#anyways I’m enjoying this one so much and incredibly appreciative of how respectfully and even dare I say us-critically Greg Cox is writing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marvelouspeterparker · 4 years ago

Text

professor’s sweetheart

pairing: professor!tom holland x student!reader

summary: professor holland teaches british literature at your university. you hadn’t expected much when you signed up for the course, but the experience is everything and more than you could have hoped for.

word count: 15.1k

warnings: there is smut in here but it’s not the main focus (wild, i know)

notes: uh yeah i’d say just don’t fuck your professor? this is purely fictional. be safe, you know how it is <3

also she wrote a professor!harry styles fic, but if i hadn’t read that (over and over) i probably wouldn’t have been inspired to write this. so check out @songbirdstyles !

i listened to this playlist while writing it if ur interested :)

give me feedback please!!

“What class do you have next?” Your friend, and roommate Liz asked. You were both walking out of the cafeteria. It was 1:15, you had just finished lunch and you had fifteen minutes until your next class. You pushed the doors open together and braced yourselves as the cool late September breeze hit you, blowing your jackets open. You put both sides of the jacket together in front of you and crossed your arms to block the cold out.

“Um,” you thought back for a moment, the cold temporarily knocking your senses right out of you. “British Literature.”

If you were being honest, you had taken this course because it fulfilled one of your requirements, but in the end it felt like one of the most rewarding parts of your college experience so far. The material was interesting, and instead of being bored out of your mind throughout the whole hour and a half of class––it was actually entertaining. You had your professor to thank for that.

“Oooh,” Liz twisted her lips to the side to suppress a knowing smile, but the look in her eyes gave it away. “With Professor Holland?” She asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.

You rolled your eyes and bit your tongue to hide your smile. “Yes,” you shoved her playfully to the side making her step in a pile of leaves, the crunch under boots loud as ever as it carried through the crisp air. “Shut up.”

You and Liz had been roommates since your first year at university and had now spent four, coming up on five semesters rooming together. Luckily, you really hit it off, and easily fell into a routine together, forming a bond as you ate lunch and dinner together, studied in the library, had dance parties in your dorm, and more. You knew each other inside and out, often having random late night conversations while you procrastinated your work or couldn’t sleep, about literally anything and everything. Bottom line is, you trusted each other, which is why she knew about your sort-of-crush on Professor Holland.

To be fair everyone had a thing for him, he was just that kind of guy. He was sweet and compassionate and funny. Professor Holland was one of those genuine professors who sincerely cared about their students and their well-beings. He was incredibly understanding. He’d schedule dozens of meetings with his students all in one day just because he wanted to help and make sure they were all alright. He liked to check in every now and then, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

From what you could tell he also seemed like a people person. No matter who he was with, whether it was a student, his teaching assistant Jacob, or his fellow professors––he was always attentive, cracking jokes, enjoying the conversation. Everyone seemed to love him. But you could also tell that a part of him was just a tad bit cocky, but in a joking and love-able way.

All this goes to show that you spent way too much time thinking about him, and observing him, which could either be seen as really endearing or really creepy.

“Look I’m just saying,” Liz shrugged, “Enjoy the class.” She nudged you, “I know I would.”

Realizing you were approaching the writing and arts center, and Liz’s next class was in the building across the street, you sent her off. “Yeah yeah, okay. Bye.” You tightened your arms around you and scurried off, skipping a crack in the sidewalk and walking up the steps to the building. You opened the door and were immediately welcomed by a rush of warm air and let out a sigh, rubbing your hands together as you made your way to the lecture hall.

You pulled your phone out and checked the time, 1:22. You still had 8 minutes to spare. You were still walking and only glanced up from your phone right as you were about to walk into the door and were stopped suddenly when you crashed into a hard chest. You immediately felt two warm hands grasp your arms to steady you and were suddenly enveloped by the smell of tea and mint.

“Woah! I’m sorry, love, are you alright?”

You froze as you looked up, feeling very much like a deer in headlights as you realized you quite literally crashed into your professor. “Oh––um,” you swallowed, suddenly feeling like the air was escaping you. You cleared your throat trying to save yourself from anymore embarrassment. “I’m fine––I’m sorry, that was my fault. I wasn’t looking––” You paused when you noticed the small smile on his face, his warm eyes making you forget what you were going to say.

“It’s alright, Y/N. It was partially my fault as well, I was too focused on––” he seemed to snap out of some trance, straightening himself up as his hands dropped back down to his sides and into his pockets. “Uh, well that’s not important.” He pulled one hand out of his pocket––he was wearing those blue slacks that you thought made his thighs look great, respectfully, of course. He checked the time on his watch and you had to stop yourself from ogling the veins in his arms as he did so.

He looked up at you, brows furrowed playfully and you actually had to remind yourself to breathe. “You’re almost ten minutes early. You that eager to see me?” He ended his question with a teasing smirk and your mouth opened and closed a few times before you managed to string together a response.

“I––um, I just really like this class and you––you’re my favorite professor.” You blurted out, your cheeks heating up as you realized what you just admitted. You had to force your eyes to go back to their normal size after they practically bulged at the realization of what you said. “And I mean, I just happened to get here early so...I thought I might as well get settled in.”

Your professor cleared his throat, trying to hide his smile as he glanced down at his shoes for a moment then back up at you. “Well then.” He extended his arm, pointing towards the open door of the hall and stepped aside. “Please, after you.”

You gave him a small smile in return along with a quiet thank you and stepped through the door. But before you could walk over to your seat, you felt him lean over behind you to talk lowly in your ear. He was standing a respectably close distance, but his presence was so overwhelming it was as though you felt him everywhere. His breath caressed the smooth skin of your cheek as he spoke.

“I’m technically not allowed to have favorites, but I do appreciate that you enjoy having me as your professor, darling.” It shouldn’t have had such an effect on you, really, it shouldn’t have. But something about him referring to himself by his title really did something to you. You took a sharp inhale as you stood up straight, your whole body on high alert as you turned your head towards him, your eyes refusing to look at his and instead finding solace in the fabric of his navy blue button up––which he’d rolled up to his forearms.

“And if it means anything, I rather do enjoy having you in my class as well.” You snuck a peek at him, lifting your gaze slowly and only caught a glimpse of his soft lips as he smiled before walking over to his desk.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest as you walked up the steps to your usual spot in the middle row, near the aisle. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, and the man hadn’t even touched you––well not in the way you wanted him to, anyway. But enough of that.

You checked your phone again, trying to calm down your heartbeat as you took in a deep breath, 1:28. People started shuffling into the class, the overlapping sounds of chatter and laughter rupturing the energy the room had when it was just the two of you. At 1:32 Professor Holland started the class, getting everyone’s attention smoother than anyone should be able to. You could almost feel everyone’s eyes focusing on him, some weren’t even listening to him, they were just so entranced by how good he looked and the way he sounded––his accent was just so endearing, you had to admit it.

The hour and a half went by rather quickly but today you were more aware of yourself, of Professor Holland––even more than usual. It seemed as though his eyes would travel to your direction more often, after he made jokes as if to see your reaction, or while he paused in his speeches.

At the end of the class, despite there being dozens of other students moving around you, you felt as though your professor was watching you as you made your way out of the room. But it had to be your imagination, there was just no way.

When you got back to your dorm, Liz still wasn’t back yet so you decided to take a shower and spend some time relaxing. You had already done your work for the next day and your other work for the rest of the week––well, you decided you’d do it later.

You changed into sweats after your shower and hopped on your bed, deciding to switch between your apps for an hour or so––honestly you’d lost track of time. Liz strolled in soon after, closing the door with a loud groan, throwing her bag on the floor.

You smiled, looking up at her from your lying position on the bed. “Hello to you too.”

She grumbled in response, finally looking at you. When she noticed you were already wearing your pajamas she pointed to you, her brows raised. “Good idea!” She immediately went to her drawers and picked out a random pair of sweats and an oversized sweatshirt, changing with lightning speed for someone who was sluggishly groaning not even a minute before.

She grabbed her phone and sat on her bed opposite yours, cross-legged, facing you. She looked at your face for a few seconds before squinting her eyes at you. “You have something to say. Spill.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile on your face.

She looked at you pointedly, “Well go on.”

So you told her about your encounter with the infamous brit today, how you bumped into him, what he said to you, the glances he sent your way. When you finished recounting everything you took a deep breath, “But––this could all just be in my head you know, just me overreacting.”

She stared at you with a dead expression. “Are you fucking dumb?”

“Hey!”

She ignored you, rolling her eyes while she tried not to laugh. “Dude he totally wants to fuck you.” She said nonchalantly.

Your eyes bulged, “W–What do you––What?”

“Oh please, it’s so obvious.”

You opened your mouth but when nothing came out, you paused and looked down at the carpet. After a few moments you looked back up at her to find her with a knowing smirk on her face. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I am, when am I not?” When you were about to speak, she interrupted you. “Don’t answer that. But look, it seems like he’s into you. I think you should hit that.”

“But we––that’s not allowed!” You paused, “Is it?”

She laughed, “A ha! So you do want to!”

“Oh shut up, you already knew that. Everyone wants to, it’s not a big deal.”

She made a face, “Yes, but you’re the only one who actually has a chance at getting it.”

You looked at her, a skeptical look on your face. “Even if that was true––he’s still my professor…”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah but it’s not like it’s in the handbook or anything. Plus, you’re both legal adults, so. There you have it. You’re free to bone.”

“You did not just say that.”

“But I did.” She smiled, lying down in her bed. “You really could, though. Just don’t tell anybody.” When you didn’t say anything else, she spoke up. “Okay I’m gonna take a nap now. You have a lot to think about.”

You ignored the last part and went back to your phone, “Yeah you do that.”

Throughout the rest of the afternoon and night you couldn’t stop thinking about this whole situation. This was bad...Or was it? It seemed all too complicated, that was for sure. You weren’t even sure he looked at you or thought of you that way.

You fell asleep playing all the pros and cons of hypothetically getting with him, your mind an endless loop of your professor, his voice, how he sounded when he practically whispered that he liked being your teacher. This was all too much.

❊❊❊❊

All of your senses were in overdrive. All you could feel were the hands tracing every curve of your body, playing you like a toy they’d made themselves. The tongue, teeth and lips following and leaving marks everywhere the hands traced. All you could hear was that sweet, rough voice telling you praises and calling you endearing names as your whole body shivered from the pleasure. Your eyes locked in on the ones staring up at you with pure hunger and awe as you ground yourself down on his cock.

“That’s it darling, just like that. You’re doing so good for me.” His lips curved into that oh so familiar smirk. “I taught you well, didn’t I?”

You woke up sweaty, your shirt sticking to your torso, a wet patch on your panties, your nipples pebbled in the cool air of your dorm room. A sex dream. Of course you had a fucking sex dream about him. Fuck. You were just lucky that your next class with him was on Thursday so you didn’t have to see him today. Because that would not help you at all.

You checked the time on your phone, squinting at the brightness before turning it all the way down, 10am. You got out of bed with a groan and took your toiletries bag and your towel to the bathroom, deciding to take a shower this morning, instead of later on at night. Lord knows you certainly needed one. A cold one too.

You were frustrated, frustrated with yourself for feeling this way about your professor––sure, he was only a few years older than you, but it was the principle of the matter––frustrated that you were overthinking this entire thing, and most importantly you were annoyed because you were extremely horny.

When you got into the bathroom, you locked the door and set your stuff down. You put your hands on both sides of the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror. Who are we and what happened? You sighed and grabbed your toothbrush, brushing your teeth quickly and aggressively, since everything seemed to be a hassle this morning. You’d hoped that once you hopped in the shower, you’d calm down.

When you made your way inside, you sighed contently at the feeling of the warm water pattering against your skin, freshening you up immediately. Your nipples were still hard, between your legs still wet. So you brought a hand down between your thighs, the other to your breast as you stood under the water––almost as though the water was washing away the sinful act and thoughts right at the source. You laughed at the thought, nope, nothing can wash this away.

You squeezed your breast and tugged at your nipple, rubbing your sensitive bud just the way you liked. You were still sensitive from...your dream, so it didn’t take long for everything to build up. You couldn’t help yourself, your mind brought back the remnants of last night that you remembered, the way his hands gripped you when he steadied you, the way his arms looked, and you came with a whimper that was louder than you would have liked. You bit your lip, closing your eyes and resting your head back on the tiles as the water continued to fall on you.

When you came back to your dorm, Liz was on her way out but she stopped, raising her brows at you, “So have you come to a conclusion?”

You walked past her into the dorm, “Go to class, Liz.” You heard her cackle down the hallway as you closed the door.

You got dressed casually, not rushing since there was nowhere for you to go and decided to go to the local cafe near the school. You needed to clear your head and get some work done, and you definitely would not get any of it done in your dorm. Not today, anyway.

You checked the weather and seeing that it was a little warmer today, you put a sweatshirt on, grabbed your bag along with your phone and your laptop and you were on your way. The breeze felt refreshing this morning as you stepped out of your dorm. Your walk to the cafe was only ten or so minutes but it felt good.

Stepping into the little shop, you were immediately hit by the aroma of coffee and sweets, surrounded by the sound of light chatter and utensils clattering on the wooden tables. The warm light above you brought a sense of comfort as you made your way over to the counter. The line was rather short so you managed to order your usual drink and snack quickly. As you were waiting for the cashier to hand you your things, your eyes scanned the shop––the ambience was rather nice and the talking almost felt like background noises. You wouldn’t mind staying here to work.

As you gathered your things, you turned around in search of a free table––which would be the deciding factor in whether or not you would stay, you did not want to awkwardly share the small table space with some stranger. You took a few steps into the seating area and almost choked on your breath when you made eye contact with the last person you wanted to see today.

He smiled charmingly at you, teeth and all and quickly made his way over before you even had a chance to think of escaping. “Y/N!” He stood in front of you, his eyes bright. He was actually happy to see you? He was always happy to see everyone, it didn’t mean anything.

His voice snapped you out of your annoyingly loud thoughts. “Fancy seeing you here.” He nudged you playfully, “How are you?” He was wearing a very tight white button up that was unbuttoned until the third, showing a generous amount of his chest, a grey suit and pants, along with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. It took you a few more seconds than it should have to process that there were actual words coming out of his mouth.

You forced a smile onto your face but the more you looked into his eyes, the more genuine it became, almost impossible to wipe off. “I’m good. Was just grabbing breakfast before I start my work. You?”

He raised his cup, “Same as you. Have a bit of time before my next class.”

You noticed that you couldn’t tell what exactly was in the cup and your curiosity got the better of you. You pointed to the cup clasped in his fingers, “Is that coffee?”

He furrowed his brows in mock offense, “I only drink tea, darling.” He leaned his upper body forward to whisper to you, his cheek almost touching yours, “I’d think you would know that about your favorite professor.” He tutted playfully as he stood up straight again, watching you, a look that you couldn’t quite pinpoint in his eyes as he watched you over his cup, taking a teasingly long sip.

You looked up at him, your mouth slightly open, not a clue what to respond. When he pulled the cup away from his mouth he looked down at you, his gaze drifting down and you’d never felt more exposed, despite the fact that you were wearing two layers of clothing. “I like your sweatshirt.” He smiled, glancing down at it before looking directly into your eyes, his head lowered slightly.

Your eyes widened in surprise and your head snapped down to see your spiderman sweatshirt looking back at you boldly. Oh––Oh. You lifted your head back up to find him still smiling at you softly, he didn’t seem to be teasing you at all. “Um thanks.” You could feel your cheeks heating up, despite the cool air that swept your legs as someone opened the door to the cafe. “Are you uh–– a marvel fan?”

He pursed his lips playfully, “Yeah,” his hand came up to rub the back of his neck, “Yeah you could say that.” He licked his lips and took another sip of his drink.

Your eyes, with a mind of their own, trailed down the column of his throat, following the vein on the side of his neck, the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed the warm liquid. The action almost seemed provocative, in both meanings of the term.

Suddenly you felt very hot and you knew that you had to get out of there before you made a fool of yourself in front of everyone, but most importantly him. You perked up, “I uh––I have to go professor, but it was nice talking with you. See you tomorrow!” With that you quite literally ran off, wincing as you turned around, having noticed the way his lips parted as if to speak, a furrow between his brows appearing out of confusion and concern. You really had to get control of yourself.

You practically berated yourself as you speed walked away. God, that was so stupid. And not to mention, incredibly rude! He’d probably be upset with you now, or maybe even mad. It’s just––unbelievable what he did to you, without even actually doing anything. It took you the entire walk there to realize that you unconsciously made your way back to your dorm––so much for the library. But you’d had enough social interaction for today, so you decided you’d stay there.

You got in your bed and buried yourself under the covers, deciding you needed the comfort of being hidden in your mattress after the embarrassment you’d just experienced. You lied there just staring at the plain, white ceiling for way too long until you let out a loud huff and sat up, before grabbing your computer to start your work.

Deciding to check your college email before you started, since they were incessant and it was easy to miss something, you scanned down the list of messages in your inbox. Your eyes skimmed through the boxes on the left of your screen, notifications that your professors left feedback on your assignments, the weekly newsletter, club events, a message from Holland, Tom––

You shut your computer immediately, eyes bulging as you held your breath. You swallowed thickly, as you stared into nothing in front of you, your eyes barely taking in anything, your mind a big ball of fuzz.

After taking a few deep breaths, and telling your overdramatic brain to calm down, you opened the laptop again. Biting your lip, you hovered your mouse over the message, reading over the small bits of information you could see in the preview.

Holland, Tom

Just checking in

Hi Y/N, I just wanted to make …

You could feel your heart beating through your chest. Oh God––Wanted to make sure what?? The sensible part of your brain said to just open it to figure it out for yourself. But the irrational, idiotic part of your brain was yelling at you to not open it under any circumstance. What if he wanted to make sure you didn’t get the wrong idea? Did he know how you felt about him? Were you that obvious? Maybe he thinks you’re clinically insane and wants to make sure you’re getting the attention you need? You did run off like a crazy person, after all.

You shut your eyes tight and groaned loudly into your hands. Liz walked in and whistled lowly, taking in everything in front of her. You looked up, confused and looked at the time, realizing it had already been two hours since you first left the dorm, meaning she was done with her classes for the day.

“What’s up?” She took a seat at her desk, propping her legs on the table as she leaned back.

You waved her off, deciding it would be best to let this blow over and ignore it for now. You’d go back when you were in the right state of mind.

She started telling you about her day and annoyingly, your brain decided today would be the day that it would not shut off. Your brows were furrowed as you tried your best to focus on what your friend was saying, but she wasn’t even looking in your direction, staring up into the air above her as she spoke animated, hands waving around, so she didn’t even notice you struggling to pay attention.

Your eyes kept flitting back to the screen of your computer, your fingers swiping across the trackpad to turn it back on when the screen’s brightness lowered every now and then.

Liz looked back at you and stopped her spiel. “Alright what’s up with you?”

You sighed deeply and looked up at her. “Sorry, sorry. I just––I saw Professor Holland today––”

“Already?” She interrupted you, a goofy smile on her face. “Damn, you work fast.”

You threw the nearest pillow at her, “Shut up! I didn’t fuck him.”

“You should’ve.” She pointed out, holding the pillow to her chest.

You glared at her until she raised her hands in surrender, then continued, your eyes bouncing from object to object in the room as you babbled.

“I went to the cafe and I saw him and he came over to me and we started talking––and he whispered in my ear and he was joking around with me and he sipped his tea and he was super close to me and super hot, and I couldn’t handle it so I basically ran off without giving him a chance to say bye.” You took a deep breath, “And then he sent me an email after I saw him and I still haven’t opened it because I’m scared and I don’t know what he said…” You took another breath and looked at your friend, blinking as she just stared at you.

After a moment, she spoke up. “Dude just open the email.”

Your eyes widened almost in offense. “Did you not listen to anything I just said?”

“Yeah you practically fucked in the cafe then you got scared and ran away.” She spoke nonchalantly and you could tell she was fighting off a smile. “Look, eventually you have to open the email anyway, you can’t just ignore it. So just do it and rip the bandaid off.” You were about to speak up when she interrupted you, “I promise it won’t be half as bad as you think. We both know your mind is absolutely filled with the craziest ideas.”

You huffed and fell back down on the bed, not bothering to argue since you both knew she was right.

“Shit, I’m starving.” She looked at the time, “Yeah it’s about time for me to eat food.” She stood up, “Come on, let’s go.”

“Can you please get something for me?” She knew you well enough that you didn’t have to tell her what to get. You gave her your best smile and shrugged your shoulders.

“Are you serious.” She looked at you, deadpan, standing like the little emoji of the woman standing in place with her arms at her sides.

You had to suppress your smile, “What if I see him?” You asked incredulously, lying further in the covers. “I’d rather stay in here and hide, for now.”

“You have class with him tomorrow––”

“That’s why I said for now.”

She cracked a smile, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her things, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Love you!”

“Yeah yeah,” she waved her hand and walked out the door.

A few moments passed after Liz left and you sat up yet again, putting your computer on your lap as you swiped the trackpad, making the screen light up again. You checked the time, it had been almost an hour since he sent the email, you really shouldn’t make him wait any longer. Not that he’s waiting at all, he probably didn’t even notice that you hadn’t responded.

You inhaled and exhaled slowly, swallowed your nerves and clicked on the email.

Holland, Tom

Just checking in

Hi Y/N,

I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. You seemed kind of stressed when you left earlier and I’m hoping it wasn’t because of anything I did. Can we check in tomorrow in my office? Hope everything is going well.

Warmest Regards,

Professor Holland

He wanted to meet tomorrow after class. In his office. Alone.

Oh, fuck. You could hear Liz in your head going Yes, fuck. But you quickly shoved her aside.

You read over the email about five times to make sure you weren’t misinterpreting anything, because that would be even more embarrassing. You clicked the reply button and slowly wrote out your response.

Hi Professor Holland,

Everything is fine, but thank you for asking, I appreciate the concern. I’m free tomorrow after class if you’re available then.

Thank you!

Y/N

You hit send and not even two minutes later, you received a response.

Hi Y/N,

Perfect! I’ll see you then :)

Warmly,

Professor Holland

How on earth were you supposed to focus on your work now? More importantly, how were you going to focus in class tomorrow?

❊❊❊❊

The next day, the butterflies in your stomach would not calm down. When you stepped into the class, he was talking to another student and you tried to sneak past to your seat unnoticed. You thought you’d succeeded but once you sat down and looked up, you made direct eye contact with him and you swear you stopped breathing. You barely even recognized the sound of everyone moving around you, getting ready for class to start.

He parted his lips and reluctantly turned back to the student still talking to him, snapping out of his daze, but not after glancing back at you. You swallowed and sank down in your seat. This was going to be a long class.

At 1:35, class started. Professor Holland stood up and clasped his hands, making his way to the middle of the floor in front of everybody, his voice reverberating through the room.

“Good afternoon everybody. Hope you’re all doing well.” His eyes found yours and you bit your lip nervously. You could see him swallow as he watched you, before moving his gaze elsewhere. Was that because of you? Surely, it had to be a coincidence. Maybe you made him uncomfortable. Oh great––

He went on, seemingly unfazed, eyes darting back to you subtly before continuing. The discussion soon turned to the book you’d just been assigned to read. The book was rather lengthy but there were always so many things to talk about within only a few pages––which you loved, so it was taking you all a while to go through everything together in class.

The conversations often took up a lot of the class time since Professor Holland simply loved talking and he always found everyone’s interpretations interesting and worth exploring––eager to hear our classmates perspectives. He also often said that he was not good at using technology, so he preferred to just talk and show rather than use his computer. Honestly, you found it endearing.

The conversations were always interesting to listen to, people never failed to give you insight on things you hadn’t even thought of before, but sometimes––some people were just a little stupid.

Someone brought up a slightly sexist point that made absolutely no sense but since you weren’t the one to call someone out in front of a room full of people, you stuck to your facial reactions instead of audibly responding. You turned back to the front of the class to see Professor Holland’s opinion to find that he was watching you, trying and failing to suppress his smile.

He put both hands in his pockets which you found ironic considering they would jump out any time soon––he loved to talk with his hands. His eyes got serious, the smile on his face a little less friendly as he addressed the sophomore who made the comment. “I don’t know if you’re aware of how ludicrously sexist that comment you just made was, but now you know.” He turned to the rest of the class. “Remember to think before you speak. This isn’t to necessarily call anyone out. It’s a warning. Senseless remarks will not only affect my view of you, but your grades as well.”

He went on and tried to shape the boy’s comment into something appropriate to discuss and you honestly couldn’t focus on anything else he said, you were just looking at him in awe and in shock. Sure, this was the bare minimum, but since it was so rare to see, it was very noticeable and even impressive when you noticed it.

God, you adored this man.

Near the end of class, he announced the next assignment, a paper you’d have to write about a comparison you made between any point in the story, a character, a theme, a hidden meaning, etc. and something in our modern reality, a social norm, a popular belief, etc. Your essays were always very open ended in this class, giving you room to write about almost anything you wanted to. Your professor knew that the assignments would be more enjoyable if there was some choice involved. He truly was good at his job.

“Look, reading’s hard sometimes, I get it. I’m dyslexic, so trust me, I understand. But I never let that stop me.” He paused to look around the room and it was so silent you could hear each other’s inhales and exhales. The power he had over a room full of around one hundred people was insane, and in a weird way, also turned you on. “I know the book is massive. Listen to the audio books if you have to, I don’t mind. But get the work done either way. It’s not for me, it’s for you. I want you to get the best grade you can in this class.”

“Bring me interesting material. I don’t want to fall asleep reading your work.” He joked and smiled proudly when laughter filled the room. “The essay is due in two weeks. Good luck.”

There were a few thank you’s and goodbyes scattered around the room as he sent everyone off, people scurrying from all sides to the exits.

You took your time gathering all your things and took a deep breath when the last few people made their way out, silence soon surrounding the both of you. You put your bag over your shoulder and walked down the carpeted steps, suddenly finding the dark grey pattern to be the most interesting things you’ve ever seen––and also watching your steps so that you don’t fall down them in front of him. You could barely hear the soft patter of your shoes as you walked down. When you finally got the main floor you looked up and saw him waiting for you patiently, things in his hands, a smile on his face.

“Let’s go then, shall we?” You nodded shyly and he led the way, his office only a hallway away from the lecture hall. You found it slightly odd that he didn’t try to make conversation on your way there, since he always loved to. But you tried not to think too hard about it. Maybe he was just tired.

When you reached his office, he opened the door and let you walk in first. Your eyes immediately scanned the room out of curiosity as you stepped inside, noticing his desk, the wood a dark mahogany which was covered with stacks of papers, picture frames, pens, and a few marvel funko pops––so he really was a fan. You’d never actually been inside of his office before. It was an intimidating thought for you to be in his office with him, alone. You just didn’t want to embarrass yourself.

You turned to him and gestured to the chair across from his desk, “Do I just––”

“Please,” he interrupted eagerly. “Make yourself comfortable.”

You took a seat and he set his things down next to his desk before sitting as well. His hair was coiffed to perfection today, curls sculpted nicely, a dark blue suit on his body with a black shirt underneath. He took off the suit jacket and put it on the back of his chair and you could see his veins and muscles bulging and shifting in his arms as he moved. He clasped his hands in front of him on the desk and wow he had nice fingers. You really had to get a grip on yourself––

“How was class today for you? Well, besides that one disappointing comment.”

You smiled, “I always enjoy the class, but yeah that was uh, disappointing as you said.

“I think your interpretations are always very insightful and very interesting. It’s almost a shame that you don’t share them with the whole class but part of me likes it that we keep them between us.” Oh? “Plus, I know how scary it can be talking in front of all those people. I almost shit myself first time I taught that class––”

You let out a surprised laughter and he couldn’t help laugh as well.

“Shit, sorry! I mean––” He sighed, “Language, sorry. I’m British.” He shrugged, “Can’t help it.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay. Personally I think curse words spice up conversations.” You smiled proudly when he laughed at your joke.

His smile radiated a more nervous energy after his laughter died off. “When you ran off yesterday, that wasn’t––was that because of me? Because if I did something to make you uncomfortable I’m so sorry.”

You tilted your head, trying to think of a way to explain. “No it wasn’t, well––it kind of was?” You had no idea why you would tell him this, but apparently your mouth was moving without agreeing with your mind first.

