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#I could rant about Judgement alone for an hour
Hi! I've read a couple of your fics and guidelines for requesting and I'd like to give it a go. Can I get a Tech x reader who's a friend of Phee (canon divergence where He lives) where he falls in love with reader and spends time relaxing on Pabu. Hope you have a wonderful day/night/whatever time it is for you! 😁
Falling Swiftly
Tech x Reader
Summary- Being a friend of Phee's, you meet The Bad Batch. Tech catches your eye, and you eventually get to live out your dream with him on Pabu.
A/N- *slowly slides in*.....So its been almost three months since I've posted.... SORRY! Better late then never? Either way, it's here now!! I hope you enjoy, TYSM for requesting!!! I went a little crazy at the beginning, sad to happy is MY FAV! The timeline is slightly exaggerated.
Word Count- 1,622
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Tech. CT-9902. Brown Eyes.
You had first heard of the name when your friend Phee had sent you a Holo message. One that explained she ran into a group called 'The Bad Batch,' that they would be returning to the island with her.
You were ecstatic that your long-distance friend would be returning to Pabu. It had been weeks since you had seen her, you needed to catch up.
She always told you about the trifling adventures she went on, she was the thrill seeker of the friendship. You were content living vicariously through her.
Though, her bringing in a new 'batch' of people? Mild concern flowed through you, but you trusted Phee's judgement. Even if she had barely escaped death many times.... Okay, maybe you didn't trust her completely.
When word spread through the island that a ship was inbound, you knew it was her. Pabu didn't get many visitors.
You eagerly awaited her at the top of the island, a safe distance from the landing pad. You were practically bouncing on your heels with excitement.
"Phee!" You exclaimed as soon as you saw her exit the ship. She laughed and walked over with open arms.
A warm hug was exchanged, but cut short as the rest of 'The Bad Batch' walked down the ramp.
A small girl and three men, who vaguely resembled clones, appeared.
Your eyes immediately landed on the quirky looking man. He wore glasses, shaded yellow, and had his head down to look at his Holo pad. He somehow managed to not trip or run into anyone. This slightly impressed you.
"This is Pabu. My home away from home!" She announced to the group.
"And this, is my dear friend." She shared your name to the group while you awkwardly waved.
The tension was eased as soon as the young girl, ran up to you.
"That's such a pretty name, I'm Omega!" She radiated energy, her kindness was contagious. "Thank you. It's really nice to meet you, Omega."
Pleasantries were cut short as Phee continued her tour. You trailed along with them, mostly keeping quiet.
You always noticed how people tuned you out, almost forgetting you were there. It was something you were used to, so why change? You were talkative to the people you were comfortable with, wasn't that enough?
Somehow you didn't feel that way with, who you learnt was, Tech. Sure, his eyes were glued to his pad most of the time- but the few days you spent with him felt different.
When traveling around the island with everyone, Tech didn't let you trail behind. He always kept up with your pace. Only a few words were exchanged alone, but he always made you feel... human. He didn't let you be forgotten.
It shocked you when he knocked on your door, asking to go on a walk. You could faintly hear Omega and Wrecker snickering behind a bush.
Fighting your surprise, you accepted.
From there, the two of you spent hours upon hours together.
The smile on your face would only grown when he started ranting about his current interest. His vast knowledge amused you.
When he recounted tales of him and "The Bad Batch's" adventures, you felt like you were really there. Not to mention some of the recordings he had showed you.
One night, the two of you had found yourselves by the sand. The sound of the water splashing up made you sleepy.
With your arms crossed under your head, you laid flat. Tech, who was next to you, sat bent over. Of course- his Holo pad was between his hands.
"Did you know some beaches glow?" He started, eyes still down.
"Hmm? Really?" You asked, shifting your attention to him.
"Well-" He pushed his goggles up. "They are not technically glowing. The bright light is caused by ostracod crustaceans, which are bioluminescent organisms."
You closed your eyes, listening to him rant on about different sea life that illuminated light.
Your smile soon dropped, sadness overtaking you. A wave of emotions hit, you remembered all too well that he was leaving in the morning... You understood he had to save his old friend, Crosshair. Though, it didn't hurt any less.
Desperately, you tried to conceal your pain. Only a sniffle escaped.
Tech, oh so observant, Tech. "What is wrong?" He set his Holo pad down, eyes locked on you.
He cared about you so much... You squeezed your eyes shut and shuffled to a sit. You could barely respond, your tears overtaking you. "You're leaving..." At that, you shoved your face in your hands.
You didn't notice that Tech had moved closer until his hands gently pulled at your wrist. "I'll be back." He insisted, trying to see your face.
"Tech, I'm worried for you. What if something happens?" You stared at him, an argumentative tone present.
With an unintentional scoff, he spoke. "I have been on many improbable missions. If I thought this one was impossible, I wouldn't be going."
You sat there, wrist still in his grasp. "You don't understand.." Your eyes filled again.
It's true Tech was not one for emotions, or picking up on tension. It was difficulty for him to process others feelings.
"I know. Please... Help me understand."
You just sobbed, he pulled you tight against his chest. You could feel his heart beating, it was fast like yours.
He kissed the top of your head, at a loss for words. Eventually, a hand fell down to rest on your back. He slightly rubbed it every so often.
That was all you remembered of that night. It had been days after, no one knew when they would be coming back. If they were coming back. It was a no contact mission, the risk was too high.
Your mind was filled with thought of him. Sure, he was gone, but he seemed so vivid in your memory.
He was genuine. You knew he wasn't lying when he pushed your hair back and complimented your eyes.
You knew he wasn't lying when he held your hand softly and told you how he yearned to stay with you.
You knew he wasn't lying when the two of you picked flowers and promised a future together.
Who knew that future would be at such a high stake? Was your Tech going to come back alive?
It had been a painful two weeks. Each day without him was a stab to your heart.
What had stressed your out most, was seeing their ship fly in... It was about to be reality. Was he alive? Dead?
You anxiously shifted on your heels at the top of the island, not unlike the first day you met Tech.
Hunter was the first off the ship, next was the man you assumed to be Crosshair.
"Hunter! Is he-" You would later feel bad for not welcoming Hunter back as well, but he'd understand.
Your question was answered as soon as you saw him pace out the ship. For once in his life, he wasn't holding his Holo Pad.
As you would later learn from Hunter, Tech had never been this eager to land the ship...
"Tech!" You ran up, meeting him. A slight jump had you wrapping your arms around his neck. His own hands joining on your lower back.
All you could do was bury your face in his neck and whisper thanks to the Maker.
Your arms only relaxed when you felt kisses on the top of your head. "Oh, Tech. I missed you more than words can describe." You said, pulling slightly away to look into his eyes.
"I think I understand." He said looking down at you. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, confused. Then it hit you- the beach.
With a sob, your grip tightened again as you held him.
A slight pang hit your chest when remembering that moment, it quickly went away. You were completely content with Tech, living out your days on Pabu.
The memory did, however, make you want to see your husband. Getting up from your chair in the kitchen, you headed out to your somewhat of a shed. Tech mostly worked in there, tools and projects that helped Pabu.
You gave a quick knock on the wooden door to let him know you were there, but you assumed he already knew by him calling you name.
A mischievous grin came across your face when you realized he had taken his sleeved shirt off and tied it around his waist. The Pabu heat was no joke in the summer.
"What ya working on?" You queried, leaning over him. Your chin rested on his sweaty shoulder.
"Experimenting on an echolocation device to persuade fish towards the fishermen's ships." He explained briefly for you, head still down working at a handheld device.
When you didn't move nor respond, he shuffled to look at you. "Did something happen?"
His eyes absentmindedly scanned you for any physical injury. Deep down, Tech was still a soldier.
"No, just thinking about you." You smiled at him, just wanting to spend time with him.
He understood well enough and moved to pull a chair up by the table. "Here, you can watch." His words seemed off putting, but you knew that's just how he was. That it was his way of showing he cared and also wanted your presence.
So, you sat and listened to him rant about the technological side of his piece, and that the last step was to make it bolt to the base of the fishing boats.
You couldn't offer many ideas or solutions, but Tech being able to talk out the project helped him tweak his wires. He always worked better with you next to him...
A/N- Thank you so much for reading! This is BARELY proof read, sorry! I just wanted to get something out for you guys!!! Please let me know of any constructive criticism!
Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss @dangraccoon
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Hello hello! Shifting from the romance for a moment would be neat I think — how about full HCs for what the M6 are like as friends for the MC? Like when the MC is in a relationship with one of them/someone else, but is friends with others. Who stays at their place until 3 am sharing Tea? Who's the protective friend? Who's the "hi I'm outside let's go do something" friend? etc.
The Arcana HCs: M6 as friends
~ @nabesima this is such a fresh idea, thank you for sending it to me friend!! hope you enjoy - brainrot ~
Julian
He falls into an older brother dynamic so quickly with you it's almost scary
Which means that, as he is with his younger sister, he is quite protective of you to the point of sometimes being a killjoy
But that's only when he's able to see a bad idea as a bad idea. If it's a bad idea that promises to be a good story, he's all on board
Absolutely the kind of person to keep you company if you ever feel lonely. Is your lover out of town? Let him take you out for the evening for some friendly fun!
The best person to gossip with. You'd think it'd be Portia, but no, Portia's social filter is intact. Julian, on the other hand, will tell you whatever you want to know about and spare no details
Speaking of Portia, it's not uncommon for him to invite her along as well since you fit in with their dynamic so easily. Now you have an honorary brother and an honorary sister!
And oh boy, do you three get into so much trouble together
If you're in a sticky situation and unsure of yourself, call him. He might not have all the answers but that won't stop him from getting involved and suffering through it with you
Asra
The kind of lifelong friend who loves you unconditionally
Has 0 concept of "late." Is it 8 PM? 10 PM? 4 AM? Yeah they're free, what's up? Did you want to hang out? Did you want to process or rant about something? They'll bring tea if you bring snacks
So non-judgemental it's almost concerning sometimes, you could straight up admit to killing someone and he'd just summon a shovel and ask you where the body is without missing a beat
Wherever they're currently residing you are always welcome. No matter the hour or circumstance, if you need a place to crash or just want a change of scenery it's open to you
Of course he won't hesitate to randomly show up at your door to crash at your place either, this goes both ways
Somehow, wherever the two of you might end up hanging out, Asra will 7 times out of 10 find a body of water and suggest swimming in it
Will accidentally forget to tell you when they go out of town and then reappear three weeks later and be genuinely surprised when you're relieved to see them in once piece (they're working on that)
Nadia
Nadia is a jaw-dropping combination of insanely busy and scarily available. After learning what it's like to be lonely once before, she's not doing that again and prioritizes you along with her other friends
For starters, she has a set weekly time for the two of you to meet that she almost never misses and fiercely protects
And that's just the base standard. The palace is permanently open to you, whenever you want to drop by, whether that be to see her or just to enjoy the gardens for a bit
It's a no brainer that she's the best person to ask for fashion advice
There is one thing to bear in mind though - and that is that she is a fixer. She likes to either fix things or come to the conclusion that the issue cannot be currently resolved and then leave it alone
If want someone to verbally process to, you're going to have to let her know that you don't want answers right now, just a listener
That said, if you do want answers, she has them. She has them and she will share them with you and she will help you work through whatever it is that needs your attention
Sends you invitations for every palace event with 0 pressure
Muriel
Muriel has had 1 friend. Now he has 2 and a few acquaintances
So to say that he would move heaven and earth to help you is an understatement. If you need him he's there
Of course, he'd never say that out loud. He still prefers to stay out in the woods, with his chickens and Inanna, and you'll generally have to reach out first if you want to hang out with him
Yes, he will grumble about being forced to be social. Bear with him
Will pretend that he doesn't care about whatever plans or events are going on in your life right now and then stop by a few days later with the most thoughtful, tailored gift to help you perfectly
Which of course he claims he found lying around on the forest floor and just happened to be in town for his monthly errands ... as one does
You won't find this out until the first time you really need a break from chaos, but Muriel extends the special privilege to you of being free to stay at the hut for a day or two if you ever need the solitude
But he'll spend the whole time slowly nudging you into settling what you need to so you can return to your beloved and your normal life
Portia
The bestest bestie you could ever ask for
She is fiercely loyal and down for anything and everything. Sitting side by side in silence? She'll bring a book. Becoming local legends in the Red Market? Sign her up!
You are always welcome at her cottage. If you need to crash, vent, or eat, she's got you covered
And if you're bored and looking for something fun to do? She has a whole list of vaguely reckless ideas to try out
Any of your "bad" ideas is just a good idea in disguise. She will hop on whatever crazy bandwagon you've found and suffer whatever consequences come your way with you (or put them on Ilya)
One of the best confidantes you could ask for. She's a great listener and knows intuitively if it's advice you need or a strong drink and stolen sheet cake
Speaking of advice, she gives the best as far as relationships go
She gives the shovel talk to whichever LI you end up with. That's her bestie, bitch
Will notice when it's been a while since she's heard from you and stop by with a baked treat and a smile. If it's because you've been busy, she'll happily help you with work while you two catch up
Lucio
This is the guy who you'll barely hear from for a week and then stop by your house every few hours for several days in a row
Messages you every time he has a drink to chronicle his party time adventures, which leaves you with some of the most unhinged receipts you've ever had
Never checks ahead of time if you're free, he'll just show up because he felt like doing something fun and wants you to join him so it'll be ten times better
Will act surprised if you're busy
The friend who will jump at any excuse to go out. He is occasionally down for a deeper conversation but he prefers to live in the moment and focus on the good things instead of thinking too much
He develops a strong commitment to being completely honest with you. You're the first one he goes to when he makes an "oopsie" and he will answer any direct question as truthfully as he can
Which is how you also know that his feelings for you walk a fine line between platonic and something more
Don't get him wrong, he respects your decision and supports you! But if you ever find yourself single again, he is right here and ready to be as much as you'll let him
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rei-ismyname · 1 month
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Ororo, how did you get here?
I wonder if we'll get a solid, in character explanation for why Storm would become a cop (Avenger) again. I'm writing an analysis on From The Ashes (so far) and while I'm clear-eyed about where most characters and books are at, I really need to know if they're even going to bother explaining why Storm would leave Arakko (oh yeah, there's still a million mutants on the red planet) and if they do to what degree. Sure she can just bail off screen but it'd be deeply out of character. She's a member of the Great Ring (or at least she was, occupying Magneto's empty Seat of Loss after she yielded the Regency to Lodus Logos.) She's the most impactful political and cultural figure in a generation. She was the leader of the winning faction in the Genesis War. She had a lover, who was caring for two orphans. I think they were living together. She was happy. I can't recall any ties to Atlanta, but it doesn't really matter. Without serious explanation she's going to look fickle, like she's shirking her duty. A duty she chose, too. Fought multiple wars over. She's getting a solo book, there's totally room to do it properly.
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The other big ting for me is Magneto. The First Krakoan age put him through the ringer - his character arc was objectively given the most attention and subjectively the most satisfying. Even without Uncanny X-Men #700 he was poised to shake up the status quo but when you include his chat with Charles that's a promise. A promise that needs to be paid off. Not just any old promise either - it's an ideological breakthrough five decades in the making! He's been kept in the background so far and I haven't really been able to judge whether that promise is being kept or not. I hope so but my expectations are low. It would be such tonal whiplash I can't even think of an analogy.
Interestingly both Max and Ororo were Of Arakko last time we got a close look. Magneto died defending Arakko, he has friends there. He is literally one of the society's heroes for slaying Tarn the Uncaring and The Hour Of Magneto/Judgement Day.
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Yeah, that's right. *AIR HORN* *PUMPS FIST* He cares about the Arakki and they care about him. He'd want to pay his respects to the Fisher King and generally see how it's going. He lost his place on the Great Ring when he died and Vulcan blew up his house, but neither are especially important. Both planet and culture are dear to him. After X of Swords, in that brief period when the Arakki were on Earth, it was Magneto meeting with Isca about teething problems. 'Twas Magneto who spearheaded the Terraforming Operation, handling the communication/logistics and harvesting enough iron to bring the planet to life from the Khyber Belt. While he was doing that, Ororo was fighting Nameless to the death for the Noontide Seat.
I could honestly go on, but my point is these two especially are invested. (Roberto Da Costa too, but it seems the New Mutants are represented by Magik alone and Cypher looking like an idiot.) If that continuity is disregarded I'm going to have a problem with it. Honestly, if Arakko is there and not being used in any stories I'll be scratching my head. How do you go from terraforming planets to hated and feared on Earth as anything other than a regression? The geopolitical implications of it being there pretty much break the world they're selling us. They're telling us it's so dangerous for mutants that they're developing secret hand signals and Underground Railroad'ing. At least some mutants would move to fucking Mars. All countries would be at Defcon 1. Did the entire galactic council just forget Sol exists?
I'll stop there, save some for the actual essay instead of the rant lol. If you're enjoying it I couldn't be happier for you. I am struggling to, though, and I'm very wary of heartbreak. Maybe that's on me for how I manage my expectations. We shall see.
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him-x-her · 5 months
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Vee is for Vampires - Chapter 2
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Author: @sinnysuicide AO3: SinnySioux Vamp!Ville x F!reader Wordcount: 2k + Warnings: Will be smut. 18+ only. Read chapter 2 on AO3. Previous Chapter ❥ Next Chapter ❥ Fic Masterlist
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Chapter 2: “Burn The Hat”
What a strange evening.
I stand in the shower for an eternity, feeling every muscle in my body release its tension. My lungs fill with shower steam. I lazily turn the power off, towel dry my hair and walk sleepily to my bedroom. Once my hair is dry and I’m in my silk pyjamas, I lay back and stare at the ceiling.
As soon as I close my eyes, his green eyes force their way into my vision. His milky white skin. His pink and plump bottom lip, begging to be bitten. I cannot shake the image of him. It feels as though he is next to me, breathing the same air, close enough to kiss… I toss and turn for hours.
“This is fucking ridiculous!” I say out loud, in the darkness, disappointed at myself for my new obsession with the handsome stranger. I imagine him on top of me, my body sinking into the Egyptian cotton as he bites and sucks at my collarbone, and eventually fall asleep.
“Vee? What is Vee short for? Like Vincent fucking Price? I can’t BELIEVE you let him walk you home. He knows where you LIVE now. COMPLETE horror show!” rants Larissa on speakerphone as I gradually begin to lose the will to live.
I sigh heavily at her judgement. I could care less what she thinks. I consider excuses to end the call before she squeals in excitement. “Oh my god! Cute guy from the bar is calling! I gotta go!” and with a click I am alone with my thoughts.
Was it unwise to let him walk me home? I mean, he did rescue me from almost certain sexual assault. That has to count for something.
It’s a lazy Sunday. I clean my apartment, practise a bit of self care, and generally feel utterly restless. I switch on the tv for a bit of background noise.
“Today’s top story: two London men violently murdered. Police appeal for witnesses.”
I spin around on my heel and catch their faces, sure enough, the faces of my two attackers. “Fuck…” I whisper. My heart starts to race. He walked me home; I nearly invited a killer in. At the same time… surely, they deserved it? I didn’t see Vee use a weapon? Maybe they were drunk and choked on their own vomit? Maybe he didn’t mean to kill them?
“Oh god!” it dawns on me; what if I was an accomplice?! This is bad. I need to speak to him; to corroborate our story. How the fuck am I going to find him again? I spend an hour pacing my apartment, thinking about how to find him and talk to him. I decide on driving back to the bar, and looking for him around there. Maybe he would be looking for me too. I try to ignore the voice in my head telling me I am insane and going to get hurt.
I put on a pair of black skinny jeans and a simple black crop top. I need to make a bit of an effort in case I decide to go inside any bars. I put on a matt dark red lipstick and pop it in my clutch purse. I grab my car keys and speed out of the apartment complex.
I sit in the bar car park, uncomfortably close to an array of flowers left on the ground for the two pieces of shit who tried to hurt me. I wonder if the public would be so generous if they knew the type of men they were. I tap my steering wheel nervously, biting the inside of my lip. I sit listening to my favourite band, AFI, allowing the screams of Davey Havok to settle me.
An hour passes, it’s now 9pm. I feel utterly stupid. What are the chances of finding him, really? This is an utter waste of time. I turn the key in the ignition, when suddenly I notice a shadow in my rearview mirror. I turn the engine, and the music, off and listen. I see a man in a flat cap and… are those converse allstars? I swear Vee wore those the other night. I quietly exit my car and stealthily watch him. He chuckles, wiping what looks like blood (?!) from his lip and trudges forward. His balance is off, as though he’s been drinking far too much. Suddenly, he stops and looks up.
“You?” he laughs “Looking for trouble?” He ambles forward as I bite my lip, searching my brain for something witty to say.
“Looks like I found it”, I say, matter of factly, my chin raised to feign confidence. He closes the distance between us with a stride and looks down at me; his eyes that same glittery green, sparkling with curiosity and interest. His gaze drifts down to my lips and my heart starts to quicken. A smile makes his way across his lips as he tilts his head back to take all of me in. His teeth flash white in the dimly lit space.
“What did we say about walking around in the dark, hmm?”, he muses, “Vampires!” his eyes widen and he giggles.
I breathe him in. He smells woody, with a distinct smell of whisky. I think about licking whisky from his skin before I remind myself of the task at hand. “Vee… you killed those guys” I whisper, solemnly.
“Who? Oh, the pigs who tried to touch you against your will? Are you not relieved?” It is hard to argue with this logic.
“I, er, well… yes, but… I’d rather not get arrested for being an accomplice to murder!” I stumble through my words, wondering dismally why the fuck I bothered.
He leans back against my car and laughs wholeheartedly. “Shh, Vee, this is not funny!” I say, exasperated, but also trying not to laugh. He is adorable when drunk. Is this the same man who killed two men the other night? He stumbles and I grab his arm to keep him upright.
“Dammit, Vee, get in the car. I’m taking you home.” I roll my eyes as I open my door and get in.
He giggles again “Will you protect me from vampires? Garlic doesn’t work, just so that you’re aware!” He manages to get in without injuring himself and I sit beside him. I have a killer in my car: now fucking what?
“Okay, um, where do you live?” I ask, unsure if this is a good idea.
“Bloodlust Tower” he answers, unwavering.
“What??” I hiss, a little scared now.
“Beaufort Tower” he replies, grabbing my phone, “Let me type the postcode into your route planner”. I hook my phone to the speaker and my last played song starts again. Type O Negative’s Black No.1 begins to play, and I quickly turn it down, self conscious.
