblige.
But tonight was different in more than one way. He’d bestowed upon you the great honor of inviting you to one of his famous dinner parties, to finally get a taste of his cooking. The idea of eating something put together by his hands – so elegant, with such long fingers, like a pianist’s – felt incredibly intimate, but also monumental. It was anticipation that had you quivering, your whole body tight and seemingly buzzing with electricity.
Especially as you heard a car door shut behind you. Ah, there was the other reason you were so anxious. You whirled around to face him and his steps slowed as he found himself pinned under your gaze.
Not necessarily a rival, but someone who definitely seemed to want to compete with you for Doctor Lecter’s attention. In his own subtle way, of course.
You had heard the name Will Graham a couple of times in your meetings with Hannibal and it was very apparent that they were close. Very close.
When you two had finally been introduced, you did not know what to make of one another. Will was tense and awkward for the most part, avoiding eye contact as much as he could. He was definitely more reserved, letting you and Hannibal do most of the talking, but chiming in with dry remarks whenever he thought it was necessary.
But he also seemed intrigued by you, often looking at you at least from the corner of his eye, like he wanted to see for himself what your appeal to Hannibal was. Not many got close to the Doctor, it seemed, even as popular as he was.
Will studied you in return and smiled almost imperceptibly. It felt like a truce, which you readily accepted.
“What a coincidence,” he said. “We’re both so punctual.”
“Anything else would be rude.” You said, your tone light, even if you firmly believed it to be true. Especially when it came to Hannibal.
He stepped toward you, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”
You linked your arm with his, immediately getting a whiff of his strong aftershave. You understood why Hannibal hated it, but you didn’t voice your opinions. You wished you could smell his more natural scent – pine needles and petrichor and musk – as it fit him much better. It made you want to bury your face in the crook of his neck, fingers intertwined with the curls at his nape.
Perhaps he also did not know what to do with the fact you seemed to be drawn to him as well. It was that quiet, mysterious air about him, always assessing, poised to strike. In a way, he sort of reminded you of Hannibal, though not quite as eased into that darker, more primal nature.
You waited as Will rang the doorbell, arm still holding yours. You weren’t sure if he was leading you, or if he had captured you, not letting you escape. The idea of either was titillating, though it wasn’t like you wanted to leave.
Then, the door opened and there he was, that familiar smirk already on his handsome face.
“Well, well,” Hannibal said. “It’s a pleasure to see you both. Please, come in.”
As you stepped over the threshold, Will took the bottle of wine you brought – a Shiraz, which you remembered Hannibal mentioned liking – as Dr. Lecter stepped behind you.
“May I?” He asked, referring to your coat.
You nodded and his hands slid over your shoulders lightly as you shrugged your coat off. His fingers were warm, almost teasing, and you momentarily wondered how they’d feel on your exposed flesh.
Hannibal inhaled deeply, scenting your perfume – Amber, smoky cedar, bergamot – and that chemical change in your sweat at his nearness.
“Your home is so lovely.” You breathed, taking in your surroundings-- The pastoral art on the walls, the dark glaze of the hardwood floors, the almost surgical cleanliness. It was all just so him. “Thank you for inviting me.”
Hannibal nodded in appreciation, leading you both to the dining room. Will, who was at your side, leaned in close to your ear. “Be careful not to let your jaw fully unhinge, it’s bad for the muscle.”
You scoffed, half amused and half offended. Was he accusing you of being a brown-noser, or did he dislike simply dislike you currying Hannibal’s favor?
“We don’t have to do this, you know,” You said, your voice a husky whisper. “We were playing nice just now. Though I have to say, I do like that little fire of yours. It tells me you can still burn, if you so want.”
Will said nothing, and you knew that in some way, you got to him. Yes, you’d had just a little bit of liquid courage before you got here, but just enough to warm the blood; If only so they might not confuse you for a trembling fawn, surrendering to its fate. It had certainly loosened your tongue a little, letting your desires slip through.
As Hannibal pulled your chair out for you, his smirk grew a little as he sensed the sudden tension between you and his coveted Will Graham. Oh, things were already getting so interesting.
Hannibal poured three glasses of the wine you brought, reaching over to squeeze your hand upon reading the label. You felt a swell of pride in your chest, hid it behind a demure smile. He eyed the column of your throat as you swallowed your wine.