There was almost a pout on his face and you had the sudden urge to reach over the table and smooth it out with your lips. “It’s just, well––You make me just a little bit nervous, to be honest professor.” You looked down at your lap and back up at him timidly.

He raised his brows, “Oh––”

Your smile was strained and you wanted nothing more than to be swallowed whole by the floor.

“Well that’s not a bad thing, is it?” He looked at you almost, hopefully?

You laughed, “No trust me, it’s not.” Your eyes widened at the realization of what you’d basically just admitted to him and you didn’t know if you should feel embarrassed or relieved when the smirk appeared on his face.

But the words that he uttered next cleared that up for you. “Well, if I’m honest, you make me nervous too, darling. And definitely not in a bad way.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, almost teasing you with how good he looked.

You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, crossing your legs, your thighs squeezing together, and he definitely noticed, his eyes trailing down your body as he licked his lips as well.

The tension in the room was so thick but you found that you didn’t want to escape it, if anything you wanted to carve your way through it, stay for as long as you could until it snapped.

Your professor spread his legs, his hands coming down to rub at his thighs as he watched you and the sound of your heartbeat pounding filled your ears. It was almost as if there was an unseen force pulling the two of you together, but before it could there was a knock at the door.

The both of your heads snapped to the door to find it opening slowly. Jacob, Tom’s teaching assistant popped his head in. You had talked to him a few times, he was always very nice. He didn’t attend every class, but you guessed that he would be attending the next one. “Hey man.” He turned to you and smiled, “Oh hi Y/N.” You waved and let out a small hi in response. He turned back to the professor. “Your next class is starting like––” He looked at his watch. “Now.”

“Shit, sorry man. Lost track of time.” He got up and you did too, smiling sheepishly as you grabbed your things, getting up from your seat. “I’ll be right there.” Jacob nodded and closed the door.

You both made your way over to the exit slowly, still reeling from what maybe could have happened and what you both obviously thought of. The silence was loud around you, but it wasn’t scary this time.

“Let me know if you need any help with the upcoming assignment, alright? Don’t be afraid to stop by if you need to.” His gaze dropped down to your lips for a split second before reaching your eyes again. “For anything.” He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t describe but quickly tried to mask it with a smile as he opened the door for you, his eyes practically holding yours captive.

“Thank you, professor. I will.”

You stepped out and he watched you for a few moments before closing the door. You looked back, smiling as you caught his eye and as soon as he stepped back in the office, you practically ran out of the building and to your dorm, a stupid grin on your face.

“Holy shit.”

❊❊❊❊

When you practically burst into your dorm room, scaring Liz half to death before you told her what happened, let’s just say she wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

“I fucking told you!” She flopped onto her bed, still staring at you pointedly as she did so, a smirk on her face. She pointed at you before dropping her hand down dramatically by her side. “You like, owe me a soda now or something.”

You rolled your eyes but you were so giddy the smile still hadn’t dropped from your face. “Well I do owe you for getting me lunch yesterday, so maybe I will buy you one.”

❊❊❊❊

Over the weekend, you started working on the essay for British Literature and you were already about halfway done since the topic you chose actually interested you. But you found yourself questioning if you were writing it properly as you went on. You weren’t sure if it was because you wanted it to be near perfect since you’d found out he paid extra attention to you, or maybe you just wanted to talk to him again––you’d never know.

After discussing with Liz, you decided you’d stop by his office on Monday afternoon once you were done with your classes. You knew he liked to stay in his office until late at night sometimes, he always said we could stop by whenever, if we needed something. So you decided to take advantage of that, shoving down your anxious thoughts and doing what you wanted.

Liz may or may not have convinced you to wear a shirt that was––aesthetically pleasing, to put it, specifically in the chest area so you were more than eager to see your professor’s reaction. You were a little nervous, you didn’t want it to seem like you were trying too hard, but you thought you looked good in this shirt, and you had a right to feel good about yourself. Since it was a little chilly outside, you hid it under a sweatshirt for now.

You got to his office and found yourself staring at the dark wood, hesitating to knock on. After taking a deep breath you rapped your knuckles against the door.

You heard a faint Come in! And you took a deep breath and opened the door slowly to find him sitting at his desk, “Hi Professor Holland.” He was finishing some notes on a student’s essay but his head snapped up immediately at the sound of your voice.

He dropped his pen and sat up, “Please,” he motioned to the seat across from his desk and you smiled gratefully before settling down. “What can I do for you? Everything alright?”

His eyes looked sincere and concerned and you could feel your insides melting a little bit.

“I just––I really want to do well on this essay,” He nodded for you to continue, “But I’m just not sure if I’m going in the right direction.”

He nodded understandingly, “Well let’s have a look, shall we?”

You reached down to grab your things when he stood up and walked past you, your eyes following him in confusion. He gestured to the couch, a somewhat impish smile on his face. “Just thought it would be more comfortable––and easier for us to look together, of course.”

You nodded, a small smile on your face as you picked up your bag and sat next to him on the couch. “Right, of course.” It was a loveseat so there wasn’t much room for either of you to distance yourselves.

You got out your computer and opened up the essay. You had already opened it before you got there, not wanting to have to awkwardly wait for it to load. Yes, you overthought things but––it helped sometimes. “I see you came prepared,” he joked and you couldn’t help but smile. He really did notice everything, didn’t he.

“Well I’m really confident about the topic of my essay, I think it’s interesting. But I feel like I may be adding too much into the paper, and I’m not sure if I’m overthinking things or if I should take some things out.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. I meant it when I said I appreciate having you in my class, you know. I always love reading your work. You write well.”

“Thank you, professor.” Though you saw his eyes darken at the title, he commented on it.

“You can call me Tom when we’re alone, darling. No need for formalities.”

“But I like calling you professor––” Your hand shot up to cover your mouth and you spoke before he could, ignoring his smile, “I mean um. Tom––Okay I can try that.”

His tongue passed under his teeth, a devilish smirk on his face as he watched you squirm under his gaze. “No you know, now I think professor is growing on me.”

You pursed your lips, rolling your eyes. “Prof––Tom.”

He raised his hands in surrender, “Alright alright.”

“Why don’t you read it to me? It’s easier to see where you can improve when you hear it out loud.”

You swallowed nervously, nodding your head as you brought your laptop closer to you. “O––Okay.”

You started reading your paper out loud, voice becoming slightly steadier as you went on, two fingers scrolling up the trackpad. He made comments as you read, only praise––and with each compliment you felt yourself getting hotter. Very good. Always write so well. Nice point there. Mhm. Good girl, that’s an excellent point. He shifted his way closer to you gradually as you read on and when his thigh touched yours, you had to tell yourself not to jump from the contact.

He placed his arm on the back of the couch, basically around your shoulder and you had to smush down the urge to throw your computer and climb into his lap. His thighs did look very inviting with the way he was sitting, though.

He moved closer to you and you could feel his breath cascading down over your shoulder as he brought his hand to the trackpad, his arm over your thigh, fingers scrolling through to where he had a few suggestions.

When he finished his few remarks, you could hear the proud smile in his voice. “See, I knew it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought. You’re a good writer...” He paused and you turned your head slightly to find his lips mere inches from yours, his eyes trained on your mouth. His words were barely a whisper when he spoke up again, “A good student.” You both leaned in slowly and his hand came up to hold your cheek lightly. “Bet you’d be a good girl for me too.”

You gasped lightly and leaned forward, giving in and finally pressing your lips to his, both your hands grabbing his jaw. He moaned immediately, his body pressing into yours as you twisted to face him, his other hand coming around your waist to pull you in. You felt your laptop slipping off your thighs and squeaked, making the both of you laugh and pull away, flustered.

“Careful, love.” Tom grabbed the computer and put it down on the floor gently, confirming that you saved your work before pushing the lid closed.

The air in the room was hot, thanks to Tom in general, but also thanks to what you just did. So you pulled away and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Tom’s pout when he thought you were getting up to leave. Since there wasn’t much space on the couch, you stood up to take your hoodie off and you heard his breath hitch when his eyes fell upon the shirt you were wearing. “Christ-”

“Now what’s this?” Tom said almost to himself, his eyes staring at you in wonder and awe. “Never seen this little number before.” He noticed the clothes you wore? His hands were already aching to feel you again, reaching out for you subconsciously and you bit your lip to calm your smile as you sat back down, letting your sweater fall to the floor softly.

“What, this old thing?” You joked, looking down at the shirt––yeah, you looked good. “You like it?” You looked up at him, a cheekily innocent look in your eyes.

He put his hands around your waist and pulled you into his lap, enjoying the gasp it elicited from you. You put your hands gingerly on his shoulders and the way he was looking up at you made you never want to leave this position ever again. You tilted your head and licked your lips and Tom couldn’t take it anymore, he kissed you again, hands gripping you firmly, anchoring you to him. He pulled away after a good while, wanting to look at you again, his lips parted, practically panting like an animal. You really had an effect on him, but he did the same to you.

His eyes were taking you in, basically capturing a mental image for later. “God, you look heavenly, darling.” You squirmed in his lap and bit your lip when you felt a bulge growing underneath you. He leaned forward and left a trail of kisses on the tops of your breasts, leaving a few teasing nips and sucks here and there. You squealed, your hands coming up to run your fingers through his hair. You pulled his head up by his hair and the look in his eyes looked absolutely feral––like he wanted to eat you.

You were about to lean in and kiss him again when a knock at the door surprised the both of you. You both jumped off of the couch as Tom threw out excuses. “Yeah just a second!” You straightened out your shirt as Tom did the same to his pants and you picked up your things.

When he saw that you were settled, he took a deep breath and answered the door. His colleague and best friend Professor Osterfield, was standing there, a grin on his face. “You div, are you ever going to be on time for our monthly meetings?––” He stood up straight when he noticed you standing behind Tom. “Oh, I didn’t know you had company.” He looked between the two of you and it seemed as though he pieced everything together. Maybe Tom had told him about you? If he did, you wouldn’t be worried Tom didn’t seem like the type to tell unreliable people his business––and they were best friends after all.

You smiled at him in acknowledgement as moved aside to let you pass. “Sorry,” you looked between the both of them, “I’ll let you get to whatever you have to go to.” You looked at Tom once you were out of his office, “Thank you for the feedback, professor.”

You could see him fighting off his smirk before he replied, “Of course.” His stare was impenetrable as he looked at you, “Feel free to come by whenever.” You could see the hidden meaning in his words and let the hint of a smile show, before nodding and walking off.

Harrison looked at him, a pitiful smile on his face. “I hope you know what you’re doing, mate. You should be careful, for the both of you.”

Tom sighed, not wanting to have this conversation. “I know, man. Let’s go.”

❊❊❊❊

You found yourself missing Tom as soon as you left. God, this was kind of pathetic. But at least your feelings weren’t necessarily one sided––he did say you made him nervous too after all. You doubt he’d say that if he just wanted to fuck you––he was better than most men. And sure you might be a little biased, but at the end of the day he had a good heart and he was educated. So bonus.

When you stepped into your dorm, your roommate was sitting on her bed, snacks in hand as she looked at you expectantly. “Now these,” she gestured to the food on her bed, “are either for a story time, to rebuild your energy or both.”

You laughed and changed into your pajamas, starting to tell your best friend about everything that just happened. She often interrupted with her reactions and comments.

Oh. My. God.

Shut. Up.

You’re fucking lying!

“But we didn’t fuck.”

“Boo––”

“Yes, boo.” You laughed, “Professor Osterfield knocked at the door and dragged him off to a meeting so.” You shrugged.

“Professor Osterfield...is that the hot blond one?” You nodded and she continued expressing her feelings for the man. “I’d let him teach me a few things––”

“Literally bye.”

She laughed, “What? Come on have you seen him––”

“I’m a little preoccupied with another professor to be honest.”

She nodded, handing you a bag of chips as you settled in your bed. “True. And oh how lucky you are.” You smiled in agreement.

❊❊❊❊

Today was the day the essay was due and though you normally handed it in at the beginning of class, for once, you didn’t and you could feel Tom’s gaze following you as you walked up the steps to your seat without so much as a glance in his direction. You’d stopped by his office a few times over the past two weeks since Harrison interrupted you, but you never did anything more than kissing and grinding. You were both too scared of getting caught, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t thought about doing more in there.

Tom liked to have physical copies of the essays, just in case technology decides it’s against him (his words), so everyone had until 8pm tonight to drop it off by his office. You were definitely going to use that to your advantage.

You didn’t wear anything provocative to class, you didn’t really want that kind of attention today, plus you knew that Tom’s interest in you wasn’t solely based on your appearance. So you put the revealing items on under your clothing. And honestly, the thought that no one knew what you were wearing underneath it all only excited you even further.

You crossed your legs, relieving your tension and biting your lip as class went on, enjoying how flustered Tom would be every time he looked at you. You felt so submissive when you were alone with him, but when you were in public like this? Free to tease him subtly from a distance? That’s where you had all the power.

You had him blushing and stuttering throughout the whole class, though it wouldn’t have been easy for everyone else to notice, for you it was so obvious. He kept rubbing his hands together, pacing around as his eyes darted to you every few minutes. At one point he went over to sit down at his desk, which he rarely did while teaching––and you were fairly certain it was to hide a bulge in his pants. All thanks to you.

In the middle of the class, you felt your phone vibrate in your bag and pulled it out just to see if it was an emergency. You were pleasantly surprised and could feel your whole body react when you noticed who the message was from.

Tom: Having fun, are you?

Your eyes shot up to the front of the room and you bit your lip to contain your smile when you noticed him glaring at you.

Y/N: I always have fun in this class, professor ;)

You put your phone away afterwards and focused on the class, knowing it was killing Tom that you weren’t giving him more attention. Your heart was racing and your panties had a wet patch by the time class was over. You had a feeling he was going to try to keep you after class, so you hurried up and gathered your things, sighing in relief when a few students went up to his desk to talk to him.

You smirked to yourself and headed straight for the door, your head high on your shoulders. But just as you were about two feet from the exit, Tom spoke up.

“I assume I’ll be seeing you later, Miss Y/L/N?”

You turned around, eyes slightly widening as you noticed him, the group of students near him.

He smirked slyly, “To turn in your paper, remember?” His eyes were giving you a knowing look.

You swallowed, nodding as you smiled at him innocently. “Of course, professor.” You enjoyed the way his eyes darkened only slightly, only noticeable to you. “See you then.” With that you walked out.

❊❊❊❊

You practically skipped to his office at around 7:45, before knocking at the door, four knocks in a specific pattern––the code you’d made together.

“Come in, darling!”

You walked in and quickly shut the door, a chuckle escaping you. “You know someone could hear you from the outside one day, right?”

He shrugged, “I’ll just blame it on my accent. Could call everyone darling, they don’t know any better.”

You laughed. “Okay well––Professor Holland,” you said, loving the way he looked at you when you uttered his title. “I brought this for you.” You took out the printed essay and placed it on his desk.

He pushed his chair out, his eyes following your every move as he spread his legs. “Oh is that right?”

You took the invitation and took your reserved seat in his lap, linking your arms around his neck as you looked down at him. “Mhm, still want a good grade in this class you know. You are my favorite professor after all.”

He smirked smugly, licking his lips. “And you,” he kissed your lips before pulling away briefly, “Are my favorite girl.” He brought his hands up your back and pulled you into him as he kissed you again. This time, longer and deeper, wanting to feel you as much as possible. “Teased me so much in class today.” You smiled into the kiss and he continued, “Almost wanted to take you over my knee right there in front of everyone.”

You moaned audibly and he brought his hand up to your neck, gripping you softly but firmly, giving you room to pull away if you didn’t approve. When you leaned further into his grip, he grinned and pulled you closer. You started grinding down on him, basking in the desperate groans and sighs you were coaxing out of him, the way his movements became more frantic as he bucked into you.

After debating with yourself in your head for a moment––struggling to think properly with his hands all over you, you got off of his lap and smiled at the small whines of protest he let out before reaching for his belt. You made eye contact with him and noticed how wide his eyes were, hopeful, hungry, but hesitant.

His hands reached for yours, “You don’t have to, darling. If anything I should be doing this first. God knows I’ve thought about it.”

You pouted, trying your best to ignore his words and focus on the task at hand. “But I want to,” you kissed his cheek, “I wanna make you feel good, professor.” He nodded, barely able to speak.

“Yeah? You wanna be a good girl for me?”

You nodded eagerly, licking your lips as he pulled himself out of his trousers. “More than anything. Wanna make up for earlier.” You got down on your knees, mouth practically salivating at the way his member stood tall against his abdomen, his tip leaking with precum.

Your hand wrapped around him just as a knock sounded at the door. Professor?

The both of your eyes widened, the both of you looking around for some sort of answer before he ushered you under the desk, tucking himself back in hastily, pulling his chair as much as he could and sitting at the edge, hiding his unbuttoned and unbuckled pants. Luckily for the both of you, the back of the desk reached the floor, so whoever it was wouldn’t be able to see you hiding underneath. “Uh––Come in!”

The person walked in and you recognized the sound of her voice, she often spoke up in the lectures. You couldn’t remember her name, though. You do, however, remember that she often spoke up only to get Tom’s attention. You’d heard her gush about him in the halls just outside his class in the hopes of him hearing her. You couldn’t blame her, but the thought still irked you. “I just wanted to give you my paper. I hope it’s not too late.”

Tom checked the time on his watch, 7:58. “Nope,” he laughed breathlessly, trying to compose himself, “Not too late at all, in fact just in time.”

She handed her paper to Tom and he gave her a tight-lipped smile, trying his best not to think about the fact that your hands were trailing up his thighs and that he could feel your warm breath hitting the exposed part of his member––he really hadn’t payed attention when he tucked himself back in.

Before he could send the girl who’s name you still hadn’t remembered off, she took a seat across from him and he swallowed nervously, a little frustrated since he was so close to getting his cock in his girl’s mouth.

It seemed that you somehow read his thoughts because as soon as the girl kept talking for another two minutes, you pulled his member out and stroked him, licking up his shaft and he tensed, taking every ounce of self control he had not to look down at you. His hand reached down and held your cheek gently, just wanting to feel you. You nuzzled into his palm and he had to bite his lip to suppress his smile, not wanting the student across from him to think his endearing expression was meant for her.

You honestly completely tuned out all the words she was saying, your sole focus pleasuring Tom. But you didn’t miss the flirty and falsely innocent tone in her voice. You couldn’t see her but she was no doubt batting her eyelashes at him as well.

When she made a comment about how good his shirt looked on him, you couldn’t help yourself, you sucked his tip into your mouth with no warning, making him groan unexpectedly. You paused, eyes wide and playful as your mouth stayed around him.

“Are you okay professor?”

He let out a strained smile, “Yes, Emma, Sorry––” So her name was Emma. “I just uh banged my knee on the desk.”

She hummed a small okay and went on.

He caught your eye, trying his best to keep his expression neutral, but boy was it hard. Especially when you were looking up at him like that, with his cock in your mouth. You licked around his tip and lowered your mouth around him and he had to force himself to focus on the girl who was still talking to him.

You were not playing fair but quite frankly you didn’t care. You were making him feel good and yourself too. Your hand was pumping him, your tongue swirling around him as quietly as you could, while your other hand found its place between your thighs.

In the middle of Emma’s speech, Tom’s eyes drifted down and widened, his breath getting caught in his throat when he noticed your other hand, moving between your legs. He stuttered out an excuse, unable to tear his eyes away from you for a moment, “Uh, Emma I’m so sorry––I just have so much work to do, but feel free to come back––” he paused to swallow when you sucked harder around him in reaction to his invitation. “Come back next week if you have any problems or anything else you’d like to discuss.”

She hesitantly but respectfully said goodbye and was on her way, closing the door behind her.

Tom’s hands immediately shot down to hold your head, his mouth dropped open as he watched you, approaching his high. “Shit, that’s it darling that’s it. So fucking good for me.”

“I’m gonna cum––” he warned. You simply hummed around him and sped up your movements, feeling yourself clench as he panted, his hips bucking slightly as he came into your mouth. You unfortunately weren’t able to cum but you were sure there’d be other chances. You popped off of him and swallowed his load before licking up his length teasingly slow. “Fuck, such a good girl.”

He pulled his chair out and brought you up to stand between his legs, tiling his head to look up at you, his hands rubbing up and down the backs of your thighs absentmindedly. “Was someone a little jealous?”

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but failing to fix your annoyed facial expression. “Maybe.”

He tucked himself back into his pants and stood up, chuckling as he squeezed your cheek. “I’m yours.” He pecked your lips, before looking in your eyes, “And I’m most definitely repaying the favor when we get home. I mean––if you want to, of course.” Home.

You couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah––Okay.”

You’d never been to Tom’s house before so this felt like sort of a big deal to you, but you were going to try and calm your racing thoughts and heart. You and Tom agreed that you would go around the corner of the building for him to pick you up in his car, not wanting to risk anyone seeing you.

As soon as you were settled in, seatbelt on, Tom drove off and honestly the thrill of having to hide was exciting to the both of you. His hand was gripping your thigh throughout the whole drive and you could tell it was meant as a reminder that he was there for you, but also that he could barely contain himself.

Seeing Tom drive you, the flashing street lights illuminating his face, highlighting his jawline, his hand gripping your thigh––this was a sight you knew you wanted to see more. The intimacy of it all made you warm inside and the feeling of Tom’s fingertips digging into your skin only riled you up further.

You leaned over to kiss his cheek and he smiled at the feeling of your soft lips drifting over his skin. “Darling––” His words were cut off by a harsh moan when you trailed your lips down to his sweet spot, the noise almost too loud for the quiet, tense air in the car.

You teased, licked and bit at his skin, not afraid to leave marks. It was Friday now, if anyone saw them on Monday, they would just assume he’d had an eventful weekend. Honestly, the thought that no one would know that you were the one who left those marks excited you––it would be a secret between you and Tom, a thing for the two of you to share on your own.

Tom’s hands were now gripping the wheel and your thigh with force, trying to get his bearings. “You’re being very naughty today, love. Can’t say that I don’t love it though.”

You smiled sinfully into his neck, continuing your actions. Your hand slid over his thigh teasingly slow to rest on his bulge, fingers squeezing ever so softly and he practically jolted in his seat. “Christ––love unless you want me to crash this car I suggest you stop.”

You pulled away, satisfied with how much you’d riled him up. He almost whined at the loss of contact, subconsciously upset that you’d actually stopped. But as your hand reached back down to find its place between your thighs, his tone shifted.

“Don’t you dare touch what’s mine. That’s my job.”

You actually felt a shiver pass through your body and you squeezed your thighs together at the sound of his dominant voice, excited for what was to come.

When you made it to his apartment, you barely had time to take in the scenery and take off your shoes and jackets before he dragged you to his room. But from what you saw, the decor was simple but elegant, much like Tom. His bedroom was the same, but again, you weren’t too focused on it.

He turned on the dim light in his room, wanting to be able to see you as he pleased you. He stepped closer to you and placed his hands on your waist, looking deep into your eyes. “You still want this?”

You nodded absolutely certain. “Want you to take me.”

His pupils dilated and he pulled your shirt up and over your head, licking his lips, eyes widening when he noticed what you were wearing and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Christ, were you wearing this all day?”

You nodded again. “The underwear’s matching too. Wanna see?”

He got down on his knees, a teasing but desperate tone to his voice. “You’re a smart girl, don’t ask stupid questions.” He unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down along with your socks, mouth dropping open as he got to see the full set.

You ran your hands up and down your body teasingly as he stood up. “Do you like it?”

He shook his head, smiling in disbelief, “Again with the silly questions, love.” He leaned in to kiss you, pulling away to take off his clothes. “You look like a goddess, darling.” You could feel your skin heating up from his words and his stare. He pulled you in for another kiss before bringing you onto the bed.

You lied down in the middle and spread your legs, waiting for him eagerly as he lied down between them. “Can’t fucking wait to taste you, love.”

He pulled your panties over to the side and licked into you, his tongue softly swiping through your folds. His eyes rolled back as he moaned into you, “Taste just as perfect as you look.” He slid his hands around your thighs and pulled you in closer, smiling at the small squeak you let out.

His tongue was exploring you, finding all the spots and all the tricks that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. He was keeping this all to memory, memorizing the way you feel, the way you look. When your breaths quickened and your fingers tugged at his curls, he locked his arm around your stomach, slid one, then two fingers inside of you and sped up his movements, moving his head from side to side as he hummed onto your clit.

Your body tensed and you held onto him for dear life as the knot in your stomach gave out, the pleasure spreading all throughout your body. Your mouth dropped open in ecstasy, your neck craning back and Tom couldn’t look away from you. You looked like a painting and he wanted to commit it to memory.

He let go of you and kissed his way up your body, soothing you with his lips. Your legs were still twitching slightly, your stomach clenching and unclenching when his kisses reached your cheek. “Look so pretty when you come for me.” He kissed along your jaw, “Can’t believe you’ve deprived me of such a beautiful sight for so long.” He kissed your lips and tugged your bottom one between his teeth, before looking at you, eyes wide, “You gonna give me the privilege of seeing it again?”

You smiled, your hands coming up to hold his cheeks. “You can see it whenever you want. As long as you’re the one making it happen.” You pulled him to you and kissed him, the both of you moaning into the small gaps between your mouths.

He started to pull away but you whined and pulled him back making him smile. “I’ve gotta get a condom, love.”

He tried to get up again but you pulled him back down, “M’on the pill Tommy.” You looked up at him, pouting and he almost gasped––the effect you had on him was insane. “Just fuck me please.”

He didn’t need anymore convincing, grabbing a hold of his cock and swiping it through your folds, groaning out loud at how good your wetness felt. You bucked your hips and realizing you were getting desperate, he finally slid into you and all your senses immediately tuned into him.

Just like your dream––All of your senses were in overdrive. All you could feel were the hands tracing every curve of your body, playing you like a toy they’d made themselves. All you could hear was that sweet, rough voice telling you praises and calling you endearing names as your whole body shivered from the pleasure.

His eyes were watching your face, taking you in as he thrusted into you, making sure you were enjoying everything he was giving you. You felt absolutely amazing and so did he. “So perfect for me, darling. That’s it.” He bit his lip and sped up, making your jaw drop as you stared into his eyes, completely open and vulnerable to him. His touch was tantalizing, even better than your fantasies which only meant you’d become more addicted to him and what he could do to you.

He grunted, angling his hips when he found your spot, hitting it over and over, bringing his hand down to play with your clit. “Told you I wanted to see you cum again, pretty girl. So you’re gonna cum then I’m gonna fill you up. That sound okay?”

You nodded eagerly, eyes watching his every move as your hands gripped his arms, your thighs burning invitingly as they stretched around him with every thrust. Then you uttered that one word that always had him almost inappropriately weak for you. “Want to be full of you, professor.”

His jaw slacked and he paused for a slight moment before picking up his pace, faster than before, hips chasing after both your highs, fingers still rubbing you just the way he learned, just the way you liked. “Fuck-–”

A few more thrusts and flicks of his wrist and you were tensing under him, your pussy clenching around him as he let out broken curses and moans, losing his rhythm and releasing into you with a groan.

He rested some of his weight on you for a moment, the both of you smiling and laughing breathlessly as you took in the moment. Your hands came up to play with his curls and he sighed, leaning into your touch. He lowered his head into the crook of your neck and left a few soft kisses, coaxing some sighs from you as well.

After a moment, he rolled over and took you with him, making you nuzzle further into him, his arm wrapped around you, your leg slung over his waist. His hand was rubbing up to your ass and down to your thigh, lulling you to sleep while simultaneously riling you up again.

He kissed your forehead and you kissed his chest in response. “That was fucking amazing, love.”

You nodded and hummed in agreement, “Even better than my dreams.”

He pulled back to look at you, you could hear his heartbeat quicken and you tried to hide your face in his chest. “You had dreams about this too?”

That made you lift your head up to look at him. You could see in his eyes that he wasn’t joking but you were still slightly shocked. “Too?”

He smiled, licking his lips, “Well maybe we should discuss them, and try them out for ourselves.” His hand found its way between your legs again, making you moan but that didn’t stop you from responding.

You nodded, “For research purposes, of course.”

“Of course.” He grinned, “See, I knew I taught you well.” He leaned in to kiss you deeply, “My girl’s the perfect student.”

You spent hours exploring each other's bodies as you reenacted your dreams, both exceeding each other's expectations every time. By the time you fell asleep in each other's arms, it was late at night and you were sweaty, and tired, but overwhelmingly pleased.