“You like Type O? Not just a beautiful face then!” he exclaims, turning the volume up. I blush furiously and try to maintain my composure as I set off on the 90 minute journey.
“Oh, uh, yeah… I love alternative music but I’m going through a gothic phase at the moment. I guess the sadder the music, the more beautiful it is… to me, at least”. I instantly regret the overshare but Vee leans in, placing a hand on my knee.
“I feel the same. It’s nice that you get it” he sighs, leaning back into his seat, “Music is my safe space. Whenever things get heavy, my guitar is always there for me”. He looks wistful.
“Oh… you play guitar?” I ask, imagining how on Earth this man could be any more attractive to me right now.
“Oh, yeah, um… I used to play professionally, in a band, we toured all over the world but, uh, yeah… that’s over now” he says, solemnly.
“You’ll have to play me something” I say, breaking my driving concentration to look at him and give him an earnest and encouraging smile. I’m certain I see him blush; though it’s hard to tell as he is so pale.
“So… what is Vee short for? Because I’m sure it isn’t Vampire” I laugh.
“What makes you so certain?” He implores.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe just the knowledge that no good mother would name their child fucking Vampire!” he laughs heartily and I join in; the conversation flows and our connection feels so natural.
“It’s, Veel-uh, spelt V-I-L-L-E. It’s, um, it’s Finnish”. So he ISN’T English, I knew it!
“Wow, I’d love to visit Finland. Have you ever seen the northern lights? I can’t imagine anything more beautiful” I sigh.
“I can” he whispers, I look over and we lock eyes for a moment. Oh god, is he flirting? I suddenly feel hot; I need to change the subject.
“So, um, should we talk about the dead guys?” I say, sheepishly.
“Why?” mutters Ville “They’re dead”. I don’t see how he doesn’t think this is a problem.
“Ville…” he takes a sharp intake of breath as his name rolls off my tongue. I pretend not to notice. “I’m scared of being arrested and thrown in prison for a crime I didn’t commit, and I… I guess I’m scared for you too.” I can feel his eyes on me.
“You have nothing to fear, neither of us will be going to prison. Just trust me, okay?” I sigh.
“Okay, okay, I won’t bring it up again.” He smiles.
“Good… because I want to talk about you.” he smirks.
We talk about our tastes in music and find quite a lot of overlap. Ville loves Type O Negative, obviously, and is a total fangirl for Black Sabbath. He tells me he met my favourite band, AFI, at some award show. I half smile because I don’t believe him.
“So you grew up here?” He asks.
“Yeah, not London, but in England. I wish I could say I’ve travelled lots but I really haven’t. I’d love to quit work, travel around Europe….”
“Why don’t you?” he interjects.
“Money” I say honestly “Can’t say I have a sugar daddy, unfortunately” I smirk.
“What about your family? Parents?” asks Ville.
I pause, my heart heavy, “I, er, they died when I was six”.
Stunned, he whispers “I’m so sorry”.
I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Don’t be, I barely remember it” I smile dishonestly. “I think we’re here?” I pull into a large and long gravelled driveway; there are tall black ornate gates. Did I take a wrong turn? There is a keypad for entry.
Ville leans over. “Six six six”, he says.
“Seriously?!” I roll my eyes and type in the code, and drive right in. I pull up outside a grand stately home. It’s dark, and how I long to see it in the light. There is a small fountain out front. I imagine how beautiful this could be in the warm sun.
Ville gets out of the car and walks around the back “Oh, um, you’re really fucking welcome” I mutter, before he opens my door and offers me his hand. “Very gentlemanly” I giggle, taking his hand “Thanks.” I climb out of the car and shut the door. I look up at the tall building in wonderment.
“Are you coming?” Demands Ville, palm outstretched. I take his hand and follow him inside. The hallway is illuminated by a large glass chandelier. I spy a plush dark red velvet chaise longue, a matching soft rug, black candelabras. The mood is dark but romantic.
“Vee is definitely for vampires” I whisper; as Ville laughs out loud.
“Am I that transparent?” he asks.
“I don’t know, let’s ask your gothic decor, shall we?” I smirk, teasing him. I have no idea what the fuck I am doing following a dangerous man into his remote home, but I must admit that part of me would be just fine if he murdered me on the chaise longue by candlelight.
He starts to climb the large wooden staircase, carpeted with - you guessed it - a dark red velvet runner down the middle. Ville turns back and looks at me “Come.” He demands.
My heart sinks. “Ville, I don’t know what kind of woman you think I am but-“
“I owe you a song”, his face softens as he interjects, his lips part, his eyes plead.
“Okay” I say, warily. He takes my hand and leads me upstairs. There are beautiful oil paintings leading up the stair case. Night scenes, moons, woodland creatures on canvas. He is definitely a night owl, in love with all things dark, and I can’t help but find it endearing.
He reaches his large pale hands, adorned with pewter rings, in front of him and thrusts them into two tall wooden double doors. It’s so dark, I blink several times to acclimatise to the void in front of me. Ville reaches in his pocket and moves around the room, clicking his lighter. In a moment, the room is illuminated by beautiful black candlesticks. The walls are red, of course they are. Another chaise longue. A beautiful double mirrored vintage black wardrobe. In front of me is a huge four poster bed. The ornate wood is black, the sheets are what look like dark red silk. Everything about this room is elegant, but I can’t shake the air of loneliness that lingers within the walls.
“Take a seat, my darling” he purrs, and walks to the corner of the room. He removes his blazer jacket, throwing it to the ground. He’s wearing a black vest, his luscious milky skin glowing in contrast. I notice the swirling pattern of thorns down one arm; a beautiful intricate tattoo sleeve. I perch on the chaise longue, fearing that lying on his bed would send the wrong message. I’m not about to sleep with him at the drop of a hat, no matter how attractive he is. He grabs an acoustic guitar from one of several stands: he has quite the collection, and walks towards me.
He stops a couple metres from me and sits down cross legged. He tunes his guitar whilst my eyes wander. I realise he’s removed the hat and he has the most beautiful darkened curls of hair. I imagine running my hands through them as his face is buried in my… Christ, I need to get a grip. All of a sudden he begins to play;
“You can't escape the wrath of my heart
Beating to your funeral song
All faith is lust for hell regained
And love dust in the hands of shame
Let me bleed you this song of my heart deformed
Lead you along this path in the dark
Where I belong until I feel your warmth
Hold me like you held on to life
When all fears came alive and entombed me
Love me like you loved the sun
Scorching the blood in my vampire heart
I'll be the thorns in every rose
You've been sent by hope
I am the nightmare waking you up
From the dream of a dream of love
Let me weep you this poem as heaven's gates close
Paint you my soul scarred and alone
Waiting for your kiss to take me back home
Hold me like you held on to life
When all fears came alive and entombed me
Love me like you loved the sun
Scorching the blood in my vampire heart”
As he sings, I feel his pain. He closes his eyes and bares his soul. He has a deep voice when he speaks, but when he sings his range is amplified. The hairs on my neck stand on end and my skin tingles. I just want to hold him; to comfort him.
“Ville… that was…” I am breathless “that was beautiful.” He looks up and smiles wistfully at me. Spontaneously, I stand and walk over to him. I kneel in front of him and wrap my arms around him. His back is stiff and strong beneath my palms. The smell of whiskey still lingering. He does not move. My fingertips reach up to caress the curls at the back of his head and I bury my face in his neck. “Ville… who hurt you?” My voice breaking; his body softens and his large hands make their way around my back.
He nuzzles into my neck and sighs deeply. Whispering, he says “I have been lonely for so, so long. I have spent years holding on to the faintest hope that love would find me…” I tense my arms to hold him tighter and he begins to pull away.
His hands grasp my shoulders lightly. He pulls away from my neck to look into my eyes. His face is a mere inch from mine. His beautiful green eyes searching mine for something. “Who ARE you?” he implores.
I blush “What do you mean?”
His eyes drop to my lips. “Where have you been, baby?” I stop breathing. The world stands still. His lips crash into mine.
Our lips move together as he tilts his head. I feel him run his tongue lightly between my lips, begging for entry. I open my mouth to take a small breath and his tongue claims mine. Lapping, massaging, caressing my tongue with his. His hands on my back become heavier as he pulls me toward him; removing the small gap between our bodies. My knees find themselves either side of Ville’s waist as I straddle his lap. I run my fingers through his hair, pulling, teasing. Suddenly, Ville breaks the kiss “I can’t!” he pleads, looking torn.
“W-what?” I whisper, dejected.
“You deserve more than this, a sober man for starters. You are far too good for me-“ I silence him with my index finger on his lips.
“Shh” I soothe him “You are enough; don’t try to convince me - or anyone - that you are less.” I kiss his forehead lovingly and he lets out a contented sigh.
Again, he whispers “Where have you been, baby? I wanted you for so long”. He looks into my eyes with yearning. “I’ve been here, waiting for you. Only you, Ville.”
His bright eyes and smile light the darkness around us. “Let’s not do this on the floor” smirks Ville as he pulls me to stand and walks me to the foot of his enormous bed. My hand begins to shake in his as my anxiety makes itself known to him. Ville strokes his hand up and down my arm as comfort; “I’m not expecting anything at all. I just want you to feel comfortable”. We sit on the edge of the bed and he cups my face with his pale hands, and kisses me sweetly. I kick off my boots and shuffle up the bed. He follows suit and we lie, arms wrapped around each other, exploring our mouths with our tongues.
My fingers wrapping around his curls, he giggles. “You like the hair, huh?” He asks.
“Mmm” I reply “Burn the hat”; he smiles into our kiss.
I lean back to look at him. His eye lashes are longer than I realised up close. There are tiny wrinkles either side of his eyes from smiling and laughing. He has a slight stubble and soft, plump, pink lips; a bright white grin and beautiful emerald green irises. My fingers travel the thorn sleeve from his wrist to his elbow. He shivers and closes his eyes. “What?” I smile.
“You” he replies “Your touch, your skin…” he signs as his eyes wander “I am demonstrating excellent self restraint right now”. He grins wickedly.
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Please, baby” he sighs “I’m trying to be a gentleman”.
We spend hours talking about our hopes, our dreams, touching, giggling, kissing. He promises to take me to Finland; and to play me a song every morning on his guitar. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him, nuzzling into the back of my neck, and we fall asleep in each others arms.
I have never slept so well in my life. I roll over to find Ville on his back, still sleeping. It’s still so dark in his room but I can see a strip of white light around the black out curtains. It must be morning. I gently sneak out of bed to grab my purse and find my phone. I have a couple of hours before work, so I have a half hour or so to snuggle with Ville. I crawl into bed on all fours, trying to wake Ville with light kisses on his forehead, temples, cheeks.
“Wow, you sleep like the dead!” I mutter. I place my palm on his shoulder and shake him gently. “Wake up, I have work soon” I purr. I dial the sensuality up a notch and start to lick and nip at his neck. He jolts and his limbs stiffen. I trail the tip of my tongue from his neck, up and around his jawline, until I reach his bottom lip. I nip it slightly with my teeth and he grabs both of my wrists and swiftly twists himself on top of me.
His eyes are not green, but dark. He kisses me deeply, but I sense something is off. He’s silent, he’s rough… something is not right.
“Ville… stop!”. He grabs my jaw with his hand and forces it aside. He moves to my neck and bites down. I feel his sharp teeth and scream.
He jolts back, as if woken from a dream. His eyes are light green and wide; his mouth crimson with my blood “Oh god… FUCK… I am so sorry!” He loosens his grip and I scramble from the bed, grabbing my heels and my purse.
I am trembling and crying and running through the darkness. HOW is his home this dark?!? I reach the front door and hear him running down the staircase. “Please! I’m sorry! Let me explain!” My legs threaten to give way underneath me as I hesitate, part of me wanting to give him a chance. My neck hurts and I place pressure on it. I move my hand in front of me and gasp at the bloody mess on my fingertips. He reaches a hand towards me and I shove my hip into the door with full force. It swings open and the sunlight bears down on his arm; I watch his pallid skin sizzle and smoke in the bright light. He screams in pain and falls backward and I run to my car. I pull the door open, fling my belongings into the passenger seat and lock the doors. The adrenaline pumping through my body, I drive fast towards the large ornate gates. I type in 666 and speed away from this nightmare, a flurry of tears raining across my steering wheel and my lap. I hear myself sobbing but I persevere until I am home.
I rush into my flat, lock the door and fall to the floor; I cry and cry until I am empty. I step into the bathroom and observe the damage. Two puncture wounds on my neck. Just when I am sure I have no tears left, I begin to cry again. I cleanse the wound and flinch at the sting. I bandage myself up the best that I can, lie face down on my bed, and sob until I pass out.
AO3: SinnySioux; more to come 🦇
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feelin-lo · 2 years
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@aesopsbaby
Your little head cannon from anon, made me go feral. This is my retaliation. This is really rushed and is really bad so I'm sorry not sorry, this is motivation at its finest.
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Blades clashed, blood was spilled, but whos?
A little backstory. Elves, high or not, work on a principal. If they stray too far from that principal then they change. That's what Orcs and Goblins are. A sub species of Elves that have "fallen from grace" per se.
And that day, Orcs ambushed the team, no one was injured, badly at least... but, for some reason, Raloris was silent for once. After they were all dead, he looked down at the bodies of orcs, silent, it was unsettling. None of them knew what was going on in Ralo's head, they never did, but Celtic, he had an idea. Celtic always knew. After that moment they had shared a few nights ago, that intoxicating passion under the glory of a meteor shower, Celtic could almost read Ralo's thoughts, just through how the man held himself.
He didn't even utter a word for hours, and it scared everyone, normally he was so loud and funny, even when he was low. They finally reached a familiar tavern, they went into their rooms and unpacked before coming downstairs again and sharing a round of drinks. Ralo sat alone, staring into the still full cup of Rum, hours after it was poured.
He was uneasy, and that made Celtic uneasy.
Suddenly, Raloris stood up and left, leaving his belongings but taking his weapons, and leaving the tavern. Celtic stood, walking to where Ralo sat and saw a sight he wasn't expecting, blood on the table and bits of cloth on the chair, that's when Celtic followed the High elf outside. He was shirtless, his shirt, cape and various dangling bits were all folded in a pile. He kept swinging at the training dummies with his polearm that were outside, he was muttering to himself and then shouting at himself, no one inside would hear him though, it's too loud.
"YOU WANNA END UP LIKE THEM?! WELL GUESS WHAT YOU USELESS SACK OF SHIT, YOU CANT. YOU ARENT EVEN WORTHY OF WHAT OUR ANCESTORS MADE OF US!" He yelled, cutting deeper into the dummy "NO WONDER FATHER HATED YOU SO MUCH! YOU CANT EVEN JUSTIFY IT." He kept going "THIS IS WHY NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOU!"
And with that, he decapitated the dummy, the stuffed head, hitting the floor. Raloris fell to his knees, sniffling, like he was crying. Since he wasn't moving anymore, Celtic got closer, able to get a better look of his teammates body, his arms and hands were decorated with bites while his torso was painted with seals and tomes.
A little Elven history lesson, like most creatures, Elves had a "Medieval" moment in their development. That was around 100 years ago, Raloris was about 21. It was right after his father died, since he was driven to madness, elves didn't know how to cure him. So they turned to their god for assistance. Painting Raloris with seals and tomes to seal the madness away.
"Raloris?" Celtic said, kneeling down and reaching a hand out, but stopping before his hand touched skin. "What?" Ralo sniffled, turning to meet Celtic's gaze "What's going on? You can talk to me you know." He said carefully.
"Do you know what Orcs are, Celtic?" Ralo asked, turning to meet him fully "Yeah, I'm aware, did it upset you when we killed them?" The leader asked but was met with a headshake "No. It just... It made me think." "That's dangerous"
"Why haven't I become a Half Orc yet? I'm so far from the ideals of my race. A disgrace to High elven kind. I'm not worthy, I'm not ANYTHING. IM NOT EVEN GIVEN THE FUCKING TIME OF DAY BY THEM!" he ranted, biting into his lip, with such a force that it drew blood, it dropped down his chin and down his chest with how deep it was.
"Elves are built upon Wisdom, correct? the quality of having experience, knowledge, and good judgement; the quality of being wise. You. Are wise. Despite being driven so badly into mental instability, you are still so so wise." Celtic said, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaning the blood, feeling the soft skin of the High elf "You know what the highest form of Wisdom is?" Celtic asked the crying Raloris, who shook his head in response "Kindness. It's kindness"
Celtic stood, helping Ralo up and grabbing his clothes "Let's go inside, you need an early night it seems"
Once they were in Celtics room, Ralo was a little safer in mind, he felt warm, soft "I have a question Raloris" Celtic said, approaching the still shirtless elf "do you... think, about that night. Where we kissed... more than once?" He asked, looking deep into the emerald of Ralo's eyes "How could I not? I've nearly had a quarter of my life and that's only happened to me once and it was you. It's always been you." Ralo confessed, slipping his shirt back on.
"You were calm." Celtic commented, sitting down on the bed, tapping the sheets, indicating to the Elf to sit down. And he did, slowly setting himself down on the sheets, closing his eyes and sighing.
"You bite yourself a Lot, you know?" Celtic commented, sliding his hand up the forearm of the manic, lining every scar and indent. With his other hand, he went from Ralo's shoulder blades and slowly glided down, tracing his back untill he was at his waist, then lower back but never further. They agreed on that boundary ages ago. "Let's get some sleep ok?" Celtic smiled, well, tried to smile, pulling back the quilt and watching as Ralo slid in, quiet as he went.
"Ralo... Earlier, you said that No one cares about you"
Raloris looked up at that, meeting the amber in his leader's eyes "Can I show you something?"
The elf nodded.
Celtic sat on Raloris' lap, sliding down and pulling the quilt over them, he then pressed his Lips to Raloris again, tasting what he did a few days ago, and wondering why it was so sweet. Ralo returned the favour, taking Celtic deeper, he was holding his tongue in his teeth, nibbling on it, but never hard enough to hurt, they kissed again and again an again, time slowly dissapeared around them, neither man caring about where they were or if anyone saw them. Celtic was focused on calming Raloris down, while the elf just held on for dear life, letting his leader do as he saw fit. He was the wise one after all.
Soon, all of their respective visions melted away as their entire worlds became... Eachother.
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Chapter 2: Burn the Hat
What a strange evening.
I stand in the shower for an eternity, feeling every muscle in my body release its tension. My lungs fill with shower steam. I lazily turn the power off, towel dry my hair and walk sleepily to my bedroom. Once my hair is dry and I’m in my silk pyjamas, I lay back and stare at the ceiling.
As soon as I close my eyes, his green eyes force their way into my vision. His milky white skin. His pink and plump bottom lip, begging to be bitten. I could not shake the image of him. It felt as though he was next to me, breathing the same air, close enough to kiss… I tossed and turned for hours.
“This is fucking ridiculous!” I say out loud, in the darkness, disappointed at myself for my new obsession with the handsome stranger. I imagine him on top of me, my body sinking into the Egyptian cotton as he bites and sucks at my collarbone, and eventually fall asleep.
“Vee? What is Vee short for? Like Vincent fucking Price? I can’t BELIEVE you let him walk you home. He knows where you LIVE now. COMPLETE horror show!” rants Larissa on speakerphone as I gradually began to lose the will to live.
I sigh heavily at her judgement. I could care less what she thinks. I consider excuses to end the call before she squeals in excitement. “Oh my god! Cute guy from the bar is calling! I gotta go!” and with a click I am alone with my thoughts.
Was it unwise to let him walk me home? I mean, he did rescue me from almost certain sexual assault. That has to count for something.
It’s a lazy Sunday. I clean my apartment, practise a bit of self care, and generally feel utterly restless. I switch on the tv for a bit of background noise.
“Tonight’s top story: two London men violently murdered. Police appeal for witnesses.”
I spin around on my heel and catch their faces, sure enough, the faces of my two attackers. “Fuck…” I whisper. My heart starts to race. He walked me home; I nearly invited a killer in. At the same time… surely, they deserved it? I didn’t see Vee use a weapon? Maybe they were drunk and choked on their own vomit? Maybe he didn’t mean to kill them? “Oh god!” it dawned on me; what if I was an accomplice?! This was bad. I needed to speak to him; to corroborate our story. How the fuck was I going to find him again? I spent an hour pacing my apartment, thinking about how to find him and talk to him. I decided I would drive back to the bar, and look for him around there. Maybe he would be looking for me too. I tried to ignore the voice in my head telling me I was insane and going to get hurt.
I put on a pair of black skinny jeans, studded Valentino heels and a simple black Bardot crop top. I needed to make a bit of an effort in case I decided to go inside any bars. I put on a Matt dark red lipstick and then popped it in my clutch purse. I grabbed my car keys and sped out of the apartment complex.
I sat in the bar car park, uncomfortably close to an array of flowers left on the ground for the two pieces of shit who tried to hurt me. I wonder if the public would be so generous if they knew the type of men they were. I tapped my steering wheel nervously, biting the inside of my lip. I sat listening to my favourite band, AFI, I allowed the screams of Davey Havok to settle me.
An hour passed, now it was 9pm. I felt utterly stupid. What were the chances of finding him, really? This was an utter waste of time. I turn the key in the ignition, when suddenly I notice a shadow in my rearview mirror. I turn the engine, and the music, off and listen. I see a man in a flat cap and… are those converse allstars? I swear Vee wore those the other night. I quietly exit my car and stealthily watch him. He chuckles, wiping what looks like blood (?!) from his lip and trudges forward. His balance is off, as though he’s been drinking far too much. Suddenly, he stops and looks up.
“You?” he laughs “Looking for trouble?” He ambles forward as I bite my lip, searching my brain for something witty to say. “Looks like I found it” I say, matter of factly. He closes the distance between us with a stride and looks down at me. His eyes that same glittery green, sparkling with curiosity and interest. His gaze drifts down to my lips and my heart starts to quicken. A smile makes his way across his lips as he tilts his head back to take all of me in. His teeth flash white in the dimly lit space. “What did we say about walking around in the dark, hmm?” he muses “Vampires!” his eyes widen and he giggles.
I breathe him in. He smells woody, with a distinct smell of whisky. I think about licking whisky from his skin before I remind myself of the task at hand. “Vee… you killed those guys” I whisper, solemnly. “Who? Oh, the pigs who tried to touch you against your will? Are you not relieved?” It was hard to argue with this logic. “I, er, well… yes, but… I’d rather not get arrested for being an accomplice to murder!”