“Forgive my forwardness,” Hannibal said, setting his glass down. “But I must say, you look quite… delectable tonight. Did you go through all that trouble just for me?”
“Doctor Lecter–” You breathed a small, shy laugh, cheeks flushed.
“Careful, Hannibal.” Will cut in, looking right at you. “She might put your dinner to shame.”
“No, I don’t believe she would.” Hannibal leaned forward slightly. “In fact, I have some slightly regretful news. I apologize for waiting until now to bring this up, but I thought we could have a different approach to tonight’s dinner.”
You tilted your head to one side, just now realizing that there were no enticing scents of a cooked meal. You’d been so occupied with his presence to notice. Disappointment curled in your stomach, but his tone made you straighten your spine.
“Oh?” You prompted, suddenly very curious.
“In the continued pursuit of new experiences for you, I was wondering… How would you like to be tasted?”
There was a moment of silence in which you didn’t even move, unsure if you were dreaming or he’d actually just said those words. Oh, what cruel torture it would be, if it turned out to be the former.
But then he went on. “Will and I spoke of it. He was the one to suggest the idea, actually.”
Your eyes immediately drifted to Will Graham, who was looking intently at Hannibal’s profile. That was a time he decided to stay quiet, but you didn’t fail to notice how his Adam’s appled bobbed with a hard swallow.
“Did he now?” Your voice dropped to a near whisper, sultry, coaxing. “And did Mister Graham go into the specifics of how this would go about?”
“Well if I did or not, wouldn’t it be better for you to find out?” Will said, terse, as if he could still not admit his desires to himself. Like he was ashamed of wanting something to keenly. “Or did you want me to tell you?”
You held his gaze for a moment, shaking your head almost imperceptibly.
But then, looking at both men, a sort of awareness made your skin tingle. A field mouse between two mighty serpents, not fully concealed in the tall grass. You wondered how their fangs might feel as they sunk into you, how their venom must sting.
Well, you did say you would try anything at least once, didn’t you?
You cleared your throat, crossing your legs. “Will anyone else be joining us for dinner?”
Hannibal arched a light brow, just as Will finally looked at you, a little taken aback. To Hannibal, this wasn’t so much of a revelation, but more of a confirmation. You secretly loved the theatricality, the rapturous looks of spectators. Most of all, you loved when the spotlight was on you, baring everything – your soul included – for examination. It was what drew him most to you.
Perhaps eventually, but that night…
“No, just us.” Hannibal said finally. “Only with your consent, of course. I do not want to make assumptions. It was just a thought, a mere… unbecoming desire.”
“Perhaps it is mutual.” You admitted, breathless. “We are only made of flesh and fault, after all.”
“Yes, and how tender seems the flesh.” He trailed a finger lightly down your arm, and goosebumps followed in its wake.
Hannibal’s easy smirk returned as you squirmed, thighs rubbing against each other, heat pooling in your stomach and even lower. Will adjusted in his seat, clearing his throat, swallowing hard once again.
You wondered what it would be like to see him break; to see him without restraints, free, surrendered to his basest instincts. You wondered if Hannibal had seen him that way, and if he was just about to share that with you. Or do the same to you.
You weren’t sure which you wanted more, but you were sure you would lose your head if you got neither. Were you beneath begging? It was yet to be seen…
You worried your bottom lip with your teeth, unsure of how to proceed. “What do you need me to do?”
“Nothing, dearest. Leave it to me – to us. You’ll be in very good hands.”
That sultry promise in his words – purred to you in a way only he seemed to know how – melted you completely. You had never believed in anything more.
-------------------------------
The first slow lick of your open mouth had your breath catching, but you couldn’t do much more than close your eyes. Hannibal held your face with one hand, and you were sure it was the only thing grounding you to the Earth; tethering you to your own body.
But then his tongue dragged over yours a second time, and a soft mewl escaped you, your head spinning.
“I’m not sure which I like more,” Hannibal said, voice husky. “Those sounds you make, or the taste of good wine on your tongue.”
The three of you had moved to the kitchen, with you sitting on the dark granite island. The kitchen was opulent and in pristine condition, though there were small details that showed it was well lived in. Out of all the rooms in the house, you knew this was where Hannibal spent most of his time.
Not that you were really paying much attention to your surroundings at that very moment.