❊❊❊❊

The next Friday, it was halloween. Liz had somehow convinced you to go to a halloween party with her. On top of that it was a frat party. And even worse, you dressed up as a school girl because it was all last minute and you didn’t have any time to get a costume.

“Oh come on Y/N, you look hot!”

You turned in the full length mirror to look at your ass that was almost visible in this mini skirt. “You think so?”

“Duh.”

And that’s all the convincing you needed to go out. You needed a little college fun. You hadn’t been to a party in who knows how long because you were always focusing on your work. You deserved this. Also Liz said it was a celebration of your “lay”, yes, she said lay.

“I’m just saying you cannot let me get with him again.”

“Liz it’s literally his frat house that we’re going to and we both know you have little to no self control.”

“Well damn. You couldn’t have sugar coated it?”

“What, you want me to throw a packet of splenda on you?” You joked.

She shoved you, “Dude shut up,” she laughed.

You looked down at your bare thighs that were only partly covered by your thigh high socks and rubbed your arms, regretting not bringing a jacket when Liz spoke up again. “Oh shit, is that Professor Holland?”

Your eyes shot up and made direct eye contact with him. He was wearing a hoodie and some sweats but he still looked great as usual. His eyes trailed down your body and soon your shivers were no longer because of the cold.

“I’ll just wait here.” Liz said suggestively and you walked over to Tom.

“H–Hi.”

He put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to touch you, he didn’t know who was around. “Well hello to you too.” He looked into your eyes, a smirk on his face. You rubbed your arms quickly for warmth, and Tom had to control himself to not look at your chest, even though he could see your nipples hardening from the weather through your shirt. He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and take you home.

“Any plans?” You asked.

“No, I'm just about to go home. I’m uh guessing you have somewhere to be?” His eyes traced your figure again.

“Yeah um me and Liz are going to a frat party.” You pointed back to your friend and gave him a small smile and shrug. “She convinced me.”

He wanted to kiss you so bad but he had to restrain himself.

“Be safe tonight, yeah?” His eyes were comforting, as they always were, but this felt almost more personal? Almost like he didn’t want you to go. And honestly, after seeing him, you almost didn’t want to either. You never defined your relationship with him, so honestly right now he was like a friend with benefits––professor with benefits, if you will.

You nodded, licking your lips nervously. “O––Okay. I will. You be safe too!”

His eyes followed you as you walked off, your friend pulling you along, obviously whispering to you, probably about him. You looked so fucking good and everyone else was going to see that too. It’s not like he owned you or anything, but part of him really wished he could claim you, openly care for you and be affectionate. His thoughts were a mix of wholesome and raunchy and he had no idea how to act.

He almost felt wrong but he couldn’t get the thoughts out of his mind, the way you looked up at him sheepishly, the innocent look in your eyes while you were wearing that mini skirt. His cock was bulging in his boxers ever since he first laid eyes on you. When he got home, he made his way to his bed, undressing almost immediately. Lying down in the middle of the bed, just where you were days before brought a flood of memories into his mind, only making his member throb even more. He tugged at his cock, spitting in his hand to make it slick.

Images of you were flashing in his mind as he sped up his movements, desperate for a release.

He was dying to get a taste of you again. The memory of the way you felt under his fingertips, the way your muscles clenched when he hit the right spots. The way you tasted when you were dripping onto his tongue. The way you looked at him when you came, your lips parted to release broken moans and whimpers. The way your fingers gripped his curls as your body tensed. It was all enough to make him spill over his hand, his breaths coming out in quick pants as his head dropped back onto the pillow.

“Fuck.” He really had it bad for you.

❊❊❊❊

Tom had texted you during class on Tuesday to meet him in his office when you were done with classes for the day. When you stepped into the room, he locked the door immediately, bringing you over to his desk, his lips chasing yours. Screw worrying about people hearing you, he wanted you. Now.

“God, just seeing you in that tight little costume––you have no idea how badly I wanted to ravish you. The thought of all those dumb frat boys seeing you in all your glory like that––I was absolutely beside myself.” So that’s what this was about. His hand came up to hold your cheek, his eyes fiercely staring into yours and you nuzzled into his touch, your hand holding his wrist softly and his eyes softened at the sight of you.

“I’m gonna absolutely devour you.” You gasped and he smiled, pulling your pants along with panties down. He sat you down on his desk and got down on his knees, licking his lips. “As soon as I got a taste of you, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go without it ever again.” He kissed your thigh, looking up at you. “You gonna let me have a taste again? Wanna make you feel good, lovie.”

You nodded, swallowing roughly, “Y––Yeah. Yes please.”

He chuckled breathlessly, “Such a polite little thing you are.” He kissed his way from your inner thigh to your center before licking a torturously slow stripe from your hole to your clit. You let out a sigh and gripped the desk, your fingertips becoming lighter at how hard you were already holding it.

His hands held your thighs open, putting them over his shoulders, holding you in place. His tongue was languidly licking you up and down, savoring your taste and your moans, coaxing them out of you one by one, nonstop. He looked up at you and your breath got caught in your throat, the look in his eyes fierce, almost as if he could see your bare soul and he clearly liked what he saw. He brought his lips to close around your heat after every other swipe of his tongue, passionately kissing your heat.

“So fucking good, angel. Always the best for me.”

You nodded, licking your lips, one of your hands coming to grab at his curls, making him growl into you. “Only for you, Tommy.”

He didn’t stop his tongue or his lips until you came, your back arching, fingers frantically grabbing for whatever you could hold, lip trapped between your teeth to muffle the moans that so desperately wanted to escape into the quiet air of the room. He kept going until you had to pull his head away from you, overwhelmed by all the pleasure and scared that you would scream and alert everyone in the building about what you were up to.

His hands were caressing your thighs, eyes looking at you in awe, almost too innocently for what you’d just done. He stood up between your legs and leaned in to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue and his lips.

He pulled away to look at you, hands holding your hips as your legs wrapped around his waist. You brought your arms up to link around his neck, looking up at him appreciatively and absolutely spent. “So do you think I should wear school girl outfits more often?”

He laughed, his hands holding you tighter, “If you do, my head is never leaving between your thighs.”

You smiled cheekily, batting your lashes at him. “Promise?”

He’d never gotten down on his knees quicker in his life. Let’s just say it took you another hour before you left his office.

❊❊❊❊

Over the past few weeks it had become a routine for you to go over to Tom’s office to seemingly “work on your assignments and review,” so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to show up unannounced Friday afternoon. Without meaning to, though, it seemed you showed up a little too early, and ended up overhearing part of Tom and Harrison’s conversation.

“I can tell Y/N means a lot to you, mate. Don’t lie.” Your heart dropped to your stomach as you skidded just in front of the door, about to turn the corner inside. You backed up and stayed pressed to the wall. Luckily no one really stopped by this side of the building at this time on a Friday, so no one would find you snooping around in the middle of the hallway.

“No I just––”

No. He said no––Okay you weren’t going to freak out. This always happens in the movies, and then the main character runs away before hearing the most important part and they overreact. So you decided to just...wait it out.

So you waited and waited. And the more the silence overwhelmed you, the louder it got. You could feel the tears starting to form in your eyes because you really thought your feelings were mutual. But just as you inched your foot backwards to walk away, he spoke up again, his voice quiet.

“She means everything to me, man. I––It scares me, honestly. I just don’t want to mess it up.”

This time the tears fully formed in your eyes, but for the absolute opposite reason. You smiled and wiped at your eyes, not even bothering to hide anymore as you turned the corner, surprising Tom, his eyes widening as he took in your appearance. Harrison turned around to see you and his gaze filled with concern as well.

“Tom––” your voice was quiet but there was a smile on your face.

“Darling––” He rushed over to you and grabbed your hands, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs to catch the few tears that escaped. “What’s wrong, are you alright?”

Your hands came up to hold his wrists as you looked into his eyes, “I heard you talking.”

His face dropped in realization and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

Harrison cleared his throat and subtly made his way out, “You guys have some things to discuss.” He put a hand on your shoulder and you both smiled at each other appreciatively before he walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Tom took your hands and brought you over to the couch. “I hope I didn’t scare you off, love.”

You shook your head immediately, even climbing in his lap to prove him wrong and he smiled gratefully. “No! It’s just that we never really talked, you know, about us.” He nodded and you took that as a sign to continue, enjoying the way his hands subconsciously slipped under your shirt to rub at your skin soothingly. “I like you Tom, obviously. But I like you a lot.” You linked your hands behind his neck. “I think I might be falling for you.”

His eyes started tearing up as well, as he smiled, “Yeah well, I think I’ve already fallen for you, darling.”

You looked into his eyes and your smile brightened, “Okay maybe I lied––I’ve definitely already fallen for you as well.”

You both laughed lovingly, pulling each other in for a sweet kiss.“Look,” Tom started, licking his lips. “I don’t know what this means for our future, but all I know is I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon.”

You kissed his lips softly, “Well I don’t plan on leaving any time soon either.”

“Good.” He looked at you and you felt as though your soul was out and open for him to hold and love. “Cause you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N and I don’t ever want to lose you.”

You could feel your eyes tearing up again. This felt good. This felt like home.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #professor!tom holland #professor!tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #for a sec tho lol #professor!tom holland imagine #professor!tom holland fic #professor!tom holland oneshot #professor!tom holland smut #professor!tom holland angst #professor!tom holland fluff

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inevitably-johnlocked · 2 years ago

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Hey, first off, this blog is incredible, and you are fucking amazing. But I’m a bit obsessed with a specific type of fic right now, and was hoping you might have a list. The basic points are this: set in medieval times/old times AU, John finds Sherlock as someone’s prisoner/captive, Sherlock is afraid of John and thinks he’s going to hurt him, John cares for Sherlock and is mortified about what happened to him.

I absolutely LOVE fics where one character is a prisoner/captive and is terrified of the other character when they first meet, but later come to trust them. It’s just such a good trope…

(Also I really like how you call everyone “nonny”. Where did that nickname come from, if you don’t mind me asking?)

Hey Lovely!

AHH Thanks for your kind words!! Means so much to me, wow! I am not worthy of such love :P

To answer your second question: Ah, it was just something that came naturally, PLUS it helps people know if I'm being kind or passive aggressive, hah. I use "Nonny" as the default endearment term, because I feel like it makes people feel like they're more welcome here even if they're hiding who they are. It's meant to show that I appreciate their taking time out of their day to contact me. I use "Anon" instead if an anonymous ask comes in that's rude, demeaning, condescending, or is just plain not-cool. It lets people know beforehand that the ask the reply they're about to read is going to be me using my "I don't have time for your shit but I'm gonna say my piece anyway" response, that I wasn't happy with the content of the ask, but respectfully am refraining from calling them a shit disturber, LOL. Most people see the white text first before the reading the grey ask box, so if they see "Anon." rather than my standard "Hey Nonny!", they know I am Not Happy™ but am being a bigger person.

That said, I don't get as many these days that require me to put on my big-girl pants, LOL. And I usually just delete them if other people can't learn from them or can't find value in my response to them.

ANYWAY!

Your initial ask! Ah, I don't have any that come to mind for what you're asking for, though I recall a comic a LOOOOONG time ago where Sherlock was a captured dragon and John was a knight and he rescued him, LOL. Can't remember what it was called, oof.

ANYWAY, you might enjoy the fics on these lists:

Roman and Medieval AUs (SwissMiss)

Medieval Sherlock Times (Alexx)

Johnlock in Prison (Alexx)

Anyone have a fic they can suggest for this Lovely meeting the criteria they're looking for?

#steph replies #johnlock fic reqs #help steph find fics #medieval au #prisoner au #captive au

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infernalrevenge · 3 years ago

Note

Hello~! Hope you are having a wonderful day~! 🐝💜

Would it be okay to get some headcannons or little drabbles for the 4 Lords reacting to their crush of whom is a chubby/curvy Reader and (secretly-) a powerful swimmer (possibly was a lifeguard in the past)? Possibly Reader sees & saves their crush from a leg cramp to slipping off the peer due to ice one day...?

Did lifeguarding for 2 years before COVID started and absolutely loved doing the job, but also enjoyed the class itself!

Yoooo that's really cool :D That's the kind of stuff that really comes in handy in real life huh, I'm glad you had a fun experience with it! Let's bring on the Lords!!!

Alcina Dimitrescu

Respectfully, she is looking 👀

As a lady of thiccness herself, of course she appreciates people of any size and shape.

You might get a little flustered with how much attention she lavishes you with, whether it was with physical affection or just a very appreciative gaze. You'd have a hard time ever doubting her attraction to you on any level.

She's not really much of a swimmer herself, preferring to soak and lounge if she really had to be in any body of water (or fluid, see: the literal blood bath in her castle.)

That said, she's willing to join you for a midday dip if you ask nicely. She'll indulge you, especially if she knew how much you enjoyed it.

She might even go ahead and join you in the deeper parts of the water, it's not like it'll be an issue. By the time it gets to her chest, you'll probably be paddling under the surface to keep afloat.

You can teach her how to swim and do different strokes and kicks as a way to bond and get closer (she wouldn't mind.)

Though there's probably a reason why she doesn't swim so much -- she's incredibly dense due to her added body weight and muscle mass.

Still, it was a valiant effort and the Countess had some fun, even if she wasn't able to float in the same way you were.

Watching you swim her in circles was an activity she vastly preferred, though she wouldn't be opposed to another lesson. Maybe guide her into proper form while you were at it.

Unfortunately, the fantasy of saving her from drowning may be farther from reality. It would actually be more likely for her to save you. Hopefully, you wouldn't mind a tall strong woman such as herself carrying you back to safety when need be.

Donna Beneviento

She's... not fond of swimming.

Okay, it's not really the activity itself that bothers her, it's the fact that she has to change into something if she wants to go in the water but if there's nowhere to change then she has to wear it under her normal clothes, then after the swimming is over she has to deal with being wet and cold for a while--

"You'll see me in a bathing suit," you might say to jokingly convince her.

You'll be surprised at how quickly her tune changes after realizing this, she's already picking out something to wear.

Funnily enough, Angie might even have her own set of swimwear -- just imagine an old timey swimsuit on her wooden doll body... now imagine Donna in a matching pair.

Honestly it's kind of adorable to think about, but don't laugh too much at her. Some light teasing is alright though.

When you get to your destination, Donna tries her best to mostly stay along the sidelines. Maybe dip her toes in a bit, but that's as far as she's willing to go.

...until Angie, without warning, dove into the water for a little bit of fun.

Now normally this wouldn't be a problem, except for the fact that she is a wooden doll and the water would definitely ruin some parts of her body. And before Donna even has time to think about it, she jumps in right after her for a rescue.

Did I mention that she can't swim? Uhhh oops.

It's lucky that you do though SOMEONE HELP THEM

You immediately start going over to them, trying your best to calm Donna down as Angie sat atop her head.

The whole time Donna is clinging to you, watching your strong arms pull you closer back onto the shore. She doesn't even realize it's time to let go by the time you do get there.

She definitely won't be getting into swimming any time soon, but... she did quite enjoy watching you do it. Hope you like an audience from that day forward.

Salvatore Moreau

SWIMMING BUDDIES!!!!

Pardon his excitement but he would be absolutely thrilled to have someone go swimming with him, especially someone who could even keep up with his pace. He kind of wishes that the two of you could spend it somewhere not as dank as his little ol' reservoir though.

Yeah, it's home, but he only wants the best for you, so you two might find yourselves in a secluded lake somewhere. A little privacy never hurt.

In the water, Moreau moves much faster and smoother -- he's literally in his element, of course he would be comfortable moving around.

He even let you ride on his back so you can get some distance. This could be fun!

Though having cramps while in the middle of a big lake was decidedly less fun. It didn't help that Sal can't even point out exactly where it started to stiffen.

It was a good thing your training kicked in at the first sign of his pain, and you tried your best to calm him down.

You let him hold onto your shoulders as you swam him back to shore. Funny how the tables have turned.

Before he could even start apologizing for "ruining the day" and wanting to make it up to you, you start your first aid to relieve his cramps and assure him that everything was alright. You were more than happy just to get to spend time with him, and you were sure to remind him not to push too hard just to impress you.

If you really want him to be quiet? Plant a little kiss on his cheek. That'll render him speechless for a few hours for sure.

Karl Heisenberg

Honestly, it'd be pretty hard to convince Karl to go near any body of water. Since he believed that his body was much like the Narke japonica (Japanese sleeper ray), he believed would be fine in water.

Let's just say he didn't take into account the difference between his own physiology and a fish's, so when he tried to use his powers while in water... uhhhh...

Long story short, no water time for the zappy boi.

You can probably convince him to join you on swimming trips anyway (what a simp) but he won't get in with you. He doesn't want to take the risk.

Besides, he doesn't mind the view ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He swears the way he's looking at you is just being appreciative of the way you dive into the lake. He may get a little closer to the lake too, just to keep an eye on you.

If you tell him about your lifeguarding past, he knows you'll be able to handle yourself, but he just wants to be sure that everything's going to be o--

FUCK!!!!

One second he's on the pier and the next he's in freezing cold water. He's not having a good time!

By the time he realizes you're there and tugging him to safety, all he's thinking is "Don't electrocute them, don't electrocute them, DON'T ELECTROCUTE--"

...how did you get to the shore so fast?

Apparently, he had blacked out somewhere in the commotion of it all and he was lying on his back, a face full of you greeting him as soon as he opened his eyes.

"Well hello there," he'd say with a smirk.

If he got to see an angel every time he ended up in water, he might do it more often. (And he actually might, you oughtta keep a close eye on him during these trips.)

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years ago

Text

The Oncoming Storm Part 25: Home

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Oh no. That's all I have to say. Also, Chen is a delight.

A/N: This chapter was so long that I actually cut it in half to post it over two separate days instead. It was 12 pages and I figured that was a bit much. Though, 8-12 is what I average when I'm writing fiction for publishing so... haha <3 love you guys! hope you are all doing wonderful!! Also please, please make dick jokes in the comments. PLEASE lol.

Part 24 Part 26 Chapter Index

It was a struggle to open your eyes even if you were awake. You had rolled onto your side and were facing the window. You could see the light of the morning peeking in from along the seams of the dark curtains of the hotel room. Somewhere throughout the night, you’d readjusted and now you were the little spoon. You could feel his soft, even breath on your shoulder, warm and comforting. His arm was tucked beneath you, the other wrapped tightly over yours that rested over your chest.

You didn’t want to get up, so you closed your eyes again and sunk into his arms, clearly not thinking. Your back was pressed against his chest, your hips pressed square against his too. He tightened his arm around you, and nuzzled into the side of your neck, a hot sigh tickling your sensitive bruised flesh. More importantly, you could feel him pressed right against your backside in all his glory. There he was. Liu Kang. You snapped your eyes open and were as stiff, well, as he was, afraid that you would make it worse if you moved even if you were incredibly curious.

Just what kind of good dreams was he having?

Then you had to try not to laugh. You carefully turned to bury your face in the pillows, and it was so hot that you swore you might be burning alive. Liu Kang and his inherent warmth against every single part of your body was killing you.

You were going to suffocate. Or catch fire.

Deep breaths. Breathe through his hand gently clutching yours. You could do this.

Okay.

No big deal.

Liu Kang was wrapped around you, pressed against you, and you were trapped in his arms and trying desperately to think about anything other than that. The impure thoughts were rampant.

Chen would have been screaming your victory throughout the temple. She also would have told you to just go for it. Make that complicated ride that much more complicated. Poor choice of words, brain. Chen had gotten into your head. And all the tension you’d built up with Kung Lao and Liu Kang had no release to speak of.

“Liu?” You decided the best thing to do would be to wake him up. Sneaking out of his arms would have made things both awkward and worse.

He stirred at the sound of your voice and pulled you tighter. It took everything inside of you not make a sound of surprised delight at the impressive mental picture he had very clearly painted. Oh, god there were so many jokes popping into your head. Sarcastic defense mechanism, go away! You had to keep it together. No laughing. No moaning. No jokes.

Your face had never been redder. He was waking up. Thank god. His lips brushed against your shoulder, and he nuzzled right against the side of your neck, nose pressing just behind your ear. This was hard. Ah, damnit brain. No jokes! With a soft moan just against your neck, he shifted.

Then, very suddenly, Liu pulled his arm out from beneath you, let you go and rolled onto his back, knees bent so that the blankets didn’t reveal any secrets. Yeah, the secret had more than been revealed already. You appreciated his modesty anyway. You carefully scooted onto your back, careful not to brush against him in any way and fanned your face. There was no talking down the redness in your cheeks, no hiding what had happened.

“Sorry,” he managed, his voice still gruff and sleepy. He stared at the ceiling and seemed to be coaching himself through his own deep breaths. You sat up and adjusted your shirt that had become unbelievably crooked. Some of the buttons had even come undone. Jeez, you’d certainly been busy while you’d slept. “You… sleep alright?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and the fact that he was trying to have a totally normal conversation like that hadn’t happened was hilarious.

No laughing.

“Yeah, it took a while to get to sleep but I basically blacked out when I did. Feels like I could sleep for another year though.” You somehow managed to act normal. As normal as you could with your face as red as it was and your eyes as wide as they were. You could barely have a conversation about where you were relationship-wise, so you were pretty sure that you weren’t ready to discuss his morning wood.

You needed Chen in that moment. You needed Chen to help you uncomplicate this yarn ball of chaos in your head. Then again, Chen would have just told you to go for it. To reach around and give it a go. You had to close your eyes and try not to laugh again. “What about you?”

You didn’t laugh. Kudos to you.

“Tired this morning.” It was the first time that you had ever seen Liu Kang looking like he could have slept longer than you did. In fact, he was a little pale. Not terribly so, but then again, all the blood in his body was busy somewhere else. It took every ounce of your strength not to ask him if he was okay. He would tell you if he wasn’t. “I need a shower. Will you be okay alone?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.” You purposely turned toward your own bed to offer him modesty, but you might never be your normal color again. Red forever. You waited for the sound of the bathroom door closing before you flopped back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. You’d changed your mind. “I can never ever tell Chen this happened.” The teasing would have gone on forever.

While he was in the shower, you changed into some of your new clothes and then cleaned yourself up. In the mirror your cheeks were finally turning back to a normal rosy color. You checked on the jade to make sure that nothing had changed during the night, and then you packed up, opened the curtains to the hotel room, and straightened up while you waited for Liu, doing anything in your power to stop your renegade thoughts.

“Do you need to stop anywhere before we go back to the temple?” Liu joined you moments after you were dressed, clothed in his familiar black and white gi, and back to his old self. Still a little pale though.

“Hmm?” You had just finished tucking the jade into your bag.

“You didn’t really get the chance to pack up your things to stay with us. I figured you might need to do some shopping.”

He was so damn thoughtful. “I actually went shopping before I met with you yesterday morning.” You patted the bag. “So, I’m okay. Thank you for offering though. I really did need a few things, especially since I keep destroying everything I wear with ink.” You patted his shoulder as you walked past him to sneak into the bathroom now that he was finished. You had to make yourself presentable and enjoy these modern amenities one last time before you returned to the temple.

Afterward, you stopped at a food stall on the road and grabbed breakfast. Then you hiked up the mountain just far enough so that Liu could summon Raiden to bring you back. You still weren’t quite sure how they did that. Was it a prayer? It looked like a prayer. He was a God, after all. Liu had used a flourish of fire, but Kung Lao had just closed his eyes and then boom. Lightning.

You were back in the temple in a flash. You pulled the bundle of jade out of your bag and offered it to Raiden while Liu Kang updated him on what you’d gone through. It felt weird to be back but not in a bad way, necessarily. This was your home now, you guessed. You hadn’t really talked about it. Everything had happened naturally and without question.

Raiden peered into the shirt and then allowed the jade to fall onto a second pedestal that had been placed a few feet away from the first one which was currently encased in glass. “Good.” Raiden seemed impressed, and you beamed. He really did have a fatherly presence about him. “I need time to examine these artifacts and attempt to unravel their purpose. The wickedness and power that has been infused within them continues to elude me.” You had expected him to need time, but you had also expected him to be able to figure it out. Again. He was a god. These things took time, you figured but you also had no idea how to process what you were up against. It was still way above your head. “From what I’ve devised from the dotaku, it was used in a dark ritual. It is tainted beyond my sight with dark energy. You two will check into the infirmary on and off for the next few days. Kung Lao has come down with a terrible fever since his return. I suspect it’s the curse on these objects causing it.”

Liu gave you an accusatory look as if to ask if you were hiding something from him. You shrugged and shook your head to his silent request. “I’m bruised all over but other than that? I feel fine. And that bell was all over me. We were much more careful about the jade. Trust me, if I had a high fever then you would know it. I’m a big baby about fevers.”

“Even if it turns out that you are immune to the impact of these objects, I would like you both to make certain that you keep a watchful eye on your health and report all symptoms to those in the infirmary.”

“Yes, of course Lord Raiden.” Liu Kang bowed respectfully before him.

“When I’ve uncovered anything of note then I will call upon you.” Raiden spoke more to you than to Liu and you bowed your head as you had learned to do. You were grateful to him for trying to help you at all. Raiden very well could have just let you die and had someone else take the mark from you. This was still beyond your understanding. Gods, curses, magic. You’d jumped into it all headfirst and had embraced the chaos, but there were moments where your logic-brain said ‘excuse me’ and you had to sort out the nonsense there.

You were trying your best, but it always came back to thought that you were very likely going to die because of this. Raiden turned away from you, dismissing you without a word. Liu nodded toward the doorway and you walked with him, dragging your bag behind you. Being out in the world for a few days had been nice. You weren’t sure how long it would take to acclimate to life in Raiden’s Temple. Right now, you were just hoping that you’d have the time to figure that out.

You made your way into the infirmary and Chen practically ran to you and gave you a hug. You were a little surprised by it but returned the affection. “Welcome back!” Chen smiled brightly and then bowed to Liu Kang respectfully. “Raiden has orders for us to keep an eye on the two of you. Please take a seat.” Chen led you to one of the empty benches, so you sat down there together.

Chen examined Liu first, taking his vitals and writing them down in a notebook she had nearby. You sat awkwardly, tapping your forefinger against your knee. Chen sat back up after she was done and then rested her hands on her knees.

“You have a fever, Liu Kang.” She tapped the paper and he blinked in surprise.

“I feel fine.” He insisted, looking to you as if he had to justify it after all his accusatory glances. He’d worried about you so much that he seemed to think that the tables were about to be turned.

“Just over 100. But if Kung Lao is anything to judge by then this isn’t the worst of it yet. I recommend rest and fluids.” Chen then frowned and narrowed her eyes. “Not that I can force you to rest, of course. I suggested the same to Kung Lao and he said, and I quote ‘I will take it into consideration’ except that his fever was spiking up to 104.”

“That sounds right.” Liu sighed but you felt suddenly on high alert. That was one hell of a fever! You’d have to check in on him. “I’ll rest and if I feel worse then I’ll check back in. If not, then I will be here in the morning just in case.”

“Thank you.” Chen slumped her shoulders as if this were a relief in comparison to having dealt with Kung Lao.

“Y/N?” Chen looked to you disapprovingly as if you were about to be just as stubborn.

“I feel fine! Why doesn’t anyone believe me?”

“You often say that you’re feeling fine when you are not, in fact, fine,” Liu whispered, and Chen snorted with laughter while taking your vitals.

“Well, I am legitimately fine right now. Honestly! And I don’t mean to lie about that stuff. The last few weeks have been weird so my definition of fine has kind of changed.” You pouted. You hadn’t meant to give anyone a false sense of how you’d been feeling but fine one day had meant that you could use your arms again and fine another meant that you’d had a vision but were still functioning. Chen glared at you, trying to discern if you were hiding something. Then she made a little note in her book. You craned your neck to try and read it and so did Liu. You gave him a look to silently scold him, and he returned it. You tightened your lips not to laugh but couldn’t hide your grin.

“She’s not lying. No fever. In fact, your temperature is even a little low. This is the most normal checkup you’ve had since you’ve been here, Y/N. I want you to come in for bloodwork later but for now… you’re okay.” Chen still seemed suspicious and Liu did too.

“Wow, you just can’t believe I’m the finest in the land right now.” You teased and Liu laughed and then shook his head as if embarrassed that he’d laughed at it. It had been a terrible joke, to be fair.

“Thank you.” Liu stood and bowed politely to Chen. You joined him and waved at Chen.

“Y/N? Could I talk to you for a second?” Chen called you back just as you’d made it outside the infirmary and back to your bag.