He leans back against my car and laughs wholeheartedly. “Shh, Vee, this is not funny!” I say, exasperated, but also trying not to laugh. He is adorable when drunk. Is this the same man who killed two men the other night? He stumbles and I grab his arm to keep him upright. “Dammit, Vee, get in the car. I’m taking you home.” He giggles again “Will you protect me from vampires? Garlic doesn’t work, just so that you’re aware!” He manages to get in without injuring himself and I sit beside him. I have a killer in my car; now fucking what?
“Okay, um, where do you live?” I ask, unsure if this is a good idea. “Bloodlust Tower” he answers, unwavering. “What??” I hiss, a little scared now. “Beaufort Tower” he replies, grabbing my phone “Let me type the postcode into your route planner”. I hook my phone to the speaker and my last played song starts again. Type O Negative’s Black No.1 begins to play, and I quickly turn it down, self conscious. “You like Type O? Not just a beautiful face then!” he exclaims, turning the volume up. I blush furiously and try to maintain my composure as I set off on the 90 minute journey. “Oh, uh, yeah… I love alternative music but I’m going through a goth phase at the moment. I guess the sadder the music, the more beautiful it is… to me, at least”. I instantly regret the overshare but Vee leans in, placing a hand on my knee, “I feel the same. It’s nice that you get it” he sighs, leaning back into his seat, “Music is my safe space. Whenever things get too heavy, my guitar will always be there for me”. He looks wistful. “Oh… you play guitar?” I ask, imagining how on Earth this man could be any more attractive to me right now. “Oh, yeah, um… I used to play professionally, in a band, we toured all over the world but, uh, yeah… that’s over now” he says, solemnly. “You’ll have to play me something” I say, breaking my driving concentration to look at him and give him an earnest and encouraging smile. I’m certain it made him blush; though it’s hard to tell as he is so pale.
“So… what is Vee short for? Because I’m sure it isn’t Vampire” I laugh. “What makes you so certain?” He implores. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe just the knowledge that no good mother would name their child fucking Vampire!” he laughs heartily and I join in; the conversation flows and our connection feels so natural. “It’s, Veel-uh, spelt V-I-L-L-E. It’s, um, it’s Finnish”. So he ISN’T English, I knew it! “Wow, I’d love to visit Finland. Have you ever seen the northern lights? I can’t imagine anything more beautiful” I sigh. “I can” he whispers, I look over and we lock eyes for a moment. Oh god, is he flirting? I suddenly feel hot; I need to change the subject.
“So, um, should we talk about the dead guys?” I say, sheepishly. “Why?” mutters Ville “They’re dead”. I don’t see how he doesn’t think this is a problem. “Ville…” he takes a sharp intake of breath as his name rolls off my tongue. I pretend not to notice. “I’m scared of being arrested and thrown in prison for a crime I didn’t commit, and I… I guess I’m scared for you too.” I can feel his eyes on me. “You have nothing to fear, neither of us will be going to prison. Just trust me, okay?” I sigh “Okay, okay, I won’t bring it up again.” He smiles “Good… because I want to talk about you.” he smirks.
We talk about our tastes in music and find quite a lot of overlap. Ville loves Type O Negative, obviously, and is a total fangirl for Black Sabbath. He tells me he met my favourite band, AFI, at some award show. I half smile because I don’t believe him.
“So you grew up here?” He asks. “Yeah, not London, but in England. I wish I could say I’ve travelled lots but I really haven’t. I’d love to quit work, travel around Europe”… “Why don’t you?” he interjects. “Money” I say honestly “Can’t say I have a sugar daddy, unfortunately” I smirk. “What about your parents?” asks Ville. I pause, my heart heavy, “I, er, they died when I was six”. Stunned, he whispers “I’m so sorry”. I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear “Don’t be, I barely remember it” I smile dishonestly. “I think we’re here?” I pull into a large and long gravelled driveway; there are tall black ornate gates. Did I take a wrong turn? There is a keypad for entry. Ville leans over “Six six six” he says. “Seriously?!” I roll my eyes and type in the code, and drive right in. I pull up outside a grand stately home. It’s dark, and how I long to see it in the light. There is a small fountain out front. I imagine how beautiful this could be in the warm sun.
Ville gets out of the car and walks around the back “Oh, um, you’re really fucking welcome” I mutter before he opens my door and offers me his hand. “Very gentlemanly” I giggle, taking his hand “Thanks.” I climb out of the car and shut the door. I look up at the tall building in wonderment. “Are you coming?” Demands Ville, palm outstretched. I take his hand and follow him inside. The hallway is illuminated by a large glass chandelier. I spy a plush dark red velvet chaise longue, a matching soft rug, black candelabras. The mood is dark but romantic. “Vee is definitely for vampires” I whisper; as Ville laughs out loud. “Am I that transparent?” he asks. “I don’t know, let’s ask your gothic decor, shall we?” I smirk, teasing him. I have no idea what the fuck I am doing following a dangerous man into his remote home, but i must admit that part of me would be just fine if he murdered me on the chaise longue by candlelight.
He starts to climb the large wooden staircase, carpeted with - you guessed it - a dark red velvet runner down the middle. Ville turns back and looks at me “Come.” He demands.
My heart sinks. “Ville, I don’t know what kind of woman you think I am but-“
“I owe you a song” his face softens as he interjects, his lips part, his eyes plead. “Okay” I say, warily. He takes my hand and leads me upstairs. There are beautiful oil paintings leading up the stair case. Night scenes, moons, woodland creatures on canvas. He is definitely a night owl, in love with all things dark, and I can’t help but find it endearing.
He reaches his large pale hands, adorned with pewter rings, in front of him and thrusts them into two tall wooden double doors. It’s so dark, I blink several times to acclimatise to the void in front of me. Ville reaches in his pocket and moves around the room, clicking his lighter. In a moment, the room is illuminated by beautiful black candlesticks. The walls are red, of course they are. Another chaise longue. A beautiful double mirrored vintage black wardrobe. In front of me is a huge four poster bed. The ornate wood is black, the sheets are what look like dark red silk. Everything about this room is elegant, but I can’t shake the air of loneliness that lingers within the walls.
“Take a seat, my darling” he purrs, and walks to the corner of the room. He removes his blazer jacket, throwing it to the ground. He’s wearing a black vest, his luscious milky skin glowing in contrast. I notice the swirling pattern of thorns down one arm; a beautiful intricate tattoo sleeve. I perch on the chaise longue, fearing that lying on his bed would send the wrong message. I’m not about to sleep with him at the drop of a hat, no matter how attractive he is. He grabs an acoustic guitar from one of several stands: he has quite the collection, and walks towards me. He stops a couple metres from me and sits down cross legged. He tunes his guitar whilst my eyes wander. I realise he’s removed the hat and he has the most beautiful darkened curls of hair. I imagine running my hands through them as his face is buried in my… Christ, I need to get a grip. All of a sudden he begins to play;
“You can't escape the wrath of my heart
Beating to your funeral song
All faith is lust for hell regained
And love dust in the hands of shame
Let me bleed you this song of my heart deformed
Lead you along this path in the dark
Where I belong until I feel your warmth
Hold me like you held on to life
When all fears came alive and entombed me
Love me like you loved the sun
Scorching the blood in my vampire heart
I'll be the thorns in every rose
You've been sent by hope
(You'll grow cold)
I am the nightmare waking you up
From the dream of a dream of love
(Just like before)
Let me weep you this poem as heaven's gates close
Paint you my soul scarred and alone
Waiting for your kiss to take me back home
Hold me like you held on to life
When all fears came alive and entombed me
Love me like you loved the sun
Scorching the blood in my vampire heart”
As he sings, I feel his pain. He closes his eyes and bares his soul. He has a deep voice when he speaks, but when he sings his range is amplified. The hairs on my neck stand on end and my skin tingles. I just want to hold him; to comfort him.
“Ville… that was…” I am breathless “that was beautiful.” He looks up and smiles wistfully at me. Spontaneously, I stand and walk over to him. I kneel in front of him and wrap my arms around him. His back is stiff and strong beneath my palms. The smell of whiskey still lingering. He does not move. My fingertips reach up to caress the curls at the back of his neck and I bury my face in his neck. “Ville… who hurt you?” My voice breaking; his body softens and his large hands make their way around my back. He nuzzles into my neck and sighs deeply. Whispering, he says “I have been lonely for so, so long. I have spent years holding on to the faintest hope that love would find me, hold me…” I tense my arms to hold him tighter and he begins to pull away. His hands grasp my shoulders lightly. He pulls away from my neck to look into my eyes. His face is a mere inch from mine. His beautiful green eyes searching mine for something. “Who ARE you?” he implores. I blush “What do you mean?” His eyes drop to my lips, “Where have you been, baby?” I stop breathing. The world stands still. His lips crash into mine.
Our lips move together as he tilts his head. I feel him run his tongue lightly between my lips, begging for entry. I open my mouth to take a small breath and his tongue claims mine. Lapping, massaging, caressing my tongue with his. His hands on my back become heavier as he pulls me toward him; removing the small gap between our bodies. My knees find themselves either side of Ville’s waist as I straddle his lap. I run my fingers through his hair, pulling, teasing. Suddenly, Ville breaks the kiss “I can’t” he pleads, looking torn.
“W-what?” I whisper, dejected. “You deserve more than this, a sober man for starters. You are far too good for me-“ I silence him with my index finger on his lips “Shh” I soothe him “You are enough; don’t try to convince me - or anyone - that you are less.” I kiss his forehead lovingly and he lets out a contented sigh. Again, he whispers “Where have you been, baby? I wanted you for so long”. He looks into my eyes with yearning. “I’ve been here, waiting for you. Only you, Ville” his bright eyes and smile light the darkness around us. “Let’s not do this on the floor” smirks Ville as he pulls me to stand and walks me to the foot of his enormous bed. My hand begins to shake in his as my anxiety makes itself known to him. Ville strokes his hand up and down my arm as comfort; “I’m not expecting anything at all. I just want you to feel comfortable”. We sit on the edge of the bed and he cups my face with his pale hands, and kisses me sweetly. I kick off my heels and shuffle up the bed. He follows suit and we lie, arms wrapped around each other, exploring our mouths with our tongues. My fingers wrapping around his curls, he giggles. “You like the hair, huh?” He asks. “Mmm” I reply “Burn the hat”; he smiles into our kiss.
I lean back to look at him. His eye lashes are longer than I realised up close. There are tiny wrinkles either side of his eyes from smiling and laughing. He has a slight stubble and soft, plump, pink lips; a bright white grin and beautiful emerald green irises. My fingers travel the thorn sleeve from his wrist to his elbow. He shivers and closes his eyes. “What?” I smile. “You” he replies “Your touch, your skin…” he signs as his eyes wander “I am demonstrating excellent self restraint right now”. He grins wickedly. “Oh?” I raise an eyebrow. “Please, baby” he sighs “I’m trying to be a gentleman”. We spend hours talking about our hopes, our dreams, touching, giggling, kissing. He promises to take me to Finland; and to play me a song every morning on his guitar. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him, nuzzling into the back of my neck, and we fall asleep in each others arms.
I have never slept so well in my life. I roll over to find Ville on his back, still sleeping. It’s still so dark in his room but I can see a strip of white light around the black out curtains. It must be morning. I gently sneak out of bed to grab my purse and find my phone. I have a couple of hours before work, so I have a half hour or so to snuggle with Ville. I crawl into bed on all fours, trying to wake Ville with light kisses on his forehead, temples, cheeks. “Wow, you sleep like the dead” I mutter. I place my palm on his shoulder and shake him gently. “Wake up, I have work soon” I purr. I dial the sensuality up a notch and start to lick and nip at his neck. He jolts and his limbs stiffen. I trail the tip of my tongue from his neck, up and around his jawline, until I reach his bottom lip. I nip it slightly with my teeth and he grabs both of my wrists and swiftly twists himself on top of me. His eyes are not green… they are dark. He kisses me deeply, but I sense something is off. He’s silent, he’s rough… something is not right. “Ville… stop”. He grabs my jaw with his hand and forces it aside. He moves to my neck and bites down. I feel his sharp teeth and scream. He jolts back, as if woken from a dream. His eyes are light green and wide; his mouth crimson with my blood “Oh god… FUCK… I am so sorry” he loosens his grip and I scramble from the bed, grabbing my heels and my purse. I am trembling and crying and running through the darkness. HOW is his home this dark?!? I reach the front door and hear him running down the staircase. “Please! I’m sorry! Let me explain!” My legs threaten to give way underneath me as I hesitate, part of me wanting to give him a chance. My neck hurts and I place pressure on it. I move my hand in front of me and gasp at the bloody mess on my fingertips. He reaches a hand towards me and I push my hips into the door with full force. It swings open and the sunlight bears down on his arm; I watch his pallid skin sizzle and smoke in the bright light. He screams in pain and falls backward and I run to my car. I pull the door open, fling my belongings into the passenger seat and lock the doors. My adrenaline still going, I drive fast towards the large ornate gates. I type in 666 and speed away from this nightmare, a flurry of tears raining across my steering wheel and my lap. I hear myself sobbing but I persevere until I am home. I rush into my flat, lock the door and fall to the floor; I cry and cry until I am empty. I step into the bathroom and observe the damage. Two puncture wounds on my neck. Just when I am sure I have no tears left, I begin to cry again. I cleanse the wound and flinch at the sting. I bandage myself up the best that I can, lie face down on my bed, and sob until I pass out.
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stardustzz · 3 years
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Hellraiser First Watch
I went in blind, though since I had just binged several classic slasher movie series, I was somewhat expecting something in the slasher genre. That is not what I got, at all. I was confused and a bit bored in the middle; it is a slower movie by today's standards. Once things kicked into gear around when Kirsty found Frank, I was into it and having a good time. Afterwards I thought about it, started putting together the plot and themes, and said huh, not what I thought I was getting but great movie. Very different from much of the standard 80’s horror stuff I’ve seen.
Then I binged all of the sequels not knowing how bad it would get. Yep... quick-ish thoughts on all of them, having only seen them once thus far:
(Long post is long)
Hellraiser: Fascinating once I saw it for what it was. Love it. The special effects were awesome. Gods, I love old school practical effects, and I was impressed with Hellraiser’s. Unlike what I expected, the villains were not the Cenobites, contrary to the vibes Pinhead is giving on the cover, all snarly. Pinhead was very controlled, regal even, with some of the best lines in that commanding, awesome voice. No snarling. The bad guys were the humans. Frank and Julia brought the insanity down on and ultimately destroyed the family. Fan of Kirsty gimme that box, Steve! You don’t know what you’re doing! Cotton. Final Girls tend to be high schoolers/teenagers, so I found it refreshing that Kirsty is in her early 20s. It’s never specified but that's how I read it. The bit that struck me was “This is not for your eyes.” Pinhead prevents Frank from stabbing Kirsty, then gives her a chance to spare herself from the horror of what comes next? That just stuck with me.
Hellbound: I knew what I was getting into this time, and I love this one too. The practical effects were great again. Skinless Julia was just gorgeous. There's a whole other dimension with cube God Leviathan? The Cenobites were human? That is exactly my jam. Give me all of the lore and worldbuilding potential. More please. Frank is still gross, and Julia has fully embraced the dark side, hasn’t she? They can both stay in their cells. I don’t quite understand what was going on with Channard. He got Cenobite-ified and just went on a rampage. Kirsty, the picture, and Pinhead; it was this sudden shift in how he sees himself and how they see each other and all these subtle emotions between them. I need to watch that scene like ten more times. Then Channard showed up and Pinhead, the iconic face of Hellraiser, just… died. Didn’t expect that. I read later that Julia was supposed to be the primary antagonist of the series going forward, which explains why that happened. Then fans decided no thanks! We’ll take the Lead Cenobite.
HR3: Aw, no Kirsty, just Pinhead stuck in stone. Like a gargoyle or some shit. They had to bring him back to life somehow. Terri was totally gay for Joey; you cannot convince me otherwise. The whole Pinhead/Elliot, ego/id soul split was explained, but Pinhead's change in characterization was still very jarring. I was thinking “what Hollywood exec got their mits on this and went slasher with it?” Ironic considering I watched HR1 expecting slasher. Not as good as the first two but also not bad IMO. I think it would have been more emotionally impactful if it had been Kirsty, considering her and Pinhead’s history.
HR4: Gods, why were they in space? That was some Jason X bs, except I liked Jason X because it was wonderfully ridiculous. HR4 was not. So the box, a literal gateway to another plane of existence, was built by some 17th century French toymaker? That is anticlimactic. The Christian-y rituals and demon stuff was not it. There’s been Christian imagery in the movies, but please don’t go full Christian mythology. Pinhead still felt more HR3 rather than HR1&2 though he's supposed to be merged back together. He’s not nearly as interesting when he’s been dumbed down to just another movie bad guy. If I remember right, there was some cliche villain-stroking-a-cat except it was a pigeon.
HR5: I was so confused until the very end. I liked the psychological horror vibe as a departure from whatever HR4 was. The time loop torture used on the main character cop guy, I don’t even remember his name, was different from the usual getting ripped apart with chains. Dude deserved it. I’m not sure it’s Hellraiser, and I think I read somewhere the script wasn’t written to be Hellraiser, so that’d explain a lot. 
HR6: This one felt like HR5 with the psychological horror vibe again. Except there’s like five minutes of Kirsty, and oh, she murdered some folks. I can with confidence say Trevor sucks, did not deserve Kirsty. Pinhead was having none of his crap.
HR7: Deaders. Could you have picked a stupider name for your death cult? There was more lamerchant stuff. It was boring in HR4, and it’s more boring now. The reporter main character died, but didn’t, then killed herself? I still don't really know what the plot was, but I don’t care much.
HR8: Oh. We're doing the video game/meta thing? That’s a dumb premise, and I didn’t really want to watch this one, but I did. I was cringing so hard. Is that Henry Cavill? Is that Lance Henriksen? I don’t remember any of the characters’ names. I don’t even remember who lived and who died. I spent the movie thinking what is happening, is it a video game but also real? Oh, they're on drugs. There are ways to make a good meta film(Wes Craven's New Nightmare) Hellworld is not one of them.
HR9: Hey, that's not Doug Bradley! It's not the actor’s fault he looks like that, but every time he was on screen, I was taken out of the movie so hard. Was this supposed to be a remake? A reboot? Either way it fell on its face. Completely missed the themes, intricacies, and meaning of HR1. It was just your standard people trapped and being terrorized by a murderer, plus some incest for shock value. I guess it was for shock value. Don’t makeout with your brother, folks. According to Wikipedia, HR9, and 10, was made just so the studio would keep the rights. That never goes well. See Fantastic Four (2015).
HR10: Gods dammit. I nearly turned this one off a few times. What happened to the fascinating, wonderful universe set up in HR1 & 2? Don't do the angels and demons/heaven versus hell thing. It's so old, tired, and overdone and not what Hellraiser is. Leave that song and dance to John Constantine and the thousand+ Christian mythology movies. The best part was that angel chick getting shredded. I hope there's not a direct sequel.
After all that, I have henceforth decided to ignore everything after HR3 because, as I like to say, have you heard of our lord and savior: Fuck Canon? I do what I want.
Wanting some fan discussion and meta, I did a Tumblr dive. It’s not something I do often because many “fans” of things are crazy. My last dive was for Netflix’s She-Ra and yikes was that was a bloodbath. I found some good Hellraiser content and blogs, and I have been combing through them. I think I’ve learned quite a bit. The HR franchise is all kinds of a mess, isn’t it? Speaking as a newcomer.
I do know about the Spyglass movie and HBO series. I don’t know much about Spyglass’ record, but Hulu is part of that project, and I’ve heard some good things about their originals. I  haven’t had Hulu in years, before they started doing originals, so I could be wrong. HBO has made some bad and some yikes content. They have made some genuinely good stuff too. Reboots/remakes are a crapshoot. Maybe we’ll get something good or maybe we’ll get more crap. I’ll be more surprised if either project turns out good than if they’re both crap. I doubt they’ll both somehow be good.
I’m also trying to get my hands on the 90s comic run. Heard good things about those, as opposed to !Boom.
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nyx-aira · 2 years
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Headcanons: Moonknight characters with a sarcastic reader
Characters: Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Layla El-Faouly, Arthur Harrow
A/N: Yes I caved in, I will write both of them :) It's just too good of an opposite to write and I'm gonna regret not writing both so yeah.
Also thanks for 900 followers, you guys are awesome ❤
TW! Swear words (that's it)
PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.
PSA c/@ynscrazylife
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Steven
Steven can be just as sarcastic as you are.
If not indefinitely worse, when he had a bad day.
So your bond just came naturally although he still gets flustered sometimes on how blunt you can be because although he uses sarcasm too, most of the time he keeps his thoughts to himself.
When you followed them to Egypt you had always some comment to make.
"Yeah it's definitely a good idea to visit a tomb that most likely has something inside that wants to murder us"
Marc
Steven couldn't agree more but you went inside anyways.
Your only comment as things went south: "great, its not like I predicted how this would go at all"
Steven loved your bluntness but was always afraid it would get you into trouble - and it did - but that didn't stop you.
You have a competition on who can make Marc cringe more at your comments. Steven is loosing but he doesn't care. He just likes seeing you laugh and being happy.
Layla
Marc. Now Marc had a difficult relationship with sarcasm.
As he has been sharing his body with Steven for almost all of his life he was used to it but you? You were on a WHOLE OTHER LEVEL.
He would act all annoyed at your comments but secretly he loved them.
He loved how you could just make any threat seem so harmless with just a couple words and how you never felt afraid to say what's on your mind.
"Hey bone pigeon! Leave Marc the fuck alone with your stupid bullshit."
"Please stop referring to an ancient god as bone pigeon."
"What, he does look like one! Also what's up with the toilet paper obsession?"
He usually had to listen to Khonshu ranting about your antics but he ignored the gods remarks most of the time.
You were just looking out for him after all.Now Marc knew that most people would not understand your humour but he didn't care. He would glare at anyone who made a stupid remark and ignore the stares that were sent your way.
Arthur
Layla was surprised when she heard your sarcasm for the first time.
She was shocked for a moment but soon found herself laughing at your comments all the time.
You definitely spent way too much time with Steven.