“I think you’ve rendered her speechless.” Will commented, an edge of amusement in his voice.
Your eyes fluttered open just barely as Hannibal chuckled. “And we’re barely getting started.”
He slowly trailed the back of his hand down the sleeve of your blouse. “I don’t think we’re going to be needing this, do you?’’
Hannibal took a step back, fingers pensively dancing over the handles of the knives that were stored in a polished wooden block. You immediately moved to start unbuttoning your silk blouse, hands shaking.
But Will, in a sudden act of confidence, stepped forward, between your legs.
“Allow me.” He murmured, eyes downcast.
You watched him closely, how his patient hands slowly finished undoing all the buttons. Your chest heaved as he gently pushed it off your shoulders, pooling at your back. He gazed intently at the lacy bralette you wore, barely concealing anything. Your nipples were two hard peaks that pressed against the thin fabric, demanding attention.
But he did not give it to you. At least, not yet.
Then, Will and Hannibal switched places, your eyes closely trailing the glint of the chef knife’s edge. Your pulse began racing, both in exhilaration and a slight tinge of fear.
Hannibal took a moment to look at you, his hand coming to rest on the flat expanse on your stomach. His hand inches upwards, fingers just barely grazing the soft underwire of your bralette.
“Let’s see what we’re working with here, shall we?” He purred, holding your gaze. “Lean back for me, sweetness.”
You oblige without a doubt. In the next moment, his finger curls, pulling the underwire forward, the knife following close behind. You gasped and in a quick, expert slash, the measly excuse for a cover falls apart, baring your breasts. Your back arched instinctively, attempting to get closer to him.
Hannibal hummed in approval, his smirk positively devious. “Take a gander, Will.”
He trailed the flat part of the knife — featherlight, barely a whisper – down your sternum, through the valley between your breasts. You dared not move this time, not wanting to distract him from this deliciously slow torture. You kept expecting even the slightest nick of the blade, and that fearful anticipation made you even more aroused.
“I must say, I’m not quite sure where to start. Such softness… Such supple skin.” Hannibal mused. The tip of the knife stopped at the hem of your skirt, and he tilted his head to the side with the curiosity of a predator sizing up its’ meal. “We should free you of this too, hm?”
“Yes.” You breathed.
Will tsked in disapproval. “Don’t forget your manners, now.”
Your eyes were drawn to him, your pupils blown wide with desire, the darkness swallowing your iris. You briefly wondered if they could hear the jackhammer pace of your heart; Like a war drum against your ribcage.
“Please.” You added, just as low, your voice somewhere out of reach.
The knife retracted and Hannibal offered you a hand so you could stand up. As soon as you did, he pressed you against him, your bare chest against his woefully clothed one. Will came up behind you, intent on unzipping your skirt, but you stopped him with the arch of your back, pressing your ass against his crotch.
He sucked an audible breath through his teeth, a groan threatening to escape his throat. Hannibal chuckled as Will gripped your hands behind your back with one hand and finally undid your skirt. Roughly, he pulled it off of you, stepping back as Hannibal quickly spun you around to face him.
You gripped Will’s arms tightly as his lips captured yours in a ferocious kiss. He held you up as Hannibal ripped your stockings apart – both with the knife and his hands – jostling you a little against Will. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as your panties fell to the same fate.
When you broke the kiss – an obscene string of saliva still connecting your lips – you looked into his eyes, breath catching at the intensity of them; Like a pure and holy – or perhaps unholy? – blue flame. He was getting more and more beautiful by the minute, unraveling before your eyes.
You felt Hannibal’s finger trail up your inner thigh, capturing your wetness. “What a delightful mess you’ve made.”
You squirmed in Will’s embrace, slightly embarrassed at his discovery. How were you so wet already?
Actually, you knew the answer to that question.
Hannibal’s fingers trailed further up, precariously close to that aching spot you really wanted him to touch. But he stopped, almost expectant.
“What do we say?” Will said, voice dangerously low.
“T-thank you.” You gasped as Hannibal grazed his teeth against your inner thigh, chasing away the sharp sting with his tongue.
Involuntarily, you pushed your hips back, closer to his face. You heard Will’s belt clink slightly as he undid it, along with his trousers. You reached down, wanting to touch him, to savor him too, but he only smirked devilishly.