“I’ll be two seconds.” You told Liu who leaned against the wall of the doorway. Now that you knew he had a fever, his pale face made sense. Your hurried over to Chen. “What’s up?”

“So…?” Chen nodded toward Liu Kang and then gestured to you. You stared in disbelief.

“Are you kidding me? Right now?”

“Umm, yeah right now.”

“It’s complicated.” You rubbed your temples in annoyance. “And I obviously don’t have time to talk about it right now.”

“Oh, thank god that it’s finally complicated!”

“It has always been complicated, Chen. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I can’t. But this is disappointing news.” Chen sighed in obvious frustration. Why was she frustrated? You were the one surrounded by a sea of hormones all damn day! “Come chat with me when you get the chance. I want to know how it went and also what complicated means.”

“Can I please go now, Chen? Please? He’s just standing behind me waiting for me while you gossip.”

“Yeah, he is, isn’t he? He hasn’t taken his eyes off you once by the way.” Chen sighed dreamily but her expression quickly shifted. “On a more serious note… I’m worried that you aren’t having symptoms the way that they are. I have a bad feeling again. Keep checking in with me, okay?”

“You are a surprise every time I talk to you.” You gently grasped Chen’s shoulder. “I’m going now.”

“You better find me later!”

“You’re a terrible monk,” You whispered and then pointed at another monk who had been very obviously listening in, silently nodding your head as if to add in that he, too, was a terrible monk.

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taetaespeaches · 4 years ago

Text

“You’re not buying our kids $600 shoes.”

namjoon x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.1K

a/n: This fic takes place around the time Namjoon showed off those cute little baby shoes in his studio :( so early 2019?? so Joon and Daisy have been going strong a few months shy of a year and well, they’re already talking about babies (in the future) because you know, why not? They’re soulmates, they know what they want. Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy! :))

WITH your heavy workload, you hadn’t been able to visit Namjoon in the studio for quite some time and you missed it. There was a special appreciation you felt for the man as you watched him in his element.

Choosing to take a long lunch, you picked up some food and decided to surprise your man with some takeout and, well, you. Knowing the door was unlocked, you chose to knock anyway, just to tease your boyfriend by making him get up to answer the door.

“Come in,” his voice called out, you smirking to yourself as you simply knocked again. “Yeah, come in,” he welcomed again. One more knock, and you were met with silence as you awaited his appearance in the door frame. It didn’t take long for him to cross the space of his studio, the door opening to reveal you, leaning against the wall as you held the bag of food down at your leg.

“Delivery,” you smirked, Namjoon’s lips spreading into a happy grin as his eyes widened and brightened in excitement.

“Daisy,” he greeted happily, “Babe, what are you doing here?” He asked, stepping toward you, wrapping an arm around your lower back, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“Well this is just way too much food to eat by myself,” you joked, gesturing to the bag by lifting your hand slightly. “Plus, I missed you,” you kissed him again. “Missed seeing you work,” you mumbled against his lips.

“I missed you too,” he replied with a grin. “Get in here,” he told you as he tugged you forward, pulling you both inside the studio before he shut the door.

You always loved Namjoon’s studio. It was perfectly decorated to represent his personality, and he took great pride in the space. The room had always been very comfortable. Like a second home.

“How long do I get you for?” He asked as he took the bag from you, setting it on the table the sat in front of his sofa.

“Um,” you thought as you looked around the space, noticing small changes in the placement of certain figures and books. “I have about an hour.”

“That’ll do,” he grinned, approaching you once again, taking your hand in his, leading you to the couch. “Thank you for visiting,” he told you genuinely. “And for the food,” he added, nodding toward the takeout boxes.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you smirked, “I could have brought all seafood, you don’t know yet.”

Looking to the boxes with wide eyes, Namjoon took a moment to crack a smile. “Then I’ll watch you eat,” he countered, you giggling as you reached to open the boxes, revealing various dishes Joon loved. “You’re amazing,” he complimented, placing a hand on your thigh as he leaned toward you, leaving a kiss to your exposed neck.

“It sounds like work should slow down a bit pretty quick then, right?” He asked, wiping his hands on a napkin as you reached to close up the boxes, having devoured the meal.

“Yeah, hopefully,” you confirmed. “If everything goes to plan.”

“I’m sure it will,” he assured you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Thanks, Dimples,” you smiled graciously. “Are you working on anything right now?” You asked, nodding to the computer.

“Ah,” he exclaimed excitedly, you smiling fondly at his reaction. “The song is about done but I’ve been recording some adlibs to be added into the vocal sections. Just a bit. Right now they’re divided.” Humming in thought, you nodded. “You want to hear it?”

“Yes, please,” you replied enthusiastically, Namjoon standing and quickly approaching his computer.

“How much time do you have left?” He asked as he sat in his chair, you checking your phone for the time.

“Uh, ten minutes,” you told him, Namjoon nodding as he pulled up the track.

“Perfect,” he whispered as he clicked a few things before starting the song. “Ok, tell me what you think.”

The song started with a groovy R&B sound, and you instantly knew it would be a fan favorite. Jimin started with the first verse, his vocals light and airy and as perfect as ever. Then Taehyung sang a verse, the vocals richer and just as good. When Namjoon’s verse kicked in, you sat up, taking in the words and the delivery. The man knew exactly what he was doing when it came to music and he never failed to amaze you.

“This song is incredible, holy shit,” you told him. “You sound great.” The man turned in his chair to flash you a thankful smile, a slight shyness in his features. No matter how many times you complimented him, he never did get used to it.

The song was the kind of song that you almost just couldn’t help but dance to. It was also the kind of song you didn’t want to end. However, the ending was absolute perfection with Jungkook and Taehyung switching line for line before Taehyung did a small run, marking the official completion of the track.

Namjoon stared at you expectantly, you tossing your hands in the air. “That’s a fucking bop, babe, oh my god,” you smiled. “I’m obsessed with that, play it again.”

Chuckling at your sincere enthusiasm, he dipped his head down, looking toward his lap. “It’s good?”

“I think the words I used were a fucking bop,” you clarified. “It’s so good, I think your fans are going to lose their minds over that one.” The man breathed out a sigh of relief, looking at you with bright eyes as he smiled. “You said you’re recording adlibs?”

“Yeah, just to make the song sound more cohesive and rich,” he told you, you nodding quickly in understanding.

“I think that would be good,” you agreed, pretending as though you knew anything about music production. You had no real clue what you were saying, but you knew Namjoon sometimes just needed a boost in confidence over his decisions. “You know what’s best,” you assured him. “It’s going to be even better when it’s all done.”

Giving you a shy smile, he nodded his head a single time, almost as if he was respectfully bowing at you, making you giggle. “Thank you,” he said genuinely, you waving him off.

“Now, play it again,” you grinned. “I need to place it in my memory so I can replay it until the album comes out.”

Laughing, Namjoon turned back to the computer, restarting the track. As you listened, you began cleaning off the small table, placing the boxes in the bag before taking it to the trash can that sat across the room. The song filling the room, you looked around at Namjoon’s belongings, appreciating his collection of toys and figures. He was beyond endearing.

And then you spotted them. And your heart fluttered before butterflies formed in your belly. Utterly endearing.

You could feel Namjoon’s eyes on you as you reached for the small pair of shoes, holding them against your chest. Turning to face your soft boyfriend, you pouted. “What are these?”

Flashing his dimples at you, he chuckled shyly, covering his mouth in slight embarrassment as he lowered the volume on the track, which you later learned was titled ‘Home’. “I thought they were cute.”

“You’re cute,” you told him, looking down at the shoes. “Who buys baby shoes because they think they’re cute?” You giggled. “Oh my god, I love you so much.”

“Come here,” he told you, smiling widely at your reaction to the objects. Walking toward him, you carried the shoes in one hand, your other hand resting on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around your thighs. Tugging on you, you complied, sitting on his lap, placing the shoes in your lap.

“They are very cute,” you cooed, Namjoon smiling against your cheek before pressing a kiss to it.

“They would be super cute on a baby too, don’t you think?” He questioned, his shy demeanor mixing with his forward question.

“Do you ever think about having children together?” You asked him, skipping the passiveness of his hints, boldly jumping into the topic.

Smiling softly at you, he rested his dimpled cheek against your shoulder, toying with the little fringe on the shoe in your lap. “Why do you think I bought these?” Turning toward him, you kissed the side of his head affectionately.

“You’re the most adorable man ever,” you complimented, Namjoon letting out a breathy laugh at your comment. “You know I think about it too, right?” You asked him, Namjoon humming thoughtfully. “Someday. Like, I can wait to have kids, but I can’t wait to have kids with you,” you told him, causing Namjoon to lift his head to look into your eyes. “Does that make sense?”

Nodding his head, he shot you a dimply close-mouthed grin. “I can’t wait to have kids with you either,” his smile opened beautifully. Placing his forehead against your own, your hand moved from his shoulder to hold the side of his face.

“I seriously can’t wait to make you a dad, babe,” you pouted, Namjoon kissing your pouted lips quickly. “I almost think you were born to be a father.” Above all else, Namjoon really wanted children. It was his dream to be a dad, which you had briefly talked about before but never in depth. But you knew how excited he was about the possibility of having kids in the future, and it was impossible not to think about that possibility being a shared future. You knew Namjoon would be a natural at parenthood, and that was confirmed by the way his eyes teared up at your genuine compliment.

“I love you so much,” he confessed passionately, emphasizing the words in a way that told you he meant the confession with every fiber of his being as he kissed you once more. “I’m so excited to see you be a mother, babe, I think about it more than I’m even willing to admit,” he chuckled, you giggling with him, resting your cheek on his as you kissed the side of his nose through your smile.

“One day,” you told him. “I promise.” You moved to kiss is cheeks, peppering his face in pecks, the man squeezing the tops of your thighs as he laughed.

“These will probably be out of style by then, huh?” He thought out loud, patting the little shoes you still held onto.

“Mm, the little one could bring back the style. We’ll be raising a trend setter,” you smirked, Namjoon’s eyes widening in excitement. Oh god, combining fashion and children had to be Namjoon’s ultimate fantasy. Lifting the shoes to inspect them further, you pulled your eyebrows together skeptically. “Joon, are these designer?”

“Hm?” He questioned, pretending he didn’t hear your question.

“Namjoon. How much were these?” The man evaded your gaze looking back to his computer to check the time. “Joon.”

“Ah, dang it, it looks like your lunch hour is up,” he shot you a pout, you holding back a smile as you shook your head at him.

“$400?” You questioned, the man shaking his head. “More?” Namjoon shrugged. “$500?” Silence. “Namjoon, no,” you fought back your growing grin. “$600?”

“Not quite,” he countered, you sighing as your lips fully curved upward.

“You’re ridiculous,” you told him fondly as you placed the shoes very carefully on his desk. “I’ll let you handle those.” Standing from his lap the man chuckled at your reaction to the overpriced baby shoes.

“They’re so cute though, look at them,” he defended in a whiny tone. “They’re worth it, aren’t they?”

Shooting him a slight glare, you hummed. “Sure, Dimples,” you teasingly agreed. “I’ll see you at home,” you bid him farewell, placing a kiss to his lips before you headed towards the door.

“See you at home, Daisy,” he called out, watching you walk away.

“I love you,” you told him as you created more distance between you both “but you’re not buying our kids $600 shoes,” you informed him as you opened the door.

“They weren’t even $600, stop exaggerating,” he smiled as you stepped outside.

“It’s not happening,” you yelled to him just before the door shut, separating you from the man until you both arrived home later that night.

As Namjoon sat in his studio, chuckling to himself fondly as he stared at the baby shoes, you walked down the corridor, giggling to yourself about the silly soft man that you absolutely planned to marry and have kids with one day. And though that day was still far off, you were both picturing it vividly in that moment. And it was perfect.

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alovesongshewrote · 4 years ago

Text

Jolene | Hisirdoux Casperan x Reader

Plot: Douxie teaches you how to play the guitar after a nasty break-up.

Word Count: 1,794

Warnings: Angst, descriptions of being in a toxic relationship, break-ups, crying, cheating, the gif has nothing to do with the plot i just like it

A/N: So, while this is cute towards the end and everything, I just want to apologize for anything that might be triggering. I got out of a very nasty relationship recently and I needed to vent. Thank the gods for the wizard boy, amirite? Anyway, thank you so much for reading, AATY will be updated soon, it’s just taking longer because I want to stay accurate to the actual episodes of wizards. Love you guys, please enjoy <3

(Also, try reading this while listening to Jolene and tell me what you think, bc I never did that and I want to know)

Tag List: @furblrwurblr

Looking back on it, you should have broken things off sooner.

Literally, every flag in that relationship had been red, but you ignored them all hoping that he’d get better. That he’d start to listen to you without responding in a resentful way, that he’d stop trying to control you, that he’d learn to respect your boundaries without a fight. It never happened.

You tried to bring up your grievances with him, but he always tried to turn it back on you, making it seem like your fault. It didn’t work. You were smart enough to recognize manipulation and gaslighting, but you weren’t smart enough to leave.

And then he cheated on you. That was enough.

You ended things as respectfully as possible, even though he really didn’t deserve it. You didn’t even mention his infidelity or the fact that he had never respected you. All you did was tell him that it wasn’t a good time for a relationship. He tried to make you feel guilty, but he never once asked you to stay or told you he loved you. You did the right thing. You knew that.

But you felt like crap after it was over.

All you did for the next two days was lounge around in your pyjamas and listen to ‘Jolene,’ by Dolly Parton over and over again. It wasn’t productive, but it was what you needed.

It made your friends a little nervous though.

Throughout your little break from society, you'd received a decent amount of texts from concerned friends who weren’t super sure what was going on but wanted to support you nonetheless.

Douxie was the first person you’d told.

He was the friend you trusted the most.

Of course, he was concerned for you. So concerned, in fact, that he straight-up ran to your apartment to spend time with you. And you really appreciated that.

You’d let him into your small home, which was surprisingly clean for the spiral you’d been going down. The only thing that a person could find odd was the music you were listening to. It was just ‘Jolene’ by Dolly Parton, over and over again.

It wasn’t exactly his type of music, but he respected your coping mechanisms. And he had to admit, the guitar was really nice.

“So, how’re you holding up,”

“I’m okay I guess. Better than I thought I’d be. It just kinda hurts, y’ know?”

“I know, darling, I know. Here, sit down, I’m making you some tea,”

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m going to,”

You smiled, watching him walk into your kitchen before you flopped down onto your couch. The tea didn’t take long, and before you knew it, Douxie was on the couch next to you.

The warmth from the cup was nice, simulating human contact. You missed human contact. And now you had no one to give it to you. Not like you did before, but still, the thought stung.

You didn’t realize there were tears in your eyes until Douxie’s hand was on your shoulder. His hazel eyes peering into yours. You hoped he didn’t see how hurt you really were.

He did.

“Oh, love, come ‘ere,”

More tears came to your eyes as Douxie came closer, wrapping you in the best hug you’d had in months. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. He just held you close and let you cry into his shoulder for as long as you needed. And this was what you needed.

It took you about ten minutes to cry yourself out. Douxie didn’t mind. He was going to be there for you, no matter what, and if that meant his shirt got a little damp, he didn’t care. You were more important.

“Thanks, Doux,” you said, voice rough from crying, “Oh, god. I’m sorry,”

“You don’t need to apologize. You needed to vent your feelings, I’m just glad I could help,”

“Me too,” you pulled back, just enough to see his face, “I’m still going to apologize for getting your shirt wet though,”

Douxie laughed, “That’s fine, (Y/N), I care more about you than the shirt,”

You didn’t say anything. If you did you’d cry again.

So, you just sat there, relaxing with your friend, drinking tea and listening to Jolene on repeat. Your eyes were closed, your head on his shoulder, and his arm around you. It was nice. Really nice. Better than anything in your actual relationship.

And then you had an idea.

“Hey, Douxie? You do music, yeah?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Do you think you could teach me how to play this on the guitar?”

“If you want me to I can,”

“I think I’d like that. I want to make something good out of this. It can’t be all heartbreak,”

“You’re right, darling, it can’t. We won’t let it,”

You smiled at him, making his whole being feel warm, “Thank you,”

“It’s my pleasure. I can pick you up tomorrow if you’d like?”

“That sounds good,” you said, relaxing back into your place at his side.

The two of you stayed like that for another hour. You could have stayed there forever, but you wanted Douxie to get home before it got too dark. Weird things happened in Arcadia at night, and wizard or not, you’d prefer it if he stayed safe.

You said goodbye in a moment of tension. Not the same angry tension you’d known with your ex, but something new. Something much softer. You realized then that you wanted to kiss Douxie. That kissing him wouldn’t be a chore, something you did to keep up appearances. It wouldn’t be something that was done to you because someone else wanted it. This would be something you did because you wanted to. But you didn’t kiss him. Not yet.

The next day, Douxie was at your door, ready to walk you from your apartment to his. It wasn’t a long walk by any means, but it was enough to fit in some quirky banter. It was more than enough for you to feel safe again.

“Do you think pigeons have feelings?” you asked as Douxie unlocked the door.

“Probably. We could ask Archie, he might know?”

“That sounds like a plan,”

He let you into his home, which was just as you remembered it. Comfortable, a bit scrappy, but in a way that made you feel comfortable. Right now, Douxie’s apartment felt more like home than yours did.

“You get the guitar, I’ll make tea,” you said, turning to face him.

“You don’t have to-”

“Ah, yes, but I’m going to,”

He smiled as you walked away.

One pot of tea later, a guitar was in your hands. It was taking you a hot minute to get the chords right, but you were nothing if not determined. Douxie was an amazing teacher. He was patient, calm, and not at all condescending. It was a nice change from what you were used to.

“Here, let me,” he said, moving his hands to rest over yours, positioning your hands properly, “Like this,”

“Thank you, Douxie,”

“It’s not a problem, love,”

“No, I mean, seriously. You didn’t have to do this. Thank you,”

He moved his eyes from your hands to your eyes, “(Y/N), of course I had to do this. You deserve the world and better,” he took a deep breath, “Love, I’m so sorry that that bastard hurt you. He did so many awful things to you, and you’re incredible for handling it the way that you did,”

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah? You handled it like an adult. I think I would have killed him,”

You laughed. You wouldn’t mind it so much if Douxie fought your ex. You didn’t want him dead, but if your wizard friend could kick his ass a little, that would be nice. Of course, the first one who got a chance at knocking some sense into that slimy git would be you, but after that Douxie could have his turn. The thought made you laugh harder.

It only took a minute for both you and Douxie to be on the floor, laughing. It wasn’t even that funny, but crying from laughter felt a lot better than crying from heartbreak. Eventually, you picked up the guitar again, but it took a while. You couldn’t get enough of Douxie’s laugh, and he couldn’t get enough of yours.

Before he walked you home, Douxie grabbed your shoulders, “You know you deserve better than him, right?”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist, “I know. But it’s nice to hear someone else say it,”

“I’m glad I could be of service,”

You giggled again, still wanting to kiss him. But you didn’t. Not yet.

It took you a little while to learn all of Jolene. Some parts were harder than others, but eventually, you got it. Douxie had never been prouder.

After that, you were addicted. You got Douxie to teach you other songs. It didn’t take much convincing. He loved listening to you play. He loved a lot more than that, and you loved a lot more than the guitar.

It had been a few months since the break-up.

You were in Douxie’s apartment, Archie curled up by the window, the wizard himself in the kitchen, and you on the couch, trying to get a chord right. It wasn’t going well. You groaned loudly, waking Archie.

“You don’t have more questions about pigeons, do you? Because I told you, I will not be speaking with them again-”

“No, Arch, it’s not that. It’s just this freaking chord is driving me insane,”

“Ah,” the familiar said, looking between you and the guitar, “I’d help if I had hands. Good luck, though,”

“Thanks, Arch,” you returned your focus to the chord, still frustrated. Then Douxie’s hands were on yours.

“You’ve almost got it, it’s just-” he adjusted your hands. As he did, you noticed how close he was, seated behind you on the couch.

“Thank you, Doux. Not just for this, I mean for everything, you’ve been amazing the past few months, and I-”

“(Y/N), I would do anything for you,”

You turned as much as you could, facing him, “Really?” you asked, hearing your own smirk in your voice.

Douxie laughed slightly, “Really. I-” he bit his lip, driving you more insane than any guitar chord ever could, “I think I love you, (Y/N),”

This was it.

You (finally) kissed him.

And it wasn’t a chore or something that was done to you, it was something you did that you both wanted to do. It was soft and safe, and it felt good. It felt like you were loved the way you deserved to be loved. This was the world and better.

“I love you too, Douxie,”

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taekooktimeline · 4 years ago

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Okay so, that's not exactly a question related to taekook, but, I was curious to know: how did both of you decided to make a timeline and to work together to do it? How did you two met? Sorry if it's too personal!

Sara: Hi ! You’re so cute. It’s not a very personal story :P Back in April I was writing under a tweet about some Taekook-related theories of mine. Kayla then popped up and we started a conversation. Here is the thread although I changed some of my opinions after further research (like the gcf topic): https://twitter.com/taeggukstime/status/1252218411771453441?s=21. It eventually led us into DM’s to discuss things further in a private setting. We talked a looot as we tried to figure out Taekook’s relationship evolution and it led us to some conclusions. Kayla then thought it was a good idea to immortalize it by creating a little Timeline so I agreed to do it because she was very sweet and articulated, a huge taekooker and I enjoyed talking with her, although I had doubts about it because I didn’t want to spend too much time on something that I thought nobody would read. I’ve always been happy being an observer that didn’t really engage with the fandom other than voting, going to concerts and such. My experience was more so between me & BTS and I felt iffy about fandom interaction because I saw all the drama and I’m not a social person (I used to have huge social anxiety and can take a month to reply to a real life friend’s text). Kayla told me she was in contact with a youtuber and would get us promo but for some reason I still didn’t think people would be interested. Anyhow, we initially made a 10 page long document on Word with no pictures that covered the entire 7 years 😂 That was the very first version of what it is today and it was simply a basic explanation of our take on their evolution with some important mentions instead of a compilation of moments. It turned out that we still had like a couple of months until Peach started making her video so we began including more “mentions” of moments that supported the theory and it basically got out of hand to the point that we were rushing to cover the maximum amount of moments before the day of promo. I was so stressed that I was basically eating once a day for a while. You know that finding a single tricky date in which something was filmed can take me 6 hours straight or a couple days? Just the date. Sometimes I have to resort to looking at their earrings as the last option because we had to know the exact order to some key events. Mind you, this was during total lockdown so I had stopped working and couldn’t leave my house even if I wanted to. Luckily we had greater success than I expected even if we aren’t huge influencers and I’m extremely happy that people take the time to read such a long document and furthermore helps them find comfort or they find it eye-opening. Thank you for your appreciation!! 💜

Kayla: hello! This isn’t personal at all! In fact, I’m touched you’d like to know more about us ☺️can you believe I’ve never met Sara in real life? We’re in different countries, an ocean away. I love our synergy so much and the power of technology amazes me. We make a great team. As Sara said, we met through Twitter. I was looking up info on various topics and she was so helpful and answered. We were talking publicly and I asked if I could DM her to discuss further. Within DMs we started organically brainstorming a timeline of TK’s relationship and then I thought we did such a good job we should immortalize it. Peachlesslyyy is an amazing TK YouTube account, who I consider a friend, and I’ve supported her account since before it really took off (and wow has her account grown! She deserves all the love and support). Before my anxiety got the best of me, I’d interact more freely in YT channels, especially in Peach’s YT account because she’s a great moderator whose followers are fantastic at brainstorming and debating respectfully. And at one point I mentioned Sara and I were drafting a timeline. People were interested in seeing it and Peach generously offered to share it on her community tab. She was planning to make a timeline video so it was perfect timing to share what we were seeing. Our little Word doc without pics suddenly evolved to host pics and links to moments, and transitioned to google docs where we could more easily edit. We quickly hurried to add as much as we could. Peach never rushed us but since people were eager we hurried to get it out, which meant the original doc didn’t cover nearly the amount it does now. As you can see in “recent additions”, so much has been added since we unlocked the doc for public viewing. And we hope to add more when we have time! We have quite a bit pending in our private brainstorm doc to review as we can. There’s definitely quite a bit to add ☺️anyway, we never expected the timeline to get the traffic it did and it just blossomed from there, with us adding more moments, updating as we can and creating a tumblr that's more user friendly, while still updating google docs (and it’s all thanks to Sara for finding tumblr and figuring out the nuances of it). Now that we don’t have time constraints, we can review moments at our own pace, around our personal lives, and we can use raw links vs analysts videos as much as possible (or raw + analyst -if we want a moment slowed down or zoomed in then an analyst channel helps greatly, even if we don’t endorse said channel being used). Nona Pocha is also another TK YouTube account who I consider a friend, and who helped promote the timeline when we got it transitioned to tumblr. She has been a great supporter who has cheered us on. I’m incredibly grateful to both for giving our timeline the promotion to grow and reach other taekookers. It helped so much. And I’m just beyond shocked and grateful for the love and support we get for this timeline. Hearing it’s logical and objective, full of love and respect to all members, and is a source of comfort / eye opening is amazing feedback that touches me. Hearing people are recommending it is heartwarming. This is our baby but it's a labor of love. It takes a lot of effort to keep it up and be as objective as possible (which requires a lot of reviewing of the footage then back checking each other). The support truly is the motivation to keep going, knowing people care to hear our thoughts. So thank you for being a supporter and reader💜

#discussions #taekooktimeline #asks

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palendromicdragonrider · 5 years ago

Text

Turn Back the Hands - Part 3

“Okay,” Hilda grunted. “If anyone had said anything about climbing, I would not have made such an effort to look cute.”

Claude looked up at Hilda, the last of the trio to climb down the rope from Claude’s dorm room window. “If it makes you feel better,” Claude called up to her, “your ass looks great in that skirt.”

Hilda looked down and stuck her tongue out at him. “Respectfully, fuck you,” she said. Claude laughed. The girl may be lazy, but she had some spunk to her.

Beside him, Leonie tapped her foot restlessly, arms crossed over her chest to cover the low cut shirt that Hilda forced her to wear for the night. “I’m going to freeze in this,” she muttered for at least the third time.

“You’ll be fine. It’s a warm night, and dancing will certainly heat you up. If you really get that cold, you can borrow my cloak.”

Leonie huffed at him, but did not complain anymore. Claude watched as Hilda struggled the last few feet of the journey until he could help her the rest of the way down. “I hope you have a better way of getting back up there,” Hilda said as she readjusted her skirt.

“I do. It’s called, ‘if you’re too drunk to climb back up, then you’re free to ask everyone else how they intend to sneak back in and hope you can copy one of their ideas’.”

“Such a gentleman. Remind me, why does everyone think you’re such a great schemer again?”

“It’s not about the plan,” Claude said, looping his arms around Leonie’s on the right and Hilda’s on the left. “It’s about knowing when to take credit, and when to keep silent.”

“Ah, so that’s you secret,” Leonie said with a laugh.

“Just promise you won’t tell,” Claude teased. He winked at her and she rolled her eyes with a smile on her lips. “Come on, girls. We don’t want to miss the first dance.” I hope that Sylvain and Felix are already there.

The three rushed into town as they heard music beginning to play. The town square was well lit despite the late hour, and young men and women were packed in, looking for dance partners. Hilda let go of Claude’s arm nearly the second they reached the square, as a handsome young man with blond tousled hair asked her for a dance. Leonie shrunk into Claude, a slight frown on her face. “Care to dance, fair lady?” Claude asked her with a grin. Leonie looked up at him, her eyes wide. “What’s with that look? I told you I was bringing you out for a good time.”

“I just assumed you were being polite.”

“Polite? Does that sound like me at all to you?”

“Not at first glance,” Leonie laughed. “Though I don’t think you’re as bad as you want people to think you are.”

Claude laughed, surprised at how insightful Leonie’s comment was. “In truth, I’ve been looking for ways to get to know all of our classmates better,” Claude admitted. “And I figured you would appreciate a good ol’ folksie dance night.”

“Is that what you think of me?” Leonie laughed. “That I’m a backwoods hill-billy, or something?”

“I think you’ve got more moves than you let on, that’s all I’m saying,” Claude replied with a wink. “Come on.”