"Yay let's follow your ex on a murder mission."
She very much agreed to that statement but just snickered as Marc glanced your way.
Layla loved your way with words and could listen to your rants for hours. Which she did most of the time because that was quality time to you two.
Layla would absolutely root for you in your competition with Steven.
"Listen I trust your judgement but that shirtless bitch on a horse doesn't seem too trustworthy."
Your comments were rude but true most of the time.
"Ha, told you so!"
"We're getting SHOT at! Can your victory dance wait a bit?"
"Fine but I was right."
Layla would lie if she said your comments didn't brighten her day.
-----
Oh boy did you annoy Arthur sometimes.
Not in a bad way, no, but if your partner just reveals to you that his mission is to free an Egyptian goddess and has explained basically his life work to you and your response is simply "sure sure" and you continue eating your chocolate bar it can be a bit disorienting to say so.
None the less Arthur loves you and your humour more than anything in the world.
You would make his day brighter and light up even the darkest situations with a sarcastic off hand comment.
"Let's follow an ancient scarab into the sands of Egypt, he said. What could possibly go wrong, he said."
Arthur really had to suppress laughter in front of his followers from time to time as you would whisper something in his ear.
"Is it just me or doesn't the moonlight suit look like some fancy toilet paper."
Your comments were always very blunt but that's what he liked so much about you. You always spoke your mind.
Weirdly enough you also had a thing for printing your comments on t-shirts.
So while Arthur walked around in his typical clothes you would trail behind, a shirt with the imprint "let's go and die by the hands of a mummy" on, as you headed to Egypt.
You had a collection of those shirts and Arthur loved, loved, loved gifting you new ones.
He would send his followers out to find the most horrendous shirts they could find just so he could watch the smile on your face as he gave them to you.
(He sometimes wore them to sleep as well but shh don't tell anyone)
Taglist: @escapetodreamworld @midnight-lestrange @ynscrazylife @sokovianheadtilt @wandaswifeyforlifey @scarthefangirl @procrastinatingsapphictrash @ineffablebean @official-clint-barton @wlwlovesreading @multifandomfix @fairydxll @itsyourgirlmalise @eilarch @marvelwomen-simp @vostokoffscottage @sapphic-stress @dopeqff @adamcarlsenslvr
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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years
Text
Stray Kids Reaction || He Thinks You’re Cheating [Request]
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CHAN:
Trust was everything in your relationship between you and Chan, you trusted him to go off and tour the world and you thought he trusted you to be loyal to him but lately, he'd been acting so odd around you. Since you were working more often than not lately it had been getting harder to spend time with your boyfriend who was already busy enough without you throwing your schedule into the mix. 
"You've been working all week and you're telling me you don't have the weekend off?" You could hear just how annoyed he was about you cancelling your weekend together but you couldn't help it when your boss was behind which meant your whole department was behind and had to stay to help him out.
"My boss is behind Chan, you know what that means." You sighed as you tried to get it through to him but he just began sighing and shaking his head despite you not being in the same room as him, 
"I do, it means my own girlfriend is making excuses. Look, if you're sleeping with the guy let me know so I can get over this quickly," He snapped before hanging up the phone leaving you shocked as you stared down at the mobile in your hands, instead of staying to work you made an excuse of being sick and left without another word. Heading straight to the dorms to figure this out with Chan, there was no way he could get away with accusing you of something like that and leaving without another word. 
"You think I would cheat on you?" You questioned as you walked through the door, he was home alone as he glanced up from his laptop, 
"You've decided to grace me with your presence!" The sarcasm oozed from his voice as you rolled your eyes at him, you didn't want this to turn into some stupid fight that was over nothing. 
"There's nothing going on between me and my boss," You spoke calmly knowing that if you got angry he would double down on his thoughts about cheating. 
"Please, all that time you spend with him? All the 'extra hours'." He said sarcastically as he air quoted his words but you shook your head, sitting down on the sofa and sighing as he continued to rant about all the time you'd been spending at work lately but you couldn't hold it back anymore. 
"I work all the time because I need to pay my bills Chan! My stupid landlord raised my rent and I can't afford it!" You finally cried out, admitting to him that you were struggling with money as tears ran down your face,
"I would never cheat on you, I would never do anything to hurt you," You sobbed into your hands as you finally broke down, the weight of being almost kicked out and dumped hitting you all at once but as soon as Chan saw you crying he cradled you in his arms.
"Y/n I'm so sorry, I-I didn't think." He whispered as he continued to soothe you, rubbing your back as you cried into his arms.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He whispered as he rocked you back and forth,
"I didn't want you to try and help, you always try and give me money you know I can't take," You sniffled as he held you closer to him, not letting you go for even a second as he rocked you. 
"Then how about I don't give you money...I-I buy us a place together..." He suggested as he pulled away to look into your eyes, you frowned wondering if he meant it but he smiled at you and that smile could relax you every moment of every day. 
"Think about it first," He whispered, kissing you softly before going to make you a hot drink and get you some food.
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MINHO:
It came as no surprise to you when Minho thought you were cheating on him with one of his members, you were close with all of the boys but Minho was a little insecure when it came to relationships but you didn't blame him since his ex cheated on him. 
"Do you really think I would do that to you?" You questioned as he sat across from you on the bed in his bedroom, Felix and you had been asleep on the sofa together when he walked in. 
"I-I don't know, yes." He was stuttering as he spoke to you and you knew it was past experiences clouding his judgement so you couldn't hold it against him, 
"I walked in and you were asleep...H-He had his arm around you, you were snuggled against him and I-"
"We fell asleep watching a movie Minnie," You cooed as you reached out to touch him, trying to relax him but he moved his hand away from yours and shook his head. 
"You never cuddle like that, if he's just a friend you shouldn't have cuddled like that," You knew it looked bad to someone who had been in a situation where they had been cheated on before and you knew there was nothing you could say to him that would put his mind at ease.
"There would never be anything between Lix and I, he's like a little brother to me." You whispered as you nudged his hand, taking it into yours and locking your fingers together as he sighed. 
"She's right...We didn't mean to sleep like that, we were watching a movie and we just got too comfortable," Minho looked at you both and then back to looking at just you, searching in your eyes for any indication that you were lying, he knew you were never a very good liar and as soon as he saw how upset you were he hugged you. 
"I'm sorry." He whispered over and over again while you tried to convince him that it was fine, he didn't outright accuse you and that you understood why he was so scared about it. 
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CHANGBIN:
Changbin wasn't normally the over protective snoop through your phone kind of guy but as of late he'd been getting anxious about your relationship, whenever you were together you were always on your phone, laughing or smiling at it while you text back and forth with someone and whenever Changbin would ask what it was about you would shoot him down but he'd had enough of it, he needed to make sure you weren't cheating on him. 
"Binnie?" You gasped as you walked back into the bedroom to find him trying to unlock your phone but it looked as though he didn't know the password to your phone as he struggled,
"What are you doing?" You snatched your phone away from him placing it down onto the bed as you stared at him waiting for some kind of excuse but he was done,
"I want to know who you've been texting so much, who's making you smile this much..." You could hear the hurt in his voice as he said it to you, you knew he'd been desperate to see what you were doing but it was supposed to be a surprise, 
"It's no one Binnie, please just sit down." You tried to calm him but he stepped away from you shaking his head as tears welled up in his eyes, 
"No, you're cheating on me...Aren't you? That's the reason you hide your phone and you're always laughing and smiling at it." He was blowing everything out of proportion and you knew that it was only going to get worse the more you denied it or told him that he was imagining things.
"Don't tell me I'm imagining it, I'm not. I see you all of the time," You knew how bad it must have looked so you sighed at him, shaking your head as you handed him your phone. 
"The password is your birthday," You whispered waiting for him to see who you had been texting all of this time behind his back and you saw the blush creep onto his cheeks. 
"Wooyoung and I were planning on bringing him to the dorms to surprise you," You admitted as he read through the messages, finding memes of Changbin back and forth to one another, 
"See...Nothing is going on behind your back but you better act surprised when Wooyoung gets here tomorrow," You pouted as you sat down on the bed with Changbin, he hugged you tightly whispering to you how sorry he was for accusing you of something so harsh.
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HYUNJIN:
Hyunjin had been under the impression that when you said that you were going to lunch with a coworker it meant you were going to be with another female co-worker but when he walked by your local cafe to see you sitting with another man he freaked out in the inside, coming up with all the ways you would be cheating on him. 
"You're being overdramatic, I would never cheat on you least of all with Rylan," You laughed at the thought of it but Hyunjin wasn't finding any of this funny, all he could picture was you and Rylan sitting so close to one another, you were almost sitting in his lap. 
"You could have been kissing him! You were practically sat on him!" He yelled out making you roll your eyes, you knew Hyunjin was dramatic but you didn't expect him to overdramatise everything that happened in your life.
"There wasn't much space, I sat close to him so a woman with a baby could get in," You tried to defend yourself but Hyunjin was already clear in his mind what was happening behind his back even if it wasn't true. 
"So you just so happened not to tell me you were going out with a male for lunch?"
"I didn't think it was a big deal, you eat with girls at work all of the time and I don't get jealous and accuse you of cheating," You snapped as he stared at you, scoffing at the thought.
"Because I would never-"
"Neither would I," You cut him off before laughing to yourself at the thought of Rylan asking you on a date, 
"What's so funny?" Hyunjin mumbled as he looked at you but you shook your head, 
"It's just Rylan...I'm not really his type." You laughed again but Hyunjin still wasn't laughing, 
"You're more of his type..." As soon as the words left your mouth a blush crept onto Hyunjin's cheeks as he realised what you meant and you smiled. 
"S-So you're not-"
"No, I'm not." You laughed again and this time Hyunjin nervously joined in as you shook your head at him, giving him a kiss as you smiled weakly. 
"You have to trust me," You whispered, locking your hands together as he nodded his head at you.
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JISUNG:
Jisung's whole body froze as he stared down into the bin in your bathroom, he felt sick to his core as he saw the three pregnancy sticks poking out from the bin. Neither of you had been together intimately yet so he was going through every emotion in his body at the thought of you sleeping with someone else when you were supposed to be with him.
"Can you find it?" You laughed as Jisung didn't come straight back from the bathroom, he'd headed in there to get you the first aid kit so you could have a plaster for a small papercut but when he didn't respond you giggled and went hunting for him,
"Did you get lost? You practically live in my apartment you couldn't have gotten lost," All the while Jisung's eyes began to fill with tears as he saw the three positive tests sitting there,
"Babe? Everything okay?" You giggled walking into the bathroom and froze in place when you caught what he was looking at but you knew where his mind was going to go if it wasn't already there.
"I can explain-"
"How you have three pregnancy tests in your bin when we haven't had sex and been dating for two months...Go on. Explain that one to me." You knew where his mind was but you couldn't let him believe for one second that they were yours, you'd only bought them but you didn't take them.
"They're not mine," He scoffed as he tried to move past you to get out of your small bathroom but you wouldn't move out of his way not wanting him to believe that it was yours and storm off in the other direction. 
"That's the oldest excuse in the book," He mumbled still attempting to move away from you and ignore you but you grabbed onto his hand pleading with him to stay with you but he was already set in his way. 
"They're not mine! I promise, my friend came around earlier and she took three," You pulled at his hand to try and make him believe you but he wouldn't look at you, 
"Jisung, you know I can't lie to you. You know when I'm lying look at me," You begged but he struggled out of your grasp and began making his way to your apartment door when it opened suddenly and your best friend stormed her way in, 
"I need another one, I don't....It can be wrong three times right!" She cried out as she walked into the bathroom with another pregnancy test in her hand, you stared up at Jisung who was a little shocked. 
"They really aren't yours?" You shook your head as you walked over to him, looking into his eyes and pouting when you saw how much he had been crying. 
"I would never do anything to hurt you Jisung...I'm in love with you and only you," You whispered to him as you stood up on your tip-toes to kiss him, pulling away when you heard the toilet flushing. 
"Go and make a hot drink? I need to calm her down." You whispered to him as you patted his chest softly. 
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FELIX:
Rumours were everywhere in the industry and hard to be avoided especially when you were dating someone who was in a popular K-pop band, while you were someone who just introduced acts on Korean variety shows normally you and Felix would do your best to ignore the rumours but lately they'd gotten worse. Branching for a hidden pregnancy to you cheating on Felix with another band member but you knew it was to get attention for the new show the boys were taking part in. Felix had come backstage accusing you of sleeping with Wooyoung when he saw the articles, he wanted you to be honest with him but when you tried he shot you down.
"Don't be an idiot Felix, why would I ever sleep with someone else?" You questioned as you stood backstage at the music core set getting ready to go on stage with Hyunjin but Felix was being paranoid, 
"So I'm an idiot?!" You sighed as you heard him say this, you knew he was angry and just blowing everything out of proportion, that morning there had been an article claiming that you were dating Member Wooyoung from Ateez which couldn't have been further from the truth. The two of you were long term friends and your friendship grew closer since you and Changbin were also close with one another. 
"Lixie, I would never cheat on you. Wooyoung is a friend," You whispered as you tried to kiss his cheek but he moved out of the way so that you would miss, 
"Lix...Do you really think I would go behind your back on something like this?" The look on his face made your heart feel like it was breaking into pieces, he shouldn't have to think about it he should just know you would never even think of cheating on him.
"I've got to go," You mumbled as they began calling your name, you moved away from him and headed onto the stage, putting on the biggest smile you could manage before presenting. 
(X)
The show ended and Felix was still standing in your changing room but you didn't want to fight with him over something that wasn't real and you didn't want to start something now. 
"Look. I haven't cheated on you, the closest I've ever been is when I had a dream I kissed the monopoly man but that's it Lixie...You have to believe me that there is nothing going on between me and Wooyoung." He nodded his head as he got up from the sofa and hugged you tightly in his arms, apologising for believing in the rumours when he should have believed you first.
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SEUNGMIN:
"What do you expect me to do!?" Seungmin yelled from across the living room of your shared apartment, he'd walked into the apartment to find you and Jeongin sitting close to one another and acting suspiciously as soon as he came home.
"Trust me! Trust me enough to know I would never cheat on you," You yelled back at him hoping he would see how hurt you were from the accusation but he was past seeing how hurt you were, he could feel his heart breaking at the thought of you sleeping with Jeongin behind his back. 
"I should have seen it coming! You're always so close with one another, laughing and joking about things, having secrets!" You rolled your eyes as he listed things that all friends did with one another but because it was you and Jeongin it obviously meant there was something else going on between you when there clearly wasn't.
"He's a friend Seungmin, you're being ridiculous," You sighed as you looked up at him but he was still shaking his head, thinking of all the signs he should have seen before it got to this point.
"Do you guys sleep together behind my back? Do you sneak around to the dorms to see him when I'm not there?!"
"Enough!" You finally screamed out, throwing your hands up into the air as you stormed away from Seungmin, grabbing the plans you and Jeongin had been working on for months. 
"You want to know what we've been doing?!" You snapped, storming back into the living room and dropping the papers onto the coffee table so he could see everything laid out in front of him, 
"That! We've been planning a surprise birthday party for you," You yelled as you showed him all of the documents of what you had planned, the room you'd booked, the invitations, the guests, everything was there in black and white for him and you saw the look of regret hit his face. 
"So no, I'm not cheating on you with one of your best friends, we were trying to do something nice for you." As soon as the realisation hit him was when he began to apologise for ruining the plans and accusing you of cheating on him, telling you that he would pretend to be as surprised as he could on the day of the party.
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JEONGIN:
"It's nothing, you're taking things out of context," You tried to tell your boyfriend as he continued to pace back and forth in your living room, he was red in the face with anger and had been since he'd seen photos of you hugging and kissing another man,
"They saw you! They saw you hug and kiss him!" Jeongin yelled as you stared up at him from your apartment sofa, he'd come to your apartment after you'd dropped your cousin off at the airport. Fans and reporters had seen you kiss your cousin and put two and two together to get five as they began spreading rumours of you sleeping and dating someone else that wasn't Jeongin. 
"Jeongin...Please," You sighed rubbing your temples as your headache was beginning to set in from all the yelling he was doing, Jeongin had no idea who the boy in the photos was but he was upset when he saw the photos of you kissing the guy. His mind instantly clicking to your cheating on him instead of looking at the larger picture when you'd previously told him you were spending the weekend with your cousin, 
"You could have just told me you wanted to see other people! It would have hurt a lot less," The way his voice broke, broke your heart and you rushed to him hugging him tightly as you tried to reassure him that it was nothing. He sat down on the edge of the sofa crying into your arms as you held onto him tightly kissing his cheeks,
"He's my cousin, I kissed his cheek, he hugged me and that is all because he's my cousin." You repeated it over and over again until he finally began to believe you, you knew how hard it must have been with all of the rumours and photos that made it look like something it wasn't so you weren't going to hold it against him, 
"I love you Innie...Nothing happened, I promise." You kissed his lips softly and he kissed you back, apologising for even accusing you of something like that.
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Tagline: @taestannie​ @sw33tnight​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​ @minholuvs​
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americancowgirl19 · 4 years
Text
Perfectly Beautiful
Summary: You’re one of the daughters of Medusa and you’re an Avenger. Someone you least expected makes you feel truly beautiful.
Warnings: None
Reader: Female Reader. Medusa’s Daughter.
Pairings: Loki x Medusa’s Daughter Reader
Word Count: 1,326
A/n: Enjoy!
Masterlist - Either Way (Sequel)
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“Y/n... Why is Tony a statue?” Steve asks, coming into the kitchen where you’re peacefully sipping on coffee flipping through your favorite magazine. His eyes are glued on the statue of Tony. The billionaire is frozen in mid motion as if he were waving his hands while ranting.
“He wanted to try out his new glasses. He’s been trying to find a way to deflect my ability and has thus far been failing,” You explain, not taking your eyes off the page you had just turned too.
“And why is he still a stature?” Steve wonders.
“I didn’t feel like being interrogated about my abilities nor listening to his complaints about why he glasses won’t work,” You tell him. “I wanted a couple minutes of peace,”
“And how long has he been like this?”
“Three hours,” You respond, unapologetically. Steve bites back an amused smile and clears his throat.
“Mind releasing him? I need to talk to him about a mission,” Steve says, leaning against a nearby wall. You sigh dramatically.
“If I must...” You mutter standing up.
“Thank you,” Steve says but you merely wave him off. You walk up to Tony’s concrete statue and take a moment to savor the peace before kissing his stone lips. You step back and watch the statue turn into a man. Tony gasps in a breath when the transition completes.
“That was... rude,” Tony says. You wink at him and return to your seat. Before Tony could go off on a tangent, Steve pulls him away. You smile, shake your head and return to your book. You only get a few sentences in before you sense that you’re not alone.
You’re eyes glance up from the page and notice the god of mischief staring at you. His gaze is calculating and curious. You arch an eyebrow, silently wondering what questions are running through his head.
“Are you able to turn anything into stone?” Loki wonders, walking further into the kitchen. The Asgardian has been aiding the Avengers for a few months. While he’s been on multiple missions and such, there are some who are hesitant to call him an Avenger. Thor vouched for him, told the group that he hadn’t been in the right mindset during New York but few believed him. However, the god of mischief was proving to be useful and a good ally.
“Anything with eyes and a soul,” You told him. “Those with blindness are tricky for me,” You explain. You weren’t Medusa, just her daughter. You had inherited most of her abilities but you were still your own person and there was a difference between the two of you. You mother is mainly reptilian while your mainly human.
“And you can reverse the effects?” Loki questions.
“With a kiss,” You smirk slyly. “Very cliché if you ask me but I didn’t make the rules,” You shrug. The edge of Loki’s mouth lifts just a smudge. You find yourself briefly wondering what he would look like smiling broadly, even laughing obnoxiously like his brother. You wondered what he looked like without the weight of the world on his shoulders, a truly care free god of mischief. 
“And your hair?” Loki asks, moving even closer. You stare at him for a moment, wondering where he was going with this. 
You and your mother shared many things. You both had the same eyes, the same skin tone, and the same texture of hair. Texture of hair as in snakes. However, while your mother had so many snake in her hair you couldn’t care to count them all you only had about a dozen of them.
They’re live snakes. You can hear their thoughts in your mind. You can feel their fatigue and their anxiousness. You can see through their eyes and smell through their noses.
While the snakes are a part of you and you love them all dearly, they made many people uncomfortable. You’ve felt like an outcast your entire life, even when you’ve been apart of the Avengers for a few years. You knew your teammates cared about you, they’d protect you just as fiercely as the others. However, that didn’t stop the staring nor the obvious discomfort they felt whilst looking at them.
You’re not ashamed of your snakes, at least that’s what you tell yourself. You love your snakes but you feel self-conscious about the stares and the judgement. So, in order to avoid such things, you cover the snakes. You wrap them in a comfortable scarf and hide them unless your in your room or somewhere alone.
“What about it?” You question, Loki. The god moves until he’s right beside you.
“I can hear them, I can see them moving around,” Loki tells you. “Why do you hide them?” You stare into his eyes, not looking away as he takes a seat beside you. He moves the chair to the point where you’re legs are pressed together. 
“There’s a few Ophidiophobic’s on the team,” You explain. He frowns his eyebrows. “People who are afraid of snakes,” You clarify.
“So, you hide yourself to make others comfortable?” He asks. You slowly nod. “Which leaves you uncomfortable,” He continues. 
“At least their not staring or avoiding me,” You whisper. Loki’s lips press together. You’re eyes dart to his hand as he slowly raises it.
“Well, I am not an ophidiophobic,” He says, his voice low and tender. Your body tenses as he touches the wrap covering your snakes. The rustling under the fabric becomes more frantic as the snakes feed off of your anxiety. You wanted to stop Loki but you don’t. You just watch as he slowly unravels the scarf freeing the snakes.
You’re eyes downcast to the floor as you feel his eyes taking in the image of you. It’s the first time he’s seen you without the scarf. You didn’t want to see the same look in his eyes as everyone else.
It’s only a couple of minutes of silence. The only sound is the sound of your snakes hissing and slithering around. After a few moments, a blue hand gently cups your chin and raises your head. 
You gasp softly when you look into the red eyes of Loki. You observe the blueness of his skin and how different yet similar he looks. His hand moves from your chin to your cheek. His knuckles brush against your skin lightly.
“Beautiful,” He whispers. You notice the snakes closest to his hand slither forward and rub against his skin. Loki smiles, watching them fondly.