“Greedy thing, isn’t she?” Will purred, taking a hold of your hand to stop you.
“So it seems.” Hannibal said, standing up. “But with such delectable honey, how can we deny her?”
From behind you, he stretched his hand out towards Will, offering his fingers slick with your arousal. Without a second thought, Will leaned forward and captured his fingers in his mouth, tongue wrapping around his digits.
And that taste of you, saccharine on his tongue, sticking to his palate in all its glory, snapped something in him. He let out a low growl and pushed your hand away, his trousers and boxers soon falling to the floor in a heap.
Hannibal crouched once more behind you as Will pulled you forward, your eyes widening and mouth watering. At the same time that Hannibal buried his face in your cunt, you grasped Will’s erection, a glistening bead of precum on the tip.
Will leaned back against the kitchen island and you bent lower, sticking your tongue out and lapping up the precum. The taste of him was a bit sharp, but not unpleasant; salty and slightly musky. You hummed in approval, giving the underside of the head a teasing lick. His hand buried in your hair, guiding your head gently.
As you took him in your mouth, you moaned around his length. Hannibal was licking you in long, languid strokes, hands spreading you further open. Your legs twitched, but you were too wrapped up in the feel of Will’s cock sliding over your tongue. He shuttled it in and out slowly, reaching a little further every time. You hummed your pleasure continuously, the vibration of it adding to his own pleasure.
Will’s hips bucked and he grunted, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back in ecstasy. Then behind you, Hannibal picked up the pace, his tongue circling your clit as he inserted a finger into your cunt. Your whole body tensed, the movements of your head momentarily halting, and Will snapped to attention.
“Don’t make her come yet.” He snarled, a startling possessive edge to his tone.
Much to your chagrin, Hannibal acquiesced, pulling back, though his finger was still pumping in and out of you at a much slower pace. With a loud pop, you released his cock, drool sloppily dripping down your chin.
“Apologies, I got too carried away.” Hannibal panted, sounding quite smug at how he got you dripping for him. “I’ve seldom tasted something quite so divine. Sweet ambrosia, a feast worthy of the Gods.”
He withdrew completely, pulling you up with him. One hand came up to grip your neck just tight enough to keep you pinned; The other came up to palm your breast, thumb teasing your nipple. You growled in frustration, wiggling your hips.
“What’s that now?” Will taunted, stroking his length slowly – flicking his wrist just so… oh sweet torture! – his breath ragged. “Didn’t we agree to play nice earlier?”
“Oh, she’s being nice. Aren’t you, sweetness?” Hannibal purred, tilting your head to the side to meet his gaze. He looked much like you, lower half of his face glistening with an artful mess of your own creation. “Perhaps she deserves a taste.”
And he kissed you, tongue immediately parting your lips and tangling with your own. You tasted yourself on his lips, mixed in with his saliva, and it had an almost narcotic effect on you. Warmth spread throughout you, oblivion just at your fingertips. You were simply, utterly hooked.
He pulled away to toss his jacket to the side and then bound your hands behind your back with his tie. You heard him undo his trousers and you suppressed a shiver of anticipation. You kept your eyes on Will, the steady rhythm of his hand stroking himself hypnotizing you.
Then, you felt Hannibal’s cock line up with your entrance, the head of it barely slipping in. His low groan was in your ear and he dipped his head to nip your shoulder. You held your breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he plunged further into you, making sure you felt every inch.
When he was fully sheathed in you – your head swimming and barely able to tell where he ended and you began – your mouth slackened in pure, unadultered ecstasy.
“How angelic,” Will breahted, awed. “Look at the rapture in her eyes, gazing directly into Heaven.”
“How lucky… she had us to show her.” Hannibal panted.
Hannibal fucked you with a near surgical precision, his thrusts deep and unrelenting, knowing exactly what spots to hit to make you cry out. In fact, he guided himself by the sounds you made, adjusting quickly to whatever seemed to make you respond the most. His hand snaked down to your clit, stroking in time with his thrusts.
And he had to admit, you really did look like an angel in that moment, rosy cheeked, eyelashes thick with tears of overstimulation. Those undignified moans of yours were like a melody he would remember for days to come.
By the tight clench of your cunt, he knew you were right there, but as much as he wanted you to come all over his cock – anointing him with your cream, forever marking him – he knew he’d already been quite greedy with you. He wanted Will to have it; A gift to him.