He led Leonie onto the open pavement where other young couples were swinging each other around to the beat of the music, played by a pair of fiddlers and a piper standing on top of a makeshift stage. Claude danced with Leonie in circles, letting her correct his steps when he did not move in the right direction at a change in the songs. It was not the same music Claude was used to dancing to back home, but Leonie knew the first three songs at the first note. Apparently they danced to the same songs in her hometown. When the fourth song started playing, though, she halted, tilting her head to one side. “Huh,” she panted. “I’ve never heard this song before.”

“That’s because it’s a song from the Empire, not the Alliance,” Edelgard’s voice said. Claude and Leonie both looked towards her as she approached, her vampire-looking servant Hubert half a step behind her. “The town here tries to play music from all over Fódlan so everyone recognizes at least some of the dances. Apologies, by the way. I would have come over to say hi earlier, but the two of you looked to be having a good time. I did not want to spoil it.” Edelgard looked from Claude to Leonie. “I do not think you and I have properly met yet. You are Leonie, correct?”

“I am,” Leonie replied, a hint of caution in her tone. “And you’re Princess Edelgard.”

“Just ‘Edelgard’ is fine.” Edelgard smiled pleasantly at her. “I have seen you training with Captain Jeralt. You have incredible technique with a lance, and I also understand that you are an expert hunter.” Hubert looked to Claude as if questioning why his precious princess was wasting her time with such idle chatter. Claude shrugged, having no answer himself. Beside him, Leonie blushed and laughed nervously.

“Please, I just do what I need to survive.”

“Don’t be so humble. You have a talent that others envy, embrace it,” Edelgard said. She turned back towards Claude, handing him the drink in her hand. “Hubert and I were going to dance for a song or two, but we have a table saved in the corner over there. You two look like you could use a break. Sit down, drink, relax! We’ll join you later.” Her eyes were icy with intent. Claude looked to where she had gestured and noticed who her table companions were. He smiled at her.

“Sounds like a plan. Enjoy your dance!” he beamed. He took Leonie’s hand and led her through the crowd of people toward the corner table, not taking his eyes off of Sylvain and Felix.

“So,” Leonie began when they were out of earshot. “Edelgard knows who I am.”

“Yeah, it appears that way,” Claude responded absently.

“I think she just wanted to impress you,” Leonie said. Claude looked at her with a furrowed brow. Seriously, what was with all of these girls thinking there was something going on between him and Edelgard after one civil discussion? He did not understand romance in Fódlan.

“Nah, we’re just trying to be more pleasant with each other after the mock battle,” Claude told her. Not necessarily the truth, but not wholly a lie, either.

“Right,” Leonie replied curtly. They were nearly at the table. Sylvain and Felix both had mugs in their hands. By the way Sylvain was swaying, Claude was certain he was drunk. Even Felix looked like he was barely holding himself together, much to Claude’s surprise. Beside them was a girl with blonde hair pulled back in a loose braid. Claude had seen her hanging around with the two and them and Dimitri before, but he could not quite place her name. Irma? Edith? He was sure it would come to him.

“Your majesty!” Sylvain slurred. “Come to join us for a drink?”

“From the looks of things, I have a lot of work to do to catch up. And don’t call me that. I’m not a prince of Fódlan.”

“Apologies for the morons,” the blonde girl said. “Don’t let their current appearance fool you. They’re both lightweights. Finish the drink in your hand and you’ll be caught up enough. Oh! Hi, Leonie.” She smiled suddenly. “I didn’t take you as the kind of girl to hang out with the riffraff.”

“Ouch!” Claude protested.

“Claude just dragged me along. This isn’t normally my scene.” Leonie explained, ignoring him.

“Mine, either,” the blonde girl replied, looking pointedly at Sylvain, “but someone has to be the babysitter. What do you say we leave the children at the table and grab a drink ourselves?”

“Sure,” Leonie replied. She unlaced her arm from Claude’s and patted him on the cheek. “Thank you for the dance. I’ll be back soon.” The blonde girl stood up, and the two left together. Sylvain looked like he wanted to join them, but standing did not seem like an option. Without any other options, Claude sat down.

“I’ve seen her around before, but I don’t think I’ve ever met—umm—“

Sylvain perked up, as if suddenly realizing Claude was there. “Who, Ingrid?”

Claude snapped his fingers. “That’s it, yeah.”

“What about her?” Felix asked almost lazily, taking another drink from his cup.

“She grew up with you guys, right?” Claude asked. He took a drink as well, figuring the conversation would not go his way if he did not appear casual enough. The last thing he wanted was for it to get back to Dimitri that he was interrogating his childhood friends for potential dirt on him. “The two of you, Ingrid. . . And Dimitri, right?”

Felix scoffed. “Yeah, the five of us were inseparable as children.”

“But there’s only four of you,” Claude corrected.

“That’s right,” Felix muttered. “Only four now. . .”

Sylvain glared at Claude and gestured for him not to broach the subject any further. It piqued Claude’s curiosity, but that was not why he was there. He took another drink.

“It’s amazing that you guys have stayed so close over the years,” Claude began again. “I don’t think I have any close friends from my childhood the way you guys do.”

Sylvain laughed, and his head swayed back and forth. He was definitely drunk. “It’s prob’ly more accurate t’say we’re still stuck with each other. Right, Felix?”

“Shut up,” Felix replied.

“Exactly!”

Claude laughed. If anything, the two seemed more like bickering brothers than friends. But perhaps that was why their friendship lasted so many years.

A serving girl came by with a new round of drinks. Felix offered to pay, and Claude thanked him. He was near the bottom of his cup, anyway. Claude smiled at the girl as he took the new cup from her. Another drink.

“Who was tha’ girl with you, Claude? Was that Leonie?”

“Hmm? Oh, umm yeah. It was.”

Sylvain leaned over the table as if to look for her, though by then she was long lost in the crowd.

“She’s a babe when she s’not in a school uniform,” Sylvain said. “Who knew she had tits hiding under there?” Claude grunted in reply while Felix rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long night if Claude could not get Sylvain’s mind off of girls. “Come t’think of it. . .” Sylvain added. He pointed a limp hand at Claude. “Your professor’s hot, too. Why’d we get the old guy? S’not fair. . . Even Manuela woulda been nice to look at—“

“Sylvain, shut up,” Felix said. He elbowed Sylvain in the ribs, which only seemed to piss him off.

“No, you shuddup! I have a question for Claude-y boy, here.” He leaned over the table, looking Claude in the eye with a surprising amount of sobriety for one who reeked so strongly of booze. “Rumor ‘round the church s’that Byleth had first pick o’ the houses. And she pick’d the Golden Deer for. . . What, you? What makes you so fuckin’ special, pretty boy?”

“It must be my charming demeanor,” Claude replied with a forced smile. This time he took a long, long drink.

Sylvain laughed loudly, slamming his fists on the table and causing Felix’s drink to spill in his lap. “Son of a—“ he muttered.

“That is true,” Sylvain continued, unaware of his friend’s irritation towards him. “You may be a sneaky bastard, but you have more pers’nality than Edelgard and Dimitri put together.”

“This conversation is getting ridiculous,” Felix muttered. He stood up, swaying slightly “I’m going to find something to dry my pants. Claude, do me a favor and watch the idiot, will you? Ingrid will probably be back soon.”

“Sure thing,” Claude said as Sylvain muttered “Asshole.” The table was silent for a moment after Felix left. Claude’s head was starting to rush. He had not drank alcohol in months, not since moving to Fódlan. And even then, he was never known for having the strongest tolerance. “So. . . I’m surprised that Dimitri is not with you guys tonight.” Sylvain cocked his head to one side.

“Dimitri s’not here,” he said. “Went back to Faergus for a couple o’days.”

“Why?”

Sylvain shrugged. “He didn’t say. To visit his uncle, maybe?” He tipped his mug over and frowned as it was empty. “Why d’you ask?”

“Just curious,” Claude mumbled half-heartedly. He was reaching the bottom of his cup, as well.

“Dimitri prob’ly wouldn’t come anyway. He would say it was ‘dishonest t’sneak out here and betray the—the trust of our instructors,’ or some shit like that.” He was still shaking his mug, as if it would magically make more alcohol appear. Claude fought the urge to groan aloud. Whatever Edelgard wanted him to hear from Felix and Sylvain, he was not going to get it out of them that night. Sylvain was too drunk and Felix was too, well, Felix. He looked over his shoulder towards the people dancing, but he could not spot her. Was she actually going to come back, or did she say that to manipulate him into sitting with the two boys when she knew they were inebriated?

The whole thing was frustrating. Claude did not know why he was even out that night. Someone had threatened his life no more than three days earlier, and here he was, drinking, out in public. Like a fucking idiot. All because a prissy, high-and-mighty future emperor had told him to. What a fool he was. Perhaps it was Edelgard who should be referred to as the schemer instead of him.

Claude caught a glimpse of pink hair on the outskirts of the dancers. Hilda was walking around by herself, peering at each person as she passed. Shit, Claude thought. It had been nearly an hour since he had seen her, and she was probably looking for him and Leonie. He waved his hand in the air to catch her attention. A mixture of relief and annoyance swept over her face when she saw him. “Good grief!” She exclaimed. “What kind of guy walks into a party with two hot girls on his arms, then no less than an hour later is found drinking with a loser in a corner? No offense, Sylvain. You look nice in that shirt, by the way.”

“Thank you. Is’sat a new necklace?”

“It is, I’m glad you noticed.”

Claude was sure he was delusional at that point. “I’m sorry,” Claude said to Hilda. “Edelgard was supposed to—“

“Edelgard left, hon,” Hilda said, cutting him off.

“Of course she did!” Claude huffed.

“So. . .you were supposed to meet her here tonight?” A mischievous grin crept over her face.

“No way!” Sylvain laughed. “You and Edelgard are hookin’ up? Well I s’pose they do say opposites attract. . .”

“We are not hooking up!” Claude ran his hand through his hair. This was going to get out of hand. “I was hoping to have a little peace between me, her and Dimitri to simmer down any house rivalry after last month. No more, no less.”

Sylvain put up a hand to his mouth as if to whisper to Hilda. “Does he es’pect us to believe this bullshit?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Heyyyyyyy,” a voice interjected. Ingrid and Leonie approached with Felix in tow. He was carrying two cups in his hands. Leonie’s cheeks were flushed, and her arm was linked with Ingrid’s. “No angry words from you, sir. You were the one who dragged us out here to have fun, right?”

Felix set one of the cups down in front of Claude. “Thank you for your service,” he said, inclining his head towards Sylvain. Claude wondered if the guy had a sense of humor after all.

“Leonie, have you been drinking?” Hilda asked.

“Ingrid introduced me to what’s know as a ‘shot.’ It’s like liquid fire, down down down your throat! Then you feel allll warm and loose,” Leonie giggled, shimmying her shoulders ever so slightly.

Ingrid giggled in return, leaning on Leonie’s shoulder. She was looking straight at Claude. “It’s a good way to stay warm in the mountains,” she explained. “The alcohol is stronger than in a beer, though, so you have to pace yourself.”

“I know what a shot is,” Claude told her. Though he doubted the ingredients were identical, hard alcohol was common in his homeland.

“Well, I didn’t know until tonight,” Leonie said. She chuckled to herself. “I had three before Ingrid told me I wasn’t supposed to have that many so fast.”

“Goddess, girl!” Hilda said, guiding Leonie to a seat. “Felix, could you be a dear and get her some water?” Felix nodded blankly and walked away. “I do not want to be having to take care of you if you get plastered.”

“Ah, don’t worry about me,” Leonie said with a wave of her hand. “I’ll be fine, I just need to sit for a while.”

“You can sit on daddy’s lap,” Sylvain offered, slapping his thighs.

“No,” Ingrid asserted.

“Why? Jealous?” Sylvain asked.

“Please. I’ve seen what you will put your dick in. I don’t want your diseases.”

“Diseases?” Leonie asked. Ingrid’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie. Just keep away from the pig with the red hair.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

“When’d this become Pick on Sylvain Night? I just wanted t’come and have a dance or two, maybe meet a nice girl—”

“Let’s go dance then, Sylvain,” Hilda offered. “Come on, you should know this song.”

“Thank you,” Ingrid mouthed to her. Claude wondered if there was some secret code that all women knew across all nations on how to handle guys like Sylvain. Hell, he thought with a chuckle, they probably have a code for how to handle guys like me, too.

“Y’know what,” Sylvain said, stretching his arms above his head. The motion made him sway. “I would love that.”

Hilda took his hand and led him around the table so he wouldn’t fall on his face. Before leaving, she leaned over to Claude and whispered. “You and I are going to have a long talk tomorrow.”

Claude finished his third drink, listening absently to Leonie and Ingrid as they discussed lance techniques and how they wanted to spar with each other later in the week for practice. Claude tried not to pout, but that was exactly what he was doing. Ever since that note was slipped under his door, he felt like he was spiraling. Who in this part of the continent would want him killed, and why? Did it have to do with his past? The fact that he was the future leader of the Alliance? As much as he tried to be the easy-going guy everyone thought he was, the threat of being assassinated was occupying too many of his thoughts. It was going to get him killed.

Like it got Marianne killed.

That was another thing. Why the hell did his brain seem to think that Marianne died on the battlefield? Marianne was alive. Marianne was safe. So why did he have this memory—phantom though it was—of her dying in his arms? Of him failing to protect her?

To top it all off, there was Byleth. Strong, terrifying, stoic Byleth, who chose to teach his house for reasons that Claude could not comprehend. Who equally frustrated him and amazed him. Who betrayed him by not telling him the truth about the bandits that he had killed two nights ago.

What was he going to do about her?

“You look like you could use a shot yourself, my friend,” Ingrid said. Claude looked up at her. They had never spoken before that night, but he could have sworn that she was reading every thought in his head like an open book. Ingrid patted Leonie on the shoulder. “Stay here, okay? Felix is on his way with water for you.”

Leonie smiled and waved them off, mumbling something that Claude did not quite catch. Ingrid took Claude’s hand and led him along the buildings towards a nearby tavern. They passed Felix along the way, who gave Claude a threatening look, then kept moving.

“What was that about?” Claude asked.

“Probably me,” Ingrid admitted. “Felix can be a little. . . protective.”

“Are you guys—you know, together?” Claude asked.

Ingrid laughed, but her eyes looked sad. “No,” she said. “Nothing like that.”

“Then why—“

“I was engaged to his brother. He died,” Ingrid said quickly, not looking Claude in the eye. “You might as well know. It will get around the school sooner or later.”

“Gods,” Claude said. “I’m sorry.”

Ingrid shook her head. Thin strands of her blonde hair came loose from her braid and fell along her face. “You didn’t know.” She walked up to the bar counter and ordered the drinks for him and herself, coins to pay already in the tavern owner’s hand. Without question, he pulled out two small glasses and poured a clear liquid into them. Ingrid handed one of the glasses to Claude and raised her own. “What shall we drink to?”

“To your fiancé?” Claude offered. Ingrid considered it for a moment, then nodded her head.

“To Glenn,” she said, clinking her glass against his. They both swallowed the contents of their glasses. Claude’s throat felt like fire and the fumes from the alcohol filled his nostrils. Yet he was surprised to find that it went down smoother than he expected. No, this was not the same stuff he would drink back home at all.

“May I ask what happened?” Claude asked. “Feel free to tell me no. I have a curious mind, but I won’t prod if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t mind,” Ingrid said, despite crossing her arms across her chest. “Have you ever heard of the Tragedy of Duscur?”

“It was when some rebels from Duscur killed the king of Faergus four years ago, right?” Claude asked.

“That is true, but a select group of other nobility were also targeted for assassination. One of them was Glenn. . . He and his men were slaughtered.” Ingrid shook her head. “It feels so long ago sometimes, but I still remember his smile clearly. And his laugh. He was a good man, down to the core. I don’t know if I will ever fully move on from losing him. Nor will Felix, or Dimitri for that matter.”

“Dimitri?” Claude asked. “Was he close to Glenn?”

“I—he. . .” Ingrid sighed, holding herself tighter. “Prince Dimitri was there when Glenn was attacked. In fact, he was the only survivor.” She spoke the last few words in whispers. “I think that makes him feel guilty,” she confessed.

“I had no idea,” Claude breathed. The rushing in his head was stronger now than it had been earlier. His face felt warm. “Let’s go back outside. I need some air.” Ingrid nodded and led him out the door. The music was still playing, but the songs were slower, softer now. More romantic than lively, Claude thought. “What makes you think Dimitri feels guilty?”

Ingrid shrugged. She was watching the couples hold each other close as they swayed to the music. “He hasn’t been the same since the incident,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, Prince Dimitri is a great guy. One of the most sincere people I know.” She looked Claude in the eyes. “But when you’ve known someone for as long as I have know him, you can spot the changes. His eyes look more strained. He looks around corners and behind bushes when he walks past them. He takes his training more seriously, he jabs harder and faster. His sparring partners leave with more bruises and scrapes than before.” Her eyes widened suddenly, as if she realized what she was saying. “I’m sorry. I think I’ve had a little too much to drink.”

“I think I have too,” Claude confessed. In truth, he was struggling to keep himself upright. Ingrid was giving him the exact information that he expected to obtain from Felix and Sylvain, but none of it would stick in his memory if anyone put another drink in his hands. “Do you want to head back to the monastery?”

“I shouldn’t leave Sylvain and Felix alone,” Ingrid sighed, looking in the direction of their table. “Those two boys can get into quite a bit of trouble if nobody is watching them. Especially when they’re drunk.”

“True, and I have Hilda and Leonie with me, as well. . .” Ingrid looked up at him and smiled.

“I can take care of them if you want. You look like you could use some rest.”

“Thank you,” Claude said. He hesitated. “Only—“

“What?”

“I don’t know how to sneak back in,” Claude confessed. “I sort of climbed down a rope, and I don’t think I could get back up again without snapping my neck.” Oh, the irony, he thought, grateful that Hilda wasn’t nearby to call him a hypocrite.

Ingrid laughed, covering her hand with her mouth. “Claude von Riegan, grand schemer, too drunk to get into church.”

“I have a way back in,” Claude protested. “It just involves putting myself in too much danger under the circumstances.” His argument only made Ingrid laugh harder. She pulled out her purse and handed him a couple of coins.

“A word for the wise,” she said with a wink. “The Gatekeeper is a bit of a pushover. He won’t get you in trouble if you stop and chat with him for a while.”

“What are the coins for, then?”

“In case anyone else is standing guard with him. Having a bribe handy usually helps.”

“I didn’t take you for the sneaky sort,” Claude said with a grin.

“Hanging out with Sylvain has taught me a thing or two,” Ingrid said.

“Regardless, I owe you one,” Claude said. He winked at her before swaying off towards the end of town. He cut through the dancing couples, which Claude realized was a mistake, as he ended up bumping into one or two people on his way out. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. He felt lightheaded, and his feet did not want to cooperate with him. Must be because the path isn’t well lit, he told himself, but he was hardly convinced. His limbs moved more like jelly with every step. He kept his head down, focusing on getting one foot in front of the other. Looking up made his vision blur, anyway.

“Greetings, Claude!” The Gatekeeper called as Claude reached Garreg Mach’s entryway. “Aren’t you out past curfew?”

“I am,” Claude confessed, forcing himself as upright as he could manage.

“And. . . Have you been drinking?” The Gatekeeper asked, a bit of the usual pep out of his tone.

“I have,” Claude confessed again. He wondered why he did not seem to care to hide anything. The Gatekeeper was such a nice guy. Always in a good mood. Claude decided he liked the Gatekeeper.

“You know that’s against school rules, even if you are old enough to drink.” Old enough? What was considered ‘old enough’ to drink in Fódlan, again? 16? 18? 21? It hardly mattered to Claude in that moment.

“I do know,” Claude told the Gatekeeper, his words starting to slur. “But I went anyway. And do you know why, Mister Gatekeeper? Because of the false promises of a woman.”

“Oh, I’ve been there before, sir,” the Gatekeeper said sympathetically. “It’s best not to take it too personal. I’m sure things will be better between you and her tomorrow.”

“You really think so?” Claude asked.

“Absolutely, sir.”

“Well, I don’t. But I appreciate your optimism. You’re a good guy, you are.”

“I do my best, sir!” The Gatekeeper beamed. Claude squinted at him. It was hard to see the man’s face in the dark. Especially with the wall behind him tilting in such an annoying manner.

“Are you going to tell on me to the professor?” Claude asked.

The Gatekeeper shifted from foot to foot. “Oh, I suppose not,” he finally said. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time. No doubt your hangover will be a good enough punishment in the morning, anyway.”

“Thank you,” Claude slurred. “You’re a good guy. No! A great guy. You really are. Have a good night, Mister Gatekeeper.”

“You as well, Claude!” The Gatekeeper saluted Claude as he passed. Claude hardly noticed. He was just grateful there was nobody else as at the entryway to scold him. The Gatekeeper was such a nice guy. Claude decided he was going to learn his name in the morning. He stumbled to the left, past the fishing pond and the cafeteria, towards the stairs that led up to his room. It took much more effort to climb them than usual. By the end, Claude practically felt like he was crawling.

The wooden boards creaked with every step he took down the hall. When he approached his door, Claude heard the rustling of papers in the wind. Dammit, he thought. I forgot that the window was open. Hoping none of his books or homework had flown out of the room, he opened the door.

A figure clad in black stood above his bed, a decadent knife in their hands. Their face was covered by a mask, so Claude could only see their light-colored eyes when they turned towards him. Claude froze in the doorway. He was unarmed, he realized. The masked figure lunged at him. Claude ducked out of the way, falling to the ground. He scrambled towards his bed, reaching for the place where he kept a knife hidden. The figure stepped on his arm, pinning it in place. Claude grunted in pain. The figure’s knife came down on him again. He caught the blade with his hand, wincing from the sting as his flesh tore open, and kicked the masked figure in the shin. They stumbled backwards, giving Claude the chance to grab his knife and rise to face them.

“Do us all a favor and die!” The figure shouted, lunging at him once more. Claude deflected the blade, then jabbed his hand holding the knife upward into the assailant’s ribs. The figure grunted, and stumbled backwards towards the window. Claude shoved them, and they fell out of the opening. Claude’s stomach lurched as he heard the thud of their body hitting the ground below. He leaned on his bed frame to steady himself, but he puked regardless. The night was silent. Either no one heard the encounter Claude just had with the assassin, or they were too afraid to leave their rooms. Not that Claude would blame anyone for that. He wished he had not entered his room. He should have stayed in the village with Leonie and Hilda. He should have danced the night away and dealt with the consequences in the morning.

A gust of wind blew more of Claude’s papers off of his desk. Claude jumped from the movement, afraid that someone else would come through the window for him. That was when he saw it: a second note, as carefully folded as the one in his pocket. Only this one was folded to hold the form of a wyvern. With his good hand, Claude shakily picked the note up. It took considerable effort to open it, in part due to the skill in which it was folded and in part due to his inability to use his left hand, which he clutched to his chest to keep from dripping blood onto the floor. When the note was at last opened, Claude read its contents with hardly a breath.

Death has come for the traitor.

The note was not meant for him, he realized. It was meant for whoever found his body later that night, or the next morning. If Claude had not gone to the party, had he been asleep in his bed. . .

The thought made his stomach turn again. He coughed and gagged, but nothing came up. Tears ran down his face. Tears of frustration. Tears of fear. Tears of anger.

Something in Claude forced him to stand. He stumbled back to the stairs, down and to the left, stalking in a not-so-straight line past the lower-level dorms, seeking the person who slept at the end. Light could be seen from the cracks in her door. She was still awake. Claude leaned against the wall and pounded on the wooden frame.

Byleth opened the door.

“Claude?” she asked. “What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Heya, Teach. May I come in?” Claude asked roughly.

“I think it would be highly inappropriate—“

“Good,” Claude said, cutting her off. He pushed past her and closed the door behind him. Byleth opened her mouth to protest until she saw him in the light.

“Oh, my goddess!” she gasped. “What happened?! I must get Manuela—“

Claude stepped between her and the door. “No. Nobody else must know,” he asserted. “I don’t. . . I don’t trust anyone else.”

“Okay,” Byleth replied cautiously.

Claude extended his wounded hand towards her. His arm was beginning to stiffen. Frankly, he was surprised that he could still stand. “Will you help me with this? I’ll tell you everything that happened after.”

Byleth nodded. She retrieved bandages and a salve from her desk and tended to the wound wordlessly. Claude watched her work, finding that the silence gave him the opportunity to lower his heart rate and collect his thoughts. He wanted to still be angry with her, but in this moment, all he felt was gratitude.

“Are there any other injuries?” Byleth finally said, fastening the bandage to his palm.

“My arm might be bruised from being stepped on, but otherwise no,” Claude told her.

“Are you sure? Your shirt is covered in blood.”

“It’s just from my hand.”

“Will you let me look anyway? Please, just to ease my worry.”

Claude nodded numbly. He raised his arms to let Byleth lift his shirt. His heart began pounding again as she pressed against his abdomen, his ribs, checking for any injuries that Claude already knew were not there. The fight had not lasted long enough for that. . . Byleth’s fingers lingered on his skin, just for a moment, then she lowered his shirt again. She had a pensive look on her face. When she finally looked up at him again, she said, “You reek of booze.”

“I know,” Claude said.

“Did you sneak out to go to that dance in town?”

Claude did not realize that she would be aware of the town’s festival at all. “I did,” he admitted.

“Is that how this happened? Claude, I swear, if you got into a drunken brawl with someone—“

“I didn’t,” Claude cut her off. Byleth looked at him with an intensity in her eyes that he had only seen once before. Claude was not sure if it was the adrenaline or the alcohol, but he was sure that she was ready to fight him as well. She did not speak, only waited for his reply. “I overheard your conversation with Rhea,” Claude told her. He cursed himself silently. That was not what he had intended to say, but the thought appeared in his head, and. . . Out his mouth it came.

“Yes, Seteth notified me of that,” Byleth replied, her tone hard and icy.

“And you can punish me all you want for that,” Claude told her. “But I think you and I need to do some leveling here.” Byleth’s brow lowered, though in confusion or anger, Claude could not tell. “You told me the other day that you picked me—I mean, the Golden Deer, because you did not think I could lie to you, correct?”

“Among other reasons, yes.” Reasons you are no doubt regretting now, Claude thought.

“Then I don’t think it’s fair that you chose to lie to me.”

“Claude, I never—“

“Yes you fucking did!” Claude’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry. I just. . .” Claude sighed. With no other choice apparent, given how his mouth was failing him, he pulled out the note in his pocket. He had not let it leave his person since he first found it. But now, he handed it to Byleth. “You should have told me about the bandits,” he said. Byleth carefully took the note from his hand. “You should have told me that they were the same ones who tried to kill me the night we met.”

“Claude,” Byleth whispered, her hands visibly shaking. “This is a death threat.”

“It is,” Claude said, surprised by how calm he suddenly sounded, speaking of his own death. He handed Byleth the other note as well. “This was in my room tonight. It was supposed to be found after— After. . .” He took a deep breath. His stomach was threatening to heave again. “After I was found murdered in my sleep. Which is likely what would have happened had I not snuck out tonight.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I found the killer in my room.” The words hung in the air between them. Byleth did not ask where the killer was now. Being raised as a mercenary, odds were that she already knew the answer.

“And you think this assassination attempt is connected to the bandit attack?” Byleth asked, her eyes glancing over the second note.

“It could be,” Claude said. He placed his hands over his face. “I received the first note just before we left on the mission. If whoever was trying to kill me had been a member of the church, they could have given our house the mission hoping that the bandits could finish the job.”

“You think someone in the church is trying to kill you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know!” Claude said. “That’s my point! Who here would try to have me killed?!”

“And label you a traitor,” Byleth added. Claude fell silent. That. . . He had a few suspicions of why he could be seen as a traitor. Some of them for completely opposite reasons from each other. But. . . No. He was not ready to tell anyone about that. Even Byleth.

“Probably just a ploy to distract people after my death,” he said weakly. He frowned, feeling tears well up in his eyes again. “Nothing has made sense this week. I have had my life threatened, for reasons I do not know. Then there was that whole thing at the Red Canyon, with Marianne—“

“Marianne?” Byleth asked.

Claude stopped himself short. “It’s nothing, Teach,” he said.

“Claude, if it has something to do with this attack, maybe I can help you.”