“They like you,” I whisper, his eyes returning to mine.
“Don’t hide from me,” He pleads. “Your beauty is in your difference from the others. Should they stare then they should stare in jealousy that they will never posses the beauty you do,”
“I have reptiles for hair,” You laugh sadly.
“You have the softest skin and the most beautiful eyes and the most unique hair,” Loki tells you. “It is an honor to be able to look upon them,” He says, his eyes going back to the snakes that seemed to be entirely entranced with him. “Everything about you is magnificent, it is a shame you feel as if you should hide such beauty from the world... It truly is dimmer without your smile,” 
“Since when did you go from Mr. I’m Going to Conquer the Earth to Mr. I’m Going to Woo the Snake Girl?” You ask, trying to break up the seriousness with some humor.
“Since I became hopeful that the Snake Girl could look at me as I look at her,” Loki whispers. “You’re so beautiful, love. I would be honored if you would allow me to spend time with you and convince you of that fact,”
“Do you know what you’re getting into?” You whisper.
“Hopefully a relationship with the most beautiful Avenger,” Loki smirks, winking at you. You smile, letting out a small laugh.
“Who woulda thought you’d be a flirt?”
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vampireshmampire · 2 years
Text
A Change in Perspective (3/13)
"These are potions of perspective. Each one will give you a dream that will show you your life in a new light. This one shows you how the world would look if you had never been born. This one shows you what would happen if you died. But I am going to give you this one. This one shows you what you need to be happy. Not--and this is important--not what you want."
Nandor goes to the witches for help with him vampire depression, and gets a potion that will help him figure out what he needs to be happy. It's not all smooth sailing--he may not like what the potion has to say, and everyone may not love the changes he's about to make, and no one can ever, ever find out that he went to the semen-stealing witches for help. But hey. It's better than super slumber.
"We have been waiting for almost an hour!" Nadja snapped. Nandor glanced around. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when he took the potion a second time, but he was surprised by just how different the dream was from last time. 
He and Nadja were alone in the antechamber outside the hall of judgement. They were in their council robes--but the robes were slightly different: dark gray with red trim instead of pure white.
"What the fuck does he think he's playing at?"
"Probably he is just not ready yet," Nandor said.
"If he wasn't ready for us, he shouldn't have summoned us! This is another one of his little power games," Nadja spat out, her hands tightening into fists. "Reminding us who is boss!"
Nandor shushed her.
"Keep your voice down!"
"Don't you shush me! Just because he actually listens to you--!"
"He would probably listen to you if you ever suggested a solution other than murder."
"Ugh." Nadja said. She quieted, but Nandor knew that unless this world was radically different from the real one, she wasn't done yet. Sure enough, it was less than a minute before she continued ranting. "It is humiliating! We were the council and now--! You know he only keeps us around as trophies.”
"He does not. It could be worse," Nandor said, trying to be positive. "We still get to be involved."
"If you try to find the silver lining one more time, I am going to strangle you with it," Nadja snapped.
The Guide materialized before them.
"It is time," she said, widening her eyes ominously.
"Finally."
The doors swung open. In the center of the room was the throne, as it always was. But someone was already in the chair, clad in the white robe of the council leader. The hood was up, leaving the face obscured by shadow.
"Took you long enough," Nadja snapped. The hood turned towards her, slowly. "We were waiting for an hour."
"Apologies for the delay," the Guide said, smoothly. "The last meeting took much longer than expected."
"Just because you are head of the council does not mean you get to jerk us around and waste our time!" Nadja said, not even looking at the Guide.
"No one made you stay. If you're not satisfied being my advisor, you can leave."
What the shit, Nandor thought, as Guillermo lowered his hood. His dark hair was slicked back, and his eyes were ringed dramatically with black liner. Nandor had never seen him looking so stern and authoritative. Though he liked it less than the teasing smiles from the last dream, he had to admit that Guillermo did not look out of place on the throne.  
"Of course I'm not satisfied!” Nadja said. “What is satisfying about you stealing my position?"
"I won it in fair combat," Guillermo said, his patient tone not managing to hide his exasperation. "All in line with the laws of the council. Do you seriously want to have this argument again?"
"You didn't even bother to fight Nandor!"
"He didn't not bother to fight me!" Nandor said, defensively. "I yielded!" 
I did? Nandor thought.
“I do not engage in fights I know I cannot win.”
I don’t? Nandor thought. Even if that were true, it was Guillermo. Surely he, Nandor the Relentless, could take Guillermo, who was small and soft and quiet and…
And had single-handedly defeated an entire theater of the most powerful vampires in the area.
Hmm. Perhaps pragmatism had been a good call for Dream Nandor. Real Nandor decided not to be offended by this dream decision.
"Ha! Yielded." Nadja's voice was acidic. "You mean you rolled over like a dog and surrendered to your own familiar--!"
Guillermo blurred, and in a second he was on the other side of the room, nose to nose with Nadja. Though the heels gave her a few inches on him, he seemed no less intimidating than if he'd towered over her. This close, when Guillermo spoke, Nandor could see his fangs.
"Former familiar," Guillermo said, his tone dangerously cold. Nadja sneered, although Nandor recognized the nervousness now threading beneath the expression.
"I am not afraid of you," she said.
"I don't want you to be afraid of me," Guillermo said. "I want you to show methe respect I am owed as your leader. And if you can't do that, go home."
The moment stretched, the tension thrumming between them. Even in a dream, Nandor could feel it between his teeth. It took a lot of effort not to back away, and he tried to stand very still.
Finally, Nadja stepped back.
"Of course, oh glorious leader," she said, not an ounce of sincerity to be found.
Guillermo, at least, was willing to take it, and resumed his seat on the throne as Nadja and Nandor took their spots beside him.
"Let us begin," Guillermo said.
People came and people went. They laid out their problems, and Guillermo would ask Nandor and Nadja what they thought. Nandor tried very hard to give serious, well-thought out answers. Nadja suggested murder every time. Having Guillermo listen to and consider his suggestions, even if he didn’t follow Nandor’s suggestions, felt...really good. Like Nandor’s opinion mattered even if he wasn’t the most important person in the room.
Like Nandor mattered.
Time passed strangely in dreams, so it felt like hours and yet minutes when Guillermo tugged up the sleeve of his robe and checked his watch.
"Okay, we're done for today," he said. Without a word, Nadja marched towards the door. "Nadja. Nadja!" He sounded almost plaintive as he called after her, but the only answer was the slam of the chamber door. Guillermo sighed and rubbed at his eyes--and then cursed under his breath at the smudged eyeliner on his fingers.
Guillermo stood, but instead of following Nadja to the exit, he went through a small door in the back of the room. There was no discussion, but Nandor followed him down a small hallway to a side room. It was a large office decorated with a mix of old and new--ancient wooden desk, ergonomic desk chair, bookshelves stacked with ancient tomes, a shiny new computer monitor perched on the desk.
Nandor wasn't sure if he'd ever been in this room in the real world, or if it even existed, and tried to remember to check when he woke up.
Guillermo threw himself down into the office chair, which wheeled away from the desk slightly.
"Do you think she'll ever get over it?" he asked.
"Give her a few hundred years," Dream Nandor said. Real Nandor was skeptical. Guillermo seemed to share that skepticism.
"I thought making you two my advisors would make it easier, but sometimes I think it actually made it worse."
"I like it," Nandor said.
Guillermo snorted.
"Really," he said, disbelieving. "You enjoy standing by the throne you once sat in, serving the person who once shined your shoes and cleaned dog shit off your cape."
"I do," Nandor insisted. "I like to have a say and be heard, but I also like not having to do the actual leading. It wasn't as much fun as I remembered. And I still get to boss people around, so." He grinned. "All good." 
It's not supposed to be fun, Nandor thought again. You didn't do it because it was fun, you did it because...because...because you were supposed to.It was important to have power; what the power was and what you did with it was irrelevant. You just...you were just supposed to have it. That was how it worked.
"And you really don't have a problem working for your familiar?"
Nandor sat down in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk.
"I do not work for my familiar. I work for my friend, the vampire Guillermo de la Cruz."
Guillermo reached up and rubbed the pad of his thumb against a fang.
"You don't regret--"
"No," Dream Nandor said with a roll of his eyes, giving Real Nandor the bizarre sensation of recognizing his own tone of voice—the irritation of being forced to repeat himself many times to many people. "No, I do not regret turning you; no, I do not see it as sowing the seeds of my own destruction; no, I do not wish I had not done it. Stop asking me as if I will change my answer! I am going to start throwing things at you."
"Okay! Okay!" Guillermo laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. "...sowing the seeds of your own destruction?" 
Nandor rolled his eyes again.
"Do not even ask," he said. Dream Nandor hesitated, and Nandor pushed for it, wanting to know what it was he had to say.
"I did not yield to you because I thought I would lose the fight," Nandor said at last, vindicating his unseen passenger’s confusion. "I yielded because I knew that you would be a better leader. And I was right. You are very good at this, and Nadja knows it. That is part of why she is so angry. She wanted you to mess it up so she could justify taking it back."
"You never told me that before," Guillermo said, sitting up. Nandor shrugged, awkwardly.
"Hard to say without sounding like I am sucking up to the new boss."
Guillermo chuckled.
"I just find it hard to imagine that you don't care. It was so important to you."
"Yeah but then I had to actually do it, and it was like. Eh."
Guillermo looked away. He smiled, but it seemed a little forced. 
"I'm glad you're okay with it. Nadja hating me has been pretty rough but, uh. I don't think I would...I think it would be even harder if you hated me too."
I could never hate you.
"I could never hate you."
Despite the white robes and the slicked-back hair and the heavy makeup, the shy smile Guillermo gave him was so Guillermo that neither Nandor knew what to do with it.
"Come," Nandor said, standing. "Let us go find someone to eat, and then we can do that thing where we sit on a roof and make fun of the people we see."
Guillermo grinned and stood.
"I totally would have won though. If we had fought."
"Sure," Nandor said, noncommittal.
"Seriously? I could totally take you."
"I didn't say you couldn't."
"You didn't say I could."
"I would think the outcome would be obvious."
"Okay, now you're just being a dick about it--"
Nandor opened his eyes.
Two things about the dream had surprised him. One, how good Guillermo had looked in eyeliner. Maybe he could try and make a few very very subtle suggestions? Two, it was a world so totally different from the previous dream. What could it mean? Surely not that he needed his familiar to usurp his position in order to be happy.
Speaking of.
"Good evening, Master."
Nandor looked at Guillermo, in his collared shirt and sweater and slacks. He looked down at himself, in his embroidered tunic and riding boots and trousers he'd owned for at least a hundred years. He still wasn't sure what the dream was trying to tell him, but maybe he didn’t need to wait until he was to start making changes.
"Get your coat, Guillermo. We are going out."
"Out where?"
"Shopping."
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smoochkooks · 4 years
Text
—hymne a l’amour (m.)
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⟶ pairing: park jimin/reader
⟶ genre: smut, fluff, tiny bits of angst
⟶ word count: 5.5k
⟶ summary: it’s valentine’s day and your boyfriend decides to surprise you in more ways than one. and when you’re dating park jimin, cocky, smart and obnoxiously good-looking archeologist, you can be sure of absolutely nothing.
⟶ warnings: dom!jimin, sub!reader, big dick!jimin, sir kink, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, ass slapping, dirty talk, use of degrading names, unprotected sex, mentions of jimin having a daddy kink, jimin being disgustingly sweet boyfriend, oc having at least 2 (two) mental breakdowns, cringy valentine’s day presents
this is eldorado valentine’s day special but it can be read as a standalone. enjoy! xx
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Spending Valentine's Day in the city of Paris is like walking through the streets of Beijing and smelling the strong essence of soy sauce and chicken every time you take a breath.
Overwhelming.
(Or at least that's what you think is a good comparison, since you've never stood your foot in Beijing before.)
Paris seems to be on another level when it comes to celebrating Valentine's Day. It's because that's the city of love, someone may say, but no, my friend, it's not just that. French grammar isn't the only stupid thing about said country. Citizens are even weirder, in more ways than one. It's the Eiffel Tower and the smell of garlic that disguises it all when you first visit France.  
A week before February 14th, restaurants, cafees and grocery shops are all covered from head to toe in red hearts, chubby cupids, big teddy bears, various kinds of roses and, at the top of that – everywhere you focus your eyes on, you spot those huge inscriptions where words ‘love’ and ‘I love you’ are spelled in hundred different types of swirly fonts.
It's all too kitschy for your liking but tourists and locals don’t actually mind it even a bit. Once a year Paris turns into a set of the most cliché rom-com and no matter how irksome it might feel, you just have to survive this festival of boofonery.
You've always despised Valentine's Day with every fiber of your being (mostly because you hadn’t had anyone you could actually spend this day with) but your judgement took a sharp three-sixty turn when certain blond, charismatic man entered your life. Now, while you’re happily taken, a romantic dinner and a bouquet of red roses don’t sound that bad.  
But when you're dating someone like Park Jimin, a smart-ass, cocky and obnoxiously good-looking archeologist, you can be sure of abosultely nothing.  
It's a little past ten, you’re laying in your king-size bed, a day before the actual Valentine's Day. Jimin informed you he was going to be late for dinner because of some extra paperwork he had to do in the office, so you patiently wait for him. Wrapped like a fancy Christmas gift in a new pair of flimsy, lacy lingerie you recently bought in Victoria’s Secret, all hidden underneath Jimin's baggy t-shirt (the combination of casual and slutty never fails to drive him crazy). The set is cute, in a baby pink colour. The last time you pulled a move like this, Jimin went hard, literally and lyrically.
Let's just say that Park Jimin (and his dick) likes high-quality underwear.
Dating Jimin has taught you a few things, one of them being that his sex drive is insatiable, so you always need to be prepared. That’s why you're now laying here, on your bed, freshly shaved and smelling of coconut, your precious pussy ready to be worshipped by Jimin's mouth.  
When you hear the familiar jingle of keys and the door to your apartment swings open, you squeal in excitement, grabbing your phone from the nightstand to scroll through it mindlessly so you don’t come across a girl whose only purpose in life is to get dicked down by her boyfriend.
(Which, right now, is your only purpose.)
“Babe, I’m home!”
You hear Jimin pulling off his shoes and coat, so you shout back, “I’m in the bedroom!”
He seemed to be in a good mood in the morning and if nothing's changed, you're positive about getting some action tonight. A well-deserved orgasm after work it's all you crave. You squeeze your thighs, and wait.
“God, I’m so fucking exhausted.” Jimin announces upon entering the room and as soon as those words leave his mouth, he collapses face down onto the bed. His lifeless corpse smells like sweat mixed with his usual cologne and you wrinkle your nose in disgust.
And that’s on getting railed by your boyfriend tonight.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he murmurs after a moment, voice laced with tiredness. He grunts and lifts himself up to place a chaste kiss on your lips. He tastes like bitter coffee and it makes you cringe, but you kiss him back nonetheless. He pulls off too fast for your liking and nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck instead. He cuddles into your side, mumbling something about you feeling warm.
In your head, you count. When was the last time you two had sex? Right, last Tuesday. Oh boy, what a night it was. Your ass still hurts a little while sitting on a chair, a byproduct of your boyfriend's palm landing smack after smack on your cheeks. Lesson learned: never smile too broadly to the waiter who blatantly flirsts with you. You're sure the whole appartment complex heard that night who makes you feel that good  
(As if they don’t already know.)
See? Park Jimin is unpredictable.
“How was work?’’ you decide to ask instead, clearing your thoughts from the inappropriate images of Jimin’s bare body pressed to yours as he fucked you that night. You thread your fingers through his blond locks just the way he likes, massaging his scalp.
He sighs, his words muffled when he speaks. “This new employee can’t do shit. I had to prepare everything before tomorrow's expedition by myself,” he says. “I have to tell Namjoon to fire his ass.”  
You falter your movements for a second. Right, the expedition. You completely forgot about it. Jimin's going to be out of town for the whole day, digging in the soil in some French village the name of you cannot pronounce.
It looks like your fancy lingerie has to wait for her big premiere a little longer.  
“What time are you planning to be back home?” you ask.
“Dunno. Probably late.” Jimin exhales loudly, his breath tickling your neck. His hand travels to your nude thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. You fight back a moan that threatens to spill from you mouth. You really need to get laid soon. “We set off at 6am.” he adds, tracing circles on your bare skin. Your smile drops.
So the plans for morning sex on Valentine's Day stay where they belong. In your dreams.  
“You're so soft. And you smell like coconuts. I could stay like this forever.” Jimin mumbles, circling your waist with his arms and pulling you even closer to him.  
You sigh, basking in this situation just for a while, stroking Jimin's hair and listening to his steady breathing until he eventually falls asleep. Still fully clothed, still with his hand on your thigh. Carefully, so you don’t wake him up, you get up from the bed to take off your underwear. You do feel a little disappointed, but it's okay.  
When you settle yourself on the bed next to Jimin again, your back facing him, a strong arm pulls you flush to his body. You hear him sighing with relief, and it makes you smile to yourself.  
Lights off, everything can wait for tomorrow.
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In the morning, just like expected, you wake up alone. There's no sight of Jimin, his side of the bed empty and cold. For your dismay, there’s no bouquet of red roses waiting for you in the kitchen, no box of chocolates or a small, cheesy note with your name written on it. Not even a short “Happy Valentine's Day, baby!” text on your phone. Absolutely nothing.  
You tells yourself it’s fine. Maybe Jimin didn’t have enough time, maybe he was too occupied with expedition to prepare something special, maybe the big surprise is yet to come. However, you can’t quite shake off the feeling that something do seem odd and it makes you anxious. Leaving without a single text is not Jimin's style. Not when it's your first Valentine's Day spend together.
You probably shouldn’t worry that much. It's not a big deal, after all you hate those types of annual holidays and Jimin knows it. Yet something about the whole situation makes you uncontrollably uneasy. You have never been like this, vulnerable and sheepish. You hate Park Jimin for turning you into such a softie.
Walking through the streets of Paris makes you feel nauseous. You look at all the happy couples sucking each others’ faces for everyone to see and fight an urge to gag. Someone shouts “Love is in the air!” and you almost throw up. Everytime you see someone holding heart-shaped balloons or flowers, you whip your head in other direction. It's nothing, you keep reminding yourself. A stupid holiday that doesn’t mean anything at all.
But the actual nail to the coffin happens to be the atmosphere in Eldorado headquarters. It drives you absolutely crazy.
It's 12am and still no word from Jimin. You checked: this bastard was online one hour ago, so he just doesn’t want to talk to you. Fine, mister. If this is how you wanna play, try sucking your dick by yourself, beacuse I’m not getting near it anytime soon, you think to yourself, filled with rage.
Yeri wiggles her pretty eyebrows at you and asks about your plans for tonight. You fake a giggle, saying that Jimin will probably surprise you with something when he gets back from his expedition. The words taste bitter on your tongue, especially when the high hopes you had simply melted away this morning. Your friend then starts babbling about the restaurant she's going to with Jungkook after work and you listen to her rant with forced smile on your face the whole time.
Meanwhile, a few meters away from you Hoseok is giggling like a teenager, typing something on his phone, without a doubt (sex)texting his girlfriend. She's out of town and you’re more than sure Hoseok hasn't gone to bathroom ten minutes ago just to take a piss. Even Namjoon is in a pleasant mood today, humming some old ABBA hits under his breath. Yesterday he couldn’t shut up about his date with a girl who’s also his new neighbour. He met her when she came by to give him homemade croissants. Ironically, that sounds a lot like some kdrama lovestory to you, and Namjoon hates kdramas.
During lunch time, you scroll through your Instagram and almost slam your phone on the wall. There's a new photo uploaded on Kim Seokjin's account.  
kimseokjin92: Celebrating Valentine's Day on Maldives w @minsuga #couplegoals #boyfriends #valentinesday #loveislove
They are on fucking Maldives. Fucking Maldives! You grit your teeth. It's fine. Completely fine.
But the absolute peek, the moment when you almost break down into tears and curl yourself into a ball of misery, comes in the person of Jeon Jungkook. He enters the office with a bouquet of the most beautiful red roses you have ever seen, a huge grin plastered on his stupid face.
Your heart clenches in your chest. Park Jimin could never.  
Jungkook hands Yeri the flowers and she laughs, slapping his chest when he starts declaiming Romeo's monologue from the Shakespeare’s tragedy. He then kisses his girlfriend deeply and lovingly, making her cheeks flush in crimson. Hoseok coos at them, Namjoon following him. You swear you saw Jungkook's tongue in the process of said heavy make out session.  
(Jealously is an awful emotion, you've decided a long time ago.)
An hour later, the bouquet stands proudly on Yeri’s desk and you stare at it with melancholy. You briefly avert your gaze to Jimin's desk and the memories flash before your eyes. The same desk he had you bent over, skirt bunched around your waist and cock drilling into your pussy, when you both stayed together at work after hours not so long ago.  
You mentally slap yourself. Get your shit together, woman. It's not like he broke up with you. It's just some stupid holiday. It's nothing.
“Something's wrong?’’ Yeri asks you with genuine concern written on her face.  
You swallow, forcing yourself to smile. “No, everything's fine. Just a headache.”  
She eyes you suspiciously. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” you say. Even though your friend doesn’t look convinced, she eventually stops bothering you.
It's all good. My boyfriend forgot about our first Valentine's Day together but everything's alright. No worries, you want to say instead.  
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Later that day, when you exit the elevator and walk straight to your apartment, a strange smell of something burning fills your nostrils. Is that food? A real fire? No, that's definitely some meat that stayed too long in the oven.
The closer you are, the smell becomes stronger, like it’s actually coming from your apartment. You furrow your eyebrows.
“What the fuck.” you mutter to yourself.  
When you open the door, your jaw falls slack, eyes wide like saucers.
Never, in your entire life, had you thought  you would see Park Jimin, your own dearest boyfriend, popping out from the kitchen with his hair disheveled, sweat coating his forehead, wearing a black suit underneath the most ridiculous apron you have ever seen: pink with a big-ass ‘mr good lookin is cookin' written in the middle.  
(Can someone remind you why are you dating him? Oh, thank God he isn’t naked underneath.)
He looks completely lost when he spots you, waving awkwardly in your direction. It's probably the first time he touched something in the kitchen that isn’t coffee machine. He’s so flustered that you almost forget he nearly turned your apartment into ashes.