The swap was almost seamless; one moment you were achingly empty, ready to claw the walls if you didn’t get your release soon. But then you were bent over the kitchen island, legs kicked apart, and Will filled you up in a single thrust.
The way he fucked you was wholly different. Will was more frantic, almost feral, all bared teeth and low growling. His hips slapped against yours loudly, his thrusts quick and almost punishing.
Your body was pure fire, a pillar of all consuming flame. You worried you would slip through their fingers if you weren’t held together tight enough.
Hannibal watched through the whole ordeal, stroking himself, though a part of you wished you could be doing it for him.
And suddenly, with a slight tilt of his hips, Will hit a certain spot inside of you that finally unraveled that tight coil in your stomach. With a keening wail, you stumbled into oblivion, shooting stars streaking in the darkness your eyelids.
Will was right there with you, the tight clench your cunt milking out his pleasure. He painted his design inside you, a messy, unabashed masterpiece.
After a couple more heartbeats, in which you listened to his grunts and ragged breathing, he pulled out of you, sticky warmth trickling down your inner thigh.
Hannibal undid the tie holding your hands, massaging your arms gently and kissing down your spine. He’d already cleaned himself of his own release, now intent on taking care of you. He turned you around and embraced you, wiping your damp hair away from your forehead.
You sagged against him, smiling beatifically, breathing heavily still. Your body still responded to his touch, but you were exhausted.
Will soon returned, already clean himself, with a soft towel in hand. He kneeled in front of you and cleaned you with the utmost care. Both of them looked at you reverently, like someone to worship.
“Well, out of all our times dining together, I have to say… this has been my favorite.” You sighed dreamily, voice still tremulous.
Hannibal chuckled. “Trust me, sweet angel, this won’t be the only time.”
And you were more than okay with that promise.
———
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I’m in love with OddDuck, now all I can think is meeting Alfred or Dick and just being super curious about them 🥰 they have an idea cause Bruce talks about Odd but meeting them was a different b-ball game (in a good way)
For an eccentric professor, Alfred noted as he took your coat, you were remarkably normal looking.
He didn't know why he expected you to be different. Not all smiles and soft spoken words- soft but very clear. You didn't mumble, even if you didn't quite make eye contact. Evidently, someone had taught you a few little tricks to 'fake' making eye contact and still keep yourself comfortable.
And the cardigans were a pleasant change. He didn't know why he enjoyed that little detail either but- he would love to see the inside of your house. To see if you had tea cups and saucers or proper mugs. He could peg you as someone who enjoyed a nice Lady Grey and honey... something he was rarely wrong about.
"Master Bruce is waiting for you in the library," he said.
"Thank you, Alfred," you answer, smiling. Tucking your cardigan closer to your body. Shy, Alfred decided. But well brought up. Country manners, then.
You trailed after him and he listened to your footfalls. The only other person he'd met from Metropolis tended to float. You didn't seem to, he noted. So, all civilian then. Odd.
But, that on its own was, perhaps, a good thing. Bruce could use less drama that had world-ending consequences. Conferences, research trips, and buying antique books were a far cry from shootouts and grappling matches.
Alfred delivered you to the library and when Bruce looked up from the papers he was frowning at, his face softening and his shoulders relaxing, he decided that, even if you did turn out to be a bit mad, Bruce could keep you.
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twistedgardens · 2 years
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Kinktober #4
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Since there's no confirmed age for Lilia, I don't feel the need to say that he's aged up. He's just a really old man in a very young body.
Content: pet names, somnophilia, oral (female receiving), breeding
Warning: yandere content ahead and all it might entail. Readers are warned that the content contains but not limited to drugging, non-con (non-consent), delusional behavior, somnophilia, forced orgasms, etc. Reader's discretion is advised. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
Original yandere prompt found here by drxwsyni (iris). Not mine.
"Y/N, would you like to join me for tea tomorrow afternoon?"
You were startled by Lilia's question. He came out of the blue in his usual fashion right after lunch. There were a million and one things on your mind. You should have refused, but the temptation of peace and quiet and lovely company proved too strong.
"I'd love to! What time?"
Lilia gave you explicit instructions to come in casual dress, and to leave Grim at home or with a babysitter.