“It doesn’t,” Claude told her. He stubbornly wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “At least, I don’t think it does.” Byleth sat next to him on the bed and pat his shoulder. Claude sighed. “I have this. . . Memory that isn’t real. That the last bandit who attacked us managed to kill Marianne before I could kill him.” He looked at Byleth, whose eyes were filled with concern. “I see her alive and well, and I feel guilty regardless. I remember her lifeless body in my arms, I remember looking into her eyes and seeing nothing there. I know it isn’t real, but—“

“It is real,” Byleth said.

Claude looked at her. His heart pounded in his chest and his shoulders shook. Byleth avoided looking at him, keeping her eyes on her hands that now rested in her lap. “What do you mean, Teach?” He could barely utter the words. “This isn’t funny.”

Byleth took a deep, ragged breath, then sighed just as shakily. She turned her body towards him, but still did not look him in the eye. “I told you to hurry towards me,” she whispered. “I was relieved to see you safe, both of you. When you were first separated from the rest of us, I had feared the worst. So I was eager to get you by my side again. Where I could keep you safe. . . You did not see the bandit, and neither did I. He leapt down just after you passed his hiding place in the rocks. . . You may have been too late to save Marianne, but so was I.”

Claude was shaking violently. He could hardly wrap his brain around the words his teacher was saying. “Marianne. . . Did die?”

Byleth nodded numbly. She clenched and unclenched her fists in her lap. “I could not live with that guilt. I figured you could not either.”

“So you—what? Magically undid it all? Turned back time?” Claude asked sarcastically. He was laughing, more due to hysteria than finding humor in the situation.

“That’s exactly what I did,” Byleth admitted. Claude pulled away from her.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am, though,” Byleth said. At last, she looked him in the eyes. Claude saw fear and confusion swirling together. But there was no hint of deception. “The night we met—“ She paused to steady her breath. “I should have died saving Edelgard. I blocked her from a blow while exposing my own back, as a bandit came down on us with an axe. Just before it connected with my spine, I felt time. . . Slow. Then stop. I suddenly found myself in darkness, standing face to face with a girl dressed in clothes from another age—I do not know who she was. Who she is.” Byleth seemed suddenly agitated at having to make the correction. Her whole body was tense, as if she was struggling with herself. Claude found himself subconsciously reaching for his knife. “She offered me. . . Her. . . Assistance. A gift. The ability to turn back time. I don’t understand this gift, how it works or why she offered it to me, but I used it that night to save myself, and I used it again the on our first mission in order to save Marianne.” Byleth rose suddenly. She started pacing back and forth, her fists still clenching over and over again. Claude gripped the knife tighter. His teacher was usually so calm and collected. Claude was not so sure he liked this side of her. “No one is supposed to have any memories of what happened before,” she muttered to herself, gripping her hair. “It’s supposed to be a slate wiped clean. . .” She stopped pacing, turning suddenly towards Claude.

“What are you getting at, Teach?” He asked cautiously. The door was still closed, but he was between it and her. And he had height and speed on his side. . .

“I’m sorry,” she confessed. “But I’m not ready for you to know all of this, yet. I hardly have enough answers for myself, and I cannot have this information getting out to anyone. Not the other students, not my father, not Rhea. . .”

Fear gripped Claude as Byleth slowly walked towards him, hands raised slightly. He leapt for the door, but Byleth got there first, blocking his way. She swiped the knife from his hands and threw it out of his reach. Clutching his face in her hands, she stilled him. “I like you, Claude, and I am sorry to do this to you. I promise you that I will tell you everything one day, when I have all the answers that I need for myself. And I promise that I will help you find your killer. You can trust me, Claude. I promi—imorp I .edualC, em tsurt nac uoY .rellik ruoy dnifuoyplehlliwItaht—

#fe3h turn back the hands #fe3h claude #fe3h fanfic #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #claude von riegan #claude x byleth #claudeleth #bylaude #bylaude fanfic

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lucifers-trash-stash · 5 years ago

Text

Run From Me: Chapter Eight

Summary: There aren’t many solutions to escape becoming a member of The Mad Titan Thanos’ harem. All you can try to do is to run and pray he doesn’t find you.

Word Count: 5,515

Chapter Warnings: The beginning of plot, some degrading stuff, some sex talk

Run From Me Masterlist

I hummed softly to myself as I sat on the floor with Alice in Wonderland propped in my lap. My back was to the couch, and I reached up to the coffee table to grab another bit of cheese to nibble on. My legs stretched out under the table, feet swaying back and forth to the beat of the song in my head.

The last week had not been completely horrific, surprisingly. Yes, I had zero privacy anymore besides when I was both going to the bathroom and hiding in the bathroom from Thanos when I was going stir crazy from not being let outside, but otherwise I was doing fine. He made a point of having Maw bring me a stack of Earth books from the library to keep me occupied, which worked very easily and I appreciated. Most of the time I completely ignored Thanos as he came and went. He would try to start conversations with me, but they never lasted long as I found ways to drop the subject. Ultimately he realized it was easier to leave me alone than to start a fight.

Not to say there weren’t fights. Our main one over the past few days had been a matter of my wardrobe. He insisted that I wear the dresses he provided for me, these long flowing gowns that made it difficult to move around in. Many of them were a halter dress style with an open back. My chest was covered but I felt far more comfortable in pants and shirts. That and I refused to be his little Barbie doll for him to make up and dress as he pleased.

So he compromised. I could wear what I wanted in his room, but outside I would have to wear dresses. And considering that I hadn’t been allowed to leave his room for a week now meant I could enjoy wearing my leggings with a long sleeved shirt while I lounged around doing pretty much nothing. Besides being nagged periodically to talk to him, it wasn’t too horrible.

Except there was one thing. One teensey weensie thing. Thanos and his casual attire. It was incredibly infuriating and distracting all at once. He would only wear casual attire in his room, and I was subjected to it. Sometimes he would wear a loose fitting t-shirt that would still somehow show off his muscles. Or he would be completely shirtless, and those muscles would be completely on display. It made for incredibly conflicting emotions running through my brain. Which was why I engrossed myself into my reading as often as I could.

I was taken out of my thoughts when I heard Thanos stir at his desk and I quickly stopped humming. He passed in front of the couch and stopped, regarding me for a moment. He was wearing only a pair of high waisted training pants, baggy enough to be comfortable for normal wear. He was shirtless otherwise, his massive physique incredibly daunting.

“Why did you stop?” He asked.

I looked back at my book, ignoring him. “Because I didn’t realize you were there.”

Thanos let out a soft grunt but didn’t push the subject further. Instead, he opted to cross the space and sit down in his chair, resting his chin on his palm and tilting his head slightly as he looked down at me. After a few moments of feeling his eyes drill into the side of my skull, I shut the book with a loud thump and turned back to him. “What?”

“Rather irritable today, aren’t we?” He asked. He didn’t even move an inch, instead looking rather bored.

“Well I would have no idea why I would be irritable, of all things,” I said sarcastically. “It’s definitely not because I’m being kept prisoner in this fucking room and have been sleeping on a couch for a week straight.”

Thanos sighed. “Well, besides offering you a place in my bed, I don’t know what else I could suggest. I know you wouldn’t agree to that anyways. So what’s the point in arguing about it?”

“Because I want my own bed and my own room! Duh!” I said. “But you know, no point in arguing about it because you won’t give me either of those things.”

Thanos sat up and gave me a tired look. “Well then, perhaps I shouldn’t bother telling you that Proxima will be here to take you on a walk shortly-”

I suddenly sprang up onto my feet. “Wait what? Excuse me???”

A small smirk crept onto Thanos’ face. “You heard me. Unless you couldn’t bear to be apart from me.”

“Oh don’t fucking play that game you know you don’t have to offer a way out of here twice.” When Thanos narrowed his eyes, I scoffed. “Don’t look at me like that. You walked right into that one.”

Thanos let out a heavy sigh and then gestured with his hand. “Go get dressed. You’ll be her problem for a while.”

I grinned and turned to walk towards the closet Thanos had set up for me. The halter dresses didn’t even matter at this point. Even if it was only for an hour or so it was still an escape. “Mister I-Have-Patience-in-Spades needs to hire a babysitter huh?” I asked.

When I turned towards the bathroom to get dressed, he said, “Even I need a brief period of respite.”

I shut the door behind me with a smile. I wasn’t sure what I had done to earn such a reward, but I wasn’t going to question it. Yanking off my clothes, I stepped into the dress and adjusted the strap behind my neck. The fabric was soft and flowy against my skin. It felt so foreign from my normal clothes. I had a pair of sandals I was wearing already, so there wasn’t much to do besides walk out of the bathroom.

Thanos’ eyes gave me a once over as I exited, and I immediately felt the need to cross my arms over my chest. I couldn’t help the feeling that he was checking me out even though there was nothing to see. What I really wanted was my jacket and boots, but I promised I would dress how he wanted me to. And he was letting me out for a bit so obviously that meant that listening to him occasionally gave me special privileges.

Before I could make another comment, there was a knock on the door. Thanos stood before telling them to come inside.

Proxima walked through, wearing a more casual version of her armor, which looked more like a regular black bodysuit. She bowed her head respectfully, uttering, “My Lord,” as she did. Thanos nodded, and just as Proxima stood back up to her full height, someone else walked through the door.

Elsy. My brow furrowed in confusion as she stepped in front of Proxima and bowed to him, only she regarded him with, “Master.”

When Elsy stood up, she locked eyes with me. She gave me a big smile, and mouthed the word “Hi” as she raised her hand up a little in a half wave. She wore a purple gown that made her yellow skin pop, and she had tied her tentacle hair up in some sort of a bun that confused and intrigued me.

“You may go now,” Thanos addressed me.

I looked back at Elsy and then back at him. “Why didn’t you tell me Elsy was coming with us? You told me Proxima and I were going somewhere.”

“Elsy not going with you,” Thanos said firmly.

I stared at him. He stared at me. I looked at Elsy whose smile was slightly faltering in embarrassment. I looked at Proxima, who was currently dissociating as a way to ignore having to be a part of this conversation. I looked back at Thanos.

“Are you telling me… This walk isn’t a reward?” I asked slowly. “It’s just an excuse for you to get laid???”

Thanos glared at me as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What I do is none of your concern.”

“No it’s cool. It’s fine,” I said, waving my hand as I stomped off to the door, Proxima finally looking over at me as I approached. “No you go ahead, do your thing, you totally didn’t just insult my intelligence or anything. No that’s cool.”

I turned back towards Elsy, who gave me a pained look and whispered an apology. I spoke up again. “No Elsy, it’s no offense to you because you are a lovely ray of sunshine that hasn’t done anything wrong.” I pointed to Thanos. “But you get ALL of my offense. All of it. Fuck you. Don’t wait up. I’m going to live my best life. You know. Tied to a short leash like a dog. It’s fine.”

I stomped off while Proxima followed behind, closing the door behind her. Fuming, I grumbled curses under my breath as I picked up the pace. Before I got too far, Proxima’s hand gripped my bicep, pulling me back against her body.

“I’ll remind you that I’m the one taking you on a walk, whore,” Proxima hissed. “So you follow me, understand?”

I scoffed. “You’re still going to call me whore even after all that?” I asked. “I’m not even fucking him!”

“Perhaps if you had a name other than whore to provide, then I would refer to you by that instead.” Proxima released my arm with a harsh push and began to walk. I followed close behind.

“If this is some trick to get me to tell you my name so you can tell Thanos, then I’m not fooled,” I said.

She snorted. “As if I care about your feud with him. Other than it meaning that I have to babysit you when he grows tired with you.”

“What a terrible burden.” We walked in silence for a moment as I continued to stew. Finally, I spoke up again, “I can’t believe he kicked me out so he could have a booty call.”

Proxima stopped walking and glared back at me. “Are you done?”

“No. I never am.”

Proxima inhaled deeply and stared down at me with her red eyes. “Why my father hasn’t murdered you yet is beyond me. You’re too much work for a fuck.”

She began to walk again and I followed. “I’m just that great, I suppose.”

“No. Hardly. Only a desperate man would keep pursuing you after this long. And Thanos is hardly desperate.” She looked over her shoulder. “So far my theory is that your only purpose is as a toy for him to amuse himself. He wants to see just how long it takes to break you. Make you dependent on him. And after a few fucks he won’t care anymore and go back to his other whores or find another pretty new toy.”

I blinked. “You’re saying I’m pretty then?”

She shook her head. “You truly are exhausting.”

After a few moments of silence, I spoke up again. “Where are we going?” I didn’t recognize the area where we were headed, and I assumed this was a private area of the ship.

She suddenly stopped at a door and I had to double back and turn around to face her. Proxima opened the door and ushered me inside. I stared around the room, a large industrial space with various hubs installed on the floor. It was cold and expansive, spanning the size of perhaps a large cafeteria. There were also various levels in the room with platforms and bridges between sections that provided a bit of a drop.

I leaned over one of the edges and peered down, gulping when I realized that while a skilled fighter might be able to land the fall, I sure as shit wouldn’t. Proxima ignored my trepidation, instead gesturing for me to follow her across the bridge. She came to a stop beside a hub and I watched as she pressed down on it with her foot and a control panel rose from it.

I watched for a moment as she tapped the controls before asking, “Why the hell did you take me here anyways? Did you need a sparring partner or something?”

Proxima scoffed. “No. I certainly don’t need a partner. Especially not you.”

“Then why-”

I shrieked as the floor suddenly shot up into the air out from under me, raising me up a good ten or so feet off the ground. When it finally stopped, I continued to clutch the sides of the platform for dear life, shaking like a leaf as I watched her grin smugly up at me.

“That should keep you from running off while I train.”

“You bitch!” I screamed down at her, afraid to even sit up in case it decided to move again.

“Thank you,” she said, smirking. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go punch things and pretend that it’s you I’m punching.”

My mouth hung open as she turned back around and ignored me. Just like that. What a bitch! God, I wanted to be like her.

After touching commands on the screen some more, a couple of other hubs in the room began to rumble to life. Blue lights shot up from them and holographic creatures emerged, screeching in rage. I quickly sat up and pulled my feet up from the edge of the platform. They were nasty for holograms; Lovecraftian beasts that oozed, growled, and hissed. There were eyes, pus, tentacles, claws, teeth, and I was trying to figure out which parts of them I should be more terrified of.

Proxima, on the other hand, stared at them with a look of boredom. She tilted her head to the side, her neck cracking loudly as she did. She repeated with the other side before rolling her shoulders and letting out a deep sigh.

Then she ran at them. Bare handed.

I watched in awe as the holograms appeared solid enough for her to land a kick right in the middle of one of them. It roared in pain, staggering back a bit. The other creature tried to lunge at her, but she stepped to the side and shot her hand out to grab one of its many arms, yanking back hard as she planted her foot against its back. A sickening crack reverberated through the room, the creature howling out as his arm came off clean in her hand. When she tossed it to the side, it slowly faded out.

As I watched Proxima mindlessly hack away at these creatures with only her hands, my mind began to drift back to my own anger. Thanos got to have the time of his life balls deep in Elsy while I had to sit up on a platform with no way to get down if I didn’t want to break my legs in the process. Well, maybe not break my legs but definitely twist something.

But why did I care so much? I pondered for a moment. It certainly wasn’t jealousy. As long as I didn’t have to fuck Thanos, I was perfectly fine with the arrangement. A part of me was more hurt by the fact that I thought I was doing so well earning his trust that he finally let me out of his room. Without being under his watch, no less.

But again, why did I care about his approval? I didn’t need his praise or his rewards. I was a prisoner. I shouldn’t want my captor’s approval, and yet I did. I just felt so… insulted. I did what he asked. My fights with him were less scream filled and had turned into annoyed banter. I thought that would have pleased him.

My face scrunched in disgust. The fact that I was even upset about this infuriated me. It meant I was getting soft. I wasn’t going to let him get what he wanted. But I had to in order to escape. That was the worst part of all of this. I wasn’t sure what part of my feelings were fabricated in order to trick him and which ones were actually genuine care for what he thought of me.

“Sister,” a new voice called out, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I turned to the source of the voice. Two women now stood in the room, one green and one blue. The green woman tapped on the control panel, causing the beasts that Proxima was stomping into jelly on the floor disappear. The blue one glared at Proxima, who was currently looking annoyed at having to be brought out of her training.

“Nebula,” Proxima said, addressing the blue woman. She turned and nodded to the green woman. “Gamora. What a pleasant surprise. Did you miss us so much that you had to come visit?”

“Hardly,” Nebula shot back, a scowl on her face. When I looked closer, she had something going on around her eye that I couldn’t quite make out.

“I have some concerns from The Accuser to relay to our Father,” Gamora said.

Proxima cocked her brow. “Then why not call him?”

“It’s more complicated than that. I felt we needed to see Father in person.”

Proxima only nodded in response.

As Nebula opened her mouth to speak again, her gaze traveled up the podium I was sitting on top of. When she finally met my eyes, her mouth hung open in confusion before turning to Proxima and yelling, “Who is that!?”

“Our Father’s newest acquisition,” Proxima replied calmly. “She refuses to give a name because she detests making life easier for herself.”

“Sup,” I called down.

Nebula looked visibly enraged with me, while Gamora only looked at me with a quizzical expression on her face.

“Why is she up there?” Gamora asked.

“Because Proxima’s a bitch that’s why,” I said.

Gamora raised her eyebrow at Proxima who only shrugged in response. Gamora in a hushed tone continued, “And Father is allowing this?”

“His whores usually keep their mouths shut and their legs open,” Nebula hissed. “This one does neither.”

“The Maw brought her here as a gift,” Proxima said. “He thought a spunky little Terran slut would put up a fight for a few days and then calm down. Instead our Father is taking his sweet time breaking her and all of us suffer because of it.”

“You love me though,” I told Proxima. She glared at me but otherwise said nothing.

Nebula scoffed. “What does Father need more whores for? The Maw meddles with things he has no business meddling in.”

Proxima stepped forward, causing Nebula to flinch and stand up straighter. “That might be so. However, he is more trusted by Thanos than you, sweet sister. He has earned that privilege when you have not.” Proxima smirked. “And I am surprised that you are so confident to speak ill of Maw considering he always seems to know everything that happens even when he isn’t around.”

Nebula puffed out her chest in defiance but said nothing in retort. It was then I began to notice what was around her left eye. It was some sort of mechanical component, and I wondered if it was a cybernetic enhancement. Not too many people took to upgrading with cybernetics, but it’s a huge underground scene in the black market. It showed not only how tough you were but often gave an unfair advantage in fights. Aliens with different enhancements would fight each other to prove whose upgrades made them the most skilled, for prize money of course. I wondered if that’s why Nebula had them.

Gamora made a noise in her throat, calling everyone’s attention back to her. “This isn’t the time for petty bickering. We need to speak to Father. Where is he?”

I snorted loudly, causing them to look up at me. “Something tells me he doesn’t want to be bothered right now. Even if it is urgent.” I pondered for a second. “On second thought, please do disturb him. I hate seeing him happy.”

Nebula’s nose scrunched in disgust. Gamora’s gaze flit to the side for a moment to avoid my gaze but her face still held firm. It seemed as though their father’s proclivities for harems weren’t something they favored. Not that I blame them. I didn’t care for it either.

“There are ways to pass the time,” Proxima spoke up, shrugging slightly.

Nebula’s piercing stare found Proxima as her head whipped around. Her back straightened and she took a step towards Proxima, closing the gap. “I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“We don’t have the time for this.” Gamora crossed her arms.

“If you keep turning down opportunities to spar you won’t be Thanos’ favorite for long,” Proxima said. Nebula snorted at that.

Gamora narrowed her eyes at the two women and shook her head. “That tactic might provoke Nebula, but not me. I don’t care about your opinion of me.”

Nebula growled slightly under her breath but Proxima spoke up before Nebula could spit an insult back. “So what? You’re going off to bother our father anyway? Or go report to The Maw?” Proxima gave Gamora a knowing smirk. “You simply can’t get off your high pedestal for a moment to socialize with us?”

Gamora’s lips pressed together in a thin line. It almost looked like she might have given in if not for the shrill ring breaking the silence. Immediately I put my hands to my ears, hissing in pain at the suddenness of it. Gamora cringed slightly, while Nebula turned to the control panel. Proxima smirked and swiped her finger to the right, silencing the sound.

Another hologram flashed into view from the hub on the floor. I grimaced at the sight.

“Maw, splendid timing, as always,” Proxima said with a smile.

The transparent blue Maw tapped his fingers in front of him with a slightly irritated look on his face. “I am quite aware.” Maw’s gaze fell to Nebula as she crossed her arms over her chest. His eyes fell upon Gamora next. “Lord Thanos has been informed of your arrival and wishes for your counsel with him in his throne room.”

“Oooooooo y’all are in troubleeeeeeee,” I called down, reminding everyone that I too existed here.

“And what am I supposed to do with that one, huh?” Proxima asked, gesturing up to me. “I got stuck with babysitting duty.”

Maw looked off to the side for a moment, as if he was listening to someone we couldn’t see. He then turned back to us, his pale green eyes staring up at me as he spoke, “Lord Thanos says to bring her with you. On the condition she behaves herself.”

I looked around in fake confusion and then pointed to myself. “Who, me? I always behave myself.”

“Don’t dawdle.” Maw’s figure suddenly flicked away, and I was left back in the room with the three other women.

Without a word, Gamora turned on her heel with Nebula following close behind her. Proxima looked up at me and sighed, her fingers hovering over the control panel.

“Please don’t slam it down again,” I said, trying my best to sound pitiful. If I could get out of falling that would be great.

She stood there for a moment, fingers wavering before finally clicking the button. The panel I was sitting on moved slower this time, but it was still a bit of a rush as it sunk back into the ground. I smiled at her but she only rolled her eyes in response and walked after them.

It was a start.

------

Proxima and I entered Thanos’ massive throne room right after Gamora and Nebula. Maw, Cull, and Corvus had already arrived, watching the four of us approach. They stood in front of Thanos’ throne, placed high above them as Thanos lorded over us, as if he wasn’t tall enough already. I didn’t feel that same fear I felt seeing Thanos on his throne for the first time, but it was still an unpleasant feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I couldn’t help but smile to myself at the look of subtle irritation in Thanos’ eyes as he looked down at us. Serves him right. I mean, sucks for Elsy if they got interrupted but I felt there was some kind of justice in Thanos needing to step away to take care of some meeting.

Gamora and Nebula passed the three already standing beside the throne and knelt before him. They both called him Father as they paid their respects to him. Thanos nodded, before saying, “Welcome back, daughters.”

As Proxima held my arm, she guided me to kneel down beside Gamora. When she stepped forward with me, Thanos turned his gaze to us. “Come here.” I knew it was me he was commanding, his finger urging me closer.

Before I had the chance to look at Proxima, she let me go and pushed me towards the steps of his throne before taking her place beside Gamora. With apprehensive steps, I made my way up the stairs, feeling the eyes of everyone stabbing through my back.

When I stood in front of him, he leaned in, making sure I was focused exclusively on him. In a low voice, he asked, “Does this please you? Being trusted enough to listen to our business?”

I stared at him, confused, for a moment. Was he trying to make up for kicking me out earlier? Did he really understand the reason why I was pissed off and was letting me be here as a way of rectifying the situation? It surprised me to say the least.

“Yes, Master,” I said, not realizing how quickly the word ‘Master’ fell off my tongue anymore.

“Good,” he said, a soft grunt in his voice. “The next time you act up, I won’t be so eager to reward you. Now sit down.”

I looked around for a brief moment. “But there’s no-” He gestured to the floor beside him, and a flash of anger ran through me. “You want me to sit at your feet?” I hissed.

Thanos responded back with only a cold stare. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep from causing a scene. He will never fucking change. He will continue to push and push until he either breaks my spirit or drives me to snap.

So, with the nicest smile I could muster, I turned away from him and knelt down on the floor beside his legs. I sat down with my legs folded under me, thankful that the skirt of my dress was long and billowy enough to comfortably sit how I wanted.

The rest of them barely glanced at me. Like it was a common occurrence to see a whore at Thanos’ feet. Almost like a decoration that you barely notice in the room because you’ve been in that room many times before. Just a pretty object, a trinket, nothing more. Serving no value other than to be a display of the power Thanos had over myself and everyone else. We were all pawns for him, whether we were willing or otherwise.

It made me sick.

“Rise,” Thanos commanded as the three women now stood before him. Proxima stepped back to Corvus’ side while Gamora and Nebula remained. “Daughter, what is your report?”

Just as Nebula parted her lips as if to speak, Gamora spoke up in place of her. “Ronan believes he’s found the location of the Orb.”

If the room was quiet before, this was a step beyond that. It was as if the atmosphere in the room changed. The Black Order now all looked to Thanos, shock and a hint of excitement showing in their eyes. I felt Thanos shift beside me, leaning forward in his throne. I didn’t dare look back at him, because I knew that if I looked back I would see that same deadly expression that had been haunting me ever since I’d witnessed it.

“Then why are you two still standing here?” The question was piercing, and Nebula immediately bowed her head slightly in shame to avoid his gaze.

Gamora didn’t look as shaken up by the question, but still showed discomfort in bringing the news. “Ronan first wanted confirmation that your reward for the Orb still stands.”

Thanos inhaled sharply. The hair at the nape of my neck was standing straight up. I take it back. This was the scariest I had ever witnessed Thanos, and I couldn’t even see his face.

“I have allowed Ronan the privilege of serving me. He had the honor of assisting the training of the both of you. And I’ve allowed him to utilize the both of you in order to find the Orb.” Thanos paused for a moment. “And now you tell me that he thinks my promises are mere empty words? That he sends the two of you here to ask for verification makes me question his integrity. If he has concerns he can come to me personally and raise them. Is that understood?”

“Of course.” Gamora bowed her head. “I will call him immediately.”

“See to it that he knows of my irritation and pray he finds a way to quell it.” Thanos leans back slightly, relaxing a bit more into the throne. “You all may leave now.”

The group didn’t spend any time dawdling, and I watched as they all left me behind. I attempted to leave with them, but Thanos’ hand brushed against the back of my neck, urging me to stay behind. I couldn’t help the shiver that rose in me as his large fingers brushed gently through my hair, waiting until everyone had left in order to speak to me.

“I was not expecting such a tense discussion. You should not have been here,” Thanos said softly.

“What is so important about this Orb?” I asked, knowing full well he wouldn’t tell me.

And he didn’t, instead rubbing the tips of my hair between his fingers. “That is something you need not worry yourself about. It will be resolved soon enough.”

I sighed deeply. It was a struggle for me to attempt, but I knew this was one of the few moments I might have to lull him into trusting me more. And to do that I needed to make myself vulnerable. Make him feel like I needed him and that I couldn’t live without him. All of the things he so desperately wanted me to be, I needed to fabricate for him so he could tell me more.

“This Ronan guy wouldn’t try to attack us or anything, right?”

If Thanos noticed a change from my normal behavior, he didn’t display it. His fingers brushed under my chin and gently tilted my head up to look up at him. His expression was neutral, but I noticed a tiny smirk on his lips. “I have not known you to be the kind of woman that scares easily. Other than our introduction in this very room.”

I ignored his last comment. “Well, that was a rather intense conversation about this Ronan and this mysterious Orb so you know,” I shrugged. “Sounded like he’s a bad guy to me.”

Thanos leaned forward a bit more, and I shifted myself to where I was facing him so I wouldn’t have to crane my neck backwards anymore. Thanos’ fingers lingered along the side of my face, drifting down to outline my neck. “Let me tell you a secret about Ronan,” he said with a knowing smile. “He has had his entire world stripped from him. All he has known is the life of a Kree Accuser, and when the Accusers were disbanded after they failed to succeed in the Kree-Skrull War, he held onto that title like a child’s security blanket. He is nothing but a petulant child throwing a tantrum. And battles are not won by children.”

Thanos’ thumb gently brushed over my cheek, grazing my bottom lip in the process. These soft touches were murder on my system. I wondered if he could feel the pounding of my heartbeat through my veins when his fingers touched my throat. Fear, hatred, and a tinge of arousal all fighting inside of my mind trying to vie for power. And I was the one stuck in the middle.

“So there is no need to worry about Ronan or any other being in the Galaxy.” Thanos began to stand up, offering me his hand as he pulled me up alongside him. “Because even if someone was suicidal enough to try to storm my ship, they would never be able to reach you or any of the others before my men slaughtered them where they stood.”

I simply nodded, and allowed him to walk beside me with his hand resting against my back, urging me to follow him. I wasn’t fully certain if this conversation helped break some more of the boundaries between us, but at this point I was too desperate to not at least try.

And I couldn’t waste any more time.