“Hi, babe.” he says sheepishly.
It takes all the willpower you hold not to spit a lung watching your boyfriend who absolutely hates cooking, trying to look unimpressed by the smell of burnt food. He does a pretty poor job though, an apron not helping in the situation.
“Happy Valentine's Day!’’ he exclaims perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, approaching you and planting a kiss on your cheek. And after that, you burst into hysterical laughter.  
(Seriously, you almost lose your own breath three times.)
Jimin looks terrified but most importantly – put out. You’re probably hurting his enormous, almost the size of Russia pride right now. (Not your fault Jimin has the biggest praise kink on the planet.)  
“Why are you laughing? Is it because of the chicken? Fine, I can’t cook for shit but I tried, okay? I didn’t have enough time and it was the middle of the night in Korea so I couldn’t just facetime my mum for advice and-”
You interrupt his rambling with a searing kiss, effectively shutting him up. He falters for a moment but quickly catches up, pulling you closer to him, placing his hands on your waist and deepening the kiss.  
But then, when his about to trail kisses down your throat, you hit his arm.
“What was that for?!” Jimin yelps, looking at you with astonishment.
“I thought you fucking forgot about the Valentine’s Day!” you yell, slapping his chest. “Why didn't you tell me about this?!”
“Because the definition of surprise says you can’t reveal it sooner?” he reponds in a mocking tone.
“Oh, shut up.” you grumble and pull him in for another kiss. You could feel him smiling into it, cheekily biting onto your lower lip. He places a loving peck on your forehead and brushes the strands of your hair behind your ears. There's so much affection in his eyes you could melt into a puddle right here and there.
“I’m sorry. Jungkook told me you looked upset the whole day.” he whispers.
“I wasn't!” you protest.
“He told me you almost cried when he gave Yeri a bouquet of red roses.”  
This stupid brat.
You look up at Jimin. “Fine. I was mad. And sad. Everyone was having the time of their lives and here I was, on a verge of mental breakdown because my idiot of a boyfriend supposedly forgot about the Valentine's Day.” you say, crossing your arms over chest with a pout.  
Jimin rolls his eyes and takes your hand, leading you to the living room, where a bottle of (your absolute favourite) wine is standing on the table, along with candles and, yes, red roses. It's too cheesy and straight from the cringy rom-coms but you don't mind, because it's Jimin and he poured his heart into this and it's all that matters.
When he approaches you again, he isn’t wearing that stupid apron and you blush at how perfect he looks, almost painfully handsome. His hair needs a cut so it’s pushed back from his forehead. God reincarnated in the form of a smart, cocky archeologist who happens to be your boyfriend.
You're, well, in your black jeans and baby blue sweater and you probably stink, but Jimin assures you with his loving touches he doesn’t mind, never will. He always does that, looking at you with those sparkling eyes which say you're the most beautiful thing in the world for him.
And it doesn't matter how many times you scold him throughout the day, how many banters you have over silly things, because at the end of the day, in each others’ embraces, it feels like home for the both of you.
“Since the chicken chickened out,” Jimin says nonchalantly, filling your glasses with red wine. “We can always get drunk and watch some old romantic movies.”
You smirk. “You cried the last time when we watched ‘When Harry met Sally’.”  
Jimin clicks his tongue. “Don't test my patience, sweetheart or you won't get the presents.” he warns.
You raise your eyebrows. You hope one of them comes in the form of his dick. Suddenly, you’re reminded of your lingerie set, so you make a mental note to wear it after the shower. “Can I see those presents now?” you ask, looking at Jimin with pleading eyes. It's exactly three seconds till he softens.  
“Fine.” he mutters and heads to the bedroom.
When he comes back, he’s not alone. Literally not alone, because he's caring the most hilarious Valentine’s present you could ever think of. A giant, white teddy bear, almost in the size of him, heart-shaped balloons attached to his right paw.
“This is,” Jimin whips his head to read the name on the bear's chest. “Ted.”  
You blink. “You bought me a teddy bear named Ted?”  
Jimin opens his mouth to say some witty comment but he stops when he hears you sob. “Baby, sweetheart, what's wrong?” He kneels in front of you, the bear long forgotten on the floor. You burst into tears and Jimin tries to calm you down, rubbing soothing circles on your thighs.
Once you eventually stop crying and regain your normal breathing, you wipe your tear-strained cheeks and look down at your very much worried boyfriend. “You are an idiot, Park Jimin. A fucking idiot. That teddy bear is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen and I should humiliate you for giving me that but...” You take a deep breath. “But I can’t. Because I fucking love you, dumbass.”
The corners of Jimin lips lift in amusement but you’re clearly not done with your little speech, so he waits until you finish. “You organized the most cliché date ever. You read all the Grey's books. You can’t cook for shit and this stupid apron you wore? God have mercy,” You visibly cringe. “You declaim Greek philosophers when you shower. Fuck, you persuaded me to do teacher-student roleplay and I kept calling you daddy during the whole thing because you asked me to. You are everything I despise but at the same time I love you so much,” you say, tears once again welling in your eyes. “I’m sorry I’m telling you this now, even though I've realised this a long time ago.”
Jimin’s silent, so unlike him, declaring his emotions with a huge grin this time. He stands up and picks your body into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you both to your bedroom. He places you gingerly onto the mattress, hovering over your figure.
(Your fancy lingerie can wait for another occasion.)
“I love you too, ___.” he says, staring into your eyes. “You’re making me the happiest man in this world.”  
You roll your eyes, however there’s no use for that because your cheeks are already tainted red. “Oh, stop being such a sap.”  
He smirks. “You love when I’m like this.”  
“That is, in fact, not true.”  
You’re lying and he knows it, but he always lets you banter with him like this anyway.  
“Then what do you want me to be today?” he asks, his hands travel down to your zipper, then pull down your jeans. “Sweet? Loving?” He helps you take off your sweater and you’re left with nothing on beside your underwear. “Or do you want me to be rough? Push you around and fuck you stupid?” You gulp, your attitude successfully shut down. “Come on, use your words.”  
Somehow, you manage to gain your composure. “Want you to take off your clothes first.”  
Jimin chuckles, lowly and with a promise of more to come if you’re patient and behaving well, according to his commands. “You’re not the one to give orders here, baby.” he retorts. Then, he’s gripping your knees, pulling your legs apart and putting your pussy on full display for him.  
There’s already a dark, wet patch forming on your grey panties and he tsks disapprovingly. “You’re wet and I haven’t even touched you yet. You want it that much, huh?”  
You nod. “Please, touch me.”  
“Try again.”  
So he’s in that mood today. You’ve explored a fair share of kinks with Jimin so far and what you know for sure is that he always takes the leading role in bed. He likes to dominate, be the one in charge, railing you into the mattress until you’re crying out so loud your neighbours are banging on your walls.  
You slip into your role naturally, your usual confident behaviour gone and replaced with timidity. He relishes in seeing you like this, helpless and vulnerable, a stark contrast to how you act on daily basis.  
Jimin pins you with his dark stare and you give in. ‘”Yes, sir.”  
“Good girl.”  
He rewards you with a feather-like touch of his fingers on your pussy. He finds your clit with ease, rubbing it with practiced strokes until more juices drip down from your hole, wetting your panties embarrassingly fast. Your legs shake with want for more, to feel him sink his digits knuckle-deep into your cunt and finger you like he did that one time in a bathroom on your flight to Japan.  
He doesn’t seem the slightest bothered with your state, ignoring your pleading eyes and wanton moans. He hasn’t even taken off your underwear yet and you’re already on the verge of an orgasm.  
Jimin knows your body inside and out, probably better than you do, so it doesn’t come as a surprise to you that he can sense when you’re about to climax. He withdraws his hand from your center seconds before your release. You can’t help but huff with annoyance.
“Something's wrong, babygirl?” he asks, saccharine-sweet and annoyingly innocent.  
Your retort dies on your tongue the moment he decides to unbutton his white dress shirt. You’re too distracted with delicious lines of his sculpted chest to complain about your denied pleasure anymore. Your hands itch to touch him but you stay immobile, devouring him with your eyes instead.  
Jimin notices you're staring and smirks. “Like what you see?”  
You nod. “Yes, sir.”  
He then stands up from the bed and motions for you to come closer. You oblige without an ounce of confusion, crawling until you’re sitting on your heels in front of him. It’s a rather humiliating position but you can’t help but feel the rush of adrenaline in your veins when he cups your chin and tilts your head up.  
“Take off my pants.”  
You rush to obey, unbuckling his belt with shaky hands because you know what’s coming next once his pants are pulled down. He’s already hard, the prominent bulge of his cock straining in his briefs.  
“Now my underwear.”  
You nearly moan out loud when his cock slaps his abdomen, mouth salivating to take him in deep but you don’t dare touch him without a directed instruction. He makes sure your eyes are on him and starts stroking himself, spreading the precum all over his length, hissing when his thumb rubs the sensitive head of his cock.  
Jimin groans, low and throaty, and you whimper quietly in response. “What, baby? You want my cock that much?” he asks, his left palm cupping your cheek. You whisper a meek “Please” and he chuckles. “Come on then. Show me what that slutty mouth of yours can do. Open up.”  
Your lips part on command and you nearly moan when he guides his cock into your mouth. You’ve sucked Jimin's dick enough times to know what he likes, what brings him to the edge quicker than hitting the back of your throat. You lick the tip of his cock, eyes darting to check his reaction and, just as you expected, his features twist in pleasure.  
You relish in a minute or two of the control you have over him before he grows bored with your teasing and decides to fuck your mouth instead. But for now, you make sure to have him suffer a little for that stunt he pulled earlier when he didn’t make you come.  
You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks for extra stimulation. Your hands reach to fondle his balls and you smirk around his cock when you hear a groan leave Jimin's mouth. “Good girl,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek. You lean into his touch, moaning at the praise. “My pretty slut.”  
The first hit on the back of your throat makes you gag because fuck, is he big. The only thing bigger than Jimin's ego seems to be his dick, apparently. When he threads fis fingers through your hair you know what’s about to come; jaw relaxed, saliva dripping down from the corners of your mouth, you’re ready to be ruined.  
He withdraws, giving you exactly five seconds to breathe and then pushes forcefully inside. Your mind is filled with mental images of him giving your pussy the same treatment later. You would whimper at the thought, if your mouth wasn’t stuffed full of dick. Instead, you give your best, swallowing every inch of him obediently.  
“That’s it,” he rasps, clamping one hand on the back of your neck for better leverage. “You’re doing so good, baby.” When he nudges the back of your throat again, you feel him throb. He pulls away from the warmth of your mouth seconds later, panting heavily. He falls back onto the bed and pats his thighs. “Come here.”  
You scoot closer to him and crawl onto his lap. He smiles at you from below, pulling you in for a kiss. The hands he previously gripped your waist with now travel upwards, unhooking your bra. Your hips unconsciously move, pussy gliding along the flexed muscles of his thigh.  
Jimin notices your desperate attempt at getting some friction on your most sensitive parts and helps you rock your hips. He moves your panties to the side and you moan, felling the delicious pressure on your bare center. He’s watching with amusement as you’re falling apart on his thigh, thumb reaching to rub your clit. You cry out, climaxing so hard you’re almost seeing stars behind your closed eyelids.
He keeps helping you ride out your high until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation. “Did you like it?” he then asks, urging you to look at him. “You were so desperate to come, sweetheart. Fucking yourself on my thigh like a bitch in heat,” You whine instead of responding, earning a harsh smack on your ass. “Use your words.”  
Another slap lands on your cheek and you mewl. “Yes, I loved it, sir.”  
He chuckles, maneuvering your body so you’re now positioned over his cock. He gives your ass a firm squeeze and you whimper, arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs despite orgasming just minutes ago. “Ride me, baby.” he says.  
You hurry to obey, guiding his cock inside you. It's a tight fit but your wetness makes it smoother to push him deeper. “So big,” you mumble, bottoming out. You know damn well Jimin likes to be praised and if the smirk that stretches on his lips is anything to go by, he enjoys what you just said. “That feels so good, sir.” You start moving your hips languidly.  
“Yeah?” Jimin quips, hands gripping your waist so tightly it almost makes the skin bruise. “Then show me what a good girl you are for me. Fuck, look at you. You’re so hot.” His palms cup your breasts, thumbs stroking your nipples.  
You keen at the praise and quicken your pace. Your thighs start to burn but you ignore that, bouncing on your boyfriend’s dick like there’s no tomorrow. The room is filled with lewd noises, skin slapping on skin. Jimin looks down, staring at his cock coated in your juices as it disappears inside your hole. He curses at the sight.  
Your legs start to shake, huffs leaving your lips. “Sir–please,” you whine, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.  
“What do you need, babygirl?” he asks, pinching your nipples. You squeal, your pace losing its previous rhythm.  
“I’m so close.” you stammer. “Please–touch me.”  
“Where you do you want me to touch you, baby?” He ignores your whimpers, the way your pussy keeps squeezing his cock in a vice grip. “Here?” He touches your tits again and you shake your head violently. “Or here–” His fingers find your clit and you cry out loudly. You feel so full, his cock hits your cervix every time you drop down onto him.
“Yes, yes,” you chant, mouth wide open and eyes squeezed shut. You probably look right now like a professional porn star but you couldn’t care less, not when you’re so close to the climax. “Sir–fuckfuckfuck, please!”
“There you go,” Jimin coos, circling your sensitive bud with his thumb. “Come for me, baby.”  
You’re gushing around his dick, arousal leaking out of your hole and coating his thighs with your release. Your upper body gives out and you collapse onto Jimin, your cunt pulsing from the intense pleasure you’ve just experienced.  
“Oh god,” you mumble. “I just saw the answer to the whole universe.”  
You feel Jimin's chest shaking with laughter and when you look up, you find him grinning at you. “That good?”  
“That good.” you confirm, sighing tiredly.  
“Are you okay?” You hear him asking. No matter how much he likes to push you around and fuck until you’re seeing stars, he always makes sure if you’re feeling comfortable to continue.  
You spare him a nod. “You know I can handle it,” you say, lifting yourself up. “I’m a tough girl, right?” Despite the oversensitivity, you start rocking your hips again. “M-made for you.”
Jimin smirks. “Yeah, made for me,” he confirms and slaps your ass. Your pussy flatters around his cock. “Not like this,” he mutters and turns you onto your back with one, swift motion. “Much better.”  
You pout. “You didn’t like it when I was riding your cock, sir?” You’re bluffing, but a girl can her fun too.  
He clicks his tongue, guiding his cock through your folds again. “Oh, baby, I was enjoying it very much,” he says, picking up his speed. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer. “But now I want it harder.”  
He fucks you just like he likes the most; fast and rough, unforgiving. He leans down for a messy kiss that’s all teeth tongue and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees his saliva dripping down your chin.  
(He decides right here and there that he might wanna explore his newfound fantasy soon.)
Soon you’re feeling the coil in your stomach tightening for the second time, embarrassingly quickly so. You moan, cunt squeezing around his dick. “Again?” Jimin asks, voice laced with both mirth and disbelief. Tears well in your eyes and you give him a nod. “Such a fucking slut.” he spits, slithering himself into you even faster than before.
Your third and final orgasm is so powerful and sudden, it nearly makes you black out. Jimin curses, fucking you through it. “Kiss me,” you whimper deliriously and he obliges, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. “I love you.” you whisper into his lips and that’s what sends him over the edge.
“I love you, I love you–fuck.” he groans and spills himself inside, coating your pussy with his seed.
He collapses next you, chest heaving with every exhale. Your legs feel like jelly and you know you’ll have trouble walking tomorrow. Just when you’re about to tell Jimin to call in sick and spend the whole day in bed instead, he suddenly sits up.
“Wait, I forgot I have another present for us.” he says, rushing to pick something up from underneath the bed.
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Jimin, I swear to God, if you bought us matching t-shirts–”
He grins like a child, showing you two white pillows, the most basic ones you could ever think of, with ‘his side’ and ‘her side' written on them. It's cringy and ridiculous and you fight an urge to punch him, but you don't.  
Because it's Jimin and you will never complain about it.
Because you love him. And that's all that matters.
418 notes · View notes
beomglocks · 4 years
Text
what soobin is like as a boyfriend
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warnings & other: none i just love him but let’s be honest who doesn’t, this gets cheesy in some parts bc he just gives off stereotypical kdrama bf vibes but guys he’s the one
w/c: round to 1k
ok first off 
sorry if i rant soobin is my baby so ofc i think he’s the perfect boyfriend
he’s so
ugh
ok when you meet him he’s a shy boy
like really won’t wanna look you in the eye
ok like super fucking awkward
like painfully and you’re like “hahah ok that’s cute”
that only applies if you look intimidating tho
if you’re one of those people who’s blessed with not having resting bitch face he’ll be flirty
well you know..
he has his own methods of being flirty
he’s charming in his own way
probably does what yeonjun does but more subtle
stares
will stare at you
and when you make eye contact he smiles and rubs his lip with his finger DJSJSKDK PLZ
alternatively: looks away, purses his lips with a smile, ears get red, looks back up to you already looking at him then he waves
youre left like
“omg he’s so fucking cute”
ok but actually like he will reel you in without you even knowing
next thing you know you’re laughing at his lame ass jokes
god forbid you think he’s funny
“you think I’m funny? well we should date” :)
wait im pretty sure he said he doesnt go after someone unless he knows they like him back
tbh he’d probably wait until you make the first move
or wait until you show interest or else he’ll just hide his feelings
you have to bring him out of his shell
once you do...oh boy
100% never leaving you alone
always telling you how much he loves you
he’s the sweetest
teeth rotting sweet
i feel like he would slowly open up to you during the relationship
he’s not like automatically into it if that makes sense
shy to initiate things at first
such as kissing and touching
asks you if it’s ok first
we love consent
free samples kind of guy
dont take him to an ice cream shop or shops in general
he will devour the free samples
next thing you know you’re leaving with goat cheese and the newest ice cream flavour
he gives hopeless romantic vibes
would want to bake with you in the kitchen
and i know this sounds cliche but
flour fight
he’s cute with it at first
just rubs some flour on your nose then next thing you know
“we turned our dog white”
he’s a simple man
however
he probably spoils you
but not like expensive item type of spoiling he isn’t extravagant
god forbid the price range of any of the items he buys you exceeds his actual paycheck
cute gifts that you’ll actually use and cherish
i dont see many fights happening with him tbh
maybe if you question his leadership choices then i can see a fight happening
for example if you think he couldve handled a situation better in a certain way and you point that out to him he’ll get all defensive
“im the leader of my group dont tell me what you think is best for my group”
then you’re just like “well shit fuck you too i was just tryna help”
i can see him distancing himself after a fight if you’re also feeling a bit aggitated
doesn’t talk to you until it’s literally 2am and neither of you are sleeping bc yall always cuddle and you’re not cuddling him
:(
he’s always the first one to say sorry
my god he makes fun of you so much
not on a beomgyu level though
more of a “if you say something silly i will make you feel so dumb for the rest of the day” kind of clowning
wow jealousy
i feel like he’s not super jealous unless he feels threatened
everything was fine until the fire nation attacked
once he sees you getting a little too buddy buddy with someone else he’s like nah i gotta shut this shit down
he’s humble but once he’s jealous he’s all braggy to make himself seem above who ever was trying to get at you
“yeah i think we ALL-”
boy do you have to comfort this big baby
he’s sensitive :(
hold him and rub his head on his off days
tell him he’s the best boy and it doesnt matter what anyone else thinks screw them
he laughs like 
“shouldnt i be comforting you?” 
soooooooooo sappy
cliche asf boyfriend
buys you flowers
if he could he would be doing the whole radio outside your window thing (side note: yeonjun would too be he’s whipped asf)
college bf (we saw it coming)
see also: college bf who helps you in what he can and tells you to screw math bc you don’t need it anyways
shows up at your school or job after his practice
everyone loves him
everyone
you gotta be on guard 24/7
i wouldnt say you’d be insecure per se but soobin definietly lacks awareness when it comes to being flirted with
he recognizes others advances but laughs awkwardly, forgetting to tell the person he already has a partner
~cue mild argument~
at the end of it all he’s like “dont worry i only like you jeez”
if he’s working on a song he asks for your input
or rather how would you interpret a certain emotion that he isn’t able to convey
just to joke around, if he has to write a song about heartbreak but neither of you have been through that he’ll be like
“well there’s a first for everything :)”
soobin 100% takes the time to learn about your culture
he’s invested what can i say
introducing you to the other members isn’t THAT bad
but they definitely clown soobin
txt: “how come your partner is cooler than our own leader”
“maybe they should lead us instead” (joke)
soobin’s like fuck yall i can be cool :(
always send you cute selfies
with messages along the lines of
“i miss you :((((”
“bring ice cream on your way back!”
“be safe tho xxx”
he gives embarassing dad vibes
you can’t introduce him to your friends !
since he has you around he isn’t too shy and once he engages in conversation you better pack your bags
he’s trying to be funny (keyword: trying) but really it’s just your friends laughing to not make the hot idol bf not feel bad
you help him with his script for music bank
speaking of music bank
yes, yes, you are clowning him like the rest of txt and he comes home like
“not you too :(((((((”
hueningkai
my goodness hueningkai
yall tussle over soobin’s attention
sometimes it feels like youre sharing soobin with kai
you love them both but youre like “kai sweetie it’s cold and i wanna be the one to cuddle my bf so please”
speaking of cuddles 
best cuddles
ones where he’s wearing a really comfortable sweater that’s actually nice material and your face gets buried in his chest 
his limbs will be tangled in yours no doubt
but wow he’s so warm you almost never wanna let go
they don’t call him “home” for nothing
tall boy
makes fun of you if you’re shorter than him
yes he does tease you by placing items on higher-than-you-can-reach shelves
kick his shins he’ll give in
you: ”hows the weather up there”
him: “nice actually but you wouldnt know now would you :)”
tell him your problems, tell him anything
he will listen
and i mean let-you-ramble-for-hours kind of listen
but at the end of it his input is always valuable and he isn’t judgemental
he’s a good listener and gives good advice!!!
he’s not the leader for no reason put some damn trust in him!
521 notes · View notes
lightsovermonaco · 3 years
Text
His Good Sweater: Chapter 12
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Masterlist
Winding down from the frenzy of the last chapter... Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit​ for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤
Word Count: 5.9k
Recommended song: "I Don't Care" by Fall Out Boy
“Mon amour, wake up.”