"You look like you could use a break from Grim's...antics. You don't mind keeping an old man company by yourself, do you?" Asked Lilia.
You could have sighed with relief. You didn't mind Grim, and you were close as room mates and friends, but his attitude and ego grated your nerves sometimes. It was like living with the embodiment of chaos, between him, the ghosts, and the occasional overblotted student. Tea with someone more mature, albeit just as eccentric, sounded like a respite from the usual noise and shenanigans that Grim brought along with him wherever he went. It was almost an offer too good to be true!
"I wouldn't mind at all. You're not old at any rate. You seem younger than Crowley even or Professor Trein. Don't be so hard on yourself," you said.
Lilia smirked as if you just said a joke." You know sometimes I think, you're too kind for this place. Much too kind. Crowley takes advantage. How do you put up with him?"
You both laughed.
Lilia took in the scene he crafted. A small table in the garden, secluded from where anyone could see them. The trees camouflaged the table with leaves and sweet-scented flowers. He made sure that the students of Diasomnia would be away, including his own charges. Sebek and Silver would guard Malleus just so Lilia could clear his schedule. Tea and treats and little savories were made by someone other than Lilia, sad to say. As much as he wanted to, Silver was quite adamant that Lilia did NOT make anything the prefect of Ramshackle House was intended to eat. Well, that left Silver plenty distracted to not see the ingredients that went into the tea. Nothing harmful.
The hour arrived. The prefect arrived like an ambassador from a foreign kingdom. Lilia pulled out her chair for her before sitting down himself. His old, old bones felt nimble again. This form of his which he presented to everyone was hard to maintain. Though, it had it's good qualities. For many a human, youthfulness and beauty belied hidden dangers. Humans could be so fickle sometimes unlike you. Lilia never met a human like you. You were full of strange stories about your own world, not too much unlike his own, but to live in a world completely without magic? How painful, how dull. Nothing more would please him than to show you how wonderful magic could be. How it could make your life a dream come true if you'd only let it.
Lilia poured two cups. The fragrance was bitter-sweet with a bit of lemon. He brought the cup to his lips, but did not drink. He watched you do the same. Only that her cup was filled with a little than his. Lilia distracted her with conversation and jokes to keep her from looking at his cup.
"Is there anything you miss about your world, Y/N? Anything back home that you care and miss deeply? Family, perhaps?" Asked Lilia.
You take a bite out of a lemon tart and chew before answering. You shrug.
"I have a few things, family, pets, a job. Being here, makes everything feel so small. Going back, I don't know how I'll be able to reconnect with all of that after being in a place like this."
"Do you miss them, your family and friends back home? Do you think they're missing you right now? "
"I imagine they would. Wouldn't anybody? Would Silver miss you if you went missing one day?"
Lilia nodded. "Family is very important for us, especially the Fae. It is sometimes difficult to conceive children, and many of us are selfish and fickle. Cruel, even. But when we appreciate someone, that kinship lasts forever. It becomes a thorn."
"A thorn? That seems kind of mean if you ask me," you said.
"What would be a rose without thorns? The rose didn't grow up one day and decided to arm itself for no reason. Thorns provide protection. When I say a person becomes a thorn, what I mean is that they become someone who surrounds the other person with caring protection from intruders and thieves. To arm oneself against danger is not a sin or weakness, it is the nature of those who have been hurt before."
"And...have you been hurt before, Lilia?" You asked.
"More times than I can count. More tea?"
Lilia refilled your cup. The tea in the kettle was a different hue thanks to it steeping a little bit longer. Lilia continued to smile though you felt your brain becoming fuzzy. Remembering little details slipped through the cracks. From across the table, Lilia watched your head begin to droop towards your chest and your eyelids flutter close. It was an admirable fight between you and the inevitable sleep that consumed you. Your body slumped in the garden chair, limp as a rag doll.
It took Lilia some effort to carry you from the garden to a secret room he'd been preparing for weeks. Your limbs were all gangly and doll-like thanks to the special brew. The chamber, built entirely of magic, hid behind a wall in an unused room below his. No one would venture to looking inside until you were long gone. One year more, Lilia estimated, he only needed to remain at Night Raven for one more year, just long enough to see Malleus graduate. He would make his excuses and bring the prince of Briar Valley to take his rightful place as ruler. But unbeknownst to anyone, including Malleus, was that Lilia also intended to take you with him.