#run from me #thanos #thanos x oc #thanos x ofc #thanos fanfic #thanos fanfiction #my fanfiction

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dantesunbreaker · 6 years ago

Text

Spectre & Toxin

@ruaniamh Here is my take on how Toxin and Spectre became friends. I drew a little inspiration from the doodle you made a while ago of them. Hope you enjoy it!

“It’s Toxin, right?” Spectre spots the British woman sitting with an open spot beside her on the helicopter as they all are returning from a mission. Spectre decides to eagerly plant herself right down beside her. “I’ve seen you around before, but I don’t think we’ve had the privilege to meet yet. I’m Spectre, or Quinn if we’re being casual.” Her words are punctuated with a soft giggle, smiling up at Toxin.

The sudden appearance of Spectre and her bubbling personality catches Toxin off guard, causing her jaw to nearly drop. Luckily with her gas mask still firmly in place it doesn’t read at all on her face. Only the slight widening of her crystal blue eyes shows anything to the outside world. Certainly she wasn’t expecting this when she boarded the helicopter after her mission. How could somebody still be so lively after an exhausting mission such as the one they just finished?

“Yes, my callsign is Toxin,” she looks at the lavender haired woman from the corner of her eyes, turning her head only enough to see her. “You can call me Imogen though. Lovely meeting ya,” she takes the time to offer her hand, shaking Spectre’s before turning back to face the other way.

At that, Toxin thinks it is the end of the conversation with the other woman, but oh is she so wrong about that. Spectre only seems encouraged at the response from Toxin. Moving closer, Spectre is nearly leaning against Toxin’s arm as she looks up at her.

“Oh that is such a beautifully unique name. I love it,” it seems like she begins to talk a mile a minute. “Where are you from? Where did you grow up? What made you join Rainbow Six?” Spectre keeps firing question after question, never actually giving Toxin the time to properly answer one before the next one comes. It sends Toxin’s head spinning a bit.

Only when the helicopter lands and everyone dispatches to grab their gear do the questions stop, allowing Toxin to quickly flee the scene. It doesn't appear that Spectre ever even noticed the awkwardness of the other woman. As far as she is aware, it was a very engaging conversation enjoyed by both of them. Spectre is left feeling that this is the budding of a new relationship that has the potential to be the best of friendships. Even if she is a bit more excitable and outgoing, and Toxin seems a bit more reserved Spectre is sure they will become good friends in no time.

It isn’t until a few weeks later that Spectre manages to cross paths with Toxin yet again. Both of them seem to be constantly jumping from mission to mission. When Spectre spots Toxin entering the kitchen still fully geared up as she returns to base for a long break this time, she gets a bit excited. Jumping from her seat, Spectre rushes up to the British woman. Toxin is a bit startled as she sees somebody hurtling towards her, but she quickly recognizes it as Spectre. With a sigh, she smashes down the instinct to run.

“Hey Imogen,” Spectre greets with a soft smile and giggle, lifting her finger to poke Toxin’s cheek. Since Toxin still has her gas mask on, she ends up just poking the hard plastic instead. This causes Toxin to pause once again to give the other woman a strange look. “Did you just get back from a mission?”

Taking off the mask and hooking it to one of the latches along her suit, Toxin turns towards the other woman. “Yes. Can I help ya, Quinn?” Toxin asks as she raises a rather inquisitive brow at her.

“Nope, I just wanted to come say hello,” Spectre smiles as she reaches up to poke her again, this time making contact with her actual skin. It seems she ignores the brief frown it causes. “Although I was hoping that we could maybe hang out. I would love to spend some time together.”

Frowning even further, Toxin turns to look away for a brief moment before looking back at Spectre again. ”You remind me a lot of my younger siblings. They always ask too many questions and never know when to leave somebody alone,” the tone of her voice is a bit strange. Spectre doesn’t know whether Toxin is angry, annoyed, or just upset. Either way, it brings a frown to Spectre’s usually smiling face.

“Oh… I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone then.”

Toxin’s hand is reaching to grasp Spectre’s arm just as she turns to walk away, halting her in spot. An almost pained look is on her face, and she seems a little upset with herself.

“That isn’t… That wasn’t meant to sound like a bad thing,” releasing Spectre’s arm, Toxin straightens out and scratches the back of her head awkwardly. “I’m sorry. Just I miss them a lot and you remind me so much of them. Would ya like to maybe go get lunch together? I would appreciate the company.” She gives a soft smile, and it looks genuine.

Instantly Spectre is smiling again, nodding as she reaches to take the arm that Toxin offers out to her. “Of course, I would love to have lunch with you!”

“Come on back to my quarters with me first?” Toxin asks a bit cautiously, hoping she doesn’t take it as something it isn’t. “I just need to change into something a bit more comfortable, then we can go wherever you would like.” Laughing, Spectre assures her that it is completely alright. There is no need to worry about offending her or making her think she is flirting, seeing as Spectre already knows about Toxin’s budding relationship with Smoke.

Their lunch together goes incredibly well, leaving both of them with aching guts and cheeks from all the smiling and laughing they do together. It seems that Spectre was right all along, because already they feel as if their friendship is growing so strong. But soon, a bit sooner than really expected, Spectre finds herself in a position where she feels the need to test the strength of their friendship. Her day goes horribly wrong, an unsuccessful mission that ends up being an utter failure. While it is a miracle that nobody was severely injured, it still leaves Spectre feeling down in the dumps. Normally she would go to Blitz for comfort, but all the GSG 9 operators are away on missions. Thus, Toxin is her next best option. It has only been a few weeks since their first lunch together, but Spectre feels as if she has nobody else to turn to in her time of need.

So Spectre finds herself awkwardly standing at the door to Toxin’s on-base apartment, arm half raised as she second guesses whether or not she should knock. Does she really want to appear weak in front of someone who seems so strong? Would Toxin be annoyed and think her even more childish? Spectre hopes that won’t be the case. If the roles were reversed, she would hope that Toxin would feel confident in coming to her for comfort and support. So Spectre continues to raise her fist and knocks gently on the door.

Much to the surprise of Spectre, Smoke is the one to answer the door, standing in the frame in his casual clothes. “Roach, what can…,” upon seeing the look of distress on Spectre’s face, his question cuts off and a look of concern seeps into his features.

“Is Imogen here?” the Brit is surprised by how defeated her voice sounds as she glances down at her feet. Smoke doesn’t know Spectre very well. But from what he has seen during the brief few times he has stuck around with Toxin when the two women were hanging out, he knows that she is usually very eccentric and out there. There is nothing energetic about the woman standing in front of him.

“Of course, come in,” Smoke steps aside and allows the Canadian woman to enter Toxin’s apartment. Knowing the setup, Spectre walks straight towards the couch where she spots Toxin reclining as she hears Smoke close the door.

At the noise, Toxin turns to give Smoke a questioning look, but when she spots Spectre standing there looking near miserable she frowns and jumps to her feet.

“Quinn, what’s wrong? Did somebody hurt you? I swear I’ll take care of ‘em,” Toxin is standing in front of Spectre in a matter of seconds, eyes worriedly scanning her over for any injuries as her hands go to rest on her shoulders.

Not wanting to pry on what could be a very private or emotional conversation, Smoke respectfully walks past the pair of women so that he can go sit in the bedroom. At the moment, Spectre is a little more important than whatever his plans were with Toxin.

“No, it was just a crappy mission,” Spectre sighs into Toxin’s shoulder as she is pulled in for a tight and comforting embrace. She responds in kind, looping her arms around the other woman’s waist. “Just feeling a bit like a failure, you know? Maybe if I had done things a little different we wouldn’t have lost the container.”

“No talking like that, alright?” Toxin pulls back just enough so that she can look in Spectre’s eyes, her gaze firm and intense. There is no arguing with her. “You aren’t a failure. Everyone has bad missions every now and again. Don’t worry about it.”

For a few more moments, the two women simply hold each other as Spectre tries to calm herself down. Toxin’s words have surprisingly really helped give her that little bit of a confidence boost. Nobody is ever perfect. She knows this already.

“How about we do something to take your mind off it? Do you like ice cream?” pulling away from the hug, Toxin gives a gentle smile as Spectre laughs with a swift nod of her head. “Come on, I know where Dominic keeps his stash of the good stuff. I’m sure he won’t mind. He owes me anyways.”

“Sounds great, lead away,” Spectre is almost back to her normal bubbly self as she moves to let Toxin lead them out. Just as they are about to leave the apartment, she remembers that she obviously had interrupted something though. “Oh Imogen, I’m so sorry. Did I ruin your date night?”

Chuckling, Toxin shakes her head. “It is fine, James really doesn’t mind. The rest of the boys were running extra miles on the track, and he didn’t want to join. But if you’d like, I can ask if he would like to join us for ice cream? There is always more than enough to go around.”

Spectre smiles again, giving her a nod of approval. It turns out that Bandit doesn’t actually hide his secret stash of luxury chocolate ice cream anywhere special. Instead he keeps it inside of a container that nobody would ever think to look inside. The two Brits and Spectre happily spend their night indulging themselves on the sweet chocolaty confection until Spectre’s mood improves and they are all feeling better.

“Thanks for being a good friend,” Spectre smiles as she wipes some chocolate from the corner of her mouth with her sleeve.

Toxin just chuckles as she leans against Smoke’s shoulder, who is still digging into his ice cream with vigor. “You aren’t just a friend, Quinn,” the British woman is still smiling. ”You are a sister. If you ever need anything, you can always come to me.”

#rainbow six siege #rainbow six siege fanfic #spectre #toxin #oc #r6s oc

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misssophiachase · 7 years ago

Note

Prompt: Caroline goes viral for drunkingly covering Rockstar!Klaus’ song while at karaoke with friends, Klaus sees video and just needs to get this incredibly sexy blonde who turns his alt rock song into a sultry masterpiece to sing backup for his next album.

Nonnie! This is inspired!I adore me some Rockstar!Klaus. I always imagine the Original brothers in aband like Kings of Leon, so the title is my favourite of their songs. Hope you like itas much as I enjoyed writing it!

Use Somebody

“Niklaus!” Klaus groaned,holding his pillow over his face in order to ignore her incessant whining fromdownstairs. He thought he’d revoked her house key a few months ago but she’dobviously made copies. Just because she was his sibling and his band’spublicist she thought it was her god given right to be able to burst into his house at anymoment.

“Nik, get your stubbornass down here!” Instead of his sister’s whiny voice, he could now hear hisbrother and fellow Originals bandmate instead. Just bloody great. He threw off the pillowin frustration and climbed out of bed, only stopping briefly to throw on a pair of discarded boxersand white t-shirt before lazily moving downstairs.

“Well, I’m certainly nothungry for brunch now,” Rebekah drawled pushing away the take-out coffee andmuffin from her vantage point at the kitchen bench. “Seriously,could you be wearing any less clothing, Niklaus?”

“And could you seriouslybe any more annoying, Rebekah,” he scoffed, swiping her coffee and taking along, needed sip. He was fairly certain he was still drunk from the nightbefore. “Anyway, you both deserve it for breaking into my house thisearly. What if I had company?”

“It’s 11:30am and also wouldn’tbe the first time I found you with unsavoury company,” Rebekah deadpanned. “And Ican’t believe I’m going to say this but even Kol managed to be up and dressedby now.”

“I hate to burst yourbubble but I haven’t technically been to sleep yet, Beks.”

“Well, at least I know whyyou smell so bad,” she huffed.

“We’re rock stars Rebekah,it’s what we do,” Kol insisted smugly. “Now, please tell me why yousummonsed us here and I had to leave the confines of Bambi’s warm bed?”

“Urgh,” shemuttered. “At least that explains why you smell of cheap perfume.”

“Rebekah, I’d really likeit if you could get the point sometime this century?” Klaus sighed, running hishands through his knotted locks.

“This is why I’m here,”she explained, opening her laptop and hitting play on a YouTube video.

“You got me up for someterrible, karaoke video…” Klaus trailed off, his eyes locking onto thebeautiful blonde mid-stage clad in tight, leather pants and a fitted, RollingStones t-shirt her waves cascading like liquid gold over her shoulders.

Klaus felt his breathhitch in his throat at just how stunning but refreshingly vulnerable, at thesame time, she looked. She was swaying slightly, no doubt a little inebriated, before thefamiliar opening chords filled the background and she began to sing.

“I’ve been roaming around, always looking down at all I see.Painted faces, fill the places I can’t reach…”

Singing was anunderstatement, she was an absolute angel and her voice was breathtaking, evenfrom only a few sung lyrics. He was mesmerized, barely registering his brother’suntoward commentary about her general appearance.

Her particular choice ofsong was also messing with him, especially given it was supposedly deeper and notyour usual karaoke choice. It was something he’d written at a low point in hislife mid tour. It was about being restless and desperate to find something tobelieve in and for someone to love. Something and someone he was still yet tofind. The vulnerability in her voice teamed with those expressive blue eyes wasmessing with his usually strong resolve.

As the final notes soundedout, Rebekah closed her laptop and looked at them expectantly. “Well?”

“She certainly is sexy,”Kol offered, helping himself to a blueberry muffin. “But not sure what that hasto do with us.” She rolled her blue eyes in Klaus’ direction in response.

“Did you see how many hitsthat video got?” She asked incredulously. “It’s gone viral over night,apparently seven million people want to watch someone else sing your song. Thisgirl has talent; in fact I think we should….”

“Right, let’s set up ameeting then,” Klaus suggested before she could even continue with her plan. “Whereis she?”

“Austin.”

“And her managementcompany?” Klaus asked, every fiber of his being still attempting to beprofessional even if she was across the other side of the country.

“She doesn’t have representation,” Rebekah added. “She’s a graduate college student at UT, majoring inpsychology.” Klaus was momentarily taken aback, a multitude of thoughtscluttering his head wondering if by singing that song she was psycho analyzinghim.

“Why exactly are wewasting our time on this again?” Kol complained.

“Shut up Kol,” he growled.“Given just how long you take to do anything you might want to start packingfor Austin.” He’d left the room before he could hear any further objections.

One week later…

“Remind me why I’m in thesticks again,” Kol whined. Klaus was tempted to beat his younger brother uplike when they were younger but decided to refrain given his nerves.

Klaus Mikaelson didn’t getnervous but for some reason this mystery blonde, whom he only knew as CarolineForbes, was playing with his emotions. He’d watched her video on loop for days. Kol would say he was just checking her out physically but Klaus was interested in the raw emotions she displayed as she recited his lyrics over and over again.

“And on that false note, you arebanned from this meeting,” Rebekah drawled. “Don’t want any law suits. As foryou Niklaus, tell her how much you want her in the next video.” Klaus had tostop himself from rolling his eyes, he didn’t know her but he was certain shehad no interest in playing some groupie in a video but decided not to tell his sister that just yet.

“Where are we meeting anyway?”

“Rainey Street,” she explained. “Its going to be low-key and I’d appreciate you check your arrogance at the door.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she scoffed. “We’ve known each other since birth so don’t try and play innocent, Niklaus.”

He was gone, albeit muttering choice words as he left. Klaus was nervous, something he hadn’t felt in years but stilled himself on approach.

What he wasn’t expecting was for the girl in the video to look so casual than that video but she was even more beautiful in person than he’d expected. Golden waves falling freely, pink lips, creamy complexion sans makeup and attired in jeans and a simple black Ramones t-shirt. One of his favourite bands too.

He held back, watching her intently as she studied the books laid out on the table, biting her bottom lip as she did it. Now he wasn’t quite sure what to say but let his legs do the walking.

“You’re looking very serious, love,” he murmured, kicking himself for being so obvious. She looked up regarding him curiously with those big, blue eyes but not responding immediately.

“I’m Klaus,” he offered, his confidence slipping away under her gaze. What was happening to him, Klaus had no idea.

“I’m studying, Klaus,” she replied. He couldn’t miss just how lovely his name sounded rolling off her tongue. “Hence the serious mood. Finals are in three weeks.”

“I wouldn’t really know,” he admitted, taking a seat opposite her. “I left school in eleventh grade.” It was a regret he’d carried with him for years, their surprise success as a band the only thing keeping it from gnawing away at him completely.

“Honours and degrees aren’t the be all and end all,” she said, her blue eyes capturing his across the table curiously.

“I think that’s the diplomatic answer from the almost Doctor,” he grinned, losing himself in her glance.

“Says the rockstar,” she smiled. “Apparently I was summonsed to this meeting, my best friend Kat threatened to disown me if I didn’t come. She was the one who took the video and posted without telling me first.”

“Ouch, love,” he chuckled. “Way to give a guy a complex.”

“I’d prefer that then to stroke that ego of yours, Mikaelson.”

“Who told you I have an ego?” He responded, defensively. When the media labelled him that way he didn’t care but staring across at this natural beauty who smelled like an intense combination of strawberries and vanilla for some reason made him want to be a better person.

“Your sister.” He baulked, expecting her views to come from the press not his nosy sister. “I think she’s trying to save you between you and me.”

“Is that your professional opinion, Dr Forbes?”

“I’m not a doctor yet and would prefer to keep well out of your head once I am, Mikaelson,” he could see the conflict in her eyes as she uttered it.

“Do you think I’m crazy?”

“It’s not my place to say, I barely know you,” she murmured, playing with the corner of her notebook and ignoring his gaze.

“Fine,” he conceded. “Would you consider playing back-up on our next album instead? That rendition was breathtaking and we’d love to have you, Caroline.”

“I sing for myself, so I’m going to have to respectfully decline,” she mused. “But thank you for the offer.” She began to collect her things before his hand found hers comfortingly.

“I understand, but can I ask you something?” She merely nodded by way of response. “Why did you choose that song?” She paused momentarily, Klaus searching her face.

“It spoke to me I suppose.” She admitted.

“How?” He asked, the thick desperation the last of his worries in anticipation of her response. Being a rockstar didn’t guarantee you happiness and for some reason this graduate student could see right through him and it intrigued him like nothing else.

“I’m not here to explain lyrics to the songwriter last time I checked,” she smiled cheekily. “But if you buy me a coffee I might reconsider.”

Caroline didn’t star in their next music video, she didn’t sing back-up either but turns out she stole the rockstar’s heart.

#ask #answered #use somebody #klaroline drabbles #thanks anon #great prompt #misssophiachase

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finding--cat · 6 years ago

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hi cat!

long time silent reader here, but i’m breaking my pattern to tell you a couple of things that i’ve wanted to say for a long time but never worked up the courage to.

(1) i loved your work from the minute i started the first paragraph of AB on 1dff (RIP haha). i knew there was something special about it, but more importantly YOU and your exquisite writing style then. that being said

(2) i have also been enjoying the non AP/PP work you’ve publish since then - it has been just as much of a pleasure to read and i can’t thank you enough for giving us the opportunity to do it

(3) i missed you as well as your work (mostly AB and PP and related writing) so much once you took a break. i know a lot of people who felt the same, but i completely understood why you had to leave and supported and Still do support you 100%. however, that didn’t stop me from missing fitz and harry, so i have to confess that i went to prowl the corners of the internet for other copies of it. and for that

(4) i want to apologise. i think this is more for me than for you, if i’m being honest, but i am so ashamed at how disrespectful it was of me to go look for YOUr work posted illegally without your permission just so i could fulfil selfish desires to meet YOUR characters again, when illegal reposting was part of the reason you may have left. was like a year and a half ago but i still feel bad about it sometimes, and i dont know, this is getting kind of rambly but i just want to say that i’m so sorry that people are reposting your work without your permission but i’m even more sorry that people like me encouraged that behaviour by actively reading and commenting.

(5) i was looking at a masterlist of fic recs today and awkward beat was mentioned. being the nostalgic gal i am, opened up a new tab and looked it up, hoping to find drabbles that other writers had written about harry and fitz inspired by AB so i could go back to them, just for a little bit. however, to my surprise, the first result was a link to your story, being posted on wattpad. at first i was overjoyed, thinking that maybe you had made a comeback on another platform. (IMPORTANT TO NOTE: i didn’t know you were back on tumblr yet - i found that out later from someone elses’ post on tumblr that you were back with this account). being the stupid bitch i am, my first thought was “awkward beat is back!!!!! FUck yeah!!!” and i started reading it. but i stopped about 5 words into the first sentence because, right to the left of YOUR words, was ‘Awkward Beat {h.s} by girlpowered’. and that broke my heart and made me so mad because awkward beat was by cat and ilikeorangetoo and green & yellow but NOT girlpowered. and it’s not fucking fair.

SO in conclusion, i dont really know why i wrote this essay to you. all i know is that you made a conscious decision for fitz and harry to take a break from the internet for a while, and they’re being given to us without your permission. and i would like nothing more to dig into that fic and read it again and again and again but not if it’s not from you. because loving your work isn’t an excuse to disrespect you and your wishes, and i have faith in the fact that things will all work out one day, and even if fitz and harry don’t ever come back to tumblr, it’s okay because at least you will be okay (i dont know if this makes sense, do you know what i mean??) because it was your decision and your perogative and your fitzandharry. but it’s not fair. so i mustered all the self control i had and stopped reading [even though i would literally give my left pinky toe to read the story again] and decided to report the story but more importantly to write this whatever-the-hecko-this-is to you.

i tried to report the story on wattpad, and it said only the owner could request the work be taken down. i’m sure you have already done this a countless number of times, but this version looks like it was published fairly recently? so i thought maybe you weren’t aware. if you already were then i’m sorry, because then this whole expose just gets a little awkward. but if you weren’t aware, then maybe this can be a sort of high five of support(???) or a lil reminder from someone who loves fitz and harry, but not more than they love you.

anyways, thank you for everything, and sorry again.

and i support you a lot!!! i know i’m a stranger and i’m not sure if it matters that much to you, but i think that spreading validation and good vibes can do a lot for people so.

also i apologise if this was a lot to take in from someone you dont know at all? but…. i mean i dont know anymore. i hope it’s not bad and you’re not too offended and weirded out.

alrighty then, i’ll see you around (my dash)

whiteboymacarena (my name is neha)

ps. this isn’t really something i want to submit [i mean it’s pretty obvious but still]. i just didn’t think i’d be able to split up 5 messages and send them to you :)

Neha. You sent this to me SO long ago, so first, I must apologize for taking so long to respond to you. To be honest, your message overwhelmed me. It’s always incredibly disappointing to hear that my work has been stolen and posted (or circulated) without my permission, and at this point it’s happened to me so many times that I’m completely exhausted. Hearing about it just makes me shut down. But with that said, I’m very appreciative that you came to me with the information and provided the link to the account (I took it out of your original submission). I always feel it’s best to speak to the person first, human to human - because I want people to know, from someone whose writing has been taken advantage of, that it’s not right and it’s a betrayal of trust that is so sacred in this, or any, online writing community. So I’ve messaged the account holder and I’ll hope that they have it in their heart to do the right thing and remove it. If not, I’ll report it.

The second reason this message overwhelmed me was because you just GET IT. I don’t know if you’re a writer and if you’ve had any of your works pop up anywhere without your permission, but somehow you just get it. And I feel really emotional thinking that AB was something you really wanted to read again but you didn’t, because you knew it wasn’t there by the author’s choice. I can NOT explain in words how much that means to me, how much it HEALS me (sorry for being dramatic), because I feel like sometimes all I get to see is people saying “I’ll email it to you, I have the PDF!” and “I’ve posted it on wattpad so everyone can enjoy it!” and no one is asking themselves “Wait, should we think about why the author didn’t want it here in the first place?”. Reading this message reminded me time and time again (because I’ve read it several times) that there are such genuine people in the world who really do want to do right by others. Again, I know this is so dramatic because ok, it’s not world peace, it’s a piece of fan fiction. But sometimes I feel like I’m yelling until my voice gets hoarse and still people are trampling all over something I created, shared for free and respectfully decided to remove. So just knowing there was someone in my corner when I wasn’t there to defend myself means the absolute world to me. Thank you for being a friend. Much love to you. I hope you’re well.

#submission #whiteboymacarena

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madcapmoon · 7 years ago

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bikini kill + fugazi appreciation thread March 27, 2005

by bodhisattvagrrl

because of a strange series of circumstances i had the amazing good fortune, honor and privilege of taking my younger daughter who is 15 to meet Kathi Wilcox, bass player for the early '90s riot grrrl band Bikini Kill, and currently one of two lead guitarists for the Casual Dots, for a one-time guitar lesson which became an opportunity for my daughter to ask her what it was like being in one of the most important grrrl bands ever. sad to say i was woefully ignorant of Bikini Kill so i did some research the night before and was blown away to realize how important they are in rock history. i don't know what Kathi told my daughter because i was in another room, but when we were leaving Kathi said they never had any idea that one day their band would be in *books*, they just hoped they might be able to play in dc or nyc. (Bikini Kill was from olympia, washington) she said when they were in nyc to play cbgb's, a friend who had a friend who worked for spin as a favor to the band asked her friend to write about Bikini Kill, not realizing that Bikini Kill didn't like spin, lol. the spin woman approached them as they were about to look for some pizza and asked if she could interview them. Kathi said they were excited about being in nyc and eating pizza there so they told her that they couldn't, though not in a bad way, and went off to look for pizza. she said the spin person couldn't believe Bikini Kill didn't want to talk to her and she wrote about them anyway, like who did Bikini Kill think they were, they didn't even have an album out yet. Kathi said for some reason that article made the media want to find out who they were more. she said maybe if they'd talked to the spin person they'd have gotten a little blurb and that would have been it, but it was strange how things worked out. while Kathi was talking with my daughter, i waited in the dining room of her apartment and her boyfriend, Guy Picciotto, made me a cup of tea. =o also very sad to say, even tho i have lived in the dc area most of my life and naturally have heard of these guys, i missed out on the whole Fugazi experience. while researching Bikini Kill, i also read about why Fugazi was such an amazing band, like they never charged more than $5 for their shows or $8 for their cds. they had values and ethics and a community. i'd say more about that but i'm typing in the dark (aforementioned daughter is asleep nearby) so i can't refer to the books i was reading from. i couldn't believe he actually sat down with me. =o but since he did, i asked him what he's doing now. he said Fugazi didn't disband, they're in a break phase. they still meet regularly to talk. meanwhile he and his longtime friend Eddie and a couple younger guys who play bass and drums have been working on music (he thinks they might have a cd to release later this year). this band doesn't have a name yet. i asked him if Fugazi ever looked at other bands making lots of money and think, damn, we should charge more? he said, no, he is comfortable with their values and their decisions. he said they don't judge what other bands do, and he said he's enjoyed seeing big arena bands himself. but he said he didn't think people in bands that made more money were necessarily any happier than he is. he said something about a trade-off - bands that charge higher prices for tickets might not be able to get as many people to come to their shows, whereas Fugazi charging $5 enabled lots of people to come, even sometimes kids who didn't really like them but it was something they could afford, lol. he says he's been doing a lot of production work for other bands (other bands hiring him to produce them). he said he loved touring. he mentioned playing australia and the band camping out and he made the mistake of feeding a kangaroo some bread - when he ran out of bread the kangaroo got mad and attacked him! kangaroo kicked him in the chest and they all took off running, lol. he says it's exhausting sometimes but Fugazi is committed to trying to answer all the fans that write them. he said they have about 700 live sets recorded, i think he said 10 have been released. he said they were recorded by their sound guy so the quality of the recordings is very good, though some performances are better than others. he said looking back on the seventeen years that Fugazi was playing and touring, he remembers how incredible it was when everyone in the band was in sync, like they could read each other's minds, and the synergy with the crowds - he said their shows were the *events* themselves - not the band but the band with the crowd - that they never had a set list (they had about 100 songs ready to play) (they used to practice five days a week) - they made up their sets as they went along, according to the energy of the crowds. he also said when they were off, like if someone was having a bad day or something, it was horrible. i could tell that he and the band are proud of their legacy. Guy was so really, really down-to-earth, intelligent, thoughtful (well read - he has a degree in english from georgetown university), courteous, self-effacing, modest, humble, sincere, supportive .... Kathi and Guy have *tons* of all kinds of books. he said he has an older brother by about a year and a younger sister by four or five years. he said even though his brother and he are closer in age he doesn't think he ever got what he was doing. he thinks his sister is the only one in his family who got it, that she came out to see the band when they played in san franciso. he said his parents had the normal parental concern about what he was doing, but he thinks that when the band finally started getting critical acclaim, they finally stopped worrying. i asked him what he thought of dance music and he said he didn't really know much about it. then he laughed and asked if i'd ever heard of dj spooky. i said yes, and he said he and dj spooky used to wash dishes at a restaurant called food for thought a long time ago way before they became musicians. i told him that my daughter initiates jam sessions but she's too shy to play along, she ends up watching her friends (boys) play. he suggested that it might be better for her to play with kids she feels comfortable playing with, maybe even kids who aren't as good as she is, not kids she feels intimidated by. he said it's not about proficiency, at least in his case, and that sometimes people who can play proficiently are boring. he later said these things to my daughter himself, and i was so touched by his genuine, respectful thoughtfulness toward her. he offered to show her his guitars and she accepted. :) that's when Kathi told me the story about pizza in nyc and the spin lady. :) my daughter doesn't say much but i've got to believe she was as impressed as i was by how *nice* these two punk rock legends were. anyway, i know some of you dogs are *quite* well-versed in Fugazi and Bikini Kill - so i thought some of you might appreciate hearing what *cool* human beings Kathi Wilcox and Guy Picciotto are.

i know my daughter will never forget this day the rest of her life.i won't! respectfully, mary

#guy picciotto #fugazi #kathi wilcox #bikini kill

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transcendence-au · 7 years ago

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The Manor of Alcor (1/?)