Pierre’s sleep-heavy voice rouses you from the best sleep you’d had in a long time. You’d fallen asleep to the sounds of his even breathing under the soothing touch of his thumb tracing patterns on your side.
You crack your eyes open to see him silhouetted by the white light of the waning moon, his bare chest left uncovered by the blanket slung low over his hips. The sight alone has your mind instantly jumping into overdrive, fighting the need to sleep with the need to continue ogling the bare skin a foot from your face.
“I let you sleep as long as I could,” he says softly, reaching behind him for his phone. “We have to be on the M1 in about half an hour.”
“Mmmph,” you groan, snuggling back under the blanket and closer to him, chasing the warmth radiating from him. “The sun isn’t even out.”
His chuckle shakes the bed. “I figured you would say that which is why I made you breakfast and picked out your clothes. All you have to do is brush your teeth and get dressed.” 
You hum appreciatively and press a kiss to his bare sternum. “Is this how you’re going out today? Because I won’t complain but you might cause a few heart attacks.” A kiss to your temple is a small reward for your comment, as well as a concession.
"Don't worry, this is reserved only for you." He stretches an arm above his head, grinning when your eyes immediately are drawn to the way the muscles ripple and pull under his skin. You stare shamelessly as he flexes a little for your benefit, the action going straight to your head. 
"As it should be." You bite your lip and let your fingertips dance over his chest, memorizing the way it rises and falls so predictably with each deep breath. Against your better judgement you trail kisses up over his pectoral and spot them along his shoulder, dragging another light chuckle from him.
"My love," he warns, voice tinted with mischief, "we don't have time."
"Oh I think we do." You continue your path over his collarbone and to the hollow of his throat. Taking advantage of his biggest weakness, you flick your tongue over his prominent adam’s apple. The move has his hand engulfing your upper arm, giving you a warning squeeze.
"As wonderful as this is" -he sucks in a sharp breath when your teeth graze his neck- "if I'm late Horner will kill me."
"What's new?" You say, but draw back. The mere mention of his name made you see red and shattered the moment. "Do you really want to go back to Red Bull after how they treated you?"
"No," he admits, slipping an arm around you and tugging you up and into a sitting position, taking advantage of the momentary lapse of lust. "But if I want a shot with a top team when my contract is up, I don’t have much choice."
"Where do you see yourself going?"
Pierre studies you as you slip into the clothes he had selected for you. Nothing fancy, just an AlphaTauri branded navy and white hoodie and some light wash jeans. You don't miss the way his lips twitch upward when you notice it's his hoodie, his last name embroidered in block font on the cuff a dead giveaway even if the hoodie hadn't been ridiculously oversized on you.
Cheeky bastard.
"I think I would look good in sunshine yellow," he remarks. You make a show of looking him up and down under the pretense of imagining him in a Renault branded hoodie or their signature black race suit. Truthfully it was just another excuse to drink him in like the fine wine he was and recall how he had tasted on your tongue last night.
He would look good in any color on the grid but you don't grant him the satisfaction of pointing that out. Instead, you lean forward to toy with the waistband of the jeans he had hastily buttoned seconds earlier. "You and Daniel get along just fine." You snag him by the belt loops and yank him forward back onto the bed. "I think you should go to McLaren.”
“I’d still look good in orange.”
You wind your fingers under his waistband. “I think you’d look best wearing nothing at all, actually.”
“The time,” Pierre protests lightly when you pop open the button and undo the zipper. He groans when you yank the denim down around his thighs, finally submitting to your touch and lacing his fingers in your hair. Your lips explore the planes of his abdomen, any and all thoughts of speed abandoned on your end. "If you don't hurry up we're gonna be late."
"Maybe you'll just have to drive fast. I hear you’re good at that."
**********
"So how is it that they got your car all the way to London?"
"It's got its own private jet."
You roll your eyes and smack the hand resting on your thigh. His response is a light squeeze and a chuckle before he continues, "They've got a few spares they keep around for when drivers come to town. I can't be seen in a Mini or it would cause a scandal."
"Oh yes it would be quite tragic." His hand charts a dangerous path along your thigh. He knows exactly what he's doing as he slots a thumb between your legs and presses it tight to the apex of your thighs.
You snap your knees shut, effectively trapping his hand "Now you're just being cruel."
"Only dishing out what you did this morning," he points out and wiggles his hand free to rest on your knee instead. The message was clear: he had shaken you well enough for his liking and was perfectly content to leave you frustrated until he could get you home.
“So catch me up on what I’ve missed,” you say, determined to distract yourself from Pierre’s slight teasing. “What’s new in the life of the rising star in Formula 1?”
“Rising star,” Pierre mumbles and rolls his eyes. “Not yet, my love. Getting there, but not yet.”
“Please, you’re too modest. Last night when you fell asleep- you were out like a light as soon as your head hit the pillow, don't give me that look!” Pierre picks his jaw up off the floor and shakes his head as you continue, “I read plenty of articles that called you the next big thing, right up there with Max.”
The comparison didn't seem to sit right with him. He shifts in his seat, rolling words over on his tongue. “I’m sure you’re caught up then. I haven’t done anything really besides train and race.”
“I did notice you’ve beefed up a bit.”
“Yet another reason to thank Pyry.”
“At this point I should send him a fruit basket for his trouble.”
“Maybe you should.” Pierre grins, hand leaving your thigh for a split second to upshift. “What about you? How’s year four treating you?”
“Ugh, don’t get me started,” you groan. “My senior project is already killing me and I’ve only just started it. We have to design a building from the ground up- I mean I like architecture but I’m trying to be an engineer, not an architect. I dunno why I have to be the one to design a building! At this point it’s just a brick box.”
“Sounds challenging,” Pierre notes, flooring it when he merges onto the highway. Though the speed makes your stomach flip, you don’t miss a beat.
“My team doesn’t do much either, I’ve been doing most of it. I could rant for hours about it.”
Pierre glances at the clock, then back to you. The blue of his eyes is blocked by his signature purple tinted sunglasses, shielding them from the rising sun that casts him in a warm orange glow. “Humor me. We’ve got time.”
The hour and a half drive was by no means dull with Pierre's teasing touches and endless string of questioning along the way. He asked after every aspect of your life that had transpired in the last four months, only stopping you once in a while to interject with an opinion or anecdote.  He didn't stop at your life either, even asking after Ben's relationship. You'd been happy to report that he had indeed wooed his crush and had officially asked him to be his boyfriend.
"Those secret French lessons paid off," Pierre jokes as he pulls up to the imposing glass fronted building that served as Red Bull Racing's headquarters. The sweeping curve of the entrance was flanked on either side by two-story red and yellow bulls; proof that the team's dramatics extended far past the track. Anyone approaching for the first time would have been intimidated by the sheer size of them that suggested they were ready to stomp on their competition at a moment’s notice.
“Guess it’s time.” You sigh and undo your seatbelt and fiddle with the buckle, doing your best to stall. There was no reason to be this nervous. You were no one to these people; the focus would be entirely on Pierre. You would be an afterthought, not that you minded because it made it easier to fade into the background. 
Pierre picks up on your hesitation in a heartbeat. “I’ll keep them off your back,” he promises and you nod, the single sentence taking the edge off. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” You reach for the door handle but Pierre tsks and you pause.
"You know better." You bite your lip to keep back the grin fighting its way to the surface as he comes around to open your door. He offers you his hand and you gladly take it and are pleasantly surprised when he threads his fingers through yours and heads for the entrance.
The atrium serving as the lobby is breathtakingly gorgeous. You had to hand it to the interior designer; they knew what they were doing. Sleek white marble floors are accented by red and yellow leather chairs scattered in small groups throughout the grand space. A tiered circular modern interpretation of a chandelier hangs above to offer guidance to the accountants, engineers and artists that weave through the lobby on their way to their respective wings or offices.
A waist high, glass front cabinet of drivers helmets serves as the reception desk. The unmistakable scent of a fresh cup of coffee hits you as you approach and the secretary hands a steaming paper cup to someone before they scurry off, presumably to a private office if they were important enough to warrant special attention. The first rays of morning sunlight glint off the silver Red Bull logo inlaid in the black marble behind the woman at the counter, making you squint.
"Bonjour Monsieur Gasly," she says in perfect French. "Ça va?"
"Bien," he says simply and switches to English for your benefit. "Has Christian come through yet?"
"He has," the woman says, glancing sidelong at you. Whatever conclusions she draws about you are insignificant enough that she writes you off immediately, angling her body towards Pierre and resting her chin in her hand. The posturing puts her ample chest on display, nearly spilling out of her billowing blouse, but Pierre's eyes don't wander. "He's not expecting you yet. Voulez-vous un cafe?"
"I'm good." The woman may have been determined to alienate you but Pierre was having none of it. Pierre turns to you, a grin playing on his face. This was your first test as an official couple and he intended to see how you handled it. "How about you, my love? Coffee?"
The woman's eyes slip to where your hand remains clasped in his. She cocks her head so slightly you think you might be imagining it until Pierre's grip tightens, a silent encouragement. Your confidence soars. If this was how Daniel's girlfriend felt when the two of them were out, you finally understood why they didn't hide. It was a rush knowing that everyone wanted Pierre but he only wanted you. No matter how blatantly women threw themselves at him, there was no doubt in your mind that he would never give a single one of them the light of day.
It was about damn time you afforded him the same unwavering commitment as he had shown you.
"No thank you," you reply sweetly with a mocking smile directed to the woman. You lean in and drop your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You might want to fix your shirt though, it’s… slipped. I know I'd hate for that to happen to me and no one tell me, especially at work. I don't think I'd ever recover from it."
Her face immediately turns scarlet as she stands straight and folds her arms over her chest. "If I were you-"
"Let Horner know I'm here," Pierre interrupts and it's somehow the hottest thing he's ever said. His purely commanding tone leaves no room for argument. 
"Of course," she replies with a sharp smile in your direction that makes your spine stiffen. "Good luck. Christian is in rare form this morning."
"Just ignore it," Pierre murmurs and sweeps his thumb over the back of your hand as he leads you across the cold marble and down a carpeted hall. "You handled that well.”
“I may have gotten a few pointers from Daniel’s lover.” Your soft smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The short interaction had sapped most of your confidence, leaving you on uneven footing. “I would rather not have to deal with that again soon though.”
“I can handle the women easy enough when I know I’ve got you to come home to.”
The tightness in your chest eases further when the hall opens into another startlingly white space, this time packed with rows and rows of navy cubicles. But that's not where your attention is drawn- instead, your gaze is immediately snagged by the case of trophies towering high along the back wall. Cups of every shape and size shine within, each one representing a different podium for the team achieved in various years and tracks.
"There must be over a hundred," you breathe, mesmerized by the glinting silver and intricate craftsmanship. The case was easily thirty feet tall and you had to crane your neck to catch a glimpse of the ones in the top row. Each one told a story of blood, sweat and tears, each one earned by a driver who had made countless sacrifices to be where they were and finish on a podium.
"A hundred and eighty five to be exact," he counters, laughing at your amusement. "Your inner architect is screaming isn't it?"
"Only a little." 
Pierre laughs outright at your white lie and tugs you along. "You can stare on the way out. I'll even show you which ones were Max's."
"Did you memorize what all his trophies look like?"
"Hey, meetings with engineers get boring. It's one of the more interesting ways to occupy your time when they are going on and on about fluid mechanics and thermodynamics- you know, stuff you understand but not me."
"Oh whatever, you enjoy those meetings and you know it."
"Only a little," he quotes.
People recognize him as you pass and some nod or give a simple greeting as they go about their morning but no one stops him to chat. The air feels a bit hostile, like no one knows what to do with him now that he's walking through the building after a nearly two year absence.
"Do you miss it?" You ask after he smiles at someone for the millionth time. 
"I miss the team," he admits, "but not the management culture. My team was great- they supported me any way they could but it didn't help that Horner didn't exactly encourage them to believe in me. It's hard to crank out results when there's no one on your side."
"I'm on your side," you point out, nudging him with your hip. "You've got me forever, no takesies backsies."
"I'm grateful for it," he murmurs and gives your hand a squeeze. He hadn't let go once; not when he had to open a door or the two of you had to walk single file to let people pass.
The building was a labyrinth and if it wasn't for Pierre you'd have been lost the moment you set foot inside. He navigates the twisting halls with ease, having no need for the countless signs posted along the way.
He leads you up a set of steel stairs after what seems like ages. When he knocks on a heavy oak door, his grip on your hand turns possessive like he suspects the office’s occupant would try to rip you away from him. 
“Morning.”
God, even the one word makes rage simmer in your veins. The voice precedes the man and Christian Horner swings open the door, a plastic smile splitting his face. He doesn't bother acknowledging you with a greeting, instead addressing his driver directly.
“I wasn’t expecting you to bring a guest.”
“A pretty face was needed around here,” Pierre snaps back without missing a beat. You bristle, free hand curling into a fist. If there was one person you didn’t mind teaching a lesson to, it was Horner. He had little respect for anyone he viewed as disposable- up to and including “underperforming” drivers.
Christian raises an eyebrow. “Sure. She can wait out here- you and I have terms to discuss.”
Fine, Horner wanted to play dirty? So could you. When it came to staring him down, you became fearless. He was the one person you refused to let intimidate you.  
Drawing on your newly minted confidence you smile up at Pierre and silence the protest forming on his tongue with a grin. “Gimme a kiss, race winner.”
Pierre doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours. Cupping a hand to the back of his neck you draw him in and nip at his lower lip. The hand on your hip tightens at Christian's scoff but Pierre makes no move to break away. You linger a moment longer than necessary to drive your point home: you didn’t care what Horner had to say about you, you were here to stay and he would have to get used to it.
Pierre gives you a small, blissed out smile before dropping your hand and following Horner inside. The door clicks but doesn't shut all the way, Pierre leaving it cracked for your benefit.
Uninterested in eavesdropping on small talk, you lean on the metal railing to observe the research and development garage coming to life on the floor below. Hybrid engines in various stages of disassembly dot the space, small teams of mechanics and engineers tweaking components to reduce weight or increase horsepower. Pistons and valves are scrutinized and exchanged before being placed under stress to test their strength.
An FIA official in a red jacket wove through the garage to observe and jot notes down on a clipboard. He looks over the shoulder of an engineer pouring over formulas on a whiteboard, startling him when the official asks a question. Someone calls your name from below and you search for the origin, finally spotting the woman and waving back at her.
Management may have their qualms with Pierre but it was clear there were still some within the team that had his back. They were likely the same ones that knew he would have to leave the Red Bull umbrella to find any semblance of success. They may not have possessed the guts to stick their necks out for him when Horner had cut him but they were at least happy to see him back around headquarters.
"You sure you'll rise to the challenge?" Horner's question drags you back to the mezzanine. 
"I'll take seventh. I'm only a few points away and we have plenty of races left."
He had five races to catch up to be exact. Pierre currently was comfortably ahead of the pack in ninth, Sainz was only three points ahead in eighth, and Norris ten points beyond in seventh. It would only take a DNF or two from his rivals and a few podiums to pass them up.
"Right," Horner starts. "There's a reason you've done so well this season and it's not luck. You've been racing exceptionally well and I don't want that to change."
"If there's something on your mind just get on with it." Pierre's voice is calm and collected in a way yours wouldn't be if you had been in his shoes. You've been dying to rip into Horner since the day he wrote Pierre off.
"There's been a fire in you the past few months since she has been gone-"
"Leave her out of this."
The tone sends a chill down your spine. It maintains the same level headedness that Pierre had perfected over the years and you had come to expect when he was backed against a wall, but it was laced with an unspoken threat. The intent was clear: he would walk out and abandon his chance for a seat at Red Bull if it meant protecting you.
You creep to the door to peer through the crack. Horner crosses his arms, a sly smile on his face. "You would sacrifice your chance at a championship winning seat for her? Everything you've worked so hard for, gone in a flash, because of her?"
"Without question," Pierre answers immediately. The conviction and commitment behind it nearly makes you stumble. "I'm sure there's plenty of other teams that would love to have me after the season I've had. She’s not going anywhere, so either you stop disrespecting her or I walk out."
You clench your fists, ready to burst in and demand Pierre stop being a fucking idiot. His long term plan saw him at another top team that would take care of him and nurture his skill- a long stint at Red Bull Racing was never in the cards. It wasn't an environment for everyone. Some people like Max thrived in it, letting the toxicity roll off their backs but for Pierre it was a cruel form of punishment. However, a seat at Red Bull for the 2022 season could mean the difference between an offer from Alpine and an offer from Haas when his contract was up for renewal. 
The idea of seeing his number stickered to the floor in a Red Bull garage excites and intimidates you. Last time he hadn't been given the chance to prove himself. Would they still hold that against him? Knowing Christian, he probably would. On the other hand, it meant that they admitted their mistake in cutting him mid-season, whether they said it outright or not.
Pierre's redemption day was on the horizon and you couldn't wait to see the look on Horner's face when he finally won. And the longer Christian stays silent, the more potent the urge to throttle him grows. 
Christian gives a slow clap. "Now there's the unwavering commitment that was missing during round one."
Your heart hammers in the dead silence as papers are shuffled. "Here's the contract. Terms are as discussed, you secure seventh in the world championship in 2021 and the second seat at Red Bull Racing is yours for the entire calendar in 2022. No demotions, substitutions, or shuffling of drivers unless medically necessary or mutually agreed upon by all affected parties."
"And the same spec car as the number one seat," Pierre insists, spine straight. "Same strategy." 
Christian waves a hand. "Yes, that's in there too. Feel free to take a moment and read it over."
He does, allowing Christian time to pour a knuckle of whiskey and set the glass before Pierre. He pours himself an identical glass and waits until Pierre signs and initials all the boxes before raising it in acknowledgement.
"Congratulations. Welcome back to Red Bull- conditionally."
Pierre leaves the glass untouched and remains silent, staring his potential future team principal down. He gives the man no margin to question his abilities further, conveying all he needs to with a look that would have had you shaking at the knees. Even if you can't see his face, wrath radiates from him in waves and you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it when it explodes.
"Right then." Christian lowers the glass, his fake smile vanishing. "I look forward to seeing what you can do."
"Don't worry. I'll deliver."
You step back and allow him to set the mood as he exits the office and slams the door behind him. Pierre sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. "You heard all of that right?"
You nod. "You wouldn't have really walked out, right?"
"I almost did."
He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like you should know that he would choose you over all of this, that all of his dreams and everything he had sacrificed to achieve them thus far meant less to him than you did. How many times did he have to prove his unwavering commitment before you realized it was true?
Pierre laces his fingers through yours, the heat welcomed by your ice cold skin. It was as much a comfort to you as it was to him. "I just have to grab some things from Max's office and then we can head out."
His jaw is still set after his stand off with Christian and you want nothing more than to ease his mind. Publicly comforting him with a touch to his chest or a kiss to his neck was out of the question so you settle on temporary distraction.
"Hey, you know what I want to see?"
"What's that?"
"That room full of all the old chassis. You know, the one that they hold all the fancy virtual events in? I wanna see those."
"I think I should be able to get you back there." He veers down a hall and you yelp, pulled along by his momentum. His attitude brightens a little at your laugh. The grin he throws your way is your own personal sun, warming your soul. 
"Hey- hold on." You pull him to a stop and lead him into an alcove. The inch of space between your chests is charged with electricity, begging to jump from one to the other.
"Can I help you?" He asks and grins down at you.
"No," you say nonchalantly. "Just wanted to be selfish for a second."
You rise up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He melts into you, one hand coming up to cup your jaw while the other finds the small of your back. You side your tongue over his lower lip and he presses you against the door leading to who knew where and opens his mouth to you. You sigh into the kiss, arms winding around his neck and losing yourself in him.
Now that you had gotten over your anxiety, everything was so much easier. You know there's press roaming about the building and any number of them could pass by at any moment but you genuinely couldn't care less. Let them talk; you were over caring what anyone thought or said.
All that mattered was the man beneath your fingertips. You would endure a lifetime of insults if he was the one to soothe the wounds afterwards. As long as you both were happy, no one could come between you ever again.
Pierre pulls away when someone passes by and coughs quietly.  "You're trouble," he murmurs, leaving an arm propped next to your head and effectively caging you in.
"And you're dangerous," you tease, tugging on his hair and exposing his throat enough to nip at it once. "Together we're the perfect pair."
He groans and leans away. "Keep that up and I might have to stay in London an extra week."
You slip out of his grasp and give him an unrestrained grin. "Don't threaten me with a good time." You spin on your heel and set off down the hall, swaying your hips a little more than necessary.
"You know where you're going?" He calls after you.
"Someone will point me in the right direction, I'm sure."
"Someone like me." He catches up to you and once again takes your hand in his. He was enjoying showing you off almost as much as you enjoyed hanging on him.
"Maybe we should head right to Max's office and hurry home, huh?"
"Maybe-"
"Pierre, there you are."
You both turn to a woman hustling up the hall after you. She’s slight and her brown curls bounce as she jogs to where the two of you pause at a bend. You glance up to Pierre to see if he's just as confused as you are.
"Hey Mary," he says cheerily. "How are you? Sorry I didn't check in with you when I got here."
"Oh it's fine- why aren't you in the Alpha samples I sent?” The woman props a fist on her hip and tips her head to the side. “I think I got your size right now that I’ve laid eyes on you. I was hoping for a shoot today since you've finally come by."
It takes you a moment to register that she's addressing you. You shoot Pierre a look and he offers you a tentative, closed off smile. "Um, what Alpha gear?"
The woman's chocolate brown eyes go wide. "The ones I've been sending to Pierre. Hoodies, dresses, jackets. All the stuff from the new line. They have been sending the samples to you, right?"
"Um, yeah I've gotten them," Pierre says, rubbing his neck. "I haven't given them to her though."
"Oh, I see!” Pink tinges Mary’s cheeks. “I must have missed a memo. I just thought that you'd want to do a shoot with her today, since we already had a quick one planned for you. After all, you talk about her all the time."
"He does?"
Mary nods. "Oh yes, we've all heard plenty about you. You're lucky to have someone so enamored with you. I just dropped off some more samples in Max's office as a little thank you for letting us steal him so often-"
"Okay, thank you Mary," Pierre says abruptly. "I'll get back to you on that."
Pierre steers you away and down the hall. "What was she talking about? Why would they want me to come by for a photo shoot?"