He laid you out on the canopy bed fit for a queen, for you were royalty in all but name in his eyes. You wouldn't be comfortable waking up in this sort of place if your shoes kept biting into your heels, so Lilia removed them. While he was at it, he took off your knee-high socks as well. Long, slender fingers ran up your legs, stopping only at the knee. His fingers itched like nothing else. Lilia sat on the bed to watch you sleep. You were completely unaware of your new surroundings and situation. You were pliant, unresisting, and so ripe for the taking. You truly didn't know the effect you had on men, did you?
Lilia crawled on top of the bed, on top of you. He placed his knee between your legs, crumbling up the skirt you wore. His arms kept most of his weight off you. Lilia lowered himself to place an innocent kiss on your temple. The scent of your hair and skin drove his senses mad. He kissed lower.
Your forehead. Peck. Your nose. Peck. Your cheeks. Peck. Your mouth.
Your lips he devoured last to savor the moment. Though you could not reciprocate for the time being, Lilia lost all of his patience. Your lips were warm and full of life and sweetness. He kissed you and explored inside your mouth with his tongue. He needed to feel more, more, more.
Lilia slipped the blouse off, then your skirt. His flesh felt like it was burning, so he shed off layers too. He pulled your underpinnings off and laid them aside like treasures. Those might come in handy for him later. Your legs were supple, pliant, and easy to hoist one over his shoulder without you resisting. Lilia rested between your legs and leaving a trail of kissed along your inner thigh. With your pussy uncovered, Lilia licked his lips and turned his attention to you and the bundle of nerves begging to be played with. You didn't make a sound at first when Lilia pressed his face against your cunt nor when he gave it experimental licks.
You tasted better than he imagined. Your body writhed in your sleep as Lilia lapped at your folds and nibble gently on your clit. When he caused you to drip, he suckled on your clit and pumped his fingers inside your wet heat until he felt you squeeze on his fingers. Your back arched off the bed and settled back into the mattress, but you remained unconscious. Your slick juices coated Lilia's fingers and tongue. He sucked on his fingers and hummed at the taste of you. His pants were now too tight for him.
Lilia didn't have the time or patience to pull his clothes off. The least he managed was undo his zipper and pulled down his shorts, leggings, and boxers just enough to release his cock already dripping pre-cum. He aligned his cock up to your cunt and waited only a few short breaths before pushing it inside. Lilia closed his eyes, savoring the moment, as he sank deeper. Your eyelids fluttered but did not open. Your body lurched and writhed as if trying to push off the invader. Lilia's grip on your hips kept you in place. He slowly dragged his cock in and out, building a rhythm.
"I couldn't help myself, little one. You're just so precious when you sleep. All vulnerable. You're so pretty it makes me think you might have wanted this to happen. For me to take you away and make you my own. The next time you wake up, I promise, you'll feel every inch of me kissing you, licking you, suckling on those pretty tits. You'll know nothing else but the pleasure I give you."
Lilia rocked his hips against yours. Your body writhed but still did little else. Your eyes remained closed. You were living, breathing, and warm, so it wasn't like Lilia wanted to fuck you as a corpse. Your heart was what he wanted the most, but for the time being, having your body was second best.
"Just think of it. Our children will be so pretty. Half you, and half me. I wonder if I filled you up this time you'd wake up full and pregnant already? I just want to see that belly grow full. My own sleeping beauty so full and round from my cum seeping inside of you, bearing cute little progeny. Won't that be wonderful?"
Lilia didn't worry about making too much noise with his hips slamming into yours and the bed rocking into the wall. He could be, you both could be, as loud as he wanted. The thought of you laying in his bed back at Briar Valley, dressed in silk and carrying a huge belly. He would still fuck this tight, warm cunt of yours even while you were already heavily pregnant.
“I’ll make you feel so good you won’t even be able to think about anyone else.”
Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Lilia chanted in his head while he continued to abuse your cunt. There was too much pent up emotion that he needed to let out before moving forward. You'd be nothing but sore when you finally woke up. Lilia needed to make further preparations. But first things first, he needed to bury himself all the way to the hilt of you and fill you up. Unfortunately for you, Lilia had the stamina for days after waiting this long to get you here.
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