Happy Birthday TAU! It only took 6 MONTHS to finally feel comfortable with how the story should go, but here’s an anniversary present to you. And I’m sorry that a lot of the more recent hc for this prompt couldn’t be added; I started planning and writing long beforehand. Anyway, here’s a murder mystery plot involving Alcor. Or, well, you’ll see…

Also on ff.net

He checked the time on his phone once more as he continued to walk down the secluded path. 7:00AM. He was still thirty minutes ahead of schedule. Perfect!

Still, after readjusting the straps on his backpack and his hold on his suitcase, Orrie increased his pace. Though this road just on the outskirts of town was assuredly safe, and streetlights brightly lined the pathway, it was still early in the morning and anything could happen to a boy out in the woods alone. So when he saw the bus stop just at the top of the hill he let out a thankful sigh. As he neared, it turned out he wasn’t the first to make the trek here.

Three others sat on the short bench flooded with artificial light. Two, who had to be a couple judging by the way the young woman was resting her head on her husband’s shoulder and how the two of them were dozing, sat nearest the sign. The other man with the incredibly long silver hair and summer trench coat sat closer to the other end, reading a novel. He glanced up when Orrie approached and scooted over some to give the boy a space to sit. Orrie, smiling shyly, took the offer graciously. As he put down his backpack and suitcase, the man closed his book. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Um, yes sir,” Orrie answered, letting his legs rest. The man, which Orrie could now see had some long, pointy ears, frowned only slightly.

“You didn’t want to come with anyone else?”

Orrie blushed. “Well, I’m kinda treating myself to this excursion. An early birthday present.”

“Ah.” The man’s expression instantly brightened. “So it’s also your first time going to the manor?”

“Yes sir. It took me ages to convince my parents to let me sign up for the event. I think they only agreed because they thought I wouldn’t be one of the two to get randomly picked to go. But I’m so glad I was. It’s a really popular attraction, I hear.”

“That it is,” agreed the man, “I chose to go on the waiting list. It was a year’s wait, but I’m not going to complain.” He lifted a brow at Orrie. “You know, I’d never thought someone as young as you would be very excited to visit the Manor of Alcor.”

“No way! I love Alcor.” He then laughed, embarrassed. “Okay, that came out so wrong. I mean that I find Alcor a really cool guy.” By now the other couple had woken up and turned their attention to the two. “My grandfather used to be part of a tiny Alcor branch when he was a teenager– you know, back when cults were a big deal. He’d tell me all the times he and his friends would summon Alcor and they’d just do fun stuff like play a real-life version of DD&MD and get the whole town involved, or have music battles in the middle of the street with the local musicians, or tutor kids after school through the use of sock puppets. I mean, they also did other cult stuff, but that was mainly just for formality; most of the time it was just hanging out with Alcor while also helping the community.” He blushed faintly. “I’m not scared of him like others are, though I know I should be.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” the man stated gently. Orrie glanced up at him, his blush still present. “You grew up knowing of the kinder side of Alcor, the side most of the world doesn’t get to see. While I myself have grown accustomed to the dark stories involving the Dreambender, I’m well aware he’s not the pure evil most regard him as.” Orrie nodded, his small smile growing. The man held out a hand. “Flynn Fairfern. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Orrie Walter,” answered Orrie, shaking his hand. “May I ask why you’re here?”

Flynn smiled wistfully. “Oh, it’s for nothing important. I just want to test my skills one last time so I can fully enjoy my retirement.”

“Retirement? But you’re young.” To Orrie, the man looked no older than maybe his mid-thirties.

Flynn chuckled. “I appreciate the compliment, but I should inform you that elves are typically twice as old as you think they are.”

“Oh.” Well, that was embarrassing. “You say skills. Are—were you a detective?”

“Yes. I specialized in organized criminal investigations, usually working undercover to gather information. I tried to steer clear of actual confrontations if I could help it.”

“Still, you must have had quite an exciting career,” the young woman from the other side of the bench spoke up, “I wouldn’t envy a bit more adventure in my life.”

Flynn’s eyes went distant for a moment. “Exciting, sometimes. But most of my days were simple if not a tad dull. Honestly, I preferred those days over the exciting ones.”

“I hear ya,” the young man replied, squeezing his wife’s shoulder, “Sometimes it’s nice to just sit back and enjoy the tranquility.”

“Is that why you’re going to the manor?” Orrie asked them.

“Partly, though we’re going to try and solve the mystery too,” the man admitted, “But it’s so far from the hustle and bustle of civilization that even if we don’t Zahia and I have a spectacular scenery to enjoy nonetheless. It’ll be our perfect honeymoon.” They nuzzled each other on the nose before the young husband shook Orrie and Flynn’s hands. “Cliff Lionhart. This is my wife Zahia.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintances. And also congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Zahia smiled at Flynn. The sounds of brisk footsteps grabbed all of their attentions. A fifth member to the party approached, wearing a red coat even longer and far more extravagant than Flynn’s. He had a rugged face and large mustache, and for the oddest of reasons he reminded Orrie of a circus ringleader he saw in those old movies and outdated books. The newcomer dropped his bag by the sign, looking at the lot.

“And here I thought I’d be the first to arrive. Nice to see so many youngsters this time around.” Flynn made nothing of the comment as he and the others introduced themselves. “Siegfried Connolly. And don’t take this the wrong way, lady and gents, but I intend to be the first to solve the mystery at the Manor of Alcor.”

“Oh you do, do ya?” Cliff chuckled. It was obvious he was only teasing, but Siegfried leered at him nonetheless. “You sound pretty confident, Mr. Connolly. I’m going to use my deductive reasoning skills and say you’ve been to the manor before.”

“Indeed I have,” sniffed Siegfried, straightening his coat, “And the last time I came I was this close to solving the mystery.” He brought his index finger and thumb close together. “I’ll admit I was with several of my colleagues last time, though, so I had a lot more help. But I don’t believe it’ll be as difficult for me to find all the clues again.” Zahia giggled as Cliff rolled his eyes, still smirking.

Orrie, however, grew even more excited. “Are they really that hard to find? I mean, if the outing lasts the whole weekend and no one has yet solved the mystery it must be challenging.”

Siegfried grinned. “Of course it has to be challenging. You have to really know your—ah! I can’t say; it’ll spoil the fun. But don’t doubt for a moment that it’s hard. After all, it is no small prize given to whoever solves the mystery.”

“Oh yeah, I heard about that,” said Zahia, “They never did advertise much about the prize, just that there was one if you could solve the mystery. I guess because they want to keep guests more focused on that. I wonder what it is, though.”

“One million dollars,” Siegfried answered, to the gasps of several of them. “Though I’m not supposed to tell. Contracts, remember. But I intend to win it all. No hard feelings or nothing.”

“None taken,” Flynn replied curtly, returning to his book.

“Ditto,” answered Orrie. While the prize’s value was definitely enticing, it still didn’t change his true excitement of just solving the mystery, whatever it may be.

“A million dollars would be nice,” mused Cliff.

More minutes ticked by, the group chatting amiably when the next two guests made their way slowly up the hill. They were an elderly couple, and Cliff and Siegfried hastened to assist them to the bench, where Flynn and Orrie readily offered them their seats. “Oh, you are all too kind,” the old lady smiled sweetly, sitting down next to her husband. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s nothing at all,” spoke Flynn, and the others nodded.

“Are you youngsters going to be solving the mystery?” the old man asked, somehow sounding not at all nosy. When the other guests confirmed they were, he chuckled, a light wheezing sound. “Ah, well, you don’t have to worry about us old geezers. Jillian and I won’t be participating.”

“Why not?” Orrie asked, curious. Jillian set down her cane.

“We just want to enjoy one weekend in a nice place. We’ve never been to an elegant home before, and we heard the manor is an idyllic haven for those wanting to get away for a small while. Jackson and I, unfortunately, may not have much longer together, so we wanted to share one last, happy memory with each other.”

Siegfried nodded respectfully. “Then you won’t be disappointed. The manor is as beautiful as you picture it to be, with its many rooms and scenic gardens. If ever you need anything, the housekeepers will provide.” The old couple smiled warmly at his words.

Heavy panting could soon be heard, and they all turned to see a rather large man struggle to make the climb to the bus stop. He staggered over to the sign, collapsed under it, and snatched a small bag of chips and a water bottle from his suitcase. He immediately downed them both in a matter of seconds. “Too…far…” he huffed, wiping moisture away from his one eye. Jackson leaned over towards the cyclops, handing him a handkerchief. “Thanks.”

“We’re only half a mile away from the nearest town,” Cliff said to the newcomer, a bit of concern highlighting his tone, “Are ya sure you’re up to the task?”

“Of what, solving the mystery?” the cyclops grumbled, reaching for another bag of chips. “I don’t care about that. I’m only coming because I had nothing better to do and my friend offered me xir ticket. Hear the place has some good food, though.” He finished his second bag as he said this. “The name’s Duglas Segal, by the way. Just call me Dug.” The rest greeted him in turn.

It wasn’t long after when the bus finally showed up. The party grabbed their various belongs and made their way toward the small white vehicle once it stopped and opened its doors for them. Orrie silently thanked the person in charge of all this for sending a bus with comfortable seats; the bench had been too hard for him. As the lot boarded, Orrie frowned, counting silently in his head. Disregarding the secondary guests who were allowed to come along with a ticketholder, there should be seven people boarding. At least one person was missing.

“Hey, someone’s still missing,” Orrie said, flashing his ticket before he could board. The driver shook his head.

“Everybody was told the bus would be leaving at exactly 7:30AM and to be at the stop on time. The drive’s nearly four hours long, kid; we’re on a tight enough schedule as it is.”

But it just didn’t sit right with Orrie to leave without the last person; this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that no one should miss out on. “Can’t you hold on for five more minutes? My, uh, my friend told me they were running a bit late and would be here soon.”

“Kid, we got to go. We need to beat traffic if we’re to get to the manor on time.”

“But—”

“On the bus. Now.” Disheartened, Orrie grabbed his suitcase and took a step onto the bus. He could just make out pounding footsteps coming towards them and turned just before his head could disappear behind the door. The last two guests were running as fast as they could, their luggage banging wildly against them as they raced toward them.

“Wait, hold on! They’re right there!” Leaning out the bus, he waved them to hurry up. “Come on, you guys! You can make it!”

“Kid, sit down already.” But the final two members leaped onto the bus, huffing and laughing with relief that they just made it. Orrie helped them get their stuff, guiding them toward the back of the bus. The grumbling driver didn’t wait for them to take their seats, already backing up and driving back down the road he came. Orrie took the seat all the way in the back, the other two taking the row across from him, placing their luggage under the seats in front of them.

“Phew! That was a close one,” the teenage girl grinned, still trying to catch her breath. The boy next to her leaned his head against the window, also smiling.

“For the record, I was ready to go before you even got up,” he said.

“Yeah right. You were in the middle of double-checking everything in your suitcase again by the time dad started the car.”

“I’m just glad you could make it,” said Orrie. At least now he wouldn’t be the only kid going to manor, even if these two were a few years older than him. Perhaps fifteen? “I’m Orrie. Are you two also a couple? Because we have a couple of those already.” He nodded his head toward the Lionharts and Jackson and Jillian. The girl snickered.

“Ew, no! We’re twins.” She held out her hand, which Orrie shook. “I’m Belle. This is my dorky bro-bro Dipper. Nice to meetcha’, Orrie.” Dipper reached past his sister to shake Orrie’s hand as well.

“So did you drag your brother along for the ride?”

“Actually, I—”

“Are you kidding?” the sister spoke over her brother, “Dipper’s the one who begged me to come along. He was one of the lucky two to win a free ticket.”

“I didn’t beg you, I asked,” he retorted, but Orrie wasn’t really listening, his eyes lit up.

“Really? Me too!” And he showed them his ticket. “So why’d you sign up? Are you going to solve the mystery or to relax in an awesome mansion?”

“Honestly, I’m more interested in whatever they have to say about this Alcor legend,” Dipper answered, smirking slightly. “Solving the mystery should be hardly a challenge at all. But I’ve heard nearly every story there is about Alcor, and not once did I hear of him owning a mansion of sorts.”

“I know, right? You’d think if he did it’d be all over the history books and demonology texts. Nah, the only building that frequently pops up in articles about him is the Stanley Pines Memorial Library in Gravity Falls, and I just think that’s a place he visited a lot because of where it is and the amount of knowledge it holds. If you ask me, Alcor doesn’t seem the type to want a mansion of any kind unless it was with, uh, people…” He noticed how Belle and Dipper were giving him odd looks. He coughed nervously. “Er…so I presume.”

“…You seem to know quite a bit about Alcor,” Dipper narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, “For a kid, I mean.”

“I spent hours reading about him, his cults, Mizar, the Transcendence– everything,” Orrie admitted, looking away and messing with his glasses. “My grandfather was the one who introduced me to the subject, being in an Alcor branch when he was younger. The Seekers of Starlight? You probably never heard of them.” Dipper leaned back against his seat, his eyes closed.

“I think I have. Wasn’t it that tiny cult located in a small town in Delaware?” Orrie nodded, surprised the boy knew that. “Its name popped up once or twice during my readings,” Dipper hastily added, sensing Orrie’s look.

“Oh. I didn’t know it was that popular.”

“Oh yeah. They did a lot of interesting stuff, I hear.”

“I wish I could meet him,” sighed Orrie, leaning back in his seat as well. “He sounds like a neat guy. Bringing shelter to the homeless. Defending the defenseless. Fighting evildoers alongside Mizar. If only I could summon him like my grandpa did.”

Dipper cracked an eye open at him. “You do know it’s not a good idea to summon the most dangerous demon known on a whim, right?”

“Oh, I know, I know,” the boy hurriedly assured him, “Grandpa always warned me never to try summoning anything unless in grave trouble. He told me how Alcor would constantly lecture them about that kind of stuff. Still, it’s just…” He paused. He shook his head. “Nevermind, you’re right. Forget it.” The two eyed him curiously, but they fortunately didn’t press the matter further. They spent a little over two hours talking about other things, school and personal life, and Orrie was really starting to like them. The twins—Belle and Dipper Sterling he found out—seemed to be magnets for trouble and adventure, something Orrie always secretly craved in his own life. Between running away from cultists and finding sea demons there seemed to be a never-ending amount of stories they shared with him. “Wow, you guys practically live the life of Montana Martinez. Lucky!”

“Wait, you watch those movies too?”

“You bet! He’s awesome! Did you know they’re rebooting the franchise?” And so that developed into the topic of movies for the next half hour with them ignoring Belle as she rolled her eyes and teased “Dorks,” under her breath. Orrie was having such a great time with them that it didn’t feel like much time had passed when he felt someone gently shaking him awake. He rubbed his eyes gingerly, wondering when exactly he dozed off.

“We’re here,” Flynn said, giving him one last nudge. “You should wake your friends.”

Orrie sat up, looking at the time on his phone. It was half an hour before noon. He quickly turned to his new friends and woke them up, telling them they’d arrived. Belle yawned as Dipper stretched, but it wasn’t a minute later before the three of them and Flynn were stepping off the bus. Orrie gasped in awe.

The manor was spectacular. The three-story structure made of faded tan bricks stood impressively over the wide, open yard of freshly cut grass. The cobblestone pathway cut the massive yard evenly in two, with a miniature hedge maze located to its left and a stone lagoon swimming pool with surrounding outdoor furniture to its right. Nestled beside the manor was a fairly large greenhouse with various plants and shrubs growing inside it (Orrie couldn’t help chuckling at the rainbow pinwheel spinning merrily on top of the glass structure despite there not being a breeze). Men and women all dressed in identical but comfortable attire were gathered around a barbecue and table, and the delicious smell of grilled burgers and corn was making Orrie’s stomach growl eagerly. Orrie looked back, watching the bus drive through the tall metal gates that closed with a heavy slam behind it.

The guests walked silently down the pathway, ending up on the front stairs of the manor. Before anyone could knock, the front doors opened by themselves and an old maid stepped out, beaming cheerily at them all. “Welcome to the Manor of Alcor,” she greeted them before stepping back and bowing slightly. “I’m Ms. Wheatly. Please come in, kind guests.” They all stepped inside, steadily if not a bit slowly making their way to the large foyer that split into several hallways. Ms. Wheatly led them down the one on the far right. “The Master will be with you shortly,” she spoke, opening a door and letting them step inside the room before closing it behind them. It looked to be a parlor room with its numerous chairs and sofas, mantle, and tiny bookshelf. Orrie made himself comfortable in one of the chairs, dropping his luggage down in front of him. Most of the others were inclined to do the same, with only Flynn and Siegfried preferring to stand and pace around the room.

Orrie was beginning to let his mind wander and wonder when they were going to have some grilled food when the lamps in the room began to flicker. He sat up straighter, watching the other visitors glance around to what could possibly be causing the faulty wiring. Suddenly, the lights went off entirely, and with no windows in the room, it was eerily dark.

“…H̛mh̴m,͞ we͠l̀c̵ome̡ t͞o ͝my ́manor͟…” Golden irises flashed in the darkness. Moments later, the lights slowly came back on, and a young man hovered in the air before them, smirking down at them all. Orrie had to give him props: he looked exactly like the Dreambender he always imagined. Cool demeanor, elegant black suit, velvety wings, floating top hat, inhuman gold irises, and an air of dangerous mystery about him. Orrie could see from the corner of his eye the other guests’ reactions. They ranged from stunned disbelief to mild bemusement, the latter mostly sported by Siegfried and Dipper.

In fact, Mr. Connolly stepped up to the figure, a smile of familiarity on his face. “I must say, that’s a better entrance than last time, Mr. Dreambender. Glad to see you haven’t lost your touch.”

‘Alcor'—because Orrie was well aware this was an actor—blinked once before grinning himself. “Oh, I ̶̡re͡member y̴o͏ų, Sie͏g̡fried̕ Conno̶lly. Y̧ou c̵am͏e ̶v̧ery c̷lose to ̧so̵lving my ̀mýs̴ter̀y̵ last time.” His grin grew, mocking. “But you d͝idn’t quite ma͡ke͟ it.”

“Sadly, no. But you’re in better luck this time around. We have ourselves some very bright detectives to help solve your mystery. Assuming you don’t scare them off, that is.” At that, 'Alcor’ smiled mischievously at the youngest members, and Orrie couldn’t stop himself from being just a tad unnerved. Dipper, on the other hand, burst into giggles.

“Oh come on! Are we supposed to be scared? You don’t even look like Alcor!” Belle elbowed him in the side, earning a small wince from him.

“Dipper!” she hissed.

“Well, he doesn’t. Look. Where are the claws? The sharp teeth? The pointy ears? I’ve seen better cosplayers of Alcor at TwinCon. And he does not smile that much.”

Did it really matter? Yes, the actor had some things off—even Orrie had noticed that—but it wasn’t like anyone was trying to prove he was the real deal. This was all just part of the gig. Orrie supposed Dipper could simply be a more passionate fan of the Alcor legends, taking some offense that the professionals weren’t getting even the small details correct.

“Though you got everything else more or less correct,” Dipper finished. 'Alcor’, his grin falling, huffed and straightened his coat. Orrie spotted the small wings peeking from behind his back flutter with the movement. Evidently, Dipper spotted them too. “Let me guess– attached by wire through the back of the sleeve? Cool trick, but the wings should be further down.”

“An̷d h͢o͡w ̕w͢o͢ul̀d ͝y͡ou ̷k͟n͞o͢ẁ so m̨uch a̢bout ̛my appȩár̢anc̕e͏?” 'Alcor’ growled, lowering down to lean over Dipper. Dipper shrugged.

“I read a lot,” was the smooth reply.

“Ţh͢en͞ perha̵p̷s you’ve ̢read̢ th̛a͢t Í can̵ alter͠ m͢y ̷a̧p̕pe̴a͢r̨anc͡e̢ t͝o ̶m̛a̧k̀e myself̀ not l͡o̶o͞k̴ ve͡ry frigh͏t̀e̷ning̀. Mayb͡e I̡ d̨idņ’t ẁan̢t ́ţo̵ terri̷f͏y potentíàl m͏or͝tals w̢ho dec̢i̕de ͝to come ̨to ͢my m̧anor̛ and͞ śo̷lve i̧ts m̛ystery͞.”

Belle very hastily slapped her hand over her brother’s mouth before he could so much as inhale a retort. “So what’s the mystery exactly? I’d like to hear more about it.”

“Same here,” Orrie agreed a little too emphatically, grateful for the change in topic. 'Alcor’ looked more than eager for an excuse to ignore the brazen teen.

“W̴hat͞?̧ Yo͞u͏ have̶n'̀t h̴eard̶̕ i͡t̛?̷” He shook his head, as if ashamed by their ignorance. “Mak̢es m͠e w͡on̶der ͏why ͞y͞o̷u’re ́here͞.̕ A̵s i̡t ̕s̀t͟ands, I ̢do ̵n̴ee̕d śome͞ he͡lp̵, s̵o I ́suppos͝e I'̧ll have t̡o inf̷or̕ḿ you.” He clapped twice, and the lights dimmed again, though they didn’t go out. Dipper, still with his mouth covered, rolled his eyes.

'Alcor’ began the tale, the synthetic reverb in his voice toned down so they could understand him better. “You s̨ee, this̵ ma̛nor̡͞ ẁa̛s͝n't͏ o̕r̷íg̴ina͟lly m͠i̡n͞e. I̡t ̛w̷as b͏ui͟lt b̛y a ͡group of ͟b͞right, gi͢fted, and gr͏eedỳ h̢um̨a̕ns. Ea̡cḩ on̶e so͢u͏ght ͝͝un͟li͟mi̧t͝éd͡ p̛ow̢er fo͟r thei̴r own̕ ńefa͏rious n̶e̢eds, bu̷t͏, b̧ei͝ng hum͡ans, t̕h́ey h̵a͏d no̡ m̶ȩa̧n͠s ̕t͏o ̨́gèt ̡it̀ ou̶ţs̴ide of̴ a d̶eal wi͟th a d́e͟mon. And̵̴ s̢uc͞h a ̕c̶ostl̴y dea̵l̡ it wo̴uld̷ be, ͡too.” He floated over to a portrait of the very manor, the yellowed paper encased by thin glass. “T͞h͏ìs ma̧nor̴ wa̧ş c͡ons̢truct̛ed͏ w͡ít̵ḩ thé inte̢ņt o͝f ̢ca͞p̢tųrin͢g m̛e, fo̧rcing̷ me̴ t̨o cơmp̶ly to th͡e͠i͢r ne̴eds. Its͠ fra̴mes a͟r̛e en͞gra͟ve͠d wit̨h́ an̷ciȩnt runeś. Its͞ walls̀ are marr̨ed̨ with̢ hi̕dd͢e͟n̕ wa̢rd̢s. A͏nd̨ aļl th͏at'̀s not in͞clud̡ing ͏t͏heìr͡ m͏o͝st̷̢ p̨ower͏fúl of̧ co͢nf̵i̧ne͢me͏nt t̡o̡ols͝.”

“But͏ some͡t̨h̶in͞g̵ happȩn͡ȩd ͞t̨he nig͏ht ̀͡b̢e͠fore they ̢tri͠ed̀ t̨o̶ capt͠uŗé͡ m̵e̷. An͠d͝ I͝'̶m no͟t̕ şure̡͡ what. All͟ I do kno̷w͟ i̷ş t̷h̷a͟t six o͞f th̨e ͞sev̶e̡n̷ h̡u̧ma̕n̶s w̛er̵e͡ mu̢rdered, the̕͏ s͞ev̢e̵nţh ͞fleein͢g ͏f̵r̷om th̴i͏s plące be͏fo͏re the͟ý̨ cou̵l̕d ̛̀be ͝arrestéd. W͞hy? I͏ h͟ave̷ m̨y suspic̢io͞ns̵, aś̕ I’m su̢r̢e yơu ḑo as̡ w̢el̶l. B̷ut ͞͝who ͝exactl͢y? I ca̶n’t t̡éll yo͠u, a̡nd t̵ha̵t͢'s̶ w͝h̴a͏t ̕I w͞ant for you t̵o s͏olve. T͠he ide͢ņtity̷ of the s̡ev̛e̷n ͟pȩople̷ wḩo͢ tried̷ to captuŕe me ̡an̢d ́t͠he ͟c̴u͢l͢pr̛it béhind̵͏ th̶e murder͞s͡. Do t͞hat̡ àņd̴ I'l̛l o̷ffe͠r ͝y̕o̴u̢ a g͡e͏n̕e̴ro̡us rewa͢r̵d̡ f̛or y̢our tr̶o͏uble̶s.”

“That seems fair,” Cliff said, rising to his feet. “A luxurious stay and the chance to win a million dollars in return for solving a mystery even Alcor can’t. I’m ready for this.”

“Me too!” added Zahia.

“Of course you know where I stand,” commented Siegfried, pointedly ignoring the accusing glare 'Alcor’ was giving him.

“These youngsters sound so excited, honey,” Jillian said to her husband, who nodded in agreement. “We wish you all the best of luck.”

“A million dollars? You know, I’m starting to appreciate coming now,” Dug muttered.

“We can totally solve this, bro.” Belle and Dipper were sharing mirroring grins.

“I’m ready for a challenge,” Orrie chimed in.

“As am I,” Flynn spoke out.

'Alcor’ chuckled. “Goo̵ḑ͟ to ͏he͏a̡r. B̴eca͟use ͏a͡͞ ch͞a͢ll̴enge i͟s wh̛at̡ t̛his͞’ll b͟e. Y̢o̷u ha̷v͞e̵ u͝ņti̴l̶ n̶oon of the͡ th͢ird̢ da͠y t̷o s̷olve th͟e̛ my͏sterý. If you̡ ma͡na͡ge to succeed̵, the pr̵ize is yours͞, th̨ough͢͡ thos̷e wor͝ki̛ng i̛n̷ gr̴o̵up̴s will h̷av̀e to sp̴lit it. If ͢none͞ o͟f yǫu c͡a͟n sol͢ve the̷͟ m̷y̢s͠t̢eŗy̧ by tha̛t time̶ t͡h͡e͟n yo̡u l̷e͞a̷v̴e w̷it̨h nothin͡ǵ. D̀eąl?” Blue fire engulfed his hand.

“Deal.” Cliff answered for them all, stepping forward to shake the proffered hand. He looked a little nervous when the fire wrapped around his own hand, but didn’t say anything.

“P͞e̕rf͏ȩct͞. I'l͞l͏ l̢e̕av͠e t̕he hou̕se̛kȩe̛p̧ęrs͏ to get͏ yơu a͞ll s̶eţtled into y̷ou̧r r̵oo͠ms̨. In th̴e me͏antíme͠, good̶͟ luck̶.” And with that the lights flickered again, turned out completely for less than a second, and 'Alcor’ was gone.

The grandfather clock in the corner of the room chimed twelve.

The doors reopened and Ms. Wheatly stepped inside, holding several white envelopes. “These are for you. They’re where you’ll be sleeping during your stay.” She handed one to each of the primary guests. Orrie took his, noting the masterful penmanship of the calligraphy. 'Orso Walter’ it read. He opened it to find a tiny slip of paper inside. All that was on it was a single word: 'Keller’.

“Please, come with me. Your rooms are upstairs. I’ll guide you to them.”

#submission #dipper #belle #fic

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