Pierre runs a hand through his hair and pauses outside Max's office. The Dutchman must have been away because Pierre pulls out his key and fits it in the lock. "I just- come on."
He waves you inside and you obey, letting him close the door and grant you some semblance of privacy before continuing. 
"I never formally told anyone that we broke up. Most people came to their own conclusions once they didn't see you around for a while. Some people didn't get the message. Obviously Mary was one of them. I would still talk about you, I couldn't help myself. There was one shoot where Yuki and I were together and he mentioned off hand that you'd be a good brand ambassador. I tried to explain that it wouldn't work but Mary wouldn't hear it and she just kept sending me more and more samples.”
You draw a breath and interrupt his rambling. “But where-”
"I had it all in a box in my office but I struggled to concentrate with a reminder of you hanging over my head. I sent it over here to Max and that's where it's sat ever since. I used the excuse that Max was in town more often than I was and no one read too far into it."
"Why didn't you tell me?" You whisper. "I would've taken them. I'm sure you got an earful from Mary."
"Would you have?” Pierre pauses, your silence in the face of his frustration speaking volumes. “I waited four months to hear from you. Tell me that sending you thousands of dollars in unreleased merch wouldn't have made you even more hesitant to come back to me."
Not knowing what else to say, you let your gaze fall to the carpet. Sending you expensive things would have felt something like a bribe, like he was trying to influence you with fancy clothes.
Pierre shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, it’s in the past now. We can take it home today and you can wear it when I take you for dinner and Alpha will get the press they’re after. Everyone will be happy.”
He wasn’t happy. That much was plain to see. He hadn’t been able to stomach seeing something intended for you, even that minute of a reminder had been too much for him to bear. God, you had thoroughly wrecked him. You were lucky that there were still enough pieces of him left to heal. 
“I didn’t realize you were hurting so bad,” you say, voice barely above a whisper as you cross the cramped space to him, stepping over piles of strewn paperwork carefully so as to not disturb whatever random order they were placed in. You don’t dare reach out to touch him as his shoulders slump, any and all forward momentum he’d gathered suddenly sapped.
“It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever gone through.”
Unable to let him suffer alone with his thoughts, you wrap your arms around his middle and let your cheek rest between his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to alienate you. I was waiting for you, too.”
“You needed space and I gave it to you.” His hand rests on your arm with a gentleness you’ve come to expect when he lays himself bare like this. “There were so many times I almost gave in to the impulse and just messaged you but I made myself wait. I didn’t want to rush it and make things worse. You always need time to think things through- I knew you would come around eventually. It didn’t make it any easier though.”
You rub soothing circles on his side as you blink back the tears that spring to your eyes. “I’m sorry I put you through that. I’m sorry I took so long and I’m sorry I made you wait. It had to have been torture-”
He turns in your embrace and cups your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The pad of his thumb sweeps across your cheek, the metal of the ring on his middle finger biting into your flushed skin. “It’s alright. You had a lot to sort through and I had to respect that.”
“We lost so much time-”
“Hey,” he says softly, ducking his head to meet your eyes. “We’re together now. If there’s one thing I’m sure of it’s that you can’t let missed opportunities control you or else you’ll never be happy.”
You nod, swiping your sleeve under your eyes. “What did they send?” you ask, nodding towards the box overflowing with tan and navy threads.
“Pull up a chair,” Pierre suggests, “there’s a lot.”
You roll over Max’s desk chair and tug on Pierre’s arm. Once he gets the picture and sits, you settle in his lap. He winds an arm around your middle, the close contact already soothing your frazzled nerves.
“That better?” he murmurs.
“Much better.”
@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @ricciartodododo​
If you have asked to be tagged in the past and I missed you I apologize! Just comment below and I’ll get you added for future updates. Thanks for reading ❤
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robinofinashiro · 4 years
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request from anonymous: “hello! May i request for a levi fic where his female s/o sneaks out when he's asleep and sneaks in when he wakes up but he notices it. She seems like she's cheating and he gets hella angsty about it but when he thinks he's gonna catch her, it turns out she was planning an anniversary surprise with the help of their friends and he gets hella soft :> modern au or not depends on you hehe” 
pairing: levi ackerman x fem! reader (modern au)
note: omg, i’m a fuckin dumbass and read that as birthday instead of anniversary. i hope it’s okay if that’s what i wrote instead. 
request status: CLOSED
it had been going on for a few days now. you would sneak out of bed at random hours of the night, sometimes going to bed extremely late and not return back until almost the crack of dawn. 
Levi hated to think and assume things but a gut feeling was starting to form. He tried to suppress it but his mind started racing whenever he would feel you leave the bedroom when you assumed he was asleep and not come back or when you would tell him you were going to hang with Hanji but he saw them not even a few hours later alone. 
he confided in Erwin, hoping he would calm down what Levi was thinking but neither him or Hanji would try to deny it. they would just claim he was being a bit paranoid and he should have more faith in his wife. 
Levi loved you. more than he ever thought he would love anyone else. you were there for him when his mother passed. when his two closest friends passed. you knew everything about him and you knew he NEVER confided this much of his past on anyone that wasn’t Hanji or Erwin. 
you were one of the newest teachers at Scout Academy. you were the newest teacher in what felt like years. you were there to be the trainee’s newest commander and although the position had been vacant for a while now, when you arrived, it was kind of a shock to the entire academy. 
you were sweet, soft spoken, and extremely friendly. you weren’t like Hanji who tended to scare people of with their rants about science. you sure weren’t Levi who just scared people in general, and as for Erwin, being that he was at the head of the chain of command, no one really sought out to be his friend. 
you tended to make friends with everyone who ranked beneath the three. Moblit and Petra being your closest friends. 
the day you unintentionally got close with Levi was one he wasn’t even expecting to happen. you had been dealing with a rowdy group of new trainee’s and weren’t able to calm them down for whatever reason that day. they weren’t just listening to you and every time you tried to reprimand them, they would go back to doing whatever they were doing. 
“hey Levi?” you asked, knocking softly on his door. he heard your voice from the opposite side and welcomed you in, “I don’t mean to intrude on your work time but the 108th is acting extremely out of hand right now and won’t listen to what i’m saying. I would get Erwin but I don’t think it’s that bad.” 
Levi shoved himself away from his desk and marched to where you were training the kids. upon his arrival, some realized that Levi walked in, however; others didn’t and continued their shenanigans. 
Levi walked to the nearest rowdiest kid and flipped him to the ground, shoving his boot to his jacket so he wouldn’t get up. 
“all of you going to be here, cleaning, training, and following mine and her orders until dinner starts and after that, you’ll be doing laps around the facility until it’s time head back to your bunkers.” 
they were all shaking in fear as Levi screamed at them to get started on doing their training regiment. you stood on the side, instructing them on what they were doing wrong or what they could improve on. 
he could see that although you were angry at your students, you couldn’t treat them the way Levi did. you saw the trainee’s almost as your kids and even though they reached your last nerve, you continuously praised them for getting something right. 
Levi’s office was right next door to your training facility so he heard your commands now and again and he couldn’t help but wonder how you got to handle your trainee’s to listen to you so well without screaming at them sometimes. 
“where did you come from before this?” Levi asked you suddenly. you smiled, taking a sip of your tea, “oh, I worked for the Military Police Brigade for six years prior to this,” he shuttered at your confession, “I worked right under Nile Dok as his second in command until he retired and put Hitch in charge. she changed my position to work in another section and I quit not even a few days after.” 
Levi laughed at the disorganization that came from the Military Brigade. he knew that out of everyone, they were seen as the lowest of the three ranks so to hear that you came from the most prestige rank to work with them, he couldn’t help but want to rub salt in the Brigade’s wound. 
“right.” 
“and I must admit, the Scouts is a lot less than crazier than I thought it would be. everyone who found out of my position change told me that the Scouts wasn’t the job for me because of my prior experience with the military police but if I’m being honest, the Scouts is a lot less judgemental and I must say, less hectic.” 
the lunch bell rang indicating that everyone was due on break for an hour. after you dismissed your trainee’s, you looked to Levi. 
“would you like to have lunch with me? I brought more than enough from what I made last night!” you asked excitedly. Levi’s mind raced for a moment, “sure.” 
he followed you to where your office was placed. it was in the second story office level where Petra’s and Moblit’s offices were. the highest floor was placed for only Erwin, Levi, and Hanji so he hardly made it down to where their assistants worked at. 
Levi saw the few plaques that were hanging on your wall. they were all of your accomplishments from when you worked with the brigade. the shiny green unicorn made his scoff until he saw your photo. it was you holding the certificate from when you first got approved to work with the brigade as you dawned the brown jacket with your last name etched on it. 
“I made beef stew! I hope you like it. I cooked the meat in a Instapot cooker all day and the meat turned out really soft and moist,” you explained as you poured copious amounts on a disposable bowl, “I was saving some for Moblit and Hanji but since you did help me out, I figured it would be my way of repaying you!” 
you put the plate in front of him as the two of you sat on the small wood table. Levi unintentionally moaned making you spit out in laughter. your laugh caught the attention of Hanji and Moblit who were going to have lunch together to discuss a few things in his office. 
“hey, Captain Levi is in Vice Captain ( your name )’s office!” Moblit explained as he saw you hyperactively talking to Levi. Hanji immediately turned around, basically rushing to the small window you had that. 
they saw Levi’s ghost of a smile on his face as he just nodded to whatever you were talking about. Hanji’s eyes widened, knowing they were not going to be able to keep this to themselves. 
Levi felt you get out of bed, getting quickly dressed in outwear before running out of the room and go into your car. he sighed, sitting at the edge of his bed, running his hand through his hair as he slipped on a shirt and grabbed the second set of keys for his car. 
he wanted to follow you so he could finally get confirmation on his assumptions. a part of him didn’t want his suspicions to be true but Levi knew that if he didn’t get answers, he would explode on you. 
your location on your phone was still on so it didn’t take an idiot to find you but when he finally saw your location, his heart dropped to his stomach. you were at Erwin’s second office across town.
that office was only used for extreme and dire situations. like when the Military Police and the Garrison Regiment had to gather together to handle something together. 
were you cheating on him with Erwin? and using his second office as the place to have your escapades? 
Levi’s heart felt like it was about to break as he saw Erwin’s car parked in the parking lot. your car was right next to his. 
the brutal winter made the wind hit his face and feel like it was about to burn. he hated that you had to do all of this so you could have an affair with his boss, especially because the holiday season was literally about to approach and he had gotten you one of the most perfect gifts. 
a promise ring. 
Levi entered the building, heading into Erwin’s office to catch a recording of your cheating session so he could have solid proof when he finally confronted you about it. 
as he opened his phone, he felt a stray tear roll down his face as he saw the photo of you two as his background. you were giving him an annoyingly happy kiss on the cheek as his face said that he was extremely annoyed at the situation, however; the smile that played said different. 
Levi put his ear to the door, expecting some moans and whispers of each others names but what he heard was the complete opposite. 
he heard Hanji screaming about something as you tried to quiet her down. 
“Hanji, pay attention!” you yelled, “Levi’s birthday is on Christmas and since I don’t really feel like celebrating it on the 25th, I booked his venue for the 28th which is a Saturday night. I want everyone who works with us to attend but since it’s a surprise, Erwin you’re going to have to make sure to keep him occupied.”  
Levi’s heart swelled hearing what you were saying. you weren’t cheating, you were planning his fucking birthday! 
he kept hearing the plans until he realized that all of you could walk out at any minute and catch him. Levi quickly got into his car, rushing back home as he saw that your location said you were on the move. 
Levi felt himself physically sigh in relief that all of his assumptions were wrong. a bit later, he felt the bed slump down as you got into bed and snuggled into his chest. your hands were still cold from the wind but he immediately brought you into his brace, feeling you melt in his arms. 
maybe that promise ring had to be changed into something else.  
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stxrshxpxd · 4 years
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professor x 90s!damon
Pairing: 90s damon albarn x reader
Word count: 2.521
Warnings: smut (professor x adult student)
* * *
It had all begun last week. My english professor had asked me to stay behind after his class to discuss the ever-decreasing quality in my essays over the past few weeks. I had fallen into a rant about my personal life and family relations and everything that had been distracting me. I must’ve come off as extremely unstable (and desperate to not lose my high grade in his glass), and Damon must’ve nodded understandingly and hummed quietly about a hundred times. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened between us, but it was nearing winter so the sun had begun to set while we sat in his classroom that afternoon. It had felt inappropriate to see him in that lighting. He had looked so beautiful with the last rays of sunlight laid across his face. He’d always had a soft and deep voice but I had never before heard it speak so quietly and in such an empty room.
I had had several dreams about him ever since that long talk, some less appropriate than others. I was happy I had an excuse to look at him for hours on end, seeing as he was the professor. But I realised at the end of class that I had barely taken any notes, except all the mental ones I had made about Damon’s body and its language. How he caressed his jaw with his entire hand, how he licked his lips every other minute, how he toyed with the golden ring on his left index finger when he listened to a student answer a question, and how his eyes lit up when one of his favourite authors were brought up in discussions.
He couldn’t have been more than a couple years older than me. I knew he had just graduated from uni a year prior to taking this teaching position. He was maybe 26 or 27 years old, I speculated in my head as I was packing up my textbook and closing my untouched notebook. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts about this man’s age that he had to call on me twice before I heard him. I dropped my books on my desk and looked up through attentive eyes and a tensed jaw.
“Yes?”
“Can I have a little chat with you?”
I nodded, still frozen in my seat. The last few students exited the classroom and then we were alone again in the uncomfortable silence.
“What happened to trying harder to focus in class?” he asked in a kind voice from behind a soft smile. His head was tilted down and to the side and his eyebrows were raised. It was a playful remark. He had obviously noticed my vacant stares and how I had only ever picked up my pencil to gnaw at the end of it and then eventually put it back down.
“I don’t know,” I squeaked. It made me frustrated. I was never this modest in my dreams. But Damon was standing on the other side of my desk with his fingertips sitting on the edge of it, and I felt so small in my seat.
“Is it still your family?” he asked carefully but there was a bit of something else in his voice. I didn’t trust myself to read him correctly, as I was heavily influenced by the part of me that was already mentally undressing him. His white button up shirt with rolled up sleeves, the dark blue tie, the black trousers and the dark brown belt that hugged his hips snugly. All of it was on the floor in my head before I answered.
“Yeah..” I said quietly. It almost came out as a question. I was confused with the whole situation and didn’t know if the sexual tension was just in my head.
“Are you sure?” Damon asked tilting his head back to expose his jaw for a second or two before he turned around and headed back to his desk, letting his fingertips linger for a moment on my desk before they slipped off and left with the rest of him.
“Sir..” I began while not knowing where I was going with my sentence. Neither did I have any idea why I had just called him ‘sir’. No one called the professors ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ at my university. Damon and I were both equally as shocked at my utterance. He turned around with two raised brows and his hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned back to sit on the edge of his desk. He couldn’t help but smile in a sort of mischievous way. I almost trusted my intuition regarding his emotions now, but after my last line I was unsure if I was ever going to let myself speak to him again.
Damon looked down and broke into a small laugh. It almost looked like he was blushing.
“Sorry,” he chuckled under his breath, flustered. His voice cracked slightly but it was equally as deep as always.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked, leaning in over my desk. I suddenly felt brave. Damon shook his head and forcefully wiped his smile off his face.
“...Nothing,” he said. He tensed his jaw and his jaw muscles were very prominent for a moment before he untensed them again. My breath became shaky and artificially deep to keep myself from fainting. I was sure my cheeks were red now as I was back to undressing him in my mind. I enjoyed the part where I imagined him slowly unbuttoning his shirt the best. I had played that scene in various different settings and scenarios many times in my head.
“Are you sure?” I repeated his own question from earlier.
A long moment of eye contact ensued. To my surprise I wasn’t the first one to look away. Damon tilted his head up again and studied the ceiling for a second, and then looked down again.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked the question back at me. It was getting a bit juvenile and ridiculous at this point, but I was still too scared to say it out loud.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t tell me specifically, or can’t tell anyone?”
“You specifically.”
Everything was about as quiet as a classroom could be between our short lines. I was still leaning forward over my desk and my arms were crossed under my chest. I caught him stealing one short glance of said chest.
“Why?”
He was trying to stay professional. I was trying to stay out of the sexual gutter in my head that was toxifying our conversation and clouding my judgement.
“It’s about you.”
“Figured,” he chuckled and nodded at my, rather obvious at this point, confession. He looked down at his shoes and moved his feet awkwardly as he pondered.
“What’s the best that could happen if you tell me?” Damon asked as he turned his head up again to look at me.
I was caught off guard by his unusual question. I felt frozen in my seat but on the verge of sweating at the same time as another scene played out in my head. Damon’s hands on my wrists pinning me to the top of his desk and his hips crashing into mine at a slow controlled pace and his dirty words spilling out from his mouth to cover my body. Best case scenario.
I realised I was the one smiling mischievously now. I stopped immediately but he had already seen and studied my grin in detail. He gave one in return and narrowed his eyes.
“Go on,” he egged me on to answer his question. There was not much professionalism left in him now.
“Best case scenario…” I began and I finally moved. I sank  down in my seat a bit and nervously played with my pencil.
“We, um..”
We fuck on your desk, sir.
“We?” Damon asked. I had lost all my previous bravery and couldn’t look him in the eyes any longer.
“We...  well, you-”
“What, y/n?”
He was getting impatient now. The last thing I wanted was for him to give up on me and let the whole thing go. So, I said it.
“We-we sleep together. Like, sex. On top of your desk maybe.”
Every single muscle in my body was tensed and my gaze turned as far away from Damon’s as possible. But I heard him laugh quietly, which made me want to look up. His smile was one of the prettiest smiles I had ever seen.
“Come here then.”
Now I looked up. I didn’t just look up. I snapped my head up and straightened my posture all in one nervous swift movement.
“Sorry?” I asked.
“I figured that was the case, what with all the staring. None of the other students look at me like you do.”
He was in complete control of the situation now and wasn’t blushing like before.
“No one calls me sir either,” he joked and walked up closer to me. My lips were dry and I had to lick them several times before I could speak.
“Did you like it?” I asked quietly, shying away from his eye contact once again.
“I think you could tell I liked it.”
I mustered up all the strength I had in me to stand up. He was closer than I had imagined and his breath was tickling my face now. I licked my lips a few more times. His hand caressed my cheek and then he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. I was suddenly aware of the fact I couldn’t recall us ever having touched before. Then we did, a lot. His lips touched mine, his right hand touched the side of my neck, his chest almost touched mine, his left fingertips touched my waist, and my fingers nervously touched the sides of his torso.
He was warm and his hands felt like how his voice sounded. They slid down my side and held my waist as he backed me up towards his desk. The rational part of my brain had never thought this would ever happen, but I was indeed sitting on the edge of his desk with Damon’s hips between my legs.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you again,” he ordered.
“I want you to fuck me, sir.”
He grinned into our kiss as I called him by his new favourite nickname. I almost lost my ability to speak when he unzipped my jeans and then stuck his hand inside.
“How many times have you touched yourself thinking about me?” Damon asked in a pleased growl as he felt the outside of my wet underwear. I whimpered and grabbed a hold of his surprisingly strong biceps. He was skinny but clearly muscular under his white button-up. He began to help me wriggle out of my jeans.
“Too many times,” I admitted with a pair of blushing cheeks. Damon left a whisper in my ear and then backed a step or two away from me.
“Show me how.”
It made me nervous to look at him as he was unbuttoning his shirt, exactly like how I had imagined, as he stood and watched me rub circles around my clit. I eventually couldn’t hold myself up any longer. My back was resting on his desk and I wasn’t left alone for much longer. When I opened my eyes Damon’s face and bare shoulders was the only thing I saw. He had never looked prettier or hotter. His small stubbly hairs, the gorgeous colour in his eyes, his adorable nose and the sharp breaths that escaped it to fall on my face.
He pulled my hand out of my underwear and before he pinned it to his desk he stuck my middle and ring finger into his mouth. He sucked them clean and smiled devilishly.
“You taste lovely,” he purred and I choked on my own breath. I could’ve never imagined just how giddy it would actually make me feel to hear him talk like this.
Damon moved my pants to the side and pushed two of his fingers inside me. I could feel the cold metal of his ring in contrast to my warmth and stickiness.
“Fuck… Sir, please,” I whimpered. I wanted to see everything he was doing but it was hard to keep from screwing my eyes shut every time he curled his long fingers inside me.
“What do you want, darling?”
“Your cock. Inside me. Now. Please.”
My breaths were sharp and every single one was cut short by the next one.
“Oh, you sound so sexy when you beg.”
His voice only seemed to grow deeper and more gravelly with every moment that passed. And just like that I couldn’t think of anything other than the sensation of his cock pushing into me. He felt massive, and I realised he was indeed massive when I crunched up to look down on our bodies. He was only just halfway inside me, but with every thrust he went deeper and deeper and all I could do was moan and whimper and squirm under him.
Damon’s eyes met mine and he smirked before he clasped his hand around my throat and forced me down to lay on my back again. He accidentally smashed the back of my head quite violently against the wooden surface.
“Oh God, sorry,” he gushed under his breath and I laughed lightly. Damon leaned forward to leave a few gentle kisses on the side of my neck.
“It’s okay,” I chuckled, my heart growing soft for his affectionate side. The softness didn’t last long though, as he was soon growling and breathing heavily again.
“You feel so fucking good,” he sighed into my neck.
Damon’s hand slid up inside my top and then yanked my bra down to expose my breasts to his mouth. He began kissing harshly around my nipples and then sucked at my right one.
I clawed my nails into his sturdy back as I felt all my insides tense up and tingle with excitement.
“Damon, sir, I’m so close,” I squirmed in a small voice. I felt him smile and hum against the skin on my chest, sending amazing little vibrations throughout my body that affected me more than I could’ve ever imagined. Finally I was brought over the edge and Damon pressed his lips against mine again. I moaned into his mouth and he kept kissing me sloppily as I came down from my high and Damon’s was just around the corner.
“Fuck,” he mumbled into the kiss and then pulled away from me. He pulled out and pressed his throbbing head against my lower stomach and I watched him in awe as he spilled out over my stomach.
Damon breathed heavily and I sat up to pick his head up. I pulled my fingers through his short dirty blonde fringe and we melted into a kiss again as my hand fell to rest on the back of his neck.
“We’re definitely gonna have to do this again,” Damon sighed with a smile.
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